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girlbloggersfolly · 27 days

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DELTA DAWN - part 2// Bee in your bonnet

Pairing: camp counselour!joel miller x camp lifeguard!afab!reader

Rating: E!!!!! 18+ MDNI

Word count: 4.8k

Summary: (1979 summer camp AU) Things go south one morning after a particularly catty argument between Joel and our lifeguard in Joel's boat shed/self proclaimed 'man cave'. - Pictures in the moodboard are simply to get the imagination racing and for me to spill my pinterest all over your screens, the reader is at no point described!

Chapter warnings: age gap (20 + 49), enemies to loves - i mean it, mean!joel, lowkey mean!reader but we love them both, slight vouyerism, cigarette smoking, talk of pornographic magazines, complicated relationship (billy and reader dw), oral (fem receiving), semi-public sex (door open but thats it, degrading, pet names (kiddo, sweetie, doll - the good stuff ykyk), fingering idk, slow burn, fem!masturbation dirty talk, no descriptors of reader except she has hair and is a similar height to joel cause im tired of the lack of tall girl representation in fics, sorry... if that ruins it for you just imagine i never said that), NO USE OF Y/N.

a/n: eekkkk ok you can probably tell from his horrific piece of writing that ive never done proper smut and i went a little overboard but i'm sure you'll like it anyway. i've probably got one or two more parts of their story left in me, depending on how happy i want the ending to be. Id love to get requests if anyone has any bright ideas! I love the 3 people who are reading this, it really makes me blush and you don't even know it.... also lmk if you want to be on the taglist for any future writings xxxx

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You were up in the chair early. Waking especially to sit and watch as the sun rose higher over the lake and above the pines, hoping to get there before Joel, just so you had time to ground yourself. You toyed with the cigarette between your fingers, a habit of yours that had really been getting you through the last agonising couple of days of avoiding Joel Miller, but there was no putting it off this morning.

Kayaking. Something you’d never really specialised in and were not convinced you'd know how to deal with if things were to go south.However, as always, you kept your doubts to yourself. Joel was taking the kids today, he was good with them and obviously knew what he was doing on the water. You hoped that meant no accidents.

“No smoking in the chair, cupcake.” Here we go again.

“Good morning to you too, cupcake.” You rolled your eyes, not bothering to turn around to see the one thing on your frazzled mind, not bothering to put out the cigarette either,

“Kids’ll be here soon, Lou’s bringin’em” He said coldly in reply, standing beside your chair, his face level with your hips as he looked out to the water.

Even being raised above him like this you still felt vulnerable, what was it about him? He turned to look up at you with his big arms crossed against his torso, “so, be a doll and put that thing out f’me will’ya?” The chair rocked slightly as he patted it, condescending as ever.

You rolled your eyes yet again and dropped the cigarette down beside his feet, raising your eyebrows. It was bratty and yeah probably a little crueller than required, but it felt damn good. “Happy?” you were pushing it, really pushing it, you could see it in Joel's hard expression. his impressive profile was only defined by the hot mid-morning sun as he glared up at you through narrowed eyes. He put on his ray-bans and turned away. =

The kids hung onto every word he said as he stood in front of you explaining to them how to kayak, in a way they never did with Billy or Abel, or even Sharon. You tried to listen, tried to look out at the lake, tried to do something that wasn't blatantly staring at his tight ass, the muscles in his back under his t-shirt. It was torture, adjusting in your chair, shifting around like a bitch in heat.

“Eyes on the water, lifeguard,” He taunted you from the deck, you’d really needed to remember your sunglasses next time.

If you thought the other day was bad, this was worse, sitting there melting into your lifeguard chair watching Joel being the hottest man alive and not caring how it might make you feel. The kids were playing capture the flag in the woods by the light of the setting sun, giving you a minute to cool off against a tree, the cigarettes lighting themselves at this point.

Your skin was lit up by the orange light that dotted through the trees as it sunk below the horizon. It was the first moment of mercy you’d gotten from this god-awful day of Joel Miller and his stupid tanned skin, the little sweat droplets on the back of his neck, his salt and pepper scruff, the thought of how it would feel against your inner-

“Found you,” You smelt Billy before you saw him, his freckled arms embracing you from behind, knocking you out of your dreamy state.

“You know this thing? It's called a shower, real cool I hear?” You chuckled, trying to laugh a little to disguise it as a joke, the last thing it was.

“Haha, very funny,” Billy smirked, planting wet kisses across your neck from behind, the moustache he’d been trying to grow tickling your jaw.

“Quit it,” You raised your hands, your shoulders tensing like an alarmed cat as he grinds messily against you, “There's kids around you little shit.”

Billy murmured a chuckle against your skin, his tongue tracing against it, a sensation that had the hairs on your arms standing up. “I’ll make it quick,” Now there was something you could count on.

“I said quit,” you turned abruptly to look at him, brushing yourself off, realising the harsh tone of voice you’d used. He looked pained, his eyebrows furrowed, eyes darting around your face quizzically.

“You know what,” Billy folded his arms, looking you up and down bitterly, “Im tired of you being a fuckin’ prude the whole time,” His voice was raised, whiny, trying to sound like his father.

You scoffed, putting your head in your hands and shaking your head in disbelief, this kid was insane. “Its not my duty to fuck you whenever you so wish, christ, you really are an entitled son of a gun,”

Billy stamped out his cigarette onto the ground, “Nasty bitch,” he shook his head, spitting on the floor, charming. “Don’t know why I even bother.” He marched off, back to his cabin probably, off to write another song about how much he hates women you’d have the pleasure of hearing at his next gig.

The day was dragging, it seemed unceasing, like this spiralling, horny, angry mess that was your body. The forest was quiet again without Billy’s cursing, often you’d hear a distant shout from a kid who’d been caught or a group of them running around, but it was hard to differentiate from a bird call, or the wind in the trees.

“Trouble in paradise.” Great.

“Look, I am not in the mood, so be a sweetie and kindly fuck the fuck off.”

That earnt an impressed chuckle from behind you, another pair of broad shoulders leaning beside you on the tree. “S’ my darn woods, ‘do whatever the hell i like, thank you missy,”

“Joel I'm serious, whatever witty little jabs you're cooking up, save them for another day,” You looked to him, it was hard to look away whenever you did.

“Wasn’t,” He shrugged, there was that gruff, southern nonchalance yet again, christ how it got to you, the complete opposite of Billy’s incessant bitching. You almost wished he cared enough to go off on you the way Billy tried to.

“Well…” you paused, eyes darting over his face, the strong profile, low set brows, those pouty lips you’d gotten pretty damn used to this week. “Dont,” you concluded.

“You really do have a bee in your bonnet don't you, kiddo,” there it was, just as you’d predicted, calm and collected and making you want to blow his brains out.

You shrugged. “Its Billy,” You shook your head, well that was only one of the bees in your very buzzy bonnet, Joels fucking face was the other. “You heard?”

He nodded, “I heard enough,” you both stood in the ambience of the evening, kids whooping, birds sounding from the trees. “Billy’s a dick you know that, ‘don’t know a single fucker from here to Timbuktu that dont know that,”

You couldn't help but chuckle, relaxing further against the tree, your shoulders untensing for the first time in weeks, forgetting who the enemy was. “You know fuckers in Timbuktu?”

“I bet I do,” he nodded, crossing his arms against his broad chest, the camp staff t-shirt barely accommodating his largeness.

Joel sighed, looking over at you, “got one of them cancer sticks you're always suckin’ on?” you had a whole pack of them in your back pocket.

He thanked you and lit one with the janky lighter you'd stolen from Abel, smoke muddying your view of him. There was a lull. “I don't know why you lead that bastard on,” he said through the smoke.

“Im hardly leading him on,” You scoffed, lighting a cigarette for yourself. “He was the one who wanted to keep this to strictly fuck-buddies,” Lucky for you, imagine being Billies girlfriend, jeepers.

“Sounds like you can’t even do that?” he smirked, and there he was again.

“You know, as I find myself repeating these days, s’really none of your business,” you laughed, turning to him, sighing through the familiar heat in your abdomen, the butterflies that felt more like horse flies in your stomach back and buzzing harder than ever.

“You're makin’ it my business, havin’ your lover's spat in my earshot.” he retaliated calmly.

you opened your mouth to bite back with something that attempted to match his condescension, but that was an impossible task. “You know what,” you settled on, again grasping for something to finish that sentence. “Fuck,” again you were gotten the better of.

“I’m stuck with him for the next three weeks, so, gotta keep sweet for that long I guess, maybe put out a couple times.”

He nodded, stamping out his cigarette next to billies, “S’a damn shame,” The eye contact felt like glass in your eyes, felt a big hand twisting your throat till it turned blue, it was those eyes of his in that permanent, laboured squint which you assumed came with age, they killed you. A damn shame. The words played on repeat like a song on Sharon's broken radio, the static soiling his voice in your mind. A damn shame. He was right, it was a damn shame.

“Would you make sure to deal with those kayaks tomorrow morning’, lifeguard? Just gotta pile em’ up in the shed,” He said over his shoulder as he turned to saunter away.

Before you could get your bearings, you were alone again, admittedly less grateful for it too.

Morning, kayaks, shed. Sounded like a relatively agreeable task that wasn't asking too much right? Wrong. You were lucky your body had gotten into the rhythm of waking up at sunrise cause this was a goliath task. Hauling 15 kayaks from one side of the lake to the other wasn't something you’d factored into your morning of rest and relaxation. You’d planned to take a secret dip, maybe grab a coffee, take a shower if you had time. But no, you were out sweating under the morning sun, huffing like a workhorse.

When the last kayak was hauled into the dirty little shed you reclined on the desk, all dusty and grotty but it didn’t even matter. Heck, you weren't even perturbed by the smug house spider that was perched close to your palm, not even giving a second thought to the porn magazine discarded beside your head. All you could think about was how this wasn't what you’d bargained for when you agreed to go on this little jaunt up to the northwest, oh yeah, and how much you hated Joel Miller.

After a couple of minutes of huffing and puffing, grumbling to yourself about how you were meant to be in LA by now, living a rich and famous life as some kind of starlet, a model, an actress maybe. The shed was a mess, every surface littered with junk. There was fishing equipment, books, more beer cans than you could count, the whole thing screamed Joel.

Soon, without even meaning to, your nimble fingers were straightening objects, tossing the cans into the bin, dusting, flicking through boxes, you even took the spider outside.

“Hey,” You heard a jumpy voice from behind you, clearly receiving the same fright you’d got from the sound of his voice. “What are you-” It was Joel, an accusatory expression all over his knitted brow. He saw the small desk bin behind your back, the cans in it, he saw the neat shelves and dusted desk with all his papers stacked orderly.

“Hey hey hey, I have a system..” Joel bolted over to where you stood, snatching the bin out of your hands, his knuckles grazing yours, you were in deep if such a small gesture made your heart drop so far down. “There's a system,” he repeated, running a hand through his hair and leaning back on his uncluttered desk, looking… pained, addled by the whole thing.

You scoffed, enjoying seeing Joel off guard, it was always you getting snuck up on, getting caught in a vulnerable situation. “Is the system complete chaos, cause wow Joel, im impressed,” you put your hands on your hips, your little red shorts riding dangerously high.

“No one asked you to go messing in my affairs,” he tutted, rubbing his brow, god he was a drama queen.

“Your affairs?” you laughed maniacally, “By your affairs do you mean a few dozen beer bottles, some dusty kayaks and your crusty spank bank mag?”

He scoffed, looking down at the magazine down on the desk. He'd been got, he’d give you that. “Just clear off, don’t need your bitchin,” He turned his back on you, tampering with your neat new order on his desk, “too damn early,”

You were furious, not even a thank you? If not for drastically improving his workspace, at least for stacking the kayaks, a lot of work if you did say so yourself. “Are you kidding,” you whined, walking up to stand behind him, trying to get his attention.

“I’ve been doing hard fucking labour, sleepy head, what were you doing? Jerking it into a porn mag I'm guessing?” he chuckled at this, turning over his shoulder to look at your exasperated expression. “Hard labour?” he murmured, audibly amused by your claim.

“Oh you poor thing,” he mocked, turning round fully to look at you, “Doll, you ain’t done a day of hard labour in your pretty little life.” He smirked wildly.

“You don’t know a thing about my life Miller,” you said, sounding like some cheesy cowboy movie, his accent rubbing off on her a little. This caused a full belly laugh to erupt from him, it caught you off guard.

“Your life ain't nothin’ but sunshine and rainbows, sugar, maybe a day’a ‘hard labour’ would do you some good.” He chuckled, walking across the room and correcting the ‘mess’ you made of his ‘system’. “Fuck you,” you bellowed, crossing your arms, your eyes wide and full of fury as you watched him in all his casual, condescending glory.

“You are maybe the most infuriating motherfuck on this damn earth,” you said through your teeth, so mad, so hot, so done with it all. He just chuckled again, raising his eyebrows, you were starting to just want his attention, wanting him to reciprocate your anger, not caring how you got there.

“And by the way, I don't care how you see it, I've been up all morning slaving away at something I am certainly not paid for and I don't even get a thank you?” You blurted out, the words falling out of you, you convinced yourself you felt sweat actually drip from your chin.

He turned to you, annoyingly amused, but there was something else, an underlying rage that really disrupted the usual sedate presence he provided. “Thank you?” He smirked, quirking an eyebrow.

You paused, never had you ever felt so damn angry at a man. “Listen up-” you began with a huff before being interrupted by Joel stalking over to you with a hostile smirk on his face. Towering over you even though you were a similar height, you backed up against his desk very slightly, trying to keep your chin raised cockily.

“Are you always this fuckin’ cranky?” he shook his head in amused disbelief and let out an exasperated scoff at the stuttering look on your face.

You could feel your heart beating like that of a hamster, hammering against your chest. He was so close you could smell him, old spice deodorant, campfires, the slightest tang of sweat and lake water, also the musty dust smell of the shack, you thought you might faint like some Victorian chick.

He was close, too close for comfort, his muscular frame, the threat of a non-sedate Joel wasn't something that settled you. You gazed into those eyes of his, narrow and all-seeing under a thick, heavy brow. “How’re we gonna cheer you up, huh kiddo?” He raised his eyebrows in mock concern, your mouth was left agape, eyes so wide they might pop. Joel was closer now, looking down at her very slightly, his breath fanned over her face. Holy fuck.

“Can’t have you all bitchy after doin’ me one little task, now can we?” He said after a beat, placing his hand on your jaw, wiping away a caked bit of dirt, probably from all that ‘hard labour,’ his big thumb moved from your jaw to swipe across your lips softly, gently feeling the plush, pillowy skin, freshly chapstick-ed from the Carmex in your pocket. “Can we, sugar?” he repeated the rhetorical question down at you. She shook her head lightly, the obedience hitting her like a 10 foot wave.

“That's better, that's it, that's better,” He said softly, like he was talking to a jumpy animal. “Not so hard being a nice girl is it now? Not so bad?” he cocked his head and raised her brow, she shook her head absentmindedly once more, completely entranced by whatever was happening to her right here against Joel's desk.

He nodded, his hand darting between your teeth, his other fingers holding your jaw still underneath. The other hand rested precariously on your thigh, leaning closer so you were sat up on the desk, right beside the dirty mag.

He let his hand trace drowsy circled under the hem of your shorts, his eyes following, “Think you're cute?” he smirked, his eyes told a different story, taunting, stormy. “walkin' round in those little damn shorts, all prissy, like you own the place?” He said darkly, almost to yourself, holding your eyes with his, his thumb swiping between your teeth, pressing the pad against your tongue. “Suck,” You did it straight away, hollowing your cheeks out and letting whatever this was happen.

You convinced yourself it was some kind of gross fever dream, being out in the heat for the last few days had given you hallucinations, but it felt real, the taste was real on your tongue, his taste. you lapped it up like medicine.

He clenched his jaw and gazed at your lips wrapping around his thick thumb, fuck. His fingers grazed the seam of your bikini bottoms under your shorts, he could already feel how warm you were down there, how much this was getting to you. He held eye contact with you as he pulled your shorts off, motioning for you to lift your ass, you were feeling compliant, a rare feeling.

Your bikini bottoms followed, leaving you bare on the desk, the lifeguard top riding up your midriff revealing your glistening (very 70s (interpret that however you like)) cunt to the daylight that streamed in through the open door - a risk Joel seemed to be taking, or something he probably hadn't even considered.

He rolled his neck, his hands on his hips, he seemed to be considering his options, weighing up the consequences. You pushed your knees together, hoping for a little modesty, the answer was no as Joel's big hands reached down and parted your legs once again.

“Ah, ah, baby,” he smirked wildly, truly a man starved. He reached down and dragged his finger between your folds, holding the wet digit to the light. It was all achingly slow, he sucked his finger clean, his eyes on yours as he tasted you, letting out a gruff, guttural groan.

“This gonna keep you sweet?” he said with an icy smirk, her skin was like a furnace; a sweaty, wet, flustered, confused puddle on this desk, dripping everywhere. “Keep you outta my way for a couple days maybe, kiddo?” He chuckled, looking at her domineeringly. “How’s that sound?”

You nodded eagerly, your expression desperate, whiny, you needed this bad. “When you touch yourself, whadd’ya think 'bout?” he taunted, leaning a hand either side of your hips on the desk, “You,” you gave in, it was just too easy when he talked to you like that.

“Show me,” He smirked, his words almost a growl, you raised your eyebrows. “Your a pretty little idiot aren'cha?” Now he was just being mean. “Touch yourself the way you do when you're in your cabin, up in your bunk, squirmin’ around,”

It was so easy, to let him order you around, to succumb to it. The heat, all the bantering, it had melted you into putty in his hands, it’d get to anyone. So there you were, on Joel Miller's desk, bare on the bottom half, your hand drawing tight circles around your aching clit.

“Fuck,” you bit down on your lip, it was all overwhelming, the feeling of an orgasm coiling around your spine, the blistering, green-house-type heat that had you all rosy and sweaty, the fact that Joel was stood right there, crossing his arms, watching you like a hawk. You knew he’d be a voyeur.

You watched as his wire snapped and he’d had enough of just watching, adjusting the tent in his shorts. He knelt down in front of you, his eyes looking bigger than usual from this angle, wilder almost feral. he pulled at your hips violently, hoisting you around so your back was flat against the desk, your head leant up against the wall so you could watch exactly what he was going to do to you.

His mouth was hot against you, licking a stripe up your seam. You could’ve sworn you heard him moan at the taste, felt the vibrations against your core. “This cunt is wasted on Keenan,” He chuckled, not even pulling away from you to lay his jab at Billy, he never could resist the chance.

You moaned loudly, your hair flying into his hair, feeling the chocolatey, salt and pepper ends in your fingers and you pulled hard, close now. “Don’t fucking stop,” you whimpered, grinding your hips against his face, nose deep in your pussy.

“Fuck, does he kiss it this good, doll?” He murmured, the vibrations of his baritone drawl against your aching clit were enough to make you toss your head back in sheer ecstasy, that coil winding uncomfortably tight, threatening to snap.

“He doesn't.” you chuckled through moans, Billy had never ever eaten you out, no matter how many killer blowies you’d served to him on a silver platter. This seemed to appal Joel, who only licked deeper, slower against you, it was agonisingly good, toe curling. He scoffed down there, his thick index finger working at your hole now, dipping in easily despite how tight you were.

“Poor thing, thas’ why you're so wound up,” He mewled from below, his voice patronising, taunting, but it touched you, “haven’t had someone take care of this pretty cunt in too long hmm? shit, I’d be mean too.” He said with a wet smirk, pulling away to slot another finger in, but you wouldn't give. “Won’t be able to take my cock if you can take two fingers down here,” He chuckled, taunting you further.

“Please don't stop Joel,” you squealed, pulling his hair painfully tight between your fingers, his condescending words only making you hotter, you weren’t usually into that, but shit, Joel could be wearing a fucking tutu and you’d be into it, come to think of it…

He was grinning smugly as he pushed his fingers into you at a gruelling pace, the desk shook underneath you, your head thrown back against the wall. “Billy hasn't done me any damn favours down here, you're tight as a virgin, baby,” you could see the smirk on his stupid face even with your eyes clenched shut.

Your release hit harder than it ever had before, your leg shook hard, a string of ‘fuck’s and ‘holy shit’s, laced with a fair pinch of ‘Joel’s and ‘baby’s, blurted out of your lips, you felt your abdomen clench and moaned incoherently, but Joel wasn't quitting, still kitten licking at your inflamed core, fingers curling up and into you, finding a new depth with every push.

“Joel stop, it-its,” you panted, not even recognising your own voice now, your vision blurred. Overstimulated didn't even sum it up, that shit hurt.

He didn't care, lost in your taste, lost in the feeling of you clenching around his digits. “Cocky little lifeguard, you're the bane of my life, you know that sweetie?” He said against your wetness, not giving a flying fuck how uncomfortable this was getting, knowing soon you’d ride it into another earth-eating orgasm.

“Really shouldn't be doin’ this with’ya, Can’t be,” He said over your moans as the discomfort bled into insatiable pleasure, the desk hard against your clammy ass, your release leaking down your thigh and pooling below you. “Holy fuck-” you squealed, your hand on his shoulder to stop yourself from collapsing, the other interwined in his thick hair, that must’ve hurt.

“How old even are you?” he asked with a mischievous chuckle, pulling his face away and slowing his hand movements, no no no no no. Your brain was fuzzy, all you could process was that Joel had stopped and that felt like death. “20,” She said quickly, needing him to continue. He knew what he was doing, taking a moment to process, watching the way you were squirming, so desperate for him yet again.

“You're too young for me, kiddo,” He said as he dove back into your crotch, a very contradictory statement when reflected against his actions so far this morning, i know. “I am not,” you bit back through a whimper, pouting, your eyes fluttering shut once again.

“How old’re you anyways,” you panted, your words all broken and high pitched, too fucked-out to feel humiliated. “76?” You chuckled, feeling your second orgasm of the morning chasing after you.

He bit down ever so slightly on your clit, causing you to wince and buck your hips, it didn't cause any damage or hurt, just hard enough to shut your bratty ass up. “49, missy,” he replied coldly from below you. “Watch it,”

“You wanna take my 76 year old cock next? think you can take it?” He smirked, pulling away to focus on his hand movements, in and out, hitting that spongy part of you, deeper than you could ever get. You nodded, words almost escaping you for the first time in your smart-ass life. He chuckled deeply at this, a hearty sound you were starting to crave like a meth-head. “She’s a trooper, ain’t she?” He breathed in your ear, planting a small, firm kiss on your neck, his fingers gaining a bruising pace, loud wails escaping your quivering lips.

“Fuck j-joel,” you stammered, your hot breath fanning against his neck, “want, need your cock,” you were getting needy, washed up by the incoming wave of your orgasm, ready to hit just as hard as before, if that was physically possible. “Don't get greedy now,” He smirked down at you, eyes wild. Hot tears were rolling down your cheeks, salty and stinging, your body shaking, giving way to another tortuous release.

He pulled his hand away and sucked eagerly at his drenched fingers, watching as you came apart on the desk, moaning and whining for him.

He sat you up, grabbing a coke from his outdoor refrigerator and leaning against it as he opened it, muscles flexing he clicked it open, tossing the bottle opener to the side and handing it to you. You grasped it with clammy palms, your vision slowly coming back, your body still fucked-out and trembling, cock-dumb for a cock you hadn't even had.

“Welp,” He put his hands on his hips, like some suburban dad done with a barbecue, “that was real nice, weren't it?” He patted you on the shoulder, ignoring the bewildered expression on your face.

“Duty calls, kids’ll be down here in an hour or so,” he slapped his thighs and raised his eyebrows, it was as if he’d just given you a friendly handshake, not eaten you out and made you cum twice.

“Aren’t you going to..” you stopped yourself, you’d been awaiting the next round, (even if you weren't sure you could take another round) the one he’d talked about with that same smug look on his face as he finger-fucked you.

He grinned down at her, ruffling your hair, “another time hey kiddo?” he said kindly, but it was perhaps the furthest thing from kind you’d ever seen. You glared up at him in disbelief, mouth agape, cheeks rosy, skin glassy from tears of pleasure, you didn't even know that was a thing. He patted you on the shoulder, smiling earnestly, that glint of mischief turned to one of absolute cruelty in his eyes.

“Atta’ girl.”

And he was gone. Joel was out the door as quickly as he’d entered, leaving you panting, bottomless and flushed and sweaty, your shorts half way across the room, the coke bottle dampening your fingers.

He’d really done a number on you, gotten you all needy and riled up, then done something to you that no one had ever bothered with. Then he’d just left, like it wasn't the best you’d ever felt, like you hadn't been imagining how many babies you were going to give him, what colour flowers’d be in your bouquet at the wedding.

It was embarrassing; being humiliated yet a-fucking-gain by a man well over twice your age, legs trembling on the soaked desk, the model on the front of his porno magazine beside you grinning up at you smugly, fucking bitch.

#pedro pascal #girlblogging #joel miller #1970s #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #lana del rey #enemies to lovers #mean!joel #perv!joel #wowowowowoww

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getlostsquidward · 3 years

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admire you from afar — the fellowship teases you about your crush on lady galadriel.

let the wind carry the words i have — you and the lady of lothlorien had been dancing around each other for a millennium now, neither of you ready to acknowledge your feelings for one another. or, none of you wanted to be the first to confess.

let them catch wind of our love — galadriel can be a bit protective and jealous when it comes to you, though she won’t admit it.

gold rush — the level of intimacy between you and your childhood friend and king thranduil stirs up an unknown feeling within galadriel.

miscellaneous

brie evantee

what a zinger — a dinner with the brie evantee. gay awakening ensues.

marion loxley

aimed at my heart — the hammering of your heart was so fast you don’t know if it was because of the adrenaline, the happiness from your achievement, or the feeling of marion in your arms. maybe all three.

hange zoë

love you for a long time — nothing new, just hange and you being oblivious idiots and levi (disgusted and) tired of it.

addison montgomery

request denied — you wanted to be on dr. montgomery's service for the day, but you don't have a say on the matter – bailey's the boss.

jennifer barkley

reset, restart, replay — you were sure you had mastered the no strings attached formula, but this was different. jennifer barkley was a different equation.

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scarlettjohanssons-mistress · 2 years

Text

I Missed You

Warnings: Mommy Kink, pure smut, orgasm denial and therefore 18+ only, a bit of fluff

Word count: 1.5 K

Pairing: Lou Miller x Fem!Reader

Prompt: Y/N shows Lou how much he missed her

Requests: OPEN

[Main masterlist] [Ocean's 8]

'I'll be there soon, I'm 15 minutes from the loft'

As soon as Lou's message arrived, I put my plan into action. I made the bed perfectly, made sure all the bath salts were in place, made sure I had Lou's favorite treats in the fridge, along with a nice special dinner.

And without realizing it, I heard the engine of a motorcycle approaching, so I ran to the room to change.

The door opened and closed quickly

“Y/N, I'm home. Where are you?"

"Up"

I could hear slow, purposeful footsteps going up, until suddenly the door to our room opened, letting Lou see me, sitting right in the middle of the bed.

"Hello, love" I saw how his eyes traveled all over my body, from my bare legs, to my transparent red lingerie set, which left nothing to the imagination, my neck, my arms that played with my belly and one of my nipples, even my hair that fell in waves down my back "I missed you"

"Oh honey, I missed you too"

I raised my index finger indicating her to come closer, and when she did, I took her tie and guided her to the armchair that was in front of the bed.

"You're going to sit there and you're going to stay put until I tell you otherwise, okay?"

"Hmm, are you going to put on a show?" I could feel her Aussie accent intensifying even more, causing me to rub my thighs together just to release a bit of tension in my core.

"I'll show you how much I missed you"

" Mmm , yes baby, show me how much you missed me"

I didn't answer him again, I just sat down on the edge of the bed again, while I took the vibrator that I had hidden between the sheets. I turned it on and started running it over my thighs.

Still looking into her eyes, I placed the vibrator on my clit causing a gasp to come out of my mouth and Lou's eyes turning a much deeper blue, making the wet spot grow faster.

“ Mmm Lou, I'm so wet”

I began to move the vibrator faster, while my mouth did not stop letting out moans

"Move those panties, let me see you, princess"

With my left hand I pushed the panties aside, while the right hand guided the vibrator to my nipple, so that Lou could see my wetness.

" Mmm , my girl's been good at keeping her hands off her pussy while mom's gone, right?"

“Yes, mommy, I was a good girl”

With Lou's dirty words, and the stimulation to my clitoris and breasts, I had my first orgasm; It was good, but nothing compared to the ones I had when Lou fucked me.

“Do you want mommy to fuck you now?

"Yes please"

Lou quickly got up and walked over to face me; made me lie closer to the pillows; He spun me around and lifted my butt.

"Colour, princess?"

“Green, mommy”

He brushed my hair aside and took a bite out of my neck making me groan.

“You look so pretty like that” she slapped my butt hard making me scream into the pillow “and all for your mommy, right, little princess?

“You are only for me, only I can see how you moan, like a whore, only for a simple touch”

I push my hips and move them, causing my clit to rub against the mattress.

"M-mommy... p- please"

“Beg me to fuck you”

"Mommy, please, I need you to fuck me"

With his strong arms, he turned me around again, facing me.

"Come on, baby, you can do better" she began to take off her clothes until she was in her underwear

"Please m-mommy, I need your dick, I want you to fill me with your dick"

"Do you really want it?"

"Yes please"

" Mmm , just because you're such a good girl." When I thought he was going to kiss me, he just grabbed my jaw with his right hand and dug his thumb and forefinger into my cheeks.

"Colour?"

"Green"

"Open your mouth" I was obedient and opened it, she accumulated saliva dripping slowly until it fell into my mouth "now swallow"

I did, while she opened the drawer next to the bed to get the harness out of her; she put it on and took the lubricant that was in the same drawer, while ripping my underwear off my body. Stroking her cock, I grab my nipple and suck on it making me moan.

"Are you ready, princess?"

"Yes"

"Colour?"

“Green, mommy”

She inserted her cock carefully, but when she bottomed out, she started thrusting fast and hard.

"Ahhh, mommy, faster, please"

“My love, you are feeling too noisy, do you want me to put a gag on you?” hit my clit and had to hold back a scream

"I'm not sorry"

She came back with the steady beat, but I found it nearly impossible to keep from screaming, so I groaned again.

"You leave me no choice, bitch"

I grab my panties and stuff them into my mouth, implicitly leaving the language of hitting as safe words.

“Fuck” Lou moaned feeling the walls of my pussy squeeze her rubbery length “yeah baby work mommy's dick squeeze my dick”

I moaned as I moved, trying to make his thrusts go faster.

“Don't cum,”

I didn't even let myself think a bit beyond staying silent as the second orgasm hit me, while she stood still. The orgasm was so strong that I had to close my eyes tightly and my legs trembled, she quickly

“I thought I made myself pretty clear, honey. What was my only instruction to you?”

“Don't cum,”

"And what did you do?"

“I came .”

"Oh princess. I bet you really wish you hadn't."

"Sorry mom"

"Do you think that a simple 'I'm sorry' would fix everything?, no, princess" He took off the harness, and she began to undress "I think you'll have to please mom to take away my anger"

"Yes mommy, please. Let me taste you. Sit on my face”

She knelt down, bringing her knees to either side of my face, but still too far away to get a little taste.

"Colour?"

"Green"

"What's our signal to stop?"

“Three pats on the thigh”

"Perfect. Now, make mommy feel good”

I quickly lower her hips until she sits shallowly on my face, so I quickly lift my head to start licking her pussy.

"Yeah, just like that, baby, you're so good"

She took a handful of my hair and rubbed it against my face.

Not only had he missed her, he knew she had arrived exhausted; Debbie had kept her pretty busy on a new heist, so she deserved a break and a quick release.

So, I placed my lips on her clit and began to suck, as my left hand circled her leg and my fingers from my free hand started to go into her pussy.

"You're going to make me cum, keep doing that!" She gripped my hair tighter, pulling me against her pussy to the point where it was hard to breathe. My movements became sloppy, but that only seemed to please her, as she began to let out deep, hoarse gasps, until I felt her walls tighten around my fingers and moisture from her ran down my cheeks.

“Oh honey, you were a good girl to mommy” she got up, only to take my hand in hers and lick my chin, tasting her own juices “I think you deserve a reward, what do you think?

"Yes mommy, please"

“Mmm, perfect manners. I love you darling. Colour?"

"Green"

Now, she spread my legs, to fit perfectly between them, to quickly put her center on mine, making us both moan with pleasure.

She started to move quickly as she hid my face in her neck, thanks to her height, greater than mine.

"What a good girl, and only for mom" she took a new angle that made the intensity of her thrusts increase, making me lose my breath

"You move so well"

“You look so fucking pretty like that. moaning like a whore for your mommy”

Just when she thought she was finally going to have an orgasm, Lou stopped moving.

"Come on honey, get what you want"

I started to move my hips, rubbing my clit against his, until it was too much for me.

"L-lou, mommy, I-I'm going to run"

"Yes, baby! Cum for me"

The orgasm hit me almost knocking me out, making me stop breathing for a few seconds, making my legs tremble and making moans come out of my mouth.

She didn't take long to reach orgasm either, so with the little strength she had left, she got off me and lay down next to me.

“Damn it, Y/N. If all our reunions are going to be like this, I'm going to go more often "

"Don't you dare, Miller!"

She just laughed and made me lay my head on her chest, while she scratched my scalp and kissed my head.

"As much as I want it, I can't be far from you"

"Me neither" I gave him a kiss on his jaw

"Would you like a shower?"

"Of course. I also got your favorite candy and your favorite movie”

“Mmm, you are the perfect woman”

He gave me a light kiss on the nose and led me to the bathroom, leaving behind the mess we had made with the sheets.

Note: I hope you enjoy it. Reblogs and likes are appreciated

#oceans eight #oceans 8 #lou miller #lou miller x reader #lou x reader #cate blanchett x reader #cate blanchett imagine #cate blanchett #lgbtq #smut #fem reader #lou miller smut

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syarina · 2 years

Text

My Favourite Blog

Smut~ Fluff~ Angst~ Dark~ Nothing~

Kathryn Hahn's Characters

Natasha Romanoff

Elizabeth Olsen's Characters

Female K-Pop Idol Blogs

The Vibrations of Your Voice ~ Maya Lopez

Love At First Sign ~ Maya Lopez

Talking Too Fast ~ Kate Bishop

Alcina Fluff ~ Alcina Dimitrescu

Fight Or Flight ~ Alcina Dimitrescu

Let You Down, Never Again ~ Thena

Please, Don't Break My Heart ~ Isabela Madrigal

Teachers ~ Female Avengers + Sharon Carter

Owned pt.2 pt.3 ~ Avengers

Your Little Heart Goes Pitter-Patter ~ Vampire!Valkyrie

Treat Me Like A Slut ~ Hela Odinsdottir

Smut Blurb ~ Hela Odinsdottir

Ride ~ Hela Odinsdottir

Change Of Pace ~ Lou Miller

Couldn't Wait ~ Kate Bishop

Hate Sex ~ Kate Bishop

Puppy Love ~ Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova

Why So Quiet? ~ Maddy Perez

Pretty Girl ~ Maddy Perez

Eat Me ~ Maddy Perez

Smut Drabble, Part.2 ~ Maddy Perez, Cassie Howard

Head While Asleep ~ Jenna Ortega

My Confession ~ Jenna Ortega

Just You ~ Jenna Ortega

Whiner ~ Lorraine Day

You're Mine ~ Camila Montes

Owned ~ Tara Carpenter

Infidelity ~ Amber Freeman, Tara Carpenter

Smut drabble~ Jill Roberts, Amber Freeman

7 Minutes In Heaven ~ Jill Roberts

Punishment and Bargaining ~ Madison Montgomery

Scream Female Characters ~ Sam Carpenter, Jill Roberts, Amber Freeman, Mindy Meeks-Martin, Sidney Prescott

Size Queen ~ Jotun!Loki Laufeyson

Release ~ Bucky Barnes

Sub Yandere Steven Grant x Male Reader

Reclaiming A Legacy ~ Amber Freeman

Because I Love You ~ Amber Freeman

Skin Deep ~ Tara Carpenter

Your Fault ~ Jill Roberts

It's Okay ~ Jill Roberts

Y/N Cracking Someone's Skull Because They Were Flirting With Alcina

Imagine Natasha and Wanda teasing Yelena about her crush on you ~ Yelena Belova

I Wish I Knew You Wanted Me ~ Tess Servopoulos

RE8 Ladies Reaction ~ RE8 Ladies

Watch and Learn ~ Yelena Belova

Safe and Sound ~ Tess Servopoulos

#smut #angst #fluff #female reader #marvel characters

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amerrierworld · 3 years

Text

First Meetings

for @me-goro: Lou x fem! reader in which they don't know of each other at first but with time fall for each other and get together?

AHGJKSG THIS IS SUPER LATE WHOOPS IM SORRYYYY

Summary: You’re an intern for Rose Weil and meet Lou and Debbie when they visit her fashion show.

Characters: Lou Miller x fem!reader, Debbie Ocean, Rose Weil

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: none :)

From what you could tell, the show had been an absolute disaster. Your boss Rose had disappeared among the endless rows of clothes and accessories. You caught a glimpse of her disappearing with a jar of Nutella and a spoon maybe half an hour ago, practically hyperventilating.

One of the makeup artists snapped her fingers to stop you zoning out and you got back to work with switching her brushes and palettes that she was using, like a surgeon performing a heart transplant.

You got this job expecting a bit of experience. Maybe some original designs, applying makeup yourself, collaborating... but you were stuck assisting and fetching coffee for those more experienced.

“I swear to God if I catch you dozing one more time-” the lady threatened, snapping again to get your attention. “Pass me that blush, now.”

You sighed. Eventually when the model was done, you were dismissed for a little break. You went to get a coffee and thought of Rose that was hiding somewhere. So you got two coffees instead.

You dodged models, stylists and photographers left and right until you stumbled upon Rose Weil sitting crosslegged on the floor. Her mess of blonde hair could not go unnoticed anywhere.

She had been the one to interview you for the internship, and was incredibly kind to you. You were disappointed when you realized how little you actually had the chance to work with her so far.

But when you approached Rose with two hot cups of coffee in your hands you realized she wasn’t alone. Two very stylish women were by her sides, seemingly trying to soothe her as you approached. The blonde caught you eye, because she was wearing a beautiful baby blue suit, and you thought she would have been amazing to walk down the catwalk in exactly that.

The three looked up as you neared and you smiled shyly.

“Coffee, Miss Weil?” you asked, holding it out.

“Oh, Y/N,” she exclaimed, delighted to see you. “Oh, you’re such a sweet girl, but if I have anymore caffeine I might completely lose my mind right now.”

“No, no, of course. I was just wondering, I accidentally made two,” you lied hastily. You eyed the blonde and brunette that were hanging out with your boss. The two shared a mutual look, and you took a chance.

“Either of you want coffee? It’s got cream and a bit of vanilla.”

“Yeah, sure,” the blonde’s voice rumbled through your ears down your entire body. She stood up and accepted the cup, taking a languid gulp.

“Careful, it’s... hot.”

She grinned. The temperature didn’t seem to phase her.

“So, what do you say, Rose?” the brunette looked at your boss, who was still prodding with a spoon at her Nutella.

“Yes, yes, of course. I haven’t got too many options, do I?”

You barely registered what they were talking about as the blonde smiled at you for a second.

“You do make a good cup of coffee,” she complimented you. You huffed out a laugh,

“Well, it’s all they really let me do around here.”

“You a fashion designer?”

“Uhm. Not quite. I’m just an intern here.”

“Oh my days, Y/N is a genius!” Rose interrupted from the floor. “So much potential. So much better than me. God, I wish this job deserved you.”

You giggled nervously at her comments, flattered but a bit worried, because Rose did look a little like she was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

“Well, maybe Y/N would be interested in helping you out on this job?” the blonde suggested. The way she said your name was intoxicating. She had a slight Australian lilt that made you swoon.

“Not part of the plan.” The brunette shot a sharp look at her friend, who shrugged.

“Plans change, Debs. What’s one more?”

The brunette -Debs?- rolled her eyes, moreso at the blonde than at you. “Alright, fine.”

The blonde grinned at you, sipping more coffee, before offering a handshake. Her fingers were entirely bejewelled with gorgeous rings. You shook it as firmly as you dared.

“I’m Lou, by the way. So, if you’re up for joining the team... Why don’t we talk about it over... more coffee? On me this time.”

“Very smooth, Lou.”

“Shut up Deb.” Lou angled herself to fully focus on you and block Deb out of your vision, much to your amusement. “Coffee?”

“Yeah,” you said without hesitation. “Let’s.”

The coffee date was a lovely date, all discussion about crime aside. You were easily swept up with the Ocean team, whether it was because of the promised money, or the sultry blonde sitting across from you.

For the date she wore a vest with a deep neckline and a littering of necklaces dipping into the cleavage. You tried your very very best not to look too often.

“I’ve never been to the Met, actually. Should be fun,” you shrugged after her careful question to join the group. You sipped your hot drink from a mug that sat comfortably and heavily in your hand. There was rain rumbling on the New York streets outside.

“You’re the first to call it fun,” Lou grinned. “Remember, it’s a job too.”

You lowered your voice to reply, “look, whether or not it’s illegal, it’ll still be loads more fun than my current job. I fetch coffees and clean makeup brushes for a bunch of stuck-up artists.”

Lou chuckled, drinking her black coffee. You learned she didn’t usually enjoy things in her coffee, which made the fact that she accepted your cheap coffee offer from when you met even better.

“This is perfect movie weather, don’t you think?” you commented, watching the soft rain outside.

“I suppose so. I’m rather disappointed actually.”

“Why?”

“Well, I had been hoping to take you on a romantic bike ride around the city, maybe even the parks. That’s not very plausible when it’s raining.”

You giggled, “We could recreate that scene from the Notebook?”

“God, no,” Lou groaned, smiling stupidly. “I’ll definitely catch a cold in this.”

“Wanna catch a movie with me, then?”

Lou eyed you for a moment, and you felt something warm spread inside your chest just from the way she looked at you.

“I’ll do you one better. Come over and we’ll watch a movie at my place instead. It’ll be free and I’ll make us popcorn that’s better than cinema popcorn.”

You tapped your chin in feigned thought. “That’s a bold claim.”

“There’ll be alcohol.”

“Alright, you’ve convinced me.”

The both of you laughed as you left the cafe, hurrying to a cab in the downpour.

Lou helped squeeze water out of your hair in the cab, and you took the chance to lean back into her hold. She chuckled deeply and let you sink into her side, her arm draping over your shoulder on the way home.

There was an unspoken familiarity between the two of you since you had met. You had texted consistently, asking questions and slowly getting to know each other. A small part of you was worried that you didn’t quite know her- criminals tended to be secretive, didn’t they?

But you really didn’t have a worry. It had been lovely, and romantic, and stupidly adorable thus far.

Once you reached the front door of here place, Lou struggled a little with the keys from the rain in both your faces.

“So is this actually your place, or are we breaking in right now?” you said when she led you inside.

“Oh, haha, very funny.”

The loft was spacious, much to your delight. You asked to use her washroom, and you were able to distinguish that this was in fact Lou’s home, from the amount of short eyeliner pencils and mascaras filling the bathroom drawers.

When you came back, kernels were popping away in the microwave, and the Notebook was ready to play on the TV. You chortled at the sight, hurrying over to the couch and flopping down on it.

“Can I have some space on my own couch, please?” Lou grinned, settling in next to you. She sat a few inches from you, probably trying to give you some personal space or something. But you reached over to the popcorn bowl that she was holding, and after eating a mouthful, you cuddled up to her side, one hand permanently in the bowl.

At some point that evening her arm draped over your shoulder again, and you wrapped your arms around her waist. The movie kept playing, but you could only focus on her torso rising up and down with every breath underneath your ear.

The rain kept pouring as the sun wet down outside. When the movie finally neared the end, Lou whispered, as if she was going to interrupt the film,

“Do you need to be anywhere tonight? Or would you like to stay?”

The question startled you. You lifted your head to look at the blonde, her hand immediately coming to cradle your face, as if on instinct.

“Wanna get rid of me?”

“No, actually. On the contrary... I don’t think I want you to leave.”

You looked incredulously at her. “You already want to U-haul? That’s a bit stereotypical don’t you think?”

“Oh, bugger, you know that’s not what I meant,” she grumbled. You grinned at her adorable little frown, leaning forward and putting one hand on her chest and brushing your lips over her chin.

“I know what you meant,” you hummed, before your lips met.

Lou slowly responded to the kiss, her breath deepening. She wound her hands around you and pulled you into her lap. Ryan Gosling said something romantic in the background, but you hardly noticed because her fingers pressed against your back to nudge you closer.

When you pulled away, her face was flushed and her blue eyes were blown.

“I gotta say it now, darling. You’ve somehow turned my life upside down very, very quickly. You might be stuck with me.”

The unspoken familiarity grew even more, and you couldn’t help but agree with her before kissing her again.

“I don’t wanna mess up,” Lou muttered against your mouth. You tenderly traced her cheekbone down to her jawline.

“I don’t either. So I think we’ll be alright,” you replied sheepishly. “I’m not gonna run off as soon as the Met’s been robbed, I promise.”

“Oh, well thanks for now putting that idea into my head,” Lou huffed in response. You giggled and kissed her chin again, then her jaw, then her neck. She sank back into the cushions, pulling you even closer.

At one point you lost track of where you were going with your kisses and settled into the warmth she was exuding instead. You clung onto her and buried your face in her neck, nearly falling asleep.

“You’re missing the ending,” she whispered, hand raking through your hair.

“Don’t need it,” you replied, hands gripping her vest. “I’ve got everything I need here.”

A/N: Lou comfort is a 24/7 need for me, okay? I kinda didn’t do the “fall for each other with time...” I hope that’s alright o.o

#merry writes #amerrierworld #lou miller #lou x you #lou x reader #lou miller x reader #lou miller x you #oceans 8 #ocean's eight #oceans8 #cate blanchett #cate blanchett x reader #fem!reader #fanfiction #ocean's 8 fanfiction

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klvgers · 3 years

Text

don’t yell

pairing: lou miller x reader

summary: after a failed heist, lou thinks that your decisions were very careless.

word count: 515

warnings: lou’s a bit of a meanie in the beginning, but soft!lou at the end, hurt/comfort, angst

“lou, i’m sorry.” you apologized to your girlfriend as she pace around the bedroom. she ran her hands through her hair and cracked her knuckles. “i didn’t know-”

“y/n, you can’t be so careless on heists like this! you always think you can get away this certain things, but what if one day you don’t? what’s gonna happen?” lou exclaimed, already regretting her words. “i could get some help from the girls.” you hung your head low.

“but what if they don’t? i know that they would do anything for you or me, but if they physically can’t?!”she asked with her hands on her hips. “lou, i don’t know why we have to argue about this-”

“because you could’ve gotten caught, y/n! you could’ve went to prison! when they locked debbie up, it was scary. i didn’t want that to happen to you! cops were surrounding the building with guns pointed, do you understand that? god, we’ve went over that plan a thousand times, i don’t know how you messed this up!”

lou’s yells bounced off the wall and echoed throughout the room. she was right. you didn’t want to go to prison. how could you be so stupid? a quieted whimper came from you throat as fresh tears rolled down your face. you flinched when she held your hand, and you instantly tugged it away from her.

“hey, darling, i’m sorry.” lou almost whispered, her voice soft and delicate. “no, no, hey baby. why the crying, honey? it’s alright.” she crouched in front of you, rubbing your leg up and down, leaving occasional kisses on your knee. “can you look at me, baby? i’m not gonna yell at you, i just wanna see your pretty face okay?” you shook your head as your sos got louder.

“oh, angel.” lou stood the both of you up and brought you into her strong arms, kissing your head and whispering apologies in your ear. “m’ sorry lou, i didn’t mean to make you mad.” you barely got that sentence out because of how much you were crying. “you didn’t make me mad, sweetheart, i was just scared.” lou kissed your forehead this time, big waves of guilt washing over her. “i gotcha baby.”

“j-just don’t yell anymore, please.” lou’s heart broke. you sounded so pitiful, she almost broke into tears. she was so mad at herself. “yes darling, no more yelling. i won’t ever do it again, okay?” she promised and you nodded, muffling your hiccups into her jacket. she started to rock the two of you side to side, humming a song you love. you were surprised she remembered it.

once you calmed down, “i’m so sorry lou.” you apologized again, rubbing your eyes and sniffling. “ah ah baby, none of that. i should be apologizing. i was completely out of line, sweetheart. i just didn’t want to lose you, i couldn’t bare to live with myself. i love you so much. more than everything.” she hugged you tighter, this time she gave you a innocent peck on the lips.

“i love you too, lou.”

#a comfort fic with lou yes pls #oceans 8 #oceans 8 x reader #oceans 8 masterlist #lou miller #lou miller x reader #cate blanchett #cate blanchett x reader #i wrote this in like 15 minutes so here ya go

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drkmgs · 1 year

Text

Stories Update

Hi, hello!

These are the stories that are sitting in my drafts. Don't worry, I will finish them as soon as I sort my schedule out.

[Also, I'm still working on the I'm in love with the criminal. Pairing Lou Miller x Layla Bradford (OC)]

Thanks for reading! :3

In the meantime, here is my masterlist.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #lady lesso x you #lady lesso x reader #charlize theron x reader #charlize theron x you #lou miller x y/n #lou miller x you #lou miller #cate blanchett x fem! reader

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blackacre13 · 2 years

Note

Hi, this is super random but I'm out of options here. Do you know a Lou Miller x fem reader fanfic where Lou is some choir or music professor and she wants to have a relationship with her student, y/n, but can't bc debbie (who's also a professor) won't allow her bc she's her wife? I legit can't find this fanfic and I thought that you might know since you wrote a lot of great fanfic for these characters. :)

I’m actually not familiar with this one at all. The only other format I write/read on besides tumblr is Ao3. Was it Ao3 or something else? Maybe one of my followers knows. Fingers crossed you find it!🤞🏼

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sapphicforsarahh · 9 months

Note

MORE LOU MILLEE SMUT PLSSSSS DOM LOU SUB YN PLSS

word count: 1.1K

warnings: smut, top!lou x bottom!reader, dom!lou x sub!reader, lou miller x fem!reader, fingering (r receiving), oral (r receiving), praise

synopsis: Lou gets her eye on someone new at the bar

It had been a slow Wednesday night at the bar, like it usually was. Lou tried to keep her boredom low by cleaning and drying glasses, organising bottles and cleaning the bar. "Hey Nine, get yourself off early, its quiet tonight," she shouts to her co-worker in the back. Nine walks through and hands her apron to Lou, and notices the door opening. "I'll just serve this customer then I'll sign out," Nine says to Lou before approaching the bar.

Lou looks up to see who just walked in and she sees you. "Let me get this one Nine," Lou smirks. Nine nods and says her goodbyes. You had piqued her interest. Your feminine style, long hair and pretty face. She watches you walk to the bar and sit on a stool. "What can I get for you honey?" Lou puts on her sweetest voice and looks at you. "What do you recommend?", you look up for the first time and see who's serving you. A tall blonde wearing a deep red suit and a tie loosely hung around her neck, multiple layers of jewellery and bangs that were cut just above her blue eyes.

"Well, it depends if you like sweet or bitter drinks. Or strong?", Lou tries to find the perfect drink for you. Her gaze was too strong, you had to look somewhere else, your eyes fell to her perfectly shown cleavage and you blushed. "You okay sweetheart?", Lou's voice pulled you out of the your thoughts and her finger lifted your chin up to make you look at her. "I- uh, I like strong," you fumble out.

Lou chuckles and walks away to make you a drink. You try to compose yourself and take your jacket off, due to the quick increase in temperature. "Do you like martinis?", Lou questions. "I've never had one," you confess. "Perfect. You're about to have the best martini you'll ever drink. I'll even make it dirty," she smirks, her Australian accent being more prevalent than ever.

She begins shaking the cocktail and you watch attentively at her. With a final shake, she starts pouring the drink into the chilled glass and pours the olive juice in. "Here you go," Lou hands the glass over and watches you take the first sip. Your eyes close and you swallow the drink. "It's good," you nod. "I'm glad you like it," she smiles. After another sip, you reach for your purse and start getting money out of it. "How much is it?" You pull $10 out, and go to hand it to her. "It's on me pretty girl," she pushes your hand away.

"Do all girls drink for free in here?", you joke before watching her again. "Just the pretty ones," Lou smiles and sits down opposite you. The blush on your face worsened, thankfully the bar was dimly lit and she wouldn't be able to see it. "So what brings you here?" Lou questions. "Well," you look down and notice her name tag 'Lou', "Lou, I'm wanting to expand my horizons, if you get my meaning." She smirks, her name had never sounded so good. "Never been to a lesbian bar before?". "No never," you nervously reply.

"What's your name sweetheart?" Lou purrs. "It's Y/N," you take another sip. "Well Y/N, what are you looking for? A woman to go out on a date with or a one night stand? Because tonight, its quite bare in here," she chuckles. "There is one woman who's caught my eye," you start hinting.

The two of you keep talking until Lou checks her watch, 9:43pm. Everyone else in the club had left by now, it was just the two of you left. Lou's hand had made it to your thigh and your hand rested on her shoulder. "What do you say we take this somewhere more private?" Lou suggests. "There's no one here," you smirk. "Look who's bold," Lou smirks before kissing you and picking you up and placing you on the table behind. Both of you become more desperate as time goes on, Lou pinning your hips to the table whilst you claw at her back. "Please," you plead, wanting her to hurry up. "Begging already? We've only just started darling," she chuckles at your desperation and moves her lips down to your neck. You moan at her dominant words and try to be patient and let her do what she wants to you.

Lou begins kneeling in front of you, wrapping her hands around your calves and kneading them slightly. "What is it that you want?", she teases, knowing exactly what you want. You writhe under her touch, and you groan, not wanting to confess what you want. "Stop, squirming. Tell me what you want," she commands and starts pulling down your skirt. "You, fuck me Lou!", you moan out. "Was that so hard?" she teases and pulls your tights down, staring at your underwear. Her fingers rub the wet patch and she quickly pulls them down. "Fuck baby, you're so wet. All this for me?" she breathed onto your thigh.

At this point, you couldn't speak, all you could focus on was this older woman between your legs. "Spread your legs," she ordered and looked up at you. She couldn't get enough of you. The sight of your eyes shut and brows furrowed had her desperate to please you. As you opened your legs, she saw for the first time truly how soaked you were. Lou couldn't wait any longer, her mouth immediately attacked you, her lips sloppily making out with your glistening pussy. The sounds you were making urged her to keep going.

"I'm going to cum," you breathlessly moaned. "Don't you dare cum until I tell you to," Lou takes her mouth off you and inserts two fingers instead. "Shit!" You groan out and shut your legs. Lou prise your legs open and keeps fingering you. "How close are you," she rasps. "S-so close," you moan. Her fingers keep moving inside you at an insane pace. "Do you want to cum?", she teases. "Yes! Lou, let me cum," you chant. "Beg me for it," she once again rasps out.

You groan at her stubbornness, "please, please let me cum for you Lou, I need to cum so bad". Her fingers still rapidly moving in and out of you. Her free hand kneads your thigh, whilst her lips are attached to your ear. "Cum, now," she demands into your ear.

Your legs shake and snap shut as you cum all over her fingers, her thrusting continuing. "That's it, you did so good," she praises before carefully removing her fingers and licking them clean.

-----------

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#fanfic #lgbt #gay #cateblanchett #cate blanchett #lou miller #lou miller x reader #cate blanchett x reader #oceans 8 #oceans8 #oceans8imagine #oceans 8 imagine #lou miller x fem reader #lesbian

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themand0lorian · 3 years

Text

Impression, Sunrise-Part 8

Summary: The custody hearing comes, and a new path of your life begins.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader (no Y/N)

Rating: PG-13/a mild M (nondescript/suggestive sexual content)

Words: ~5000 (Read on AO3)

Tags: Idiots to lovers, nondescript/suggestive sexual content, happy endings, heavy-handed art references, spoilers for various romance movies (I linked each scene with the line associated if you really wanna be ~immersed~, I know not everyone is as into romance movies as me), Miller’s back but less of an ass, FEELINGS

Notes: This is the last part of the main series! I have several short, slice-of-life/one-shots planned, some that take place in the timeline of the story and some that are after, but with no specific time plan in mind for posting. These will also likely be posted out of order, as the inspiration hits.

Anyway, THANK YOU to everyone for your support during this story! This is one of my first interactions with fandom on a long-term basis, and I can’t express how much I loved hearing from you, talking with you, etc!

TAGLIST for this story is closed, since it is over! Please let me know if you don’t want to be tagged in my random one-shots and I will remove you! Otherwise, you can sign up for my main taglist in my sidebar!

Taglist:@sugarontherims @ajeff855 @spideysimpossiblegirl @seasonschange-butpeopledont @imaginecrushes @giselatropicana @agingerindenial @supernaturalgirl @captain-jebi @lou-la-lou @pascalsimp @antisocialthat70sshow @dragcn-queen @sambucky21 @farfromjustordinary @fangirl-of-randomness @evelynseventyr @aquilacorvinal @uncle-kenobi @marydjarin @tanzthompson @elinedjarin @thewintersoldierswife @knowledgefulbutterfly @amneris21 @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @cinewhore @sarahjkl82-blog

On Monday, you put in your request for transfer to Cyber Crimes; same hours, same office but one floor up from Art Theft, and honestly, much more in your wheelhouse. You had resisted moving for so long out of loyalty to Marcus, but one look at Miller sneering at you confirms it’s the right choice. Carson seems to smirk knowingly at your joined entrance, nodding in approval before looking back to his desk.

Your transfer is accepted within the week, your new team ready for the help on their current case. You’re pleased to find your new boss is a woman, a healthy mix of both genders throughout the team. Everyone seems cordial and friendly, and Marcus helps you bring your things up to your new desk, placing down the box before squeezing your hand tightly and making his way back down to his office. You’re able to dive right in, another Immigration case coming across your desk that sends a pang through your heart at the memory of Grace and Eli.

You and Marcus debate calling Lisa several times over the next few weeks, but also remember how busy you had been with the kids at first, and decide against it until she can get into a better routine. You know she may be struggling as a new single parent of two and so you don’t bother her, despite how desperately you both wanted to know about Eli’s new preschool and if Grace said her first word.

Instead, you and Marcus fall fully into each other. You knew each other as agents, as coworkers, as parents, but it was time to know each other as a couple. Calling Marcus your “boyfriend” after everything you went through together didn’t seem like enough; you felt like you had known him forever. You found his phone background--the picture of you—and melted, he found your stash of pancake mix for when he was out of town hidden in the recesses of the cabinet, making him smirk. Every little detail, every idiosyncrasy brought a warmth to your heart you didn’t know was missing. It was undeniable, and even though Marcus said he moved too fast, you were ready to play fast and loose; Marcus was your person.

He showered you in adoration at any chance he got, and you tried your best to do the same; quick messages from his work computer about something that made him think of you, a dumb string of emojis sent to his work phone that takes him all day to figure out, until you cave and tell him (“Eggplant, water droplets, tongue-sticking-out? What does that mean?” turned into a show rather than a tell). A granola bar and a coffee appearing on your desk after a long meeting, his favorite takeout from across town being brought home for dinner.

He watches your “trash” romance movies, and you ignore the tears that fall and the way he squeezes you a bit tighter during the particularly emotional scenes. You cuddle into him further when he murmurs into your ear “That’s how I feel about you,” when Mr. Darcy announces “You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love…I love…I love you.” Place a small kiss to the corner of his mouth when he catches you watching him when Noah tells Allie, “I want all of you, forever, you and me, every day.” His nose presses into your hair, lips finding the crown of your head when Sam tells the radio doctor, “I knew it the very first time I touched her. It was like coming home...”

You never make it to Blaine’s “Here’s looking at you, kid,” after that first time you watched it together; tuning into each other was more interesting than the movie at hand, and you’re both left tangled and panting by the time Ilsa gets to the airstrip, but something tells you that just increases Marcus’ enjoyment of his favorite movie.

Though you seem to have stepped out of a romcom yourselves, the weight of the upcoming custody hearing tinges everything with an air of melancholy. You and Marcus will need to testify, to tell the judge how you found Eli and Grace and to explain any questions they have on the Bennetts’ involvement with Stanford. You will probably have to explain what happened to land Grace in the hospital, and Marcus assures you that it’s procedural and not because you did anything wrong, but guilt gnaws at you like an incessant tide.

The night before the hearing, Marcus finds you standing in the kitchen, leaning heavily on the counter staring out the window over the sink. Dark clouds have rolled in overnight, blocking the moonlight; your figure is only illuminated by the clock on the microwave, reading 3:13. He approaches slowly, pressing himself into your back and wrapping his arms over your shoulders to press a kiss to your temple when you startle at his presence.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” you whisper, not looking to him.

“You didn’t, just noticed you weren’t holding me like a koala and came to find you,” he murmurs sleepily into your hair. You let out a small chuckle, looking down to your hands.

“I just miss them, you know?”

“Yeah, I miss them too,” he replies, and turns you toward him for a real hug. The counter is cutting into your hips as he presses into you, sleepily nuzzling your neck.

“It just…it feels so final,” you speak softly into his shirt, and he pulls you away from the counter, like you could get any closer. He starts to drowsily sway you back and forth as he speaks.

“I know. It’s not going to be easy. But it’s the right thing to do,” he hums, and you nod into his shoulder. He keeps swaying you there, like some tune only he can hear is playing, until he starts to hum it aloud softly. You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…

“Are you trying to sing me to sleep like the baby?” you chuckle, and he stops you from pulling back; instead, you lean into his rumbling chest further as he continues to sway you.

“That depends, is it working?”

The next morning, you’re standing outside of the courthouse, Marcus at your side holding a much-too-small umbrella between you both as you cup his bicep tightly. You’re tired after the night before, but you had to give it to Marcus; his humming made you drowsy, and he pulled you into bed as soon as you let out a yawn. Once out of the rain, he immediately grabs and squeezes your hand, trying to remain strong for you both before pulling you into the small courtroom.

It’s bare other than a few chairs and a podium at the front; several people, lawyers by the looks of them as well as Andrea, the CPS agent, gather toward the front, but your eyes immediately go to the bobbing head of curls running your way. Eli crashes into Marcus’ legs with a hug, and you feel his heart break through your combined hands, so you squeeze his tightly. Eli is hurriedly telling you both about everything you’ve missed in the past few weeks, looking sharp in a wrinkled collared shirt and khakis held up with little suspenders. Lisa makes her way over with Gracie; she’s wearing the tiny frilly dress you had found on your first trip with them, and Marcus squeezes your hand back when you notice it.

“He hasn’t stopped talking about you,” Lisa chuckles. She looks exhausted, like her knees may give out any moment, and overall, somewhat sickly, looking older than her years after only a few weeks. She’s pale and frazzled, and when she hands you Grace, she seems almost relieved to let her go. Before you can ask her if she’s okay, a judge calls the room to order and you find your seats in the gallery; Eli, Grace and Lisa sitting in the front.

The judge drones about a few definitions and rules, the kids getting antsy as he speaks. You want to give Eli the pen and paper in your bag to occupy him but think better against it, and he pulls out a few toys from a bag on the floor to stay busy. Andrea speaks first, outlining the children’s case, and the circumstances under which you and Marcus, followed by Lisa, took them on. The judge only nods as she speaks, and soon Marcus is called up to explain your sides of the story, and his hand leaving yours feels like he’s pulled your heart to the stand with him. He testifies with practiced ease, which you envy; even explaining the short hospital visit so you wouldn’t have to. Your heart bursts for the man, and when he’s finally dismissed back to his seat, you grab his hand as quickly as possible, lamenting the loss of it while he was testifying.

The judge determines Marcus’ explanation sufficient, and so you don’t end up taking the stand; you wonder if it’s a blessing or a curse. You want this to be over, but the sooner it’s over, the sooner these kids walk out of your life, and Marcus seems to feel that too. You both watch on intently as Lisa takes the stand, the judge asking her a few preliminary questions before getting to the point.

“Are you willing and able to take full custody of Grace and Elijah Bennett on behalf of your deceased sister and brother-in-law, Kerry Bennett-Spencer and Logan Bennett?”

“No,” Lisa replies softly, and it feels like your heart has been expelled from your body. The kids are busy with a book Eli found, unaware of the piercing quiet that’s fallen over the room as the lawyers look to each other. You look to Marcus, his mouth hanging open slightly, but he doesn’t look away from Lisa, and you turn your attention back to her when she speaks again.

“I’m sorry, Your Honor, but I cannot provide for them the way they need. I—I love these kids, but I cannot take custody of them. The past few weeks have shown me that.”

“Then you would like to sign them over as wards to the State?” the Judge asks, seemingly shocked himself.

“No,” she says calmly. “No—I—I would like to sign them back over to the agents, if they would be willing,” she continues, looking to you. Both you and Marcus are gaping at her, and the Judge looks to you before looking back at her.

“Ma’am, are you under any state of duress right now?”

“No,” she almost laughs, and your mind is barely taking in the words. “I am not under duress. I want what’s best for these kids, my sister’s kids. And that’s with them. They love Grace and Eli like they are their own, and they are much better at this than I am. This is what Kerry and Logan would have wanted for them.” A chatter falls over the room until the judge bangs his gavel, demanding order before dismissing Lisa from the stand. You watch her retreat with wide eyes, only compelled to look away when the judge calls for your attention.

“Would you both approach, please,” he asks calmly, and you look to Marcus for reassurance before standing up. You pass a glance at Lisa, and she looks almost sheepish before you turn away. Marcus leads you up to the podium, both of you at face level with the top to look up at the judge as he speaks in hushed tones.

“I understand you saved these children, and have both taken repeated and consistent interest on the children’s behalf.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” you both respond almost in unison. The man regards you again before speaking.

“Now, this is unconventional, but I can see through your testimony and interactions how you care for them. Would you be willing to take on Grace and Elijah as their foster parents? If you agree, I will order you both as custodial parents for one year, after which you would be given the option to permanently adopt Grace and Elijah.” You whip your head to Marcus, who is already looking dumbfounded. You can’t bring yourself to speak, overwhelmed by what’s happening, and Marcus looks to you before opening his mouth.

“Can we ask Eli?” The judge nods, calling his name in the direction of the boy, who looks confusedly from his book.

“Elijah, your Aunt Lisa is no longer able to care for you,” he sounds so cold, and you watch Eli’s face twist as he takes in the words; you want to rush over and snatch him up, comfort him, but you stop yourself. Before the judge can ask anything, Eli interrupts him.

“Can I go back to living with the police then?” You both chuckle, but it only eggs Eli on, and he approaches you both. “They aren’t my Mommy and Daddy, but they act like them sometimes. Especially when Marcus burns the pancakes,” he crinkles his face, and a soft chuckle falls over the room as he grabs your hand. “And sometimes they put me in Time Out, but that’s okay, because I was mean and I lied. I said I hate them, but I love them.” Your heart seems to clench in your throat, as Eli puts his other hand into Marcus’. “I want to live with them forever.” You make eye contact with Marcus before turning back to the judge, squeezing Eli’s hand lightly as Marcus speaks.

“Then yes, we will take them on as their custodial parents,” he replies firmly, sneaking a glance to you as you nod in agreement.

“Then it’s settled. Grace and Elijah Bennett will be released to the agents under the previous terms, starting today. Andrea will stay on as the case worker until one year has passed, and the arrangement will be reexamined for permanent adoption. Dismissed,” the judge says, banging the gavel again.

You hadn’t realized, but you’re crying, and Marcus grabs your shoulders to bring you to him, sniffling as well. Eli is trapped between your legs, watching as you sob tears of joy into each other until he can worm his way free.

“If you don’t want to be my Mommy and Daddy that’s okay,” he says, dejected. “You don’t have to cry about it.”

“No, Eli—we’re happy. We really, really want to be your Mommy and Daddy--we’re crying because we’re happy, so happy,” you explain, kneeling to his level to bring him into a hug. At that, Grace waddles over to your other side to join in, and just like Marcus’ lock screen, you’re framed by two little heads. But this time, instead of digital pictures, you’re real, you’re in front of him, and he falls to his knees too, wrapping his arms around the three of you like he had wanted to on that plane. When you break apart, Lisa is standing there, looking relieved.

“I’m sorry, Agents. I—I wanted to tell you. From the start. But everything with them was so crazy and I thought I could do it and I just can’t. I see how much you love them, this is what’s best for them,” she says almost wistfully.

“Please, Lisa. Please tell us you will visit, whenever you want, we want you in their lives,” you practically beg, and she seems to perk up.

“Of course. Now let’s get all this baby stuff out of my apartment,” she almost jokes, and you snort into Eli’s hair, grateful to have him at your side again. Grace is in Marcus’ arms, and she quickly reaches out to grab his hooked nose in her tiny fist.

“Dada?” she asks softly, and you both freeze, eyes wide. You stand slowly, like you might disrupt the moment if you move too fast.

“Dada!” she repeats again more eagerly, pushing her grimy hands into Marcus’ face. You look to Lisa, who looks equally as shocked.

“Has she—”

“She never—”

“That was her first word?” Marcus is the first one to get the complete thought out, the three adults nodding between themselves.

“Dada, dada, dada!” Grace chimes, as if she understood his question. You practically barrel into Marcus, grinning broadly as fresh tears start to fall. Even Lisa looks emotional, but nothing compares to Marcus’ face as he looks at the little girl. Adoration, reverence, disbelief, love all swirl behind his eyes, finally allowing his own tears to fall, which Grace quickly smears across his cheek. You give him a quick peck in their wake, but he turns to you fully, allowing a prolonged kiss to try to express the feelings in his chest, and somehow, you feel them too.

“Ew! Gross!” Eli exclaims, and Lisa chuckles, causing you to pull apart. You only stick your tongue out at Eli playfully, taking his hand to lead your newly formed family out of the courthouse.

It doesn’t take long for the avalanche of baby items to make its way back to Marcus’ townhouse; Lisa is ready to go back to her old life, and honestly, you can’t blame her. You’re ready to go back to yours, too; only yours has two adorable kids and Marcus at your side. Later in the week, you and Marcus help her pack up the kids’ stuff. You can’t help but notice the white couch looking a bit worse for wear, the shag carpet caked in green goo, the stray crayon marks on the wall—she’s been put through the ringer, but she still agrees to a family dinner twice a month, and one “Aunt Lisa Day,” aptly named by Eli for a day where she gets the kids to herself. She even offers babysitting “any time,” passing you a knowing glance when your cheeks begin to heat.

By the time you’ve said your goodbyes and get back to Marcus’, Eli practically barrels past you and dives into his old bedroom with a happy yell. You can’t help but to laugh at his antics, Marcus pulling you into his side for a one-armed hug and a kiss to your temple as his other arm holds Gracie. The grin across his face is electric, splitting so wide it makes your cheeks hurt to look at, until you realize your matching one is likely to blame.

You easily fall back into your routine with the kids back in your care, adding the additional loving touches and words you were too afraid to act on before. It’s all unbearably normal, serene, domestic; the life Marcus had dreamed of when he came to DC, though finally with the right person at his side. Eli insists on pancakes for every meal, Grace continues to shove every loose object she touches into her mouth, Marcus can’t keep his hands off of you any chance he gets, and you…you’re just happy.

Grace’s first birthday sneaks up on you, in the craziness of moving the kids back to your place and reestablishing schedules and preschool playdates, and you manage to throw together a small outdoor barbecue at the park. It’s the same place Marcus found you that day, when the Bennetts were found, but it couldn’t feel more different. The cherry blossoms have long-since fallen to give way to bright green leaves, Grace is able to haphazardly walk through the tall grass with the other kids, but most of all, the mood is joyous. It’s finally the cusp of summer, warm and sunny as you almost parade Grace around to the guests, showing off the dress and ruffled shorts combo you put together for the occasion and her wobbly legs when she tries to run with the other kids. Lisa watches from the sidelines, immediately welcomed by some of your friends from your new department as they discuss more adult, child-free topics over wine spritzers at the picnic tables. Eli and Emmie sprint through the sporadic tree trunks, Alex hot on their heels as he tries to keep up and Mike watching fondly from his place as sous-chef next to the grill, beer in hand as he chats with Marcus, who has focused so hard on not burning the hot dogs he barely notices you approach and Mike walk off from over the smoke.

You have Grace on your hip, just like that day you found them on the raid, and his attention is completely shifted when you peck him on the cheek, face reddening.

“Do you see that?” you murmur into his ear, and he finally turns to look past the grill. You’re both looking at Miller, approaching from the parking lot but still at a considerable distance, looking sure of himself.

“Oh, God. What…is that?” he asks, and you can’t help but release a hearty laugh. Miller’s driving a miniature motorized car in front of him with a big red bow on the hood, which you can’t help but think is meant for children much older than either of yours. Once he finally reaches you both, he eagerly greets Marcus and more sheepishly greets you, almost immediately focusing his attention completely on Grace, as he coos and fawns over her like a newborn. You can’t help but share a look to Marcus over her shoulder when Miller grabs her and puts her in the car, insisting it’s her present despite the fact that she’s probably 4 years too small for it. Marcus looks horrified, no doubt every safety concern crossing his mind at once over the ridiculous gift, but you watch as she gleefully honks the little horn and Marcus pulls you closer to his side. You lean onto Marcus’ shoulder to watch Miller teach Grace the controls, like she could even reach the pedals, before Marcus grumbles into the crown of your head.

“We’re returning that.”

“Of course, boss,” you chuckle, pulling away from embrace. “By the way, I think your hot dogs are burning.”

“Shit!” A little voice cuts through the smoke in response to his curse.

“Marcus! No bad words!”

One Year Later

A lot has changed in one year, and somehow, everything is the same. A new house, with one room painted baby pink and one painted light green, with one left white to spare; a big backyard full of multicolored playground fixtures and a well-used motorized car; a kitchen with fridge covered in drawings done by multiple “artists,” some more artful than others. A delicate ring on your finger, which you worried may be heavy and cumbersome but instead makes you feel the lightest you’ve ever felt; a well-organized binder of wedding ideas long abandoned and covered in marker scribbles. A set of sure feet attached to a meek almost-two-year-old, whose greatest comfort still lies in Marcus’ arms and her pesky pacifier you can’t get her to shake. A rambunctious four-year-old ready to start Pre-K, but only after he gets his pancakes in the morning and forces you to text Emmie (via Mike or Alex) to make sure one more time that they’re in the same class.

And finally there’s Marcus; sweet, silly, loveable Marcus. Your relationship has only gotten stronger in the past year, blowing past “moving too fast” to “moving just right,” if the ring on your finger is anything to go by. He’s a model dad to the kids, always patient, stern when he needs to be. One disappointed look or mention of “the right thing” gets Eli into a tailspin of apologies for whatever minor transgression he passed. He chases the kids endlessly, teaching and playing and just being with them; always a little protective, but so full of love you think he might burst.

You might burst, too, every time he steals a glance at you with that same broad grin, brighter than the sun; every time you fall into bed at night, every murmur of “I love you” into your skin. “Kid” has turned into “Baby,” “sweetheart,” or--you think this one is his favorite, which is good, because it’s yours too—“sunshine.” It’s unbelievably clear how happy he is, how happy you are, how much love is in your little found family. It’s hard to imagine that, a year ago, Marcus was hiding himself, mourning a loss of what could have been, when right in front of him was everything he ever wanted.

The next court date is quickly approaching, and though you have discussed it endlessly with each other, you figure you owe it to Grace and Eli to ask their opinions on staying with you. They still see Lisa twice a month, with an additional “Aunt Lisa Day” thrown in and some sporadic babysitting for date nights, but both kids have grown into such happy, healthy little people that it’s hard to imagine them anywhere else.

Marcus takes you all to the Smithsonian, at Eli’s request, after being told so many times that his drawings were fit for a museum. They litter every surface of the house, Marcus’ office, your desk; family portraits, Pollock-esque scribbles, dogs and cats and frogs, and Marcus wants to show him where his art can take him if he keeps at it; ever the doting father, insisting his child is meant for greatness.

You move through the artwork slowly, letting Eli ask questions about each piece, watching as his eyes light up at an abstract painting he insists looks like one he made last week (it does) and as he turns wearily from a portrait of a twisted face that was “too scary” (it was). Grace grasps Marcus tightly; almost too big to be held, you’re unsure if it’s Marcus who’s unwilling to let go or her, but you don’t say anything as you walk hand in hand through the exhibits. After dragging Eli away, you come to rest on a bench in the center of the room to give the kids a snack and a break before you continue.

In front of you is a smaller painting, covered in swaths of blues and greens. You stare at it a long time; it’s an ocean, you think; shadows of boats and people drifting among the waves, distant structures clouded in darker colors. In the middle is a prominent red sun, striking among the blues and reflecting off the waves. You had never been one for art, but this one seems to speak differently to you. A sunrise, you think; the start of a new beginning. When you look to Marcus, he’s finished handing out Cheerios and sippy cups, and instead is looking at you.

“You know what that one is?” You hum a negative response. “Impression, Sunrise.” You practically snort a chuckle, and he laughs too, looking to Grace and Eli between you who are happily babbling to each other.

“Hey, guys? We need to ask you something, okay?” Marcus asks, and both of them snap their attention to him. “Do you remember Miss Andrea and seeing the judge last year? It’s almost time for us to go back to talk to them, and they’re going to ask us if we want to adopt you permanently.”

“We can live with you forever?” Eli asks, crumbs of Cheerios falling from his mouth.

“If you want to, yeah, but it’s your decision,” you add, and he seems to think it over pensively before Grace speaks up.

“Mommy?” She says, pointing to you, then turns to Marcus. “Dada? Live with Mommy and Dada.” You share a smile with Marcus, the both of you somehow in tune with two-year-old nonsenses; her choice seemed to be made. Grace had been calling you and Marcus “Mommy” and “Dada” since she started talking; you were unsure how much she really understood of her past, but made sure she knew Kerry and Logan as Mommy and Daddy as well, showing her pictures and having Lisa share stories of her biological parents. Eli had stuck to calling you by first names, reserving “Mommy and Daddy” for his first parents, which you didn’t object to.

“If Grace wants to stay, then I want to stay, too,” Eli says quickly behind her.

“You know it’s forever, right Eli? It’ll be just like it is now, with Lisa coming to visit, but you’ll be--” you start, but he interrupts you.

“Can I ask you something?” He asks, turning innocent eyes between you both.

“Of course, buddy. You can ask us anything.”

“Can I start to call you Mom and Dad like Gracie? I miss Mommy and Daddy, but I know they’re not coming back anymore. I love you and you treat me like they did, I think. So I want to stay with you. As my Mom and Dad.” You and Marcus exchange an excited, emotionally charged look over their heads, that same split smile crossing his features when he looks back at the kids, now done with their snacks.

“Well, that’s settled then. You’re stuck with us. Forever,” he jokes, making a silly voice on the last word and grabbing Grace to tickle her sides. She shrieks in laughter, and Eli giggles too as you hold him close to your chest; other patrons of the museum are staring, but you couldn’t care less, content with your little family bubble.

“Can I ask you something else? Since you’re my Mom and Dad?” Eli asks once Grace has settled in Marcus’ lap.

“What’s up, bud?” Eli looks nervously to his side, then points at the painting there. It’s a portrait of the Madonna, with Jesus and Saint John as babies at her feet.

“Why are their pee pees out?!” He half-whispers, half-yells in disbelief, and you can’t help but burst into laughter at his interpretation of the classic piece, thinking he may be a little more like you than Marcus when it comes to art appreciation.

“This one’s all you, Dad,” you chuckle, and Marcus shakes his head at you, chuckling as well. You look back to Impression, Sunrise as Marcus stutters through an explanation, smiling to yourself. Marcus may sing You Are My Sunshine, but to you, in this new beginning, he’s the red sun at the center of it all.

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