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joelsgreys · 2 days

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a safe haven l ten

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter

summary: After a long night, Joel and Ellie take you home.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF AN INJURY SUSTAINED FROM AN ACT OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, PREGNANCY, CONVERSATIONS SURROUNDING PREGNANCY LOSS . PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. Ellie and reader are very close to each other, Joel deals with feelings of guilt, Joel and Maria make nice, Joel gives reader a bath and washes her hair, food consumption (i am just gonna apologize to my lactose intolerant folks right now, trust me i must pretend with you), both reader and Joel have some big feelings, reader mentions her deceased father, angst, soft and domestic Joel, fluff.

word count: 5k

a/n: i have not updated this series since october. :l i feel a a mixed bag of emotions updating after all this time, but most of all, i am grateful to know there are a couple of people out there who are still invested in this story. to anyone who has been waiting: truly, it means the world that you have shown me patience, support, and kindness. believe me, i am going to be seeing this story to the end, and it is all thanks to those who continue to show this lil story of mine a whole lotta love. special shoutout to the loveliest human @mrsmando who made me this beautiful mooodboard every single time i got stuck during this chapter, i looked at it and it gave me the boost of inspiration i needed. thank you mimi <33 this chapter is fairly tame, the next chapter is already in the works, and there are a couple of time jumps coming. overall, we are down to the last handful of chapters. let’s finish this story and give these two the ending they deserve, shall we?

“What the hell is taking Tommy so fucking long?” Ellie whines. She’s sprawled out on the couch with her head in your lap, and her arm draped over her eyes. Her feet are hanging, dangling over the edge of the couch at an odd angle after you’d warned her not to get muck from her sneakers on the linen fabric. Despite Joel insisting over and over that she head on back to the house, she had stubbornly refused, not wanting to leave your side. “It’s been over two hours! He’s taking fucking forever, man. What’s the fucking hold up?”

Joel bites back a sigh, masking his own impatience. Or at least, he tries. He’s grown just as restless as the kid, if not more. Much like Ellie, he’s desperate. He’s itching to take you home already, almost too anxious to watch you take that first step over his threshold, and into your new life with him and with Ellie. He aches, aches, to get you settled into the place where you would be spending the remainder of your days with one another, where you would be safe, and loved in the way you deserved to be loved—the place where he would cherish and adore you until his final breath.

“Don’t know,” he answers, his voice sounding rougher, more gruff than usual. Reaching up, he scrubs his hand down the side of his face, adding tiredly, “He might be a while longer, kiddo. It could be another hour, could be more. Like I already told you, s’probably best if you just go on and head back to the house without us, alright?”

“No. I’m not walking out that fucking door unless she’s with me.” She pauses and pulls her arm away from her face for a moment, just long enough to throw a teeny glare his way. “Unless you’re both with me. The three of us go home together, or it’s no fucking deal. Got it?”

He shakes his head in utter exasperation.

“Ellie, we’ll be right here down the fuckin’ road—”

Her hand shoots out and she flips him off.

Just when he’s about to chastise her, he stops himself, clamping his mouth shut. It’s pointless.

Kid’s too goddamn hard headed for her own good, and Joel knows he’s just wasting his breath with her.

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” you reassure them both, weaving your fingers through her hair to scratch at her scalp in an effort to soothe her. “Right, Joel?”

He meets your exhausted, worn down gaze from where he’s standing across the room, and his heart lurches in his chest. As the guilt begins creeping in, he’s forced to look away. He can’t imagine the living hell you had been through over the last twenty four hours alone. And the worst part about it was the realization that last night, while he was fast asleep in bed just a couple of houses up the road, that fucking bastard had his belt wrapped around your throat.

Joel feels sick to his fucking stomach all over again.

Horrifying, vividly real images of you helplessly trapped underneath Luke scratching and clawing at the leather around your neck with trembling fingers, struggling to breathe oxygen into your burning lungs as he tugged it tighter and tighter through the buckle flash in his mind, a gruesome nightmare turned into reality.

Exactly how far had Luke taken it?

Until you had grown too weak to keep fighting?

Until you almost lost complete consciousness?

Until he noticed the life threatening to leave your eyes?

Is that when he had finally stopped pulling on the belt?

Joel shudders, a bitter taste climbing up his throat as it sinks in. He could have lost you—and his unborn child.

This shouldn’t have happened.

He shouldn’t have let you walk away that night.

This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t let you walk away from him that night.

“Joel,” you say his name, quiet and weary.

His head snaps back in your direction and he glances at you, almost missing the subtle shake of your head. It is a silent warning telling him not to go there, though you know by the tight clench of his jaw it’s too late for that.

Joel makes the futile attempt to hide it, but he sees it written all over your face—you know what he’s thinking because you know him like the back of your own hand, and you just know he’s placing all of the blame for what happened to you on his own shoulders.

But can you honestly fault him for that?

How can you expect him not to feel like he is somehow responsible for this? Just how the hell is he supposed to make himself believe he hadn’t failed you?

Joel promised—he had fucking promised you—that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. He had sworn to keep you safe, made a vow to protect you from Luke, but here you are, your soft, delicate flesh marred with the painful evidence of yet another one of his failures.

And it was all because he had let you walk away on that fucking night.

He should have done something.

Even if it meant running the risk of you never speaking to him again—even if you never forgave him, spent the rest of your life angry and hating him for going against your wishes. He should have something.

“Joel—”

“Be right back,” he mutters, lightly shaking his head.

Shoving away from the doorframe he’s leaning against, Joel pivots on the heel of his boot and starts down the hallway. He walks into the kitchen where he finds Maria standing at the counter, tapping her fingers against the smooth, laminated oakwood as she waits for the coffee she’d offered him a few minutes ago to finish brewing. She’d offered to whip up a quick supper, but food was the last thing on everyone’s mind.

“Tommy’s been gone for a couple hours now. Girls are startin’ to get real tired of just sittin’ around waitin’ for him to come back,” he tells her, exhaling the sigh he’d held back in the living room. “What do you think could be keepin’ him so long?”

With her back still to him, Maria reminds him, “Well, he did mention he was going to round up the council and get them together for an emergency meeting.” She lets out a sigh that matches his own—it’s been a long night for her, too. When the last drop of dark roast drips into the glass pot, she carefully takes the pot by the plastic handle and pours the steaming coffee into a speckled, white and blue ceramic mug. “Do you take it with milk and sugar?”

“No thanks, that’s alright,” he declines as politely as he can.

“I also have cinnamon if you’d like?”

“Plain black’s just fine.” He gives her a nod of gratitude when she hands it to him. “Thank you. And I don’t just mean the coffee, but for, uh—for bandagin’ up my hand for me, too.” He clocks the brief look of surprise on her face and almost laughs. He doesn’t blame her for being taken aback, because truth be told, so is he. Since he’d met Maria, he had known she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. There was something of a mutual understanding between them, a silent agreement they had made to keep each other at arm’s length, to only interact when it was absolutely necessary.

Never did he think he would be standing in her kitchen, thanking her for patching up his hand, and for making him a cup of coffee out of the kindness of her heart.

His brother wouldn’t believe it.

“Don’t mention it.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she leans back against the counter. “How’s it feel, by the way?”

“S’fine,” he replies, shrugging. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.”

There’s a momentary silence. A taste of tension lingers over their heads, and he knows at one point or another, he’s going to have to address the affair, the very reason everything had unfolded in such a terrible manner.

Guess now’s as good a time as fuckin’ any, he thinks to himself with an inward sigh.

Joel lightly clears his throat. “Listen, since we’ve got a minute alone, just the two of us, I was wonderin’ if, uh—if we could talk ‘bout somethin’? If that’s alright?”

“Of course.” Maria gives him the floor.

“I know that she—” Pausing, he shuffles from the heel of one boot to the other, his ears burning hot. He had known it wouldn’t be an easy conversation to have, but he underestimated just how uncomfortable it would be, regardless of what she already knew. “I know she told you and Tommy all ‘bout us, and ‘bout our relationship. See, the thing is, the first time I saw her—”

Again, Joel stops, the burning sensation now radiating, spreading from his ears to his face and down his neck, flushing his skin a deep, deep shade of pink. Unable to meet his sister in law’s gaze, he glances down into his mug, as if he will somehow find the right words to say somewhere in the depths of his coffee.

“It was never my intention, y’know,” he finally says after a minute. “Goin’ after a married woman. I swear, I never meant to fall for her. I just fuckin’ did. I think I might’ve fallen for her long before I even met her,” he confesses. He feels himself darken to a shade of maroon under her curious stare. “And somehow, for reasons I ain’t all too sure I’ll ever understand, she fell for me too.”

Maria raises an eyebrow at him. “Look, I’m not judging you, Joel,” she assures him, shaking her head. “If that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not judging her, either.”

He looks up at her, blurting out, “You’re not?”

She moves her hands to cradle her swollen middle. “Do I wish you two had handled everything differently?” she answers her own query with a nod of her head. “Oh, I’m sure we all do. But I’ve known her for a long time now. I know the kind of woman she is. And I’m starting to see the kind of man you are.”

“And what kinda man is that, Maria?”

He waits without the slightest clue as to what she could possibly say.

“Since you came back to Jackson, I’ve chosen to keep my distance from you—but make no mistake, I’ve been watching you like a hawk since day one. Waiting for any signs of trouble. Waiting for you to fuck up. Waiting for you to give me a good reason to throw your ass out of this community because I didn’t trust you. Not after all the things I was told about you.”

He snorts. “You goin’ somewhere with this?”

“You are not who I thought you were,” Maria admits, smiling wryly. “I’ve gotten to see a different side of you. You pull your weight around here by doing your job and doing it well. You stay out of trouble—for the most part. And more importantly, I have seen the way that you’ve stepped up to be a father figure to Ellie. It takes a good man to do that, Joel.”

“Think that’s the nicest fuckin’ thing you’ve ever said to me,” he muses, setting his mug down on the counter. “I stepped up because I love her. I love them both. Those two, they’re the best parts of me. They’re the reasons I keep goin’ and now I’ve got another reason on the way.”

Maria smiles, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.

Catching her hesitance, Joel asks, “What? What is it?”

“What comes next is not going to be easy,” she warns him, lowering her voice. Even with the living room a fair distance from the kitchen, she doesn’t want to run the risk of you overhearing her. “For as hard as we’re going to try to contain the fire, it will spread, and everyone in this town will find out about everything—including the affair. People are going to talk, and believe me, they’re going to have a whole lot to say about it, Joel.”

He can’t help but roll his eyes at her.

“Think I can handle some fuckin’ gossip, Maria.”

“I know you can. But I’m not sure if she can,” Maria tells him, quietly. “It worries me. She’s been through a lot in just one night alone. I don’t want her stressing anymore than she already has. She is in a very delicate stage of her pregnancy right now, Joel. If she’s not careful, she could have a miscarriage. She had one about two years ago when her father became sick—” Observing his lack of a reaction, she realizes, “You knew that already.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. He knows where she’s going with this. “I did. She told me ‘bout it.”

“It makes her chances of having another one higher—”

Joel doesn’t even allow himself to think of it happening to you again. “I get it,” he interjects, trying not to sound too curt. “I’ll make sure she takes it real easy, alright?”

Lifting a hand off her belly, she reaches out and takes a hold of his forearm, gripping it tightly.

“Promise me something, Joel. Promise me that you’ll look after her,” Maria pleads him, gently. “Please. After everything she’s been through—I need you to promise me that she’s going to be in good hands with you.”

He nods. Without thinking, he places his hand over hers in an unexpected token of affection and reassurance. “You have my word, Maria. I’ll take good care of her.”

She gives his arm a grateful squeeze, then glances over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting pretty late. We don’t know how much longer Tommy’s going to be with the council. Why don’t we just go ahead and call it a night?” she suggests. “We can all get together first thing in the morning at your place to talk about it.”

“Yeah, good idea,” he agrees. “She really needs to rest.”

Maria gives his arm another squeeze.

“Go on then, Joel. Take your girls home.”

“Finally!” Ellie exclaims with a dramatic flail of her arms as she shoves through the front door.

“Alright, kiddo. Get your behind upstairs and into the shower,” Joel instructs her, flipping on the lights in the foyer. “Y’smell like fuckin’ horse shit.”

She lifts the collar of her shirt to her nose, takes a whiff, and makes a face. “Yeah, I won’t argue with you there,” she mutters. She toes off her dirty sneakers and leaves them beside the door before dashing up the staircase, taking two steps at a time.

He shouts after her, “And don’t use up all the hot—”

“Yeah, yeah, I fucking know the rules, dude!”

Moments later, you both hear the shower going.

“Little shit,” he grumbles.

You exhale an amused huff through your nose.

Joel withdraws his arm from around your shoulders and reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “C’mon, darlin’.” He guides you up the stairs and down the hallway into his bedroom where he switches on the light before proceeding to lead you over to his dresser. “I’ve got a bunch of shirts in this top drawer here,” he says. Dropping your hand, he pulls it open for you and gestures to it with a jut of his chin as he takes a step backwards, moving out of the way. “Go ahead and pick one to sleep in tonight. Want you to be comfortable, so help yourself to whichever one you want, sweet girl.”

Nodding, you begin to rummage through the drawer, unaware of the moment he slips away. You reach for a t-shirt, but then a plaid green flannel catches your eye. You pluck it from the drawer, running your fingers over the soft, warm fabric. “Is it alright if I wear—?” You turn around, stopping mid sentence when you realize he’s no longer standing behind you. Puzzled, you follow the sound of running water into the bathroom where you find him kneeling beside the tub. “Joel? What are you doing?”

“Runnin’ you a bath.”

You notice the bloodied bandage beside him on the tile floor. “Joel, are you serious?” you scold him. “Maria just patched your hand up for you.”

“S’okay, peach. I can rewrap it when we’re done.” Joel sticks his injured hand under the faucet to check the temperature, the cold water soothing his cuts. Once it turns warm, then hot, he pulls out his hand, waiting for the tub to fill halfway before shutting the faucet off and rising to his feet. “C’mere, sweetheart.” He rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to his forearms, then beckons for you with both of his hands. “Let’s get you washed up.”

You remain standing by the door. “Joel, you don’t have to do this for me.”

“I know.”

“I’m capable of washing myself—”

“Yeah, I know that too,” he says, chuckling. “S’only fair, darlin’. Don’t you think?”

That’s when it hits you—how this moment is mirroring that night you had cleaned Joel up after you and Ellie had brought him home from the clinic with an injured shoulder. He allowed you to take care of him, and now, he was looking to do the same for you. And all you had to do was let him.

“But your hand—”

“Will be just fine,” Joel persists, stubbornly. “It’s nothin’ but a few cuts and scrapes. C’mon—or else I’m gonna march right over there and get you myself, peach.”

Knowing Joel, you certainly wouldn’t put it past him to throw you over his should and carry you to the bathtub.

“Fine,” you relent with a small sigh of defeat.

Setting his shirt down on the sink, you slowly walk over towards him and whirl around, letting him help you out of your knitted cardigan. You finish undressing yourself, inhaling a deep breath as you muster up the courage to turn back around and face him—when you finally do, it feels like a punch to the gut to see the heartbreak in his dark brown eyes, the subtle tremble of his bottom lip. You don’t have to look at yourself in the mirror to know it looks about a hundred times worse when you’re not wearing clothes.

Keeping your arms down at your sides, you fight every urge to cover yourself up. You’ve never felt so fucking vulnerable.

Clearing his throat, Joel holds out his hand. “C’mere.”

You accept it, and he helps you into the tub.

“How’s the water? S’not too hot, is it?”

You shake your head and he leans forward, kissing your temple so sweetly, your eyes flutter closed.

He washes your hair first, then takes a clean washcloth, lathering it up with a bar of milk and honey soap—the same soap he would smell on your skin all those nights. Admittedly, Joel preferred castile soap, but switched it when he found himself missing you during those weeks you were apart from him, when he needed the comfort of your scent. He is gentle with you, so gentle, as if he’s afraid you’ll shatter into pieces in his hands.

As he lightly drags the washcloth up your back and around your neck, you stiffen, prompting him to freeze too. “Fuck. Baby, did I hurt you?” he asks, and you hear the slight panic in his tone.

“No,” you say quickly, desperately trying to swallow the lump rising in your throat. “No, you didn’t hurt me. It’s just—” Every overwhelming emotion slams into you all at once, and you can’t seem to figure out which one to feel first. Humiliation? Fear? Relief?

The water sloshes around you as you pull your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around your knees, giving yourself permission to feel them all. Bowing your head, you begin to sob quietly, hoping that Ellie, who is just down the hallway, won’t hear you crying again.

Joel says nothing. Washcloth still clutched in his hand, he leans forward over the edge of the tub and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, or at least, as close as the barrier between the two of you will allow him.

“Joel,” you choke, trying to push him off. “Stop it. Your clothes, they’re getting all wet.”

“Hush. Don’t fuckin’ care ‘bout my clothes,” he croaks, and for a second, you swear he’s about to cry too. But he doesn’t. He holds himself strong. Tugging you closer against his chest, he buries his nose into your soaking wet hair, whispering his reassurance. “You’re okay, baby. You’re safe, my sweet girl. I’ve got you, alright?”

He pulls back slightly, dipping his hand into the water, placing it on your lower belly.

You look down, your eyes glazing over his bruised and battered knuckles. Proof that Joel Miller really would do anything for you.

“I know you do,” you say, softly. “I know you’ve got me, Joel.”

A while later, you’re dried, dressed, and composed. You follow Joel out of the bathroom and back into his room, where he has you take a seat on the bed. Noticing you had missed a button on his flannel shirt, he does it for you. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and says, “Give me a minute while I change.”

He peels off his wet clothes, being careful so as not to further agitate his sore, injured hand. After changing into a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, faded black t-shirt, he turns around only to find you’re sitting in bed underneath the covers.

“Sorry,” you apologize with a nervous chuckle as you rest your back against the headboard. “It just looked so warm and cozy—and it smells like you. I couldn’t resist making myself comfortable.”

Joel pads over to the side of the bed. He leans over, planting one hand on either side of you as he dips his head and brushes his lips against yours. “Ain’t got no reason to apologize, baby,” he assures you in a gentle murmur. “This is your bed now too, peach. This is your room. This is your home. Alright?”

Home.

You’re home.

He touches the tip of his nose to yours, and then draws himself back up to full height. “There’s somethin’ that I’ve gotta take care of downstairs, peach. I won’t be too long,” he promises.

It’s almost midnight. Joel goes about the kitchen and he prepares you the quickest meal that he can think of. He plates the sandwich he’d thrown together and pours a glass of cow’s milk—he’s always sure to keep a pint of it in the refrigerator to make the kid her oatmeal in the mornings.

He heads back upstairs, only to find that while he had been gone, Ellie had joined you, making herself a little too comfortable on his side of the bed. He stands there at the door, watching the two of you.

“Hey, so is it true babies can hear stuff while they’re in there?” Ellie questions you, curiously.

“Mhm,” you reply with a nod. “They can hear music, for example. Voices—”

“Voices?” She smushes her face into your stomach and he hears a muffled, “Hey, dude!”

You giggle. “Ellie, I think it’s still a little too early.”

“When do you think it’ll be able to hear me?”

“I’m not too sure. In a few months, maybe?”

Ellie lifts her head, humming. “You know, I bet there’s baby books in the library,” she tells you as she sits up. “I’ll have Dina help me look for one tommor—oh shit.” She stares at you with wide eyes. “Dina! How are you going to tell her and Talia about Luke?”

Joel grimaces. He hadn’t thought of that, either.

“I—I’m not too sure.”

“You have to fucking tell them. Dina has to know about him. She has to know what a piece of shit he is, and so does Talia.”

Sensing your discomfort, Joel steps into the bedroom and intervenes before she can say another word. “Ellie, get to bed. S’late.”

“But—”

“Don’t make me tell you again,” he warns her, sternly.

She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Fine.” She climbs off the bed and on her way out, she eyes the plate in his hand. “That chicken?”

“Turkey. And it ain’t for you, it’s for her. So scram, kid.”

“Couldn’t have made me one while you were at it, old man?”

“Ellie, if you don’t get outta here right now—”

“Alright!” Ellie holds her hands up. “I’m leaving. Jesus.”

She disappears, closing the door behind her.

“Pain in my ass,” Joel mumbles, shaking his head as he walks over and carefully perches himself beside you. He hands you the plate. “Here, darlin’.”

“Joel, I appreciate this, but I’m really not very hungry.”

“Maybe not, but y’gotta eat,” he insists. “Baby needs it.”

Thankfully, you accept it without further protest.

“I’ll have Ellie get your things tomorrow,” Joel states as you’re eating. “Maria can go along with her since she knows the house. They’ll get your clothes and whatever else you might need outta there.”

“My father’s belongings.” You accidentally talk through a mouthful of turkey and bread. Swallowing, you tell him, “I have some boxes of his stuff in the basement. But they’re way too heavy for either of them to carry.”

“I’ll take care of that for you.” He reaches up, wiping a breadcrumb from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “I can ask Tommy to give me a hand. Don’t you worry, peach. We won’t leave your dad’s things behind, I swear it.”

Relieved, you shoot him a grateful look, then polish off the last few bites of your sandwich.

“Here,” he says, offering you the glass of milk. “Figured it’s good for you, and good for the baby. Y’know, since it’s got calcium and…stuff.” He shrugs sheepishly, no clue as to what he’s talking about. “Vitamins, right?”

Nodding, you grab the glass and take a reluctant sip.

“You hate milk,” Joel realizes, raising an eyebrow.

“I do,” you admit with a laugh. “But you’re right. It’s good for both me and the baby, so cheers.” And with that, you somehow force the entire glass down.

He sets the dishes aside on the nightstand, figuring he can take them downstairs first thing in the morning.

Without bothering to rebandage his hand like he’d told you he would, Joel turns off the lights and climbs into bed with you. “All those nights wishin’ I could bring you home,” he muses as you curl into his side. “Wantin’ nothin’ more than to hold you in my arms in this bed. In our bed.” His arm slips around your shoulders, a laugh rumbling through his chest. “Almost doesn’t feel real, darlin’.”

Tilting your head, you nuzzle your nose into the scruff of his beard, prompting him to laugh again. Then, he remembers his conversation with Maria, and his smile fades from his face, his lips pursing together.

You catch the sudden shift in his demeanor.

“Joel? What’s the matter?”

“M’fine, baby. It’s just—” He hesitates. “From this point forward, I need you to let me handle things.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you gettin’ all stressed out, alright? I don’t want to run the risk of you—” He’s unsure of how to say it.

“Of me losing the baby,” you finish for him, quietly.

Joel winces, knowing he was wandering into sensitive territory. “Yeah. I—I really don’t want that to happen.” He pauses. “Maria mentioned to me you’re in a delicate stage. When do you reckon you’ll stop—how long until you don’t gotta worry ‘bout it?”

“After twelve weeks, my risk isn’t as high. If I make it to the second trimester in six weeks, then my chances of having another miscarriage are lower.”

Though you speak calmly, he clocks your anxiousness.

You’re worried, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fucking worried out of his mind too.

Being a father at his age wasn’t ideal, but he wanted this child. It was part of him, and more importantly, it was a part of you.

Joel squeezes your shoulders. “I only ask ‘cause I was thinkin’ that, y’know, once we get to that point, maybe I can go ahead and start buildin’ the baby’s crib.”

“You’re going to build the crib?”

He nods. “And the highchair too. I can even make you a diaper changin’ table if y’want one.”

“Joel.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Our worlds were just turned completely upside down. You just found out that I’m pregnant, and you’re already thinking about building furniture? Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves?”

“Hey, those things take a whole ‘lotta time,” he says in defense of himself. “Besides, winter’s right around the corner and I don’t wanna be out in the garage freezin’ my fuckin’ ass off. If I can get a head start now, I can have them all done in the spring by the time the baby comes.”

You fall silent.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I’m really scared of losing it,” you confess. “When I first took that pregnancy test, I wanted nothing more for it to be negative. Now, I’m terrified I won’t make it past my first trimester again. I really don’t want to lose it. I want this baby, Joel.”

He turns his head, meeting your eyes in the silver light shining through the lace curtains over his window. “S’why you’ve gotta let me handle things, darlin’. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“C’mere, my sweet girl.” Joel presses his lips to yours, murmuring against them, “I love you.”

His declaration comes with natural ease.

And so does yours.

“I love you too, Joel.”

#fic: a safe haven #fic: ash #tw dv #tw domestic violence #tw pregnancy #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #the last of us fanfiction

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vettelchild somebody please check on sebs, i think the man is dead right about now

leclerccough just saw sebastian vettel himself in the likes, she posted it like 2 min ago???

patitowifey father is a hardcore fan just like us fr carlandomind I didn't even know he had Instagram??? pastryf2piastri pretty sure is a fanpage, there is nothing published yet

yournamecuunt Rumors of her divorce emerged in 2020 and she disappeared from the map and now appears with an album out of nowhere

andthesixburner queen behaviour???

liked by vertappwifey,rosinglovers, vettelbabs and 8.585 others

lovingwags New wag in the paddock?

seen at the Australian GP with some friends and members of the band that makes up her shows and team, yn ln was present at the Australian GP, we cannot confirm which garage she was in, but I think we all have a certain hope of one in specific ( Sebastian please makes us proud

view all 475 comments

strollmothering That one blueyfever on twitter beign right all along

blueyfever OF COURSE I FCKING WAS formulaonfacts CAN'T FREAKING BELIEVE IT

ynthinker SCREAMING, CRYING AND THROWING UUUP

minivettel5 This woman is a freaking goddess

vettelhamm Sebastian must be just killing himself right about now

33tororoso Do we, Sebastian Vettel's children, finally have a mother?

maziemillian Isn't he like . . . married? blueyfever yeah! to her!!!! formulaonfacts okay grandma let's get you back to bed

whatamaxemmil I can't wait for blueyfever to be right

liked by sebastianvettel, charles_leclerc, lovingwags and 6.569.019 others

yourusername for years and years the words you didn't let me write suffocated me, the art you never let me see blinded me, the places you left me humiliated me, but finally my Graceland gained a different meaning and I'm no longer stuck in the bathroom with the same headache, everything you wanted from me didn't belong to you and I finally found someone who would give me the pen and not cut out my tongue, all my love, my affection, my future and my choices belong to him.

Because of him I have Dance Fever every night.

DANCE FEVER is yours to listen now.

view all 48.371 comments

yournameupdate OMG IS THAT????

ynlnthinker THAT IS SEBASTIAN VETTEL HIMSELF

vettelmemes OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG

vettelchild WHAT DOES THIS MEAAAAAAN

formulaonfacts BLUEY WAS RIGHT WT???

lecfosi BLUEY THE OLDER WISER SIBLING charles_leclerc no? that would be me maxverstappen1 you are neither charles_leclerc I am her favorite lance_stroll keep dreaming

yournamecuunt the grid competing more for her mother's love than for the world championship

georgerussell63 You haven't seen them in person.

sebastianvettel posted a new video.

liked by sebastianvettel, charles_leclerc, lovingwags and 6.569.019 others

yourusername It's been three years and a pandemic of an intense creative process, four years of silently recording every movement of my life until dance fever came to me and was finally delivered to you, four years surrounded by incredible people, and as a thank you for me Wait patiently over the last four years, I'll be sharing a little of what I've been going through.

the Dance Fever bts is now on YouTube, I'm sorry for the length, it's been four years of recording.

view all 48.371 comments

charles_leclerc it's 2 in the mornig

yourusername and why aren't you sleeping, pretty sure already put you in bed?

maxverstappen1 I just stopped my sim race to watch something I basically live? yeah

vettelchild my god the amount of content from yn and sebastian, now I have diabetes and i'm still at 2019, they weren't even dating

lecsainzfosi wait . . . WHAT?

lance_stroll I will assume you got to 2020 and 2021 charles_leclerc often sleep on the sofa in their house during these landonorris you and practically everyone on the grid, even Lewlew charles_leclerc yeah but i am her favorite lance_stroll still on this?

yournamecuunt Now that you are intertwined in the world of F1, do you think Lance should just leave?

yourusername Hell no, that is my child, giving my life for him to be happy, never did anything wrong, will never do , everyone who complains about him just wants to make noise and distractions and isn't worrying about the race tsunodaaaa on my way to make a fanpage for this mother and son duo

The soft tendrils of dawn's first light seeped through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow upon the tranquil morning. Sebastian, now retired from the racing circuit, still grappled with the novelty of no longer being tethered to the demanding schedules of tracks worldwide. Yet, awakening beside his wife, cocooned in the serenity of their home, provided a deeply soothing sense of contentment.

As Sebastian nestled closer to his beloved, he could feel her gentle warmth radiating beside him. She slept peacefully, her worries and the frenetic pace of everyday life momentarily suspended. Ever since Bee came into their lives, their nights had become a balancing act between tending to their child's needs and stealing moments of rest. But on this particular night, they had slept deeply, as though replenishing themselves from an extended bout of weariness.

Her locks cascaded like silken waves over the pillow, delicately shrouding her serene countenance. The soft curves of her features bespoke the tranquility she had discovered in that fleeting moment of repose. A fond smile tugged at Sebastian's lips as he recalled the countless nights spent awake with her, cradling her in his arms as she delved into the depths of her creative musings. The restorative embrace of a full night's sleep had invigorated Sebastian. He savored a newfound sense of peace and autonomy, a luxury he hadn't known since bidding farewell to the adrenaline-fueled world of racing. Now, he could devote more of himself to his growing family, witnessing Bee's milestones and relishing in the simple joys of marital companionship.

As the world beyond their bedroom gradually stirred to life, the couple remained ensconced in their private sanctuary. Yet, the tranquil ambiance was momentarily shattered by the soft whimper of Bee, captured by the electronic monitor stationed nearby. With a reluctant sigh, Sebastian's wife stirred beside him, bidding farewell to the depths of slumber.

"Sebastian, your daughter wake up . . .", she groaned, as Bee's gentle cry pierced the stillness of the morning, the woman instinctively buried her face into her husband's chest, seeking refuge from the beckoning call of their daughter. Her soft sobs muffled against the warmth of his embrace, a silent plea for a few more moments of respite.

Sebastian couldn't help but chuckle softly at his wife's playful attempt to evade the inevitable. With a tender affection, he ran his fingers through her hair, soothing her frazzled nerves with each gentle stroke. Her muffled laughter reverberated against his chest, a testament to the enduring bond they shared, even amidst the chaos of parenthood. As Bee's cries persisted, Sebastian's wife reluctantly peeled herself away from the sanctuary of his embrace, a resigned smile tugging at the corners of her lips. With a loving glance exchanged between them, they silently acknowledged the shared journey of parenthood, filled with its moments of exhaustion and boundless love. With a whispered promise to return, Sebastian's wife slipped out of bed, ready to embrace the day and tend to their beloved daughter.

As the soft hues of morning bathed the room, casting a gentle glow upon their cozy sanctuary, the woman returned, cradling their precious Bee in her arms. Each step she took seemed to echo with the tender rhythm of maternal love, her eyes alight with a serene radiance that mirrored the dawn's gentle embrace.

Sebastian's heart swelled with affection as he watched his wife approach, the ethereal beauty of motherhood emanating from her every movement. With each delicate sway, Bee stirred slightly in her mother's arms, her angelic face still adorned with the remnants of sleep. As his wife drew nearer, Sebastian's eyes sparkled with an unwavering adoration, a silent testament to the profound love he held for both his wife and their darling daughter. In that fleeting moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the tender bond that bound their family together.

Bee, with her tiny hands outstretched, reached eagerly for her father, her sleepy gaze melting hearts with its innocence. Sebastian's heart skipped a beat as he eagerly scooped her up, enveloping her in a warm embrace that radiated with paternal love. With a contented sigh, his lover gently lowered Bee onto the bed, where the little one wobbled unsteadily before finding her footing. With a gleeful giggle, Bee propelled herself into her father's waiting arms, her laughter filling the room with its infectious melody. Sebastian's heart swelled with pride as he cradled their daughter close, showering her with affectionate kisses that elicited a chorus of delighted squeals. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of their love, Sebastian's wife couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the family they had created together.

As she reclined on the bed, a gentle hand instinctively drifted to her burgeoning belly, where new life stirred with the promise of tomorrow. With each fluttering kick, her heart overflowed with anticipation, a silent prayer whispered for the blessings that lay ahead.

In the tranquil embrace of their shared love, Sebastian's wife felt as though she had finally found her own personal Graceland—a haven of warmth, purity, and boundless affection. And as the laughter of her husband and daughter echoed through the room, she knew that their home would forever be filled with the sweet symphony of love's enduring melody.

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, lovingwags and 569.019 others

sebastianvettel My Dearest,

As I sit down to write these words, I find myself immersed in thoughts of you, my heart overflowing with emotions that words alone cannot fully capture. Each day spent by your side feels like ascending to a throne, where you reign as my sovereign, my King. Your presence in my life has granted me a sense of liberation, a feeling of being truly Free from the constraints of the past.

Our journey together has been a whirlwind of joy and passion, a dance of souls caught in the frenzy of love. In your arms, I've discovered a rhythm unlike any other, a Choreomania that consumes us, leaving us breathless yet exhilarated. Whenever I find myself away from you, it's as if I've returned to familiar grounds, back in the embrace of a familiar town. You are my anchor, my sanctuary, my safe haven — a feeling encapsulated in the phrase Back In Town.

Together, we stand united against the odds, defying conventions and societal norms. We are rebels, fighters, Girls Against God in a world that seeks to confine us. In the depths of night, you are my beautiful paradox, my Dream Girl Evil. Your essence is both enchanting and mysterious, a captivating blend that keeps me endlessly intrigued.

Within the walls of our home, our love becomes a sanctuary, a Prayer Factory where we offer our hearts and souls in devotion to each other. It is here, in the sacred space we've created, that I find solace and strength. You possess a wisdom and insight that transcends time, a gift akin to that of the mythical Cassandra. Your intuition guides me, leading me towards a future filled with hope and promise.

In your arms, I've found my heaven, my nirvana — for Heaven is Here, whenever I'm with you. Your presence alone is enough to transform the ordinary into something extraordinary, turning mundane moments into memories I'll cherish forever. Your smile, like a radiant daffodil in a field of blooms, brings light and warmth to even the darkest of days. With you, each moment becomes a celebration of life, a testament to the beauty of love.

My love for you knows no bounds, transcending the limits of time and space. You are my guiding star illuminating the path before me with your boundless affection. Even in moments of separation, I exercise restraint, longing to hold you close yet savoring the anticipation of our reunion. Distance may test us, but it only serves to deepen my love for you, fortifying the bond we share.

Together, we are a force to be reckoned with, a Bomb waiting to explode with passion and desire. In your arms, I find solace, security, and an overwhelming sense of belonging. You are my muse, my inspiration, my Mermaid of the depths. Your allure is irresistible, drawing me in with your ethereal beauty and grace.

My dearest, these words pale in comparison to the depth of my affection for you. You are the beating heart of my existence, the light that guides me through the darkness.

With all my love,

Sebastian

tagged: yourusername

view all 48.371 comments

charles_leclerc alright gonna wrap it up, never gonna be this kind of romantic

carlossainz55 not even shakespere thought about writing something like that, mate

maxverstappen1 When will it be my turn?

kellypiquet what? maxverstappen1 when will it be my turn to be this romantic

lance_stroll MAMA AND PAPA

fernandoalo_oficial beautiful letter, really big, not gonna read but it's wonderful

jensonbutton I've never seen anyone who had so much to say, my god lewishamilton stole all the romance of the century landonorris That's why we live in the century of whoredom

yournamecuunt DID HE JUST MAKE A LETTER WITH ALL HER SONGS IN ORDER?

aussiegrit he's crazy romantic sentimental like that

motheryourname why hasn't yourusername commented yet?

lance_stroll She's here crying like hell at Sebs' farewell party alex_albon She's been really emotional today, with the party and everything. landonorris It's the hormones of this new pregnancy ynthinker THE WHAT sebastianvettel Lando??? yourusername FOR FUCKS SAKE landonorris sorry, sorry SORRY MOTHER

272 notes · View notes

enwoso · 17 hours

Text

PUPPY LOVE — alessia russo

*i don’t want anyone to think i haven’t forgotten about anyone’s request, i’ve started/planned all those that have been sent in and i’m slowly getting through them, and some should be posted by the end of the week! but thank you for the support on my last fics. i love and appreciate you all<33*

navigation

you loved your birthday.

some people you knew hated the thought of being born in january, as they saw it as a depressing and cold month. the fact it was right after christmas and all the festivities had died down. but you, you loved it.

after christmas and new year it gave you something to be excited for. having your birthday in the first week of january wasn't all too bad, christmas lights still lingered in the streets as well as small hints of christmas left behind. it all brought a huge smile to your face.

the sun peering though the crack in the curtains as alessia laid draped over you, her arm stretched across your body as her face was hidden in your neck. not wanting to disturb the blonde, you lay looking at the ceiling as your fingers rubbed through her hair.

not long after the blonde began to stir, moving a little as her face became a little more clear as a smile appeared on your face. brushing the loose blonde hairs that had escaped her low bun she had slept in, out of her face.

her head moving a little so you could not see her and the small smile that was on her lips, "happy birthday, tesoro" she mumbled her eyes still shut as she placed a gentle and sleep kiss on you neck. "i love you"

"thank you, lessi. i love you too" you turned to move the blonde so that you were both now facing each other instead of her lying on top of you, a few grumbles coming from the blonde as you moved her that she was already comfy.

looking at her, her eyes just beginning to open slightly as she rubbed them as they adjusted to the light that was beaming into the room. grinning as she pulled you closer back into her embrace, the tips of your noses touching.

a few moments of silence happen, before you close the gap. attaching your lips to the blondes. it was slow and soft the kiss, full of love. her hands found your waist, her fingertips warm as they drew tiny little circle on your hips. pulling away, not before pecking your lips a few more times making you giggle as she smiled.

"hope your ready for today to be all about you?" she whispered as your eyebrows raised, she had been telling you that she had been planning your birthday for weeks but unfortunately for you, you hadn't been able to drag out of her what she had planned.

usually you could push a few buttons and the blonde would crack, telling you her plans but this time she had been determined to keep it a secret making you even more curious about what she had planned.

"mhm and what does that entail?" you asked, as the blonde just smiled not saying a word instead kissing your cheek and pulling the covers off her. grabbing her phone from the bedside table leaving the bed cold as she reached the doorway.

"you just have a shower, get ready and when you come down all will be revealed" she sung out as you narrowed your eyes.

"i don't like all this secrecy from you russo!"

after having a nice slow get ready, you were finally making your way down the stairs, voices getting louder with each step you took. reaching the bottom to see the whole of your lounge decorated, balloons scattering the floor and a big happy birthday sign on the wall with a balloon arch going over the top of it.

being in shock of how much effort had gone into the decoration of the room, you hadn't even processed the fact that alessia's family and your family were sitting in the living room.

"happy birthday teeny! gio yelled, hearing alessia's parents and yours say it too but his standing out and being the loudest pulling you out from your day dream.

the nickname coming from your height difference not only from him but also your girlfriend. you being a few inches small then her.

"how long did this even take you to do?" you asked the blonde as she came over, flapping her brother on the way for the teasing comment as she wrapped you up in a hug. "oh i did this last night after you had gone to sleep!" she whispered in your ear.

"you look beautiful by the way" she kissed your cheek pulling away from the hug, as you went over to your parents saying your hellos to them as well as alessia's parents and brothers.

falling into conversation, as well as eating breakfast that your parents had brought for you. the morning going off to a lovely start surrounded by the people you love as you moved onto opening your presents as you were beginning to get bored of listening to giorgio ask when you were going to open them.

the younger russo brother insisting that you opened the one of him and luca first, it being a bottle of perfume which you had been wanting for some time, "woah, you guys shouldn't have" you sat with the box in your hand, standing up to hug the two of them in thanks.

"we had a little help from someone on which one to buy" luca said flashing a smile to alessia as you grinned.

"thank you!

moving onto your parents who had gotten you tickets to see a concert in london that you had been wanting to go to and alessia's parents getting you a weekend spa trip away, for you and alessia to enjoy one weekend when you both were off.

which left alessia who passed you a bag, moving the tissue paper from the top - revealing a small white bag and inside was a jewellery box. opening it there was a small dainty bracelet with a heart charm dangling from it. "here, look it has my initials on it and the. there's yours" your girlfriend pointed to the two letters AR and then to yours which was right next to hers.

"oh lessi you shouldn't have" you pouted, leaning over to wrap her in a hug, pecking her lips a few times as you pulled back from the hug. before wrapping her in a tighter hug.

"thank you lessi" you whispered as you hugged her, awhs being heard around the room from both familys. the blonde smiling, kissing you cheek a few times before you let go.

"i have one more thing for you.." alessia grinned as she reached down beside where she was sat, getting a small round box out that had a pretty bow on it. your brows furrowed as you looked down admiring the gifts the blonde had already gotten you wondering what more could you need from her. "here" the blonde said handing you the small round gift box.

opening the box left you even more confused, a small bright green fuzzy tennis ball - smaller than your regular tennis ball. you looked to the blonde who was sitting next to you a nervous laugh escaping you.

"i know i said i wanted a new hobby but- we, we both know i'm rubbish at sports!" you giggled not really understanding the gift looking at the russo brothers and her parents for any sort of hint of what the gift meant.

"it's not for you silly!" alessia was the one to laugh this time, leaving you to try and follow along with the riddles, "then who?" you hesitantly laughed, as the blonde stood up not saying a word and leaving the room coming back seconds later.

"for this little one!" alessia beamed, in her arms a small dark brown puppy. you sat in shock, no words could be found as the happy tears began to well in your eyes. as the blonde got closer, she placed the small puppy in your arms a red blanket covering it too keep it warm.

"no way- is this ours.. to keep?" you stuttered, your voice betraying you as you tried not to let the tears spill.

"of course, he's our little fur baby" alessia grinned as she sat next to you in her original seat, stroking the puppy on the head as you sat in utter awh.

you had been pestering the blonde for months now, about getting a dog. spending countless hours during a night time trying to convince her why having a dog would be a good idea but the answer was always, 'we both don't have time for a dog'

you had even got as far as one time drawing up a schedule of how a dog would fit into your schedule to show the blonde that it was possible to have a little puppy in your life but the answer was always the same.

"what you gonna call him then?" gio yelled over, as you looked up from your little fur baby. thought taking over you, "snoopy." you nodded out loud as everyone looked at you with raised eyebrows.

"yeah, snoopy. he suits it" you said, it sounded as if you were trying to convince yourself but also everyone in the room. "snoopy it is then!" alessia confirmed, smiling at you who was looking down at the puppy with so much love.

the rest of the day was spent with you having snoopy in your arms or cuddling with the little puppy or watching him as he napped making sure that he wasn't woken.

the two of you had bonded for life, he was your little child. that evening was spent with you cuddling with less as you watched a film she had let you pick as you cuddled with snoopy however both you and snoopy fell asleep within the first five minutes.

and there was no better way to end a perfect birthday.

liked by bethmead and 820,741 others

alessia if i ever loose them both, at least i know if i find one i’ll find the other cause there never apart!

comments -

bethmead a new friend for myle!

-> alessia can’t wait to introduce them🥹

ellatoone y/n finally got you to cave then?

-> alessia she did, love our little man snoopy!!

-> yourusername best birthday present ever!

#woso #woso blurbs #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #arsenal women #awfc #arsenal wfc #awfc imagine #awfc x reader #alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #arsenal #lionesses #ella toone #england #beth mead #enwoso

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matchaverse · 3 days

Text

The Walls | CL16

pairing: singer!charlesleclerc x late!partner!gasly!reader

summary: with the loss of his longterm partner, charles dedicates him and his bands music about them

faceclaim: none

warning: mentions of drugs, overdose, death, thoughts of suicide, alcohol.

no part two.

2011

[instagram] yourusername

liked by charlesleclerc, pierregasly, and 12 others

tagged | @charleclerc @pierregasly @estebanocon

yourusername | these fools are trying to make music!

charlesleclerc: fools??

pierregasly: i’ll tell my mom that y/n is being mean

yourusername: snitch.

“y/n stop being mean to your brother and his friends” your mother, Pascale, yells from the kitchen. you huff and roll eyes as you walk down the hallway from your room to your brothers room.

“you’re such a snitch” you chuckle as you take a seat on the floor next to charles as he tunes his guitar.

your brother, pierre, just rolls his eyes with a chuckle. “maybe don’t be mean to us” he shrugs as he helps esteban with his bass.

“what happen with karting?”

“we still do that but with the way max keeps winning every single race we wanted to try and dabble into something we are passionate about” charles answers looking at you with a smile. you nod in understanding.

“you guys are pretty good a making music, so do you guys think you’ll make it big?” you ask curiously. all three boys look at each other with the same idea in mind.

“yes” they all say with certainty.

2015

[instagram] yourusername

liked by charlesleclerc, taylorswift, and 126,537 others

tagged | @ChaseAtlantic

yourusername: four years later and my brother and two best friends are playing their songs in clubs!! so proud of you three ❤️

pierregasly: thank you! we wouldn’t have been able without your support ❤️

charleslecler: someone had to be our stage manager

estebanocon: y/n literally whined for days just to get that position

yourusername: no shame, i’d do it again.

estebanocon: 😒

you’re standing backstage of the local club where the boys were playing at with a few other bookies as the three young men walk back to meet you after the show.

“you three did wonderful, truly, the crowd loved you” you say with a huge smile, giving each boy a hug.

“no, thank you for getting us a gig here” esteban chuckles as he sips from his water bottle. charles and pierre nod in agreement.

“how did you get us a gig anyways?” the monégasque man asks while crossing his arms and a small smirk rests on his lips.

you give a small shrug before answering with “used to sleep with the owner”

“what?!” pierre’s voice rings out.

2017

yourusername posted a story

caption: love the party life

replies:

charlesleclerc: wya??? you walked away

yourusername: just partying

charles lost you, pierre and esteban at this party. he’s been walking around for about twenty minutes now, his messages not sending.

“chug! chug! chug!” charles hears a loud chant of a few people hooting, he makes his way over and see you standing the middle of the circle just downing whatever liquids are in the red solo cups on the table in front of you.

he shakes his head with a sigh, making his way into the circle once you finish the last cup.

“y/n..”charles mumbles as he places a hand on your waist. you turn and look at him with a smile, he can smell the alcohol in you

“hi charlie!” you slur, letting out a giggle.

“how drunk are you?”

you shrug, you stopped counting after the first few drinks. charlie’s lets out a big sigh.

“come on, let’s find the others and head back home”

2020

[instagram] charlesleclerc

liked y yourusername, madisonbeer, and 648,638 others

tagged | @yourusername

charleslecler | one year with my love ❤️

yourusername: aww baby🥺🥺

username: y/n smokes??

username: and they party all the time

username: i mean their life ig 🤷‍♀️

username: anyone else see the one clip on twitter where y/n did a line of coke?

username: 🚩🚩🚩

username: they are grown??

username: yeah but it’s not cute

“i don’t understand what the problem is!” your voice raises to match charles’s tone.

“the problem is that you don’t understand how serious drugs and alcohol can be!” the veins on his forehead and neck look like they are about to burst from the sheer amount of anger running through his body. you can only scoff in response.

“i’m young charlie! im only 22 and it’s nothing serious!”

“YES IT IS!” you flinch at his tone. charles seems this and sighs, walking closer to you and taking your hands in his own.

“baby…i’m not saying you can’t have fun but the drugs isn’t needed to have fun..please just stop”

2022

to say charles was freaking out was an understatement, he was terrified. he didn’t understand what happen with you, you were doing so much better than last year. you weren’t partying as much and he knew you stopped drinking but he didn’t know you were still doing some type of drug.

pulling up to the hospital, charles didn’t care if his parking job was decent, the only thing on his mind was you.

“how’s y/n?” charles breaths out as he makes his way to the waiting room to meet your brother. pierre had tears in his eyes and his cheeks were puffy.

“..they..t-they said it’s not looking good” pierre breaks down, charles moves forward and pulls his best friend into a hug, trying hard to keep his own tears from flowing.

“it’s okay..it’s gonna be okay..”charles whispers, not even believing his own words.

2024

[instagram] charlesleclerc

liked by pierregasly, estebanocon, and 639,739 others

tagged | @yourusername

charlesleclerc: it’s been two years since we lost you. you were the light of my life and i’m so sorry i couldn’t help you get better. i continue living on for you, i wake up every morning to keep your name alive, you were my best friend, my other half, i love you so much ❤️

if anyone is going through hardships do not hesitate to reach out and contact someone, there are people who will help you out. reach out to me, pierre or esteban because we will help you. everyone deserves to live a happy life. 🙌

i, myself, have struggled with moving forward after losing y/n but with the help of my friends and family i knew i had to keep pushing through this hard patch in my life. i understand the struggles and pain and would never wish this onto anyone

pierregasly: two years already..

estebanocon: the world is cruel.

charlesleclerc: truly don’t understand how the world moved forward after this

username: our hearts go out to you charles!! ❤️

username: you’re so strong!!

username: i reached out to charles during my depressive episode and he is a sweetheart, he did help me out.

username: i love how charles donates to rehabs around the country

username: hes a big advocate for charities that help people who are struggling with drug addiction

username: stop that’s literally so sweet

charlesleclerc: i will spend the rest of my days advocating ❤️

tags: @honethatty12

tell me why this took like three days to write 💀

#f1 smau #f1 instagram au #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 smau #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x you #formaula one pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #esteban ocon #formula 1 charles leclerc #formula one #formula one pierre gasly #formula one esteban ocon

217 notes · View notes

chahnniesroom · 2 days

Text

to have and to hold

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: you don't think there's anything chan can do to make you love him more. chan continues to prove you wrong.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lots of fluff!!

a/n: sorry it has been so long since i posted! i have been wanting to write this since that ep of return of superman where chan and felix took care of rowoon, it was so so sweet. also i'm so sorry but i did not edit this at all

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

“Do you think you’d ever want to have kids?”

Your question breaks through the quiet dialogue of the show that you and Chan are watching. Behind you, you feel Chan freeze before he forces himself to relax and continue fiddling with your fingers.

Chan hesitates for a moment longer before answering.

“I don’t know,” he says, slowly and carefully. “I think that I’d want to eventually, but right now? Being an idol- It would be difficult. I mean, for anyone it’s hard, but especially with this career…”

“Do you like children?” you ask, curious even though you can anticipate his answer.

“Yes.” This time he replies immediately, although his voice is still cautious. He releases your hands from his hold and gently nudges your shoulders so that you twist to look at him. “Y/n- Do- Are you-”

“What?” you stare at him, not sure why he suddenly seems so worried.

“Are you pregnant?” he asks gently. “It’s fine if you are! We can totally work things out and I will 100% support you the whole time-”

“Oh!” You smack yourself in the forehead. “No! Definitely not! I was just thinking.”

“Ah.” Chan slumps against the back of the couch, this time he’s actually relaxed. “Just thinking or- what brought this on?”

“I’m sorry,” you say hurriedly. “That must have been out of nowhere for you. No, it’s because my older sister’s wedding anniversary is coming up, the first one since she’s had a kid, so I wanted to let her go out without having to worry. I was wondering if you wanted to help me babysit?”

“I see,” Chan says, sounding relieved. “Your sister. Yes, I haven’t met Doyun yet, right? I’d love to help you take care of him.”

—

Your sister is delighted that you’ve offered to take Doyun for an evening and you quickly coordinate with Chan what day would work best. It’s not possible to babysit on your sister’s actual anniversary due to Chan’s schedules, but your availabilities line up on a Friday night the weekend after.

Chan is nervous leading up to it, which you find absolutely adorable. When you look over his shoulder one night, curious what he’s focusing so intently on, you find him scrolling through articles on interacting with babies as well as tips on baby-proofing an apartment.

Before your sister arrives, you work with Chan for a few hours transforming the open area of your apartment, placing pillows and draping blankets over sharp corners and making sure to keep any small objects out of reach.

When the doorbell rings, Chan panics, popping his head out of the kitchen from where he’s been trying to figure out a way to prevent Doyun from being able to open the cabinets.

“We're not ready!” he says, eyes wide.

“What do you want to do, keep them waiting outside until you finish?” you joke, then pause when it looks like Chan is actually considering it. “Don't worry, I'll go let my sister in and you keep working on that. We'll be watching Doyunnie the whole time, so even if you can't work that out, it's fine.”

Your sister doesn't stay for very long. She hands Doyun off to you and assures both you and Chan that your place looks safe for a baby. After going through everything that is packed in the massive diaper bag that she’s leaving with you, she heads back home to get ready for her dinner.

Doyun has a short attention span and cycles between playing with a stuffed animal, a ball,

some plastic fruits and vegetables, and toy trains within the first hour. He is so adorable that you and Chan don't mind how much energy is required to keep him occupied. Luckily he's a fairly easygoing baby and hasn't fussed at all, although it did take a while for him to warm up to the two of you.

He's comfortable now, especially since Chan has started to spin the two of them around, hands firmly gripping Doyun’s torso. Doyun absolutely loves it, shrieking in excitement with his eyes crinkling. Even after a few minutes of the same thing, he never grows bored, just as thrilled everytime that Chan lifts him above his head. Although Doyun isn’t very heavy yet, after 15 minutes there’s sweat visible on Chan’s forehead and he’s starting to get out of breath.

“How about we take a bit of a break? Do you want to read?” Chan sits Doyun down against some pillows and rummages through the bag that your sister packed, finding some of the books that she included.

Chan hands the books over and although Doyun accepts both of them, he throws them aside and instead clumsily reaches up towards Chan, clearly asking to be picked up again. Chan pretends to groan and complain as he lifts Doyun back up.

“Aww,” you coo. “He really likes you.”

“And I really like him,” Chan says, spinning Doyun around. “I just wish I hadn’t gone to the gym earlier today, I didn’t realise what a workout this would be!”

Eventually Doyun grows tired, no longer begging Chan to continue. This time when Chan settles him on the ground, he just looks around curiously before crawling up to Chan and grabbing at his curls.

“He’s so small,” Chan marvels. “Look at his little fingers!”

He reaches out towards Doyun, who immediately wraps his hand around Chan’s index finger and pulls it towards his mouth.

It's comical to see the difference in size between their hands and Chan visibly melts, allowing Doyun to gum at his fingers, quickly covering them in a sheen of saliva.

“Are you hungry Doyunnie?” Chan asks. “It’s almost time for dinner, let’s see what your auntie prepared for us.”

By the time Doyun is set up in a high chair with a bib on, you’ve finished cooking. Dinner for Doyun is simple, consisting of steamed vegetables, tofu, rolled omelette, rice, and a bit of fruit. You’ve also used the same ingredients plus a few additions to make kimchi stew for you and Chan.

Chan is distracted the whole meal, prioritising feeding Doyun and wiping his face clean in between bites over eating his own food. It's a futile effort since Doyun seems more interested in smearing the food around rather than getting it into his mouth.

When you're finished with your food, you switch spots with Chan and coax Doyun into eating the last few bites he has left while Chan scarfs down his own meal.

After dinner, you carry Doyun into the bathroom and start filling the bathtub with a shallow layer of warm water. He watches with wide eyes as you add bubble bath that changes the colour of the water to a deep blue and creates a thick cover of bubbles. After washing the dishes and wiping down the kitchen, Chan joins the both of you just as you’re rinsing suds out of Doyun’s hair.

Cleaned and dressed in a fuzzy onesie with tiny bear ears poking out from the hood, Doyun struggles to stay awake for the rest of the evening. It’s obvious that he’s tired, he’s starting to get cranky and his blinks get longer and longer, but he stubbornly continues to play. After his third time nodding off while slotting plastic shapes into a cube, Chan picks him up and walks him around the room, rocking him slightly while humming a melody that you can’t recognize.

When your sister comes to pick up Doyun, he's sprawled out on Chan’s chest, deeply asleep. A line of drool drops from his open mouth to form a wet spot on Chan’s shirt, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind, staring at Doyun with stars in his eyes.

That night, right when you're about to fall asleep, Chan speaks up. His arms are wrapped around you and you can feel his breath against the back of your neck.

“I think,” he says quietly. “I think I want kids. Not now, I still have the same concerns as before, but in the future? I want it.”

“You did so well with Doyunnie, it looked so natural,” you agree. “I think you would be a great dad.”

“Only if you’re there by my side,” he corrects.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

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netherfeildren · 3 days

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Notes On a Virtuous Affair

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: One would think this road ends in something virtuous—a greenness so dazzling it hurt the eyes—and not the sort of man waiting in his far out removed solitude.

He was the experienced one, you the innocent. It should have been different. Maybe it should’ve felt different. And yet, there was something in him that made you feel very much the conquering one, you the baptizing one.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Post outbreak; Jackson Joel Miller; Dom/sub undertones; Rough Sex; Impact Play; Face Slapping; Spanking; PIV sex; Ass Play; Oral Sex (m!receiving); Come Eating; Throat Fucking; Unprotected Sex; Potentially Toxic Dynamics? (haha?); Complicated Feelings; They Love Each Other in Their Own Weird Way, Ok?; Older Man/Younger Woman; Idk What This Is, I Don't Expect You to Either;

A/N: miss you guys, sorry for the disappearing act <3

Word Count: 3.1K

Read on AO3

Notes On a Virtuous Affair

Sunlight spills over everything, and the pastoral green leads you to him.

One would think this road ends in something virtuous—a greenness so dazzling it hurt the eyes—and not the sort of man waiting in his far out removed solitude.

But there’s an incongruity afoot here that only you appreciate.

The secret lies in that there’s a riddle woven through the three miles you pilgrim to see him weekly. The first, a boon, the green lush wasteland, if a thing that’s alive can be wasted. The second, an honesty, I’ll venture this distance for him. The third, a precursor, when your muscles start to tingle, your thighs, hot and itchy, nape, coated in a taste of salt. Your feet crunch along the gravel and dirt, protected by the soft leathered boots inherited from Lucy who’d died last Monday. A good start to the week, with new boots, and a thoughtful gift she’d left you, your friend, when your own shoes were so worn from all the walking you do for him. The end of the world changes death, finds good things within it.

The sun warms the bridge of your nose, and you tip your face up to the too-bright light, trying your hardest to look straight at the intensity of it. He’s very much like this too. Why would you look directly at the sun if not for the hurting it brings? Your palms splayed forward at your sides, the breeze moving through your fingers, and the world is all around you alive in this apocalypse.

Jackson is left further and further behind as you move towards him, and what no one understands, not even Joel Miller himself, is that there is something virtuous about this affair.

“I’m gonna fuck your mouth now,” he says down at you, bare as the day you were born and kneeling before his clothed and towering height. Nothing but the heavy hanging length of his cock is naked for you, the first you’d ever seen in your whole life. If he had his way, the only one you’d ever see for the rest of it. The wide head is slick and glossy, the way it bobs obscenely from his open jeans looking like the weight of it would hurt, the way it juts from the bed of hair at this groin like a threat to you.

You know now, after all his focused training, that it only hurts him when you don’t tend to it as he needs, that it’s only a threat when you fail to do the same. He’s shown you the rules of hurting, in all these months you’ve come your three promised miles to him time after time. Shown you how it comes easy, that of hurting someone you love. A running in place sort of thing. You know all the steps that will come, the exact spot you’ll tread in. The way to propel yourself forward to finally leave that same place, avoid it, if you want.

“Open wider. Won’t fit like that,” he clicks his tongue, voice a burr as he grips his throbbing flesh and with the other too big hand, also like a seeming threat, but not, he gives you a quick, softly stinging slap to the high of your cheekbone. The sound, fast and snapping like his disapproving tongue. You swallow a moan, looking up at him with that look in your eyes you know disturbs him, adoration, letting the hinges of your jaw go loose, saliva pooling beneath the cover of your tongue. “Don’t you want me?” He asks.

And you blink once, moan crossing the bridge to a laugh if your mouth wasn’t stretched wide as it’ll go. He sees it though, skipping water in your eyes and gives that half smile, the mean one, the one that says he has all the answers in the world, knows all the things there are to know, that one you like best. Good girl, and his voice makes no sound, only the shape of the words on his mouth. You haven’t been good enough yet to hear the real thing of them out loud. This tells you that you must apply yourself to the task at hand, making him come.

One heavy tap to the flat of your tongue sticking out for him first, and then he’s slicking that fat head against the surface, giving you the first real taste, salt and musk trickle down the back of your throat and you moan again, eyes screwing shut tight, cunt aching something fierce. Leaking just like the tip of his cock leaks too.

That’s the thing about this thing, the one you see very well and Joel still fails to. The two of you, as disparate as you might seem, are the same in all the basic but most important ways. Too much in common for him to look at in the eye comfortably and still do the things you do.

“Open your throat. Get me hard.” In your head, he calls you baby. In reality, only sometimes, when you’re extra good, does that happen. But in your imagination, where it matters more, he doesn't ask nice, but you are his baby.

He slides back, back, hits the end of your throat, pulls out against the wet heat of your tongue. You keep your jaw wide until you feel him harden entirely, until he stretches his neck back, tendons jumping stark, clench of his jaw fluttering with a choked groan. “Suck me,” your permission to savor him like you need to.

Hands pressed firmly to your bare knees, not digging at your soft wet like you’d like, or pawing at him as you’d like even more, you close your lips around him, cheeks hollowed and suck hard, tonguing at his slit on the pull back so that he’s bearing his teeth at you in a growl and shoving forward again hard, a snarl as the cinch of your tight throat strangles the head of his cock on every one of your swallows. Your eyes water, but he pets softly at the same spot he’d stung earlier with his slap.

A game you used to play with your siblings, who could slap one another harder until the other gave out. It’d taken a while for you to come to the realization, but eventually, you’d realized the memory of it in your mind as it exists now wasn’t innocent the way it should’ve been. That there had been something you’d liked about it in a strange way—that hurting. That the first time you’d asked Joel to play the same game with you, you’d wanted him to slap you other places just as hard until you gave out also.

The games were part of the thing. His own strange rules, like the way you couldn’t touch him sometimes—you dig your bitten down nails into the soft skin of your inner thighs—only when he said it was okay was it allowed. The way you were never allowed to touch your cunt unless he said so also. He had weird things about him, turned strange by the dangerous ways of life. Like the solitude, the house out and away, the begging you had to do for him to have you.

Sameness.

He wraps his fist in your hair, more sting, “Gonna fill your belly with my come, yeah?” His thrusts pick up pace, pulling your head back as far as your neck allows so that he can fuck your throat in full, jaw hanging wide, and you’re just the wet and willing hole you know he sometimes wishes you could always stay as.

The thick cock against your tongue throbs once, twice and then he’s spilling hot and heavy down your open throat, sweet salt against the back of your tongue while you try and breathe through his strangling, tears spilling.

When he pulls back, slipping wet and heavy from your mouth you fall forward onto your palms, breathing fast, almost hyperventilating, stinging with the forced will to remain obedient. Your spine burns beneath your skin and your sore jaw hangs unwillingly open, sloppy mouth dripping a string of semen between your splayed palms.

He crouches before you, dripping cock like your mouth, milked to heavy softness hangs long and sated between his thighs. And he pets your crown, the vulnerable shell of your ear, whole body on fire so that every inch of skin hurts without his touch, hurts worse with it.

“Good girl,” he says now with voice.

The walk seems longer some days. A thousand miles plus an eon instead of merely three. Especially on the days you’re more desperate than usual. The ones when your stomach feels full of sugar for him and the memory taste of his cock is already aching in your molars. Those days your steps are hurried, look in your eyes frenzied to get to him, to escape the things you leave behind. A too full house, your sister’s squalling, teething baby, your little brothers, and too many mouths to feed and not attention to be had, not enough mother for everyone to get loved.

There’s reasons for this game between the two of you, you’d had to come out and find your attention somewhere else.

Your love too.

And if it comes with a sting sometimes, well, so had your mother’s. You like it like this now.

The first time he’d touched your cunt: show me that pretty pussy, baby, and he’d had you from that very first sweet word, you gonna let me finger it? You’d spread wide, leaked into the cup of his palm like a whore, you’d needed to make sure he was for keeping from the first try, you see. So you’d done all he’d said, taken four fingers and only cried a little bit but whined a lot. Been all, hurts, Joel, high pitched and dragging his name out on a puppy whimper.

He’d given you that first lesson in hurt the very first time: Yeah? Supposed to. A real mean man. And then made you gush into that very cupped palm so that he could drink of your sweetness.

The third mile comes to an end, the precursor, over, his house in view. It’s all quiet and slumbering and the long grass pulls you forward with its wind blown sway. The wide door to his shed is propped open, half finished rocking chair up on the workbench that sways with the intruding gust. The grass whispers behind you, the dark woods across the field moan, and he’s nowhere while the Tetons loom in the distance.

You drag your fingers along the slats of his house as you pass, everything is so quiet, like he’d never been here. Like he’d gone and left you the way he’s promised he’d never do. Your belly feels bloated with heat, heart turned into four incongruous chambers that no longer beat in tune, memories of him rioting between each thump. Your cunt goes soft and drooling in your panties as your fear beats higher and higher, and you come to the mouth of the shed, peering into the cool darkness of this little place where he makes his beautiful things. The things that go into people’s homes to be used by people’s families to be stored in people’s memories.

The gleam of the sun does not cross the threshold, and you brace your palms on either side of the wide door, the air thrums and he’s not here—yet—you slide the toe of Lucy’s old boot across the border of sunlight into sanctuary and peek your closed-eyed face into the shade right before you’re taken bodily to the ground by his heavy weight. Palms catching splinters, his strong chest heaves into the line of your spine, strong arm at your waist to pull your breath from your lungs and your legs from under you.

He forces you belly first to the ground, other hand circling your throat in the imitation of a strangle lest you lose yourself and decide to struggle for the first time ever. But you dig your fingernails into the dirt, scratching for purchase in preparation of what’s about to come, all the fight going out of you; body, half in shadow, half in sunlight. Your bones feel salt bleached. An over abundance of sodium in the blood that renders you catatonic for him.

He nuzzles soft at your nape while his hand shoves under your dress, ripping your underwear down your legs so that the elastic cuts into your tender skin to hurt. All incongruous movement, this man is.

“Didn’t your daddy ever tell you not to go creepin’ ‘round strange men’s homes?” His voice is so deep, drawled, broken up into different notes of lust and anger and temerity. All the strange things that make Joel Miller up.

Yeah, you sigh into the dirt. “Told me exactly how it’d go for me if I did.”

You hitch your rump up then, presenting your cunt for fucking. The breeze doesn’t do half to soothe the throbbing wet. The sort of ache that’ll only be fixed by something heavy inside the hurting place. The sound of his belt quiets the disparate chambers, the beat in your ears of rushing blood is uniform now, there’ll be a wet spot in the shape of you in the dirt when he’s through. You lift your hips higher, knees scraped rough as you spread wider, face pressed to the ground and your fingers are well and burrowed in their little gouges now.

He smacks the heft of it against you asshole, spits and presses a little. He likes to scare you sometimes. Nooo, Joel, all whining stutter, but with your back arching deeper like a little babied liar; you don’t mind where he puts it, only that he puts it somewhere.

“Hush,” he soothes all nice, spanks your ass once all not— “Gonna teach you a lesson.” And shoves inside, bumping against your womb on the first try, stretching your hole too wide, too quick. And there’s no prep, no qualm. No need to hesitate when you own a thing. You swallow your animal cry, ah ah ah, you want to hear how good you’ve been out loud. He grips your hips tight enough to bruise which is what you know he wants and fucks hard and fast, each swing whistles with ownership.

He fucks you in the dirt like an animal, and this affair is virtuous.

He teaches you the truth about hurting, about ownership, about so many things that only a man like Joel Miller could teach a girl like you. And all the while he tells you that you’re too pretty to take such an ugly fucking.

The way he works your cunt, hungry, balls swinging wet so that they sting like his slaps, tip battering hard so that it aches like gratitude.

These are the things three miles give you. A whole man to teach you about the whole world.

The slick squelch of your overwhelmed cunt sounds loud, no more disparate heartbeat, no more green grassed whispers. Only the sound of his grunting above you like an animal remains. “You’re the perfect little cunt. You know that, baby?” There it is, you sigh. Start to tremble around him like that, like his good baby that you are, desperate flutters, little gash being fucked into obedience like you need. Your overwhelmed pants make little dirt dream clouds before your eyes as you start to come for him, crying his name, crying your love, crying that you’re so, so thankful.

“Don’t stop, Joel. Not yet.” And he loves it when you beg, loves it when your cunt pulls tight like a knot.

“Not yet,” he promises because he might be a real mean man, but he loves you like separating salt from blood.

Complicated and precise.

When he’s through with you, there’s sunlight spilling over everything again. It’s journey goes on and on, and his semen drips from your cunt now. He turns gentle, thrusting still, making sure it’s fucked deep, pulsing in time with your own throb. Rhythms merge between the two of you.

His rules are strange, his claims over you equally mysterious. He won’t say things out loud, won’t let you touch any real part of him, but his strange truths ring loud anyways, and when your heart isn’t disjointed, you hear him perfectly well.

When he lays you out bare and trembling across his messy bed, the groaned pains of his age and rutting in the dirt like an animal sound from him as he drapes himself alongside you. Large and hairy, feet hanging off the end of the bed, entirely real with one knee propped up so that his thick cock lays heavy and soft over the swell of his belly. Your heart beats soft and overfull now.

You watch the sun set across the planes of his chest and bask in the blue dark as the night draws breath around you. The work of meting out obedience to little girls who come searching for it is toiling, and you watch him melt into sleep, but right before he’s just gone away from you, with a single finger petting at the jut of the old broken bone in his shoulder, your whispered plea: Will you give me a falseness? You don’t call it a lie. This is a virtuous thing, after all.

Lies aren’t allowed in this house.

He breathes a deep sigh, and you watch the fan of his long lashes sweep open, staring up at the shadowed rafters of his home. You swear you can see each and every individual whisker in his thick beard, dark and gray dispersed throughout. You see every single detail.

He’d told you once there were ghosts here, in this house, and you’d learned later it wasn’t a lie. This became more and more obvious the more you got to know him.

He stares up at them now.

When he’d taken your virginity, when it’d left you the way you’d always imagined it would, covered in tears and blood and semen, you’d made that promise to each other. That you wouldn't lie, that he’d have all of you, that you’d not touch all of him. The ghost lay beside you in the damp bed of your lost innocence that day. It’d been just so ever since and over many miles of three you’d come to appreciate the realities of it. Who could be more connected than two people who always tell each other their truths exactly as they are?

“Give me a falseness,” you say again, not a lie.

“A good kind of a bad kind?”

You flip a mind’s coin, wish you could see the exact ghosts he sees— “Bad.”

He turns to look at you, this half smile he wears is your second favorite one now, the honest one, and it’s all there for you to see. All the disparate chambers of Joel, just like your heart beating in your ears. You suppose the ghosts don’t matter then.

“I don’t love you.”

And you nod solemn. Bad, like a whisper, like your game.

You smile back, the one you know he likes best, the one that looks like his.

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leqonsluv3r · 21 hours

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insatiable

— leon and you begin a relationship and find yourselves infatuated with each other, a blurb

contains nsfw content, 18+, MDNI

masterlist taglist

ever since you and leon admitted your feelings for each other, things had been different for you.

certain things had changed.

you found yourself more insatiable then normal, so did he. it definitely wasn’t just you, you both found yourselves barely leaving the bedroom in the honeymoon stage of your relationship.

it was like you both were hungry for each other, hungry for each others bodies like oxygen. it wasn’t normal but the affect you had on each other, it wasn’t just normal either.

like now, in the dregs of post-sex bliss, you both were laying in his bed in his apartment. your t-shirt was his and found a home on your body, laying with him in his rumpled blue sheets of his king sized bed.

limbs entangled and smalls snores leaving you both. you knew that in the waking of the night, you’d both find each other again. with your hands, your mouths and your bodies.

neither of you could help it, you were both addicted to each other now like junkies needing a fix. you wanted to blame him but you couldn’t, he was handsome. you were only human after all.

so when you both wake up in the morning, act like a normal couple for a bit, then it’s back to him ravaging you in bed. you didn’t even care either how he degraded you in the midst of all of it. you knew his respect for you ran deep, that much was aware.

but in these moments, like now, when your sat on his cock and he’s fucking into you…all of the respect is gone and only love and lust remain.

“pretty little pussy is squeezing me baby, christ.” he groans out, his hands are on your hips and he’s fucking himself up into you while you just sit on his lap and take it. “uhh…” is all you can respond, your fucked out this point and he’s practically splitting you in two.

your thoughts are only of him and his cock pounding up into you as your thighs hug his lap. you bury your head into his shoulder and whine. “poor little baby, can’t handle all this cock.” he manages to get out in between groans.

the only sounds in the room are your conjoined heavy breathing and his thighs slapping up against your ass, his hands burning brands into your hips to keep you in place while he uses you like a cock sleeve.

you moan in response and flutter around his dick on instinct, squeezing him a little. “oh? you like that, you like taking my big cock, baby?” he teases in your ear, one of his large hands coming down to squeeze your ass. his hips buck a little faster into you and start hitting that spot over and over.

“yes, like…your cock…” your words make no sense as you practically drool on his shoulder, holding onto him for dear life as he keeps fucking up into you. “i know you do, your a little slut for my cock…” he groans as he fists one hand on your ass and the other on your hip.

you whine loudly and your pussy flutters around him again at the degradation, letting it go straight to your core. he knows that your falling apart because of him, he knows he’s the only one that’s ever made you feel this hungry.

he’s trying to not let it go to his head, or his cock.

but he can’t help it, he’s bouncing you like your a fuck toy on his lap and your eating every bit of it up. “oh shit, fuck…baby…” he’s groaning and he smacks your ass cheek, squeezing the reddened flesh beneath his hands.

you squeeze around him again, your eyes practically pooling with tears as he abuses your sore pussy with his cock. you don’t even care anymore, too high on bliss and the feeling of euphoria that only him pleasuring you can do.

“made to take cock, made to be a good little cock slut.” he mumbles into your neck with another smack to your ass as he keeps thrusting his hips up into you over and over. you just whine and nod against his shoulder in response, your pussy tightening around him again.

he slips his hand around to the tight little ring of muscle, causing you to whine as he circles your asshole with his thumb. “maybe i’ll plug both your holes, keep you full and needy for me.” he hums through a groan. your body practically vibrating at the insinuation.

“please…” you whimper into his shoulder pathetically, his hand on your ass lightly smacking it again and his thrusts going deep and slower now. edging and teasing you in the way that makes your skin feel like it’s on fire.

“oh? really? you’d like that?” you can practically hear the smirk through his strained words in your ear, his deep and rough timbre vibrating through you like your nearing orgasm.

you moan and nod into his shoulder in response. he clicks his tongue, “whatever baby wants, baby gets.” he brings his thumb up to his mouth, licking on it and sucking it and spitting on it a little before he brings it back down to your asshole.

you almost scream in pleasure when he inserts his thumb into your ass, double penetrating you on his cock and thumb. you feel like you could die happily right there, filled with all of him.

you don’t even care how fucked out you must look, not when it feels so good to have him filling you up in both holes. “such a needy little slut, always needing my cock and fingers.” he mumbles into your ear with a small nip to your earlobe.

the hand on your hip is keeping you steady again as he starts thrusting into you faster, your arousal combined with his is lewd, echoing throughout his bedroom.

“gonna cum…” you manage to moan in between his rapid thrusts up into you, making you whimper and almost scream. you felt drool leak out of your lips and your eyes roll back a little. he thrusts his thumb deeper into your ass at the same time as he thrusts deep inside of you.

he hits that spot that almost makes you see stars, “good girl, such a good little slut…cum for me baby.” he rambles as he feels himself get closer. that band inside the both of you about to snap at each other’s movements.

all it takes is a couple more thrusts of his hips up into you for you to fall apart, clenching on his thumb and his cock as you moan loudly. he groans as he feels you come and he continues fucking you through it, driving your shaking body into overstimulation.

“too much…” you whine as you grip at his shoulders, your eyes squeezing shut. he keeps moving his hips up into you, chasing his own orgasm. “it’s okay, baby, i’m close. you can take it.” he presses a sloppy kiss to your ear.

you tremble and shake as he keeps thrusting up into you, you feel his muscle tense and then warmth floods your lower belly. your head resting on his shoulder and his thumb leaving your ass. he presses kisses on the side of your temple and down to your ear.

“good girl…good girl.” he murmurs into your hair, rubbing a hand along your bare spine in smoothing caresses. his cock still twitching a little inside of you. your body slumping into his on exhaustion from your previous love making.

you sigh in content, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck while he rubs on your spine. giving you love and aftercare even though you were still full of him, full of his come now.

you felt so full of his love and you hoped the honeymoon phase never ended, not once. you wished, selfishly that you could stay like this forever and be with him like this every moment of every day. even though you both knew better then that.

but the insatiable act of you two being together was one of the many reasons why you loved him so much. it was all of it, him and the way he treated you. he loved you for who you are, and you did him.

so even if you both fucked like rabbits, it was only proof that you two trusted each other enough to go to those places with each other.

because you both were truly insatiable for each other.

and that was enough for the both of you because you would never get enough of each other.

an: thank you guys for 800 followers, again, holy shit balls. i love you guys so much and i say that every time but i truly mean it. you guys are amazing, so thankful for all of you. i hope you guys liked this, it’s pure filth and the idea has been contaminating my brain since i thought of it. pls reblog, like and interact. love you guys, kisses. xx.

taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim @adollrable @leonkennedygvrl @cherubify (interact with my taglist at the beginning if you wanna be added <33)

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annakusminaa · 21 hours

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B4 n’ after/life update🌱

Hello my lovelies!! I wanna apologize for going M.I.A. Especially after once posting daily. Blah.

My life has just been like flopped upside down, complete 180. So my mom hasn’t mentioned my bod since being home these past few days. She mentioned it in like every damn sentence when she first picked me up. Jeeeeezus. even getting home and how she was “frightened.” But not only that.

I completely have extreme hunger and it’s put me in such a bad place mentally. Like bruh. “How did I end up in Canada? I hate *** Canada?” (Iykyk) it’s been hard because I went from staying to my cals for 2 months to this. GRRR. I was SOOOOO close to being under 100 lbs. and now I’m prob like 110. Which. In heinsight is low yeah. But what a FUMBLE on my part.

Half has been purposeful, because my plan was to eat regularly in front of the mother, and get back on my bs on Monday. It is now Tuesday and I am not back on my bs. ☹️🫠🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

I genuinely do plan to get back to where I was. I mean it’s been a liiiillll over a week of eating … a lot… I GOTTA get back on my fitness journey. So that’s a big reason why I haven’t been posting because I’m like fuuuuukkkk. I’m a mess. I’m not ur fun time anna k rn. also it’s gonna be super super hard bc my mom likes to make suppers for my bf and i, and now she herself has a bf. So she’s gon expect family dinners everynight. So that’s not fun. I gotta figure out how to tackle this situation frfr 💯

Anywho, this is a b4 and after of my lil journ. About 20-25lbs difference here. Tbh maybe it’s the dysmorphia but like. Idk. It’s not like some big wow crazy insane difference. Like my mom was being a liiiiil dramatic. But moms know best ig. 🤨🤔🤔

I think if I’m come back to posting daily it will be that 30 days questionnaire. Because I’m all gross and bloated rn and cannot be taking pics. So really bare with me guys. I could come back and lie on here but as the aspiring blogger I am ✨✨✨ I am fully honest about stuff and my hurdles. As I said it’s only been about a week of hardcore falling off the band wagon so realistically I can get back quickly to where I was I’m sure. Thank you for all the kind words these past stressful days. You all are amazing.

I ALSO GOT A NEW CAT. SO I’ve been busy too. 🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

-ANNA K

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cerisereids · 2 days

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a/n: having a lot of thoughts about beefy dad bod hotch thanks very much to this post from @jaden-treesters and the reblog tags that came along with it (specifically from what @hotchfiles said about him gaining weight i took that and ran)

warnings: there’s some discussion of body insecurities so don’t read if that’s triggering for you!

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

during his time at the bureau, aaron hotchner has put on a few pounds, 'beefed up' as rossi and morgan like to tell him. he knows it's natural. he's a father, he's incredibly busy, bodies change. it happens. knowing that still doesn't stop the feeling of dread creeping through his stomach, all the way through to his chest, wrapping itself around his throat when he sees how tight his shirts have been fitting lately. he's never been a fashion guru, that much is for certain, but he notices the ways in which the cotton hugs certain parts of his body he'd rather kept hidden. the way his arms bulge in the fabric, the fullness of his tummy showing through the pudge that flows just slightly over the waist of his pants. natural or not, it makes him a little insecure, knowing that he shows signs of aging in such a way. he doesn't have much time to feel too bad, though, not with you around.

you meet him in the conference room one cozy morning. it's early, before the rest of your coworkers show up, one thing you and your workaholic boyfriend have in common. he sees the way your eyes light up when you see him, and he can't miss the way your eyes hungrily trail down his body. he grows self conscious for a moment, trying to hide that extra pudge by holding a case file in front of his tummy. you will be having none of that, though, and he should've known. it's not long until you've crossed the room entirely, hands flying over every inch of his softness. the warmth from your hands spreads through his body, coating his skin in a sugary sweet warmth he hadn't allowed himself to feel before he met you. the sweetness of your touch distracts him so much that it takes him a moment to register the feeling of your warm, wet lips following in the wake of your hands. you're kissing everywhere you can, his suit jacket long forgotten on the floor. his eyes close as your lips trail down his arms, focusing heavily on his biceps, your hands squeezing and rubbing over the fabric. you unbutton only the top button on his dress shirt, kissing his chest and neck there while your hands untuck the shirt, rubbing over his soft tummy with newfound stretch marks littering the skin there. he shudders, goosebumps awakening all over his skin, the hairs standing up. just as your hands began to drop tantalizingly low, you move them up to cup his jaw, forcing his eyes to bore into yours. "you're beautiful," you whisper, placing a sweet kiss on his lips, which he accepts greedily. "but i've-" "i don't want to hear it," you cut off what would have been a self deprecating comment on his weight, you both knew that, by placing a finger over his lips. "you are the most delicious..." you begin, placing a kiss behind his ear, "the most beautiful..." another one, along his neck, "the most handsome..." another one, this time to his cheek, "...sweetest guy i've ever met," you punctuate your thoughts with another kiss to his lips. aaron whimpers, and he can feel your prideful smile widen against him. you've always loved being the one to reduce the aaron hotchner to a puddle of mush. you pull away reluctantly, hands resting in his belt loops. "i think rossi just got here," you breathe against his lips, "fix yourself up." you wink at him, leaving him to clean up your mess with a swift slap on his butt. he chuckles breathlessly, watching your figure retreat and greet rossi as if you weren't seconds away from debauchery in the conference room.

#this was not proof read #bon appetit #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner criminal minds #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner smut #belle’s blurbs a.h.

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craisinsensation1029 · 19 hours

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Tri Harder

Suguru Geto & Satoru Gojo

originally posted on AO3 ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ im trying to stop being lazy and transfer more stuff lmao. saw challengers yesterday and it was pretty nice!! loved the tension

After an innocent party game, Geto & Gojo make it their mission to fuck you. That's it.

Ch 2, Ch 3 (will update links when uploaded but feel free to read on ao3)

fem reader, alcohol, making out, dry humping, vaginal fingering, stsg one braincell activities, NO ONE IS STRAIGHT

5.7k

MDNI

“Seven minutes in heaven? Really?” Geto asked, looking down at the brown liquid in his cup. He took a small sip, grimacing at the taste of the cheap beer. Perhaps he should have brought something from home. “Seems a bit juvenile, don’t you think?”

Gojo looked at the face Geto made when he swallowed, and decided not to fill his cup at all. “I’m not playing that,” Gojo affirmed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Shoko slurred as she took another swig of her drink. The girl was able to drink anything no matter how vile the taste was. She shoved Gojo and Geto down to the floor where everyone else already heeded her request. Well, more like they allowed her to believe her strength could physically move either of them. “It’s my birthday, this is my party, and we’re going to play what I want.”

“What’s next?” Gojo grumbled, trying to comfortably fit his proportions to sit Indian style in the space allotted. “Playing Duck, Duck, Goose?”

Shoko slapped the back of his head so hard his sunglasses flew off his face.

Utahime laughed wildly as he put them back on his face while Shoko had quickly moved on from the act of aggression, whipping her head around wildly.

“Something wrong, Shoko?” Utahime asked between fits of laughter.

She said your name as her eyes continued to scan the room. “I don’t want to start the game until everyone is here.” She glared at Geto and Gojo. “Everyone is playing, after all.”

“We’re playing, jeez. ” Gojo rolled his eyes, although no one would be able to see the act of irritation beneath the shades.

Geto however, always seemed to know what Gojo was doing even when he tried his best to conceal his actions. “Play nice, Satoru. I’m sure this won’t be an all night thing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he groaned, but then perked up. He said your name questioningly, and looked over at Geto. “You know who that is?”

Geto cupped his chin with his thumb and index finger. “I think that’s one of Shoko’s med school friends.” He knew the name sounded familiar, but he never had a face to put with it. “I’m pretty sure she mentioned that they study for their classes together, or something like that.”

Before Gojo could respond, the doorbell rang, and Shoko was bounding for the door. Turning the deadbolt seemed to be incredibly difficult in her already drunken state, so Haibara rushed over to assist her.

Shoko squealed your name once the door was open, throwing her arms around your neck. “You’re here!”

“In the flesh,” you chuckled as you wrapped an arm around her back to give her a small hug. She unlatched herself from you so you had space to step inside. “Happy Birthday! And I brought drinks!” A large blue cooler was behind you, and you reached for the handle to wheel it inside.

“Yes!” Haibara pumped his fist excitedly. “I got it, don’t worry!”

“Yu,” you cooed, placing a hand briefly on his arm, “you will always have my heart.”

“My heart's always yours, you know that!” Haibara answered back excitedly.

Gojo strained his ears from the living room to hear what you and Haibara were discussing by the doorway, but he couldn’t quite make it out. It seemed that you two were familiar. He furrowed his brow and looked at Geto. “How does Yu know her when we’ve never met her?”

“Are we supposed to know everyone Shoko knows?” Geto deadpanned.

“Well if she’s hiding hot friends from us, I’ll be mad,” Gojo huffed. Geto paid him no mind.

Shoko was practically salivating at the sight of the unopened cooler. “What did you bring this time?”

You laughed easily and pointed toward the keg in the corner of the room. “Whatever isn’t in there. You know that cheap shit always gives me a headache.”

“Oh, shut up!” Shoko rolled her eyes. “But anyway, you’re just in time. We’re about to play some games!”

You walked with Shoko along with Haibara, wheeling the cooler behind him, from the doorway to the living room where everyone was seated and waiting.

Gojo looked up eagerly while Geto looked up much more discreetly to get a glimpse of you.

You had on a light purple, bustier lace crop top with the perfect amount of cleavage spilling over the top. Gojo’s eyes trailed hungrily while Geto’s trailed much more tastefully to see the smooth skin of your stomach, belly button adorned with a pink, rhinestone belly button ring. A pleated, denim skirt that was almost too short to be practical sat snugly on your hips and gave way to lush thighs.

“I want to go first,” Gojo said quickly, perking up in his seated position. “This is one of my favorite games, after all.”

If looks could kill, Gojo would be dead. Shoko pointed an accusing finger at him. “ You didn’t want to play, so you and Suguru can decide who’s going last. ”

“I never said that,” Gojo grumbled, shrinking back down.

“Shoko, how about you introduce us to your friend before we start?” Geto suggested smoothly, more so because he didn’t want to sit next to a brooding Gojo. “Well at least I know Gojo and I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting her yet.”

Shoko was already head deep in the cooler, popping back up with a hard seltzer. “Oh, yeah. I guess you haven’t met her.”

You gave Gojo and Geto a small smile along with a wave before saying your name. They introduced themselves as well, and you extended your hand. Geto gave it a soft shake while Gojo took the opportunity to kiss the skin on the top of your hand.

“Great, now you have the burn the skin off your hand,” Utahime grumbled, all but pulling you away from Gojo’s grasp so you could sit down next to her.

“Will I get leprosy if I don’t?” you laughed, opting to sit on your knees.

“Probably something worse.” You wondered why she had such disdain for Gojo, but the utter look of disgust on her face made you not even want to ask any further questions. That was their business.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you assured, patting her knee.

Shoko plopped down on Utahime’s other side, and Haibara pushed the cooler in the center of the circle where everyone sat.

“The drinks are for everyone,” you said cheerily. “Please, take whatever you would like! I brought tons.”

Gojo didn’t hesitate to open the cooler, getting a limeade flavored hard seltzer; Geto opted for a mango flavored one. Nanami, Haibara, Utahime, and Mei Mei all grabbed drinks as well, cracking them open simultaneously. Everyone clinked their cans together shouting, “Happy Birthday, Shoko!”

“Whoever chugs their drink the fastest gets to go first!” Shoko exclaimed.

“Wait, what are we playing?” you asked.

Gojo wasted no time in gulping down his beverage. Whatever game was going to be played, it looked like you weren’t going first.

Gojo slammed his empty can on the floor, beaming at his own victory. “Looks like I am going first,” he said pointedly at Shoko.

“Not like going first is going to make it land on the person you want, idiot,” Utahime deadpanned. She drained the rest of her can and crossed her arms over her chest. “But go ahead, let’s see if the power of suggestion is going to work in your favor.”

“ What are we playing?” you asked again. Everyone was busy gulping down their drinks and declaring what turn number they would have. You hadn’t even taken a sip of your drink yet.

Geto looked at you, a gentle smile on his face that made the corner of his eyes crinkle. “Good ol’ seven minutes in heaven.”

Gojo used a foot to push the cooler to the side and turned his empty can on its side. He gave it a spin, crossing his fingers behind his back and mentally chanting your name.

“Any day now, idiot!” Gojo hadn’t even realized he closed his eyes, but of course no one else would have been able to take notice beneath the obsidian of his shades.

Gojo opened his eyes, and couldn’t help the shit eating grin that crossed his face. The top of the can landed squarely on you. “Was someone talking shit about the power of suggestion?” He cupped his hand to ear, leaning in Utahime’s direction. “Hmm? I can’t seem to hear anything.”

Geto placed a hand on Gojo’s shoulder, pulling him back slightly. “Satoru, what did I say earlier about being nice?” he chided.

“You don't have to go in there with that vermin if you don’t want to,” Utahime assured, cupping your hand in hers. “He can just spin it again.”

Shoko’s head lolled on Utahime’s shoulder as she pointed toward a door in the corner of the room. “Over there,” she hiccuped. “Don’t fuck up anything in my closet.”

Haibara tapped something on his phone. “I’ll keep the time for you guys!”

“I’m a big girl, I think I’ll be okay,” you laughed. “But I promise I’ll scream if I need help, don’t you worry.”

Gojo took off his shades, folding them and placing them in his pocket. He extended a hand toward you, and you couldn’t help but gaze at the length of his legs clad in black jeans.Your eyes continued to trail up, admiring the way the black shirt he wore stretched across the taut muscles of his chest and shoulders. A perfect, dazzling smile graced his lips, and he must have known you would pause on those brilliant, blue eyes framed by icy lashes.

You took his hand and he easily hauled you up, hand on the small of your back as you walked a few feet to the closet.

Gojo opened the door, ushering you inside.

When he pulled in the door, even with the shroud of darkness it was evident the space was tight. Gojo’s hand patted the wall looking for a lightswitch, and opted to reach above him when he didn’t find it. He was successful when he found a string, pulling it to be illuminated by a pathetic excuse of a lightbulb.

The flickering bulb cast the tiny space in a yellow glow, revealing a clothing rack stuffed to the brim with clothes on hangers on one side of the wall. Boxes lined the opposite and back walls.

You took a small step back, and he took one forward. Your back hit the wall of boxes, and he made no motion to shy away from you. Instead he inched forward again, his minty, fresh scent invading your nostrils.

He placed a hand above your head and craned his neck to look down at you. His looks were truly a marvel. His complexion was completely free of any blemishes, and he had pink, plush lips. His azure eyes were reminiscent of magnificent Caribbean waters; relaxing, cool, calm, but every bit inviting and playful.

Gojo took the same time to look at you, appreciating how every feature fit your face perfectly. Eyes framed by long lashes, perfectly groomed eyebrows, a nose so cute he would pocket it if he could, and lips that he desperately wanted to sink his teeth into.

Your chest heaved against his as he snaked a finger into the belt loop of your skirt, pulling your hips snugly against his. He said your name in a low voice. “Tell me you’ll let me kiss you.”

“You can ki–”

He wasted no time bringing his lips down onto yours.

He pressed in closer, resting one of his legs between your parted ones as his lips moved insistently against yours. Not a sliver of space existed between your bodies, and if he gripped the loop he was holding onto any more tightly, it would have broken away from the rest of the fabric.

With him angling his head downwards and you tilting yours upwards, the shapes of your lips fit perfectly together. He was rough, uncaring about the frequent bump of your noses or the occasional grating of teeth scraping against each other.

His tongue traced the shape of your upper lip, then moved to do the same to your lower lip. You could still taste the limeade flavor of the seltzer he chugged down just moments before.

He bit down on your lower lip; the force was gentle enough to be arousing, but stung just enough to cause your lips to part on impact. You moaned against him at the feeling, one of your hands snaking around to grip the hair at the base of his neck.

“ Fuck, ” he groaned against your lips, moving the hand resting above your head to cup one of your breasts. He gave it an ample squeeze as his tongue pushed past your parted lips, exploring the inside of your mouth.

It was almost if he was aiming to consume you with the ferocity of his kiss, each movement more insistent than the last. His tongue stroked yours as the hand that gripped your breast started to move further down your body. His large hand cascaded down the dip of your waist that gave way to your hips. All the while, he continued massaging his tongue against yours, moaning into your mouth while he did.

Your other hand wrapped around his back, palm splayed while your fingers dug into the material of his shirt. He let out another groan, and you took the opportunity to slip your tongue between his parted lips. His hand trailed further down, palming the flesh of your ass.

You quickly moved your tongue against his, the kiss only growing rougher as he hastily dug his fingers into the flesh of your ass. You could feel him stiffening against you through the fabric of his jeans, and you moaned into his mouth. He used the hand that was gripping your belt loop and lifted the short fabric of your skirt, desperate to press his pelvis closer against you.

Your breath hitched as he rolled his hips against you once, and your breath got caught in your throat entirely when he rolled them against you again. “ Satoru, ” you gasped, countering him by sinking your teeth into his bottom lip. You followed this up by sucking his bottom lip into your mouth, and his moans vibrated through you.

He rolled his hips against you again, pulling his lips away from yours to start a trail of kisses down your neck. They mirrored the roughness of the kisses against your lips, and you couldn’t help the moans that were coming out of you. All you could do was hope they weren’t loud enough to be heard outside, or the others outside were making enough of their own noise to drown you out.

You lifted a leg, aching for more friction. You whimpered when he rolled his hips again, your fingers digging in deeper to keep the grip you had on him. “Shit,” he murmured, licking a lewd stripe from the base of your neck to the bottom of your ear. He repeated the same action on the other side of your neck, opting to suck your earlobe into his mouth while continuing to roll his hips against you.

You panted, matching his movements to roll your hips in time with his. He gripped your ass even harder, his breaths becoming out harsh against the skin of your neck.

“One minute left!” Haibara’s voice called from the other side of the door.

Gojo wanted to make his last minute with you count, he wanted you to remember him. He wanted you to wonder why Shoko never introduced the two of you before.

With one hand still gripping your ass, he used the other to grip your throat, ensuring you were eye level with him as he continued to rut his hips against yours. “If I had more than seven minutes with you, I’d have you coming ten times over,” he whispered against your lips. “I haven’t even shown you what my tongue is really capable of,” he chuckled with a final roll of his hips.

Your eyes widened at his words as he crushed his lips against yours a final time.

“Time’s up!” Haibara called.

Your chest was heaving as you and Gojo untangled your bodies from each other. Both of your faces were flushed and sporting a sheen of sweat. He adjusted your skirt, pulling the material back down and aligning it so it was centered.

You glanced at what was now a raging hard on before he adjusted himself. Luckily, he was wearing black, so it wasn’t terribly difficult to conceal.

“You two better come out, or I’m coming in there whether you're decent or not!” Haibara called again.

“Well, thanks.” You nodded at Gojo. “I’ll keep what you said in mind, maybe I’d like to see it one day,” you winked, reaching for the closet door.

You pushed the door open, finding it hard to conceal the smile on your face. Your world was practically rocked inside the closet, but nothing changed on the outside. Everyone was still drinking and making conversation; it appeared another round of chugging went down in your absence, evident by more empty cans on the floor.

You grabbed another drink as you returned to your seat next to Utahime before realizing you hadn’t even finished drinking the one you had before going in the closet. You chugged that one down before opening the new one.

“You okay?” Utahime asked. A lazily smile was on her face, but she still managed to point daggers in Gojo’s direction. “I’ll beat his ass, I swear on everything I will if he hurt you.”

“I'm perfect, I promise,” you giggled, taking a sip of your drink. You couldn’t help but throw a wink in Gojo’s direction, which he returned.

Shoko’s turn was next, and her spin landed on Utahime. They both returned from the closet giggling with flushed expressions.

Everyone else went, and you had the final spin since you were the last to finish chugging your drink. By now you were comfortably buzzed, and gave the can a spin with a laugh as you waited to see who it would land on.

It landed on Geto.

“I’ll beat his ass too!” Utahime slurred, leaning into Shoko. She couldn’t help but burst into a fit of giggles as Shoko was howling from her statement.

“I promise, that won’t be necessary,” Geto chuckled as he rose to his feet. Similar to Gojo, he offered you his hand. “Care to join me?”

He had an ethereal kind of beauty about him. His hair flowed his inky locks that reached the middle of his back with small bangs in the front and another small portion in a top knot. Small gauges plugged his ears, and he must have been the same height as Gojo. He wore dark denim jeans, and a faded university shirt stretched across his chest.

Your eyes couldn’t help but trail to the veins on his arms and how prominent his Adam's apple was.

Taking his hand, you made the familiar journey to the closet.

Haibara was making some joke with Nanami and Mei Mei, the task of being the timekeeper at this point seemingly forgotten. You shrugged, and slipped inside the closet as Geto held the door open.

The alcohol coursing through your veins made your memory a little fuzzy to remember who went in before you, but you were grateful that they left the light on.

Leaning back against the boxes on the back wall, a lazy smile danced across your face. “Suguru.”

He cocked his head to the side as a light laugh escaped from his lips. He said your name, his voice wrapping around you like a warm blanket. “What is it?”

You beckoned him closer with a finger. It took all of two steps before he was directly in front of you. “Can I touch your hair?”

“Yes,” he answered. He wasn’t expecting that request, but happily obliged.

He gently grabbed your wrist and ducked his head to give you better access to his tresses. You threaded your fingers through his hair; it was as soft and luxurious as silk.

Your fingers grazed his scalp from the base of his neck, and he couldn’t help but close his eyes. Geto normally wasn’t a fan of people he didn’t know touching his hair, hell, he couldn’t say he really let anyone touch it, but he couldn’t reject you. Not with the polite way you asked.

His assessment of your features was no different than Gojo’s; your looks were nothing less than outstanding, but there was more beneath that. Your looks exuded softness, but your eyes brimmed with desire. Maybe it was his own buzz that made him want to please you in any way possible. Your touch was delicate, and he wanted to know if there was anything else soft about you.

Geto placed a hand on your hip, his thumb rubbing small circles into the exposed skin. “Enjoying yourself?” he asked.

“I am,” you giggled, “but…”

“Hmm?” he questioned. “But what?”

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way,” you gushed. “But I really want to kiss you.”

You didn’t need the liquid courage to admit that, but it definitely helped to speed up the process.

Geto lifted his head, and used his other hand to cup your chin, his thumb caressing the skin there. “I’m happy you said that, because I want to kiss you, too.” With that, he brought his lips to yours.

Geto’s lips felt like a warm caress against yours, his lavender scent wafting into your nostrils.

You closed your eyes as his lips moved leisurely against yours, movements unhurried as your lips massaged each other’s. The hand on your hip slowly trailed the side of your body as his hand caressed the skin of your stomach, igniting a flame in your core. He placed his other hand on the arch of your back, and you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your lips at his embrace.

His large hands were soft and moved delicately across the expanse of your skin. His fingers dipped into every curve, sending shivers down your spine. Every movement of his hands seemed calculated, and oozed a level of sensuality you couldn’t even begin to explain.

His lips parted as his tongue ran along your bottom lip. You more than willingly parted your lips, and his tongue slipped inside your mouth. The movement was seamless as the hand on your back pulled you closer toward him, keeping every part of your bodies connected. One of your hands was still threading through his silky hair while the other snaked beneath the material of his shirt to feel his defined torso. Much like his hands, the skin there was soft and smooth, but there was no denying the definition of muscle.

He hummed into your mouth at your touch as the hand on your stomach began to sluice down the expanse of your thigh. His thumb expertly moved in circles while his remaining fingers gripped the flesh delicately. He continued the motion, his hand traveling from the top of your thigh to just above your knee. The hand was equal parts warm and encompassing.

You moaned softly against his mouth as the palm of his hand moved to the underside of your thigh. He gave it a gentle squeeze before lifting it, wrapping it around his waist. His hand remained under your thigh to keep it propped up, the flame ignited in your core before now a fire burning out of control. He pulled his lips away from yours for a brief movement at the small gasp you let out at the motion, a gentle laugh escaping from him. “Everything alright?”

“Perfect,” you breathed out, moving your hands to wrap both of them around his neck. You pressed your lips back to his, this time tracing the shape of his lips with your tongue. You gently nipped at his bottom lip and started to explore his mouth once he parted his lips.

You could feel him harden with every stroke of your tongue, and the motion of your bucking hips seemed involuntary. The gentle grip he had on your thigh became a hard squeeze with every movement of your hips; the hand on your back trailing further down to cup your ass. He squeezed the flesh in tune with the movement of your hips, but was still careful not to dig his fingers too deep into your skin.

You felt yourself panting into his mouth as the kiss continued, growing sloppier by the moment. The controlled movements of your lips before were nearly nonexistent as you grasped for any part of him that you could get.

“Keep your leg up,” he murmured against your lips. He removed the grip from your thigh and moved from your body just so he had enough space to snake his hand between your thighs. You hitched your leg higher up on his waist and he buried his head in your neck.

Geto couldn’t help but laugh to himself seeing the faint marks Gojo left on your neck. His friend never held back when it came to self indulgence. He couldn’t blame him, though. He would have done the same if he were in the same position.

Just as lady luck had been on Gojo’s side on his spin landing on you, it was just Geto’s luck that no one else had a turn with you. If Gojo was going to be your first impression, he was more than happy to be the last.

“Mhm, keep your leg right there, angel.” His velvety voice wrapped around you like a bow on a present, and you knew you would fold to whatever he requested.

He brushed the pad of his thumb over your clothed clit, eliciting an instant moan from you. His lips latched onto your neck as he brushed over your clit again, loving the sounds of your moans. “That feels good, doesn’t it?” he chuckled softly against your neck, letting his lips mark another spot into your skin.

“ Suguru, ” you whined.

“Hmm?” His thumb began to massage your clit in slow circles, and you felt yourself clench around nothing. He barely touched you and your body already felt greedy for more. Your arms latched even tighter around his neck as if you were a koala hugging a tree branch. “You like the way that feels? Something tells me that you do.”

You moaned again as he continued to massage your clit, his lips still working against your neck. By now you weren’t worried about anyone hearing, you were more than certain the game had been long forgotten by everyone else in attendance. Your hands tugged gently at his hair, producing a small groan from Geto.

“Let’s see just how much you like this.” His voice was muffled against your neck. You didn’t have a chance to respond before two slender fingers were pushing the fabric of your underwear aside, running over your slick center. “Quite a bit, it seems,” he mumbled, letting his fingers run over your heat again.

Geto could feel himself growing harder just knowing how wet you were; just imagining how you would feel enveloping his fingers, inviting him in. Perhaps he wasn’t very different from Gojo at all when it came to self indulgence. He kept his thumb firmly pressed against your clit as he slowly pushed his fingers inside of you.

You welcomed his fingers, clenching around them as you struggled to keep your leg in its lifted position. He let out a groan of satisfaction as he slowly plumped the digits in and out of you, taking his time to reach that spongy spot with each plunge of his fingers.

“Hey! Who’s keeping time!” Gojo’s voice sounded loudly beyond the closet door. “I’m sure it’s been more than seven minutes!”

“Should we– Ah! ” Geto’s fingers stayed plunged inside of you as he kept his fingers curled against your g-spot.

Erection pressed firmly against your grounded thigh, he paid Gojo’s voice no mind as his thumb pressed harder against your clit. “Just focus on me, angel. They’re fine out there.”

His voice was dizzying as his fingers worked on the continuous ministrations of stimulating your clit and g-spot. Your breaths were coming out in harsh pants and your thigh was aching, but you were determined to keep it upright as you felt yourself coming closer to orgasm.

“You’re so close,” he murmured. “You’re going to come for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, ye–”

“Don’t tell me you’re all just going to ignore me.” Geto’s fingers moved quicker. “Fine. I’m telling them to get the fuck out.”

One final motion, and you drenched his fingers, the excess dripping down your thighs and soaking the crotch of your underwear.

You barely had a moment to catch your breath before the closet door swung open. You hastily put your leg down while Geto made no movement.

“Satoru.” His voice was light, almost playful. His fingers were still inside of you, hand now sandwiched between your thighs. He pulled them out slowly before removing his head from the crook of your neck, turning it to face Gojo. “Is something wrong?”

“Hm, I don’t know,” Gojo groaned. “Maybe the fact that the game is called seven minutes in heaven and you guys have been in here for hours. ”

“I see.” He whipped his head back around and removed his other hand from the grip it had on your ass as he took a step back. “Didn’t mean to break any rules, of course. We’ll be out in a moment.”

Gojo closed the closet door with a huff, and you released a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding.

“Was he… upset?” He wouldn’t have a reason to be, would he? This was just a silly little party game after all.

A small smile crept onto Geto’s face. “Not at all.” The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Don’t you worry about a thing, angel. He’s perfectly fine.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, focus now shifted to your still trembling legs. You straightened your skirt and gave Geto a sheepish smile. “That was… fun. Thanks.”

“Thank you. ” A small smirk danced over his lips as he adjusted him, striding over to the door. He opened it, gesturing for you to step out first.

Gojo was already sitting back down, poking fun at a now very drunk Shoko. Utahime was trying to tell, or rather scold him about something, but she was just as trashed, none of her words the least bit intelligible.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you rejoined them, going for another drink yourself. You wondered how long you were actually in the closet with Geto, but paid it no mind as you enjoyed the rest of the night.

A few hours later, Haibara, Nanami, Mei Mei, Gojo, and Geto started making their way out. Shoko and Utahime were already fast asleep on the couch, and you decided to sleep over. They would probably need to be nursed back to health in the morning.

“Does anybody need help calling an Uber or anything?” you asked.

“Already called one for Yu and I,” Nanami answered. “Should be here in a few minutes.”

“My brother is going to pick me up,” Mei Mei responded.

You nodded at both of them and looked toward Geto and Gojo.

“We don’t live too far, we’re good to walk home,” Geto answered, seemingly for himself and Gojo.

Nanami, Haibara, and Mei Mei all got into their respective rides, leaving the tall pair of friends left.

You flashed them both a smile as you walked them to the door. “It was great meeting both of you.” A part of you felt like you should have been swimming in some kind of guilt, but you were really swelling with pride. They were both too attractive for their own good, and surely they knew that. “I hope we get to see each other again, sometime.”

“I’m sure we will,” Gojo assured, a sly smile playing on his lips.

“Good night, angel.”

They made their way out the door, and you locked it behind them.

Gojo shoved his hands in his pockets as he and Geto began the short walk back to their apartment. Only lamp posts and the occasional passing car provided any illumination.

“I’m mad.”

“Oh?” Geto questioned.

“Shoko hid a hot friend from us.”

Light laughter escaped from Geto’s lips. “That, she did.”

Gojo stopped his pace, turning to look at Geto. “So what did you guys do?”

Geto laced his fingers, lazily placing them behind his head as he stopped as well to look at Gojo. “I could ask the same, but I already know you went all Dracula on her neck.”

Gojo scoffed. “Well unlike someone, I was adhering to the time limit.”

“Not my fault no one wanted to keep time anymore when it was her turn,” Geto shrugged in response. “I was just making her feel good, that’s all.”

A white eyebrow cocked. “Did you make her come?”

Another shrug from Geto. “I had the time to, why wouldn’t I?”

“ What? ” A pout formed on Gojo’s lips. “That’s not even fair!”

Geto unlaced his fingers from his head and waved the two fingers that were inside of you in front of Gojo’s face. “If you get close enough, maybe you can still smell her.” He wiggled his fingers again. “You can even lick them, if you want.”

Blue eyes turned into icy slits. “What am I, a dog? ” He took a step closer and smelled the offered fingers anyway. “And angel? What the fuck was that all about?”

“Cute lil’ nickname.” He shrugged again. “Just seemed fitting at the moment.”

Gojo groaned and threw his head back. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“We’re literally never thinking the same thing,” Geto deadpanned.

Blue eyes threatened to get stuck in the back of Gojo’s skull from how hard he rolled them. “Whatever. I say we go for it.”

“Hmm.” Geto nodded thoughtfully. “I guess this is a rare occurrence where we are sharing a brain cell.” He tapped his chin. “Think she’d want to?”

Gojo threw his arms around his best friend’s shoulder. “Oh, come on. It’s us. Not a chance the answer is no.”

ill upload ch 2 and 3 later lmao

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jpbpxma · 2 days

Text

pour some sugar on in me;

content warnings/tags: very nsfw, contains smut, breeding kink, pre/no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, age gap (as you want it).

It originally started off as a scare. You both got drunk after a New Year's party and ended up having a passionate night of sex- without protection, leading you to think you've gotten pregnant. Although it's been a year and a half since you got married, it had been a mutual agreement that kids were not in your future plans; Joel, thinking he might be too old for it and you, just not wanting that type of burden/responsibility in your life. However, when you found out you were not, in fact, pregnant, Joel found himself oddly disappointed and told you about it. "I dunno, it just felt nice to think of having a little one running around, being all cute 'n all," he had said. Surprising yourself, you agreed with him. So you decided to officially to start trying. And now, he couldn't get enough.

He's never been able to have sex with you raw like this before so every chance he could get, he found himself getting worked up and ended up taking you right then and there, no matter where you were or what time is was. Whether it's right when you woke up in the morning, when you were in the shower, when you were in the car, in the kitchen, and even a few times when you were in public. Not that you were complaining, you were enjoying it as much as Joel was. You loved the feeling of intimacy and you were constantly in a state of post-orgasm bliss.

"Hey, what you up to? " You hear Joel say from behind you, shuffling closer to put his arms around your shoulders and rest his chin on your head. "Finishing this dreadful assignment, why? " You question him, raising an eyebrow. "No reason, you're just looking really sexy right now," he hums as he places a kiss on the top of your head. "Joel, I'm literally in an oversized sweater and pajamas," you deadpan, even though you felt butterflies at his words. Ignoring you, he massages your shoulders under your sweater, his touch as electrifying to you as it was the first time. When you involuntarily let out a soft moan at a particularly sensitive spot, he reaches over to close your laptop and spins your chair around.

"Okay, that's it. You're coming with me," he announces. Before you realize what's happening, he has you in his arms, carrying you over his shoulder to your bedroom. He smacks your ass hard, making you yelp, before throwing you down on the bed. "You're crazy," you laugh out. "Uh yeah, crazy for you, baby," he counters, clearly proud of his comeback. God, he was such a dad already. He chuckles when you roll your eyes, taking his shirt and shorts off in the process. Now that you were in bed and after seeing those delicious arms, thighs, just everything of his on display, you were definitely getting in the mood too.

You run your fingers up his soft tummy, getting up to kiss along the little hairs that lead down his happy trail, smirking when you feel him let out a shaky breath. You pull down his boxers, his already stiff cock springing free, hitting his stomach. Licking your lips, you get closer to take him in your mouth when he pulls you back by the hair to meet his eyes. "Maybe another time, baby girl, right now I need to be inside you," he says impatiently, pushing you back into the bed before taking your pajamas and panties off.

Climbing on top of you, he cages you in his arms, kissing you fervently. You kiss back with the same intensity, your hands on either side of his face to hold him in place. He pulls away from the kiss, pressing one more peck to your lips before lifting himself up to slide between your spread legs. You can feel every ridge and vein of his length as he pushes into you- you could never get used to how much more pleasurable it felt uninhibited by a condom. "Oh my-" he grunts in a low voice, you know it feels worlds better for him too, "Fuck, you feel so good, baby." You squeeze around him at the compliment, biting your lip to muffle your moans.

"Joel, please, move already," you whine desperately. He takes your ankle and hooks your leg over his shoulder, shifting closer and pushing in to bottom out completely. You watch, enraptured, as he pulls out to the tip, and slams back into you. You cry out, gripping the bedsheets tightly as he smirks, pleased with your reaction. He sets a fast pace right off the bat, hips working into overdrive as he fucks you the way he knew both of you liked.

The only sounds resonating through the room were the sounds of skin slapping and the moans and groans you were both letting out. At this angle, he connects with your clit with each thrust. You wiggle your hips just a little and he hits it square on and that's when you really scream. "Oh fuck, you like it that much? " Joel asks earnestly. The corner of his mouth lifts smugly when you nod frantically, slowing down a bit to make his thrusts hit your sweet spot more accurately.

You're beside yourself with pleasure, he knew exactly how to get you to your peak and in the most ecstasy-filled way possible. He could tell you were close by the sounds you were making, lowering himself down, still slamming just as hard into you. He messily kisses your neck, your jaw, then moves up to nibble on your earlobe, whispering, "Want me to fill you to the brim with my cum and then fuck it all back into you again? Want to get pregnant with my children? Be my good little baby maker, hm? You'd like that, wouldn't you? "

His words combined with his thrusting send you careening over the edge and you convulse without warning, orgasm washing over you as you grip his shoulders for support. You clench around him involuntarily and he's so caught off guard by your sudden orgasm that he's sent over the edge into his, too. You feel his cum, hot inside you, pumping into you with every thrust. Joel is still deep inside of you as he finishes, his hands caressing all up and down your body.

"Well shit, we're really good at this, aren't we? " You nod, still out of breath and voice lost from all the screaming. He snorts at your inability to reply verbally but hums and bites along your neck as he nestles himself deeper into you and gathers you in his arms. "My beautiful girl, I don't think we're going to have any problem having kids." You couldn't help but smile. You didn't think you are, either.

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