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loliwrites · 5 months

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The One You Need | four

🎶 I spent most my life thinkin’ love was out of reach, so maybe just this once, you could be the one I need, if you let me be the one you need🎶

pairing: neighbor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: when you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at an arm’s length, your neighbor Joel finds his way into your life. warnings/tags: au, neighbor joel, age gap [reader is late 20s/early 30s, Joel is late 40s], hyper-independent reader, unannounced visitors, actual daddy issues, would-be suitor being forceful, perceived b&e, handgun [not used], SMUT, slight resistance kink, mild choking, fingering, oral [f receiving], slight degradation [one usage of whore] unprotected p in v sex, praise kink, aftercare, terms of endearment [sweetheart], THEY SHARE A BED, female reader, no physical description, protective!joel, soft!joel, dare i say ei!joel, no use of y/n. word count: 8.0k joel miller masterlist | part three a/n: we're doing the thing, y'all!

This was new for Joel. When you’d dodged him for nearly a month after he’d put your bed together, he just figured that was the action of a new neighbor from the west coast. He never figured you’d waltz your way back in with your faulty refrigerator. But this wasn’t that. This was post-sex when you all but fled his home. And for having told him one night stands weren’t your style, he thought you were doing a mighty fine job of making them your style.

It had been three days since that night and he hadn’t heard a peep. Not a check in, drive by, or walk through. It was as if your presence in the neighborhood had been a figment of his imagination. The only reason he knew it was real was because he was missing one of his shirts – the one you’d left in. And for three days hadn’t even done as much as slingshot it back to him or send by way of carrier pigeon. The amount of times in the past three days he thought he’d walk over and ask for, or demand, an explanation surpassed the amount of digits on his hands. But every time he talked himself out of it, telling himself all you needed was time.

But time only brought you one thing. A boy. In some automatic, foreign car. He rolled up the night of that third day and stepped out in a well-pressed black suit. Joel wasn’t spying, no… he just happened to mosey out to the porch and saw it all happening. He even witnessed you leave your house in a long red dress. Saw you descend the porch with this new boy, how he opened up the passenger door for you, and how you ducked into it. As that foreign car drove away, Joel turned and punched the post by his porch steps. The post was left unaffected. Joel’s hand, however, throbbed for the next three hours.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Staying out of Joel’s space had been intentional but the date had not been. This guy; he was a friend of a friend of a third cousin and he popped up out of nowhere. You hadn’t even really wanted to go out at all, let alone on some random date. But when you were shown a picture of the guy, he was… cute. He looked like the type of guy you normally let ruin your life, so ultimately you agreed. You hoped and prayed that Joel didn’t see you leave with this guy. And you spent the rest of the evening hoping and praying Joel would forgive you if he had. This wasn’t how you wanted it to go. The plan wasn’t to bed your neighbor and then leave him on the curb like trash. The plan wasn’t even to sleep with him, but given that you had, the rules to the game had changed so quickly.

And Chad… Brad… whatever the hell his name was, he was just… what you expected he’d be. He was attractive and he knew it, but he had nothing on Joel and he had no idea. He had blonde hair cut into a neat and tidy style but it had no story. Joel’s unkempt graying curls told you of his age and the unwillingness to burden his life with things as menial as primping himself. This guy had bright blue eyes, but they didn’t leave you searching their depths for the meaning of life like Joel’s had. Clean-shaven, baby-faced, uncalloused hands… There were any number of things that he was that Joel wasn’t, and staying present in the moment with him proved to be a challenge when you hadn’t even processed everything about Joel yet.

When the date finally ended, and you were escorted home, you peeked over at Joel’s house, wondering if you’d see him out on his porch, strumming his guitar. You hoped not. Please, on everything that is holy, don’t let him be out there. And when you couldn’t quite tell if he was or not, you decided to count your lucky stars and work with the assumption that benefited you most.

Chad… Brad… walked you up to your door and stood eerily close to you while your back was to him, unlocking it. Heat radiated off of him, and unlike the heat that came from Joel, you didn’t quite like how this one felt against you. Door unlocked but foregoing opening it just yet, you pivoted in a tight circle so as to not brush up against him as you faced him.

“I had a good time tonight, thank you,” you murmured, staring at his face to get a read on if he was going to lean in for a kiss you were going to have to dodge.

“Y’know, I didn’t get to see your place when I first got here,” he said as if that were a totally normal thing for him to have done. “Maybe you can give me a tour,” he reached around you and went for the handle.

You pushed against his arm with your hip before he could get his thumb on the latch, “maybe another time.”

“You’re gonna cut the night short?” he smirked and closed the practically imperceptible gap that was between you anyway.

Trying to back up, but running out of room as your back hit the door, “yeah, I’ve got an early morning.”

“What I want won’t take very long,” he leaned his hips forward, pressing them up against yours where it was oh so very clear he was sporting a semi. “C’mon, I bought you a fancy dinner, the least you could do is put out,” he still reached around you and pressed on the latch, nudging open your front door.

“Hey bud,”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Panic. Or was it relief? And managed to escape from Brad’s (or was it Chad?) hips, tugging your door shut again as you side-stepped away. He turned around and found Joel, climbing the porch steps coolly.

“I think you should leave,” Joel said, resting his hands on his hips. He even smiled at his suggestion.

“Who are you?” Your date asked and looked back in your direction as if he’d be able to grab you again, but you’d already moved to the side.

Joel flicked his eyes at you as if inspecting to see if any hurt had been done, then looked back at the would-be suitor. “Doesn’t matter, I think it’s time you got outta here,”

“Dude, she was just inviting me in,”

“Dude, no she wasn’t. I don’t wanna have to call the cops, just get goin’,”

Your date chuckled incredulously. He turned to you with what looked like mild fury in his eyes, “your pussy’s not worth all this.”

You nodded in agreement, “it definitely is not.”

Joel waited until he was gone – watched him all the way to his car, and until it took off down the street, before he looked back at you. You’d already made it back to your front door and were backing into it, leaning against the frame.

“Thanks,”

He nodded once and turned. Then over his shoulder, “your pussy is worth it.”

You laughed and shook your head, “thanks!”

Back, safe and sound in your house, you locked the front door right away and carried on through the rooms, first into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, then back toward your bedroom. There was a brief thought about how Joel must’ve been outside when you’d arrived back home, and now there were new lucky stars to thank. But that thought was pushed aside when you glanced into the den as you passed it and it made your heart stop. It was the only room left to be unpacked. You’d eventually use it as an office, but right now it was just a handful of cardboard boxes and pictures that hadn’t been hung yet. But the mess wasn’t what gave you pause. It was that it was the room with your back door, and that door was currently wide open.

You ran back through the house, set your glass of water on something, and bolted back through the front door. “Joel! Joel!”

He was gathering his things from the porch, getting ready to go inside when he’d heard your panicked calls and immediately ran off his porch and toward you, meeting in the middle of the street.

“There’s– my door– open–” you took a deep breath just to fill your lungs with substantial air. “I think someone broke in,”

In the same instant, Joel reached behind his back and pulled a handgun out of his waistband. He side-stepped you and went toward your house, knowing you’d be right behind him.

“You had that on you the whole time?!” He didn’t answer. Just kept laser focus on your house. “Were you gonna shoot him?”

“Maybe,”

“Joel!”

Finally, he turned toward you, and even in the darkness you could tell the glare he shot you was something icy. “‘M’gonna need you to be real quiet when we go through your house, okay?” He waited for you to nod, obediently. “Stay right behind me. Hand in my pocket or finger in my belt loop, got it?”

You nodded again, and when he turned around you tucked your fingertips into the back pocket of his jeans. Even as he began to walk and approach your home, you stuck close, feet falling in rhythm with his to practically meld yourself to his body. He held the handgun poised in front of him in both hands, only lowering one to push your door open. With a clear line of vision inside, he paused and listened before carrying on inside. All of his movements, searching and clearing each room, were deliberate and methodical. He took his time. Reaching around your back to hold you close to him when he needed to turn or pivot, making sure you remained fully behind him at all times.

Without searching every room, he made his way back to your bedroom. No one was standing there, or hiding under the bed, and with the closet being the only other place to hide in the room, it was one of the easier one’s to search. The closet, he soon came to learn, wasn’t a viable hiding place as it was still only partially unpacked, stacks of luggage and boxes obscuring the floor. He shut your bedroom door and lifted your hand out of his pocket.

“I’m gonna search the rest of the house. Stay here and lock the door,”

“Joel, what if–”

He held up his hand and shook his head, “don’t worry about it. Lock the door. Don’t open it until I get back.”

That was it before he went back out. You ran up and locked it behind him, then quickly backed away, to your bed, nervous as all hell, and fighting every urge your body had to break out in a sob. It seemed to take forever. His absence made the worry inside you grow. If only he’d just come back. You’d say or do whatever he wanted to make things better again. To not have him shooting daggers your way. To just live as harmoniously as you needed to, to not make the neighborhood unbearable. You’d become a hermit and never see another man in all your life if that’s what it took. Not that that didn’t seem like a great option at this point.

Three gentle knocks on your door, “it’s me. You can open up,”

You ran to it and turned the knob, the lock clicked back on itself, and you came face to face with Joel once again, finding him completely unharmed. He tucked the handgun back into his waistband, “we had some strong winds earlier. Might’ve blown the back door open. Did you have it locked?”

Thinking back, you couldn’t be sure. You’d been in and out of it so frequently, throwing things in the trash that the likelihood of it having been left unsecure was relatively high. Shrugging, you looked up at him with timid eyes, hoping to find a little bit of comfort there. But they were still cold, thwarting off any advance you might be making for warmth.

“Well, the latch is busted now so you’ll have to get someone in here to fix it,”

“You can’t fix it?”

He tilted his head to the side. After what you’d put him through in the last few days, he was surprised you even asked that at all. You were the one who apparently didn’t want him around. That is, until you needed him for something. “You ignore me for three days after we sleep together and are only talking to me because you need me to do you a favor,”

“Joel,”

“I’m not some fuckin’ toy you get to play with whenever it’s convenient for you,”

“You scare me!”

“Why?!”

The argument had gotten loud and you hadn’t wanted it to. That was too much like home. You just wanted peace and quiet. But even if your surroundings could be, your brain never was. And it hadn’t been for the last three days. It had been loud and persistent. “Because what if this keeps going?! Whatever this is, it keeps going. We keep fucking. And you keep fixing things. And suddenly we’re staying the night at each other’s places sporadically. And then I’m meeting your daughter. And your brother. And you’re learning about all my fucked up stuff. And we keep doing this thing for however long. And then we give it a label. And we’re a couple. And it just keeps going.”

Having grown baffled at the road your brain had traveled down, Joel furrowed his eyebrows and studied you. He folded his arms over his chest, and only when you’d stopped talking did he offer any response, “so?”

All that and a one word answer? You could’ve slapped him silly. “What if we never break up?”

He laughed and rolled his eyes, “sweetheart, I don’t think that’d be an issue. You seem difficult,”

You shoved your hands against his chest as he continued to laugh. “I mean it! And then I’m like… dependent,” you nearly gagged at the word, “on you like some sad, servant housewife that’s just waiting in her window for her husband to get home so she can fix his meals and wash his clothes.”

He let out a breath that almost sounded like another laugh, “you’re fuckin’ insane, you know that?” Swinging at his chest again, he caught your wrists this time and held them against him tightly. “First of all, a wife’s not a servant. Second, I wouldn’t want you to cook for me anyways. Campbell’s soup in a can for the past week! And lastly, if we never broke up – which I assure you we would because you’re nutty – then you’d be the person I get to come home to and fall into your arms, and relax with! And I’d take the trash out to the bins, and pick the flowers in the yard for you, and pull your fuckin’ hair out of the shower drain when it clogs. And yeah, you might do my laundry every now and again, but we’d do it because we’d love each other. Your shit would be my shit, and there’s nothin’ I wouldn’t do for you.”

You stood, mouth agape, not blinking, staring up at Joel. He let go of your wrists and all but pushed them away, but you were back on him in a second. Hands replaced on his chest, this time with the utmost care, fingers curling into the fabric of his cotton t-shirt.

“I’m not trying to take your independence away. Not tryin’ to trap you. Hell, we don’t have to call this anything, just don’t ignore me.” He only stared, as if allowing himself to live in the feeling of your hands on him, pressing down on his chest but really into his soul. “If you want a man and not a boy, you got one, but it requires you to be a woman and not some scared, little girl.”

“I can be,” you assured, eyes dropping down to where your hands lay on his chest. Then once looking back into his eyes, your hands drifted further south, blazing a trail over the fabric of his shirt until you felt the rough denim of his jeans.

“Y’know,” he smirked almost devilishly, as if daring you to continue on, “you’re just a dog with a loud bark, but you got no bite.”

“Did you just call me a dog?” You grinned back, playfully squinting your eyes.

“No bite at all. You just fold and turn over on your back like a pup,”

“I got bite,”

Joel’s eyebrow quirked but his eyes didn’t waver from yours. Not even when you lowered a hand to his crotch and gave it a squeeze. He gave you no reaction, just tilted his head to the side as if he was waiting for you to amuse him.

And it got your mind spinning. What did bite look like? What did he think that meant? That you’d get on your knees and give him the sloppiest head this side of the Mississippi? Because to you, bite looked like everything you’d ever been to him. It looked like stubbornness or as he liked to call it brattiness. Last time, he’d fucked it out of you. A tried and true method. But if he wanted ‘bite’, he’d get it. Your way, on your terms.

So you swiftly undid his jeans, making quick work of the button and zipper as if they were only the slightest of inconveniences, and slipped your hand into his pants, giving him another generous and firm squeeze. By the looks of it, he was the one that nearly folded. But something else kept him preoccupied. It was then you remembered the handgun he’d tucked so haphazardly in his jeans. He reached around his back for it as you’d created a less secure space for it. And though it gave you pause as he pulled it out and glanced down at it to ensure the safety was on, it didn’t deter you completely from continuing. You removed your hand from his pants and pushed against his chest, sending you both in opposite directions. With the growing distance as you rounded to the side of your bed and a premature feeling that you’d somehow won, a smile passed over your lips. It was there and gone in a matter of milliseconds. No sooner than you’d felt it stretch across your face, Joel had closed the gap between you, lifted his free hand to your throat and with a firm hold on it, pushed you backwards. It wasn’t until you’d run out of real estate, pressed up against your closet door, that he stood over you with an almost playful glare like a cat who’d caught a mouse to toy with. He bent over and set the handgun down on the bedside table, then returned his complete focus to you. Fingers applied the softest of extra pressure to the sides of your neck and catching your gentle nod, he pressed them into a tighter squeeze.

Annoyance emanated from you – for you – that you liked it so much. That you enjoyed him having control over you, and effectively taking yours away. You hated that you wanted to give him control, when in every other aspect of life, you clung to it like a life raft in the ocean. Maybe thinking that that was all you had, there was no other fight or bite left, Joel’s fingers loosened from around your neck. And as though you hadn’t quite learned the lesson yet, thought you’d gained back some of the control, grunted and pushed on his chest again with all your might. It only sent him backward one step, and he retaliated with a searing grip on your wrist with one hand, and the return of his other hand to your neck for a cautious squeeze as his hips lowered to yours, effectively pinning you motionless.

“That was cute,”

You wriggled beneath him, trying to break free, but quickly found it pointless. His weight kept you where he wanted you and his hand on your neck was the decision-maker now. You let out a sigh of surrender, body fully collapsing and giving up beneath him.

Joel felt the fight leave your body and released your neck and wrist at the same time. With his hips still buried into yours, and now absently rubbing against you, he ducked his head to the side and planted a series of soft kisses to your neck where his fingers had just been.

“You just wanna be a good girl, don’tcha?” He could feel your pulse quicken against his lips on your neck. The only response he got came in the form of a needy whine and he set his hands on the closet door at either side of your head. “You don’t want to have to bite, huh?” He was almost goading you now, grinding his growing length against your waist. “Just looking for a bigger, badder dog to lead the way for you,”

You weren’t sure why, because except for in a sexual sense, it wasn’t necessarily true, but you nodded anyway. He could have control here. You liked not having it here if it meant you got to retain it in other aspects of life. At your acceptance, he laid a kiss on you. As good of a kiss as he’d ever given you; made sweeter by that fact that you’d made sure you’d gone without it for the last few days. Just as a headrush began, he pulled away, and it had you leaning forward as much as you could to try and get his lips back.

“I want you to get undressed and lay down on your back for me.” He thought you’d get going, but he was confronted with a pout instead. Smacking the side of your hip, “get going or I’ll put those lips to better use,”

“Is that a threat?” You smirked, reaching behind your back for the zipper on your dress.

“‘S’a promise,”

You couldn’t even really relish and appreciate his promise as at this point you remembered the trial in gymnastics it took to zip up your dress in the first place. It started far too low on your back and ended far too high to be accessible for a single human to do on their own, and at one point, you’d seriously considered just letting your date into your house without dinner just so you could stay naked and save the trouble. In hindsight – small blessings that you’d managed to get it zipped up.

“Help,” you murmured to Joel and spun around in the same moment, pressing your ass back against his crotch. Setting your hands on the closet door for more leverage to rut against him, you pressed harder, feeling the form of his growing length against your backside.

Joel didn’t waste too much time in helping you, opting to tug the zipper down in one quick fell swoop instead of taking his time with it. But as soon as your back was exposed to him, he snaked his arms around your torso and pressed one large, strong palm over your belly while the other found your clit. He cupped your sex and gently bit down on the back of your shoulder. Then as if he remembered what he’d previously been doing, he removed his hands from you and tapped your ass.

“G’on, lay down,”

You obeyed him and delicately let your dress fall from your shoulders and to the floor. He was pleased to see you already without a bra, and by the time you turned and laid back on your bed, Joel was at the latter part of pulling his t-shirt over his head and throwing it to the floor with your dress. He descended upon you as you’d moved up to rest your head on the pillows. But that wasn’t in his plans yet. He grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you down along the duvet until your legs hung over the end of the bed.

“Joel,” you gasped, finding yourself immediately repositioned. He hadn’t even bothered with a kiss to your lips or a check in, but opted for migrating straight to your breasts.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he kneaded your soft flesh in his hands and knelt to the floor at the end of your bed.

You heard his knees click on the way down, and truly wanted to say something about it this time – maybe that it was time for a couple knee replacements – but found yourself cut off again when he gripped onto the thin line of your g-string and began to pull it away from your center. “Joel, wait…”

And to his credit, being face to face with your wet slit and already sporting a hard on, his fingers stilled immediately. Quit their pursuit of ridding you from the underwear that was barely there anyway, and opted for bending in to kiss the inside of your thigh.

“I don’t think…” your voice trailed off as he sucked on your inner thigh, surely leaving a mark. Then steadfastly, kissed the skin again.

“I like you like this,” he murmured against your thigh before moving an inch higher and kissing that fresh skin. “Soft,”

A whimper died in your throat, only barely emitting soundwaves into the space between you. But your gaze remained locked on him for any sudden movements.

“I got you, you know that, right?” He kissed your opposite thigh when you nodded. “You can be soft, and small; I got you,” he smiled when you nodded again. “Can I take this off?” his fingers toyed with your g-string again, “can I taste you? And give you a couple brain-melting orgasms,”

“Where’s that horn,” you giggled and looked around the room as if searching for it, finding it bought you some time and distance from having to look directly in his soul-piercing eyes. But he grazed his teeth against your inner thigh again like a horse chomping at the bit, and that got you locked on him again. “You can try. A little bit,”

His hands got back to immediate work and carefully slid the miniscule fabric past the curve of your ass, down from your core, trying not to get lost in the way a bit of your arousal connected you to the fabric for a second longer until he pulled it further away, down your thighs, past your calves, and finally, off completely. He lifted your legs, set them atop his shoulders, positioning himself right in the center of where he yearned to be, and kissed your inner thigh again, this time higher than he’d previously been. His hands found their way to your hips, fingers digging into the flesh as he worked you into a more comfortable state before lips would meet your slit.

Nerves bubbling up to the surface, realizing you’d have a helluva time trying to dissociate from this, you reached down and clawed at the back of one of his hands. He flicked his eyes up to you in time to adjust, releasing your hip and allowing you to take his hand in yours. He moaned against your skin as he moved higher, now to where your leg and hip met, and laced his fingers with yours. You squeezed his hand and he took it as approval for the next step. Of laying a wet kiss on your clit. Thighs briefly squeezed closer to his head, releasing just in time as he licked a broad stripe from your entrance up to your clit.

A high-pitched groan fell past your lips and he shook his head against you when his mouth made contact with your clit again. He hummed too, sounding beyond elated with his current position. A noise you hadn’t ever quite heard with such enthusiasm. As if everyone in the past had been doing it cursorily instead of out of sheer desire.

Joel flicked his tongue over your clit repeatedly, then lowered his mouth to your entrance and rimmed the tight opening. The feeling of you squirming beneath him was all he needed by way of encouragement. He guided your hand up to his head, not completely satisfied until you released his hand and grabbed hold of his hair. Only then did he move his hand up over your belly and pressing his palm flat against it to hold you still, while his other hand moved from your hip and hooked around your thigh.

“J-Joel… please,” you breathed out, lifting your head to look down at him. But his eyes were closed, getting lost in his ministrations that were unending. You let your head drop back to the bed, “oh my god, please.”

In the past, there had been a worry about the amount of time it took, or how long a boy would be willing to go to get you there. Now, you weren’t quite sure what time was. Or how much had passed. Maybe it had been only a few minutes, maybe it had been fifteen. But your eyes snapped open and made contact with your bedroom ceiling because Joel pressed his middle and ring fingers against your soaked entrance. “Joel,” you whimpered again.

For the first time since he’d begun, he pulled his mouth off you, though his eyes remained on his fingers for the time being, “I got you, girl. Bein’ such a good girl for me,” as he knew it would, your body reacted to his praise. Relaxed. And he slowly urged his fingers inside you, gaze now flicking upward to watch your expression. Jaw slack and eyes rolling back until they shut, he evenly pulled his fingers in and out of you. “Look at you, sweetheart. Like my fingers inside you?”

You nodded emphatically, choking out a sound with a throat that had run dry.

“This pussy’s so good,” he leaned back in and licked your entrance where it met his fingers and continued up to your clit, “tastes so fuckin’ good.”

Thighs closed around his head, muscles twitching and spasming on their own volition. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop,”

He smiled against you, softly sucking your clit into his mouth and rolling his tongue flat against it. The mewls it drew from your lips sounded like the sweetest song he’d ever heard. You didn’t need to tell him not to stop. He’d keep doing whatever it was that got that sound to come out of you.

Joel moaned against you and it sent a vibration up through you that was the last thing you really needed to get you to your first orgasm of the night. It had been on a nonstop incline since he’d started, and the release was just there at the edge. You were sure Joel could tell. His fingers moved more hastily, his mouth and tongue not ceasing for even a second. But then – your brain entered the picture. Took center stage. Reminded you that some man was in between your legs, his mouth performing pure magic… and though your orgasm still neared, your brain fought for distance.

Your hand had been nestled snugly in his hair, holding him against you, begging him to stay put. But now you were using it to push back on his head. Your release was there, centimeters away, and you desperately pressed against his head, trying to pry him off of you. “Joel, no, please. Stop,”

He pulled his mouth away, though his fingers remained pumping inside of you, and with a growl, he leaned forward and moved his free hand up to your neck, getting a soft grip on either side of it. “Come on, right here,” he curled his fingers inside you, “come all over my fingers.”

But you only whined and writhed beneath him, now frustrated that you’d pushed away his mouth – the very thing that had been getting you to your climax.

“Got you moanin’ like a whore with my mouth… Push me away…” He shook his hand with his fingers deep inside you, rocking the entire lower half of your body, “c’mon, give it to me.”

The hold he had on your neck tightened and without his mouth, that had been your undoing. You came with a scream, back arching off the bed, chest spasming. Joel removed his fingers from you before you’d ridden out the entirety of your climax, and slapped his hand down on your clit at the tail end of it. You whined a little louder when that sent rippling shock waves through your body. Chest heaving, your sex, already red and swollen, Joel still got up from his knees and leaned over your body for a kiss. You could still taste a hint of yourself on his tongue and it made you want to ravage him more.

“Want you to fuck me,” you begged against his lips, pushing his underwear down past his waist. At some point while he was on his knees, he’d pushed his jeans down and had been able to step out of them when he stood back up. However it happened, you didn’t care, as long as it got him inside of you sooner.

Joel smiled against your lips and tapped your hip as he stood back up and rid himself of his underwear. “Turn over,” he ordered as he stroked himself, smearing the precum that leaked from his tip down along the length of his shaft.

Instantaneous obedience rushed over you and you clumsily turned over to your stomach and got up on your hands and knees. Joel’s hand returned to your skin soon thereafter. Fingers splayed over your ass cheek, digging into the supple flesh. It was the gentlest of the actions you’d feel over the next few minutes. Just enough time to relish in the expanse of his hand before he was using his other hand to guide his length to you, sliding his member over your wetness and then finally pushing himself inside of you.

The air evacuated your lungs with the feeling of him sinking into you. Relentlessly. Until he’d worked himself balls deep, nestled tight in your core. A throbbing overtook the lower half of your body and you allowed yourself to collapse, chest and head now resting on the bed while your backside remained up for Joel to use. And that he did. The thrusts you remembered from the first time together had felt deep, and were, no doubt. But they paled in comparison to the feeling of this, of his length actually splitting you in half, like an axe to a piece of wood. You released a long, lingering cry that changed into a breathy moan when his thrusts picked up, nothing but the sounds of your shared labored breaths and skin slapping together.

“Shit,” Joel groaned, gripping onto your hips with a bone-crushing hold. His hips faltered for just a second.

If you hadn’t been paying such rapt attention to the feeling of each inch inside you, you likely wouldn’t have noticed the stutter of his movement for the slightest of seconds. But it was impossible to ignore how he felt inside you. A fullness you sure was indescribable – at least indescribable by any sense that would do it justice. And a heaviness that was all-encompassing. It seemed to seep into every cell, weighing you down in the most delicious of ways. On shaky arms that seemed unlikely to be able to bear any weight, you pressed up from the bed to return to your hands and knees.

But no sooner than you’d risen, a hand left your hip and migrated to the center of your upper back, pushing you back down until your chest was flush with the mattress again. “Stay like this,” his jaw dropped open when you squeezed around his shaft, and he very nearly doubled over. “Just like this,”

“Joel, I can’t–”

As though he was a mind reader, he slid his hand down your back and enveloped it around your hips; the pads of his fingers making contact with your clit again. Your body went soft for him again, malleable to whatever course of action was to come next.

“Yes. God yes,” you pleaded like God was in the room with you in the form of Joel.

“Feel fuckin’ incredible,” he moaned and offered a particularly hard thrust. One that had caught you off guard, and your knees slipped, sending your stomach down to the bed as well.

He managed to follow you down, keeping himself sheathed deep inside you, and with hand still curled around you, kept you lifted enough for his fingers to continue massaging your clit in small, quick circles. Now with only your ass left above the rest of your body, he straddled your legs and scooted himself up closer. His thrusts now deep but short, you let out a shriek and curled your fists in your sheets.

“Takin’ this cock like a champ,” he bared his teeth into his bottom lip with a thrust that had his tip pressing against the opening to your cervix. You whimpered again, which only made him smile. “Yeah, you like that? Tell me about it,”

“Love it,” you panted. Legs pressed together, feeling fuller than ever with his hands on your clit, coil in your stomach was winding up. Tighter and tighter, and you knew it was only a matter of moments before you’d snap. “Fuckin’ love your cock, Joel,”

Just expressing the sentiment made you throb, and you knew he felt it. Knew it when he replaced the circling of your clit with a couple quick taps to it which made your body jerk. He smiled again and reset his hands on your hips, using them for all the leverage he needed for what would end up being the last of what you’d be able to take.

“Joel,” you cried and unwound a hand from the sheets to reach back for his hand on your hip. You curled it around two of his fingers, “I’m gonna…”

“Yeah, you are. Gonna be a good girl and come all over this cock?” He groaned after your body responded to his praise, “let me have it, sweetheart.”

You felt his hips falter again and thought if you could just hold out for a while longer, you’d both hit the peak together. So you stiffened your body, and tried to stave off the snapping of the spring inside you. Tried to blur out the pleasure for sheer focus. But all that did was send a shot of discomfort through you which settled in your chest and your body purged it with an animalistic growl.

Joel pressed his hands to the bed on either side of you and rested himself against your back, cautious to not lay all of his weight on you. He bit into your neck, “don’t wait for me. Go on, I’ll be right behind you,” his jaw slackened when your muscles clenched around him, sucking him in deeper and milking his length.

“Promise?” you squeaked out, the beginning of your orgasm gearing up deep in your stomach.

He smiled against your neck and nodded, “yeah, I promise. C’mon, sweetheart.”

It didn’t take too much more coaxing than that. One more thrust and you unraveled beneath him. Body trembling involuntarily with an endless string of moans filling the room. He grunted behind you and pulled out before you’d even finished. Stroked himself just a couple times before his own muscles flexed and released, releasing his come over your lower back and ass. You turned your head to the side when the feeling of his come hitting you finished, and smiled breathlessly at the sight of him giving his length a couple more tugs. He let go of his member and let it rest along your ass, taking deep breaths to steady himself.

Joel leaned down, his cock sliding to your lower back. He nestled his nose against your cheek and kissed your jaw, “you’re a good girl, huh?”

You grinned, cheeks growing hotter, and lifted your hands up behind you to tangle them in his hair.

“Yeah, you are,” he pecked your cheek once more then pushed himself off you. “I’ll be back, lemme clean you up.” He only waited for you to nod before he was off.

Left alone in your room, you leaned up on your elbows and looked around. It was pretty sparse and impersonal, like the rest of your house still. Nothing like Joel’s. In his house, everything screamed him. It was lived in, worn. The things that were out of place had been so for so long that their lack of a place became their place. He’d spent years making it a home while you were still just in a house. You wondered what it would take for your house to become that. Time? Maybe a dog? Or worst case scenario – a man?

Joel re-entered your room, towel in hand, and crawled back on the bed to you. He gently wiped away his spend until your skin was clean again. “Couldn’t find a washcloth,”

After he threw the towel to the floor by your bed, you rolled over onto your back, “don’t have ‘em. Got these,” you lifted her hands and waved them about.

He scrunched his nose and you swatted at his chest as he laid down beside you. With a hand holding yours against his chest, he maneuvered his other arm around you, behind your neck and shoulders, and pulled you into him. You rest your head down on his collarbone and focused on your fingers, running them along his tanned skin leaving invisible doodles in their wake. If you could just stay here like this, in the post-sex afterglow, you could almost convince yourself that the closeness wasn’t freaking you out. It was a lot so quickly. A far cry from your status quo.

“Can you stay tonight,” you asked in the same moment Joel kissed the top of your head. And because he didn’t answer right away, you felt the need to justify yourself. “If it wasn’t the wind and someone did bre–”

“I’ll stay,” he shook you reassuringly, “‘cause you’re nicer to cuddle up against than my old pillows,”

You wrapped your arm around him tighter, “this doesn’t mean anything.”

“Of course not.” For just a moment, he let his fingertips dance over the skin at your bare hip, smiling to himself at the goosebumps that erupted across it. Then he tapped your hip, “you should go to the bathroom,”

Ah, yes. Your delicate pH balance. Apparently it was on Joel’s mind more than it was on yours. You willed yourself out of bed and carried on into the bathroom, whereupon looking at yourself in the mirror, it was impossible to ignore the seemingly permanent smile on your face. You tried to get rid of it; tried to turn your lips into a straight line, but it wouldn’t leave. It was there. Etched deep and sure. And you knew it had very little to do with the fact that you were in your own home, a thousand miles away from family drama, and very much to do with the man waiting for you in bed.

If you from two months ago could see you now, you were sure there wouldn’t have been the slightest chance of recognition. While to most, and maybe even to Joel, a change had scarcely happened, you saw the leaps and bounds of apparent progress. Two months ago, you’d closed on the house and had swore off boys altogether. Like a form of housekeeping, you swept those ideas into a dustpan and deposited them in the garbage. Boys were superfluous. Intimate relationships were superfluous. A couple lousy boyfriends had taught you that, but they hadn’t been horribly awful people. They’d just been boys. Perhaps the worst of it was that your father had taught you that. Taught you that the man who was supposed to love you unconditionally, couldn’t, or just flat out didn’t. Taught you that romantic relationships looked like prison sentences. That a man would never be able to evolve and understand his own emotional range, let alone yours. And worst of all, that despite being obviously unhappy with everything, that he’d never leave, never let you leave; and instead hold you hostage in a relationship that everyone could see had failed, but he refused to admit for the sake of his own delicate ego.

You grinned, thinking about how the only delicate thing about you was your pH balance.

“Y’alright?” Joel asked as you re-entered your bedroom.

You figured you’d looked pretty spaced out upon returning. Not entirely sure how you’d made it back there from the bathroom. Still, you pressed a smile and crawled back into bed, immediately curling up into his side. Back in only his underwear, his skin against yours gave off tremendous heat and for the first time (perhaps in life), you really found yourself hoping that Joel was all the things he said he was, and that it wasn’t just performative.

“What’s this?” He held out a lone bolt in his fingers.

You tilted your head back from where it rested against his chest, “where’d you get that?”

“Side table,”

“You’re snooping in my stuff?”

“Yeah,” he nodded and jiggled the bolt in his hand again. “Where’d this come from?”

You shrugged and lowered your head, rubbing your cheek against his bare chest to get comfortable again. “Found it when I was Swifferin’ beneath my oven,”

The bolt stopped moving in Joel’s fingers and you peeked back up to find him stunned. “‘S’truly amazing your house hasn’t exploded yet,”

“What?” you whined, “it works and it’s not like I smell gas. It was probably an extra part,”

“Since when do ovens come with parts you don’t need?”

“Joel,” you whined again and wrapped your arm around his belly, holding him close.

He leaned over and set the bolt back down on the side table. He’d fix that tomorrow. Along with your back door. And maybe give everything else in your house a once over to make sure you wouldn’t combust.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Sun rays filtered in between the slits in your blinds and you cursed yourself (yet again) for not having invested in black out curtains. One of these days you would and maybe then you’d get a restful night of sleep. With a groan and an aching in your hips, you turned onto your back and looked to the side where Joel was still asleep, his back to you. Generally, sharing a bed with someone resulted in you having the worst night of sleep known to man. It was as if your brain could never really settle knowing someone was beside you. And while you had slept some last night, you couldn’t wait for Joel to not be in your bed the following night.

After having slid out of bed, successful in not rousing him, you padded down the hallway to the kitchen and squinted out the front window where the neighborhood was slowly coming to life. A couple kids were riding their bikes in the street. Mr. Cole was hobbling down his driveway to pick up the newspaper. Your routine was coffee first and after a night like last, where your hips weren’t the only thing sore, but your thighs and core, too, coffee was supremely necessary.

The slowness of the act was almost meditative. You could turn off your brain. Grab the filter, scoop the coffee grounds, add the water, hit the button. At least on a normal day. What you didn’t know at that moment, but came to know halfway pouring the water, today was not to be a normal day. Not at all. Because a knock on your front door had you spilling some of the water down the side of the machine instead of within the well.

You turned, confused, and then were riled into action when the knock happened again, this time more insistent. Perhaps one day you’d learn to look through the window first, or install a door with a peephole, but on this day, you simply tugged the front door open and felt your heart drop into your stomach.

“Mom? Dad?”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller au #joel miller fluff #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #ppcu #ppcu fanfiction

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sunnys-out · 7 months

Text

Coming Back to Me | Kyra Cooney-Cross

A/N: based on this prompt list. Prompt 19: I still need you.

Angst w/happy ending (I couldn't do it to Kyra let's be real)

Warnings: Parental abuse, yelling, gaslighting

Word Count: 1325

You wouldn’t have known that something was off after we won against the Olympic gold medalist, Canada 4-0.

What had happened the night before? Nothing…Nothing was wrong…nothing was different in the eyes of the public.

Kyra still kept up with the appearances and held my hand and smiled at me when the fans were within eyeline and then immediately dropped both once we got to the locker room. It didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the team when we both refused to look at one another during team talks.

Kerr tried to talk to me, like a good captain should, but I waved her away sternly, saying “t’s fine, leave us alone”.

In all reality, it wasn’t fine. Kyra and I had a fight in the late hours before this important game.

My mother never liked Kyra, well she never liked anyone I had ever dated no matter how much they made me happy. Kyra came into my life and after 1 ½ years of dating I had proposed at the beginning of the year…that one increased the amount of vitriol my mother threw at Kyra whenever she would call me not caring if Kyra was within earshot.

My mother “cared” about my career and well controlled it ever since I was little. Every club team was intentional, every camp was important, and my identity became just the sport. Meeting Kyra and falling in love with her was something my mother didn’t want because that meant she was losing her grip on me.

I had previously been with Olympique Lyonnais for a time and that was something my mother hated. She constantly said that I was doing this all to make her unhappy even though she was doing what was best for me. The move to Arsenal, after some time away in France, was seen as a good move by everyone but it was my mother, who was the “happiest” at my decision…because I was back on track with what she wanted me to be.

I had gotten closer to Kyra at our first Australian camps together back in 2021. We even debuted together in the game against Denmark, grinning to each other as we both took the pitch. She was what I wanted and needed and the returning of myself came so quickly that I didn’t even recognize who I was but I loved it.

My mother caught wind of it as the fans did. While fans were filling my instagram with comments of congratulations or love for our new relationship…my mother was behind it all screaming that I didn’t care for my career and that Kyra was going to destroy everything.

I tried my hardest to hide all of that from Kyra for the longest time, and wanted to enjoy my time with her.

The way that she snuggled her face into my neck in pictures, how she was my biggest cheerleader when I failed on the pitch, the way that she attempted to make my favorite food and nearly burned our kitchen down, me carrying her on my back to the locker room because she was tired, our holidays together, the nights we spent together…she was everything to me.

It obviously didn’t last…Kyra was strong but she bore the brunt of it after our 1st year anniversary even though I tried my best to defend her. My mother didn’t care and blamed Kyra for every one of my failures, calling her a distraction, that her Australian call up was nothing in comparison to mine and her career would never reach that of mine.

Kyra, justifiably, had enough after my mother called me the night before the Canada game. She finally was able to get through to my cell phone after complete radio silence from me since the World Cup started. She had found out about the engagement and screamed for Kyra to get onto the phone.

After 40 minutes, Kyra looked at me almost angry, “ (y/n), I don’t know how much of this I can take…I really don’t” Before I knew it, we were fighting in our hotel room, she argued that I had to let go of my mother and I argued that my mother has done so much for me that Kyra wouldn’t have understood…I know that it was all manipulation on my mother’s part but when you’ve lived it your whole life it’s hard to actually come to terms with it.

It ended with Kyra leaving the room, saying “Maybe your mum was right…you don’t need me” and electing to go to Steph’s instead. I didn’t follow her…I should’ve but, like a coward, I only whispered to myself..

“I still need you though, Kyra”

______________________________________________________________

A hand on my shoulder took me out of my thoughts, with a fake smile on my face, I turned to see the individual in question.

“Hey Ian!” I gave the commentator in front of me a big hug.

“Amazin’ game out there. Hey I already spoke to Steph but might as well also try to rope in the future Missus, congratulations by the way. What I’m saying is we got to get Kyra to Arsenal, we get a great player and you get to have your future missus playing by your side. Told Steph I’ll call my people, just need you both to do the footwork.”

I nod the smile not fading from my face, “yeah I could do that, won’t fail you Ian”. He pats me on the back and leaves me in the tunnel.

The universe really is cruel. At any other time, this would have been the best news in my life but I had received an email, that morning, from my manager that OL was eyeing to have me back and Kyra was still not speaking to me.

______________________________________________________________

Kyra took her engagement ring from me when the World Cup was over and we both went our separate ways. She only gave me a kiss on the cheek and went back to Sweden. No one was happier than that than my mother whom I ignored the best I could as I spoke with management both at Arsenal and OL.

Kyra arrived to sign with Arsenal in September and she made it a point to see me before she did. I had just left the office with my transfer documents in hand when she grabbed me and yelled through a whisper.

“(y/n), I heard what you did, look I appreciate it but being on the same team is going to ruin what we have…your mum is going to explode once she finds out If I signed with Arsenal. I can’t go through that again I-” I stop her as I show her the papers.

“I’m leaving for Olympique Lyonnais, Kyra…I don’t care what my mum thinks. I advocated for this club to sign you because you’ll have a true heart for the team that I never could because of my mum…Lyon is where my love for the game lies…and I can’t lose you, Kyra…If it means playing apart like this then so be it because I still need you in my life Kyra and Im not letting my mum take that away from me…not again.”

She looked at me and her face softened as she pulled me into a gentle kiss and leaned her forehead on mine.

“I love you so much, (y/n)” and with that I hugged her tightly.

“I love you too…and Ian Wright definitely wont once they announce my transfer in a few hours but hey they got KCC” I joke as I give her another peck on the lips.

Kyra pushed my shoulder with a roll of her eyes, “yeah and you got to answer to Caitlin, and Steph about this too”.

Needless to say, I got some really angry texts from my friends later that evening and my mother probably…but eh who can know if you block the person on everything.

#arsenal wfc #auswnt x reader #kyra cooney cross #kyra cooney cross x reader #matildas #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 4 months

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Bayverse tmnt scolding their sons since they went a different direction or didn’t listen and didn’t follow with the orders their dad gave out, and nearly got spotted by humans while the eldest was trying to keep the middle from mucking around and go back on track?

I feel like they will be grounded after coming back to the lair and get sent to their rooms and have their mask taken off them. :D

Sons of Leonardo (Fluff/Crack-ish)

Bayverse!Leonardo x reader

A/N: I love this idea! But I decided to focus on one group of children instead of all four. I went with you and Leo’s kids (aka, my OCS), because that was the first that came to my head😂💙

Buuuuut! If you want me to do more of these with the others, I would happily do so💚

-------------

You and Leo are at least in your 40’s.

Warnings: Spelling, you and Leo’s sons being silly teenagers💙

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Romeo did not like it one bit. Actually, he had been very much against it from the start, wondering how the hell Marcello had managed to get their father to agree to let them go watch the basketball game. He had probably used that eye trick uncle Michelangelo had taught him. Heck, even Gerardo knew how to make those eyes. But of course, their father wouldn’t just let Marcello and Gerardo go on their own. No, no. Romeo had to come along and make sure that his brothers didn’t do anything stupid, or worse, getting noticed by humans.

And that was how Romeo found himself stuck inside the jumbotron for hours, stuck watching a basketball game he didn’t actually want to see. If this was the “responsibility of the oldest” that his father kept talking about, he could easily understand how he could be so uptight sometimes. And as Romeo pulled 12 year old Gerardo back from the edge, he wished his father would have been more uptight that day.

As soon as the game ended, Romeo was ready to go. They had promised not just their father, but their mother as well, that they would return home as soon as the game had finished. So when Romeo had his brothers returned to the roof once more, the last thing he expected was 15 year old Marcello heading the opposite direction, leaning over the edge of the building in order to get a better look of the people walking out onto the street.

“Marcello! No! Dad told us to get home as soon as the game finished!”, Romeo commanded, pointing in the direction they had to go - away from downtown.

“Calm down, junior, I’m just watching”, Marcello said, waving his hand at his older brother. “I’m just watching”.

“Hah”, Gerardo laughed, pointing at Romeo. “He called you junior”.

“Marcello, seriously”, Romeo sighed. “You know how dad gets when he’s worried. Hell, do you remember the time you went too far out in the sewer, and dad, granddad and all our uncles almost exploded with worry? Do you remember how sad mom was?”

“Dude, I was 4”, Marcello said with a deadpan look. “Now I’m just as old as dad was when he and his brothers started going out”.

“Yeah, but they also listened to dad!”

“Haha!”, Gerardo laughed. “Donnie, Raph and Mikey listening to dad? That was a good one ‘Meo!”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?”, Romeo sighed, side eyeing his little brother.

“Relax”, Marcello said, straining his neck to get a better look at the crowd. “I’m just looking around. You never know when you see a pretty girl”.

“A girl?”, Romeo asked skeptically. “Bro, you’re 15”.

“So? Mom and dad met when they were 15”.

“18”, Romeo corrected.

“Whatever”, Marcello said, rolling his eyes, letting his hands rest on the edge of the building.

“Why do you wanna look at girls?”, Gerardo asked.

“I don’t know”, Marcello mumbled. “I just wanna look…”

“You are not going to score a human girl”, Romeo said, crossing his arms.

“Says who?!”

“Dad, who is waiting for us to get home”, Romeo said. “Come on, he knows when the game ends and how long it takes to get back”.

“That hypocrite”, Marcello said. “Mom is a human, dad is a mutant. They didn’t meet because he kept hiding away!”

“No, mom and dad met through aunt April at a house party”, Romeo said, putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Now, let’s go before dad and our uncles go looking for us. Or even worse, granddad”.

“No!”, Marcello said, pulling his shoulder away from his brother, getting down to sit on the edge. “I wanna see some humans!”

Gerardo watched the interaction with unease. After 12 years he knew that his two older brothers could get into some heated arguments, just like their father and their uncle Raphael had done when they were younger. But Gerardo also knew that neither Romeo or Marcello would back down so easily.

“You have seen plenty of humans today! You watched a whole basketball game!”, Romeo exclaimed in frustration, grabbing for his brother once more. “Now, let’s go home!”

“I said no!”, Marcello exclaimed, pulling away yet again, this time with much more force. This caused Marcello to tumble forward, his weight pulling him off of the roof, down towards the big crowd of humans below. But thanks to the higher powers for Romeo’s fast reflexes, he managed to get a hold of Marcello’s hand, pressing his heels against the edge before leaning back. Gerardo yelped, running to throw his arms around Romeo, helping him pull their brother back on the roof safely.

Once Marcello was back standing on the roof, slightly shivering from the sudden shock and fear of falling from a high building, Romeo was on him in less than a minute.

“Are you okay?! Did they see you?! What were you thinking!?”

“It wasn’t on purpose, worry fart”, Marcello said, pushing Romeo off of him. “And no! No one saw me”.

“Guys, I think we should go”, Gerardo said, looking over his shoulder in unease.

“Rardo’s right”, Romeo said. “They could be checking the roof soon”. And with those words, the three brothers hurried home.

—

The three brothers entered the quiet lair, their senses heightened for any sounds of movements that would alert them to their extended family’s presence as they sneaked through the lair.

“Do you think dad has gone to bed?”, Gerardo asked.

Marcello smirked, his back straightened as if he didn’t have a worry in the world as he clapped Romeo on the shoulder in victory. “Told you that old fart wouldn’t notice a thing”.

“Look twice before using the term old fart”, a voice sounded, causing the three brothers to jump in surprise, finding their father standing right behind them. His arms crossed and a scolding expression on his face, his towering statue causing his sons to crane their necks in order to look up at him.

“H- hey dad”, Marcello smiled with a sheepish smile. “H- how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough”, Leo said, his expression unchanging. “Where have you been?”

“At the game”, Gerardo said. “Just like we told you we would”.

“The game finished an hour ago. It only takes 15 minutes to get from the game and to the lair”, Leo said, his hands resting on his hips.

“The game stretched out”, Marcello said, feigning innocence. This caused Leo to sigh, rubbing the bridge of his beak.

Romeo sighed, knowing what this meant. “You and the others watched the game on TV, didn’t you?”

“We did”, Leo sighed, sounding more than a little frustrated.

“Okay, we might have hung around after the game and watched humans, but that’s it”, Marcello said, ignoring his brothers’ burning glares when he used the word “we”. “But it’s okay now. We’re home, safe and sound. So if you don’t mind, I think I’ll head to bed and get some sleep before heading to dinner at aunt April and uncle Casey’s tomorrow”, the middle child smiled innocently, trying to sneak past the broad form of his father.

“Oh no you don’t”, Leo said, grabbing on to the tails of Marcello’s bandana, janking him back with a small tuck, and then pulling it off of his head with a smooth flick of his wrist. “Because you’re all grounded”.

“WHAT?!”, Marcello yelled out loud, grabbing onto his bare head.

“Aww”, Gerardo said with a sad expression, not resisting as his father took the bandana off of his head. “I hate being grounded”.

“That’s the rules”, Leo said, waiting as Romeo untied his own bandana before handing it to his father. “You don’t follow the rules, you get grounded”.

“That’s not fair!”, Marcello yelled. “You went out all the time when you were 15!”

“Yes, I got grounded too”, Leo said. “You see how that works?” He gathered all bandanas in one hand before pointing in the direction of their rooms. “Now go to bed. We start training early tomorrow”.

The three brothers groaned, Gerardo and Marcello being extra loud as they did so, dragging their feet toward the metal stairs that lead to the second floor of the lair. Leo watched them leave, making sure they had gone to their rooms, before returning back to your and his shared bedroom.

In your bedroom, he found you reading a book in the bed table light, your baby daughter cuddling against your chest as she played with her teething toy. You looked up and saw the bandanas in Leo’s hand, watching as he laid them on top of the dresser.

“Grounded?”, you asked, Valentina wiggling in your arms at the sight of her father, a big smile on her face.

“Grounded”, Leo confirmed as he got ready for bed.

“Hopefully they didn’t take it too hard”, you said, closing your book before placing it on the nightstand.

“Well, Marcello wasn’t too happy about it, but the others took it pretty well”, Leo said, crawling under the covers, wrapping arm around you, before pulling you and blabbering Valentina close.

“So nothing new there?”, you asked, resting your head upon his shoulder, watching as your daughter started to hit lightly upon Leo’s plastron with a wide smile. Leo shook his head in a response, resting his cheeks against the top of your head, watching you daughter place both hands on his chest. Leo sighed with a smile, tickling the side of little Valentina, her giggles loud and happy as she hid against you.

“And you, young lady, better not be like your brothers when you get older”, he said, finding peace in her small giggles.

“That, or she’ll be even worse”, you joked, your fingers soothing her small shell.

“With three big brothers? Yeah, you’re probably right”, Leo chuckled, placing a kiss on the temple of your head.

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luvtonique · 8 months

Text

I realized something this morning.

This is probably gonna be a long post. (Edit, yep)

I'm a pretty fairly public figure on the internet, and I very regularly interact with a huge amount of people. From YouTube Comments to Discord to Tumblr Asks/Comments to Newgrounds Reviews to MMO Chat to Mic-Chat on Games to Twitch Chat to Stream Chat, blah blah blah.

I've, for years now, over a decade (hell over two decades) talked to probably thousands of people, and have been able to get a gauge on a pretty safe to say "average" of collective human intelligence on the internet.

I've come to realize that not everybody has that kind of experience talking to people online as I do. I've talked to literally thousands, probably near ten thousand, people online in my life.

This is a staggeringly high number and puts me in an outlier position among the rest of you, who likely have only interacted with a double digit number of people online in your life.

Now that you have that information in mind, here's what I realized this morning.

I realized that the reason I don't listen to people, ESPECIALLY when it comes to politics, is because I have learned through talking to all these people that fucking nobody knows what they're fucking goddamn talking about.

I study a lot of things in my spare time, and history is a huge one that I study. I very regularly read and listen to multiple sources talking about historic events, and I make sure to look at as many sources as possible, sometimes including reading encyclopedias in my own home that we've owned for like 40 years.

I cross-reference all of these things and paint a picture of the most likely truths through various means.

Why's that important? Because sometimes a 14 year old on Twitter, literally nearly less than a third my age, will occasionally come along telling me that I'm wrong. Not about history necessarily, but about some opinion that I have based on my own experience and my own knowledge that I've researched myself.

I usually ask them where they got their information, and I'm met with boldfaced idiocy. Completely braindead shit like "180,000 people said it on Twitter," or they link me a Tumblr post with 100k notes, or they say "It's common knowledge," (which is the biggest red flag of them all because not only does it prove they have no evidence to back up what they're saying, but as this post will go on to explain, "common knowledge" is quite literally the worst source of information on anything. People commonly think the earth is flat and that Scientology is real. People commonly think that walking under a ladder or breaking a mirror gives you bad luck. People commonly think that naturally blue food exists.)

In my life I have met thousands of people, and THOUSANDS of them are fucking idiots who very very smugly state completely incorrect knowledge. Earlier today someone tried to tell me that the creators of Beat Saber never sold the company to Facebook, and I showed them proof and they went silent for 3 hours and then went "Yeah so what, Facebook is still a good company" and I wanted to beat my head against the desk.

The internet is full of people who are fascinatingly ignorant. I'm not calling myself "better" or "smarter" than anyone here, I'm just saying that I have learned better than most people that people on the internet are not, and never fucking will be, a good source of information. I don't care if they're your best fucking friend, the coin-toss of them knowing what they're talking about or actually having the facts is so heavily weighted against them, it's seriously like a 98% chance they have no fucking clue what they're talking about.

I urge everyone to take a moment and realize that the internet is, in fact, a good place to find information and do research, but PEOPLE ON THE INTERNET, especially MEDIA AND SOCIAL MEDIA, are NOT SMART PEOPLE AND ARE NOT GOOD SOURCES FOR YOUR INFORMATION.

These are angry, smug, annoying little idiots who are likely 14 years old with a 1st grade reading comprehension who aspires to be a TikTok content creator as a career, and under no fucking circumstance should you ever, ever, EVER listen to any social, financial, religious, gendered, medical or political advice they give.

The world has gotten vastly out of control with how much people think "A lot of people agree with me" is a good enough reason to solidify your opinions. "A lot of people agree" is the biggest red flag ever, because people on the fucking internet are complete fucking idiots, I'm sorry, but I'm someone with far more experience talking to people on the internet than literally any of you reading this. I talk to people on the internet as a career and have been doing this for longer than most of you reading this have been alive.

So what's the point of this? What's the take-away?

The take-away is that I'm saddened by how many people will attack each other vehemently, cut off friends and family members, label people as toxic or problematic, jump to conclusions, etc. based on complete and utter misinformation spouted to them by people who have never once in their entire life actually looked up what the fuck they're talking about. They treat random strangers on Twitter as "experts" because that person is well articulated or put together a YouTube video with really good editing that's softly spoken by a British accent guy and has scary music whenever some "evil" person is on the screen.

The take-away is that people, like yourself (don't you dare try to deny it) will just believe whatever they read on social media, or whatever their Discord friend-group is talking about, because they are living in a complete falsehood that people on the internet know better than they do.

You are not incapable of doing your own research. You are not incapable of finding the truth. You are not stupid. Just do your own research, look into things yourself, cross-reference, use the scientific method, go to a library, read books, for fuck sake please adopt the basic social skill of "If someone says it on the internet it is most likely not true and I should look into it myself."

Because the current state of people is monstrous.

Y'all get so fucking mad about things that are just plain not true, and you revolve your entire life around things you were told by complete idiots and/or children on Twitter and other social media websites.

Stop.

Look at yourself, look at how angry you get about things, and consider that there may be a possibility that anger stems from a complete lack of any foundation or truth in your own beliefs.

Consider the almost 100% guaranteed possibility that you have been blatantly lied to by people who have no fucking idea what they're talking about, and that you are violently upholding standards that are incorrect because you have placed trust in the word of untrustworthy people.

Look up confirmation bias, read about it.

Look up manipulation tactics, read about it.

Look up "Plato's Republic" and read about it.

Absolutely, under no circumstances, should you ever, EVER, form your social or religious or political or financial or gendered or sexual etc. opinions based on SHIT YOU READ ON SOCIAL MEDIA.

And while we're here, don't listen to the news either. They're just a bunch of parrots saying what needs to be said to get you all fighting with each other so that the government can fuck things up while you're distracted. Do your own research, check multiple sources, don't consider social media or regular media to be a 'source,' get every bit of information from every angle, and for fuck sake, stop attacking people for disagreeing with you when you, yourself, only believe what you believe because your friend group believes it and you know that if you disagree with your friend group they'll all attack you so you'd rather be on their side, which only further proves my point that y'all need to fucking chill.

"Democracy will never work. If 3 medical experts tell you that you must eat a ginger root to cure your ailments, but 100,000 idiots with no medical experience tell you otherwise, you're more likely to believe the 100,000 idiots. They are louder, there are more of them, and you will gamble on the hope that among those 100,000 idiots, there must be more than 3 medical experts. The voice of the ignorant will always drown out the voice of the educated."

-Plato's Republic, 375BCE (Paraphrased)

"I can't believe Jay just called us all idiots and expects us to listen to him"

-Someone in the comments of this (It's gonna happen)

PS: If you looked up "Naturally Blue Food," and found out it does in fact not exist, good for you for doing your own research!

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mirai-e-jump · 2 months

Text

Masato Yano Photobook: TONE (translations and select pages below)

Publication: March 15, 2024

Masato Yano's 132 Q&A About 13 years ago, "Masato Yano's Style Photobook" was published with a Q&A. Now, a 32 year old Masato Yano answers nearly the same questions again.

1) What's your nickname? Yanocchi, Masanii, Masati

2) When were you born? December 16, 1991

3) What's your blood type? Type B

4) Your zodiac sign? Sagittarius

5) What size family are you from? I come from a family of 4

6) How tall are you? 173cm

7) Your shoe size? 26.5cm

8) What are some of your strengths? My jokes

9) How do you spend your days off? I'll drink the night before, go to the gym

10) What subjects were you worst at? Math and history

11) What are your favorite foods? Sushi and tsukemen

12) What's your assessment of your own personality? I'm easily obsessive and bored. I'm actually shy, but I'm trying my best so you don't think that way (laughs)

13) What are some of your weaknesses? I'm not good at remembering things like people's birthdays or names

14) What are you proud of? That I made my debut in "Shintokumaru"

15) What's your favorite color? Red and white

16) What type of woman do you like? Someone with a good core, someone who eats beautifully

17) What instruments can you play? None

18) What's your special skill? That I can guess who someone is just by their voice

19) What's your best feature? My double eyelids

20) What do you wish would disappear from the world? War

21) The first impressions that are often said about you? That I look scary

22) The person that you respect? Tsumabuki Satoshi-san and Fujiwara Tatsuya-san

23) What do you have a habit of saying? "~nanoyo" and "oh no"

24) Your least favorite type? Someone who only talks about themself

25) What's your treasure? The wallet I received from Tsumabuki-san

26) The ideal self that you desire to be? I want to be liked by many people

27) What's your "theme song"? Recently it's been that I'm the "most powerful king"

28) Your favorite artists? WATWING, the Carpenters, Eric Clapton, GENERATIONS

29) What do you do when you first wake up in the morning? Put on my glasses

30) What do you do right before bed? Put on the radio

31) What habits do you do unconsciously? Touch my nose, do things like suck on the end of a straw

32) What do you usually perform at karaoke? I tend to sing alot by SMAP

33) What foods do you not like? Shiitake mushrooms

34) What's your favorite thing to drink? Mets Grapefruit

35) What was the first CD you ever bought? Jet Coaster Romance by KinKi Kids

36) What do you like to watch and what's your favorite anime? Great Pretender, soccer games

37) How long does it take for you to bathe? 1 hour

38) What's your favorite season? I don't do well with heat

39) When do your emotions become intense? They don't

40) What are your hobbies? Muscle training

41) Do you cry easily? When I feel like it

42) Do you have a pet? What's it's name? I had one. It was a cat named Chaco

43) How many children do you want? I want two. A boy and a girl

44) What's the first thing you look at when entering a convenience store? The bento corner

45) What do you usually buy from a convenience store? Water and spicy ramen

46) What really makes you angry? Nothing much

47) What's the number one thing you want right now? Muscles! (laughs)

48) What have you been secretly interested in recently? The Korean language

49) What's the one thing you'd take to a deserted island? A lighter

50) How do you relax at home? Burn incense and listen to some records

51) What's necessary for world peace? Love

52) What do you wonder about? Why is there a Ladies Day, but not a Men's Day?

53) What would you do if the world ended today? I'd overdo things as usual

54) S? M? I wouldn't say I'm an M💦

55) What's your phone background? Currently it's King-Ohger (for the past 2 months)

56) What animal would you compare yourself to? Some kind of reptilian I guess

57) What are you into these days? Cilantro

58) What do you like to collect? Miniature food sets

59) What's your favorite scent? White musk types, Savon by SHIRO

60) What's something expensive that you bought recently? A vintage varsity jacket

61) How often do you go out shopping? At the very least I go out once a month

62) Can you cook? I do it often

63) What kind of present would you be happy to get from a friend? I'd be happy with anything

64) What would make a girl happy if you gave her a present? Aesop

65) What's your fetish? Legs

66) What would the ideal confession be? Saying it on the way back home after going out for meals a few times

67) At what age do you want to marry by? Hopefully by 40 (laughs)

68) What's something good you do for your body? I go to the gym

69) What's something you always have on you? Chapstick

70) What's the ideal spot for a date? A buffet

71) Which do you prefer? The sea or the mountains? Both the sea and mountains have alot of bugs

72) What scares you? Roller coasters, horror, cockroaches

73) When does your excitement rise? When my work goes well

74) What's your favorite place? Home

75) What's your favorite store? It's a secret ❤️

76) Are you a meat eater? Vegetarian? Are you a fan of cabbage rolls? I eat bugs

77) What's your favorite onigiri topping? Salmon roe

78) What do you usually get at a cafe? I don't go to cafes

79) What's something tasty you've eaten recently? The umeboshi Fukuyama-kun gave me

80) What have you been paranoid about recently? That a big earthquake will hit Tokyo

81) Where do you start washing your body from? My head

82) What's your favorite type of fashion? Things that give off an "American casual" feel

83) At what moment do you fall in love with someone? Sometimes it's not really apparent

84) What words make you happy to hear? "Your performance was good"

85) What's your favorite movie? Grave of the Fireflies

86) What person do you really want to meet right now? Ninagawa-san

87) What's something that's alittle luxurious? Sushi that doesn't come from a conveyor belt

88) How would you describe yourself with a single (kanji) character? "Think," because no matter what I do or say, I have alot to think about.

89) How long does it take you to get up in the morning and leave your house? On a work day it takes 20 minutes. I usually don't go out on my days off (laughs)

90) What changes your mood? When I'm left out

91) What would you consider (if they did) to be cheating on you? If they did a deep kiss (laughs)

92) Are you sensitive to the heat? To the cold? I don't like either

93) Emails or phone calls, which is better? Writing is best

94) What do you frequently use on your phone? Instagram, Twitter, Uber

95) How old were you when you first fell in love? What kind of person were they? It was a kid who lived in my neighborhood when I was in my second year of elementary school.

96) What gestures do women do that make you feel excited? When they put their hair behind one ear

97) Are you enjoying work right now? I want to have fun (laughs)

98) What's your favorite TV program? Programs that only feature comedians

99) What's your favorite sport? Soccer

100) What's your least favorite sport? Baseball

101) Are you the type of person who likes park rides that cause you to scream? I don't do well with them, but if I'm asked to ride one, I will (laughs)

102) Are you good at athletics? I think I'm a good at it

103) What do you take photos of? Tsukemen and sushi

104) What's your favorite flower? Gerbera

105) What's your favorite event of the year? It's New Year's Eve, I'll have a party with my friends and we'll eat alot

106) What's your top 3 favorite stalls at a festival? Beef skewers is #3, grilled squid is #2, okonomiyaki is #1

107) What was your most stressful experience? Performing on opening day for Shintokumaru

108) Your favorite donburi? Beef bowl

109) Are you good with your hands? I wonder~?

110) How long do you sleep in a day? About 3-7 hours. I sleep alot longer on days when I don't work

111) Is your sleeping position good? I think it's okay

112) What's your favorite ramen? I love tsukemen. I have a "cat's tongue" though

113) What color would you compare yourself to? Purple

114) Do you like scary stories? I don't like them in any way (laughs)

115) What subjects were you best at? Gym and art

116) What club activities were you involved in? The soccer club in middle school and the dance club in high school

117) If you were reborn, would you rather be male or female? I'd still want to be male

118) What part time jobs have you had? A bread factory, an Izakaya, a festival stall

119) What do you want to do when you're 40? Meet fans at events

120) What were your favorite school lunches? Nanbanzuke, meat sauce

121) Have you ever seen a ghost? I might've (laughs)

122) What's something you'd like to try that you've never experienced before? Travel overseas

123) Where would you like to take a trip to? Hot springs, Korea, Italy

124) What's your favorite ride at an amusement park? The exploration based ones

125) How many times in one day do you send emails? Currently, I exchange about 30-50 LINE's a day

126) Were you the type of person who finished their Summer homework early? I always felt like I was rushing to finish it at the last second💦

127) Are you more likely to arrive early for a meet up? Or do you arrive late? For work I'm early, in my private life I'm late

128) If you want to go out with someone, how many years older are you okay with? I've never thought about it in terms of age

129) What's an essential item you need when traveling? Earphones

130) What do you do when you can't sleep at night? There are so many things that I'll just give up. I actually thought about this questionnaire when I couldn't sleep (laughs)

131) What do you think about while brushing your teeth? I imagine that there's red paint on my teeth, and then I'll imagine how I have to get it off

132) If you only had one week left to live, what would you do? I'd eat a bunch of the foods I like. I'd meet up with the people I like as much as possible. I'd leave a secret audio farewell message for everyone

#smap and kinki kids...yano-chan my king 🤝#some of these questions though 💀#toku cast #ohsama sentai kingohger #kingohger #super sentai #masato yano #yano masato #racules husty #racles husty #my scans #my translation #ohsama sentai king ohger #king ohger #toku cast pb #as a personal photobook I didn't want to scan all pages #I just did a few of my favorites #note: I misunderstood the context to one question #please check the notes

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fordohyon · 10 months

Text

BEAR MASCOT...

PAIRING -

Kim Woonhak x GN! Reader

SUMMARY - (not really s summary but a preview(ish) thingy??)

You sigh as you remove the heavy mascots head, a cool breeze from a fan chilling your flushed cheeks. You notice one of the basketball players standing behind you. Number 23. "I never knew you were a girl," he comments. "Or pretty."

TAGS -

fluff, fluff, and…. fluff!!

WARNING(s) -

mistaking reader for a girl, calling reader pretty, Mutual pining? maybe being too short. English isn’t my first language so please expect grammatical & spelling errors 😭

lmk if i left out anything,, Not proofread!

WORD COUNT - 1.3k

A/N - should i make this into a series??? also plz tell me if there are any grammatical errors or what. I'd also really appreciate it if you give me feedback and reblog!!

It's been precisely two hours since you donned the bear mascot outfit representing your school. You only agreed to do it because no one else volunteered and thought it might be fun. However, the experience has been anything but fun. With only 30 to 40 minutes left in the costume, you are counting down the seconds until you can take it off.

The basketball jersey, hat, and shoes the bear is wearing are decorated with your school's logo, with the school's signature colors of yellow and green accenting the trim, number, and player names. You are thankful that nobody from other sections knows it's you inside the costume; otherwise, you would feel incredibly embarrassed.

You check the time and realize that 20 minutes have already passed. You hope the game will end in the next 10 minutes or so. A few students request a picture with you, and you oblige them. Five more minutes pass, and the game is nearly over. You can’t wait to get out of the mascot outfit and take a shower.

Sweat drips down to your ankles, causing you to shiver. This is the longest you have ever worn the mascot, 2 hours and 10 minutes.

After what had seemed about an eternity, the game finally finished. All of the players and spectators collected their belongings and fled. Except for a handful who freshened up or spent time with their friends prior to heading home, unfortunately for you, Kim Woonhak happened to be one of those individuals, for whom you were growing feelings.

Once everyone had left, you finally had the chance to rid of the ludicrous costume that had caused you to sweat profusely. Though you noticed a few lingering figures in the vicinity, you chose not to approach them, assuming they were likely teachers, janitors, or guards. As you removed the mascot's head, a cool breeze struck your face. you were taken aback to find Kim fucking Woonhak standing there, his jaw dropping and eyes bulging in what appeared to be an utter shock - as though he had just witnessed the most unbelievable thing in his life. "I... I never knew you were a girl, or uhm.. uhh... pretty!" Holy shit. This is extremely mortifying. You can't even begin to express the depths of humiliation you're feeling. The fact that it involves Kim Woonhak, the person you've had the most obvious crush on since sixth grade, makes it incredibly, excruciatingly, so intensely humiliating. Is it just you or does it seem like the fan isn't working?

"Thank... you?" The words slipped out of your mouth, your voice wavering with uncertainty. As you fidgeted with the bottom half of the mascot, your hands betrayed your nervousness. The expression on your face told the whole story - a mix of embarrassment, anxiety, and the discomfort of being caught off guard. Sweat trickled down your forehead, emphasizing the redness that flushed your face, a combination of the stifling heat and the overwhelming humiliation of the moment. Woonhak's unexpected presence only intensified your unease, leaving you at a loss for words.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to catch you off guard. I-I was just checking if anyone was here since I was uh, gonna lock up the.. uhm... gym!" Woonhak stammered, his apology filled with genuine concern. He tried his best to shed the awkward tension that enveloped the air but fell short in his attempt.

"It's alright. No need to apologize," you reassured him, your voice trembling slightly. "I wasn't expecting anyone else to be here either. I assumed it was just teachers and guardians. Guess we both got caught off guard." You utter as you took hold of the lower half of the costume, a sudden chill in the air sent a shiver down your spine. The contrast between the hot and humid gym and the cooler surroundings intensified the discomfort, further adding to the already awkward situation.

Woonhak nodded in agreement, his eyes still fixed on you with an intensity that made you feel self-conscious. You tried to disregard it, but the emotion only grew stronger. You wished you could just evaporate- or at least get out of this sweaty, reeking costume.

As you struggled to remove the rest of the bear suit, Woonhak stepped forward to help. You were grateful for the gesture, but it only caused you to feel more exposed and vulnerable. You tried to focus on the task at hand, but your hands were quivering so badly that you could barely get a hold of the zipper.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, you were unburdened by the costume. You took a deep breath of fresh air and felt the calm draft wash over your sweaty skin. You turned to thank Woonhak, but he was already walking away, his head down and his hands playing with the fabric of his jersey.

You felt a pang of disappointment, but you couldn't blame him for wanting to get away from the awkward situation. You gathered your things and headed out of the gym, feeling fatigued and embarrassed. you couldn't help but replay the uncomfortable encounter in your head, wondering if things would ever be the same between you and Woonhak.

As you make your way out of the gym, you notice Woonhak and his group of friends looking at you. Just as you try to avoid their gaze, he rides up to you on his bike, beckoning you to join him. "It'll be faster if you ride with me. Don't forget to take a warm shower, wouldn't want you to catch a cold. I want to see you tomorrow!" His words catch you off guard, and you can't help but feel a mix of confusion and excitement.

Up close, Woonhak looks even better than you remembered. His endearing smile and delicate demeanor make him seem like a big teddy bear. You hesitate for a moment, recalling the events that happened earlier, but ultimately agree to ride with him. "Uh, okay," you reply, your voice tinged with nervousness. Despite your uneasiness, you're grateful for the opportunity to spend more time with him.

As Woonhak makes his way down the road on his bike, he suddenly turns to you. "Hug me, so you don't fall." he says with a smile. You're surprised by his proposal, but you don't hesitate to envelop your arms around him. As you hold on to him tightly, you feel a sense of warmth and comfort wash over you. It's as if all of your nervousness vanished at that moment, and you can't help but feel grateful for his presence. Being in his arms feels like a dream come true, and you can't help but wonder if this is the start of something special.

As you ride on his bicycle, you can't help but feel a sense of security and contentment. The wind rushes through your hair, and the relaxed breeze washes over your skin. You feel alive and free, and for the first time in a long while, Woonhak's company is enough to make you feel safe.

As you reach your destination, you shift to thank Woonhak for the ride. But before you can say anything, he leans in and plants a soft kiss on your cheek. You feel your face flush with warmth, and your heart races with excitement. You can't believe that this is happening to you - it's like something out of romance fiction.

"Thanks for the ride," you murmur, your voice barely audible. Woonhak beams at you, and you feel a sense of belonging wash over you. Maybe this is the start of something special, something you've been yearning for all your life. As you make your way back home, you can't help but let out a squeal of excitement. You're grateful for the unexpected turn of events, and you can't wait to see what the future holds. But for now, you're content just being in the moment with the person who makes your heart skip a beat.

do not translate, repost on other websites, or take my work. posts on tumblr, stay on tumblr. I do not cross-post my work unless I say so!

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