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auteurdelabre · 6 months

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SOMETHING TO FIGHT FOR (series) Joelxf!reader Part 1

Word Count: 5.3K

Pairing: Dad!Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n, no physical descriptions) Tommy x Maria, Bill x Frank

Warnings: This is saccharine slice of life with smut and a Soft!Joel. You have been warned. There is swearing, there is smut, but when it gets to those chapters you will have plenty of warning. (That is if there is interest in my story!)

A/N: This is part of a sweeter series (lots of angst, pining and smut ahead) Also despite Sarah's young age Joel is early 40's in this because slightly grey babygirl DILF Joel is the best Joel.

"Please don't make me do this."

You shoot Maria a dark look as she drags you to her wardrobe, ignoring your plea.

"C'mon, it'll be fun! Plus I need your help picking out what to wear."

She opens the gleaming wood doors with a flourish and indicates with her head for you to look. You give her a once over with her luminous dark skin, hair in tight braids and roll your eyes.

Like it matters what she wears.

Maria is stunning. Arresting. Whatever other adjectives you need to describe someone who is not only beautiful but kind, brave, opinionated, strong... and occasionally manipulative.

How else can you explain why an hour later you're seated in her car on the way to the cheapest Italian restaurant in town for a double date?

"Tommy is so cute," Maria giggles, actually giggles. "I bet his brother is too."

"Mhmmm." You stare out the window with a frown, watching the rainstorm outside. The dress you're wearing feels itchy and you wish you were back at home with a book.

But you've agreed to this: a blind date with Tommy's brother.

You haven't been on a date since Paul. Paul with the light eyes and delicate fingers. Paul who promised to love you forever and then taken off to Manhattan, leaving you with rent you couldn't cover by yourself and a heartbreak so devastating it took Maria living with you for a full two weeks to get back to the land of the living.

Six months later her basement suite is where you currently call home, a place you often find yourself laying in bed at night wondering what the fuck had happened to your life plans. Maria had always been your most successful friend, running her own business, owning this huge house all on her own. She plans on flipping it once the renovations are done.

And when she'd known you couldn't pay your rent alone she hadn't even asked you how she could help. You'd woken up from a long depression nap amidst the breakup one morning to find your belongings packed and labeled and Maria telling you that you were moving in with her.

Moving into her basement wasn't exactly how you'd imagined your life at this age. But then again you didn't expect to be single and working at your same low paying job then either. She won't accept rent money either.

She's a fucking saint.

So of course you had to say yes to this favor. Of course you had to pull on your uncomfortable dress and look your best because she’s your closest friend and because she never asks you for anything.

Maria and Tommy met during renovations at Maria's place. She told you it was an instant connection, a jolt that went through her the minute he'd come through the door to give an estimate. Tommy and Maria's relationship is new, only a few weeks. But you've never seen your friend like this, all bright and cheery and giggly. She's normally more subdued, more of a quiet observer.

Love does strange things to people you suppose.

You know it did to you not so long ago. But yours didn't have the happy ending you're sure your friends’ will.

The truth is despite your own heartbreak you are delighted for Maria. Genuine joy flows from you when she tells you about Tommy and his dark eyes and his sweet shy way of talking.

Maria backs the car into the spot, humming nervously under her breath. You scan the large windows of the restaurant hoping to catch a glimpse of Tommy. You've seen a few photos on Val's phone, but those can be deceiving.

You cell rings shrilly in your purse and you retrieve it just as Maria puts the car into park.

"Hey, just gimme a sec, I'm just getting dinner with Maria," you say as you answer the phone, glancing over at your friend. "Sorry it's my mom calling. I just need a minute if that's okay?"

"Of course," Maria says nodding solemnly. I'll meet you inside."

She hands you the car keys before running a nervous hand through her braids and heading for the restaurant. You watch her leave, holding in a smirk at her obvious nerves.

"Hi bug," your mom's throaty voice sounds out through the earpiece when you put it back to your ear. "Thought you'd want an update."

"I did yeah, thanks for calling. Did they say anything?"

Anything your mother was going to say is immediately washed out by the most obnoxious sound of "Back in Black" playing at high volume.

"The fuck - "

Your eyes go to the silver and blue truck that's pulled up next to yours in the crowded parking lot.

A man with a short beard and tousled brown locks sits behind the wheel putting the vehicle into park. The music is still blasting though, and it's no wonder you can hear him; his window is half down.

Your mom is still saying something but you can't hear her. You try plugging the ear facing the driver and pressing the phone more harshly against your temple but it's no good.

Irritation is going like lightning through your body at the actions of the asshole next to you. Another quick glance tells you he's just sitting there, his one arm slung over the wheel as he stares into space.

"Mom just a sec," you interrupt before rolling down your window and calling out to him.

"Hey!"

The man in the truck doesn't turn his head in your direction until you call out another sharp 'hey'. As he glances at you his brows lift in question.

"Turn down the fucking music! This isn't a concert."

Thinking back, you could have gone about that in a much kinder way.

You could have politely explained you were on an important call. You could have asked him nicely to turn it down. But you're so anxious about the importance of this phone call, that your manners leave you.

The man is looking at you as if he can't believe your vitriol. His dark eyes are soulful as he stares at you, unblinking. The music is still pumping in his truck, perfectly matching the tempo of your rapidly rising pulse.

"Are you deaf or just an asshole?" you shout, your hand still holding the phone to your chest, praying your mom can't hear you verbally lambasting the man next to you.

The man looks like he wants to say something back at you. A tic in his jaw flexing. He parts his mouth before clamping it shut and glaring openly at you. He jerks the key out of the ignition, the music immediately silencing.

"... in the hospital," your mother is saying.

Immediately your attention is back on her and what she's saying. You only notice the man has exited the truck when you hear the slam of its door and the heavy sound of his footsteps diminishing towards the restaurant. You're too fixated on what your mom is saying, or rather, isn't saying.

"Do they know if . . . " you trail off, not sure if you want to know the answer.

"Not yet."

The two of you lapse into a gentle silence that your mother is first to break. "Did you say you were having dinner with Maria?"

"Uh yeah," you say, still processing the information. "Blind date kinda thing."

"Good for you," she says warmly. "Go on then, bug. I don't want to keep you. Give her my love."

"I don't really want to go inside,” you admit. “Rather just stay in the car all night.”

"Enough of that," your mother chides gently. "I didn't raise a coward. Now go on. We'll chat later, I love you."

You respond similarly and place the phone back into your purse. You take a few steadying breaths, glancing at yourself in her rear view mirror and then pulling yourself from the car.

/////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// ///////

The restaurant is dimly lit with gentle cliché Italian music playing in the background. You and Maria have been coming here since college; it's a familiar haunt so it's no wonder that she set the date here. It's some of the worst Italian food in town but also the cheapest.

You come to the table to see just the two of them sitting across from one another and you feel your heart leap and sinks all at once. Did the brother not show up? Are you off the hook?

Or worse, did he see you and leave?

Maria smiles at you, her hand still in Tommy's. She nods her head at the chair beside her. "Come sit."

You do, looking nervously over at Tommy and introducing yourself. Tommy reminds you so much of a puppy dog in the best possible way; all smiles and eager energy as he greets you. He's lithe with broad shoulders he covers in a jean jacket over a white t-shirt. His face is clean shaven and his dark hair fans into his equally dark eyes. He's sweet looking, boyish and nervous.

"My brother's just making a phone call," he explains when he notices you glance at the empty seat beside him. "He'll be right back."

Relief mingled with trepidation goes through you. The waitress comes over with everyone's drinks, leaving a beer in the empty space on the table for Tommy's brother and a berry-colored glass of something in front of you.

"I got you the sangria," Maria shrugs.

"Sounds good, thanks."

You take a sip, feeling nervous as the flavor coats your tongue. The restaurant is busy tonight, not really a shock for a Friday night. You glance around, your eyes darting to Maria and Tommy before you adopt an authoritative tone.

"So Tommy, what are your intentions with Maria?"

Tommy's eyes blow wide in surprise, blinking and stammering.

“I, I uh –“

"You're so mean," Maria says as you both burst into giggles. "You're fine, honey. She's joking."

At Tommy's stricken expression, Maria pats his hand affectionately. Relief instantly floods his face.

"Couldn't resist," you say, shooting a glance at a still recovering Tommy. "If it helps, she's crazy about you,"

Tommy's face breaks into a wide grin that he shoots at Maria. "Is that so?"

Maria looks flustered, opening up her menu and pretending she doesn't hear him.

"Let's order I'm starved."

You nod, looking down at your menu with a smile. You know that tonight is going to be awkward, as any blind date with another couple would be. But you like seeing Maria smiling, you like hearing her laugh as Tommy murmurs something to her about the garlic bread. Maria has been through a lot, she deserves this. You resolve to do whatever you can to make this night go well.

"Ah, there he is," Tommy says shooting a smile at someone behind you. "This is my brother, Joel."

You look up from the menu at the figure who slides into the chair opposite you. You're ready to be as charming as needed to get through this dinner but the smile immediately dies on your face.

It's the man from the truck.

He's broad shouldered, wearing a dark green button down rolled at the sleeves. It's tight across the arms, emphasizing the width of his chest. He and his brother don't look much alike to you aside from the coloring. Joel's face is pleasant if not serious-looking with big, sad eyes. He's attractive enough, a bit older than you and seems rugged with his beard and tousled locks, threaded with bits of grey.

He seems to be doing the same mental gymnastics because he goes from looking confused to angry within a microsecond of seeing you.

So much for a pleasant evening.

Normally you would have wanted to know more about him than the vague description you'd received from Maria on the ride over, but right now you want the earth to swallow you whole. You just screamed at this guy, called him an asshole in the parking lot less than ten minutes ago. Now you have to sit here and pretend to be polite.

His eyes move swiftly to Maria who looks at him nervously.

“The infamous girlfriend,” Joel says with a small smile. “Pleased to meet you.”

“The even more infamous brother,” Maria says warmly shaking his proffered hand.

“That’d be me,” Joel says with a soft chuckle. You wonder if perhaps you overestimated how rude you’d been. Joel seems perfectly nice right now, smiling at Maria and Tommy and apologizing for taking so long on the phone. Maria introduces you to him in a tone that sounds almost proud.

The smile that Joel has been wearing immediately slides from his face and you clear your throat nervously, forcing a smile onto your face.

"Uh, hi. Nice to meet you."

He gives you a sharp nod by way of reply.He doesn't look at you for long. More a cursory glance at your face before he picks up his beer and takes a swig before turning to ask Tommy something about the job site.

Great.

You crane your neck, leaning back in your chair hoping to see your waitress in the rapidly filling restaurant. You want this evening to speed up and be over. Maybe you can order an appetizer and dash out. But you can see your waitress deep in conversation with another table of eight and know you'll be waiting a bit. You hold in a sigh as you look back at Joel Miller.

He's started peeling the label from his beer in tiny scratches. It's obvious to you that he's just as disappointed as you are that you're his date for the evening. Even if you two hadn't experienced the altercation outside you doubt he would have been your type: too serious, too hard.

Paul had been the opposite: open and funny and immediately putting you at ease.

Stop thinking about him.

You take another sip of your drink, deciding that while Joel is a shit blind date he's actually perfect for practicing on for any future dates. Ones that you may have with men who are a helluva lot more pleasant than he is.

Maria and Tommy are looking at their menus, obviously trying not to watch the two of you interact. But you can see Maria's eyes darting to you out the corner. You know that she’s silently willing you to make an effort with Joel.

"So Maria says you guys work for a construction company?" You look from Joel to Tommy.

"We own a construction company," Joel corrects, his dark eyes still glued to the label of the beer bottle he's picking at with a short fingernail.

Off to a great start.

Tommy joins in, noting his brothers' reluctance to keep the conversation going.

"Joel takes care of the carpentry and the invoicing. I'm more drywall and marketing," Tommy smiles wide and friendly at you. "We have a few other guys on the team that do the rest."

You already like Tommy. He's sweet and soft and judging by the way he's still holding Maria's hand across the table, he's very interested in her.

"Must be nice to be your own bosses," you offer, hoping that if you're complimentary that Joel won't tell them about your incident outside.

"Way better than the old subcontractor we had to work for before." Tommy takes a sip of beer, shaking his head. "That guy was such a dick."

Joel flashes Tommy a nod of agreement before looking distracted. You wonder if it's you doing it to him or the phone call he took right before this. When it's clear Joel won't be asking you anything, Tommy speaks up.

"And what do you do again?"

"I work at a humane society here in Austin," you say between sips of your drink. "The job doesn't pay great but I love animals."

You trail off noting that Tommy looks frustrated with himself. "Shit, that's right. Maria said that."

"Don't beat yourself up," you laugh. "It's not exactly the most memorable job on the planet."

Joel makes a little scoffing noise of agreement. As if his job is so much more enthralling.

You hold in a biting comment as the waitress approaches your table and this time you see her name tag reads Felicia. She's a pretty girl with bright red hair who clearly has interest in the man across from you.

"Bruschetta for the table?" Tommy asks with a glance in everyone's direction. You all nod because who would say no to bruschetta?

Felicia's eyes linger on Joel even as she takes everyone else's orders for dinner.

Good. She can go home with him for all you care. If anything she'd be doing you a favor.

The silence is back when she's gone and you can't miss the strained look passing between Maria and Tommy. You don't blame them; this entire experience feels tense and uncomfortable. Maria is subtly nudging you in the ankle with her boot, flicking her eyes from you to Joel and back again. The meaning is clear: make an effort.

Only for Maria would you suffer through this dinner. Only for Maria would you try to engage the stone-faced man across from you. You take a deep breath before forcing a smile in Joel's direction

"So, Joel, what do you do for fun?"

Joel looks as if he's getting the same amount of non-verbal grief from his brother because he straightens a bit, looking at you from under thick lashes.

"I hunt."

You cringe. Not even inwardly, you full-out wince at that. Hunting has always been one of those things you've never seen the point to in modern society. Sure, when food had to be hunted or families starved it made sense. But nowadays? It seemed barbaric.

And knowing what you do for a job, you're shocked at the lack of tact. Hobbies were a dime a dozen and that's the one he brings up?

Asshole.

He seems to notice your recalcitrance because that same cool appraisal is back on his face.

"And what do you enjoy?"

You don't miss the sarcasm in his tone betraying that he really doesn't give a fuck, but decide to answer him sincerely regardless.

"I read. I hike, I paint, I watch zombie movies."

Joel winces at that. "Can't stand 'em."

What a shock. Something else you don't have in common.

You almost feel like this entire date was devised just to make Tommy and Maria feel less guilty about being so in love and your feel a stab of resentment. Tommy seems to notice the tension building because he jumps in a little too eagerly.

"Joel plays guitar. He's really good."

"And you sing," Maria adds, nudging you again before looking at Joel and Tommy. "Her voice is so beautiful."

Both you and Joel answer almost simultaneously. "Not anymore."

Your eyes flick to one another in surprise before the meals are brought to the table by the far too peppy Felicia.

"Careful," she tells Joel with a purr. "Your plate is very hot."

"Thanks," Joel says flashing her a quick smile. You note the dimple in his right cheek when he does.

"What kind of animals come through your job?" Tommy asks, spearing a piece of chicken.

"The usual, cats, dogs, small animals like hamsters, ferrets," you list these off with ease. "With some of the other sites in we house sheep and horses."

"That would've been our dream job as kids, huh Joel?" Tommy says with a faraway smile. "Being surrounded by animals, helping 'em."

Joel gives an agreeing grunt by way of a reply, chewing his dinner with a frown. It's so obvious that he would rather be anywhere but here.

"It's not all dreamy," you answer, pretending Joel isn't even there. "I work at the main office so I barely get to see the animals. Most of the time I'm grant writing because we're so underfunded."

You frown, thinking about the difficulty of going into work knowing that you can't save every poor animal that crosses your path.

"Plus after the flooding last month the office is trashed, but there was this grant for office restoration." You talk excitedly, knowing exactly what you'll do with the money.

"Guaranteed that even if she gets the grant for the office reno's she'll put it all to the kennels they need," Maria says to Tommy but she's looking at you fondly. "That's why I love her."

You feel shy under the twin gazes of Tommy and Maria and you want to turn to Joel and scream: "See! I'm not as horrible at you thought! I'm not just a bitch who screams at people in parking lots!" but you have I'm feeling even if you did that he wouldn't believe you enough to care.

"Well, when you do get the grant, I know a great contractor," Maria says with a wink in Tommy's direction. Tommy blushes slightly in response, offering a quick nod.

"I'll definitely keep you in mind," you say to Tommy, stabbing your pasta with your fork. "Everything is so expensive to build; maybe you'll give me the 'Maria's best friend' discount."

Tommy and Maria laugh but Joel remains stone-faced.

"What about you guys?" You address them both but its Tommy you look at. "I don't know much about what you do aside from restorations like Maria's place."

"We have a few bids in this month," Tommy says through a mouthful of his chicken. "Really hoping for this one build at a military site, but the lead on it is kind of a nightmare. We worked with her once before. Needs to have constant meetings about every little thing right, Joel?"

Tommy looks over at his older brother.

"It's a good gig," Joel nods, sliding a piece of bread through the marinara sauce on his plate. "Kathleen's usually a dog with a bone, but pretty harmless overall."

He goes back to his meal, eating quickly. Tommy looks dumbfounded by his brothers behaviour.

Fuck this guy.

Yeah, you were rude to him in the parking lot. But that was just between the two of you. Now he's making it horrible for an entire table of people who are just trying their best to have a pleasant evening.

There's a faint buzzing and you watch Joel fumble for his phone, an old blackberry. He reads whose calling and excuses himself. You all watch as he leaves, heading for the exit.

"You sure he's not a drug dealer on the side?" You joke. "Last time I saw a guy react like that to a phone call he was selling weed outta his mom's basement."

Maria shoots you a grin.

"It's Sarah," Tommy replies with a glance after his brother. "It's the first time Joel's left her with a sitter that's not me."

Sarah? A sitter? Wait, Joel has a kid? That miserable jerk found someone to willingly procreate with? You don't remember that part of the information Maria gave you in the car.

"He's pretty protective of her," Tommy continues. "He's worried she may be a lot of work with new people."

With Joel as her father, you're hardly shocked. You imagine a little girl with serious dark eyes and a bad attitude.

"Has he been divorced a long time?" Maria asks, and you realize she knows very little about Joel as well.

"Almost four years, but apart longer."

You nod and the three of you eat quietly, listening to the sound of bland Italian elevator music in the background. Joel reappears a short time later, sliding into his seat as Tommy looks over.

"Sarah okay?"

"She's fine," Joel nods, his voice low and rumbling. "She just couldn't find toad."

"She has a toad?"

Joel's eyes slope over to you in irritation. "It's a stuffed animal."

"Oh."

"The sitter's a moron," Joel says to Tommy with a dark look. "Got her all hopped up on sugar."

"Connie isn't a moron, Joel," Tommy defends. "She takes care of her own mother practically full time."

You and Maria exchange a look as the brothers disagree.

"I shouldn't have left her alone with them." Joel is getting more agitated by the second; he's not even hearing what his brother is saying. "They have that old dog of theirs."

"She's fine, Joel."

"I shouldn't have come," Joel mutters as he pulls some cash from his wallet and drops it on the table beside Tommy's plate. "This was such a bad idea. Such a waste of time. I gotta go."

You say nothing, but the blood is rising in your cheeks as you stare down at your plate. You want to believe that Joel is leaving solely because of his kid, but a large part of you knows she's just a convenient excuse to cut the evening short.

"I'll see you later" Joel grumbles to Tommy before he's left the table without a backwards glance or a goodbye to you.

As he strides off you want to laugh. This entire evening has been a joke from start to finish. Tommy is shooting Maria a sheepish look of silent apology. Obviously the evening hasn't gone how anyone anticipated it would.

"I'm so sorry," Maria starts but you cut her off.

"It's fine, just exhausted from work. Mind if I just take off?"

"Of course," Maria looks inconsolable. "Just take the car, Tommy will drop me off later."

You nod, holding out a twenty to her that she won't accept. You pocket it after a brief goodbye to Tommy you head to the entrance of the restaurant. You only exit when you're sure that Joel's truck is gone from the parking lot.

/////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// ///////

You pull up to the house, thankful the rain has stopped. Maria's place is on a quiet, suburban street with identical lawns and mailboxes. She doesn't do much with the exterior of the home, but it's a nice navy blue color with bright white shutters. It feels especially welcoming after your horrible dinner.

You can't stop thinking about Joel. His miserable face and the way he practically ran out of the restaurant. You kick a rock angrily on your way up the sidewalk as you move towards the house.

"You look like Bill after Bush got elected."

Your eyes dart up to house next to Maria's. The neighbor Frank is standing there on the front porch holding a cigarette elegantly between his fingers

His home is a similar in shape and color to Maria's, but that's where it ends. Where Maria's house is plain, this house is immaculately kept with bright flowers under the windows. The door is a lacquered black and a simple green wreath hangs in its upper center. It feels sophisticated and welcoming all at once.

Frank gives you another sharp look, a smirk quirking his lips.

The first day you'd arrived at Maria's, your eyes puffy and dressed in three-day-old sweats, he'd sent over a basket of goodies with a note that simply said: straight men ain't shit, your neighbors Frank and Bill. You'd liked him straightaway ever since. He's funny and charming and never seems to be in a bad mood.

Maria has nothing but good things to say about him. Best neighbor she's ever had, according to her. You often find them on either side of the fence that separates their lawns, gossiping about things in the neighborhood. Frank always seems happy, always seems upbeat.

But right now you don't feel like being happy. You want to climb into bed and be sad.

"Just a bad night," you frown, pulling your purse further up your shoulder and moving towards your place.

"Where I come from, bad days usually call for a drink."

You've never been a drinker. You occasionally have beer with fish and chips in the summer. Hot chocolate with a splash of rum at Christmas. Sangria at dinner with a bad blind date. But you've been to Frank's before and you know that whatever they have will taste amazing.

Frank's eyes are playful as he watches you pause. You shuffle back in his direction, a wry smile on your face before you glance at his door nervously.

"Is Bill around?"

Dumb question. Bill is always around. Always frowning, always building something and muttering about elaborate anti-government theories you don't always follow but smile politely at. Bill makes you nervous, but then again, he makes everyone nervous.

"Basement," Frank smiles beckoning you with a wave forward. "If he comes upstairs I'll handle him."

You don't need much more invitation than that. You bound up the stairs to his place, placing your bag at the entryway and following him into the kitchen.

While the outside of Frank and Bill's place is beautiful, the inside is breathtaking. The color of the walls is a soft green, the wood stair railing boasts intricate details of florals and the piece de resistance is the gleaming black baby grand piano that sits in the living room.

You think about pressing one of the ivory keys as you walk by but stop yourself. Everything in this home is so beautiful, so wonderfully cared for that the thought of moving any if it, even a fraction seems cruel.

"Does Bill ever play for anyone?"

"He does." Frank is in the kitchen bringing two large wineglasses down from the shelf.

You roll your eyes. "You don't count."

"Rude," Frank says with an arched brow, but there's no power behind it. "If I get him liquored up enough he might be persuaded to play for an audience of more than just me."

You watch him pour the crimson liquid into the dual glasses before handing it to you. You follow him to the sitting room by the piano, your eyes glancing longingly at it.

"It's a Beaujolais," Frank says sitting across from you as he swirls his glass with the finesse of a professional sommelier. "Very fruitful with a few smoky notes."

You twist the delicate stem between your fingertips and peer into the glass. "Looks . . . Red."

Frank laughs at your unrefined palette. He and Bill and wine connoisseurs, their home stocked with all manner of wine and other spirits.

"You look especially dressed up," Frank offers warmly at the wine slips over your tastebuds. "Hot date?"

"If my date tonight is any indication of what's out there, I think I might just stay single forever."

"Was he really that bad?" Frank's handsome face is concerned.

"He's a grey sprinkle on a rainbow cupcake."

Frank laughs loudly, his head tossed back. You smile around your wine glass, secretly pleased you could elicit such a response.

"Was he cute at least?"

"No," you answer a bit too quickly.

Frank looks about to reply when the door to the basement is shoved open with a bang.

A stout man with shoulder length brown hair and a scraggly beard looks around the room wildly blinking, as if his large blue eyes are adjusting to the lights.

He's wearing an old grey sweatshirt, threadbare with holes in the collar. He's such a stark contrast to his husband whose facial hair is meticulously groomed, his patterned orange shirt pressed and smelling like expensive cologne. If you got close enough to Bill you know he'd smell like sweat and oil from whatever he's been working on downstairs.

Bill approaches you both, his eyes sliding to your figure at the table and frowning, the crease between his brows deepening. You raise your hand in a small wave.

"Evening, Bill."

"What are you doing here?" His eyes drift to your wineglass. "And is that my wine?"

"Manners," Frank warns with a teasing lilt. "And last time I checked, Bill, it was our wine."

"Yours and mine. Not hers," Bill grumbles as he lumbers over to the kitchen to pour himself a glass.

You assume he'll head back downstairs but he shuffles to the table and plops down next to Frank, the chair squeaking under him. Sitting next to each other they seem like such an odd pair, and yet when Frank absently moves hair behind Bill’s ear and they look at one another smiling softly, you think there has never been a couple better matched.

"Our girl here finally went out on a date," Frank says like a proud father.

"A blind date," you explain with a wince. "And a bad one. Almost makes me remember Paul fondly."

At least Paul had never insulted and then walked out on you in the middle of a crowded restaurant.

"Paul," Bill scoffs into his glass, shaking his head. "Idiot man-child."

You smile at this, appreciating Bills acerbic tone when it's directed at a common enemy. You take this moment of unexpected civility and indicate to the piano with your wineglass.

"Hey Bill do you think you'd ever play for me?"

Bill turns his hardened gaze on you.

"Not a fucking chance."

#fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller #fanfiction #dad joel miller #smut #pedro pascal

461 notes · View notes

dtrghost · 11 months

Note

omg this is my first time requesting but TF141 with a reader whose love language is insulting them ( they probably insult her back 😭) thank you!!!

That is so me. Literally.

Synopsis: TF141 With a reader who just can't help but insult them, yes. This contains Johnny, Simon, Price, and dearest Kyle

Warnings: 18+ Content and references to smut, cursing, etc

Simon "Ghost" Riley:

Now with this guy, it definitely goes both ways. At first he was confused and rather offended with the insults you threw at him, followed by your head falling back to laugh at what he thought was him. You noticed how he got upset and quickly reassured him that you meant no harm by it and that it was just how you showed you loved him. He found it weird at first, but he accepted it, knowing that he meant the world to you and simply followed along.

"Hey Ghost, maybe if you weren't so ass at shooting we wouldn't have to do this stupid training exercise." He huffed, rolling his eyes at your wheezy laugh as you put your sniper down for a minute, cackling loudly and hitting your chest to get some air into your lungs.

"Right, I hit your cervix pretty when I was fucking you like a slag last night." You gasped, both of your cracking up even more as you gently shoved him. Now, there's a downside to your language, because god forbid you crack a joke about him that he didn't like, especially when he was already mad to begin with, like after a failed mission, he'd be sure to let you know just where your bad mouth would get you.

"Just like that, my perfect little slut." He'd moan, fucking your mouth and forcing his cock deep into your throat as you gagged and choked around him.

"Put that dirty little mouth of yours to better use."

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish:

He didn't get mad, he first gave you a puppy look, thinking you meant the insults you threw at him. But when you took your time to explain yourself, he'd laugh it off and gave you the go ahead. Johnny had nothing to be insecure about, he was hot, he had money, and he was the youngest candidate to pass the SAS selection, so he took what you said with a grain of salt.

"Weird they call you soap, smells like you haven't used any in days." He just chuckled, wrapping his arms around you with a wolfish grin.

"Alright lass. I'll let you have that one." You had been right at the time, he just got back from a mission where he sat in the mud for god knows how long and then had to lug his ass to the landing zone in the rain. Don't get me wrong, he'll bite back lightheartedly, but he loves soaking up your love for him, even if it isn't the most conventional.

But when he's not having it, you get to see the less light, funny side of him. He'd been fucking you stupid, pounding into you madly with his hand wrapped around your throat. You begged for him to let up, your legs shaking as tears rushed down your cheeks.

"Sorry lass? Couldn't quite hear ya. Mind tryin' again for me?" And he'd squeeze tighter to ensure not a word was heard from you.

"This'll teach you to behave darling. Remind you to address your sergeant properly."

Captain John Price:

This man is a DILF. Hot damn. To be frank, he's a laidback captain. He's not going to overreact and threaten to dishonorable discharge you for insubordination and disrespecting a superior officer because you told him he had a small dick. At first he was a bit surprised how comfortable you were insulting him with his rank, but if anything he liked it. He liked a challenge, though it was an easy one for him.

"You never react ya know. Why is that? The rest of the team bites back and you just, take it." He chuckled at your observation, shrugging and shooting a quick glare at the man who almost took a sit next to you at the bar you both occupied.

"I know you like the back of my hand princess. The insults you throw at those soldiers are far different than the ones handed to me. It's love princess, all it is." He then relentlessly teased you about the deep redness in your cheeks which you countered with eye rolls and mocking faces, because he was right, and he knew that. He analyzed everything you've ever said and done to him, how your body reacts, how your eyes portray every intention and emotion you're sending him.

But, just like the rest. Sometimes Price had to fuck the brat out of you. You'd made a comment, and he was having a rough day.

"How's the sex life then? Old man like him able to keep it up?" Soap joked.

"Some viagra wouldn't hurt. Maybe it'd actually get me to the yellow brick road." DAAAAMMMNNNN. Was the essential reaction. Of course you drew back and told him you were kidding, but the tight grip he had on your waist was a tell tale sign that he didn't like what he heard.

"You sure about that love? Don't wanna take it back before it's too late?" He whispered huskily into your ear. He knew you wouldn't, he knew you liked being his dirty little slut.

"That's it. Taking your daddy's cock like you were meant to. You reach that yellow brick road yet love? fuck sure looks like it, you've made a mess all over m'cock already."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

You and Kyle fit perfectly, like a match made in heaven. It was like a challenge between the two of you on who had the better insults. He's incredibly intelligent, 500 IQ lookin ass. But sometimes you were just that much better, and he accepted that wholeheartedly, because at the end of the day, this was how you showed your love, and he wanted nothing more to embrace that.

Sometimes he'd even reward you. He'd get touchy (more than usual) and the day would end with him on his knees in front of you, worshipping your pussy and body like it's what he was made to do.

"I'm so lucky to have such a smart, clever girl like you. Fuck you're perfect in every way." And you were. Even if you could be the meanest fucker on the planet.

And that's it!! I'm sorry if it didn't meet your expectations or you had something different in mind but based off what I've read this is what I think they'd be like!! Thank you for the request @angieisbroke and I hope you enjoyed <333.

#fanfic #cod mw2 #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap mctavish #soap x reader #price x reader #gaz x reader #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley smut #johnny soap mactavish #price smut #gaz smut #soap smut

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rindough · 2 years

Text

cw. reader has a male ideal type

“so you like guys like that?”

you froze, flipping to your right to meet with the towering figure. with the white plastic poking out of the corner of his lips, satoru cocks an eyebrow, both hands in his pocket but his gaze’s fixated on the man in your phone.

tall... muscular...

with those raven locks of his alongside the small scar that adorns his lips, he could tell this man is probably the definition of a ‘dilf’.

you switch off your phone, forcing the man to direct his attention to you.

“uh...”

to be frank, you were fine with anyone and anything. but just like most people you have the so-called ‘ideal’ look for your future lover; still everyone knows that idealness leads to nothing, it doesn’t serve much except to feed into your daydreams.

the white haired man waits, watching as you stumble along with your words before putting a hand out, stopping you dramatically with a hurt look on his face.

“aw man! i get it, you do like buff men.”

“what?!” your eyes grew wide. “no...”

“if not, what then?”

“just...” if you were to tell him that this man was your ideal look of your ‘boyfriend’, would it hurt his feelings? satoru might not look like one to get easily hurt by such things, but what if he’s skilled in hiding it... hearing someone indicate you’re possibly not their ideal type is surely something a little unpleasant to hear.

yet, there’s no use in lying to him. lying solves nothing either.

arms crossed, satoru adjusts his lollipop with his tongue, moving it from one corner of his lips to the other, eyebrows rising up and down. “just?”

“he’s very handsome...”

“that’s all?”

what, is he not satisfied with your answer?

“uh yea?” you question him back, looking at the side before gazing back to his blue orbs. “i mean, c’mon what do you wanna know?”

“is he your ideal type?” your heart slows down a little.

“um...” he’s really going in for the shot, huh? then fine, so be it.

“yes but no!” you spilled out quickly, a hand up to gesture for him to wait. “i’d like someone to look something like that, but i’m okay with anything.”

did he hear you correctly? no wait, he did hear you correctly.

“YES!!”

you stupidly nodded along, grinning as you close your laptop shut. okay, you thought, wait. wait a minute-

“yes?” you asked.

“hm?”

“what?” you blinked at him, heart racing at his sudden outburst. “you said ‘yes’.”

“i did?”

“what the- you did!”

“what?” he teases with a hand on the back of his ear. your heart beats louder now that his face was close to yours. at this rate others might misunderstand that you two are dating — but you aren’t!

and satoru is very, very tempted to come nearer, his mind unintentionally goes wild, imagining thought after thought.

“gojo-san...”

what if he kissed you?

he’s darn sure no one’s in the IT lab right now, except the possibility of being walked into thanks to the open door. dare he leans a little bit closer, his voice merely a whisper. “so what if i did?”

would you reciprocate his moves?

that was another headache for him to deal with.

he loves the way you hitched your breath, except... now he’s the one hitching his breath when you decided to play his game.

his gaze flickers down to your lips for a brief moment at how dangerously close they are, knowing full well that another move will bring your lips to meet.

but what happens when they do meet?

should he put all his yearning for you into that one kiss?

his thought’s cut short when you push him away by his shoulder, a breathy laughter leaving your lips now with your back facing him.

you can’t let him see your flustered face, not now anyways.

you can’t lose — and neither can he.

want more? check out my master list!

#📝 — works!!#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru imagines #gojo satoru #gojo #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru drabbles #gojo drabbles #jjk #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles #jjk fluff

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bluexiao · 2 years

Note

omg your requests are open? i’d love to see fatui boys (tartaglia and scaramouche) reactions to reader like gushing about them to other people? i feel like they’d both have really interesting yet different reactions

#when you gush over them

–fluff; scara being the douche that he is (not to you ofc)

Pretty short my allergies are attacking me rn,, also my laptop is fixed miraculously idk how but yeah!

SCARAMOUCHE

Would be so embarrassed.

But contrary to anyone’s belief, he would not try to stop you.

He is no fool, of course. If it doesn’t hurt his ego, then he won’t. Most likely, it even boosts it the more you gush over him in front of other people or even to just other people when he’s not around.

He’s embarrassed that you’re doing this to him… but he also feels a sense of pride wash over him over the fact that you feel this way towards him and you did not care about what anything or anyone else would say.

If anyone would judge you for doing this, however, let’s say a subordinate of him, of course, he would not let it slip. They judge you, you judge him.

“Lord Harbinger… Are you sure… Y/n…”

“What?” He raises a brow, passing him a narrowed look that could most likely be a glare that could pierce like any dagger would, “What seems to be the problem for you to call my Y/n’s name oh so casually, Agent?”

Knowingly, the agent trembles from where he was, stuttering with “N-nothing, m-my lord. Y/-I mean, the lord Y/n very well praises the lord Harbinger, and it is good for your reputation, that’s what I meant…”

“Did I say you could speak?”

“I-“

“Throw him to the dungeons.”

“Lord Harbinger! Have mercy!”

TARTAGLIA / CHILDE

Would be so proud he’ll probably gush over himself more than you.

“Hear that? They’re really proud of me, aren’t they? I mean, why would they not?” He’d say with a smug smirk whilst his subordinates listen to his nonsense with a forced smile.

At first, you both will gush over him together but he gets pretttyyyyy annoying about it that you'll most likely get so sick of it halfway through the day.

After you have gotten sick of it though, he will be pretty whiny.

“Why had you betrayed me like this? I thought you really like me?” Somewhere along those lines. He’s such a dramatic man istg.

Well, to be frank, he is indeed genuinely saddened over the fact you’ve gotten sick of gushing over him—maybe you’d gotten sick of him?! Already?! Ah! No!

So do try to gush over him the next day or reassure him that everything is fine and there is no need to worry, he is easily pleased with anything you do or say.

Reblogs and comments are very appreciated~

TAGLIST (fill the form to be added/removed)

@softlybeloved @icecappa @sushiyay @scaraslover @beastielevi @rviden @thesatanofpizza @izayanna @stellumi @coco-goat-milk @nonniechan @m3gitsune @chuubear @kiyoobi @catisnerd @ventislatte @weakestpoint @pinkfeiry @aweebstuff @zhongchi14 @windwheel-aster @irethepotato @squiddaloo @scaramunch @cruxdou @favonius-captain @aqualesha @kazuhas-alphabet @astreankitsune @lordbugs @itsghostgirlyo @his-simp @meumorio @tkooooop @fiona782 @my-goldfish-is-not-gold @lisalanding @ezra0000 @extrakuli @kazu-topia @rayskyee @b1loop @kanattac @basicsofdying @windwheel-aster @serenenation @hadesgift @kazewhara @lilikags @solaaresque @yuremini @chichikoi @mooonluv @cloudysky0 @lunaeire @corlapisminer @hahakoharu @myrenbworks @brazilian-anon @k-a-z-u-h-a @kaeyaheart @irethepotato @disa-ster @hoshikistarlette @astrothighology @sinhasfluffyheadfur @nejibot @myaaki @kaedelove @nejibot @sarahyumiko2 @kaerui-kaisen @loyal-to-my-dilf @yaexure @random-names-stuff @yumekos-gamble @nejibot @emperatris-rinaka @starforecasts @dai-tsukki-desu @xiaogens @stygianoir @the-midnightskies @apricot-shark @genshinparty @katsumikumo @deathkat657 @bl6o6dy @aikochan4859 @q1ngx1n @scaramouchesfootstool @jaynahh @afchicken @theother-victoria @ynxalynx @ksjjkthpjm @nleedingwhiteroses222 @momoewn @mave-in @akinokisetsu @animexotaku @elianalovesu @dolfay @klawsblr @yuipersonalblog @yeonatingz @observation-subject-753 @yuuki4646 @shaneruarumonte-blog @vortxx @1one1person1 @koalaray @noragami-ghost @d-a-r-k-s-w-a-n @duskimoo @maya1-5-0 @csukcsuk @bleedingwhiteroses222 @jiminscarmex @ngwhiteroses222 @apric-t @kiolet-exe @kitsunekanojo @sherlyss @serenity_ren_bliss @yuki1s--note @sunniewrites @fiannee @magica-ren @kissventii @yur1x-1 @psycho-nightrose

#genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #childe x reader #scara x reader #tartaglia x reader #fatui x reader #genshin scaramouche #genshin kunikuzushi #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #blue's works

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shootingstarwritings · 2 years

Text

Hoppin’ Around

Though my life as a barista was fun, the days were starting to get old and long; kinda like a DILF although less appealing. Guess that was the curse of being born with a short attention span. Even without my frenetic soul attached to my weird brain, I still couldn’t enjoy being stuck in one place for too long. Luckily, being inside a barista made it easier to pick up guys that had their eyes on my tight, borrowed body. It helped that I often tried to shake my hips and bent over as much as I could. Fat asses were all the rage nowadays.

After slipping a guy my number alongside his coffee, I had a date planned for the weekend. To make sure that my host’s apartment was just right, I called in sick for Friday’s shift and got myself a nice nipple piercing and tattoo. There was always something sexy about leaving behind a mark of myself for those I was borrowing. Felt like I made an impact in their lives, and there was something special about that for me.

Finally, the weekend came by, and my date arrived wearing a tight shirt, loose jeans, and no underwear. His name was Frank or something like that, though that might’ve been the name or a past hookup or some shit. It didn’t matter to me. “I can be Frank if you want me to,” my date said with a dreamy sigh. He was quite the needy guy, but there was something so funny about what he said.

“Sorry, sorry,” I tried to apologize, “I’m trying to be frank and earnest as well.”

“Is Ernest your last name or something?”

I couldn’t help it at that point, I was basically busting a gut laughing. Punny conversations like that were my reason for living, I swear. He just looked bewildered, and I got worried that I ruined the mood too much. Transferring bodies was a bit harder without the sex, and nowhere near as enjoyable.

“Sorry, sorry,” I told him before wrapped my arm around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. “I just love guys like you,” I said. Stupid and horny hunks were absolutely my type. I made sure to tug at his cock a bit to get him back to the mood. Soon enough we were like animals in heat as he pounded my no-longer virgin hole. I stretched my legs and used them to pull him close as he plugged my ass full of cock. Not too long afterwards, he pulled out and came all over me. If there was ever any hesitation in me taking him over and using him as a fun ride, that guaranteed it was gone. The least he could’ve done is cream inside of me and make me feel real nice and warm

Still, I licked my lips and stretched my back. God, I was really wrecked. “Damn, your dick is huge, my guy,” I said, curving my back in the pleasure.

“Heheh, thanks,” he said, looking flustered.

“It’s gonna feel so good when I’m using it,” I said, interlocking his fingers with my own. A perplexed look crossed him face before he felt the sensation of my essence traveling from my hands to his.

“Oh, what the—fuuuuck…?!” The himbo cried out, body convulsing as a foreign presence invaded his body. His body arched into a tight C as he tried to wrest his hands from my slowly-loosening grip, but I wouldn’t allow him. I would never allow a nice hunk like him escape. He shook his head, “Lemme go…! This ain’t funny—woah! Oh my god,” his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his cock grew hard all over again as my spirit spread all over him. My previous body collapsed onto the bed, unconscious, as my new vessel came all over him once more. Must be a side-effect of the transfer.

“Mmm, not a bad transfer,” I said, chuckling to myself as I felt up my new body. “Oh yeah, I’m gonna wreck so many asses with this guy,” I said, flexing my arms. I looked down at my old body, wondering if I should clean him up or at least leave a not. But then I figured, not my goddamn problem. I shrugged and left the bedroom to look for some clothes before heading out.

Who should be my next conquest?

#male possession #possession #male body possession #himbo possession

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thebookbutterfly · 11 months

Text

°•. Joel Miller .•°

Fan fiction recommendations from BB’s Bookshelf. All my favourite Joel Miller works in one place.

ONESHOTS:

🦋 Sleeping Bag [Fluff] You can’t get comfortable in your sleeping bag so Joel invites you into his. << Gender Neutral Reader >>

🦋 Halcycon Days [Fluff] Joel never takes enough time to rest, so you make sure he has a nap while Ellie makes you both a surprise. Pure domestic fluff. << Female Reader >>

🦋 for you, anything [Fluff, Sick-Fic] There are two things that Joel does incredibly well: smuggling and taking care of you. << Gender Neutral Reader >>

🦋 Touch [Fluff, Hurt/Comfort] Joel is touch starved and you happen to love physical affection. << Female Reader, One bed trope >>

🦋 Blushing [Fluff] Ellie tries to convince Joel about how obvious it is that he likes you. << Female Reader >>

🦋 Neighbourhood Dilf [Fluff] Joel finds out he has a nickname and asks you what it means. << Female Reader >>

🦋 Matchmaker [Fluff] Ellie knows that Joel has feelings for you, and after annoying him relentlessly about it, decides to set you up. << Female Reader >>

🦋 That funny feeling [Fluff, Slight angst] Joel loves calling you all sorts of pet names. However, he doesn’t know how to react when you return the favour. << Female Reader >>

🦋 don’t take the girl [Slight angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff] You we’re convinced that Joel didn’t like you very much, until the day he offered up his life to save yours. << Female Reader, Age Gap >>

🦋 weakness [Fluff] An afternoon and Bill and Frank’s quickly takes an unexpected turn that leads to a confession. Joel’s feelings come to the surface. << Female Reader >>

🦋 night shift [Fluff] Tired Joel comes home after a late shift, trying to make ends meet. And he likes nothing better than coming home to you. << Female Reader >>

🦋 Are You Okay? [Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Fluff] You get an injured leg. Joel carries you to safety and tends to your wounds. << Male Reader >>

🦋 Earshot [Hurt/Comfort, Mild Angst, Fluff] After Joel was injured he fell unconscious. You decided to talk to him anyway. However, you weren’t planning on him hearing your confession. << Male Reader >>

🦋 here with me [Fluff, Light Angst] You had definitely had better days, but as long as he was here with you, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. << Gender Neutral Reader, Age Gap >>

🦋 clouded judgment/ clear mind [Hurt/Comfort, Light angst] Joel knows that you can take care of yourself. That doesn’t mean he’ll let anyone who hurts you get away with it. A.K.A. Joel loses control when someone hurts you. << Female Reader, Graphic violence >>

🦋 here with you [Fluff] A sweet night with Joel pre-apocalypse. << Female Reader >>

🦋 it will come back [Fluff, Mild Angst, Hurt/Comfort] Hit with a bout of insomnia Joel is driven into the arms of his sweetheart neighbour. The same woman he has been trying not to fall in love with for months. << Female Reader, Reference to sex, Things get heated >>

🦋 Bleach [Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Mild Angst] Joel can’t sleep, so you soothe him the way only you can. << Gender Neutral Reader >>

🦋 Mint [Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff] After Joel witnesses a woman being torn apart by clickers, he starts to wonder: What if it was you? He has a panic attack. << Female Reader, Panic Attacks, Anxiety, Descriptions of violence >>

SERIES:

🦋 Coming Soon!

DRABBLES:

🦋 Coming Soon!

#the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #tlou hbo #joel x reader #joel and ellie #joel the last of us #joel x you #joel x platonic!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #zaddy pedro

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mellow-killjoy · 1 year

Text

What gerard way eras I would trust with my drink

Links for the others

Frank Iero

Ray Toro

Mikey Way

Bullets era

I would trust this cute little guy with everything, he looks so sweet and innocent

Basement era

No, he's pretty but in an intimidating way, also not if he hasn't showered, he kind of looks like he'd spike my drink

Revenge era

Also pretty, but in a cute way, I would trust this guy with all my drink

Black parade

Not at all, I feel like I'd catch a disease just by looking at him, he took the whole sickly look seriously, and by that I mean he has the black plague

Danger days

This fucker looks like he'd drink my drink right after I'd ask him to hold it for a sec, like right in front of me, would just chug it, so I'd say it's a no

Brown haired gerard

(I don't know what time period this is but I think it's before 2014)

Yes, he looks polite, he would take my drink and do the whole hand cover thing just to make sure nothing happens to it

Hesitant alien era

He looks way too posh to even approach, I'd just get another drink tbh, he's like way above my social class

Reunion tour era

100% this is the face of a gentlemanly older man, like full dilf material, I think he's very trustworthy

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hailey-murdock · 11 months

Text

Lose you

Chapter 2

Paring: Matt Murdock x Fem!reader

Warnings:(for this entire series) Angst, death, illness, nightmare, established relationship, drinking, depression, use of pet names, fluff, implied smut, mentions of college Matt and reader(let me know if I missed something out)

Summary: Matt "the man without fear" may not after all be that. He fears he'll lose the person he most loves

Other characters: Foggy Nelson, Frank Castle

WC: 2.K

Tags: @little-miss-dilf-lover

A/N: Hello sweeties, I've decided to make a Matt Murdock series. There will be 4 chapters for this series. Grab tissues cause this shit is sad. (Reblogs, comment and likes are appreciated).

Matt wanted to keep holding you. He squeezed you as tightly as he could. He didn't want to let you go. He didn't ever want to lose you. You meant so much to him, and you were the most important person in the world to Matt. He never loved anyone more than he loved you. Matt sat with you on his lap and he continued squeezing your hand tighter.

"Matty, you remember how when we were in college we talked about having a home together?"

"Yes. I remember that. We talked about our first apartment together". Matt couldn't help but smile at the thought of one day moving in together, getting married and maybe even starting a family. "Is that what you wanted to talk about? We're gonna do all that one day. We're going to get a great home together. I promise".

You tried to forget everything and smile for Matt. "Yeah it was special....we even talked about spending the rest of our lifes together once we got married".

"I want all of that. I want to spend my life with you. I want to share every experience with you. I wanna have a whole life together with you sweetheart. Matt didn't even want to let your hand go from his grip. He wanted to keep holding you forever in his arms.

Matt pressed his soft pink lips against yours and held your jaw with one hand while the other was interlock with yours. "Are you feeling better? I'm here. You're safe. I'm always here".

Matt felt you nod slowly. "Yeah baby, I feel better now, thank you".

He smiled and gave you another gentle kiss. "You're the love of my life. And nothing in this world will change that. I love you. I love you so much. I'm here for you. I'm here always. And we'll never be alone again".

Matt hugged you even closer. He could sense and feel your beautiful face and your warm smile. He was lucky to have you. No matter what situation you guys were in, Matt would always feel lucky to have you by his side. Nothing could tear your love apart.

Four months passed by quickly and you're still doing treatments. And in those four months Matt had been by your side the entire time. He brought you to all of your treatments every day. Matt was tired but he wanted to make sure that you didn't feel alone. Foggy would even help him out in the office, he knew that you needed Matt's support in moments like these and who was he to deny that.

The last month Matt had felt very depressed. He was losing hope and he was struggling to stay strong for both himself and you. Your cancer wasn't going away. Was this it? Was it your time already? No, that's impossible. That would never happen, right?

Matt tried to shake it all away as he sat next to you in the hospital bed. As much as he tried to stay hopeful for you, he couldn't help feeling terrified and scared every time he saw you. The doctor came into the room saying he had news for us.

"I'm deeply sorry but the cancer has spread out quickly and there's nothing we can do. We don't know how we didn't notice this before but in some cases this happens. I can tell you this, you have about 3-4 months left. I recommend you to spend time with family and friends and say your goodbyes. Once again, I'm truly sorry, I'll give you two a moment to process this".

Right after the doctor had told you that the cancer had spread out, your body went numb. Everything faded out, the only thing you could hear was your thoughts racing all over the place. How? Wasn't the treatment going well? It felt like your soul had left your body.

Matt started crying as the doctor left the room. His whole heart broke into pieces. He felt as if the whole world was crashing on him. This can't be happening. This isn't real. You weren't going to die.

"No". Matt kept repeating. "No, no, no". This wasn't fair. Why you? Why not someone else? Anyone else? You deserved the entire world. You were the greatest person he ever met. You were beautiful, caring, strong, and you never hurt anyone. Why? Matt couldn't get through his head why a person so innocent was going through this.

After a few minutes the doctor returned to the room and told us that you should do everything you've ever wanted to do in that time and he sent us home. You didn't trust your voice to say something to Matt. You didn't say anything to him after you had received the news. As You and Matt walked home, your silence was louder than anything. He held your hand and he just kept crying.

This wasn't fair. None of this was fair. It was your life. You deserved to live it. You didn't deserve to die so young. Life was so unfair, and so cruel. Was this a punishment from God to Matt for all the mistakes he's made in his life? If Matt wasn't going to hell, then is this his hell? To live without the woman he loved? Why did God have to be so cruel with him? After all Matt was his soldier, right? What did he do wrong?

The both of you walked towards your apartment, which you both had bought right after you had found out you had cancer. Matt opened the door and helped you into your home. You guys went inside and he sat you down on the couch.

"What do you want to do?"

You didn't respond and you just sat there numb. Matt just sat with you. He held you tight and kept crying. He didn't want to leave you alone. And he just didn't even want to think about what was happening. Matt was just so terrified and broken. He just tried to focus on feeling your heartbeat, to focus on the positives. Matt didn't want to think about what the doctor had told you.

"You're strong, sweetheart. You're strong".

"I think I need to be alone for the rest of the day". You say to Matt as you get up to leave the apartment

Matt started to shake. He didn't want to lose you. But he could see that you wanted to be alone. You deserved to be alone. Matt wanted to give you the space and support you needed. "Alright."

He didn't want to leave you alone. But he could feel how much you needed to have some time to yourself. "Please...you can let me know if you need anything and I'm always here. Okay?

You nodded as you left the apartment to take a walk and you did for about an hour but after a while without realizing it, you were at a church.

You were never a religious person but once you stepped inside it was different. Of course you would go to mass with Matt on Sundays but mostly for him, not because you actually wanted to go and worship God. You went in front at the altar and prayed and prayed to god if there actually was one to save you from your misery and that if he didn't to, then just to take care of Matt once you were gone.

After you were done with your prayers you talked with Father Lantom and after a few hours you went back to the apartment.

Matt was just sitting at the kitchen table, feeling depressed. He felt as if everything was crashing down. All he kept worrying about was losing you. You meant so much to him. Every day and every night, Matt lived with the worry that he'd lose you. He would cry his eyes out and would just have panic attacks when it felt like it was getting worse.

After a couple of hours, he heard someone knocking the door and rushed over to open it and he was shocked to see you. "You're...you're back soon. Are you okay?"

"Yeah". You smiled softly at Matt since after going to church made you feel calm. "I'm okay, I just needed a bit of time to myself".

Matt put his hands on her shoulders and he smiled back at her, feeling glad that she was alright and calm. "I'm glad you're okay. I was scared there for a moment. I'm just happy that you're back". He pulled you into an embrace and he felt calm as he felt the warmth of your body radiate onto him.

Matt felt his heart warm as he took a moment to hear your heartbeat, feel you in his hands. To just be able to have you back with him.

"I love you so much. We'll get through this together. I'll be with you through it all. And I'll always be here. Always. You're strong, sweetheart. You're the strongest person I know".

A tear fell down your face at Matt's words. You didn't need super hearing to know if Matt's heart skipped after what he said to you, you knew he would never lie to you. "Okay now enough of this sad stuff, let's do something fun!". You didn't want to think any more of the inevitable, you needed to forget everything.

Matt smiled and he squeezed your hand.

"Yeah, you're right. My baby deserves to have some fun. Anything you want to do. I'm always here. I love you". He gave you a warm smile. Matt wanted to make you feel good in any way he could. He wanted to lift up your spirits. He wanted to just do whatever would make you happy.

"You know what's something I've realized that we haven't done in quite a while Matty?" You say in a teasing voice and Matt could feel the smirk on your face.

"What's that sweetheart?" Matt looked at you with curious eyes. He didn't know for sure what you wanted. But he couldn't just sit h

there. So he raised his eyebrows, Matt shook his head and he gave you an excited look.

"What is it, love? Tell me".

Matt lowered his head down with a look of hope and love on his face. Hewanted to make you tell him whatever you wanted to ask. And he was ready to agree to anything that you wanted. Matt put his arms around your waist and he kissed your cheek.

"We haven't made love to each other Matt. We both love each other deeply but tonight I want to show you how much I love you". It was a need to show Matt how much you appreciated everything he had done the last few months for you. You loved Matt and you would always love him.

"You're right sweetheart, I haven't shown you properly recently my love towards you. But don't worry, I plan to make my best girl feel good tonight. I want to give you all of me. You were made for me. I just wanna love you forever. P-please let me show you". Matt usually never begged in the bedroom but this time was different. The circumstances had changed and it had been a while since the two of you had sex. And he planned on making this night one of the best nights of your life.

Matt knew in the back of his head that before what was to come, he was gonna marry you. Matt was going to keep his promise that he made to you back in college, marry you. Until death did you apart.

Matt's hands roamed to your waist, gripping softly but yet firm your hips, as his lips met yours. He felt the softness of your sweet hands go to his neck and jaw as the kiss you shared was filled with love, happiness, passion and desire. The next thing you know is that the both of you somehow made it to your shared bedroom with your clothes on the floor and small whimpers and whines filled the bedroom. All that mattered was you, Matt and your love.

Previous: Chapter 1 | Next

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #matthew michael murdock #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fluff

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mychemicalrachel · 6 months

Text

Thanks so much @zephfair and @lizpaige for the tag! This was fun 😊

How many works do you have on ao3?

60 total. 18 as MyChemicalRachel, 31 under the pseud MonsieurBlueSky, and 11 posted anonymously 😎

What’s your total ao3 word count?

930,700. I'm sooooo close to a million!

What fandoms do you write for?

Right now just TRC/TDT, but I’ve dabbled in a lot over the years.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Crossfire - Teen Wolf x Supernatural crossover where Stiles is Sam and Dean's cousin.

The Long Way Home - Sterek fic where Derek is a dilf.

Just A Spark - wherein Stiles is ace and a stork delivers a Sterek baby.

Fast Times At Clairemont High - yet another Sterek fic. Stiles goes undercover at the school where Derek is a teacher.

Magnetic - Pynch! And Rovinsky! And lots and lots of angst!

Do you respond to comments?

😬😬 Look. I try to. Most of the time I don't know what to say, but I love getting comments and I cherish them all!

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oof. I used to write a lot of angst. Probably Forever. It's a MCR/Frerard where Frank goes to an NA meeting and tells the story of how Gerard died.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I don’t know if I'd consider it the happiest ending because I write a lot of happy endings, but I think Magnetic has the most cathartic ending. It's a big ball of angst so the happy ending has a bigger payoff.

Do you get hate on fics?

Oh yeah, for sure. Not so much now that I've made my fics private, but it happens 🤷‍♀️

Do you write smut?

Yes 😌

Do you write crossovers?

Yeah! I love crossovers! It's fun to take characters I love from separate fandoms and put them in situations together.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I'm sure they didn't consider it stealing, but yes. I found out that someone was translating a bunch of my WIPs and reposting to a different site without my permission. I love translations, don’t get me wrong, but I like to keep track of where my fics are posted and who is posting them.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yep! I've got some Teen Wolf fics in Russian, French, and Spanish. There's a Portuguese translation of Magnetic. And a bunch of my old MCR fics have been translated to Russian.

Have you ever co written a fic?

I.... do not play well with others. That said, yes. I co-wrote a MCR fic years ago and it was a bad experience because we were making up the plot as we went along and the other writer was more invested than I was since I was drifting away from that fandom, I lost interest halfway through and just wanted it to be over. And I'm currently working on a pynch fic with @iammistressofmyfate which is already a better experience than the last time 😘 I like collaborating and sharing ideas so I wouldn’t be opposed to co-writing again in the future, I think it would just have to be the right person and the right idea!

What’s your all time favorite ship?

I mean, right now I would have to say Pynch. They've got a great dynamic that I keep finding myself drawn back to.

What’s a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

It pains me to say.... the Pynch track AU. It was a meet cute friends to lovers AU where Adam is on the track team. I just sigh every time I open the word doc so I don’t know if I'll ever get around to turning my outline into an actual fic 😮‍💨

What are your writing strengths?

Characters. I have a knack for making even the worst characters likable and I'm good at making them complex.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Action. I'm so bad at writing action scenes where so much is happening at once and there's a lot of movement.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I usually don't just because I'm afraid I'll butcher it.

First fandom you wrote for?

Asking Alexandria 🤘🤘

Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

That's a hard one. I haven’t even posted all of it, but probably Love & Lace. I was able to incorporate humor and feelings and character growth along with some top tier smut and I'm really proud of it 🥰

Ahhh I never know who to tag on these things so @singersargentboi @uncannycerulean @deerna @beautifulcheat I haven't seen any of you do this yet! 💕

#tag game #❤️❤️❤️

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konigsblog · 9 months

Note

Thinking about the fact that Frank Woods was born in 1930 and is like, 51 in the most recent game he’s just straight up a dilf 🤭 like actually

Pretty sure Adler’s only in his 40s but still 👀 we love old men

absolutely, we love older men on this blog (especially the fictional with issues with their temperament and anger, a little bit toxic to put us in our place.. 🤭)

love men in their 50s, especially with a corruption kink!!! 😵‍💫 drives me wild and insane, i'm crazy over them..

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auteurdelabre · 6 months

Text

Something to fight for (series) (PART EIGHT)

Word Count: 4.5

Pairing: Dad!Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n, no age or physical descriptions)

WARNINGS: None for this chapter unless you wanna be warned about adorable mother hen Joel Miller.

A/N: This is part of a series (lots of angst, pining and smut ahead) Also despite Sarah's young age Joel is early 40's in this because slightly grey babygirl DILF Joel is the best Joel.

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

"Whadda you mean you ran?"

"As in I yelled I was leaving and then took off into the night."

Frank sits across from you at his table with an intense look of shock. It's the next morning after 'the touch'. Bill had listened to the start of your story but had grown weary midway through and excused himself to the basement. Frank had been only too eager to listen. Practically skipping in excitement when you'd ask if you could talk to him about something important involving Joel.

You'd needed to talk to someone about what had happened, but Maria was off the table. You can't confess this to her, you couldn't do anything that would put her in Tommy's relationship at risk. You'd never seen your friend so happy and so in love. And you can't be the one that jeopardizes that with your actions.

"Did you like it?"

"Huh?"

Frank rolls his eyes as you stare at him. "Did you like him touching you?"

Should you tell the truth? Tell Frank that your dangerously close to falling hard for Joel Miller? That there's a strong possibility that you already have? That you wake up from filthy dreams slick between your thighs and calling out his name?

No. You want to keep that secret to yourself.

"He's not unattractive," you offer after a beat. "Just not my type."

Frank stares at you for a long while with a face that clearly reads he doesn't believe you. And yet he doesn't press you on it.

"Are you gonna call him?"

"And say what?" You defend. "Hi Joel, sorry I took off after you touched my mouth?"

"Well you can't just not say anything," Frank reasons.

"Sure I can," you insist confidently. "I'm just gonna pretend it never happened."

///

That was your great plan. Pretending.

At least that was the plan.

But then later that day you'd seen Joel's number pop up on your phone and you'd panicked. For three days this happened. Every time his name lit up your phone the same rush of emotions overtook you.

A feeling of elation because you really, really like Joel.

A deep sense of dread because you really, really like Joel.

Do you want Joel? Fuck yeah you do. You can admit that to yourself now without denial. It's not just a silly crush borne of carnal need. You actually care for him. You like making him laugh. You like doing stupid domestic things like straightening his tie and cleaning his dishes (sometimes).

He's caring and sweet and funny and he loves his daughter so much. When you're with him the world seems better and brighter. And when he touches you, a hand hold, a side hug, an accidental graze of his knuckles, you feel like you're on fire from the inside.

But this is exactly what happened with Paul. A friendship completely decimated by a romantic relationship. Joel and Sarah mean too much to you, you can't imagine a world in which they are not part of your life.

The fact of the matter is if you start a relationship with Joel there is always the chance of it ending. That's how relationships work. When you care for things they shatter. Things you love don't tend to stick around. You know this from experience.

Not that you love Joel or anything. You just really, really like him.

It doesn't help that you've had a brutal headache since that night you ran away. And an ache in your bones that makes you feel tired all the time.

Your head is still pounding on Tuesday when you walk into work feeling irritable. You don't expect to see Joel at your work moments later. He greets Alex politely and then walks quickly over to your desk without pause.

"Your phone broken or somethin'?"

You stare up the length of him, your throat going dry.

"Huh? No."

He nods when you don't offer anything else. You see how his mouth thins and his eyes narrow. He looks like he's going to say something but then he just sighs, shakes his head and moves from you, bypassing your desk to go into the green space behind the building. Alex observes this but never mentions it.

He works diligently and you don't watch him once. You don't peek through the blinds even though everything in you is roaring at you to do so.

After going back and forth about it for an hour you decide that you need to talk to him. You need to clear the air. If not for you then for Sarah. You won't take the chance of not seeing her again because you fucked up things with her dad.

You pour water into one of those cheap waxy cups you have and saunter out into the back. The weather is mild yet joel is wearing his favorite jeans and a tight green t-shirt with the logo of a band you've never heard of.

Joel’s working quickly. You can tell it's because he wants to get away from you and this job.

"Thank you for coming out to finish," you say, your head swimming as you hold the cup. He's standing not that far from you, tightening the beams that lay parallel over the top of the cages and yet it feels are oceans apart.

He's not looking at you; his attention is completely invested in what he's doing. You lower the cup to your side. You survey the work he’s done, knowing that before Christmas arrives there will be a home for at least 8 dogs in need of rescue.

"You've done an amazing job," you offer awkwardly.

"Thanks."

"You and Sarah have a good weekend?"

"Yep."

“Go to the park?”

“Nope.”

He's hammering quickly, too quickly in an effort to get done faster. And when you step a little nearer he sees it out the corner of his vision. Distracted by this, the front of his hammer smashes brutally into his thumb.

"Fuck!"

Joel growls, holding his hand and curving at the waist. He hisses lowly as his hammer is dropped to the ground. You act immediately, running back into the office and putting some ice from the freezer into a small plastic bag you'd been holding batteries in.

You rush back out, stumbling over your feet before handing the bag to him. He's straightened, looking at the bag you offer with derision. After a moment's hesitation he takes it, pressing it to his throbbing hand.

"You okay?"

"Its fine," Joel grouses looking irritated at you. "Can you just leave? I'm-"

"No." You hold the word in your mouth even after it's said. "I want to talk to you about ... The night I was over."

His eyes dart to your office window and his voice drops, obviously concerned that you'll be overheard by Alex.

"Don't need to," Joel says surprising you. He doesn't look angry anymore. If anything he looks panicked.

"But we should, shouldn't we?"

"I made you uncomfortable," Joel reasons with a heavy sigh. "Shouldn't have touched you like that."

I wanted you to touch me like that.

How can you possibly explain that to him? That liking him so much makes it so frightening? That you want him to touch you everywhere but that will mean huge changes that scare you?

You have to. He needs to know.

"Joel-" you begin, but he doesn't hear you, he's so caught up in what he's about to say next.

"It was stupid and I won't do it again. Can we just let it go? Not mention it again and pretend it never happened?"

Your entire midsection is squeezed painfully at his declaration. But you're so tired, so overwhelmingly exhausted in both body and mind.

"I know it was fucking weird of me to do," Joel continues on in a murmur, rubbing at the back of his neck in an action of shy embarrassment. "And I don't want this to fuck up what you have with Sarah. She's wild about you."

And there's the crux of it: Sarah.

The girl that brought you together and is now ultimately keeping you apart. She doesn't know this of course and she never will. But her mere existence complicates things in a way that terrifies you both.

You give a shaky nod. And while you hate what he said, you can't deny the honesty of it. He's right; you would never do anything to jeopardize that.

"Yeah, of course."

"Great."

A wobbly smile comes to his face and satisfied that things have now been cleared, Joel thanks you for the ice and says that he's going to get back to work.

You leave him on trembling legs.

Your headache worsens as the day goes on. Only now it's accompanied by what feels like a fever even though your body is shivering cold. You pull on one of the disposable masks the veterinarians use when they visit here. You don't want to risk getting Alex sick.

By lunchtime you don't even have enough energy to answer Alex when she asks you about the adoption papers for Fairfax.

You need to go home. Now.

The bus seems impossible and a taxi will take too long to get to you. You want to leave right now and it seems you only have one option. Alex needs to stay here to keep the place open. So it's a hastily working Joel Miller that you approach for the second time that day.

He's facing away from you, clearly intent on his work. You have the passing devastation that once he's done you'll have even less opportunities to see him.

But that's for the best, remember?

You're swaying slightly and your hand trembles as you tap his shoulder

"Joel, could drive me home?"

Joel twists around, immediately on edge and his eyes dip to the mask you're wearing. "What's wrong?"

"I think I caught a bug," you explain from behind the mask. "I'm so tired and I gotta go home but the thought of taking the bus just seems so. . ."

You can't even find the word to describe it. You just want to sleep. You feel sluggish and Joel begins to pack up his tools as you watch from under heavy lids.

The animosity from this morning has fled from Joel's features. He stands and is about to reach out and grab your hand to steady you when he stops himself. You only see the indecision cross his features before his free hand is shoved into his jeans pocket.

"Let's go."

The truck jostles you more than you recall in previous trips. It makes your stomach jump and your head pound. Joel keeps sporadically glancing over at you with worry etched in his features.

"You look awful," he tells you suddenly.

"Thanks," you reply with a half-hearted sneer he can't see under your mask. You're too tired to find a witty comeback.

"I meant you should go right to the doctor," Joel explains. "I'll take you."

"No!" You almost shout this with a deep frown. "I don't- just take me home please."

Joel is surprised by your reaction. He can't stop noticing the waxy look to your skin, or the sweat that's dotting your hairline. You're breathing shallowly and he's concerned that he can hear the start of a wheeze. He wants to reach over and take your hand in his. He wants to bring you comfort. He wants to hold you. He just wants you.

Even after how things ended a few nights ago. Even after he told himself that you were a tease. Even after he realized it wasn't true and that you simply didn't want him. He still wants you. But you'll never know that.

Sarah will always come first for him and you are someone she loves so much. He can't risk losing you over his own desire for you. Especially when it was clear that how he felt was not completely reciprocated.

There's a part of him that knows you must be attracted to him. The part that remembers the way you'd looked at him that night. The way your eyes had shuttered as his finger traced your warm lips.

But that doesn't matter. Attraction isn't enough.

Your reaction had shown him that you weren't ready for him anyway. Running away like you had? Not talking to him for days? As much as this hurts it shows him he can't put his trust in you like he wants to.

When the truck arrives at your place he considers if he should just let you walk to the door yourself.

"Thanks Joel."

Your voice is a rasp, your cheeks flushed. You groan as you take your seat belt off and before he can stop himself he's launched out of the truck, pulling your door open and helping you down.

Normally you wouldn't let him; you'd cite that you can get down perfectly fine yourself. But today you lean heavily into his arms, your forehead briefly touching his chest as you come to stand.

"Sorry," you mumble. "I'm so fucking out of it."

Joel hates himself for how much he relishes that you coil your arm around his bicep, leaning your head against him as he guides you to your place.

He hates it more though when you stumble across the threshold of your home and out of his touch.

"Do you never lock your door?" he marvels, standing at your doorstep and watching you.

"Uh, sometimes I forget," you admit sleepily.

Joel enters your suite with the same trepidation of a man hunting flesh eating zombies in those movies he hates. He hangs back by the door, as if tethered to it. You don’t know why but you don’t mind him entering into your home. It doesn’t feel strange or even unsafe.

"You can come in all the way if you want."

He scans the perimeter, moving his boots quietly across your floor. It's a studio and he can see your bed with its hastily made sheets from where he stands. He swallows the knot that forms at his throat at he sees this. This is where you sleep. It smells of you, he's certain of it. Sweet and warm. Do you sleep naked? He’ll never know. Joel glances around the space as you go to your dresser and gather your pyjamas.

He’d only gotten a glimpse of your place when he’d dropped off flowers that day and now being entered into your brightly colored sanctum has him strangely elated It feels like he's crawled into your brain. Bright vintage movie posters hang on the walls. A pile of yarn sits on the coffee table beside your record player. He's intrigued to see what’s in your vinyl collection but he holds himself still, his fingertips rubbing against one another nervously.

A navy sofa with striped black and white pillows adorn a navy chair by the fireplace catches his eye. The rug is multi-colored and done in some Scandinavian style. He's surprised that in all of this, there are no personal photos he can see.

"Feels like it should be bigger judging by the footprint," Joel frowns, instantly in contractor mode.

He catches you rolling your eyes at him before you move to the bathroom to change. You need to get out of your restrictive clothes and into something soft and cool.

"It's nice," Joel offers awkwardly. He internally chastises himself.

I didn't used to be this fucking awkward, did I?

Nope. Not until you touched her and she ran.

"You have any Tylenol?" Joel bellows to be heard through your closed door.

"Yeah," you shout back before popping a few into your mouth and running your mouth under the tap.

You exit, surprised to see Joel still standing in your kitchen awkwardly, as if he's waiting for permission to leave. You're so tired that you're wobbling, your eyes barely open. He scans your body openly, his focus on the soft grey shirt you’re wearing and something niggles in his brain. He pushes it out, motioning to your bed.

"You should lie down."

Joel looks so concerned you want to laugh. He's such a girl dad sometimes.

"Yeah, was gonna do that. Thanks for the ride."

Joel is still standing there watching you, looking so tall and out of place in your studio suite with its low ceilings and cheap furniture.

Why does he have to look like that? So big and beautiful? He smells so good and you just want to kiss him so badly.

Maybe you could just kiss him right now, a thank you for driving you home?

No. Wait. That might be the fever talking.

"You want soup or somethin'?" Joel's voice is tinged with concern and his hands keep twitching at his sides. You frown because the thought of food right now upsets you before drawing over to your hastily made bed.

"No," you yawn pulling yourself under the covers and nestling into the pillows. "I just need ... some... sleep."

You're out cold before the sentence leaves your mouth.

///

You feel like absolute shit.

Maria keeps popping in to drop off food and take your temperature even after you shout that it's unnecessary.

She encourages you to go to the doctor, but you know it's just a cold. You just have to wait it out. You're not going to the doctor.

After not eating, sleeping most of the day and just aching all over, a cough develops. It makes it hard to do things like walk or breathe.

After three days Maria forces you into the shower, scrubbing you clean and changing you into new pyjamas. She changes your bed sheets all the while threatening that she's going to call an ambulance soon if you don't get better.

You promise her that you'll look into a doctor's visit tomorrow but you have no intention of doing so. You just want to sleep.

You receive a knock on your front door that you're too tired to answer so you just shout, praying that the person on the other side isn't a murderer.

"Come in!"

The unlocked door is pushed open with a creak and Joel is standing there holding a brown paper bag from the deli. It smells like turkey soup and it makes you want to heave.

"Thought you'd like this," Joel explains watching you wince at him from your bed. He enters into your home, placing the bag on your table before looking over at you.

You're curled in your bed shivering. You just want him to go away. You want everyone to just leave you alone so you can sleep. You're so fatigued you don't even flinch when the back of his wide hand rests against your forehead.

"You're still burnin' up."

"It'll go away," you murmur, your eyes still closed languidly.

"No it won't," Joel says sternly from above you. Your eyes are closed so you can't tell but you can only assume he's giving you his trademark grumpy frown.

"I've survived a long time on this earth, Miller."

"It's been four days and you're getting worse."

Has it really been that long? Fuck, you had a feeling it had been a bit but four whole days of steadily getting worse? But now you're embarrassed to admit to Joel that maybe you were wrong.

"I don't need your help," you grouse with no power behind it.

Stop being so stubborn. Just let me take care of you.

The desire to do so is killing Joel. But he holds his tongue.

You're not his.

You can hear him moving things in your kitchen before shuffling over to your bed.

"Take these."

He shoves the Tylenol into your palm, forcing you to sit up as you throw them back. In his other hand is a glass of water he insists you finish before he allows you to lay down again.

"I sure hope you're not wearing your boots in my place," you grumble. Joel doesn't reply but you're pretty sure you hear him toe off his boots by the front door.

When you wake up an hour later with a sputtering cough and heaviness in your chest that won't let up, Joel slaps the side of your sofa that he's been sitting on and announces its time.

"For what?"

"A doctor."

///

You're wearing mismatched pyjamas under an oversized sweater. Your shoes are half on as you hadn't even bothered putting them on all the way. You'd just slid your feet in before trudging alongside Joel to his truck.

It's late in the day so your only option is the emergency room. You tried to fight him on it, insisting tomorrow was better. But he’d gripped you gently by the waist, shoving you towards the door and you found yourself too exhausted to deny him.

His muscled arm around you the whole time you sit in the waiting room is not how you had envisioned being held by Joel Miller. Your vision had tangled limbs and a lot of dirty talk.

This version is you pulling down your mask and coughing into your elbow between fits of lolling back against his shoulder wheezing as fatigue and a mighty headache overwhelms you. You still wear the mask, terrified of passing on what you have to Sarah who Joel tells you is staying with Tommy while he sits here with you.

"You're gonna be okay," Joel murmurs to you over and over, holding you upright against him. You wonder if he's saying it more for you or for him.

After all, with you dead he'll be out a very good babysitter.

"Troy Johnson?"

The nurse is calling up the older man to your right. He's holding his arm tightly to him, probably nursing a sprain. Joel watches him leave, a tic starting in his cheek.

"Doesn't even seem that sick," Joel mutters.

"I'm sure he is," you defend instinctively through shallow panting. It's natural; you always feel the need to defend others.

"It's bullshit."

Another half hour passes with Joel growing increasingly agitated. He still holds you to him, but with his free hand he's tapping his knee.

It's only when you burst out into another wet hacking cough that he seems to be at his limit. Urging you to lay back he removes his arm from around you and stalks to the nurses’ station.

An older Filipino woman is writing something hurriedly between talking to her co-worker about a patient upstairs.

"We've been here over two hours," Joel says, not even bothering to be polite.

"I'm sorry but you need to be patient," the frazzled nurse says. "We have a lot of people waiting to be seen."

"But she's really sick. Her fever is-"

"Joel!" You croak from your position hunched over the chair. "Just stop. It's fine."

People who are waiting to be seen are looking between you two. Some of them are sneering others are rolling their eyes at the display. In your already fatigued state it makes you feel much worse.

"It's not fine," Joel insists and now his voice is picking up in volume as he speaks to the nurse while pointing at you. "She's really fucking sick and-"

You jump to a stand, impossibly humiliated by his behavior.

"Joel!"

He stops at your shout, turning to face you. You're about to shrilly tell him to shut the fuck up and sit back down when sparkly dots pop into your vision and then suddenly the world goes black.

////

Joel has always had something of an irritability problem when he’s stressed. He knows this about himself, he tries to keep calm in situations and most of the time he's successful.

But you pale and sweaty and wheezing in his arms has him furious. Furious at the people who sit around you looking much less sick than you are. Furious at the medical staff who don't seem to care. And if he's honest a bit furious at you for not taking this more seriously at the beginning.

But when he sees you crumple to the waiting room floor, his fury is replaced with an almost debilitating panic. He dashes over, pulling you into his lap with trembling hands. You're out cold, your body limp and heavy.

"Wake up," he urges, pushing your hair back from your sweaty face. He doesn't think, can only feel the bubbling chill of panic going through his veins. He presses his forehead to yours, his eyes shut.

"Fuck, hun, please wake up."

"Sir," the nurse is there pushing him back from you. "Sir, give us room so we can help your wife."

All of a sudden there are voices and people and they're putting you onto a stretcher. Your face is so placid, your mouth slack.

And then suddenly you're gone.

///

No, you're not dead.

'Gone' as in you left the waiting room.

You think I'd be telling this story if you were dead?

///

You wake up much later, your mouth surprisingly not dry given the circumstances. You realize this is due to the IV in your left arm pumping in fluids and antibiotics.

You feel a hammer of dread hit you as the familiar sights of a hospital room come into view. You want to rip the IV from your arm and you want to run from this place but something stops you.

A sight that brings you immediate peace.

Joel is there dressed in new clothes and sitting in a chair at the side of your bed. He's looking out the small window of the hospital room, sighing heavily.

A feeling of serenity flows through your body. A silent confirmation that when Joel is here everything is okay.

"Joel?" Your voice is crackly from disuse. His head snaps to face you and a relieved smile hitches the corner of his mouth. He stands, curving beside your head next to the bed.

"About time. Thought you were gonna go into a coma."

"Why is my throat so sore?"

"Oxygen thing," Joel says tapping the tube You hadn't realized was resting against your nose. "Went in through your trachea first."

"Thanks for the update Doctor Miller," you say with a smirk.

He's about to reply when the real doctor enters the room. An older man with a gleaming bald head and glasses that perch high upon his narrow nose. Joel gets out of his way going back to sit in the seat.

"Pneumonia," the doctor informs you sternly after introductions. "Left far too long by the looks of it."

You duck your head a bit embarrassed. "I just thought it was a bad cold."

Joel gives a mighty eye roll from his seat as the doctor nods at you.

"Are you aware if untreated it can be fatal?"

No. You didn't know that.

You can see Joel shooting you a supercilious look from behind the doctor and can almost hear his inevitable twangy "told you so."

"Lucky he brought you in when he did," the doctor says as he motions at Joel before tapping on his pager. He has so many patients to see in so little time. "Any longer and you might have been put on a ventilator. Next time listen to your husband."

He exits the room with promises that you'll be able to return home before the end of the week.

You don't bother telling him that Joel isn't your husband. You feel hazy and still quite out of it.

You’re asleep before you realize that Joel doesn't correct him either.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #dad joel miller #joel miller #pedro pascal

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franks-unholy-confessional · 2 months

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dilf frank makes me go fucking CRAZYYY. his arms holy shit i need him to rail me into next week

Oh God, please always get me started on dilf Frank and his fucking arms. You’re definitely not the only one who’s a total WHORE for him.

Thinking about getting home after a long day and Frank meeting you at the door, grabbing your face and kissing you so urgently that it leaves you breathless. Not even able to say hello before he’s back at it and moving down your neck, kissing-sucking-biting, leaving delicious bruises in his wake. Yelping in surprise when he picks you up out of no where and goes straight to your room and drops you on the bed. Crawling over you and caging you in, covering your body with his.

God, his hands would be everywhere before he finally pushes into you and fucking moaning perfectly, totally blissed out. Leaning down on his forearm planted right next to your head, his other hand pushing your thigh back, fingers digging in when he gets you bent into just the perfect angle that makes it feel like he’s so impossibly deep that you sob in relief. Hitting every perfect spot.

Turning your head and pressing your face into his thick perfect arm with a particularly good thrust-grind. Moaning at his gorgeous fucking whine when you get a mouthful and bite. His hips losing rhythm for a moment before starting back even harder and faster than before. Feeling his facial hair scruffing against your neck when he buries his face into you. Biting just as hard and whispering all sorts of filth into your ear. Telling you how good you feel, tight around him and tighter still every time you clench when he grinds against you. Telling you what a good whore you are for him. How perfect you are for him.

His fucking voice breaking as he gets close and almost fucking begging when he asks to make sure you are too. And fuck if you haven’t been trying to hold back until he came.

Anon please. You’re trying to kill me, I swear to God.

-ChronicArsonist

#redacted frank iero #f.i.l.f. filth #franks unholy confessional #f.i.l.f.#unholy confession #minors dni #chronicarsonist #redacted #anon unholy confession

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jevilowo · 6 months

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Could you please give me a brief summary of the plot of the bendy and the ink machine series?

Oh boy bendy lore!

Okay so this loser Joey started an animation studio with this dilf Henry. Henry did all the fucking work, and they released their first cartoons with the characters Bendy, Boris and Alice.

Henry left for reasons that are unclear, as far as I'm aware. Some say he was drafted for world war 2, others say he just quit to get married. Either way Joey threw a pissbaby tantrum and decided to do weird shit.

He hired more guys to the studio: notable ones include Sammy Lawrence (musician), Susie Campbell (voice actress for Alice), Norman Polk (ran the projectors) and Wally Franks (janitor). Some unimportant guys were hired but I'll get to them when i get to them.

Some stuff happened at this point in the timeline, but all of that was in the books and I have not read the books. The important thing is that there was a guy called Buddy. Moving on.

Joey, being the idiot he was, decided to hire a guy to build a theme park yay. The guy was called Bertrum and he didn't like Joey but he liked theme parks so he got building. Tragically, Joey went fucking bankrupt before the thingy finished. Tragic.

Moving on, the reason Joey went bankrupt was this thing called the Ink Machine. The Ink Machine was built for him by a guy he hired called Thomas Conner. It was at first meant to be like a 3d printer that made shit out of ink, but then Joey decided it would be silly and goofy if it could create life. Anyway.

All this bankruptcy gave his accountant severe anxiety. His name was Grant Cohen, and despite the fact he only has one voiceline I think he's babygirl. Anyway, he drowned in ink.

Speaking of such, Sammy Lawrence from earlier started drinking ink and fucking losing it. He nows praises our lord and savious Bendy Christ.

Susie the voice actor gets fired because Joey decides he's found a better va in this girlie called Allison. Allison proceeds to get hitched with Thomas Conner of the ink machine building. Slay.

Eventually, all the ink pretty much destroyed the studio and Joey started pushing people into the ink machine. They emerged mostly as Lost Ones and Searchers (humanoid inky blobs) and then Joey fucked off to do God knows what. He ended up with a niece anyway, who I'm pretty sure got later retconned into his daughter.

Years later, Joey sent a letter to Henry telling him to come back to the studio, so he does. I won't explain the entire gameplay but I'll summarise the important shit.

CHAPTER ONE: Henry sees the ink machine. At the end of the chapter he gets chased down by the Ink Demon, a feral bastardised version of ya boi Bendy.

CHAPTER TWO: Henry meets Sammy Lawrence, who calls himself a prophet and acts insane over Bendy. Henry also finds a voice recording made by one Norman Polk. At the end of the chapter, Henry gets kidnapped by Sammy and then Sammy gets mauled by the Ink Demon. Fun. Henry then meets a real life version of Boris. Cue chapter end.

CHAPTER THREE: Boris is the ink version of Buddy from the books, though this isn't stated here. It's theorised Boris was originally supposed to be Wally the janitor before a retcon, but that's neither here nor there. Anyway, Henry meets Alice Angel (insane ink version of Susie the jilted VA), does some shit for her (which includes being forced to steal hearts from The Projectionist, the ink version of Norman with a projector stuck on his head), has to evade the Ink Demon (who now has the abiltity to randomly spawn near you) and after all that Alice kidnaps Buddy Boris. Rude.

CHAPTER FOUR: Henry runs around a mini Bendyland, fights Bertrum Piedmont (who is now a massive fucking carousel because ??), watches Norman get torn to pieces by the Ink Demon (rip) and eventually unlocks a haunted house ride. He rides through and has to fight a fucked up version of Boris (Brute Boris). Oh yeah, Alice likes to murder Borises whenever they spawn so she can steal their "perfect" ink. She kind of has a complex because half her face was fucked up by the Ink Demon one time. She uses the "perfect" ink to heal her face. Anyway, you eventually kill Buddy Boris (rip). Alice runs at you, but gets macheted by... another Alice and Boris?

CHAPTER THE LAST: This Alice and Boris are Allison the replacement VA and Thomas (Tom) Conner the builder of the ink machine. They lock Henry in gay baby jail and leave you to die. Rude. At least they give you a magical glass thing that lets you see hidden messages on the walls. We don't know who's writing them. More on that later. Henry breaks out of gay baby jail, and rides a boat to a village inhabited by Lost Ones and Searchers. Sammy reappears for some reason, gets slaughtered by Tom and then you have to fight a bajillion pissy Lost Ones and Seachers. Blah Blah, at the end of the chapter you stick a reel on for the Ink Demon because "he has been there for the beginning, but never the end" (????), it flashes a bunch of "the ends" on the conveniently placed TV screens and he evaporates.

PROLOGUE I GUESS: Henry wakes up in Joeys apartment, noses around a bit (the notice board claims Wally, who left at least one voice recording in every chapter, got out alive and has grandkids, good for him) (it also claims Allison and Tom got out and got married, oddly enough) and then is lectured by Joey and told to step through a door. The door leads to the beginning of chapter one. Timeloop!! Hooray!!! (Said while barely containing rage)

So the Bendy lore ends in a timeloop. I'm pretty sure it gets broken in the Dark Revival, but I haven't played it yet and am trying to avoid most spoilers.

The secret messages are able to be viewed on playthroughs after your first, but we still don't know who's leaving them. The two most popular theories are Bendy (a sort of Jekyll and Hyde-ish theory, where he can be normal sometimes and write messages on the walls) and Henry himself (it's implied he loses his memory in the loops, claiming to see his old desk in both chapters one and five, making him leaving himself messages and forgetting about it pretty likely. Also, at the very beginning of Chapter One there's a bunch of hidden tally marks. Left by Henry every loop?)

Can't think of much else non Dark Revival and Book related I may have missed. I should really read/play those at some point. Hope this helped!

#batim #batim lore #lore #batim theory #ig

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