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exquisiteserotonin · 9 months

Text

Word Count: 4.5K

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Summary: After an altercation Ellie has at school, Joel visits you to have a talk

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ only (MDNI, PLEASE), angst, some violence, coarse language, brief talk of losing children and spouse (if this triggers you), Oral sex (Fem receiving), Squirting, PiV sex, Hurt-Comfort sex, Creampie, no use of y/n

A/N: Not-beta'd. I wrote this very, very quickly a few days ago when I was in some kind of incredibly weepy, hormonal mood or perhaps it was the full moon. Either way, that is why there is so much angst. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to share it today, but here we are. Real tears were shed during the writing of this fic. I'm a wife and a mom, hence why there is talk of reader once having a husband and children (Sorry, if that's not your thing or if you cannot relate). This generally follows canon except that Ellie and Joel are more fully integrated right away to the Jackson community.

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Take My Love, Take it Down

Screams, cries, and murmurs filled the freezing Wyoming air. A sharp pain took hold of your chest, creeping up your neck, and over your back as the sounds reached your ears. It sent you in a wave of memory and panic and was followed by the constant crunching of snow under a few shuffling feet. Clutching your chest, you took a few deep breaths as your charges came running towards you calling out your name. Well, your last name anyway. As their teacher, they didn’t get the privilege of knowing your first name.

“She punched me!” One of your older students cried out as a few of his peers pushed him forward presenting him to you.

You winced as you saw blood streaming down his nose, mixed with cold tears that were falling down his face. Other children watched with intrigue as you pulled a few tissues from your coat pocket, bringing them gingerly to his face, gesturing for him to hold pressure to his nose.

“Who punched you, Carter?” You asked as holding gentle hands to his pale freckled face.

He and several other students pointed in the same direction, fingers towards your new student, Ellie. You saw her standing a few yards away, her coat disheveled, the knees of her jeans scattered with dirt, and her face red from the cold, but also, mostly, from her anger. A sigh escaped you as you put your hands on your hips. Gently, you gestured for your other students to return to recess while asking your assisting teacher to bring Carter inside to clean up.

“Ellie, could you come here please?” You requested, beckoning her over with what you hoped was a welcoming gesture.

“It wasn’t my fault, he started coming at me telling me what I should do and how I should be and I--,” her voice was fast and full of rage and pleading.

“Ellie, stop,” you stated, a natural calm imbued in the tone of your voice, “let me see your hand.”

The last words that fell from your lips must have been the perfect disarmament, since her response was to hold her hand out to you immediately. You pulled another tissue from your pocket and began to wipe away remnants of blood on her knuckles. Upon closer examination, any injuries she may have sustained were minor especially compared to what she had inflicted on Carter.

“Carter can be a little much, can’t he?” you added, keeping your gaze on her. “I’m sure whatever he said or did, you've every right to feel the way you did.”

Her eyes lit up in relief at your words. It was a familiar look that you had seen before from your students. The look that lit up when they thought they were about to get away with something. You stilled yourself, holding back emotions that began to well up within you. It was a familiar look you had seen from your own children.

“But just because someone wronged you doesn’t mean that your automatic reaction should be to hit them.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ellie shouted at you. “This place sucks, with all your peace, love, and harmony shit.”

“Ok, you know what? You need to go inside, Ellie,” you stated, somehow retaining your calm. “In fact, everyone we all need to go inside; recess is over, time to get back to work.”

You waved for your students to line up, while pointing at a space directly in front of you with the expectation that Ellie would take the lead. Begrudgingly, she did, the remainder of the students falling in line behind her.

As you trudged through the snow back to the school house, you turned to Ellie, “I think I’ll have to talk to Tommy or Maria about this.”

“Why?!” She snapped and then added, “Just because they got me in here doesn’t mean they’re family.”

“Well then, I guess I have to talk to Tommy’s brother,” you countered, “Joel, right?”

“Go ahead and do it then,” she retorted, “but he’s not my dad either.”

You shrugged but nodded, listening carefully to her words. You never mentioned anything about him being her dad. You just knew that they’d shown up at the gate and were now the newest residents of your quiet community.

Your one-room classroom buzzed with the chaotically happy energy so often found in a classroom. Thankfully, the rest of the day went without incident. Having students from a very young age to teenagers was not something you were used to. It brought a different kind of chaotic energy that was, at the very least, interesting to observe. The mix of pretend play from your youngest students and the giggling gossip from your oldest students represented life in a world that felt like nothing but death. That’s what everyone told you, anyway.

They didn’t even need to tell you, really. You saw it in their eyes; the way that children and their parents greeted you on the street with their eyes crinkled at the corners with joy and gratitude. It should have made you happy. It made you happy in your life before this. Sometimes you wondered to yourself why you were teaching again. No, most of the time you wondered why you were teaching.

You replayed the memory of how it happened as you walked home.

First Maria asked you.

“No, I don’t think so.”

Then Tommy asked you.

“No, I really don’t think I’m the right person for the job.”

Then Maria and Tommy asked you.

The exhaustion that overcame you from their consistent requests eroded what little resistance you had. Their arguments and evidence were hard to defend against especially since you’d been a teacher and that the children in the community loved you. Out of some strange sense of obligation, you refrained from telling them that each day you were just going through the motions. You were like a robot completing an assigned task. Because doing, thinking, or feeling anything else was just too painful.

You reached your home, a cozy little cottage that was more than enough for you. As you closed the door behind, you felt a tight pain in your chest similar to what you felt this morning. You strangely thought of Ellie, then thought of your boys, then your husband. It rose to your throat and it was suddenly hard to breathe. You rushed to the kitchen, filling a glass with much needed water.

A loud knock on your door had you startled. Grabbing a pistol from a kitchen drawer you made your way to the door. The knock came again.

Looking through the peephole allowed you some relief when you saw a familiar, rugged-faced man, with salt and pepper hair standing at your door. It was Joel Miller, Tommy’s older brother and Ellie’s apparent caretaker. You opened the door, pistol still in your hand.

“Hello, I don’t think you’ll be needin’ that,” he gestured towards your gun, “though I won’t hold it against you if keep it nearby.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry” you nodded, “force of habit—please come in.”

You gestured for him to have a seat at a small round dining room table. You placed your gun away in a nearby drawer, observing Joel as he looked around your house. You winced as his eyes settled on a photo of you, your husband, and two children. Reluctantly, after his brief overview of your home, he moved towards your dining room table.

“You’re probably wonderin’ why I’m here,” he said, taking a seat and spreading his legs in a way that you could only describe as hyper-masculine.

You clenched your teeth beneath tightened lips as it spurred inexplicable feelings discomfort and disgust. They prodded at you simply because you had noticed.

“Surprised, yes,” you said, trying to hide the trembling in your voice,“but I think I know why.”

“Ellie gave that boy a bloody nose.”

There was something in his voice, in that Texas drawl that sounded almost like…pride.

“Yes, I know, I was there,” you acknowledged in exasperation, “I’m sure she had her reasons but I don’t think it warranted violence, Mr. Miller.”

“Joel,” he corrected, “I agree, but you have to understand where she’s comin’ from, ma’am.”

“Alright, Joel, can I get you some water?” you offered. “Please don’t call me ma’am, it makes me feel old.”

You gave him your first name along with a glass of water.

“Ellie’s been through a lot,” his voice was hushed and gravel-like as he gave his excuse, “you can’t hold it against her for tryin’ to stand up for herself.”

“Joel,” you said calmly, tapping into the part of your brain where you held the voice you used when talking to parents at conferences, “we’ve all been through a lot here, doesn’t give us the right to start punching people in the face.”

“You don’t know how good you’ve got it, though,” he continued, incredulously, “sittin’ pretty in your perfect little town, with your perfect little job, in your perfect little house---you don’t really know what’s out there right now.”

“What?”

Your hands began to tremble at the words, traveling up your arms, to your neck. It was as though someone lit a burner inside you and your blood was the fuel. Red and hot, like living lava from the volcano of you, it threatened to erupt.

“You haven’t seen the things that I’ve seen,” he grumbled, standing up to pace around your home, his right hand trembling, “or done the things I’ve done.”

“What do you want a medal ‘cuz you’ve smuggled shit and killed some people in the process?” you scoffed and advanced on him. “You know, you roll up in here, saying you’re here for family and you come in to my house, Ellie’s teacher’s house, making excuses for her to bash another child’s face in and you expect me to give you sympathy because you’ve got people’s blood on your hands that you chose to spill?”

“I did what I had to survive,” his voice grew in volume as you stepped closer to him, “and I’m teaching Ellie to do the same.”

“And I am doing exactly the same thing,” you growled at him.

The way his left eye twitched and the way he moved his jaw told you that he wasn’t expecting that answer. Beyond your control, you felt tears start to sting the corner of your eyes. A sudden feeling of helplessness and shame overcame you as felt the sudden urge to explain yourself to a man you had only known in passing for a few days.

“I’m not stupid, Joel; Maria and Tommy are my friends, my good friends,” you spoke, not moving from where you stood. “I know what you lost and I know you know…”

The hatred you felt for yourself amplified as the tears fell freely from your eyes. Your view of Joel was blurry from your tears as you tried to find your words again.

“I know you’re not stupid, I saw you looking at my photos, so you know what I’ve lost,” your lips trembled and stumbled at every word. “I have nightmares all the time and I see them--and how I had to l-leave my, my boys.”

A broken shell of you was all that was left. Maybe Joel was right, maybe you were just a broken shell in a perfect town, with a perfect job, in a perfect house. All of it perfect from the outside, but none of it real. You drew your hands to your face trying to stop the tears from falling from your eyes as Joel stared back at you. You spotted a flinch here and there as he tried to gather the knowledge to comfort you.

“I’m sorry, I--,” he said as he reached a tentative hand towards you, but you shook your head and finally took a step away from him.

“This is how I’m trying to survive, Joel, to try to make things better, but I’m just---just fucking it all up,” you said through tears. “Everyday, I’m doing this job that your brother begged me to do and everyday I wake up and it’s never real. And these kids, they’re depending on me and asking me to help them with the simplest things and I can’t; my chest hurts and I can’t breathe, and I fuck up, and I fail, and I lose everything.”

The tears were falling so freely now that you can’t even see Joel. All you heard is how loud the silence is, louder than the tears and labored breaths that are escaping from you. You tried to mumble something unintelligibly to Joel. An apology. An explanation. But you’re certain it just comes out in even messier sobs. The next sound that floats to your ears is the creaking of your floor beneath Joel’s booted footsteps as he moves towards you and unexpectedly grabs you by the arm to wrap you in the tightest embrace that you’ve felt in the longest time.

Tears stained his leather jacket and shirt as you cry into his chest. He spoke nothing. His comfort came in the rise and fall of his chest as he breaths, in the way that he somehow manages to understand to caress the back of your head and your hair, and in the way that his hands rub your shoulders as he squeezes you tighter as if doing so might somehow expel some of your pain. And somehow it did, if only just a little bit. It was enough to allow you to wrap your arms around his waist in return. Your hands explored his back, rubbing up and down to give him back some of the comfort he had given you.

Everything is still dark behind your closed eyes that are still buried in his shirt. With one quivering exhale, you managed to look up to find him looking back at you. His eyes that were tight with stoicism and anger when he stepped through the threshold of your door had changed. Round, soft, deep brown, and glossy with the onset of tears. You knew them like an old friend because they were just like yours, because they’d seen the same horror and felt the same pain. You took your hands from his waist and cautiously brought them towards his face, learning more with your eyes before he gave you the slightest nod as a form of permission. With your fingers, you gently caressed the wrinkles on his forehead tracing down to his temples until you wiped away the tears that had managed to escape from the corners of his eyes. You held your hands at his cheeks, keeping hold of his gaze with your own. He brought his hands to grip yours, rubbing his thumbs on your wrists before his fingers met your forearms with a touch that was beginning to awaken something inside you.

“I reckon we’re more alike than we are different,” his words were a cathartic confession.

You nodded, uncertainty still circling around you as you caressed his face and began to lace your fingers in his dusty-colored hair. It seemed to be all the permission he needed to dive forward to kiss you as he held your face gently in his hands. But you needed more, as quickly as he had moved in to kiss you, you began to peel his jacket off his broad shoulders, throwing it on a chair at your dinner table. A determined, almost dangerous stare filled his eyes as he discarded the flannel shirt beneath his jacket. You pulled off your sweater and blouse in one skillful move, tossing it without a worry as to where it landed. You were left standing before him only in your jeans and bra.

An obvious hunger had taken over you both, as he lunged at you grabbing you by the waist and pulling you in for a kiss less chaste than the last. Your lips held onto each other, tongues exploring and tasting each other through the remnants of salty tears. You hooked your hands into his belt loops, grabbing him by his ass to push his hips towards yours, feeling his cock beginning to twitch and harden with need.

“Bedroom,” you commanded breathlessly.

He nodded and then lifted you as you leveraged yourself against his chest and shoulders as you wrapped your legs around his waist while he kept his mouth on yours. He threw you on the bed, eliciting a quiet yelp as you bounced on the firm mattress. You shifted yourself further up the bed as he crawled towards you. Pushing yourself up to your knees you moved towards him pulling him to you by his shirt with desperation.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you sighed, gently pulling it over his head.

He smiled and let out a breathy chuckle. It was the first time you’d seen him smile since the moment he reunited with Tommy when he and Ellie first arrived in town. This was different, of course: a little playful and a little dirty and something you hoped, at least in the moment, was just for you.

“Sorry, y’know it’s winter,” he chuckled again as his lips were back on you.

His hand cupped your breast and then his mouth traveled to your shoulder. You lowered your back to the bed, allowing him to come down with you, his arms pushing himself up on either side of you to get a better view for him to admire your body with his eyes. With a gentle touch of your finger nails, you caressed his forearms and triceps. Your eyes studied the broadness of him and how his chest looked especially strong as he propped himself over you.

“I’m gonna apologize, ya know, before we---,” he warned quietly, “it’s been a little while.”

“I reckon we’re more alike than we are different,” you whispered, repeating the words he spoke moments before he kissed you.

Faster than you could think, he was on you again, somehow expertly unclasping your bra as he rolled with you in your bed sheets. You helped him unbuckle, unzip, and pull off his jeans, laughing as he clumsily kicked them off with his boxers somewhere on your carpeted bedroom floor. With an involuntary bite of your lip, you admired his large, uncut cock as he moved towards you, this time helping you unbutton and unzip your jeans. You lifted your hips as he slid your jeans from them, taking your underwear with them tossing them on the floor to join his.

You stared at each other for a few moments, drinking in the view of each other’s bodies, maybe even holding a picture of it in your head to keep as a memory to hold on to forever.

“You sure ‘bout this?” He asked, giving you one more chance to make a smarter, level-headed decision.

“Joel, please,” you implored, your fingers dancing in his hair, “I need this, need you.”

He brought his face close to yours, first pressing his lips to your forehead in a sweet kiss before giving you an equally gentle kiss on your lips. Everything else he did with his mouth however, was anything but sweet and gentle. He led with his tongue, first at your neck and then between the valley of your breasts until he tasted each one, swirling his tongue around the pebbled surface, lightly biting at them with his teeth. The anticipation of where his tongue was leading left you panting. The softness of his lips paired with the coarseness of his mustache and facial hair was the perfect contradiction. Your breath hitched as he kissed your mound, stopping there long enough for you to panic about what he would do next.

“Joel, is everything ok? Is there…is there something wrong?” You propped yourself up on your elbows to look down at him.

“Not at all, sweetheart,” he murmured his voice full of marvel like he’d seen a dream, “just admirin’ the view.”

You smiled and before you could say anything else, his mouth was on you. You closed your eyes and threw your head back, as he worked on you first with a broad lap of his tongue through your folds. He works through them at a torturous pace, pitiful moans echoing through your quiet bedroom. And then he moved faster as he savored you, finding your clit poking at it first with a pointed tip of his tongue until he took it between a tight purse of his lips, sucking on it furiously until you cried out for him to give you more. He swiped a few more heavy stripes down your folds until his lips are on your clit again, sucking and humming, the vibrations making your already sensitive center weepingly wet.

“Oh god, god, Joel,” you moaned, your hands grasping at his hair, “I haven’t felt this good in so long.”

You cried out incoherently as he chuckled and returned his attention to your clit, maneuvering two fingers in and out of you as his lips continue to suck and vibrate on the most sensitive part of you. He continued to move his fingers in and out of your folds at an agonizingly fast pace. You whimpered helplessly, crying out his name over and over as he worshipped your cunt like his own personal idol. The pressure from his mouth intensified on your clit as his fingers pulsed in and out, in and out until you cried out seeing stars. A hot gush of liquid came out of you covering his face and hand, dripping onto your ass and onto the sheets beneath you.

“Shit…fuck, Joel, Joel!” You wail, clutching at the sheets from your orgasm.

He let go of your clit with a gentle kiss that makes your body jolt from overstimulation. Your body was still writhing from your climax, your breaths were still fast as you tried to bring yourself down. Opening your eyes, you lay in a misty daze as Joel crawls towards you, wiping his face and facial hair with the tips of his fingers and the pad of his thumb, taking one last lick of your essence. You hadn’t seen anything so erotic in years and you pulled him close, your chests pressed together as you took him in a long and sensual kiss.

“Oh sweetheart, we made a little mess,” he growled as he positioned himself over you.

“I--I forgot I could do that,” you said, still coasting on the high of your last orgasm.

Joel breathed out with a low and sexy, but at the same time sheepish. You looked at him, seeing his cheeks slightly pink with a mixture of pride and humility.

“Glad I could help you remember,” he replied with a smirk,that quickly changed into a heavy groan as you pumped his girthy cock. “Fuck sweetheart.”

“Need to feel you inside me, Joel,” you pleaded, bucking your hips up to his.

“Yes, baby,” he grunts as you wrap your leg around his thigh.

With a sudden urge you sat up and held him close, kissing him fervently and rolling over him so that his back was on the bed. Your fingernails gently scratched his expansive chest as you straddle him. His eyes gleamed with anticipation that evolved into pure pleasure as you lowered yourself down onto his cock, unable to keep from moaning with the feeling of him stretching you. You bounced on his cock and grind on him with the tightest of circles.

“Oh, fuck, Joel you feel so good,” you cried, your pussy fluttering with each bounce.

“Come on, baby,” he groaned as he started to buck his hips up into you with the same rhythm of your bounce. “Keep ridin’ me, you feel so good.”

Moans and slaps of your skin are all that fills the air in your room. You grabbed at his thighs, feeling ecstasy with each bounce. To your surprise he sat up and grabbed you by the waist, thrusting into you and rolling you over so he’s back on top. For a brief moment, his cock left you and you felt suddenly empty. He settled over, pushing your bent legs up towards your chest. The pad of his thumb easily found your clit again and with a few slaps of his cock at your folds, he was pushing into you again. His hips rocked into you in a new found depth and pace as his thumb continued to circle your bundle of nerves. In this position he felt even wider than he had before and your heart and mind raced with each desperate thrust Joel made. That magic feeling began to will within you again as Joel’s pace became faster and faster.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I don’t think I can hold on much longer,” he growled through thrusts, grabbing your hips tightly and angling them upward.

“Oh god, Joel, please, baby,” you cried, knowing you were right there with him. “Take what you need, baby, please take what you need.”

Neither of you could speak anymore. You’d evolved into an orchestral union of bodies, reaching out for each other and crying out each other's names with each grind, push, and thrust. And like dying stars, you exploded together in your orgasms, crying out praise and gratitude for it all and each other. The way his cock pounded in and out of you so easily and how it mingled with your sticky sweetness took you away for a moment. You began to shake uncontrollably and pulled his face close to yours.

“Oh fuck---I, sweetheart---” was the last thing he moaned before looking to you for a final answer to a question unspoken.

“Come inside me, Joel, it’s OK,” you assured, shaking as he gave one, two, three more thrusts to fill you up with him before he whimpered into the crook of your neck.

You collapsed together on your bed, a tangle of heavy breaths and intertwined limbs. For the longest time, you bathed together in your naked silence, pulling up your quilted comforter over your bodies that were starting to get a little cold from the tiniest bit of winter air that you could feel through the walls.

Through closed eyes you listened to Joel’s heartbeat through his chest where you had rested your head. He had taken your hand and rested it there, gently caressing it with his. More little comforts came to you in the form of him nuzzling your hair with his cheek and kissing your forehead. You could fall asleep like this, but being awake was more fulfilling in every possible way.

“Hey,” you heard his voice whisper as he caressed your hair and then your shoulder, “you asleep?”

“No,” you murmured, waiting and wondering about his next words.

“I’m sorry about Ellie,” he apologized.

“Mmm, it’s okay,” you replied and then added, “just give her time, she’ll find her way.”

Heart beats and deep breaths and caresses between words.

“I think so,” Joel’s voice was rough but more resolved than how he had spoken when he came to your door, “I think with your help, she will.”

You smiled, feeling tears again slip from the corners of your eyes, a cleansing exhale leaving from your lungs. “Thank you for the vote of confidence.”

He shifted, squeezed your shoulder, and brushed your hair out of your face until you were looking up at him.

“Hey, baby,” he said softly and then kissed you, his fingers caressing your skin, “you take what you need.”

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #the last of us hbo #juice bar collective #juice collective

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nerdieforpedro · 6 months

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WIP Wednesday

Last week’s post was long and there’s not much in the way of new WIPs so much as I need to actually finish the ones in my fanfiction folder. (Yes I have a folder. They don’t need to be in with the taxes or my school papers.)

Hopefully I’ll finally finish a very late Kinktober post I had planned with Oberyn Martell. A snipet of it was in my WIP Wednesday post from last week. It’s my first time writing him. I did have two people beta read it and they told me I’m on the right track, but do you ever really know until the track is done?

I need to apologize to Frankie Morales and Javier Peña for neglecting both their multi chapter stories. I haven’t been able to think of coherent thoughts to add to those chapters. I may have had a spark today though. We’ll see.

Lastly, I wanna write Ezra. I don’t know where he’s gonna be, if he has both arms, what manner of trouble he’s gonna be in but I’m gonna try. Because like Joel he has an accent and that’s really all it took. It honestly might be a kink or fetish at this point which how much of a Southern drawl I have Joel the last time I wrote him. I’ll have to google which one it is or it could be both. 👀

As always, I took way too long to get my point across. 🤣

Take care everyone

Love Nerdie ❤️

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #ezra #ezra prospect #oberyn martell #frankie morales fanfiction #javier pena fanfiction #wip wednesday #always such long posts #Nerdie talks #juice collective

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pink-whiskey-woman · 7 months

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Happy Haunts Materialize

Warnings: 18+, oral (m receivng), fingering, creampies, heavy kissing, flirtations Dieter, no use of y/n for reader, Disney kink

A lazy hazy sunshine filtered in through the open window of the bedroom, a cool fall breeze blowing in leaving goosebumps on your naked shoulders. Arms wrapped around your west broad chest pushed smack against you, a firm dick notched against your ass leaving you with more goosebumps as a patch beard tracks kisses down your neck, shoulders and spine. Shuffling onto your side you see Dieter and his childlike smile and warm brown eyes looking back at you studying your eyes, your lips and your body, licking his lips and kissing you sweetly. “If we’re gonna get there for rope drop we need to start getting ready” you softly whisper to Dieter. “I know, I know my love just hard to get up so early but for you I’ll do anything” You both yawn and stretch and amble out of bed for breakfast. Scarfing down some toast and coffee you both get upstairs, grab your costumes for the day and jump in the shower together. Soaping each other up while hot water courses over you both wakes you up and makes you incredibly horny, Dieter’s hands massaging your ample breasts pinching and rolling your nipples as his cock grows hard pressed up against the curve of your lower back and you press yourself into him as he moves his hands lower down your hips and ghosts his fingers over your clit lightly drawing circles and whispering in your ear “If you love Disney so much just wait till we get back home you have VIP access to the best ride ever” You turn to push your fingers into solid, tan chest and soft belly behind you wrapping a hand around his semi hard cock and teasing a little yourself. “ I can’t wait, gonna ride it more than once, baby” You both chuckle and turn the cooling water off and step out of the glass doored shower to towel off. Dieter goes to get ready in his guest room and you get ready in the bedroom the outfit purposefully picked to e a perfect mix of sweet and sexy the baby pink dress and satin petticoat hitting at just the right length on your leg a snug fitting bodice and delicate gauzy straps finish the dress while white thigh highs with a pink bow and pink converse on your feet. Underneath a silk pink crotchless thong and bustier set makes you feel like the perfect coquettish princess and hopefully this outfit will do its magic throughout the day. Hair in perfect ringlets, a soft sweet makeup and a dab of your favorite perfume Gucci Guilty and you make your way downstairs and your jaw drops, Dieter who loves nothing more than his comfy clothes and crocs is in black converse high tops, black almost painted on jeans so tight you can see the curve of his sweet little ass, white button down henley sleeves rolled up to his elbows to show off his sexy forearms, and gray vest. Black leather fingerless gloves on his hands, his usual rings and a few chunky chains complete his look. His hair is spiky and messy and his glasses are thick black rims but look hot as hell on his face and you almost trip on the last stair.

His hand grabs you, the massive size of it alone swallows your wrist and you regain composure. You smooth out your dress and have Dieter put your necklace on that he bought you a pink opal the size of a bottle cap. Gingerly he places the chain around your neck and kisses the nape after he secures it. His cell rings alerting him that the limo is 15 minutes away to take you two to the park. You share a quick joint, slap some gum in your mouth, grab your sleeping beauty loungefly and out the door you go for Dapper Dan day and for a special VIP tour of the park and rides that Dieter secured for you as a birthday present. He may not understand the logistics of it but he knows how special Disney is to you so if it puts a smile on your face he lives for it. You and your magic self saved him from a shitty life and career so to him you're his Cinderella, Belle and every other princess he can name. The limo arrives and whisks you two away to the happiest place on earth for some much needed fun and alone time. You pass lush trees and neatly manicured houses on your way to the park. 20 minutes pass and you are pulling into the VIP lot.

The park is abuzz for how early in the morning it is with people dressed as every era and style of Disney they can muster. A soft sun hits and the sky is nothing but blue clouds. You go to the vip entrance and meet your guide for the day Sophia, a college program trainee who is sweet-faced and bubbly. She is so happy she gets to be your guide and show you all the tricks of the park. The rope drop ceremony starts Mickey, Minnie, Goofy, Pluto, Donald and Daisy make their way out to greet everyone and cut the rope and confetti streamers pop as the mad dash to get on rides, shop and run in is happening all around you. Sophia takes you both for some coffee and she starts her tour. A few hours have passed and it's gotten warmer but pleasant and you two have had breakfast, shopped and went on Mad Tea Cups, Snow White, the carousel, for sweet pictures of course, Pirates of the Caribbean, Jungle Cruise, gotten dole whips, took castle pictures, gotten pixie dusted which Dieter enjoyed more than you somehow the glitter falling on his hair like snow shining in the sunlight and a few landing on his lips which you kissed off of him. Lunch was approaching and he took you to Be Our Guest for a private tour and pictures with Belle and The Beast in the library room. Sophia left to grab lunch with another vip guide so it gave you a little alone time to rest and take in the sights and sounds of one of your favorite movies come to life. After the main course was through DIeter whispered something to the waiter and off he went. Just the two of you alone the stained glass casting rainbow shadows on your faces he moved closer to you and rested his hand precariously high on your thigh drawing figure eights with his thumbs. “Are you having fun so far” he asked hoping that you were and that he did a good job with his gift choice. “Amazing, this has been the best day of my life so far, you are so thoughtful and sweet and you look so sexy” You put your hands on his chest and glided them down over the buttons on his vest, down his stomach and his belt and placed them square on either side of the bulge in his pants only lightly tapping your fingers on the outline of his cock when the waiter came waltzing back in the room with two glasses of champagne in fancy gold flutes. Dieter stared into your eyes black pupils that looked hungrily at you, down to your lips and back to your eyes again and he grabbed your hands in his and kissed them with the tiniest smirk forming on his lips. You turned to the waiter and each grabbed a flute and thanked him. He went away again to presumably settle the bill so you could be back on your way. You turned back to Dieter who still held both your hands in his massive one and swiped your thumb on his bottom lip which he grabbed and sucked on for only a second the pupils still blown black with lust. He took a sip of champagne and moved your chair close enough to his and guided you to his lap. He went to kiss you and the taste was sweet and buzzy the champagne and cookie mousse dessert intermingling with Dieter’s weed from earlier gave an interesting taste to his kiss bit you couldn’t care less. He let go of your hand and wound his hands in your curls savoring every kiss like it was his last, the headiness and the champagne made you feel like floating but you were grounded as if his lips and hands would never let go of you. When you finally took enough of a break for air you finished your champagne and his hand playfully grabbed your ass as you got up to join Sophia for the remainder of your tour. You rode more rides saw a parade, got a balloon and ended your tour at your hands down favorite ride Haunted Mansion.

You squealed with delight as you walked through the VIP line and noticed no one else was coming with you, “Why isn’t anyone else going on the ride” “One last surprise for you, I rented the ride out for our last hour of the tour so we have it all you ourselves” Dieter exclaimed You threw your arms around him face nuzzled into his neck and kissed him there “This is the craziest surprise ever, thank you love” You two walked hand and hand to the entrance where you bid Sophia goodbye and thanked her for being an amazing tour guide. The entrance was closed off and you began the pre show queue laughing to yourselves on how silly it was after all these years. You went down and entered your doom buggy, a large black vehicle and began your journey on the ride. After the third or fourth trip around you were quoting stuff to each other finding little details and sitting on top of one another practically. On the 5th time around you were making your way up the hill to enter the beginning of the ride when it lurched to a stop. Wondering of there was a malfunction you waited about 5 minutes when a voice came over the speakers ``Don't worry there's a small glitch in the track programming but we’ll get you going again shortly” Sitting in almost complete darkness except for the blue, purple and silver ride lights you peered down to watch the ballroom scene partners dancing their ghostly forms captivating you. You enjoyed the fact that the ac was working and that you were cool. Lost in your thoughts and watching the forms dance you felt large hands and long,strong arms wrap around you and pull you close. Lips found yours and the kissing began again, the pool of desire blossoming in your lacy panties, your hands finding their way through messy hair fingertips scratching the nape of his curls spurring him to kiss you harder and hold you tighter. The leather fingerless gloves making their way to cup you under your dress starting to pull off the petticoat underneath. You shift yourself enough to get the petticoat off and thrown to the side of the ride track. His fingers continue to creep upwards and you can see a surprised look when Dieter realizes he's touching bare skin, the wet fold of your sex already dripping.

He moves you onto his lap and you bookend his crotch and fingers with your thighs. One large finger at first teases you and his thumb makes steady pressure on your clit, another massive digit enters while his other arm holds you firmly in place. You rock back and forth unbuttoning his vest and throwing to the side of your vehicle and slowly unbutton the white henley more lips kissing down his neck and his collarbone and what you can reach of his chest, strong and golden and warmed by the sun earlier and your body heat now. He puts a third finger inside you and you buck your hips, moan and roll your eyes to the back of your head. Illuminated only by shadows and very little lighting you see that little smirk from earlier has grown into a full shit eating grin now as if it was the Cheshire Cat you were facing. His fingers deftly work inside you, scissoring and moving with deliberate urge as he stretches you and gets you wetter by the minute. In a brazen move he puts his last finger inside you and you mewl fisting his shirt and you buck and ride his fingers with ferocity. “ That my good girl, my dirty princess, taking all my fingers inside you all the way up to the leather knuckles of his glove, his cock twitching and growing harder underneath you as you are soaking his jeans with your slick. You hold his shirt in your fists and kiss him passionately working hard to move your dress up enough to undo his belt and button on his jeans, unzipping and moving just enough so he can slide them down and you notice he's commando. You take your fingers and slide it under your dress collecting some of your wetness and wrap your hand around his thick massive shaft and start pumping and making sure he's as hard as he can be. You scoot to the side so you can bend down and take his head in your mouth, rolling the foreskin back and licking it as you do as well as scooping up the salty drips of silver precum leaking out of the slit. You tongue his head and hear him moan and push his fingers in your deeper as you continue to blow your boyfriend on a Disney ride like it was an everyday occurrence. After a few more licks and pumps Dieter can’t take it anymore and gets you in position on top of him. “This pussy is mine, get ready for the ride of your life baby” voice dropping to that low octave bedroom voice he does on the tv show he’s on.

You situate yourself and slide down his length slowly letting each inch by massive inch fill and stretch you, the slight sting making you even hornier as it drives you wild knowing he's all yours and this massive thick cock comes for you and you alone. Once you're fully engorged by him you start rocking your hips and he meets your rhythm at a steady pace of thrusts and each one feels deeper than the last, he fills and hits spots that make you see little stars each and every time. Without missing a beat he flips you onto the seat of the ride and stands behind you cock never leaving your entrance and pushes you down holding you to the seat bench with one hand the other alternates between pulling your hair to arch you even more open for him and smacking you on the ass with his hand or his belt making you scream and squirm and ask him for more. Dieter, always willing to oblige such requests, gives you exactly what you want unzipping your dress to mark you up your spine and your neck with his mouth little red marks you feel forming his hands undoubtedly will leave bruises in the same spot on your hips they always do, the slight pain becoming a badge of honor. He takes his belt and ties your wrists behind your back all while fucking into you at a hedonistic pace the thrusts making a sloppy wet sound that echoes in your buggy, his balls slapping against your ass along with his hand every once in a while just because he likes and knows what limits he can bring you too. His thrusts become harder and you know any moment now you are gonna explode the music from the ballroom dance scene below you coming to its crescendo as are you and as drums and violins hit their high notes you are exploding onto his dick fireworks are going off internally as he grabs you up by his belt and fucking gives you one of the most mind blowing knee buckling orgasms of your life and as you are trying to regain composure you feel a hot mouth near your ear face buried in your hair ready to explode as his breathing gets ragged and wth a few more deep cervix kissing thrusts your insides are being painted in white hot ropes of his cum his moans in your ear make your clit throb and he steadies himself by enveloping your breasts in his massive hands massaging them as he floats off his high and slumps onto the seat bench next to you. He takes his belt off your wrists and kisses them as you wiggle and stretch them, smoothing out your dress and hair. Lights begin to flicker back on as he’s pulling on his jeans and buttoning them and quickly grabbing the petticoat off the tracks. “ So so so sorry about that inconvenience we got the track working again so we will extend the private ride time for you. You giggle to each other as the ride starts up again and you leave your dancing ghost friends behind for the time being. You sit next to Dieter for the next 30 minutes or so coming off both your highs, fixing yourselves before the last ride loop and sweetly kiss each other the whole last go around. Steadying yourself Dieter exits the ride first and helps you off and onto the moving walkway. You throw the petticoat in the garbage and walk out of the ride into the perfect golden hour, perfect time for a Mickey pretzel and the perfect photos. As you walk to explore more of the park you think which ride you want to conquer next and think of something slow and easy, maybe like small world…

As always thank you to my magical sluts.... love yall @sparklefarts38 @exquisiteserotonin @legendary-pink-dot @magpiepills @imalrightllama @redhotkitchen @youandmeand5bucks @arcanefox207

#juice collective #dieter x reader #disney land #if you're hot you're freaky and if you're freaky you're hot

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milla-frenchy · 1 month

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7 AM

0k8 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 Summary: Joel fucks you by the window, some guy watches you Warnings: 18+ mdni. Exhibitionism, rough sex, dirty talk, piv, creampie. Mention of somnophilia. Reader’s hair can be pulled. No age specified, no outbreak a/n: same couple: 5 days collection, but can be read alone @aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta reading 💕🫶 Gif in the mood board by @pedropascalsx 🙏 Series masterlist | Masterlist

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The sun's rays woke you up early, too early for a Sunday. You contemplated going back to sleep, before glancing at Joel. He was snoring softly, lying on his stomach, one leg slightly bent, his face turned towards you. You looked over him, from his tousled curls to his bare back. His arm was hugging the pillow, the sheets were tangled just below his ass. He’d gone out with friends the night before, and had fallen asleep wearing his gray sweatpants.

It was one of the rare nights when he didn’t fuck you before you two went to bed or while you were asleep.

You smiled looking at him and decided to let him rest. You got up and left the bedroom, closing the door behind you. After making yourself some coffee you went to the living room. It was bathed in light. You walked to the window and saw a few people who were already jogging outside. You put your coffee on the windowsill, waiting for it to cool off.

You felt Joel behind you before you heard him, right before he placed his hands on your hips.

“What are you doin’ here, sweetheart?” he asked, his mustache brushing against your ear.

He pressed his crotch against you before you even had time to respond. His morning wood found its place against the crease of your ass, leaving you breathless.

“Mmm?”, he insisted, leaning more against you.

“I…didn’t wanna wake you up.”

“Is that right?”

You felt him pull down his sweatpants, just below his balls. His hard cock sprang free towards the ceiling before he slid it between your thighs with a firm hand on his shaft. He pushed your panties to the side, and grabbed your breasts under his large t-shirt.

“Mmmm…you smell like me”, he murmured.

“Joel…people could see us.”

“Yeah? Shoulda think about it earlier, sweetheart.”

He pressed on your back to bend you further towards the window, and nestled his cock at your entrance. You held your breath. You always loved it when he fucked you without preparation, whether with his fingers or his tongue. The painful second when he thrust in always gave way to long minutes of pleasure when you forgot about everything, except for his shaft ruining your pussy.

When he pushed in, you let out a soft “fuck” biting your lip.

“Yeah, take it, just like that. Good girl.”

He bottomed out, growling, his hands tight on your hips and his gaze down on your ass.

“Shit, this pussy’s barely wet. Poor baby...must be harsh to take this big cock without me spreading you first.”

His pace was slow, but so powerful, that your forehead hit the window each time his cock sank between your folds. He grabbed your hair when you didn’t respond, pulling your head back.

“So cockdumb, when I fuck you raw like that. That’s what you wanted, when you woke up?”

He kissed your neck before nibbling on it, pulling you back against his chest. His hand left your hair to grab a breast and he picked up the pace, thrusting in faster. Then he bent you forward again, making your forehead hit the window, one hand firmly gripping your shoulder for leverage. A jogger passing the house glanced up at your window and slowed down when he saw you.

“Joel!!”

But he neither stopped nor slowed down. He pressed down on the back of your neck, holding you against the window, chasing his orgasm. The stranger was almost walking at that point, watching you two. You slipped your hand into your panties, desperately twirling your clit under your finger.

“Fuck…you’re gonna get off while some guy’s watching you being pounded? Oh, baby…didn’t know you were such a bad girl.”

You couldn’t help but look at the man, now standing in front of the house. There was a smile on your face when the orgasm hit you, your pussy clenching on Joel’s cock. He stopped, buried deep inside your core as his cum spurted over your walls. His eyes were fixed on the man, still watching you.

“Damn it, Joel…”

Once your pussy stopped milking his cock, he grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him, tucking his member back into his sweatpants with the other hand.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re gonna ride my face, right now, in bed. And this time you're gonna cum without looking at a damn stranger. Bet he’s gonna jack off when he’ll get home, thinking about this pussy he can’t have.”

You looked out the window one last time. The man readjusted himself before continuing his run.

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Same couple: 5 days collection

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Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

@pascalsanctuary @littlemisspascal @survivingandenduring

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arcanefox207 · 4 months

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Happy New Year! Have some Joel gifs. More to come, I'll try to be better about posting more often but smaller sets. Send me requests and I may do them at random when Im feeling generous. To be continued!

Love to my sluts <;3 @magpiepillsjunior @redhotkitchen @sparklefarts38 @exquisiteserotonin @pink-whiskey-woman @youandmeand5bucks @legendary-pink-dot @morallyinept @for-a-longlongtime @secretelephanttattoo

#pedro pascal #joel miller #pascalispunk #tlou gifs #pedrito #pedro pascal fandom #daddy joel #joel blep #gifset #the last of us #the juice collective #arcanefox gifs

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pedroshotwifey · 5 months

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Christmas Countdown Day 6 - Javi P.

Take It

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader

Word count: 908

Tags/Warnings: No use of y/n, (could be seen as) dub/noncon, rough piv sex, like really fucking rough, overstimulation (f), daddy/papi kink, aftercare implied but up for interpretation, stuff im forgetting, pussy slapping, kinda dead dove, when I say they nasty I mean they nasty

Summary: The one where Javi fucks your lights out

A/N:⚠PLEASE READ⚠ Alright, y'all. This one can be interpreted a few different ways. It obviously jumps right into the smut, so there is nothing to tell you what kind of relationship Javi has with the reader, or how they got into this situation. That being said, this can be seen as something that Javi and the reader talked out beforehand (maybe they have a safeword), or it could be seen as dub/noncon. The choice is yours as there is nothing in this fic to hint that either of those are what's happening. Thank you for reading <3

***

“Javi, please!”

You sob as he rocks into your sensitive and overused cunt. Through the tears in your eyes, you glance at the digital clock on the nightstand next to the bed. If the time is right, that means that Javi has had his dick buried in your pussy for about an hour now.

You have no idea how he does it, how he can bring himself to the edge so many times only to repeatedly deny himself. How he forces you to stay still until he backs off the edge and is able to keep going. How he, somehow, manages to get you to fall apart over and over again while he does so.

You lost count of your orgasms after four; at that point, they had started to mesh. Everything had, really.

“Shhh,” Javi says, continuing to pound into you. “You can take it, hermosa.”

He has you face down, ass in the air. One of his hands is wrapped in your hair, and the other on your waist, both working to pull you back to him to meet his thrusts. Your hands are just as useless as your arms at this point, scrambling to find something to hold onto without success.

Your cries and pleas are accompanied by Javi’s grunts and heavy breathing, which mixes together with a wet slapping sound that echoes around the bedroom. The atmosphere is humid and thick with the smell of sex, making your mind even more hazy.

Your body is acting on its own at this point, completely detached from your brain. You faintly register a coil tightening in your abdomen, pulling tighter and tighter until it snaps.

You cry out as your orgasm wracks your entire body, your cunt convulsing around Javi’s still-hard dick. He grits his teeth and shoves himself even harder into you, slamming into your cervix and making you jolt forward.

He stills but holds you close, his cock nestled deep inside you as you ride out your orgasm and he regains composure. He loosens his grip on your hair slightly as he leans in and showers you with praise.

Good girl, that’s good.

There you go, come all over my cock.

So perfect, bebita, take me so good, make Papi feel so good.

Once you deflate against the mattress, he resumes his movements, slowly picking up his pace again until he’s pummeling into you and tears are streaming down your ruddy cheeks.

Your skin is tacky where it meets with Javier’s pelvis, the moisture there accentuating the steady slaps and making the contact sting more with every powerful thrust.

You barely register him telling you he’s almost finished, another something about you being good for him. If not for the constant reassurance, you wouldn’t believe that you could keep this up.

“…one more for me..” he’s saying in a far away place. One more. Just one more.

You’re too preoccupied with that thought, repeating it over and over in your scrambled mind, to realize that he’s moved one of his hands. You scream when he makes contact with your clit, a sharp slap that lights nerves across your entire body.

He slaps in quick succession, the resulting sting making your hips buck backward as you try to get away from it. Each time you do so, you impale yourself further on Javi’s dick, and he moans loudly, whereas it causes you a light pain, it spurs him on.

Every nerve feels like it's on fire and you swear you’re going to black out by the black that swirls into your vision. You hear yourself begging, pleading for him to be done, and then a strangled cry as you come around him again.

You’re completely fucked out, your body limp and your ears ringing. Your eyelids drop closed and you have no control of what comes out of your mouth, which isn’t much but a few wet and whiny breaths.

You think Javi is saying something again, but the harder you try to listen, the less you hear. Just a soft grumble coming somewhere from far away.

Half a dozen more thrusts, and suddenly Javi’s pace is messy and uneven. His grunts grow deeper and his breaths more aggressive. you feel yourself being lifted up onto your knees, Javi’s arms being wrapped around you, and his head resting on your shoulder as he groans.

You frantically grasp at his forearms for purchase as he finally stills inside to let his cum paint your walls. His cock throbs and pulses inside of you, making you whimper with even the slightest movement.

When he’s done and his cum is spilling down from around his cock and down your thighs, he waits a few minutes, just catching his breath, and then he pulls out. He does it slowly, but even so, your body immediately falls limply onto the mattress without his support.

He tuts from behind you smooths your messy hair down, a gentle touch after using you so recklessly. You’ve stopped crying, your breaths evening out slightly. Every cell of your body is exhausted. Completely spent. When your eyelids drift closed again you don’t bother to stop them.

“I’ll be right back, Hermosa,” Javi says as he gets up and pulls on his tight jeans. There’s a sudden smokeyness to the air that tells you he’s already lit a cigarette. He pets your head one more time before exiting the room, but by then you’re already asleep.

***

I would appreciate some input on this one because I am actually working on a dark!Javi series right now. Don't feel like you have to, but if you enjoyed this dynamic, please let me know! Thank you for reading either way! <3

Biggest, fattest thank you to @mandoalorian for hosting this challenge!

Link to prompt list

No tag list just in case

#pedro pascal #fan fiction #ao3 #smut #pedro pascal smut #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #dark pedro pascal #dark javier pena #dead dove do not eat #dddne #tw noncon #dubcon tw #dead dove fic #friends of the juice collective

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 5 months

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Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 27

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo X OFC

Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives.

Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk.

Chapter Warnings: Discussions about intimate partner violence, suicidal ideation, mental health struggles, drug abuse, and alcohol abuse.

Chapter Quote: "I got to snuggle some baby goats."

It took everything in me to hold back the sob that threatened to escape the instant I heard Dieter’s voice. I momentarily placed my hand over my mouth to hold it in and compose myself. I let out a shaky breath as I tried to find my voice.

“Dieter?”

I could hear his stuttered breathing on the other end of the line. He sounded like he was battling with his emotions too.

He cleared his throat, “Yeah… it’s me.”

I sighed loudly into the phone as the tears started to slide down my face. I felt like my brain had completely shut down on me, unsure of what to say but also feeling the urge to say everything all at once. It was so overwhelming but also awkward since we had not talked in so long. There were still so many things up in the air between us.

“How’ve you been?” He asked, sounding unsure of himself. I felt like he didn’t know what to say either.

I sniffed loudly as I wiped at my face, “Umm, I’ve been ok. How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling good. Normal, I think…then again…I’m not sure I really know what normal is,” we both laughed nervously.

“I’m feeling better than I have in a long time. I can confidently say that at least,” he added.

I smiled. It was nice to know that he was feeling better. It helped dampen some of the worry I had been feeling.

“How are things going, otherwise?”

“Well, I got to snuggle some baby goats during group therapy this morning. I kinda want one now.” He sounded unabashed about this revelation.

“Of course you do,” I said in response, shaking my head and chuckling at the thought.

“I gotta new roommate two weeks ago…Gordon is his name. He’s an interesting guy…he uhhh…” he stifled a laugh before continuing. “He said he came here because the wall outlets were talking to him. Like, full conversations. They finally stopped after he got his meds sorted out. Made me feel a little better about my issues.”

I was a little dumbfounded, “Ummm, I’m not sure if I should laugh about that or not…” Dieter snickered, “He jokes about it now, so I think it’s ok.”

It felt good to hear him laughing again. I had missed that sound more than I realized. I really missed his voice in general. He sounded different. Better, lighter almost. It was a sound I wanted to commit to memory.

“Umm…so Gabby said you didn’t take that job offer?” His nervousness had returned with that question.

“No, I turned it down.” I started rubbing at my shoulder with my free hand as I moved to sit down at the kitchen table.

“Why? It sounded like an amazing opportunity”

I sighed, now rubbing at the crease between my brows, “It was, but it’s not where I wanted to be or what I wanted to do. I would’ve had to give up too much and I don’t feel like I’m in the right headspace to do that.”

“I hope it wasn’t because of me…”

“No. I mean, I guess I can’t say no. You’re part of it…but my life is here. I can’t leave Lauren or even Gabby and Alex at this point. We’ve all gotten so close. And like I said, I’m not in the right headspace for that. I would’ve been spending a lotta time alone and I don’t wanna do that right now. It just wasn’t where I felt like I should be. I didn’t feel any kind of excitement over it at all, so I turned it down”

I suddenly felt vulnerable revealing that to him, questioning if I should have. I didn’t want him to worry about me when he needed to be focusing on himself.

“Are you sure you’re doing ok?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me, I promise. I’m just…I-” I huffed, shaking my head. I wasn’t sure if it was ok to finish that thought. I didn’t want to make any assumptions about how he was feeling or make an ass of myself.

I heard him chuckle quietly over my flustered response, “I miss you too.”

I was instantly calmed by his words, my anxiety about where we stood easing some. I let out a shy laugh at his declaration, tears still running down my face as I sniffled out, “You do?”

“Of course, I do, so fucking much… I - I’m sorry I haven't called you. I wanted to make sure I had a clear head when I did, and then I didn’t really know what to say after everything that happened.”

I heard him inhale sharply before he spoke up again, there was a tapping noise, like he was drumming his fingers against something.

“Listen, I’ve only got a few minutes left before they cut me off for today, but the reason I called…”

He paused, clearing his throat nervously, “Umm, so I wanted to see if you would be willing to come here and do a session with my psychiatrist and me…”

“Of course, when?”

“Whenever you can. Just uhh, call my case worker and she’ll get it scheduled.”

I could hear him shuffle around before he started cursing under his breath.

“Well, I was gonna give you the number but now I can’t find it...Gabby should have it.”

I couldn’t help but to snigger at him. He was still a little bit of a hot mess, which I loved about him.

He followed up with an exasperated “sorry” about not being able to find the number before he let out a quiet laugh at himself. It felt like part of it was his nervousness too.

“I’ll text her to get it as soon as we hang up and I’ll call immediately.”

I could hear him sigh in relief before a beeping noise broke into our conversation with an automated message giving a one minute warning.

“I’ll be there tomorrow if they’ll let me…or at least as soon as they’ll let me,” I said in a rush. Suddenly feeling the pressure of our limited time. I still felt like I had so many things to say to him.

“I would like that. I…I really can’t wait to see you…”

His words trailed off, shaking slightly as he was hit with another wave of emotions.

“I can’t wait to see you either,” I replied with a quivering voice.

After a moment of silence, there was a clicking sound as the line disconnected. I held the phone against my forehead, trying to get my breathing back to normal. Once I was able to focus my thoughts, I sent a quick text to Gabby to let her know that Dieter had called and that I needed the number for his case worker. I half expected her to call me, but thankfully she didn’t. She replied back quickly with the number and that she was happy he finally reached out. She followed that message up with another asking me if I was ok and if I needed to talk about it. I appreciated her offer, but I was good for now and let her know as much. Once I finished texting with Gabby, I dialed the number for the case worker, suddenly feeling nervousness forming in the pit of my stomach.

“Sanctuary Hills, this is Sharon,” the polite, yet comforting voice answered.

“Hi Sharon, this is Natalia Cohen…” She cut in before I could continue.

“Oh, Talia, hi. I’ve been expecting your call. Dieter told me he was going to be calling you.”

I let out a nervous laugh, slightly taken aback by the familiarity in which she said my name. It made me wonder how much he had talked about me.

“I assume you’re calling about an appointment for a family session?”

I didn’t know why, but it stirred something in me when she called it a family session. Technically, I wasn’t his family, but they were treating me as if I were. I could feel the tears prickling at my eyes again as I exhaled out a breathy “yes” in response.

“That’s wonderful news, I know he’ll be overjoyed to see you.” I could hear the smile in her voice

“I can’t wait to see him either,” I replied, still trying to keep the emotions out of my words.

“Alright, let me have a look at the schedule. Dr. Rosenberg did ask that you be prepared to be available for at least a week for additional sessions, if possible.”

“Additional sessions?” I was confused. I couldn’t recall if the same thing had been asked of Gabby, which caused my anxiety to flare.

“Don’t worry, it’s perfectly normal for that to happen. It’s mostly educational sessions for family members if they’re willing to participate.”

“Oh, ok. That doesn’t sound so bad.” I laughed nervously.

“When would you like to come in?” she asked with a calming tone.

“As soon as you can get me in is preferable.” I started tapping on the table as I waited for options, listening to the clicking of a keyboard on her end.

“How about 10 AM the day after tomorrow?”

“I’ll take it,” I said a little too eagerly. The anticipation of seeing Dieter again was starting to get to me.

“I have it scheduled. In case you do end up staying for additional sessions, we have apartments on site for patient families. So, you won’t have to worry about lodging. We don’t want you stressing about that while you’re here.”

“Oh, that’s…nice. Thanks for letting me know.”

“When you arrive for your session, come in the north entrance with the blue awning and they'll get you checked in. It’s a different entrance than where you would have come in before.”

I thanked her and our conversation ended soon after that. Afterwards, I sat staring out the kitchen window, feeling the anxiousness settle into my gut. Not knowing what to expect was always the worst for me. It was like that call had started a countdown, to what, I wasn’t sure. I could only hope the end result would be something positive.

The morning of our session, I had a ridiculously early flight so that I could be there in time. I decided to keep things simple with minimal makeup, a messy bun, sunglasses, sneakers, skinny jeans, and one of Dieter’s button up dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up. I had raided his closet while I was at his house cleaning up. It was something small, but being wrapped in his scent or wearing something that belonged to him brought me some comfort during my time without him. His clothing quickly became a staple in my casual attire.

I was so anxious about seeing Dieter again that the flight didn’t faze me like it normally would have. Though it was an hour and a half, it seemed much quicker as the minutes continued to count down and the distance between us shortened. I could feel myself getting more worked up the closer I got. By the time I acquired the rental car and was on the road to the facility, my chest was heavy. Breathing was getting harder with each mile that passed.

When I pulled into the parking lot, I could feel my heart pounding in my ears. I sat gripping the steering wheel tightly in both hands and taking deep breaths. I wasn’t even sure why I was so nervous, it’s not like I knew what Dieter was planning to talk to me about. However, deep down I had a fear, though most likely irrational, that he was going to realize he didn’t really want to be with me after this. I wasn’t sure if I could handle that a second time if it were to happen. Without permission, the tears started to streak down my cheeks, and I felt like I was going to be sick.

After a few more deep breaths, I slammed my fist down on the stop of the steering wheel out of frustration, “Fucking hell, get it together Talia.”

My head dropped back onto the headrest as I squeezed my eyes shut, still taking deep controlled breaths. After several minutes passed, I let out a slow exhale before opening my eyes. Feeling more relaxed, I did a quick check in the mirror to make sure I didn’t look like a complete mess before exiting the vehicle to go inside.

I was starting to have an out of body feeling as I went through the check in process. I couldn’t really remember walking to the building or anything the lady behind the desk had just said to me as I sat down in the lobby to wait. After a few minutes, one of the receptionists called my name and led me through a secure door down a long hallway. We passed several offices that had glass inserts in the doors with shades. Most of the shades were pulled closed, however, I noticed one was open. As I approached, I glanced inside and was met with a familiar figure sitting in a high backed desk chair in the middle of the room with his head leaned back and eyes closed as he spun back and forth, his legs bouncing ever so often. He was sitting on the opposite side of a desk from a woman who was possibly in her fifties, with graying hair and a kind face. Though, she did have a slightly overwhelmed look about her as her eyes met mine through the glass.

I stopped briefly, watching him wave his hands animatedly as he talked incessantly, never raising his head or opening his eyes. I felt a small smirk sneak across my face. He was nervous too. I could tell. My eyes flicked back to the woman, who was watching me watch him with a soft smile on her face.

My attention was pulled away by the receptionist, who was now at my side waiting for me to continue following her.

“He’s been driving us all crazy this morning. I think poor Sharon is getting the worst of it. He’s beyond excited that you’re here today.”

I chuckled at the thought before continuing down the hallway. I was led into a spacious office. It was modern and white with floor to ceiling windows on one side with nothing in sight but nature. All the furnishings were earth tones of brown and deep reds and oranges. I noticed there were a lot of plants filling the space, which added a homey feeling, in a strange sort of way. It also struck me how there were different seating areas on either side of the room. One had a small couch and cushy chair positioned in front of it, while the other had four cushy chairs sitting closely together in a circle. Each of the seats were adorned with soft looking pillows in various shades matching the space. There was a traditional desk setup in the center of the room with two chairs placed in front of it. Each area felt carefully designed to meet specific needs.

Moments after entering the room, I was greeted by Dr. Rosenberg who first shook my hand, then pulled me in for a loose hug.

“Talia, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you the last couple of months.”

It took me by surprise, though I felt like it shouldn’t have. There was a certain familiarity and kindness that everyone seemed to have toward me. Everyone had been very warm and welcoming thus far. It was comforting to know this was the type of environment that Dieter had been in.

I gave her a tight lipped smile as she led me over to sit in one of the four chairs in a circle. To my surprise, the chair spun slightly as I sat in it. Dr. Rosenberg turned hers to face me directly, so I did the same with mine. I had managed to stay composed thus far, but my nervousness was starting to show as I reached up and rubbed at my shoulder. The psychiatrist was silent for a moment as she watched my movements. I stopped, sat up straight and placed both hands on top of my crossed legs to keep from fidgeting.

I’m not sure why, but I felt the need to appear like I had my shit together. I took a minute to study her as she gave me a soft smile while she continued to get settled, grabbing a notepad, file folder, pen, and glasses from the small table next to her seat. She was probably in her early fifties, maybe late forties. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and she was dressed in business casual attire. I could tell she wanted to appear professional, but not uninviting. She was also definitely looking at my body language very closely, which was making me feel antsy. My therapist used to do that, and I hated it. I mentally smacked myself over my thoughts. I was already putting up walls and we hadn’t even started talking yet.

“Well, it’s been an exciting morning around here. Dieter is definitely happy you’re here. He was asked to leave his group session this morning because he couldn't focus. He’s been bugging poor Sharon ever since.” She laughed and smiled affectionately at her words.

She was trying to get me to relax. I knew that I looked too tense. I let out a breathy laugh as I sat back further in the seat, trying to appear less uptight, but I didn't think it was working. She gave me a sympathetic look suddenly, “You’re nervous to see him.”

It wasn’t a question. Looking down at my hands, I chuckled to myself briefly before clearing my throat to speak, “Yeah, I guess I am. I just…don’t know what to expect.”

“That’s a perfectly normal feeling. It’s not unusual for family members to worry if their loved one is going to be different after treatment. Is that some of what you’re feeling?”

Her question took me by surprise, “Ummm, maybe. Sort of...maybe not so much about him being different…more about him feeling differently.”

She nodded, “I understand. I can’t say that he won’t be different. His personality may present differently, more calm, less emotional or moody. He will feel differently in that he won’t be cycling from one extreme to the other, emotionally. As far as how he feels ABOUT things, that isn’t going to change just because he’s stabilized. Does that make sense?”

I gave a tight nod, “Yeah, it does.” It didn’t do anything to ease my anxiety though because I still didn’t know how he really felt about us. She eyed me for a second before continuing.

“So, I’ll fill you in on my plan for today. First, you and I are going to chat about Dieter’s diagnosis. Once we’re done, I’m going to bring him in for the session. After that, you and I will have a follow-up meeting to discuss the path forward. Does that sound ok to you?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” I started to chew on my bottom lip while she flipped through the file in her hand.

“Great. Just so you’re aware, Dieter signed release forms for you to have access to his medical and treatment information. Nothing is off the table, so if you have questions, ask. He made it clear to me that he wants you to know everything and wants you involved as much as you want to be.”

I paused briefly, shocked by that information. I exhaled the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, “Ok...I wasn’t expecting that.”

She smiled before continuing, “Alright, let’s get to it then?” She raised her brows at me, asking permission to proceed. I motioned with my hand to continue.

“So, he’s been formally diagnosed with mixed episode Bipolar I Disorder (BD). In simple terms, bipolar disorder is when someone experiences extreme behavioral or mood changes. The extreme highs are called manic episodes, and lows are episodes of depression. Most people with BD go through highs and lows over an extended period of time. Someone with mixed episodes, like Dieter has, tend to experience both highs and lows simultaneously or in a rapid sequence with no recovery time.”

She paused, giving me a minute to digest her words. I couldn’t say I was surprised by the diagnosis, it actually made a lot of his behavior make sense. When I didn’t speak up, she continued.

“I think what happened with Dieter…he was put on a lot of medication. Antidepressants in particular can be very tricky for someone with BD. It can cause an increased risk of mood destabilization when the antidepressants are not taken with a mood stabilizer. He was on pretty much everything but a mood stabilizer. You add that in with not sleeping, not eating, drinking, anxiety, and episode triggers…it’s a recipe for disaster. Sometimes being improperly medicated like that can trigger suicidal ideation and even psychosis. Honestly, he was fighting a losing battle.”

I leaned forward in my seat, placing my elbows on my knees while I rubbed at my face. I felt anger bubbling in my chest.

“Why didn’t his therapists or doctors catch what was happening?”

“One reason…lack of experience. BD is also incredibly hard to diagnose because it shares symptoms with so many other more common disorders like anxiety, depression, PTSD, and ADHD, which is what he was being treated for. That’s not to say he doesn’t have those things as well, but if he does, we need to take a different treatment approach.”

I sighed, shaking my head in disbelief. “Wow, that actually kind of blows my mind.”

“I know… and I’m surprised that no one thought to look into it, given his family history. It can be hereditary, and BD does have a high suicide rate. Given what happened with his mother, it should’ve been considered. Also, the fact that he experienced trauma in dealing with that incident...trauma often causes the onset of symptoms.”

I sighed heavily as the tears started to pool in my eyes, “This actually…kind of pisses me off that he had to go through all of this needlessly. He fucking hated taking that stuff because of the way it made him feel.”

“That brings me to my next topic...It's been hard to get a baseline with him. I feel like a lot of the things he was experiencing were side effects from all the medications he was on. I can’t really rely on his history before he started the medication because he was using recreational and prescription drugs and drinking heavily to self medicate, which could have been making things worse for him during that time as well.” She paused briefly to gauge my reaction, “I assume you knew about his past substance abuse issues?”

“Yeah, he’s mentioned it…What does all that mean?”

“Well, it’s hard to know exactly what his actual symptoms are right now. So, to start, I’m doing the bare minimum. I’ve started him out on a low dose mood stabilizer called divalproex sodium. It’s actually…an anticonvulsant that’s normally used to treat seizures rather than a typical mood stabilizer like lithium.”

I drew my brows down together in confusion, “Why a seizure medication?”

“That medication increases the amount of a chemical called gamma-aminobutyric acid in the brain. It works to block certain transmissions across the nerves in the brain and creates sort of an overall calming effect. That particular medication often works best for patients that have mixed or rapid cycling episodes. Lithium typically doesn’t get the job done in those instances. He seems to be doing well on it so far. We’ll give it a few more months to make sure everything else is out of his system and reevaluate.”

“So, he went from taking half the pharmacy…to one thing?”

“He did. He seems pretty set on limiting the medications as much as possible. He’s been spending a lot of his time doing cognitive behavioral therapy, interpersonal and social rhythm therapy, and psychoeducation to help him manage his symptoms and learn about triggers and that sort of thing. He’s been very invested in it, and it seems to be helping.”

I sighed, starting to feel overwhelmed, “I don’t know what all of that is. I mean, I know cognitive behavioral therapy but…” I shook my head in confusion.

“No worries, if you decide to continue with the family education sessions you’ll learn about that stuff. I know it’s a lot to take in...”

“Yeah, it is, but I’m happy that he’s hopefully on the right track now.” I took a couple of deep breaths to try and relax some as I continued to process things.

“One last thing before I bring Dieter in...I know you two were no longer together before his hospitalization and you haven’t really had a chance to work things out. His preference is to stay with you when he leaves treatment. I do want to be able to manage his expectations if that isn’t going to be the case. I don’t want you to feel like you have to allow that if you aren’t ready to take all this on. I want you to know that you can say no.”

I was taken aback at her directness, but also appreciated it. I actually felt like I was warming up to her some and feeling more comfortable with opening up to her. I didn’t hesitate with my response, if anything, I said it with conviction, looking directly into her eyes as I spoke.

“There’s no question in my mind about him coming home with me so long as he wants to. I’ve known from the start that he was struggling with his mental health, and I promised to support him through it. A new diagnosis doesn’t change anything for me. I’m all in for this.”

Dr. Rosenberg gave me a warm smile, clearly satisfied with my response. “Now I see why he says you can be a force to be reckoned with.”

My eyebrows shot up at her words as she again took me by surprise, “Dieter said that?” I chuckled at the thought as I leaned back in my seat, surprised that was the wording he chose.

“He’s said a lot of things about you, all positive, of course.” She laughed quietly to herself as she set her glasses on the table. As she stood, she announced she was going to go get him for our joint sessions.

After Dr. Rosenberg disappeared out the door, I could feel my anxiety returning. My chest was starting to tighten again as my heart beat a mile a minute. Instinctively, my right hand moved to rub at my shoulder. Was he going to be upset about how easily I gave up on us? I didn’t know how he couldn’t be. It didn’t sound like he was planning to end things for good even though that thought kept crossing my mind. It was clearly my pessimism and self-doubt seeping in. The thought of being completely open and vulnerable in this setting was making things worse too. I wasn’t a fan of having an audience, but I needed to get over that and not build up my walls right now. I propped my arm on the rest of the chair and started to rub at my forehead as my leg began to bounce. I couldn’t make myself stop the fidgeting no matter how hard I tried.

After several minutes passed, Dr. Rosenberg returned with Dieter following behind her. His head was down, clenching and unclenching his hands as he walked. As he approached me, he finally looked my way through his lashes. He gave me a small smile that widened as his eyes dropped down to my shirt, obviously noticing I was wearing one of his. I gave him a shy smile in return. He sat down in the chair directly in front of me as Dr. Rosenberg returned to her earlier spot.

It was clear he was nervous by the way he couldn’t keep his hands still and how the heel of his croc kept bouncing off the tiled floor. He would only occasionally glance in my direction as we waited for Dr. Rosenberg to get settled again. I took the opportunity to study his appearance. He looked so much better compared to the last time I had seen him. His light gray t-shirt was no longer loose looking around his fit torso. His pale skin had been replaced with a golden tan. His hair was longer and as wild as ever, framing his scruffy and patchy beard. His chocolate brown eyes looked clearer than I had ever seen them and were filled with nervousness and anticipation.

Once Dr. Rosenberg was ready to start, she filled Dieter in on what she had discussed with me about his diagnosis. She then encouraged him to take the lead going forward and discuss the things he wanted to speak with me about. He rubbed his hands together nervously, briefly chewing on his bottom lip before he met my gaze to speak.

“So, you’re…ok with that diagnosis?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. I wasn’t sure what he meant and gave him a confused look. “Like, it doesn’t freak you out or anything? I know it’s a lot to deal with.”

“Dieter, the diagnosis doesn’t change anything. You’re still you. Why would it bother me?”

“I dunno, I’m just afraid that at some point you’re gonna realize how big of a mess I am and run away from it all,” he said sheepishly.

I chuckled, leaning forward in the seat with a teasing smile, “I realized how big of a mess you were a long time ago.” He scratched at his chin as a smirk formed on his lips.

“Besides, I’m pretty sure I’ve already seen the worst of it and I’m still here. My feelings for you haven’t changed. You don’t have to worry about that from me.”

His eyes turned glassy at my words as he pinched his brows together, looking downward at his hands in his lap.

“I don’t deserve you, not after the way I treated you…the things I said. I was such an asshole to you.”

I bit at my bottom lip, shaking my head before speaking, “None of that matters to me. I know you weren’t completely yourself when you said those things.”

“No, I wasn’t but I still knew what I was doing and saying. I apparently tend to self-sabotage things. Some of the things I said, using your past against you, I knew it would hurt you. I wanted the words to hurt so you would let me go. I knew you wouldn’t otherwise.”

“Why though? I don’t understand why you felt the need to end things to begin with. Why was I a burden to you?”

His eyes widened at my question, brows shooting upward as he shook his head from side to side, “No, no you weren’t the burden…I was. I’m sorry I made you think that. I know the night I called, I wasn’t making a lot of sense. I…I hadn’t slept in days, and I was such a fucking mess.”

He licked his bottom lip and chewed at it for a second before continuing, “I could see how you were having to completely change everything about your life to accommodate me and my work just for us to be together. I knew it was eventually gonna be a problem and cause you stress because it was affecting your job. I didn’t wanna ruin your life that way. You shouldn’t have to cater your life to mine, it’s not fair. I love you too much to do that to you.”

“Dieter, it wasn’t always gonna be like that. It just happened to be shitty circumstances caused by the remote location. If we hadn't been in the middle of nowhere, I could’ve worked without issue. We just weren’t prepared for the challenges that came up. This is a learning experience for both of us. We’ll know better for next time so I can plan accordingly…and it wasn’t like you weren’t making changes to meet me halfway.”

He couldn’t argue with that. He sighed as he leaned back in his seat, nodding in agreement.

“I know that now, I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly…obviously. It all made sense at the time.” He rolled his eyes, frustrated with his behavior. He took a deep breath before continuing.

“It was more than that though, I knew I was spiraling out of control. I could fucking feel it happening and didn’t know how to make it stop. I didn’t wanna tell you what was going on because I didn’t want you to worry. I knew you would drop everything and fly back to Canada to be with me.”

“You’re damn right I would’ve… and I should’ve done that anyway.” I could feel my emotions catching up to me, my eyes filling with tears as I looked down away from him.

“I fucking knew it…in my gut that something was wrong, and I did nothing. If I had just done it…came up there anyway, this probably would’ve gone differently. I could’ve helped you through it, but no…I was a fucking coward. I gave up because I was selfish and wanted to protect myself. I didn’t even try because I was too afraid that I would end up in a dark place again if you didn’t want me to be there with you.”

The tears were streaking down my cheeks by this point. I couldn’t hold them back anymore. I had so much anger for myself that it was making me feel sick. Dieter stood from his seat, closing the few feet between us, then got down on his knees on the floor in front of me. He moved to grab my hands in my lap, but hesitated. I reached up and grabbed his in response.

“I’m sorry I put you in the position to even have to think that. It should’ve never happened. I should’ve been communicating everything with you instead of pushing you away. This whole fucking mess is my fault…I wanted to reach out so many times after that… to try and fix it, but you seemed like you were doing ok so I didn’t want to upset you again.”

The tears were streaming down his face now as he took a minute to try and compose himself.

“I thought I could move on and just deal with things the way I used to…by numbing the pain. That’s when I started drinking heavily again. Then I saw you at the restaurant, and you looked so fucking amazing…and I was such a dick. I was so angry with myself for that. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I had everything and fucked it up. My behavior after that night was reckless. There are days I can’t even remember because I was drinking so much. I just wanted to not think about it anymore.”

He pulled his hands away, looking down at the floor before wiping at his face. When he raised his head again, the pain in his eyes nearly made my heart stop. I reached out to cup his cheek, but he leaned away, seeming to need space.

“The night that video of you was posted online…several people sent it to me. I didn’t watch it at first because I didn’t think it would mean anything…but when I finally did…”

He put his hand over his mouth, letting out a quiet sob, before continuing.

“I could see how bad you were hurting…how bad I hurt you. What I did to you…I hated myself for it because you didn’t deserve that. It also reminded me of what I was missing out on because of how beautiful you sounded and looked…and that fucking song.”

He paused for a minute, shaking his head. He sniffled and wiped at his face again before continuing.

“I stayed up all night, watching it on a loop on the tv. I almost called you then, but stopped myself. I drank until I had nothing left instead. Then, when I ran into you the next morning, I could see how fucking broken you were. The way you looked at me…it fucking crushed me. I bought more alcohol and went back to the house. I don’t really remember much after that.”

He shook his head for a moment, pausing to take a few deep breaths, wiping at his face again.

“I don’t even remember calling you…and…even after everything I did, you still came to me. You could’ve easily told me to fuck off and I would’ve deserved it, but you didn’t. I know I wouldn’t be here right now if you hadn’t. You saved my life…I feel like you’ve been doing that ever since New York. When I say you’re my light in the darkness, I fucking mean it.”

I started sobbing into my hands. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I felt his fingers wrap around my wrist, pulling my hands around his neck as he moved to hug me. We sat there in an embrace for some time before I started mumbling into his shoulder.

“I was so afraid you were gonna hate me for giving up on you so easily. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder. Just know that it had nothing to do with you…I clearly still need to work on my own shit.”

He hugged me a little tighter as he buried his fingers in the back of my hair, “That thought never crossed my mind. Don’t even worry about it anymore.”

He finally pulled back, wiping the tears away from my cheeks with his thumbs as he did so. We gave each other tight smiles as we locked eyes. He turned away, toward Dr. Rosenberg, who I had completely forgotten was in the room, and asked for some tissues. She picked up the box from her small table and handed it to him as he stood. He handed me several and took some for himself before handing the box back to her. She motioned for him to have a seat. As she turned to set the box back on the table, I noticed she was looking a little glassy eyed too.

We all sat in silence as her eyes shifted between us. Dieter and I glanced at each other, confusion on our faces as we looked back toward her. She chuckled before she spoke.

“I’m not even sure why I’m here. This is literally the first family session ever where I didn’t have to intervene or lead a conversation. You two don’t seem to have any problems communicating, so I’m not sure how you ended up where you were.”

We both smiled widely at her, surprised and appreciative of her honesty. Dieter spoke up with a chuckle.

“I think between my fucked up brain and the distance…it didn’t do us any favors. We’re always at our best when we’re physically together, I think. Everything goes to hell when we aren’t. Clearly that is something I need to work on.”

Dr. Rosenberg nodded in agreement, “Well, I hate to separate you two again, but we are running short on time, and I want to have a chat with Talia about the plans going forward. Dieter, I’m pretty sure you have another group session coming up so you better head that way. You think you can focus enough for this one?”

She raised an eyebrow in his direction as he laughed and nodded. He stood, quickly shuffling over to lean down and give me a hug before exiting the room.

Dr. Rosenberg wasted no time getting back to business, “Talia, part of his treatment is making sure he has the support he needs when he gets home. That’s why we offer support to caretakers as well, because technically, you will be his caretaker as the only other person in the household with him.”

I knitted my brows together, confused about where this conversation was going.

“I’m not going to pretend that I don’t know you have a traumatic history because Dieter has mentioned a few things. I don’t know the details, and I get the sense he doesn’t know it all either. I feel like whatever happened with your ex-husband is still affecting you. Is the dark place you mentioned something that you would be willing to talk to me about? Anything you tell me about yourself is confidential, just so you know.”

I sighed heavily as I ran both hands over my face, “So you picked up on that, huh?” I laughed nervously under her gaze.

“You’re right, I haven’t told him everything. I keep telling myself I’ve moved past it, but after the last few months, I’ve realized that I just locked it away and pretended it didn’t exist. I tend to do that with a lot of things.” She gave me an encouraging smile, clearly picking up on my hesitation as I paused to gather my thoughts.

“So, the last few years of my marriage, I started drinking heavily after finding no way out of the hell I was living in. The constant mental and psychological abuse was wearing me down, especially after I realized what was happening. When I tried to talk to Justin about a divorce, he would just tell me there was no way out because he wasn’t ready to give me up.” I paused briefly… focusing on something outside through the window. “I uhh, came home early from work one day and found him with another woman that he worked with. He of course said it was my fault, because I wasn’t giving him what he needed in the marriage. I knew what he was doing…and I was determined not to let it go because I felt I had a legitimate reason to end things at that point. I TOLD him I was leaving. I was done asking. When I started packing a bag, he hit me. The first time ever. I mean, he had shoved me around some, but never hit me across the face like that. He told me there was no leaving… that he would just find me and bring me home. Said no one would believe me or help because all of OUR friends knew how I was.”

“Talia, what did saying that out loud just now make you feel?”

My eyes drifted over to meet hers, “I don’t really feel anything.”

She arched a brow, “That’s because you're dissociating. I want you to focus on me as you speak and feel what you’re saying.”

Fuck. She wasn’t going to let me cheat my way through this like my therapist did. I pinched my brows together as my eyes teared up again. I had to face this. I closed my eyes briefly, exhaling slowly. When I opened them and met her gaze, she nodded for me to continue.

“He wasn’t wrong. I didn’t really have anyone to turn to. He made sure of that. He left after our argument, said he was going out with the guys. I doubt that’s where he went though. As soon as he left, I started drinking. I remember…feeling lost and pretty fucking hopeless after that. I couldn’t believe he hit me, and I was scared it would happen again. I never saw myself as someone who lets their husband abuse them…I felt disgusted over it. I must have drank a lot…because I can’t remember the rest of that night. I - I woke up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. I guess when he came home, he found me passed out in my own vomit.”

I started tapping on the arm of the chair as the tightness in my chest returned. The tears trickled out again.

“When Justin finally came to see me, I told him that I was done. If he didn’t let me go, I was gonna find a way out…one way or another and I would make sure everyone knew it was his fault. Given that I had just put myself in the hospital, he took me at my word and agreed on a divorce. I guess he was afraid of what I would do.”

“What did you mean by that?”

I gave a half smile, “I honestly don’t know. I wonder that myself…what I was capable of. If I could’ve done anything.”

“What happened after you both agreed to the divorce?”

“Well, when I was still in the hospital, I reached out to one of my best friends that I grew up with, Lauren. We had kept in touch, even though I actively worked to put up a wall between us so she wouldn’t know what was really going on in my life because I was so embarrassed over it. She didn’t hesitate…she was at the hospital within the hour, and I told her everything. I stayed with her for a few weeks until I got my life sorted out. I don’t think I would have been able to do it without her. Of course, Justin continued to torment me by dragging out the divorce for over a year. It got pretty nasty.”

“What effects do you feel like that experience had on you?” She asked quietly.

“Experience.” I chuckled. “I didn’t realize twelve years of hell could be considered an experience.”

She gave me a sympathetic look before I continued, “I mean, I lost myself. I didn’t know who I was. I was who he wanted me to be. After I left him, he was still in my head with everything I did. What I was wearing, how I fixed my hair and makeup, things I said. I couldn’t do some of the simplest things without hearing his voice telling me I was doing something wrong and having a fucking panic attack over it. I couldn’t make decisions…and yes, I would still drink to numb my feelings and calm myself down. Only this time, I knew exactly how much I could drink without taking it too far.”

“Are those things still an issue for you now?”

I shook my head, “No, I mean, I did all the cognitive behavioral therapy and the sessions. I eventually got to a point where the negative thoughts stopped. I think Dieter had a lot to do with that…he kind of helped me see myself in a different light…but I do still have anxiety sometimes and I think I’ve reverted back to ignoring my feelings… compartmentalizing everything and pretending it’s not there. Throwing myself into work and staying busy to keep my mind occupied. I’ve been doing that instead of drinking the feelings away.”

Dr. Rosenberg leaned forward, placing her elbow on her knee with a pensive look on her face.

“Talia…would you be willing to stay for the next three weeks to work through some of this with me? It would be outpatient treatment…a couple hours a day. You can stay in one of our apartments.”

I sucked in a quick breath. I certainly wasn’t expecting this, but at the same time, I almost felt relieved. My gut told me I needed it and I knew I couldn’t go on the way I had been because I was eventually going to self-destruct if I didn’t take better care of myself. I knew I couldn’t fully be there for Dieter if I was still battling with myself. I sat staring at my hands as I thought through the offer. I could still work remotely, so that wouldn’t be an issue. I raised my head to meet her eyes, “Will Dieter know what I’m doing?”

“Only if you want him to.”

“I don’t want to saddle him with my shit right now…I don’t wanna mess him up.”

“Honestly, I think he’s stable at this point. I think he could handle whatever you wanted to share with him. If you wanted, we could even do some more joint sessions, or he can just be there for support if you want him to be. It’s all up to you really.”

“What would you do?” I asked, letting out a stuttered breath with my question. She took a minute to consider her response, biting on the inside of her cheek as she did so.

“I don’t think it would be bad if you shared everything with him. The more open you are with one another, the better. Communication is going to be a huge factor in keeping your relationship healthy and happy. At least if he knows what’s going on he can support you, just like you support him. Also, if he needs help processing through things, we can help him with that while he’s here…but again, it’s your decision.”

“Yeah, I mean he knows most of it anyway…Alright, I’ll do it. I’ll stay and I want him involved.”

She gave me a bright smile, “I’m actually really happy to hear that. I think this will allow you to build a solid foundation going forward. I’m excited for your future together. I can tell that you both care deeply for each other and I really want your time here to be successful.”

I gave her thanks for the opportunity she was giving me. I’ve known for a while that I had things that I needed to work on but didn't really know where to start. The fact that Dieter seemed so at ease with her and was doing so well gave me some comfort and the courage to jump in head first.

The next three weeks were a whirlwind of educational sessions to help me learn about bipolar disorder; the triggers, coping strategies, and lifestyle changes to minimize stress. I even had an opportunity to learn more about Dieter’s medication and possible interactions and side effects so I would be able to spot them. He had asked that I be involved with his Interpersonal and Social Rhythm therapy, which was designed to help him build a daily routine of healthy habits to manage his moods. Given his job, sometimes a routine was almost impossible for him to keep, but we learned strategies to deal with that when confronted with it. It was all very helpful for the both of us.

I had my sessions too of course. He sometimes set in on them if we were doing something particularly hard that day. His presence helped keep me grounded and got me through a lot. He was taking time to learn about ways to help me cope better and we worked together on effective communication skills.

Dr. Rosenberg recommended that I start keeping a journal to help me work through my emotions. I was iffy about it at first, but Dieter was also doing it and he loved it. He was very encouraging about it. It was something that I had come to enjoy doing after a few days. We had even taken to having a shared journal between us to better communicate our feelings, which Dr. Rosenberg loved the idea of and encouraged.

Even though Dieter and I weren’t able to spend a whole lot of time together during those three weeks, I could always feel his presence and support. It’s what kept me going through it all. I don’t think I would have had the strength to do it without him. By the time my last day of treatment came around, he was given the all clear for discharge. It was both nerve wracking and exciting to know that we would be going home…together.

A/N: How excited are we that these two are finally back together? How badly did this chapter hit the feels? Did you cry? If you did, hopefully this will be the last time...unless you are a happy crier. There may be happy tears later. 😉 How are we feeling about Dieter's diagnosis? Does it change how you view some of his past behavior? What about that revelation from Talia? I mean, are we really surprised though; the girl has had a complicated relationship with alcohol throughout the whole story. How do you think things are going to go when they get back home? Do you think they will pick up where they left off or have some growing pains? We will find out in the next chapter. 😁 I am 100% failing at life and did not get the Deconstructing Dieter Bravo post done. I need to do a little fact checking and didn't have the brain power for it. However, once I get that ready, it will be posted HERE. The topic for Deconstructing Dieter Bravo Part 3 will be his diagnosis. I will tag all the usuals in the posts once it is ready. Hopefully you will find it to be educational. 💜 👉 I do want to share some details on upcoming projects that will be released for the holidays. I am participating in the @pedrostories Secret Santa event. I have received my gift prompt, and you may be excited to know that you will be getting a Dieter Bravo one shot from me by Christmas. I already have some ideas swirling around for it and it's not related to any current fics. It should be fun. Be sure to follow the #pedrostoriesgift23 hashtag to check out all the awesome work that will be included for the event. 👉 I will also be participating in the Pickled Peña event for the new year. I am going to try my hand at writing a little Javi P. for you. Follow @pickled-pena for updates and the hashtag #pickledpeña to see all madness (and I'm sure debauchery) that comes from this fun challenge. I also invite you all to join us! There is still time! It's going to be a blast! If you would like to be tagged on either of these one shots, let me know in the comments. 💜 As usual, I have included the chapter mood board below in case you missed it.😘

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thgegooberguy · 22 days

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please send help

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legendary-pink-dot · 8 months

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Bush Pilot

Pairing: Francisco "Catfish" Morales x female reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Oral sex (f receiving, and lots of it), fingering, semi-public sex, truck backseat shenanigans, seatbelts as restraints, established relationship, fetish/obsession for Frankie's hair, and a bit of masturbation (m)

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: A drive to an isolated beach to watch the sunrise, some time to kill before dawn, soft aftermarket seatbelts, and Frankie's superior night vision.

Notes: No use of "Y/N". The inspiration for this one came from a line in my fic Airport Pickup. This fic took FOREVER to finish as I've had very limited writing time lately. Hope you enjoy it. All my love to my magic sluts/cheerleaders who don't have to hear my whining about this fic anymore yay: @imalrightllama @basicoccult @exquisiteserotonin @youandmeand5bucks @arcanefox207 @sparklefarts38 @blueheat1-blog1 @redhotkitchen

You wake up to a bump in the road and an indigo sky. Not midnight dark anymore, but not quite twilight yet either. The dashboard clock reads 4:27 AM and you know it's correct because this is Frankie's truck, and everything about it has been meticulously maintained. Its owner is particular that way.

Frankie notices you stir and twines his hand into yours, resting it against your thigh, his fingers squeezing gently. "Hey, perfect timing. Almost there."

"Sorry, fell asleep. I hate mornings." You crack open the passenger window, breathing in the crisp pre-dawn air. A bracing whiff of ocean salt fills your senses as you start to rouse.

"I know. It'll be worth it, cariño, promise. The sunrises are amazing here."

Another 20 minutes on this quiet road -- nobody else out driving at this hour -- until Frankie slowly rolls the truck to a stop and parks. You get out and stretch your tired limbs.

No streetlights here, no moon, and the stars are mostly washed out at this hour, but you can hear the surf just steps away, lightly lapping at a shore that you can't see. You curse your crappy night vision, knowing that Frankie has the edge in seeing through dim lighting, with all the night flying and navigation he's done over his years in the service.

"We still have some time before the sunrise," Frankie says, giving you a hug and feeling you shiver. You sigh into his hug, and he rests his chin on the top of your head for a minute or two. "Come on, let's wait inside. I've got blankets in the back seat."

You both climb into the back seat of the truck, and he unfolds a crazy-looking 1970s-style afghan.

"Where did you get this thing? Standard military issue?"

"Don't be mean," Frankie laughs, wrapping the blanket around you both and snuggling in. "My abuela made it for me a long time ago."

"Does she know it's your truck sex blanket?"

Frankie shuffles closer, sliding a hand up your chest and around your neck to pull your face close. "I've never used it for that." He kisses a whisper against your mouth. "Yet."

As you make out, slow and sweet, Frankie presses you further into the corner of the seat until you feel something dig into your side. It's the shoulder seatbelt and as you push it out of the way, you're surprised at how soft and silky it feels, like some luxury fabric instead of an industrial strip of webbing, and you stroke it with your hand.

"Aftermarket belts," Frankie says, watching you with a pleased expression. "The stock ones were too scratchy and uncomfortable."

"Too scratchy? That sounds like a made-up problem."

Frankie smirks. "I like my passengers to be comfortable." He slides a hand slowly down your body, his knuckles gently tracing your curves, his palm coming to rest over your center, already heated from the make-out session. "Would you like me to make you more comfortable?"

"Mmmm, yes please," you purr, kissing him more forcefully this time, nipping his lips and searching for his tongue with yours. You find it, tangle with it, suck it into your mouth, so focused on the kiss that you don't even notice he's holding your forearm and has gently wrapped the webbing of the shoulder belt around it twice.

He pauses, breaking the kiss and allowing you a second to check what he's doing. "Is this okay?"

"Very okay," you breathe against his mouth, unsure exactly what he'll do to you once you're restrained but eager to find out. He'd discovered early on in your relationship that restraints were something you liked, and he loved to indulge you. "Keep going."

--click--

Frankie smiles as he slots the latch into the seatbelt buckle and locks it into place.

The webbing is soft against your skin, and a little loose when you give it an experimental tug. "Tighter," you rasp, excitement growing fast. He adjusts the tension with the built-in clip until it's perfect for you.

You snake your free hand into his hair, already desperate to touch what you can and desperate to get your mouth on his again. He allows you to tug on his curls as you kiss, but only for a moment. His hand grabs your free forearm, forcefully this time, and pins it to the back of the seat.

"None of that," he tuts gently, wrapping the other side's shoulder belt around it. "We came here to see the sunrise, remember? Don't have much time."

--click--

"But Frankie..." you whine, testing the pull of the seatbelts and finding no slack. "I wanna feel you."

What was the line between obsession and fetish? It was something you often wondered about. His hair, his medium-brown hair that loosely curled and held shimmering flecks of silver, drove you absolutely mad. Every time you met up the very first thing you did was bury your fingers in it, the tips of the curls spiky on your palms, feeding some sort of physiochemical need you couldn't name and didn't really care to. Not being able to sate that need in this moment made you physically ache.

The seatbelt was wrapped around your forearm with the intention to let you slip out of it easily enough if you had to. But did you want to? Cravings are strong, but the deliciousness of prolonging the ache even stronger, and at this moment you don't know which you want more. The anticipation never felt so good.

Frankie senses your turmoil. He sits back and makes eye contact in the growing light, and runs a hand slowly through his hair. He even plumps the curls at his nape and fluffs one long curl that's fallen over his forehead, smiling innocently. You know he can see your fingers twitching. Bastard.

"Something wrong, cariño?" he smirks, and you can't hold back a whimper as you feel yourself clench around absolutely nothing.

"Francisco, you're a fucking menace."

"I know, I know," he soothes. "And you love it, don't you?" He leans forward and shakes his hair right into your face, but before you can swear at him some more, his curls are gently stroking your collarbone that's naked and exposed by your low-cut sundress. You whimper again, this time a pathetically needy sound, and he takes pity on you and caresses his hair over your bound forearms and hands, the ache in your fingers abating from finally, finally reaching some kind of goal.

"There you go, that's it," croons Frankie, kissing your skin swelling out between the webbing, moving down your arm and up to your shoulder. "Just a taste for you. More later. I want mine now."

In a single movement he hikes up the hem of your sundress with one hand and lifts your hip, and slides the other hand down the back of your underwear to pull them down your legs and off. Gripping a bare ankle in each hand, he spreads your legs as wide as he knows is comfortable for you. You feel split open, exposed and excited, and he's barely touched you yet.

The light is so dim that his eyes are in shadow for you, but you know they're wide and dark as his gaze takes you in, his face so close to your center you can feel his breath on your inner thighs.

"Can you see enough to work down there?"

"Of course," says Frankie, sounding almost insulted as he gently shifts your hips to pull you closer to his mouth. "I'm used to flying before sunrise. You know, I can land almost anywhere, in any terrain, because..."

You groan, knowing what's coming. "No, please... no aviation jokes..."

"...I'm a certified bush pilot." He snickers into your thigh, kissing it hard to try to mask his laughter.

"Bush pilot, really? That better not be a complaint about my wild foliage or something."

One of the things he had made clear early in your relationship, in his quiet and unassuming way, was that your grooming habits and preferences were none of his damn business. A refreshing attitude after years of dating men who had lots of unsolicited and unwanted opinions about your pubic hair and how they wanted you to maintain it. As if it existed just for them. Fuck that. Frankie never tried to change you -- he simply adapted to whatever was. One of the reasons why you adored him.

"Oh no, cariño," Frankie's voice drops deep in that way you know he's genuinely serious. "I fucking love your bush." He lowers his face to your mound and gently tugs a few hairs between his teeth. You hiss at the prickly feeling, sharp but not painful, slipping into a loud cry as he dives his tongue deep into your entrance to eagerly prove his point.

You'd never been with someone who loved pussy eating as much as him. Maybe it mirrored your obsession-sorta-fetish for his hair. Impeccable sexual compatibility, you and Frankie.

It's different each time, and this extra-early morning he explores every fold with his tongue, his lips, his teeth, scratching the surfaces and then delving deeper. He doesn't even need to look up at you to know that your eyes are shut despite the dark and that you're lost in feeling.

Every change in your breathing, the tenor and pitch of your sighs and moans, the little wiggle of your hips when his tongue flicks here instead of there. Those are the cues he looks for and the only ones he needs, and he quickly takes you as high as you can go and stays with you all the way back down.

Frankie is relentless, barely giving you time to recover before latching back onto your clit, nudging you past your overstimulation, somehow knowing just how much extra you can take. He always knows.

You barely catch your breath before he's absolutely devouring you again, lightly capturing your folds between his teeth and exploring each one as if he's kissing your mouth for the first time, moving his head to approach your center from every possible angle from his confined position and adjusting his hold on your thighs to match.

He gently slides a thick finger inside you. The stretch is a lot, it always is with him, and he lets you adjust to it before adding a second finger, and presses them as far up as they'll go, his callused fingertips teasing the edge of your most sensitive spot.

Your hips start to move of their own accord but his free hand holds you down as he keeps his fingers inside you right where they are, demanding you concentrate on feeling the pressure and stretch instead of seeking motion.

From above he almost chews on your clit, which you never considered to be a thing you'd like but you are suddenly now forever feral for, and you wiggle your hips as much as you can, desperate to get him exactly where you need him most, giving only one fleeting thought to anyone else parked at the end of this road who might be hearing your loud moans right now.

With his tongue and his fingers he holds you in that sweet limbo state, your conscious mind wanting it to go on forever but your body craving release. You can't choose which one you want more, until you see the first rays of the sun peek out over the horizon and it distracts your mind just enough for your body to fall over the crest again, louder and more intense this time, gushing and squeezing and fluttering around his fingers until he slowly pulls them out.

You were so blissed out that you never noticed Frankie had been pressing and rubbing his crotch against the floor, the seat, whatever he could find while he was eating you out. The back seat of the truck is quickly filling with light and you watch him unzip his jeans just enough to pull out his cock, hard and leaking.

If you weren't so zoned out, if he just gave you a few minutes to recover, you'd be happy to help him, but he's too impatient and fucks his fist with sloppy motions. It's a hypnotic sight, the pinkish tip peeking out between his thick fingers and then disappearing for a second in a desperate rhythm, and you slide your hands free from the seatbelts just in time to grab his hair and give the curls a hard pull, seconds before he comes in hot spurts across your thighs and swollen cunt, choking out a cry that again made you glad he had brought you to this beach so early in the day.

Thankfully, he didn't get any on the blanket. You shake it out and wrap it around both of you as he snuggles up beside you on the seat.

"Good?"

"Good. Very good."

"Yeah."

Your breaths gradually slow as you watch the fireball in the sky inch higher, your hand mindlessly finding his hair and repeatedly twisting a curl around your finger.

The truck cab finally fills with full daylight, showing you an inviting and isolated strip of beach, and no other vehicles. Frankie was right -- it was worth getting up early for this sunrise. And it was amazing.

"Frankie?"

"Mmmmm?"

"Tell me more about what it takes to be a bush pilot."

#francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal #frankie morales fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #I might be a teensy bit obsessed with his hair #juice collective #pedro pascal hair appreciation

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exquisiteserotonin · 2 months

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Ternion

Word count: 3.3K

Pairing: Young Mr. Ben SNL(as a TA, Grad Assistant)xFemale ReaderxProfessor Jonathan Levy Scenes From a Marriage

Rating: E! For explicit (18+ only, MDNI)

Warnings: Threesome, Power Imbalance, Brat Taming, Oral Sex (F! Receiving), somewhat degrading actions

Summary: Your friend and fellow graduate assistant Ben asks you to come over to his place for help with another task that your overbearing advising professor, Jonathan Levy, has dumped on the both of you.

A/N: I don’t typically subscribe to the whole professor student thing, but this was begging to be written and I hope this means I am out of my funk and my damn season of writer’s block is over. I hope you enjoy and as always reblog, comment, engage! I would love to hear from you!

And to my sluts thank you as always for giving me your magic! @magpiepillsjunior @magpiepills @youandmeand5bucks @legendary-pink-dot @pink-whiskey-woman @redhotkitchen @arcanefox207 @for-a-longlongtime

Ternion

Ternion: a group of three, a triad; a section of a paper of book containing three double leaves or twelve pages

Your eyes were beginning to glaze over as you stared at your laptop screen. It was another long afternoon of compiling participant demographics and data from your advising professor’s study in your closet of an office. You closed your laptop a little harder than you should have as you began to pack up for the day. The parking lot behind your building was nearly empty, most students having left for the day. As you drove home, you had visions of cozying up on the couch with your blanket, drinking an adult beverage, and binge watching your favorite tv show.

You were only a few miles from your house, when the infotainment screen in your car flashed with a familiar contact: Ben, your office mate and fellow graduate assistant. Deliberation coursed through the pads of your fingertips and against your better judgment you answered.

“Hey Ben, what’s up?”

“Hey,” his voice echoed with a hesitancy, “Professor Levy asked me a for a favor and I—“

“Are you serious, Ben?” You groaned in exasperation. “This is such bullshit. ”

“I know, I know—I hate to ask but would you come over and help me out?”

Say no. Say no. Say no, your brain said on repeat. Desperation wafted from his hushed voice in a way that immediately unlocked your kindness. You just knew he was pouting, running his hands through his chocolate brown hair while somehow making his already big eyes even bigger, like glassy orbs of whiskey on ice: against your silent protests that he NOT be so easy to say yes to. But aside from that he was also the kind of colleague who’d help you out in a pinch…and too damn attractive for his own good. It certainly made having him as your office mate interesting and frustrating at times.

You gripped the steering wheel before announcing your decision.

“Well, I was legitimately on my way home,” you replied with a deliberately loud sigh. “But yeah, sure.”

It was a bitch move, you knew, but you needed your displeasure to be known. A small part of you felt bad about being so vocal with your frustration. It wasn’t Ben’s fault, but he needed to know the inconvenience of it all. You would not be at your professor’s beck and call. Especially on a goddamn Friday night.

“Just give me some time to head over,” you huffed and added, “I can’t be over there in a snap like Professor Levy would want.

“Hey now,” Ben spoke in a firm whisper that somehow still held a hint of kindness despite your bite, “don’t shoot the messenger.”

You turned the car around and headed to Ben’s house. You found parking on the street and walked up the stairs to the door of his small Brownstone. You pushed the doorbell and found yourself brushing your hands through your waves and cautiously smelling yourself.

Passable. You thought to yourself.

Then he answered the door, emerging in a snug navy blue v-neck and loose gray sweatpants slung low on his narrow hips. A hint of skin teased you between the hem of his shirt and the elastic of his pants. They held onto his hips for dear life with nothing but the insurance of a haphazardly tied drawstring. You nearly whimpered at the sight of him.

What a fucking tease. Get a hold yourself, woman.

You breezed through his door without a word, trying to quell your craving and channel it to the frustration you felt with your advising professor. This was his fault anyway.

“Um…hello to you, too,” he greeted.

Your hands were placed firmly on your hips when you turned back to face him. One of his brows was cocked at you, already waiting for another snarky response. You couldn’t help but pout back at him. He knew you too well.

“Just like him to not give you a weekend off,” you huffed.

“You don‘t even know what I‘m going to ask you,” his voice was low and sterner than you had ever heard before. “I‘m starting to think you like a little fight.“

The way his eyes bore into you was so deep, it was nearly a glare. He held his chin up in the slightest way, arrogant enough that it demanded your attention to his strong neck. It wasn’t long before you felt tiny sparks of electricity traveling over every inch of skin of your body. It didn’t help that he stood with his hips pushed forward in the most arrogant and un-Ben-like way.

“Wow, if only you could give a little bit of that attitude back to Professor Levy,” you said with some bite and unconstrained breathiness.

Conveying the facade of confidence was important. Especially in situations like this.

Ben stepped forward, his shirt and sweatpants clinging against his body in exactly the right way.

“You’re only proving me right,” he purred, now only inches from you.

Do not moan. Do not moan. Do not moan.

“Just give her what we know she needs, Ben,” you heard a polished voice command from the shadows of another room.

A different kind of heat crept over your face and neck after hearing the familiar voice.

What were the chances?

You looked towards the shadows to see Professor Levy swaggering towards you. He pushed forward a few steps, placing his hands in his trousers pockets before leaning against the wall to watch you. His eyes were low and piercing and he licked his lips that rested beneath his salt and pepper beard.

“Of course he’s here,” it came out as the repressed moan you were fighting against.

Professor Levy nodded towards Ben in acknowledgment of some kind of unspoken agreement. Faster than you could think or speak, Ben pulled your body tightly against his, grinding against you as he pressed his lips to yours in a hungry and greedy kiss.

You didn’t expect for Ben’s lips to feel as soft as they did. They were even softer when he parted yours with a firm lick of his tongue. The heat rose within you as his large hands wrapped around your waist, finding your skin beneath your shirt as he pressed your bodies even closer together. With every move he demanded you feel every twitch of his cock for you.

“W—wait!” You gasped, pushing him from you.

Your eyes moved from Ben to Professor Levy, a strange mix of unbridled desire and anxiousness stirring in the lowest part of your stomach. Ben’s thick fingers managed to keep a possessive grip on your hips that you didn’t brush away, despite the way your brain was spinning in want of answers.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You demanded of both of them.

The two men shared another knowing look that stoked the flame of your frustration. Professor Levy raised an eyebrow before removing his glasses and wiping them on a cloth he pulled from his shirt pocket. You couldn’t help but keep your eyes on him as he strutted towards you, his fingers weaving through the gunmetal ringlets of his hair. You rolled your eyes with disdain for his insufferable ways of working, but found yourself burning from your center with intrigue at what those fingers might be able to work on you.

“Always with the snark,” your professor directed the words towards Ben who responded with a shrug and a smirk.

“You will not talk about me like I’m not in the room,” you paused, turning to him and holding your eyes directly to his, “Jonathan.”

He one more large stride forward until he, too, was inches from you.

“I think you mean professor,” he commanded, continuing to advance on you until you backed into Ben.

A moan escaped you as Ben stood like a wall behind you. With your chest heaving up and down, Professor Levy brushed a strand of hair from your face with his long, lithe fingers. Yet they didn‘t stop there. The heat continued to rise from the three of you as the professor‘s hand journeyed down the curve of your body until they met Ben‘s at your hip. They shared a look of longing before turning that desire towards you. And in the strangest turn of events, the professor’s lips were on yours with his tongue paying adoration to your pouty lower lip.

Unable to contain the desire that trembled within, you let out a long, loud whimper as Professor Levy gently trapped your lower lip with his teeth. You already thought the feeling of Ben’s throbbing cock at your lower back was enough to drive you mad, but somehow you knew you were going to be pushed to your limit the moment Professor Levy took your hand to his pants until he pushed your palm to feel him twitch with desire for you.

The part of your brain that held your common sense screamed at you, demanding you not give him the satisfaction. But every other part of it, along with every part of your body, beckoned you to give in. The feeling of Ben’s massive hand moving to the front of your waist was followed by his thick fingers inching towards the front of your jeans. You couldn’t help but pant as you felt his hot breath brush the back of your neck.

“You can’t tell me that this isn’t better than the fight you put up,” Ben’s voice came to your ear in a low growl.

He wasn’t wrong. But ever true to yourself, you bit your lip and replied with a little extra spice, “I think that remains to be seen.”

Your words made Ben snap his hips forward against you with a gravelly moan. Within Professor Levy’s mahogany eyes you could see from his heavy-lidded stare the desire the two men held for each other while searching for their reason to include you.

Professor Levy lifted your chin with a push of two strong fingers, silently ordering you to look squarely into his bespectacled eyes before he spoke, “You definitely need to be taught a lesson.”

You found yourself following him to Ben’s large leather couch, with Ben close behind you, his fingers intertwined in yours. Professor Levy took his place first like a king warming his throne. He smirked as he taunted you by unbuttoning his shirt. He manipulated each button with skillful fingers until he slipped it off and let it fall to the living room floor. He spread his legs wide as he sat, smoothing his hands over the soft fabric of pants that covered his strong thighs.

Ben nibbled playfully at your neck and then your ear with desperate and needy breaths. His warm hands slowly slid beneath your shirt, moving upwards until he massaged your breasts with paws massive enough that they made them feel small. Before you could even think your shirt was gone followed by your bra.

Professor Levy beckoned you to him as he rubbed his thighs, “Come sit here…now.”

This time, you submitted without a fight, feeling the way your skin nearly melted into his as you let your back rest against his chest. His beard tickled the skin of your ear as he licked at the bottom of it. His supple fingertips reached under your arms until they found the altar of your nipples. You rolled back against him as he tortuously began to caress, flick, and pinch them even slower and more skillfully than he had with the buttons of his shirt.

“Ben,” your professor called to your colleague, friend…inevitable lover, “come here.”

You dragged your nails along the waist of his low slung sweatpants while he lifted his shirt over his head. You kept your fingers just above his waistband while he leaned over the couch towards you and your professor. It was mesmerizing to watch how these two beautiful men looked at each other with such intimacy and longing as you lay between them. Your professor took a hand from your nipples and brought it possessively to the back of Ben’s neck, pulling his face to his before licking his bottom lip and pressing onto his mouth for a slow, sensuous kiss.

“Fuck.”

There were no other words you had that could possibly convey the carnal state of desire you had fallen into. Hungrily, you pulled at the drawstrings of Ben’s sweatpants before reaching your hand to the waistband. In a lightning fast move, your professor pulled it away, squeezing your fingers between his.

“Tsk, tsk, not without my express permission,” Professor Levy scolded in a low, buttery whisper.

Slowly, Ben positioned himself at your legs, his hands caressing your waist until he began rubbing your professor’s thighs with you. Professor Levy grabbed Ben’s hand and squeezed it before lowering his eyes to him.

He spoke with unwavering confidence coating every word as he gave Ben a command that sent shivers spiraling outward from your wet center.

“Taste her.”

The wanton darkness that overcame Ben’s eyes and the smirk that curled the corner of his upper lip coaxed your heart and your pussy to throb even more than you anticipated. Your professor’s demand spurred Ben to pull off your jeans and underwear even faster than you could put any thoughts together. You sat naked between the two men in so many more ways than you’d imagined you ever would be. Through your dizzying thoughts, Ben placed a firm grip on your legs pressing them a part.

Any words you thought you could form in your head only came out in quick, pulsing gasps. An unbridled heat spread all over your body as you felt Ben’s broad fingers handle your outer lips until they began to line themselves up at your slit.

“Jonathan, she’s so fucking wet,” his voice was hushed and his breath was so hot against your pussy.

Professor Levy’s response came out in a guttural moan that met your body by way of hands continuing to work on your nipples. The theme of surprise continued as your professor and Ben played off one another in ways that only happened when two people knew each other beyond words. Ben’s nose pressed into your mound as he licked a slow, deep stripe up your center.

“Oh my god,” You cried, finding your professor’s hand with a desperate grasp as Ben began working on your pussy with slow, luxurious and hungry swirls until he moved into a varied and unexpected pace that had you shaking, writhing, and bucking against his every move. Each time his tongue worked on you, he pushed you to the very edge of ecstasy over and over and over again.

He moved his worship to your clit and pressed his face and tongue deeper into you, eliciting a cry from you that filled the room, “Jesus, Ben, fuck oh my—Professor!!”

You pressed one hand through Ben’s waves and gripped Professor Levy’s thigh while riding your high.

“Ben, tell me what she tastes like.”

He lifted his face from your center, lips and chin dripping with your spend.

“Like heaven.”

Ben looked up at you, his eyes glassy with passion and also shining with the gleam of a man hungry for more. The sight of him caused you to whimper. You had never studied his face this way before even though you shared a small space together almost daily. The broad bridge of his nose sloped downward and he breathed you in with a playful smirk before adorning your outer lips with a delicate kiss. You thread your fingers through the disheveled locks of his hair, smiling back at him until your lips opened once more as he teased you with more caresses of his fingers.

“He’s good isn’t he?” Professor Levy growled into your ear.

Your brain was spinning, your body shaking in anticipation of what was to come next. Professor Levy reached an arm over your body, maneuvering his hand towards your neck and without missing a beat, Ben pressed his mouth onto you again sucking at your lips before he dipped his tongue into you again. He continued to venerate every fold with abandon, moaning with each taste he had of you like it were the best meal he’d ever had. You didn’t think it could get any better, especially with the pressure of your professor’s hand at your neck matching the intensity of each manipulation of Ben’s tongue.

And then…

One…two of his broad fingers reached into you, curling into your tight wet pussy while his tongue paid particular devotion to your clit.

“Ah, oh my god, fuck!” You came crying, writhing, and losing any more words the tighter your professor’s grip became.

Ben’s voice vibrated against you with a low, carnal laugh as you felt the slick sensation spill from your center onto the leather beneath you. He then pressed his hands lightly at your lower belly, causing you to shudder with even more aftershocks from your orgasm. You worked through catching your breath and looked down at him. The face he greeted you with as you caressed his wavy locks was that of a bold and satisfied man who knew he could do that to you again.

Ben rose up from the floor and leaned forward until his face was close to yours. You relaxed and leaned your head back against your professor’s as he eased his hold at your neck. In an unexpected moment of tenderness, Professor Levy threaded his fingers between yours.

Ben’s eyes shined as he looked toward you and then your professor. The simultaneously tender and sensual intimacy they shared was amplified in this quiet moment. It felt so private that you were almost embarrassed by having witnessed it.

“Wanna have a taste?” Ben asked as he pressed his thumb still damp from you to Professor Levy’s bottom lip.

Your professor took it, sucking at the tip savoring the taste of you on Ben’s skin. Heavy-lidded with lust, Professor Levy let go of Ben’s thumb and then licked his lips.

“Mmm, sweet,” he murmured with a seductive and low rumble coming from the back of his throat.

Ben stood up and lifted his chin with a proud smirk. He walked to what you assumed was his bedroom and then turned around to lean against the doorway. The way he leaned his elbow above him and his other hand resting at his hip demanded you pay attention to his defined torso. The waistband of his sweatpants sat so low that your eyes had no choice but to travel down the peppering of brown hair that led to the thick treasure you were becoming so desperate for.

A light squeeze of your thighs by your professor was your signal to stand. He walked around you and used his eyes to study every curve of your body. A light touch of his fingers beneath your chin had you breathing hard again as his gaze now demanded that you give him your own. The breath from his mouth danced upon your lips. Yet instead of taking you in for a kiss, he turned from you with his hands in his pockets. You stood naked before both men watching you, waiting for you, bodies reaching for you from a doorway to a room and to a deed that you could never really come back from.

And the decision was clear. There was no way in hell you could turn back now.

You stepped forward. The old, hardwood floors creaked beneath your feet.

“Wait,” Professor Levy called out.

You closed your eyes with a sharp intake of breath and you stopped as he had demanded. Your breath quivered as you waited for what they had in store for you.

He shared another look with Ben, his eyes lowering and the brown of them becoming devilish and dark.

“Get on your knees and crawl.”

#juice collective #friends of the juice collective #pedro pascal character fanfiction #oscar isaac character fanfiction #mr. ben x reader #mr. ben snl #pedro pascal fandom #jonathan levy #scenes from a marriage #smut writing

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officialcat · 2 months

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i'm objectively correct

i believe they also may all collectively like cream soda

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #laois touden #falin touden #dunmeshi #chilchuck tims #marcille donato #kabru dungeon meshi #jesus that's so many dudes #wait #izutsumi #senshi dungeon meshi #senshi of izganda #sorry i forgot the father catdaughter #also laois would collect those character head juice cups but with monsters. or maybe make them

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pink-whiskey-woman · 8 months

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Cruel Summer

You swore to yourself you’d never fall in love with any small, sweltering, middle of nowhere town but here you were settled down in Dynamite, Texas population 1,313 two stoplights dot the entire city. Back roads and flowering fields litter your view as far as your eye can see. You live in a modest little house that your new remote job’s salary is helping pay for. You pull into your driveway and notice the handsome stranger next door looking at the shingles and eaves of your sweet neighbor Joan’s house. Unloading your groceries you can’t help but notice the tan forearms and taut chest underneath a dusty blue tee shirt and strong looking legs and a small but pert looking ass in faded blue jeans. You yank the last of your bags out of your car when you hear a deep southern drawl behind you, “Can I give you a hand with your bags?” You turn around to face deep brown eyes, patchy beard with a heart near the chin and dimple and a sweet toothy smile. “Sure, you manage to get out, “names Joel and you are” as Joel grabs the majority of your bags biceps flexing underneath their weight and you stare unconsciously at them. “Your name is” he trails off and breaks your very obvious eye contact with his arms, the dimple showing and the blush creeping up your neck and face. “It’s Taylor” you say sweetly “nice to meet you Joel”. You grab the few bags not in his hands and your keys and unlock your front door that opens into a small but cozy living room and your very girlie pink kitchen, a poster of Taylor Swift hangs on your wall from her Eras tour and Joel chuckles when he sees it. “What, you ask incredulously, she was amazing in concert”.”I went with work friends and we had a fantastic girls night and drank and danced and relived our college years” “Just didn’t think you’d be into someone like that but hey whatever floats your boat darlin” He lays the bags on your kitchen table and helps you put stuff away seamlessly like you’ve known each other for years. After everything is put you away you offer Joel a drink to thank him and you wind up talking for what seems like forever. You talk about past lives, what brought you to Dynamite, dating history, favorite drinks, food, everything.

After a few good glasses of wine and a good buzz growing between the two of you, you decide to sit outside in the cool Texas night air and continue talking and somewhat flirting. Joel grabs another glass of wine and drags his fingers lazily across your arms as he goes to sit down giving you goosebumps in the process and a familiar tug of heat starting to build in your stomach. As you continue to talk his full lips and chocolate colored eyes draw you in just as sweet as his molasses sweet voice. You move closer to him on the front porch swing the scent of smoke and blackberries of the wine and his musk create an intoxicating combination and it draws you like a moth to a flame. The stars splay out over the midnight sky and your hands comes to rest on Joel’s thigh his large hand intertwining in yours, the heat continuing to simmer within you. “Definitely a beautiful night out tonight, so clear and this is the first time I’ve seen so many stars” you whisper and your face is dangerously close to his. He turns to face you eyes wide and with the haze of wine buzz his hand cups your chin and kisses your lips softly the tang of wine and cigarettes mixes headily in your mouth and your curl your tongue around his pulling it into yours more and his kisses get hungrier and more fast paced, his hands now wandering down your tank top to your chest pushing the strap down to reveal a baby blue lacy bra cup. His mouth leaves yours and licks and sucks down your neck dotting you with tiny little marks as the blush continues to bloom on your chest and cheeks. His mouth settles on the bra cup and his hands yanks down the cup to roll and pinch your nipple until it is a tender bud and it elicits soft moans out of your lips the swing tugging and moving hard on its chain and Joel continues to need your nipple and breast with his hands and mouth your hands steady on his muscular thighs and briefly moving upwards towards the growing bulge in his jeans. “Let’s go back inside onto a more comfortable surface the swing kisn’t made for this you playfully say”. Joel scoops you in his arms and kicks ope your back door ad you lead him down the hall past the kitchen to your bedroom, your heaven on earth. Walls a cool slate blue frame, a 4 post bechd and a big fluffy yet firm mattress. He tosses you onto the mattress and yanks off his shirt revealing a solid chest, golden tan skin and defined yet soft belly a sprinkle of hair leading down below his navel and those delicious arms of his. You take your tank off and shimmy out of your shorts the baby blue set you wore on full display for him. He pushes you up your bed and takes his belt off slowly wrapping it around your wrists and securing you to your headboard propped up against your pillows. Thank god you decided to open a window earlier so a cool breeze floats through what is obvious body heat building between the two of you. Joel continues his climb over you and all you can feel is heat and man and sex. He reaches around you and snaps your bra open and holding a wrist in each hand unloops the restraint so he can fling your bra onto the floor and just as quickly you're restrained again. His mouth is on you like a heatseek missile rolling nipples into tight sensitive buds licking and sucking little lip marks on the curves and peaks of your breasts and all you can do is writhe beneath him and moan as he pushes every button of yours to perfection. “Doin ok darlin? And all you can get out is “Yes, please keep going” the heat burning inside of you and a wetness builds in your lacy panties that you can feel and that your pray Joel explores too. Your thoughts must be telekinetic as immediately Joel moves down your chest softly kissing your stomach feeling the skin flutter beneath his lips before trailing lower and lower his lips whispering over the waistband of your panties. “ Such a good girl getting wet for me already.. I knew I’d like you and like getting you worked up”. His hands moved down the sides of your body slowly, meticulously as if he were taking in every inch and memorizing it.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband and tugged them down revealing a soft thatch of hair above soft pink sex already glistening with wetness. His fingers stroked the top of your mound making you feel heat in your body in places it never felt before and lingered a bit before tracing down your folds and opening you up to trace lines before finding your clit with his thumb and rolling over it with the pads of his finger. The sensation pulsates through your body as he breaks the tension by taking two large fingers and thrusting them inside you, scissoring you open and working you for what's bursting at the seams in his jeans. HIs fingers and thumbs are coaxing you to wiggle and strain against your restraint, the leather making imprints on your wrists but you don’t care. The faster he thrusts his fingers the more you buck your hips against them, willing him to go harder and faster the veins popping under his forearm as he flexes deep within you the pressure continuing to build like a tea kettle hot steamy and ready to boil. Joel continues fucking you with his fingers the noises coming from you are obscene and the louder they get the ore you moan and the moans spur Joel on to add a third finger. All three fingers plus his thumb rolling on your cit have you seeing stars and squirming and pulling at the belt to be released. Joel takes his free hand and anchors it gently at the base of your throat and pushes, hard, but not suffocating and holds you in place as he lowers his mouth and seals his lips over your clit and sucks making the squelching louder and your moans rolling out of your mouth along with exclamations of “Fuck, Joel, don’t stop” and he does not alternating his thumb fingers and tongue in one rhythmic decent on your sex and you feel the heat bubbling to the service and you cannot hold it in anymore. You scream and soak his fingers with your slick and t goes all over his face and fingers and he buries his face in your chest and talks you through your release the slick sticky and sheened on him and your thighs. He takes his fingers out and puts them to you lips and you open and suck greedily tasting yourself and the salt of his skin in your mouth and you want more. “Unhook me so I can make you feel as good as you just did” and Joel releases your wrists from his belt and you shake your wrists out. You undo his jeans button and zipper and slide them down taking his boxer briefs with. His erection springs out and it is just as you imagined thick veiny and with a velvety soft foreskin that has stretched and shown his true size. You push him back on your bed and take the tip swollen and leaking salty drops of precum into your mouth and swirl the head around teasing the slit with your tongue. You lick up and down the veiny shaft and foreskin and see the muscles in your stomach tense with every touch. You take him inch by inch and whatever doesn’t fit in your mouth you work with your hands until it is a stiff peak in your mouth, hard and glorious and massive. “ Darlin, I wanna fuck you I promise I’ll let you finish me later but right now I want your pretty pussy around my cock” he sweetly whispers. You slide your mouth off with a pop and he flips you on all four, knee nudging your legs apart so he can see everything. Your sex is swollen and puffy and wet again and he spits on it for a little extra friction. His cock is hard and he teases you by slapping against your clit and the touch shoots electricity throughout your body. He notches himself at your entrance and eases in inch by inch the stretch feels like a workout and your body contorts to fit around his massive python but the feeling is delicious.

He pulls out again but this time fills you entirely with one thrust the feeling indescribable pleasure mixed with slight pain he wraps one strong arm around you and the other grabs your hip tight enough to make a bruise as he behind a steady pace of thrusts your body backing up to meet his every move sweat beading on both of your bodies the pace quickening as you buck against him his arm wrapped around snakes down to your clit rolling it between his fingers the nerves feeling like bolts of lightning between your thighs,his cock filling you devilishly balls slapping against your ass cheek each thrust harder than before the tip of his cock hitting your cervix and the secret spots you thought no one would ever reach each move bringing your both closer to climax. “I’m getting close Joel” you grit out and all you hear in return are grunts and the occasional Fuck which means to you hes in agreement. His thrusts are harder and you feel white hot heat building in your core and as he's thrusting before you know it you are squirting soaking his cock stars and galaxies shining behind your eyes. Joel’s release comes not much after and he paints your insides with thick ropes of hot, milky cum that spills onto his cock and out of you after he pulls out. The ache between your legs is exquisite and you shake as he pushes his cum back into you and makes you hold it. By now a slow sleepy haze fills your room and you both get lazily dressed. “ You gonna be a good girl and keep that cum in you until I come back later tonight”? You coo out a sweet “Yes baby” and walk him to the door.He kisses you softly and slowly and gets back in his truck and takes off back home. You close the door and put the tightest but comfy panties you own back on making sure not to spill a drop out of you. You turn your Alexa on and cruel summer is on the chorus just about to hit “It’s new the shape of your body” and you laugh to yourself.If this is what Taylor means by a cruel summer you are all in and cannot wait for night to come so you can see Joel again.

As always a shout to my magical slutty coven love you bitches!!!

@sparklefarts38 @imalrightllama @arcanefox207 @basicoccult @magpiepills @exquisiteserotonin @legendary-pink-dot @youandmeand5bucks @redhotkitchen

#joel tlou #pedro pascal x you #juice collective

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milla-frenchy · 12 days

Text

Owned

354 words | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 Warnings: 18+ mdni. age gap, infidelity, daddy kink, possessiveness, piv, creampie a/n: Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing 💕

Masterlist

***************

“Fuck…spread your legs for me. Yeah, just like that. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.”

Joel was holding your knees on either side of your head, hands resting on the back of your thighs, as he was thrusting in hard and fast. His gaze was down at your pussy taking his big cock, splitting you in two, and sometimes your mouth could barely make any sounds other than moans.

“Daddy…”

“Yeah, baby girl? Talk to me. Tell me what you want.”

“Want you to ruin my cunt, daddy…”

“Fuck…I'm already holding back from sending my load baby…this little pussy is squeezing me so tight.”

He sped up slightly, to give you what you wanted and gritted his teeth, frowning.

“That’s what you wanted, baby girl? Gettin’ your little cunt fucked like a good little slut?”

“Yes, daddy…just like that.”

“Tell me who owns this pussy.”

“You, daddy. It’s yours.”

“And when he fucks you, whose pussy is that?”

“Still yours. Only yours. Always.”

He growled, as if it was turning him on even more, as he was still thrusting, even deeper and harder than 10 seconds before.

“Fuck, fuck. Touch yourself, baby girl. Not gonna last. Come on my cock.”

You slipped your finger into his mouth for him to lick it. He looked like a wreck. His curls falling to the side of his face and his sweat was sliding down them.

Your finger twirled over your clit, your mouth parted in pleasure.

“He fucks you like that?”

“No, daddy. Not even close.”

“Good. Come on, baby, come for me.”

And you did as he asked. Like you always did. Responding to his every whim as he responded to yours. Your pussy squeezing his cock even tighter, pulsing on him.

“Oooooh…baby girl…fuck yeah, just like that…Damn I’m gonna come, baby…Gonna fill this pussy. My pussy…Oh god….” He didn’t stop talking even when his cum covered your walls, and you grabbed his cheeks to kiss him.

Your tongue slipped into his mouth, and you wondered when you would finally dare to break up with his son.

***************

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

@pascalsanctuary @littlemisspascal @survivingandenduring

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tenowls · 2 years

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american football

#17776 #20020 #17776 nine #17776 ten #17776 juice #nick navarro #manny baez #fanart #degree not finished yet but had time for some quick doodles !#thank u to 17776/20020 for getting me thru these last few assignments i was reading them during my stress relief breaks HAHAH #absolutely wild combination of sci fi elements + fictional sports + Existential Themes. gave me many emotions. very much recommend #soon i will have even more time to make my way thru the reading list i've been collecting since the start of this year aw yeaaa

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pedroshotwifey · 4 months

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Christmas Countdown Day 17 - Mulled Wine

Treat

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Word count: 1.7k (on the dot)

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, smut, fluff, daddy kink, piv sex, DIRTY dirty talk, soft dom joel, but also degrading nicknames (in a loving way), idk y'all its 2:00 am rn, frottage, stuff i'm forgetting

Summary: Joel thanks you for your consideration

A/N: I'm so tired, but I think this turned out pretty good. Lots of dirty talk. Idk. I'm putting this in my queue and passing tf out. Idk what happened bc this was supposed to be sweet and then it turned so dirty.

****

You watch Joel from the window as you finish stirring your ingredients one final time. It had been a bit of a struggle to get everything you needed to create a mulled wine, but you had done it.

Joel had mentioned to you in passing how he used to drink it around Christmas time before the outbreak. He’d invite Tommy over and the brothers would sit at the kitchen table with Sarah.

Joel would sip on his wine while Tommy indulged on his usual beer, absolutely refusing to touch Joel’s “sissy drink”. Sarah had asked once if she could have a mug of it, and so she ended up with a warm apple cider.

The story had made you laugh, you could almost see Tommy teasing Joel while Sarah whined for her own “sissy drink”.

They would sit around with their respective drinks after decorating the tree and recall fond memories. It was one of Joel’s favorite traditions back then, and you could tell he had a hard time opening up about it.

He’s been doing so much better with it lately–opening up to you. He used to not let a thing slip, but since you’ve settled in Jackson with Ellie, he’s been able to relax a bit. You don’t try to rush it, but you’re happy that he’s finally able to do so.

You sigh contentedly as you divide the wine into two steaming mugs. Looking back out the window, you can see Joel coming back up from the shed where Ellie had insisted on living. He’s halfway back to the main house now.

You think it’s cute, but also good for her, that she wanted to be independent. Though you would hate to be any farther from her. You know Joel feels the same way with how much he talks about it and goes over there to fix small things for her.

Just now, he had been over there re-caulking the window frames. He’s been worried about how cold it might be getting in there lately with all the snow outside.

Just then, Joel opens the door, a blast of frosty air blowing in with him and making you shiver. He notices you immediately, a smile adorning his rosy features.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says as he starts to pull his gloves off. “What’re you doin?”

You step to him, starting to help him with his thick leather jacket. He sets his gloves down on the kitchen counter and allows you to pry the coat off.

“Just making a treat,” you say, trying to hide the excitement in your voice.

“Oh?” Joel questions with a slight chuckle at your vague answer. “What kinda treat?”

You bite your lip to suppress your smile as you hang his coat up on the rack by the door before backtracking to the stove. You pick up the two steaming mugs of wine and walk back to him.

Joel knows what it is as soon as you pass him his mug. He looks down at it, then at you with nothing but love and gratitude. Not only had you remembered him talking about how much he enjoyed it, but you had gone out of your way to do something nice for him.

You watch him, trying to gauge his reaction. It did cross your mind once or twice while making it that he might not appreciate it because of the memories. That it might bring back things he didn’t want to think about. It didn’t seem likely–maybe a few months ago it would have–but not now. It had still been nagging you nonetheless.

It definitely doesn’t look like that’s the case, though, with the way Joel takes both of the mugs and sets them down to engulf you in a hug. He holds you close to him and whispers a small “thank you, baby” into your hair.

You smile into his chest, your arms wrapped tightly around him.

“You’re welcome, Joel,” you say, pulling your head back. He dips down to kiss you slowly, and you bring one of your hands up to thread into his fluffy graying hair. Joel groans into your lips and keeps ahold of you as he leads you backwards into the living room, your lips staying together as much as possible.

Once he reaches the couch, he sits down, pulling you on top of him. You shift to get situated in his lap, the two of you separating to catch your breath. Keeping eye contact, you grind down on him, making him groan as you pass over his bulge.

“Careful, darlin’,” Joel warns. “Keep that up and I ain’t gonna go easy on you.”

You smile mischievously at him as you do it again, and this time as he groans, he puts his hands over your hips and helps you do it. You allow him to drag you across him, his dick hardening with each pass.

Your clit catches on the fabric of his jeans, making you moan sweetly as you place your forehead on his shoulder.

“Feels good,” you whine as the pressure increases.

“Bet it does,” Joel teases. “My whore’s so starved she can get her little pussy off rubbin’ on my fuckin’ jeans.”

You moan louder at his words as you gyrate your hips, feeling a warmth starting to take over in your belly.

“Yeah, you gonna come like this?” Joel asks.

You just nod, letting him feel your agreement. You’re so close, just a couple more seconds.

“Alright then, go ahead, baby. Come on daddy’s lap with that slutty little cunt.”

And you do. You moan loudly as your movements grow more frantic, your cum seeping out and slicking up your clit to make the glide more pleasurable. The feeling of your pussy throbbing around nothing is almost a tease when you have Joel’s cock within reach.

He seems to know what you’re thinking, because as soon as you stop moving, he reaches for your pants. He unzips them and pats your thigh to make you get up before pulling them and your ruined panties down your thighs and having your step out of them.

You quickly get back onto his lap, covering his lips with yours in a sloppy kiss as he begins to work at his own pants. You can feel the moment he pulls his cock out, and you look down to admire it. You’ve always thought he has such a beautiful cock. Seems fitting for him.

His tip is already an angry red, leaking pre-cum which lubricates his thick shaft as he pumps himself a couple times.

“C’mon, baby, get up here on daddy’s cock. Don’t make me wait.”

You quickly obey, sitting up on your knees to notch him at your entrance. You sink down on him, moaning as he grunts. Your hands fly to his shoulders as he bottoms out, allowing you to adjust for a second.

It is only a second though, before he starts to thrust up into you. You moan at the first punch of his cock against your cervix. He places his hands back on your hips and assists you on bouncing on him.

“Tha’s it, baby,” Joel praises. “Never get tired of this messy fucking pussy. She’s always so hungry for me.”

You whine in agreement as you lift yourself up and down, a wet squelch coming from between your legs each time you fill yourself. Joel gazes into your eyes as you struggle to keep yours open. His teeth grit each time he hits a spot that makes you squeeze around him.

“Feel so good, daddy,” you tell him as you admire the thin sheen of sweat beginning to cover his golden skin. “I-you-I–”

“I know, honey,” Joel cuts you off. “Cockdrunk already.”

His condescending tone never fails to get you going. You fucking love it when he treats you like this, because you know that it’s not real. Just for now, you get to be his slut, his little fuck toy. Joel would never dream of speaking to you like this any other way.

You just nod at him, feeling your second orgasm approach. Joel begins to thrust quicker into you, making you whine with each punch.

“Yeah, I can feel it, baby. Let go for me.”

It only takes a few more thrusts before you’re coming around him, flooding his cock with your cum. The extra lubrication makes it even easier for him to slide in and out of you, and he takes full advantage of that, fucking your thorugh your orgasm at full speed.

“So damn tight n wet,” Joel grits out. “Poor pussy just can’t control ‘erself.”

“Mnm, she needs you, daddy,” you confirm, your eyes closed now as you rest on his shoulder again. Your legs are starting to ache, but you continue your movements as much as you can so Joel isn’t doing all the work, though you’re sure he wouldn’t mind too much.

His pace begins to falter and get more frantic as he gets closer to his own end.

“G-Gonna come on this little cunt,” he tells you through tight teeth. “Mark you all up n watch it drip off’a you.”

“Please, Joel, want your cum so bad.”

You can feel the way he pulses as he gets closer, watch the way he bites his plush bottom lip to contain himself.

He suddenly pulls you up hard, his cock falling out of you just in time to coat your pussy lips with his warm cum. He groans as he runs his tip just barely onto you, letting the sligh friction lengthen his high.

When he comes down, he places you gently back on his lap, his spent cock nestled between the two of you. You both breath heavily in a comfortable silence, and you almost fall asleep until you remember the wine.

“Wait, Joel–”

“It’s good room-temp too,” he says, his eyes cracked open just slightly. You scowl playfully at him, slapping his chest lightly.

“Or we could warm it back up. Jus’ sit here a minute, darlin. I’m too damn old for this shit.”

You giggle at him but comply, resting your head back on his chest. The wine will just have to wait.

****

Thank you for reading! lemme know If you wanna join the countdown taglist :)

FOTJC: @arcanefox207 @redhotkitchen @magpiepills @exquisiteserotonin @sparklefarts38 @pink-whiskey-woman @youandmeand5bucks @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime @secretelephanttattoo @morallyinept @beskarandblasters @tightjeansjavi @theywhowriteandknowthings @nerdieforpedro @maggiemayhemnj @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @ghostofaboy @joels-shitty-puns @elvinaa

WCC: @amyispxnk @melaninmommy @brittmb115 @mandoalorian @yorksgirl

Link to prompt list

#friends of the juice collective #pedro pascal #fan fiction #ao3 #smut #pedro pascal smut #fluff #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction

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