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#look at me daddy i'm a farmer
andy-clutterbuck · 1 year
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4x16 | A
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javiscigarette · 8 months
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Peaches n' Cream
Joel Miller x f!reader (pre/no outbreak)
Summary: You like peaches and Joel like watching you eat them.
Warnings: no use of y/n, smut, established relationship, (semi) public / outdoor sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), ass play, spitting, choking sliiightt daddy kink, one mention of Joel being pick up reader (but tbh he's strong af he can pick anyone up), absolutely no plot here Joel is just depraved and in love <3
w/c: 6k of pwp : )
a/n: I'm back!! And LISTEN! I knowwww I said Javi was next but the grip this man has on me is unreal and the peaches at the farmers market got me thinking about things!! Pls let me know if you liked this and my asks are always open to chat!!
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The little stand was set up on the side of the road, just one old farmer and his tall piles of crates filled to the brim with peaches.
Images of you in the grocery store a couple weeks ago flash in Joel’s head, standing in front of the display brimming with peaches with your arms crossed over your chest and your bottom lip jutting out in a slight pout. 
“They’re not the good ones” 
“They look fresh” Joel states as he takes turns squeezing each peach to test the firmness. “What’s wrong with ‘em?”
“It’s still May” you replied
Joel just looked at you, eyebrows pinched together and completely lost on the point you were trying to make. 
“They won't be as sweet. They're the best at the end of June” you answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 
“Sorry, not caught up on my peach facts I guess” 
You just roll your eyes and walk away, leaving Joel amused at how intensely you felt about the little fruits. 
But now it’s the last week of June. And as soon as he sees the stand there’s a rush of excitement thinking about the big smile you’d have for him when he walked through the door with a bag of fresh peaches. 
He pulls onto the shoulder of the road and parks his truck behind the line of the four other cars stopping for the same reason. The Texas sun is beating down on him, sweat prickling on the back of his neck in mere seconds as he waits patiently for the people in front of him to have their pick.
And when it’s his turn, he takes his time because of course it has to be perfect for you. He wasn’t looking for another peach lecture. 
“How d’ya pick out the ripest ones?” he asks the farmer. 
He listens carefully as the other man tells him how to spot the best ones, taking mental notes on everything from the ideal  firmness to the hue of the skin, even down to the smell. And he took the advice on getting a few that were ready to eat today and a few less ripe ones that you could eat a few days from now. After a few more minutes, he’s walking back to the truck carrying a paper bag filled to the top with peaches. 
When he gets home, he grabs a beer from the fridge then rinses the biggest peach from the bag under the kitchen tap. He has a direct line of sight through the window above the sink to where you’re laying out on the pool chair, the sight of you in your little skimpy bikini sent a little tingle down his spine. 
“Hey, baby” Joel calls out, shielding his eyes from the hot Texas sun. You turn and face him with a grin as he walks over to you. 
“Got something for you” Joel announces with a smile, holding out the peach to you. 
Your face lights up exactly how he imagined it would. But it’s a thousand times better in person. The way you smile so big that the corners of your eyes crinkle and the way your eyes  twinkle with amazement makes his heart swell in his chest. 
You scramble to sit up and take the fruit out of his hand. He strokes your hair then leans down to press a kiss to your forehead before sitting on the lounge chair next to yours. 
“Where’d you get these?” you ask, lifting up your sunglasses to get a proper look. “They look perfect” 
Joel laughs, trying not to puff out his chest in confidence. 
“That peach stand up the road is finally open” he answers. “Got a whole bag for you inside” 
Joel chuckles again at your  small squeal of excitement as you  shoot up from your seat and bounce over towards him. You stand between his spread knees and lean down to kiss him. 
His heart feels warm and gooey in his chest as he kisses you, his hands immediately finding the back of your thighs, your skin so warm from sitting out in the sun all day. 
He swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, his head spinning a bit when he tastes your strawberry chapstick mixed with a hint of chlorine from the pool. His grip on your thighs tightens slightly and he sighs with delight when you part your lips and let him in, his heart melting when he feels you smile against his lips. 
He stays in the moment for a few more seconds before tapping your thigh and pulling back. 
“Try it. Wanna see if you like ‘em” he says before reaching for his beer sitting on the small side table. 
Joel’s heart skips a beat when you bite your lip and smile as you sit back down on your chair, facing him and crossing your legs underneath you. 
You sink your teeth into the reddish skin of the perfectly ripe peach. The sweet nectar immediately floods your mouth, so juicy that it quickly starts running past your lips to drip down your chin and over your fingers. You moan softly in delight, your eyelids fluttering shut at the taste. 
“It’s perfect” you say around a mouthful of peach. 
You take your time, savoring each bite. But to Joel it feels like you're on a mission to kill him on the spot. 
He has a death grip on his beer bottle as he watches you, groaning quietly when a few drops fall onto your bare legs. You, none the wiser, giggle innocently at the mess you’re making before taking another bite. More juice spills over your knuckles and trickles down your fingers to your wrist and forearm, the small rivulets twinkling on your skin in the sunlight. 
 Joel is about to pass out. 
He takes a few gulps of his beer, downing almost half the bottle in one go before setting it down on the small table between the two chairs. 
“C’mere, peaches” Joel says, patting his thigh. 
You happily oblige and get up to sit in his lap, your thighs on either side of his.
“You wanna bite?” you ask with a sweet smile. 
“Don’t need a bite, baby” Joel responds, reaching to grab your forearm. “Got my own right here.” 
He brings his lips to your wrist, pressing gentle kisses to your sticky skin and licking up the sweet juice. You giggle when the hairs of his mustache and scruffy beard tickle your skin, the sensation sending a a hot wave of arousal washing over you, head to toe. 
Your heart flutters in your chest as he kisses up your wrist to the back of your hand, placing a wet kiss to each of your knuckles before pulling back and opening his eyes to look at you again. 
A lopsided, dopey grin spreads across his face at the sight in front of him. You’re looking back at him through hooded eyes, the apples of your cheeks dusted pink as a dazed smile tugs at the corner of your red, wet lips. 
“Finish” Joel commands simply with a crooked smile. 
And you do. You go back to finishing the fruit while Joel’s gaze falls to your legs. He runs a thumb over the sticky drops of juice on your thigh, using his thumb to rub it into your warm skin with slow circles until the liquid dries up. He then switches to sliding his calloused palms up and down your thighs, his fingertips brushing the edges of your swim bottoms with every pass. 
Sitting in the sun all day already made your brain hazy and Joel’s dilated eyes boring into you aren’t exactly helping. Neither is his bulge twitching against your clothed core with every slurping and sucking sound you make as you let the juice run freely over your knuckles and down your chin, no longer caring about the mess. 
When you finish, Joel promptly plucks the pit out of your hand and sets it on the side table. He then turns back towards you and brings his thumb up to wipe up the drop of juice at the corner of your mouth. 
“Was it good, sweetheart?” he asks, sliding his thumb between your lips.
 Your eyelashes flutter as you immediately roll your tongue over his thumb, sucking the juice off before nodding slowly. You let him press down your tongue, his eyes wide and glued to your lips before you pull off his finger with a wet pop. 
“Delicious” you say with a sated smile. You lean forward, until your lips are inches away from his. “You wanna taste, daddy?” 
You giggle when he groans quietly underneath you.
“S’that even a question? ‘Course I do, peaches.” 
The next second, his hand is curling around the back of your neck as he pulls you down for a deep kiss. He doesn’t just get a taste. He devours you like a five-course meal, his tongue immediately licking into your mouth to chase the intoxicating taste of the fresh peach, chlorine, sun, sweat and you. This time, he bites at your lower lip and gently tugs, pulling a small whine from you. You tangle your fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck and he  groans softly when you move your hips against his, dragging your aching core over the bulge in his jeans. 
“Gotta have you, baby” Joel mumbles against your lips, too desperate to pull away for even one second. “Need you right fuckin’ now.” 
“Out here?” you ask breathlessly, not bothering to pull away either. 
Joel doesn’t say anything. Instead, with his lips still on yours, he reaches between your bodies and tugs down on a cup of your bikini top until your breast falls out, letting you know that yes, he needs you right now, out here. 
“Daddy…” you say tentatively, finally pulling away from the kiss. He doesn't even bother looking up, completely ignoring  you as he tugs down the other cup. 
“Joel!” you gasp, the sound quickly followed by a giggle as you try to squirm out of his grasp, but the strong he has wrapped around your waist keeps you firmly in place. 
He wasn’t exaggerating. Not in the slightest.
“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby” Joel mumbles, his lips vibrating lightly against your skin. You move in his lap again, but this time you’re not trying to get away. He’s rock hard now, and you grind down harshly, already growing desperate  from his primal need for you. 
He moves to swirl his tongue over your nipple then brings up his hand to pinch the other one, groaning softly as you grind down on him with your fingers tightening in your grasp in the sweaty curls at the nape of his neck and holding his head against you. 
“Joel” you start, your voice already trembling. You’re just putty in this man’s hands. “W-what about the neighbors?” 
Joel was not a stupid man. Sure, he doesn’t - used to not - know much about the damn peaches, but he had at least been blessed with enough forethought to build a fence tall enough to make sure that the nosy neighbors wouldn’t be able to see you out here. 
He doesn’t look up, just mumbles against your skin “no one can see in, angel. Promise.” 
“I know but what about the sound?” you ask, still grinding your hips softly against his. 
Joel chuckles, warm air fanning over your chest before looking up at you. His fingers leave your breast and trail down the side of your rib cage, his feather light touch making you shiver before he unceremoniously slips his hand beneath the elastic of your swimsuit, cupping your pussy in his hand. The heel of his palm presses against your clit as his fingers press against your already dripping seam. 
“Doesn’t seem to be botherin’ you too much” he says softly, his lips curving in a grin.
You whine and tug on his hair, almost forgetting why you even stopped him in the first place. His eyes fall back down to where he’s cupping you, mesmerized by the way your hips move as you grind against his hand, your juices already leaking onto his palm. 
“Needy little thing, aint ya” 
You stop moving and glare at him.
“Says the man that nearly creamed his pants watching me eat a piece of fruit”
Joel just shrugs shamelessly with a carefree smile. 
“Do you wanna stop?” Joel asks, circling your aching hole with the pads of his two fingers before sliding them in slowly. He’s quick enough to swallow his own pathetic whimper when he feels you clench wildly around his fingers. “‘Cause I’ll stop right now and we ca-” 
“No.” you reply firmly, reflexively tugging on his hair. 
“That’s my girl” Joel smirks and curls his fingers to press right up against the spot that has you instantly moaning, the one that he never struggles to find.  “So good for me, huh?” 
You nod weakly, biting your lip to try and  stop some of the noise you’re making. 
He pumps his fingers in and out of you the best he can with the limited range of motion, obsessed with the soft sound tumbling past your lips. He dives back down to latch onto your nipple again, sucking and rolling his tongue over the hardened peak.
You grind down hard against his hand and your skin grows hotter under the summer sun, every inch of hot and buzzing. You move your hands from his hair, one curling around the back of his neck, the other grabbing onto his shoulder. His neck is damp with sweat under your palm and his black t-shirt feels like it’s about to catch on fire. 
“Off” you whine pathetically and pull at his shirt, now desperate to feel every inch of his skin. 
He ignores you at first, too busy switching to your other nipple and teasing it between his teeth, too absorbed in the feeling of your slick running down his fingers and into his palm like warm honey. But yanking on his hair brings his attention back to you. 
“So impatient” Joel mumbles, sliding his fingers out of you and his hand out of your swimsuit before snapping the elastic against your hip. You watch with wide eyes as he sticks two wet fingers in his mouth letting out a soft groan while his eyelids futter slightly at the taste. 
He then pulls the fingers out of his and looks up at you. But you're looking somewhere else. You’re eyes are still glued to his fingers, now shiny with a mixture of your slick and his saliva. He follows your gaze and wiggles his fingers slightly. 
“Does my baby want a taste?” Joel asks with a smirk. 
You nod your fervently nod your head and whine a pathetic “please” 
“Can’t so no when you ask so nicely, sweetheart” 
He brings his wet fingers up your lips and you don’t miss a beat, immediately wrapping your lips around his two digits and sucking hard. The two of you sigh in unison, Joel pushing down on your tongue as you roll your tongue around, cleaning up the mess as best you can. 
His jaw is slack and  hanging open as he watches you in amazement. He slides his fingers back a little further, grunting when you start gagging slightly. 
“Such a pretty sound” Joel whispers. He shoves his fingers further back, eyebrows pinched together in concentration. You gag again, harder this time, drool now leaking past your lips and his fingers. His cock pulses in his jeans so hard that it nearly hurts. 
“Baby” he starts, pressing down particularly hard on your tongue, moaning quietly as your mouth floods with more saliva. He then hooks his fingers over your bottom teeth and tugs down, forcing your mouth open. He stares at your wet lips with eyes hooded before talking again. “Daddy needs you, sweetheart”
You moan softly and slide off his fingers. 
“How d’ya want me?” you ask innocently
“Take these off,” Joel says, thumbing at the waistband of your swimsuit. “Then lie down for me babydoll” 
You whimper softly, and move off his lap to stand up, fully untying your bikini top and shimmying out of your bottoms. Your eyes are glued to Joel the whole time though, watching hungirly as he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing the vast expanse of his back. He unbuckles his belts and unzips his jeans, pulling them down his thighs just enough to get his cock out. 
You do as you’re told, propping yourself up against the back of the chair with your legs stretched out in front of you. Joel wastes no time getting settled on his stomach between your legs, spreading your thighs apart to reveal your glistening cunt to the summer sun.
“God, baby” Joel sighs at the sight, his warm breath fanning over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. He brings a hand up and uses two fingers to spread your lips to see your hole clenching around thin air.  “So fuckin’ wet for me.”
You whimper softly and gently roll your hips up, chasing after his touch. Joel looks up at you and smirks as he prods at your entrance with his finger tips. JJoel shushes you and presses a kiss to the space just below your navel, then kisses a trail over to your hip and down the top of your thigh. He kisses the tacky  spot on your thigh, kitten-licking at the sugary spot of dried juice. Then he slides a hand under your thigh, lifting your leg up and over your shoulder before wrapping his arm over the top, effectively locking your thigh in place. 
Your hands find their natural resting spot in his hair, fingers tangling in the brown curls that are burning hot from the sun. He’s making progress towards where you need him most, placing hot, wet kisses on your inner thigh, pausing frequently to nibble and suck at the delicate skin. You can already see the smug look on his face he’ll have when he finds the little marks and bruises in the morning. 
With no warning, his mouth is on you, his tongue delving into your slick folds, hungrily lapping at your aching cunt.  Joel absolutely devours you, his face buried between your legs, so eager to taste you, to drink you down and make you scream. 
You reflexively try to buck your hips, but the arm he has wrapped around your thigh keeps you down, his fingertips digging into your skin as he holds you right where he wants you. His cock twitches where it’s pressed against the chair when he feels your thighs tremble against his face and then again when you pull on his hair, sending tingles from his scalp down to his toes. 
His tongue teases your leaking hole, your walls clenching desperately as he dips his tongue in and out before moving to your clit. He sucks the swollen nub between his lips, swirling his tongue around it, waiting until you let out a whine or moan before moving back to your hole to repeat the process. It’s like he’s starving and you’re the first thing he’s tasted in days. 
Lewd, wet noises of Joel slurping you down like you’re his last drink ever create a mirror image of the sounds you made while eating the peach only five minutes ago. The sounds mix with your moans and high-pitched whines,  Any and all reservations you had about the neighbors hearing you completely gone.  
 Just from the way he’s eating you out, greedily taking everything you give him, tells you how much he needed you. It’s so passionate and raw that it makes your head spin. You can hear your blood roaring in your ears as your skin feels raw and electrified like an exposed wire as a heat start pool in your lower abdomen. And you’re guessing by how your slick is dripping down your thighs already that he can tell how much you need him. 
It doesn’t take long until you’re teetering on the edge of release, your chest heaving with every gulp of air. Joel notices how your moans are getting louder and more frequent, so he slides the hand that’s not wrapped around your thigh down to your entrance and slowly pushes two fingers inside of you. 
He smiles against you when you reward him with a long loud moan with your walls clenching tightly around his fingers. He keeps a steady rhythm, slowly pushing his fingers in and out of you, a direct contrast to the ravenous pace of his tongue. The sounds he’s pulling out of you go straight to his cock, but he barely registers the building pressure, too focused on taking care of you to think about himself for even one second. 
You cry out when he hooks his fingers inside of you, curling them so they perfectly nudge against your g-spot every single time he pushes in. Your back arches away from the chair and you start rolling your hips against his face, holding his head in place as you do so. 
“Give it to me, angel” Joel murmurs into you, the vibrations and his warm breath adding to the pleasure that’s quickly building up. “Wanna feel you cum ‘round my fingers. Wanna taste it, baby” 
Your heart is pounding in your chest and you’re so hot, almost every square inch of your skin damp with sweat and you can’t tell if it’s more from the heat or what this man is doing to you, probably just an intoxicating mixture of both. You look down at him to find that he’s already staring up at you, watching you intently with hooded eyes as you start to fall apart. 
Your gaze drifts to his back, and you can’t help but gawk at the muscles flexing smoothly under his tan skin that’s gleaming with sweat. The sight alone causes the pressure to build even more and Joel groans when your legs start trembling on either side of his head. He doubles down on his effort, his tongue flicking wildly at your clit as he presses his fingertips harshly against your spot that has you seeing stars. He lays the palm of his free hand on the space just below your navel and presses down, adding sudden, intense external pressure that makes you cry out loud. 
“Oh fuck daddy I - shit  I’m gon-”
You can’t even finish the sentence before you’re flying off the edge, hips lifting off the chair as you shove his face even further against your core. Sounds of pleasure flow freely from your lips as you grind against his face, the stubble of his beard rubbing your sweaty inner thighs raw. Joel watches you the whole time as your slick gushes out of your hole and onto his chin and around his fingers. 
He works you through it, grunting and moaning while keeping his mouth glued to you, following you as you writhe underneath him. He doesn’t let up until you’re whimpering and squirming away from the overstimulation. 
“Goddam, baby” Joel rasps, his voice thick with his smooth southern drawl. He presses a gentle kiss to your hypersensitive clit and whispers “sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. Could give that farmer and his peaches a run for their money” 
You giggle breathlessly. Your limbs are relaxed and heavy as you melt against the chair while Joel moves so that he’s kneeling between your legs. He  takes advantage of how soft and pliant you are, easily manhandling you to flip over and put your ass up in the air with the side of your  face pressed against the chair cushion. 
He palms at your ass and grips handfuls of both cheeks before spreading you open so you’re on full display for him. He groans quietly seeing your hole clench around thin air, a thin string of your slick dripping from your lips. 
“So beautiful, baby” Joel mumbles, dragging a single finger through the mess between your legs. You whine at the praise and wiggle your hips, your way of asking him to get on with it already. 
“S’okay, baby” Joel soothes, rubbing a palm over the curve of your ass. “Gonna give you what you want” 
Joel gathers the spit in his mouth before leaning over a bit and letting it drip down to where he has you spread open. He groans softly, watching the warm liquid land on your asshole and slide down to pool at your leaking entrance. You obviously don’t need any extra lubrication but Joel’s obsession with claiming you as his and getting you all messy like this is no secret. 
You both moan when he nestles his cock between your cheeks, sighing heavily as he rocks his hips and gently glides his cock through the wetness. 
“This what you want, sweetheart?” Joel teases, notching his tip at your entrance. “Or should I fuck this tight little hole? Haven’t played back here in awhile”
Your high-pitched whines turn  into desperate moans when he spits again and spreads it over the tight ring of muscle with the pad of his thumb. You make another pathetic noise and push your hips back again. 
“You’d take anything I gave you wouldn’t you, angel?” Joel coos, pressing his thumb past the tight ring of muscle. “Could take your sweet pussy or tight little ass whenever I want and you’d just be so grateful, huh baby?” 
“Yes daddy just– please I just need you inside me” 
Joel hums approvingly. 
“Yeah I know you would, baby” Joel sighs, watching your tight hole swallow the tip of his thumb with stars in his eyes. “Always so desperate for me to fill you up and stuff you full of my cock, isn’t that right?” 
You whine in frustration as Joel slides his cock through your folds again, rubbing the warm, swollen head of his cock against your clit. 
“Please, daddy. Please please I want it so bad fuck me pl-” 
You cut yourself off with a wanton moan when Joel fully sheathes himself inside your aching cunt in one swift, sudden movement. 
“Sound so pretty when you beg like that” Joel chokes out, his fingertips digging into the meat of your hips as he wills himself to stay still while you adjust to his size. 
It’s hard though, especially with your dripping walls spasming around his cock and your asshole squeezing his thumb. 
“Jesus honey” Joel groans as he pulls your hips back onto him just to get a little bit deeper. His cock pulses inside of you when you whine his name and clench wildly around him. “Feel so fuckin’ good squeezin’ me like that” 
“Move” you groan. “God daddy please move” 
You don’t have to tell him twice. 
Immediately he pulls out just until his tip catches on your entrance before slamming back inside. You cry out at the sudden, intense force, your hands scrambling and searching for purchase on the fabric of the chair. You try to crawl up on your forearms, but his strong hand between your shoulder blades forces you back down, your cheek smushed against the chair. 
Joel growls from behind you as he quickly works up to a devastating pace. His eyes flit back and forth from your face, screwed up in pleasure, to where he’s pounding into you, both of your holes raw and stretched out around his cock and his thumb. 
“Fuck you take it so well, baby” Joel grunts, his hand landing harshly on your ass. “Such a good girl, takin’ everything I give you” 
He leans over, his palm sliding from between your shoulders to the back of your neck. The position pushes him even further inside of you, his tip pressing against your cervix with every stroke. 
“Nghh fuck daddy, you’re so deep!” you cry, gasping wetly while his fingers splay over the front of your throat. 
“Fuck yeah I am” Joel growls, his thumb now pressing firmly against the side of your neck, his fingertips squeezing the other side. “This cock was made to fuck you, sweet girl” 
He gradually increases the pressure on your throat, his cock pulsating when you clench down on him as he slowly constricts the blood flow to your brain. There’s not a single worry in your head. The hand around your throat is a reminder of his dominance over you but also serves as a symbol of the trust between the two of you. It’s almost a silent way of saying “let go, I’ve got you” 
And you do let go.
You moan uncontrollably as he continues to pound into you, your head quickly growing light and fuzzy.  His fucking you with no reservations, making every inch of you skin tingle with pleasure. But you can’t resist the temptation to push your hips back, meeting his thrusts halfway. And judging from the sound of Joel’s moan, you know that was the right choice. 
“Oh god, that’s it, sweetheart. Lemme see you fuck yourself on my cock” 
You follow his orders, the muscles in your thighs and hips already burning from the sheer amount of effort you're exerting. Your mouth hangs open, drool leaking out onto the white fabric of the cushion as you whimper and whine while for him. He watches, completely focused on the way your body moves for him, panting heavily with his thumb still stuck in your ass. 
“Better be quiet, angel,” Joel warns through clenched teeth. “Unless you want them to hear.” 
He hisses when you clamp down around him and thrust your hips back, forcing his length deep inside of you. Joel chuckles breathlessly and leans down until his face is inches away from yours, his grip lightening up on your throat. “Oh you like that idea, don’t you?” 
You try to open your mouth and say something, but he starts squeezing your throat again, laughing darkly when your eyes roll into the back of your head. 
“Dirty fucking girl” Joel whispers roughly, snapping his hips harder against yours if even possible at this point. He wiggles his thumb in your ass for good measure. “Wants the whole neighborhood to hear how well her daddy fucks her, huh baby?” 
The sound of it all is obscene, your moans,  the rhythmic slap of his pelvis against your ass, and the squelching of your dripping cunt as he fucks you senseless. For a brief second, your mind wanders to all the women in the neighborhood, so indiscreet with the way that they ogle at Joel at all the neighborhood cook-outs and bonfires and you think to yourself: yeah, they can fucking listen. 
Joel places a wet kiss to the nape of your neck before straightening up again. His hand abruptly leaves your throat, leaving you gasping and whining at the loss. 
“God you’re such a fuckin’ slut for it” Joel rasps, his hand gripping your hip again. 
Your head feels thick and stuffy, thoughts floating around like syrup in your brain. The only thing you can think about is Joel’s cock driving in and out of you, dragging so deliciously against your g-spot while he keeps his thumb firmly in your tight asshole.
He uses two fingers from his free hand to prod at where he’s splitting you open, gathering some of your slick and dragging it up to your clit. He groans at the heavenly sounds that start falling from your lips as he rubs quick circles over the sensitive nub. 
You’re an absolute mess at this point, completely at his mercy as he pounds into you. Your hips jerk involuntarily against him as he continues to rub your clit ferociously, making you writhe underneath him. His touch only adds to your pleasure, pure bliss engulfing all of your senses. 
“Please daddy” you whine, your words slurring together. “Please I wanna cum” 
“I know, baby. Can feel you clenchin’ around me'' Joel coos. “S’okay sweetheart, I want it. Soak my fuckin’ cock with it” 
Your whole body tenses as you reach your release, your walls grip him so impossibly tight as he fucks you through it, his fingers on your clit not slowing for even a second
“That’s it, baby.” Joel praises as you shake underneath him, the sounds you're making, has his cock throbbing inside of you, his eyes rolling back at how tightly you squeeze his cock and his thumb. “Always so fuckin’ tight when you cum on me. So fuckin’ tight” 
He’s not far behind you, the way your body reacts to him driving him absolutely wild. His fingers move from your clit to grip your hip and he slams into you with a newfound strength, chasing after his own release. 
“Fuck, honey you’re gonna make me cum” he grunts, his eyes glued to your holes fluttering around him. 
“Yes, daddy please cum” you manage to whine desperately, eager to have him fuck you full of his cum until it’s dripping out of you. 
Your begging sends him over the edge and his pace falters then stops completely. The sounds of his loud moans as he spills inside of you sends a pleasant wave of warmth down your spine. It feels so divine, the way he throbs inside of you as he shoots rope after rope cum deep inside of you. 
He stays there for a few moments, buried deep inside you while he catches his breath. Once his breathing evens out, he gingerly removes his thumb from your ass, his cock twitching pathetically at the way your tight hole grips onto him as he pulls it out. He then slides his cock out and collapses on top of you, careful not to completely crush you. 
He’s burning hot, his sweaty skin sticking to your eyes as the sunshine beats down relentlessly on the two of you. But you don’t give single fuck. He rests his cheek between your shoulder blades, his scruff tickling the sensitive skin. 
“You’re so good, sweetheart.” Joel whispers, his breath fanning over the back of shoulder. 
You hum happily in response, too blissed out to say much else. You lay there for a few more minutes until the sun makes things unbearably hot. Joel then moves to stand up and shimmies out of the jeans that he never fully took off. 
You turn your head to look at him, using your hand to shield your eye from the sun. 
“You’re puttin’ a lot of faith in that fence” you chuckle, eyes shamelessly raking up and down his naked body. 
Joel laughs out loud and tosses his jeans on the chair. 
“Baby” he starts, reaching down to roll you over onto your back. “You know the only reason I agreed to building that fence and this goddamn pool in the first place is because I want to see you naked inside of it” 
You have no time to react before he’s scooping you up in his arms. 
“Joel Miller! Put me down!” you shout between giggles as he carries you over to the edge of the pool. 
“It’d be my honor” he says before dropping you into the water. 
The cool water is a shock to your fucked out system, but it’s such a relief from the heat. And if anyone else did that, you’d be fucking livid. Anyone else. But it’s Joel. And the way that he jumps in after you and then wraps his arms around you as he giggles in your ear makes you absolutely melt, just like it always does. 
Thank god for peach season. 
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Thank you for reading I love you guys sm :')))
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alonetimelover · 5 months
Note
Could I request a dadrry instagram blurb?? That other one was amazing!!! Doesn’t have to follow on from the last one❤️
pairing: Harry Styles x famous!reader
summary: A little instagram blurb with dadrry, a new pleasing drop, and babies' drawings.
masterlist taglist
famous!reader 1 2
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pleasing
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liked by harrystyles, yourinstagram, annetwist, harryupdates and 1 028 302 others
pleasing Fancy Friends are here and presented to you by our littlest ambassadors - Andy and Franny.
Behold and wait for the posts about all 8(!) new colours straight from our ambassadors' painting room, made specially for this occasion.
Find your pleasing.
view all 89 302 comments
harrystyles All smiles ♥️
yourinstagram My smiley baby!!!! 🥹
harryupdates whhhhaaaaaatt??? ambassadors???
ynupdates some cute babies
hArrysbtch oh my gooood
harrysmoustache i waited months and months for a drop that would cave me... I'm so buying all of the colours
user49 babies for ads?
user84 im conflicted now
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yourinstagram
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liked by harrystyles and 7 202 403 others
yourinstagram rocking that farmer fit
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harrystyles My two favourite girls
⤷ yourinstagram which ones exactly?
⤷ harrystyles No answer will be good
harryupdates weren't they just born?
⤷ yourinstagram that's how it feels! and now she walks
hArrysbtch i hate kids but i love all the clones from yn and harry
⤷ yourinstagram you make us look like a factory or smth
⤷ harrystyles or mad scientists
⤷ hArrysbtch im gonna take a social media break, you're right
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harryupdates
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liked by hArrysbtch, ynupdates and 10 303 others
harryupdates HARRY and his older daughter at the Pleasing facility today in London!
view all 920 comments
hArrysbtch CEO!harry having a premiere in real life???
⤷ harrysmoustache weren't you supposed to take a social media break?
⤷ hArrysbtch shhhh
ynupdates ceo and ambassador are having a meeting
stylesbabie yeah. I'll be the one to start talking about his back, won't I?
⤷ harrysfan92 i mean, its right there
ynsmybestie taking care of business
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pleasing
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liked by harrystyles, yourinstagram and 2 002 202 others
pleasing Andy and Franny present you first three drawings that inspired Fancy Friends collection. Pieces are called respectfully: 'Mummy and Daddy', 'Daddy('s) house' and 'You and me'.
'Just, just tell them that they, they all can paint nails. It's funzy!' said Franny while incorporating her work.
Find Your Pleasing.
view all 83 302 comments
harrystyles yourinstagram I love your hand
⤷ yourinstagram it's called perspective
yourinstagram My two artists!!!
annetwist ❤️
hArrysbtch MoMA is waiting for them
harryupdates This. Is. Art.
ynupdates well hello you
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harrystyles
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liked by yourinstagram and 10 302 202 others
harrystyles 'Daddy I did you on paper.'
view all 103 302 comments
yourinstagram 1:1 perfect drawing with full details
⤷ harrystyles Perfect.
hArrysbtch that's the same picture!
ynsmybestie these babies are spending days and night at that painting room
⤷ yourinstagram I wish. It was a 5 minute drawing cause 'i love daddy and kiwi'
⤷ ynsmybestie ohhhhhhh
ynsmymama melting
harrysfan82 this pleasing promotion is going HARD
⤷ harrysmoustache everything is sold out
⤷ hArrysbtch those babies are making more money than i do, man. that's unfair...
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yourinstagram
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liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 4 302 202 others
yourinstagram here's to the best father i know
(yes, i was terrified for the joints to stay in place. yes, babies found this as the best play in the world and repeated ten times. yes, his back looks gooood.)
view all 89 302 comments
harrystyles That's a lot coming from the greatest mother in the World.
⤷ yourinstagram your mum is right there
⤷ harrystyles Obviously, you're sharing the No. 1
⤷ yourinstagram ObViOuSLy
hArrysbtch 'yes, his back looks gooood' girl, you don't need to shout it to our faces
⤷ yourinstagram HIS BACK LOOKS GOOD
⤷ ynsmybestie i love her
harrysmoustache still not used to the fact that he is a dad
harrysfan82 I've never asked: do your kids know you're the Disney Princess?
⤷ yourinstagram they watched Tangled and didn't notice even after my live performance
628 notes · View notes
coeurify · 1 year
Note
i think i already requested this but i’m not 100% sure so i’m doing it again 🫶😭 ellie getting hired as a farm hand and sneaking around with the farmers daughter
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𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+. rushed writing, smut, oral!e recieving, dirty talk
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: I JUST CAME EVERYWHERE!!! sorry this req took so long. i went a bit overboard. plz tell me if u want more of this trope, 3.2k words.
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The farm was never quiet. Not the always loud stables and garden, not the chicken coop that always raised choruses of sounds. Never was the creaking door of your front porch door silent, nor was the gravel road that led across the expansive farm. Your father waking early in the morning, before the sun had even risen, boots stomping down old stairs— that was never quiet either. So often, you found your arms pressed to the ledge of your window, peeking through the white curtains to watch as the sun rose and your father trudged around to tend to everything by himself.
One day, when your cheek was pressed against your arm, knees tucked under you as your bed acted as a cushion to watch out the window with sleepy eyes, someone else showed up. Their hair was short and messily cut, shining a deep sort of auburn in the early flashes of the sun. They wore flannel and jeans that you had to squint your eyes to see were definitely too big for whoever wore them. Your father had mentioned hiring a farm hand for some help, but you assumed to be met with an older man like himself. Not whoever this was. They tilted their head up, meeting your searching eyes through the window above the farmhouse. It was a girl, definitely one your age, early twenties or so. Before she could look too long as you continued being nosy, you ducked down under the window and let out a breath of embarrassment.
A few days later, you learned her name. Carrying metal buckets full of feed for the chicken coop, you were met with this new face again, holding the same bucket. “Oh,” she had said, “are you going to feed the chickens? I'm sorry, don’t mean to get in the way..” she had rocked on her heels nervously, but you just smiled. “Oh! my daddy always has me feed the chickens; he must’ve just forgotten to tell ya’.. you’re the new farm hand, right?” The girl had nodded, very obviously following the braids in your hair as you tilted your head a bit. “Yea— uh, I’m Ellie..” she eventually introduced, holding out a hand for you. It gave a clear visual of the flannel pushed to her elbows, revealing a beautiful tattoo on her lower arm. You shook her hand, grinning as bright as the damn sky as you introduced yourself. “We could just go feed them together? Then I’ll get outta your hair,” you offered. That was the first day you and Ellie spoke, over the loud clucks of the chickens, introducing them each by names you had given them, asking simple questions about herself. That was when you decided you had to have her.
Your father didn’t love how the next few weeks were spent with you stealing glances at Ellie as she carried hay barrels or led horses to a different side of the farm. He mumbled for you to ‘let the girl do her job’ whenever you brought the two of them lemonades or snacks as an excuse to spark up a conversation under the summer heat. You liked to watch the way Ellie always focused on you, sweat building on her forehead that she always wiped away to speak with you. You enjoyed how she stumbled over her words whenever you complimented her work or mentioned how your father didn’t like how interested you were in distracting her.
“My daddy says I'm a bad influence on you, Ellie; you think that's true?” You had asked one day while leaning against the barn door, watching as she shuffled animals back into their pens. “He thinks I distract you too much,” you add, fingers digging into the pockets of your overalls. Ellie swallowed harshly, searching for her words carefully, “I think I’d be lying if I said you didn’t distract me just a bit,” the girl admitted, pushing a grin to your face. “Only a bit?” You pouted, nearly giggling out loud at how Ellie had blinked so hard and so many times, unable to conjure up words for your pointed comment. That was the first time you had dipped your toes into the pool of flirting with Ellie, and you never went back.
After a few awkward breakfasts of your father digging into you for your infatuation with his new farm hand, begging you just to let the girl work, you got more careful about your trips to Ellie. You would wait until your father was off in one of the stables before you would sneak to the garden Ellie was kneeling in, hands covered in dirt as she tended to the plants. “You look good like that,” you would mumble. Ellie always fumbled with her tools, looking up at you with eyes that always begged you not to keep pushing this. You always did. Your feet always found a place in the area of the farm she was in, digging into the dirt as you asked about her day and slid in compliments.
Ellie tried her best to be a good worker; she really did. She did her best to ignore those pretty eyes of yours, did her damnedest to look away when you bit your lip and watched her work. But she was only human. Every human had a breaking point, a trip-wire that only took one wrong step to set off and blow everything up. That breaking point had been your pretty sundress on a Wednesday afternoon as you lounged on your front porch, a book tucked in front of your face. Ellie had been standing there, waiting for your father to return from his quick ride to get more supplies for a broken fence. It was too hot that day to even debate standing out in the blistering sun, though the shade of the porch gave little comfort when you raised one of your legs and exposed some of your thighs.
“I love that flannel El,” you said as your nose poked above the paper pages, fingers dipping in between the chapters as you paid little mind to the words. “Come sit with me,” you patted the small sun chair next to you, and Ellie couldn’t help but follow your motion. A few strands of her hair were sticking up as she took a seat next to you, and you didn’t fight the urge to reach forward and press them down. “You gotta stop doing this,” Ellie said suddenly, turning your hand back to your lap. You knew exactly what she meant, but you still blinked as if you were confused. “Doin’ what?” You let your ponytail rest against the back of your chair as you leaned back, heart jumping to your throat as Ellie leaned over from her own space. Those green eyes you had wanted to see up close finally focused on your lips. “Tempting me, I can't..” Ellie swallowed, “Can’t do this.”
You had leaned up a bit, “You think I'm tempting El?” your voice came out slow and sweet, like molasses on her lips. Ellie and you both knew that trip-wire had been stepped directly on. The explosion had been Ellie’s lips crashing into your own, harsh enough that you were left with puffy lips for the rest of the day. She was just as sweet as you imagined, and you were hooked from the first bite against her lip. The two of you only pulled away when you heard the wheels of your father’s car. You knew if he caught you two, all the fun would end.
From there, Ellie was just as bad as you. Her hands found your waist whenever you passed by her in the barn, sneaking behind the buildings to meet you for a few handsy kisses and calloused hands pressing up shirts. Ellie became louder, a more mouthy side escaping her. Usually, it consisted of tumbling swears when you wore something she liked or loud jokes whenever you two were alone. You liked this side of her, always skipping away from your small meetings just as giddy as the first time, cheeks red from laughing.
Ellie began staying a little past sunset, knowing your kind father would invite her for dinner each time. You both knew it was just so she could watch as you and your father set the table, enjoying how you floated around the room only to always land in the seat next to hers. You both enjoyed how her palm always found your thigh under the table, usually rendering you the babbling one for once. Ellie stuck around till the very last minute, and the excellent daughter you were, you always offered to walk her out. The thrill of how easy it would be to get caught only made the goodnight kisses even more, mind-numbing, pressing through the window of her car to find her lips. “G’night, Ellie,” you always whispered through flushed cheeks. “Goodnight, angel,” Ellie always replied.
You often found yourself with a hand over your mouth, pressed against a door or any other surface you found acceptable and quiet. Ellie was talented with her fingers and mouth, and you had fallen victim to being a little too loud many times. It gained this recurring theme of her hand pressing against your lips and cheeks. Ellie hushed you repeatedly, demanding you two couldn’t be caught. The farm was only ever quiet when you two snuck around, mouth against your ear, sweat sticking to both of your bodies as she dragged too many orgasms to count from you.
One particularly sweltering day, your father had packed his trunk and left for the summer farmers market. It left the land to be only occupied by you and Ellie, who worked on the broken wood of the stairs outside your porch. You pushed your window all the way open, drawing the blinds back to let in more air. The heat was sticky in the way you hated— pressing down on your body with its humidity, grasping around your arms and legs like a grabby human, wrapping around you with a blanket you couldn't remove. It drew the hours of the day at a much too slow pace, swearing the minutes on your clock ticked a little slower in the muggy day.
It led you to peer out your window, enjoying the sight of Ellie’s muscles flexing against the white wife beater she wore a little too much. The way, even from up here, you could hear the small grunts of effort she let off had you shifting around in your spot, suddenly even more bogged down with heat.
You could only imagine how hot she must be stuck under the direct sunlight. You debate hollering down to her in a request to distract each other from the heat. Instead, you decide to have a little fun, standing up and directly in front of the open window as you pull your shirt off your body. The excuse you tell yourself is that it’s too warm to deal with the itchy fabric, much cooler in the bra and shorts you now dawned. You could feel a gaze on you from the ground below, and you stretched your arms up and above your head to cure the ache as you turned away from the window. You barely had five minutes before hearing the creaking of your front door.
It didn’t take long for you two to find each other in your room, Ellie pressing through the door. “What are you doing?” she questions, kicking off her boots to keep your pristine floorboards free of dirt. Your arms crossed over your body, shrugging. Watching as her breathing seemed to slow, the white wifebeater she wore just looked even more handsome now that you could see the subtle way it was crumpled and off place from working.
“It’s hot; I'm alone, so I got comfortable. Didn’t think peeping tom would see me,” you tease, stepping a bit closer as you wipe a bead of sweat from her freckled cheek. “You knew I would look,” Ellie muttered, slumping gently into your palm. “Maybe I did,” you nod in agreement, a mischievous smile finding its way to your lips. “Maybe I wanted attention..” you offer, hand moving from her face. The pad of your pointer finger runs over the low collar of her shirt. “Need somethin’ to distract me from the heat while daddy’s still out..”
Ellie huffed, her own hand coming to grip at your hand, pulling it off her chest. “So you teased me, hoping I'd come up and play with you?” She asked, dipping against your cheek to press a soft kiss there, pressing more small pecks until they reached your lips, humming when you pushed needily toward her. “Put me to work in your own way?” she chastises, pulling you close enough for a hand to find your ass, digging her fingers into the fat.
“No,” you shook your head, tilting your chin up. Today you wanted to try something different. Reward Ellie for all the hard work she did for the farm. It was an idea that had been building in your mind for a while, and you licked your lips as you began to describe it, “Wanna make you feel good, Ellie. You’re always makin’ me feel good..”
Ellie chuckled softly, her cheeks already red from the sun outside only worsened at your request, palm moving from the swell of your ass to skim over the small of your back, leaving your skin tingling in its wake. “How would you like to do that, pretty girl?”
Instead of answering her with words, you dropped to your knees in front of her, “want you to let me do this for you,” your comments dragged out, pulling the same way the all-encompassing heat did in your room. The bone of your knees find comfort on the small white rug on the ground as you shuffle. You blink up at her, reveling in how she sucks in a breath.
“Fuck- alright—” Ellie fumbled with her hands on the buckle of her jeans, dropping the dirtied fabric down to pool at her feet. Ellie stepped out of them, and you pushed them away, scrambling to be directly beneath. “You ever done this before, baby?” Ellie questioned, petting your hair softly as you made your own move to tug at her boxers impatiently. You shook your head; eyes focused on the small wet patch of her underwear. “I'm a quick learner, though.”
Ellie huffed in response, unable to meet your eyes when your cheek pressed against her slightly spread thigh. You didn’t mind how the heat only pushed further down on your body at the contact, enjoying this humidity too much. Your lips found her thigh, trying your best to recreate the teasing Ellie often enacted on you when the current roles were reversed. Your teeth scraped over the flesh of her inner thigh, tongue following the indents as you spent a few minutes kissing over each thigh, enjoying how you could tell her center was growing weepier by the second. “Don't fuckin tease,” Ellie breathed eventually, her hand finding your head, guiding it up between her more.
Always looking to please, you don’t put up a fight— tongue poking out to lavish over her pussy, collecting the wetness built there. You pressed your neck into an uncomfortable bend, fingers pulling her thighs apart for a better angle. Taking time with the feeling of her shaking chest reverberating on your face, of the only smell and taste you could feel was her, you licked lazily. You searched around her folds to your content. Only had you sped up when that mouthiness of Ellie returned to the silent house.
“Fuck, such a good mouth on you, angel,” Ellie groaned, tugging harshly at your roots as her hips rocked slightly. “You sure you haven’t done this before?” She asked as if you could reply, pressing further down into you as another wave of wetness spread across your lips and cheeks. “Too fuckin good,” she muttered, head tilting back to let a ragged breath out into the air.
The tongue dipped over her clit, causing another swear out of her lips. “Right there, do that again,” she asked, rewarding you with another soft pet over your hair before fingers wrapped in it again. Your body listened before your kind even could, wet lips wrapping around her bud. “Jesus-” Ellie whined. It sends signals straight through each nerve in your body, raising a deep seeded want to hear that sound again, sucking harshly at her clit and then licking up the slick dripping from her slit again, a fast-paced pattern following. You didn’t mind how sticky you felt, how beads of sweat built where your knees folded, how sore your neck was becoming. What you did care about was the now constant groans falling from Ellie.
“What if your dad could see you now, angel?” Ellie spoke, causing you to press your thighs together at the mere thought of being caught. “His pretty little daughter on her knees for the farm hand, acting like she’s starved for my cunt,” Ellie grits, a harsher grip on the locks of your hair. “What would your daddy think, baby?”
If Ellie had told you her words were magic, you would have believed it with the next set of sounds you both heard. Heavy boots stomping up the stairs. Maybe you had been too focused on your current desire to listen to the gravel road crunching under tires or the flimsy porch door opening in the wind. When a harsh knock comes to your door, a hand yanks you from her thighs, neck tilting to look up at messy auburn hair and flushed cheeks. Ellie’s eyes danced around your glossy lips and cheeks, nearly folding to her own knees when you licked at the wetness on your bottom lip.
“You in there, darling? You seen Ellie? All her tools are here, but I can’t find her. The farmer's market ended early cause’ of the heat.” Both of your bodies froze completely, though Ellie’s legs shook in what you assumed to be nervousness.
Ellie gave another sharp tug to your hair, mouthing for you to answer. Your voice struggles to find a footing that makes it sound steady in your throat as you answer your father, “I'm here, Daddy, just takin a nap. I think Ellie’s out in the south barn, remember her saying she forgot some wood for the stairs there.”
Before you can even consider answering again, Ellie is forcing you back between her thighs, and you happily go back to lapping at her despite the way your heart was falling into the pit of your stomach knowing full well one twist of the doorknob would ruin everything.
“Alright, I’ll let you rest. Gonna do some work in my office,” your dad answered. It's a relief when he doesn’t search for a reply, the creaking floorboard sounding at the same time Ellie can't bite back a softer moan.
The sound of his office door shutting has Ellie a little more confident when her rasping voice sounds, “Want you to make me come before he finds us.” She sighs it out, cheeks almost as wet as yours from the sweat building against the freckles there. You were positive there was nothing prettier.
“Want to soak your face while he’s right next door.”
2K notes · View notes
alienpossession · 7 months
Text
My stepson is a rather troublesome kid, especially after his mother's passing. He soon dropped out of college, losing the sense of direction he had and just straight out spiralled into a mess. Not to mention that his coping mechanism involved him to hung out with the wrong crowd and start smoking too despite his mother in the past clearly forbid him since he was a prospective star athlete. He also started to grow agitated to the world and overall just disrespect authorities, which included me as the last person that is bold enough to reprimand him while on his way to do his antics
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After one of our early morning argument as he arrived back home from clearly a long night he did doing God knows what, he just stormed into his room after giving me a middle finger and cursed under his breath. I decided that enough is enough and I did what I knew best to handle reckless and wild human like that
You see....I was not from this planet. I arrived around 20 years ago into this farmland where I stumbled with this young studly farmer that just about to start his days. I slid into him and never left his body as I decided that I would be safe and undetected as long as I did not slid out of him while the search for me was still active. I was paranoid that if I ever left this body, suddenly the detection system spotted me so I resisted the temptation to leave and remained hidden inside while controlling this human that I cultivated into the best version it could be. But this little punk really pushed me to my limit. I'm just so desperate trying to prove my humanity and ability to disciplined the smaller and younger human I supposedly have authority over, I pushed myself out and slid into the sleeping body of my stepson. Once I slid in, I went straight to his brain and started to work it while he's sleeping soundly with zero awareness that a far more intelligent being is currently rewiring his organ responsible for free thinking into one filled with obedience and submissiveness. I was not necessarily the expert on brain's anatomy but I know which part I should and should not touch. Once I felt like my job has been precisely executed, I slid out of his brain and entered back to my original vessel.
Now, imagine my surprise that not only I made that punk into a more docile and submissive version of himself, I somehow made him gay too as I checked on him after the rework I did to his brain. And I guess I graced the part where he can pick up aroma even more strongly this time and that caused him to be a musk-whore for everything's sweaty and pungent. His obsession to his own pits clearly were a sight to behold as it was a far cry from his womanizer self I have to witness for the past few years he brought home girls to his bedroom.
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Aside from his own self, he also loved me. Not the usual familial love, this boy is clearly fucked in the head as he viewed me as some sort of authority to please. It's like him calling me daddy is laced with sexual innuendo rather than the usual way a kid called up his parents. So, like the good father I am and to avoid getting him jumped on me while I sleep as I didn't satisfy his needs, I decided to change our family time where I asked him to have dinner with me to him sniffing my feet and servicing my needs. It's not as cool (and normal human looking) as having him seated next to me watching the TV together or having warm dinners, but that's the way we live nowadays and not like he's complaining anyway.
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I guess I really need to do better with all this brain rewiring
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chiriwritesstuff · 1 month
Text
The Girl in IT - 9. Fools Rush In (Pt. 1)
A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU
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The LIST │ Series Masterlist
Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)
Chapter Summary: A wedding for the ages, Sugar and her damn nerves.
Chapter Warnings and Tags: No outbreak AU, Boss x Employee Relationship, Sugar Daddy Lite, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, Age Gap, Older Man/Younger woman, Frank is a Wedding Planner-zilla, Talks of self-doubt, I hope you brought your tissues!, No Beta we die like men!
Word Count: 3.9 K
A/N: And here we go, the beginning of the end! I will say that I wrote this half-dead and delirious and had to split the chapter into two because I didn't think I could survive writing the entire last part in one sitting. I apologize for that! I will admit that I've cried, no, SOBBED writing this chapter, and I really hope that you like it! Thank you so much for believing in me and loving Joel and Sugar as much as I do! Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!
Dividers by @saradika
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"If you could have any wedding, anything at all, what would your dream wedding look like?" Joel asks one night, his gentle caresses and kisses landing on your head in the dark.
"Would you believe me if I said I never really thought about it?" you smile into his bare chest, snuggling deeper into him. "I never had a reason to think about a wedding, honestly."
"Have you ever thought about getting married to me?" he replies, "Because I've thought about being married to you."
You smile at that. "Really?"
"Yes baby, every single day since I met you, I've thought of you being my beautiful, sexy-ass wife."
"Oh? And what was that like, being married to me?" you ask playfully.
"What I imagine heaven to be like. Waking up to you in my bed every morning, naked, hopefully," he playfully grabs your ass, squeezing. "I thought about you existing in my space, filling the blank spaces in my life. You, on the couch, snuggled up with Sir Bubbles as I cook for you. Saturdays at the farmers market as you wear that silly little slip dress with my shirt, buying flowers. Eating you out on our dinner table, because I find you so much more enticing than any fucking meal on this earth," he gently strokes your back, his fingertips dancing across your skin.  
"I imagine you snuggled up with our kids in bed, reading to them. I imagine them sneaking into our bed at night. I imagine watching you get ready for bed, taking off your makeup, and smiling at me as I watch you from bed, patiently waiting for my beautiful wife to slip off her dress, baring herself to me."
"... and what happens after that?" you whisper, "after I bare myself to you?"
Joel smiles as he shifts the both of you in bed, kissing down your naked body, pressing a soft kiss on your belly, smiling, as he settles himself between your legs. He gently places your thighs on his shoulders, softly kissing and sucking on the skin of your inner thighs. "How about me showing you just exactly what I'll do with you?" he murmurs, his tongue gently parting your folds, the tip of it making its way up to your clit. You arch your back as he begins to eat you out in earnest, your hands grasping at the sheets as he grabs onto your thighs.  
"Papi-" you breathe out, "That's so fucking good, I can't-"
"Shh Mami," he says against your pussy, his hot breath sending goosebumps along your skin. "Let me show you just how I'm going to be taking care of you for the rest of your life."
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#MCG-ADMIN 50 Members Sarah (HR) Aloha Kakahiaka, Team! Are we all ready for our journey tomorrow? I certainly am! I just wanted to leave you all with a few reminders for our trip from Austin to the beautiful island of Oahu, Hawaii:   We will be staying at the Ko Olina Resort in the beautiful city of Kapolei. I've tried to accommodate your room partner requests, and have placed all declared couples to their rooms.   Although this is considered a vacation, we expect that you behave with the company in mind, as the resort has graciously welcomed us back despite the events of the year before - there will be no naked streaking down the halls, under no circumstances. With that being said, please do not distribute illicit drugs among employees. Smoking Marijuana is still illegal in Hawaii, even if they have a "Maui Wowee" strain, Frank. Frank (Interior Design) I think it's a crime for a place that has a strain named after one of their islands to not have legalized Marijuana. They sure produce some damn good weed, though. Connie (Reception) What if it's management that is streaking through the hallways, does that mean that we get a free pass? Tommy  Hey, I'll have you know, I admit I was under the influence of Frank's Maui Wowee last year, and I've already promised my beautiful wife that I won't do it again this year. Frank (Interior Design) I saw what you did there, Tommy.
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Frank Aloha! 👋🏼 Remember Me? [Clears his throat, adjusting the collar of his vintage Aloha Shirt] Well, for those who may have forgotten, I'm Frank. I am the in-house interior designer for Miller Construction Group. I'm also Bill's better half, but we're all well aware of that. Anyway, I'd like to believe I have the most crucial role in our annual Hawaii retreats, but this year is exceptionally special. [Cut to Frank losing his absolute shit on a florist, passionately arguing about the necessity of yellow hibiscus instead of red.] Joel has entrusted me with his special day, and I'm determined to give him a wedding he'll never forget, mark my words. [He smiles.]
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"Welcome to beautiful Oahu!" The receptionist at the car rental company beams, "... and welcome back, Miller Construction Group! We have your vans prepped and gassed for you, Mr. Miller!" He types away at his computer, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. "I also got that special request, and it's waiting for you as well," he whispers to Joel.
"Perfect. I'll take the keys from you, then."
"Alright, team, for those in the wedding party, please don't forget about the rehearsal dinner tonight!" Frank chirps, nodding to himself. "Bill, are you going to be alright with driving Bus A? I'll be driving Bus B, and Eugene-"
"Frank," he cuts off gruffly, grabbing the keys out of his hand. "I know you may think you're running this ship, but I've trained for this day."
Bill I know Frank thinks that this retreat is his baby and that he's the man in charge, but what he doesn't know is that Joel asked me to officiate his wedding.   [He smiles widely, clearing his throat.] I mean, he could have asked anyone. Tommy, for Christ's sake... but he pulled me aside last week and told me that he and Sugar were planning on getting hitched at the retreat and that the both of them would be honored for me to marry them. Me, out of everyone. That's right, Frank. I won. Eat a dick.
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"Bill," you say, approaching him later before the rehearsal dinner. "I have a question for you."
He gives you a small smile, shifting awkwardly from being caught off guard. "Yes, Sugar, I'll walk you down the aisle. It would be an honor."
"How did you know that I was going to ask you?"
"I had a feeling. Besides," he pauses, looking at you with a warm smile, "... I know that things are not the greatest between you and your father, and I can't fathom you walking down the aisle yourself."
You nod, biting your lip. "What did it feel like, when you got married to Frank?"
Bill looks at you intently, sitting himself down and patting the surface of the bench next to him. You sit beside him as he takes your hand in his. "I was scared shitless, honestly. My family, hell... they didn't approve of it," he wipes a tear from his face, nodding to himself as he continues. "I knew that Frank was going to be the one I was going to spend the rest of my life with since the moment I first allowed his ass to play my mother's piano, badly, I might add-" he laughs, "clunking his damn fingers, trying to play Linda Ronstadt. It was brutal, really... but I knew. I knew I had found my person, just like how you found your person in Joel."
"... but what if I'm bad at it?" you question, fiddling with your fingers nervously. "Joel is so good at loving, so good at everything when it comes to me, when it comes to us."
Bill nods. "What are you so afraid of, Sugar?"
"I'm afraid that I'm never going to be enough for him," you admit, smiling sadly at Bill. "I know how that sounds, but sometimes I feel like I can't love him as much as he loves me, that I'll disappoint him, that I'm falling short. I'm so used to being alone, and all of a sudden I'm not, and I just... I don't know how to navigate this. It's new, and I'm just... what if I'm bad at loving someone?"
"Sugar, I'm going to tell you something that I hope you don't ever tell Joel because I'm sure he'll pop my kneecap off," he says with a serious expression. "Do you know how I knew that you were special to him? When Tommy and Maria got married, Joel gave a speech. The speech was going well, talking about how he felt about their relationship... and then, well, the man starts sobbing on stage all of a sudden," he chuckles as if recalling the memory in his mind. "he excuses himself, exclaiming about how he's felt about a woman who he let go because the timing wasn't right, and how he's fucking jealous because it should have been you and him, walking down that aisle, spending the rest of your lives together. He cried, sobbing about his Sugar, and I sat there thinking, who is this woman that has Joel Miller reduced to tears?"
"... anyway, then I hear him and Tommy about hiring a new girl for the IT position, and how Tommy warned Joel to not blow it this time. I thought it was awfully weird, because why would Joel have to worry about blowing it with a stranger?" He gives you a wink, patting your thigh. "... and then, I saw you. You were setting up your office, and I see Joel, hovering by his office door, looking in your direction, scared as shit. I've known Joel for a long time, and I've never seen that man scared in his life."
"I had no idea," you muse, smiling to yourself. "I had a lot of reservations, working for him. We didn't exactly part on the greatest terms... and I didn't know what to expect, having him in my life again. We've been through so much, back then. He would be doing these grand gestures, singing for me, making me believe that he was in love with me... and then he just ghosted me one day. Tommy would start to come to the house instead, dodging my questions about Joel. He looked pretty guilty, telling me he had another important job he had to move onto, it made me believe that he also moved on from me, and found someone better."
"From what I've gathered, he has never moved on from you, even then," Bill replies, taking your hand in his. "The man is just as scared fucking this up as much as you are, and you're not alone in this. Not anymore. Besides, I'll be there for you. Just pinch me if you think you're gonna run, and I'll bring you back to Earth, okay?"
You cry at that, giggling into his shoulder. "You promise?"
"I promise, sweet girl," he places his head against yours. "But I know you ain't ever gonna run from that man. Not now, not ever." He places a kiss on your head. "Now let's get to this fucking dinner before Frank has our heads."
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"Frank, I have an idea for something I want to do at the wedding," Ellie says as she makes her way up to Frank as he fiddles with a centerpiece.  
“Ellie, I don’t have time for this,” he snarks, placing the centerpiece slightly off-center.
Ellie Is this thing on? [she plops herself onto her bed in her hotel room, tying her hair up into a ponytail.] Look, I'm so fucking excited about Joel and Sugar getting married and all. They're my two favorite people on this godforsaken Earth, and I think they deserve their wedding to be perfect.   [She grabs a ukelele from behind her, strumming on it.] I picked this up at the swap meet last year, you know? On a whim. Like how fucking cute is this? A baby guitar?! I forgot I had it, honestly, and when I found out that they were planning on getting hitched on the retreat, I thought, 'Fuck yeah, I can maybe do something for them!' but what could I do that would blow everyone in the water? [She begins to play the chords of an Elvis song] So I did a little research. What is more Hawaii than Elvis? So I asked Bill to help me learn how to play this baby guitar... uke.. keleelee? is that what it's called? [It's Uke-ke-le-le.] Yeah. Whatever. Baby Guitar. Anyway, Bill told me he had the perfect song that I could sing, and I'm gonna sing the fucking song. For Joel... and Sugar.   [She strums again, smiling.] Yeah.
“Frank, I’m going to do this if you agree to it or not, besides, Bill said he was going to help me.”
Frank drops a plumeria as he finally faces Ellie. “What?”
“Yeah, Bill was really excited! He taught me how to play the Ukekeleelee-"
"Uke-ke-le-le-" Frank corrects, shrugging as he faces Ellie. "Go on-"
"I'm gonna sing when Sugar is walking down the aisle," she says confidently. "... and it's going to be fucking perfect!" She runs off before Frank can reply, sticking the middle finger at him as she runs towards Tess and Sarah, drinking at the bar.
"Lord, help me," he mutters, looking out into the distance. "Hey, what did I say about those red hibiscus? they need to be fucking YELLOW!" he screams at the florist.
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"Are you ready, Dad?" Sarah asks as she delicately pins a plumeria onto Joel's suit. "Ready to take the plunge again?"
Joel nods, fingers idly playing with his bowtie, a sigh escaping him as he gazes at his eldest daughter. "Do I appear fearless to you? Because truth be told, I'm scared shitless."
"But, Dad," Sarah says with a comforting smile, "you've got this. It's not about being fearless; it's about finding someone worth facing those fears for."
Joel chuckles, a hint of gratitude in his eyes. "You've grown into a wise woman, Sarah. Wish me luck."
As Joel takes a deep breath, preparing to face the next chapter of his life, Sarah steps back to admire her father. "You look handsome, Dad. Sugar is a lucky woman."
"Thanks, baby girl," Joel replies, his nerves still evident. "Now, let's make sure I don't trip over my own feet walking down that aisle."
Sarah laughs, playfully swatting him on the arm. "You'll do great, Dad. Now, it's time for your happily ever after."
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The sun began its descent over the pristine shores of Oahu, casting a warm golden glow across the sandy beach. The sound of gentle waves provided the perfect serenade for the intimate Hawaiian beach wedding. A makeshift altar adorned with tropical flowers stood against the backdrop of the azure ocean.
Guests gathered on the sand, their bare feet sinking into the warm grains as anticipation filled the air. Frank, with his impeccable taste, had transformed the beach into a dreamlike setting, complete with tiki torches, vibrant floral arrangements, and flickering candles.
Ellie, with a ukulele in hand, stood near the altar, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She strums the first chords of "Can't Help Falling in Love," her eyes watery as she nods toward Joel, who winks back at her.  
“Wise man says, only fools rush in… but I can’t help, falling in love, with you…” she sings, strumming her ukulele softly.  "Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? If I can't help falling in love with you."
As Ellie sang, Joel couldn't help but feel the overwhelming emotion that surged through him. The sight of you walking toward him, the gentle waves kissing your bare feet, left him in awe. His eyes welled up with tears, and a mixture of love and gratitude overwhelmed him.
"Like a river flows, surely to the sea, darling so it goes, some things... are meant to be-"
Bill, placing a supportive hand on your arm, led you down the sandy aisle. His eyes met Joel's, and in that silent exchange, the bond of trust and understanding passed between them. Bill gives you a tender kiss on the cheek before placing your hand in Joel's, quickly rushing behind the both of you as he clears his throat and transforms into the role of the officiant.
"Take my hand, take my whole life too, but I can't help, falling in love with you. But I can't help, falling in love, with you."
Bill clears his throat and straightens up, smiling to the crowd as he turns to you and Joel. "Ladies and gentlemen, friends and family, we gather here today on the beautiful shores of Oahu to witness and celebrate the union of two souls destined to be together. Joel and Sugar, their journey has been one of love, growth, and resilience.
Joel, from the moment you met Sugar, your world shifted. You found someone who not only understands the depths of your heart but also complements your spirit in every way. Sugar, you've brought a warmth and joy to Joel's life that is unmistakable. Together, you've weathered storms and celebrated triumphs, proving that love indeed conquers all.
Marriage is a journey filled with laughter, shared dreams, and, at times, challenges. It's a promise to stand by each other's side, to cherish the uniqueness of your partnership, and to embrace the adventure that lies ahead.
Before we proceed with the symbolic exchange of rings, Joel and Sugar have chosen to share their personal vows with each other. Joel, if you would please begin."
Joel takes a deep breath, looking into your eyes. "Sugar, from the first moment I saw you, I knew my life was about to change. Today, as I stand here with you, I can't help but reflect on the incredible journey we've had. You are my confidante, my partner in crime, and my greatest love.
I promise to stand by you, to support you in your dreams, and to hold you in my heart through all the ups and downs. I vow to be your rock, your partner in adventure, and your steadfast companion. With you, I've found my home, my sanctuary, and my greatest joy. I love you more than words can express, and today, I commit to a lifetime of loving you even more."
You smile through teary eyes as you take your turn. "Joel, from the first moment we met, you've been my anchor, my safe harbor. Today, I stand before you with a heart full of love and gratitude. You've been my partner in laughter, my shoulder to lean on, and the love of my life.
I promise to cherish you, to support you in your endeavors, and to hold you close during both the sunny days and the stormy nights. I vow to be your confidante, your ally, and your number-one fan. With you, I've discovered a love that is profound and everlasting. Today, I pledge to build a future with you, full of love, laughter, and endless adventures."
"Joel and Sugar, as you've exchanged these heartfelt vows, let the love and commitment you've expressed today be the foundation of your marriage. Now, let us continue with the symbolic exchange of rings. These rings are more than mere pieces of jewelry; they represent the eternal circle of love, a love that knows no beginning and no end.
Joel, as you place this ring on Sugar's finger, let it be a reminder of your commitment to her. May it be a symbol of the promises you've made, and a testament to the love that continues to grow between you. Sugar, as you receive this ring, may it serve as a constant token of Joel's devotion and the vows you share.
Joel, please repeat after me as you place the ring on Sugar's finger: 'With this ring, I thee wed, a symbol of my love and commitment to you.'"
Joel smiles as he grabs the ring from Bill's hand, giving you a wink as he starts to slide the band onto your finger. "With this ring, I thee wed, a symbol of my love and commitment to you."
Bill turns to you, a small smile on his face. "Sugar, as you place this ring on Joel's finger, let it be a symbol of your enduring love. May it remind you of the vows you've spoken and the journey you've embarked upon together. Joel, as you receive this ring, may it be a constant reminder of Sugar's love and the promises you've made.
Sugar, please repeat after me as you place the ring on Joel's finger: 'With this ring, I thee wed, a symbol of my love and commitment to you.'"
You shakily grab the ring from Bill's finger, his hand squeezing yours in support as he nods at you. "You can do it," he whispers. You nod, the tears you've been gathering threatening to fall as you lock your eyes with Joel, who smiles through his tears. You grab his hand gently and slide the band onto his finger. "With this ring, I thee wed, a symbol of my love and commitment to you."
Bill smiles, wiping a tear that has managed to fall down his cheek. "These rings, exchanged between Joel and Sugar, are a testament to the love they share and the promises they've made. May they forever wear them as a symbol of the unending circle of love that binds them together. 
As your friend and witness to your love, it's an honor to stand here today and guide you into this next chapter of your lives. So, with the authority vested in me and the blessings of those present, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Joel, you may now kiss your bride."
Joel beams as he pulls you into his arms, his hand wrapping around the back of your head as he kisses you deeply. "I love you so fucking much, Mrs. Miller. Fuck!" he exclaims against your mouth. "Finally! only took us ten years, huh?"  
You hear the cheers of the people behind you, Ellie crying at the altar as Sarah hugs her from behind. You smile as you witness Bill crying in place, holding himself as he laughs through his tears. You smile at the thought of being surrounded by love and happiness, in the arms of the man that you've loved for the last decade, wanting to pinch yourself, making sure that this moment is not a dream, and that it's finally the start of the life you've been dreaming of with Joel. You hear Tommy yelling in the distance. "Kiss again, you filthy animals! I know you want to!"
You laugh at that, pulling Joel into another kiss. "I love you, Papi. I loved you then, I love you now, and I'll love you forever," you breathe. "Thank you for making me a wife, and a mother."
Joel shakes his head. "No, Mami. Thank you for giving me another chance."
Bill collects himself and clears his throat, yelling into the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to present to you, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Miller. May your days be filled with love, laughter, and countless shared sunsets. Cheers to a lifetime of happiness and to this beautiful journey you've embarked upon together."
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Taglist: @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat@gwendibleywrites@brittmb115@joeldjarin@drewharrisonwriter@littlebunnybigheartfics @missladym1981 @auteurdelabre @quicax3 @casa-boiardi @amyispxnk @untamedheart81@paleidiot@laurrrra@la-vie-est-une-fleur29@bbiophiliaa@thewiigers@survivingandenduring (I apologize if I missed anyone, but if you are looking for any of my fic updates, please feel free to follow my updates blog @chiriwritesstuffnotifs!)
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konigsblog · 6 months
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i’m so warmed by all the pregnancy stuff with the farmers 🫣🤭 if you’re up to it! literally anything surrounding that, it’s so soft to read tbf. your writing is always so good, hits every time but the way you write pregnancy just hits different 🩷🩷
— thank you!! i'm glad you enjoy them, it makes me feel more confident in my writing and i appreciate you for saying such sweet things ! 🎀 i wasn't sure if you wanted smut, but this was rotting my mind !
⭒༉‧₊˚. kid headcannons with farmer!MW2 🌾🧺🐄
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farmer!price has mainly sons. little boys always helping out on the farm, gasping when the pigs begin squealing and the birds make their call. takes such good care of them, and you as well. the boys love their mother; running up to you while covered in mud, overalls coated in brown sludge, giving in and hugging them tightly.
simon is a with the farmer concept is hard. i can't imagine it, i can imagine him working down in the bar down in the village, you joining along, or being his little housewife. wearing long dresses, and coming to him with your toddler boy and girl, giving them some sweets so they'll be alright and talking with your confident, funny husband.
(trying with the farmer!simon concept) who smokes a lot and always stinks of tobacco after a hard day. his little boy and older daughter (2 year difference between them) giggling with eachother, watching as she protects him. he's so proud of her and always makes time to help with her homework after breaking his back taking care of the carrots and cabbages.
farmer!soap who has 2 daughters. they're his princesses, and he'll do whatever it takes to keep them safe. walking with them, hand in hand, sent down to the village for fruits and vegetables by their mother. helping you make some blueberry pie for your husband after a long day. his daughters falling asleep at the dinner table with blueberry pie all over their faces.
farmer!gaz who has daughters. he treats them like angels, and appreciates when they help with the animals. i imagine his daughters to enjoy helping on the farm when they're a teenager; taking care of chickens and bringing back eggs, or getting hay on their jeans and t-shirt. spends a lot of time with them and they all appreciate his work.
farmer!könig has only daughters, i can't imagine him with daughters, at all. has a lot of daughters, perhaps 5, or maybe a pair of twins. they're so cute when they're toddlers; falling asleep on their daddy's lap, and getting their faces messy with cheesecake after dinner.
he's an amazing dad, and loves reading to them before bedtime. has an album of photos of them from their younger ages, and sometimes fell asleep on the rocking chair when they were newborns and woke up crying.
farmer!alejandro has daughters too, no son's for him. he definitely treats them like princesses and loves how sweet they are. makes funny jokes, and is very overprotective of them. oh, his daughter wants to go down to the village? no matter if she's a teenager, she's not going alone. if she waits for him, he'll buy her a ice-cream and allows her to help with the cows despite his constant scolding for asking! don't worry, he'll handle it.
farmer!rodolfo who has 1 daughter (i'm sorry, i can barely imagine half of these characters with son's!!) he lets her help on the farm and always appreciates her help. doesn't want to force her, but allows her to clean the pigs and take the eggs back to the house for her mother to use. when she was a baby, he'd kiss her every night and sit on a rocking chair beside the fireplace, lulling her to sleep and teaching spanish to her in her older years.
farmer!graves who has 3 sons, and his youngest, a daughter. they all look like him when he was younger; 3 replicas. his daughter has gorgeous, soft blonde hair and his blue, silverish eyes. not only does he treat her like a princess, he refuses to allow her to work on the farm.
— encourages his son's to help him on the farm, while she plays with barbie dolls on the porch and eats any freshly baked cookies her mother made. her brother's are around 9, and a pair of twins, 8 when she's 3. a sweetheart who has a pure, giving heart and always makes her father little cards or paper people using his old newspapers.
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uncpanda · 8 months
Text
The Ties that Bind: Family Tree
AN: I'm baccckkkk Please enjoy this update. It takes place in season six
Master List
Warnings: None I think
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“Hello Hotchners!” 
“Hi mommy!” 
“Hi angel.” They both smile at you from the table. You drop a kiss on the top of Jack’s head and he smiles up at you. 
Things had been significantly better since the farmer’s market incident. In the three weeks since, you and Aaron had gone to several sessions with Jack. His therapist was helping the three of you  come together as a blended family. Your own therapist and Aaron’s had also been brought in and caught up by Jack’s. 
You peck Aaron’s cheek and he catches your arm, and squints at you. “Proper kiss, please.” You barely resist smirking; instead, you roll your eyes and peck his lips. “That wasn’t a proper kiss.” 
“Jack is right there.” 
This time it’s Aaron who rolls his eyes. He wraps his arm around Jack’s head, so that his hand settles over the boy’s eyes. Jack giggles and you swoop down and kiss your boyfriend properly. 
“Happy?” 
He releases Jack, “With you? Always.” 
You slip your shoes off and notice what’s on the table, “What’s with all the pictures?” 
“I have to do a family tree. Here’s daddy and mama and grandpa and grandma and aunt Jess. I still need pictures of you and Uncle Spencer.” 
“I’m in the family tree?” 
Jack nods. 
“Give me a few minutes and I’ll get my photo boxes out.” Once Jack is focused on the pictures, you jerk your head towards the bedroom. Aaron follows after telling Jack he’ll be right back. 
He cracks the door to your bedroom. You turn on him, “How the hell are they still doing family trees? Families are complicated and . . . is Jack okay with this?”  
Aaron smiles, “Yes. He was very excited about the project, and Jess is bringing over more pictures of her brother and sister.  He wants to include you and Spencer.”
You let out a breath, “I swear he is the sweetest kid I’ve ever met.” 
Aaron smiles, “I’m pretty happy with him.” 
You start shirking out of your clothes and you can feel Aaron’s eyes on you. You shoot him a wink as you change out of your work clothes and into lounge pants and a t-shirt. You head to the closet next and pull out one of your picture boxes. It’s really just a decorated shoe box. One of three. It holds a lot of your loose pictures; the ones not in albums. 
You carry it out to the kitchen table and set it down in front of Jack and his eyes light up. You roll your eyes when he just dumps it out on the table. You start shifting through the pictures. 
“Who’s this?” 
“That is Bryan. My high school boyfriend who was extremely delusional.” 
Jack’s brow furrows in an uncanny imitation of Aaron, “Delusional?” 
“He wanted to get married right after high school. I moved to California instead.” 
Jack giggles, and Aaron asks, “What?” 
You clarify, “He wanted to get married right after highschool, his parents wanted to finish raising Spencer, and they wanted me to start popping out grandbabies.” 
“It sounds like the start of one of my cases.” 
Jack holds up a new photo and you wince, “Who’s this?” 
Aaron scowls, “That’s the bastard.” 
“Aaron! Language.” 
“We only use that word in relation to this one man. He hurt mommy’s feelings.” 
Jack’s face grows serious, “I don’t like him.” 
You pluck the picture out of Jack’s hands and stare at you and Joel. You look at both of your boys and rip it in half. You throw the part that has you back in the box and rip the part with Joel in half. 
“Happy?” 
Aaron lets out a huff, “Only if I get a punch in one day.” It’s muttered, and you nudge him. 
“Look at all of these of you and uncle Spencer.” 
“Yeah, it was mostly just the two of us.” 
“Here’s one of you and uncle Sean, daddy!” 
Your eyes go wide, “You have a brother?” 
This is the first time you’re hearing about a brother. Aaron hesitates, and then tells Jack, “Why don’t you take a break, buddy?” 
“Okay.” And just like that he’s gone to go play. 
There’s a moment of silence, “You have a brother?” 
He nods, “Sean. He’s thirteen years younger than me. We’re not close.” 
You nudge him with your shoulder, “I figured. Why did you never mention him?” 
He takes a breath, “I was ashamed. You and Spencer are so close. You gave up everything to raise him, and I . . . I pretty much abandoned Sean.” 
You poke your tongue against the inside of your cheek, “Aaron. You know more about my resentment towards my parents, and about my childhood than anyone. Even Spencer.” 
Aaron hesitates, “You know more than anyone else too. Even Haley didn’t know the extent of my dad. She just thought he yelled. Sean was not the subject of his anger, and apparently when I left for boarding school it mostly became verbal. But I still left him there.” 
“Your dad sent you away, Aaron. You didn’t have a choice.” 
He bites the inside of his cheek, “Still, I should have. . .” 
“It’s not the same.” Aaron pauses and you continue, “I’m not saying Sean was safe. Not with your father around, but he was okay. He had food. And Heat. And AC. And from what you say, everything he could wish for. That doesn’t excuse the mental turmoil he or you or your mom went through, but there was nothing you could have done. They wouldn’t have let you take him to college or anything like that. They certainly weren’t going to give you a say in raising him. Every situation is different.” 
He rubs his hands together, “I still feel guilty.” 
Quietly, you admit, “I still feel mad at my parents. Our parents screwed us, Aaron. We make the best of it. And when it comes to our own kids, we make it right. We stop what they did. We’re already doing it with Jack. He doesn’t have to worry about anything. He’s not scared of you or Haley or me.” You cover his hands with yours and squeeze, “We’re doing great if I do say so.” 
He smiles and tugs you towards him. You leave your chair for his lap and you kiss him. 
“Ewwww.” 
You and Aaron smile and turn to find Jack making a face. The two of you share a look and then you’re chasing after him. You catch him first, and then Aaron catches the two of you. Together the three of you gently fall onto the bed. Your happy little family.  
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the-bau-quinjet · 1 year
Text
Back to Me
Summary: Aaron needs you and Jack to come back to him.
Word Count: 8030
Warnings: kidnapping, CM type violence, guns
A/N: Not gonna lie, I love this story. I'm very obsessed with our dear Agent Hotchner right now. I might not be the best writer, but I am actually proud of the story :)
Masterlist
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The sound of the lock in the door opening clued you into his arrival. You shifted slowly, not wanting to wake Jack as you climbed out of his bed. He had only just fallen asleep a few minutes ago as you finished reading him a story.
"Aaron?" you called quietly as you moved through the apartment to the front door. Just when you wrapped your arms around him, his phone started ringing.
"Hotchner," you stayed hugging him while the conversation played out. "I'll be there in an hour." He hung up, finally returning your embrace.
"Do you want me to wake Jack? Say hi before you have to leave again?" you asked, relishing in his embrace a little longer.
"No, better to let him sleep. The case is local, so I shouldn't be gone long." Aaron replied, stepping out of your arms and retrieving his bag. You followed him down the hall, watching as he unpacked and changed before getting ready to leave again.
"Hey," you stopped him on his way out of the bedroom. "I love you, okay?" He sighed in relief, stalling his exit to pull you back into another hug.
"I love you too. Thank you." After another moment, he stepped back. He kissed your forehead before turning to head back down the hallway and out the door.
-
You met Aaron a little over a year ago. You had just moved to DC for a new job and decided the farmer's market would be a fun change of pace.
"Thank you," you smiled at the woman selling produce before turning back to the rest of the market. You roamed aimlessly through the stalls, not looking for anything specific.
"Excuse me," you turned at the sound of a young voice, surprised to find a small boy trying to get your attention.
"Hi there," you smiled, squatting down to his level. "What's your name? Are you here alone?" you asked. The boy couldn't have been any older than six or seven.
"I'm Jack. I came with my daddy, but I can't find him. I just wanted to get some candy, cause there were free ones." He held out his hand to show you the candy.
"It's nice to meet you, Jack. I'm Y/N. what does your daddy look like? I can help you find him." You listened as he tried to explain his dad, but the description could mean anything. What does tall really mean to a six-year-old? All you really know is that he has dark hair. "Okay, what's your daddy's name?"
"Aaron!" he answered excitedly, proud to know the answer.
"Alright, let's start looking!"
You hadn't made it more than five steps before someone was anxiously scooping up the boy. The man looked relieved to find him, but Jack's reaction wasn't what you'd expected. He looked stiff in the man's arms.
"Jack! I told you not to leave my side," he spewed on and on about how happy he was to find him, Jack's face tucked into his shoulder.
"What's your name?" you were too skeptical of the situation to let him just walk away with Jack.
"Hm? Oh, Aaron," he smiled. "Thank you. For keeping him safe." He nodded toward Jack.
Despite his correct answer, something didn't feel right. Jack stressed that his dad's hair was dark. Sure, this guy has brown hair, but it wasn't exceptionally dark.
"Just a minute!" you called before he could walk away. You grabbed Jack out of his arms, catching the man off guard. "Jack, is this your dad?" He just shook his head, eyes wide.
"Hey! Give him back!" The man screamed, reaching for Jack. You turned away from him, shielding Jack with your body. "Give him to me you stupid bitch!"
His yelling only justified your decision. You leaned over Jack, protecting him from the man who you were now sure is not his father. Unbeknownst to you, the man's yelling caused quite a scene in the otherwise peaceful farmer's market.
"Jack!" You heard another voice yelling for Jack, but your adrenaline was pumping too much to let him go. The man was still reaching for Jack, hitting and scraping you. Jack's safety was now your top priority.
Eventually, someone pulled the man off you, but the yelling never stopped. He kept screaming "that's my son" or "give him to me" over and over. You could hear sirens in the distance, growing closer.
"Are you okay?" you leaned back just far enough to look Jack in the eye. He nodded his head, but you could easily tell how scared he was.
"Where's my dad?" he asked, voice shaking. You opened your mouth to respond when someone else started talking.
"Excuse me, ma'am? Could you explain what's going on?" you turned to see a uniformed officer asking you the question. Her partner was holding back the man who claimed to be Jack's father. You picked Jack up without even thinking about it, still feeling him shaking. You explained everything to the officer as quickly as you could, not wanting to put Jack through anything else.
While the officer wrote everything down, you finally had a chance to scan the newly amassed crowd. Jack looked with you, still anxiously searching for his father.
"There!" he pointed. "That's my dad! DAD!" You followed his line of sight, finally noticing a dark-haired man pushing his way through the crowd. "Daddy!"
Jack bounced with excitement as his dad got closer. When he finally reached you both, Jack practically jumped from your arms to get to him sooner. That is more like the reaction you expected.
You stepped back, letting the two of them greet each other. The officer asked you more questions, moving on to whom you could only assume was actually Aaron. You couldn't help but overhear his answers.
"I was putting my change away and when I turned around he was gone." He held tight to his son, barely looking at the officer asking the questions.
"Then I found that lady and she saved me from the bad man!" Jack chimed in, turning the focus back to you. You smiled at Jack.
"I'm just happy I could help."
Before you could say anything else, the police started talking again. They collected everyone's information, taking down everything they would need to call you in for a formal statement.
You shook Aaron's hand and said goodbye to Jack, assuming that would be it. You didn't fully realize how involved you would be in the case against the man who attempted to kidnap Jack. Thankfully, he took a plea, so you didn't have to testify in a trial.
Throughout the process, you saw Aaron and Jack a few more times. With each encounter, you learned more about the two of them. You found yourself looking forward to seeing them. When you received a call with the sentencing information, informing you the case was over, you found yourself mildly disappointed that you no longer had an excuse to see them.
That feeling was quickly followed by guilt. You would only serve to remind them of Jack's near kidnapping. Being free of you would only improve their lives and let them move on.
For a few months, that was it. You had thought your life was Hotchner-free. But, a chance encounter at a coffee shop changed everything.
"Y/N!" a young voice shouted your name causing you to turn around. Just as you finished spinning toward the sound, you felt the force of a six-year-old boy throwing his arms around you.
"Jack!" you nearly squealed, squatting down to hug him better. You looked around for Aaron, surprise covering your features when you couldn't see him. "Where's your dad?"
Jack paused, looking around with you. "I don't know. He... he was right behind me. But then I saw you in here so I ran to get you!"
"Well, let's go find him." You held out your hand for Jack, carrying your coffee in the other. Just a few steps later, Aaron was running into the store. He stopped short when he saw you with Jack.
"You must think I'm a terrible father," Aaron sighed.
"Not at all," you smiled, leading Jack toward him.
"You're a great daddy!" Jack chimed in, eager to calm his father's fears.
"Thank you, buddy. I need you to stop running away from me," he smiled down at his son, taking his hand from you.
"But you said to stay with adults I know, and I know Y/N!" Jack explained.
"That's right, bud. You do know me." You smiled at Jack, trying to keep this light-hearted despite the serious potential consequences. "But, you shouldn't run away from your dad. He worries about you, so you should tell him where you're going. Then he can help keep you safe." Jack nodded, hanging on your every word.
"Daddy, can Y/N come with us to lunch?" Jack asked, bouncing with excitement. It seems you weren't the only one missing your time together. Aaron looked at you, the question clear in his eyes. You smiled, a slight nod showing your agreement.
"I don't know. You'll have to ask her." Aaron smiled slightly, encouraging his son to actually ask you instead.
"Y/N, do you want to come to lunch with us?" Jack asked, more shyly than when he questioned his dad.
"I'd love to buddy. Let's go."
It didn't take much for you to fully fall for Aaron, especially when you started loving Jack along with him. You grew closer every moment you spent together, and eventually confessed your feelings toward each other. A few months ago, Aaron asked you to move in with them.
-
It wasn't unusual for cases to happen back to back like this. The last case took a little over a week, but that meant nothing when another case popped up immediately. At least with a local case, you've got a chance of seeing Aaron at night. However, returning to work this late could only mean emergent attention was needed. You hated to think what that meant.
Instead of dwelling on it, you checked to make sure Jack was still asleep before getting ready for bed yourself. You followed your nightly routine methodically, still trying to clear your head of what Aaron could possibly be facing.
Everything was completely normal when you finally settled into bed. You checked on Jack one more time while you turned off the hall lights, then laid down in bed to read. You were just a few pages from the end of a chapter when you heard a noise down the hall.
"Jack?" you asked, walking down the hall. You looked in his bed, glad to see him still asleep. You heard another sound in the kitchen just as you shut the door to Jack's bedroom. "Aaron?" you called.
You continued down the hall, eager to see Aaron again so soon but nervous about what it could mean for the case. Just as you turned to enter the kitchen, you felt a sharp pain across your forehead. Then, everything faded to black.
-
You groaned as you woke up. The pain in your head made your thoughts foggy. You reached to rub the spot that hurt, but your arms were stuck behind your back. The restriction of your movement jolted you to the present, reminding you of the events before you lost consciousness.
"Jack," you whispered, anxiously looking around the room. No light streamed in from windows near the ceiling of the warehouse-type building you were being held in, so you knew it couldn't have been long. There were crates and boxes strewn about the room, some covered in canvas cloths.
You pushed yourself across the floor toward the nearest stack of crates, stretching as far as you could to pull the cloth off. Dust floated through the air, the cloth falling over your head. You moved desperately across the floor trying to rid yourself of the covering.
Finally getting free, you pushed yourself back toward the crates. You searched the edges, looking for anything rough enough to help you get rid of the tape. The rough concrete floor tore at your skin as you pushed further and further to search the other edges.
On your third try, you found a nail sticking out of the corner near the very bottom. Getting into the correct position was harder than you expected, and you scraped your hands and wrists in your efforts to cut the tape. Still, you managed to free your hands enough to rip through the last of the bindings. You quickly used your newly freed hands to tear the tape from your ankles as well. Slowly, you rose to your feet. You could feel your limbs were weak after being restrained.
You crept toward the door quietly. Before opening it, you listened for the sound of anyone on the other side. You could hear a faint whining, but no other movement. You winced at the sound of the door opening, but you moved through the doorway anyway. Jack was in the corner, his hands and feet bound similarly to your own, but with tape over his mouth.
"Jack," you rushed toward him. You removed the tape as carefully, but quickly, as possible. "Are you okay?" He nodded, but the tears in his eyes betrayed his true feelings. "Come with me."
You grabbed his hand, again looking around the room in an attempt to escape. There was only one other door in the room making for an easy decision. Once again, you stopped at the door to listen for anything on the other side. When you didn't hear anything you slowly pushed through the door. You pulled Jack behind you, trying to keep him out of harm's way.
The new room looked just like the previous two, with one more door on the far side. Listening for noise on the other side, you could hear footsteps coming toward the door. You pushed Jack behind a stack of crates, ducking down with him just as the door flew open.
"FBI, show yourself!" A voice you'd never heard before called through the dust.
"Oh, thank God. Jack, let's go." You picked him up and ran toward the agent paying no mind to your weary limbs or the fact that Jack really was too big to be carried. "Where's Aaron?"
"He's checking another site, please come with me." The man guided you out of the warehouse and to a running SUV. You climbed in the back with Jack still holding him close to you.
"Where are the people who took us?" you asked, wanting to be sure you and Jack were safe.
"My colleagues took them in just a few minutes ago. We found them in the front of the warehouse. It's nice to finally put a face to the name, Y/N" he continued.
"Oh, of course! It's nice to meet you..." you drifted off, clearly waiting for a name.
"Derek. Derek Morgan," he supplied. You felt Jack squeeze your hand, but you attributed it to nerves.
"Well, thank you, Derek. You're alone here?" you questioned curiously. It didn't make sense for an agent not to have a partner.
"Like I said," he started. "My colleagues left to take in the men who took you." Once again, you felt Jack squeeze your hand. This time, you turned toward him.
"What's up, buddy? Derek is taking us to your dad." You tried to smile, but it was clear to both of you that it was a little forced. Jack shook his head as you spoke, gesturing for you to lean in closer.
"That's not Derek," he whispered, eyes wide.
"What?" you asked, although you heard him clearly. "But then..." Your adrenaline started pumping as you realized the precarious position you now found yourself in. "It's okay Jack. I'll figure this out."
"I don't think you will, Y/N. I don't think you will." The man driving cut the act. "I have to say, you weren't supposed to get out of the restraints. How'd you manage?" You ground your teeth to hold in your rapidly fluctuating emotions. "Oh, that's okay. I'll use something stronger than the buffoons who took you. Idiots."
Your mind was reeling as you tried to remember everything you knew about self-defense and how you might lead Aaron to you. A secondary location was bad enough, but a secondary kidnapping? One who you left with voluntarily? There won't be anything at the scene to tell them where to go... If you're going to get out of this, you have to do it yourself.
-
"What are we doing here?" Morgan asked, his exhaustion giving way to frustration.
"Tori Fallon, age 6, was reported missing an hour ago. She was taken from her bedroom after her parents read her a story." JJ filled in the team as Hotch walked through the door.
"What do we know?" he asked, not one to waste time on pleasantries.
"The window was broken and there was a note left," JJ added.
"From a chained accommodation, I see a desert with monuments built by the hands of an adolescent." Spencer read the riddle, pausing only momentarily to think. "A playground. Is there a playground she went to frequently?"
"Let's find out, she lives 25 minutes from here. Let's go," Rossi chimed in, already rising from his seat.
"A playground?" Emily questioned as they walked to the SUVs.
"A chained accommodation is a swing, the desert a sandbox. Children build sandcastles or 'monuments' in the sand." Reid shot back.
"Dave, take Morgan and see if you can find anything at the house. JJ, go with them and talk to the family. Reid, Prentiss, we'll head to the playground."
The team all nodded with a newfound focus driven by the motivation to find the missing girl. It didn't take more than half an hour for Hotch to pull the SUV to a stop in the playground parking lot.
"Check the swings and the sandbox. He might've left another clue," Hotch instructed, one hand on his weapon and the other holding his flashlight.
"Hello?" a young girl called out, her voice clearly terrified. "I did what you said!" she cried.
"Tori? We're with the police, where are you?" Emily called while Hotch and Reid followed through with the original plan.
"I'm in the slide!" she called, her voice more urgent. "You have to get me out, those were his rules!" Emily rushed to her, quick to check the slide was clear before climbing inside to help Tori. Hotch and Reid met them as they climbed out. Tori was completely fine, although still terrified.
"You're parents are on the way. They'll be here soon." Hotch tried to reassure her. "Whose rules?"
"The man you took me here. He said to stay in the slide until the police came to get me out. Or else he would hurt my mommy and daddy." She was still shaking in Emily's arms as her parents pulled up to the playground. JJ, Morgan, and Rossi walked up to the rest of the team, the question clear on their faces.
"Why kidnap a child and leave her completely fine at the playground 5 minutes away?" Rossi voiced the obvious.
"Reid." Hotch nodded to him and Spencer held up the note he found in the sandbox.
"For this," he unfolded the note, all eyes on him. "Lost something?"
"That's it?" Morgan asked, incredulous.
"No, there's a picture..." Reid turned the page around to show the team. It wasn't a recent picture, although Hotch was the only one who could tell with absolute certainty when it was from. You were squatting so you could be at eye level with the young boy you were talking to. The concern on your face was evident, but you were clearly smiling to appease the child. Hotch remembered that day. How could he forget? He nearly lost Jack and met you in the process.
He had his phone in his hand, speed-dial assisting him to make the call before anyone else had looked up from the image on display. "Answer the phone... Answer dammit!"
When the phone went to voicemail, Hotch immediately started moving. He gestured for the team to follow, but didn't bother waiting to see if they would. Dave and Emily got in the car with Aaron. Morgan, Reid, and JJ followed in the other SUV.
"Garcia,' he started when the next call connected. "I need a visual on my apartment building. I can't reach Y/N or Jack. Look out for a white male, dark hair, 5'9". Name is Tucker Landry."
"Running background as we speak." The sounds of Garcia rapidly typing could be heard in the silence. Hotch was already ten minutes from his apartment. "I've got the footage, sir. Two men, both white, but blonde."
"Dammit!" Hotch hit the wheel, his desperation leaking through. "I can't do this again, Dave. I can't lose them."
"You won't," he promised. "Garcia, track their car."
"Already on it, sir. I've followed them four miles north, but they're about to leave the city limits." She continued typing, tracking the car while simultaneously running the check on Landry.
"Find him," Hotch ordered. Meanwhile, he pulled up outside his apartment building. Despite knowing what he would find inside, he ran from the car. Forgoing the elevator, he took the stairs two at a time up the three flights to his apartment. The door was ajar, and drops of blood littered the hallway.
Rossi and Emily pushed past him into the apartment, clearing the rooms as they searched. Hotch stood paralyzed at the entrance, too stuck in the thoughts of what he could find to force himself through the door.
"All clear, they aren't here," Dave called from the kitchen. When no response came, he moved back to the door. "She's not here, Aaron. By the looks of it, they took them both alive."
Hearing that he still had a chance was what he needed to jolt him into action. He was back down the stairs before Morgan pulled the other SUV to the curb.
"What are we looking at?" Morgan asked, JJ and Reid coming around the other side of the SUV.
"Home abduction, minimal blood. Garcia tracked the car north but lost them at the edge of the city." As Rossi filled everyone in, Hotch was already profiling.
"He was opportunistic last time he tried to take Jack. He's not organized enough to coordinate this." Once again, he had his phone in his hand. "Garcia, did you find any properties in his name?"
"Yes, sir. I was about to dial you myself. Tucker Landry's father owned an old warehouse 10 miles north of the city. When his business went belly up, the warehouse was abandoned. Coordinates are already sent."
-
The warehouse appeared abandoned when they arrived, but that was nothing new. "Morgan, Prentiss go around back. Dave, JJ check for a side entrance. Reid, you're with me." Hotch ordered his team, already on the way inside.
With each room cleared, his anxiety worsened. His need to find you and Jack was nearly overwhelming. Finally, they entered a room, coming face to face with Derek and Emily.
"Back here!" JJ called. "There's duct tape and drops of blood. It looks fresh."
"They were here recently," Dave added. "It looks like she cut herself out of the binding on a nail."
"This is disorganized. So where are they?" Hotch paced, his mind running a mile a minute but coming up with no answers.
"Two bodies out back, looks like the blondes from the surveillance footage," Emily supplied.
"Why lead us here only to take them somewhere else?" JJ questioned.
"The riddle, the 'fake' but real kidnapping to get you out of the apartment, the picture we found there... It's all been about the chase. He wants to feel the power he wasn't able to last time." Reid spoke quickly, trying to keep up with his own train of thought.
"He can't have meant for Y/N to get out of the tape. He might have a plan, but it's not very well thought through." Just as JJ finished talking, Morgan's phone started ringing.
"Babygirl," Morgan started, but he was quickly interrupted.
"Were they there? Are they okay?" Penelope jumped in, the need to know overwhelming her.
"They must have been here recently, but they're gone. We found the blondes, dead. Is there anywhere else he could take them?" he asked.
"The other reason for my call, although I was hoping you wouldn't need it. Landry's father died a few weeks ago. He left Tucker the house in his will. The paperwork hasn't all been filed because he should still be in prison, which is why I missed it on the first pass."
"Coordinates?"
"Already sent. Go get them." Penelope hung up, nervously looking for any more information she could find just in case. The rest of the team split up once more, hoping this would be the ride that lead to your and Jack's safe return.
-
Jack was bound, tape over his mouth, in the opposite corner of the room. You could still hear him crying, the tears pouring down his small cheeks. This time, he locked you both in a bedroom.
After forcing you and Jack into the room at gunpoint, he made you zip-tie Jack and cover his mouth with more duct tape. He then forced you to bind your own legs before quickly binding your hands. Still, he followed your example and bound your hands in front of you like you did to Jack.
With all the force you could muster, you pushed your hands out and pulled them toward you as fast as you could, pushing your wrists apart on the inswing. It took a few tries, but eventually, you felt the plastic snap. The ties around your feet were harder. Maneuvering closer to the bed, you pushed yourself up until you could cross one foot over the other. Then, you tried to sit down, flattening your ankles. Once again, you felt the plastic give.
Before you could move to free Jack, you heard footsteps coming up the stairs. You quickly moved back to your original position, laying the zip ties around your arms and legs as if they were still attached. At the last second, you gestured for Jack to close his eyes.
Finally, he opened the door and walked into the room with the same level of casualty you'd expect of an old woman on a Sunday stroll. He glanced at you and Jack, clearly pleased you hadn't been able to escape his supposedly superior binding- seems he wasn't much smarter than the so-called buffoons that kidnapped you first.
"I'm sure you're wondering why I didn't cover your mouth." He started talking, and you had to force yourself not to roll your eyes. "Now we can finally talk," he smirked. "Do you remember me?" he waited. You squinted at him, trying to recognize any of the features. "Stupid bitch, just like before."
The words triggered a memory. Suddenly, you were back to leaning over Jack, protecting him from an onslaught of force from the man you knew not to be his father.
'Tucker," you whispered, involuntarily glancing at Jack. Thankfully, he didn't seem to recognize the man or the name.
"And she finally gets it!" he laughs. "You ruined my life. That boy," he points at Jack, "was my ticket out! Out of debt. Out of the country. OUT!" You didn't need to be a profiler to notice he was manic and devolving. "You know, when they gave me the task I thought that was it. There was no way I could figure out how to steal a child. And, boom, then he walked right past me, unaccompanied. But of course, you had to RUIN IT!"
He punctuated this most recent fit by hitting you across the face with the butt of his gun. You winced but still waited for the right opportunity.
"They broke me out of jail to finish the job. You see, bookies don't take kindly to getting stiffed, especially not the kind I've dealt with." Finally, his whole story made sense. "I had him! This would've been so much easier if you just stayed out of it." The sound of his laughing would haunt you for the rest of your life. "And now? Now you get to watch as I get the money I need, and I'm gonna use that kid-"
He turned as he spoke, gesturing to Jack with his empty hand. You took the opportunity to strike, your fear for your own life and Jack's life taking over.
Dating Aaron had many perks, but knowing how to defend yourself was possibly the most important thing he taught you. It was easy enough to surprise him, knocking into him hard enough to get him to drop the gun. Using the momentum to your advantage, you hit him in the solar plexus with the butt of your hand - no harm in falling back on knowledge older than your relationship with Aaron. Miss Congeniality was there for you when he wasn't.
When he fell backward, you quickly stooped to pick up the gun. Standing firmly, you braced yourself the way Aaron taught you, careful to stand at an angle that allowed you to point the gun at Tucker without having Jack in the background.
Tucker stood casually despite the gun aimed at his chest. His glare never left his eyes, but the pretentious smirk on his face clued you in. He was still underestimating you.
"You don't have it in you to shoot me."
You pulled the trigger with no hesitation. The bullet knocked him back to the ground, blood leaking from the chest wound. You could only hope Jack listened to your earlier warning and closed his eyes. You stood frozen, gun still pointed at Tucker for a moment. He was still looking at you when you saw the light leave his eyes.
Suddenly, his phone started ringing. The noise was enough to jolt you into action. If he was trying to sell Jack, then it's possible other people were on the way to the house right now. You made sure to click the safety on before stuffing the gun in the back of your pants like you see in movies.
You found yourself chuckling at how Aaron would definitely yell at you for bad form but now wasn't the time. Without a knife, you weren't sure how to free Jack without hurting him. Instead, you removed the tape from his mouth and carried him out of the room.
"It's okay. I'm gonna get you out of these and we're gonna drive away until we're safe and can call your dad, okay?" Jack just nodded, tears giving way to panic. Your frantic movements likely weren't helping, but you were running on pure adrenaline.
Making it down the stairs with Jack was difficult, but not impossible. Then, it was just a matter of finding the kitchen and using a small knife to cut through the zip ties. The fake FBI vest Tucker wore to "rescue" you was sitting on the counter. It might not be FBI issue, but maybe it is actually bulletproof. You slipped it over Jack's head and tightened the straps as best as you could without wasting too much time.
Thankfully, Tucker threw his keys on the counter as well, so you were able to grab those and head for the front door. Just before you could actually open the door, headlights shone through the windows and you froze.
"Let's go out the back, okay?" you grabbed Jack's hand and the two of you took off. You knew the house backed up to the woods from the ride in, so you ran until you and Jack had enough trees between you and the house to offer cover. You were close enough to see the people running into the house, but you couldn't quite hear them.
"Okay, this could be the actual police. But, it's only two cars... real police would bring SWAT and ambulances."
You sat with Jack behind the trees, holding him close while you tried to think of a plan. Running to the car would almost certainly end poorly. Staying in the woods would only work for so long. You glanced around the tree, thankful that the people inside left their headlights on. You could see clearly all the way down the driveway.
"Alright Jack, here's the plan: we're gonna steal one of their cars. They parked further down the driveway, so if we sneak through the woods we can reach the car without running into the open. Okay?" Jack nodded, his hand gripping yours tightly.
The two of you started making your way as quickly as you could manage with the limited light. As far as you could tell, the people were still looking for you inside- you could see their flashlights in the upstairs windows. About halfway to the car, you heard the back door bang open.
One of them was yelling, but over the sound of your own heart beating and the crunch of leaves under your feet, you could barely hear them. You pulled Jack a little harder, trying to reach the car faster now that the people were outside.
-
"They have to be here somewhere, fan out!" Aaron screamed, his panic clearly showing through. He took off toward the woods leaving the rest of his team to follow. "Please, Y/N. Please. I need you to be okay. I need you to have Jack. I just... I need it." Aaron muttered, desperately scanning the woods with his flashlight for any sign of you and Jack.
He was so deep into the woods he could barely see the house when he just barely heard Morgan yelling. His heart nearly stopped and for a minute he froze. Then, he ran.
-
"C'mon, Jack! We're nearly there," you whispered, still holding each other's hands tightly. When you were finally level with one of the SUVs, you wasted barely a glance before jumping out. One of the people was definitely headed in your direction, so you needed to move quickly.
You threw open the backseat, forcing Jack into the car and quickly the door. Already on the driver's side, you threw open your door as well. You could hear the closest person yelling, this time near enough to hear his words.
"Stop! FBI!"
You didn't let the claim phase you, instead hoisting yourself into the car and slamming your own door shut. "Jack, you buckled?" you asked, fastening your own seatbelt.
"Yeah," he whimpered, still terrified.
"Okay, close your eyes again buddy. I'm gonna keep you safe." You threw the car into reverse, whipping around only to find two other people in FBI vests waiting for you. An older man with a beard and a young blonde woman stood in front of you, guns in hand but not pointed at you. You could see the man who yelled running toward the SUV in your rear-view mirror.
Indecision coursed through you. You'd already taken one life today and these people were strangers. The gun you took from Tucker sat on the passenger seat, but you knew a car was a better weapon. You shifted into drive and pressed the gas, praying these two would just get out of the way. When the two realized you weren't going to stop, they jumped to the side, giving you a clear path out.
It was only when you reached the street that you realized you had no idea where you actually were. It was easy enough to remember the way back to the main road, but everything after that is a blur. It only took a few minutes for the other SUV to catch up to you.
You could feel the panic beginning to set in as you sped down the road. You couldn't see any turn-offs and the road was deserted. The people following you were going to catch up. The question was, what were you going to do about it?
-
"Who was that?" JJ asked, not bothering to dust the dirt from her pants before running with Morgan and Rossi to the other SUV.
"Call Hotch. That was Y/N and Jack," Morgan filled in as he started driving.
"You're sure?" Rossi questioned. When Derek merely nodded, he pulled out his phone. "Aaron, we found them. Y/N's a fighter. She managed to steal one of the SUVs, Jack's in the backseat."
"Where are you?" Aaron felt his panic subside, but he knew he wouldn't be fully calm until he had them in his arms again.
"We're following about a mile back, but she's in fight or flight. If her instincts said running was the safest bet, you can be sure she won't stop until she has to." Dave answered, doing his best to help calm Aaron's fears.
"So, how do we get her to calm down if we can't contact her?" JJ posited.
"She'll calm down if I'm there. I know she will," Aaron was quick to answer, but Rossi was just as fast.
"If we turn back now, we'll lose sight of her. If she thinks we can track the car, she'll ditch it. Aaron, where would she go?"
"Guys..." Morgan nodded toward your car, noting its declining pace. He slowed with you, maintaining the distance. Suddenly, you pulled a 180 and slammed to a stop and they watched as Jack ran from the car into the woods. "What the hell?"
"She wouldn't separate the two of them without good reason. Stop here," Dave instructed as they pulled up about 30 feet away. To their surprise, you got out on your own and stood behind the car door.
-
You needed a plan and you needed it quickly. Looking around the car, for anything that could help, you finally noticed a phone in the cupholder. Calling Aaron would help your nerves, but he couldn't help you fast enough. You needed a plan now.
"Jack, I'm gonna pull over. When I do, you have to take this phone and run into the woods," you started forming a plan, but Jack wasn't having it.
"I don't wanna leave you!" he cried, tears once again pouring down his face.
"I know, buddy. I know! I need you to be brave. I just need you to run and hide and call 911, okay? I'll stay near the car to keep the bad guys from following you. Then the police and your daddy will come to help us, okay? Can you do that for me? Can you call for help?" you hated putting this kind of pressure on him, but it was your only idea to keep him safe.
"I can do it," he said through tears, gripping the phone tightly when you passed it to him.
"You're so brave, Jack. Your dad is gonna be here soon," you could only hope you were telling the truth. "Don't come back out to me until you hear the police sirens, okay? Are you ready?"
After a few deep breaths, he whispered that he was and you slowed the car. Confident that they weren't going to speed up to crash into you, you whipped the car around and put it in park. Jack followed your plan precisely, running from the car as quickly as his little legs could carry him.
You quickly checked the bullets in your gun counting only five. It would have to do. Without much thought for how insane the entire situation was, you threw open your door and took cover behind it. Gun in hand, you watched the other car just sitting there while praying for the sound of sirens.
After a moment, the three people exited their SUV and stood in a similar fashion to you.
"Y/N, we just want to talk! We work with Aaron!" The older one yelled to you. You could tell the younger one who first yelled at you wanted to follow Jack into the woods.
"Don't come any closer!" you screamed back. "If you work with him, then why isn't he here?"
You know Aaron wouldn't give up the chance to find you. He wouldn't let himself be left behind, not when Jack and you were on the line. You won't fall for this again.
"He's back at the house," the blonde one chimed in. "He was searching the woods for you when you managed to escape."
You started shaking your head before she finished her sentence. After everything you and Jack had been through, you stubbornly refused to believe he had been so close and you missed him.
"We're FBI. We're here to help." The older one started yelling again, but you didn't know what to believe. "I have Aaron on the phone."
You had no idea if he was telling the truth, and no plan came to mind to get the phone without putting yourself in danger. But if Aaron really was on the phone...
"What are your names?" you asked. Even after a year together, Aaron was still too anxious to actually introduce you to the FBI world. Despite never meeting his team, he has told you plenty of stories about them.
"My name is Jennifer Jureau, friends call me JJ." Her voice was calm as she spoke.
"Derek Morgan," the younger man added and you sobbed. You could hear the older man giving his name, but you couldn't understand them. It was the same name. You had no way of knowing if they were telling the truth.
"Why don't you let me get Jack out of the woods? He's probably scared," the man claiming to be Derek called, already moving toward the woods.
"No. No!" Your hands shook as you lifted the gun. "Don't go anywhere near him! I'll shoot! You saw Tucker!"
"Gun!" One of them yelled and they all jumped back behind the doors.
"Y/N, we just want to talk. Tell us how we can convince you."
-
Aaron was still on the phone with Dave, listening as they tried to calm you down. Emily holding him back was the only thing stopping him from chasing after you on foot.
"I should be there, dammit!" he screamed, pacing.
"She's safe, Hotch. We called for backup," Reid started, but screaming on the other end of the phone stopped everyone.
"Gun! Y/N, we just want to talk. Tell us how we can convince you!"
Dave must've shifted the phone to speaker and set it on the car because Aaron could hear you yelling this time.
"That's what he said!" Your voice was raw and shaking and his heart broke a little more. "He said he was there to help and he lied. He lied! Where's Aaron? I just want Aaron."
Finally, the local police pulled into the driveway. Emily and Spencer stayed behind to fill in the officers. Aaron practically jumped into the first squad car that pulled up to the house, paying no mind to the police that just left the vehicle. He used Emily's phone to follow the GPS coordinates Penelope sent once the two SUVs stopped moving.
-
"I just want Aaron," you practically sobbed. You hastily rubbed your cheeks to rid yourself of the tears. You were so close, you couldn't give up now. You were still trying to come up with a plan when you finally heard sirens approaching.
Jack ran to you from the woods when the first squad car pulled up. You threw the gun to the ground and wrapped Jack as tightly as you could. Everyone was approaching you, but you only had eyes for Jack.
"You're okay? Does anything hurt?" you asked him, eyes running over his entire body.
"I'm okay," he started. He was going to continue when his eyes lit up. "Uncle Dave!" He ran from your arms to hug the older man from the other SUV. "Uncle Morgan! Aunt JJ!" He hugged them all before returning to you.
You felt renewed tears when you realized what Jack's reaction meant. "You're actually FBI? Aaron... Aaron's at the house?"
"He's on the way here now," the real Derek Morgan filled you in.
"I- I'm sorry I pointed a gun at you," you swallowed, hugging Jack again while you spoke. The relief of finally being safe was setting in and you realized how exhausted you were.
Before any of the agents could reply, another squad car screeched to a halt. The door was opened practically before the car was fully stopped.
"Aaron," you whispered just as Jack screamed, "Dad!"
Aaron was to you and Jack before either of you could take a step. For a few minutes, he just held you both.
"Daddy! I called the police and you came! Just like Y/N said," Jack was all smiles now that everything was over. He would obviously need to work through all of the trauma experienced in the last six hours, but right now he's just glad to be with his dad.
"Of course I did, buddy," he answered, still holding the two of you. "I'll always come for you. Both of you," he squeezed tighter before looking between the two of you. There were uncharacteristic tears brimming in his eyes and his voice betrayed the emotion he was clearly experiencing.
"Jack, why don't we take you over to the ambulance to get checked out? I'll stay with you," Dave guided him over, removing the too-big bulletproof vest as they went.
"Where did you get a vest?" Aaron tried to smile at the adorable image of Jack in an oversized vest, but it vanished when you sobbed into him.
"I'm so sorry, Aaron. I'm so sorry. I wanted to get him out and I walked right into his trap. Tuck- Tucker pretended to be FBI, said the rest of his team took in the guys who kidnapped us and you were searching another potential site. I, I shouldn't have gone with him. I should've known. I-"
"It's not your fault," Aaron cut you off. "You kept him safe. You got him out," he comforted you.
"He," you hiccuped. "He said he was going to sell Jack to pay off his debts. After I... I killed him..." you trailed off. You were only now coming to terms with the events that transpired. "I didn't know if the people coming into the house were the buyers. I didn't know if you'd be able to find us when he took us to a tertiary location. I had to get away. Once I got Jack to safety I was going to call you, but then we were being followed."
"You don't have to go through this now," Aaron interrupted the story, trying anything to get you to stop shaking.
"I do," you insisted trying to get through it quickly. "I found a phone in the car," you started up again, wiping your cheeks. "I asked Jack to run into the woods and call 911 so he wouldn't be caught in the crossfire. I thought... I was willing to kill them if they tried to take Jack," you sobbed.
"I never wanted you to have to do that, but I need you to know how proud I am of you," Aaron soothed, and you managed to choke back your tears enough to listen to him. "I know you did everything to protect Jack. You fought and you bled and you did what you had to to make sure both of you came back to me," his voice broke as he finished the sentence.
"You came for us too," you breathed out. You held each other for another moment before Jack came running back.
"Uncle Dave says it's your turn to get checked," Jack grabbed your hand. "Are you okay?"
"I'm okay, Jack. I'm just so happy that you're okay, and that your dad is here," you squeezed his hand back. He pulled you toward the ambulance and Aaron followed along. They both stood with you while you got cleaned up, Jack still holding your hand. With these two by your side, you knew you'd be okay.
Taglist:
Permanent: @averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman @strawberryspence @ellobruv
CM: @mac99martin @goldeng1rl8 @measure-in-pain @justreadingficsdontmindme
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marycorn · 11 months
Text
A/N: Thoughts empty, just thinking about Yoichi Isagi as the dad of a lil girl 💗🩷😪 (Isagi and reader are both in their 20's, Reader's gender is not specified)
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Dad Isagi! who carries his child around everywhere, on his hips, in his arms, or on his shoulders, doesn't matter, being able to carry you and his toddler at the same time is what motivates him most in the gym
Dad Isagi! who has his girl sitting on his thigh after the match while he gives interviews, her head buried in his chest patiently waiting to go home. And the world is just bewitched by her cuteness when she looks up at him and say "daddy I wanna go home, am hungy." And he coos. "Just a lil longer, and I'll make you whatever you want, princess."
Dad Isagi! that buys her the cutest bows and the frilliest dresses ;((
Dad Isagi! teaches her how to play soccer and how to fight/defend herself. He spends hours playing soccer in the garden with her, and wether she's good at it doesn't really matter ( he doesn't need her to be the best in the world), he just likes to share his passion with his child
Dad Isagi! would ask you to teach him how to braid hair and do hairstyles so he can do his daughters hair before dropping her off at kindergarten (he struggles but tries his best and gets better over time)
Dad Isagi! who literally spoils her rotten and can't deny her a single wish
Dad Isagi! takes her to practice sometimes, when you have to work and can't take care of her, and his teammates love his daughter! Even Rin (though he'd never admit it). He always carries her around and plays with her, kicking the ball around and letting her score goals. Bachira loves to chase her around, and Nagi would sit her down in his lap while playing video games with her. Reo would spoil her even more than Yoichi 💀and buy her all kinds of stuff, like the rich uncle he is. The blue lock boys are literally just a giant extension to your family and would all gladly take care of your child, it's just a matter of who you'd trust with her...
Dad Isagi! loves cuddling with her. He'll read her a bedtime story and cuddle her until she's asleep. After a while he carefully sneaks out of bed
Dad Isagi! who goes grocery shopping with her after practice and gets her any sweets she wants because he doesn't have the heart to say no
Dad Isagi! who cooks dinner together with her, and is so happy when you come home after an exhausting day at work, smiling and being welcomed by the delicious scent of his cooking. And he'd stand in the kitchen with a 'kiss the cook' apron, and welcome you with a sweet kiss on the lips, muttering "Welcome home, love. We missed you."
Dad Isagi! carries her around the house, plays with her dolls and plushies, and gives them funny voices and watches cartoons with her
Dad Isagi! who's literally the talk of the town when he rolls up in his sports car, his cute angel of a daughter in her child seat on the passenger seat of his Porsche. Everyone else stares at him, as he pushes his daughter sat in the shopping cart through the farmers market. He's literally the hottest dad in town, maybe even in all of Japan. And when people try to flirt with him he politely declines, stating "He's happily married, and has this wonderful child with you."
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A/N (again✌️): Dad Isagi literally makes me want to melt 😭😪 he's so hot and then he pulls up in his expensive ass sports car, child on the passenger seat with sunglasses looking all cool. He's a literal Dilf 😭😫 takes his child to his games and they get the best seat 😭 walks into the stadium with them 😪✌️ I'm not crying, you are
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withahappyrefrain · 2 years
Note
https://withahappyrefrain.tumblr.com/post/681614607965683712/yall-got-any-more-blondepeter-or-dilfpeter
…who says dilf peter can’t be blonde….
Anon, you are absolutely right. We shouldn't limit ourselves.
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Summary: Peter brings back an old hairstyle you haven't seen in years. It brings back a lot of uh, urges.
Warnings: blonde DILF teacher!Peter (proceed w/ caution folks), afab!reader, Peter being an amazing girl!Dad, Daddy kink, breeding kink, and oral (f receiving)
"So there's something you should know." You looked up at your husband from the array of goat soaps you were looking at. The four of you were in the midst of your weekly farmer's market visit. You adjusted Sophie so she was resting on your hip.
"What did you say your students could do?"
Over the years, the details had changed, though the message remained the same. Back when you first met Peter, it would have been "What did you say your fraternity could do?" Post college, it changed to "What did you tell Miles he could do?"
Now that things had settled down (as much as they could with a four year old and two year old), you knew when Peter prefaced with that sentence, it usually had something to do with his high schoolers.
"So I told them how back in the day, I had blonde hair for most of college," He started.
"Daddy had blonde hair?" Sophie asked, resting her head against your chest.
"He did! And I take it that they wanted to see pictures," You said, looking at Peter.
"They did. So I showed them some old pictures and...." Peter paused, "And we made a bet."
"Dadda bet," Olivia babbled. Your two year old was perched on Peter's shoulders, playing with his hair. Peter said he kept it long because he looked good with it, but you knew it was because he loved having the girls play with it.
"What's a bet?" Sophie asked, not looking up from observing the necklace you had on.
"A bet is when you say you'll do something if another thing happens. If that thing doesn't happen, you don't have to do what you said you'll do," You explained to your preschooler.
You looked back at your husband, "So what did you bet with your students? Please tell me it doesn't involve me making dessert for them again." You winced at the memory of having to make over one hundred sugar cookies.
"I told them if over eighty percent of them got a B plus or higher on their chemistry exam, I'd let them dye my hair." It wasn't the worst bet Peter had agreed to (you still had trauma from when he shaved his head senior year of college).
"Well, your chemistry exams are known for being killer. So your hair should be safe," you went back to looking at the soaps, knowing Peter would assure you that you were right.
Except he didn't.
You looked up to find him making that 'please don't be mad at me I'm so cute' smile he always tried to use to soften you up.
"Peter......" You said in a warning tone. It was one word, but it screamed 'You better reassure me right now'. He continued to stare at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes. Despite years of being together, it still made your heart flutter.
"....When are they dying your hair?" You finally asked.
"Tomorrow during class." He put his hands on Ollie's hips, lifting her off his shoulders and resting her against his chest. Your toddler looked so small against his broad chest.
"Aren't you supposed to be....teaching?"
"Dying hair is all about chemicals and reactions! It's totally educational!" He paused, "Besides if my principal comes in, I'll just tell her I'm building relationships with my students. It is one of my strong suits."
You rolled your eyes, "Yes because you allow them to dye your hair!"
"Is Daddy gonna have new hair?" Sophie asked, "What color is it?"
"Yes, Daddy," you gritted the name, "What color will it be?"
Peter smirked, "It's a surprise!"
"Surprise surprise," Ollie babbled, playing with the strings of Peter's hoodie.
Well, at least you couldn't say life was boring in the Parker household.
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The next morning, you rested your head on Peter's chest, savoring the few moments of quietness the two of you would get before your alarm would go off, waking up your two energetic children in the process.
"I'm going to miss you," you said longingly, staring at the brown lock you had twisted around your finger.
"I'm dying my hair, not going off to war," Peter remarked, rolling his eyes.
"Just promise me you won't shave it off. You'll just let it grow out, okay?"
"Wow, I see someone is still traumatized from when I shaved my head senior year," Peter rolled his eyes as he wrapped his arms around you, bringing you closer to his chest.
"Maybe if someone had given me a heads up that they were shaving their head, I wouldn't be so traumatized." You still remembered the horror that ran through your body when you came in that day to find Peter sitting in a chair, half of his hair gone, and Miles on the counter with an electric razor in hand.
"I told you I was getting a haircut."
"A haircut and shaving off your head are two different things, Parker," Peter wiggled his eyebrows at your old nickname for him.
"I promise, I won't shave it off….only if you promise that you'll trim my hair while it grows out."
"Deal." You eyed your alarm clock, which was due to go off any second.
"Today's your day of meetings, right?" Peter asked. As much as you joked about how scatterbrained he could be sometimes, he did a better job at keeping track of important dates than you.
"Yup, so you'll have to pick the girls up from daycare."
He smiled, "They'll get to see the new hair before you." Peter pressed a kiss into your temple.
"I'm sure they'll be very excited," you giggled, "Now c'mon Dad, it's time to get up."
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As you fished for the keys to your apartment, you could hear the sound of your daughters' laughter coming from inside. Based on the muffled noises you could hear, you assumed they were playing 'Spider-girls' and Peter was playing the villain.
When you found out your second child was another girl, Peter joked it was karma for his fraternity days. It was clear as day that he loved Sophie and Ollie with all his heart and then some. When you were pregnant with Sophie, you knew he was nervous about whether he would be a good father.
"Peter, if I had any doubts about that, do you think I would have allowed you to get me pregnant?" You told him at the time. It wasn't until he held Sophie for the first time that his doubts faded away. Within three months of her birth, Peter was asking if you two could "have another Sophie".
While Ollie was way more outgoing and loud than Sophie, you wouldn't have your family be any other way. You found your keys and began unlocking the door, embracing whatever chaos was inside.
Sophie and Ollie were on one side of the couch. Both were giggling despite having a finger up to their mouths to tell the other one to be quiet. You could see Peter was on all fours, only his long legs visible as they were sticking out of the couch.
"Bring me the Spider girls!" You heard Peter say, his voice deep and cartoonist. You quietly put your bag down, not wanting to interrupt the game. Your daughters couldn't contain their laughter.
Spider Girls was their current favorite game. It always involved Sophie and Ollie being "Spider-Girl" and saving the city, just like "How Daddy used to do with Uncle Miles!" Sometimes you played the citizen who needed help. Almost always, Peter was the big bad villain.
Sophie and Ollie quietly (their version of quiet) backed away from the couch. Peter's legs disappeared, you could hear the sound of his hands slamming against the carpet, alerting the girls that the "big bad man" was getting closer.
"I got you two now!" Your eyes widened when a blonde Peter popped out from the couch.
Fuck.
He was blonde again. His students dyed his hair blonde.
It was a strange sight. You felt like you were looking at a different Peter, the one you met in college. Except instead of smoking a blunt and trying to crudely flirt with you, he was now pretending to be under a hug attack from Sophie and Ollie.
Memories started flooding back. Memories of when you first met him, when the two of you were paired for a chemistry project, when he pushed you up against the wall and made out with you after watching you dance, memories of how he threw you on your bed and-
"Mommy!" Sophie's voice broke you out of your less than pure thoughts. You smiled, kneeling down so you were at eye level with your girls, who were running towards you.
"Did you girls beat the big scary man?" You asked excitedly. They nodded their heads. You looked over at Peter, who was running a hand through his now blonde hair. You couldn't get over the sight.
"I don't know…..I don't think we have him beat yet," you whispered loudly.
"What we do?" Ollie asked.
"Looks like you need," you took your hair out of your ponytail, doing a dramatic hairflip that caused your girls to erupt into giggles, "Spider-Woman! Let's get him!"
You herd your daughters over to Peter, who didn't even try to pretend to put up a fight. He let his three favorite girls gently pin him down to the floor (he still retained his super strength, despite hanging up the red and blue costume after Ollie's birth).
"Not a triple hug attack! I'm doomed!" Peter said in-between laughs.
"We did it! We saved the city!" Sophie said. She was the first one to get up. Ollie quickly followed, running after Sophie who was now heading towards their shared room.
You, on the other hand, continued to lay on top of your husband, resting your forehead against his.
"Hi," He whispered, unable to contain his smile.
"Hi," you replied. You tilted your head back, your eyes trailing up to take in the hair. You were impressed with the quality of a dye job his students had done. Far better than Miles' work back in college (not that you'd ever tell him that).
"Do you like the hair?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
You reached out a hand, running it through his now much lighter locks.
"I feel like I've been transported back in time," you paused, "Though I can't see college you playing Spider-Girls willingly."
Peter laughed, "Brings back a lot of memories, huh?"
You rolled off of him, allowing him to sit up. You leaned back against the couch, taking in the sight.
"It does. Like when I found out for my big Chem 201 project, I had gotten paired with the douchey frat bro who sat five seats down from me," you smirked.
Peter shook his head, getting on his hands and knees so he could crawl over to you. You couldn't say it felt like a predator stalking it's prey. After all, what kind of prey opens their legs to let the predator in?
"Really? That's what you thought of?" He asked. You knew the answer he wanted to hear. But despite ten years of being with Peter and two children with him, you still weren't going to give in easily.
“That’s a core memory for me, I was so pissed off!” You paused, grinning, “It also…officially introduced me to my future husband and father of my children, I guess.”
“I guess,” Peter repeated, rolling his eyes. You leaned in, decreasing the distance of your lips but not closing the gap all the way.
“What memories were you hoping I would recall?” You asked slyly.
“Oh….I don’t know,” He paused, pretending to be deep in thought, “Maybe that time you and I finished the keg at the spring mixer….or maybe that time I made out with you in front of that rando who wouldn’t stop flirting.”
Peter leaned in, his lips ghosting over your’s, “Or maybe that time I fucked you senselessly in a coat closet.”
Your breathing had become heavy. Peter’s lips brushed over your’s. You leaned forward to close the gap. Whether it was his “Spidey-sense” or his need to tease you, he leaned back.
“Aww, is someone now horny?” The hair combined with that infamous smirk and teasing tone made you feel like you were at some frat house again, with Peter cornering you so you couldn’t escape his grasp.
“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sure, you two were married and you could have just easily told him yes, that you wanted him to fuck you up against a wall. But where was the fun in that?
“I don’t know if you’ve forgotten sweetheart, but I know when you’re turned on. I can smell it,” He leaned in to begin sucking on the spot right below your ear.
Fuck if that nickname didn’t bring back a whole lot of hot memories.
Your actions from reminscenting of those specific, spicy memories were cut short by the sounds of Sophie and Ollie arguing.
“You know, sometimes I miss the days where the reason we got interrupted was because someone had to use the bathroom,” Peter muttered as he got up. He stuck out a hand to help you get up.
“Let’s hurry before they start fighting on the ceiling again,” You said, picking up the pace of your walk. Having three people in your house with Spider-like abilities was….interesting to say the least. Luckily, Peter was there to crawl up and grab the girls if needed.
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After breaking up the fight your children were having on the ceiling, things calmed down enough in the Parker household for you and Peter to make dinner.
It didn't stop Peter's hand from lingering on your body. You shot him a knowing look.
"What?" He gave that fake innocent look, "I can't admire my beautiful wife and mother of my children?"
"You need to be good and help me cook dinner, Daddy." Based on the sharp exhale, the way you whispered the name did exactly what you wanted.
Peter placed his hands on your hips. He pressed your hips against his. You could feel his growing erection against your ass.
"I'm always a good Daddy for you," Peter whispered, his breath hot in your ear.
"Then tell me what this sauce is missing," You held up a spoon to him. Peter took the spoon up to his mouth. He wasn't giving up on you yet.
"Paprika."
He was just going to wait.
"How did I forget that?" You asked yourself out loud, grabbing the spice and giving it a couple of shakes over the pot.
"Should we tell them there are veggies in this sauce?" Peter whispered. You shook your head.
"Let's wait until Ollie is four. I think by then they'll still eat it after we tell them the recipe."
"Yeah, but then would Ben still eat it?" Peter asked, concern written all over his face, assuming you knew exactly who he was talking about.
"Ben? Who's Ben?"
"Either the name of our only son or of the male dog I'm getting after the birth of Annie Grace Parker so I'm not the only man in the house," he said before taking a sip of his wine.
You laughed as you stirred the pasta sauce, "I just want to remind you that it was you who asked for another daughter after Sophie was born." With Ollie getting closer to turning three, the idea of trying for a third child was getting brought up more and more often.
"Yes, and I'm quite thankful that happened," he pressed a kiss to your temple, "and now I'd love to have a son."
"I'll tell that to my uterus during my monthly meeting with them," you retorted.
"What's a uterus?" Sophie asked as she walked into the kitchen, Ollie quickly behind her.
"It's a body part that you don't have to worry about for many years," you explained to your eldest.
You and Peter got your daughters situated at the table and began serving dinner. Throughout, your eyes kept looking up to Peter’s hair. It was….odd. He hadn’t been blonde in years. And yet, the hairstyle brought back so many memories.
“Do you like Daddy’s new hair?” Sophie asked. Peter raised his eyebrows at you before taking another bite of his food.
“I do,” You smiled at your oldest, as your eyes met Peter's. He wiggled his eyebrows, a gleam in his eyes nothing short of mischievous.
"You know, Daddy looked like this when he met Mommy," Peter explained. Sophie giggled.
"Did you think Daddy was pretty?" She asked you. You smiled at the question, looking at your husband.
"I did….amongst other things." You winked at Peter. Your daughters didn't need to know about the disdain you had for Peter when you two first officially met.
Or that you wanted to fuck the smirk right off his face.
The rest of the evening was uneventful, saved for the ass grab from Peter while doing the dishes. The two of you helped Sophie and Ollie get ready for bed.
You smiled at the sight of Peter playing with Ollie's hair as he tucked her into bed. Your toddler stuck a hand out, motioning to Peter's hair. He leaned down, allowing Ollie to attempt to imitate his motions.
After a few bedtime stories and many forehead kisses, the girls were finally asleep. You closed their bedroom door quietly.
You turned around, about to make a comment to Peter when the next thing you knew, your feet were off the ground. It took you a few seconds to realize Peter had picked you up and slung you over his shoulder.
"What are-" your sentence was cut off by a firm smack on your ass.
"We just put them to sleep, you really want to wake them up?" Peter growled, "Or would you rather I fuck you?"
You nodded your head.
"What was that sweetheart? Couldn't hear ya?" Peter smirked as he walked down the hall with you, getting further away from your children's bedroom and closer to yours.
You mumbled an answer, hoping it would be enough.
The second smack across your ass told you it wasn't.
It also told you it was going to be one of those nights.
"Gotta answer me sweetheart," Peter reminded you, his tone mocking. He was standing right outside your bedroom, his hand on the doorknob.
“I want you to fuck me, Daddy,” You whispered, loud enough so he could hear it.
The sharp exhale through Peter's nose told you that was exactly what he wanted to hear. He opened your bedroom door and quickly closed it.
He gently put you down on the bed (while you liked being manhandled, Peter knew you didn't like feeling like a ragdoll).
“Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to fuck you?” He sat down next to you, leaning over. You reached up to run a hand through his newly colored hair.
“Since this morning?” You asked, a smirk appearing on your face.
“The hair brought back a lot of memories,” Peter hooked his fingers onto the waistband of your sweats, “Memories of me fucking you, specifically.”
“Gee, couldn’t,” You held back a gasp when you felt the cool air hit your core, “tell.”
“Oh please, like you haven’t been thinking about it. That cunt’s been soaked for the last two hours,” Your eyes widened at his words. The fact he was saying this while taking off your sweats and underwear so casually drove you wild.
“I….I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Peter spread your legs apart. He leaned over, his lips hovering over your’s.
“You know Daddy wins this game every time, right?” He whispered, “Just admit you’re a slut already.”
You raised an eyebrow at Peter’s word. “I’ve said way worse.” He defended.
“You’re not wrong, considering the things you said when we were trying to conceive,” You tried to ignore Peter’s fingers that were trailing down your stomach. It wasn’t really working but you were caring less and less as time went on.
“I just really like the idea of fucking a baby into you, can you blame me?” Peter’s fingers slipped into your cunt easily. You bit your bottom lip, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
You couldn’t think of a response. Instead, you focused on how sinful it looked to see Peter adjust himself so that his head was in between your legs.
You didn’t get to enjoy the sight for very long, as he angled his fingers to hit that sweet spot inside of you, causing you to throw your head back. Peter’s mouth latched onto your clit, eliciting a whine out of you. You quickly turned your head so your mouth was covered by the pillow.
“I thought you were going to fuck me,” You whined.
Peter looked up, the lower half of his mouth wet, “We’ve been together for over ten years. You know the rules: Daddy eats that pretty little cunt of yours first, and then you get fucked.”
You knew the rules. You just liked hearing Peter say them.
As he pushed you closer and closer to the edge with his mouth and fingers, the grip you had on his hair tightened. A particularly strong tug earned a deep, guttural moan from Peter.
You buried your face with a nearby pillow as you came, doing your best to conceal your moans. You could feel Peter's hands move up to pin down your thrashing hips, his tongue still trying to get every last drop.
"Fuck me. Please. Please fuck me Daddy," You whined. He was right, you had been horny all day as well. In the back of your mind, you also knew time was of the essence as a parent and you wanted to get fucked before getting interrupted.
Peter reached over to the draw in your nightstand, fishing around for a condom.
"Don't." He looked at you, his eyes wide.
"Are…..you sure?" He asked. It was clear as day that he was trying to contain his excitement.
You nodded, a smile forming, "Ollie will be three years old in two months and she's about as potty trained as an almost three year old can get."
"She was telling me yesterday that she wants to be a big sister like Soph," Peter grinned as he closed the draw.
"You sure you weren't just projecting there Parker?" You teased.
"You gonna let me put a baby in ya?" He whispered.
"Can't guarantee it'll be a son but-"
"You know I don't fucking care," Peter crashed his lips onto yours. Without breaking away, he awkwardly pushed down his sweats.
You titled your head back at the sensation of the tip of his cock pushing into you, beginning to stretch you out and-
"Daddy? Mommy?"
You two froze, looking at each other, hoping you both just simultaneously imagined hearing Ollie's voice.
That hope was dashed when you heard a little knock on the door.
"Where did our kids get their impeccable timing because it sure as hell wasn't from me," Peter whispered.
"Daddy! Mommy!" You heard Ollie's voice again, this time more urgent.
"What is it baby?" You asked, trying your best not to sound annoyed. Peter regretfully pulled out and pulled up his pants.
"Can't sleep."
"I'll get her," Peter said, trying to adjust his sweatpants so his erection wasn't as obvious.
"Daddy's coming, okay bug?" Peter said.
"Okay Daddy." You heard Ollie say on the other side of the door.
Peter leaned over, his mouth on your ear, "You're going to wait right here and when I get back, I'm going to fill you up over and over again until there's a baby inside that belly, alright?"
You nodded your head eagerly.
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capsensislagamoprh · 2 months
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Because I am god damned shipping trash and you can't stop me, I started looking up things. When I saw this:
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I had a hot moment of: BWAHAHAHAHAH! Then I was like: I wonder what the other names mean. The rabbit hole.
I found a twimbler by jikooksubunit that basically summed up to : Katsuki Yuuri means ‘student of a victor who benefits from courage’ and I think that is beautiful. And I was like: Fuck yeah.
Then I went further down, because fuck you, you can't stop me.
Yuri Plisetsky means (first name) farmer [unless he's Jewish, in which case it means Light of God] (last name) Influencer/Freedom Lover/Charisma. Which, I mean, humble origins, willing to suffer for what he wants, and damned if he's not an influencer with his own style and everyone wants a piece of him (for good or ill). Also a fucking demonic angel. So... yes.
And as you know, shipping trash don't do half. So I looked up Otabek Altin. We all know Altin means gold. What dose his first name mean, google? Fucking help me! So it did. It's actually an Uzbek name. It can be translated as "The Father of all Dukes" or “The Greatest Duke”. In middleage it was also a title for all the heirs coming from a certain lineage of Taimur. MY MIND FUCKING BLOWN.
Fucking ICE KING Winner-Winnerson
his Queen/King consort SIMPAI TAUGHT ME HOW TO KICK YOUR ASS
there feral ice child some times called princess to the determent of everyone with the sheer chutzpah to try it HO, I'M GONNA AND MAKE YOU PAY THE BILL RESPECT MY ETHEREAL, DAINTY, TOUGH AS NAILS ASS, YOU BASIC BITCH
and his BFF/prince charming : LITERALLY A FUCKING ROYAL BLOOD LINE MADE OF GAWD DAMNED GOLD, A.K.A. original 'Daddy of them All' (it's in the fucking name!), called a hero of his home country (rescue Yurio, on your modern day steed, daddy?). [Calmly exert your 'dad energy' in that 'you have awoken the beast' way that the wild cat some times needs?] Ether way, mah dudes. Ether way.
No wonder his ass can afford to ship that bike where ever he wants. Yurio is gonna get so damned spoiled. I love this fucking fandom.
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wordsbymae · 2 days
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Late One Stormy Night Pt. 2
This is a continuation, including a large time jump, of my original farmer storyline, the canon events if you will. I would have loved to do this for flower seller and mousy au, however I feel it fits much better for the original farmer. I may do one for the other aus as well. Also this is just a short little snippet into where this reader ends up, I have spoken in depth about their life together, but this is years down the track, where pumpkin has finally given in.
Triggers: Pregnancy! FemReader, Stockholm syndrome ofc, reader has pretty much been brainwashed into being a perfect house wife, if you didn't know the context or if I didn't remind you within the text, it would seem like a nice love story. feminism please do not judge me
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A kick against your belly halted your movements. A small smile etches across your face. You drop the washing you had just grab back into the basket that lay on the lush green ground beneath you. A gentle spring breeze floated past, bringing the scent of pine and grain past. The babe in your belly has only just started to move within you. You had yet to fully comprehend that life, a new being, was growing within you. Another kick, against both your belly and hand this time, brought a giggle to your face. The sound of tyres on dirt brought your attention to your husband pulling up in front of the house. Your giggle faded. You didn't like remembering the time before you were allowed in the house, the time you spent huddle within a stable in the barn. When you fought against his every action and offer of affection. Now, after finally putting your pride aside, you were happy. It took years, but you finally content by his side. It was so long ago know that you couldn't even really remember how you came across him. All your remember is rain, and that is all you could begin to remember before the memories fell apart like ash.
You begin to make your way to your husband, pushing aside the laundry drying along the washing line. The sun beamed down with kindness, bringing a subtle warmth across your skin.
You stopped a few metres away from him, watching as he jumped out of his pick up truck, a wide smile on his face at the sight of you.
"Well good afternoon to you pumpkin, how you feeling? That boy of mine not giving you trouble?" he greeted, turning to the tray of the truck, grabbing from it a large wooden log. He huffs as the weight of the log pushes against his shoulder.
"I'm feeling fine" you laugh, it was a game of yours to count how many times in one day he asked how you were feeling. This was his 10th ask of the day.
"We don't if its a boy yet. Could be a girl" you offer with a smirk. He was convinced it was a boy.
"Nope" he states as he walks towards the work shed, you follow behind him, begging for attention. Ever since the barn, you've been so desperate for affection.
"In the last five generations of my family, there hasn't been one girl born" he drops the log down in the dirt next to his wood working station. You pout, wondering how that is even possible and also wondering why he had a massive log to begin with.
"what's the log for?" you ask.
He turns back to you with a lazy smile, wiping sweat from his brow and he takes his hat off.
"A crib" he beams. Delight dancing in his eyes.
"Oh, that makes sense" you mutter. Your eyes begin to slowly blink in exhaustion. Carrying a baby isn't easy.
" Come on pumpkin, lets get you to bed" he drawls, grasping your hand with a gentle touch. So very different from how he used to touch you when you first arrived.
You nod lazily, still surprised with how quickly sleep comes to you these days.
"That boy of ours sure likes to cause trouble huh? He's gonna just be like his daddy, although I'm hoping he's gonna look like you sweetheart." he muses, a hand coming down to trace your belly as you walk.
The farmer smiles once more. Everything he ever wanted he has. A beautiful wife, the perfect family and more hopefuly to come after this one. He chides himself for the years spent alone, angry at the world and himself. That whole time he could have had this, a place within a family. But he wouldn't change anything, not the timing or the place. You came to him at the perfect time, you were everything he ever could have wanted and more.
He thanks himself for having the courage to take what he saw as his.
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basiccortez · 1 year
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Forehead Kisses - R. Wheeler
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pairing: Rip Wheeler x Dutton!Female genre: fluffy:) warnings: slight spoiler for season 4, but that's it. A/N: this is my first Yellowstone fic! So please, be nice to me I'm sensitive. Also, requests are open:) send 'em on in
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Rip could tell from the jump that you were going to have a bad day. For one, you slept horrible. Every single toss and turn had him looking over at you. Rip was a light sleeper, which was both a blessing and a curse. He had tried to help you get to sleep by cuddling you, but you ended up just pushing him away.
Two, it was an overcast day. You loved the sun and hated the rain. Which was funny since you were a farmer's daughter, and farmers loved the rain. But you had told Rip once that the rain makes you sad and your joints hurt.
And three, Ryan just had to point out your sour mood. The second the words left his lips, Rip was closing his eyes and saying a quick prayer for the ranch hand. If there was one thing Rip had learned of the years working for the Duttons, it was to not piss off a Dutton Woman. You looked like you could kill Ryan with a look, and Rip was waiting for you to tear into him. But instead, he watched as your eyes clouded with tears and you turned on your heel to storm into the house.
"Oh shit," Rip said, and pushed off the railing of the pin.
"What did I do!?" Ryan asked.
"Better pray she doesn't tell her daddy and you have a job by the end of the day!" Rip yelled at him, before going into the house. Rip immediately went down the hallway towards your dad's office. You were the youngest girl of the family, and the princess. Anything you said or wanted, you got. If you told John that Ryan made you cry, Ryan's ass would be on the next ride out of here.
Instead, Rip's brown eyes landed on the bathroom door that was shut. He sighed, and wiggled the door handle, finding it locked.
"Sweetheart? You in there?" Rip asked, knocking on the door.
"Go away," You sniffled.
"Now you know I can't do that," Rip leaned against the door frame, "Against God's rules to leave a girl when she's crying."
"To hell with God."
"Well that's a sentence I never thought would leave your mouth. Now c'mon, honey, open the door." Rip heard the door unlock, but it never opened. You were also the most stubborn Dutton, getting that gene right from your father. Rip couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head as he opened the door. You were sitting on the closed toilet seat, tears still streaming down your face. The sight was enough to break Rip's cold heart.
"Oh sweetheart," Rip said, shutting the door behind him, "What's the matter?"
"I don't know," You cried and dabbed at the tears under your eyes, "I just feel like crying."
Rip kneeled down in front of you, and grabbed your hands, "This this has to do with the election?" The whole family had been on pins and needles since John announced he was going to run for governor. It was only a matter of time until someone in the family broke from the stress.
"Probably," You sniffled, "I don't know. I'm sorry, I'm such a mess."
"You're fine, sweetheart," Rip wiped a tear from your cheek, "It's okay. Tell you what, I'll take the day and we can head back to the cabin. I trust that Ryan can do something right and get today's chores done."
"You sure?"
"Of course," Rip said and leaned forward and placed a kiss on your forehead, "Now quit your tears, you're too pretty to be crying."
You smiled and wiped a tear, "You like it when I cry."
"Yeah, usually from me fucking you senseless, not when Ryan opens his dumbass mouth," A shiver ran through your body as flashbacks of your intimate moments with Rip filled your mind. You grabbed the collars of his shirt and brought him in for a passionate kiss. You pulled back and pecked his lips.
"Hurry, please," You said, against them.
"Yes ma'am."
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palmtreepalmtree · 3 months
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Alright my friends - the twinkly lights are up, the house smells like pine, you've got every manner of red-green-and-gold wrapping paper shoved in a corner - without a doubt it's that time of year: Christmas. As you know, I've been disappointed to see so few entries into the Christmas rom-com genre this year from Netflix, so I've started to explore further afield to find something ripe for your enjoyment.
And now, I'm pleased to present...
The Worst Movies on HBO/MAX/Discovery+/HGTV??? (idefk), Right Now!
As it turns out sometime last year Discovery+ teamed up with MarVista to produce some Christmas romance content with random tie-ins to their FoodNetwork/HGTV network stars. This has created some really... oh, let's just call it interesting content.
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I mean... you gotta know from the outset that there's no way these will be good. NO fucking WAY.
FIRST, as a whole, I don't think these movies know what their purpose is. Are they supposed to promote the reality shows of their cameo stars? Are they supposed to give their reality stars an opportunity to flex some acting muscle!? Are they supposed to be *GASP* good stories? NOBODY KNOWS!
SECOND, it's possible that the point of these movies is just to promote the reality show format as like... a concept. But the thing is -- NOT TO FORESHADOW OR ANYTHING -- that comes with some very weird baggage. LIKE SUPER WEIRD.
Let's break these down in round-up style.
The first movie that apparently created the mold* was Candy Coated Christmas (2021) - *pun intended. This vehicle cameos Ree Drummond, The Pioneer Woman, who gets about two minutes of screen time which apparently warrants her this kind of promotional one-sheet placement:
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...like okay.
A shocking number of these stories involve people who are in financial peril. In this one, a hotel heiress finds herself on the brink of bankruptcy, and, on daddy's orders, she heads to a small town to evict the peppermint farmer tenants at her family's property who are, you guessed it, on the brink of bankruptcy.
In this movie, the spirit of Christmas (or spearmint gum in this case), is a plan to rescue these two financial catastrophes, oh, and they fall in love. Sure. Why not.
This movie is an empty candy-coated shell of a romance that I can best describe as serviceable. But apparently it was enough of a hit that the rest of the movies followed. So we can blame this candy cane for the Christmas rogering that followed in 2022.
Continuing from worst to most egregious...
A Gingerbread Christmas (2022) - This one cameos that Ace of Cakes dude (no idea his name and not interested in looking it up) who is judging a gingerbread competition that the main character desperately needs to win to save her dead mom's foundering bakery - YES another fucking business in peril.
Her love interest is the general contractor/baker/single dad who has taken up daily residence in the bakery where he is apparently simultaneously working on fixing the place up and also doing all of the baking........?
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Yeah, it makes little sense, and yet somehow this is not the worst of the four entries this year.
Both of these actors are people you'll recognize and will have you thinking heyyyyy where is she/he from? (Let me help you out: The Good Place/Reacher). They're fine.
This is fine.
It's just... not going to leave you feeling much of anything. And that's the exact opposite of what these movies are supposed to do. You're not killing me, you're just boring me. There's nothing spicy in this gingerbread, baby! ZING! Nailed 'em.
There's a kind of nice subplot about a new immigrant entering the contest as well, but maybe I have a soft spot in my heart for that. This definitely does not seem like it's going for the same audience as some of the Hallmark movies, but it's also only gesturing at substantive things rather than really delivering anything of substance. Hey guys, did you know that immigrant Muslims can celebrate Christmas too!?
MOVING ON.....
One Delicious Christmas (2022) - Alright... where do I even start here??? Continuing on our theme of struggling businesses, this one slightly breaks the pattern by telling us a story of the owner of a boutique inn who needs to find a new chef for her family business so that she can bring on a financial partner to help ease the strain of her sole ownership.
The cameo in this one is Bobby Flay who comes in as a restaurant critic to comment on the food. Sigh. I know. Look I'm just reporting here, don't harm the messenger.
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Alright there are three things here that just drove me completely batty: First, and I hate calling this shit out, but I gotta say the lead actress here has some partial vocal fry thing going on with her voice that is just impossible to watch for an hour and a half. I just wanted to shake her and be like BREATHE THROUGH YOUR CHEST. Fucking hell. It's a trial being me sometimes.
Second, obviously the theme here is cooking, but the whole story is based around the fact that the chef is doing new and risky recipes that the inn owner is nervous her people won't like... but like... the recipes are super basic? Like scalloped potatoes instead of mashed? Lobster bisque!? None of the new menu items read as dangerous or cutting edge -- especially if you watch the Food Network -- SO WHAT THE FUCK IS THE POINT1?!? Argh, okay.
Last, and this is just a weird thing that probably only I noticed, but like all these movies seemed to go out of their way to do mixed racial castings, which is a good thing, but then they also seem to have not made any adjustments for that in terms of story.
In this one, the love interest/chef is played by a Canadian actor of Filipino ancestry -- but his character name is Preston Weaver. Preston. PRESTON. PRESTON. There are also repeated references in the story to cooking for and with his grandmother, but no mention, not even one, that maybe her cooking wasn't American-style food? I mean, it is perfectly possible for a person to have their family immigrant story have happened so long ago, that even their grandparent doesn't make traditional foods from their country of ethnic origin, but it also seems WEIRD. Like some sort of weird white washing??? idk. Jury is still out on this I guess. I just don't think it would have killed them to reference one Filipino recipe or technique, especially since that's a pretty rich food culture. You know, as compared with making a main plot point that the fucking LOBSTER BISQUE keeps selling out.
(Is there a whiter word than bisque? I don't fucking think so).
I HAVE GONE ON TOO LONG. THE NEXT ONE.
Designing Christmas (2022) - Alright, I'm running out of steam and so I'm gonna make this one quick. This one cameos that dark haired lady from Love it or List it not sure her name not looking it up (Hilary???). This one is about a couple who work as a designer/contractor pair on a reality show and in order to save their failing show they decide their last show of the season will be a restoration of her family's old home that she just purchased and SURPRISE TO NO ONE WHO WATCHES THESE SHOWS there's a crack in the foundation blahblahblah WHO CARES!?
NO ONE.
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This one really suffers from the fact that the male lead is just boring.
Honestly, that's a theme throughout these movies. The male leads are super weak and boring. Tepid. Just absolutely forgettable characters played by actors who are deciding whether the fuck to fire their agents.
What's weird about this one is the way that the production really styles it after a reality show -- even including those restoration classic before and after reveals. But that is nothing on the last one......
A Christmas Open House (2022) -- Alright the cameos in this one are that Hometown Whatever couple who have been "restoring" houses in their hometown in someplace in the south and by restoring, I mean flipping but under the guise of home restoration.
ANYHOW - the plot is that this big city house stager teams up with a realtor to sell her family home to make sure her mom gets the best purchase price on the sale. It's just like those old Christmas classics that really capture the Christmas spirit - A Christmas Carol, Miracle on 34th Street, It's a Wonderful Life. You know. Really in that anti-capitalist vein.
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Deeeeeeeep sigh.
So... I don't even know how to say this. But this movie involves a Christmas miracle.
See, it turns out the house stager accidentally gave the furniture company the wrong credit card number, so the day before the showing ON CHRISTMAS the furniture people came and took back all of the perfectly staged furniture and GASP knocked down the (fake) Christmas tree! WHAT ARE THEY GONNA DO1?!? HOW ARE THEY EVER GONNA SELL THE HOUSE ON CHRISTMAS NOW!?$!
BUT IT'S A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE
The whole town shows up to bring them furniture that they can use to stage the house before the potential buyers arrive. Like... they show up with their odds and ends so that the house can be staged. SO THAT THE HOUSE CAN BE STAGED FOR SALE. Are... are you guys with me here? The miracle that the whole town rallied behind was bringing FURNITURE to STAGE A HOUSE. FOR SALE.
I just... I am walking away.
We are so fucking far from Dickens here we might as well be in a new fucking holiday.
And we are.
Because that's the whole point of all of these movies.
It's not Christmas.
It's American Christmas.
For all the shit that the nostalgic, small-town worshipping Christmas movies get this time of year, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say these movies are more insidious. Instead of blatantly trying to valorize the small town spirit, the support of family and friends, and getting back to your roots, these movies are like the Scooby Doo villain of Christmas movies. Rip off the mask at the end for the big reveal:
IT WAS CAPITALISM ALL ALONG!?!?
Anyhow, I don't know who was supposed to read these scripts before they became movies, but everyone involved will probably be laughing all the way to the bank.
Don't watch these. They're not funny enough to be worth the soul-gutting feeling of realizing what these movies are for.
Nothing.
Empty.
Spiritless.
Candy-coated capitalism.
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allbark-no-bite · 1 year
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Meet Me In the Middle || Elvis Presley x reader
summary: it is all too easy to give and take when the lines of platonic love become blurred. or in which you’ll alway be Elvis’ little girl
warnings: 18+, sexual content, mentions of blood, loss of virginity, the usual swearing
word count: 5k
author’s note: low key I’m really proud of this one. thank you all for the love and support i received on my last fic <33 i literally have so many elvis ideas but not enough time to write them. would y’all want some shorter fics too?
Summer was sharing sweet orange slices from the farmers market and the sticky juice that trailed down our arms. Summer was playing tag in the front yard, tousling like rabbits in the the green grass. Summer was late nights spent listening to records together on my full sized bed.
Summer was Elvis. Until it wasn't.
One late night in 1957, summer became the three month notice of a court ordered draft. Summer became the worst three months of my entire life.
"You're not actually gonna go though, right, El?" I'm standing at the bottom of the stair case, feet cemented to the last step as I wait for his reply.
Elvis and his mama and daddy all look up at me from where they're gathered in the living room. He drops the hand holding the paper to his side, as if hiding it from my sight would erase it from my mind. Uncomfortably, he clears his throat.
I swivel my head, looking from his mama and then back to Elvis. No one moves to speak, and I break the building tension again as I realize what their silence means. "Elvis!"
He sighs, lifting his hand to rub his brow. "I've got to go, darlin’. I can't—"
I stomp my foot against the wooden staircase and it makes a loud thud that echos through the house. "Tell them you can't! You can't go—you can't leave us!"
Obviously becoming frustrated, Elvis takes a few steps towards the stairwell, waving his draft notice at me. "I've got no choice, alright? It's that or they fucking arrest me!"
"UGH!" I screech, turning on my heels and stomping up the stairs. It's childish of me but had I stayed planted there any longer, the tears burning in the back of my eyes would have made their appearance, and I don’t want him to see me cry.
Elvis shouts after me. "C'mon, really, [y/n]? You're gonna cry? Get back down here!"
I stomp louder, ignoring him, and storm into my room. I slam the door once I'm inside. Elvis hated it when I slammed doors. Once I reach my bed, I rip the sheets off of it and then clamp them shut around me. Only then do I allow the burning tears to start down my face.
Germany. He was going to Germany. Out of the millions of people in the world, what were the odds that they pulled his name. Apparently pretty damn good. What was he thinking? Elvis couldn't fight in a war. Surely the Colonel would have something to say about this. As much as I hated my stepdad, I was certain this was something we could agree on.
My mama had married young. It was a fairytale story in which she'd fallen madly in love with my daddy her senior year of high school and dropped out to marry him then and there. My daddy had been dealt a good set of cards by his own father and was a very successful lawyer down in New Orleans. He died of a heart attack when I was five, leaving my momma his entire inheritance. A few years later, she married a Mr. Colonel Tom Parker. My momma was beautiful, but he had married her for the money. He proved my point by divorcing her two years later, leaving me stuck between two homes.
I loathed the summers that I would be sent to spend with my stepdad. He'd never done ill to me, but again I had little reason to like him either. He tolerated me for three months of the year as his form of child support, and I spent weeks dreading following him and his little circus act around for the sake of 'show business'. That was until I met his up and coming act Elvis Presley.
Once Elvis blew up, the Colonel finally set aside his circus life and moved us to Graceland to focus on the young star full time. Suddenly, I found myself looking forward to leaving behind my mother's beautiful Louisiana estate and spending more and more time in Memphis, Tennessee.
But if I had ever learned anything about my stepfather, it was that he would do anything for the sake of business. Which is why instead of shutting down Elvis' ridiculous notion that he was going to enlist in the army, he encouraged it, hoping to make him some sort of all American hero or whatever he called it.
We throw Elvis a going away party the night before he ships off for Germany. I refuse to attend, spending the evening moping in my bedroom. The happy chatter and music coming from downstairs only serve to worsen my mood.
I wish everyone would just go home so I could sulk in peace.
I kick off the shoes I had worn for the evening and sit with my legs crossed a top my bed. A tattered flannel dog sits where I had left it on my pillow last night, and I pick it up, realizing I had forgotten to put it away.
Elvis had given me the plush dog at the end of the first summer I spent at Graceland. Something to remember him by back home, he had said. For a long time, I never went anywhere without it. But I'd eventually forgotten about the dog and didn't touch it for years. I'd started carrying it around again now that he was leaving.
Knuckles rap softly at my door, but before I can even stand up to answer it, Elvis is pushing the door open and stepping hesitantly into my bedroom.
I glare at him, dropping the flannel stuffed animal to the ground. "I didn't say you could come in."
He ignores my harsh rebuke and crouches down to retrieve the stuffed dog. Methodically, as if lost in a memory, he turns the plush toy over in his hands. I watch as his fingers muse with the soft flannel of the dog's ear. Standing up, he slowly walks towards the bed. "I don't wanna fight tonight."
I turn my head. Between his freshly cut hair and crisp uniform, it's all too much.
The bed dips underneath me, and Elvis places the toy in my lap. "I haven't seen this thing in a while," he comments, prompting me in a futile attempt to get me to talk.
I just shrug, still not looking directly at him. Because I can't tell him that I haven't slept without the stupid plush dog in months now. Can't tell him that because I don't want him to think I'm just some dumb little kid.
"C'mon," Elvis persists, a playful tone to his voice as he nudges his elbow into my side. "Don't go tellin' me you're too grown for that kinda stuff now, lil’ girl."
I set the dog off of my lap, as if wanting to remove it from view and out of the conversation.
"I'll be too grown by the time you're comin' home. Turnin' eighteen next year," I point out bitterly, reminding him that he's missing my birthday.
Elvis is quiet for a moment. "Eighteen don't mean all that much," he finally says. "You'll still be my lil’ girl."
His little girl. His dumb kid sister. It's all just the same, I think. That is all he will ever think of me.
I'd been counting down the days until I turned eighteen, waiting for that growth spurt, waiting for puberty to hit, waiting for the day that I could shake him awake and say, Look. Look at how much I've changed. I'm not your kid sister anymore. I don't want to be your kid sister anymore.
I'd always been his 'lil’ girl'. And for a long time that had been okay. I was fourteen when I permanently moved into Graceland. We were practically raised together. We were best friends and fought like brother and sister. But now that I was older, it was hard to see him like that anymore. He was still my best friend in the entire world, but I'd grown, and I understood a lot more than I did when I was fourteen. I noticed the sharpness of his face now, the childlike roundness gone. I noticed the new fullness of his body and how it balanced out his once lanky frame.
He'd become a man without me realizing it, and I desperately didn't want to be his little sister anymore. But now that he was leaving, none of it mattered. I'd grow up without him there to see it, and he'd move on, find some nice girl in Germany.
Elvis tilts his head, trying to smile at me, his soft pink lips pressed together. "I'll throw you a big party when I get back, yeah? Mama'll make you a cake, and we'll sing 'happy birthday' even if it's the middle of June."
I bite my lip and laugh, thinking about how ridiculous it would be because I know that he's being serious.
God, I'm gonna miss him.
"Two years isn't so long," my voice cracks, and I laugh through the sob as I finally turn towards him. "Right?"
Elvis smiles. "I'll be back before you know it."
The day Elvis came back was a cold day in Memphis, Tennessee. The warm weather of budding summer had yet to come, leaving us all bundled up in heavy coats as we waited amongst crowds and crowds of people at the train station. But then again, summers had never been quite the same since Elvis left two years ago.
Gladys held onto my elbow beside me, and I would point out in the direction of each new train that appeared. To my left was my boyfriend of six months. We had met due to some mutual friends and hit it off pretty quickly. He was no Elvis, and so I had been hesitant at first, but he was persistent in asking me out for weeks. I had finally relented, and he surprised me. He was good to me.
"Oh look!" Gladys exclaimed, patting my hand and drawing my attention back to the tracks. "That's him!"
A black train engine approached us, slowing down as it neared and stopped at the station in a whoosh of steam. After a bustle of excitement at the side of the loading dock, I caught a glimpse of his dark black hair. With the help of the conductor and a couple police officers, Elvis began to push his way through the crowd.
He greeted him mama first, hugged her tightly and unabashedly let her kiss his cheeks as he stooped to reach her. He'd grown a lot in two years. Next was his daddy, who's hand he shook firmly and then leaned in, clapping him on the back.
When he got to me, he hugged me like a big brother would do, slinging a heavy arm around my shoulders and drawing me into his side to place a smooched kiss to the top of my head. And then when he pulled away and caught sight of my boyfriend standing at my side, he hardened his blue eyes and squared his shoulders in that same big brotherly fashion, stiffly holding his hand out to shake. If he was angry with me—as he should have been—he didn't show it. I hadn't told him about my boyfriend, but I assumed Gladys had let him on about it.
Moving on after an awkwardly stiff handshake, Elvis greeted the Colonel as well as Sonny and Jerry, and then gathered his things. We went home and life went back normal, exactly as it was before Elvis had left. Everything went back to how it was. We laughed and joked and quarreled as we did before he left, and pretended to ignore the problem the presence of my boyfriend proposed.
For most, Elvis and I’d closeness would have likely torn apart any romantic relationships. We were too comfortable with each other to just be friends, and yet that’s what we where. That’s what we had to be. We took what we could get.
What I would have done had I not stumbled into the wall, likely waking up the entire house and causing Elvis to stick his head out of his bedroom door, I honestly don't know. I wouldn't have called him, I think to myself, because brothers aren't supposed to know that their little sister's in bed with a boy. But he's not my brother, and I don't have a choice because before the words leave my mouth, he's pulling me into his bedroom, shielding me from everything except for the view of his wide shoulders that are wedged between the doorframe.
My legs are shaking. My entire body is shaking. I'm lightheaded from crying and my chest burns from all the hyperventilating I was doing moments before. The insides of my legs tingle, and I realize it's because liquid is dripping down them. I don't want to know what color it is. Neither is good, I think.
Out in the hall, I can hear footsteps muffled against the carpeted floor. "[y/n] run off in there?"
Elvis steps further out of the door, still using his body to block me from view. "She got a reason to be runnin'?" His voice is dangerously monotone.
I hear the other voice scoff. He must be standing out in the hall, a safe distance from Elvis. "Look, I didn't do nothin' she didn't ask for."
Elvis looks back at me from over his shoulder, taking in my current state under his gaze. My face burns with shame and humiliation.
His eyeliner black eyes are steely, almost murderously calm. It's the look of someone who's about to kill a man. I know that he notices my lack of shorts and half unbuttoned night shirt because it's his. Stolen from Elvis long ago, it's just long enough to cover the curve of my ass and enough to hide the fact that I'm not even wearing panties. And maybe that is why he doesn't kill the boy on the other side of the door then and there.
"Get out of my goddamn house."
"I didn't—"
"Get out before I break your fucking face in," he snarls.
The noise is enough to stir Jerry, who pokes his head up the stairwell. Ever the peacekeeper, I hear his mellow voice float down the hall. "EP? Everything okay?"
Never breaking eye contact with the boy, Elvis' voice has returned to the chillingly quiet tone. "Get to stepping, pal," he growls. I can picture his face, white teeth bared into a menacing snarl like one of those dogs who's yard the postman stays away from.
There is a heavy pause in the conversation and then I hear loud footsteps descending the stairs. The front door slams shut.
The moment he retreats from the door, I'm clinging to him, grabbing at his soft satin shirt and hiccuping into his chest. His palm cradles the back of my head, hugging me into his body. His presence is comforting enough to stop my trembling, but when he pulls me away from his chest, another sob escapes my mouth.
"Please, you can't tell the Colonel, El." I reach for him again, just wanting to be held.
He holds my shoulder at arms length, worried blue eyes taking me in. "What happened, lil’ girl?"
Another sob rakes through my chest, tearing at my raw lungs and choking up my throat. My hand grabs at his shirt, desperate to hold on to him. "I thought I was ready. I really did." I'm swallowing spit as I talk, still trying to breathe and cry at the same time. "And then I couldn't— He wouldn't—"
Elvis' jaw hardens and he lets me push myself into his chest again, hushing my cries. "Okay, okay. It's okay, darlin'."
I hiccup into his shirt, pressing my cheek to his chest. The heavy thrum of his heart pounds against my ear. He's still breathing hard, holding me securely against him. "El, You can't—"
"I ain't gonna tell no one, lil’ girl, alright?" Elvis states firmly, as if to put my worries to an end once and for all.
"Hey." Elvis takes half a step backwards, doing his best to detach me from his body. I let out another halfhearted sob again, my eyes blurry and red from crying. "Hey—now, enough of that. Let's clean you up." His tone is firmer than I would have expected, but it works enough to sober me up.
I nod, emitting one last hiccup and dragging the backs of my hands over my eyes.
Walking into his bathroom, Elvis sits me down on the closed toilet seat and after running a wash rag under the warm sink water, crouches in front of me. Suddenly I'm in grade school again, waiting for him to clean my scraped knee because I never did know what was good for me.
"Gonna clean you up, 'kay, darlin'?" His tender blue eyes hold mine.
The wet clothe drips onto the ground and his finger tips ghost up my thigh, brushing aside the shirt bundled at my waist. I see his hands tremble, and he swallows as his eyes take in my bareness. He's realizing I'm not wearing panties. Elvis sniffs and squeezes my knee with one hand. Wordlessly, he brings the wash clothe softly between my thighs.
I twitch slightly at the sensation, wanting to mewl and push his hand away, but I remain still as he works. He won't look up at me as he tenderly drags the clothe between my legs, focused on ridding me of every memory of tonight.
It's a terribly strange experience, having someone who is so close to you care for you in such a compromising position. And yet there's a mutual understanding there that says, 'this is okay with me so long as it's okay with you'.
Finally, the feel of the clothe disappears, but Elvis remains crouched, his head between my knees. He's so close that I feel his breath on me.
I imagine his nose brushing my bare cunt.
The problem was that I was exactly the kind of pretty that he picked out in girls every weekend and sought out after shows, and we both knew it.
The problem was that I was his little girl who's boyfriends he ran off and runny nose he wiped.
He sighs and kisses the inside of each of my knees. "C'mon. Let's get you in the shower, lil’ girl." He sits back on his heels and stands up, tossing the red stained rag into the bin.
I watch from the toilet seat as he turns on the water for the shower that he doesn't even like. Elvis had a preference for baths and I knew because he alway requested a room with one wherever he stayed. The only reason he had a shower at Graceland was because it was easier to have sex in.
I knew this because I'd asked him one day as I laid sprawled across his mattress, flipping through a magazine. He was in the shower at the time, the door half ajar as he had left it, the steam of the shower spilling through the crack. His girlfriend had just left and he'd run upstairs, tossing his shirt on me as he went. He'd nearly had his jeans off before he even slipped through the bathroom door, and I'd caught a glimpse of his blue boxers.
A while after, as I listened to the spray of the water against the tiles, I'd asked him then and there, why he'd taken the room with the shower and given the other to Jerry.
"What?" he had asked distractedly, his voice raised so that I could hear him.
"How come you got a shower when you don't even like 'em?"
The spray of the shower head cut off and I could hear him moving around in the bathroom. Through the crack of the door, I could see his reflection in the mirror as he preened at his wet ebony hair.
"Just easier I recon. When you have a girl over, I mean."
Elvis was nearing the cusp of twenty himself and so the topic of sex was not new nor uncomfortable to him. Besides, I was just his kid sister.
I was sixteen at the time and had no real concept of what it meant to me when he brought girls over. I guess I knew that he never grew especially attached to any specific one, and they went out of his life just as quickly as they had come.
"Oh," was all that I had said afterwards, watching him as he walked out of the bathroom, his face flushed red, towel bunched in his hand. Instead of using it to dry off his hair, he tossed it into the laundry bin and grabbed a fresh one.
"Water's probably hot enough—," Elvis says, drawing me from my thoughts.
I tug at the rumpled collar of my—his—night shirt. "Will you..." I swallow away the knot in my throat. "Will you get in with me? I don't wanna..."
No. He's supposed to say no because someone's got to draw the line somewhere. We aren't kids anymore, no matter how desperately we both cling to the idea.
He pauses. "Yeah, sure, sweet thing."
I pull off the silky night shirt without a second thought. It was just Elvis and he'd probably seen me nearly naked a thousand times before. I can see him in the reflection of the mirror behind me, sliding off his own clothes and trying to avoid looking over in my direction. His is cock hard against his stomach.
"Go on," he says, ushering me into the shower, as though intent on pretending his body wasn't responding acutely to the situation. Elvis follows me in, his large frame taking up the bulk of the space.
Tangles of my wet hair falls in cascades down my shoulder. I let the stream pelt into my face, opening my mouth only to breathe and spitting out the water that enters. Rust tinged water swirls down the drain after running down my legs. A hiccup shakes my shoulders and more water flows into my mouth. I hadn't realized I was still crying.
Elvis' arms pull me into his chest, resting just under my breasts, and one hand slides up my throat, tipping my chin up so that I can breathe. "Hey." His bare skin feels foreign against my back. Forbidden in a sense. "Enough of that. Breathe, lil’ girl."
My head falls back limply against his shoulder, and I allow my eyes to close. The steady weight of Elvis' chin comes to rest in the joint of my neck and shoulder as he holds me close. One of his thumbs strokes the swell of my breast, just barley ghosting the bud of my nipple. Even in the hot shower, the action makes me shiver.
"I should have run him off after dinner. Shouldn't have boys around the house this late," he whispers softly.
"I'm grown now, Elvis," I remind him weakly. "I can do what I what."
"And you wanted him?"
I can feel the girth of his arousal against my back. He emits a small huff each time I move. Elvis runs a hand down my body, not stopping until his large fingers are splayed across the expanse of my stomach. His other hand still tweaks at my nipple, cupping the fullness of my breast in his palm.
It feels good enough to make my body feel like putty in his hands. I'd let those hands do anything to me.
"You know, you were the first boy to break my heart?" I say instead.
Elvis sighs heavily against my body, his fingers dig into the soft flesh of my belly. "You were too little, and I was grown," he says in his own way of answering me.
"And now?"
His hand slips from my stomach to slide around the curve of my ass, and he tips his head up to press his nose into my wet hair. "God, I hate the thought that his hands were on you. That he touched you."
I feel his puffy pink lips hover above the tender skin of my neck, his breath hot against my skin. His nose skims the shell of my ear, and he kisses the joint between my neck and shoulder. Elvis's hand travels back around my body, sinking lower lower, until his forefingers just barely ghost my bareness. I whimper as my sensitive cunt clenches around emptiness.
Elvis' mouth is hot against my ear. "Do you trust me?"
There are still faint smudges of dark mascara under my eyes, and I've only just stopped all the ragged, unsteady breathing. I’m still aching and tender. I think about how I didn't think twice about running into his arms, even if I was too ashamed to call for him myself. I'd trust him with my life.
I nod.
"Words. I need words."
I swallow, pressing my nose to the column of his throat. "I've always trusted you."
There's no tension between us as he rubs his fingers against my cunt, tenderly exploring the heat of me. There's no hurry as his fingers prod at my opening, feeling the tightness and resistance of my body. I reflexively push my hips into his hand when his thumb passes over my clit, sending jolts up my spine. The hand holding my body against him tightens, pulling me back into his chest, and he draws his hand away. His fingers spread and my arousal, tinged with red, clings between them. The spray of water slowly washes the color away.
I can feel his silent anger in every breath, how it stalls and then releases. It's evident in the way his body moves around me. "He didn't do nothin' wrong," I whisper timidly. "Just—it was too late by the time I realized I didn't want it to be him."
Elvis stills behind me, and his hand comes up to crane my chin around to look at him. His hooded blue eyes are questioning. "He didn't—"
I sniff embarrassedly, a broken huff of a laugh coming out of my mouth. "Pop my cherry? Not necessarily."
As if soaking in my words, Elvis observes my face, thumbing my bottom lip thoughtfully. Then he dips his head down, capturing my lips with his. His mouth is hot and he licks into my mouth. For a moment, I'm painfully conscious of my youth and the years of experience that he has on me. It's obvious that he's done this before, kissed a lot of girls before me. However, I could get drunk on his taste alone, and I go with it, building confidence as he groans into my mouth.
"Want you to do it, El." His large hands feel up and down my body, and he groans again.
"Yeah?" he asks breathily.
"Yeah."
I nearly stumble as he moves us together as one unit, and my back hits the cold wall of the shower. His body is on mine immediately, and I chase his lips, desperate to taste him again. Our mouths connect, consuming each other, savoring the taste.
A gasp escapes my mouth at the sensation of his fingers prodding at my entrance, but he swallows it, pushing in one finger and then adding another. It's uncomfortable at first, and I squirm at the stretch, but then he's curling his fingers and petting at my velvet walls and my vision swims. My eyes must literally roll into the back of my head because he laughs at me.
"That feel good, lil’ girl?" Elvis hums.
It does but it's not what I want.
My attention goes back to his cock, which still sprung alertly against his abdomen, except now it's a flushed red. The head engorged and swollen, begs to be touched, and when I do, it's Elvis' turn for his eyes to roll into the back of his head. I don't know what I'm doing, and he must realize that because he slides his fingers out of me and cradles my jaw, his other hand wrapping around my fist. With his large hand over mine, Elvis drags my hand rhythmically over his cock. I take a guess and drag my thumb over the tip. His hips buck into my fist.
"So good, sweet girl," he rasps in that throaty southern drawl. After stroking himself a while longer, Elvis pulls my hand away from his cock and instead interlocks our fingers above my head.
His eyes find mine, panting heavily in the sliver of space between us.  "I'll be gentle," he promises, and then he's pushing in, the head of his cock pressing deep inside me.
With the slick of my arousal, the stretch is bearable, and quickly turns in to pleasure when he rocks his hips slowly into me. I can feel him hot and full within me. His second thrust is more fluid than the last one, pulling out and then sliding back in one motion. Above my head, my hand squeezes his and he reciprocates the gesture. I keen into his shoulder, biting down each time he drags deliciously in and out of me.
"Doin' so good for me," Elvis praises, kissing my cheeks and neck and lips over and over again. His next thrust has my stomach coiling, bubbling with hot pleasure. When he leans in to kiss me once more, he capture my bottom lip between his teeth and then releases it, leaning in again to kiss the swollen flesh.
"El—" I can hardly utter a coherent sentence. "I'm—" I can feel myself slipping, my mind fogging up.
"It's okay, I've got you. Let go, lil' girl. You can let go."
It feels like a rubber band pops in my stomach, and I moan, clenching around him as I come. Soon Elvis is releasing inside of me as well, claiming my walls with his seed. When he pulls out, I whine at the feeling of emptiness.
Elvis is still pressed into me, as if our bodies have become one entity. His release runs down my legs and pools on the tiles of the shower. Exhausted, I collapse into him. We’re both spent, chests heaving, legs shaking.
He laughs, pecking my swollen lips. "Looks like you need another shower."
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