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stylesispunk · 3 days

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'I love you, it's ruining my life' | Part iv.

Joel Miller x f!reader

previous chapter

Summary: You and Joel have your happy ending. w.c: 6,7k>

warnings: smut (sorry I'm not the best at writing smut), fluff, angst. time jump. Perhaps grammar mistakes because I didn't check grammar. Not the best piece of writing but now my mind is wandering on another story.

a/n: Part 4 and last one is here! Thank you so much for all the love you gave to this one, I'm really happy you loved it despite the messy writing. I may write for these two to clarify some things, or some details of their lives after this ending. If you have a suggestion, question, or want to talk to me, you can come to my dms or ask! Happy reading 💌 dividers by @/saradika-graphics

"I promise, I'll do everything I can to make this right," he said softly, his thumbs gently caressing your cheek.

You nodded, a tear escaping down your cheek as you smiled up at him. "I believe you, Joel. And I want to try too. I want us to be together.

He pulled you into another embrace, his arms wrapping around you securely. "We will," he whispered into your hair. "We'll take it one day at a time, but we'll do it together."

For a while, you simply held each other, finding solace in the closeness. Eventually, you led Joel to the couch, where you both sat down, still reluctant to let go.

"I've missed you so much," you admitted, leaning to kiss his cheek. "Every day felt incomplete without you."

"I missed you too," he replied, his voice tender. "Every day I thought about you, regretting the decisions I made that pushed you away." Joel smiled—a genuine, heartfelt smile that made your heart swell. "Agreed," he said. "We'll make it right this time." He said, capturing your lips with a feverish kiss.

As Joel's lips met yours in a feverish kiss, a rush of emotions swept over you. It was a kiss filled with longing, passion, and the promise of a new beginning. In that moment, all the pain and heartache of the past seemed to fade away, replaced by the warmth and intensity of Joel's love.

You melted into the kiss, savoring the feeling of his lips against yours and the taste of his love filling your senses. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, conveying a silent vow to make things right and to never let go of each other again.

As you pulled away, breathless and flushed with emotion, you looked into Joel's eyes and saw a reflection of your own feelings mirrored back at you. He clutched your hips and pushed you against the door, shutting your mouth with his own for a hungrier kiss as if he wanted to devour you right here. Your fingers tangled into his dark locks, and he seemed to enjoy it because he released a heavy groan into your mouth, and you drank all those heavenly sounds with pleasure.

“I’m just gonna eat you,” he said, laughing, biting your bottom lip as you laughed lowly.

“That’s what I’m waiting for” you replied.

Both of you were out of breath as he cupped your face and brushed his thumbs against your cheeks like he was the most delicate thing he’d ever held.

Everything happened so quickly that neither of you realized how you'd gotten rid of your clothes, but you missed each other too much to even consider how this might have happened. He held you up against the wall, both of your legs wrapped around his waist so he could thrust fast into you while biting onto your collarbone. you were now moaning. Your head tossed back, and your nails left clear lines of red on his bare back, but this only fueled him, allowing him to pound his hips with greater urgency.

His hands were strong, but his touch was gentle. It was all over you including her face, chest, heart, and mind fantasies.

He was everywhere. You were battling to breathe while simultaneously feeling extremely lively. His fingertips touched your hot flesh, grazing with flames. Even as you burned, you clung to him like he was your lifeline.

He grasped your waist and continued to rock into you. The sound of your name slipped through his lips, mingled in with the groans and nasty words that made your cheeks flush and your eyes roll in delight. But in between the passion and filth, he expressed how much he loved and missed you.

You tried not to pay attention to those words as you tossed your head back, gasping for air, feeling your climax grow so close that your body began shaking against his. Your thoughts quickly went blank, and your toes curled as you shouted out his name, feeling his release not long after you ended. His thrust became sluggish and slow. It wasn't until he stopped that you fell back into reality.

He kissed the corner of your lips tenderly once you both had regained your breathing pace. He opened his eyes to yours. The gentleness of those brown eyes left a lump in your throat as he walked you over to your bedroom to lay you down on your bed.

“I love you so fucking much.”

Those words came again. He sounded out of breath when he spoke, and the raspiness of his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

“I love you,” he mumbled again, this time crashing his lips with yours for what felt like a thousandth time. You then lifted your leg to his hips as you reached down to take him in your palm, and that sudden movement made his breath hitch.

He closed his eyes and buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, as if it could serve as a reminder that you were now each other's half.

He began caressing your breasts while inhaling fiercely into your exposed shoulder, dragging his hands down your hips to your stomach. You scorched your back, moaning his name, and he felt like he was going insane at the sight of you under his gaze, like this. His body between your legs offered him easier access to the image he wanted to keep in his thoughts every day.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt his finger go down your body to the spot you wanted him the most. You were soaked, and he lost control of the sensation of you gripping around his digits. He attached your lips, groaning into the kiss, and began pumping his fingers, gradually increasing the pace as well. You had your hand behind his neck, panting for air but maintaining eye contact, watching him go insane at the sight of you.

"Joel, I…"

"I know baby… I know…" He breathed into your mouth and pulled out his fingers, causing you to gasp at the loss of his touch. In a short second, he managed to go down and kiss every single inch of kissing every inch of your body, till he reached your tights and placed his tongue on your core. You moaned loudly, arching your back and slowly moving your hips into Joel's tongue.

The bedroom swiftly became crowded with your moans and Joel's tongue lapping at your drenched pussy. He groaned beneath you.

Your fingers grasped his hair locks

"Good girl," he replied.

"Fuck! I'm.." You stuttered. He accelerated his rhythm and sucked as if it were his favorite thing in the world.

Soon after, you came. He licked you clean before slowly licking his way back up your body. Until your lips met in a wet kiss.

"You're my favorite person," he replied, a satisfied smile falling off his lips. He lay next to you in bed, and you both glanced at each other.

"Let's do it again sometime?" You made a joke.

"Why not now?" He asked.

You let him kiss you again, and your hands traveled to his neck once again.

Waking up next to Joel felt strange, not for the wrong reasons or the rust that had grown between you after a year of no communication, but because this time you allowed yourself to be his. The vulnerability was both exhilarating and terrifying.

The smell of his cologne lingered on your pillow, a comforting reminder of his presence. You reached out to touch the space where he had been, but the warmth was fading. Fear crept within your body, a gnawing anxiety that whispered, "What if he regretted and left?"

Your heart pounded as you sat up, scanning the room for any sign of him. Panic began to settle in until you heard the faint clinking of dishes from the kitchen. You slid out of bed, the cool floor beneath your feet grounding you as you made your way towards the sound.

In the kitchen, Joel stood by the stove, his back to you, humming softly as he cooked breakfast. Relief washed over you, bringing tears to your eyes. He hadn’t left.

There he was, only in a pair of jeans, in the middle of your kitchen, preparing breakfast for the both of you.

He turned, a smile breaking across his face, when he saw you. "Morning, baby," he said, his voice warm and inviting. "I thought I’d make us some breakfast."

You walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind and resting your cheek against his back. "I was scared you’d gone," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel turned in your arms, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I’m not going anywhere," he said firmly, tilting your chin up to look into your eyes. "I’m here”

Do you think I am a bad person?" You asked, your voice muffled as you hid your face against his neck.

Joel's body stiffened, and he gently pulled back to scan your face, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "Wha—oh my god, what are you talking about?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for understanding.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady the emotions swirling inside you. "I mean, we both did things. Tess, my boyfriend...”

Joel shook his head, his grip on you tightening. "You did nothing wrong," he interrupted firmly, his voice leaving no room for doubt. "We were both trying to navigate a difficult situation, and we made mistakes, but that doesn't make you a bad person."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, his unwavering support and love bringing a sense of relief you hadn't felt in a long time. "I just... I feel so guilty," you admitted, your voice cracking. "For hurting others, for leaving you without a proper goodbye.” You paused for a moment. “I wasted a whole year, Joel.”

Joel’s gaze softened even more, and he pulled you into a tighter embrace. “You didn’t waste anything,” he said, his voice filled with conviction. “We both needed that time to understand what we truly wanted and to realize how much we meant to each other. That year apart was hard, but it brought us here to this moment.”

You sniffled, burying your face in his shoulder. “But it hurts knowing I left like that. I should have stayed and fought for us.”

He gently lifted your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up over it. We both made mistakes. But what matters now is that we’re here, together, and we have the chance to make things right. We can’t change the past, but we can shape our future.”

You nodded, the tears slowing as you felt a sense of peace wash over you. “I want that, Joel. I want to build a future with you.”

Joel smiled, his eyes shining with a mixture of relief and love. “Me too,” he said softly. “And we’ll do it, one step at a time, together.”

You leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss, sealing the promise of a new beginning. As you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath match your own.

“Thank you,” you whispered, the weight of your guilt and fear beginning to lift. “For loving me,” you said, your voice steady and free from the guilt and fear that had once plagued you.

Joel's eyes softened, and his expression filled with warmth and understanding. “Always,” he replied, his voice a gentle promise. “Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

You both stayed silent for a while, savoring the closeness and the unspoken bond that had grown even stronger through your trials. The sun began to rise, casting a soft, golden glow into the room, and with it, a new day began—a day filled with hope and the promise of a love that could weather any storm.

As you nestled closer to Joel, you felt his arms tighten around you protectively. “Can you go back to bed, please?” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

You chuckled. “Why?”

“I actually planned to bring you breakfast in bed, and you kind of ruined my surprise,” he said humorously, a playful glint in his eyes.

A warm, genuine laugh bubbled up from within you. “Oh, did I now? I guess I can pretend to be asleep,” you teased, your smile widening.

Joel grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “That’s the spirit. Now, back under the covers, and no peeking.”

You playfully rolled your eyes but complied, snuggling back into the warm bed. “I’m not peeking, promise,” you called out, feigning a yawn for good measure.

Joel kissed your forehead before slipping out of the room. You lay there, a smile lingering on your lips, feeling a sense of joy and contentment you hadn’t felt in a long time.

A short while later, you heard the sounds of clinking dishes, the faint aroma of coffee, and something delicious wafting from the kitchen. You closed your eyes, savoring the moment, knowing that this was just the beginning of a new chapter for both of you.

Finally, you felt the bed dip slightly as Joel returned, a tray in his hands. “Breakfast is served,” he announced softly.

You opened your eyes to see him setting a tray laden with pancakes, fresh fruit, and coffee on the bed. Your heart swelled with affection as you took in the sight.

“This looks amazing, Joel,” you said, reaching for his hand.

He sat down beside you, a contented smile on his face. “This is only the first breakfast of the million I’ll give to you.”

Three years later, Joel and you were happily married, living a life filled with love, laughter, and countless shared memories. On the morning of Joel's 35th birthday, he woke up around 5 a.m., immediately noticing your absence. The usual warmth of your presence beside him was missing, and concern tugged at his heart.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and listened. The faint sound of retching came from the bathroom. Alarmed, he quickly got out of bed and headed towards the sound. He found you kneeling in front of the toilet, your face pale and sweaty.

"Hey, what's going on?" Joel asked, his voice filled with concern as he kneeled beside you.

You looked up at him with a weak smile, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "Happy birthday," you said softly, trying to inject some cheer into your voice despite feeling miserable.

Joel frowned, his worry deepening.

Joel’s concern didn't waver. “Then can you go back to bed and rest?” he pleaded.

You shook your head. “No, I should start getting ready for work.”

Joel's brow furrowed with worry and frustration. “Can you find a substitute?”

“Sure, at 5 a.m.,” you replied with a weak chuckle.

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Please, just try to rest a little longer. We can figure out work later.”

You nodded, feeling the exhaustion creep over you. “Okay, I’ll lay down for a bit.”

Joel helped you to your feet and guided you back to the bed, tucking you in gently. He kissed your forehead, his worry evident but tempered by the love in his eyes. “I’ll make you some tea,” he said softly.

As you lay back down, you watched Joel move around the room, his concern for you touching your heart. Despite feeling miserable, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for his unwavering support. “Thank you,” you whispered.

Joel turned to you, his eyes softening. “Anything for you,” he replied.

Later that morning, you both woke up to the sound of Sarah yelling from downstairs. “Dad! Breakfast is ready! Come on, it's your birthday!” Her voice carried a mix of excitement and impatience.

Joel stirred beside you, groaning slightly as he rubbed his eyes. “Guess we better get up,” he said, his voice still heavy with sleep.

You bolted upright, suddenly alarmed. “Oh my God, I’m late for work!” You scrambled out of bed, panic setting in as you realized how much time had passed.

Joel reached out, grabbing your arm gently. “Hey, take it easy. You’re not feeling well, remember? Just call in sick today.”

You hesitated, your mind racing with the thought of your responsibilities. But Joel's steady gaze and calming presence made you pause. “I wish I could, but I can’t; I don’t have a substitute.”

Joel sighed, understanding the weight of your responsibilities but still worried about your health. "I know it's tough, but your health is more important right now. You can't take care of others if you're not taking care of yourself."

You bit your lip, torn between your sense of duty and Joel's concern. Finally, you nodded reluctantly. "Okay, I'll call in and explain. Maybe they can find someone to cover for me."

Joel smiled, relieved. "Good. Let's go downstairs and have breakfast with Sarah first, then you can make that call."

You both got out of bed and made your way downstairs, where Sarah was already seated at the table, beaming with pride over the breakfast she had prepared.

"Happy birthday, Dad!" Sarah exclaimed, bouncing in her seat. "I made your favorite!"

The smell of pancakes and bacon filled the air, making you twist and feel nauseous. Before you even realized it, you ran towards the bathroom.

Joel's eyes widened in concern as he watched you bolt towards the bathroom. He quickly turned to Sarah, giving her a reassuring smile. "Hey, sweetie, can you wait here for a minute? I'll be right back."

Sarah nodded, her excitement dampened by worry. "Is she okay? But she loves the pancakes I make."

"She does," Joel said, trying to sound confident. "Just stay here and enjoy breakfast for now, okay?"

He hurried to the bathroom, finding you hunched over the toilet, retching. He kneeled beside you, rubbing your back soothingly. "Hey, it's okay. Just breathe."

You gasped, trying to catch your breath between bouts of nausea. "I'm sorry, Joel. I don’t know what’s wrong with me this morning.”

Joel shook his head, his voice gentle but firm. "Nothing is wrong. Just rest, okay?"

After a few minutes, the nausea subsided, and you leaned back against the cool bathroom tiles, exhausted. Joel handed you a glass of water, and you took a few sips gratefully.

"I really think I wasn’t able to go to school” you admitted, your voice shaky. "But I feel so guilty."

Joel brushed a strand of hair from your face. "Don't. You need to rest and take care of yourself. I'll explain things to Sarah.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing down on you. "Okay.”

Joel helped you to your feet, and you slowly made your way back to the bedroom, where you sat on the edge of the bed while Joel returned to the kitchen to talk to Sarah.

"Hey, kiddo," he said, sitting down beside her. "Mom's not feeling well, so she needs to rest today.”

“I could stay to take care of her, you know?”

“Oh no. You’re not missing school lady”

Sarah looked a bit disappointed but nodded in understanding. "Okay, Dad. I just hope she feels better soon."

Joel smiled at her. "She will, thanks to your great breakfast. Now, finish up and get ready for school."

As Sarah ate her breakfast, the front door opened, and Tommy walked in, carrying a bag of groceries. "Morning, everyone!" he called out cheerfully. But his smile faded as he noticed the tension in the room. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

Joel stood up, walking over to his brother. "Hey, Tommy, missus is not feeling well this morning."

Tommy's concern was immediate. "Is she okay? Do you need me to take Sarah to school?"

Joel shook his head. "As much as I would love to stay, we need to work Tommy “

Tommy set the groceries on the kitchen counter and turned to Sarah, giving her a warm smile. "Alright, kiddo, grab your stuff. We need to go."

Sarah beamed.

Joel watched them for a moment. He then made his way back to the bedroom, where you were lying down, looking pale but resting.

"Hey, Tommy arrived. We’re leaving” Joel said softly, sitting down beside you.

You nodded. "Okay”

Joel took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Just rest now. Call me if you need anything”

As you closed your eyes, Joel stayed by your side. A short while later, the door creaked open again, and Joel looked up to see Tommy poking his head in. "Hey, everything okay in here?"

Joel nodded. "Yeah, she's resting.”

Tommy stepped into the room; his expression serious but supportive. "Anytime. Does she need anything else? I can stick around, run errands, whatever you need."

Joel shook his head, grateful for his brother's offer. "We're good for now. Just knowing you're around is enough."

Tommy smiled. "Alright. Let’s go”

As Tommy left the room, Joel turned his attention back to you. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, watching as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

Joel lingered by your side for a moment, his hand gently caressing your hair. He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead, whispering, "Bye, love. Get some rest." He stood up, quietly exiting the room to give you the peace and quiet you needed.

In the kitchen, Tommy was waiting, leaning against the counter. "You sure you’re, okay?" he asked, his concern evident in his voice.

Joel nodded, though he still looked worried. "Yeah, just trying to keep everything together. Let’s go.”

In the afternoon, you and Joel found yourselves at the supermarket, browsing the aisles to pick up a few things for his birthday. You had insisted you were feeling better, but Joel remained cautious, frequently reminding you to take things slow.

"How about we get some of that fancy cheese you like?" Joel suggested steering the cart towards the dairy section.

You smiled, appreciating his thoughtfulness. "Sure, that sounds great."

As you turned the corner into the produce aisle, you suddenly came face-to-face with Tess. She looked as surprised to see you as you were to see her.

Tess's eyes widened in surprise as she spotted you and Joel, her gaze flickering between the two of you. She was holding a child in her arms, and for a moment, you felt a pang of insecurity as you noticed how fondly Joel was looking at the little one.

"Hey," Tess said, her voice tinged with awkwardness. "I didn't expect to run into you guys here."

You forced a smile, trying to mask your own discomfort. "Yeah, same here. How have you been?"

"I've been good," Tess replied, her smile genuine as she glanced down at the child in her arms. "This is Max, my son."

You couldn't help but notice how Joel's expression softened as he looked at the child. It made you wonder—had you and Joel ever talked about having children? Or how you ruined his chance of having children with Tess when you decided to confess your feelings those years ago.

Tess continued, oblivious to your inner turmoil. "I have been in a relationship for 2 years now," she added, almost as an afterthought. "Things have been going really well."

You nodded, trying to keep your composure. "That's great to hear."

Joel spoke up, his voice warm, as he addressed Tess. "Congratulations. I'm happy for you."

“I see you are still pretty close friends,” she said. A hint of venom taunted you as she looked at you, then back at Joel.

Joel's expression remained composed as he reached for your hand, responding to Tess's remark. "Actually, we are married.”

Tess's eyes widened in surprise, and you could see a flash of disbelief cross her face before she quickly composed herself. "Oh, I see," she said, her tone masking any hint of her true feelings. "Congratulations."

You felt a surge of relief knowing that Joel had made it clear that you two were more than just friends. But the mention of Tess's son and her long-term relationship stirred up a mix of emotions within you.

Joel glanced at you, silently communicating his support, before turning back to Tess. "It's been good running into you, Tess. Take care."

With that, Joel steered the cart away, leaving Tess behind in the aisle. You followed silently, feeling a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swirling inside you. It was clear that seeing Tess and her son had brought up some unresolved feelings and questions, ones that you knew you needed to address with Joel.

The children, how could life have been if you hadn’t told Joel you loved him that night?

As you both walked back home in silence, Joel couldn't help but notice the weight of your silence. He glanced at you from time to time, concern etched in his features.

"Hey," he said softly, breaking the silence between you. "Are you okay?"

You looked up, meeting his gaze, and forced a small smile. "Yeah, I'm fine," you replied, though the tension in your voice betrayed your true feelings.

Joel stopped walking, turning to face you fully. "You don't seem fine," he said gently, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. "Is something wrong with you? Are you feeling nauseous"

“Are you sure?” he asked, once again.

“Yes.”

The evening was filled with laughter and chatter as friends and family gathered in your cozy living room. It was a celebration for Joel's birthday. The room was adorned with balloons, and the air was filled with the aroma of home-cooked food and the clinking of glasses.

Everyone seemed to be having a wonderful time, catching up with one another, and sharing stories from years past. But amidst the joyous atmosphere, you couldn't shake the feeling of being lost in your own thoughts.

As you moved from group to group, exchanging polite smiles and engaging in light conversation, your mind kept drifting back to the conversation you had with Joel earlier that day. The mention of children had opened a floodgate of emotions, leaving you feeling uncertain and apprehensive about the future.

You tried to push aside your worries and focus on the festivities, but with each passing moment, the weight of your thoughts grew heavier. You felt like an outsider, disconnected from the joy and camaraderie that filled the room.

Amidst the laughter and merriment, you found yourself retreating into the corners of your mind, grappling with the decisions that lay ahead. Would you and Joel be able to find common ground on such a significant issue? And what would your future look like if you couldn't?

As the evening wore on, you excused yourself from the lively gathering, needing a moment alone to collect your thoughts. You slipped away to the quiet solitude of your bedroom, hoping to find clarity amidst the chaos of your mind.

As the night wore on, Joel couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. Despite the lively atmosphere downstairs, a sense of unease gnawed at him, fueled by the memory of your quiet demeanor earlier in the day.

Excusing himself from the gathering, Joel made his way upstairs, a nagging worry tugging at his heart. He checked each room, calling out your name in a hushed tone, but there was no response.

Finally, he reached the bedroom and found the door slightly ajar. Pushing it open gently, he stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of you.

There, in the dim light filtering through the curtains, he spotted you sitting on the edge of the bed, your expression pensive and distant. Concern flooded Joel's heart as he approached you quietly, careful not to startle you.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice filled with warmth and concern. "Are you okay?"

You looked up at him, your eyes reflecting the turmoil within. "I'm fine," you replied, but the tightness in your voice betrayed your words.

Joel moved closer, taking a seat beside you and reaching out to gently grasp your hand. "You don't seem fine," he said gently. "Is there something on your mind?"

For a moment, you hesitated, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. But then, as you met Joel's gaze, you felt a sense of reassurance wash over you. You knew that no matter what you were facing, you didn't have to face it alone.

"I've just been thinking," you began, your voice wavering slightly. "About us and our future."

“Oh, please don’t tell me you want a divorce on my birthday.” He said this, lifting his hand to his chest.

You chuckled.

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips as you reached out to cup Joel's cheek. "No, not at all," you reassured him, your voice softening. "I was just... reflecting, you know?"

Joel's expression softened; a hint of relief was evident in his eyes. "Reflecting on what?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"On everything," you replied, your gaze searching his. “I mean, we ran into Tess today, and I couldn’t help but imagine that I stopped you from having a big family.” You paused. “What if I can’t have children, or what if you don’t want to have them with me?”

Joel's expression softened further; his eyes filled with understanding as he listened to your concerns. He reached out, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. "Hey, listen to me," he said softly. "I understand why you're feeling this way, but I need you to know something."

You looked at him, your heart racing with anticipation of his words.

"I love you and Sarah more than anything in this world," Joel continued, his voice filled with sincerity. "And while I may have imagined a different path for us at one point, what truly matters to me is being with you, no matter what."

Tears welled up in your eyes as his words washed over you, soothing your fears and uncertainties.

"I don't care about having a big family or whether we can have children," Joel said, his gaze never leaving yours. "All I care about is building a life with you.”

You felt a weight lift off your shoulders and a sense of peace settle over you as you realized that Joel's love for you transcended any external expectations or desires.

"I love you, Joel," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude.

"And I love you, more than you'll ever know," he replied, pulling you into a warm embrace as he cupped your face on his hands. “And if you want a baby, let’s make one right now, and I’ll send all these people away,” he leaned, kissing you softly.

"I love you too," you murmured against his lips, savoring the warmth of his embrace.

The idea of starting a family together filled you with excitement and anticipation. With Joel by your side, you felt ready to embrace whatever the future held, knowing that together you could overcome any challenges and celebrate life's greatest joys.

With a playful grin, you leaned in to meet Joel's kiss, feeling a surge of happiness coursing through you, but the smell of alcohol on his lips made you stand up and run to the bathroom, once again to throw up.

Joel's concern was evident as he followed you to the bathroom, his brow furrowed with worry. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern as he kneeled beside you.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as the nausea subsided. "I don't know," you admitted, feeling a sense of unease settle over you. "I've been feeling off lately, and this just... I don't know what's wrong."

Joel reached out, gently rubbing your back in a soothing gesture. "Maybe you're coming down with something," he suggested, though his tone betrayed his uncertainty.

You nodded, trying to push aside the nagging suspicion that had been growing in the back of your mind. "Maybe," you agreed softly, though deep down, you couldn't shake the feeling that something more significant was going on.

As Joel looked at you, concern etched into his features, he couldn't help but notice a certain glow on your face. It was subtle, but unmistakable—a radiance that seemed to emanate from deep within.

A thought began to form in Joel's mind, one that he couldn't quite shake. What if...?

His heart skipped a beat as he considered the possibility. Could you be pregnant?

The idea sent a surge of excitement coursing through him, mingled with a hint of apprehension. He knew that starting a family was something you both had talked about, but the idea of actually becoming parents was both thrilling and terrifying.

But as he looked at you, his mind flooded with images of a future filled with laughter, love, and the pitter-patter of tiny feet. And suddenly, the uncertainty faded away, replaced by a deep sense of hope and anticipation.

Taking a deep breath, Joel pushed aside his doubts and fears, focusing instead on the overwhelming love he felt for you and the possibility of a new life growing within you. He knew that whatever the future held, as long as you were by his side, he was ready to face it with open arms.

With a tender smile, Joel reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands. "Hey," he said softly, his voice filled with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. "I know this might sound crazy, but... what if you're pregnant?"

Your breath caught in your throat at Joel's words, the possibility hanging in the air between you. For a moment, you were speechless, the weight of the idea sinking in.

"Pregnant?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel nodded, his eyes searching yours for any sign of confirmation. "Yeah," he said, his voice tinged with hope. "I mean, it's just a thought, but... you've been feeling off lately, and the way you've been glowing... I don't know; it just got me thinking."

You took a moment to process his words; the reality of the situation was slowly sinking in. The idea of being pregnant fills you with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. It was something you had hoped for and dreamed about, but now that it might actually be happening, it felt almost surreal.

“Let’s go to the pharmacy.”

“What?! Now?” you asked, widening your eyes.

“Let’s buy a test; consider it a birthday present,” he said, already walking out of the bedroom, but you grabbed his wrist.

“But what if it comes negative?” You asked; fear was already creeping in.

Joel turned back to you, his expression softening with understanding. "Then we'll try again," he said, his voice gentle. "We'll keep trying until we get the result we want. But right now, let's just take the first step and see what happens."

He grabbed your face delicately. “And if you think I’m scared for what happened before... I know Sandy will protect you from above because you loved Sarah as if you were her mother, and I will not lose you, never.”

His words filled you with a sense of reassurance, and you nodded, feeling a surge of determination washed over you. "Okay," you said, your voice filled with resolve. "Let's do it."

The party was still in full swing when you and Joel returned, the sound of laughter and chatter filling the air. Tommy spotted you both entering and quickly made his way over, a curious expression on his face.

"What's going on with you two?" he asked, his brow furrowing with concern.

You exchanged a quick glance with Joel, the excitement and nerves bubbling up inside you. "We'll tell you later," Joel replied with a grin, his eyes twinkling with anticipation.

Before Tommy could press further, you grabbed Joel's hand and gave him a knowing look. "Let's go," you whispered, your heart pounding with anticipation.

With a shared smile, you and Joel hurried upstairs, the excitement building with each step. As you reached the bedroom, Joel wasted no time in tearing open the packaging of the pregnancy test, his hands trembling slightly with anticipation.

You followed suit, your heart racing as you carefully followed the instructions on the box. With bated breath, you both waited for the results; the tension in the air was almost palpable.

And then, finally, the moment of truth arrived. As you stared down at the test in your hands, your heart skipped a beat. Could it be? Was this really happening?

You exchanged a hopeful glance with Joel, his eyes shining with anticipation. With shaking hands, you picked up the test and examined the result.

“I can’t watch,” you said, pacing back and forth.

As you paced back and forth, the tension in the room palpable, Joel reached out, gently grasping your hand to offer you reassurance. "It's going to be okay," he said softly, his voice filled with confidence. "No matter what the result is, we'll face it together."

You nodded, trying to steady your trembling hands as you continued to stare at the test in your grasp. With a deep breath, you finally mustered the courage to look at the result.

And there it was—the moment you had been waiting for—the positive sign you had hoped for. Tears of joy welled up in your eyes as you looked up at Joel, your heart overflowing with emotion.

Joel's eyes lit up with joy as he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "I can't believe it," he murmured, his voice filled with wonder. "We're going to have a baby. My baby is having a baby”

Feeling overwhelmed with emotion, you melted into Joel's embrace, your heart swelling with love and gratitude. "Our baby," you whispered, your voice choked with tears of happiness. "We're going to be parents."

Joel held you close, his touch gentle yet reassuring. "I couldn't be happier," he said, his voice filled with awe and wonder. "This is the best birthday gift I could ever ask for."

As you and Joel stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the sound of knocking on the door broke the moment of quiet intimacy. You exchanged a glance with Joel, both of you momentarily lost in your own thoughts, before realizing that Tommy and Sarah must be looking for Joel to sing happy birthday.

Joel gently released you from his embrace, his eyes still filled with wonder and excitement. "I'll go get the door," he said softly, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before making his way to the door.

You took a deep breath, wiping away the tears that still lingered on your cheeks as you tried to compose yourself. The news of your pregnancy still felt surreal, but the joy and happiness it brought were undeniable.

As Joel opened the door, Tommy's and Sarah's voices filled the room with cheerful birthday wishes. But their smiles faded as they took in the sight of you and Joel standing together with tears in your eyes.

"Hey, what's going on?" Tommy asked, concern etched in his voice as he glanced between you and Joel.

Joel's smile widened, unable to contain his excitement any longer. “We have some news," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "We're going to have a baby."

As Joel's words hung in the air, the room seemed to hold its breath. You watched as Tommy and Sarah's expressions shifted from confusion to realization, their eyes widening with disbelief and joy.

"We're going to have a baby," Joel repeated, his voice thick with emotion as he reached out to take your hand, squeezing it tightly.

Tears welled up in Sarah's eyes as she let out a gasp of joy, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. "Oh my God," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "That's incredible!"

Tommy's eyes sparkled with excitement as he pulled both of you into a tight embrace, and his voice choked with emotion. "Congratulations, you two. This is amazing news."

In that moment, surrounded by the love and support of your family, the reality of the situation hit you like a wave. You were going to be parents—a thought that filled you with a profound sense of gratitude and awe.

Loving Joel didn’t ruin your life.

With tears streaming down your cheeks, you exchanged tearful hugs with Tommy and Sarah, feeling overwhelmed with joy and gratitude. This was the beginning of a new chapter in your lives, and you couldn't wait to embark on this journey together, hand in hand, with the love of your life by your side.

taglist 💌: @immywonderdefender @sarahhxx03 @powellssaturn @ifall4dilfs @harriedandharassed @skysmiller @missladym1981 @brittmb115 @guelyury @heartpascalispunk @ashleyfilm @loveisacowboyyy @southernbe @pedrolom @maryfanson @neganbestie

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kyletogaz · 2 days

Text

cw: p in v sex

masterlist

something about johnny pouncing on you as soon as he gets home from a long deployment. he doesn’t bother saying hello, he’ll do it with his cock instead. he lets you get a couple of words out, before he’s pawing at your clothes and ripping your panties off. johnny’s got you trapped between him and the front door, your legs wrapped around him, and his cock buried deep in your drooling pussy. the sound of your slick fills your ears while he’s pumping his cock in and out of your spongy walls.

a broken moan spills from your lips when his cock repeatedly brushes up against your g-spot. “j-johnny!” you choke out as you dig your nails into his shoulders.

johnny flashes you a grin that makes you whimper. “that’s right, bonnie, say my name. wanna hear ye sing it,” he groans while bouncing you up and down on his cock.

the way johnny fucks you is full of urgency. he’s missed having you cum on his cock. he’s missed painting your walls. all the nights he’s spent fisting his cock until he cums with your name on his lips have caught up to him.

“please, please, please,” you wail when johnny pulls out, then slams back in with a moan. the feeling of his thick, heavy cock plunging in and out of you is starting to become too much. the delicious drag against your walls has you seeing stars as tears spill down your cheeks.

“please what?” johnny coos, before he leans forward to lap at your tears with his tongue.

he’s fucking you so stupid you can’t even string up a decent reply. he loves seeing you like this, pupils blown wide, in tears, pussy wetter than a faucet, and just completely fucked out.

“nothin’ tae say?” he laughs as he rocks up into you, his forehead dropping to your shoulder when your pussy clenches around his cock in response. “f-fuck, bonnie. ye feel so good aroun’ my cock.”

you’re barely even there. just moaning and whining and grinding your hips down to meet johnny’s thrusts as waves of pleasure crash into you. he has to tighten his grip on you and tell you to slow down, his cock isn’t going anywhere. but you can’t, your pussy won’t let you. you need it. you need him. you let out a soft cry when johnny’s thumb brushes against your clit, his thrusts never wavering as a pleasure induced haze settles over the both of you.

when your pussy starts to flutter around his cock, johnny knows you’re close. it only makes him fuck you harder and faster until your head is thrown back against the door and your pussy spasms around his cock. and poor you, johnny hasn’t cum yet so he’s wearing your pussy out, sending you straight into another orgasm.

“johnny, please! i-i–” johnny just drives his cock deeper into your pussy at a frenzied paced, until his hips start to stutter and he’s shooting his load into your sopping wet hole.

when you both recover, johnny eases you off his cock and sets your feet back onto the floor. you’re leaning against the door with a dazed expression on your face and cum dripping down your thighs, while your husband is grinning like a madman.

a/n: this is what i think about at almost one in the morning

#john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #kyletogazwrites

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eddiediazbuck · 3 days

Note

hi!! i really loved your eddie fic "home"!! chris scared of y/n leaving made me feel so 🥹🥹

would you be able to write an eddie diaz x buckley!reader fic where the reader is also a firefighter in the 118?

Thank you so much for the request!

PROTECTIVE - EDDIE DIAZ

The tension in the firehouse of Station 118 was almost palpable whenever Eddie Diaz and Y/N Buckley were in the same room. Eddie, with his charming smile and confident demeanor, seemed to effortlessly annoy Y/N, whose sharp tongue and fierce independence often clashed with his playful, flirtatious nature. The situation was complicated further by the fact that Y/N’s brother, Buck, was Eddie’s best friend and partner at the fire station.

Eddie often found himself at the Buckley apartment, where Buck and Y/N shared a living space. What was meant to be a simple arrangement for Buck and his sister often turned into a battlefield whenever Eddie was around. The playful banter between Eddie and Y/N was a source of amusement for Buck, but it was also a constant source of frustration for Y/N.

Y/N Buckley was not one to back down from a challenge. Her determination and strong will had earned her respect at Station 118, but they also meant that she and Eddie were frequently at odds. Eddie’s flirty comments, which were meant to be light-hearted and playful, often struck a nerve with her. She found his constant teasing infuriating, not realizing that beneath his jokes, Eddie was genuinely intrigued by her strong spirit.

--- --- ---

Day-to-day life at the firehouse was a mix of adrenaline-fueled action and mundane routine. The team at Station 118 was a tight-knit group, and despite their differences, they functioned as a well-oiled machine when it came to saving lives. Y/N and Eddie’s professional relationship was no exception. They might have bickered off-duty, but on the job, they had each other’s backs.

Eddie’s playful nature never missed an opportunity to tease Y/N. “Hey, Y/N, did you lose a bet with fashion today?” he quipped one morning as she walked in, her expression already showing signs of exasperation.

“Shut it, Diaz,” she shot back, rolling her eyes. “You wouldn’t know fashion if it hit you in the face.”

Buck chuckled, watching the familiar exchange. “You two should just get a room,” he joked, earning a glare from his sister.

“Not in a million years,” Y/N and Eddie replied simultaneously, their voices laced with mutual disdain.

Despite their constant bickering, the rest of the team couldn’t deny the chemistry between them. There was an unspoken connection, a tension that simmered beneath the surface, hinting at something deeper than either of them was willing to admit.

--- --- ---

The day started like any other at Station 118. The team was gathered in the common area, going over the day’s schedule and cracking jokes. Eddie and Buck were engaged in a heated discussion about a recent basketball game, while Y/N sat nearby, rolling her eyes at their animated debate.

Just as the laughter echoed through the room, the alarm sounded. Instantly, everyone was on their feet, the camaraderie giving way to professional focus. They moved with practiced efficiency, each member of the team falling into their roles as they raced to the fire trucks.

“House fire reported on Elm Street,” Bobby Nash, the station captain, announced as they boarded the truck. “We’ve got reports of people trapped inside. Let’s move, people!”

Eddie and Buck exchanged a serious glance, the gravity of their mission settling in. Y/N was already geared up, her face a mask of determination. The rivalry between her and Eddie was forgotten, replaced by the urgency of the situation.

As they arrived at the scene, thick smoke billowed from the two-story house, flames licking at the windows. Neighbors stood outside, watching in horror as the fire consumed the building. The team sprang into action, their training taking over as they worked to contain the blaze and rescue the trapped occupants.

Eddie and Y/N found themselves paired up, working together to search the upper floor for any survivors. The heat was intense, and the smoke made it difficult to see, but they pressed on, determined to save anyone they could.

“Over here!” Eddie called out, spotting a faint outline through the smoke. Y/N was right behind him as they approached a closed door. They could hear faint cries for help coming from inside.

Without hesitation, Eddie kicked the door open, revealing a young woman huddled in the corner, coughing and gasping for air. Y/N rushed to her side, helping her to her feet and guiding her towards the window.

“We’re getting you out of here,” she assured the woman, her voice calm despite the chaos around them.

Eddie broke the window, the glass shattering as fresh air rushed in. He and Y/N carefully helped the woman through the opening, lowering her to the ground where paramedics were waiting.

As they prepared to continue their search, a loud crack echoed through the house. The floor beneath them began to give way, and Eddie grabbed Y/N’s arm, pulling her back just in time as the wood splintered and collapsed.

“We need to get out of here,” Eddie urged, his usual playful tone replaced by serious concern.

Y/N nodded, her heart pounding. Together, they made their way back through the smoke-filled hallway, their movements swift and coordinated. They had just reached the stairs when another loud crash sounded above them.

“Hurry!” Y/N shouted, her voice barely audible over the roar of the flames.

They descended the stairs as fast as they could, emerging from the house just as the roof caved in. The rest of the team was there to meet them, relief evident on their faces as they saw Eddie and Y/N emerge unscathed.

--- --- ---

Back at the station, the adrenaline rush began to wear off, leaving exhaustion in its wake. Y/N sat in the locker room, wiping sweat and soot from her face. She was physically and emotionally drained, the events of the day replaying in her mind.

Eddie entered, his usual swagger tempered by the day’s ordeal. He glanced at Y/N, his expression uncharacteristically serious.

“You did good out there,” he said quietly, breaking the silence.

Y/N looked up, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “Thanks,” she replied, her tone softer than usual. “You too.”

For a moment, the usual animosity between them was absent, replaced by mutual respect and understanding. It was a rare glimpse beneath the surface, a reminder that despite their differences, they were a team.

Eddie hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “Look, I know we don’t always see eye to eye, but I respect you, Y/N. You’re one hell of a firefighter.”

Y/N felt a flicker of warmth at his words, the sincerity cutting through the usual banter. “I respect you too, Eddie,” she admitted. “Even if you do drive me crazy.”

A small smile tugged at Eddie’s lips. “It’s a gift,” he said, his playful tone returning. “But seriously, I’m glad we’ve got each other’s backs out there.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a sense of camaraderie that she hadn’t allowed herself to acknowledge before. “Me too,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

--- --- ---

Days turned into weeks, and life at Station 118 continued at its usual hectic pace. Eddie and Y/N’s relationship remained a mix of playful banter and professional respect, but there was a subtle shift in their dynamic. They still bickered, but there was a newfound understanding between them, a recognition of the bond they shared as firefighters and friends.

One evening, Buck invited Eddie over for dinner at the Buckley apartment. Y/N, unaware of the invitation, was less than thrilled to find Eddie at their doorstep when she returned home from a long shift.

“Great, just what I needed,” she muttered under her breath as she walked into the living room, finding Eddie and Buck laughing over a game on the TV.

“Hey, sis! Join us for dinner?” Buck called out, oblivious to the tension between his sister and best friend.

Y/N sighed, too tired to argue. “Fine,” she said, dropping her bag by the door and heading to the kitchen. “But I’m not cooking.”

Eddie followed her, a smirk on his face. “Need some help?” he offered, leaning against the counter.

“No,” Y/N replied curtly, opening the fridge and pulling out ingredients for a quick meal. “I’ve got it.”

Eddie watched her for a moment, his expression unreadable. “You know, you don’t always have to be so tough,” he said quietly.

Y/N paused, surprised by his words. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Eddie said, stepping closer, “that it’s okay to let people in sometimes. You don’t have to do everything on your own.”

Y/N stared at him, the familiar irritation mixing with something else, something softer. “Why do you care?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

Eddie shrugged, his gaze steady. “Because I do.”

--- --- ---

Life has a way of throwing curveballs when you least expect them. It was a rainy evening, and Y/N was driving home after a particularly grueling shift. Her thoughts were scattered, a mix of exhaustion and the lingering conversation she’d had with Eddie. She barely noticed the slick road and the car speeding towards her until it was too late.

The collision was violent, the impact sending her car spinning off the road. Everything became a blur of pain and darkness as she lost consciousness.

At Station 118, the alarm sounded, pulling the team from their evening routine. “Car accident on Maple and 5th,” Bobby announced as they scrambled to gear up. “Multiple vehicles involved. Let’s move!”

Eddie and Buck exchanged a glance, their usual banter absent as they focused on the task at hand. As they arrived at the scene, the sight that greeted them was chaotic. Cars were scattered, some overturned, with injured people trapped inside.

The team sprang into action, each member taking on different tasks. Eddie and Buck moved towards a badly damaged car, working to free the person trapped inside. As Eddie peered through the shattered window, his heart stopped.

It was Y/N.

“Buck, it’s Y/N!” Eddie’s voice cracked with panic as he recognized her.

Buck’s face went pale, his professional composure slipping. “We need to get her out of there,” he said urgently.

Eddie’s hands trembled as he worked to free Y/N from the wreckage, his mind racing with fear and guilt. He could see her injuries, the blood staining her clothes, and it felt like a knife twisting in his heart.

With the help of the team, they managed to extricate Y/N from the car. Eddie cradled her in his arms, his usually steady hands shaking. “Stay with me, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice choked with emotion. “Please, stay with me.”

Buck was by his side, his face a mask of anguish as he watched his sister’s unconscious form. “We need to get her to the hospital, now,” he said, his voice tight with fear.

The paramedics took over, loading Y/N into the ambulance. Eddie and Buck rode with her, their hearts heavy with dread. The usually confident and playful Eddie was a wreck, his mind consumed with worry for the woman he realized he cared about more than he had ever admitted.

---- --- ---

The hours that followed were some of the longest and most agonizing of Eddie’s life. He and Buck sat in the hospital waiting room, the sterile environment doing nothing to calm their nerves. Eddie’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions—fear, guilt, regret. He replayed every interaction he’d had with Y/N, every teasing comment, and wished he could take back every moment of tension between them.

Buck was equally distraught, his worry for his sister palpable. “She’s strong,” he said, more to himself than to Eddie. “She’s going to make it.”

Eddie nodded, but his heart was heavy with doubt. He couldn’t shake the image of Y/N’s bloodied and broken form from his mind. The realization of how much she meant to him hit him with full force, leaving him feeling helpless and lost.

When the doctor finally emerged, both men stood up, their faces etched with anxiety. “She’s stable,” the doctor said, a note of reassurance in his voice. “She’s going to be okay, but she’s going to need time to heal.”

Relief washed over them, but the weight of the situation still lingered. Eddie felt a wave of gratitude, but also a deep sense of responsibility. He vowed to himself that he would be there for Y/N, no matter what. The playful facade he had maintained for so long was gone, replaced by a newfound resolve to be the support she needed.

“Buck,” Eddie said, turning to his friend. “You should go home and get some rest. You’ve been here all day. I’ll stay the night and make sure she’s okay.”

Buck looked at Eddie, his eyes filled with gratitude and exhaustion. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want to leave her.”

“I’m sure,” Eddie replied, his tone firm yet gentle. “I’ll call you if anything changes. She’s going to need both of us when she wakes up, and you’ll be no good to her if you’re running on empty.”

Buck hesitated for a moment, then nodded, recognizing the truth in Eddie’s words. “Thanks, man,” he said, clapping Eddie on the shoulder. “I owe you one.”

“No, you don’t,” Eddie said, giving Buck a reassuring smile. “We’re in this together.”

As Buck left the hospital, Eddie settled into the chair beside Y/N’s bed. He watched her sleep, his heart aching at the sight of her injuries. He reached out, gently taking her hand in his, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.

“I’m here, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

--- --- ---

Y/N’s recovery was slow and painful. She spent several days in the hospital, her body battered but her spirit unbroken. Eddie was a constant presence by her side, his usual teasing replaced by genuine care and concern.

One morning, Y/N stirred from her restless sleep, her eyes fluttering open. The sterile white ceiling of the hospital room came into focus, and as she turned her head, she saw Eddie slumped in the chair beside her bed. He was asleep, his head tilted awkwardly to one side, his expression soft and unguarded.

The sight of him there, keeping vigil through the night, sent a surge of emotions through Y/N. She felt a warmth spread through her chest, a mix of gratitude and something deeper, something she hadn’t allowed herself to acknowledge before. Despite their constant bickering, Eddie had been there for her when she needed him most.

Y/N’s movement stirred Eddie from his slumber. He blinked groggily, his eyes widening as he saw her awake. “Y/N,” he said, his voice thick with sleep and relief. “You’re awake.”

“Hey,” she replied, her voice raspy. “You didn’t have to stay here all night, you know.”

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t going to leave you alone.”

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat, the sincerity in his words touching her deeply. “Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Eddie reached out, taking her hand in his. “I’m just glad you’re okay,” he said softly. “You had us all worried.”

Y/N managed a small smile, her fingers curling around his. “I guess I gave everyone quite a scare, huh?”

“Yeah, you did,” Eddie admitted, his gaze never leaving hers. “But you’re tough. I knew you’d pull through.”

For a moment, they simply held each other’s gaze, the usual barriers between them gone. In that quiet hospital room, surrounded by the hum of machines and the scent of antiseptic, something shifted between them.

--- --- ---

As Y/N’s recovery progressed, she and Eddie spent more time together. The hospital room became a space for honest conversations and shared vulnerabilities. Eddie’s presence was a constant comfort, his playful facade giving way to a more tender, caring side.

One evening, as the sun set outside the hospital window, Y/N turned to Eddie, her voice filled with curiosity. “Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked, her eyes searching his.

Eddie smiled, his eyes softening. “Because I care about you, Y/N. More than I realized. And I’m sorry for all the times I made things difficult between us.”

Y/N was silent for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. “I never hated you, Eddie,” she admitted quietly. “I just didn’t know how to handle you.”

Eddie chuckled, a sound that was both light and filled with emotion. “I guess I didn’t make it easy, did I?”

Y/N managed a small smile. “No, you didn’t. But I’m glad you’re here.”

--- --- ---

Y/N’s discharge from the hospital marked the beginning of a new chapter in her life. While she was relieved to leave the sterile environment behind, the road to recovery was still long and fraught with challenges. Eddie, who had been a constant presence by her side during her hospital stay, continued to be her unwavering support.

As she settled back into the Buckley apartment, it became clear that Eddie’s concern for her had intensified. He was attentive to her every need, often to the point of being overprotective.

"Eddie, I appreciate you looking out for me, but I can make my own breakfast," Y/N said one morning, gently trying to ease his worry.

Eddie was in the kitchen, meticulously preparing scrambled eggs. He looked up, his expression a mix of concern and determination. "I know you can, Y/N. But you need to rest and focus on healing. Let me take care of you."

Y/N sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You've been taking care of me non-stop since the accident. Aren't you getting tired?"

"Never," Eddie replied firmly, placing a plate in front of her. "You're more important to me than anything else."

--- --- ---

Eddie's overprotectiveness extended beyond the confines of the apartment. At work, he was constantly checking in on Y/N, ensuring she wasn't overexerting herself. This behavior did not go unnoticed by their colleagues at Station 118.

"Y/N, you okay? Need any help with that?" Eddie asked for the third time that day as she worked on a routine maintenance task.

Hen rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she passed by. "Eddie, she's fine. You've got to let her breathe a little."

Y/N shot Hen a grateful look. "Thank you, Hen. See, Eddie? I'm in good hands."

Eddie sighed but nodded, knowing his friends were right. "I just... I worry, you know?"

"We know," Chimney said, clapping Eddie on the shoulder. "But you've got to trust that Y/N can handle herself. She's tougher than you give her credit for."

Despite his friends' reassurances, Eddie couldn't shake his protective instincts. Every time he saw Y/N wince or heard her sigh in discomfort, his heart clenched with worry. He knew she was strong, but the thought of losing her or seeing her hurt again was more than he could bear.

One evening, as they sat on the couch watching a movie, Y/N turned to Eddie, her expression serious. "Eddie, we need to talk."

Eddie muted the TV and faced her, his heart pounding. "What is it?"

"I appreciate everything you've done for me," Y/N began, taking his hand in hers. "But you're smothering me. I need to feel like I can do things on my own again."

Eddie looked down, guilt and concern battling within him. "I just don't want anything to happen to you."

Y/N squeezed his hand. "I know. But I need to regain my independence. And you need to trust that I can take care of myself. We'll face any challenges together, but you have to give me some space."

Eddie took a deep breath, nodding slowly. "You're right. I'm sorry, Y/N. It's just... seeing you hurt, it scared me more than anything."

Y/N sighed. "I know. And I love you for caring so much. But we'll get through this together, okay?"

Eddie's heart skipped a beat at Y/N's words. He looked up, meeting her gaze with a mixture of surprise and hope. "You love me?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N's cheeks flushed pink, but she didn't look away. "Yes, Eddie. I love you."

A rush of emotions flooded through Eddie—joy, relief, and a profound sense of gratitude. He had hoped for this moment, but hearing the words from Y/N's lips made it feel like a dream come true.

"I love you too, Y/N," Eddie said, his voice filled with sincerity. "More than I ever thought possible."

They sat there for a moment, letting the weight of their words sink in, the warmth of their love enveloping them like a cozy blanket. In that quiet moment, surrounded by the soft glow of the TV and the comforting presence of each other, they knew that their bond was unbreakable.

As they leaned in, their breaths mingling in the air charged with anticipation, Eddie and Y/N shared a moment that felt like the culmination of a lifetime of unspoken emotions. Their lips met in a tender, hesitant kiss—a gentle exploration that spoke volumes of their love and longing.

It was a kiss filled with a quiet intensity, a silent declaration of their deepest feelings. In that fleeting moment, the world around them faded away, leaving only the warmth of their embrace and the electricity of their connection.

Their hearts beat in sync as they melted into each other, each brush of their lips a whispered promise of forever. And as they pulled back, their eyes locked in a shared gaze filled with newfound understanding and a sense of completeness, they knew that this kiss was just the beginning of their journey together

#9 1 1 on abc #eddie diaz #eddie diaz imagine #eddie diaz x reader

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therealcocoshady · 2 days

Text

Recovery - Chapter 37

Eminem x Female Reader Fanfiction

Synopsis : Em starts therapy. Reader is organizing Jamal and Talia's wedding. A track gets leaked., causing Jamal to be angry at Em.

MARSHALL’S POV

Marshall was rather nervous when he sat in the chair in his therapist’s office. In the past decade, he had made a point to avoid therapy as much as he could, only committing to the bare minimum. Technically, he was seeing a therapist but, from the very beginning of their session, he had made it clear that he did not really want to go over his whole life story, over-analyzing his relationship with his mother or whatever therapists were usually interested in. So, for more than fifteen years, the sessions focused solely on his addiction management and potential triggers. Anything that was not related, he deemed irrelevant and, at some point, his therapist gave up on trying to get him to talk about his childhood or going in depth on his feelings. And so far, it had worked out pretty well for him. He was sober for more than sixteen years now and, if it were not for fear of losing the woman he loved, he would gladly stick to the usual agenda. But it was Y/N, and the thought of losing her over something as stupid as his trauma was making him sick to his stomach, so when she asked if he would consider therapy, he reluctantly accepted. As painful as a two hour session talking about the neglect he experienced in his youth seemed, he knew It wouldn’t compare to the pain of having the woman he loved leaving him. And even if if didn’t come to that, he didn’t want to hurt her, in any way, shape of form. He had fucked up big time and he knew it.

When he called his therapist’s office to request an emergency session, he was greeted with urgency and the secretary immediately put him through with Dr Hanson, who immediately asked if there was a relapse. And why wouldn’t she ? When a patient’s been refractory for years, there can only be so many reasons why they’d be so eager to have a session. He said he hadn’t relapsed, just « relationship stuff » he needed to figure out and it was enough for the therapist to open her practice earlier on a Monday morning after Thanksgiving. Dr Hanson had been trying to get him to open up for years but he had always refused, considering his music to be his best form of therapy. When he walked in and sat in the chair, he was greeted with a smile.

Good morning Marshall, Dr Hanson said.

‘Morning, Doc. Thanks for the quick appointment, he replied with genuine gratefulness.

Well it’s not every day that one of your oldest patient decides to open up out of the blue, is it ? She grinned.

Well, it took fifteen years but you finally get what you wanted, he shrugged.

So, Marshall, what brings you in today ? She asked.

He took a second to respond. He knew what brought him in but filling her in with so many details about his personal life felt foreign. He had a great working relationship with Dr Hanson, but it had always been on a need to know basis. Now, though, he knew the whole thing would need dissecting. He hummed and chose his words carefully.

I, uh… Snapped at my partner, he explained. We managed to talk it out but she said something about unresolved trauma I shouldn’t take on her, so… Here I am. Trying to make things right. I don’t want it to happen again.

Dr Hanson stayed silent for a split second and looked at him from behind her glasses. She brought her hand to her mouth, noted something on her notepad and smiled.

Looks like Christmas came early, this year, she said with a smirk. Can you go over the events for me ?

______

TWO WEEKS LATER

Y/N’s POV

The weeks following Thanksgiving were nothing short of heavenly. You were feeling at home in the house, you adopted the cutest cat, Talia and Jamal’s wedding was coming together and Marshall was more attentive than ever. You knew he went to see his therapist a couple times a week, though you didn’t pry and ask for much details about their sessions. However, from what you gathered, it seemed to work well for him. In his conversations with you, he seemed more analytical about his own feelings, even talking to you about how he felt about certain things. The two of you had always had good talks, but he was opening up more than ever. And on top of that, he was extremely vocal about how much he appreciated you, lavishing you with praises, telling you how thankful he was whenever you did the smallest thing for him. You had no idea who his therapist was but, if you could, you’d send them gifts. Seeing your boyfriend at peace with his feelings was satisfying, and it didn’t hurt that he was consciously trying to make it up to you. In his own words, he wanted to be « the man you deserve ». Every night, when he was coming home, you were excited to see him and share your progress on the wedding. You knew he didn’t really like all that stuff, but he was supportive of your endeavors. He was even the one who came up with an idea for the venue. One night, he took you on a drive to a lovely place, near the area where you lived. He pointed to a gorgeous house. Well, actually, it was more of a manor. It had an English vibes, rustic yet elegant.

What do you think ? He asked.

That’s gorgeous ! You said. It fits right within the wedding theme ! It looks just like the one on the mood board Talia made the other week !

I know, he grinned. I was driving in the area with Paul for an appointment the other day and I saw it was for sale. I called the real estate agency and they might be able to convince the seller to lease it for the event, if Talia and Jamal like it.

They’re going to love it, you assured him. It’s exactly what they want for the ceremony. Cosy, small, intimate… Do you think we can plan a visit ?

Realtor’s inside, he said with a smile. That’s why I brought you here.

You’re the best !

I know you’ve been working your ass off for the wedding and struggled to find a venue, so I thought I’d help, he shrugged.

You placed a kiss on your cheek and exited the car. The place was stunning, big enough and ticked all the boxes. You were under the spell of the house, that resembled the one you always dreamed of living in when you were a little girl. It had a big, beautiful flower garden in the back, ivy was climbing around the big widows and there was a beautiful fireplace. Marshall could tell you liked the place a bit too much and teased you.

Don’t get too excited, it’s for Jamal and Talia’s wedding, not for us to move in, he chuckled.

I know, you said with a smile. I like your house just fine, you know ? I just really like the vibe of this one. Besides, I know you could never live here.

Why is that ? He asked with a raised eyebrow.

You like your own house too much, you pointed out. Plus, this one is not located in an area that’s secure enough.

It’s your house too, you know ? He said. You keep on saying it’s my house but… You live there too.

I know, you said. I’m starting to feel more and more at home. It just takes a minute.

You know, if there are any features you like in this house, we can also make some changes to our house. I want you to be happy, he commented.

No need, you assured him. As long as I have you, I’m good.

It was the truth. You were incredibly thankful for the house you lived in and you knew how attached Marshall was to this place. He’d been living there for so long, you didn’t want to intrude. Plus, as long as you had him, you knew you could feel at home everywhere, eventually. Besides, who would complain about living in a literal mansion ? No one. You did not give it a second thought but, the next day, Marshall surprised you by handing you the card of an interior designer.

What’s that ? You asked.

I’ve been thinking, he said. I saw how excited you were about the house we visited yesterday, how you kept saying you dreamt of living in that kind of place when you were younger… I want you to feel at home, here, I really do. And my therapist says I need to… How did she say it ? Make actual space for you. So, I was thinking that, if you want, you could redecorate a little ?

Are you sure ?

Babe, I’ve owned this place for almost two decades and a lot of the rooms could use a little update, he chuckled. I don’t really care about the whole home decor thing, honestly. I could go another twenty years without changing much. But this is your home and I want you to enjoy the space, not only feel content with it, you know what I’m saying ? If I recall, we agreed that you’d have your own room, like home office or whatever, when I asked you to move in. Why don’t you start here ?

Could I make it a reading room ? You asked with excitement. With big bookshelves ? And a big chair ?

Whatever you want, he said with a genuine smile. The interior designer will make your dreams happen.

I love you ! Thank you thank you thank you !

You hugged him tightly and he whispered sweet words in your ear, like how grateful he was for you and your presence in his life, and how he wanted nothing but to make you happy. You were over the moon, impressed by his generosity and commitment to you. You were on cloud nine, imagining your very own reading room in which you could simply curl up with a good book and a blanket while sipping tea, living your introvert life to the fullest.

In the following days, you took Talia to see the house Marshall had taken you to and she absolutely loved it. Thanks to your amazing boyfriend, they finally had a venue. The two of you also went dress shopping. Your best friend found the right dress very easily. To be fair, the two of you had spent enough time imagining the perfect wedding dress so she had a good idea of what she wanted. The whole thing was almost disappointing : the two of you had imagined that she would have to try on at least fifteen different dresses to find the right one, but it took only two. It was absolutely gorgeous and Talia looked regal in it. The dress was definitely over the top but it was more than fitting with her personality. The two of you had made a lengthy appointment with the store consultant and it seemed like your best friend had not had her fill of wedding dresses fittings, yet.

How about you try one, Y/N ? She suggested.

No way, you said. This is your day. You try another one.

Any other dress would look pale in comparison, she said. I found the one. I feel it in my bones. Just… Indulge me, will you ?

I’m not getting married, you reminded her.

All the more reason, she pleaded. If you don’t try one now, you’ll never see yourself in a wedding dress ! Please ?! It’s my big day, you said it. And as my best friend, I think you should oblige me…

You have a weird way of being a bridezilla, you commented. But sure, whatever…

You didn’t really see the point. To you, it was weird. A lot of brides would have found it disrespectful if their friend decided to randomly try on wedding dresses on the day of their fitting but Talia was pushing for you to do it. Eventually, you caved in and obliged her. She immediately called the sales assistant, to whom you had to describe your ideal dress. It occurred to you that it was a good thing you weren’t getting married, because you were incredibly specific. You wanted a dress that was simple, elegant and understated, but not plain. You didn’t want it to be revealing but you didn’t want to look like a nun either. You thought it would be impossible to find but the woman came with three dresses for you to try on. As soon as you tried the first one, you felt like it was a costume you put on. It felt too much and wholly unnatural, though the dress was gorgeous. The second dress was nice but not « you » at all. You were practically begging to stop but Talia was having too much fun, claiming this was the moment you were always supposed to share so you happily indulged her by trying on the last dress. And, much to your surprise, magic happened. It was the ultimate dress, the one that you would have chosen, if you had been meant to get married. You were feeling like a princess and Talia even teared up a little.

Why are you crying ? You asked.

You-you’re just so beautiful, she said. That’s your forever dress. Right here.

I’m not having a forever dress, remember ? You said with a small smile. Marshall…

…Is an idiot, that’s what he is, she said as she kept on crying. I can’t bear the idea of you doing all these nice things for my wedding and knowing I will never be your maid of honor and return the favor because Em is too stubborn to give you what you deserve !

I should be the one crying about it, not you, you pointed out with a chuckle. I’m fine, I swear. He is amazing and I have all that I want.

I’m pregnant and hormonal, that’s all, she said reassuringly. But you’re so beautiful. You should buy it !

Tay, this dress is way too expensive and… It’s not like I’m going to wear it around the house, right ? You giggled.

Ok, but at least let me take pictures ? Because I want to remember the day I finally got to try on wedding dresses with my best friend ! She begged.

Sure, you giggled.

You didn’t mind wearing the dress a little longer. It was kind of fun. A voice in the back of your mind was telling you to savor the moment, because it was, indeed, your only chance to wear a wedding dress. You were incredibly thankful to have such a thoughtful best friend to give you this experience.

Remind me to slap Em, she said.

Why ? You giggled.

Because he’s not only robbing you of your dream wedding, he is also robbing me of the greatest day as maid of honor !

I’m having just as much fun planning your wedding, you assured her.

Quit it, she almost groaned. It’s not a pageant speech, you don’t have to play the Disney princess. And he’s not here to hear you, we can bitch about him !

I’ll admit I would have loved getting married, you said. Not right now, it’s too early, but knowing it could happen…

You see, it’s good to hate a little, she grinned.

But, I don’t know, I guess he has his own trauma, you shrugged. Two failed marriages with the same person must have been tough. I understand not wanting a third one. God, his therapist must have fun…

You managed to send that man to therapy ? She asked with a raised eyebrow.

Yeah, we had a little argument, you said. No big deal. But it sparked a conversation about therapy and he agreed to give it a try.

Well, maybe he will work on his fear of commitment then, she pointed out.

I don’t think it’s about commitment, you said earnestly. I think he’s very committed to me. He says so himself.

I’ll circle back to what I said : Em is the most stupid man I have ever met. God, I always knew men were stupid but this one…

You giggled. Talia was your ultimate ride or die and you knew that if you told her more about the argument you had with him, she would have his head. But to you, it was in the past and Marshall had been so amazing, so attentive and romantic lately that you didn’t feel like bringing it up. After you were done trying on dresses, you joined the guys at the studio. It was your first time going back since you moved back to the US and you were really excited. You found the guys talking in the lobby, happy to see you.

Look who’s here, Porter said with a smile. Hi boss !

Are you really calling me boss ? You asked with a giggle.

Well, Marshall is our boss and you’re his boss, so technically…

She’s not my boss, Marshall chuckled.

Right, Royce chuckled. You can lie to yourself but not to us, man.

I like the sound of that, Talia grinned.

How was the wedding dress appointment ? Jamal asked. Did you find something ?

I did ! Your best friend said with excitement. Y/N found her dream dress too !

Talia, you scolded with a laugh.

What ?! Talia asked. It’s true. And you looked perfect in it ! Didn’t she, Em ?

Marshall simply sighed at her and rolled his eyes with a smile.

Don’t tell me you sent a pic ?! You asked her.

What ? She replied innocently. Merely showing that man what he’s missing…

You did look incredible, Marshall said as he kissed your temple.

Sorry about her, you said apologetically. She’s the one who convinced me…

Don’t you dare apologize, Talia said. Someone has to show him how stupid he’s being.

Talia, please don’t start, Marshall groaned.

Oh, I will start, she warned. I don’t understand how stubborn you’re being about this !

Jamal, please reason your wife to be, your boyfriend groaned.

Man, Y/N is your boss and Talia is mine, Jamal chuckled. I’m not dumb enough to argue…

I’m just saying Y/N’s finger could use a diamond on it, Talia argued with a smile. She’s worth it, isn’t she ?

If that’s about the diamonds, she’s got nine other fingers, Marshall said with a smirk. And I fully intend on putting a ring on each and every one of them. Now, I appreciate the pictures of my girl looking absolutely stunning in a white dress, but you should worry about your own wedding, Talia.

Men are dumb, Talia sighed.

What the hell did we do ? Porter asked. He’s being dumb, leave the rest of us alone !

Don’t start either, your boyfriend warned him.

You giggled and let your head roll on your boyfriend’s shoulder, enjoying his presence. You loved being home with him, but the studio had a vibe you particularly enjoyed, probably because it was where you met Marshall. You had fun for the rest of the afternoon, hanging out with everyone. Talia seemed a bit moody about Marshall not caving in on the topic of marriage and you were not so sure why. You assumed she was just moody in general, which you could probably blame on pregnancy. She had a knack for being dramatic and hormones probably didn’t help too much in that department. If memory served, you’d been an emotional mess in your first trimester so you weren’t going to judge… In the car ride home, Marshall brought it up.

So… Talia was a handful, he chuckled.

I’m sorry about her, you said. I think she’s stressed out about the wedding and a bit disappointed that she won’t be able to reciprocate the whole maid of honor thing. And, you know, hormones…

Right, he said. But… Are you alright ?

I am, you said with a genuine smile. I had fun today. Probably enjoyed trying on this dress more than I should have, I’ll admit.

Look… Maybe we need to talk about the whole marriage thing, he said nervously. I… The reason why I can’t get married is because-

Marshall, you don’t owe me any type of explanation, you said reassuringly. You’ve been married to Kim twice, you have your own trauma and I know it has nothing to do with me.

You do ? He asked.

Look… I see all the efforts you’ve made for me, you said. We got the cat I wanted. You’re letting me redecorate a room in your house. You started therapy. You’re even helping me with Talia and Jamal’s wedding. I know you love me.

I do, he said with a smile. I’m in love with you.

And don’t think I didn’t hear what you said about me having nine other fingers you could put a ring on, you grinned. I do enjoy a good piece of jewelry.

Noted, he chuckled. Thank you for understanding, baby.

He seemed relieved about the fact that you didn’t press him to talk about the topic. As far as you were concerned, you were trying not to think about it too much. And everything you said was true : you were truly grateful for his efforts during the past weeks and wanted to respect his choices as much as possible. The two of you enjoyed your evening, cuddling with your cat, who seemed to despise Marshall. The next morning, you were awaken by the doorbell. Someone was putting all their energy into ringing, way too early in the morning.

Mind getting the door while I’m getting dressed ? Marshall asked with a groan. I swear, if it’s the damn neighbor about her stupid bake sale again…

I’ll get it, you said with a yawn. She’s been annoying me too, you know ? And it’s not even 7AM… Who does that ?!

That woman is crazy, he sighed. Met her twenty years ago and she was already a nightmare. She was convinced I’d bring drugs and crime into her precious neighborhood. Even warned me that she’d call the cops if she saw prostitutes around…

You giggled and went to open the door, ready to tell Mrs Davis to leave you alone. But much to your surprise, you were greeted my Jamal’s face. He was not smiling as usual, immediately telling you that something was wrong.

What’s up, Jamal ? You asked. What are you doing here so early ? Its there anything wrong ? Is it about Talia ? The baby…?

Em here ? He asked dryly.

Yeah he’s getting dressed…, you replied. Oh, there he is.

What’s up, man ? Marshall asked as he came to greet Jamal.

YOU BETTER HAVE A GOOD FUCKING EXPLANATION, your friend immediately yelled at him.

For what, man ?! Marshall asked confused. What the fuck are you going on about ?

For the fucking track that got leaked last night ! Jamal yelled. Are you fucking serious ?!

Wait…, Marshall began.

Before Marshall could finish his sentence, Jamal hit him in the face. Your friend had an impressive stature and was usually a big teddy bear but, when he was furious, he was rather scary. Next thing you knew, the both of them were fighting, though, to be fair, Marshall was not putting up much of a fight. Jamal was much taller, much bigger than him. You had no choice but to get in there and try and separate them.

Jamal, let go of him ! You pleaded.

I’M GOING TO KILL YOU, YOU MOTHERFUCKER, Jamal screamed.

What the fuck, man ?! Marshall asked as he was panting.

Y/N, take your bags, Jamal directed.

What the hell ?! You asked. It’s not even 7AM, Jamal ! You don’t get to barge in her-

I’m not leaving you with that psycho, Jamal spat.

What the fuck ?! Marshall yelled. Babe, I have no idea what he’s talking about.

YOU FUCKING NAME DROPPED HER IN A TRACK, YOU PIECE OF SHIT, Jamal yelled. YOU FUCKING RAPPED ABOUT TORTURING HER !

You looked at Marshall with a confused face. His face was bruised and scraped, definitely not a pretty sight. What was most shocking, though, was the look of terror on his face.

Oh fuck, Marshall said under his breath.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #recovery fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine #eminem imagine

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glassfullofsass · 1 year

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#In James Lance I trust #Ted Lasso spoilers #What I love so much about this is there's no urgency #JL says 'yeah Trent obviously sees Ted as attractive. Trent obviously feels compelled by Ted.'#But there's no spiralling. Trent is discovering himself outside of Ted despite the fact that Ted helped him to look.#And that's so good! That's exactly what happens in the show and frankly that's the healthiest fucking way #Any of the characters grew /ended up tbh #You can have a crush on someone and not desire a relationship from that.

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thepoisonroom · 2 months

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'I flirted with the idea that instead of being trans that I was just a cross-dresser (a quirk, I thought, that could be quietly folded into an otherwise average life) and that my dysphoria was sexual in nature, and sexual only. And if my feelings were only sexual, then, I wondered, perhaps I wasn’t actually trans.

I had read about a book called The Man Who Would Be Queen, by a Northwestern University professor who believed that transwomen who were attracted to women were really confused fetishists, they wanted to be women to satisfy an autogynephilia. And though I first read about this book in the context of its debunkment and disparagement, I thought about the electricity of slipping on those tights, zipping up those boots, and a stream of guilt followed. Maybe this professor was right, and maybe I was only a fetishist. Not trans, just a misguided boy.

About a year later, on the Internet, I come across a transwoman who added a unique message to the crowd refuting this professor. Oh, I wish I remember who this woman was, and I wish even more that I could do better than paraphrase her, but I remember her saying something like this: “Well, of course I feel sexy putting on women’s clothing and having a woman’s body. If you feel comfortable in your body for the first time, won’t that probably mean it’ll be the first time you feel comfortable, too, with delighting in your body as a sexual thing?”'

-Casey Plett, Consciousness

#this quote always moves me almost to tears when i remember it #i'm not a trans woman and i don't share the author's specific experiences with transition #but it really moves me that she frame transition as joyfully giving yourself permission to approach your body #not as something that has to be disciplined and deprived and made small in all these various ways #but as a means for experiencing pleasure and joy and delight and for insisting that our feelings and desires are worth #valuing and exploring and treasuring #i always used to think of prioritizing those things for myself as selfish and irresponsible #but who does it harm to want to experience pleasure in your own body?#it's such a beautifully simple and powerful switch to have flip in your head #and equally why are we forced to deny our own pleasure in transition and anything else related to our bodies in the name of moral rectitude #this is why i get so confused and pissed off when other trans people are fatphobic for example #like why are you so invested in politics of shame and disgust that never had any purpose other than #violently disciplining people as if they've violated moral codes by existing in a body #to say nothing of white people being racist in gay and trans communities #like again this system of violence is foundational to homophobia and transphobia #so why are you acting like it has nothing to do with you #even if you are unmoved by the urgency of other people's suffering which btw you should be moved by #what do you hope to gain by acting a collaborator and handmaiden to those systems #Casey Plett #she really is one of my favorite authors i wish more non-canadians read her #this quote is from a series of columns she did ont transition and every single one is a banger #i love when she talks about the people-pleasing elements of dysphoria and transition denial #she's so sharp about noting how many of us deny our own dysphoria on the grounds that others like and validate our bodies #that's how i always felt during my cis conventionally feminine era #it pleased other people so much and also that reception felt so hollow and joyless to me because i hated it #i get less of that positive feedback but that feels so unimportant next to the joy and pleasure i get to experience #said with the understanding that i'm very privileged in being able to prioritize those things without fear. but it was a switch flip #personal nonsense

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woahjo · 17 days

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im about to say something a little emo but bear with me pls.

i genuinely am happy being single. im okay not having a partner and not doing the things. i love having me time and i love being able to devote my time entirely to myself and my friends and i KNOW that my worth isn't contingent on having a partner or not. but sometimes man, it just gets a little hard. because it's never happened for me yet and because there's a small part of me that doesn't think it ever will. it's not because i need someone else to make me feel fulfilled. i am plenty fulfilled by my own company and by my art and by my hobbies and by my friends. i just want to love, you know? i want to experience loving someone and being loved back. i want to be able to look at someone and love their eyelashes and their smile and their nose and their chin and their shape and be able to tell them that. i want to be able to imagine a future with someone. platonic love exists too and i don't think anything will be able to replace it, but i would like to experience romantic love. i want to know what it's like to care and be cared about that way. but the problem (and the nice thing i guess?) is that im not in any real rush. i'm looking, but im not devoting my time to it, nor do i feel the need to "settle" just to experience it. but it does get incredibly isolating, especially BECAUSE i don't care much about that stuff. idk how else to explain it other than isolating. it seems like everyone i meet has dated or is dating and that seems to be what people want to talk about, while i've never really done any of those things, nor do i know what its like to be cared about that way. and while im okay with the fact that it hasn't happened yet, the insecurity creeps up constantly that it never will.

im not wording properly but it's isolating. i feel very isolated in my experience with romance and dating. and while i have limited experience (strictly sexual, which i have mixed feelings about), i feel like i am too far behind for anyone to take me completely seriously. i need to move slow and it feels to me like everyone moves so fast. at least in my country/state, it feels like "sex first, talk later" and i don't want to do that. it's an isolating experience and the lack of... idk understanding (?) or maybe willingness to learn about me when dating can sometimes make me feel like maybe people think that there is nothing worth knowing or learning.

#it's just!!!! idk!!!!#im happy the way i am but it would be nice to know how it feels.. i guess #especially when so much emphasis is placed on it #i would just like to know what it feels like to be in love and to be loved back. mutual care i guess #and i already feel behind because i haven't met anyone im comfortable having sex with yet #anyway! that's my little rant #and i feel a kind of way about it #melancholy perchance #i dunno it's weird #bc i don't feel the need to rush but sometimes i am overcome with this feeling of urgency #like i need to do something about it.. or worse.. i feel like maybe it will just never happen for me #idk! anyway that's all!#cal.vent #cal.personal #delete later

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whatsnacks · 10 months

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today i and another transmasc friend of mine were harassed on public transport by a group of cishet white teenage school boys. no one helped us. we’re very visibly queer, and i’ve been presenting masc for a year, but the increase in the amount of times i’ve been yelled at, harassed, and called slurs in public over the last 6 months has been noticeable. i faced this within my previous workplace before they fired me a few months after i came out as trans (which was around when things started to get worse), but the increase is seriously concerning to me considering everything happening right now. please stay educated, please stay aware, and please stay safe.

#to top it off someone yelled jew at me from their car when i was standing outside a visibly kosher grocer #(i’m jewish for context)#kind of a vent but i also wanted to make people aware.#but honestly i dont know how much i can be an educator right now #i think i just wanted to speak about this because i want people to understand the urgency of what is happening right now.#i hate to talk about this but i am terrified and i love my trans siblings so much and i want us to live.#and to my trans siblings: i love you. you are wonderful and you deserve everything.

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falseficus · 6 months

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everybody’s always on writing prompts like “what if there was a world where everyone had a timer ticking down to their death… but you met someone whose timer said infinity!” or “what if everyone had their cause of death tattooed across their forehead… but you met someone whose forehead said THE CREATURE!” Enough -

enough. stop with the shock value. there is no need to insert THE CREATURE; the benign concept of such a world is horrifying enough. not even in urgency, but just in banal, everyday interaction. imagine you meet someone and their timer says two years. not tomorrow, not urgently soon, but two years. enough to do quite a lot. they could fall in love in that time - could they get engaged? have a baby? you might otherwise get to know them, befriend them, but perhaps you opt not to, make a conscious choice not to invest in your own grief. what balancing act would every individual person have to participate in - I have ten years, is that long enough to be a good mother to children? is that long enough to secure a caretaker for my own mother? my wife will die a few months before me. my newborn’s timer reads nineteen years.

and cause of death. you interview for a job and emblazoned across the healthy, smiling face of the HR lady is MALNUTRITION. your country is prospering, safe, but every person you meet on the street from the babies to the old women read BOMB. BOMB. what kind of havoc would fate wreak on the world? what about the loss of privacy? how would that shape our notions of hope? idk man I think a lot of those ancient poems were right, and the fates are monsters. I’m interested by the framing of these ideas as trite horror tales when the premises themselves are so much more disturbing if simply taken to their logical ends

#debated making the cause of death in the happy country also MALNUTRITION. MALNUTRITION. might have been a better specific image but these #better illustrate my point #the frog speaks #writing

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fingertipsmp3 · 5 months

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Does anyone else have a friend who will panic and call you if they don’t receive a response to their message within 15 minutes, but will regularly leave you on read or delivered or go fully MIA for days

#that’s my best friend and also my granddad #she calls me i’m like ‘fuck that i’ll call back; i’m not talking to her while i’m in a towel it feels weird’ (just got out of the shower)#2 mins later she calls again. i have a shirt on & a towel over my bottom half. i answer like ‘what? what’s the emergency?’#why does this woman say ‘you weren’t responding to my messages :(‘ i check and i’m like ‘you mean the message you sent 12 minutes ago?#i was in the shower’ ‘oh’ ‘so what’s up’ ‘do you want to go to the shop with me?’ ‘ma’am it’s 8:15pm on a sunday in december and i am mostly #wearing my pyjamas. what do you think’#i love her but she tests me every day #my granddad is so much worse actually. he’ll text me or my mom (he gets us mixed up in his messenger app. sometimes he even messages #my stepdad something that’s meant for one of us. or presumably his bowling friends as well. i think sometimes he can’t be bothered to put #his glasses on and just clicks into the most recent conversation and hopes his message will find its way to the relevant person)#then if they don’t read it & respond within… about 1-5 minutes. he calls my mom; then her landline; then me; then my stepdad #and repeats ad nauseam until someone answers their phone. he does this faster and with more dedication and urgency if it’s NOT an emergency #the most fun part of this is when i see a call come in from him; don’t manage to answer it in time; call him back and he literally doesn’t #answer because he’s either already calling someone else OR he’s abandoned his phone and walked off #and he never puts his hearing aids in and also leaves his phone on vibrate so it doesn’t ring anywhere near as loud as he needs it to #he’s also constantly leaving his phone at home. i’m like JOHN. it’s a mobile.#if i need my grandparents i literally just call their landline because if no one answers that tells me everything i need to know #which is that they are out which means my granddad either doesn’t have his phone; or has it but won’t answer it #my grandma’s hearing is fine but she has a visceral hatred of phones (she doesn’t own one) so she won’t answer it or tell him it’s ringing #so yeah. my granddad expects everyone else on the planet to be available 24/7 but refuses to make himself available an equal amount #like if you want time away from your phone just say that. i love time away from my phone #but in that same vein you also cannot get mad when i don’t answer my phone if YOU don’t answer your phone. lol #personal

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inkskinned · 11 months

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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME #there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing #and the writing is what i need to be doing #writeblr #this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to #edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol #i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!!#my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means #i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her)#hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong #i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet.#i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse #i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!!#i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO #i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness #and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it #im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us #i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer #and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art.#i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work #even if it means being miserable #but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.

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incognit0slut · 3 months

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Beyond the limit

>> Part two: the breaking point

Spencer is hesitant when you ask him to be rough, but when he realizes how much you enjoy it, he wonders just how far he can push your limit.

warnings: (MDNI, 18+) dom spence, guided/mutual masturbation, dirty talk, degradation (use of slut), orgasm control, hairpulling, choking, overstimulation, creampie, cumplay, squirting, rough sex, so many body fluids

a/n: 4k words for 4k followers! Thank you all so much, consider this as a token of my appreciation. This one is for you, I love you all ♡

Spencer considered himself as someone with a strong sense of self-control... until he found himself on top of you, right between your legs. How could he resist when your body felt so soft against his? When all his restraint seemed to vanish into thin air?

He had you pinned against the bed, his palms tracing your hips before moving to your breast. You moaned out his name as your nipples hardened against the thin material of your shirt—his shirt, to be exact. After all, it was how it all started.

The moment he was greeted by the view of your perfect ass when he came home from work, barely covered by his shirt you were wearing, something in him snapped. You looked so damn good, so damn tempting, practically begging to be touched.

It didn’t take long for him to discard his bag onto the floor before scooping you in his arms. You simply giggled, amused at his sudden urgency yet eagerly welcoming it as he led you into your shared bedroom.

Now he was right between your thighs, pressing his hard erection right against your panties. You could feel yourself getting wet by the friction and you found yourself parting your legs even further, grinding your hips along with his as his mouth continued to suck on the spot right below your ear.

Anytime you whimpered, he gripped you tighter, and your shaky hands clutched onto button-down shirt. There was something about him still dressed in his work clothes while you were nearly half-naked, his shirt bunched around your waist, leaving your lower half exposed. And you liked it. It made you feel vulnerable being pressed under him like this, sparking a strange desire to submit to him completely.

And now you craved more. You wanted to surrender to him, to let him take the lead. But to your dismay, his movements suddenly slowed down, leaving you momentarily confused because you could feel the way he was holding back. His hands were trembling against your body as if he was consciously avoiding being rough.

You slid your hands up to his chest, lightly pushing him away and he quickly drew back. His brows furrowed as he gazed down at you. "What is it? Did I do something wrong?"

Shaking your head, you reassured him. "No," you replied softly. "But... you don't have to hold yourself back for my sake, you know.”

His eyes narrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

You took a deep breath, searching for the right words. "I mean, I know you're trying to be careful, but... I want you to take control, without holding back. I want... more.”

A flicker of surprise crossed his features. "You want me to... be rough?" he asked cautiously.

You nodded, a flush creeping up your cheeks. "I do."

"But I- I don't want to hurt you."

You reached out, cupping his cheek tenderly. "I trust you, Spence. I trust us. And I want you to trust yourself too."

His expression softened under your touch. You took it as enough of a sign to push forward as your thumb swept back and forth across his jaw.

"If it's too much I'll tell you," you assured him.

He searched your eyes for a moment, uncertainty flickering within his gaze. "What if I hurt you?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

You bit your lip, studying his face for a moment before responding. "I think I'll like it if you do," you confessed, your cheeks flushing slightly. "But we don't have to do anything crazy you're not comfortable with. We don't necessarily have to do something you don't want to."

Spencer swallowed hard, processing your words. "So what do you want then?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your hand slid up the length of his jaw until your fingers slipped into his hair. Very carefully you gripped a handful of his curly strands in your fist. "Do whatever you want, baby," you answered. "Mark my skin. Pull my hair. Talk me through it."

You noticed the way his lips twitched at your words and you smiled.

"Fuck me hard," you demanded boldly.

His breath hitched as he searched your eyes. He definitely wanted to do those things, too. When he finally relaxed into your touch, a rush of anticipation surged through you, your heart beating rapidly.

"Are you sure?" he asked slowly.

You nodded, gripping his hair a bit harder, enjoying the way his breathing grew shallower. "Please," you whispered, your voice filled with desire.

With a barely audible groan, Spencer gave in to your request, his resolve melting away as his lips crashed against yours. Your pulse sped up excitedly in your chest in response—this was exactly what you wanted. That pure, raw desire that was too strong for him to contain. When he finally pulled away, he was breathing even heavier now, his shoulders heaving with each audible inhale.

"If we're going to do this, we'll do it my way," he declared firmly. "You will listen to me, understood?"

You nodded, feeling a shiver of anticipation run down your spine at the commanding tone of his voice. "Yes," you replied breathlessly.

And just when you thought he was about to delve into another kiss, he surprised you by pulling away. He sat back, his eyes narrowing as he focused on you. "Sit up and lean back on the pillow," he commanded.

Your heart raced as you complied, eagerly following his lead.

"Take off the shirt... leave your panties on."

You followed, leaning forward, your fingers grabbing the hem of your shirt before pulling it off your body, revealing your soft-looking skin to his eyes. His predatory gaze was locked on your breasts, noticing the way your nipples hardened as the cold air brushed your skin. When you leaned back again, he dragged the tips of his fingers up your thighs, gripping your waist for a moment before another demand left his lips.

"Spread your pretty legs," his soothing voice told you, staring intently between your thighs. You did as you were told, parting your knees, your feet propped up on the bed as you waited with bated breath for his next instruction, feeling yourself throb behind the drenched fabric.

"Now touch yourself." You gulped at his tone, sliding your fingers inside your panties. He suddenly called out your name in a warning, his voice alone stopping your hand in its tracks. "Over your panties, I'll tell you when to touch yourself directly."

You nodded, letting your fingers hover over the fabric of your panties. You let out a gasp when you felt how drenched you were before you found your clit. You were hyperaware of every movement you were making, you realized, and it turned you on way more than it should. You choked on your next moan, squeezing your eyes shut as felt the sensation growing along your body.

You suddenly felt a hand gripping your jaw and you quickly opened your eyes, greeted by him staring down at you. "Keep your eyes on me."

There was nothing else for you to do but to oblige. Your fingers continued to press down your clit, swirling around the sensitive bud desperately as he released his hold on your jaw before trailing down your chest, teasing your aching nipples. You whimpered and watched as his eyes traveled down your body.

Spencer hungrily took in the way your legs were spread apart before him, the way you were touching yourself so eagerly. Your fingers moved rapidly over your panties, the material now too drenched as it slipped between your folds every time you moved. Your pussy was barely covered and he could see your arousal dripping down your legs.

"Look at you," he mused, his hand traveling down your body, resting slightly at the inner part of your thigh. "You like putting on a little show, don't you?"

Your breaths came out in shallow, eager gasps, but when you attempted to increase your pace, he quickly shook his head. "Slower. We don't want to rush."

You complied, adjusting your movements to match his pace, and he rewarded you with a smile. "That's it. Nice and slow," he praised, his gaze locked on yours with intensity.

Through hooded eyes, you watched as he began to undress, each deliberate movement teasingly slow. His tie came first, followed by his shirt which he discarded carelessly onto the floor. His pants followed suit, and when he was completely naked, your eyes hungrily drank in the sight of his exposed body.

Your fingers on your own body slowed down as you took in the sight before you, the way he slowly gripped the base of his cock before squeezing it hard.

"Don't you stop, I didn't tell you to stop," he reminded you, his voice firm.

With a sharp inhale, you resumed your movements, the urgency returning as you focused on pleasuring yourself under his watchful gaze. Then as if to taunt you, he began pumping his length slow and steady as your eyes focused in on the motions.

"S-Spence," you whined, pushing your hips faster against your hand, trying to keep your rhythm in check though the sight of him pleasuring himself had you so weak in the moment. "I- I wanna take my panties off."

He gripped his cock tighter, working his fist quicker along the length as his breaths deepened. "Yeah? You wanna see how wet you are?"

His words sent a surge of warmth through your body, spreading from between your thighs to your cheeks as your fingers quickened in pace and your legs spread further for him to see. "Yes-yes- please," you begged.

"Such a desperate slut," he muttered. His crude words shouldn't have brought you pleasure, but they did, and your tight walls clenched around nothing. He noticed the effect it had on you and smiled. "You liked that, huh? You liked being called a slut?"

You gulped, your fingers moving faster. "Y-Yes."

He simply hummed in response, snaking his hands between you, finally slipping off your panties down your legs. His fingers then gripped the soft plush of your thigh, spreading you open for him, exposing your cunt to the open air as he massaged soothing shapes into your skin.

He sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth, taking in the mess between your legs. His gaze traveled your stomach, up to your perky breasts, before meeting your half-lidded eyes. He then slowly took your hand and your jaw slacked open when he abruptly sucked your fingers into his mouth.

His tongue felt hot, searingly so, as he laves over the pads of your middle and ring fingers, then dipped between them to caress your knuckles down to where they meet. A wave of heat traveled through you as he held your gaze, licking off your fingers one last time before guiding them back between your thighs.

"Keep going," he instructed, and you wasted no time in rubbing your clit feverishly. Your face twisted with pleasure, brow wrinkled, body tense, and each circle around your sensitive flesh brought you closer to the edge. The bedroom was filled with the sounds of crisp, rustling sheets underneath you and the slick motions of your fingers roaming your folds.

"Do you hear that? You're getting so loud. So wet," he gritted out. His eyes flickered up to your face, observing the delicate scrunch of your nose and your parted lips. "You're close, aren't you?"

You looked over to him. The view of his hand gripping his cock drew you so close to the edge you were balancing on, all the while attempting to feign control to give him the show he requested.

"Y- Yes," you admitted breathlessly, your body trembling with need.

He hummed a reply, soothing your thigh with his other hand. "Be a good girl and beg for it."

A choked whine escaped your lips.

"P-Please, let me come," you pleaded, the desperation evident in your voice as you sought his permission to release the tension coiling in your stomach.

"Ask nicely," he said, his tone firm yet encouraging. "Can I what?"

"Can I... I-I come?" you stammered, your eyes fluttering close, fingers moving rapidly on your clit.

"Look at me. Ask again."

Your eyes flickered open, meeting his intense gaze. "Can I-I come?" you begged, the desperation in your voice echoing your urgent desire.

"I can't hear you."

A moan ripped out of you, your body shaking uncontrollably under his gaze. Tears threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes as you struggled to hold on. "P-Please," you pleaded, your voice trembling with need. "Please let me come, I-I can't hold on much longer..."

"Louder," he demanded, his voice cutting through the haze of your desire, and that was when everything snapped. It was no longer a plea; instead, you were babbling incoherent words, unable to contain the overwhelming need coursing through your body.

"I-I'm s-sorry, I-I can't—" you cried, your voice strained with the effort of holding back.

But it was too late. Your resolve shattered, overwhelmed by the intensity of your desire. With a tear falling down your cheek, you locked eyes with him desperately as your climax crashed over you, consuming you entirely in its wave of ecstasy. It crept up on you, a gentle crescendo that abruptly peaked before slamming right into you.

Something in him snapped. Spencer never imagined he would enjoy having this much control over your body, but in this moment, he did. It was twisted, and although a hint of remorse flickered within him, his desire overpowered any sense of guilt.

Even as your body trembled uncontrollably from the intensity of your orgasm, he acted on impulse, flipping you over to lie on your stomach. The shift in position only fueled his desire further, igniting a primal need to dominate and possess you completely.

A moment later his hand came down on your ass with a sharp smack that drew a gasp out of you. He then crawled over you as his knees landed on either side of your thighs, the mattress bowing under his weight. Both of his hands dropped roughly down onto your ass, kneading the soft flesh.

You felt him lining his cock up with your entrance, your eyes closing in anticipation of him filling you. And then he plunged himself into you in one swift, sharp thrust which had your head dropping down into your pillow, burying your face in it as you tried to muffle the cry of pleasure that flew out of you.

He began pumping into you, his pace was slow at first, long strokes of drawing his cock out and back in earning quiet whimpers from you against the pillow. One of his hands released your hip before you felt him grabbing a fistful of your hair, just at the base of your skull, and sharply pulling.

"Stop burying yourself," he grunted. "Let me hear those pretty sounds."

You let out a moan, body shaking with every thrust of his hips, the room spinning as he picked up his pace. You felt the slow withdrawal of his cock as his hips drew back from you, but you weren't prepared for the way he rammed himself swiftly forward into you seconds after while tightening his grip on your hair.

A high-pitched, breathy noise of pleasure tore out of you at the feel of it. Encouraged, he repeated the gesture, the tug on your hair even rougher. You moaned loudly in response, your hips beginning to eagerly press backward into him as he brutally fucked you into the mattress.

"That's my girl," he praised. "Just like that, let me hear how good my cock makes you feel."

Your eyelids grew heavy under the weight of his words, your mouth going slack. Spencer was as loud as you as he repeatedly buried his cock in you over and over again. It didn't take long before his vicious thrusts had your eyes rolling back behind closed lids, your mind going entirely blank to everything but this very moment.

He then lowered onto his left forearm as his front molded over your back. The hard, solid feel of him behind you had you pressing back up into him, teeth gritting together as his cock buried itself somehow further inside of you. He released his grip on your hair, his hand swiftly moving to encircle your throat.

A moan escaped your lips as you felt the slight pressure of his grip, a surge of arousal coursing through you. His hand slid up further, encircling the bottom of your jaw as he carefully pulled your head backward, drawing it towards his shoulder until his mouth was beside your ear.

"Is this what you wanted?" Your breath hitched at his proximity, the heat of his body searing against your back as you struggled to form a coherent response. You could only manage a breathless nod in response.

"Let's see how far I can ruin you," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper that sent a thrill through you despite the underlying threat in his words.

As his grip on your throat tightened ever so slightly, you couldn't suppress the moan that escaped your lips, surrendering completely as he picked up his pace, his hips rocking more rapidly into you. You were panting hard, your head tilted back against his shoulder.

His lips pressed onto the sensitive spot just between your shoulder and your neck, sucking on the skin while he mercilessly fucked you, his sweat-slicked body still flush to the back of you as he continued his fast, relentless pace. You were vaguely aware of his ragged, drawn-out groan and you could tell he was close.

It was evident in the way he was starting to lose control, his grip tightening around your throat as his breath grew hot and heavy against you. He was on the brink of spiraling, and you welcomed it, giving yourself over completely to please him.

"T-That's it, baby," you moaned. "You fuck me so good."

It was enough to make him come undone. He released inside of you, panting and huffing as he gave into the bliss. His motions slowed but he continued spilling inside your drenched walls, sweat beading against his forehead, lips parted, and face flushed. You squeezed yourself around him just to hear him suck in a sharp breath, gulping and exhaling with his brow wrinkled before he pulled out.

But when you thought he was done with you, he flipped you onto your back again. You were so wonderfully disheveled, your cunt clenching around nothing, gleaming with your arousal and his own release. He ran his fingers over your outer lips, spreading you open to have a better view of the white liquid trickling down your ass. He was quick to collect it with his fingers, tracing it up your folds so he could messily rub it over your clit.

"S-Spence..."

Spencer was known for his aversion to getting dirty, yet he didn't mind the mess he made between your legs. "You should see yourself," he muttered. "You're so pretty like this."

And then to your surprise, he positioned the tip of his cock right at your entrance again. You gasped, prompting yourself on your elbows as you looked down between your legs, wondering how on earth he was still so hard. Then a moan left your lips as you watched him slowly sinking into you again.

"Look at how I'm stretching you," he murmured, pushing his hips further. Both of your eyes were locked on the way your pussy stretched so wide around his girth. His previous release slipped back inside you every time his cock disappeared into your wet cunt, white cream coating around his length.

He moaned when your walls clenched around him, his eyes flickering between your face and the way his cock was stretching you. Spencer should have stopped. You were both too tired and too sensitive to continue further. Even his body ached with exhaustion, but he couldn't stop himself from thrusting forward as your walls swallowed his cock eagerly, practically begging for more.

The rational part of his brain urged him to pause, but the primal, carnal desire within him overrode any sense of restraint. Ignoring the way your body shook with exhaustion and the tension in his own muscles, he focused solely on the intense heat between your legs. So he continued to fuck you.

He was fucking you to the point where you couldn't even moan anymore, your voice caught in your throat with each thrust. He was fucking you so good there were tears in your eyes but you couldn't whimper or blink, you were just staring up at him, wordless and in awe, nails digging in his arms while your knees brushed up close to your shoulders.

He was fucking you roughly, dipping down every so often to press his lips to yours, the times he was not whispering encouragement, telling you how pretty you look, how wet you were, how much of a slut you were, and good you felt wrapped around him. And you could feel it, you could feel how good you were as your walls clamped down, sucking him in.

He thrust into you ruthlessly, consumed by a primal need to push you to your limits, to explore just how much you could take of him. Then when you felt that coil spreading along your limbs, you finally came without saying a word. But he didn't stop, continuing to fuck you into your next orgasm, and even when the sensation began to feel too overwhelming, he abused your clit with his thumb.

That was when everything blurred. The overwhelming pleasure finally consumed you entirely, rendering rational thought as a surge of liquid gushed out between your legs. He moaned in surprise at the sensation, his desire only fueled further by your response.

"Do that again," he begged, his voice husky with need as he continued to roll his hips into you. And you did, another wave of pleasure crashing over you as you drenched everything around you—his body, the sheets, every surface within reach. He moaned again, acutely aware of the mess you created.

Your grip on him slowly loosened and a pang of guilt hit him as he realized your body was already exhausted. Yet he couldn't resist the urge to use you once more. Your silence urged him to continue, thrusting into you relentlessly, your slicked-sweat skin sliding against his as he chased his second orgasm of the night.

He finally came with a grunt, his hips pumping into you with desperation, once, twice, before finally stilling. You cried out at the sensation, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all—the quickening of his breath, the hard grip of his hand on your skin, the throbbing ache between your legs.

Your vision suddenly became a hazy blur, and you gasped for breath, struggling to anchor yourself amidst the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. Despite your shaking form, Spencer managed to pull you into his embrace.

“I-I got you," he whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of emotions as the rush of dominance that had driven him moments ago was replaced by a wave of panic. He continued to hold you close, his arms wrapped around you protectively as he whispered soothing words into your ear.

You focused on controlling your breathing, inhaling and exhaling slowly as you sought to regain your composure. Gradually, the haze began to lift, and after a moment passed, you found yourself able to see clearly once again. Your eyes traveled to him, and with a tired and sleepy smile, you leaned into his touch.

Spencer released a breath he wasn't aware of holding. "We are never doing that again."

"What? Why?" you asked, confusion evident in your voice.

"You scared me!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with both relief and exasperation. "What if you passed out? What if I had to take you to the hospital and—and explain that—"

"That I passed out because your dick was too good?"

He shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You're impossible," he teased, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You grinned up at him, feeling a warmth spread through you at his affectionate gesture. "But you love me anyway."

His smile softened as he gazed down at you. "I do."

"And I love you," you assured him. "Don't worry, I'm alright. And be honest with me, you seriously don't want to do that again? Wasn't that hot?"

His cheeks flushed slightly at your question, and he hesitated for a moment before meeting your gaze. "It was..." he began, his voice trailing off as he searched for the right words. "Intense," he finally admitted, a hint of uncertainty in his tone. "But maybe we should take it slow next time."

"Spencer, you were the one that kept going."

He gave you a sheepish smile. "I guess I got carried away a little," he admitted, a touch of embarrassment coloring his tone.

“A little?”

“Fine, more than a little,” he confessed. “But you didn't stop me either."

"That's because I was enjoying myself."

His embarrassment faded into amusement. "You're going to be the death of me one day, you know that?"

You grinned playfully at his remark. "Only if you're lucky," you teased, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head fondly as he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. He studied you, taking in the warmth in your eyes and the happy but serene smile that graced your lips as a surge of affection washed over him. "Then I must be the luckiest man alive."

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