Pedro’s Right knee

Kyla Gen X survivingandenduring since 1971 Female Bi just here sharing my love of Pedro Pascal https://www.tiktok.com/@enduringandsurviving

[wheresarizona]

he feels like home

summary: All Joel Miller wanted was a cake from you, the town baker. All you wanted in return were a few items and to have a drink with him. Now, you’re naked in your bedroom, sitting on his face, getting eaten out like you’re the first real meal he’s had in years. 

“Then ask me for what you really want.” 

“You wanna come in and fuck me?” 

“Only if you’ll let me take you out on a date tomorrow. I don’t do that casual, fuck buddy shit. You’re either mine, or nothin’ at all.”

pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader

rating: E (18+!!! No y/n, porn with some plot, explicit smut, Possessive Joel Miller, big-juicy-legal age gap, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, oral sex (f & m receiving), face sitting, woman on top, rough sex (arms pinned behind back, face shoved against bed), begging, dirty talk (so much), praise (a ton), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, breast worship, aftercare, reader is a lil bratty, feelings, pregnancy mention, Good Parent Joel Miller, sneaking around)

word count: 13.3k+ 

a/n: Hi! I missed Joel a lot, and as soon as he traded Legos for a cake, my ass was typing out this fic idea. I hope you enjoy my horny fever dream! Note: Halican Drops is a fake band. Sarah wears their band t-shirt in the first episode. I headcanon that they sound like Joan Jett & the Blackhearts. Title from "long story short" by Taylor Swift. Shoutout to @devineconjuring for betaing! 

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Part 2 - Masterlist

It’s a Tuesday in Spring, the sun due to set in the coming hour. The temperatures outside have begun to warm up, melting some of the snow high in the mountains. You’d already completed your shifts for the day in the community kitchen, assisting with making breakfast and preparing for lunch and dinner, which a majority of Jackson ate in the mess hall—you didn’t, instead opting to enjoy your food in the comfort of your apartment. With your evening meal finished and your dishes washed, you’re sitting on the couch in your living room listening to the soft tune of Nirvana playing on your record player—a new addition to your collection, their MTV Unplugged in New York album from ‘94—while darning the holes in all of your socks. There are two piles on the coffee table in front of you, one for the hole-y and the other for the now holeless. 

A knock on your front door has you pausing, your eyebrows furrowing. You’re not expecting anyone tonight, as indicated by the oversized David Bowie concert t-shirt, lack of bra, and black leggings you’re wearing. “Coming!” you announce, leaning forward to set the sock and yarn on the tabletop before getting up and walking the short distance to the door. Turning the doorknob, you crack it open enough to see who’s there. To your surprise, it’s that handsome older gentleman who arrived in town a couple of months ago, whom you haven’t had the opportunity to introduce yourself to, but have definitely ogled. How could you not with how his flannels always hugged his broad shoulders and how good his jeans made his ass look. You take in what he’s wearing today—a red flannel shirt with dark denim on his bottom half. Your eyes meet his. “Can I help you?” you ask. 

He gives you a sheepish smile that’s honestly adorable on such a rugged face. “I’m sorry for botherin’ you, ma’am. My name is Joel. Joel Miller, Tommy’s brother? I’ve been in Jackson a little while now, and I was told you’re the person to talk to if I’m in need of a cake.” 

“Oh!” You open your door wider. “Yes, that’s me!” Quickly, you give him your name and offer your hand for him to shake, noticing immediately how much bigger his is when it practically engulfs your smaller one. It has your mind wandering, wondering what it’d feel like on other parts of your body. That thought heats your skin, and you feel a little disappointed when he lets go. “What kind of cake are you needing?” 

“A birthday cake.” 

“For your wife, or girlfriend?” 

“No.” He shakes his head. “For my dau—kid,” he catches himself. 

You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms over your chest, and you see his split-second glance at your breasts. You smile. “For your kid, who’s not your daughter.” 

He sighs, his hands going to his hips. “It’s… complicated.” 

“You adopt her?” 

“Yeah.” 

It was pretty common for people to take in orphaned children, especially here in town. As sad as it was, there have been instances of kids losing their parents or guardians on their way to Jackson who still managed to make it to the town’s walls, or who were found by patrols and brought in. Luckily, there was an abundance of couples and families willing to foster or adopt the children. 

“How old is she turning?” 

“Fifteen.” 

“Got yourself a teen. How long has she been in your care?” 

“Seven, eight months.” 

“Ah, I understand the not-daughter thing now.” His kid is older, and their relationship is still relatively new. They’ve probably bonded but aren’t comfortable using father-daughter labels yet. “Just you and her?” 

“Yeah.” 

He’s single. That’s good to know. 

“It’s sweet that you want her to have a cake for her birthday.” 

He smiles fondly. “It’s her first.” 

Handsome, polite, and loves his adopted child as if she were his own? He’s perfect, and it’s surprising no one has taken him off the market yet. Maybe you should shoot your shot. There aren’t a lot of guys like him in Jackson, and it wouldn’t hurt to try. 

“That’s even sweeter,” you reply. “What’s her name?” 

“Ellie.” 

“A great name—simple and lovely. The last cake I made was for this woman’s husband, named Reginald. Do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to spell out, ‘Happy Birthday, Reginald,’ on a cake the size of a small dinner plate?” 

He looks amused. “Pretty hard?” 

“Pretty fucking hard, Joel. I made it work, though, squishing the letters together. Do you have a preference if it’s chocolate or vanilla?” 

“Uh, chocolate, I guess?” 

“Okay, and when do you need it done by?” 

“The day after tomorrow.” 

“Short notice and chocolate—that’s gonna cost you extra.” 

“That won’t be a problem. I used to be a smuggler. I can find somethin’ you’d want.” That’s how you’re paid, by bartering, goods, or favors. 

“A smuggler, huh? If you don’t mind me asking, where are you from? Aside from Texas, I know Tommy’s a Texan.” 

“Boston. The QZ out there.”

“Doing your smuggling, I assume?” 

“Yes.” 

“You’re not a chatty guy, are you?” 

He huffs out a breath, looking down at his boots. “No, ma’am. I don’t have much to chat about.” His eyes land on yours again.  

“That’s not true. You came all the way here from fucking Boston. You could tell me about your travels, Ellie, or hell, we could reminisce about the days before the world ended.” 

He smiles, his weight shifting to one side. “Were you even alive back then?” 

“I was.” 

“You had to be young. A kid.” 

“Yeah. Doesn’t mean I don’t remember the comic strips in the Sunday newspaper and how good fresh McDonald’s fries were.” 

His eyebrows rise almost to his hairline. “Wow, I haven’t thought about McDonald’s in years.” 

“What I’d give for some McNuggets and an apple pie.” 

“Did you get some of the apple pie at dinner tonight?” 

You smile. “I made the apple pie at dinner tonight.” 

He matches your expression. “Did you? That tells me the cake is gonna be really fuckin’ good, then.” 

The compliment makes you preen. “Thank you. My mom taught me how to bake before, you know.” The outbreak. “We had this old family recipe for peach pie that always won first place at the county fair.” 

“If it was anythin’ like the pie tonight, I can see why.” 

“Stop that,” you tease, waving away his words. “Flattery will get you everywhere.” 

His eyes dart away, clearing his throat. It must have been a while since he was last flirted with. He focuses on you again, changing the subject. “So, what kind of stuff do you want?” 

“Ummm, let’s see. It’s her first cake, you’re a sweetheart, and I have all of the ingredients. How about records, movies, and booze?” Easy stuff for him to get. It’s basically the equivalent of a half-off discount. “Oh, and socks!” Yours have seen better days. 

“Any records or movies? You’re not lookin’ for anythin’ specific?”

“Nope.” Any duplicates you receive, you’ll trade.

“What about alcohol?”  

“I’m not picky. Whatever you have will do.” All that matters is that it’s safe to consume. Liquor is a hot commodity and a valuable bargaining tool. 

“Okay.” He nods. “That’s not too bad. I appreciate you for bein’ so kind to me. I’ll have it all to you tomorrow.” 

“Great! But there’s something else I want, too.”

His eyes narrow slightly, and he frowns. He thinks you’re trying to pull one over on him. “What else?” 

“I’d like to have a drink with you.”

When every day could possibly be your last, there’s no point in playing coy. You’re going to go after what you want, unashamed. 

Surprise shows on his face, clearly taken aback. “You want to have a drink with me…?” he says the words slowly, like he almost doesn’t believe them. 

“Yes, I want to have a drink with you, Joel.” 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know. Why would a woman want to have a drink with you?” 

He frowns. “It can’t be for the reason I’m thinkin’.”

“If you thought it’s to get to know you better because I’m interested in you, that is correct.” 

That just makes him look confused. “Me? You know I’m old, right? Shit, I’m probably older than your parents.” 

Your eyebrow lifts. “And? You’re an adult. I’m an adult. What does your age have to do with anything?” 

His arms cross over his chest. “A lot, sweetheart. I don’t think you know what you’re askin’ for. I’m not a young buck anymore. I don’t have the energy of a boy your age. I’m old and broken. My fuckin’ ear doesn’t even work.” He points at the right one.

“So, you’ve got some wear and tear. I don’t care. I still want to have a drink with you. But hey, if you’re uncomfortable with that, then don’t worry about it. I’ll, of course, still make Ellie her cake for the stuff we agreed on.” 

“It’s not that I’m uncomfortable. I’m flattered, really. I’m just havin’ a hard time understandin’ why you’re interested in someone as old as me. There’s gotta be guys closer to your age around here that’d love to have a drink with you. What I mean is you’re beautiful, and I know you can do a lot better than me.”  

You smile. “You think I’m beautiful?”

“Yes.” He nods. “But that’s beside the point.” 

“Have you thought that maybe I like that you’re so much older than me?”

He stands up straighter, his interest piqued. “You got a thing for older men?” 

“Now you’re getting it. I do have standards, so it depends on the man in question. In your case, you check all my boxes.” 

His expression shows his curiosity. “What are you lookin’ for?” 

“Someone caring, pleasant to talk to, not creepy, easy on the eyes, can hold their own, and fifties preferred; I’m willing to dip into the late forties if I have to.” 

“Why is fifties preferred?” 

“You really wanna know?” 

“Yeah, I do.” 

“Okay. Men your age are great in bed, it’s as simple as that.”

“What makes them great?” 

“You wanna know for later?” 

You’re rewarded with a flirty little smirk. “Maybe.” 

His answer thrills you. “Maybe, huh? I’ve found them to be very generous, and they seem to care that I’m having a good time, too, which is fantastic. They’re also the only ones who’ve ever gone down on me. The guys my age are always in a rush and generally care more about themselves than me. It sucks. So, men in their fifties are my preference.” 

The explanation has his dark eyes getting even darker. Now that he’s aware of the extent of your interest in him, there’s a palpable shift between you, and it becomes clear that the attraction is mutual. 

“And you’re not seein’ anyone currently…?”

“No. I’m single and very available, especially to you. Now do you wanna come in for a drink?” you ask, the door squealing as you push it open even more. 

There’s no hiding that he’s contemplating your offer; it’s there on his face, probably warring with himself over the morality of the situation, and you get it. Given the significant age difference, there are many things he could be worrying about, which he needs to weigh the pros and cons of. At least it’s reassuring that he seems to have a conscience. You’re just hoping he chooses to give in to his desires. 

It’s seconds later that he’s made his decision. 

“No use in fightin’ it,” he says under his breath. 

Joel sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy when he takes a step toward you, his hand going up onto the doorframe above your head. He leans in close, your faces only an inch apart, and you gulp at the proximity. “Only a drink?” he rasps. “Is that really all you want, sweetheart?” His eyes keep jumping from your eyeline to your mouth like it’s taking a lot for him not to kiss you. 

“No,” you breathe. 

“No, it’s not. Tell the truth. What do you want?”

“You.” 

Excitement burns low in your belly. You can’t believe this is actually happening. You figured he might be okay with having a drink with you, but this? This is definitely better.

“Then ask me for what you really want.” 

“You wanna come in and fuck me?” 

“Only if you’ll let me take you out on a date tomorrow. I don’t do that casual, fuck buddy shit. You’re either mine, or nothin’ at all.”

A shiver moves down your spine, your heart pounding so hard you think it might beat right out of your chest. From that declaration, and his confidence, you know he’s got a big dick. Better yet, you’re almost positive he knows how to use it, too. 

“Yes, I’ll go out with you, but I’m not yours until you show me why I should be.”

He smirks. “Is that right?” 

“Yep,” you answer. Your palm presses to the front of his jeans, over his hardening cock, which you’re happy to find is rather sizeable. 

It delights you how his eyes close, and he groans, “Fuck.” When they open again, there’s only the tiniest sliver of brown circling his blown pupils. “You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me.” 

“Not up for the challenge?” 

Joel growls, his lips suddenly on yours, kissing you hard. A surprised sound leaves your throat, but you’re quick to kiss him back, matching his fervor as you grab fistfuls of his shirt, tugging him into your house. His large hand is on your ass, the other shoving your front door closed before its cupping your cheek. Neither of you wants the kiss to end, your mouths staying fused as you walk backward until you bump into the arm of your couch. This is when you spin him, getting him around to the front of the sofa. You break apart as you push him, Joel falling back onto the cushions with a heavy, breathless thump. 

Dust floats in a patch of evening light behind him as you stand there, your pulse hammering in your rib cage, your lips tingling. This man with lines etched into his face, carving out the years of grit, survival, and untold grief—no one is lucky enough to make it as far as he has without losses—he’s looking up at you like you’re the first beautiful thing he’s seen in a long, long time. 

It’s electric and heavy all at once, like standing on the edge of something dangerous and good. What are you to do but jump headfirst into the abyss that has the potential to ruin you for anyone else?

“You’re gorgeous,” he says, ending the silence. “C’mere, baby.” He holds out his arms to you, and you’re like a moth to a flame—drawn to him, crawling into his lap without another word. Straddling his thighs, you take his stubbled cheeks into your palms and kiss him once more. He moans into your mouth, his big hands grabbing onto your ass, encouraging you to grind against the straining length in his jeans, the friction to your clit stoking the arousal in your center. 

It shouldn’t be a surprise that he’s not in a hurry to get you naked. He’s more interested in kissing you, delving his tongue between your lips to tangle with your own. It makes you assume he hasn’t been with a woman in quite a while, and he’s taking his time, luxuriating in your affections. 

It goes on and on, until you hit a point where you need to come up for air, your mouth coming off of his to draw in a deep breath. He pants, kissing your chin and the underside of your jaw. 

His hands go still. “Can I take your shirt off?” he asks, pulling back to look at your face. His lips are reddened and shiny from spit, his cheeks tinted in a pink flush.

You smile, your fingertips sliding through the hair above his ears. “Only if you take off yours, too.” 

“Okay.” 

He doesn’t waste time. Joel grips the hem of your t-shirt, tugging it up and off your raised arms, letting it fall onto the floor. Your fingers start unbuttoning his flannel, while his attention is on your bared breasts that he caresses, his thumbs sweeping across the soft skin, your nipples tightening.

The last button is undone. “Off,” you order, pushing open his shirt. He sighs at being interrupted, but he does as you say, sitting up in his seat, jostling you as he shrugs off his flannel, the garment meeting the same fate as your t-shirt. 

There’s no time for you to admire the newly revealed skin; he’s zeroed in on your tits again, his hands squeezing them gently, weighing them in his palms. It’s hard not to laugh when he shoves his prickly face into the pillowy mounds and happily sighs. You’re not sure if he’s enjoying your softness again or if he’s a boob guy. Maybe it’s both. You are, however, pretty sure he’s in heaven, and good for him. He can have this moment. Your arms are around his neck, with your fingers pressed into the brown waves on his head.

He kisses along the side of your breast, and you’re gasping at him sucking your pebbled nipple into the warmth of his mouth. It sends a shock of pleasure straight to your clit, making you squirm in his lap. “Yes,” you moan as he swirls his tongue around the hard bud. He moves to give your other breast the same treatment, a shiver rolling through you when cold air hits the saliva left behind on your skin. 

Wetness pools between your thighs, your cunt aching, pulsing with need. Joel pulls off your stiff nipple with an audible pop, lifting his head to meet your eyes, his gaze heavy, pupils blown. His voice dips into something rough and hungry. “If I’m not mistaken, you like your pussy eaten?” 

“I love it.”

“Thank Christ, ‘cause I fuckin’ love eatin’ it, and it’s been too damn long since I’ve gotten a taste.”

His eagerness has heat sizzling in your veins. “Well, how about we change that?” You get up to stand in front of him. “Lose the boots.” 

He smiles. “Yes, ma’am.” He grunts as he leans forward, quickly untying and taking off the worn leather boots that he puts neatly paired on the floor next to him. His socks look a lot better than yours—one of the perks of being a smuggler and knowing where to find things. 

You stick out your hand to him. “Let’s go, handsome. We’re taking this to the bedroom.” 

“I like the sound of that.” He accepts your palm, and you pull as he rises up onto his feet with a pained groan. “Will be better for my back.”

With Joel hot on your heels, you lead him out of the living room and through the kitchen to the hallway, down to the end where your bedroom is. Crawling onto your queen-size bed, he follows and has you squeaking in surprise when he roughly tugs your leggings off your lower half, causing you to fall onto your stomach. He easily manhandles you onto your back, giving you a glimpse of his strength. You find yourself lying there with your head cushioned on a pillow, Joel kneeling between your legs. 

It catches you off guard how he looks down at you, as if he’s seeing something sacred. There’s awe there that he barely hides. Reverence. It takes your breath away that, once again, it’s written on his face that he thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s seen in a very, very long time. 

His hands smooth up your thighs. “Today is my lucky day,” he murmurs, voice thick with want. “Just look at you.” He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, dragging them down and off, tossing them to the floor. “Fuckin’ perfection laid out for me. Look at that pretty little pussy.” With two fingers, he spreads open your slick folds, his hot gaze locked on your cunt. “You’re gonna taste so fuckin’ good.” His tongue wets his lips like he’s imagining it. “I wanna fuckin’ drown in it.”

A sharp jolt of excitement shoots through your core, clenching hard with anticipation. You’re expecting him to dive in, tongue first. What you are not anticipating is Joel leaning up, wrapping an arm around your waist, and rolling you on top of him to have you straddle his stomach. 

Your eyebrows pull together, blinking down at him with your hands on his chest. “I thought you were eating me out…?” 

He smiles. “I am. Maybe not the way you’re expectin’, though. You ever ride someone’s face?” 

Your stomach flips. “No?” 

“Well, looks like today is your lucky day, too.” His biceps flex as he guides your hips up toward his head. “Get up here, baby.”

You grab the wooden headboard to steady yourself, your heart racing, nerves twisting in your gut. You want it—you want it so fucking bad, but your brain won’t stop worrying about the logistics. Or the potential body count of one extremely hot older man. 

He gets you to settle over his face, your thighs bracketing his ears. “How do I do this without, you know, killing you?” you ask. 

His voice is muffled beneath you. “Just sit on my face. All of your weight. I wanna feel it.”

He wants you to smother him with your pussy?

“Joel, babe, I like you, and I want to see where this goes, but that can’t happen if I suffocate you.”

“Suffocatin’ between your thighs would be the best way to leave this world.” 

Considering the alternatives of getting bitten by infected or murdered by fellow humans, he isn’t wrong that dying while doing something you love is the best way to go out.

“That doesn’t reassure me.” 

“It’d take more than your pussy to kill me. I can move you off if I have to, or I’ll tap your thigh twice.” He demonstrates. “So, quit your worryin’ and sit.” 

“Bossy.” 

He smacks your ass, the sharp sting making your cunt clench. He loses patience, gripping your thighs, yanking you down against his face. That worry you had about accidentally murdering Joel? It flies out the window, your brain short-circuiting at the heat of his mouth and the wet messy sound of his tongue plunging into your pussy. It’s instant, the pleasure cutting through you sharp as a knife, your head falling back, your knees buckling. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, already starting to tremble.

It’s filthy and almost too much, but not enough all at once. His stubble scrapes your inner thighs, adding a bite to every glide of his wicked tongue, his groans vibrating against your sensitive skin. You’re floating, your heartbeat thumping in your ears. He licks up every drop you’re dripping like a man possessed, his nose bumping your swollen clit. 

He’s going to make you come—arousal burns hot at the base of your spine, the knot in your belly winding tighter and tighter. You’re so lost in how fucking good it feels you don’t even realize you’re grinding down until Joel’s fingers grab your ass and rock you against his mouth, helping you move. 

“That’s it,” he groans into your cunt. “Use me. Fuck my face, baby.” 

And you do, your hips moving greedily now, chasing every lick of his tongue, unashamed. Your whole body burns, your pussy soaked, every nerve in your body lit up like the Fourth of July. Sweat drips down your spine and between your breasts. 

You thought Joel was in heaven earlier with his face buried in your tits, but from the way he’s eating you out like it’s his last meal on earth and how he can’t seem to stop groaning against your cunt, this is his real heaven. He drags the flat of his tongue through your folds to wrap his lips around your throbbing clit, and when he sucks, he has to hold you still as you writhe, chanting his name over and over again, spiraling out of your mind in pleasure. 

God, he really is going to ruin you for anyone else, isn’t he? It’s not like this is the first time you’ve been eaten out, either. But no one’s devoured you like this. He’s truly hungry for it—relentless. Slurping at your pussy like it’s his favorite meal.

“Don’t stop,” you whimper. “Don’t fucking stop. Your mouth—fuck—I love your mouth. It’s so good.” You don’t even know if he can hear you with your thighs clamped over his only good ear. 

Maybe it was a mistake challenging him to show you why you should be his. He’s pulling out all the stops to convince you. You’re already unraveling, and this man has the audacity to snake his hand up to your breast and tweak your nipple. It forces a choked sound from your throat, and your vision blurs for a second. 

He works you up, higher and higher, until you’re trembling over him, your thighs quaking, belly tight, heart hammering like it's trying to break free. You’re drenched, dripping onto his face, as he feasts on you like he’s starving. 

“Fuck, Joel—” you gasp, but can’t even finish the thought. 

You reach for his hand on your thigh, desperate for something to hold onto. He squeezes it, grounding you. 

Joel moans into your cunt as if it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted, dragging his tongue in slow, deliberate strokes that push you right to the edge. Then he sucks your clit deep into his mouth, and the world drops out from under you. 

You scream. There’s no other word for it. You cry out like you’re shattering, hips jerking, cunt clenching so hard around nothing it aches. Your orgasm rips through you, hot and brutal, pleasure crashing over you in waves that leave you gasping and twitching. 

Joel doesn’t stop; he doubles down.

He groans like he’s getting off on it, rutting his tongue against your pulsing clit and shoving it inside you to lick up your release. His stubble scratches your swollen lips, his fingers digging into your ass to keep you right where he wants you.

“That’s it,” he growls into your pussy between licks. “Give it to me. Fuckin’ soak my face, baby. I want it all.” 

Sounds are spilling from you of their own accord—moans, cries, possible declarations of love for this guy you’ve known for less than two hours. You don’t know what you’re saying, you just know he’s wrecking you, and you never want it to end. 

“Joel, Joel—oh fuck—I can’t—” He has you coming again. It builds until it spills over, dizzying and all-consuming. Your body goes taut for a heartbeat, and then you’re melting, euphoria searing through your veins, your thighs shaking uncontrollably around his head. This one isn’t as explosive as the last, but it’s deep, stealing your breath and making you feel like your soul just drifts out of you.   

“Good girl,” his voice half-muffled by your cunt.

His tongue continues lapping lazily at your oversensitive clit until you’re flinching, overstimulated. Finally, he eases up, making a satisfied hum. 

“You did so fuckin’ good for me,” he murmurs.

You’re numb with pleasure—boneless, floating. Joel’s strong hands slide up to your waist, carefully lifting you off his face. He settles you onto his chest for barely a moment before your legs give out, collapsing onto your back beside him in a spent, panting heap. Your arms and legs feel heavy, your body buzzing like a live wire. 

Well, it still rings true that guys his age know what they’re doing in the bedroom. You have a theory on why that is, and it has to do with them being in their thirties before everything went to hell. They remember what it’s like to fuck in a time void of the uncertainty and fear of today. They remember what it’s like to be carefree and able to take their time in bed, unlike these days, where it’s hard to find somewhere safe enough to feel that relaxed. 

Luckily, Jackson is one of those places. So here, in the safety of the town, they get to relive those years, and you’re more than happy to go down memory lane with them. 

And somehow, with hardly any effort, Joel wants you to be his. 

It’s embarrassing how giddy that makes you. 

He can’t know he’s already sold you on a relationship with him. You want him to work for it, so you don’t come off as too easy. 

The old springs in the mattress squeak as Joel shifts onto his side. His rough, calloused fingers stroke along your cheek. “You okay, sweetheart?” he softly asks. “Need a second?” 

You nod slowly. “My arms are noodles, and my legs aren’t any better. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t walk if I tried. 

“Yeah?” You can hear the smile in his voice. “It’s a good thing you don’t have anywhere to be.” There’s a pause. Without looking at him, you know he’s frowning now. “You don’t have plans, right? Tonight?” 

Your eyes blink open, your head turning his way, smiling. The bottom half of his face is shiny with your juices, and he looks adorably worried with a crinkle between his eyebrows that you reach up to smooth with your thumb. “No plans. I was going to fix all the holes in my socks. Maybe patch up some other clothes. I’d much rather spend my evening with you, though.” 

He smiles, grabbing your hand, kissing your knuckles. “Good. I’ve got nothin’ goin’ on, either. I just need to be home by midnight.” 

“Because you, what? Turn back into a pumpkin after midnight?” 

He gives you a flat look. “No, I don’t turn into a damn pumpkin. I’ve got a kid. I need to be home for her.” 

“You have no idea how much it turns me on that you’re a good dad.”

Joel huffs in amusement, his eyes leaving yours. “I don’t know about bein’ a good dad, but she doesn’t seem to hate me, so I must be doin’ somethin’ right.” 

“I mean, you’re getting her a birthday cake—her first birthday cake, might I add—and you were willing to pay whatever price it’d cost. Sounds very ‘good dad’ to me. That actually reminds me. Don’t worry about the shit we agreed on. We’re good. I’ll make the cake tomorrow. You could even come over and help me, if you wanted to.” That’d be such a cute date. 

His gaze comes back to yours, his lips downturned. “I don’t want you doin’ it for free. I know that ingredients aren’t easy to come by, and you’re takin’ time out of your busy day.” 

“Who said anything about free? Just so we’re clear, I normally do not make cakes in exchange for sexual favors, but this will be the only exception because you were that good—don’t let it go to your head.” 

It’s too late, the smugness is already showing on his face, his dark eyes sparkling with a crooked grin. “I was that good, huh?” His head dips to place a soft kiss on your naked shoulder. “You gonna be mine now?”

“I don’t know. I think I need some more convincing.”

“More convincin’?” He lets go of your hand to rest his palm, warm and firm, on your thigh. “What will it take?”

“You know what I want.” 

“Be a good girl and ask me for it.” 

You suck in a breath, your cunt throbbing in beat with your heart. Oh, you like that. 

Quickly, you compose yourself. “Ask for it? Or do you want me to beg for it?” Your tone shifts to something sultry. “Please, Joel. I need your cock. I’m aching for it. Fuck me. Fill me up. Ruin me—whatever you want. Just please, will you fuck me now?” 

His fingers tighten on your leg, his voice deepening. “How do you want it?” 

You smile. “How do you want me?”

“Flip over.” 

“Take off your pants.” You glance down at the denim to see the impressive bulge at the front. “I’m not going to be the only one who’s naked.” Your gaze returns to his. “Go on. Get up and strip.”

He’s frowning. “And you were callin’ me bossy…” he mumbles. 

“You got a problem with that, big guy?”

“No, ma’am.” 

He moves to get off the bed and walks around to the end of it. You sit up on your elbows to watch with interest as he undoes his belt and unbuttons his jeans. He doesn’t drag it out, shoving both his pants and boxer briefs down his legs and peeling off his socks, before standing to his full height for you to take him in, his hands on his hips. 

The first thing that catches your attention is his dick bobbing between his legs. He’s mouth-wateringly thick, with a decent length that, at the thought of how it’d feel inside you, has you rubbing your thighs together to quell the sudden ache. The tip is flushed an angry red, with beads of precum smeared to make it shine in the light of your bedside lamp. 

“Keep starin’ at it like that, and you’re gonna start droolin’.” 

Your eyes rise to his amused ones. “Who says I’m not already?” 

He’s smirking. “That mouth’s gonna get you in trouble.” 

You smile. “Is that a threat, handsome?” 

“It’s a fact.” 

“I love this foreplay. You’re cute.” 

His eyebrow lifts. “I’m cute?” 

“Yes, you’re cute, and so fucking hot.” Your attention returns to his body. Naked, the broadness of his shoulders and the tininess of his waist are more pronounced. “You’re in amazing shape.”

“You think so?”

“I’d fuck you, even with the wear and tear.” You wink at him. 

Speaking of wear and tear, his body is littered with scars, some old, having silvered long ago, and others newer. There’s one low on his abdomen that catches your eye, and you need to get a closer look at it, scrambling onto your hands and knees, crawling over on shaky limbs to kneel in front of him. It’s relatively big, jagged—a quick patch job by someone inexperienced or in a hurry—and red, which means he’s only had it a handful of months. The injury must’ve happened on his trek to Jackson from Boston. 

What’s fascinating about it is that a wound of its caliber should’ve killed him while traveling across the country. If it weren’t the blood loss that got him, the risk for infection in those conditions would’ve been insane. Your hand moves of its own volition, pressing your fingertips to the warm, raised skin—you gasp when he abruptly snatches your palm, your chin lifting to meet his eyes. 

“Sorry,” you apologize immediately. 

“Shit.” He lets go, looking startled by what he’d done out of instinct. “No, I’m sorry.” His eyes dart away, sighing. “I haven’t been touched like this in a long fuckin’ time.” 

“Let’s change that.” 

He meets your gaze as you grab his waist for support and lean in to kiss the scar softly. He swears under his breath, his thighs tensing. “Jesus,” he rasps. You keep your eyes on his, kissing down through his happy trail to your destination between his legs. “You’re gonna fuckin’ ruin me.” 

He must’ve showered earlier after working his assigned job for the day. The scent of crushed thyme clings to his skin, sharp and earthy with just a hint of mint that’s grounding and fresh.

When your fingers wrap around his cock, Joel’s head falls back as he groans loudly. He’s hot in your palm, his shaft hard as steel and velvety smooth as you slowly pump him. 

“God, you have a pretty dick,” you tell him. 

He stares down at you again, and you love how he looks at you, as if you’re a reward and not just a good time, how he looks at you like you mean something. “Yeah?” he says the word in question. His big hand caresses your face, stroking his thumb over the apple of your cheek. “You want it to ruin that perfect little pussy?” 

“Yes, after this—” Dipping your head, you take his cock into your mouth, engulfing as much as you can until he’s hitting the back of your throat. There’s only a second for you to enjoy the heaviness of him on your tongue before he’s pulling you off of him. 

“No,” he hisses. “None of that, sweetheart.” He grips the base of his shaft, giving it a squeeze to calm himself. 

Frowning, you look up at him. “Why not?” 

“Because if you keep goin’, I’m gonna blow before I even get inside you. I told you, it’s been a long fuckin’ time since I’ve been with someone.” 

His reason makes you smile. “And you want to fuck me instead of coming down my throat.” 

“And I want to fuck you instead of comin’ down your throat.”

Why is that romantic to you? Maybe because there aren’t a lot of guys who’d turn down a blow job so you can get off together. 

“Hands and knees?” you ask, “Or on my stomach?” 

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips. “That’s my girl. Hands and knees, baby.” 

You don’t have to be told twice—turning in place, you shuffle up the mattress, settling on your hands and knees in the center of the bed. It’s instinctive how you arch your back, your ass lifted, and thighs parted. It’s a pose that feels both vulnerable and powerful, knowing exactly what kind of view you’re giving him. 

You glance back over your shoulder. “You coming, big guy?” It makes you grin, finding him distracted by the display you’re putting on. You wiggle your ass to get his attention. “You gonna get up here?” 

That snaps him from his reverie. His tone lowers, rough with desire, “Yes.” The mattress dips behind you as he climbs on, getting close enough that you can feel the heat of his body. Your head falls forward as his large, calloused palm slides up your spine, heavy and possessive, to squeeze the back of your neck. “Look at you,” he says, sounding awed. “My good girl with her ass up and her needy little pussy drippin’ for me. I’ve never felt so fuckin’ lucky.” His hands move to smooth over the curves of your backside before he grabs handfuls of the meaty globes hard enough that it borders on painful. “You’re perfect—you’re so fuckin’ perfect. But you know what else you are?” 

You hear him spit onto his fingers, slicking up his cock before he slides it through your wet folds to get it even wetter. Then he’s pressing the fat tip against your aching entrance, teasing it, your breath catching in your throat.

“What?” you whisper. 

“Mine.” 

He drives into you, sheathing himself in one hard thrust that knocks the air from your lungs, your body jerking forward from the impact. 

A guttural groan rumbles from Joel’s chest, his hands gripping your hips even tighter, holding you in place. He’s stretching you to your limit, filling you so completely that it’s hard to think, your fingers curling into the blankets. 

You’ve never been more thankful for foreplay, that he took the time to get you ready to take him. He feels massive inside you, and so fucking good, pressing against all of the right spots. At the thought of how it’s going to feel when he’s pounding into you, your cunt clenches around him. 

“Don’t,” he says through gritted teeth. “Don’t move.”  

It’s clear he wasn’t lying when he said he hadn’t been with anyone in quite some time. With his breaths turning ragged and his hips twitching from holding himself back, the man is fighting for his life not to come. Enough time passes that you’ve grown used to his dick, or as used to it as you can get with how big it is. What matters is that it’s not as overwhelming as it initially seemed.

You look back at Joel, catching him with his eyes squeezed shut, jaw tight, and sweat glistening on his brow. 

“Need a minute?” you ask.  

He cracks his eyes open. “You’re so fuckin’ tight and warm.” 

“You’re just big.”

“Am I?” He smirks.

You roll your eyes. “I’ve stroked your ego enough today. And hey, if you finish early, no shame. My pussy has that effect on some men.” 

From your previous dalliances with older men, if they hadn’t fucked in a while, the first round usually went fast, something they expected so they’d get you off beforehand. After that, they could go for as long as you wanted. 

His eyes narrow. “Are you callin’ me old?” 

You grin. “All I’m saying is you might not have the stamina you once had, and that’s totally cool.”

He moves faster than you expect, gasping when he shoves your shoulders down, forcing your chest to the mattress, with your spine arched and ass up. In the blink of an eye, he’s got your arms pinned behind your back, his large hand easily wrapped around both of your wrists, holding them there in one rough fist. 

“I told you that mouth of yours was gonna get you in trouble,” he mutters, angling his hips.  

He pulls out of you halfway and slams back in, the force stuttering your breath. 

One thing you’ve learned about Joel is you shouldn’t challenge him unless you want to be fucked within an inch of your life, as was happening right now. There’s no teasing, no slow buildup—he sets up a punishing pace from the start, the new angle absolutely devastating with his cock hitting something so divine inside you you’re seeing stars. 

“Joel, fuck—” you cry out. “Oh, fuck.” 

It feels like he’s taking you apart piece by piece, coming undone by how he’s filling and fucking you, how he owns you. He wasn’t wrong when he said you were his. He could have you any way he wants, and right now, he’s proving why he gets that honor. 

“You’re gonna feel me tomorrow,” he grits out between thrusts. “Every time you move, you’ll remember who this pussy belongs to.” 

His grip tightens on your wrists, using your arms as leverage, dragging you back onto his cock with every thrust. Each stroke is deeper than the last, your cunt greedy for every inch of him. You can’t think, you can’t breathe, you’re completely at his mercy as another orgasm starts to take shape in your core. 

Finding out that not only is he handsome, polite, and a good father but that he also fucks, has made you determined to lock him down and make him yours. 

He has you gasping now, your knees shaking hard enough you’re worried they’ll give out. Joel’s rhythm is brutal and unforgiving, his cock hitting so deep you swear you can feel him in your guts. Every push and pull of his hips is working you higher and higher. You’re so fucked out of your mind that all you can focus on are the sensations: his thick cock hammering into you, the burn in your thighs, the strain in your arms, the sweat coating your face and back, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. 

The pressure in your belly builds, your body trembling.

He says something above you that you don’t make out, smacking your ass to get your attention. The sting has you sucking in a breath, your pussy clamping down on him. 

“Answer me,” he orders. “Is this what you wanted? You wanted to be fucked like this?”

“Y-yes,” you choke out. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.” 

“I’m not stoppin’ until you beg me to, and you say you’re mine.” 

Noise echoes off your bedroom walls. The old bedframe creaks under you, the worn bedsprings squealing with each thrust, skin slapping skin, the wet suck of your used cunt, moans, and ragged breaths—a symphony of debauchery. 

All you can do is take it, your back bowed, arms pinned, getting shoved forward into the sheets every time he fucks into you. He’s worked you up to the point that the coil in your belly is close to snapping, you just need—

Joel gives you another taste of his strength, pulling you up against his chest with little effort. His pace doesn’t wane, his cock working in and out of you, holding you close with an arm over your chest and another across your stomach. 

His lips press to the shell of your ear, feeling his hot, panting breath. “I know you’re close,” he rasps. “Can feel you squeezin’ me. Say it. Tell me you’re mine and I’ll let you come.” 

You grab onto his arm that’s locked against your breasts, nodding your head frantically. “I’m yours, Joel,” you gasp. “I’m fucking yours. I’ll always be yours. Please, let me come. Please.”

His hand on your stomach goes to the apex of your thighs, pinching your clit. You mewl, jerking in his hold. 

“This pussy is mine, too, isn’t it?” he asks. 

“Yes, it’s yours. Your pussy, your girl, I’m all yours, only yours. Please, Joel. Please, let me come.” 

“Good girl.” He kisses behind your ear. “Come for me. Let me have it.” 

A cry rips from your throat as he circles your clit, his other hand on your breast rolling your nipple between his fingers, his cock still pounding into you. It’s everything you need, setting you off and over the edge. The coil snaps, pleasure crashing through your body, sobbing his name over and over again, your nails digging into the skin of his forearm to tether you to earth. Your cunt spasms around him, clenching down on him hard enough it slows him to a stop. 

He groans in your ear. “That’s it.” His grip tightens around you. “That’s my fuckin’ girl. Come for me, baby.” 

You collapse against him, boneless. It’s Joel’s arm wrapped around your middle that holds you steady through the aftershocks when all you want to do is fall forward onto the mattress and rest your eyes. Your breaths are coming out ragged, your heart hammering so hard it feels like you’ve outrun a horde of infected. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, then another to the side of your neck. His free hand rubbing comforting circles on your hip. 

You don’t speak. You’re not even sure you could if you wanted to. 

You’re still clutching his arm, and he doesn’t pull out; he stays nestled inside you, keeping you full after ruining you in the best way. Having him so close and surrounding you is the only thing that grounds you, the room quieting as you catch your breath. 

He waits a beat for you to come down before he asks, “Still with me, sweetheart?” 

You reach up behind you to thread your fingers into his sweat-damp hair, letting out a shaky exhale. “Yes.”

He nuzzles the crook of your neck. “I didn’t go too hard?” 

The softness is wholly unexpected. He’s holding you like you’re something precious, pressing reverent kisses to your skin and quietly checking in. It makes you like him even more and evokes a certain feeling that tightens your chest with emotion. Is it tenderness? Or is it that he’s treating you like more than a warm body to fuck? Maybe it’s both. Whatever it is, the ache you feel behind your ribs is almost as overwhelming as the orgasms he’s coaxed from you. 

“No. I can take it,” you answer. 

He hums in agreement and kisses a spot below your ear. “You took it really fuckin’ well.”

You smile. “You dished it out really fuckin’ well.”

“You got anythin’ to say about my stamina?” 

The question makes you snort. “I apologize for doubting your stamina. To be honest, I’m a little shocked that you haven’t come yet.” 

“Almost did, when you came. Took a whole helluva lot not to.” 

“Well, color me impressed, old man.” 

He pinches your hip, and you giggle. “Call me that again, and I’ll make sure you can’t walk for a week.” 

“Is that a promise?” 

“That fuckin’ mouth of yours.”

“You love it.”

He sighs. “Do you wanna stop or keep goin’?”

His arm is wrapped around your middle. He’s still hot and hard inside you, keeping you deliciously stretched. Obviously, you want to keep going, but there’s something you want to do for him. 

“Oh, I’m gonna get you off.” 

You untangle his arms from your body and crawl forward, his cock slipping out of you with an obscene wet sound that has you sucking in a breath and Joel groaning. You get up onto your knees and shuffle in place to look at him. 

“Sit down,” you order, and point at the spot beside you on the bed. He raises an eyebrow, and you roll your eyes. “Do you want to come with my tits in your face or not?”

That gets his cute little ass moving up the bed. He pauses when he’s next to you, his hands framing your face as he gives you a kiss that leaves you a little dizzy when he breaks away. He snags your four pillows, using them to cushion his back against the headboard, his legs sprawled out, arms folded behind his head, watching you with hungry eyes. 

He looks at home in your bed as if he’s been here hundreds of times and not only once.

And god, is he a sight to behold. A rosy pink flush rising from his chest to his cheeks, his hair tousled, skin gleaming from perspiration, and between his legs, his thick cock slick with your come and still rock hard. 

You straddle his hips. “Boob guy?”

The second they’re within reach, he’s cupping them in his large palms. 

He huffs, amused, crookedly smiling. “What makes you think that?” 

“Hmmm, let’s see. You checked them out at the door, buried your face in them on the couch, and you couldn’t keep your hands off them while you were literally being smothered by my pussy, and fucking me six ways to Sunday.” 

Joel’s chuckle turns into a choked ‘fuck’ when you guide his cock back inside you, slowly sinking down his shaft inch by inch. He shuts his eyes for a moment, his jaw flexing. You loop your arms around his neck, bottoming out, and fuck, he feels even deeper like this.

“You got me,” his voice sounds strained. “Fuckin’ love them.” His head dips to flick your nipple with his tongue, then kisses the curve, giving the other the same treatment. He sits back to meet your gaze. “Fuckin’ love how pretty you look sittin’ on my dick, too. You gonna ride me, baby?” 

Leaning forward, you kiss the line of his stubbled jaw to whisper in his left ear. “I’m gonna ride you into the sunset, handsome—and you get free rein of my tits.”

He grabs your chin, moving your face in front of his to crush his lips against yours, kissing you needily. His tongue plunders your mouth as you start moving on his lap, slow circles at first, savoring how his cock drags along your walls. Joel lets out the tiniest whimper, his palms skimming down to grip your ass. He kisses the underside of your jaw and down your neck, sucking hard on your pulse point—you gasp, your fingers pushing into the mess of waves at the back of his head. 

“You’re too fuckin’ good to me,” he says with his lips on your throat. 

“You deserve it,” you breathe. 

He isn’t going to last very long with how he’s throbbing inside you, so thick and desperate. You’re pretty sure that if you bounce on his dick with your breasts in his face and talk dirty to him, you can get him off in under two minutes. Hell, maybe you could do it in one. You decide to make it a challenge for yourself. 

Planting your knees into the mattress, you grip his shoulders for leverage and start moving with purpose. You rise until only the tip of him remains, then slam back down, in quick succession, again and again and again. It’s hard and fast, clenching around him on the upstroke to make it even better. 

He groans under you, fingers clawing into your ass like he’s hanging on for dear life. You pry them off as you continue working yourself up and down, putting his big hands on your tits.

“Fuck, baby,” his words come out ragged, his eyes glued to your chest. 

“You like that?” you pant. “Your cock buried so fucking deep inside me while you play with my tits?”

“Yes.”

He teases your stiff nipples with calloused thumbs, and he can’t help himself, leaning in to seal his mouth over one pebbled peak. He greedily sucks, the pleasure sparking through you, stuttering your rhythm for a moment. You keep going and are ready for it when he moves to your other breast, his tongue swirling around the hard bud.

You sound breathless. “You’re close, aren’t you?”

He doesn’t want to let your nipple go, so he hums his affirmative that vibrates against your skin. 

It’s slippery between your legs, his dick sliding easily in and out of your pussy. You speed up, becoming just as ruthless as he was, using him like he used you, fucking him at the same punishing pace. Your thighs collide with his in a sharp, wet smack that echoes off the walls, the bed creaking loudly. Your nipple pops out of his mouth, and he grabs your ass again for something to hold onto. “Gonna fuckin’ kill me,” he groans. He looks up at you, his eyes wild and glazed over. There’s no mistaking he’s absolutely wrecked and barely holding it together. 

It makes you smile seeing him so undone. “Can’t take it, baby?”

“I can—fuck,” he gasps, his eyes squeezing closed for a split second. He swallows hard. “Fuckin’ ruin me.”  

“With pleasure.” You ignore how your thighs burn and the bedframe squeaks. He’s your focus, he’s all that matters. You watch his face as you ride him, how it contorts when you bear down on him. You memorize every detail, every sound, every little thing that makes him tick and fall apart. His attention is back on your heaving breasts. “I want you to come inside me,” you tell him through panted breaths. “I want you to fill me up, make me drip. I wanna feel every last drop inside me. Can you do that for me, handsome? Can I have your come? Please, Joel?”

His glassy eyes snap to yours, and that’s all it takes. 

It’s game over. 

He surprises you when he sits up just enough to grab you with one arm around your back, the other cradling your head, dragging you down into a kiss as he comes. It’s desperate and messy, his lips crashing into yours, a groan rumbling from his chest, swallowing the whimper you make as you feel his cock thicken and jerk, the pulsing heat flooding your depths. Each spurt makes your cunt clamp down around him on reflex. He holds you there, locked in the kiss as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go, his whole body beneath you trembling. You roll your hips, slower than before, grinding, drawing out every last wave for him to give you everything he’s got. 

Then—

CRACK.

The ancient bedframe finally gives out. 

With a deafening groan of protest and a sharp snap, the entire mattress drops six inches on one side, sending you both lurching sideways with surprised gasps. You’re straddling him, leaning a little to the left, Joel breathless and stunned under you. You look at the current state of your bed, then at him, somehow still balls-deep inside you, his hair a mess, his pretty face dazed, and cheeks flushed. 

“You broke my fucking bed.” 

His expression switches from shocked to offended, his eyebrows cinching together. “Excuse me, I broke your bed? Baby, you were ridin’ me like a fuckin’ mechanical bull.”

“After you fucked me into the mattress. Either way, it’s your fault. No one has ever broken my bed before.” 

“No one has ever fucked you like me before.” He looks smug about it, too. 

“Touché.” Your attention turns to the bed again, frowning. “Fuck, I’m gonna have to sleep with my mattress on the floor. With making the cake and working, I won’t be able to fix this for a few days.” 

“I’ll fix it tomorrow.” 

You look at him. “You don’t have to. It’s fine. I can probably get one of the handymen to do it when I’m free.” There are a handful of knowledgeable men who help fix things around town—Tommy is one of them. 

“I said, I’ll fix it tomorrow. You don’t need a handyman when I used to be a fuckin’ contractor.” 

That has you perking up. “A contractor?” 

“Yeah.” He takes a moment to get comfortable, keeping you atop him while he scoots down the lopsided bed and arranges your pillows to prop up his head and shoulders. “C’mere,” he says, pulling you down to lie half on top of him, his softened cock slipping out of you. Your ear is pressed over his heart, hearing the steady beat, his arm around you with his hand on your hip.

“It’s sexy that you used to be a contractor,” you say. Your palm is resting on his stomach, and he covers it with his free hand. “I’m just going to make the assumption that was back when you were in Texas, and since it gets pretty hot there, did you work with your shirt off often…?”

He’s amused. “Yes. Especially in the summer.” He’s drawing imaginary shapes on your hip. 

“What I’d pay to see that.” 

“Well, you’re makin’ the cake for free—”

“Not free,” you interrupt, lifting your head to look at him, resting your chin on his pec. “I’m making the cake in exchange for you eating my pussy like a champ.” 

He huffs, meeting your gaze. “Now you are, but before, the shit we agreed on for you to make the cake was nothin’. It would’ve taken me no time at all to get, so you were makin’ it for free.” 

“More like half-off to non-smugglers.” 

“Then you need to re-evaluate what your skills are worth ‘cause you’re sellin’ yourself short.” 

“You are very sweet, but I promise the deal I made you was only for you. A chocolate cake with basically a day’s notice? Come on, I’d want some good shit for that. Coffee, painkillers, antibiotics, ammunition, a firearm—what I asked you to get wouldn’t even pay for the chocolate, let alone a whole cake.”

He’s frowning, his finger pausing on your skin. “Then why would you agree to so little from me?”

You smile. “A weakness for single older dads.”

“You got a lot of those around here?” 

“Nope,” you pop the ‘p.’ “You’re a rare breed, and the reason why, if I’m yours, then you are mine. I do not share.”

“I don’t either.” 

“Perfect.” 

“Glad we got that out of the way. Can we go back to talkin’ about me bein’ a contractor?” 

“A sexy, shirtless contractor?” 

“Yes. What I was goin’ to say before you interrupted me is that you were so kind about the cake, that if you wanted, I can fix your bed without a shirt on.” 

“Can that be standard when you fix anything around my apartment?”

He smiles. “If that’s what you want.” 

“Oh, I want it. Also, may I make the request that the bed be extra-reinforced? We will be testing it out when you’re done.” 

“Is that right?” 

“Yep.” 

“You’re gonna fuckin’ wear me out with how much you want my cock.” 

“Your mouth, too. I’d also like to see what your fingers are like.” 

“Jesus Christ.” His fingertip starts making shapes on your hip again. “I wanna know more about you than just what you like in bed. How long have you lived in Jackson?” 

“Seven years.” 

“You got any family?”

“Biological? No. Lost my parents and little sisters when I was about twelve. Typical tragic backstory where I was the lone survivor. You know the bartender, Seth?” 

“Yeah.” 

“He and his wife found me and raised me with their kids. I was an adult by the time they decided to come out this way, and they told me I was old enough to make my own choice on whether I’d follow them or not. Obviously, I did. They may not be my blood relatives, but they’re still my aunt and uncle, which took me some years to label them as such. It’s hard when you remember your family, and they could never replace my parents. Was Ellie close with her mom and dad?” 

He frowns. “She didn’t have parents, or at least ones she knew. She was raised by FEDRA in Boston. I don’t think that girl knows what it’s like to be loved by a parent, or anyone, for that matter.” 

“From what you’ve told me, I think you’re doing a great job of showing her what it’s like to have a loving father, or a loving parent in general. The cake was a great idea. It’s so sweet and thoughtful. Do you have a present for her?” 

“Before I come over here tomorrow night to take care of your bed and have that drink with you, I’ll be spendin’ my day fixin’ up a guitar for her.” He’s fondly smiling. “I finished gettin’ all the parts I needed today—even traded your uncle for a piece of bone I’ll use for the saddle—”

“I know nothing about guitars. What’s the saddle?” 

“But you know what one looks like, right? An acoustic guitar?” 

You picture one in your head. “Yes.” 

“Okay, so you know the part near the bottom of the body where the strings are anchored? Where they’re pinned in?” 

“Yes.”

“That’s the bridge. The saddle sits on the bridge. It’s usually made of bone or plastic and holds the strings up at the right height and helps them stay in tune when you play.” 

“I think I know what you’re talking about.” 

“Good. So, got the bone, new strings, and I’ll clean and shine the rest of the metal parts. She has a thing for moths, and I’m gonna try my damndest to carve one into the fretboard—that’s the guitar neck with all the metal frets and dots to guide your fingers when you’re playin’? I’m gonna put it right at the top below the headstock, where the turning pegs are.”

“I can’t believe you don’t think you’re a good dad. The lengths you go to for this child. She’s really lucky to have you.” 

“Maybe.” 

“She is. Do you play?” 

“Since I was about half her age.” 

“You’ll have to play me something sometime.” 

“I will, but don’t ask me to sing. I’m fuckin’ awful at it.” 

“I have a hard time believing that. Is that your only hobby?” 

“No. I also do woodworkin’.”

“Like wooden figurines?”

“Yeah.” 

“You gonna make me one?” 

“What’s your favorite animal?” 

“Ummm—” You have to think about it for a second. “Maybe otters? I think it’s cute when they hold hands while sleeping.” 

“I’ll make you a pair of otters then.” 

You smile. “Just like that, you’re gonna woodwork me a couple of tchotchkes?” 

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “Gives me somethin’ to do when I’m home from work, and Ellie’s out bein’ a kid.” 

“If you ever want some company, I’d be happy to hang out with you while you do your thing. I’ll also watch movies with you, go horseback riding, and you could even help me make cakes.” You suddenly feel unsure of yourself. “Unless you’re not interested in any of that and you’re just looking for an exclusive sex partner.” 

“I told you I don’t do fuck buddies or casual shit.” 

“So, you want to date me?” 

“If you’ll have me.” He lifts your hand from his belly to kiss your knuckles. “I’d understand if you didn’t want people knowin’. though.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Why wouldn’t I want people to know I’m dating you?” 

“Because I’m old.” 

“Once again, I do not give a fuck that you are—how old are you?” 

He takes a deep breath and says on the exhale, “Fifty-six.” 

“Once again, I do not give a fuck that you are fifty-six. You’re hot and sweet, and I’d want everyone to know you’re mine.” 

He smiles. “Yeah?” 

“Yes. There’s just one little thing we need to figure out.” 

“What’s that?” 

“How long do you wait until you tell Ellie?” 

“After her birthday. Maybe in a week or two to see how things go between us.” 

“Solid plan.” You lean up and peck him on the lips. 

“What about you? You got any hobbies?” 

“Mostly baking. I also collect records and love watching movies.” 

“When I go out again, I’ll find you more records and movies.” 

“That’s sweet of you, but you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. I do have a question.” 

“I’ll hopefully have an answer.” 

“I know you like sex—”

“Love,” you correct. “Love sex very much.” 

“Yes, I know you love sex very much, and you said you weren’t seein’ anyone. Do I need to worry about any former, uh, paramours?” 

“Wanting to fight you for my bed?”

“Yes…” 

“No. The few guys in town are all married now, and there are a couple of traders who stop by every once in a while who’ll be disappointed, but they won’t step on your toes.” 

“I know it’s none of my business, but why didn’t any of the men here wanna marry you…?”

“Oh. I guess we should probably discuss this now, rather than having me blindside you down the road. I’d like to have a family one day, and they were all done with babies and raising kids. They married women closer to their own age who felt the same way. So, if that’s a dealbreaker, you need to let me know now.” 

He’s quiet as he thinks about what you’ve said. Nerves swirl in your belly. You’re hoping and praying this isn’t the end. 

“I had a daughter,” he finally tells you. “Sarah. She was my pride and joy, my everythin’. She died in my arms twenty years ago on the night of the outbreak. It broke me. I was a shell of a man from that point on, and then Ellie came into my life. I was hired to transport her across the country, but things, uh, didn’t work out when I got her to her destination. So I brought her here to Jackson, where we’d be close to Tommy, and she’d get to have a somewhat normal life as a kid. 

“For twenty years, I swore to myself I’d never bring another child into this godawful world.” At his admission, your heart plummets. “Was really fuckin’ careful when I’d fuck to limit the risk as much as possible, too, which meant I never finished inside my partner. I never had the desire to, or would ever humor the idea.” 

Now, you’re confused. “If you’re so anti-creampies, why is your come dripping out of me as we speak?” 

He smiles and caresses your cheek with a gun-calloused palm. “Because in all of my fifty-six years on this planet, the happiest I’ve ever been is when I’m a dad. I fuckin’ love bein’ a father, and I know I’m too old to even be thinkin’ about babies, but if it happened? I wouldn’t be upset about it. I’d welcome it.” 

He’s perfect, and you’ve never wanted a man more. 

“I know we’ve only known each other for less than a day, but marry me.” Joel chuckles. “I’m serious. Make me your wife. I will fuck your brains out, have as many babies as you want, bake you delicious things, and treat Ellie like she’s my own kid. You’re everything and more that I want in a partner, and I think we’d be good together.” 

His thumb strokes over the apple of your cheek. “I’m flattered by your offer, sweetheart. I truly am, and have half a mind to accept it, but marriage isn’t somethin’ you rush into. I know most everyone does these days with how uncertain everythin’ is, but I’d like to take my time to court you properly before we decide to get married.” 

You sigh. “If you insist.” You glance up at the clock on your bedside table; the red numbers show it’s after ten p.m. Your gaze returns to his. “We’ve got less than two hours before you need to head home, Cinderella. Would you be up for another, softer, maybe sensual round—I’m thinking missionary—then we can shower, you can help me get my mattress onto the floor, and take off? Or do you want to shower, help me get my mattress onto the floor, and hang out in the living room, watching a movie or something until you need to leave?” 

“Another round, we shower, we leave your bed alone, and you come home with me instead of sleepin’ on the floor.” 

“To your house, where Ellie is…?” 

“I’ll sneak you in. She spends most of her time in her room anyway. She won’t know you’re there.” 

“If you want to hold off on her knowing about me, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

You don’t know how he does it. One minute, you’re lying half on top of him, and the next, he’s got you beneath him on your back, his hips cradled by your thighs. He kisses your clavicle, saying into your skin, “It’ll be fine.” His lips trail up your throat, making you shiver when he sucks on your pulse point, his cock hardening against your core. “Come home with me.” Joel continues his journey, laving kisses along the underside of your jaw to nip at your chin. He hovers his face over yours, searching your eyes. “Will you?” 

“Only if you’re sure.”

“Quit your worryin’. I told you, it’ll be fine. She’ll have no idea.” 

“Okay, then. I’ll go with you.” 

He smiles. “Good girl.” 

Joel wasn’t kidding about sneaking you into his house. That’s how you find yourself freshly fucked, showered, and clothed, creeping up a dark staircase behind him and into a hallway, where he signals for you to stay because Ellie’s door is open. He walks over to her doorway, leaning in it like he’s done it a hundred times before, the light shining on his face showing that fond smile he always has when he talks about her. 

“Hey, kiddo.” 

“Hey, Joel.” 

“You have a good day?” 

“Scooping horse shit?” You have to hold in your laugh. “Not really, but afterward, Jesse and I went to Dina’s to watch a movie.”

Jesse and Dina are good kids.

“What movie?” 

“Star Wars. The first two, but I wasn't really paying attention. We were too busy joking around and trying to throw popcorn into each other’s mouths.”

“What’d you do after that?” 

“We went and had dinner. Did you get some of the apple pie? It was really fucking good. I think the peach cobbler is still my favorite, though.”

You also made the peach cobbler. Ellie has good taste. It’s your favorite, too. 

“Yeah?” he asks. 

“Yeah.” 

“Well, hopefully it’ll come ‘round again soon.” 

Once traders come through with more peaches, you’ll be able to. It’s adorable watching him interact with her and seeing how much he clearly loves her. 

“I sure hope so. How was your day?” 

“Good. They had me out patrollin’, and I went through some houses to see if I could find anythin’ good. Did you get the tapes I left on your desk?” 

“I did! I listened to the Backstreet Guys, or whatever the fuck they’re called—people used to like that shit?” 

Is she talking about the Backstreet Boys?

Joel chuckles. “Sarah loved them.” 

“She usually has great taste in music,” Ellie replies, “but I’m not sure about this one.” 

“Well, I’ll tell you right now, NSYNC is similar—” She is talking about the Backstreet Boys, and how very ‘good dad’ of Joel to be familiar with the music his child loves. “—but I think you’ll enjoy the Halican Drops albums. That was Sarah’s favorite band. I’ve been lookin’ forever to find you their music, and I hit the jackpot today when I came across a kid’s room that hadn’t been picked clean.” 

“Oh, sweet. I’ll listen to them before bed. Thanks, Joel.” 

“You’re welcome, kiddo. Don’t stay up too late. You gotta be up early to scoop more horse shit.” 

She groans. “God, I fucking hope not. Can you ask Tommy to assign me to anything else? Like anything else.”

His voice softens. “Yeah, I’ll do that in the mornin’. Night, Ellie.” 

“Night, Joel.” 

He pulls her door closed and waits ten seconds, then motions for you to come to him. He grabs your hand when you’re within reach and leads you further down the hall to his room at the end, where he opens the door and flips on the light. He ushers you in, closing the door and locking it behind you.

The first thing you notice is that it smells like him—crushed thyme, gun oil, and something uniquely Joel, mixed with the scent of freshly cut wood. Then you take in the area, the paintings that depict cowboys, his woodworking workstation, what you assume is Ellie’s future guitar leaning against it, another one hanging on his wall, and further in the room, a third you think is the one he actually plays. The piece of bone he got from your uncle is sitting atop the worktable, along with little metal parts and his tools. 

“I like your room,” you tell him. “It’s cozy.” He’s got a comfy-looking accent chair you could imagine him reading in and a desk by the door with a drawing of a moth on top of it—what he plans to carve into Ellie’s guitar.

He spins you to face him. “Thanks.” He grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it up off your arms, followed by your sports bra. “You’re my first guest.” 

He grunts, crouching down in front of you. Joel gets his fingers under the waistband of your leggings and underwear, tugging them down. You hold onto his shoulders for balance as you step out of them, and he removes your socks, leaving you completely nude.

“Is that why you were adamant about me coming over tonight? So you could finally christen your bed?” 

He stands back up, one of his knees popping. “No.” Joel kisses you, and you hold his scruffy cheeks as he works open the buttons of his flannel. He shrugs it off and unbuckles his belt, his lips leaving yours to get his jeans undone and shoved down, followed by his boxer briefs. 

“When I said ‘christen your bed,’ I meant have sex in it for the first time. Why are we naked if we’re not gonna fuck?” 

All of his clothes are on the floor, including his socks, and instead of answering your question, he straightens and captures your lips once more, his hands gripping your waist. He kisses you as he walks you backward toward his neatly made bed, and when you’re beside it, he breaks away to pull back the blankets.

“Get in.” It’s not a suggestion, and you do as he says, getting under the sheets and turning on your side, propping your head up with your arm to watch what he’s doing.  

“The lack of clothes and kissing is giving me mixed signals.” 

“What do you mean?” he asks on his way to turn off the overhead light. 

“When I’m naked with someone and we’re making out, that’s the lead-up to fucking.” 

The room goes dark, save for the moonlight slipping through the closed blinds, offering some illumination as he returns, going around the bed and crawling in on the other side. You turn over to look at him as he gets to the middle of the bed. “C’mere.” He reaches toward you, and you scoot like he asks until he’s able to pull you up against the solid warmth of his front. He curls around you, one arm draped over your waist, the other under your head, his large palm resting gently on your spine. “Have you ever slept with someone?” he asks. 

You blink up at him in the dark, quietly replying, “We literally just fucked twice.” 

“No.” He brushes his thumb lightly over your back. “Not sex. I mean, have you ever just fallen asleep with someone?” 

The question has your breath catching a little, but not from arousal. No, this is something completely different. It’s warmer. Sweeter, and it makes your chest ache for some reason. 

Your mouth opens to reply, but no words come out immediately. 

It has you thinking back, really thinking back. Sure, you had nights where men stayed over. Nights when you were tangled in sweaty sheets with someone who’d be gone by morning. But this? Naked and held? No rush. No expectations. Just simple, quiet skin-on-skin closeness? 

“No,” you finally admit. “Never.” 

Joel hums a contented sound in his throat. He kisses the top of your head, his facial hair lightly scratching your forehead. “I hope you like it, sweetheart,” he murmurs. 

You lie there, stunned. You assumed he asked you here for the same reason men before him invited you into their beds—to fuck, and maybe some post-sex cuddling before your clothes are back on and the mood fades. 

But Joel doesn’t just want you. He wants you with him, here like this, in a way that feels much more intimate than sex. He doesn’t just wreck you with his body; it’s the way he chooses you when he doesn’t have to, how he holds you like you matter, like you’re his. With him, you’re not being used, you’re being kept. 

That dawning realization sinks in, curling around something tender behind your ribs. 

Your voice is small when you whisper, “You didn’t want me here for sex, did you?” 

“No,” he answers. “I wanted you here ‘cause I’ll sleep better with you next to me.” 

Your throat tightens, staring into the dark, feeling a little overwhelmed because you don’t know what to do with all of this affection settling over you. 

“Oh.” 

Joel chuckles, pulling you in tighter, tucking your head under his chin. “Yeah. Oh.” The room goes quiet, then he adds, “Also, don’t want you breakin’ my bed.”

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me,” he laughs into your hair. “You ride like a fuckin’ hellcat. That old frame of yours didn’t stand a chance.” 

His statement has your mouth dropping open, a mix of offense and flattery.

“That’s rude and slanderous because we both agreed you broke the bed.” 

“We agreed on no such thing. Tomorrow, I will even show you proof that you rode me into the sunset and your bed straight into the ground by where it snapped.” He kisses the top of your head again. “Gotta reinforce both our beds before I let you do that again. I think your couch could take the abuse, though, so that’s an option.” 

He has you biting back a smile. “I hate you.” 

“No, you don’t.” 

“No, I don’t.” 

“You wanna marry me.” 

“I’m not so sure I do now.” 

“You do.”

“Maybe.” 

“Six months.” 

“Six months, what?” 

“If we’re still together in six months, I’ll marry you.” 

Your heart rate increases. “Really?” 

“Yes. Now, get some sleep.” 

Part 2 - Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know! 

[mothandpidgeon]

Nine Lives (witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader) - MASTERLIST

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

pairing: witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader

rating: eventual E MDNI

summary: As you came into your powers and your curves filled in, Ezra realized he feelings for you were more than just affection. The only problem? He's a 300 year old cursed witch. Oh, and he's a cat.

contents: age gap (like 300 years), slow burn, yearning, soft!Ezra, probably anachronistic witchy stuff, love triangle (quadrangle?), reader is a millennial but otherwise not described, Ezra is a cat, he won't be forever, this isnt a beastiality thing, moth never uses y/n.

This one is for all of the Thackary Binx girlies. I've had a version of this story in my brain for years. I'm so excited to share it with you this spooky season.

I'm going to try very hard to keep to a schedule publishing this series!!

🐈‍⬛

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

epilogue

🐈‍⬛ more 🐈‍⬛

Little Mage's instagram

[iamasaddie-deactivated20251105]

ABOUT ME & BLOG ≣ MASTERLIST ≣ AO3

This blog is strictly 18+ Please, respect that and don’t interact if you’re not over that age. Ageless blogs & bots will be blocked. Blogs I don't like will also be blocked and I advice you do the same.

© iamasaddie 2023. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Show support to me and fellow creators on tumblr by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[sawymredfox]

It Tastes of Magic

a Joel Miller mini-series inspired by Practical Magic.

Hello! I still can't believe I'm doing this, but here I am, dipping my toes into my first mini-series with an OFC. A little bit over a year ago, I posted the first version of this story, inspired by the movie and the writing of @divine-timings and @penvisions. And despite loving the result very much, my writing wasn't what it is now, and I felt like I wanted more for Joel and Sage. So, after two months of work, thanks to the incredible help of @schnarfer (Thank you so much for holding my hand throughout all this and for planting the seed of the idea of turning it into a series♥️) and the support of @thundermartini, @thedilfdiaries, and @encasedinobsidian, the rewrite I planned has become this!

@thundermartini created this fantastic moodboard, capturing the essence of the story. And @yopossum gifted me this portrait, perfectly picturing this version of Joel that I love and treasure so much. If you haven't seen them, you should go and look at them. They are stunning!♥️

Pairing: Joel Miller x ofc (third person POV) Word count: 15k Tags/warnings: Rating Explicit (18+), Practical Magic AU, age gap (Sage's in her mid-thirties), soft!Joel, post-outbreak, Jackson era, forced proximity, switching POVs, fluff, rom-com vibes, slow burn, yearning, angst, smut.

Summary: After enduring her fate for decades, Sage is drowning in her grief, till Tommy brings two guests to her home, sparking a bond she's been longing for years- almost as if by magic…

Part I- The Beginning Part II- The Growth Part III- The Reveal

Masterlist

More:

Sage’s instagram

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

I'm tagging some people who were interested in my WIPs, and read the first version of the story. Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged or not♥️

@milla-frenchy @jennaispunk @aurorawritestoescape @bergamote-catsandbooks @burntheedges

@pattwtf @baronessvonglitter @604to647 @sixhours @artsy-girl-76 @whocaresstillthelouvre

@almostfoxglove @maggiemayhemnj @justagalwhowrites @thatcorporategirlie @tinytinymenace @secretelephanttattoo

@evolnoomym @jessthebaker @pascalssbabyy @harriedandharassed @arcane-fox @mountainsandmayhem

[toxicanonymity]

raider art masterlist

NAV: Main Masterlist -> Joel Masterlist -> Raider Masterlist

This community has so much talent, and y'all capture the characters, relationships, and vibes so well. You are a huge part of them. Ty for loving them. 🖤🖤🖤

DRAWINGS

Raider/sweet pea by @sweetlummie

Then and now by @cosmickid-inmotion

Birthday sketch by lummie

GIFs

Night air gif by @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

Want it that bad gif by @dark-scape

Bodies gif by kate

EDITS

🖼️ Stitches by not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

🎥 Lose control by @survivingandenduring

🖼️ Raiding edits by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

🖼️ Sweet pea's pup by mic

Bday cake by kate

🎥 Trailer (video) by @carminepoison

COLLAGES & MOODBOARDS

Raider addict collage by @milla-frenchy

6 month collage by milla

Parts 1-3 rb moodboards by @iamasaddie

Under the anger (after Roulette) by aly

🌸 Sweet pea by various

Raider/sweet pea collage by milla

Our stars (1 yr) moodboard by milla

👱‍♂️ Carter moodboard by roman

In love with raider by milla

Checks that you're ok by milla

👱‍♂️ Carter moodboard by milla

MISC

🌸 Night air cosplay by anonymous

Mattress (part 1) by esquire 🤪

If yours didn't make it onto this post, it was in error. Pls LMK 🥺

[survivingandenduring]

[pedge-page]

I need Joel & Tommy at the same time talking about me like I’m not there hehe

Wouldn't Have It Any Other Way

Joel Miller x F!Reader x Tommy Miller

Warnings: the boys use you like a toy, spitroast, threesome, oral M receiving, choking, doggy, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, throatpie, spanking, free use

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Joel can't help the snarl tugging at his upper lip, watching his length disappear into your wet cunt. "She's practically suckin' me in, all by herself," he chuckles, slamming into you hard again.

while the slaps from Joel's thrusts echo off your ass cheeks, the gargled sucking and swallowing coming from your other end bounce off the walls. Tommy holds your hair up in a tightly fisted pony tail. The suction your lips have on his member has him seeing stars practically daily, but today you were exceptional. "That's somethin; her pretty little lips doin' just the same up here," he nods towards his brother.

You glance up, big tearful eyes meeting the younger Miller. He gives you a playful wink before pushing his hips forward, flush against your nose. Your throat constricts uncomfortably, desperately trying to swallow the intrusion of his large wet cock but failing. Squeezing your eyes, you remind yourself 'in through your nose, out. in, out,' as the last thing you wanted was to pass out on them.

Not that they'd pay any mind and stop. They didn't last time. Instead, the brothers just continued fucking you until you came back to them. By then you were just being covered in their seed all over your face and tits.

Today they were determined to release inside your holes.

"I thought this time you were gonna fuck her ass?" Tommy asks. He cups your cheek with one thick hand, ensuring you stopped moving so he could smash his tip against your esophagus at the right angle.

"You were supposed to get her pussy, remember?" Joel slaps your ass harshly.

You let out a muffled cry, the jolt sending you forward into Tommy's pubic hairs. He lets out an annoyed huff before reaching below and steadying your neck. "She can't keep still." He bends slightly and begins fuckin your throat in earnest. "Fuck I can feel my dick bulgingin in that fuckin' slutty throat of hers," he groans, closing his eyes and using you like a fleshlight.

"S'not her fault, I'm tearing up this little cunt good." Joel wraps both hands on your waist before pushing his member fully in.

You can feel it breaching your deepest walls, practically saying hello in your stomach. You had never felt so fucking full in your life. It didn't matter that your cheeks were covered in tears, nor that your jaw ached or pussy stretched beyond belief. It didn't even matter that the men using your body above you didn't seem to care you could hear them. What mattered most to you right now was Joel's cock in your womb and Tommy's in your mouth, and you wanted it to stay that way.

"By the way, did you pick up her pills?"

"I thought you were gonna do that?"

"She's got enough, right?"

"Shit, I don't know. She was overdue for em yesterday."

Your eyes roll to the back of your skull. They could simply pull out for half a second to ask you whether you had your birth control, but instead, they shrugged and kept their dicks glued inside you. Neither Miller were one to waste your warm welcoming wet holes once they were inside.

"If she gets knocked up, then that's that," Joel says calmly. His pace falters, imagining you swollen with child and not knowing who's daddy it is. "Ugh fuck I"m gonna cum."

"Shit me too. Wanna switch?" Tommy asks. He's already pulling from your lips and jerking himself to the same pace, not wanting his orgasm to decline.

The two men crawl over on either side before taking the other's place. Tommy positions himself at your dripping entrance as Joel slots his tip onto your lips. You open your mouth to accept him just as your slick heat gapes for the other.

They bury themselves to the hilt in one thrust before stilling, letting out filthy groans. Each pulsing spurt could be felt on either end of you. The Millers filled you with their white creamy seed, warmly and overwhelmingly settling into your belly as if meeting in the middle.

When they pull out, you collapse beneath them, breathing hard and shaking. You're too exhausted and out of breath to touch your sensitive clit, opting instead to lightly hump the sheets bunched between your legs.

"Phew, that's a good fuck right there," Tommy says, slapping your ass and watching it jiggle. He gets up, stretching before going to wash himself off.

Joel gets to his feet and puts some boxers on. "M'gonna go grab a drink. Want anything?" he shouts to Tommy.

"Beer!"

The older brother shuffles out of the room without a single word to your quivering body.

Your cheeks warm at the feeling of their cum dripping down your chin and inner thighs.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda @picketniffler @bbyanarchist @94namkooksworld @urlivingdeadgirl @yourmommycallsmemommy @kellielovesmovies @whoaitspascal87 @yournameyn @mani-pedro @wildthyng @ashleyfilm @tateypots @capaxolotle @kelbrave @xxstarlighthazexx

[peppermintquartz]

are you 40 years or older

yes

no

Voting ended onSep 10, 2025

I'm kinda curious now... Anyway reblog for bigger sample size, blah blah blah

[mysterious-musings]

Buried Secrets Teaser

Buried Secrets Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Frankie Morales x OFC

Good afternoon my lovelies!

Today, I bring you a gift in the form of a teaser for Buried Secrets. The next chapter is called Among the Enemy. Which enemy could that be? Are there more than one? Two? Three? It all starts to unfold in this very pivotal chapter. I've got some twists and turns coming your way and I am dying to know if any of you will see it coming. 😈

We ended the last chapter with Mya asking Frankie to join on her a "supply run" to Puerto Maldonado. What we are actually getting is a meeting with her infamous benefactor that Frankie has been suspicious of from the beginning (and a supply run). We also get some much needed bonding time between our two lovesick idiots. Will they finally break and give into their urges? We will know by the end of the chapter. 😉

Fair warning. There will be cannon typical violence in this chapter (death of a bad guy, mention of blood). So, prepare yourselves for that.

Now, without further ado, your teaser is below the cut. Along with some other extra goodies.

>>> The Teaser: Mya's POV

Frankie insisted on driving, of course. I didn’t argue as I stepped up into the passenger seat and began to enter our destination into the GPS. We rode in silence for a time, which only increased the nerves I was feeling. My stomach twisted more and more with each mile that passed. I would have to tell him what we were about to walk into. I sat debating if I should tell him everything or as little as possible. I settled on the bare minimum - for now. 

“We’ll be meeting with my benefactor for dinner this evening. I’ve had some clothes delivered. You’ll need to look a little more presentable than I’m sure you’re used to.” 

He scoffed, “Is that meant to be an insult? I know how to clean up, OK? But seriously? Just to meet with this guy?”

I shrugged, “I need to play the game to get what I want.” 

He huffed out a laugh, “I should be shocked by that, but I’m not.” 

I let out a shaky breath, “I feel like you should know…he’ll have security. They may not let you take in a weapon.”

He glanced over at me, questioning. 

“I need you to play it cool…only speak if you’re spoken to. Got it?” 

His tongue slid across his bottom lip as he processed my words, “Are you sure this is all I need to know going into this meeting? Cause I’ll be honest, I feel like I’m about to walk into something else entirely.” 

I sighed, “Honestly, I-I don’t know. I think right now, the less you know…the better. I just need you to stay calm and don’t react to anything unless I say so.” 

He nodded, his jaw ticking as his hands clenched on the steering wheel. The tension between us seemed to grow, which was the last thing I needed right now. We had to be on the same page. So, I bit the bullet.

“I’m sorry about the other night. I…acted inappropriately. And you were right, I was being reckless. And stubborn. It won’t happen again.” 

His eyes cut toward me, his lips tugging upward. “Exactly which part are you apologizing for?” 

I knew what he was asking. I wanted to tell him that the kiss wasn’t included in the apology, but I also wanted him to stew on that part.

I smiled, “All I’m gonna say is that I was outta line. I’ll let you figure out the rest.” 

He rolled his eyes, “Fine. Whatever. But I guess…I should apologize to you as well. I could’ve handled that better. I was rude and unprofessional.” 

And there it is. Unprofessional. It wasn’t that he didn’t want it to happen. His body told me that he did. It’s his brain that never shuts the fuck up. 

I couldn’t help smirking at the thought, “I’m pretty sure professionalism was never on the table. So, I don’t think you have to apologize for that part.”

>>> Additional Goods

You know me, I love some good visual inspiration. So, I spent some time scouring the interwebs for visual representations of where Frankie and Mya will be staying during their getaway. They will be just on the outskirts of the Amazon, so we needed something wild and secluded yet romantic and touristy. I finally found it with this place. I love it. It's perfect. It sets the mood just as I wanted. When you read the descriptions of the resort and their bungalows, picture this.

I've almost got this chapter done. I've got like a scene and a half left to do and the editing. I'm currently at around 8k words. It will probably end up being around 10-11k if I had to guess. I plan to post sometime next week.

Do we have any predictions for what will happen in this chapter? Aren't those pictures amazing? I'm ready to go there myself...never mind that half of the animals that surround the place are deadly.😅

Until next time,

💜Mysty

Taglist: @2birdsofafeather @72scsuze @76bookworm76 @a-beautiful-but-sassy-world @almostfoxglove

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine @annalovesflorida @anniet852 @ashleyfilm @ashlovesdrpepper

@auteurdelabre @avastrasposts @biggetywitch @bitchwitch1981 @bluestar22x

@bunniboo0015 @burntheedges @captainredspade @chaoticfestninja @cheekychaos28

@christinamadsen @copperhalfcent @darkheartgatita @diabaroxa @din-cognito

@elisabethloves @fifitheragertot @for-a-longlongtime @girlofchaos @guelyury

@harriedandharassed @hisandsnakes @imdrinkingpedro @jackie923 @janeie87

@jeewrites @jensensational71 @jessthebaker @jessthebaker @joels-darlin

@kate-skates @katw474 @kels976 @lady-bess @gwendibleywrites

@ladyofmidlo72 @lizzie-cakes @madnessofadaydreamer @maggiemoo1892 

[mysterious-musings]

Taglist reblog 3:

@papipascaaaal @shadowpandas @tangled-tumbler-blog-blog @you-give-aspirin-headaches @jollybhie 

@sunshinehaze1 @diamondclit0ris @midnightbabylon @nerdieforpedro @cheyennerenee10

@brittmb115 @sunnytuliptime @beboldbebravethings @0-moonbeam-0 @tintinn16

@kellybelly1978  @lu62  @mystickittytaco @danilg21 @indiegirlunited

@76bookworm76 @courtneychachi069 @ifdybadgirlsdiw

[indiegirlunited]

Love the teaser for your next chapter and the pictures are breathtaking. Also, can’t wait to read the next chapter and again thanks for tagging me into the post

[mysterious-musings]

Thanks, friend and you are very welcome! 😘

That place is amazing! Best visual inspiration ever! Hopefully you won’t have to wait too much longer! 💜

[mountainsandmayhem]

Pairing: Millionaire Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: 18+ 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

Updated Word Count: ~90k

Series Summary: After recently graduating from university, your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. It’s only temporary and a good way to save money for when you go back to get your law degree. That’s what you’re promised at least. Easy. Simple. Mundane. That is, until one of your clients is home and everything that you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

Content Warning: In order to avoid spoilers I will not be warning you of everything. This story will contain sexually explicit material around the world of BDSM. Please remember that even with the age gap betweeen Joel and Reader, they are both legal and consenting adults. Although my intentions are never to trigger anyone, you are solely responsible for the content you consume. That being said, as a survivor of sexual assault none of this story will contain dubcon or consensual non consent. At the heart of it all, this is a love story.

AN: I figured that @mermaidgirl30, @littlevenicebitch69, @burntheedges and @joelmillerisapunk are all sick of me yelling at them about this story so I should start sharing! Thank you to the 4 of you for all your kind words and encouragement. To the 800+ of you that follow me, thank you for being such beautiful souls and encouraging me to work on my craft. I hope you love this series as much as I love each and every one of you. Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 - Part One

Chapter 5 - Part Two

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Epilogue

Follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates and turn on notifications for updates.

[secretelephanttattoo-deactivate]

Welcome to the Neighbourhood

marcus pike masterlist | A03 link | Mature | 3k words

Pairing: Marcus Pike x OFC Fern

Summary: Marcus's new neighbour has caught his attention.

Themes/warnings: I'm leaning heavily into the romcom here with a few mishaps and misunderstandings along the way. Burnt cookies. British spellings (you'll prize the letter U from my cold dead hands). Parks and Recreation references throughout. Big snogs on the sofa guest starring some spicy wandering hands.

A/N: This was written for @burntheedges Summer Tunes Writing Challenge . Thanks for hosting, Kate! My song prompt for Marcus was Romanticism by Retrofile and I used these lyrics as my inspiration:

I wanna catch you at the right time

Not a weekday or a work night

But you're always busy, and never home.

Underneath the moonlight, I could turn it on

Driving back to your house, to your favourite song

A generation of romantics

Getting caught up in semantics

Foolish love comes off too strong

Think you're afraid of really trying

To show the feelings that you're hiding

Why do I waste my time at all?

Moving day

It had taken Marcus a few days to realise that someone new had moved into the townhouse next door to his. He was working such long hours, and his only interactions with his previous neighbour would be him banging on their shared wall when the sounds of action movies blared through the plasterboard and shook the pictures from their nails.

Day 1

He’d come home that particular evening, with a sweaty plastic bag of take-out Chinese food hanging from his fingers, and couldn’t quite work out what felt different. It was quiet, he eventually realised. He could only hear the low hum of the cars outside and the buzz of his empty refrigerator. He’d eaten his chow mein perched on the edge of his couch. Spooned straight from the carton, not even the dignity of a fork let alone chopsticks, his tie loosened but not removed like he wasn’t planning on staying.

The TV next door had turned on an hour later, and he’d braced himself for the screeching of tyres and firing of guns, but it hadn’t come. What he’d heard instead was the upbeat theme tune of Parks and Recreation, and he’d thought approvingly that perhaps the guy next door had finally got some taste.

Day 2

He’d come home in a bad mood. He was tired of pulling out all the stops on cases that felt increasingly soulless. The job that had once felt vibrant and fulfilling was sliding ever quicker into grey sludge.

There was a yellow post-it note stuck to the weathered wooden panel about his doorbell, the breeze making it blink like the light on a life jacket.

‘Hey neighbour! Just moved in and came by to say Hi. If I’m not here I’ll be at the animal hospital - staff, not a patient (mostly). Catch you again sometime! Fern & Morris.’

Fern and Morris, they certainly sounded a little more wholesome than the last tenant.

Day 3

Their paths crossed on their shared driveway when Marcus got home from the office at an hour so late that he didn’t know whether to have dinner or just skip straight to breakfast. Her: an orange VW Bug, Marcus: a black BMW. He preferred her car, if he was honest. Didn’t think a daisy on top of his car antenna would quite work.

Exhausted as he was, he couldn’t help noticing a kind of brightness coming from her. It lit up a foolish part of his brain like a switchboard. How someone could look that good in paint splattered overalls and flip-flops, he had no idea, but as soon as she looked up and her face cracked into a crooked grin he felt like he was being blinded.

She’d looked embarrassed when he’d introduced himself and shaken her hand. “Are you always this formal?” She’d teased.

“Actually, yes.” He’d laughed, self-consciously rubbing the back of his neck.

“Nice suit.” She looked him up and down approvingly “You work for the FBI?”

“Thanks. Yeah, how did you-?”

“This was a dead giveaway.” She’d smiled, lifting up the end of his work lanyard with her fingertips. “That and the fact that half the neighbourhood do. I’m never planning on locking my doors.”

“You got me.” He’d shrugged. “So have you settled in OK?”

“I think so, Morris might take a little more time. He’s a crotchety sort.”

Ah, yes, Morris. That threw ice water over that prickle of excitement that had stirred in his head.

“Well, if you need anything…”

“Yep, I know where to find you. I’ll knock three times. Oh, and Marcus?” She’d called as he turned to leave. “You might wanna get some oil on your bed frame, I can hear it squeaking from my room. Could get…awkward.”

Marcus’s neck had flushed pink. “I could pretend I’m living the wild bachelor dream, but it’s actually just work induced insomnia. Lotta tossing.”

“Lots indeed.” She’d snorted.

Day 4

Marcus was watching a Netflix documentary on elephants when he heard a hurried knock on his door. He’d opened it to find a plate of misshapen and mostly burnt cookies and another yellow post-it on his door mat.

‘Do NOT judge me on these, the oven in this place is possessed. Nearly burnt Morris’s face off. It’s the thought that counts! Fern.’

He’d pinned the post-it to the refrigerator, on top of the first one, with a hideous coconut shaped magnet his sister had brought him back from Hawaii, then flopped onto the couch and unpaused the TV. Twenty minutes later, 3 knocks rapped against the wall behind him. Amused, he’d stretched his arm up and knocked back.

Day 5

He was disappointed not to see her car on the drive when he left for work. He’d written three different iterations of a thank you note from a stack of index cards he’d found in his desk drawer to return with her plate. The first two were crumpled in the trash — too formal and businesslike — the third he’d relaxed into a bit more, been more Marcus and less Agent Pike.

‘Truly the WORST cookies I’ve ever had, and yet I ate them all. I have a sweet tooth and no shame. M.’

He’d spent his whole drive to work chewing over whether he should have included ‘say Hi to Morris, be good to meet him too.’ He’d have a chance to rectify that soon enough he supposed.

Day 6

That day’s post-it was blue and rectangular.

‘I work a 12 hour shift and come home to find an empty plate on my doorstep? I have been the victim of a drive-by bakery theft, surely? I’ll alert the HOA.’

Another note was scribbled on the back. He’d almost missed it but spotted it as he stuck it under the magnet.

‘Could I hear you crying through the wall the other night? Elephants, right? They get me every time, too. Do NOT let me watch Dumbo.’

He’d plucked up the courage to knock on her front door this time, but the curtains were drawn, and the house had the quiet atmosphere of shift worker sleep that he didn’t want to disturb.

Day 7

He heard Ron Swanson’s voice booming through their shared wall asking for “All the bacon and eggs that you have” as he made himself a suddenly lacklustre looking piece of toast. He checked his watch and saw he was running uncharacteristically late after he’d actually started sleeping better again. He grabbed another card before he headed out.

‘I wasn’t crying. I was having an allergic reaction to your cookies.’ Then, a brainwave just as he bounced to the door to stick his note to her door. ‘You should both come by later - Burt Macklin.’

Day 8 & 9

Her car didn’t move, but there were no notes and no knocks. He felt oddly deflated.

Day 10

Marcus was up a ladder, clearing leaves from his overflowing gutters when Fern’s voice almost startled him into a heap on the ground.

“Hey Macklin, there’s a set of five Spiderman underpants on the communal washing line, I assume they’re yours?”

He hopped back onto solid ground, a smirk on his lips.

“That’s classified information.” He said.

“Mm. Thought so.” She craned her head to peek at his ass in his joggers. “Can’t see any seams there, I’m guessing you’re going commando. Either that or you’re wearing a thong.”

“I’ll leave it to your imagination.” He’d shot back before he could stop himself. He needed to stop himself. This was veering dangerously towards flirting, and quite frankly, once he started that he didn’t tend to put the brakes on until it was too late.

“So, laundry day?” He’s asked, steering them back to safer territory.

She’d nodded towards the basket under her arm. “Yup. I’m wrangling a litter of foster kittens so I’m going through blankets quicker than I can turn them around. Morris is not happy at all. Doesn’t like his routine being out of whack.”

“Is he one of those ‘dinner on the table at 6 PM’ guys?” Marcus had asked, as casually as possible. Hunting for reasons to dislike this man he’d never met.

“Something like that. Though if I can get him not to eat on the couch and make a damn mess, I class that as a win.”

“I’ll let you get on, then.” Marcus said, wiping his leaf-grubby hands on his t-shirt. He could have sworn her saw her shoulders sag a little.

Day 11

Sunday stretched out before him, long and empty. He should call his Mom, maybe catch up on some paperwork, and iron a shirt for tomorrow. This was not the kind of domesticity that he enjoyed. It was all so solitary.

He was draining his third coffee of the day and swirling the gounds at the bottom of the cup that hadn’t been caught by the filter when he heard a crash and a raised exasperated voice through the wall.

“Oh, Morris! Not my grandmother’s vase!”

Marcus had leapt off the couch and was striding out of the door before he really knew what he was doing. He aimed for a knock on her door that was assertive but polite.

Fern answered looking harassed, and looking…wait, why was her top wriggling like that?

“I heard something and I wanted to check if - are you OK?” Marcus couldn’t keep his eyes of what was happening under her t-shirt.

“Oh, it’s nothing, I’m just keeping some orphaned squirrels warm.” She lifted her shirt and flashed him both her bra and a bundle of small furry bodies.

“Right, of course you are.” He laughed, shaking his head.

“I’d invite you in, but Morris is sulking upstairs and not really in a visitors mood, and I’ve got to feed my lingerie litter in another 10 minutes.” She’d grimaced and nodded to her chest.

“Not to worry. I just wanted to check if you were alright.” He had to strain to keep his tone breezy.

There was a level of chaos about Fern that was as compelling as it was confusing. It was safe to say that he had never met anymore like her before, and maybe that was why she’d gotten under his skin in the way she had.

Day 12

Fern had been crouched down on the scrubby patch of lawn in front of her window, wrist deep in some window box planters, so Marcus hadn’t spotted her as he rushed out of the house. He had one hand already on the car door handle when her sing-song voice calling out to him made him look up.

“Nice jeans, agent! Where are you off to?”

“Dinner.” The word curdled in his stomach. He’d been putting of being set up with one of his sister’s work colleagues for weeks now, but had figured he might as well give it a chance seeing as his radar seemed all off of late.

There was that look again. That sort of dimming behind her eyes.

“Have a good night.” She’d smiled as he raised his hand in salute.

His date had been… not a disaster necessarily, but Marcus couldn’t remember the last time an evening with a beautiful woman had left him that cold. She was perfectly nice, ticked all of his boxes in all honestly, but he’d felt like he was going through the motions and was relieved when she’d declined dessert and he could ask for the bill. He knew something was off when he found himself swerving her Merlot scented kiss on the lips in favour of a polite peck on the cheek.

It wasn’t until he pulled onto his street and felt the corners of his mouth lift into a smile at the sight of an extremely badly parked orange car that he realised what had been missing. He decided then that he needed to snuff out this flame that was licking under his skin. He wasn’t a man who shared, and he certainly wasn’t one who'd cheat. He’d go over there tomorrow, meet this Morris, and turn this fictional obstacle into a real man. Who knew, they might even become friends eventually.

Day 13

Marcus had to knock on Fern’s door with the heel of his shoe as his arms were so laden with a six pack of beers, a large container of chocolate brownies that he’d had to leave work early to snag from the bakery, and an edible fruit arrangement perched precariously on top.

“Did you reverse into my car or something?” Fern said, smiling as she took the exotic bouquet from the pile and ushered him inside.

“Belated housewarming gifts.” Marcus said, dropping the other items onto her kitchen counter. “I figured flowers were a no-go, seeing as your vase got broken. You’ve been pretty clear that I owe you baked goods, and I thought perhaps Morris and I could share a beer or something.”

Fern’s eyebrows rose as she called out. “Morris, can you come here buddy?”

A frankly enormous Newfoundland dog came padding into the room and took a tentative sniff at Marcus’s shoes.

“He’s more of a rum drinker, but thank you for the gesture.” Fern smiled.

“This is Morris?” Marcus laughed, running a hand over his jaw. “I thought he was-”

“What?”

“Well, human.” Marcus said. “And your partner.”

“Nope, and nope.” She scratched Morris behind his greying ears. “Although he has set the bar pretty high in terms of companionship.”

Fern’s eyes were flashing wickedly at Marcus now.

“Do you want to stay for a brownie?” She asked. “I was just about to watch some TV, but you can tell me all about how your date went last night. I didn’t hear any creaking through the wall, so I’m guessing not great?”

“Right, yeah, it was a bit of a flop.” Marcus shrugged, kicking off his shoes and lining them up by the door. “Wouldn’t even fill a commercial break with the details, but I’ll join you for a bite.”

The two of them sat on opposite ends of her couch with the food between them, the unopened beers abandoned in favour of two glasses of iced tea. Fern sat cross-legged, and Marcus noticed how bright pink nail polish on her toes matched her shirt.

“Do you have any live animals on your person today?” He asked.

Fern glanced down at her chest. “Nope. Nothing underneath here except the best tits in the neighbourhood.”

Marcus’s drink had almost come out of his nose. “Bold claim.” He’d choked.

“I know what I’ve got.” She chewed the inside of her cheek. “Know what you’ve got, too.”

“What’s that?”

“Best little ass on the street, from what I’ve seen so far. And believe me I’ve been looking.”

“I’ll take that.” Marcus said, moving closer to her on the couch.

She scooted up from her end, too. “Good. Glad we got that all straightened out.”

“So what are we watching?”

Fern grabbed the remote and flicked through the channels, the tip of her tongue poking out in concentration. “Ooo, I can’t scroll past a re-run of Parks and Recs. You in?”

“Yep. Love it.”

It was the episode with the Snake Juice, but Marcus wouldn’t have cared which it was. He only wanted to hear her wheezy laugh over and over again.

“Commercial break! Time for you to spill the details on last night.” Fern reminded him with an elbow jab.

“It was fine. She was nice.” He said, keeping his eyes fixed on the TV, his mouth suddenly a little dry.

“But…?” Fern did a rolling gesture with her hands.

Marcus shifted on the couch and took one of her hands in his, stroking his thumb over the knuckle of hers. “But she wasn’t you.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Fern beamed. “I thought you’d given me the brush off.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were available.”

“I’m curious,” she said with a lift of her chin, “if I'd had some 6ft boyfriend hiding in the back, what would you have done?”

“Befriended him.” Marcus scratched his chin in thought. “Then had him killed.”

“Wow.” Fern snorted. “Didn’t know the bureau sanctioned that kind of thing.”

“Well we only get one now. Damn budget cuts.”

“Mm.” She nodded, her gaze slipping towards the TV. “Would you look at that, break’s over.”

She’d slid under his arm by the time the next episode had finished. He could smell her minty shampoo and feel the heat of her cheek burning against his chest as she raked her nails lazily along the indigo denim on his thighs.

“Hey.” He squeezed her hand, and she turned to look up at him, all light and sparkle. “Come here.”

No jokes that time, no quirked eyebrows. Just her spinning around so that he could take her face in his hands and pull her up on top of him until his lips were on hers and her fingers were twined in his hair. He heard her breath hitch, felt his hips lift in response as their tongues found one another.

Hemlines were toyed with by eager fingertips until he snaked his hand under her shirt to unhook her bra. Hers were faster, fumbling, and as she undid his belt with a clink, he thought ‘I really love this neighbourhood.’

Thank you to my cheer squad on this one @schnarfer @whocaresstillthelouvre and @maggiemayhemnj

Tagging some folks who usually enjoy a bit of El's Marcus (hope you don't mind):

@the-blind-assassin-12 @mothandpidgeon @pascalssbabyy @toomanytookas

@harriedandharassed @imdrinkingpedro @inept-the-magnificent

@chujo-hime @ishabull @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain @sin-djarin

@sawymredfox @trulybetty @jennaispunk @katareyoudrilling @bitchesuntitled

@sunnytuliptime @theravenreads @insomniamamma @yopossum @thundermartini

@5oh5 @msjarvis @oliveksmoked @axshadows @casa-boiardi

@tuquoquebrute @kirsteng42 @almostfoxglove @guiltyasdave @purplerain04

@medellintangerine @enchantingchildkitten @iknowisoundcrazy @bergamote-catsandbooks @milla-frenchy

[sawymredfox]

I loved this so much! Your Marcus, you always picture him with such care and love, it’s a joy to read it. He was yearning from the first second he saw her! And Fern! She’s so funny and quirky. You made me fall so hard for her, the chaos and animals that surround her -how she talks of Morris and the baby squirrels she takes care of. It made me connect so much with her. And the ending!! “But she wasn’t you.” I’m swooning! It was brilliant! Thank you for sharing it and making me smile so much as I read it!❤️❤️❤️

[secretelephanttattoo-deactivate]

Well, you had me grinning with your comments here, so thank you so much, Wym!

Yearning, joy, love...that's my favourite song 🫠

[musings-of-a-rose]

Meet the Millers Masterlist - NEW CHAPTERS COMING APRIL 16TH, 2025!

Moving into the Boston Quarantine Zone after nearly 20 years on the outside takes some adjusting. A misdirection one night guides you to the 3 men who will change the course of your life.

Benny Miller x Will Miller x Joel Miller x f!reader

Overall rating: M for mature themes. 18+ only!

*UPDATE MARCH 2025: I am officially continuing this series after 3 years of debating! “Part 2” will pick up on Chapter 12, only a short bit after the ending of Chapter 11 (despite me taking 3 years to write it lol)

*Also note this was written before the release of the show!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11 (this is where the fic originally ended in March 2021)

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Extras:

Video Edit made by @livingmydreams13

Video edit made by @livingmydreams13

[riddleswhcre-deactivated2025062]

Joel miller fucking you hard while ranting about his day and not realizing that you almost passed out from too much orgasms

────۶ৎ too many times

joel doesn’t realise how many times he’s made you cum. not until you start slippin under.

warnings: smut, rough sex, overstimulation, joel ranting mid-fuck.

ᐟᐟ ⟢ a/n: joel rantin while wreckin you???? pls keep feeding me this good shit. thank you for your servic

ᖭ༏ᖫ

joel doesn’t mean to fuck you dumb. he really don’t. he just comes home pissed, shoulders tight, boots stompin through the front door like the floor insulted him personally.

you ask him how his day was, sweet and soft like you always do, and he just grabs you by the hips like he’s starvin.

“fuckin useless,” he growls, breath hot on your neck as he hauls you onto the bed. “whole crew’s full of dumb fucks—tryna carry steel like it weighs nothin. could feel my back givin out just watchin.”

his belt’s off, pants shoved down, cock already hard and angry red at the tip. you’re soaked just from the sound of his voice, that edge of southern grit makin your thighs press together. he slides in with no warning, thick and deep, and your body gives like it always does—greedy for him.

“ain’t even lunch,” he huffs, settlin his weight over you, slow-rollin his hips like he’s got all the time in the world. “n’ i’m already dealin with shit. got one guy droppin tools, another one disappearin to piss every five minutes. swear to god—jesus, baby, you’re tight.”

you can’t answer. your mouth’s open, eyes flutterin, arms limp above your head. he grabs your wrists, pins ‘em down, starts fuckin you hard—not mean, but rough like he needs it. needs you. each stroke knocks the breath out your lungs, the head of his cock hittin deep enough to make your toes curl.

“y’ain’t even listenin, huh?” he chuckles, breathless, hand comin up to cradle your jaw. “too cockdrunk to care.”

you nod, or try to. don’t even know if it happens. all you know is you’re clenchin again, cryin out as another orgasm tears through you—your fifth? maybe sixth. your thighs tremble, your cunt flutterin round him, wet and swollen and overstimmed. he doesn’t slow. just fucks you through it like he’s still ventin, brows furrowed, sweat drippin onto your chest.

“you takin it so good, baby,” he mutters. “fuck. should come home angry more often.”

you’re barely conscious—floatin somewhere between bliss and blackout, lips glossy, babblin his name. he finally looks at your face, sees your eyes rolled back, sees the tears on your cheeks.

“shit. baby? hey—hey, y’alright?” his voice cracks, rough but soft underneath. “look at me. need you with me, darlin.”

your lips part, breath hitchin, and you manage one tiny, ruined moan: “keep goin…”

and fuck, does he.

ᖭ༏ᖫ

thank you for reading. reblogs & feedback appreciated.

[mysterious-musings]

Closed Position Masterlist

Last Updated 05/01/2025 ||| Dieter Bravo x OFC

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo, now sober, was looking to change his bad boy image after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition, Dancing with the Stars, would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble. 

Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dancer on the show to go the same as it had for the past thirteen seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo. 

Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.

👉 Warnings: Sexual tension, mutual pining, angst, so much smut (we get a little dom and sub Dieter, intimacy, use of a sex toy, sex acts in public, spanking...really it's all too much to list here - it's Dieter, use your imagination), spicy language, themes dealing with intimate partner violence (not by Dieter), past alcohol abuse, past drug abuse, and shitty parents. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Cat dad / plant dad Dieter comes with his own warnings.

EXTRAS | TEASERS | VIBES | ASKS | PLAYLIST

Prologue

Week 1 - Introductions

Week 2 - Foxtrot

Week 3 - Cha Cha (Part 1)

Week 3 - Cha Cha (Part 2)

Week 4 - Jive (Part 1)

Week 4 - Jive (Part 2)

Week 5 - Rumba (Part 1)

Week 5 - Rumba (Part 2)

Week 5 - Rumba (Part 3)

Week 5 - Rumba (Part 4)

Week 6 - Argentine Tango

Week 7 - Paso Doble

Week 8 - Viennese Waltz

Week 9 - Jazz

Week 10 - Quickstep

Week 11 - Samba

Week 12 - Finale

Epilogue

✨DIETER’S INSTAGRAM STORIES | POSTS

✨KATARINA’S INSTAGRAM STORIES | POSTS

✨TEXTS WITH DIETER SERIES HERE (NSFW)

✨PLANT DADDY DIETER FINDS HERE (NSFW)

🪩 Enjoying this fic? Check out my others HERE.

If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments or shoot me a DM.

Credits: Star divider courtesy of @saradika Sparkle chapter dividers courtesy of @deadbranch Support dividers/MDNI courtesy of @cafekitsune

[mountainsandmayhem]

Pairing: Millionaire Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: 18+ 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

Updated Word Count: ~90k

Series Summary: After recently graduating from university, your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. It’s only temporary and a good way to save money for when you go back to get your law degree. That’s what you’re promised at least. Easy. Simple. Mundane. That is, until one of your clients is home and everything that you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

Content Warning: In order to avoid spoilers I will not be warning you of everything. This story will contain sexually explicit material around the world of BDSM. Please remember that even with the age gap betweeen Joel and Reader, they are both legal and consenting adults. Although my intentions are never to trigger anyone, you are solely responsible for the content you consume. That being said, as a survivor of sexual assault none of this story will contain dubcon or consensual non consent. At the heart of it all, this is a love story.

AN: I figured that @mermaidgirl30, @littlevenicebitch69, @burntheedges and @joelmillerisapunk are all sick of me yelling at them about this story so I should start sharing! Thank you to the 4 of you for all your kind words and encouragement. To the 800+ of you that follow me, thank you for being such beautiful souls and encouraging me to work on my craft. I hope you love this series as much as I love each and every one of you. Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 - Part One

Chapter 5 - Part Two

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Epilogue

Follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates and turn on notifications for updates.

[mountainsandmayhem]

Little Dove - A Series

(Joel Miller x female!reader)

18+

Series Summary: After sending both your daughters off to college, you and Joel find yourself to be empty nesters in your early 40’s. However, all that alone time has it’s perks, most of which are kinky.

TW: reach each chapters for specific warnings. 18+

A/N: The love I received from the first story has sent my brain into high gear. I have zero timeline for these stories and they may not come out in the order listed below. The story summaries could change as I write. 🙏🏻 please let me know which you’re most excited for or if you want to be tagged 🙏🏻

🤍🕊️🤍 •• 🤍🕊️🤍 •• 🤍🕊️🤍 •• 🤍🕊️🤍

You’re Mine, Little Dove

A walk at night starts with ropes, blindfolds, and ends with the best orgasms of your life, and an even better twist at the end.

Kink: Predator/Prey

Stay Still, Little Dove

Joel reminds you that his wishes are your commands during an interesting bet between you two.

Kink: Vibrator Torture, Pleasure Dom

Taste Her, Little Dove

Joel watches as you explore a new side of yourself.

You’re a Brat, Little Dove

At your 25-year high school reunion, an old classmates is enamoured with your partner; you can’t say that you blame her, but it sparks enough jealousy for you to decide to get Joel’s attention.

Kink: Brat Tamer, Spanking, Dom/Sub

Do Your Worst, Little Dove

Joel gets a taste of his own medicine.

Kink: Role reversal, domme/sub

Merry Christmas, Little Dove

You and Joel fuck in front of the Christmas tree

Kink: Dom/Sub

You're Perfect, Little Dove

Insecurities from the past send you spiralling in a way that only Joel can fix.

Kink: Praise, Pleasure Dom

Touch Yourself, Little Dove

Joel discovers how much he likes to watch.

Kink: Voyeurism

Additional Materials

Thank You @survivingandenduring for this GORGEOUS edit of Joel and his Little Dove.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 22 pt.1- Plus One

Summary: One weekday in September, you and Javi learn that your family is getting a very welcomed addition to your family

Word Count: 15.2K

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex, oral (f receiving) vaginal fingering, praise kink, breeding kink (listen... she's already pregnant, but Javi's an optimist LOL), general talk of pregnancy, doctor's appointment, nausea/morning sickness, Dad to be!Javi makes me weak in the mf'in knees (I'm being so fr, the man is built to be a dad), The Murphy's/Chucho/Your family may have a gambling problem

A/N: This is me bracing myself for y'all to throw rotten fruit at me in the public square while you boo and his because this literally took 6 months AND I AM SO DEEPLY, TRULY SORRY ABOUT IT 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 Me and this chapter have been in a wrestling match since November, but she's finally here!!! I'm planning on splitting up Javi and Osita's pregnancy journey by trimester, so this chapter is months 1-3, next chapter will be months 4-6, etc... I know I sound like a broken record, but the love that you guys have shown this story and these characters legit makes me want to cry, I think part of the reason this took so long is bc after this, there's only two more chapters before NTL is a wrap, and that's a very weird thing to say. So regardless, I just wanna say I love y'all and love getting to share this story with you and I'm just feeling really sappy about it 🥹💛 OKAY ANYWAYS, YOU CAN CONTINUE WITH THE BOOING AND TOMATO PELTING, I'M SORRY AGAIN!!!!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

Month 1 

“I swear to God, if I’m already getting sick two weeks into the school year, I’m gonna cry.” 

Finding yourself hunched over your toilet bowl at 6:30 A.M. was not the way you were planning to start your Wednesday morning, but after tossing and turning for the past hour in bed with a terrible pit in your stomach, you didn’t feel like you had much of a choice. 

Being the light sleeper and worry wart he was, Javi was up with you, despite your best attempts to tell him to go back to bed, considering there was nothing he could do for your upset stomach besides watch you vomit repeatedly into your toilet. Trying his best to stay awake without his mandatory dose of morning coffee, Javi sat on the bathroom floor next to you, still in nothing but his boxers as he simultaneously rubbed the sleep out of his eyes with one hand and your back with another. 

“I think I’m just gonna start wearing a hazmat suit to school.” You sighed, sitting up a little straighter, starting to feel at least a little bit of relief after feeling like you had finally emptied the last of anything left in your stomach. “I think that’s the last of it for now. Fuck, I gotta take a shower before I do anything else to get ready.” 

“Get ready? Osita, you just spent an hour throwing up. You should be taking the day off.” Javi shot up, your proposition now making him fully awake, shocked that you would even consider going into work after the events of this morning. 

With a remorseful grunt, you pushed yourself off the bathroom floor, trying to stretch and shake out any remainder of your sickness  as you stepped over Javi to turn on the shower. 

“Jav, it’s more work for me to call in sick and make sub plans than it will be for me to just go into school. I don’t even have my normal plans ready since it’s the beginning of the school year. Worst case, Maria can watch my class if I need to throw up again, or very worst case, I bring in the rolling TV cart and put on Bill Nye the Science Guy for them.” You sighed, stripping yourself of your pajamas and tossing them on the floor before pushing open the shower curtain and slipping under the steaming flow of hot water. 

“Jesus Christ…” Javi whispered under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration at your stubbornness. “Honey, I’m just worried that-” 

“Javi, I’ll be fine. You gonna write my sub plans and teach for me today? If that’s the case, go right ahead and I’ll stay home. Seriously?” You snapped, a little more sass in your tone than you had intended, your frustrations more at the circumstances of your job and less at Javi’s suggestion. You stood in silence for a moment, the rhythmic splash of the water from the showerhead hitting the floor of the tub as your stomach began to fill with guilt in the way you had responded to Javi after he had spent his whole morning sitting beside you in the bathroom while you threw up. 

“I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” You muttered, pushing back the shower curtain to look at Javi, jaw shifting back and forth as he grinded on his teeth, trying his best to make sure his lack of sleep and coffee didn’t turn the rest of the morning into a war zone because of your comment. 

“It’s okay, Osita. What can I do to help?” 

“Can you make me breakfast?” You asked sheepishly, tears starting to well in your eyes that you had taken your anger out on Javi, and despite that, he was still offering to help. 

“Of course, baby. What do you want?” 

“Just eggs and toast.” 

“Okay. Just worry about getting ready and I’ll take care of everything else. I love you.” Javi smiled, giving your arm a little squeeze. 

Suddenly, a wave of emotion seemed to crash through your body, your wet, teary eyes now transforming to full on sobs, feeling such an intense combination of guilt and appreciation for how wonderful your husband was, and how terrible you felt that you had reacted to him the way that you did.

Just as soon as Javi was about to get up and make you breakfast while you fought to get yourself ready for work, he was back, crouched down next to you as he heard the sound of your soft sniffles and tears. 

“Baby, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Javi asked, concern flooding his face, reaching up to wipe your wet cheek with his thumb as he cradled your jaw. 

“I’m so sorry I was so mean about that, I- I- I know you’re just trying to help. Sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You sighed, shaking your head and trying to laugh off your teary state. “I’m fine. I didn’t mean to get so mad at you, I don’t know why I’m so all over the place right now.” 

“Hermosa, it’s okay. I promise. Why don’t you get in the shower, I’ll make you breakfast, and pack up all your stuff for this morning.” Javi smiled softly, pressing a soft kiss into your messy, morning bed head before exiting the bathroom, leaving you to finally start getting ready for the day. 

After a pain-stakingly nauseous shower, followed by eating approximately two bites of toast and no eggs, you somehow managed to make it to school on time, but spent the entirety of the day fighting for your life as waves of stomach pain and exhaustion crashed through you. As if teaching wasn’t tiring enough in itself, trying to wrangle 26 3rd graders while holding back the little you ate of your breakfast was enough to completely knock you on your ass by lunch time, leaving you to lock yourself in your room after dropping your students off at the cafeteria, praying that the hour of peace and quiet would help you make it through the rest of the day. 

Unfortunately, even with your door locked, your nosy co-workers needed to investigate why you hadn’t shown up to the staff lounge to eat, and were soon knocking on your window to demand answers for your absence. 

“Mija, what’s going on? Why aren’t you at lunch?” Maria demanded as she barged through your door, quickly followed by Estelle and Linda. “I’ve been dying to tell you about what Carlos’s younger brother did today during math and- Oh, cariño, you look terrible.” Maria’s train of thought seemed to come to a complete halt as soon as she locked eyes with you, hunched over your desk with heavy eyes and grimaced face. 

“Rude, Maria, dios mío.” Linda groaned, giving Maria a sharp jab to her ribs at her friend’s bluntness before looking over at you, trying her best not to comment as directly at your disheveled appearance. “No offense, honey, but you look like you do not feel well at all. Are you okay?” 

“It’s fine, I feel terrible so I’m sure I don’t look any better.” You huffed, scrunching your face as you stood up, trying to fight your nausea as you came to your feet. “I’ve been throwing up all morning, and when I’m not throwing up, I feel so nauseous that I want to throw up.” 

“Mija, why are you not at home?! I need to come over and smack some sense into that husband of yours for letting you go to work today.” Maria scolded, glaring at you with disapproval, arms crossed against her chest. 

“It’s not Javi’s fault, he tried to get me to stay home today too, but you guys know what a pain it is to make sub plans. It was just easier to come in today.” You sighed, your eyes traveling back and forth between your co-workers in front of you and the trash can beside your desk, feeling an uncomfortable lump creeping up from your stomach and into your throat. 

“So Javi’s not sick?” Estelle asked, shaking your head no silently in response. 

“Well it’s probably not food poisoning then…” Linda pondered, trying to diagnose your ailments, “unless you ate the grilled cheese they were serving in the cafeteria yesterday, because that definitely looked questionable. No kids in your class with the stomach bug? Chucho’s not sick?” 

You shook your head no again, this time, your eyes solely locked on the trash can, trying with everything in you to keep down whatever was bubbling up. 

The women stood quietly, thinking to themselves to try and come up with a solution for your sickness, seemingly stumped, until an ear to ear grin began to creep across Maria’s face. 

“Maybe it is Javi’s fault.” 

“Aye, aye, aye, Maria, what do you think the man did, try to poison her?” Estelle asked, the rest of you staring at Maria in complete confusion as to how Javi had anything to do with your current state. 

It was then that Linda suddenly seemed to catch on to Maria’s subtle suggestion, her smile lighting up just as bright as her co-workers while you stood there in an ever nauseous confusion. 

“What am I missing?” Estelle  asked, looking back and forth between Linda and Maria, the two ladies both standing with arms crossed and brows raised, smirking and nodding at their friend. 

“Mija, any chance that you don’t just feel nauseous, hmmm? Perhaps, emotional, tired, achy?” 

“I- I mean, yeah, but it’s the second week of school, Maria, I think everyone is tired and emotional and probably achy, too.” You groaned, scrunching your face and swallowing hard to keep the unpleasant feeling creeping up your throat at bay. 

“Oooooooooohhhhhh.” Estelle cooed, connecting the dots of Maria’s cryptic symptom description, the 3 ladies standing in a giddy mutual suspicion for your current state. 

You stood there, in a silent stare down of confusion, eyes darting back and forth between your giggling co-workers, waiting in an anxious anticipation for you to read their minds and understand why they were suddenly filled with so much glee watching you practically keel over at your desk. 

Suddenly, it hit you. 

A final, violent wave of nausea crashed through you, frantically reaching for your trashcan to bury your face in as you threw up what little you had managed to eat today, your newly emptied stomach making way for a new, very different type of wave than the one you had just experienced. 

An inevitable wave of clarity. A surmounting wave of realization. A wave of piecing together all of the little clues your body had been leaving you. 

Nauseous. 

Tired. 

Emotional. 

Sore. 

And now that you were thinking about it, your period was supposed to have started 3 days ago. 

“Oh my god…” You whispered into your trash can, hands shaking and heart racing out of your chest. “Do you think- Do you think that I’m-” 

“Mija, all I will say, is that when I found out I was pregnant with all three of my boys, I didn’t feel much different from how you are now.” Maria smirked, cutting off the rest of your drawn out thought.

Trying to find any words in your haze of disbelief, the shrill ringing of the lunch bell flooded your classroom, the 4 of you realizing that despite your new revelation, you had classrooms full of children you needed to go retrieve and teach for the rest of the day. 

“Oh, of course this is when the lunch bell decides to ring…” Linda huffed, rolling her eyes as the dinging continued, the ladies now quickly scampering towards the door to avoid getting a scolding from the cafeteria workers about being late to pick up their class because they were chatting. 

“W-wait-” You stammered, slowly trailing behind them, trying to catch their attention before they were too far gone, “Please don’t tell anyone about this. If Chucho or Javi find out before I can tell them, I-” 

“Oh honey, I know we gossip and gab like it’s no one’s business, but all of us have been in your same shoes before and wouldn’t dare ruin your special moment for you, if that’s what it turns out to be.” Estelle smiled, gently rubbing your arm in reassurance, her eyes glistening with a genuine confirmation that your secret was safe with them. 

“Besides,” Maria laughed, subtly lifting her gaze towards the sky, “If we ruined this moment for you and Javi, I think Lucia would find a way to come back from the dead, strike us all down where we stand, then drag us all back with her.” 

“Thank you.” You sighed, softly smiling at your co-workers, grateful for their understanding, a small twinge of sadness behind all of your laughter, knowing how excited Javi’s mom would have been to find out there was a chance she was finally getting the grandchild she had always longed for. 

“Now go, get out whatever is left of your lunch before the kids come back. We’ll get them from the lunchroom. Lord knows that you could be crawling towards your death bead and those little monsturos (monsters) wouldn’t show you any mercy.” 

As if perfectly on cue, another unpleasant grumble began to growl in your stomach, hunching back over your poor trash can as your co-workers scurried away, leaving you to ponder how in the world you were going to make it through this afternoon if the nerve wracking suspense, or more likely, knee-buckling nausea, didn’t kill you first. 

Some way or another, you managed to make it to the last bell, locking up your classroom and sprinting out to your car before the last busses had even left, driving like a NASCAR racer to the nearest drugstore. You left CVS with no less than 3 different types of pregnancy tests, not wanting to take any chances that something strange or faulty was going to stop you from getting the answers you had been dying to know since lunch. 

The rest of your ride home was a terribly unsettling mixture of nerves and anticipation, wondering if the pounding feeling in your gut was because you actually needed to vomit, or you were just so anxious that you felt like you could at any second regardless. 

As you pulled into your driveway, you were thankful to find that there wasn’t some strange reason that Javi had beaten you home today, grabbing your shopping bag of pregnancy tests from the front seat, and foregoing anything else you had to bring in from your car as you bolted to the front door. 

Your dog, Bear, was ecstatic to greet you upon your return home, his tail wildly wagging and thumping as you walked through your entryway, feeling guilty for not giving him the same amount of prolonged love and attention you normally would when you returned home, rushing him to the backyard to go to the bathroom after being inside all day so you could do the same. 

While Bear trotted around in your backyard, finding a good place to do his business, you were rushing over to your kitchen, rustling through your cupboards to find a cup you wouldn’t be mad had to go to waste because it had been filled with your pee. Eventually, you were able to find an old, chipped “Everything is Bigger in Texas” mug, with letters so faded that you honestly were even unaware of its existence until this point. Worst case, if it was a special mug that Javi secretly loved, you were sure a positive pregnancy test would warrant its use to be filled with your urine. 

Bear let out a happy bark at the backdoor, stumbling his way into the house and immediately gluing himself to your side, practically in lock step with you as you grabbed your mug and CVS bag before making your way up the stairs to your bedroom, plowing open the attached bathroom door to spread your contents all over the countertop. 

Normally, you would have been a little annoyed that Bear had followed you into the bathroom and plopped himself down right next to your feet as you sat on the toilet, awkwardly shifting the mug between your legs, focusing as hard as you could to pee, but there was something calming about your big, goofy, golden retriever settling right beside you, keeping you company. 

After you had finished peeing way more than probably needed into the cup, you carefully set it next to you on the counter, grabbing each box of pregnancy tests and opening them to read the instruction manual inside before plucking a wrapped test out of each. 

Your hands were shaking so badly at this point, you were shocked you hadn’t dropped anything yet, because knowing your luck, it would have been the cup of pee all over your bathroom floor. Carefully, you unwrapped each of your 3 tests with trembling hands, uncapping each before dipping them into the yellow liquid, ready to embark on the longest 5 minutes and 15 seconds of your life. 

“1… 2… 3… 4… 5…” 

“1… 2… 3… 4… 5…” 

“1… 2… 3… 4… 5…” 

With all of your tests dipped, you flipped them face down, looking over at the digital clock by your toothbrushes to see its bright red numbers read “4:52”, readying yourself to count down the seconds until it reached “4:57”. 

Years may have well been passing with each minute that went by, anxiously pacing back and forth across the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, every single emotion you had ever felt in your entire life now festering at the forefront of your mind, feeling like your life was flashing before your eyes, time ticking down before 3 little plastic sticks determined if the course of your life was about to be forever changed. 

The excitement of picturing your belly grow, carrying life that you and Javi had made, knowing what a good father Javi would be, and what an amazing family the two of you, maybe soon to be three of you would have together. 

The anxiety of wondering if you were fit to be a mom, all the mistakes you could make in raising a tiny little human and bringing them into a world you wouldn’t always be able to protect them from. 

The bittersweet melancholy of watching your friends and family embrace your child into their lives, showering it with love and joy, when some of the people that you and Javi had cared about most wouldn’t be there to partake. 

The indescribable feeling of knowing that your life would never be the same- for better, for worse, through the highest highs and lowest lows, your journey would no longer be just about you or Javi, it would be for your own little family. 

You could feel your heart practically beating out of your chest as you paced up and down the length of your bathroom, Bear trailing behind you in lock step as you took your final lap, watching the clock finally hit 4:57. 

For as badly as you wanted to look, you almost couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes, the first test you grabbed still flipped over in your hands, test results facing the bathroom counter. 

You took three deep breaths, each one longer and slower than the last, holding the test in your trembling hands before opening your eyes to see the fate of yours and Javi’s future laying in your palms. Because there in your hands, was the start to the rest of your lives. 

Two pink lines. 

You almost couldn’t believe it, frantically scrambling for the other two tests, flipping them over much more haphazardly than you had the first, praying with everything in you that the first test wasn’t just a fluke. 

Two more sets of two pink lines. 

“Oh my god…. Oh my god?!” You whispered to yourself, tears beginning to well in your eyes in blissful disbelief, mouth shooting over your hand to cover the audible gasp that escaped your lips, now stretched in the widest smile to have ever graced your face. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Oh my god?!” You couldn’t stop chanting it, the phrase spilling out of your mouth as the only sentence your brain could manage to comprehend. 

Holding each test up one at a time, over and over, you kept inspecting them, making sure your eyes weren’t playing some sort of dirty trick on you, that you were imagining the extra line you had wanted so desperately to be there. After holding up each test in every corner of your bathroom, triple checking under any different lighting you could find, there was absolutely no denying that you weren’t crazy or imagining things in the slightest. 

You were pregnant. 

You stared at your tests for what felt like hours, so overwhelmed with joy and emotion by those two pink lines, that there was nothing else in the world that existed in that moment besides you and the new life you had beginning to grow inside you.  Tears welled in your eyes, streaming down your cheeks as you tried to process everything you were feeling, body trembling with astonishment and shock. 

You were going to be a mom. Javi was going to be a dad.  

Javi was going to be a dad. 

Javi. 

Oh my god, you needed to tell Javi. 

The realization struck you enough to rattle you out of your staggered state, heart racing even faster as you came to the realization that you needed to let your husband in on the happiest news of your life. 

So lost in your own world upstairs, you had been paying no attention to the time- For all you knew, past 4:57, time simply didn’t exist anymore. But for everyone else that wasn’t living in your blissfully unaware bubble, including Javi, time existed just as it did on any other day, and the all too familiar of his truck pulling into the garage as the door rumbled open meant that the time of day he made his arrival at home had come. 

When you thought about telling Javi about your pregnancy, you had imagined some sort of cute surprise for him- Balloons, a cute baby onesie, a pregnancy test wrapped up in a box, maybe even a mug with #1 dad on the side. But as Javi’s key turned in the door, his footsteps trailing downstairs, you knew there was no way you could keep your news a secret long enough to even make it out of the bathroom without telling him, and in all actuality, your body was still in such a state of shock that you don’t think it would have let you move, even if you tried. 

“Hey, baby, I’m home!” Javi shouted, tossing his keys and work bag on the kitchen counter, pausing for a moment as he waited for your response. Hearing Javi’s voice, Bear barreled through the bathroom door, sprinting downstairs to greet him, leaving you alone, still frozen in place, pregnancy test in hand. 

“Hey, buddy!” You heard Javi greet your dog from your statue-esq position from the bathroom, “How’s my good boy, huh? Where’s your mom? Osita? Where are you, baby?” With a few happy barks, Bear was scrambling across the hardwood of the kitchen floor, bolting his way back up the stairs, paws thumping with every step. You could hear Javi beginning to follow behind, pace quickening as he followed the path of your dog. 

“Hermosa? You upstairs?” You could sense the concern growing in Javi’s voice at your lack of response, making his way to the top of the stairs. 

It was like the pathway from your brain to your mouth had completely shut down, trying to speak, to say anything to let Javi know where you were, but the sudden wave of nerves that had overtaken your body had only left you more stuck, praying that where you were was the first place he’d come to look. 

“Baby, are you up here? Are you okay?” Javi asked, hearing his voice travel closer to you as he nearly sprinted down the hallway, finding his way to your shared bedroom. Seeing the light beaming out of your bathroom gave him some sense of relief that he may find you there, trying to steady his nervous breathing as he peeked through the doorway. 

“J-Javi-” You sobbed, your tears immediately making Javi wrap his arms around you, embracing you in the tightest hug he could, cradling the back of your head as he held you pressed against his chest. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Shhhhhh, baby, it’s okay. I’m here.” Javi cooed, gently swaying you back and forth in his grasp, giving you a moment to collect yourself as he felt your tears begin to subside. “What’s wrong, Osita? Got me worried sick when I couldn’t find you.” 

His hand shifted to cup your cheek, forcing your gaze up at him, carefully wiping the tears streaming down your cheeks with his thumb, the concern pooling in his big brown eyes only overwhelming you with more emotion. 

You were honestly shocked that Javi hadn’t noticed the test still in your hand or the other two on the bathroom counter, quietly laughing through your happy tears, making Javi cock his head in utter confusion. 

“Osita, what’s going on? Are you okay?” Javi asked, completely puzzled by your response. 

You gently tilted your head towards the bathroom counter where your pregnancy tests lay scattered across its surface. At first, you were convinced that Javi was so concerned about you, he didn’t notice anything suspicious, his eyes quickly darting over to the counter before shifting back to you, his face even more confused than before. 

You nodded back to the counter again, this time making the motion a little more obvious, staring at the tests until Javi’s gaze wandered in the same direction as yours, heart pounding in your chest as you watched his expression shift from complete and utter confusion to absolute disbelief. 

Javi’s hand was trembling as he reached down towards the counter, carefully picking up one of the tests. With two glaringly obvious pink lines staring back at him, Javi’s jaw all but hit the floor while you watched in real time as he put together the pieces of your puzzle. 

“Oh my- Holy Fuck. Holy Fuck. Osita, baby, oh my god. You’re- Oh my god. Baby, are- are you serious?” Javi whispered, his voice trembling in disbelief, convinced that what he was seeing was too good to be true. 

“I took 3 different tests. They’re all positive. Javi… We’re gonna have a baby.” You smiled, wetness streaming down your cheeks as you beamed at your husband, watching the gears in his mind turn as he processed that what he had heard was real. 

“We’re gonna have a baby?” He repeated, whispering it like the world’s most precious secret, the look on his face shifting from disbelief to pure and utter joy with each word. 

“You’re gonna be a dad, Javi.” 

“I’m- I’m gonna be a dad? I’m gonna be a dad. We’re really gonna have a baby?” He choked out, his smile so wide you were convinced his face had to hurt with how hard it was scrunched. 

“We’re really gonna have a baby.” You confirmed, just as much as yourself as for him, reaching up to grab his face, making sure he watched your head nod in the happiest agreement you’d ever made to anyone. 

Scooping his arms under your thighs, he hoisted you up to let your legs lock around the small of his back, spinning you around the bathroom, the two of you exploding his blissful laughter, giggles and tears while he peppered kisses all over your face. 

“Oh, I love you so fucking much, Osita. I love both of you so fucking much. You're gonna be such a good mom.” Javi beamed, carefully setting you back down as he dropped to his knees in front of you, both hands splayed across your stomach while his peppering of kisses moved to your belly. “Oh my god. Holy fuck. You swear you’re being serious? You’re really pregnant?” 

“Yes, I’m being serious, Jav! That’s why I bought 3 different tests. I wouldn’t have believed it either.” You giggled, cheeks sore from your smile. 

“When did you- When did you find out?” Javi questioned, expression still plastered with the best bewildered astonishment you could imagine, hand still resting on your stomach as he stood up. 

“Literally, like, 10 minutes before you got home. Sorry, I didn’t have a better way to surprise you, I picked up the tests on the way home and I-” 

“Baby, why are you apologizing? You literally just gave me the best surprise I could have ever asked for. I’m so fucking happy. So, so, SO fucking happy.” Javi grinned, unable to keep from kissing you, barely letting you breathe with the way he was smothering you with excited pecks of his lips. “Holy shit. I can’t fucking believe it. We’re gonna have a baby.” 

You could feel your heart swell at the way Javi’s hand had become instantly glued to your stomach, thumb rubbing across the cotton of your shirt, over and over, already filled with so much love and adoration for the soon to be new addition to your family. 

“Makes a little more sense why I was such a jerk to you this morning when I was getting ready to leave.” You sighed, apologetically rolling your eyes at Javi for your snappy behavior before leaving for work. 

“Honey, first of all, you were not a jerk, second of all, you’re pregnant, and even if you weren’t, I felt bad and just wanted to help you feel better.” Javi smiled, boyish grin still stretching ear to ear as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Is that what made you take a pregnancy test when you got home?” 

“Oh you’ll get a kick outta this one.” You laughed, playfully raising an eyebrow at Javi, “Obviously I felt like shit at work today, which makes sense now, but the rest of my team came in during lunch time and were asking me how I could have gotten the stomach bug if no one else I knew had it, and you weren’t sick either, so it couldn’t have been food poisoning, either. Then of course, someone-” 

“Maria?” Javi scoffed, knowing exactly where your story was heading

“Are we shocked? Yes, of course it was Maria.” You shook your head, the both of you laughing, “Anyways, she asked if I felt anything other than just nauseous, and after thinking about it, I realized that I’ve been crying at everything, my boobs hurt like a bitch, and I was supposed to get my period 3 days ago. She may be crazy, but sometimes, she knows what she’s talking about.” 

“At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if she insisted that regardless of being a boy or girl, this baby needs to be named Maria.” The two of you chuckled, Javi’s hand never leaving your stomach, thumb gently stroking over your t-shirt, his goofy grin subtly shifting to a more serious scrunch. 

“You okay, Jav?” You asked, tilting your head at Javi’s new look. 

“We should call the doctor’s office, right? Do you think they’re still open? Do we have to schedule an ultrasound or do they do that? Do you want me to go get you vitamins or did you already start taking those? Should I-” 

“Easy, Papa Bear.” You snickered, somehow not surprised in the slightest that Javi had shifted into “Dad Mode” immediately, his mind automatically shifting to what would become the never ending worry of making sure that you and your baby got everything you’d ever need. “We can call tomorrow. We won’t even have an appointment for the next few weeks so it’ll be okay.” 

“Few weeks? What do you mean?” Javi replied, looking even more distressed. 

“Normally you don’t have an ultrasound done until like, 8 weeks along.” 

“That’s way too long. 8 weeks?! How are we supposed to know everything’s okay?!” 

You knew Javi’s panic was genuine, but you couldn’t help but giggle. You were well aware that Javi would make a great dad, but you had no idea that his protective dad instincts would set in only minutes after finding out the news that you were pregnant. 

Your laughter only lasted so long until the same, uncomfortable feeling began to build in your throat, reaching down for the trash can next to the sink, wrenching up the nibbles of your lunch you thought you’d managed to keep down. 

“Oh honey, shit- it’s okay, Osita.” Javi cooed, gently rubbing your back with your face still buried in the trash can.

“This is really adding to the magic of the moment, isn’t it? Oof, this baby is gonna give me a run for my money, huh?” You grimaced, pulling your head out of the waste basket, one of Javi’s hands on the small of your back, the other over your stomach. 

“Nah. I do think she’s gonna end up being strong willed like her mom, though.” Javi smirked, gently kissing your forehead. 

“Javi, I’ve been pregnant for all of 30 minutes, there’s no way you know if it’s a girl or not.” 

“She’s a girl. I have a feeling.” 

Month 2  

“Javi, baby, I love you, but if you keep holding my hand this tight, I think you’re gonna break it.” 

You were almost positive that Javi had been keeping a better track of the days counting down to your first ultrasound appointment than you had. He had even insisted on taking the entire day off work even though you weren’t leaving school until 12:00, and your appointment wasn’t until 2:00. Now that it was 2:15, sitting in your OBGYN’s office, waiting for your name to be called to see your doctor, it was clear that your husband was much more of a nervous wreck than you figured you needed to account for. 

“S-sorry. Sorry. I just really wanna see ‘em, ya know? Make sure everything’s okay.” Javi sighed, knowing he most definitely was more anxious than he needed to be, the hand not easing its grip on yours, gently rubbing your nearly invisible bump. 

“I know, me too.” You smiled, rubbing your thumb back and forth across his palm for a few moments before lifting it up to your mouth to kiss it. 

“Peña?” a voice called from the front of the waiting room, you and Javi perking up instantly at your last name. 

You couldn’t help but giggle at the fact you knew it was taking everything in Javi not to sprint to the door the nurse was holding open for you, so excited to see your baby for the first time, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he would have jumped up on the exam table himself once you got to your room. 

“How’s it going, Mom and Dad?” The nurse asked, smiling at you as you followed behind her down the hallway leading towards the exam rooms before stopping at a small cove at the front of the path. “We’re just gonna take some quick vitals and then we’ll get you all set up in the room okay?” 

“It’s been good! Well besides feeling super nauseous and exhausted all the time, but ya know.” You laughed, giving the nurse a little shrug as you sat down in the chair next to the blood pressure machine as she began to take your vitals. 

“But that’s normal though, right? Like, we shouldn’t be worried about that?” Javi asked, leg bouncing as he stood next to you, propped up against the wall. 

“Yes, it’s all perfectly normal. Unfortunately, growing a baby isn’t always the most pleasant experience, so it’s very common, especially in the first trimester, for Mom to feel pretty worn out.” The nurse nodded, writing down some information before gesturing for you to step on the scale, taking a few more notes. 

“Told you I’m okay.” You snickered, giving Javi a little nudge. 

“I know, I just feel awful that you feel so miserable, ya know?” Javi sighed, crossing his arms over his chest, feeling that this would be the first of many worried I told you so’s during this appointment. 

“Alright, well we’re just gonna draw some blood and take a urine sample, and then we will have you all ready to meet with Dr. Davis, okay?” The nurse grinned, helping you back over to the chair to have your blood drawn, cocking her head at the pained look on your face. 

“Is it um- can I do the urine test first? I need to pee so bad.” You grimaced, not wanting to throw off your nurse’s pattern of practice, but also worrying you were going to pee your pants if you didn’t go to the bathroom in the next thirty seconds. 

“Oh, of course, my bad, go right ahead. Down the hall and to the left.” She smiled, handing off the collection cup as you practically sprinted down the hallway, your nurse and Javi laughing at your need for speed. 

“First baby?” Your nurse asked, smirking at Javi, nervously gnawing on the inside of his cheeks. 

“Y-yeah. How’d you know?” He asked. 

“I’ve been doing this job for a long time, honey. Nine times out of ten, the dads are way more nervous than the moms are.” She grinned, tilting her head with a little shrug. 

“Yeah, I’d uh- I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared out of my mind, but I- um, God, I’m so excited. I can’t wait to be a dad.” It’s a good thing you were still in the bathroom, because seeing the way Javi was beaming from ear to ear at finally becoming a father probably would have sent you into a spell of hormonal sobs. In the past few weeks, his adamant enthusiasm about his journey into fatherhood had you on the brink of tears nearly every day from how thankful you were for your amazing husband. 

After your return with your very full cup of pee, and squeezing Javi’s hand extra tight through your blood draw, you were escorted down to your exam room, leaving you and Javi to patiently wait for your OBGYN’s arrival to let you get a first glimpse at your baby. 

“You look really hot in that paper skirt.” Javi teased, raising his eyebrows at you, gently tugging at the thin covering you’d been offered for your bottom half to give your doctor easy access for your exam. 

“You just like it because you can keep peeking underneath it and I don’t have anything on.” You sighed, playfully rolling your eyes back at him. You paused for a moment, taking a quiet deep breath as you stared down at your feet, Javi immediately picking up on your silent shift in tone. 

“You okay, Osita?” He asked, gently grabbing your hand and interlocking it with his while his free hand splayed across your stomach. 

“Yeah. I think all the nerves are actually starting to really kick in now, ya know? Like, we’re about to see our baby today for the first time.” 

It would have been easy to blame your pregnancy hormones for the emotional rollercoaster you were experiencing in the OB’s office, but with the way Javi’s eyes were welling with tears too, you felt a little less crazy for being so overwhelmed by the thought of getting to see the tiny human you were growing inside you. 

A quiet knock on the other side of the door was enough to startle you and Javi, turning your attention as a figure peeked through the small gap with a soft, and sweet voice.  

“Mr. and Mrs. Peña?” 

“H-hi, yeah, come in.” Javi stammered, eagerly inviting in your doctor, Dr. Davis. 

“Hello, it’s so nice to see you two! How exciting that we’re here for our first visit!” Dr. Davis grinned, giving you and Javi each a friendly nod before settling into her rolling chair next to her desk, “How’s everything been going so far?” 

The way Javi had begun to squeeze even tighter on your hand was making it nearly impossible not to giggle, giving him a little pinch of reassurance back before answering. 

“Good so far. I mean, tired and nauseous, but other than that, can’t complain. I mean, obviously nervous, but also just really excited too.” You beamed, Dr. Davis smiling at your response before looking over at Javi, anxiously drumming the fingers of his free hand against his leg. 

Well that’s good to hear. It most certainly is a very exciting and nervous time, especially with your first. How about you, Dad? How have you been doing?” 

“Oh- m-me?” Javi asked, pointing to himself, shocked that Dr. Davis would have any interest in asking how he’d been, “Oh good, yeah, I mean, nervous as hell, but like, the good kind of nervous. Just wanna make sure I’m doing whatever I can to help.” 

“Well Mr. Peña, it seems like you very clearly care about your wife and your baby, and if you keep that up, you’re doing everything you can.” Dr. Davis grinned, shooting you a little wink at the providing the reassurance your husband very clearly needed. “Alright, well I know one of our nurses already took some blood and urine samples, but we’re just gonna check a few things out and ask some questions, but after we finish with that, we’ll do our first ultrasound and get a chance to look at Baby, okay?” 

“Okay.” You and Javi answered in sync, smiling at each other from your timely response. 

It seemed that Javi’s nerves had at least eased a little bit, until you watched him fumble around in the back pocket of his jeans, face growing panicked at the lack of whatever he seemed to be looking for. 

“You okay, Jav?” 

“Yeah, I just, shit-” He paused, grimacing at his empty pocket, “I thought I bought a notepad and pen to write stuff down on, but I must have left it in the car…” 

Quietly chuckling to herself, Dr. Davis reached into a drawer in her desk, pulling out a sheet of blank paper, along with one of the pens from her coat pocket to pass over to Javi.

“T-thanks.” Javi sighed sheepishly, trying to hide his embarrassment as he took the pen and paper. 

“Mr. Peña, if there is one thing you most certainly do not need to worry about, it’s how loved this baby of yours is going to be.” 

While you had truly considered giving Javi shit about how hell bent he was on documenting every single word that came out of Dr. Davis’s mouth, 45 minutes into your appointment, you couldn’t have been more thankful you had someone there taking notes for you, all of the information, questions, and hypotheticals of bringing a new baby into the world making your head spin. 

All of the questions you had planned had seemed to have magically disappeared from your brain, overwhelming anxiety about trying to plan for the health and safety of your future child throwing everything else in your mind out the window. 

While it had taken a moment for you to even realize how stressed you were, Javi had picked up on it immediately, suddenly shifting to become the anchor in your storm that you had been for him. With one hand on your stomach, and the other furiously scratching down notes, Javi had managed to remember every question the two of you had talked about, making sure to have Dr. Davis elaborate on anything you even seemed slightly concerned about. 

Even though you had felt like a terrible mother for already being too overwhelmed to remember a few simple questions, the way Javi had switched into Dad Mode without a single thought or ask had filled you with such calm and relief, falling even more in love with him at how immediately protective he became without so much as a second thought. 

After an hour and two full pages, front and back, filled with Javi’s chicken scratch, Dr. Davis had finished with her part of the exam, and Javi had asked enough questions to fill a small book. You weren’t sure it was because you physically couldn’t fathom coming up with another question to ask, or if both of your brains were just too overwhelmed with information to come up with anything else, but after a confirmation you and Javi had nothing else to ask as of right now, she lit up as she asked the question the two of you had been dying to hear since you booked your appointment. 

“Would you like to see Baby Peña for the first time?” 

Despite how badly your hands were shaking, as Javi intertwined his fingers with yours, you were convinced his were trembling even worse, his eyes locked on on every move Dr. Davis had to make as she set up for your ultrasound. 

“Alright, this is going to be a little bit cold here, sorry.” Dr. Davis apologized, squirting a small glob of gel onto your lower stomach, trying your best not to squirm and giggle at the ticklish sensation. 

After a few more clicks on her keyboard, Dr. Davis had grabbed the ultrasound transducer, gently beginning to rub the tool back and forth across your belly as fuzzy, black and white images began to appear on her screen. 

“Now, with you almost being nine weeks, we’re most likely only going to see a blob of a head and a body, but I’m hoping that we may also get to hear Baby’s heartbeat for the first time as well.” Dr. Davis smiled, watching yours and Javi’s faces light up. 

“I’m sure whatever they look like, they’ll be the most perfect little blob I’ve ever seen.” Javi grinned, squeezing your hand even tighter, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. 

“I’ve never been more excited to see a black and white blob in my entire life.” You giggled softly, Javi and Dr. Davis snickering right along with you. 

“Oh, give me one second, I think we found ‘em.” Dr. Davis muttered to herself, clicking on a few more buttons on her keyboard and turning the screen back towards her to get a better view. 

In the few moments of silence, you looked up at Javi, trying your best to fight the tears you had welling in the corners of your eyes at the thought of finally being able to see your baby for the first time. As Javi looked back down at you, you couldn’t help but let out a little laugh at the way his eyes were already welling too, biting down on his bottom lip to keep from bursting into full blown tears. 

Although you had never known Javi before his newly settled life in Laredo, it was moments like these where you couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that a man who had once chased down the most hardened Cartel criminals in the entire world, who had written off any chance at a ‘normal’ life for himself, had turned out to be the biggest softie in the entire world, head over heels in love with you, trying to keep from sobbing as he prepared himself for seeing his baby for the first time. 

Watching you snicker to yourself, Javi rolled his eyes, shaking his head as you teased him, quietly mouthing a playful “Shut up”  to you, knowing damn well he was already a mess without even seeing your black and white blob for the first time. 

“Alright Mr. and Mrs. Peña, are you ready to see your baby?” 

The two of you quietly nodded, each taking a long, shaky deep breath as Dr. Davis slowly turned her screen back towards you, finger pointed at a small shape in the middle of her display. 

“There’s Baby Peña.” She smiled softly, gently circling around where her finger had been  pointing. 

As yours and Javi shifted your gazes from each others’ to the small screen beside you, a tiny, bean shaped form appeared, gently shifting with the black and white static of the machine. 

There, in front of you, was your baby. 

“T-that’s- that’s really them?” Javi stuttered, eyes excitedly darting back and forth between you, the screen and Dr. Davis, smile beaming so wide, you wouldn’t be surprised if his cheeks hurt for weeks after. 

“That’s really them.” Dr. Davis answered, smiling at the pure bliss radiating off of you and Javi. 

“That’s our baby, Jav.” You whispered, disregarding any attempts to keep from crying, too overwhelmed with the joy and excitement of seeing your child for the first time, “That’s really them.” 

You and Javi could have stared at the screen for hours, taking in every single detail your minds could commit to memory, streams of happy tears continuously flowing from the both of you, completely overjoyed to finally get the first glimpse at the life you had created together. 

“Would you two like to hear the heartbeat? I think I’ll be able to pick it up!” Dr. Davis asked, clacking on a few more keys. 

“Only if you wanna make me cry more.” You sniffled, “God, sorry I’m such a mess.” 

“Honey, after 20 years at this practice, I’ve seen just about every reaction under the sun. Do not worry. I was the same way when I had my first, too.” She paused, typing on a few more buttons and focusing on her screen, giving Javi a few seconds to help console you with sweet kisses across your temple, “alrighty, baby seems to be cooperating, so here is the heartbeat!” 

You and Javi held your breath, time standing still, until a light, rhythmic thump began to echo throughout the room, eyes going wide hearing your baby’s heartbeat. 

“Holy shit…” Javi whispered in disbelief, looking down at you with an ear to ear grin and watering eyes. “Baby, holy shit, that’s- that’s ours. That’s our baby.” 

You and Javi sat still, time seeming to freeze around you as the soft thump of your baby’s heartbeat flooding you with a wave of love and excitement you had never felt before, so overwhelmed with euphoria, you could have sat and listened to the sound for hours. 

“Everything about the baby looks absolutely great so far. Glad we were able to catch the heartbeat as well. I’m guessing you’d probably like some ultrasound pictures to take home with you?” Dr. Davis asked, smiling with a grin that very clearly told you she already knew the answer. 

“Yes.” You and Javi agreed in unison, barely letting Dr. Davis finish her sentence before you answered. 

“Alright. Let me capture a few images here,” Dr. Davis paused, focusing in on the screen while moving the ultrasound around on your lower stomach before saving the image displayed next to you, “and we should be good! We’ll have these ready for you when you go to check out. Any other questions before I send you two, or should I say, three, off today?” 

“N-no, I think I’m good. You have any other questions, honey?” Javi asked, interlacing his fingers with yours before gently kissing your forehead. 

“Well, um- actually- I uh, I guess I do have one more.” You stammered, quietly laughing to yourself, catching Javi’s attention, “Is it um- It’s okay for us to have sex still, right?” 

You looked over at Javi with a sheepish grin, snickering at the way his eyes had gone wide in pleasant surprise at your question. With how nauseous and tired you had been feeling, combined with Javi’s rampant nerves that even if you were up to it, he was going to hurt the baby, it had been over a month since the two of you had last gone at it. Sweet Javi had never brought it up once, so concerned with your well being that you knew he’d stick to taking care of himself by himself as long as he needed to- a small price to pay for  you literally growing his child inside you. But now that you were finally starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel for feeling like you had been hit by a bus every day, you knew it wouldn’t be much longer until you were going to need to break your self-induced run of pregnant celibacy. And when that time came, you knew even then, Javi wasn’t doing anything unless it had a doctor’s seal of approval. 

“Perfectly normal question. Yes, as long as you feel up to it, it’s absolutely safe. If you feel any discomfort or pain during intercourse, just give us a call and let us know and we can schedule an appointment, but other than that, yes, it’s perfectly okay.” Dr. Davis smiled, laughing at the way Javi was trying his best to keep from smirking. 

“Y-you’re sure it’s okay to-”

“Yes, I’m sure, Mr. Peña.” Dr. Davis chuckled, cutting off Javi’s sentence before he could finish asking his question. “Alright, why don’t we get you two checked out, and Laura at the front desk can get your next appointment scheduled for you. Have a wonderful rest of your day, and I’ll see you soon. Feel free to call if you have any questions.” 

“Thank you.” You smiled, you and Javi both giving Dr. Davis a wave as she exited the room, letting the door quietly close behind her. 

“I hope you know I would fuck you right here, right now in this doctor’s office, paper skirt and all.” Javi smirked, eyeing you up and down as you slid off the edge of the table, bunching up your thin, crinkly covering to throw into the trash before reaching for your pants folded up on the chair next to you. 

“I knew the doctor’s office paper skirt would really do it for you.” You giggled, shimmying up your underwear and pants as you playfully rolled your eyes at Javi. 

“I hope you didn’t ask because of me. You know I’ll do whatever you need me to. If you don’t want me to touch you for the next 7 months, I truly am okay. I just want you to feel comfortable, baby.” Javi sighed, his tone shifting to genuine and sincere, hitting you with his big, brown puppy dog eyes as he wrapped his arm around your waist, thumb softly stroking your stomach. 

“I know, Jav. Now that I’ve actually been starting to not feel completely awful and can focus on something other than not needing to throw up every 5 minutes, I wanted to make sure that I had the okay, so, ya know.” You grinned, raising your eyebrows at Javi, biting down on your bottom lip. 

“Let’s go get this paperwork.” Javi smirked back, giving you a quick peck on your lips and a playful wink, collecting all of his notes as he opened the door for you, making it incredibly obvious that he was checking you out as you passed by him. 

“Horndog.” You giggled, pretending to scold him. 

“I’m not the one who asked, Osita.” 

You were positive that Javi’s hand hadn’t left your hip, hand, stomach or thigh from the moment you had left the doctor’s office, his thumb gently rubbing in soft circles against you, accompanied the dimple creasing in the corner of his cheek from the way his boyish smirk was plastered across his face the entire drive home. 

It was almost comical at the way Javi was so eager to help you out of the car and into the house, carefully helping you to put away everything from the appointment, asking you if there was anything that you needed, following you around the kitchen like a wide eyed puppy. 

You felt butterflies swirl in your stomach in a way that wasn’t about to make you vomit for the first time in weeks, heart swelling at the way you could tell Javi was patiently and nervously waiting for you to make a move before he dared to do anything, knowing he would keep good on his promise to let you take the lead.  

“Y-you sure you don’t need anything else? Lunch? More water? A nap?” Javi asked, resting his hip against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest, trying his best to act nonchalant as you approached after noting down your next appointment date on your calendar. 

“Nope.” You grinned, popping the “P” at the end of the word, reaching out to grab at his waist, toying with the belt loops of his jeans, watching the denim of his pants begin to tent. 

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. Just because the doctor gave you the okay, if you’re not comfortable, I-” 

Before he could finish, you cut him off with a kiss, pressing up on your tiptoes to let your lips lock with his, practically feeling him melt under your touch as his bulge poked at your thigh, continuing to grow as you rubbed against it. 

“Javier Peña, if you don’t take me upstairs and put your dick inside me right now, I swear.” You giggled in between kisses before you let out a gasp, Javi scooping his arms under your thighs to wrap your legs around his waist, frantically but carefully carrying you across the living room and up the stairs, letting his back push open the bedroom door. 

Carefully, he laid you down on the bed, caging his body over yours while he planted soft kisses down your neck and chest, feeling his lips smirk as they gently pressed against the barely there swell of your stomach. 

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.” Javi murmured under his breath, fingers toying with your waistband to tug your pants and underwear down your legs, letting them fall into a crumpled pile on the floor below you. “So fucking beautiful growing our baby.” 

Javi settled himself between your thighs, gently parting them to reveal the mess of slick and arousal coating the inside of them. You propped yourself up on your elbows, breath already heavy as you watched Javi run his fingers through your soaked folds, throwing your head back in delight while he slowly began to rub at your throbbing clit. 

Because you had been so preoccupied with the constant nausea and fatigue from the first few weeks of creating another living human being inside of you, it wasn’t until now you were becoming blatantly aware of how much more sensitive you were down there, your stomach already swirling with heightened sensation after a few seconds of Javi touching you. 

“Holy fuck-” You stammered, jaw going slack in pleasure, immediately catching Javi’s attention. 

“Good holy fuck or bad holy fuck?” He asked, concern flooding the sweet chocolate brown of his eyes. 

“Good holy fuck, oh my god. I feel like I’m about to cum already.” You whimpered, the worry washing from Javi’s face at your response, his once furrowed brow quickly replaced with a delighted smirk you could practically feel as buried his head between your legs, placing a soft kiss on your clit. 

If his fingers weren’t enough to make you feel like you were already on the edge of collapse, the slow and calculated drags of his tongue up and down your cunt most definitely were. One of your hands was instantly shooting down to brace yourself in the thick curls of Javi’s hair while the other one fisted at your bedsheets for dear life, readying yourself to face the rapid tingle growing at the base of your spine. 

The response to warmth and wet of his tongue swirling against your sensitive bundle of nerves was enough to make you whimper like he had been fucking you with his mouth for hours, not mere minutes, coil tightening in your stomach with every lick. 

“Fuck, Javi. Oh fuck, baby.” You moaned, grip tightening around your bedsheets, soft fabric curling between your fingers. 

All it took was a little more pressure from the flat of his tongue before you could feel yourself on the brink of collapse, pleasure starting to creep up your legs and through your core. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck- fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-ahhhh!” You sobbed, throwing your head back in bliss as your orgasm crashed through you, every inch of your body lighting up as you came. You could have sworn you were seeing stars, cutting some slack to your pregnancy hormones after weeks of being keeled over in exchange for one of the most intense orgasms you’d had in a while. 

Javi pulled his head out from in between your legs, smirking in awe of the way your moans fell from your slack jaw as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, mustache soaked with your slick. 

“You okay, baby girl?” He asked, peppering soft kisses to the insides of your thighs as you came back too, emerging from your post orgasmic fog. 

“Javi, holy fuck.” You gasped, still panting, “Oh my god, that felt so good.” 

“Yeah? Came so well for me, Momma.” Javi cooed, letting his lips trail up your hips and stomach, taking extra time to let his lips linger on the barely there swell of your belly before shedding your top and bra, dropping them next to your crumpled up bottoms. 

“Fuck- Need you to fuck me, Javi. Please, baby.” You moaned, reaching out to unbutton Javi’s jeans, erection already straining at the denim and zipper of his pants. Javi grinned, happily helping you tug his pants and underwear from his hips, quickly followed by his shirt, giving you a chance to gawk at his handsome, naked figure. 

You reached out, wrapping your fingers around his already hard length, pumping him a few times with your hand before gently guiding him towards your entrance while both your bodies fell towards the mattress, Javi hovering over you. 

“You sure you wanna do this?” Javi whispered against your skin between gentle presses of his lips against your neck, “If you’re uncomfortable or anything, just let me-” 

“Javier Peña, if you do not put your dick inside me right now, I might cry.” You giggled softly, giddy smiles growing across both your faces as Javi ran his tip between your folds, collecting the slick pooling between them. 

Gently, Javi pushed himself inside your heat, letting him slowly pump in and out of you a few times before you propped yourself up on your elbows, looking at him with a confused stare, feeling that something was off.  

“You can put it all the way in Jav.” You laughed, realizing Javi was barely pushing himself inside of you with each movement of his hips. 

“I don’t- I don’t wanna hurt the baby.” Javi grimaced sheepishly. 

“Javi…” You giggled, titling your head at him, “Baby, you’re big, but you’re not that big.” 

Javi sighed, quietly laughing to himself at your playful scolding before leaning down to softly press his lips to yours. 

“Just trying to be gentle, Osita.” 

“I’m pregnant, not made of glass.” You teased, biting down on your lip as you laughed, only for your jaw to drop as Javi slid deeper into your cunt, pressing his entire length in you. 

“Fuck, Javi…” You whimpered, head hitting the back of the mattress, trying to compose yourself from falling apart right then and there.

“Fuck, I missed this.” Javi whispered, nibbling at your ear as he slowly began to thrust his hips, taking his time with each stroke. “Driving me crazy every fuckin’ day with how beautiful you look carrying our baby.” 

Javi’s hand trailed down your front, softly splaying across your stomach while his thumb circled your skin, the familiar movement catching your attention enough to peak your head up at your husband, looking almost as disheveled as you in terms of self-preservation.

Javi took a long, deep breath, furrowing his brows in concentration as he stared at the ceiling, the rhythm of his hips coming to a standstill. 

“You alright there, big guy?” You giggled, knowing damn well the cause for the holdup. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I feel like a fucking teenager. First time we’ve fucked since we found out you were pregnant and I’m about to show up like some sort of fucking two pump chump ‘cause I can’t keep it together.” Javi groaned, eyes still glued to the drywall above him in embarrassment. 

 “Javi, baby, look at me.” You smiled, smirking at him. 

“I can’t, unless you want this to be over right now.” 

“While that’s very flattering, I find that very hard to believe, considering I threw up twice before we left for this doctor’s appointment and ate half a jar of pickles on the drive home and smell like I’ve been living inside a pickle factory for the better part of the past year.” 

“Jesus Christ.” He laughed, your joke enough to make him break, shifting his gaze down back at you. 

“Baby, you’re fine. Considering you deliver 99.9% of the time, and this is the first we’re having sex in a month and a half, I was planning on cutting you some slack.” You teased, giving him a little nudge, “Also, did you forget how you made me cum like, crazy hard 5 minutes ago? I didn’t realize how sensitive I was gonna be, and not to boost your ego any more than I have, but it’s not gonna take much for you to get me there.” 

Javi smiled, pecking kisses along your neck and collarbone as he brought the pads of his fingers to your clit, circling with just enough pressure to already send you reeling, beginning to pick back up the pace he had forgone. 

Your breath instantly hitched in the back of your throat, sucking the air out of your lungs as the head of Javi’s cock rammed perfectly into your g-spot. That, accompanied by the pads of his fingers swirling against your clit, had you absolutely reeling, whimpering and moaning with each snap of his hips. 

“Fuck me. Feel so fucking good, Osita.” Javi grunted through gritted teeth, his free hand running up the back of your leg, gently pressing your thigh closer to your stomach, stretching you out in the way he knew drove you absolutely crazy. 

“Oh Javi, fuck, baby, holy fuck-” You whined, pleasure already swirling in your stomach. 

“That's my girl. Fuck, I can't wait to get you pregnant again, let everyone see how you're all mine carrying our baby. Gonna be such a good Mom, giving us a family, making me a dad. Oh fuck-” Javi groaned, his words hot against your skin between kisses along your neck and shoulder blade, shifting his grasp to cup one of your swollen breasts in his palm, fingers gently toying with the hardened buds of your nipples.

The added sensation was all it took to send you over the edge, orgasm crashing through your body with an unforgiving wave of intensity, pleasure radiating through every inch of you as your cunt clamped down around Javi's cock, gushing with your arousal as you came.

Knowing you had reached your end, Javi began to chase his own high, his thrusts becoming sloppier and more erratic as your body melded with his, nearly going limp in his grasp from how good he had made you feel. 

“Mierda- fuck, baby. Gonna fill you up, I have- fuck- so much cum for you, and I- oh fuck!” 

Before he could ramble on any further, it only took a few more thrusts of Javi’s hips before he was spilling inside you, warm ropes of his spend coating your walls as he came, palm splayed across the barely there swell of your stomach, holding you in place against the mattress. 

Your chests heaved in sync, breathless from a fast and furious performance after weeks of no sex, the both of you laughing at yourselves for your record breaking timing of the events that had just occurred. 

“That may be the fastest that either of us have came.” You giggled, giving Javi a playful nudge before your face fell from a happy grin to sheepish frown, “Sorry that it’s been so long. You’ve been so patient, and with how nauseous I’ve been and-” 

“Nuh uh,” Javi shook his head, the plush of his bottom lip in a serious pout, “None of that. You do not need to apologize for anything. Honey, you’re growing a whole person inside of you. Our kid. All I wanna do is be there for whatever you need. Regardless of if that means this or not.”  

It should have been no surprise to you that tears were already beginning to well in your eyes, Javi’s consistently gentle and caring demeanor towards you with anything you’ve needed these past 8 weeks bringing you to the verge of tears from his sweetness practically on demand. 

“Sorry, sorry, it’s good tears,” You sniffled, sighing at your own dramatics from your hormones as Javi wiped the tears streaming down your cheeks with his thumb, “You’re just always so good to me, and I love you so much, and you’re gonna be such a good dad.” 

“I love you too, Osita.” Javi smiled, softly cupping your belly in his grasp, “Whatever you need, you know I’ll always be there, okay?” 

“Okay.” You smiled back, rolling over to press your head against his chest, laying for a moment in serene silence until a low and long grumble sung from your stomach. “Does that include bringing me up the bag of sour gummy worms so I can eat them in bed and then take a nap?” 

“Of course it does.” Javi chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before pressing himself up off of the bed with a grunt and slipping his boxers back on, “Anything else Baby wants?” 

“Whatever’s left of that chicken sandwich I had yesterday. And a glass of water. Please.” You grimaced sheepishly, shrugging at Javi as you tacked on to your list of requests. “And can you make sure the water is, like-” 

“90% ice cubes and 10% water?” Javi smirked, finishing the rest of your sentence and laughing to himself as you nodded your head. “Be right back.” 

Hey, Jav?” 

“Yeah, baby?” Javi answered, peeking his head back in the door he had just exited from. 

“We love you.” 

“I love you both of you too, Osita. More than you fucking know.”

3 Months 

“I swear I think they already know.” 

“Honey, how could they know?” 

“I don’t know, Connie just keeps giving me this look like she knows something.” 

After last year’s Thanksgiving extravaganza at Chucho’s ranch, where your family and the Murphy’s had joined together to celebrate your engagement, it seemed like an easy choice on everyone’s part to rinse and repeat for this year. 

It had been killing you and Javi to keep Baby Peña a secret for this long, but now that you had finally broken free of the first trimester and everyone you wanted to be the first to hear the news gathered together, Thanksgiving had seemed like the perfect day to announce that in a few months, a third member of the Peña family would be arriving. 

That is, if someone didn’t spill the beans on your surprise based on their intuition. 

With you and Javi alone in the kitchen finishing up the rest of the mashed potatoes before dinner, he discreetly ran his hand across your stomach, smiling at the barely there bump hidden under your sweater. 

“It’s just Connie being Connie.” Javi smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “Besides, won’t be a surprise for that much longer.” 

“There’s a surprise?!” Your niece Olivia exclaimed, her sister and the Murphy girls barging into the kitchen behind her, scaring the daylights out of you and Javi. 

“Holy sh- cow, Liv, I didn’t see you there, sweetie!” You gasped, clutching your chest in shock, Javi’s hand immediately dropping from your stomach and diving into the pocket of his jeans. 

“Surprise?” Steve asked, following behind the girls, arms crossed over his chest, “is the surprise that your aunt and uncle are actually cookin’ instead of smoochin’ back here?”

“Ewwwwwwww!” The girls exclaimed, giggling as they stuck out their tongues before scampering away back to the living room. 

“Ha ha, very funny.” Javi replied dryly, rolling his eyes at his friend. 

“Glad to see we’re keepin’ it PG in here.” Steve chuckled, giving Javi a little nudge of his elbow, “Seriously though, is there a surprise I should be knowin’ about?” 

“The surprise,” you grunted, lifting up the giant pot of potatoes you had just finished mashing and passing them off to Steve, trying to catch his balance with the newfound weight in his hands, “is that you get to carry these potatoes out to the table! Thank you so much!” 

“Pretty shitty fuckin’ surprise, if you ask me.” Steve groaned, scoffing at his newly appointed task while you and Javi laughed. 

“Tell everyone it’s time to eat, too. We just have a few more dishes to clean up!” You added, smirking at Steve’s annoyance. 

“Now I’m on wranglin’ duty, too? Damn, I regret ever comin’ in here.” 

With Steve mumbling to himself as he wandered out of the kitchen, potatoes in hand, you and Javi found yourselves alone again, smiling at each other and shaking your heads at your close call encounter. 

“If it makes you feel better, I’m sure Steve has no fucking clue, and it’ll be a complete surprise to him.” Javi chuckled, grabbing a few dishes off the counter and throwing them into the sink. 

“Now that, I’ll believe.” You giggled, nodding in agreement as you brought the last of the pots and pans over to be washed. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous to tell everyone, I should feel relieved that we don’t have to keep this a secret anymore.” 

“Because it’s kind of a big deal, mi amor.” Javi laughed, giving you a little nudge, “I’m nervous too, but excited nervous, ya know? Can’t wait to tell everyone about ‘em.” 

“Stop it, or you’re gonna make me cry!” You sighed, trying to hold back your tears and Javi’s sweet smile. “Okay, everything’s good to go right? We should probably get out there before Steve comes barging in again.” 

“Good to go, Osita. Let’s get Baby some mashed potatoes.” 

Thanksgiving at Chucho’s was quickly becoming your favorite new tradition, your heart overflowing with so much love and joy to have everyone you cared about together in one place, the best parts of your life overlapping so perfectly. 

On top of your meal being absolutely delicious, your family, the Murphy’s and Chucho nearly had you shooting the better part of your spoonful of mashed potatoes out of your nose, hearing the story of the time a toddler Javi nearly got his head stuck in a Thanksgiving turkey. 

If you weren’t already pregnant, you had most certainly eaten enough food for several people, thankful you had chosen a dress instead of any sort of pants where you’d have to wrestle with the better part of a waistband for the rest of the night. 

Despite their hungry appetites, all of the kids at the table had disappeared post-dinner time, running off the rest of their energy before dessert, leaving the rest of the adults at their seats, still weighed down by their digesting dinner. 

“Damn, that was so good. Props to you on the turkey, Chucho, that bird’s about to put me in a coma.” Your brother David sighed, leaning back in his chair to unbutton his pants. 

“Jesus Christ, you animal, we are in someone else’s home! Button up your goddamn pants!” Your dad groaned, slapping David in the chest and nearly knocking him out of his seat. 

“No, he’s onto somethin’. I’m ‘bout to do the same. Shit, I’m stuffed.” Steve agreed, trying to reach down to unbutton his own pants, quickly stopped by Connie with her own slap to the chest for her husband. 

“Don’t encourage him, Steve. He’ll be pantless before you know it, and when he is, that’ll be your problem.” Your other brother, Charlie laughed, making David roll his eyes to the back of his head. 

“Not my fault! I feel 9 months pregnant after eating all this, and after dessert, you can all meet my adorable food baby I’m about to give birth to.” 

David’s comment had you and Javi nearly choking on your food, trying your best to conceal your coughs of shock and surprise at his comparison. It didn’t take much for the entire table to swing their heads towards the both of you, concerned by how you’d suddenly been so off-put, your food had become indigestible. 

“Oh my gosh, are you two okay?” Connie asked, her nurse instincts kicking into high gear at the way you were trying to dislodge the chunk of mashed potatoes from the back of your throat. 

“Yup- uh- yup, yeah, all um, all good.” Javi coughed, letting out one last hack, trying to make as little eye contact as possible, hoping they would assume the redness in his cheeks was from his poorly swallowed food. 

“Yup, we’re uh- all good. Totally fine.” You chimed in, sneaking a desperate look at Javi as if to say “I swear they know and they’re just not telling us”. 

“Jesus, don’t die on us. Didn’t know the birth of my Thanksgiving food baby would be so upsetting to you. Rude.” David teased, giving Charlie a little nudge as the two chuckled to themselves. 

Despite the fact that you and Javi were planning on telling everyone about the addition to your family any minute, the shock and timing of it all seemed to have both of you frozen, eyes peeled to the ground and faces flushed, unsure of what to do. 

The seconds of your silence seemed to drag on like hours, the both of you panicked as your eyes darted back and forth between each other’s, unable to do anything but shrug and let out a half laugh as your bodies grew hotter and hotter. 

“Wait…” Connie hummed, her breaking of the awkward silence filing the room gathering everyone’s attention, watching her silently piece together everything that had just happened in her head. You knew it didn’t take long for her to solve the puzzle, her once confused demeanor now shifting as an ear to ear grin spread between her cheeks in delight, “Are you?” 

“Is she what?” Steve asked, still completely oblivious to the clues Connie had been unraveling. 

After a few more moments of staring at the two of you, one by one, you could see the subtle changes in everyone’s expression, now all looking at you with intense interest, ready to hang on your every word. 

Well, everyone besides your brothers, dad, and Steve. 

“What the hell do all of you know that we’re not getting?” Your dad asked, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Javi, you in on this, bud?” Steve questioned, observant enough to at least recognize the smirk Javi was trying his very best to hide. 

“Steve, seriously?!” Connie sighed, rolling her eyes at Steve’s utter lack of ability to read the room, “David just made a comment about being so full he felt pregnant, and the two of them just about choked on their food.” 

“I dunno?! I mean, they ate a lotta food, too? Why are y’all actin’ like I’m supposed to be a fuckin’ mind reader?” Steve protested, trying to save his own ass from looking like a complete idiot. 

After a few more seconds of more intense thinking than should have been necessary, you watched your brothers start to comprehend enough that they had begun smiling and nodding along with everyone else. 

“No wait, I get it, ‘cause like, if she was pregnant, that like, she’d probably be all thrown off that I said something, right? So I mean-” David paused, a lightbulb finally going off in his brain, sending him into a wildly frazzled state, “Wait. Wait. OH MY GOD!” 

At this point, your shock had disappeared, giggling and grinning at everyone’s realizations, looking over at Javi with the happiest of smiles as he splayed his hand across your stomach. 

“What in the actual fuck am I missin’ out on?!” Steve groaned, still bewildered how everyone else at the table had seemed to figure out whatever mystery was unfolding before him. 

“Jesus Christ Steve, I love ya, man, but this is almost getting physically painful.” Charlie laughed, giving Steve a little nudge. 

“Lord help me.” Connie sighed, shaking her head as she grabbed her husband by the shoulders, “Steven Murphy. If they were shocked about David’s joke about being pregnant, that could probably mean that the two of them are…” 

“WAIT, HOLY FUCKIN’ SHIT, ARE YOU TWO HAVIN’ A BABY?” Steve exclaimed, shooting up out of his seat, at long last putting together everyone’s hints after everyone at dinner needed to all but spell it out for him. 

“Took you long enough.” Javi smirked, laughing at his friend as his thumb rubbed gently over the swell of your stomach. 

“We’re having a baby.” You grinned, everyone standing up and cheering in excitement for the both of you, rushing to where you and Javi were sitting to wrap you and Javi up in a smushed blob of a group hug, gently shaking you in their grasp. 

You could feel your heart swell at the overwhelming love and joy that filled the room, tears pooling in your eyes at how much your future baby was already so loved by so many people. 

“Oh honey, we’re so excited!” Your mom squealed, kissing both you and Javi on the cheeks as she wrapped the two of you in a bear hug. 

“Does that mean we’re the aunts now?!” Olivia screeched, pointing at herself, her sisters and the Murphy girls with a giddy grin spread across her cheeks. 

“Guess so, Kiddo.” You beamed, rustling her hair with one hand as the other wrapped around her to squeeze her in your grasp. 

Despite the overwhelming chatter and excitement buzzing around the room, you couldn’t help but notice a soft sniffle of tears somewhere behind you, turning around to see Chucho, eyes watering and a smile beaming from ear to ear. 

“Oh mis hijos (my children). I am so happy for you both. So happy.” Chucho hummed, gently wiping the tears streaming down his cheeks. You and Javi both stood up from your seats, letting Chucho’s arms wrap around you, pulling you in tight, “I never thought I would live to see the day I would be an abuelo (grandpa). Lucia would- dios mío (oh my god), she would be so thrilled. I know you two will be the best parents. I already love my nieto (grandchild) more than words can say.” 

“Thanks, Pops.” Javi nodded, trying his best to fight back his own tears, looking back and forth between you and Chucho, overwhelmed with the love and joy of a life he’d never thought he’d live 10, 5, hell, even a year ago. There was never a world in which he thought he’d be happy, let alone in love, married and a father. 

“She would be so proud of you, Javier. Your mamá would be so proud of you. And mija, I know she must be up there with your brother, the both of them smiling down on you with the biggest grins. Perhaps they didn’t have a chance to meet in this life, but I know without a doubt they are together, celebrating, and they will be every step of the way. ” 

Chucho’s sweet sentiment had nearly everyone in tears, well, everyone but you, your tears shifting to full blown sobs from the overwhelming emotion and pregnancy hormones of knowing that even though two of the most important people in yours and Javi’s lives were no longer here, that there were still so many who loved your growing family with all of their hearts. 

“Damn, who’s cuttin’ all the onions in here?” Your brother, David, asked, trying to laugh off the obvious tear lines streaming down his face, his joke enough to lighten the spirits of the rest of your friends and family, now all following suit with their soft chuckles and face wiping. 

“Y’all gonna let us have a Thanksgiving where we don’t cry about how happy y’all are?” Steve joked, stepping over to give Javi a little nudge. 

“Well, maybe next year. At least we can promise you the baby won’t steal the show and be born on Thanksgiving.” You chuckled, shaking your head at Steve’s ask, not realizing that everyone had gone back to a suspicious silence, looking around at each other, like they were all in on some secret you weren’t supposed to know about. 

“So…. When’s uh, when’s the baby supposed to be born?” Your dad asked, raising an eyebrow at you and Javi. 

“Oh Greg, seriously?” Your mom asked, slapping your dad across the chest. 

“What?! Like you weren’t thinking about it, too!” 

You looked over at Javi, the both of you confused why everyone suddenly now seemed to be doing silent calculations in their head, counting across their fingers until their conclusion either lead to hope, or disappointment. 

“I’m already out, I know it.” Your brother grumbled in disappointment, consoling with your nieces, also shaking their heads. 

“I gotta good feelin’ about this one.” Steve chuckled, rubbing his palms together in excitement, nudging a very clearly embarrassed Connie. 

“What the hell are you guys talking about?” Javi asked, scrunching his brow in confusion at everyone in the room. 

“Oh my god….” You sighed, finally putting all of the pieces of the puzzle together, “Is this about your stupid bet that you made about how quickly we were gonna have a baby?!” 

“Well, I wouldn’t say that it’s stupid if I win my two hundred dollars…” Chucho admitted sheepishly, almost giggling at the way you and Javi rolled your eyes to the backs of your skulls that every one of your friends and family knew the two of you had about as much self control as two pent up, horny teenagers. 

Next to you, Javi’s head was buried in his hands, cheeks bright pink with embarrassment, glancing over at you with a sincerely apologetic grimace that couldn’t help but make you laugh. 

“Okay fine,” You sighed, everyone’s eyes lighting up as they waited on your every word, “we’ll tell you, but whoever wins this stupid bet better be buying us something incredibly nice for our baby shower. Okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever, tell us so can profit off you two goin’ at it like rabbits.” 

“Steven Murphy!” Connie scolded, stiff arming her husband, almost as embarrassed by his comment as you and Javi were by this whole ordeal. 

“Sorry, sorry! Yeesh, god forbid a man give his buddy some shit! C’mon! Spill the beans! As long as the due date is the closest one to May 15th.” 

“July 4th! July 4th! July 4th!” Your nieces and the Murphy girls began to chant, unsure if they really understood the concept of the bet at hand, or if they really just wanted to pick the Fourth of July because they liked it. 

“Unless you’re growing the world's tiniest baby, I’m guessing it’s not April 22nd.” David sighed. 

“Exactly nine months from our wedding? Really David?” You groaned, unamused by your brother’s prediction. 

“What?! Miracles do happen! And it’s best that they happen when I’ve got money on the line!” 

“Jesus Christ…” Javi muttered under his breath, the two of you having no choice to laugh about your current predicament. “Fine. You wanna tell them, honey?” 

“Okay. Baby Peña’s due date is….” You paused, playing into the anticipatory silence, “June 7th.” 

“YES! I KNEW IT! PAY UP SUCKERS!” 

With everyone’s teasing and taunting about the state of this bet, Connie Murphy’s voice would have been the last either of you would have guessed to be so excited about having the most educated guess about the day your baby was conceived. 

“What?” Connie asked, giggling at your shock and surprise, “Can’t blame a girl for making an educated guess! And yes, I will buy whatever you want off your baby registry, fair?” 

“Fair.” You and Javi agreed in unison, glad to at least be the bearer of some benefit from your embarrassment. 

What you hadn’t noticed was the pack your brothers, Steve, Chucho and your dad had formed, quietly whispering to one another, nodding their heads in agreement as their eyes darted back between the group and you. 

“What are all of you up to back there? Because if I know anything about the 5 of you, it’s probably nothing good.” You sassed, arms crossed over your chest, tilting your head in disapproval at the sheepish crew. 

“Well… Do y’all know if it’s a boy or a girl?” 

“We lost all of our bettings on the due date, we need to make it back up somehow!” 

“Plus, 50/50 is pretty damn good odds, if you ask me.” 

“You all need help.” Connie sighed, pointing to the boys with a disgusted look on her face, making everyone else laugh. 

“Says the lady who just won a bet we all were in on!” Steve retorted, throwing his hands up in defense. 

“Well at least I wasn’t harassing them about it!” Connie protested, scolding the five with a stern look before turning back to you and Javi, “I mean… they do have a point though, 50/50 is good odds and I’ve already got a winning record.” 

“You all are the worst, I hope you know that.” You sighed, shaking your head at everyone, unaware of the goofy grin spread across Javi’s face as he stood behind you. 

“Oh! Oh! He knows somethin’!” Steve stammered, happily pointing at his friend and his ear to ear smile. 

You couldn’t help but smile too, heat creeping through your cheeks at Javi’s adamant prediction and how happy it made him. 

“I swear he doesn’t,” You promised, despite Javi’s glee, “Javi’s just absolutely convinced it’s a girl.” 

You swore Javi’s smile grew even wider as his hand slid across your stomach, gently cradling it in his grasp as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. 

“I’d bet all my money it’s a girl.” Javi grinned, sweet brown eyes locking with yours, twinkling with enthusiasm at the thought of having a daughter. 

“Better save that money then, Peña.” Steve huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, “I hate to admit it, but you’re sure as shit never wrong. And lord knows if you’re endin’ up a girl dad like the rest of us, you’re gonna need to save all the money you can get.” 

Giving your belly the softest squeeze, Javi looked you up and down, in complete adoration and shock that somehow, regardless of money, he had ended up the richest man alive with you by his side, and a baby on the way. 

“It’ll be worth every fuckin’ penny.”

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