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nxuvillette · 2 days

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TO FEEL WHOLE AGAIN — BOOTHILL

synopsis: getting pregnant and left by yourself wasn’t in your plans in life at all, but you end up meeting a man who becomes more than just a friend who’s willing to help.

❥- pairings : boothill x fem!reader

❥- note : so sorry for any inactivity !! life has just been a wreck, but i’m here with a little idea I came up with the other night. i hope you all enjoy <3 reblogs are appreciated !!

content warnings : sfw, fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, pregnancy, abandonment, heavy angst, breakups, mentions of abortion (reader does not have one), mentions of alcohol, human!boothill, angst with happy ending, use of pet names (darling + lovely), fluff, very fluffy things.

You can recall the day you met Boothill like it was the back of your hand.

It was the day your life had begun a completely new journey, but also, the same day that your life had completely fallen apart within just twenty four hours. Every memory was ingrained in your brain like it was never meant to go away. How could things end up going right, but so wrong at the same time?

About seven months prior, you found yourself sitting inside of a bar with tears still staining your cheeks from the incident that had occurred just hours beforehand. Your heart had gleamed, but shattered just minutes after. You questioned why something like this had happened to you. You never wronged anybody. Sure, you weren’t the most perfect person to exist, but as humans, it’s in their nature to make mistakes. Yet, god had different plans for you and they weren’t exactly the most pleasing ones.

Just two days before that day, you had found out you were pregnant.

It came by total surprise. You and your boyfriend weren’t exactly trying for kids, but you both had been together for four years at that point. You noticed something was off about you when your period suddenly missed its usual day, and you were experiencing some very odd symptoms that were unusual. After some convincing from your friends, you decided to go out and purchase a pregnancy test which came back positive. You didn’t know what to feel. You were excited, nervous, emotional, but most of all, anxious. You didn’t know how to break the news to your boyfriend and you weren’t sure whether or not you wanted to keep it.

For a few days, you didn’t say anything to him. You weren’t the best with words and you didn’t want to dump something so sudden onto him either, but he eventually figured it out when he found you one morning throwing up your breakfast into the toilet.

He wasn’t angry or upset, but you knew something wasn’t right with him after he found out. He started to become somewhat distant and he avoided any conversation about the baby growing inside you. Then, that same day you ended up at the bar, you had woken up to him gone. All of his items and personal belongings had been cleaned out, and when you tried to get a hold of him, he just completely ghosted you. You didn’t understand. Was it you? Was it the baby? Why did he just up and leave you like that with zero hesitation? It was like your heart had been shattered into pieces and you didn’t know what to do. He left you alone and pregnant with his child.

Completely brokenhearted and confused, that’s how you ended up in the bar. No, you weren’t drinking any alcohol, but there was a part of you that wanted to head to the clinic and terminate the pregnancy all together. You couldn’t raise a baby on your own. You had seen many stories of mothers defying the odds and managing, but would you be able to? You loved your now ex boyfriend more than life itself. You didn’t think you could fall in love again, and what man would want a single mother as a girlfriend? Most of them would scurry away the second it’s brought up. It wasn’t their job to shame you for whatever choices you made.

The bar's atmosphere was buzzing with people chatting amongst themselves. Despite being around people, you still felt completely isolated inside of it. You kept thinking of the choices in your brain over and over again. It was consuming you, and you didn’t think you were in the right state of mind to make that decision right now.

You were brought out of your thoughts when the bartender placed a glass in front of you. It was filled with some kind of alcohol that looked like it could be a margarita or a martini. Your brows furrowed at the sight of the beverage. You didn’t order it. “U-Um.. sir, I didn’t order this.” you pushed the glass towards the man behind the bar who was cleaning some cups used earlier.

“I know, but that man over there did.” he pointed towards the other end of the bar.

You turned your attention to where he was motioning his hand. Your eyes widened a little at the sight of the man who sat a few seats away from you. He had a cowboy hat on top of his head, and very long hair that stretched past his chair. He was wearing a white button up shirt that exposed his chest just a little. He noticed you were staring at him and winked at you, then waved a little. It didn’t seem creepy or strange, but you didn’t know how to react. Despite feeling the way you did, you couldn’t help but think how handsome he was. He had a cunning smile and seemed like one of those cowboys you would have heard of in stories you heard when you were younger, but you knew you couldn’t accept his drink.

Soon enough, you turned away and just pushed your drink from your reach. You didn’t want to do anything stupid. If it came off as rude, then so be it. You weren’t about to fight with another man this evening.

You decided to check your phone. There was a small bit of hope that was in your heart. You hoped that maybe your ex reached out to you to fix things or maybe had something to say, but unfortunately, there was nothing. You had a few random notifications from friends, but otherwise, it was silence on the other end. God, you felt like an idiot. He was gone for good. Men who do that shit typically fall off the face of the earth and never come back again.

“Hey, sweetheart, mind if I take this spot next to ya?”

You practically jumped out of your skin at the sudden voice that spoke beside you. Your head snapped towards the sound, and you were a bit surprised to see that man who was sitting across the bar now standing next to you. His cologne filled your nose. It smelled of deep wood with a mix of pine.

Your words got caught in your throat. Was he doing this to make you uncomfortable? Part of you wanted to ignore him, but he wasn’t necessarily doing anything wrong. “N-No! Go ahead.. it’s empty anyway..” you replied, trying to avoid his eyes that were boring holes into your face.

The man plopped beside you, taking a swig of his glass that seemed to be filled with some kind of whisky. He was quiet, at first. You weren’t sure if striking up a conversation was in your cards tonight. You were honestly too lost in your thoughts, and somewhat a little nauseated. “So, uh, do ya come around here often? You’re quite the peach if I say so myself.” he placed his cheek against his fist which was resting against the table beside him.

“I don’t..” you replied, dryly.

He seemed a little discouraged by your sudden lack of enthusiasm. It wasn’t your intention, but really, you weren’t interested. “I see.. my name’s Boothill.” he said. “Yours?”

Your eyes flickered towards him then back at the soda can that your hand was wrapped around. This was starting to feel awkward or almost like a forced conversation. You didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but you wanted him to take the hint. “(Y/N)..” you looked at your cell phone to try and avoid him. “Look.. I-I appreciate the drink, but I’m not really interested in a relationship. I just don’t.. I..”

Before you were even able to finish your sentence, tears began to trickle down your cheeks. You didn’t even know you were holding them in until they began to slip from your eyes.

Boothill was taken back by your sudden tears. He immediately felt guilt wash over him. He didn’t mean to come off as a weirdo or forceful towards you. That’s the last thing he would ever do. “Hey.. I’m sorry, shit, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I-I can totally take the drink back and get out of your hair.” he stood up out of his chair to leave the bar.

You started to wipe your cheeks of any liquid that was on them. “N-No, it’s alright, it’s not you..” you shook your head. “I’ve just had a rough couple of hours.. believe me, it’s not you at all.”

The man was unsure of what to reply with. Regardless, he felt very bad for you. Not many people come into bars to weep. Most of the time, they come to do the opposite and use the drinks to numb any negative feelings they have. He didn’t want to pry by any means. “I see.. I’m still sorry, darlin’ I had no idea..” he paused for a moment thinking of what to say next. “If you wanna talk, I’m willing to listen, can’t guarantee I’m any good at advice, but I can be an open ear.”

You weren’t sure if venting your feelings to a complete stranger would make any difference in how you felt. It's not like he would care much anyway. He would probably look at you with that same look every other person had given you when you told them what your ex did.

However, you were completely wrong.

That day you told Boothill everything that had happened to you. He was completely blown away when you confessed that you were pregnant. He kept apologizing for the drink and was somewhat worried that you felt disrespected, but you didn’t take any offense. It’s not like he knew, nor were you even showing at that point.

Although he didn’t know you, he had a lot of sympathy for you. He told you that your boyfriend wasn’t a man, but a young boy who couldn’t take responsibility for his actions and he didn’t deserve you by any means. Boothill felt as if abandoning a woman and her child was the sickest thing you could ever do in this life, and you couldn’t help but agree. Especially after spending many years together.

It felt kind of nice to have someone listen. Even if he was some random person you didn’t know, there was at least somebody out there who was willing to give you the time of day.

You felt a little dull when you realized you would probably never see Boothill again, but you thanked him many times for his patience. He was even sweet enough to walk you back to your apartment which wasn’t very far from the bar at all. Typically, you weren’t so trusting when it came to men in general, but Boothill’s energy felt secure for some reason. You didn’t feel fear or unease around him. Your body would always give you signs someone wasn’t good, but you were calm and didn’t have a single issue.

For a little while, you wondered if keeping the child was the right option, but after a lot of conversations with your friends and family, and oddly enough, Boothill, you decided to go forward with the pregnancy.

You thought you would have to do it alone, but that changed almost instantly when you started receiving random items at your doorstep one morning.

You had a stable job, but you knew babies weren’t a walk in the park financially. Your parents offered to help pay for whatever was necessary, but you felt bad for making them do such a thing. It all started to shift when you discovered a package outside your apartment door. You had a box of different supplies. Baby shampoo, baby bottles, wipes, lotions. It was basic necessities for an infant and you were a bit confused how they showed up there. You questioned your parents but they denied ordering anything of the sorts, so you wondered who gifted it to you.

Your friends were also clueless. They had gifts in mind but they weren’t planning on purchasing anything that early on in your pregnancy. You hadn’t even planned on a baby shower or anything of the sorts.

It didn’t take long for more things to arrive. One morning, you saw that you had been given some baby toys. They were small and quite cute, but you still had yet to discover who was the one leaving them at your doorstep. You wondered if it was potentially your ex trying to somehow compensate you for deserting you, but would he really? He left you alone with the baby. It was clear enough that he wasn’t interested in helping to raise it, so why put in the effort to accommodate you? He could care less about you.

It all changed when you were leaving your apartment one afternoon. You had an appointment at the doctor’s office to check on how the baby was doing, and standing right beside your front door was not your ex, but Boothill.

At first, you didn’t notice him holding a box of items in his hand, but the realization soon took over that he was the one buying the gifts. You were taken by complete surprise. The two of you had hardly interacted much during that time period, so it did confuse you why he was helping you. He wasn’t obligated to just because you informed him of what your ex did. It wasn’t like you were begging him for money or assistance either. Boothill was just as surprised to see you there too. He usually would stop by when he knew you wouldn’t be around, but he knew sooner or later the truth would come out.

With a flushed face, Boothill began to explain himself.

He told you that he just couldn’t let you go on that journey alone. He knew it wasn’t his responsibility to be buying you things or even being involved in your life like that, but at the same time, he couldn’t sleep at night knowing that you were all alone and there wasn’t anybody else to be there for you. He did apologize if it made you uncomfortable and he wouldn’t come around again if that was the case.

However, you told him the opposite. You were very thankful for what he had been doing for you. Not many men would step up and just go out of their way to buy things for a baby that wasn’t theirs. You told him you were very appreciative of what he had done, and he could come around as often as he liked. It was kind of lonely being by yourself all of the time. Your friends weren’t always the most available, and you lived on your own. It felt nice to know that somebody wanted to spend time with you. He was relieved that you weren’t weirded out or upset with his actions. He wanted to do the right thing.

Much to his surprise, you invited him to come to your ultrasound that day, and he was thrilled.

Your interactions grew over the course of a few months. You started seeing him everyday and he came around whenever you needed something. Boothill didn’t mind spending his days with you. It was a joy to watch your belly grow and to see your baby begin to become larger than it was before. His favorite moments were when he’d feel a small kick or movement. He loved kids. It was a guilty pleasure of his, and he honestly couldn’t wait to meet your baby girl. He made so many bets that it was going to be a girl and you thought he would somehow be wrong, but he was right the entire time.

Along with the baby's growth, there were also feelings between you and Boothill too. He was the first man in your life since your ex and he treated you so much better. He did everything for you, and the baby wasn’t even his. He would spend time helping you tidy up your house, holding your hair away from your face when you had morning sickness, making you tea, giving you massages whenever your body felt sore. Boothill did everything. He even offered at one point to do the entire nursery for you when your due date came closer, but you assured him that it wasn’t his duty to do so.

But, he planned on doing it anyway.

All of your friends told you to go for it. They said that Boothill was what you needed and they could tell he was into you too, but you were still unsure. If anything, he could be doing all of this just to somehow hurt you in the end or claim you “owed” him a relationship for doing everything for the baby. You knew that probably wasn’t the case, but you were still on the fence.

But, was he?

That afternoon, you had woken up from a nap to a knocking coming from your front door. You weren’t expecting any guests, but you had already assumed it was Boothill who was there to do his usual drop by to check in on you.

You unlocked the front door, pulling it open so he could enter. He was dressed in his usual outfit. A white button shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and those cowboy boots that you had made fun of a few times. Boothill was used to just entering your place at that point. “Afternoon, darlin’” he said, shutting the door behind him.

Your hair was a bit messy from your nap and you weren’t really dressed up. You wore an oversized t-shirt with a pair of shorts that sat just below your belly. It was a lot more comfortable than the regular pajamas you were used to wearing months ago, but alas, the growth of your body had made those a lot less comfortable these days. Boothill still thought you were gorgeous despite the messy look. “Hi..” you yawned. “Sorry, I’m fresh from a nap. I didn’t hear my alarm..”

“Not a problem, I was just stopping by to drop something off for you.” he replied, handing you a box that had your name on top of it.

Your eyes flickered from the box to the man who was staring down at you. You were used to him giving you random things for the baby here and there, so you were expecting something that was a necessity. “I’m curious, let me see.” you then began opening at the box to see what was inside of it.

After a few seconds, you pulled out a small blanket, but it wasn’t one that was from the store. It was actually homemade, and right in the center was the baby name you had picked out stitched into the fabric with baby pink lace. It was probably the most adorable thing you had ever received from him. It was so soft and you could already picture yourself swaddling your little girl in the blanket itself. The fact that it was homemade as well made it even more special than it already was.

You weren’t sure if it was the pregnancy emotions or not, but you could feel warm tears burning your eyes. It was truthfully making you feel so happy for this pregnancy, but most of all for Boothill. You couldn’t be more blessed with a man like him. “I-I.. I love it..” you sniffled, trying to hide your tears. “It’s so cute..”

Boothill was concerned with your sudden emotions. He didn’t mean to make you cry. If anything, he wanted to do something special for you since you were a special person in his life. “Ahh.. shit, I’m sorry, lovely, is it too much?” he asked, nodding his head.

You shook your head, laughing in the process to try and halt the tears slipping through your eyes. It was the furthest thing from too much. You adored it. You didn’t care if the stitching was a little crooked or if the pink was somewhat bright, it was cute. It had to be one of the best gifts you had ever gotten. “N-No! I love it! It’s something I wouldn’t have imagined you’d give me! Did you do it all on your own?” you looked up at him with an eyebrow raised.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Haha.. yeah, that’s why it might seem a little messy. I got the idea though and figured why not? You need something to swaddle that little monster with!” he smiled, which made you smile as well.

Boothill was taken back when he suddenly felt your arms wrap around him. This was the first time you had ever initiated any sort of physical contact with him, and he wasn’t sure how to react to it. Your body felt warm and your belly was against his own abdomen. He could smell the scent of your shampoo lingering in your hair, and it almost intoxicated him from how delicious it smelled. He hesitated for a brief moment, then settled his own arms around your waist. It just felt.. so right to be hugging you. He had yearned for quite a while to feel your touch, and now that he had it, he wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip through his fingers.

Your cheeks felt hot at the realization that you two were so close. There was so much going through your mind at the moment, and all you craved was him. His presence, his touch, his warmth, anything. It was all you wanted. “Boothill.. I want you there when she’s born..” you spoke, softly. “I want you by my side.. you deserve that more than anybody else.”

His eyes grew wide at your words. Sure, he knew he was going to visit when your baby was finally born, but in the room? During the birth? Oh, he could faint right about now. “Of course I’ll be there, sugar. You know I wouldn’t miss it.” he replied, smiling at the thought of your birth.

Boothill then crouched down to meet your belly. He hadn’t ever done that before while being with you. You felt his hands touch your stomach, seemingly searching for your little girl who was somewhere in there. It felt so natural for him to be doing this. You didn’t feel off or weirded out. You loved the way his fingers explored your skin, touching and grazing at the stretch marks that had formed within time, but what you loved the most, was him.

“Can’t wait to meet your little one.. she’ll be a peach, I know it.” he looked up at you with a grin.

“Our.. little one.”

Boothill paused when the words slipped from your lips. He thought he had misheard you for a second. “W-What..?” his brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

You felt a little bashful having to repeat yourself. You weren’t sure what his reaction might be to you saying such a thing, but you couldn’t keep quiet anymore about your feelings. You wanted him involved in your daughter’s life so badly. It would kill you inside if that wasn’t the case. “O-Our.. baby, Boothill.” you said, avoiding his gaze that was fixed on you.

He stood up, still staring at your face with a serious expression. It was like his heart had completely blown up inside of his chest. It was like he was falling in love with you all over again at that very moment. He couldn’t feel more honored that you thought of him that way. “You’re serious..?” he questioned, looking into your eyes.

“Y-Yes.. god, yes, Boothill. I don’t care if she’s not technically yours.. in the end, I want you in her life, and mine too. I can’t imagine a life without you..” you whispered, intertwining your fingers with his.

He couldn’t hide his wide smile at your confession. All of the love he had swallowed down was now completely overflowing, and he didn’t mind whatsoever. You were so beautiful. He adored you so much, and he was more than happy to call you his girlfriend. He was also thrilled to have a daughter. He could care less if people would judge him for raising a child that wasn’t his. He was more of a father to her than any other man would be.

He suddenly pulled you close to him, pressing a kiss onto your lips. It was so passionate and loving. He couldn’t stop himself. It was like he was finally able to have what he wanted, and it felt amazing. “I love you so much, darling, you don’t even know how deep my love runs for you..” he pressed his forehead against your own. “I’d die for you and our little angel..”

A grin appeared on your face. This was all you ever wanted to hear. You didn’t think you would ever have the opportunity to hear him say such things, but you couldn’t be happier it was coming true. “I love you more, Boothill.” you then placed his hand on your belly. “And I know she does too..”

The both of you couldn’t be more excited at that moment. It was all perfect. You had everything you ever wanted. Neither of you imagined that this life would be in front of you now, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ official work !#boothill x reader #boothill x you #boothill x y/n #boothill fluff #boothill fanfiction #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #star rail x reader #star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr fluff #star rail fluff #honkai star rail fluff #honkai star rail fanfiction #hsr fanfic

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neowinestainedress · 2 days

Note

IM BEGGING ABT SUB!JISUNG WHO IS VERY PASSIVE AND RECEPTIVE PLEASEEE 😭😭😭

w!: femdom, orgasm control/denial, pegging, overstimulation, dom!reader, sub!jisung. no use of y/n, no physical description (no body type, hair, skin color etc)

a/n: if last year someone told me that my first writing post of 2024 would've been a jisung “drabble” i would've laughed at their face but here we are. i'm struggling to write lately so PLEASE please if you liked it let me know and reblog so more people can read it. enjoy!

Jisung would do anything for you. Or, well, to be more accurate, he would do anything to please you.

You can’t name what you two share; if you did, you’d probably call it a tangle of messy bedsheets, wet lip kisses, and whispered moans. But there is something holding you two together.

“Please, please, you can’t,” he stutters through gritted teeth. His head is rolled back, resting against the bedframe, damp hair sticks to his handsome face that’s tinted a bright red, and his hips jerk uncontrollably against your hand.

“I can’t, what? Jisung,” you reply with a slight stern edge in your voice. Your hand stops at the base of his throbbing dick, leaking a copious amount of pre-cum, rolling down his length until it meets your palm.

“No-nothing, I’m – I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m sorry,” he mumbles shaking his head.

“Good,” you smile smugly. “Cause you don’t make the rules here, I do.”

“Yes, yes, you do,” he hums closing his eyes as he tries to concentrate on his breathing.

“And I don’t see why I should let you come so soon when you look so pretty for me,” you tease and notice how he almost glares at you before he quickly turns his disappointment into a frown.

So soon.

You’ve been edging him for at least 30 minutes; chasing his build-up just to crash it, ruining every chance of an orgasm right in front of his face, the promise of being pegged slipping more and more away.

It’s not a punishment. You know it, and he knows it, too. He loves this. He loves when you’re all over him, your soft left hand crazing his skin while the right one moves with quick motions on his hard dick. Your lips leaving kisses like brushes of a feather on his sensible neck. The strong tug of your fingers in his black, long hair, making him hiss.

And you love this, too. Jisung reacts perfectly at each snap of your finger. He’s so delicate as soon as you enter your private bubble and leave the world outside, crumbling at your feet like a sandcastle. His clothes are quickly on the floor as he lets you guide you to the bed where he lets you do anything you please. And all it takes to make him fall apart is you touching him. Your hands on his burning skin set him on fire, and elicit raspy begs for “more” following calls of your name as his pleading eyes look into yours.

“You’re so pretty, you know?” You will never get tired of reminding him that when his eyes light up at each compliment. “My pretty boy.”

“Yeah, yours,” he replies, voice slurred. You’re sure by the end of the night it will be completely hoarse.

He’s doing everything he can to hold the nth orgasm in. He hates to fail, especially with you. He has to keep it together. But you’re not doing anything to help him.

You lean over, pressing your arms together, pushing your boobs closer, the soft curves bulging out of your skin-tight top. Jisung wants to die. He needs to touch you, but you don’t let him, not now. It’s your turn to have fun, he’s just a toy in your hands right now, he has to watch and take. But he can’t endure it any longer.

“You’re making a mess, babe,” you pout, looking between his legs. “I can’t let you come or else you’ll make even worse.”

“No, no, please, I – I won’t, it’s too much,” he cries out.

“Okay, then,” you say. You watch his eyes light up, a sigh of relief bolt over his face, just for it to drop as soon as your hand leaves his body. His eyes panic, he doesn’t even dare to look down to confirm your hand is not there anymore. You’ve done it again.

“No, please,” Jisung whines. This time he can’t hide his annoyance.

“I thought you wanted my dick,” you say, tilting your head to the side.

“Yes but,” he almost sobs, “that will make me come as soon as… you know…” he whispers, too shy to say it loud, looking away.

“Mhh, no, I fear I don’t know.”

“God, why are you like this?”

“Excuse me?” You scold.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but… I, I need to come. You’ve edged me for so long, I will… I will come as soon as you enter me if I don’t, and you won’t let me come that easily.”

This is not a punishment. So, yes, he has a point. You do have a lot of fun doing this, watching him struggle to keep it together as you fuck into him. However, today is not the day.

Without adding a word, your hand is back around his dick, moving up and down quickly. The sudden movement makes him gasp and he has to contain himself to don’t squeal in exactment.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he mumbles before the only things coming out of his mouth are moans. His hips buckle against you, desperately chasing the long awaited high.

“Come on, let go,” you order, and before his brain can even register the sound, he comes undone in your hands. White cum spurts over your hand, arms and his abs, making a mess like predicted, but you don’t stop, milking him until there’s nothing left behind and he has to beg you to stop.

“Good boy,” you praise, stopping your movements before leaning close. “Calm down, you did great.” Your words make him smile, but he still leans in for a kiss. “You can touch me,” you mumble in the kiss when you notice his hesitating hands lingering close to your body, and you don’t need to repeat yourself.

Jisung pulls you closer, kneading the skin of your hips, long fingers pressing into your skin. He’s a bit aggressive sometimes without noticing, his eagerness makes him clumsy, but you don’t care, that’s another thing you like about him.

“Do you still want me to fuck you?” You ask when you pull away, reaching for the bedside table to grab a napkin and clean yourself.

“Yes, please, I wanted you all day, you’ve been driving me crazy,” he says, getting ready to lay on his back.

He didn’t lie, you did tease him all day long. You were quite surprised you made it home and didn’t end up doing it in the car.

His hungry eyes burn on you as you undress and slip in the strap-on. It makes you feel so powerful as you stare down at his bare figure, laying powerless on the mattress.

“You’re so hot,” Jisung whispers, face catching fire as soon as you look at him and smile. He’s so shy and embarrassed; your favorite type to mess with.

When your lube-covered fingers slip into his tight hole, his head rolls back as he traps his lower lip between his teeth to not let out pathetic moans.

“Is this all you need? My fingers?”

“You’re good,” he stutters. “You’re too good.”

You grin. You know you are.

As you get him ready to take your dick, you let your fingers slide deep inside and curl up just as he likes it, slow and nice, to let him feel everything.

You get drunk in his low moans, muffled by the arm he put on top of his mouth to don’t sound so desperate, and the way his dick is hardening again, slowly throbbing on his defined abs.

“You think you’re ready for me?”

Jisung nods enthusiastically. “Yes, I always am. Please, fuck me,” he begs, hands reaching out to touch you.

“If you say so,” you smile, pulling your fingers out of him, making him groan in disappointment.

You pour a generous amount of lube on your strap and push it against his entrance. One hand runs under the back of his thigh to pull him closer as the other grabs the base of the dildo to start pushing into him.

As you slide inside, your eyes don’t leave his. Your heart races as you watch him fight to keep his eyes open (you want him to look at you when you do this) but he succeed, cause he’s just too good.

“Touch me,” you order when you bottom in. He’s tired, completely consumed by lust, but he listens without wasting a second. His hands cup your boobs, starting to pleasure you as you slowly move out of him. He knows how much you love his hands, and he does all the tricks he knows you love; playing with your nipples, squeezing them, cupping the soft flesh. “Good boy,” you praise.

But it’s hard to be so good when you pick up a steady rhythm.

“You’re big,” he cries out as his head rolls back and his lips part to let out louder moans.

“But you can take me, can’t you?” You tease, but behind your words hides genuine concern. He has this habit of rushing into things because he’s greedy.

“Yes, yes, I can do anything for you,” he replies, nodding swiftly.

“Good,” you hum. When you lean closer to kiss him, his hands wrap around your shoulders to pull you closer. His hips roll against you, messily trying to meet you halfway, and before you realize, his legs wrap around your body.

“Somebody’s more eager than usual today,” you grin, brushing his wet black hair behind.

“I’m – I’m sorry, I want you so bad.”

“I’m right here,” you assure, kissing his cheek. “Do you want it harder?”

Words struggle to come out and the only thing he can do is nod quickly. You straighten your back and then your hands grab his waist to pull him closer to you. The new position allows you to fuck faster into him, the harsh slam of your hips against his soft legs creating the vulgar sounds of skin loudly resonating in the room.

“Please, please,” he moans, his voice so deep and hoarse it hits you straight to the core. “Wanna come, please, please, I’ll be good.”

You quirk a brow. “Will you?”

“Yes,” he nods enthusiastically. “I’ll take another one, I’ll take – I’ll take everything you have to give me, but please, let me come,” he begs. His eyes stare into yours, and your heart skips a bit at his clumped wet lashes, tears are pooled at the corner and you know with this orgasm they will flow like rivers on his cheeks.

“Fine, you can come,” you say. Your hands clench harder around his waist, causing his skin to redden, but he barely feels it, too concentrated on the pleasure your fast thrusts are giving him. You don’t even need to touch his dick before he comes undone for the second time, shaking uncontrollably in your hands as the cum covers his lower abdomen.

But this time you don’t slow down when he’s done, your movements are steady and leave him breathless.

“Fuck,” he screams, fingers desperately reaching for you, and one of your hands intertwines with his fingers. But the soft gesture doesn’t match the ruthlessness of your movements.

“You’re a mess,” you point out, kissing him. The tears are streaming down his face, his lips are plump from the torture he applied with his teeth, his hair is a mess, and his chest is rising fast.

“But – but you like me,” he struggles to say, “you still like me, right? Please, tell me —fuck— tell me you still like me.”

You smile, caressing his burning cheek. “Of course, I do. You’re my beautiful mess, right?”

“Yes, yeah, I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m only —mmph— only yours,” he mutters.

“Yeah, mine,” you say, cupping his face before pulling him into a deep, long kiss.

Jisung’s hands run on your back, his short nails scratch your skin but you don’t mind, instead, you start moving even faster, pushing him close to the edge again.

“Not again,” he cries, pleading eyes looking up at you.

“You promised,” you remind him.

He sniffles, trying to clean up the mess on his face with the palm of his hand but only makes it worse. “But – but it’s too much, I can’t last long– longer.”

“We better make it quick, then.”

His eyes light up. “Wa-wait, I can – I can come again?”

You nod.

“Ca-can you help – help me?”

“Nope, no hands, babe. Don’t act like it’s hard for you.”

“But –”

Your stern gaze stops him in his tracks, and he simply nods. His eyes widen when you start teasing his nipples, and you both know it’s going to be even easier for him to come this time. And as expected in a few seconds he’s making a mess again. His moans are so messy and loud you’re surprised the neighbor didn’t come knock on your door yet.

“Fuck, fuck, God,” he cries loudly, hiding his face with the pillow that he’s holding so tight his knuckles are going white. “Please, please, I – I, fuck, fuck.” His words are an incoherent mess, and more and more strings of white lay where the others are dried up by now. “Too much, too much, ma’am, can’t, no more.”

You slow down while your hands caress his waist to soothe him, but his breathing is still frenetic and mumbles are coming out of his mouth.

“You did great, you did such a good job,” you whisper, moving the corner of the pillow out of his face, forcing him to let go, and caressing his burning face. “Let me kiss you.”

After the kiss you slip out of him completely and the emptiness makes him whine loudly. Once you’re out of the strap, you reach him with a glass of water and watch as he gulps it quickly.

“Color?” You ask. You still haven’t come, and you need it. But he has already done so much you don’t want to push him over the edge.

He slumps back on the bed, and you’re ready to hear a “red” but he surprises you. “Green, but I – I need just a few seconds to calm down. You’re too – too good at this,” he chuckles, blushing bright red.

You smile, caressing his face. “You can use your fingers if you’re too stimulated.”

He shakes his head. “No, I – I want you to feel you, please.”

You chuckle at how he’s already in that mood again, ready to beg and do anything to make you feel good and make you proud of him.

“Are you ready?” You ask as you straddle his lap.

Jisung gulps and then nods, letting his hands rest on your hips. “I just – I can’t promise I’ll last long.”

“It’s alright. Touch yourself, get yourself hard for me.”

His right hand leaves your side to wrap around his soft dick, and as soon as his fingers come in contact with his skin he jerks up. He’s so fucking sensitive. And he knows he might’ve flown too close to the sun, but he doesn’t want to back down.

He rarely gets to be inside of you, and he loves it, especially when he’s so stimulated. Will he turn into a mess in two seconds again? Yes. Does he care? No.

“Go slowly,” you say, watching as his big hand slides up and down his length. His long fingers shake every time he comes close to the sensitive tip and a strangled moan gets trapped in his throat.

“Do – do you like this? Am I being good for you?” He asks with a shaking voice, eyes desperately seeking your validation.

You nod. “So good. Just a few more, babe.”

He hums, swallowing again as he tries to fight himself to not get close to another orgasm. But you’re not cruel, you just need him to get hard again.

“Enough,” you order, making him stop immediately. His hand goes back on your body and his hard dick throbs against his abs. “Are you ready for me?”

“Yes, I am, please, fuck me,” Jisung begs, grinding his hips against you.

You snicker, shaking your head. “So greedy. After everything we did, you still want more.”

“Yes, I need you. And I – I want you to feel good.”

You need that too. Seeing him fall apart on your strap got you weak in your knees, and now you need to come. You know you won’t last long either when you’ve been on the edge all night.

When you slide on top of him, his hips buck up, making you choke on a moan. “Jisung,” you scold.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “Please, use me.”

And you do. You start to move up and down, feeling him fill you up, reaching so deep inside of you.

“Touch me,” you order. “You know how I like it.”

Jisung is lost in his haze, the afterglow of before mixing with the lust of this moment is getting completely in his head and this simple task seems impossible, but he always gives you what you want and ask for.

So, even if not so quickly, his fingers reach your clit. When he starts rubbing it in swift circles, you see stars, and you know it won’t take long to fall apart.

“You’re so wet, and feel so – so good,” he cries out. The way you squeeze around him is driving him insane, stimulating him like never before. “I need you, can you – can you kiss me? I won’t – I won’t stop I promise.”

You don’t reply, and simply lean in to give him what he wants. His movements stop for a brief second but restart shortly after. Your moans blend in the kiss as your hand reaches his hair to tug on it, earning a low grunt from him.

“You like it when I treat you roughly, don’t you?” You pull away just enough to get a glimpse of his face before tugging again, watching as his lips part to set free an even deeper moan.

“Ye-yes, you can – you can do whatever you want with me,” he mumbles.

��I know, honey, I know,” you grin before kissing him again. This time it’s rough and desperate, taking his breath away.

When you pull away to have more room to move on top of him, your hand places on his chest before running up to reach his neck. Your thumb runs over his neck, caressing his adam’s apple as it bobs in his throat. He reached the limit. He’s holding on to make you feel good but you can see he’s pushing himself for you. There’s nothing in his eyes, just lust and need to release. His moans are loud and incoherent, and his hips pathetically try to meet you halfway. And when your hand wraps around his neck, he loses it.

“Mhh, please, please,” he starts begging, his words sounding even more embarrassing muffled by your hand restricting the flow of air in his lung. The hand that is not working on you clenches hard around your waist, his nails leaving marks on your skin. “Need you, please.”

“I’m right here.”

Jisung cries, shaking his head. “Need you to – to come. Please, come with me. I’m – I’m good, right? You – you are close.”

“You think so?” You tease.

And he almost starts sobbing. “Yeah,” he cries in a snarl. “I know I – I make you feel good. I’m good for you, I know I am, please, tell me I’m – I’m your good toy.”

You’d love to play with him more, but he’s at his breaking point, and even if all of this is playful you can see he’s far too deep in subspace and any degrading word might hit him too close.

“You are,” you whisper, letting go of his neck to kiss him. “You’re my good boy. And since you’re my good boy —fuck— you will come with me, right?”

“Yes, yes, I – I will, please, yes, yes,” he replies, reaching for your lips again.

“Come with me.”

“Oh, fuck,” he moans. “Thank you, thank you, fuck, thank you so – so much,” he mumbles breathlessly, words mixing with groans and whimpers as both of your orgasm break through. Your movements falter as the pleasure gets to your head and you finally let go of the built-up pressure, but you still ride him until you make sure you’re both done.

And when you’re sure there’s nothing more to take and give, you collapse on his body.

“Stay,” Jisung murmurs, wrapping his arms around your back when you try to roll to the side. “Please, stay,” his voice shakes, and a sob rolls from his tongue.

“Jisung?” You ask worriedly, lifting your head to look at him.

“I’m fine, I just…” he sniffles, “I… I want to feel you, and…cuddle some more.”

You smile, letting out a sigh of relief. “Can I at least slip out of you?”

He nods, and you slowly get off him. “You have cum everywhere, can I clean you up?”

“No. I mean, yes, but not now, can we… can we just cuddle? I need you.”

He’s still into his subspace and you won’t pull him out of there. You know he will fall asleep in that mess, but you can take care of that later.

“Come here, rest your head against my chest,” you say, laying at his side, opening your arms so he can cuddle between them. “Is this alright?”

“Perfect,” he mutters, nuzzling against your bare chest. “You smell good.”

“Well, thanks, but I’d say I smell like sex.”

“Mhh,” he whispers. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“It’s nothing, I have fun with you, and I like you.”

He hums, and then some seconds of silence follow before the loudest thing he can say slips from his lips. “I love you.”

You still, body stiffening, and look down. “You… what?”

“I think I love you,” he replies nonchalantly, voice muffled by your chest.

You can’t find the words to reply and, in your heart, you don’t know. “I don’t… I don’t know how to react. I think you’re confused.”

You feel him shake his head, and you wonder how conscious he is.

“I think we should… mhh, maybe talk about this tomorrow,” you say, trying to keep it cool, but you know he can feel your heart beating an abnormal amount inside your rib.

“Fine,” he whispers, holding you closer. “Just don’t leave.”

You gulp and look down. And as you watch Jisung’s body relax as he succumbs to sleep; his long lashes sitting on his rosy cheeks, his long hair framing his handsome face, his plump lips slightly parted puffing hair, you think to yourself you’re screwed.

“Don’t worry, I won’t leave.”

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

#anon answered #jisung hard hours #jisung smut #park jisung smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct hard hours #nct dream hard hours #sub!nct

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brainrot-of-a-thot · 1 day

Text

fair warning: this is another, somewhat emotional, word vomit post.

please feel free to skip this if you aren’t interested in reading it; it’s okay, babes, I won’t be offended. I’m creating this post as a means of expressing my emotions and my feelings (and, blegh, how dare you babes make me feel those) and there was no way I couldn’t do it.

so, got kinda bored and decided to poke in on my analytics and —

um, what?

babes, this is within a week. my blog has been active for 8 days.

now, for a lot of writers (myself included) seeing these kind of numbers brings a sense of pride, giddiness, and recognition. and of course, those shiny little things are addictive fuel to us.

but these numbers also say something else to me — looking at these, all I can think is:

all together, five thousand people have taken the time to read a post from me; and that post made them feel something in such a way that they left a note on it.

now, maybe at face value, that doesn’t seem all that important. but from personal experience, I know that someone can read a post, like it, and never interact with it beyond that. they don’t leave any notes or comments — they just scroll on to the next.

and that’s perfectly okay! when writers publish things online, it’s for people to read — whether or not they leave recognition or love on it. I understand and accept this fact wholeheartedly.

but the fact that someone took the time and consideration to do so means so much to us as writers.

what it tells me is that my post — my little, more-likely-than-not self-indulgent fic positively impacted someone. even if for just a small snippet of time, my words were able to reach someone and offer them a sense of comfort. made them feel something, anything.

and that is the joy of writing, in my personal opinion.

having the ability to completely turn someone’s mood (maybe even day) around by doing something that you already enjoy, love and cherish doing? that’s fuckin’ sick.

to be able to offer comfort to someone who may be struggling, to be able to offer them a means of escape from the harshness of the world for a bit, all with the click of a button? even fuckin’ sicker.

babes, I enjoy writing more than any other hobby — but after interacting with all of you, I enjoy it even more. y’all have given me the warmest, cutest, most (awesomely) overwhelming reception that, honestly, it just blows my mind.

and all of your comments, all of your reblogs, all of your requests, suggestions, and general compliments make me feel like I’m on top of the world — and now, rather than writing with just joy, I write with joy and purpose.

not purpose in a sense that, “oh, I have all these followers and I have an obligation to deliver,” but purpose as in “I have all these amazing, unique, patient, beautiful individuals who genuinely love what I do, who find comfort in my literal hobby, who feel safe and included with me, and I want to keep offering them that” kind of purpose.

it’s such a beautiful thing.

I guess what I’m trying to say, without all ooey-gooey feelings involved, is that you babes have changed writing for me forever — and it’s for the better. you gave me a purpose, many friends, maybe even a fan base (I kinda hate saying that because it feels conceited) and I couldn’t be more grateful. none of this — my blog, my ability to reach others, my newfound enjoyment in writing, would have been possible without you babes. thank you, truly, from the very depths of my heart and soul.

stay beautiful, babes <3

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mybworlds · 2 days

Text

CHAPTER 11

status: ongoing

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: your life is full of 'must'. You live with your overprotective mother who controls every aspect of your life. You have a dream, to write romance novels, but love - real love - you haven't found yet. Your mother has even decided what you must do in your free time: play music. One day, however, when you go to your music teacher's house, you will have an unexpected encounter and from that day on things change…

Masterlist

rating: 18+ explicit (minors, DNI)

Before to start... Thank you for your support, for your likes and reblog, thank you, thank you, thank you ❤️If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging and leaving comments 🫶 if you don't like it don't be rude and keep going. 😉 Please remember English is not my first language, so please be merciful! 🙏

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner and thanks @saradika-graphics for the divider.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed

The next day you wake up against the door of your room, you don't know what time it is or what day it is, you don't have your cell phone, you feel dazed, your eyes are swollen which you open with difficulty, you only see that it is daytime because the sunlight illuminates your room, you barely get up and go to the window.

People walk quietly down the street, there are small groups of kids walking here and there, a couple of couples holding hands, a father and daughter walking hand in hand. You rest your hands on the window feeling miserable and burdened, you place your forehead against the window and close your eyes, you think of Joel, who knows if he called, if he wrote to you!

You hope your mother didn't read or see his calls! Luckily you have the block on your phone.

“You don't want to fly away? Then fly away,” you think back to Joel's words.

You open your eyes again, walk to the door, and make to open it, but it's still closed.

“Mom? Mom open it.”

You hear her footsteps, and this time after a few seconds the door opens, your mother is wearing a red coat, her hair is combed back, she is lightly made up, and she is still peering at you coldly. She doesn't speak; she waits for you to do so.

“I don't deserve this,” you tell her, wanting to use a firm tone of voice, but your tone of voice is shaky.

“I don't know what to do with you anymore.” she says in a defeated tone of voice “I thought making you attend my prayer group, making you take music lessons would make you better than your father, and instead…” she leaves the sentence hanging.

When she wants to hurt you, she compares you to your father. You don't know exactly what he did, but it is certainly something very serious. Or so you have always guessed from her words and the tone she uses when she mentions about him.

“Excuse me if I'm not the daughter you wish,” you tell her.

Usually when she compare you to the other parent, you always told her what can I do to change your mind, she told you that you should study and try harder, be more obedient, and after a few weeks, serenity returned between the two of you because you got back in line, in her lines. Today, you don't want to say that statement anymore. It is not fair that everything you want is constantly repressed and belittled. It is not fair that she prevents you from seeing someone. You cannot allow that.

Your mother sighs, then shakes her head. “So who was the man Mrs. Bixby saw?” she asks again.

You don't want to get Joel in trouble, you can't.

“His name is Jack.” you answer her “I met him when I was waiting for you at the end of my music class, I had finished a few minutes earlier and went into a bar to have a glass of water.” you tell her.

“We're getting somewhere.” she says hearing you confess “How long have you been seeing him? Have you seen him again? What does he do?” she begins with her many questions.

“Since a couple of months, Jack studies psychology. We've always seen each other in public places like the library, restaurant, diner, never here or at his home. Nothing has ever happened, if that's what you care to know,” you say finding a firmer tone of voice.

If she knew what you do with Joel.

“I'd like to meet him,” she says.

“Mom it's a little early, we don't know each other yet to have him come here to the house,” you try to dissuade her.

“I insist!”

You lower your head, you don't have a choice. By now you have to do this or your mother would start again and forbid you any kind of outing.

“All right,” you reply not at all enthusiastically.

Instead, she seems to visibly calm down, “Fine,” she says.

“Where are you going?” you ask her.

“I go to church.” she replies and then she turns her back on you, “Ah, your damn cell phone has been ringing nonstop!” she exclaims.

You leave and make to go to the kitchen to get it back, but your mother once again stops you with her words “I saw there are messages from your friends and at least two from Joel Miller. None from Jack. It's kind of strange that he's not looking for you, isn't it?” she says making you freeze.

“We had a fight two nights ago,” you reply, shrugging your shoulders.

“Well, I'm going then.”

You nod, when you hear the door close you resume breathing normally and run to unlock your cell phone. You call Joel immediately. “Baby, finally!” he exclaims in an alarmed tone “I was scared for you. You okay?” he asks you.

“Joel, when are you coming?” you ask him not answering his question using an alarmed tone.

“I'm home. D' ya wanna me to pick you up?” he asks you in the same tone.

“No. Um, listen,” you check the door, “my mother suspects something. I can't make you come down here to me anymore, I'll come to you. I'll wait for her to go to the hospital tonight and then I'll sneak out. Okay?”

The door opens and you immediately close the phone pretending you are going to get some cookies for breakfast. Your mother is back, she forgot something she tells you and then goes out again. You breathe a huge sigh of relief, then go back to look at your phone and text Joel “Sorry I ended the call, I couldn't talk. I wish I didn't have to force you to go through this… “

Joel calls you back, you answer.

“You're going to tell me everythin' tonight. 7 o'clock 's okay for you?” he tells you.

If you could, you'd run straight to him.

“Yes. See you tonight,” you tell him, “Bye.”

“Miller careful with that or you'll end up without something very dear to you!” exclaims his colleague, the only female presence on the site, the only friend Joel has and who knows all about you and who has eagerly seen your presence in his friend's life.

Her name is Tess, she pats Joel's shoulders to call him to attention, he looks up and she smiles at him.

“Hey.” Joel greets her thoughtfully, the man is splitting bricks, but the cuts are inaccurate.

Tess stays behind him, “What?” asks Joel.

“Those bricks need to be split four inches farther apart, and then the angle is wrong.” Joel snorts, “What's the matter, Miller?”

“Nothin'.” his tone does not convince Tess, who grabs a rickety chair and sits down. She says nothing, just observes Joel continuing that wrong slanted cut. Joel snorts, actually you are his fixed thought, at first he was attracted to you because of your sweetness and great insecurity towards the world, towards everything that was unknown to you and he couldn't help but think of your eyes and its endless expressions of astonishment, joy, fear, but also desire and love as you you know each other. When you met, he would have thought anything but to think so much about someone after what had happened to his daughter Sarah and then with his partner! Indeed, when his brother Tommy had asked him to tell his pupil that there would be no more meetings, he never thought he would meet a sweet, pure and fragile girl like you, never thought he would find himself captivated by you, never.

“If you want to talk, I'm here,” Tess says again, lighting a cigarette.

Joel gives her a sidelong glance, “There's not much to say.” Joel picks up the hammer breaking another block.

“Is it about her, isn't it?” she asks.

Joel nods pronouncing your name in a whisper with such delicacy and sweetness as if you were the most precious gem in the world to him.

“I would like to be strong for both of us,” Joel says, throwing the hammer just farther, “but the truth is that knowin' her in danger, in this state of duress, hurts me. What I want is to hold her in my arms and tell her that I will always keep her safe with me.”

Joel quickly realizes, however, that this is not possible. You might have been thrilled about it, but while he himself would have been very happy about it, he still has a lot of doubts about how right it is to bond you with someone like him.

“Did you tell her about Jess?” Tess asks him, taking a puff of her cigarette.

“Yes.” Joel replies immediately, moving away from there and toward the scaffold. Tess follows him in a half-step, “I told her in a nutshell that it didn't end in the best way between us.”

“Did you also tell her she's around and from time to time you see her?” she asks him, resting her forearms on the scaffold's balustrade. Joel gives her a long, penetrating look that counts as an answer, which is no.

Joel still cannot talk about her unfiltered because to do so would mean talking about Sarah, and Sarah is a chapter of his life that he does not want to share with anyone. Unless he has to.

“I know you were really bad first about Sarah and then about Jess, but maybe with her you could-”

“Tess, do you mind if we don't talk about those years of my life at all,” the tone of his voice does not allow for different replies.

“All right.” Tess says “I had felt that you cared particularly for her.”

Joel sighs heavily. He is trying to remember why he still addresses the woman. At that moment it escapes him.

“Yes.”

“If it was a sex thing, I wouldn't have told you to talk to her about who-you-know.” she adds “But from what I understand it's more than that.” the man looks at her with an enigmatic gaze and Tess's eyes go wide “You haven't yet-- oh my God, then this is a serious thing!” she exclaims with a half-smile “And who would have expected old Miller to fall in love again!” she exclaims again patting the man's shoulder who rolls his eyes shaking his head.

Joel looks toward the buildings still under construction, he doesn't like to talk about his feelings, he was never good at expressing them if the situation was clear. Let alone today with you who are so much younger than him, you are absolutely inexperienced and naive! Nonetheless, Joel can't do without you or think about you.

Evening comes and Joel is in great apprehension about you: your voice, your tone were strongly cracked, your words had put him in a state of great agitation.

He has tidied up the house at the least, ordered Italian food, and he's waiting for you with great impatience.

When you knock on the door, he immediately runs to open it. Joel does not even have time to greet you, that you pounce on him, encircling his neck with your arms and burying your head in the crook of his neck. Joel wraps both arms around you and holds you tightly to him, closing his eyes.

“Baby.” he whispers in your ear then kissing one forehead “You're safe.” he tells you increasing his grip even more and then sinking a hand into your hair “My poor baby.” he repeats, you can't speak, you feel overwhelmed, you just stay in that position and inhale his strong scent.

You have, the two of you have, chills.

You can't separate yourself from that embrace, you don't know what to say to each other, but maybe that embrace is worth more than many words.

You eat in silence and only afterwards, when you are on the couch, you lying with your head on his thighs and him gently stroking your hair, you tell him what happened with your mother, you tell him that you are afraid to be there, that you would like to get out of there, to run away. You've always felt this state of oppression, but never as tightly as the night before.

“Please go away. You can come to me,” he tells you.

You look at him with a surprised look, you had thought about your friends, but certainly not him.

“Joel, I…”

“Think about it, but I don't want to know you're in danger. If something happened to you--” you raise your head and stand beside him "I could never forgive myself."

“Sssh,” you say as you sit on his lap, resting a finger on his lips, “I'm here now.”

He gently kisses your fingertip making your skin crawl, you smile at him and then pounce on his lips.

Spending the night in his bed gave you back an ounce of courage that your mother had previously deprived you of, breathing in his strong scent relaxes you, being hugged by him all night long makes you feel good and peaceful all of a sudden. In the morning you wake up like this still hugging each other: you have your back to him, he still holds you tightly to him, you open your eyes, your eyes still pinch a little from the loud crying of the night before, but you feel better already. You feel him moving just behind you, mumbling some unintelligible words, and you find yourself smiling and turning slowly toward him with your face and then your torso. You watch, thanks to the first light of dawn filtering through his bedroom window, his face still stretched out, his lips parted, his beard growing. You find him wonderful. You don't want to disturb him, but you can't help the urge to caress him. You gently stroke with your fingertip the contour of his face, his angular nose, the barely noticeable wrinkle between his eyebrows, his forehead, his beard, then his lips. Joel begins to wake up, smiling and muttering “Gmrning.” you find yourself smiling back before returning his greeting only to find your eyes in each other's. Those sweet chocolate eyes settle on you, he smiles at you and then holds you tightly to him again, you find yourself smiling at each other and exchanging sweet kisses, gently caressing each other.

“I would stay like this all day,” you confess to him, afraid to put your foot out the door of his house because you know that once you are out everything will go back to the way it was before and you will go back to being the one forced to act a certain way, to be a certain way. You don't want to, you don't want to. But you have to.

“I'm here for you. If that's what you wish…” he smiles at you, caressing your face this time with a finger "you will be granted." he says placing a finger on your lips, you gently press your lips against his fingertip without looking away from his eyes. You love to see how the expression in his eyes changes when you do something especially good for him, how his eyes seem to get bigger and darker. Which happens even now.

“Joel…” you say without finish your sentence.

He whispers your name, he pronounce it with desire.

You bridge that very short distance that separates you at once, your lips rest against each other, they open in unison, and your tongues dance at first softly then almost wildly, it is a kiss that takes your breath away.

You wish he would touch you, you wish he would do more-- but you feel it, Joel is like he is always holding back with you. Maybe it's you who has to help him.

You take his hand and bring it to your breast, you know you will drive him crazy. Indeed, his breathing becomes shorter and you find yourself smiling into the kiss. Glad to have provoked a reaction in him.

“Little girl…” he says to your lips, his tone of voice should be a sort of a warning or do you imagine that's what he means using that tone, but you deliberately ignore his tone and instead you look him in the eyes for a long time before saying, “Will you teach me to make you feel as good as you did with me?”

His eyes become if possible even darker, “No.” he answers you dryly “Not yet. You're not ready.” he adds, swallowing.

“You're afraid.” you say moving away from him, he turns supine “You're afraid to cross the line with me, aren't you?” you insist, he looks at you “Well, we've already crossed it. I touch myself because of you, if I have to say it!” you add feeling the heat on your cheeks "You make me feel so good, why can't I do it with you too?" he doesn't answer you, he looks at the ceiling.

You also turn in a supine position, you look away. You don't say anything, you don't know what to say. If he doesn't want to, you cannot make him.

“You don't trust me.” you say after what to you seems like hours of silence, you turn completely away “All right.” you add feeling a knot in your throat, you first feel him move to the other side of the bed then you feel a hand caressing your side and finally you feel a strand of hair move and a kiss behind your ear. You shiver, wanting to hold the point, but you already know you won't last much longer, not with him kissing that sensitive portion of your skin and then moving down to kiss along your neck.

More shivers run down your spine as his unshaven beard brushes against your neck, you turn toward him finding yourself lost in a kiss again. He almost pulls you toward him, you groan from surprise and also from the arousal that is spreading inside you and spreads even more as he towers over you completely. He breaks the kiss and you find your eyes meeting. His hot breath breaks against you and you find yourself closing your eyes.

Like other times, anything could happen out there, but if you are with him you really don't care.

He places a kiss on the tip of your nose and you smile. You smile again.

“D' you wanna try somethin' new?” he asks.

You open your eyes nodding.

He sits in the middle of the bed, you also make to sit, but he shakes his head saying, “Stay down and lemme do it. Honey, if you feel uncomfortable, if you have any pain, stop me right now, okay?”

“What is this about?” you ask him leaning on your forearms.

He looks at you, “I want to touch that your tight little hole with my fingers.”

You flush more at his dirty tone of voice than at what he said, “Haven't you already done that?” you ask him uncertainly.

“Not exactly.” you look at him questioningly “I've only touched a small part of you, I'd like to go deeper.” you swallow “If you don't wanna to-”

“No, no!” you quickly interrupt him “All right. What should I do?” you ask him.

He leans toward you caging you in his arms, he lays a quick kiss on your lips and then returns to sit in the middle of the bed, “Can I take 'em off?”

You nod as he lays his hands on the elastic of your shorts, looks you once more in the eyes as if seeking your consent once more, consent which comes immediately by just raising your pelvis allowing him to remove your shorts and briefs in one move, remaining completely naked from the waist down.

It's not the first time he touches you, but this time you are completely exposed to his sight and it sends more discharges of arousal all along your body especially noticing his equally lust-filled gaze.

He pounces on your lips almost sucking your lips and tongue together, you groan in surprise at that kiss so different from the others, “You are beautiful.” you tell him through your lips feeling him smile and looking into your eyes. He grazes your nose with the tip of his nose, “You are perfect, baby.” he comments leaving a trail of moist kisses along the line of your jaw and then down your neck. You drop your head back, blissfully surrendering to his lips and then to his hands gently resting on your breasts, moaning softly as you close your eyes.

“Are you aroused yet?” he asks you.

You nod, “Yes.”

“Lemme see.” he says and then caresses with his left hand your thigh, then your inner thigh and finally there, your intimacy, you squeeze your eyes shut, he hasn't touched you yet and you already feel those familiar tremors inside you.

“You're already soaked.” he says, you open your eyes and look at him questioningly, “Is that wrong?” you ask him puzzled.

“Absolutely not.” he replies running a finger along your intimacy causing you to hold your breath “It means you're already ready.” he explains repeating the same motion back and forth, you find yourself biting your lower lip and clenching your toes feeling an ever-increasing heat spreading to your lower abdomen.

“R - ready for what?” you ask tremblingly, but curious.

“For me.” he answers you with lust-filled eyes as he continues that precise, slow movement “Relax, don't be afraid.” he tells you noticing your tense expression.

“I am not afraid.” you reply looking into his eyes, and it's true you know that whatever he will do, it won't hurt you. You know that you are safe with him and that you would do anything with him.

“Now I'm going to insert my finger inside your cunt,” you swallow “I'm going to do it very slowly, if you have pain or feel uncomfortable, tell me and I'll stop.” he says scrutinizing your face carefully, his gaze tense, focused, full of desire. You nod barely trembling with desire.

Slowly he slides inside you first just the calloused fingertip as you almost jerk to feel part of his finger inside your taut and tender flesh, you tremble with desire, a boiling desire that reverberates in every cell of your body; he stays like this for a while then slides the phalanx inside you, you drop your head on the pillow feeling you are in a world out of the ordinary, you find yourself spreading your lips wide as if searching for oxygen, moaning softly.

“Jus' a lil more.” he warns you before inserting the phalanx inside you. You clench the blankets in the fist of your hands and moan softly, “You're so excited, my baby.” you feel him kiss you on the lips, but you can't kiss him back, you're seeing stars behind your eyelids, it's indescribable.

Then, he sinks inside you again and you open your eyes suddenly, you look down and seeing his finger fully sinked inside you is an even more arousing sensation, feeling his long, thick finger reach such intimate parts of you makes you wet even more “How's it goin'?” he asks you.

Your vision is almost blurred, you are at a loss for words, you just nod. He leans over to you and kisses you gently on the lips, slowly lets his finger out inside you and this hollow feeling makes you moan into his mouth, then slowly slips his finger back into you making you moan again. He repeats this movement with a slow rhythm that makes the desire inside you grow faster and faster. You moan surrendering to the pleasure he is giving you with that relentless rhythm of his, lips parted and completely exposed to him. Then, with a confident movement, Joel also touches your throbbing center sending you more discharges of pure lust, you no longer know what to focus on, whether on his finger touching hitherto unexplored areas of you or on the palm of his hand caressing your clit. Hearing you moan against him makes him instinctively close his eyes and breathe deeply, he feels the contractions of your next climax squeeze his finger and the lust spreads strong inside him, he would have liked to make you cum in his mouth or around his cock, but he still has to restrain himself.

Your climax explodes violently causing you to gasp and clench the blankets even more tightly in your fist. The room suddenly becomes silent. There is only your shortness of breath.

“How d' ya feel?” he asks after a couple of minutes of silence, giving you a cloud-light kiss on your neck as the waves of climax slowly leave you.

“Fine.” you reply, still nodding with your eyes closed.

He slowly kisses your forehead, then your cheek and finally your lips. You open your eyes and exchange a sweet smile.

“Would you like some breakfast?” you ask him after a while.

“Pancakes?” he offers.

You smile, “That'd be perfect.”

You slip back into your briefs and shorts and go downstairs to make breakfast. You found out one more thing about him: Joel is a disaster in the kitchen, first he forgot to add milk to the mixture, then he dropped an egg on the floor in short you did nothing but laugh during this rocambolic breakfast preparation. You manage after almost an hour to sit at his kitchen worktop eating your pancakes, you add some honey, raspberries and blueberries. You eat in silence, only exchanging long glances, then after you bite into the last piece, you tell him, “I've been thinking about the title of my story.”

He nods chewing, “And that is?”

“Bittersweet.” you reply, smiling at him.

You see him swallow, “What's it about?” he asks you.

“It's the story of a young woman and her music teacher, a man who is apparently an asshole, actually very sweet and who will help his student to become more and more confident,” you tell him in outline, turning to face him.

He smiles conspiratorially, “That reminds me of somethin'.”

“Huh, yeah!” you exclaim, returning that look and his smile.

“D' you wanna start writing now?” he asks you.

“Do you mind?” you ask him.

He turns to you, then gently taking your chin between his fingers he says, “If you ask me with these sweet eyes, I can't say no.” you lower your gaze for a moment, “Well, I'll take the opportunity to take a shower and then put up a couple of shelves in the living room. You set up wherever you like, here, in the study above, in the bedroom, wherever you like.”

What did you do to deserve such a man?

“Do you mind if I sit on the couch in the living room?” you ask him, this is his house and it seems more than fair to ask his permission before moving anywhere you want.

He leans toward you giving you a sweet kiss on the lips, “Wherever you want.” you smile, then lays his forehead against yours and takes his leave. He sees you turn on the computer, cross your legs and lay the laptop on your lap. He sees you open the program to write, Joel has never understood much about computers and stuff like that, he has always been an analog guy, always loved manual work.

Joel goes into his bedroom and lies down on the bed, feeling alive. He is feeling good for the first time in a long time, living the little moments of everyday life with you makes him feel good, alive and special. He didn't believe that someone like him after all he has experienced could again hold someone in his arms who makes him feel welcomed, loved, who tries to make him feel good, it is a wonderful feeling.

He breath deeply, the scent of you is still strong in his room. Joel was about to give in earlier when you had asked him to pleasure him, was about to say okay, but that wouldn't have been right. Joel becomes more and more aware that yours is not just a physical attraction, yes of course there is that too. Yet when you are apart he cannot help but think of your scent, your eyes, your smile, your sweetness, your need to be welcomed, cuddled, loved.

He feels his cock throbbing at the thought of your narrowed eyes and wide-open mouth, as he was pleasuring you with his fingers for the first time, the memory of you so tight and wet causes him another jolt. He undresses completely and goes to the shower, he opens the water jet and finds himself thinking that he would love to have you here with him, he imagines what he would do if you were there together. He'd press you against the shower wall and you'd look at him with those wide eyes of yours in surprise, he'd kiss your neck and you'd close your eyes, he'd press himself against you and kiss every inch of your body, he'd feel you tense up and beg for more. How he would love to have and give more! He wraps his taut erection in his fist, the roar of the water covers his moans, his heavy breathing, the image of you clinging to him, your arms encircling his neck, he imagines you giving him pleasure. He grits his teeth to disguise the long moan that comes out of his mouth as streams of his hot seed fall partly into his fist and partly against the shower wall.

“Fuck…” he says, resting his forehead against the shower wall.

He washes himself thoroughly, then gets out of the shower. He dries off, puts on old jeans and a black T-shirt he usually uses to do chores around the house, and comes downstairs. He sees you drinking a glass of water in the kitchen, he reaches you out and he wraps his arms around you, and you smile sweetly at him, “How's the writing of your masterpiece goin'?” he asks.

“Don't tease me now,” you reply to him, setting the glass down in the sink.

“I'm not teasing you.” he says giving you a kiss under your ear “If 's something of yours, it's certainly unique. Beautiful. To me, a masterpiece.” you turn to him finding eyes in each other's eyes, he places a kiss on the tip of your nose, you chuckle "I hope everyone gets it, that you can work up the courage to sign up for some classes and they'll notice you, that they can read you sooner or later." he confides.

“Then I wouldn't be here with you anymore,” you say in a huff that makes the two of you feel sick.

Joel lays his hands on your forearms, he strokes you gently, then slides his hands behind your back, “I don't wanna you to be confined here. In this small town. You deserve places like Seattle, Los Angeles, New York, or even Europe. You deserve the world. I wish you could see all the wonders there are,” he tells you.

“You are all the wonder I want in my life,” you tell him.

“Oh, baby.” he says holding you in his arms and placing kisses on your cheek and forehead “You're so sweet, so…” he dips his nose into your hair and you close your eyes, you don't care what he wanted to add, the important thing is what you told him. At the moment you like to write, but you don't want to get away from him, you couldn't stand a world where he is not there. For you it would be intolerable.

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