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#but I’m trying so hard to make + save as much money as I can
pensat-i-fet · 2 days
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His very own real princess (Pedri x Reader)
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**I'm back with another imagine! This one was requested many moons ago and the anon who sent it might have forgotten about it so sorry 😕 but I got the inspiration for it and so I wanted to share it! I'm not so used to writing short format anymore so I feel everything could be a series. Let me know if you'd like this concept to be one! ☺️ And enjoy! ❤️**
Word count: 3675
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Being famous was not as great as people made it up to be. For Pedri, it meant leaving the house was too much sometimes. He had to deal with people following him and even getting in front of his car just to get his attention. He was asked to sign autographs and to take photos every couple of minutes. While he loved his fans, it could be a bit much. Especially when he could tell they were filming him so they could post the video on TikTok for a couple hundred likes. So, one day, he tried to avoid those people by going to a park. He could probably lose them there. There were so many trees and dogs that made it harder to move quickly around the area.
For you, it had been a bit different. Growing up your family wanted to keep you a secret almost. For security reasons…or so they said. So, naturally, you wanted to rebel against them and do the complete opposite. Still, it wasn’t until you turned 18 that you started to show up at official events. And now you were 20, you realised maybe your parents had been right all along. But you weren’t going to tell them that. Of course. So while some paparazzi were chasing you, you spotted a park and thought you could hide there for a bit. Maybe even call your chauffeur so he could pick you up and save you from the vultures.
“Oh! Sorry”.
Pedri turned to look at the girl who was apologising to him. You had bumped into each other and he hit you in the head with his shoulder without meaning to. He hadn’t even seen you there.
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. Are you alright?”
And then, it happened. You looked up to see his face and you couldn’t believe who it was that you were talking to.
“Oh my God…oh my God”, was all you could say.
“I take it you know who I am”.
“Yeah, who doesn’t?”
Pedri chuckled. “I guess there are some lucky folks out there who don’t. But really, are you ok?”
“Yes, it’s fine. Just more shocked to see you here than anything else”.
Pedri smiled at you and you were trying hard not to swoon. Being hidden from the public eye meant you hadn’t been around a lot of famous people before. Your second cousins were way more used to this and always told you famous people were just normal people. To them…not to you. To you, famous people were…fascinating.
“I was planning on hiding here for a bit”, you said.
“Me too, but I don’t want to ruin your plan so I could leave…”.
Pedri started to look around, getting ready to leave so you stopped him. “You don't know who I am so that makes you good company. Perfect company actually. So you can stay. Also, you got here first”.
“Should I know who you are?”
“I guess not”, you shrugged. Not everyone followed your family. Thankfully.
“Are you a singer?
“Babies cry when I sing”.
“Actress?”
“Nope”.
“Influencer”.
“I only influence how much money there is left in my dad's bank account”.
You thought it was really cute how he concentrated, trying to guess. “Then…a model?”
“No, but I appreciate the compliment”.
“What compliment?”
“If you think I could be a model, then you think I'm pretty”.
“Well”, he started. “I like to invite pretty girls to eat or have a drink so…which one is it going to be?”
“There is an ice cream ban there…if you dare approach it”.
It made you laugh how Pedri looked around the area, making sure no one who could know him was there and then he turned to look at you again.
“What flavour?”
“One ball of coffee and one of vanilla, please”.
“Sounds sophisticated”.
“I guess you’re getting closer to my identity”, you laughed.
“What are you? A princess?”
“Nah, the princesses are my cousins”.
Pedri laughed before going to the ban to get the ice cream. The funny thing about being part of the Royal family was that it was so weird that many thought you were joking when you said that. But you weren’t. Not many people knew your parents but they still were part of the family so…they got attention. And now, you got the attention too.
“Here is your ice cream, your Majesty”.
“Thank you, Golden boy”, you joked back.
“Does that make me royalty too?”
“I guess. Football royalty so less hated than real royalty”. “Less hated? You clearly aren’t on Twitter”.
No, you weren’t. No amount of therapy would heal you after reading what people wrote about you or your family there.
Sitting down on the grass and eating an ice cream while chatting with Pedri was something that healed your mood. It was so nice to be with someone who didn’t know who you were but that also understood how you felt. Even if he didn’t know it yet.
“There are a lot of kids and parents around now. I feel no one will even look at us while we leave”.
You looked around and agreed with his assessment. “Ok, where should we go?”
“I don’t know. Wanna go walk near the beach? It’s usually where I end up when I go out. It’s not often I do but it’s nice to go there”.
“I like the beach”.
“Where are you from?”
“Well…it’s a funny question that one”, you sighed.
“How so?” “I was born in The Netherlands, then lived in Madrid for a bit, went to school in Switzerland and Wales and now I’m back in Spain. I go to different cities all the time. I like travelling”.
“Wow, that’s a lot. Was it a boarding school you went to?”
“Yeah”.
“Maybe you are a princess after all”.
You giggled and looked down to hide your blush. Yes, your life sounded very much like that of a princess. Even if about 40 family members needed to die for you to become one for real.
“I love this”, you said, looking around and feeling so…normal.
“Yeah? That’s good”.
Pedri smiled at you and you realised maybe it wasn’t so normal what was going on. Sure, you were on a walk like a normal person but you were walking with a very famous footballer. That didn’t happen every day. At least not to you.
“And I see pizza there. Do you want a slice?”
“I probably shouldn’t…”.
“But Pedri! Today everything is possible! You’re not a football player but just Pedro from Tenerife. And I’m not a princess”.
“What are you then?”, he asked, smirking.
“I’m just a girl standing in front of a boy…asking him to get some pizza”.
The excitement of the crazy afternoon made you lose a bit of the control you usually had and you grabbed Pedri’s arm to take him to the pizza ban. It wasn’t like holding hands but…once the physical contact started, you were both very aware of it. But pretended it was all normal.
After buying the pizza slices, you didn’t wait a second to start eating. You were so hungry and it wasn’t often you got to eat greasy pizza with your hands.
“That burns!”, you complained, opening your mouth and using your hand as a fan.
“Maybe wait a little to eat”.
“I was hungry”, you pouted and that made Pedri stare at your lips.
“You got some sauce on your mouth”.
“I think I have a mirror on my bag…”.
But before you had time to find it, Pedri used one of his napkins to clean your face. When you looked up at him, you noticed he seemed to have done that without even realising.
“Sorry”.
“No, don’t be. Thank you for not letting me look dirty while we walked”.
“Princesses have to always look perfect”.
“Exactly”, you told him, laughing.
But good things had to come to an end and soon Pedri started to notice people looking at him. That meant it was time to go home.
“I’m sorry. It just…that’s my life”.
“I get it”, you told him, wanting to explain to him how much you actually got it. “It was fun to spend some time with you though”.
“Would you like to do it again?”
“I would. But maybe somewhere more private”.
“Do you have Instagram? So you can follow me and we can talk about meeting”.
That made you pause. You had an official account controlled by people hired by your family but also a private one. So maybe you could use that one to follow him.
“Yeah. I’ll follow you later and send you a message”.
“Cool. See you…soon?”
You nodded, not knowing what to do. Should you hug him? But then all the people ready to surround him showed you that no, a hug wouldn’t be a good idea. So you said goodbye and left.
Pedri was entering the dressing room a couple of days after you met, not really looking at his teammates but at his phone. You two had been texting ever since you separated. And he was constantly checking to see if you had sent him a new message.
“Hello, your Majesty”, said one of Pedri’s teammates and it took him a second to notice he was looking at him.
“Sorry?”
“I just said hi to your Majesty. Would you like us to find a throne for you to sit on?”
“What are you on about?”
“Haven't seen the cover of the magazine yet?”, asked Frenkie.
“I haven't done any covers lately…”.
“The gossip magazine”, pointed out Lamine. “It’s all everyone is talking about”.
“I don’t get it. I haven’t done anything to be in one of those magazines”.
“How about going out with a pretty girl the other day? Paparazzi are everywhere. You should know that by now”.
So people had seen him when he was hanging out with you. Great. You didn’t seem like someone who’d enjoy the attention. But why make such a big deal out of him being seen with someone unknown?
“You also chose the wrong girl to date”.
“I’m not dating her but she's just a normal girl…”.
“Who's related to the Royal family. And here we were worrying about Gavi being the one who could become king”.
“I would have made a great king”, said Gavi, raising his chin proudly.
“You would have made a terrible king”, told him Fermín, shaking his head.
“What do you mean Royal family?”
Pedri was about to start freaking out. You joked about being a princess but…was it not a joke? What? He knew the princesses! Leonor, Sofía, Victoria, …none of them were you. So what the heck was going on?
“She’s like a second or third cousin of the real princesses but the media has been trying to find out everything about her in the last few years”, explained Pau.
“How do you know so much about that?”
“My mum loves the Royals. I live with her and she talks about it”, shrugged the youngster.
The jokes continued but Pedri didn’t care. He just kept thinking about how you had lied to him. And he got it in a way. It couldn’t be easy to be in your position but…you had spent two days talking to each other about a lot of personal stuff. Didn’t you trust him enough to tell him the truth?
When he finished training and picked up his phone again, he saw a text from you saying “I’m sorry”. A part of him wanted to ignore it but you didn’t deserve that kind of treatment despite your lies. So he asked you to meet instead. But you were in Madrid for a couple of days so it’d have to wait. You apologized multiple times and Pedri told you it was ok but…you weren’t so sure.
“What’s wrong?”, asked your cousin Sofía, who was a real princess.
“You saw the magazines, right?”
“Yes. Wanna talk about it?”
“I…we bumped into each other randomly and it was so good to meet someone who didn’t know who I was. You get it, Sof. If someone gets it, it’ll be you”.
“I do. Is he mad at you for lying?”
“Not really”, you said, frowning. “I expected him to be but he seems to understand why I lied. He also gets it”.
“I bet he does. So, what are you going to do?”
“We’ll meet when I get back to Barcelona in a few days”.
Sofía laughed looking at you. “That smile…someone is smitten!”
“How could I not be? Have you seen him? And he’s super nice too, not just handsome. But I fear I’ve ruined it”.
“Don’t be so negative. Let’s just get ready for the match and forget about your Barça boy for a couple of hours”.
It wasn’t a secret that the king of Spain supported Atlético de Madrid and a lot of people suspected his daughter Sofía did as well. However, it was very hard for her to attend matches without people noticing but she had become a bit of a pro at it. And now she was taking you to the match too.
The match was fun and Atleti won so Sofía was very happy. And you didn’t get spotted by anyone…or so you thought.
“Pepi!”, called Ferran when Pedri was entering the dressing room in the morning.
“What?”
“Your princess is a traitor, she doesn't even support you”.
“What are you talking about?”
“She was at the Atleti match yesterday with Princess Sofía. But I bet you can turn her into a Barça fan”.
Ferran’s wink didn’t stop Pedri from feeling so weird about this whole situation. Or more like jealous. What if you had your eye on an Atleti player?
But he could only stare at the photos in the article. After your meeting, he had only the memory of how you looked that day. Your private Instagram only had a handful of photos and a few were of your dogs. The official Instagram only had a few official photos and…even though that was you too, it wasn’t the you Pedri knew. The girl in the photos from the Atleti match was you. Laughing with your cousin and looking so happy.
The article…he didn’t like as much. After the photos of what the press called “a date” were published, they just assumed you were seeing Pedri. So what were you doing watching a rival team? It wasn’t as if you went to see a Real Madrid match, God forbid. But still…shouldn’t you be supporting “your boyfriend”?
“Hi”.
A few days later, you were back in Barcelona and Pedri invited you to have lunch with him. Finding a place where no one would see you was hard, but your family knew a few tricks to achieve that.
“Hey. It’s good to see you again”.
This time, you did hug as a greeting. Even if you had spoken only via texts, it still felt like you knew each other so well now. So a hug seemed like the right thing to do.
“I’m sorry about everything that happened. I just…I don’t know, Pedri. Being with you made me forget who I was for a second and I didn’t think about how this could affect you”.
“It’s ok. You know I get it. It’s the same for me. My every move is overanalysed. Though I guess being a princess is a bit more important”.
“Not this again”, you shook your head, laughing. “I’m not a princess. I’m a nobody, really. But the press was waiting for a moment like this. A scandal or whatever”.
“Eating pizza in public is very scandalous. I don’t know how your reputation will recover”.
You laughed at Pedri’s joke but also remembered what you had been told. “It’s not so much what I did but who I did it with”.
“Oh…ok”.
When the photos were published, your parents talked to you about all the reasons why you should stay away from Pedri. Before you even had time to say nothing was going on…at least not yet.
“It’s stupid. I told you I’m a nobody. But family connections dictate this or that…I don’t want to date a politician or another royal just because it’s what I’m supposed to do. I don’t have it as bad as my cousins. You know, the real princesses. But still…it’s boring. I want to be able to make my own decisions”.
“You don’t want to date a politician…but would you like to date me?”
Being so annoyed with your family and their restrictions, you didn’t realise Pedri wasn’t stupid and could easily read between the lines.
“You’re better than a politician so…”.
“Look”, said Pedri, grabbing your hand to hold it. “No relationship was going to be easy for me. I knew that. So…this doesn’t scare me”.
“Really? I was actually worried it would”.
“I could see it in your face”.
“Can you read minds now? Is that how you know where to shoot the ball?”
“No, that’s because I’m a generational talent”, joked Pedri, making you laugh. “But I mean it. I’m not scared. Are you?”
“Not as much as I probably should”.
“But…are you an Atleti fan? These are the important conversations we need to have before trying to date”.
“That’s my cousin. I don’t really have a team. So I might let you convince me to become a Barça fan. I already support Spain so…”.
“Even against The Netherlands?”, he asked. Your mum was Dutch so it was a fair question.
“Only if you play for Spain that day”.
And so you both forgot about what people would say, what people would demand from each of you and started to date. There was no need to hide since there were photos of your first date online already. Even if back then you didn’t want to admit it was a date.
Being together compensated for any comments or insults…but Pedri was starting to get a bit tired of his teammates curtsying in front of him and calling him Majesty. They did it with you too, which only made you laugh.
“I told you, guys. I’m not a princess”.
“No. Not officially”, told you Pedri. “But you are my very own princess. My queen even”.
Your blush made everyone laughed. It was so obvious to everyone how in love you both were.
However, the media was going to try to find anything that could make it sound like your lovely love story wasn’t so lovely.
Something your family always had to do was attend charity events. It was probably one of the few things you liked doing, since many of those events raised money for great causes. So when you were invited to one to raise money for cancer research, you said yes immediately. It being organised by the Atlético de Madrid foundation didn’t matter to you. But for the press…it was a different story.
“Hi, it’s nice meeting you”.
You turned to see it was Álvaro Morata, the player who presided the event, saying hello to you.
“Thank you, it’s nice meeting you too”.
“I heard about you and Pedri…sorry if it’s too informal of me to say this”. “It’s ok, don’t worry”.
“So…you two are really together?”
“Yes”, you said, blushing.
“Good. He’s a good guy. I’ll see you around the Spain matches then”.
“You will”.
Other players were there too and you were introduced to all of them. Mario Hermoso, Marcos Llorente, …they were all very nice to you. But it was a younger player you had to sit next to at your table. One that you hadn’t met before but that introduced himself as Rodrigo Riquelme. However, that wasn’t what his teammates called him.
“Should I call you Rodrigo or Roro?”
“I feel I can’t ask someone of your station to call me such a nickname”.
You laughed seeing the Atleti player blushing. “I don’t mind. I’m not really that important”.
“You are the most important person here”.
“Depends on who you asked”, you shrugged.
It was lovely having someone young to chat with at such an event. You were usually surrounded by old politicians and entrepreneurs who bored you to death with their conversations. So you had a great time…Pedri didn’t have as much fun seeing all the posts on social media talking about how his girlfriend was being too friendly with another player.
He knew it was stupid. You were just chatting with Riquelme. Pedri knew you now and realised that was how you talked to his friends too. That was how you talked to Ferran, for example. It was nothing like how you talked to Pedri.
But still…it wasn’t nice to see so many people doubting your relationship. And, what was worse, insulting you.
“You look unhappy”, you said when you met him again in Barcelona. “Is it because of the articles? Nothing happened with Riquelme. I swear”.
“I know”, he sighed, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your forehead. “I just hate how people will try to find any excuse to try and hurt us”.
“We knew it was going to happen…”.
“It’s not nice anyway”.
“But we’re fine?”, you asked, worried.
“We’re fine. I missed you a lot”.
“I know. I missed you too”.
Knowing Pedri trusted you was so important and you felt you needed to prove you were worth that trust. So, even though you knew you were likely to get in trouble, you forgot about protocol and attended his match wearing his shirt.
It wasn’t even the most important match but when it ended, you went as close to the pitch as you could and called Pedri so he could go meet you. Every one of his teammates that walked past curtsied and called you two “your Majesties”. But you didn’t care. You looked around, noticing the cameras were all pointed at you, and kissed Pedri.
“Making sure everyone knows you’re just my princess?”, he whispered.
“Yes. And while we’re at it, everyone can also learn you’re my prince”.
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*sigh*
#trying really v hard not to feel frustrated right now#and attempting to keep in mind that there are probably lots of details and surrounding bits of info that I’m not aware of#but I’m trying so hard to make + save as much money as I can#so I can go to college next fall#and I’ve /told/ my boss that I Really Need To Work. I asked him to please schedule me as much as possible during the holidays.#and then this week apparently we got approved for overtime and? no one told me?#and I’m going to finish out the week with only about 37 hrs worked#and then several of my coworkers are talking about how they’re going to various other stores to help them do projects#and I *know* they get paid really well for that#and not once has anyone even mentioned anything about me getting an assignment like that#like they’ve not even considered that I might also like to be sent to another store to help out and make extra money#*sigh*#I just wish I didn’t always feel invisible. I’m trying so hard over here and my coworkers seem to genuinely like me and my bosses have#never had to get onto me in any way that matters. I think I’ve been late like… less than 5 times in the past year??#I’ve called out exactly twice (once bc I had literal COVID and once bc I had something that felt just like COVID)#I’m always trying so hard and it feels like it still never pays off :/#ok. time to stop complaining. time to go back to work. if anyone wants to say a prayer that I’ll have a good attitude and not spiral into#obsessive comparison… that might be helpful :)#personal#delete later#mobile
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mcnuggyy · 2 years
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mann I hate knowing I COULD get work at a studio MAYBE if I worked hard enough but knowing that even people who have been in the industry for so long and shit still struggle with jobs like idk if I want to do this anymore, like I always tell myself well you’ve already worked for the mouse you can get a job anywhere you just need to work on your portfolio more and do more networking, but man… do I really want an industry job anymore? Everyone I know that works in it is either burnt out as hell, miserable, or can’t even survive off the money they’re making regardless so like… idk… I know I say all of this like every few months but I still can’t fucking make up my mind, like honestly right now I’m chilling even though I have 3 jobs and money is tight.. I’m happy? I don’t wanna settle sure but like man, idk I’m pretty okay right now mentally and idk if a 9-5 studio job where more often than not I’ll be underpayed and doing overtime is really something I want… NOT to mention how expendable we are apparently so even when things are concrete they’re not… idk man, still so much to think about 😞
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shaguro · 17 days
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synposis: the story of how you met your sugar-daddy, nanami, at the cafe you work at. ♡ (the prequel to this drabble!)
ੈ✩‧₊˚ tags: sugar daddy nanami! (college student/barista reader x coo nanami), reader is fem, age gap (nanami is 30, reader is 24.), ceo gojo cameo at the start, flirty nd playful banter btwn reader nd nanami, anna is reader's coworker nd friend. nanami calls reader sweetheart once, nanami is just smitten with her as soon as he sees her. sweet fluff! as a whole, this is very light-hearted and unserious y'all. — w.c: 2.2k. ♡
angel's note: consider this my official comeback from my hiatus! thank you so much @preciousamethyst for beta-reading, love you downn. ♡
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“you’re telling me out of the five blind-dates that i set up . . . you didn’t like any of them? not even a little bit?” satoru asks incredulously, the french-vanilla latte in his hand almost spilling on the table as he leans forward. “you’re too damn picky, nanamin! they all seemed like nice, respectable ladies to me.”
nanami sighs, looking up from his laptop with an annoyed expression on his face. “the last one didn’t have any teeth . . . and can you keep it down? i’m trying to focus and you’re making a scene, as usual.”
“oh, heh. my bad.”
nanami’s eyes linger on the white-haired man for a moment before focusing on the screen in front of him again. he’s not sure why satoru tagged along to this new cafe with him on his lunch break. (when he clearly stopped visiting his favorite one to avoid him.) it’s not like nanami could say no, anyway — satoru is his boss. his annoying and extremely invasive boss who always finds a way to be in his way and in his business.
it goes without saying that his dating life is certainly not off-limits.
unwrapping the chocolate eclair he just bought, satoru takes a bite of the puffy pastry, humming once the sugary goodness hits his tastebuds. “you were right, nanamin. this does taste amazing.“ he pauses between his words to lick chocolate off his bottom lip, then off his fingers. “maybe we need to try a different approach . . . dating apps! ever tried tinder or bumble—“
“no.” nanami slams his laptop closed, shooting all satoru’s incoming questions down. “i don’t need your help. let’s try ‘letting things happen naturally and staying out of my business’ for a change, yeah?”
“but i have everything planned out! it’ll take me two seconds to make your profile and i have the perfect bio for you — thirty year old trick looking for a pretty woman to spend all my money on — how’s that sound?”
“terrible.” nanami deadpans, placing his laptop into his briefcase. he lifts the sleeve of his shirt, checking the time on his breitling navitimer before standing from his seat. “you have fun with that. i’m getting my pastry to go, i’ll see you back at the office.”
satoru’s jaw is on the floor. “but, nanami—“
without another word, nanami leaves a whining gojo to make his way towards the line that was, thankfully, empty. the baristas don’t notice him, backs turned while they talk to each other by the back counter and nanami doesn’t mind — it gives him more time to decide on what pastry he wants anyway.
truly, he doesn’t understand the obsession surrounding his love life. while nanami is looking, he is by no means desperate. even he knew it was a bad idea to present yourself as a sugar daddy on a dating app, unless you’re an idiot or just lacking a single ounce of dignity.
both categories that satoru fits into, nanami thinks. 
kneeling slightly for a better view at the assorted desserts behind the crystalline-glass case, nanami’s unsure of which one to choose. this cafè’s selection is extensive, they offer much more than what he’s used to; tarts, cakes and pastries that he’s never even seen before. ultimately, he opts to keep it simple with one of his favorites: a fluffy cinnamon roll with extra vanilla glaze.
“girl, i’ve been working real hard and i still don’t have enough saved to pay tuition.” you murmur, scooping a handful of coffee grounds into the filter and shaking the brew funnel to level them. “i’m stressed out.”
nanami’s eyes flicker to where the two of you stand. while he’s never considered himself to be a nosy man, he finds his focus shifting from his lunch to the conversation you’re having, ears perked in interest as he continues to weigh his other options.
your co-worker, anna, gives you a reassuring pat on the back, her face itched downward in concern. “yeah, you were telling me about that last week . . . how much more do you need?”
“around like five-hundred more.” you sigh, brushing your hands off on your apron. anna starts to speak but you stop her with a raise of your palm, already knowing what she’s thinking. “and yes, i’ve taken out loans already. my loans have loans at this point.”
anna raises her brows. “so what are you going to do?”
“i’m out of options.” you shrug, adjusting the valves on the coffee machine to their correct settings. with a heavy sigh, you lean your head on her shoulder with a pout on your glossed lips, “it’s either i start an onlyfans or god sends me a rich old man that wants to be my sugar-daddy.”
anna giggles and playfully swats your arm. even in a serious moment like this, you find a way to lighten the mood. she plays along, tapping her chin with her index finger, “hmm, that can work! maybe you can start stripping. you watched the tiktoks i sent you, right? they touch thousands on a good night.”
“oh my god, i didn’t even think of that!” you stand straight and cup your hands on your breasts through your shirt, poking your ass out a bit. “i might need a boob job and bbl if i wanna be serious about it, though . . . plus, isn’t twenty-four a little too old to start stripping?”
“girl, please. twenty-four isn’t old and you know that. you have a nice body and you’re pretty. they’ll throw stacks just based off that, trust me —”
that whole sugar-daddy thing that satoru was suggesting doesn’t sound half as bad to nanami, right now. you get the money you need and he gets to spend time with you, it’s a win-win.
“she’s right,” nanami agrees, unable to hold back the chuckle that leaves his mouth when the both of you literally jump at the sound of his voice, whipping your bodies around to see just who that deep, smooth timbre belonged to. “you’re very pretty miss . . .” his brown eyes shift down to your name-tag. “ . . . ( name ).”
you blink once, twice — lips slightly parted, heat slowly rising to your face once his sweet compliment slowly registers in your brain and how your name flowed so easily off his tongue. just looking at this man, you can tell that he has money. he’s handsome, even more so as your eyes shift from his chiseled face down to his body. nanami stands tall, he must be around six feet. sporting a white dress-shirt and navy-blue slacks that match his tie, nanami is built. the soft cotton of his shirt clings to his biceps, outlining each vein and curve. the very top of his shirt is unbuttoned, exposing a sliver of his toned chest underneath.
there is no way god answered your prayers this quickly.
in a trance, you stare at nanami like a deer in headlights, completely enamored until anna nudges your arm, snapping you back to reality. she whispers a curt ‘you better talk to that man, girl’ in your ear and that’s you realize that you didn’t even thank him yet, how rude. 
“o-oh, thank you.” you move towards the register, giving nanami a sheepish smile whilst drumming your french-tip acrylics against the granite counter. “so um . . how much of that did you hear?”
“hmm . . . most of it.”
“the onlyfans part too?”
nanami nods with a grin. “and the old rich sugar daddy part.”
you cover your face with your hand, letting out a long sigh. this is just your luck, embarrassing yourself in front of this extremely sexy stranger. “let’s just . . . pretend that didn’t happen.” you’re certain that you were definitely not getting his number after this. “what can i get you, mr . . .?”
“kento.” nanami answers, leaning a tad bit closer and you have to crane your neck slightly to look at him, that grin still on his plump lips. “but you can call me ken.”
“oh?” you catch the cheeky switch in his tone, the teasing glint in those pretty pools of brown. he’s flirting with you and why not return the same energy? you’re interested in him, too. biting back a smile of your own, you hold his gaze, staring up at him through your wispy extensions. “ok, ken, what can i get you?”
“two of those cinnamon rolls, please.” nanami answers, pointing towards the case he’d been looking at prior.
you nod and grab a set of tongs, opening the glass to place the rolls into a small plastic bag, then into a paper bag on the counter. “just that, nothing else?”
pondering on the question, nanami’s debating the risk of what he’s about to say. it’s obvious that you’re attracted to him but this was a whole different ballgame, asking you to be his sugar baby? — really, the worst that could happen is you rejecting him and as much as he doesn’t want that, he’d just have to accept it. nanami inhales a deep breath once he gathers his thoughts. here goes nothing. 
“well, there is something that i have. it’s a proposition of sorts for you.”
you look up from the register, one of your brows raised. “and what would that be?”
“allow me to take you out a few times a week, whenever you have the time . . . and i’ll pay your tuition.” nanami pauses and shakes his head, combing some of his blonde locks back with his fingers. “no, i’ll pay all your bills. as long as i get to see you, i’ll give you anything that you want.”
you tilt your head to the left and raise your brows. “you want to be my sugar daddy?”
nanami nods, chuckling at the look of sheer disbelief on your face on your face. “i’m missing the old part so i’m not exactly sure if i qualify . . . but yes, i do.”
you scoff at that. “. . . and you just want to see me, take me on dates, no sex?” did he think you were that naive? if there’s one thing you know for certain, it’s that nothing in this world is free —  everything has a price and in this case, your pussy would be the desired currency. you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “i don’t believe that. what’s the catch?”
nanami supposes you aren’t wrong for thinking this way. it does sound far-fetched, especially from a stranger you met not even an hour ago. he wasn’t a liar or a perv, and he’d just have to make you see how serious he is. “there is no catch. i think you’re beautiful and i want to get to know you better. i understand that this may seem too good to be true but i promise you, my intentions are pure.”
nanami isn’t surprised when you don’t budge, eyes slanted as you glare him down. (and you look so adorable while doing it.) he expected this reaction from you and little did you know, he’s already one step ahead. if his words don’t move you, then he’s sure his actions will get the point across.
fishing for his wallet in his pocket, he pulls it out, handing you a five dollar bill, “this is for the cinnamon rolls and this,” he takes out a set of bills, hundred dollar bills and you watch him, mouth ajar as he counts off each one before placing it in your free hand. is he serious? “this is for your tuition and a little extra to spend. we’ll handle the ‘loans that have loans’ on our first date, alright?”
you’re speechless, eyes shifting between nanami’s face and the money in your hand as you try your best to process what’s happening before you. from joking about needing a sugar-daddy to having one in front of you. and the man wants to spend time with you, no sex required! you surely couldn’t doubt him now, not when he gave you the money without you actually agreeing. maybe this was the blessing from god you’d been waiting for.
you clear your throat, nodding dazedly. “a-alright, yeah . . . we can talk more on our first date.”
nanami smiles once more, glancing at his watch prior to picking up the paper bag off the counter. “as much as i want to stay with you, i have to get back to the office.” reaching into his pants pocket, he slides a laminated card on the counter. “my personal number is on this card. when you get a chance, call or send me a text. i’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”
with a playful wink, nanami leaves the cafe — your eyes trailing his lithe frame until he turns a street corner, completely out of sight. it’s like you were frozen in place, the money still in your hands. when you finally decide to take a look at the business card he left, your jaw quite literally drops to the floor: this man is the coo of jujutsu, one of the biggest marketing companies in the country.
                                 kento nanami
                            chief operating officer
               jujutsu marketing and e-commerce, llc.
                                 xxx-xxx-xxxx
now, you were definitely certain that god did indeed hear and answer your prayers. in more ways than one.
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tagging: @sttoru @screampied @thebimbopalace @tojancy
© shaguro, 2023 - do not plagiarise nor repost anything on any other platform.
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vanessagillings · 2 months
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I’m posting the ever-so-rare photo of myself alongside one of my characters based on my childhood because today is World Autism Acceptance Day, and I wanted to show my little corner of the internet who this particular autistic person is:  
I was officially diagnosed in February, at age 38 (I’m now 39). A lot of people thought I couldn’t be autistic.  Some people who know me in real life still don’t.  And until around 10 years ago, I didn’t think I could be either, because I was nothing like the stereotype media portrays. I was told that autistics lacked empathy (untrue), and never played make-believe (also often untrue) and only enjoyed STEM.  I was — and am — an empathetic artist -- and make believe?  I can spend days sketching finely bedecked bears brewing tea or carefully choosing the right words to weave tapestries of fiction — though perhaps my hyper focus was a bit of a red flag.  Even so, how could autism describe me?  I was a good student.  I got straight A's. I didn’t act out in class.  I can make eye contact…if I must.  And lots of girls hate having their hair brushed with an unholy passion, right?  Clearly I swim in sarcasm like a fish, so autism couldn't be why I was so anxious all the time, could it?
If someone had told me when I was younger what autism ACTUALLY is — instead of the nonsense I’d seen on screens — I would have seen myself in it.  I didn’t hear that autistics have sensory issues until I was in my mid-twenties, which is when I first began to really research autism symptoms, and I had almost all of them:  sensitivity to light, smells, fabrics, temperatures, textures, and certain touches, all of which make me feel anxious, I fidget (stim), I never know what the hell to do with my hands or where to look, I talk too little or too much, I have special interests, I have entire animated movies memorized shot-by-shot and can remember the first time and place I saw every movie I've ever seen but I often forget what I'm trying to say mid-sentence, I echo movies and tv shows (my husband and I have a whole repertoire of shared echolalias, making up about 20% of our conversations), I was in speech therapy as a kid, I have issues with dysnomia and verbal fluency, I toe-walk, I can't multitask to save my life, I like things just-so, I’m deeply introverted but not shy, I need to recover from all social interaction — even social interaction I enjoy — and I find stupid, every day things like grocery shopping, driving and making appointments overwhelming and intensely stressful, sometimes to the point where I struggle to speak.  It turns out, I am definitely autistic. My results weren't borderline. Not even close. And while these aren’t all of my challenges, and not everyone with these symptoms is autistic, it’s definitely something to look into if you present with all of these things at once. 
So why did it take me so long to get diagnosed? The same bias that exists in media threads through the medical community as well, and because I'm a woman who can discuss the weather while smiling on cue, few people thought I was worth looking into. Even after I was fairly certain I was autistic, receiving an official diagnosis in the US is unnecessarily difficult and expensive, and in my case, completely uncovered by my insurance.  It cost me over $4000, and I could only afford it because my husband makes more money than I do as a freelance illustrator — a job I fell into largely because it didn’t require in-person work; like many autists, I have been chronically underemployed and underpaid, in part due to physical illness in my twenties, which is a topic for another day.  But it shouldn’t be like this.  It shouldn’t be so hard for adults to receive diagnoses and it shouldn’t be so hard for people to see themselves in this condition to begin with due to misinformation and stereotypes. Like many issues in America, these barriers are even higher for marginalized groups with multiple intersectionalities. 
It’s commonly said that if you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person.  This is why it’s called a spectrum, not because there’s a linear progression of severity (someone who appears to have low support needs like myself might need more than it seems, and vice versa), but because every autistic person has their own strengths and weaknesses, challenges and experiences, opinions and needs.  No two people on the spectrum present in the same way.  And that’s a good thing!  No way of being autistic is inherently any better than any other, and even if someone on the spectrum struggles with things I don’t — or can do things I can’t — doesn’t make them more or less deserving of respect and human dignity.
But speaking solely for myself, the more I learn about autism, the happier I am to be autistic.  I struggle to find words and exert fine motor control, but my deep passion and fixation has made me good at art and storytelling anyway.  I find more joy watching dogs and studying leaf shapes on my walks than most people do in an entire day.  More often than not, the barriers I’ve faced weren’t due to my autism directly, but due to society being overly rigid about what it considers a valid way of existing.  My hope in writing this today is that maybe one person will realize that autism isn’t what they thought — and that being different is not the same as being less than. My hope with my fiction is to give autistic children mirrors with which to see themselves, and everyone else windows through which to see us as we actually are.
If you’re interested in learning more about autism or think you might be autistic, too, I recommend the Autism Self Advocacy Network  autisticadvocacy.org and the following books:
What I Mean When I Say I’m Autistic by Annie Kotowicz
We're Not Broken by Eric Garcia
Knowing Why edited by Elizabeth Bartmess
Unmasking Autism by Devon Price, PhD
Loud Hands edited by Julia Bascom
Neurotribes by Steve Silberman
(trigger warning: the last two contain quite a lot of upsetting material involving institutionalized child abuse, but I think it’s important for people to know how often autistic children were — and are — abused simply for being neurodivergent).
Thanks for reading 💛
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jobean12-blog · 4 months
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Back in my Arms
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader
Word Count: 1,173
Summary: Your relationship with Bucky is still new and even though the feelings are deep it's hard to put a label on it but when something goes wrong while he's out on a mission you realize just how much he means to you.
Author's Note: Because who wouldn't miss Bucky and worry about him when he's out saving the world? Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰
Warnings: some worry and angst to start, soft and sweet fluff that turns to sexy times quick, semi-public se-x sorta :D
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The loud ringing of your phone startles you from sleep and you sit up with a jolt. Searching the night table with a sweep of your hand you knock several things off but finally wrap your fingers around your phone.
“Hello,” you grumble sleepily.
“You were asleep.”
Your best friend’s uneasy voice comes through in a whisper and your heart starts to thump harder against your ribcage.
“What’s wrong?” you ask.
“Babe…”
You sit up straighter and throw the covers off. “What?”
“They aren’t giving us any details but I just saw the news…”
“What?” you repeat and press your hand to your chest.
“It looks like the team is back but something went wrong.”
“Did you hear anything about Bucky?”
Your voice is shaky as you frantically search your room for clothes.
“No names but…”
“Oh my god.”
“I’m sure he’s fine babe,” she assures you even as her voice waivers. “But don’t turn on the TV or look at anything on your phone. Did he call?”
You slowly pull the phone away from your ear and check your messages.
Nothing.
You look at your missed calls and voicemail.
Still nothing.
When you hear your friend calling your name you place the phone back to your ear and whisper, “nothing.”
“It’s Bucky…he’s fine.”
“Okay. He has to be fine. I mean…technically I’m not his girlfriend. I can’t just rush over there and check on him, can I?”
“What you meant to say is, ‘you’re not his girlfriend yet,’ and who’s going to stop you?”
You nod as you start to pull on some clothes.
“I have to go. I’ll call you soon.”
With a few more reassuring words your best friend hangs up and you rush into the bathroom to make yourself presentable and then throw on Bucky’s Henley. The one you maybe forgot to return before he left for the mission.
Trying your best not to picture the worst in your head you run out of your apartment building and hail wildly for a cab.
Once inside your feet bounce along the floor and your hands are clasped tightly together in your lap as you silently will the driver to go faster.
When the cab pulls up to the tower you throw money into the front seat with a stilted ‘thank you’ and will yourself to take steady breaths.
Friday greets you and lets you in, directing you to the med bay on the lower floor.
Heart in your throat you creep out of the elevator and look left and right. It’s quiet. Almost too quiet and you step out.
“Doll?”
You whirl around at the sound of Bucky’s voice.
He’s standing there in his dark jeans that are painted on, his soft shirt rolled up to the elbows and his leather jacket thrown over his shoulder. The fluorescent lighting gleams off his metal arm and you hear his fingers tighten into a fist.
“Oh good,” you whisper as his image blurs. “You’re okay.”
You try not to sniffle and keep your hands at your sides.
“I heard there was some trouble, so I…I figured I would come and check on you. And the rest of the team.”
“You came to check on me?”
His raspy voice sends a tremble down your spine.
“Yes.”
He takes a step closer.
“Is that my shirt doll face?”
“Oh…,” you grab the hem and finger the soft material.
“Doll…please. Please come here.”
You back up a step, hitting the elevator door. “I…I was so worried.”
His swallow is audible and you watch the muscles in his neck shift.
“I would have called but my phone is busted and I had to make sure Sam was ok.”
“Is Sam ok?” you ask, suddenly breathless again.
“Thankfully he’s going to be fine. Just needs some time.”
You nod and let out a shaky breath. He approaches slowly, dropping his jacket to the floor and holding his arms out for you.
“Doll…please. Come here. Let me kiss you. It’s all I’ve wanted to do for the past three weeks.”
Your whispered “okay,” can barely be heard above your breathing but the second he’s close enough you launch yourself into his arms.
He wraps you up tightly, your slight shakes making him coo softly in your ear as he smooths his hands along your back and kisses your head.
“Oh doll,” he whispers. “I’m fine. I’m right here.”
Your face presses into his chest and you inhale.
When his hand slides higher and wraps around the back of your neck he brings your eyes to his, their gaze falling to your mouth before he closes the distance, crashing his lips to yours.   
Your broken moan makes him press you impossibly closer, needing to feel all of you.
He growls your name and takes two steps backward, pinning you against the wall. His lips trail down your neck and then back up until they meet your earlobe.
“I can’t fuck you here doll. But if we don’t stop that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“I need you now,” you plead, dragging your fingers through his hair. “Now Bucky. Please. I can’t wait.”
You’ve barely got the words out when he lifts you into his arms and starts to move down the hallway. You pull on his shirt and wrap your legs around his waist, rocking your hips against his.
His hand reaches out to feel for a doorknob and he kicks open the door to an old med room. You slide down his body and onto the floor as he reaches behind him to turn the lock.
Your fingers slip under his shirt and you run your fingernails over his abs as he walks you backward toward the wall.
“Take his off. Please. I need to feel you.”
“That’s my line doll,” he murmurs.
The urgency in your touch is nearly his undoing and between kisses he fumbles with your leggings, groaning when he slips his hand between your legs and feels the soaked fabric of your panties.
With a rip they float to the floor and he spreads your legs apart with his knee. You push his pants down and free him, taking him in your hand and guiding him closer.
He stills, trying to focus on his breathing and garner some semblance of control.
“Rough Bucky. I want it hard and rough.”
There goes any chance he had of holding onto control.
He fills you in one swift stroke and you bite back a scream, moaning into his hand when he covers your mouth.
“I thought about you the whole fucking time we were gone. I never stopped.”
He drops his hand to hear you whine his name in response and he slows the movement of his hips.
“Tell me you missed me,” he groans.
You inhale and curl your fingers into his skin.
“I missed you.”
He grabs your ass and lifts you higher, angling your hips so he can go deeper.
“Say it again,” he demands.
“Missed you Bucky. I missed you so much.”
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@hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @lizette50 @kmc1989 @goldylions @littleseasiren @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife
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lustfulslxt · 2 months
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Spoiled Rotten - Chris Sturniolo
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summary : chris spoils you like no other and you show him how grateful you are
warnings : chris basically being a sugar daddy, swearing, m! oral, p in v, breeding kink, probably some other shit idk
a/n : hii, it’s been entirely too long. i’m kinda rusty but i hope this makes up for it!!
Getting everything you’ve ever wanted, even without having to ask, is something you never would’ve imagined for yourself. You’ve always had to work so incredibly hard for even the smallest things. Hell, you’ve had to work two jobs since you were old enough to work, just to be able to afford your bills.
Having a deadbeat father and a mother who had passed always made your life hard. It was up to you to keep things afloat. Keeping the bills paid, the kitchen stocked with groceries, the house tidy — it was all up to you, on top of having to keep your grades up to avoid the wrath of your absent yet, for some reason, still abusive father.
After your mom died, everything went downhill. Your father spiraled out of control. Because of his own wrongdoings, he took his anger out on you. He lost his job, gambled away the majority of your family’s savings, and spent the rest of it on alcohol and drugs. He made it all out to be your fault. If you hadn’t stepped up and started working your ass off, you’d definitely be living on the streets right now.
So, from where you were only a few years ago, to where you are now — you never would’ve pictured having any and everything you could ever want. Especially, from someone else’s wallet.
Chris’ wallet.
Your boyfriend knew of your previous struggles. He’d been your best friend since you were in elementary, so he witnessed what you had to do to get by. He’d beg and beg for you to just let him help, but you’d always refuse. If your own father can’t take care of you, why would you expect someone else to?
However, after so long, Chris ignored your reluctance and was quick to pamper you. Quick to provide for you. You’re everything to him, and he wants to make up for your sorry excuse of a father.
He moved you in with him after being together for two years. He doesn’t let you pay for anything. Him and his brothers keep the bills paid, as well as food in the kitchen. Anything to do with money, he’s got covered. And he still makes sure to spoil you rotten. Yet, not without a complaint from you.
“Chris!” You pouted, “Will you put your damn wallet away?”
Instantly, he’s shaking his head, “No. I don’t know why we have to keep going over this. Whatever you want, I’m getting. So, stop complaining and accept it.”
“But-“
He’s quick to cut you off with a peck to your lips. When you huff, he only grins and wraps an arm around your waist, continuing your stroll through the store.
Chris is extremely observant, and he knows you. He knows you like the back of his hand. So, when you turn away from something too quick after checking the price tag, he knows it’s something you like. You’re trying to throw him off and act uninterested in the entire store, but he can read you better than anyone.
So, while you’re off browsing through everything, grabbing the few things that you can afford, in hopes of talking him into letting you pay for it, he’s backtracking and grabbing your size in everything you took a liking in. By the time you make your way to the registers, Chris is already swiping his card.
Upon seeing the multiple bags on the counter in front of him, you can’t help but frown. You slowly turn around, heading to put the few shirts you had grabbed back. There’s no use in trying.
When you head back to Chris, he’s eyeing you with furrowed eyebrows. You walk next to him and he’s looking between you and the rack you were just at.
“Did you want those?” He asks.
You quickly shake your head, “No.”
“Are you sure? I can-“
You instantly loop your arm with his and drag him to the exit. You’re extremely grateful, but you can’t help but a little guilty because he spends so much money on you. You don’t want him to feel obligated just because you had a shitty past.
However, that’s far from how he feels. He just loves and adores you, and wants to give you everything you could ever want.
On the way home, Chris has your hand in his while he drives. Your eyes never leave him as you’re deep in thought. Thinking of everything he’s ever done and continues to do for you makes you so happy you could cry. You just want to show him how appreciative you are.
Pulling up to the house, you notice a big box sitting in front of the door. You furrow your eyebrows for a second, before concluding one of the boys must have ordered something. Once you both get out with the few bags, you head over and Chris picks up the box with a giant smile on his face.
You can’t help but smile at his smile, “Is that for you? What did you get?”
His eyes twinkle as he looks at you, “You’ll see.”
You give him a quizzical look before following him inside. Rather than stopping at the kitchen, he goes straight down to your shared room, so you follow him.
He places the box on the floor and is quick to open it. You set your bags down on the desk chair and walk over to him, your brows raised with curiosity. As soon as he gets the box open, he smiles widely and gestures for you to look and rummage through. Which you do. What you see has you gasping.
“Chris! You did not…”
He proudly nods, “I did, baby.”
Inside the box are numerous purses, shoes, fragrances, and several boxed skincare products. All things you had in your online cart. Things you never actually planned on buying, for the prices are too expensive, and you were only having a little fun.
Your heart swells at the gesture. He’s always doing the absolute most for you. There’s never ever been a time where he’s denied you of something you want, especially if it comes with a price tag.
You turn to Chris, a downward smile pulling to your lips as you look at him. He smiles back, only bigger and brighter. You take his hands in yours and yank him into you. Your lips meet his in a soft kiss. When he pulls away, you’re left chasing his lips for another. Passionately kissing him, until you’re both left breathless.
As soon as you part, you’re pushing him back onto the bed behind him. He falls with a bounce and wide eyes as he stares up at you.
Before he gets a word out, you’re straddling his lap. “You’re always so good to me. Let me be good to you.”
It takes seconds for Chris to start growing beneath your center. You lick your lips and lean forward, diving into a feverish kiss. His hands quickly meet your back, rubbing up and down, and along your sides.
You hum against his lips, enjoying the feeling of his hands on your body. Your hands move from his face to his hair, sharply tugging on it, eliciting a groan from him that makes your heat throb.
You pull away, your breathing shallow as you tug at the hem of his shirt. He leans up to assist you in removing it, before taking your lips in his again. Your hands instantly meet his bare torso, touching along his pecks and running your hands down his abdomen. His skin is hot beneath your fingertips and it stirs something inside of your stomach.
Your tongues dance together, moving in perfect sync with one another. The kiss gets sloppy, saliva coating both of your mouths. Chris is now rock hard beneath you, and you can’t help but grind against him, the two of you moaning into the kiss.
Your hands travel down his stomach, hooking onto his belt. Without parting from him, you undo his buckle and pull the belt from the loops of his jeans.
“God, you’re so hot.” He groans against your mouth.
You grin and push him back, his hair fluffing as his head hits the pillow below him. Your fingers grasp the button on his pants and quickly part it, slowly sliding his zipper down. He bucks his hips into your hands, desperate for more friction.
You lean forward, whispering in his ear, “Easy baby.” You place a kiss on his neck, causing him to shudder. “Promise I’m gonna make you feel so good.”
With one last kiss to his lips, you remove yourself from his lap and kneel beside him. He lifts his hips up to help you pull his pants down, his boxers following shortly after.
His cock stands tall, fully erect. Precum dribbles from the tip as his veins practically throb. Your mouth is watering at the sight. You take him in your palm, gripping softly. He takes in a sharp breath at the feeling, already fisting the sheets.
You stare into his eyes, puckering your lips, and push forward a jewel of saliva. It falls onto his head, trickling down his length, causing his mouth to fall slack as he takes you in.
You never cease to amaze him. Looking so innocent, but about to swallow him whole. He loves everything about you, especially the way you wrap your mouth around him.
Your tongue flicks over the slit of his tip, causing him to let out a small groan. You smile and wrap your lips around his head, sucking softly.
“Fuck..” He whispers, breathlessly.
Letting your mouth salivate even more, you continue teasing him. His breathing is erratic, eyes wide as he watches you. He so badly wants to shove his dick down your throat.
Luckily for him, you stop with the games and take him into your mouth. You force yourself down to the base, your nose pressing into his pelvic bone. He lets out a throaty moan at the feeling of his tip digging into the warm walls of your throat.
You flatten your tongue and begin bobbing your head up and down, working his cock the way he loves. Occasionally humming around him, pulling more moans from his pretty mouth.
“So fucking good.” He groans, bucking into your mouth.
His hands entangle in your hair as you look up at him and give him the slightest nod, keeping your mouth on him. His grip on you tightens, holding you in place as he begins thrusting in and out of your mouth.
The sounds of wet gagging fill the air, topped with his moans and groans. Your eyes prick with tears before they’re soon falling down your cheeks. Your face is flushed and stained with mascara streaks, drool falling down your chin. Chris can’t help but think you look the prettiest you’ve ever looked as he fucks your throat.
Your hand cups his balls, softly massaging them. His moans grow louder from the sensation, his orgasm approaching rather quickly from the combined stimulations.
His thrusts into your mouth grow sloppy and disorganized. His stomach tightens and his arms flex as he’s pushed over the edge. His hands push you into his dick, holding you in place as it bulges through your neck. He tosses his head back with a lewd moan leaving his mouth, his cock simultaneously spilling down your throat. It’s warm as it smoothly coats your throat, almost like honey when you’re sick. You love every bit of it.
Licking around his member, you pull your lips from him, making sure to suck every bit of cum from him. He groans at the sight of you swallowing every drop, and instantly pulls you up to him with a rough grip on your jaw.
He smashed his lips on yours, kissing you deeply and hungrily. Your pussy throbs for more, aching to be filled with his cock. It only takes a few seconds before he’s flipping you over.
He kneels between your thighs and tugs at your shirt, swiftly removing it. You bite your bottom lip in excitement, ready for him to fuck your brains out. His hands are quickly at your shorts, tugging them and your panties off in one motion. Him being eager to be inside you has you clenching around nothing.
His hands grope your bare tits, squeezing them in his palms. Your soft moans only encourage him. One hand goes back and forth between them, tweaking your nipples. His other hand slides between your legs, running through your folds.
He hums, “So wet already. Does sucking my cock turn you on? Hm?”
You only nod, your bottom lip still pressed tightly between your teeth.
“Mm, such a good little slut for me.”
You whine at his words and push your core into his hand, desperate for more. He pulls away from you, his hand suddenly coming down on your pussy in a quick motion, causing you to yelp as your body jerks. Your arousal only leaks more than it was. To which he notices.
He pouts, “Aw, you like that? You want it rough, don’t you?”
Your head quickly shakes up and down, whining as he rubs your clit. “Yes! Please, please. Want you to fuck me dumb.”
It didn’t take much for Chris to become fully erect again. You always do it for him. The second he kissed you after you swallowed him, he was growing again. That’s something you both love. Sometimes, you can go round after round.
He takes hold of his dick and runs it along your pussy. You whimper from the feeling, slightly grinding down into him. After a few teasing touches, his cock his saturated with your juices, making it easier to slide into you.
Your walls stretch around his girth in such a painfully pleasurable way. Your breath is stripped from your lungs as he bottoms out. You’ve never felt so full. His breath staggers from above you, loving the way you hug him so snugly.
He waits for you to adjust, and once he feels you aren’t so tense, he begins rocking in and out of you. Soft moans leave your lips as your hands run up his arms and grip his biceps. He leans down and presses a few kisses to your hand before picking up the speed.
“You feel so fucking good.” He moans, his strokes deep and hard.
Your mouth falls open, continuous moans emitting from it as your eyes roll back while your head falls to the side. Chris nudges your head to the side and attacks your neck with wet and sloppy open mouthed kisses. His hand suddenly wraps around your throat, applying a great pressure as he pushes himself up. His opposite hand grips your tit before smacking it, causing you to moan and clench around him.
“Look at me when I’m fucking you.” He grits, his hips snapping into yours with a strong force.
You want to look, but you can’t. Your eyes are practically stuck rolled into your head. You can hardly breathe with how hard he’s fucking you. Before you can even try, his hand slaps your face. Not enough to cause damage, but enough to feel the remaining sting. You can’t help but gush around his cock, loving every bit of it all.
You forcefully put your head down, eyes straining to focus on him. And boy are you glad. His hair is slick against his forehead, his skin glistening with a sheen layer of sweat. His cheeks are flushed a rosy pink color, his lips plump from your previous make out. His brows are furrowed in concentration and his entire face is struck with absolute pleasure. He looks like a dream.
You reach your hand out to caress his face and he leans into your touch. You love that he can still be sweet while completely wrecking you.
“Tell me how you feel.” He groans as he fucks in and out of you.
You bring your bottom lip in between your teeth, biting hard to control your moans. Though, it doesn’t work as your jaw drops and loud cries fall from your mouth.
His hand meets your jaw, slightly jerking to snap you out of the blissful trance he’s put you in. His eyes are dark as they bore into you, reiterating with every thrust, “Tell me. How you. Feel.”
Your face contorts in pleasure, sobbing out in between thrusts, “Mm, so good. F-feels sooo good, baby.”
“Such a good girl for me.” He coos, breathlessly.
Your mouth falls open, silent moans leaving it as he fucks into you. You’re on cloud nine. Your body feels on fire as pure bliss floods your veins. You can’t help but repeatedly clench around him as your climax nears. Your face contorts in pleasure, nails digging into his arm, leaving behind crescent shapes in his skin. The knot in your stomach tightens before unexpectedly snapping. You clench around his cock, your juices saturating him as you come undone.
He moans at the feeling, burying his face in your neck as he drops down again, digging into you deeper and deeper. “Gonna fill you up, ma. You’d like that, yeah? Give you my babies? Just wanna have even more to give you, you drive me fucking crazy.”
You soak in his words as you come down from your high, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist, pulling him into you. He smirks at your action, pressing a few sloppy kisses on your lips.
“Yeah, I knew you’d like that.” He moans as his thrusts grow erratic and out of rhythm.
His grip on you tightens, surely leaving behind purple finger shaped bruises. He buries cock into you, loudly groaning as he fills you up. He keeps fucking into you, determined to give you all he’s got. As soon as he can’t take it anymore, he pulls out and collapses beside you.
The two of you lay there, sweaty and panting, trying to recover from your intense orgasms. You both meet eyes, silly grins pulling to both of your faces. Neither of you have ever loved someone more.
Before succumbing to the exhaustion he felt, Chris perks up and leans over to his bedside table. “Oh, I got you one more thing.”
He turns back to you with a small black bag in his hand, offering it to you with a bright smile. You look at him with a pout, before taking the bag.
“When are you gonna stop with this?” You question, cheekily adding, “Aren’t your kids enough?”
He chuckles at you, “Just open the bag.”
So, you do. Inside it is a small black wallet — a wallet that is known for being one of a kind. Its intricate patterns are displayed along the material, the infamous logo engraved in the corner. You open it up to further examine it, your brows furrowing at what’s inside. Upon retrieving it, you look at Chris with a deadpan expression. His black credit card.
He smirks at you, “Yours now baby. No limit, so don’t even bother asking before you swipe it.”
a/n : ughh, okay so tbh i rushed the ending bc i ended up losing half of what i had since my cellular device is a literal piece of garbage. anywho, fingers crossed this was enjoyable lmaoo. it’s gonna take a minute for me to get back into things! missed you guys tho <3
taglist : @luv4kozume @worldlxvlys @flowerxbunnie @sturniolowhore @creamoncreamoncream2 @lvrsparadise @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @tillies33ssss @chrissfavwh3re @its-jennarose @sophssturn @defnotayonna @ksskianshd @d0wnbad4chris @braindead4l @avasturn @knowingnothingnoel @luverboychris @remussbitch @stunza @rootbeerworshiper @dracoflaco @strnlsblog @venusbabysblog @domaniquessidehoe @mattslolita @junnniiieee07 @pepsienthusiasts @gamermattsgf @cupidsword @iloveneilperry @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @luul223 @matt444nixi @sturniololol
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luveline · 4 months
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Ahh I’m so obsessed with stripper!reader and Spencer!! Do you have any more thoughts about them you’d be willing to share, maybe just a snippet of their life together? So so in love with them and your writing in general
i got a different request for them that I lost about reader struggling to afford essentials and so I thought I’d combine them, I hope that’s ok!! <;3 fem, 1.1k
cw food insecurity/ poverty 
You attempt to save money, but the ten dollars you don't spend on shampoo and conditioner gets used on painkillers. You hide fifty dollars in a book and try to forget about it, but your shoes split open on the walk to work, and it takes all afternoon to find it again. You try so hard to stretch your paycheck and something new makes it impossible. 
So it's a cold night in late December and you spent all your money for food on the gas bill. Your stomach hurts, but at least your nose isn't that horrible stiff cold that distracts. 
It's not just that your stomach hurts, though. You feel miserable about everything, and you know you need to ask someone for help. You've thought about selling something, but you already pawned your watch, and everything else is inconsequential. 
I could sell my phone… but how would I talk to Spencer? 
It's the stupidest thought you could've had. More importantly, how would you communicate with work? How would you call your electric and gas company, or talk to your landlord? 
Spencer would be so sad if he knew you’d sold your phone to pay for food. He’d probably be upset knowing you considered it. And you won’t get paid for another three days, so unless you can somehow live off of olives and cherries from the club bar, you have to ask Spencer for money or get a loan. With your credit score, one situation is more likely than the other. 
You bring your phone across the pillow and sigh before clicking on his contact. He’s practically the only number you call. 
“Hello?” you ask. 
“Hi, Y/N.” 
“Hello, handsome,” you murmur, staging an affect of someone who couldn’t be more unbothered by the world. 
“Yeah, hi. You okay?” 
You don’t want to butter him up. It feels dishonest. You should be straight forward. “Spencer. You know I hate asking you for things.” 
“Yes, it’s the only bad thing about you.” He sounds like he’s smiling. You can imagine him on his couch reading something obscure, or watching one of his sci-fi shows, curls in his eyes, grey pyjamas too short for him riding up his calves as they tend to do.
“But I need– um. I don’t have any money?” You don’t mean to phrase it like a question. “Like. Okay, so, I promise you I am not an irresponsible person, just, my gas bill went up and I didn’t know, but it’s so cold I paid it anyways, and now I have three dollars. Um. Total. And I haven’t eaten all day and I’m sorry I’m asking, but I just need like twenty dollars until I get paid on Tuesday. Could you let me borrow twenty dollars, please?” 
“Do you want to get takeout?” 
You cringe. “No, like, twenty dollars for groceries, Spence.” 
“No, I understood. That’s fine, I’ll happily give you twenty dollars. But you said you haven’t eaten today? And I miss you, so it’s an excuse?” Now he’s the one making questions out of statements. “I can get us Thai food.” 
Your stomach pangs at the thought. No matter how much you hate this, you know he loves you enough to want to bring you dinner, and you really will pay him back, so he might as well. “Yeah, please. I’d love to see you, Dr. Reid.”
“I’ll be quick,” he promises. 
He isn’t. You wonder if he’s forgotten you and your rumbling stomach, curled into a c-shape under the sheets. It’s warm, at least, nearly too warm, the blade of your hunger threatening to drive you mad. It’s not a nice feeling, depending on the kindness of a friend to see you through, nor is it very pleasant to be this hungry. You’ve gone hungry a hundred times, and this is the only time you’ve ever had someone you trusted enough to turn to during that time to ask for help. What if Spencer’s decided he isn’t comfortable with your lending after all and he doesn’t come over tonight? 
You’d been looking forward to seeing him again. It’s almost worse than the hunger. 
Just as you’re thinking he’s decided he doesn’t want to be your friend anymore, he lets himself in. 
Your apartment is small, consisting of three rooms. The bedroom, the bathroom, and the living room kitchen combination. He lets himself into the living room with a cacophony of rustling and a called, “Hello!” followed soon by a muttered swear. 
You laugh under your breath.
“Are you coming out here, or do you want to eat dinner in bed?” he asks. 
“I haven’t decided yet.” 
It’s quiet enough besides his arrival that you’ve no need to shout.
“Well, stay there if you want. Have you been drinking anything? I brought iced tea and some stuff for you to have breakfast tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” You force yourself to sit up. One moment you’re looking at the closed door and the next you’re squinting against the light of the kitchen, Spencer in the doorway like a silhouette against it. “Hey, Spence. You’re taller than last time.” 
“I’m the same size as always.”
“You’re still wearing your shoes. That must be it.” 
Spencer takes off his shoes and crosses the short distance to you. “Hi,” he says, taking your hand as he sits down. His fingers are freezing. “Sorry I took a while.”
“Sorry for asking you for money.” 
“It’s okay. It’s not something to worry about. Everyone has to ask a favour sometime.” 
His hair is wind blown, his eyes watery. The cold weather has nipped his pert nose a rosy pink and he’s smiling at you with chapped lips, unaware of or uncaring about his own circumstances in the face of yours. “You okay?” he asks, his pretty brown eyes narrowing, eyebrows pinching together at the starts. “You can’t just not eat all day and not tell me.”
You nod tightly. It’s humiliating to be in this position. 
He softens. “Did they tell you the rate was rising? It’s illegal in Virginia–”
You take your hand from his. “They sent me a letter I didn’t open. I knew it would be bad news.” 
Spencer looks down at your knees. “I know that you’re used to doing things by yourself, but you don’t have to anymore.”
“‘Cos you look after me,” you say quietly. 
“I’m trying to.” 
You laugh and jog your joined hands to make him look up. “Okay. Look after me some more then and give me a hug. I’m too warm, and you’re freezing.” 
He hugs you tightly, quick to rub your shoulder blade with his thumb. “Stay here, okay? I’ll bring you a plate.” 
You cling to him for a few seconds, until hunger wins, and you send him off into the kitchen again. 
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frosensims · 2 months
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First of all, i want to say i’m sorry if the english is bad, it’s not my native language but i’ll try my best.
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This is so embarrassing for me. I don’t even have much followers here but i literally don’t know what to do. I’m desperate and I wouldn’t do this if I wasn’t really really desperate.
I’m struggling so hard financially right now. I want to explain my whole situation but it’s hard when I don’t really know how to explain in english.
To keep it short - I don’t have any money at all right now after paying my bills. And now my dog is sick which I found out yesterday. She needs to have a back surgery, and this will costs me a lot of money, because the insurance does not cover the entire cost.
If i cant afford the surgery, the vet suggests euthanasia. I’m so sad and heartbroken because she is my everything.
I need about 6000 KR (Swedish) which is 532 USD I think?
I hate to do this. I don’t have a job because I was recently studying but right now i’m looking for jobs like crazy so I can pay my bills AND save my little girl.
If someone can donate I’m forever thankful!! Even if it’s just the minimum amount. Im thankful for anything!!
And if you can’t, please reblog this. I appreciate a reblog just as much!
And IF I get the donations I need for a surgery I’ll immediately update this post and let you know!!
Again, i’m sorry for my bad english.
DONATE HERE (thank you!!!!)
——————
I want to give back to all the wonderful souls out there who donated and still are donating but I don’t know how. I will make builds/sim dumps/save files and everything possible to give back to you in the way that I can.
Thank u ❤️
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spitdrunken · 4 months
Note
I’m loving your vees x reader take and I thought I’d add some of my own:
You push back against the vees once, and it ends badly for you, especially with Val.
ooooo i love this thought!!
notes: implied (sexual) assault (not done by any of the Vees), forced prostitution
Maybe this is the universe where 'you' are an erotica writer for the Vees, completely unaware of the amount of privileges you're being given. Well, compared to the typical unfortunate soul that ends up doing 'contracted work' for them, at least. You aren't worked to the bone by Vox, not held to Velvette's high standards nor lashing tongue, or made to spread your legs for anyone or anything by Valentino, including himself. You just stay in your small office, meet your deadlines, and have semi-regular meetings with Vox. Really, you have no idea how lucky you are.
Pushing back against the Vees could mean anything. Perhaps you insisted on getting more royalties in return for your work, or for your deadlines to be pushed back. Depending on how long you've been working there and the level of interest from the Vees, you might have messed around with someone too much, and protested against the consequences.
An example will need to be set. A first punishment should be one of the roughest ones, the three of them agree, in order to set a good example for the future. And, well... Who better to leave it to than Val? Valentino will give you something worth actually bitching and moaning about. He's likely not angry enough to actually shoot you, but there's plenty of other things he can fuck you up with! His goal is making you know your place, know how nice they've been all along... What better way to show you that, than making you walk the track?
Valentino makes enough money off of his porn and demons begging to hook up with his people, that he doesn't actually send people out on the street anymore, except as a punishment. The risk is simply far higher than any possible rewards, in Hell at least. He's famous now, so there's no need for it. The only thing worse than a dumb whore is a dead, dumb whore, he'd laugh out when asked about it. But this shit was what he made the majority of his money came from back in life, so he knows exactly how to dit.
You'd get dressed up in clothes of Valentino's choice, flashy enough, and obviously related to the Vees, so that you're sure to get your fair share of attention. You'll get demons drooling at your feet, without you even having to try. Though the possibility of you getting robbed is just as present. Valentino practically shoves you out the door, a hand on each of your shoulders, and a grin on his face. You're allowed back inside when you make me a bit of cash, baby. How about a thousand? And then slams the door in your face.
You're left out on the street, and shaking. You stand out far more than you'd like, and you have no interest in actually going through with what's been ordered of you. But how else are you supposed to get that much in cash, that quickly? You stand there, trembling, entirely unsure of what to do. Your phone vibrates in your pocket.
Valentino: i can see you out the window. Valentino: get OUT THREE Valentino: you don't want to stand around for too long.
And maybe you go out there and try, or maybe you don't! Either way, you're such an obvious target that it doesn't take long for you to be cornered in an alley, knife to your throat. (And even though you know you can't actually die anymore, that all of your cells will, eventually, regenerate, that doesn't make your fear any less poignant.)
Perhaps you are only robbed, perhaps something worse, but after that, when you're alone again and crying, your phone starts to vibrate so hard that you take it out and throw it away-- It feels like it's about to explode, after all. And out pops Vox, all pleasant smiles and offering you to take you back to headquarters. You're safe now, just trust him. If he'd been able to do that all along, then, why didn't he save you before? The question is ready on your lips, but you don't speak it aloud. You know the answer, and you're not ready to hear it spoken by another.
...You guess you know why Velvette sometimes calls him a 'prince', now.
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look-at-the-soul · 2 months
Text
Every little thing you do- Part 3
Tommy Shelby x reader
Series master list
A/N: I’m sorry I couldn’t post this past Saturday something came up, so next part will be posted on next Wednesday and so on until I go back to post each Saturday. ♥️ Thank you for reading and engaging in this little idea! It means a lot!
Word count: 3,038
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After listening to the doctor assure her that the baby was fine last week, Y/N had a lot of time to think and digest all the major changes she was about to face. She couldn’t help but stay up at night and cry endlessly on her own, but after a few days Y/N had finally made a decision. It wasn’t easy, but like her grandmother had said, she didn’t have many options.
Polly had also talked to her with her heart on her sleeve. She had assured her that in the end, women did well with or without a man by their side, her own husband passed away after getting too drunk, Tommy’s father wasn’t the best example to lead a family, Y/N knew too well how their relationship ended up, Ada had married Freddy only for him passing away too soon and she had raised Karl on her own.
She was right, but there was a huge difference, regardless of the useless men in their lives, they still had their last name as support. It didn’t mean anything, but legally it granted them more rights than being a single mother. The injuries on her back had been healing, she was now able to wear her regular clothes and even though she still flinched at times from the pain, it felt nice to move around more freely.
At least she had a place to sleep and food to eat, so at the moment she got it covered. She needed to save as much money as she could though, she had to think of the future.
Staring out the window, she noticed Tommy parking outside, so she rushed downstairs.
“Tommy,” Y/N greeted him. He had been to London, but barely stayed for a night. “How was your trip?”
Tommy hesitated for an instant. Under different circumstances he would’ve shared the new business Mr. Churchill had mentioned at their meeting, but he thought Y/N already had enough in her plate to add anymore pressure. He was still deciding how to manage everything with the Russians and until he got clearer instructions he’d try to keep her out of it.
“Good. I still need to go back next week though.” He followed Y/N into the kitchen, placing a small paper bag on the table. “Brought you something.”
Y/N filled two cups of the tea she started earlier and as she was about to take them to the table, Tommy rushed to get them from her hands.
“I can walk around with them, Tom. I’m only pregnant.” Y/N chuckled at his sudden protectiveness.
“Yeah, what if you feel dizzy? You could burn yourself.” He added worryingly.
But Y/N was busy drooling over the bread Tommy brought.
“Well?” Tommy gave her a long look as he added sugar to his tea.
Y/N looked up at Tommy with her mouth full, the bread was so good!
“Oh! Right… I just wanted to ask if you’re still good with the idea of me living in Arrow House? I don’t want this to cause you troubles with someone.” She took a deep breath and stared down at her hands.
Tommy blinked a couple of times in confusion. “Problems with who? What do you mean?”
It was hard to put her feelings into words, the right words as a matter of fact. Lately she had been having lots of big feelings, lots of things to be afraid of…
Y/N moved nervously. “I’ve never been noisy about your personal affairs Tom, and I don’t want to be in the middle in case you’ve a-a you know… a woman in your life.” She admitted, her voice trailing off by the end.
He squinted his eyes, not quite believing what he just heard. Then he started laughing, a loud, genuine laugh. “This is ridiculous, you’ve nothing to worry about.”
Only then, she dared to look at him, to read his expression.
“Is this what’s keeping you from accepting? Y/N, look,” Tommy took a few steps towards her, his hands found their way to her cheeks to make her look at him. “I’m going to help you no matter what. Just tell me if you accept or not, I’ll take care of the rest.”
They have had each others back over the years, and now it wouldn’t be different.
“I do need to ask you for a favor though.” Y/N folded her arms. “I will need that job you offered me as secretary a while ago.”
“But you’re pregnant.” He protested.
She was already shaking her head. “I don’t want your pity or charity, I need to work.”
With a sigh, Tommy found himself nodding in agreement. She was stubborn and wouldn’t stay still for too long.
“Deal. Although if you feel sick…”
“I’ll take it easy, I promise.”
This time, it was Tommy who pulled her in for a hug, grateful because Y/N accepted the help he was offering genuinely.
“What made you change your mind from your initial decision?” He asked with curiosity.
Y/N took a sip of her tea, feeling grateful after noticing her stomach was taking it nicely. “My grandma helped me see it through. This is the most decent offer I’ll probably get.”
“So you’re accepting because it’s your only option?” Tommy teased.
“Shut up.” She shoved him slightly on the shoulder.
She still needed to send a letter to Lady Winchester to let her know she wouldn’t be able to return to work. Until now she had lied and said she got sick and didn’t want to risk her, but she needed to digest this upcoming change first.
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Later that week, Y/N had officially moved into Arrow House. She didn’t own many things other than her clothes that her grandmother managed to take from her house, her hairbrush and a small bag that Polly gave her. So here she was, on her way to an unknown future full of uncertainty, but with a little baby growing inside her. And the incondicional support of the people who were so close to her heart.
Everyone in the Shelby family had been nothing but kind and welcoming to her, offering to help her carry whatever she had on her hands, telling her how they would welcome the baby with a peaky cap and defend her from cruel comments.
Her eyes danced around, she still gasped at the sight of the spacious foyer, the only difference she noticed is that it now had more furniture and different curtains.
“Mary.”
“Good evening Mr. Shelby, may I take your coat?” A maid welcomed them, moving fast to get the coat from him, she then pointed at the briefcase. She even had uniform!
“This is Miss YL/N, she’ll use the guest bedroom I asked you to prepare.” Then he turned to face Y/N. “Mary will help you with everything, please make yourself at home.”
“Nice to meet you.” Y/N admitted with a smile, but deep down she was in shock to see that a maid was practically guessing Tommy’s every move.
“Of course Mr. Shelby.” The maid gave her a subtle look, but didn’t ask any more questions. “Follow me Miss.”
Turning around, Tommy changed his mind. “Actually… Mary take her suitcase upstairs, Y/N come with me.”
Feeling overwhelmed, she followed him, crossing a huge room, Tommy explained her it was his office, he was holding the door open for her to walk in.
“An office! Look at this place… it’s bigger than our kitchen and living room together.” Y/N couldn’t believe this, she took her time to take everything in; the impressive desk, the endless bookshelves -some where still empty-, the fireplace. “You got a painting?!”
Tommy looked down, understanding her surprise. “Is it too much?” Sometimes it all felt surreal to him.
Y/N didn’t think it was her place to point wherever it was or not too much, he could do whatever he pleased with his wealth.
“It’s just I’m not used to all of this.” She shuddered.
There was something different sparkling in his eyes. It was like she was watching the boy with big dreams and killer smile all over again.
“Yeah… me neither.”
Tommy took a long puff of his cigarette, but Y/N wrinkled her nose.
“Are you feeling sick?” He noticed the sounds she made, she was holding her stomach with one hand.
“I think it’s the smell of the cigarette.”
“Shit.” Tommy opened the window and curtains to allow some fresh air to get in and then he stomped his almost untouched cigarette on the ashtray. “Better?”
“Thanks.” She then chuckled. “Sorry I don’t want to be a burden for you.”
“Hey it’s fine, it’s just a cigarette.” He waved at the air to keep the smell from concentrating in the room.
A knock on the door caught their attention, Y/N even jumped in her seat a little.
“Mr. Shelby, dinner will be ready shortly.” Mary announced.
He nodded and asked for a glass of water for Y/N.
“This feels so surreal if you ask me.” She made a funny face that made him laugh.
“I guess I’ll get used to it.”
Pouring some whiskey into the new glassware set he got, he thought about it.
“Look at us.” Y/N said absently, her face moving towards the ceiling. “Who would have thought you’d get a place like this and I’d be expecting a child without a male support.” She rubbed a hand on her still non-existent bump.
Tommy clicked his tongue and gave her an offended look. “What about me?”
“You know what I mean.” She added after noticing his eyes fixed on her.
“How about dinner?” He offered his hand to Y/N. “Let’s see what the chef prepared. Ey?”
Earning another chuckle from Y/N guided her towards the opposite end. A huge table set just for them.
“There’s another painting!” Y/N pointed through gritted teeth.
A huge portrait of Tommy hanged immaculately on the wall. She could barely keep up with the things going on in her life, but it seemed to be surprise after surprise with his own news.
“Just ignore it.” Tommy suggested taking his place at very end, right under the painting. “I needed to spend some money.”
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Rolling her eyes at him, Y/N joined him unsure. “Where should I sit then?”
Patting the place next to him, Tommy stood up. “Right here, next to me.” And he held the chair for her, like a true gentleman. A gesture no one had ever made towards her.
“Are you sure I can’t sleep downstairs? I’ll take me forever to walk down… image how I’ll roll down once I get all heavy?”
The image of her swollen stomach invaded his mind for a second, Tommy stopped with his hand holding the glass midway, until he shook his head a little.
“You always love to exaggerate it, it’s not so big.” He added as come back.
“It’s huge and you know it.” She added just before the maids brought their plates.
Y/N was about to take a bite of her food when she noticed something.
“Tommy.” She whispered, making Tommy lean forward. “Do they have to stay there and stare? This is awkward.”
Tommy laughed freely.
“Mary, would you give us a moment?”
“What if you need-”
“I’ll call you.” He interrupted.
She was surprised to see them following Tommy’s requests in a heartbeat. They were eager to please him in every possible way.
“This is insane, they’re watching your every move.”
Tommy chuckled unsure of what to say, he was still trying to adjust to this new lifestyle, trying to be part of a select club to fit in the upper class.
“Well I’m paying them a ridiculous amount of money.”
“You know what I mean.” She stated smirking.
He did, of course he did.
This was the kind of things people like he and Y/N could only dream a few years ago.
“Just enjoy it, you’ll get used to it.”
He smiled at his friend, understanding her confusion. A major change like that in his life didn’t happen overnight, it took time and a lot of effort to built the fucking empire he now owned. It was about damn time that he started getting a small luxury like that property or the service for the place.
Y/N had to admit the food was delicious, she had never tasted anything better than that meal.
“I’m really proud of you.” She expressed as they finished. “It’s like you made your dreams come true, you made it out of Small Heath not from the back door, you made it through the main gate.”
Tommy swallowed hard, Y/N was the only person that had celebrated with him the small victories just as the big ones. He was lost for words, to realize that she felt proud of him meant more that he could express.
“Would you like dessert?” Mary asked folding her hands.
Turning to face Y/N, Tommy realized the way her eyes sparkled. “Just one for her, please.”
She groaned. “This is going to be a problem, you’re going to make me put on some weight with all of this food.”
“Well you need to feed that baby.” Tommy leaned his elbows on the table.
“You don’t even know how grateful I am to have you in my life, you’re saving our lives.” She touched his arm.
“That’s what friends do.” He chuckled as he saw her mouthwatering expression over the plate.
A few moments later, Tommy walked her towards her bedroom.
“This is insane, a small living room inside my bedroom?!” Y/N couldn’t believe how spacious it was.
“There’s the walk in closet, and this additional wardrobe, the vanity… everything you might need.” He added pacing around, slowly. Hands hiding in his pockets. “I think you will particularly enjoy this.”
He then pointed at the window seat. Y/N gasped in surprise, she hadn’t noticed it.
“Woah… Tommy.”
When she turned around, Tommy noticed the tears in her eyes.
“Hey what’s wrong?” He stepped closer.
“You’re just so good to me, I can’t thank you enough for providing a roof to sleep under.” Y/N sobbed.
Her vulnerability broke him. It tore him apart to realize how hard this was to her. His arms found their way around her immediately.
Emotions coming out in the form of tears.
“Y/N… talk to me.”
“It’s just…sad to see my own family doing this to me. The days I spent at Watery Lane, they never went to ask how I was doing.” A sudden sob interrupted her explanation. “To check if I needed something.”
He didn’t know what to say, her family’s message was clear and he could only imagine how she was feeling.
“But you’ve my family,” he offered rubbing her back, “we’ll be with you every step of the way. Try to forget about it, you need to be calm.” He then took a step back, but kept touching her arm, “Think of your baby.”
That seemed to do the trick, because his words made Y/N smile.
“You’re so right.” Y/N took a deep breath. “Scott made his choice and so did my family. From now on it will be this baby, me, Grandma, you and the Shelby family. That’s all I need.”
A half smile appeared on her face. He knew the process wouldn’t be easy, it’d take her some time to rebuild herself, but she had the determination and courage to carry on with whatever obstacle life decided to make her face.
A flash back ran through Tommy’s mind, he went back to the warehouse and he could still hear Scott’s pleads for his life. The blinders had been playing with him for a while and Tommy took his time. But when he faced him, Scott’s eyes were fully swollen, an ugly lip cut and several bruises all over his face.
“You thought you could fuck off like a rat?! Ey?!” He shouted in his face, yanking his hair so Scott could be face to face with him. “Thought it would fun to mess around with Y/N?”
A twisted smirk appeared on Scott’s lips, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Tommy so he moved his hand back and hit him hard across the face with his fist several times.
“This is for fooling Y/N.” Tommy announced and kicked him.
“And this for not taking responsibility over the baby.” He kicked Scott between his legs this time. “Fucking coward.”
Now, with Scott lying on his back groaning in pain, Tommy stepped over him, holding him by the shirt with one hand. “And this for telling me to fuck off.”
It took three blinders to make Tommy step back, he was determined to finish him. He had to take deep breaths through his mouth from the exertion and adrenaline rush. His heart was pumping so hard and fast against his ribs.
“I want you out of the city and you better never come back. Because next time I’ll fucking kill you.”
End of flashback.
“You’re safe now.” Tommy helped her gently to sit on the edge of the bed. “You can have a new beginning here with your baby. I can assure you, you’ll get everything you need.”
Tommy offered Y/N his handkerchief.
“You deserve everything good in world Tommy.”
She knew that he meant every word, and most importantly, he’d keep his promises.
“Now have some rest, you’ve been through a lot.” He groaned as he stood up.
“At what time should I be at the office?” Y/N asked when her friend reached the door.
“8:00 o’clock,” he winked, “but I’ll drive you. Good night.”
As she thanked her best friend one more time and wished him good night, Y/N stared at the spacious bedroom. It was unbelievable, a dream she was afraid to wake up from.
Her heart still felt heavy for not having her family’s support, but in some way she felt secure and protected under Tommy’s wing.
And for now, that was enough.
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Part 4
Master list
Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @lau219 @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @lauren-raines-x @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @red-riding-wood @lovemissyhoneybee @theendlessvoidofdarkest @wannabeperfectionists-blog (can’t tag) @yeppaweshallsee (can’t tag) @skydisneylover (can’t tag) @holacia3 @galactic3a (can’t tag) @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @ietss @abaker74 @natalie--rushman @elliaze @justrainandcoffee @teawonderfultea-blog1 @galactict3a
311 notes · View notes
orikiys · 8 months
Text
✿ ✿ 〞safe place
✰ pairings: ot8 x fem!reader
✰ genre: romance, comfort, angst with fluffy ending
✰ warnings: reader has long hair, mentions of cursing and just reader having a hard time at the start, mentions of food
✰ word count: 3.6k + words
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✿ . . plot
growing up, your parents taught you various things about whom to trust, how to save money and how to cook, all things like that. but there is one thing that still makes you hesitant… don’t worry. they said, don’t worry just take a deep breath and relax yourself, everything will eventually work out and being the obedient child you were, you always listened to them because things do work out.
but then why were you feeling as if you weren’t real? as if everything, every person, every feeling that you ever experienced felt like a scene from some novel? what is this feeling? you couldn’t name it; but you hated every bit of it. you hated how your chest hurts and even after rubbing it several times, there’s still a feeling as if there is a rope that is tied around your neck. a rope that’s strangling you and making you feel more and more anxious. you glance at your phone with a blank face, while your mind was facing a war, there’s still a text from him asking about what you were doing. you haven’t replied to him yet.
with a glance at the clock, you wrap your arms around your plushie tighter and close your eyes, trying to settle down this unknown emotion of restlessness. you try to think of him, think of good memories that you created along with him, you try to think of his smiling face and of his words that never fail to make your heart flutter. you needed to hold back until he comes back home and you return back in his arms.
౨₊ৎ chan
when you and chan first started dating, chan was everything you could ask for. he knew what you needed without you saying it, he knew what you liked, he remembered it and had it written down in his journal. it made you feel loved and secure, the two things that you always longed for in a relationship.
chan never failed to make you feel better, he talked to you and listened to your problems intently, as if trying to read between the lines and trying to figure out what went wrong. but with him away on a tour, it was hard. it was even harder to tell him anything mainly because you didn’t want him to worry when he already had so much on his plate. you never want to burden him with your worries. neither do you like to pitied, so will try you keep your emotions to yourself until he comes back.
but looks like that plan is unsuccessful the moment your phone rings and you see his video call. with a soft grunt, you sit up and set your hair before accepting the call.
there he is, sitting on his chair while wearing his signature black hoodie and a wide smile on his face.
“hey sunshine, how are you doing today?” a sentence from him is all it takes for you to break down and hide your face with your one hand and try to get out of the camera’s frame.
“what’s wrong?” his voice is calm, but you know he’s trying not to show his worry to scare you.
you chuckle, trying to brush it off by saying, “it’s nothing just missed you.” but he knows you very well. he knows you well to figure out something is seriously wrong, because until now you would’ve usually spammed him with texts or photos of what you did.
there’s a silence as he just stares at you through the screen before sighing out loud, “i know i’m pretty far from you right now, but you can tell me what’s bothering you anytime. anytime you want, and i’m serious. i don’t want to force you to say what happened so i’ll just talk about how my day went.”
he begins talking about his day, about what he did and what things reminded him of you and what things made him miss you. there’s a smile on his lips, but there’s worry clouded in his eyes, which you pretend not to see and just nod in amusement as he continues to list the things he did.
an hour later, when the two of you hang up, you receive a text from him. it’s a video of you in a garden sitting on a swing and laughing. it brings back a flood of memories from where it started, and you feel like you’re too distracted by the memories that the feeling you had in you earlier, has resided long back. it never fails to surprise you how he can make you feel the real you. with him, there’s no need to pretend. it’s just him and you. he tries his best yo understand how you feel, and considers your feelings sincerely. it’s his love for you that reassures you to not worry. because things eventually do work out.
౨₊ৎ minho
when minho saw you sitting on the couch half- dazed out he knew something wasn’t right. judging the way that even after being home for fifteen minutes he was just welcomed with a nod, it made him sense that something was very wrong. even after cooking your favourite food, there was no smile on your face and it made his heart burn.
without a single word, he heads upstairs. minutes later a shout from him his heard, telling you to head upstairs. so you do and upon entering you could feel your eyes blur as you look at the little pillow castle he created along with a laptop and a pack of chips.
“it was time for movie night anyways,” he sheepishly utters, while maintaining a casual look even though on the inside he is nervous for your reaction. a small smile from you is all it takes for him to return the smile twice as bright along with a hug. it’s the feeling of a warm embrace. that peculiar look of love on his face. perhaps it is also the way his hands are in your hair. but mostly, it’s his eyes that shine with adoration. those eyes that can speak a thousand words and even without anything communication there is still laughter that could be seen.
“do you feel better now?” his voice is calm and you know he’s trying not to force you from the way his fingers trace patterns on your palm.
“yeah, thank you so much,” you mumble and press a soft kiss on his cheek making him smile at you lovingly.
“do you wanna go out for a walk?” he questions suddenly making you look at him in confusion. he gets up while grabbing your hand. and when you nod, he doesn’t hesitate to drag you along with him while running as fast as he could, making you chuckle at his enthusiasm.
it was 11 in the night, yet he still is as energetic as ever. there’s an evident smile on his face as he swings your hand together with his, while walking down the isolated streets. there’s a silence, one that often gets interrupted because of some vehicle honking in a distance, but at least he’s there with you. right when you needed him.
with a fond look plastered over your face, you watch him talk about his day and about some of his annoying colleagues that managed to make his mood go sour. it’s amusing to see the way he takes one glance at you and changes the subject every five minutes, trying to keep your mood up.
౨₊ৎ changbin
“babe? it’s okay, just let me in?”
how long had it been since he had been knocking on the door using every persuasive writing key points he learned in elementary school to convince you to open up the door, but you were stubborn as ever and refused to even budge it a bit. you don’t exactly remember how you both ended up like this. was it because of it felt anxious to show your emotions fully in front of him? or was it the way you thought that he would think you were a crybaby?
“go away, please.”
you try to keep your voice firm, but it cracks the moment you hear him let out a deep sigh and try to coax you, he knew he can’t leave you alone, especially when you’re having a rough time. so he stays there for a moment, trying to think of something that will make you open up.
you and changbin had been dating for over 4 months now. all these 4 months were getting to know each other better and spending time together and eating and cooking together. it was fun. it truly was. with him, you felt like you could actually crack jokes and laugh as hard as you wanted to because he would never judge you. then why were you hiding your feelings from him?
being the type of person, who doesn’t like to share their problems with anyone else, it felt weird when he started asking you how your days were or if you were eating well. soon you got used to it, but you had no clue what to do when you would break down while he’s with you.
“baby? i don’t know what’s troubling you. is it me? or did anyone say something to you?” he questions softly while you try to muffle your sobs.
he waits for a reply, a sniffle, anything and instead hears the click of the door which makes him sigh in relief. he is quick to wrap you in his embrace and caress your head making your body shake from the sobs.
he stays like that for around five minutes before pulling away and cupping your face. he wipes your tears with his sleeves and looks deeply into your eyes.
“i don’t want you to ever lock yourself like that, okay?” he scolds you, but his soft tone says otherwise.
“you had me worried so much baby, if you’re not feeling well, ever, i repeat ever, just call me.”
though he couldn't see it, a soft smile tugs at your lips as you press a kiss to his furrowed brow. he was your safe place.
౨₊ৎ hyunjin
hyunjin drops your favourite chocolate over your lap, before nestling in beside you. wordlessly he copies your position and curls himself on the couch while staring at you. you don’t look at him. you don’t even try to acknowledge his presence, but you can feel it. the scent of his shampoo after he just came from a shower, it’s so familiar and smells like home which makes you sigh in content. even without doing anything and just by staying by your side he manages to provide you with comfort.
“did you miss me?” he cocks his head playfully while grabbing hold of your hands and manages to catch your attention.
“is that even a question?” you retort back making him chuckle.
it’s almost comical how at ease you feel just by his touch, his presence and his words. if there’s one thing that hyunjin is good at which never fails to amuse you, is the way he tries to act according to your moods.
if you’re happy, he’ll match your vibe and take you out on a late night convenience store date. if you’re angry, he’ll buy you some chocolates and snacks and remain patient for your anger to reside. and if you’re sad ( like today), then he’ll just listen or talk depending on whether you open up first or not. it’s not just the way that he loves being with you, but it’s the way that he puts in the efforts to understand you. to understand what’s wrong rather than acting immaturely. so in this relationship, he was the mature one, though at times he loves being babied as well.
“want to talk about it?” he whispers carefully, while glancing at you through the corner of his eye.
with a nod you delve into a ramble about everything that happened in detail. it doesn’t take long for him to begin adding his comments here and there as well. it makes you feel as if someone does observe you. as if, someone does listen to you.
“sorry, am i boring you too much?” you asked in a small voice, confused as to why he suddenly stopped adding on his thoughts.
“i could never be bored. you know why? it’s because i could literally do nothing and sit here, listening to your voice for hours,” it’s not the first time he’s ever said things like these to you and yet, they never fail to make you speechless.
“i need a cuddle,” he changes the subject swiftly and you laugh, “why are you so cute today?”
“i’m cute everyday,” he replies with a blank face as he turns to glance at you.
“i love you, you know that right?” you say with a wide grin on your face and wrap your arms around his neck, squeezing him to death.
“i love you too, but i won’t allow you to kill me,” he huffs.
and there’s a good thing of being with him and eating your favourite pack of chocolates. it’s the best combination in the world. and you wouldn’t want it any other way.
౨₊ৎ jisung
“… are you okay pretty?”
jisung was busy on his phone, when he heard a sniffle, followed by another before he looked up to see you standing before the kitchen counter, clutching the counter pretty hard and with your shoulders shaking.
there’s no reply from you and he grows even more concerned. quickly making his way next to you, he silently shuffles and stands behind you, with his head resting on the crook of your neck and hands wrapped around your waist.
he has no clue what’s wrong but he hates this. he hates seeing you cry, regardless of what the reason might be. it breaks his heart even more when you hold his hand tightly and sob without looking at him. and he hates this so, so much especially when he sees the way you try to hide your tears from him. the least he could do was to be there for you when you feel low.
“i’ll be fine,” you mutter, trying to reassure him but he doesn’t budge even a bit. he stands there, glued to his spot, and just stares at you in worry. it’s almost as if he can read between the lines. i don’t want to be a burden, don’t waste your time on me. it makes him feel as if he failed. as if he failed to assure you that you could rely on him, he feels so frustrated because he loves you so much. he loves you so much that it he can’t help but cry along with you.
upon hearing his sniffle, it’s you that turns around shocked to see him already looking at you through tears. you chuckle weakly as he kisses your nose tenderly.
“why did you have to cry? no i’m crying too,” he whines and tries to wipe his tears but they keep flowing.
jisung had once made this rule of what’s yours is his too, looks like he took it too seriously. he takes away all your pain, all your sorrow in minutes. and you can’t even believe yourself sometimes, of how lucky you are to have a partner like him.
“you’re so silly,” you huff and wipe his tear.
“we’re so silly.”
he wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer, nudging your forehead with his.
౨₊ৎ felix
“she really said that to you?” he voices out his disbelief, as you continue telling how your friend just said something unacceptable.
“i can’t believe this. baby, you need to confront her about it, okay? whenever you’re ready,” he murmurs while pressing a kiss to the side of your head and staying in that position for over a minute.
“she’s my friend though,” you trail off when he sends you a stern look. “friends or not, she can’t just say things like that to you.”
when it came to felix, the most important thing was respect and care. he believed that caring and respecting others is the best way for bonding. even though some people might beg to differ, it’s his personal opinion. and when it came to you… he gets engulfed in this strange, unfamiliar feeling of the need to protect you and keep you safe.
be it even the least harmful ones like just bumping your hand on the wall, keeping the water warm for your bath since you hated it cold and many things that never failed to make your heart flutter.
“are you hungry by any chance?” he asks, while ruffling your hair slowly before brushing them back to make them untangled and gets up, almost about to head to the kitchen but still patiently waiting for your reply.
“it’s fine,” you send him a small smile, making him nod and disappear into the kitchen. minutes later, he returns back with two bowls of ramen and wordlessly places on in front of you and begins digging in.
“i didn’t see any dishes in the sink,” he muttered while glancing down at his bowl, making you pick up your bowl as well.
you found it different. different in a good way, how just talking things out with him is so easy. you don’t have to lie to him. you don’t have to hide your emotions from him. you’re an open book to him. and so is he to you.
౨₊ৎ seungmin
you just wished that you could disappear, if not for long perhaps at least for a day. the way your head is throbbing after your previous break down session is literally the worst feeling in this world (except when your favourite chocolate runs out of the store).
you squint and look around for your medications, but it’s too far away and you don’t even think you have the energy to even speak. but somebody else is faster. a certain someone who’s been watching you closely since the moment he heard you sniffle.
seungmin walks towards you and bends down before handing you a tablet and a glass of water. you give him a small smile and gulp them down together.
“you’ll feel better soon. do you to head to the bedroom to get some sleep?” he murmurs softly and keeps an arm on your knee out of habit.
“it’s fine, i slept in the afternoon anyways,” you reply, making him nod to himself.
there’s silence for a moment before he leaves the room. you look back up when he returns but with a book in his hands and a knowing smile on his face.
he plops next to you, and makes you rest your head on his lap.
with an arm across your stomach and the other holding the book, he begins reading it to you.
you don’t realize when exactly, but in this moment right now, you could feel as if you were bursting out of happiness. out of love and immense affection for the man named kim seungmin.
౨₊ৎ jeongin
“are you asleep?”
it’s been a few hours since he came back home and there is no wonder that he noticed the drastic change in your mood. he didn’t want to point it out thinking you needed time for yourself, but now it was making him feel guilty. he felt guilt creep up into him for not asking you and making you deal with your problems alone.
“not really,” you whisper back and he nods, the action producing a soft sound from the friction of the pillow. a minute later, you toss and face him. his eyes are fixated on you and there’s a sleepy smile that crawls over his face but it drops in an instant when he remembers about your mood earlier.
sighing softly, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and rests his hand on the nape of your neck. “i’m sorry for not asking you how you were feeling when you were clearly having a hard time.”
his voice sounds so… sad that it breaks your heart. you shake your head twice before telling him, “you just did what you thought was best. and it did help me clear out a bit of my head. just forget it, i’ll forget it too.”
he tucks his arm under your head and pulls you into his chest, “i’m sorry.”
jeongin didn’t know what to do except for comforting you at the moment, words were forming very slowly in his head and your answers were almost convincing which made him annoyed knowing how carelessly you brush away your feelings.
“do you want to talk about it?” he asks with slight hesitation, his voice no louder than a hushed mutter.
when he receives a nod from you, he smiles to himself and lets his eyes fall shut as he listens to you intently.
your voice slowly trailed off and when he looked down to see your eyes shut, he kissed your forehead gently and tucked the blanket around you properly. at least at the end of the day, he didn’t let you be on your own.
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PERM TAGLIST: @taeriffic 🗯️ @hello-2-u-from-me 🗯️ @ilychee08 🗯️ @sleepyleeji 🗯️ @spacegirlstuff
446 notes · View notes
auteurdelabre · 3 months
Text
Please, Mister Miller Sequel: Part 6 BFD!Joel x f!Reader
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words: 18k (yeah. That's right)
summary: It's Graduation Day and your parents are here... so is Joel...so is an unexpected visitor.
tags/warnings: age gap, infidelity mentioned, p in v, unprotected sex, angst, fluff, namecalling (slut, good girl, sweet girl), oral sex (f receiving), Daddy-kink in parts, public-ish sex, voyeurism, mentions of childhood trauma, shitty parents, clothes ripping, lovingmaking, reader has hair Joel can grab.
a/n: over 18,000 words on this fuckin' monster. If I don't get some damn good reviews I'm gonna riot. In other news, FUCK the next chapter is gonna be a goddam monster too... unless I break it into 2. We'll see. What do you wanna see happen?
masterlist here
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You wake on graduation day with a knot in your stomach and you know exactly why. The text you received last night. You pick up your phone, eyes scanning the brief message and sighing deeply.
[MOM]Just got in. See you at the ceremony tomorrow. Be sure to wear the dress. 
You look over at that ridiculous dress, a totem of innocence and purity and you want to laugh. Innocent? Pure? What a joke. If only she knew the photos of Joel you have on your phone, or the absolutely depraved things you’ve done with him.  
As if you’ve summoned him, a text comes through.
 [HIM 💜] Can’t wait to see you, bby.
You smile at your phone.  You can almost hear his deep voice, the rasping purr.
Can’t wait to see you! xoxoxoxox
Though after the stress of seeing my parents I’m gonna need a massage.
[HIM 💜] Deep tissue? Swedish? Internal?
Oooh Deep Tissue followed by internal please. Lol.
Sarah wakes soon after positively vibrating with excitement. 
"I can't wait to see Charlie!" She shouts, jumping up out of bed. "And I can't wait to travel this summer!"
You force a smile but you can't deny you're envious about Sarah's summer. Yours is bound to be a solitary one living back with your parents.  You need to get a job back home to help pay for school in the fall.
Perhaps Joel will come and visit you back home once in a while? Or perhaps tonight will be your last rendezvous? It's hard to think of how it can continue, despite what Joel says. He can't exactly come over and meet the parents can he? And your parents will likely have a very close hold on you, wanting to introduce you to the right people, trying to convince you to switch your Masters degree for something more profitable.
Despite how well off your parents are they have made it clear from the start that you'll make your own way in the world. But that’s fine by you because you have scholarships and you’re a hard worker. Living at home means saving up money. Saving up money means moving out away from them.
But until then, it’s long, solitary days back in Chicago with your family.
Sarah gives a stretch before falling onto your bed with an oof. She sits, knees touching yours and smiling broadly.
“We’re almost graduates!”
“I know!”
And funnily enough out of everything with your parents, it’s not that which upsets you the most. It’s the fact that will be no Sarah to look forward to in the fall. No more giggled nights over cheap beer or joined study sessions helping the other make flash cards.
She’s become a touchstone to you. A person whose Snapchat's and text messages through the summers made life bearable when your parents were too much for you. Whose soup delivered to your beside during sick days at school made you feel taken care of. The roommate who dragged you to parties to make you socialize and subsequently introduced you to Conrad, who for a short while made you very happy.
Without Sarah you don’t know who you would be today.
"I'm going to miss you so much," Sarah says gently, her large eyes teary. 
"Same here," you say, trying to swallow the tremor in your voice.
"I can't believe we're just gonna suddenly not live together," she says, chin wobbling and the sight of it makes it impossible to stop the tears that slip down your cheeks. 
“I know,” you say and now the tears are free flowing and the words you’ve never voiced come out wobbly. “I’ve never had a friend like you. A best friend.”
Sarah lets out a choked sob and the two of you collapse into a sniffling hug that makes your heart swell. You finally pull back long enough to brush the tears from your eyes, the two of you laughing at how emotional you both are. 
"You're gonna be traveling all over South America all summer," you remind her with a watery smile. "You won't have time to miss me."
"I will so!" Sarah insists with a friendly push to your shoulder. “I’m gonna get you something really nice too!”
When you put on the white dress later that morning you're struck that you're the vision of chaste. The lace sleeves, the ruffles, the high neckline. It gratifies you greatly when you pull on the most scandalous panties you own, red completely see through. They tie at the hips and they barely cover anything. 
You pull them up over your hips and lower the dress over them. The fabric is so thick they can't be seen, but you will. 
And soon Joel will too. 
///
By the time the ceremony starts hours later you're almost shaking with nerves under your robe and mortarboard. The rasp of the dresses ruffles at the shoulder make you twitch. 
Sarah is seated next to you, her eyes scanning behind you. You know she's looking for Joel and Charlie. You already spotted your parents near the back of the large auditorium looking as dour and bored as they always have. 
"Oop there he is!" Sarah murmurs as the Provost drones on at the podium. You glance at her before you allow your eyes to drift in the direction she's looking. And there he is, seated beside a beaming Charlie, is Joel. 
Your Joel. 
He's so handsome you could cry. His hair is longer and curled, looking so soft you want to leap out of your seat to run your fingers through it. He's wearing a button down and he's grinning at both you and Sarah. When she turns around to face the speaker Joel casts you a sly wink that has you flushing. 
You feel his eyes on you through most of the ceremony, and when you go up after to collect your diploma you hear his clapping and shouting of your name over the crowd. To anyone else he looks like the supportive parent of his daughter’s friend. But when you cast your eyes into the crowd and see his beaming smile, you feel the pride from where you stand on the stage.
Soon enough the ceremony is over and you and Sarah are official graduates. You give her a tight hug after you toss your caps into the air. You both give yelps as the caps fly around you, laughing as you find yours before handing her the one next to it on the ground. 
"Gonna go find my dad," she tells you as you give her one final squeeze. You nod watching her rush through the bustling array of people in search of the man you cannot wait to hold and kiss.You slip through the crowd until you find your parents still seated and looking at the passing crowds with distaste. 
You take a deep breath, swallowing before you approach them with a tentative smile.
"Hello Mom, Dad." 
The two of them stand simultaneously, giving you a once over before your mother gives you a detached embrace. She’s likely trying to see if you’re wearing the dress she insisted upon. Your father pats your shoulder companionably.
"Congratulations," he tells you with a thin smile. "Graduation with honors."
"Thank you," you say, surprised with the compliment. 
"Not valedictorian," he reminds you quickly. "But I suppose there was lots of competition."
Your mother says nothing and you just nod, wanting this interaction to be over as quickly as possible. You notice now that your father is holding a small wooden box with a bow on it. He thrusts it at you.
"Take this and be sure to take care of it."
"Yes sir," you nod, taking the small box from him. You open it up to see an ornate fountain pen sitting on the velvet. "It's beautiful. Thank you."
It’s hideous and nothing like your style. You don’t even write by hand anymore unless it’s for the word jumble. Just another example of how little your parents know about you.
"We'll go to dinner," your mother tells you. "Afterwards we'll collect your things and you can come to the hotel with us. Our flight is first thing in the morning."
“Oh, I thought I was going to spend one more night here at the dorms,” you say, a bit of panic coursing through you. “To finish up packing and everything.”
That had been the plan. You and Joel would have dinner with your families and then meet up at the hotel he sent you. You can’t do that if you’re with your fucking parents at some fancy hotel near the airport.
“That’s a waste of time and I don’t want to be late for the airport,” your mother says with a frown. “You were to have finished packing last night.”
“I underestimated how much I had to pack,” you defer, trying not to sound as concerned as you feel. “I’ll take a taxi to the airport early tomorrow, I promise. I won’t hold you up.”
Your mother goes to deny this request but your father holds up a hand, making her flinch.
“If she’s paying for her taxi who are we to tell her no?” your father says with a shrug. “Let her.”
Your mother silently stews, shaking her head in a short nod. This entire scene is simply a precursor to what awaits you this summer. Their strained marriage, your strained relationship with them. It’s a nightmare.
Moving back home feels both terrifying and humiliating all in one. You hated being under their thumb, but you can't afford rent and school. And despite what they say, you want to pursue your schooling. It makes you happy. It's a small sacrifice to secure your future. 
You nod, head held low. It jerks up when you hear your name being called. You glance over your shoulder. 
Fuck. 
You feel your anxiety grow when Sarah, Charlie and Joel approach. 
'I'm so glad that's over!" Sarah says with a laugh. "I don't want to think about how many people wore this gown before me."
You smirk at this before turning to your grim -faced parents. 
"You know Sarah," you say to your them, noting that Joel hangs back a moment, watching the scene. 
"Of course, hello Sarah," your mom says as your dad gives a tight smile to your roommate. They've seen Sarah plenty of times in the background of your sporadic video calls home.
"This is her boyfriend, Charlie," you say and the shy Charlie offers a timid wave in reply. Your father is looking over Charlie, noting the slump of his shoulders, the shy way he doesn’t make eye contact. You’re positive they’ll have something scathing to say about him during dinner.
You notice Joel staring at you and then your parents. You try to hold back the flush starting at your cheekbones. His hands are at his side and he finally approaches the group, his eyes on your parents.
"Uh, and this is her dad, Mister Miller," you say softly, unable to make eye contact with him. For some pathetic reason you want this to go well. You want them to love Joel as much as you do.
"It's Joel, sir, ma'am," Joel says, all southern manners as he shakes each of their hands. He brushes by you to do so and you can't help but inhale his cologne, dark and spicy.
"Pleasure to meet you," your mother says with a quick once over of what Joel's wearing. When she sees no obvious designer labels you can tell she's already written him off. 
Your dad however is intrigued by Joel's appearance, being the only other man in a group of women. He gravitates towards Joel with a little smile on his face. 
"So what do you do, Joel?"
"I run a renovation business with my brother," Joel answers with an easy smile that shows his dimple. You melt. He’s so fucking gorgeous. Your father gives a look of clear disapproval at his answer. 
"Just the two of you?" 
 "Ten years ago it was just the two of us and now we oversee a staff of twenty," Joel answers breezily able to overlook your father's open judgment.  He’s a humble man, not one prone to bragging. But you know what he’s trying to do, to disarm your parents, to make them like him. And the thought of why he’s doing that has your stomach spinning delightedly.
"Self made man, I respect that," your dad says nodding and you have to stop yourself so you don't beam with pride over at Joel. 
"S'how I was raised," Joel shrugs with humility. 
"Same here," your dad says with an approving nod. "Built up my law firm from nothing. Now we're one of the biggest in Chicago."
"Impressive," Joel says even though you know he couldn't care less.
His eyes dart to you briefly before landing back on your father. He’s likely noticing how different you are from your parents. They’re all cold, serious calculation while you are smiles and blushes and easy affection.
"Wish you boyfriend took a page for Joel's book here," your dad says with a look in your direction. "That Conrad was raised with a silver spoon firmly lodged in his mouth."
The smile you had on your face falls immediately. You feel your hackles rise up when it feels like all eyes suddenly drift over to you.
Why are they still bringing up Conrad?
"Conrad and I broke up months ago."
"That's what you said at Christmas too," your mother says with a sniff, digging through her purse for her lipstick. "Then by January it was on again."
Your jaw clenches tightly. This is a classic family maneuver, making you feel insecure in your decisions.
"I'm sure you two will find yourselves back in each other's arms soon enough," your father says not bothering to hide his displeasure at the thought. He covers it with a false laugh that your mother smiles politely at.
"I can promise you I won't," you say with a tone bordering on a growl. You're just thankful you haven't seen Conrad at graduation all day. 
"I sure hope not," Joel murmurs surprising you all. Even Sarah glances over at this in surprise and you feel Joel's panic. His eyes widen a fraction before his mouth curls into a displeased line and he shrugs.
"Just from what I heard from Sarah I think you deserve much better."
Sarah shoots you an apologetic expression to which you reply with an an embarrassed half shrug. You’re not upset that she talks about you with him. If anything it’s sort of sweet.
"Anyway I better be gettin,' Sarah and Charlie here out to dinner," Joel says taking your hand in his a moment. "Happy graduation to you."
You feel your heart flutter, willing the blush in your cheeks to die down. 
"Thanks, Mister Miller."
He gives you a subtle wink before bidding farewell to your parents. Sarah pulls you in for another tight hug. 
"Promise me you'll come out and visit me when I get back."
Your eyes fly to Joel behind her shoulder for only a moment before you're nodding and smiling back at her.
"Definitely."
“If she’s not busy playing around in school that is,” your father laughs from behind you before turning his attention on your roommate. “Sarah, you were studying… what again?”
“Computer Sciences,” Sarah answers hesitantly.
“A good career path,” your dad continues, despite everyone in the vicinity being uncomfortable. “Much better than Anthropology. Might as well be Philosophy for all the decent paying jobs it’ll get you.”
Your eyes are wet before you can stop them. You cringe visibly, gaze on the ground as they always are when your parents are around. They have the uncanny ability to make you feel so impossibly worthless, so misunderstood, so unseen for who you truly are. 
You can’t even look at Joel you’re so ashamed. You must look so pathetic to everyone.
"Sarah why don't you and Charlie go get the car," Joel murmurs to her with a gentle smile as he hands her the keys to his rental car. "I'll be there in a sec." 
Sarah shoots her dad an inscrutable look before shrugging and taking Charlie's hand and Joel's keys. She casts a worried look at your face before she breaks from your group. You watch them disappear into the crowd before your eyes draw back to Joel and suddenly the levity from his face is gone. 
He steps towards your parents, dropping his voice. This is a Joel you rarely run into. An angry Joel that’s quiet voice is more terrifying than a shout or scream. The quieter he gets the more nervous you become and right now his voice is a soft purr.
"Now I'm normally not one to tell a man how to speak to his kid, but you're being downright shameful to yours."
Your stomach swoops in both elation and terror. You want to kiss Joel senseless for sticking up for you, but seeing your dad's brows rise has you staring between both of them in shock. 
“What did you just say?” your father asks, convinced he’s heard incorrectly.
“I said you're talkin’ to your daughter shamefully,” Joel says speaking slowly and enunciating as if your father is slow. Your mother gives a small gasp at this, her hand going to your father’s shoulder. He shakes it off, his face pinking all over as he glares at Joel.
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Your dad seethes. 
Your dad takes a step towards Joel, used to people backing down from him at work. But this isn't his law office and Joel has a good three inches on him, not to mention biceps and broad shoulders that would easily pummel your father to dust. 
He pauses when Joel steps forward as well, your boyfriend not backing down a fraction. 
"Sarah's known your girl for years and we had the pleasure of having her to ours this Christmas," Joel tells your father, looking thunderous. "She's a delight."
"Not so delightful for her parents," your mother chimes in. "You wouldn't understand Mister Miller. Your daughter clearly has ambitions and-"
"And yours doesn't?" Joel bites back. "Sarah told me she wants to be a professor." 
Sarah told him no such thing. It was you who told him during your time together. He looks over at you, concerned that he got that incorrect. 
"That right?"
"Yeah," you nod, trying not to smile. Joel looks back at your parents and his gaze turns cold again. 
"'Side from that, your daughter is smart and talented and funny as hell," Joel sneers at your parents. "And that's nothing compared to her warmth and her heart. And now that I've met you both I don't know where the fuck she got that from."
You are officially fucking Joel Miller's brains out later. Right after you stop the tears pricking the back of your eyes. 
"She doesn't need people like you in her life," Joel continues and you know he's saying this part for your benefit despite glaring at your parents. "She's a strong, independent woman that doesn't need anythin' other than herself. And if you both don't get your heads straight, she's gonna walk right outta your life and never look back and it’ll be your loss." 
Your parents can only stare at him and your father, always so quick with a harsh comment or jab is silent. His face is so red it's almost mauve. His hands are at fists at his side. Your mother looks like she's about to faint. 
You however feel as if your heart is overflowing with your love for Joel in this moment. 
Joel turns his eyes on you and you pray no one can see the burning passion he holds for you in that gaze because it seems so obvious to you. 
"You wanna grab dinner with us?" Joel asks you, jaw clenched. You know he desperately wants to hold you, to bring you into his arms. 
"No it's okay," you tell him with a gentle smile. "You have fun with Sarah and Charlie."
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
You see the concern in his dark eyes, the searing depths of his affection. But he's aware that you know your own mind and so he just nods, giving you a small smirk before he's heading away from you. 
"Take care." 
The second he's out of earshot your parents are tripping over themselves to talk. 
"That rude man!"
"Uneducated idiot."
"Did you see what he was wearing? And the way he spoke? Positively barbaric," your mother spits, readjusting the purse on her shoulder and shooting you a levelling look. 
Joel’s broad shoulders are disappearing into the crowd, but as if he can feel your gaze he turns. He sees your eyes searching for him and he darts his gaze to your parents, seeing they’re both facing you. He gives you a gentle smile and wink and then he’s gone, leaving you warm and strangely emboldened.
"I don't want you anywhere near that family." 
You turn to face your parents who are still fuming about Joel and for some reason you suddenly see them for what they truly are.
Small. 
Joel made them small. So small that it seems foolish you were ever afraid of them at all. So small that is laughable to think that they have any control over your life. You owe them nothing. They give you nothing but pain and a love that is built on toxicity.
And suddenly it's so easy to sever that tie between you and them. 
"Enough about that horrible man," your father grumbles. "Dinner reservations are-"
"I'm going back to my dorm," you inject with a smile, feeling strangely light. "You two enjoy dinner."
"Excuse me?" Your father is exasperated with everything that has gone on. You see it in the tired look he’s giving you. “Since when?”
"I don't want to have dinner with you," you tell them, unable to stop your smiling from growing. "Either of you. So you two go on. Enjoy." 
You've never spoken back to them like this. Never with this serene calm, this positively cheerful countenance. You feel your phone vibrate in your purse and you just know it’s a message from Joel. The thought makes it even easier to stand there staring them down.
Your parents gape at you as the crowd of students mills past, looking at your beaming face. It's your father that speaks first. 
"This disrespect you're showing your mother and I is disgusting," he spits. "Your sister-"
"Heather isn't here," you tell them so sharply they wince. "And I'm sick of being compared to her."
You've never mentioned Heather’s name to them. Not in all the years since your sisters death. You've felt too guilty, too scared.
But no more. 
"Hey now," your dad begins, his face falling. "We never-"
"I'll never be Heather and that's fine because I'm me," you say over him. "And I don't need the two of you trying to tell me that's a bad thing." 
They both stare at you, your mother's jaw is actually dropped, almost cartoonishly so. You realize that this is it between you and them. They brought you into the world and they've made you regret it ever since. They’ve punished you for surviving that car crash instead of Heather. You're done with them. 
You thrust the pen and the wooden box it came in back at your father. He takes it in slow shock, as if what's happening is a dream.
"So go enjoy your dinner," you tell them. "And have a safe trip back."
You take the phone from your purse as you stride from them. They call your name but you ignore them, your eyes are already on the text from Joel. 
[HIM 💜]: Same hotel as last time. Room #461. Give your name at the front desk. Come when you can. Can’t wait to hold you, beautiful girl.
///
You sit at the bar of the hotel a short while later. Your overnight bag is at your feet and you're still wearing that stupid dress front your parents because you wanted to rush over here. You'd been so desperate to see Joel, to feel his arms around you, his mouth on your flesh. 
But then as you strode into the hotel and saw the trendy looking bar you decided that a drink was necessary. A celebration for how you stood up to your parents. And then something Joel said months ago tickled the back of your brain. A comment that has stayed with you. 
“Do you think we could pretend for this week? That I'm not married, that you're not my daughter's friend? That we met in a bar one night and found each other attractive and just wanted to spend time together gettin' to know one another?”
You smile as you sit at the bar; legs crossing before you order a gin martini from the bored looking bartender. You pull out your phone, typing hurriedly amongst the chatting patrons and jazzy music over the speakers.
I’m at the bar downstairs.
[HIM 💜] ??
Come down. Dress nice. Xx
Joel walks into the dimly lit bar minutes later, his eyes traveling the length of the space until they get to your face. The smile that breaks out nearly makes you faint at the sight. But you maintain your composure, pretending you don’t notice him until he’s right beside you.
He’s so close you can smell his freshly applied aftershave and the soap he used to wash this morning
“Hey bab-“
"That seat is free for now,” you say coolly pointing to the leather stool next to you. Joel gives you a confused smile, crooked and endearing.
“Huh?”
“Look like my date is running late," you tell him in a flat voice, taking a sip of your drink.
Joel looks a bit offended at your cool tone and lack of smile.
"But perhaps you could keep me company until he arrives."
Joel's mouth curves into a smirk as he catches onto the little game. His eyes dip down the length of your body before he backs up a few paces. He adopts a more seductive look, his eyelids lowering a fraction.  
"Hello there, my name's Joel Miller," he replies in a husky purr as he takes the seat next to you at the bar. "And you are quite possibly the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen."
"I accept the compliment Mister Miller," you say with a calm nod, trying not to giggle at the characters you're both playing. You want to play this out as long as possible. There’s something hot about the people around you not knowing you two are together.  
"Call me Joel," he replies gently. He holds his hand to you and you take it, noting how warm his tender grip is, how sweetly he rubs your knuckles with his thumb before gently dropping your hand when you pull back.
"Alright Joel," you reply breathlessly. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Pleasure’s all mine,” Joel assures you, eyes raking up and down your form before settling on your eyes. “Pardon me for sayin’, but your date is a fool to let a woman as gorgeous as you sit here alone for more than a second."
“Quite forward of you,” you say with a cool raise of your brow, trying to suppress your smirk. The bartender comes over and takes Joel’s order, quickly sliding him a whisky before going to attend to the other patrons.
“So what’s a beautiful woman like you do for fun?”  Joel inquires, taking a sip of his drink.
"Oh I haven’t had much time for fun. My day today was especially taxing," you tell him, swirling the toothpick and olive in your martini glass in what you hope is a seductive manner. 
"Oh yeah?" Joel is practically purring. "Tell me all about it."
"Well, first off, I graduated with honors today."
Joel gives an impressed whistle as if he’s not completely aware. "Sexy and smart? Damn, baby, you're somethin' else."
You grin, feeling your cheeks pink in delight.  
"Then my parents started in on me right after the ceremony," you say rolling your eyes. "And just when I was gonna fall apart, my boyfriend just let them have it. He told them off. I've never seen anything like it. My parents just stood there and it was so inspiring that when he left, I told them off too."
"Really?" Joel breathes, his face midway between concern and amusement. 
"Mhmm. And it felt amazing. So amazing that I wanted to come to this bar and celebrate." You give Joel a sultry look. "Then you came up to me and well, here we are."
Joel smirks cheekily and you feel his hand come to the back of your bar seat.  
"Can I tell you somethin’?" Joel asks, lowering his voice so you have to tilt closer to hear. His full lower lip grazes your earlobe when he speaks. "Every man in this bar is hoping you'll go home with him."
He pulls back, his pupils expanding rapidly. You let your hand fall to his knee, rubbing gently as you give him a grin.
"Oh, I'm very discerning," you say coquettishly. "I won't go home with just any man. He has to be the right type. Older, handsome, smart, sweet... The whole package."
You watch Joel's golden cheeks turn pink at the compliment. He takes a deep pull off his whisky. He leans back in his bar stool, looking at you tenderly.
"So Miss Genius who graduated with honors. What's next for you?"
"I'm starting my Masters in the fall," you say with a proud smile as if Joel wasn't already aware. "Got a really good scholarship too. Just have to work a bit too save up for the rest."
"How're you gonna do that when you're in school?" Joel takes another sip. 
"Oh, it's all online," you tell him as you drain your own glass. "A lot of them are now with everyone's schedules and how hard it is to make ends meet."
"It is?" Joel says and you can tell he's dropped a bit of the act. "I didn't know that."
"Yeah I needed it to be online so I can work at the same time," you explain, then your brow furrows as something occurs to you. Joel notices immediately.
"What?"
"Oh it's just... I just realized I also need to find a place to rent," you say more to yourself than anything. The character you've embodied slips away from you and you blink rapidly." My parents sure as fuck won't be welcoming me back with open arms after what I said to them. And even if they did I don't want anything from them."
Joel looks at you a long time, his fingers tracing absently along the bar top. He looks like he wants to say something but he holds back. 
"But that's not exactly first meeting in a bar kind of talk," you say, lowering your hand to fall atop his and you let your voice drop to a seductive purr. "Tell me about yourself." 
“Whadda ya wanna know, beautiful?”
You cross your legs the other direction, facing him more. You notice his eyes flit to your bared legs and then back to your face.
“Well your accent isn’t from around here so what brings you to our fine city, Joel?”
“Here to watch my daughter graduate,” Joel says with a gentle swirl of his drink. “I’m from Texas.”
“You got anyone special in your life, Texas?”
“I do,” Joel nods, eyes like burning coals. “This girl I’ve been seein’ that I’m just crazy about. Can't get her outta my head."
"The sex must be great," you giggle with cheeks flaming. 
"No words," Joel admits with a dimpled grin. "But s'not the sex that does it for me."
"No?"
"Nah," Joel shakes his head. "See, she's real smart. Startin' a Master's degree in the fall."
"Wow."
"She's not just smart," Joel shrugs, taking another pull from the bottle. "She's gorgeous too. Fuckin’ stunning."
He watches your eyes drift to his collar, suddenly shy. This emboldens him, makes him lean closer again until his whisky-soaked breath lands in huffs against your cheek.
"I miss how she smells," Joel continues. "I never told her this but I went to the mall and got a bottle of the perfume she wears. I spray it on my pillow from time to time just to make it feel like she’s there." 
"You do not!"
"I do," Joel chuckles. "Never smells the same as when she wears it though." 
Shit, you can feel your eyes watering.
"And when I talk to her she's the first person who's really listened. She doesn't just nod and wait for her turn to speak. She's the first partner that's ever really wanted to take care of me." 
Partner.
"You're easy to take care of," you murmur. "I assume," you add hastily, not wanting to break character. 
"So's she," Joel tells you and his face sobers. "The kinda woman I would die to take care of. But I worry. I'm pretty old-"
"Not old-"
"And she's got a whole future in front of her,” Joel says and the levity is gone from his face. “I worry I’d hold her back from it. Hold her back from a lot.”
It takes all your resolve not to throw yourself into his arms right this second. Instead you give him an impossibly gentle smile, leaning your face closer to his.
“You said this woman is smart,” you reason, feeling your pulse flutter. “I think she knows exactly what she wants. And from what it sounds like, she wants you, Joel.”
Joel gazes at you a few moments, his finger absently tracing the rim of his whisky glass.
"You know you're a beautiful woman," he murmurs in a sultry tone, his eyes lowering seductively. "And this may be forward but I'm staying at this hotel and I'd love to take you to my room." 
You smile.
"I'd love that, Joel."
///
You’re in each other’s arms seconds after opening the door to your room. Joel crashes his mouth against your and you leap into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. He licks into your mouth as he stumbles the two of you towards the bed.
He lowers you gently to the floor, giving a lingering kiss to you before the ruffles of your dress rasping against his shirt distract him.  
“Such an innocent looking girl in this dress,” Joel muses, his wide hands sliding down the white fabric as he smiles. “Who’re you tryin’ to fool, baby?”
“I didn’t pick it,” you huff a laugh. “They did.”
The amusement is immediately gone from Joel’s face. Without warning Joel’s hands are at the neckline of your dress. You frown up at him before gasping as he rips the fabric brutally. It tears down the middle, exposing your breasts.
“Joel!”
He turns you around, ripping the skirt from it as well. You’re left in tatters of fabric and you watch as ruffles hit the carpet slowly before looking up at him and laughing. He grins at you, throwing some of the remaining lace fabric in his hands onto the floor.
“Joel,” you laugh loudly. “What the fuck?”
“You don’t have to wear what they tell you to ever again,” he promises you. “You don’t have to listen to another goddam thing they say. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.  You’re your own woman. And when I take you to bed I’m fucking you, sweet girl. Not some virginal doll version of you that they’ve created in their heads.”
You shiver in anticipation as you feel his warm body behind you, still clothed. You feel Joel’s hands come to your waist, holding you.
“My good girl fucks like a champ,” Joel whispers against your ear. “And she loves my cock doesn’t she?”
“Yes,” you sigh.  
“She likes fucking in public,” Joel continues, hands coming to cup your breasts from behind. You feel his hips rubbing against your lower back, cock hard and waiting for you. “She gets wet bein’ a bad girl.”
“Fuck, I do,” you whimper, letting Joel take control of your movements as you go boneless against him. “I really do.”
“That’s who I’m taking to bed,” Joel reminds you, pulling the remaining tatters of your clothing off your body until you’re standing in nothing but the red panties you picked out. His eyes are drawn to them, a smirk bleeding over his face.
“And look at that,” he says as his hands slip down the front. “She’s already wet for me.”
“Always.”
He kneels in front of you and unties your panties at the hip, groaning appreciatively as they flutter to the ground. You’re naked before him, and you feel his eyes take in every square inch of flesh. You hear his clothes fall to the ground in a rustling heap.
His mouth is on your pussy before you even register what he's doing. You feel your body tensing before his large hands come to hold your thighs in place.
"Such a pretty pussy," he groans, delving deeper between your folds. You feel your legs begin to tremble. He begins giving you exquisitely probing kisses between your thighs, chuckling when you begin to tremor.
"Please Joel," you beg quietly. "I need your cock."
He gently ushers you to the bed onto your belly before bracketing your hips with his thighs. Joel's fingers move to the back of your neck, curled into your hair. He moves it up, out of the way so he can press long kisses to the bare flesh of your neck. 
"My girl loves gettin’ fucked," Joel grunts out above you. "Ain't nothin' virginal about her." 
He groans against your shoulder as he slides into you, hips slowly pressing against the swell of your ass. You sigh, allowing yourself to be pressed into the mattress. You’ve missed this. And judging by his poorly stifled moans, Joel has missed it too.
"Such a good girl," Joel coos, coating himself in your copious arousal. "She missed me."
"Uh huh," you whimper out because all of you has missed Joel. Not just your body but your heart, your mind. You can hear him smile behind you as you thrust yourself back on his length.  
"Such a pretty girl," Joel murmurs as he pulls out and then slowly pushes himself in again. He kisses the top of your spine, tongue trailing over your flesh as you moan below him. Your wrists are held by him, resting at your lower back. Your face is tilted, cheek on the sheets as you moan, your vision growing blurry. 
You can only writhe under him, body flailing with pleasured arches. Silent screams to keep going to go deeper. Nothing is rushed, everything is tempered and slow and deep. He fills you up so fucking well, so achingly patient.
"She likes having this pretty pussy full 'a me," Joel says as if he has to remind you. "Don't you, baby?"
"Yes yes yes."
"Look at you," he marvels as he stares at you. His free hand slides down your spine, petting you like a cat. You smile drunkenly over your shoulder, watching his hips flexing as he continues to drive himself into you. "You need more, honey?"
You can only give a weak nod, going down on your forearms, presenting yourself to Joel to use. 
"Yeah, she needs it harder," Joel murmurs, you feel him flexing, cock sliding through your folds as you whine brokenly. Your head falls forward as your face screws up, brows saddling. Joel’s hot breath is at your ear, his voice a husky purr.
“What do you think your parents would say, knowin’ I’m balls deep in their sweet, innocent girl?” Joel murmurs, tongue coming to trace the shell of your earlobe. “What would they say knowing how you sucked my cock and begged for my come that first time?”
Your body twitches in arousal at that.
“What would they say if they knew their precious little girl was on my camera covered in my come an’ callin’ me Daddy?”
Joel continues to move so slowly within you, extending the pleasure to an almost unbearable level as he glides in and out of your drooling cunt. Joel's fingers begin to circle your clit as his cock thrusts into you.  
"Baby," you offer, voice sluggish. "You feel so fucking good."
"Naw sweet girl," Joel says running his nose against your cheek. "That's you. You make me feel so goddam good." 
You know what he's not saying and it's not just the sex. That being together feels good. That clinging to one another feels good. That just existing in this moment with each other feels so fucking good.
"Needed this cock didn't you?” Joel asks, hips starting to rock into you with more abandon. "Needed me to take care of you."
His hips are slapping against your ass now, making your eyes cheat to the back of your head. The slapping sound is so visceral, so overtly sexual.
"Yes," you manage to articulate.
"Needed my come?" 
You can't even answer that, you just let your eyes shut and feel as the climax courses through your body, making you cry out in broken sounds as Joel fucks into you. You milk his cock as you come down, body boneless. Joel continues, his hips driving forward over and over until-
-a knock at the door sounds.
You hear Joel curse behind you, his body stuttering to a stop. You give a high whine, head twisting to see him over your shoulder. His face is red, his forehead dotted with perspiration. He pulls out of you slowly before reaching for his pants.
"Dinner," Joel says raggedly. He kisses you again before pulling back, going to retrieve the tray whilst trying to hide his erection as you hold back a laugh. 
“But you didn’t come,” you remind him, as if it weren’t painfully obvious. Joel gives a breathy chuckle before kissing your sweaty cheek when he returns.
“Plenty a’ time for that, baby.”
Dinner is a steak for each of you with a side of fries, salad a charcuterie tray that Joel thought you’d like. You take a seat on the end of the bed with him and the two of you eat, chatting away about Joel’s flight over here and how he feels about Charlie (bumpy and he’s a good kid).
A short while later when everything is digested he removes the champagne from where it sits over ice and offers to pour you a glass. You’re struck by his thoughtfulness, of all the trouble he went to for you.
“Joel this is so sweet of you.”
“It gets sweeter,” Joel says with a grin. He lifts one of the silver trays and you smile when you see chocolate covered strawberries for dessert. Joel pours you each a flute of the champagne before handing you yours.
"To my genius girlfriend," Joel toasts, clinking his glass to yours. "And her extremely bright future." 
"To my impossibly sweet boyfriend," you say smiling dopily. “And his huge heart.”
The two of you sip your champagne, letting the bubbles tickle your tongue. He holds the plate of strawberries out to you but you shake your head. 
Joel watches as you place your flute down on the floor before crawling into his lap. He gives a soft chuckle before you're nestled in between his legs. He drains his champagne glass, placing it on the side table. 
"I want a different dessert," you breathe, urging his large hand between your legs and gently rocking. "Is that okay?"
His fingers curl into you, finding you wet and waiting. Your thighs spread, giving him better access to penetrate you deeper with his fingers. 
"Yeah, that's okay," Joel breathes against your skin. "S'your big day, baby. You tell me what-"
Before he can finish the sentence there's another knock at the door. Joel freezes as if remembering himself. He tugs your robe closed. 
"Put on some panties," he urges you. "Your other gift is here." 
"Another gift, Joel? And one I need panties for?"
"Trust me," Joel winks at you. "Now put on panties like a good girl even though we know you're anything but."
He swats your ass playfully as you sit on the edge of the bed; watching Joel turn the corner and hearing him open the door.  You pull on and re-tie your red panties once more, listening as your boyfriend opens the doors to two strangers you can barely make out in the mirror.
"Oh I thought they were sending two ladies," Joel said, his rumbling voice a twinge irritated. 
"So sorry Mister Miller, our usual girl called in sick,” a small redhead says with a concerned look. “Gus is all we had available. But I know you specifically requested deep tissue and he is the best.”
Joel pauses and then nods. “Alright then. Lemme help you with the tables.”
All southern manners Joel brings in the woman’s table despite her protests. You watch as the two  masseurs dressed in white pants and white t-shirts set up their tables, bringing out lotion and a portable speaker.
“We’re here for your couples massage,” the woman says grinning from you to Joel. “We hear you’re celebrating your graduation.”
“I am.”
“Congrats,” the man – Gus – says with a patient smile in your direction. “You must be glad it’s over.”
“I guess not glad enough,” you laugh. “I start my Masters in the fall.”
The woman is small with large eyes and a smattering of freckles over her nose. Gus is tall with blonde hair and the straightest teeth you’ve ever seen. He comes over to you with a charismatic nod of his head.
"I take it you’re the one who likes deep tissue?"
“Yes.”
"My name is Gus, I'll be your masseur today. Please let me know if you have any problems with the treatment.”
You see Joel eyeing you from where he stands by his table.
“Greta and I are going to step into the bathroom to give you both some privacy to undress to your comfort and slip under the sheets. Any questions? No? Alright then." 
The two of them head into the bathroom, closing the door behind them. You shoot Joel an amused look before the two of you undress to your underwear. You can’t help but let your eyes linger on Joel’s broad naked back as he lays himself on the massage table. He sees your peering as he pulls up the sheet to his waist.
“You gonna stare at me all night?”
You give a sheepish smile before climbing onto the table next to his, raising the blanket up to your shoulders before spinning onto your stomach.
Greta and Gus emerge when Joel calls out that you’re ready. The lights in the hotel room are dimmed and your eyes shut. The scent of lavender washes over you, the oil warmed by Gus’ hands. At the first stroke along your back you give a soft sigh, enjoying the feel of your muscles being taken care of.
You sneak a glance to see Joel laying with his eyes shut tightly, looking more in pain than anything. You hold in a laugh before closing your eyes again and surrendering to the calming sensation of Gus’ large hands on your body. 
The massage is divine. So much so that you can't help the little mewls and groans that escape you when Gus hits a particularly good spot. You didn't realize how tense you were.
You hear Joel give a few coughs during the massage, but you barely notice. Greta murmurs something to him and he shakes his head. She nods and you hear Joel give a soft groan when she gets to his lower back.
You’re not the only one feeling good and this pleases you greatly. Joel works so hard, he deserves to be spoiled. With Gus' strong palms pressing into your shoulder blades along with the lavender scented oil you feel transported. 
The hour goes by too fast and when the masseurs tell you to relax before getting up you want to cry. You wanted it to keep going on and on.
"Thank you so much," you murmur to Gus, your voice dripping with gratitude.
"We'll just step outside so you can get dressed again," they tell you and Joel in quiet whispers. "Please take your time standing."
You make a soft sighing noise before you feel Joel’s hand skimming along your spine. “That feel good?”
“So good,” you groan, allowing him to help you off the table and into the robe. He sashes it for you before giving you a kiss. He walks over to the door, allowing the masseurs to enter back into the room. They hand you both a glass of water that you drink eagerly.
"We hope you enjoyed your treatment."
“We did,” you enthuse sleepily. You feel so good right now, your limbs heavy in a sleepy way.
"Your boyfriend is so thoughtful," Gus murmurs as he packs up. 
"Mhmmm," you say with a wide grin. "I'm very lucky." 
You and Joel watch them pack up their things before they’re heading out. When the door is closed you flop down onto the bed, your body so relaxed. It feels heavenly to be touched like that, your muscles soothed.
"You liked that?"Joel says in a deep voice.
"Yeah, felt amazing." 
"Yeah?" Joel crawls over to your side of the bed, eyes primal. "I didn't."
Your eyes crack open to see Joel inches from your face. His dark eyes are blown black, his mouth curved into a tight smirk. He throws a leg over your waist, straddling you, his weight heavy and pressing you into the mattress. 
"What didn't you like, Mister Miller?"
"Watching that man touchin' you," Joel murmurs, eyes on your waist as he unties your robe.
A fire flames in you at the jealous tinge of his voice.  You’ve never really known Joel to be jealous. Even with Conrad he’d been more territorial by the end. But having Joel jealous . . . it’s kind of a turn on.
"He was just doing his job," you say rolling your eyes. 
"He was taking his time and starin'," Joel says with a sheepish grin. "I saw him."
"You were watching me the whole time? Weren't you just enjoying your own massage?" You ask with a laugh. 
"I did both."
You break into a fit of giggles as Joel's face breaks into a guilty grin
"He was just doing his job," you repeat and almost laugh at the petulant jealousy Joel is displaying. 
"I know," Joel says with an embarrassed flush over his cheeks. "I just hated watchin' another man touch you and you makin,' those noises for him."
His hands gently throw open your robe, displaying your breasts to him. He makes a soft noise of appreciation, hand sliding up your ribcage to cup them. You shutter when the thumbs drag along your nipples and they pebble tightly under his touch. 
"I wanna be the only one making you feel that good," Joel continues, amusement clear in his face when you begin to start squirming under his touch. 
"No one makes me feel as good as you do," you assure him, feeling his cock resting heavily on your belly. "No one."
You groan as he removes the robe from his body before pinning your wrists at either side of your head on the pillow. 
"Yeah?" Joel cocks his head to the side, smirking. "I think you need to remind me."
"I'll show you every fucking day if you let me," you groan, hips rolling under him. 
"Gonna need you to show me now," he says against your mouth.
"Joel you know I don't want anyone else," you tell him breathlessly. "I just want you."
"Yeah?" Joel's smile is genuine. 
"Yeah," you nod, "No one fucks me like you do," you tell him. "No one takes care of me like you do."
"I love takin' care of you," Joel admits, palms cupping your breasts again. He dips his head and rolls his tongue over a stiffened peak and groans when you shiver. 
You smile gently as he pulls you to a stand beside the bed. He removes the robe from your shoulders, leaving you beautiful and naked for him. He kisses your shoulder blade reverently, his hands slipping down to cup your ass.
He takes a moment to appraise your exposed flesh before he turns the lights off in the room. You wonder what he's doing when he's taking your hand and guiding you to the large window overlooking the darkened city. 
"I'm the only one who takes care of you," Joel murmurs as he twists your body around, facing you to the window. "And I want everyone to know it." 
The night is dark; the world dotted with streetlights, restaurant bistro lights, the warm little squares of nearby hotel rooms. 
"See them down there?" Joel asks, pointing to the people milling down on the ground below you. 
Its groups of patrons down several floors smoking and chatting near the entrance to the hotel bar. Several of them are smoking cigarettes or inhaling vapes. One girl shrieks and stumbles on her heels.
"Yeah."
The people below talk loudly, some tossing their heads back when they laugh. 
"You think any of 'em has seen a better pair of tits than these?"
His hands cup your breasts, thumbs grazing your nipples. You shiver, knowing that when Joel's voice drops to that dark baritone something is coming. He kneads your breasts, his mouth coming to kiss your neck, beard tickling the sensitive flesh there as you sigh. The sound of muted laughter breaks you from your reverie. 
"Joel someone could see-"
"Maybe," he teases before nibbling gently on your earlobe. "Maybe not."
His fingers are teasing your nipples into hard points, twisting gently until you whimper. Your cunt throbs, anticipation and fear coursing through you. 
"Bet if they can see they're thinking how they'd love the chance to fuck this sweet pussy," Joel continues, hand sliding to slip between your legs, fingers curling into your dripping cunt. 
"But they don't get to, do they sweet girl?" 
You rock against his touch, desperate for the friction. Your hand reaches behind you and goes to his neck as you lean against him, face tilting to his. 
"No," you promise him, head falling against his shoulder. "Only you." 
"That's right," Joel rasps against your cheek. "Only me." 
 Your eyes dart down to the group below and you pray that the darkness of the room shields you. You feel Joel hard and twitching at your lower back. He's getting off on this in a major way. 
"Let 'em see what they can't have," Joel whispers against your ear. "Let's show 'em what's mine." 
Joel's robe which had been shielding you slightly is pulled back from your body. You stand naked, framed by the large window. Your reflection is there, gazing at you like a sultry twin. You twist away from the cool glass, your cheeks flaming. 
"Joel-"
"Shhhh," Joel soothes, kissing the top of your head. "S'okay baby. I got you." 
His hand comes to your jaw, forcing you to keep your face pointed to the window. Your cheeks burn but you're so wet. You feel his body pressing into yours, herding you closer to the window. 
"That's my girl."
He continues like this, pressing you further against the window until your breasts are flattened against the glass. It's cool, and if your nipples weren't already pebbled they would be now. 
You allow yourself to be tilted, shifted, your stance widened and your pelvis pressed against the window. Your eyes remain on the figures below, terrified that they'll look up and see you naked and arched.
You hear Joel's robe fall to the ground and know that he too is naked behind you. His wide hand comes to cup your pussy and you whimper, eyes falling shut. You feel him notch himself at the entrance to your cunt. 
"Be good for me, now." 
Joel slides up into you, the two of you groaning in unison. He makes you feel so full, so deliciously stretched. His fingers begin to worry your clit, tapping and rubbing as he thrusts into you against the window before withdrawing. 
"Joel one of them is looking up," you say, even though the people are far away and they could be very well looking at any of the number of hotel rooms. 
"What do they see, baby?" Joel groans, shoulders rolling as he slides his fingers along the slick of your clit. 
"They see us," you groan, cheeks flaming. 
"Uh huh," Joel coos, cock teasing your entrance. "They see you takin' my cock like a good little slut." 
This sentence causes your knees to almost buckle and if not for Joel's body pressing you against the window you would have collapsed. 
"I want them to see how good my girl looks when I'm fucking her," Joel grunts out, pressing your body against the glass. Your pebbled nipples smoothed against the chilled surface. 
"They can't fuck you. Only me."
You whimper before Joel is sliding all the way once more, making your breath come out in little shudders. He picks up the pace, watching as you crest, and your orgasm washing over you. A small one, an appetizer. 
You wonder what the people below will see if they look up. A bit of movement in the darkness? Or a young woman pressed luridly against the glass while a broad shouldered older man pounds into her relentlessly? 
"They're watchin' me fuck what's mine." 
The possessiveness in his statement hits you directly in your cunt, causing you to moan lowly. Joel pins your hands to the window under his, both of your palms flat as he drives into you to the hilt.  
"You're all mine," Joel groans. His chin is on your shoulder, digging there. "Say it."
He thrusts brutally into you, his hips unrelenting. You're momentarily distracted before his voice is in your ear, hot and urgent. 
"Say it, baby."
"Say what?" 
"Say you're mine. I wanna hear it."
His hips are starting to thrust so hard it leaves you breathless, body jolting against the cool glass. It feels so good, so grounding. He presses all of him against you, your body flat against the window and he fucks up into you. His breath is hot at your temple, stirring the hair there. 
"I'm yours," you cry out. 
"Again."
"I'm yours, baby," you keen, hands slipping down the window, your body going boneless. Your cheek is shifting against the window, your now damp body squeaking against the glass. 
"Louder." 
"Yours," you punch out as Joel's mouth sucks at your jaw. Every word is now punctuated by Joel's snapping hips you pelvis smacking into the window. "Yours! Yours! Yours!"
He smells so good. Like sweat and the spicy cologne he wore at graduation and the lingering scent of the lavender massage oil. You want to wear that smell on you every day for the rest of your life. 
His breath is hot and damp on your neck, teeth scraping against your jaw. Your breasts are pressed tightly against the glass, showing your naked body off to anyone who can see this high up. His fingers rub your clit in gentle circles, palm pressing into your abdomen. 
"Again," Joel groans, his hips slamming into you, arousal soaking his length. You're pinned between his gyrating hips and the window. "Say it again."
"Joel I'm yours!" Your voice is cracking as your orgasm starts to creep up on you. "I'm fucking yours! I have been since Christmas!"
You're getting so close to another climax, you're almost there.
"You only want me and my cock" Joel groans, his hands on your hips now as he fucks you brutally, so much that you jump a bit with each thrust, your breasts rasping against the glass. "I'm the only one who fucks you properly." 
"You know I only want you," you tell him. "I only want you, Joel. I lo-"
You hold your tongue despite everything. Joel knows how you feel, he must. But the first time you told him he convinced you it was just a connection, not love. You don't want to be the one to say it again. 
He grips the back of your neck, forcing your head back and your mouth to graze his. He looks completely fucked out, shiny with sweat, pupils blown, mouth parted. 
"Mine," Joel rasps once before his mouth overwhelms you. His lips slot between yours as you let the pleasure overwhelm your core and tightened limbs. Your cries are weak and converging into whines as he continues fucking you. 
“Mine, mine, mine,” he growls against your open mouth. “Fucking mine.”
You come down moments later, body boneless and quivering against him. You feel like you're consumed by Joel, his arms around you, his body against yours. 
"I ain't done with you yet," he says breathlessly. Before you can say anything he has you in a bridal carry and he's taking you back to the bed. You gaze up at him with adoration, convinced your pupils must be heart shaped at this point. 
I love him. I love him. 
He sits at the end of the bed, holding you tenderly in his lap, body pliant and ready for whatever he'll offer you. You just want to be with him, near him, always. 
His eyes are roving your naked body, the sight of his turgid cock between your legs. He shifts, watching it slip between your lips, grazing the clit. 
"Joel," you sigh if only to hear the sound of it. 
He seems to remember himself at the sound, his eyes on yours. They go to your mouth, fingers gripping your chin. 
"You ready for more, baby?" He asks you, nose rubbing along your own. "Can I give you more?"
His palm trails over your breasts, down your stomach and grazing your inner thigh.
"Yes," you breathe, eyes heavily lidded. "I want more.”
There is a curl at the corner of his full mouth. 
"Be polite," Joel murmurs with a smirk. His mouth trails behind your ear, voice a soft huff. "Ask Daddy nicely, baby." 
Your eyes don't leave his face, even as your ass begins to roll over his hard and weeping cock. His mouth is at your neck, kissing and sucking. 
"Please."
"Please what?" He mutters against your throat. 
"P-please," you whimper shakily. "Please fuck me, Daddy." 
Joel groans low in his chest at the sound. He takes your hands in his; drawing them up, up until they're laced behind his neck. He leaves them there, his broad hands making their way down your arms, your breasts as you arch, your soft stomach and then between your legs. He holds your soft inner thighs and parts them widely. 
Your head tilts back, leaning against his shoulder so you can gaze up at him. He watches you for a moment, eyes tracing your face before he kisses you gently, tongue dabbing against yours as you settle there on his lap, hands on his at your waist.
And now he hooks your thighs over his own, parting both sets of legs widely until you're luridly exposed. Joel's fingertips make a slow trail along the crease of your thigh until they land at your clit. You make a small whimpering noise before settling back against him, eyes shutting in languid pleasure as your head sags forward.
Joel gently pulls your hair, tugging your face up from where it rests against your sternum. The pull is delicious, your heavy eyes staring up into the mirror above the dresser on the opposite wall of the hotel room.
“You're gonna take it like this," he tells your reflection in the mirror. "So we can both see how good you look when you're getting fucked by Daddy."
You whimper and nod, hand splayed over his. Joel is panting heavily behind you, large, dark eyes on yours in the mirror. Your eyes remain on his in the reflection, watching as he helps to lower you onto his cock. From this angle he feels even bigger. You're so slick that when he thrusts inside you think you’ll take him easily, but his size and the angle makes it a strain to take all of him at once. 
"You can do it, baby,” Joel soothes as the stretch makes you wince. You can see the flush over your cheeks, the red in Joel's face and chest. His muscles ripple under his beautifully tanned skin. 
"Be a good girl for me," Joel whispers against your temple. "Make Daddy feel good." 
///
Tess sees rather than hears the two of you first in the reflection of the mirror atop the hotel vanity. At first she's confused when she sees Joel on the edge of the bed facing the mirror. But then she sees the woman in his lap facing away from him, her knees slung over Joel's as he keeps her glistening sex spread wide. 
"That's right," Joel rasps against her temple. "I'm gonna take care of you, baby."
His cock is pressing between the woman's thighs, both coated in arousal as he thrusts. Tess can see his middle and ring finger on either side of the woman’s clit, rubbing gentle circles there.
"You always take care of me," the woman on Joel's lap groans, her thighs flexing as Joel drives himself up between her thighs. "Feels so good."
 When the woman lets out a husky moan Joel's eyes shutter but they never break from the woman. The woman's face tilts and Joel's eyes are so full of adoration that Tess feels physically sick. She watches as Joel's hands move to cup the woman's face. 
"Never felt this good with anyone," Joel tells her softly. "Never."
"Me neither," the woman whimpers before pressing her mouth to his. They kiss slowly, reverently, lovingly even as he fucks up into her. The woman makes a soft whimpering sound, her body quaking as Joel’s cock slides in and out of her. Joel's face breaks. His brows saddle and his thrusting reaches a fever pitch.
"Keep goin'," Joel is slurring. "Uh huh, you take it baby. This is all for you. S'always gonna be for you."
///
You sigh, feeling him bottom out inside you. He lets out a sharp hiss, his hands moving up your body to cup your breasts, pinching the nipples as you moan. He begins to thrust his cock into you, slowly at first, wanting you to acclimatize.
You watch yourselves in the mirror, hypnotized by the way Joel looks as he’s entering you over and over. The way he has your legs spread so wide, so obscene. The sight of Joel’s cock disappearing into your sopping cunt as he kneads your breasts. His eyes are heavy-lidded, but stuck on your face.
“You’re mine,” you tell his reflection, your damp temple pressed against his cheek. “Only mine.”
You don’t feel territorial like Joel, but you want to hear the words from him. There’s something like satisfaction in having Joel say it.
“Yes,” Joel pants, sawing his cock between your thighs. “Only yours.”
Your hands continue to lace around his neck, holding there as he continues to thrust. Your breasts bounce at every jolt, his large hands coming to hold your hips stationary.
"This is your cock baby," he tells you as he pumps into you. "Only you fuck it. Only you."
Your eyes are on his as he thrusts deep and fast, watching your body bounce on his lap, his broad forearms and shoulders caging you against him. 
"Joel you feel so fucking good," you moan, eyes closing as he drives himself firmly into you. "No one fucks me like you do."
"That's right," he purrs. "Because I’m yours and your mine n’ Daddy knows how to make his good girl feel good."
He’s fucking up into you with abandon, his hands on your thighs, keeping them apart. He can’t stop staring at the two of you in the mirror, bodies rising and falling together, slick with sweat, moaning together in some feral symphony.
You feel suddenly shy, your face turning to him, forehead pressing against his cheek.
"No no," Joel commands gently, his fingers gently forcing your face to the mirror. "Look at how good you look takin’ my cock, baby."
His face slides next to you, cheeks pressed together and in the mirrors reflection you can see the stark difference in your expressions. Joel is completely un-tethered, eyes narrowed and his teeth bared in a feral smile as he thrusts into you. It's the view of a man taking what he thinks is his, of possession, of desire. 
You on the other hand are completely fucked out, hair falling into your glassy eyes, mouth hanging open as you make inhuman noises, your naked body jolting with every thrust. You're totally gone, your body his to mold, hands barely able to hold onto his own around your waist. 
"Oh pretty girl," Joel groans heavily into your hair. "You're doin' so good. Keep goin' just like that. Daddy loves those sounds you're makin' just for him." 
"Fuck me harder Daddy," you gasp, bouncing along his cock. "Harder." 
He holds your thighs tightly, fingertips dimpling the flesh as he holds you open for him to see in the mirror and fucks into you even harder. He looks lost watching as your cunt swallows him time and time again, thrust after thrust. Joel cups your tits again, squeezing them together.
"Joel," you whine, pelvis tilting back and forth as you continue crying out at the ceiling. "I don't wanna stop."
"We're not gonna," Joel promises, the two of you falling into a rhythm as he flexes into you. "We ain’t stoppin’." 
He doesn’t know what you mean. That you don’t want to stop seeing him. You look over your shoulder at Joel and you let out a keen when you see how fucked out he looks. You have never wanted him more. 
"Joel,” you groan, eyelids fluttering. "I need to come."
"C'mon an’ be a good girl," Joel urges you; planting a sloppy kiss to your cheek as you two bounce together. "Use your manners."
He's so deep, working so hard that his back is slick with sweat. Your thighs burn as he holds you open but you don't stop, you don't even adjust because the strain adds to it. It makes it feel even deeper, even sharper.  His fingers are on your clit again, sliding and rubbing in the way he knows you love.
"That's my girl," Joel croons against your temple, his mouth breaking into a sinful smile against your hair. "So good for me."
"Please Daddy," you moan. "Let me come for you."
You rise and fall together like the waves of an ocean, his arms wrapped around your middle as your arm goes behind your head, fingers clinging to his neck, your forehead against his jaw. Your hips roll over him, sliding back and forth as Joel fucks into you. You stretch your spine out, back arching and face up at the ceiling as you cry out in high, raspy intonations. 
///
"Please Daddy, let me come for you."
The woman’s hips flex as she rides his cock. Her chest rises and Joel's left hand moves to cup her breast, his fingertips worrying her nipple. Tess tries to make out the woman's face but her hair is in her face. 
"You gonna come on Daddy's cock like a good girl?"
"Yes Daddy," the woman keens.
Tess feels her eyes blow wide at this. She's never heard Joel refer to himself as Daddy, has never had him encourage her to use the term. He's never fucked Tess on the edge of the bed, holding her in his lap and watching their damp bodies writhing together in the mirror. He's never been unrestrained, so recklessly passionate like this. 
Tess registers that her marriage is well and truly over not only because the woman is drawing moans from Joel that Tess has never been able to encourage in him in all their time together. It's because Joel has never looked at Tess the same way he's looking at the woman now. The naked look of reverence and desire mixed in one. Never shown himself to Tess like this, never let himself truly let go.
Tess can see Joel's slick cock sliding out and into the woman's bared pussy, deeper and harder with every thrust. 
“That’s it baby," Joel whispers against your mouth. "Give it all here. Lemme have it and you can have mine. Look at Daddy when you come for him."
She does, face tilted up to him, crying loudly and bouncing in his lap, her thighs spread wide. Tess sees arousal flooding over Joel's stiff cock still stuffing the woman's tight cunt. 
Tess holds in a grimace as Joel grips the woman's hips in his long fingers. 
"You like this?" Joel rasps, fingers worrying the woman's clit as she rides him. "Like me holding you open wide so you see how Daddy fucks his good girl?"
Tess watches the woman’s stomach tighten, sees the fresh gush of arousal around Joel’s cock and knows that she’s come. She gives out a shuddering cry of Joel’s name, her fingernails digging into his hands on her hips. Joel watches her face with a look of naked adoration, his mouth curling into a crooked smile.
“Feel good, baby?”
"Yes," she replies and Tess feels her stomach heave when the two share a soft and tender kiss. 
The woman says something else but Tess doesn't hear it. The woman's mouth moves to Joel's ear and suddenly he's got her around the waist, holding her against his chest as his cock saws in and out of her dripping slot, the sounds obscene in the quiet hotel room.
"You feel so fuckin’ good," Joel grunts, his voice guttural.
The woman moans, hips rolling. Her palm comes to hold Joel’s cheek. "Wanna make you come, Joel."
And she does. Tess watches Joel’s face go pinched, his hands clutching the woman tightly to him as his hips slap against her from behind. Joel moans, his entire body convulsing a moment before he empties himself into the woman. They both groan at the sensation, bodies so tightly pressed as their hips slowly stutter to a stop.
Tess stares at the woman and Joel, her eyes fixed on the debauched view of his come leaking out of her pussy as she sits spread wide on his lap. Joel's eyes won't leave the woman's face and the woman’s fingers lace through his curls at the base of his scalp. 
"I've never wanted someone the way I want you," Joel confesses quietly.
It's not just that comment which infuriates Tess. It's the way Joel's eyes are still gazing into the woman's face. It's an open, loving look without restraint. The woman murmurs something to Joel, something Tess can't hear. And suddenly Tess can't take it another second. She bursts towards them, eyes blazing.
"What the fuck is going on?"
///
You start when you hear Tess ' voice sound out behind you. Instinct tells you to turn around but everything in you stays frozen on Joel's lap as his softening cock slips from you. 
"Tess," Joel croaks. "What are-"
He stops himself, realizing that he's still holding your naked body open wide. You know he's hoping the same things you are. That Tess didn't see your face. 
Joel snaps into action, he grips the nearby robe and wraps it around you. He slips you off his lap, leaving you shaking on the bed as he pulls on his boxers. He stands between you on the bed and Tess standing watching you hide behind him.
Tess stands at the door of the room, her suitcase in one hand and a hotel key card in the other. In your frenzy neither of you heard the beep of the door as she came in. 
"Conference got cancelled," Tess says stiffly. "Thought I'd come surprise you and Sarah. Looks like I really surprised you."
Tess is quiet as you rush off to the bathroom, Joel's come leaking down your leg. You slam the door behind you, leaning against it as you slump to the floor. You can hear their voices outside in the room.
“How did you get in here?”
“I told them my husband was staying here,” Tess hisses back. "Who the fuck was that, Joel?"
"None of your business, Tess.”
You sit against the door, ear pressed even though they're both speaking so loudly you needn’t have bothered.
“Should have known you’d have a little side piece to keep your cock warm.”
“That’s not what she is,” Joel defends angrily. “And you’re not mad at her. I’m the one you were married to.”
 “Were?” Tess says choking down a laugh. “Did I miss something Joel? Last time I checked we still were.”
“Tess,” Joel says in a soft voice. “The divorce papers are signed. I don’t even know why you’re here in the first place.”
“I was coming here to see if we could still make it work,” Tess says chagrined. “I have the divorce papers in my bag. I was sitting on mailing them out. Fucking foolish of me when you have a little whore keeping your dick wet.”
“Don’t call her that,” Joel snaps. “I’m serious.”
You wish you could see him through the door. You stand, moving to sit on the toilet, wrapping the robe tighter around you. You clean yourself with one of the towels, feeling sick to your stomach.
“She seemed young,” Tess scoffs. “Now I understand the fascination. Bet you love eating her pussy don’t you? She taste good, Joel? Sweet?”
Joel doesn’t answer and you’re frankly shocked at how Tess is speaking. She didn’t seem this kind of person when you met her at Christmas.
“She just love sucking your cock?” Tess continues and you can feel Joel’s shame through the door. “Does she know you have a daughter about her age?”
“Yes.”
“How long have you known her for, Joel?”
Silence. The kind of silence that is more incriminating
Say something Joel. Something. Anything.
And then he does say something. But it’s not what you expect.
“No, Tess don’t-“
The door to the bathroom is thrust open and Tess stands in the doorway, staring down at you. You feel your soul leave your body when her see her register who you are.
"You?" She chokes out. "You?!"
"I'm so sorry," you say and the tears are spilling from your eyes. "I'm so so sorry."
Because you are.
You feel so deeply ashamed with yourself. All the times you told yourself it was a fling and it didn’t matter. All the times you pushed Tess from your mind because she wasn’t there to remind you that you were doing something incredibly wrong. And you feel so much guilt because you want her husband, you love him.
Tess backs into the room, her eyes blown wide as she looks at you emerging from the bathroom, face blotchy and eyes wet with tears.
“I welcomed you into my home,” Tess whispers in horror, her face white. “I cooked for you, I- Oh my God – is this… did it start back then?” She whirls on Joel looking ashamedly at his feet. “How long has this been going on, Joel? Tell me the fucking truth.”
Joel’s voice is low and quiet.
“Christmas.”
“Christmas,” Tess echoes weakly. “You’ve been fucking this little college slut for months?”
“Hey,” Joel says sharply, inadvertently coming to stand between Tess and the bed, shielding you.
“Big, strong protector,” Tess says with a disgusted laugh. She gives you a hollow look. “Until he gets bored of you and finds another college girl to fuck, right?”
“Tess, I know you’re hurtin’ and I’m sorry,” Joel says truthfully. “But you need to stop.”
“Did you fuck her in our bed?”
Joel can’t reply and you feel your stomach drop when Tess shake her head before sneering over at you, giving you a once over full of derision. Then her eyes are back on Joel’s increasingly red face.
“You get that you’re just some older guy she’ll fuck until she gets bored. A story she’ll look back on and laugh about with her age appropriate husband in about ten years.”
"Tess-"
"You feel good knowing you threw away our entire marriage for some college pussy?"
“Stop, please,” you beg, hating the look that’s clouding Joel’s face. That scared, uncertain look. “Please, Tess.”
"Why?" Tess scoffs angrily and you flinch at the way she hisses at you. “You don’t like hearing the truth? How you broke up a family because you wanted to fuck my husband?”
You hate knowing that you’ve hurt Tess so badly. You just never thought she would find out.
“Tess stop,” Joel says and now his voice is that same dark whisper. The scary one that sets goosebumps across your body. “I was the one that cheated on you. Be mad at me.”
“Oh don’t worry about that, I am,” Tess says with a shallow laugh before pointing at you with the key card. "But she played an equal part in this. If she’s old enough to have an affair with my husband, she’s old enough to hear this. You understand that you’re a midlife crisis, right? Most men get sportscars, but I guess Joel Miller’s not like most men.”
“She ain’t that,” Joel tells Tess and you feel the anger mixed with shame radiating off of him.
“No?” Tess’s mouth is curled into a ghoulish expression of amusement. “Why Joel? Are you in love with her or something?”
"Yes."
The speed in which he replies shocks not only Tess but you as well. Your head jerks to the side to face him. His eyes go to your face, the feeling so clear in his gaze. Your heart swells at the sight of it despite everything.
“Of course you are,” Tess laughs cruelly. “Joel Miller the romantic.”
“Tess-“
“You two are just fucking around, ruining marriages and families and I’m supposed to believe this is some love story for the ages?” Tess scowls as she collapses into the chair nearest to her. “Are you fucking deluded?”
You chance a glance over at Joel to see his jaw clenched and his dark eyes far away. Part of you wants to beg Tess’s forgiveness; the other part wants to slap her for making Joel look so beaten down.
"How many others have there been?" Tess demands. You watch Joel's cheeks flame and your stomach drops at the length of time it takes him to answer. Were there others? You never even thought to ask.  
"Just her," he finally utters quietly. "Only wanted her."
You realize now his hesitancy. If there had been several you'd just be a number Tess could forget about. But as it is there is only you, which means something more. Tess turns her ire on you now, her light eyes flashing.
"How could you do this to your friend?" Tess demands of you. "Forget about me, how could you do this to Sarah? How could you break up her family?"
You feel sick to your stomach. All the minutes and hours and weeks and months you spent pining for Joel, did you ever really consider the true ramifications? Or the people you would both hurt? Or were you just so intent on having him that everything else was pushed aside?
"Tess, it wasn't her," Joel assures her. "You and I had been unhappy long before Christmas. Meeting her just... It just confirmed how I'd been feeling for months."
“We were married. We were happy.”
"Were we really happy Tess?" Joel challenges. “I wanted more kids and you didn’t.”
“She’s gonna give you kids, is that it?”
Joel ignores this question, can tell without looking over at you that there must be a stricken expression on your face.
"When you weren't at work and it was just us we barely spent time together. And when we did most of the time we'd argue."
"But there were good times," Tess defends. 
"I know," Joel nods. "S'why I didn't break things off right away."
You don't like hearing this. Hearing how Joel wasn't sure. Hearing about his life when you weren't there. It makes your face crumple when you hear it. Joel must notice because his face is turning to you.
"But I couldn't forget her."
He goes to reach for you but stops when he hears Tess give a disgusted scoff. Your arms are wrapped around your body, wishing more than anything this moment was over. But Tess isn’t finished. Not by a long shot.
“And what did Sarah have to say about this?” Tess demands. “Something tells me she wouldn’t have been thrilled to see her best friend and her father fucking.”
The dual silence of you and Joel tells her everything.
“Ohhh….She doesn’t know,” Tess says in a mock hushed tone. “Well, maybe someone should tell her.”
You watch in horror as Tess reaches for her cell phone in her purse. Your stomach lurches and you dart forward, ignoring Joel’s hand grazing your waist as you pass him.
"Tess please," you beg, hand outstretched. "You can hate me and Joel as much as you want. But please think of how telling her like this will affect Sarah.”
Tess stares at you, a sinister curl of amusement on her lips. “Like you thought about how it would affect Sarah when you started fucking her dad?”
No, you never thought of Sarah. All you thought about was your own selfish pleasure. How were you so fucking deluded to think that loving Joel would be enough? Tess is one thing – according to him their marriage was already suffering and aside from this moment you never thought you’d have to see her.
But Sarah? Sarah was innocent in all of this. Sarah your only true friend.
“I didn’t because I’m a selfish piece of shit,” you tell her firmly. “But you aren’t.”
“Oh no?” Tess is almost laughing at your solemnity.
“No,” you shake your head. “From the moment I met you, I knew you were the kind of person to do the right thing. And you know that telling Sarah about us like this is wrong. It would break her heart. Sarah doesn't deserve this. She's never done anything to you. Ever." 
“And I deserved it?” Tess challenges. “I deserved to have some little college slut fuck my husband?”
The tears are falling down, hot and steady down your warm cheeks. Because she has every right to hate you both. You did something wrong, so impossibly wrong. You shake your head lightly, trying to swallow more of the tears.
“No, you didn’t.”
You feel your cheeks burn with shame and guilt as you lower yourself to your knees, head bowed. You face her, subservient in your stance, ignoring as Joel calls your name. Your fold your hands in front of you, lacing the fingers together as if in prayer.  
“Tess I’m so so sorry for what we did. I know that an apology means nothing. It means less than nothing,” you say, debasing yourself. “I understand you hating me for the rest of your life. What we did was fucking wrong, there’s no way around that. I don’t know how to fix it. I really don’t.”
You take a deep breath and try to swallow down the cracking sobs starting in your rib cage.
“But Tess I’m begging you, please don’t tell Sarah. Sarah loves Joel so much, finding out this way would devastate her. She doesn’t deserve to pay for our fuck up. She doesn’t deserve to learn about it like this, please don’t tell Sarah. Please.”
The sobs begin in earnest and you try to swallow them down once more, your chest heaving. When you finally glance up you can see that Tess is glassy-eyed and ignoring you there on the floor.
“I wanna talk in private,” Tess says, looking at Joel. “You owe me that much.” 
You continue sitting there on the floor, tears streaming down your face until you feel Joel’s hand gently alight on your shoulder.
"Can you give us a minute?" Joel asks you. "I'll send a text."
For some reason this hurts more than anything. To know that you’re the one being asked to leave in all of this. And yet you nod, grabbing your phone from the nightstand and leaving quickly, tightening the robe around your middle. 
///
You’re sitting in the pool area, lying on one of the puffy chaise lounges. It’s been two hours of scrolling your phone and wiping away tears as you try to face away from the families splashing around in the pool. 
Joel loves you.
Sarah is going to hate you.
Joel loves you.
You keep waiting for Sarah to call you in tears, screaming at you for ruining her life. When your phone buzzes you feel your stomach jump. You raise the screen to your face with shaking fingers.
[HIM 💜]: She left.
The trudge back to the hotel room is a slow one, your heart heavy. There’s no way Joel is going to want to continue this with you. And you’ve realized now that it’s going to break your fucking heart when he ends things.
You slip past him when the door opens, trying to mask your tears. You go to the bed, looking at the rumpled sheets and your red panties strewn to the side. It doesn’t look like the bed of two people in love. It looks like the bed of two selfish people.
Joel rests a hand on the doorknob, shoulders hunched at his ears. You can see the red at the back of his neck when you look back at him.
“Is she gonna tell Sarah?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Joel says it firmly, without question and you believe him. You want to ask him what he and Tess talked about, but at the same time you don’t want to know. You don’t want to think about how hurt she was.
And now you can’t stop thinking about Joel loving you. He loves you. Love. And you love him. This should be a time of celebration. But instead you stand there, eyes on his feet. Because love won’t be enough. He won’t want this with you, not at such a cost.
You blink back the tears and try to steady your voice.
“I guess we’re over, then?”
You make a motion between your bodies, waiting for Joel’s agreement. When several moments pass in silence you finally raise your gaze to Joel’s. He’s put a t-shirt on, but he still wears his boxers. He looks so vulnerable, despite his breadth and you can see the gloss that has begun in his dark eyes.
"Baby, come here."
Without thought you cross the room and move into his waiting embrace, arms banding around his waist. He holds you tightly to him, your head tucked under his chin. He sways you gently from side to side, his heart under your ear.
“I don’t want us to be over,” he murmurs against the crown of your head. “But I understand if this is too much for you.”
You hold him tighter, the tears no longer flowing. Being in his arms feels so safe and so right. You hate how right it feels in Joel Miller’s arms. If it felt even a tiny bit awful you could turn away, you could walk from this hotel and never give him a second thought. As it is, you feel something deep and eternal for him.
"Did you mean it? About loving me?"
Joel’s large hands move to cup your face, turning your red-rimmed eyes up to face him. He stares at you in that impossibly soft way that only Joel Miller possesses. The kind of way that spells affection in the flecks of honey in his iris, the way that shows adoration in the round of his pupils.
"Yeah," Joel whispers and suddenly he looks like a lost little boy as you stare up at him. "Is that okay?"
It takes everything in you not to cry again. You’re sick of crying. You want to remember how Joel is looking down at you now. How your hands lay against his waist, holding him. How in this moment you’ve never loved anyone more.
"Yes,” you finally whisper back. “Joel, I've loved you for so long." 
“I know,” Joel admits, his eyes glassy. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time, baby. Was just scared to admit it, I think.”
His mouth finds yours, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as you wrap your arms around his waist once more. There’s no heat in this kiss, just a deep abiding love that you sense with every soft dab of his lips against yours.
“I wanna take care of you,” Joel murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth. "I want you to come back to Austin with me. I want you to come stay with me for the summer. Please say yes."
Your stomach jumps in both anticipation and tremendous fear. This is a huge step for the both of you. And you’re scared that Joel is offering this because of how horrible this evening was with Tess. You bring a thumb to stroke his cheek, smiling up at him gently.
“Let’s go to bed,” you say.
Joel blinks before nodding, pressing a full-lipped kiss to your mouth before taking your hand in his and leading you to the bed. The two of you are completely wiped from everything. Still wearing your robe and Joel in his boxers, the two of you collapse into bed. Joel flicks off the light and draws you to him.
“I love you,” Joel murmurs against your forehead. Your heart sings at the sound of it and your mouth curls into a soft, contented smile.
///
You wake the next morning with a strange sensation. A mixture of joy an apprehension as you open your eyes. Joel is already awake, balancing on one arm and looking at you with a gentle smile. His hair is mussed from sleep, the curls flattened on one side. That shouldn’t make your heart jump with affection, but it does.
“Was wondering when you’d wake up. You were out like a light.”
“Shit,” you say, propping yourself onto your elbows. “What time is it?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Joel soothes, brushing the hair from your eyes. “I got us a late checkout.”
“Thanks.”
Your eyes drop to the space between you on the bed. A small sliver of waved blankets that in this moment feel like a canyon. You smooth your hands over it, feeling the soft texture. Joel watches this, you can feel his eyes on you. He knows you so well.
“What are you thinkin’ about?”
“About what you asked me last night,” you admit. “About coming to Austin with you.”
Joel grows serious, taking a slow inhale. “And?”
“I’m worried you’re saying it because of everything with Tess,” you admit, fingers plucking the bed sheets absently. “And I don’t want that. I want it to be because it’s something you want, not something you feel obligated to do.”
Joel launches himself off of the bed before you can finish your thought. You watch his broad shoulders bared, his body covered in only his boxers as he knees down, rummaging for something in his suitcase.
You stare at him puzzled when he comes back with an envelope and a small square box.  He sits across from you on the bed, his large frame comically child-like in the cross-legged pose. He passes you the envelope first.
You open it, confused when you pull out a long piece of paper until you realize what you’re looking at. An airline ticket to Austin and your name in on it. Your eyes dart in surprise to Joel’s open gaze. He sits with his hands folded on his muscled thighs. He rubs the palms along them a few times before nervously swallowing.
“Wanted this for a long time,” he tells you. “Longer than I wanna admit.”
A smile breaks out over your features. This wasn’t a last minute plan to smooth over what happened last night. He wanted you to come back with him to Austin for a while. Living with him for an entire summer.
“I was gonna ask you properly last night,” he admits. “The same time I gave you this.”
Joel takes your chin in his thumb and forefinger, stroking sweetly before motioning to the box between the two of you. It's a small square box in a color you know too well: Tiffany blue wrapped in a black ribbon.  
"Open it."
You do slowly, feeling nervous with Joel's gaze on you. The ribbon drifts to the floor until all you're left with is a small square box with Tiffany & Co embossed on the front. You let your fingers trail over the grooves of the letters. 
He wouldn't propose. 
No it's too early. It's too much. You can't possibly say yes can you? No, it's insane. His divorce isn't even finalized yet. Your trembling fingers open the box, eyes widening until you see what rests inside. 
Relief floods you when you see a delicate silver chain and pendant sitting on the velvet cushion inside. It's simple; a thin x with diamonds in each of the empty spaces and the shape is unmistakable. 
A snowflake. 
It's on a slender silver chain that sparkles in the light as you remove it from the velvet cushion.
"Here, lemme put it on ya," Joel murmurs, taking the delicate jewelry in his wide fingers. You twist away from him, sliding your hair over one shoulder. You feel him fumble with it against the nape of your neck and you hold in a shiver at the sensation. 
"Perfect," be murmurs, tracing a finger along the chain.
"It's just ... This is so much, Joel. The necklace, the hotel, the massage.” Guilt gnaws at your belly.  “Did you get anything for Sarah?"
Joel's head tilts slightly as he regards you. "You're worried I didn't get anything for Sarah?"
"I guess ...” you falter. “I just ..."
"I got her a ring made from one that used to belong to her mom. I paid for her and Charlie to stay at a swanky hotel in town for the weekend," Joel promises, kissing the worry from between your brows. "Plus a few other things that ain't your business because she's my kid."
He says the last part in a jesting tone, pinching the end of your nose in his knuckles and squeezing gently a moment. Relief floods you at this admission.
 "Good."
Joel surveys you a moment, features drawn. He takes your hand in his, wide thumb tracing the back. 
"My daughter will always be my biggest priority," Joel informs you, concern trailing over his strong features. "You never have to worry about that."
"Alright."
Joel swallows. 
"But you also need to understand it, too. I need you to be okay with it, cuz that ain't changing. She's always gonna be my kid."
Adoration flows from you as you look at Joel. The difference between he and your parents rearing is so stark it fills your eyes with tears. 
"I think that's why I fell for you from the start," you admit without thinking. "Because of how well you love her."
Joel's face is pure sweetness as he looks at you. 
"But that doesn't mean you're not a priority too," he tells you with earnestness. "You're my girl."
His large palms come to either side of your jaw, tilting your mouth to his. His girl. How long did you pine over Joel Miller dreaming of a life where you're his? And now you are. Here in his arms, kissing him fiercely. 
You break apart, flushed happily. You look back at your necklace, tracing the small pendant before turning it over. Your brows knit together in confusion as you see the engraved letter on the back.
"H?"
"For Heather," Joel tells you shyly. "I just know she'd be proud of you, baby. Maybe even more than me."
And that’s it, the moment you fall so hard for Joel Miller than no one could catch you. Your heart overflows with affection for him as you launch yourself into his lap, holding him. Everything about him feels right as he pulls you against him, his breathing soft and steady.
 “I wanna come back to Austin with you Joel,” you tell him with a watery smile. “I wanna spend the summer with you.”
“Are you sure, baby?” Joel asks, concern clear in his features. “I don’t wanna pressure-“
“I’m sure,” you answer, your mouth kissing his jaw, then his lips. You pull back because there is something so engaging about Joel’s eyes. You see everything in the depths of his large, chocolate colored gaze.
"Joel... How do you just..."
"Just what?"
"See me," you say softly. You can’t find another word to describe it. All the things you’ve tried to keep hidden, the secrets, the shame, he sees it all. And he loves you through all of it.
"Same way you see me," Joel offers. 
Joel's eyes are so impossibly soft as he stares at you and when you press your mouth to his, he's so warm. You’re convinced that if you cut your veins they would bleed the color of Joel’s eyes, that your heart is wrapped up in his flesh, that you are a part of him and he’s a part of you.
"Make love to me," you whisper against his lips.
You don't know that it's possible considering all that’s gone on in the last twenty four hours. But you need to feel him inside you right now; you need to be as physically close as two people can be. 
"Of course," Joel murmurs back his nose gently tracing yours. "Whatever my girl wants." 
Any fears that he won't be able to perform are allayed when he brings your thigh over his and you feel his hardened cock at your entrance. You both shimmy out of your under things, kicking them onto the hotel floor. He removes the robe from your body and on his side he holds you, thumb rubbing the plush of your hips. He urges your thigh over his hip and then he slides into you slowly, both of you gasping softly at the sensation of his cock and your cunt meeting in pleasure.
“I love you so much sweet girl,” he tells you. “So much.”
“I love you too,” you whisper, eyes locked on his. “I've never really been in love before." 
And it's true, you realize as Joel slowly and sweetly makes love to you that you've never actually loved anyone. You thought you loved Conrad but that was an infatuation. He never saw you like Joel does. He never held you like Joel is holding you now.
He holds you like a cherished artwork, like something precious. Like you’re worth something, even though your whole life you’ve been told the opposite.
His mouth goes to your neck, kissing and licking there as you whimper against him. He gently moves you onto your back and you let him take control of the motion. Your hands lace in Joel’s at the side of your head, holding you in place, his body sliding along yours.  
"Gonna hold you like this every day in Austin," Joel breathes as he continues to slowly thrust into you deeply from this angle. "Gonna cook for you. Gonna take you on dates. I’m gonna take care of you."
"I want that too," you breathe, mouth over his, swallowing his cries. "Wanna be with you so much, Joel.”
He notices your eyes closed tightly, body rocking gently against his. He lets this happen a few moments, watching as your body begins to flush and your brows saddle. But soon he feels himself approaching his climax and he needs your gaze.
"Eyes open for me, pretty girl," he murmurs and your eyes crack open at his request.
The two of you stare deeply into one another's eyes, the moment heavy. You can see Joel's mouth starting to quiver as he breathes, something he does when he's about to come. He holds you tighter to him and neither of you can look away when your climaxes overtakes you.
He spills into you while crying out your name, you follow soon after with his name half-uttered before your groans of pleasure become too much. You both stay like this a moment, he soft but still buried within you. You kiss fiercely, desire flooding you both at the knowledge that this is only the beginning.
“Better get you to the dorm,” Joel offers. “Gotta pack for Austin… As long as that’s still something you want?”
You see the indecision in his eyes, the continued concern that he’s forcing you into something you don’t want. You hum a soothing noise before you press a palm to his whiskery cheek, watching him go from nervous to calm at your touch.
“I can’t wait.”
-----------
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rafeandonlyrafe · 6 months
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savior
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words: 1.1k
warnings: sexual assault (by strangers), attempted r/pe, mentions of a gun
taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @winterrrnight @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450
you walk nervously down the street, clutching your bag tightly to your body. it wasn’t your intention to be out after dark, in fact, you were trying very hard to avoid it, but your study session ran long and the sun had set behind the buildings. 
you think about calling rafe, you know hearing your boyfriends voice would help calm you down, but you don’t want to bother him too much, especially considering you’ve only been away from him for a couple hours. you decide against it, knowing you need to fully concentrate on the street around you as you head back to your car, cursing the fact that the busy streets that forced you to park so far away from the library are now completely devoid of people. 
you press yourself closer to the brick wall of a building when you see a group of three men on the opposite side of the street, hoping you can be quick and silent enough to slip by without their notice.
“hey, pretty lady!” one of the men shouts out, voice slurred and clearly very inebriated. you hope for a foolish moment that the one shouting was the only drunk one, and that his friends would control him, but when they move across the street towards you, you know you’re in trouble.
“please, just leave me alone.” you whimper, pressing your back flat against the wall.
“you?” the man questions. “you’re far too sexy to be left alone.” one of the man grins, stepping right up into your personal space.
“here, i have money.” you begin to search through your bag for your wallet, cursing the big textbooks making it hard to find anything.
“we don’t want your money, cutie.” the only man who hasn’t spoken yet pipes up. 
“please.” your bottom lip quivers. “please, i just want to go home.” you try to hold back the thick tears that are threatening to spill.
“i don’t think so.” the man grabs your breast suddenly, making you scream, hoping someone, anyone is around to help you. you squirm as they tug at your shirt, trying to move away but the other two men grab your arm.
“get off me! get off me!” you shout, squeezing your eyes shut as the main attacker rips your shirt open, exposing your bra.
“shut the fuck up!” one of the men yells in your face. you cringe when you feel his spittle against your cheek.
tire squeals make your eyes pop open, looking down the street as a car races in your direction. the men notice too, looking away from you as the truck speeds up, squealing to a stop right in front of the sidewalk.
“get the fuck away from her!” a familiar voice yells, and you let out a sigh of relief at your savior. 
“fuck, he’s got a gun! run!” the mans hands let go of you, and you drop to the ground, crumpling against the brick wall. you whimper softly as you hear their footsteps pound down the pavement.
“baby, fuck, are you alright?” you feel rafes hands on your shoulders, trying to angle you to look up at him. you launch yourself forward, sobbing into his chest. rafe wraps his arms tightly around you, sitting down and letting you crawl into his lap, rocking you gently as you let out all your tears.
“baby…” rafe says softly once you’ve calmed down a little. you look up at him, face wet with tears. he presses your lips together, thankful to have you safe.
“how-” you sniffle. “how did you find me?” you ask. rafe chuckles lightly, pulling his phone out, showing you the find my iphone he has pulled up. “i got nervous when it got dark, so i came to get you.” rafe explains, tucking your hair behind your ear.
“thank you.” you say, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your head against his body.
“i’m sorry i wasn’t here sooner honey.” he rubs your back. “they never should have touched you.” “it’s okay, you saved me.” you say. rafe frowns, looking at your tugged open shirt. “you saved me from the worst of it.” you say.
“let me get you home.” rafe says, standing up with you still in his arms. he takes you right to his truck, setting you in the passenger seat. he frowns at your exposed body, tugging his sweatshirt off for you to put on. 
he makes sure you buckle up before closing the door, running to grab your bag before heading around to the drivers side. 
“my car…” you mumble as rafe takes off.
“we can get it in the morning. besides, you won’t be needing it, i’ll drive you wherever you need from now on.” rafe’s hands are tight on the steering wheel, “you never should have been out by your own anyways.”
you frown, knowing rafe is blaming himself right now. “hey,” you say softly, reaching across and placing your hand on his bicep. “it’s not your fault.”
“i should have been a better boyfriend.” rafe grunts, shrugging your hand off.
“stop, rafey.” you say. “it’s making me feel worse that you’re blaming yourself.” you tell him honestly. rafe pulls to a stop at a stop sign, taking the deserted roads as an opportunity to lean across the center console, kissing you gently. “i’m sorry princess, i just want to keep you safe.” “i know baby.” you grin, giving him a peck on the lips. “that’s why you got to me when you did.”
rafe nods, giving you another kiss before turning his attention back to the road. you don’t mean to, but you’re asleep by the time you get home. rafe smiles gently at you, closing his door as quietly as he can before walking around to your side, unbuckling you and picking you up.
you wake while he’s carrying you inside to your bedroom, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to make it easier for him to carry you. 
“let me get you changed into pajamas.” rafe says, setting you down on your shared bed. 
you nod, letting him take his own sweatshirt off your. he frowns again when seeing your ripped shirt. “i’ll buy you 100 new ones.” rafe says. you just nod, knowing it would make him feel better.
he takes the ripped shirt gently off your shoulders, before removing your bra. he rushes quickly to your pajama drawer as you let out a yawn. he redresses you in your pajama shirt, but you stand up and change your own bottoms while he changes himself. 
“come on baby.” rafe says, sliding under the covers. you lay down against him, letting him press his chest into your back. rafe places a hand against your stomach, slipping it under your shirt to feel your skin.
you feel rafe shake gently behind you, pressing his lips against your neck. “it’s okay.” you tell him, putting your hand over his. “i’m here, rafe.” he squeezes you impossibly closer to his body. “i’m safe.”
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carouselunique · 2 months
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is blueblood an absent father? Since you’ve mentioned ditzy having magical difficulties due to not having a unicorn to teach her
I am trying to save asks for when I have images to go with them, but to make this clear in case it isn’t (and I’m too sick to draw anything at the moment):
Blueblood isn’t an absent father, he doesn’t know he has a daughter out there. Ditzy was too anxious to tell him she was pregnant after what Cinch said about her trying to trap him and ruin his life. So Dinky doesn’t have a unicorn in the house to teach her so after her initial infant magic surge died down, she basically didn’t use magic beyond little accidental impulse sparks.
Ditzy didn’t know she had to have Dinky practicing basic magic skills as a toddler until she started her in school and a teacher brought up that Dinky writes with her mouth not her horn - something that young unicorns don’t do unless they can’t use magic (because writing with magic is a good easy way for young unicorns to practice fine motor skills) and Ditzy is now trying to help Dinky practice magic with exercises her schoolteacher gave as a guide but is at a disadvantage with it. It’s also hard because to get her a special magic teacher costs money she doesn’t have.
Rarity, a local town seamstress of little importance is a family friend and donated spare baby stuff her younger sister grew out of, is a unicorn who could help but is simply too busy to do more than offer advice and Ditzy wouldn’t ask too much of her - and until she properly becomes friends with Sea Swirl and Minuette she doesn’t really know unicorns who can volunteer their time that much.
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tteokdoroki · 1 year
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𑊡˚+₊🍼✦ — sentimental sewing + katsuki bakugou.
૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — fluff, sfw, gn!reader and another domestic katsuki thought for you, he’s good at sewing hehe <3!
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being an only child meant that bakugou picked up a lot of random little habits and hobbies to fill up his time — especially when he felt alone. the kids at school weren’t really his friends, they only liked him for his quirk, that he was strong, talented. in truth, katsuki preferred his loneliness compared to faux company of others.
instead of playing out in the sunshine, katsuki would sit by his mother’s feet when she worked from home— piecing together and designing gowns or three piece suits or ambiguous tricks to be worn by famous pro heroes to galas and charity events— sometimes, just because they wanted something nice to wear. mitsuki was a highly sought after designer and seamstress, and katsuki picked up on a lot of her skills just from watching— observing, strategising.
“do you want to try, katsuki?” the elder bakugou had asked him one evening, her hand in his soft blonde hair as she’d passed him his own set of needles and a patch of spare fabric for him to work on. he was much too young to help her with a commissioned gown. “watch yer ma carefully, okay, my love? then you can try again on your own.”
no one would have ever guessed that katsuki bakugou was good at sewing or stitching.
over the years he would patch up his own hero costume after training or a gnarly run in with villains— katsuki was sentimental, he blew up a lot of his own shit but his hero costume was somewhat important to him. he didn’t want it to be replaced. he’d used those skills to stitch himself up when first aid was too hard to get to on covert missions— nothing but a leather belt between his pointed teeth and a needle sterilised with alcohol. mitsuki’s skills had saved his life a few times, he’d be forever grateful to the hag for all of that.
being able to use a needle and thread meant saving money on gifts— or at least that’s what katsuki called it. he’d spend ages embroidering little handkerchiefs or sewing patches onto items he knew his newer and better friends from UA would cherish. they all knew about the blonde’s secret talent, holding back their squeals as they squished him between them all whenever he mumbled.
“i didn’t make it, s’just a stupid customised gift. now get off’a me b’fore i blow your head off!”
but deep down inside, bakugou was pleased to know he could make something of sentimental value for the people he loved— even if it was small, it was thoughtful. he liked that.
“katsuki,” you warble, eyes brimming with tears when you come to bed one night— weakly holding up a scarf he’d gotten you to soothe the chill after one of your first and earlier dates. “‘m sorry!”
you and bakugou had been together for years, finding yourself falling fast and hard after he wound up in your care at the hospital— on the one time his handy little stitches had gotten a wound infected. “whas the matter with you, sweetheart?” he grunts, taking off his glasses and throwing his night time read aside. “you cryin’?”
“n-no…um, yeah? it’s kinda stupid? i wore the scarf you gave me today and i got caught on a stupid tree branch walking home and—?” you hiccup, seconds away from breaking down as you hold the piece of fabric out to your boyfriend. “there’s a hole in it? i swear i didn’t mean for it to happen— i just tried tugging it free and it ripped and—“ sniffling, a pathetic pout sits on your lips. “you got this for me ‘nd i’ve ruined it, i’m sorry kats.”
sentimental. you’re sentimental over a cheap and shitty scarf that bakugou had gotten you on a whim— so that he had an excuse to spend more time with you after your initial date had ended all those years ago. “give it here, I’ll fix it.” he grunts, hiding the flush on his cheeks before he takes the scarf from you and pokes a finger through the hole. “stop cryin’ and grab the sewing kit ma left in the study.”
nodding your head furiously, you do as you’re told with a watery smile and perch yourself on the edge of the bed next to your brooding boyfriend while he patches up your silly scarf with some old fabric and a few stitches. “i didn’t know you could sew, kats.” you breathe happily, clutching the material to your chest after inspecting the cute little embroidered heart katsuki had done all nicely for you. “it’s perfect, thank you.”
“all i did was patch it up sweetheart,” bakugou coos, leaning over your shoulder to brush a half hearted and sleepy kiss over your cheek. “ma taught me, s’how i fixed myself up all botched ‘n badly ‘n ended up in your emergency room, don’t you remember?” he loves the way you squeeze him closer, having sniffed your scarf and realised that it smells like your favourite thing. your favourite person. him.
you’re sentimental, not just with materialistic things, but with your partner. your lover, everything about him is cherished by you.
“i just thought you’d been an idiot, didn’t know you were this talented katsuki,” you say wistfully, allowing the blonde to pull you back into his arms.
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