#it's the same paper too. idk what's up | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joelsgreys · 5 months

Text

someone to be thankful for

DBF! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: It’s Thanksgiving—when dinner with your nightmare of a family goes south, you find comfort in the person you least expect it from: your father’s best friend, Joel Miller.

warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (AU, NO OUTBREAK) non canon, DBF! Joel, AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s, i do not specify her age, but she’s a recent college grad so do with that what you will, not everyone graduates at the same specific age ya know? Joel is in his mid-ish 50’s). Reader’s a teacher, she is visiting her suburban childhood home from a big city. Reader’s parents are religious and practice traditional-ish gender norms (i.e father is head of the household kinda thing) reader’s family celebrates Thanksgiving (sorry) several mentions of food and alcohol, reader’s parents suck, she has two brothers who come with names, a lot of her relatives come with names, watch out for Aunt Ines she’s a bitch. (TW) body/weight shaming (twice) PLEASE BE MINDFUL if this could be triggering. mentions of and implications of childhood abuse (not graphic) reader’s dad gets in her face, implied infidelity (reader’s dad), implied toxic marriage (reader’s parents). soft, caring, protective Joel. Joel’s recently divorced, mention of Sarah, mentions of the ex-wife. SMUT. oral sex (female receiving) p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) reader states she’s on baby blockers (birth control), creampie, DADDY KINK (bc reader clearly has a few daddy issues), LOTS of pet names (darlin’, baby, pretty girl, sweetheart, honey), size kink (ish?), cockwarming. think i got it all?

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, that is fine but just keep on scrolling.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.

word count: 11.5k

a/n: yeah…idk. this was very delayed because it turned into a whole thing. if anyone actually reads all 11k of this, i will bake you muffins.

You take a deep breath and look in the mirror.

Skirt pressed, not a wrinkle in sight.

Hair brushed, not a single strand out of place.

Makeup done, not a blemish to be seen.

And somehow, someone will still find something.

Something to point out.

Something to comment on.

Something to criticize.

If not your appearance, it’ll be something else.

Because someone always had something to say.

“Should you be eating all of that?”

“Another year gone and still no boyfriend?”

“Don’t you want to get married?”

“When I was in my twenties, I had two children.”

Boundaries didn’t exist on Thanksgiving.

Actually, for your family, boundaries didn’t exist at all—somehow, they are still scratching their heads and wondering why you’d decided to up and leave the minute your high school principal handed over that diploma, your ticket to freedom.

“Sweetie!” Your mother’s shrill voice calls from the kitchen downstairs. “I need a hand! Our guests are going to start arriving soon and there is still plenty left for us to do before they get here!”

You groan outwardly.

There’s still plenty left to do?

How’s that even fucking possible?

You’ve been cooking and baking since sunrise.

“Don’t you think it’s too early?” you’d grumbled at five o’ clock in the morning when your mother had pulled you out of bed, declaring it was time for the big dinner preparations to begin—even though it’d be several hours before your family came over and gathered around the table to break bread. She had pulled the turkey out of the freezer a few days ago, a massive, thirty-pound whole bird that looked big enough to feed a small village. In addition, she had picked up a ham and a brisket. “Mom, why’s there so much food?” Rubbing the sleep from your eyes with the sleeve of your robe, you’d started making your way over to the Nespresso only to realize that the coffee machine was hidden behind paper bags full of groceries. “Are we cooking for all of Texas or something?”

“Very funny,” she had glared at you. “Of course we aren’t.” She started unwrapping the turkey. “We’re simply making sure we have enough food and that we have different options for everyone to enjoy, so knock it off with the wisecracks and get to peeling those carrots for me for the stuffing. There is not a single minute to waste today, you hear me, missy? We’re hosting a dozen people, so everything must be absolutely perfect. I won’t accept anything less than perfection today, do you understand me?”

Thirteen hours later, she’s still driving you insane.

You’re only home visiting until the end of the week and then it’s back to the Midwest. You can survive her for three more days, right?

You hear her calling your name and exhale a small, frustrated sigh. “I’m coming, mom!” you call back. It’s difficult to mask the annoyance in your tone of voice, but somehow you manage it. “One minute!”

Smoothing down your pleated plaid skirt, you take one last look in the mirror to make sure everything is in order—there is a loose thread on the sleeve of your brown, knitted sweater and you carefully snip it off with a pair of scissors before sliding your feet into the comfiest pair of ankle boots you’d packed and head downstairs, nose leading the way as you follow the warm, delicious scent of the made from scratch biscuits and rolls baking in the oven.

You find your mother standing at the center island counter garnishing a charcuterie board with sweet gherkins and sprigs of fresh herbs. She is donning festive apron embroidered with fall leaves over her designer dress; her hair’s still up in rollers. “Finally, there you are,” she huffs out loudly the second she hears you walk into the kitchen. Down the hallway, your father and two younger brothers are shouting at some football game on the flat screen television in the living room—men don’t lift a single finger on this day, at least not in this household. “I need you to start setting the table for me. I have place cards in that bag over there. Make sure your dad’s at the head of the table. Oh and don’t forget to bring out the children’s table for all your little cousins—” She glances up, letting out a small gasp when she sees you. “What in the world are you wearing?”

Frowning, you look down at yourself. “Clothes?”

Her ruby red lips purse together in a tight thin line.

“Honey, that skirt is too short. It’s inappropriate.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at her. “It’s like an inch above the knee, how is that inappropriate? It’s not like it’s a miniskirt, mom.” As she eyes your skirt with disapproval, you decide you’re not in the mood to argue and say, “Okay, fine. I’ll go upstairs and change into something else then—”

“No, no, forget it,” she shakes her head. “We don’t have the time for that.” Your mother whirls around, picking up the bag of place holders—she’d special ordered little turkeys carved out of wood. She also takes a marker and a notepad, shoving everything into your hands. “Here. I wrote down all the names of everyone who’s coming for dinner. The children get place holders too but make sure the little ones are sitting beside someone older to help them. Oh! Did I already mention putting your dad at the head of the—”

Tuning her out, your eyes scan down the guest list and if there’s one thing to be thankful for today it’s the fact that your mother’s given you the power to seat everybody wherever you want. Halfway down the list, you see the names of several relatives that you don’t want anywhere near you at the table. An Aunt Miriam who smells like the inside of a casino; a cousin Jennifer who refuses to acknowledge her forty-eight month old is actually four years old; an uncle Richard who always has one too many beers and winds up spewing antigovernment conspiracy theories, ranting until he’s passed out somewhere, such as on the floor of the guest bathroom.

You get to the bottom of the list and can’t help but raise an eyebrow in surprise. “Joel Miller?”

She nods, returning to her board.

“You remember Mr. Miller, don’t you, sweetie? He and your father went to college together—he’s one of his oldest and dearest friends. Don’t tell me you forgot about him? You’ve met him plenty of ti—”

“Yeah, I remember who Joel is, mom,” you mutter, cutting her off. “Didn’t he and the family move out to Arizona like, four years ago? To Phoenix, right?” You’d been away for college then. Taking a second glance at the list, you notice she had forgotten the names of Joel’s wife and daughter. Surely, it’d just been a mistake on her part, though. “I had no idea they were in town visiting. Dad didn’t mention it to me at all.”

“They’re not.” She lowers her voice, as if someone else is standing in the room listening. “Joel moved back to Austin, he’s been back for a few days now. He and Connie, they um—” Pausing for a moment, she reaches up and clasps the cross hanging from her neck before whispering, “They got divorced.”

Taken aback, your mouth parts slightly. “What?”

“I know. Joel and Connie were the last people that I ever thought would get divorced. Such a shame,” your mother remarks, shaking her head. “I ran into Mrs. Adler at the super market and she was telling me all about it. Thinks they could have saved their marriage if only those two—”

“Would get right with Jesus,” you finish, biting the tiny smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “She says that about everything, mom.”

“Well, she isn’t wrong! The sacrament of marriage is a lifelong bond that shouldn’t be broken. It’s not right.” Dropping her hand away from her necklace, she crosses her arms over chest. “Anyway, Connie stayed in Phoenix. Sarah’s spending Thanksgiving with her. Your father didn’t want Joel spending the holiday alone and invited him over for dinner. That means I need you to be on your very best behavior tonight. I don’t want you embarrassing your father in front of his closest friend. Is that understood?”

You can’t help but scoff a little. “I’m not a child.”

She narrows her eyes at you and scoffs right back, planting her hands on her hips.

“No, you’re a smart aleck. Need I remind you what happened last Thanksgiving with Aunt Ines?”

Of course she didn’t have to remind you about last year’s fiasco with her insufferable bitch of a sister.

“That’s an awfully big piece of pumpkin pie,” she’d remarked loudly, eliciting snickers from everybody sitting at the table. “Don’t forget, dear—a moment on the lips, forever on the hips. And you have quite a few forevers on your hips already, darling.”

You had smiled sweetly at her, your fingers itching to fling your mother’s fine china at her. “I wouldn’t really worry about my pie, Aunt Ines,” you had said as soon as you realized that nobody, not even your parents, would be coming to your defense. “Much less when your husband’s stepping out and eating someone else’s pie when he’s away on all those so called business trips. Worry about that instead.”

That comment hadn’t gone over all too well. Three months later, Aunt Ines and Uncle Louis started to see a marriage counselor. Whoops.

“Well?”

“She deserved that,” you say, shrugging lightly.

“She’s family.”

“She’s a jerk.”

“You crossed a line.”

“She crossed it first.”

Before your mother can respond, the sound of the doorbell ringing echoes throughout the house.

“Jesus, we don’t have time for this!” Your mother’s eyes widen when she tries running a hand through her hair and realizes she still has her rollers in. “Oh no, people are arriving and I’m still not ready!” She makes a beeline for the hallway. “Get the door and greet our guests, I’ll be down in five minutes!”

She disappears upstairs into her bedroom and you hear the doorbell ring again. Your father shouts for someone to go answer it, someone other than him or your brothers because it is the end of the fourth quarter and they just can’t possibly miss that.

You make your way through the foyer and open up the front door expecting it to be one of your family members, but it’s not.

Your throat instantly goes dry at the sight of him.

He’s broader than you remeber, so much broader.

The fabric of his sage green dress shirt is nice and snug on his frame—stretched taut over the planes of his chest and his wide shoulders. He’s holding a box of store bought something or other but you’re much too preoccupied with the way the sleeves of his shirt are hugging his biceps to notice what it is although you assume it’s some kind of dessert. He looks far more delicious than whatever sweet treat could be in that white box he’s got in his hands.

After a minute, you realize you’ve been gawking at him and the heat rushes to your cheeks. “Hello Mr. Miller,” you greet him politely. “It’s very nice to see you again. Please, come on in.”

He smiles, his brown eyes warm and sweet behind his square, black-rimmed glasses. “You remember me,” he states and the syrupy richness of his voice sends a pleasant tingle up your spine. Stepping off to the side, you allow him inside—as he steps past you over the threshold, the tantalizing scent of his cologne almost brings you to your knees. Notes of a citrus accord like tart grapefruit, fresh bergamot mixed with the woodiness of vetiver and musk; it’s intoxicating, something you could easily get drunk off of if you’re not careful. “I’m surprised. S’been a real long time since you last saw me.”

“It hasn’t been all that long,” you reply, closing the door behind you. You speak to him in the steadiest voice you can muster, with nonchalance—as if you aren’t one missed heartbeat away from feeling like a silly little schoolgirl with her first crush. “Has it?”

He thinks about it. “‘Bout four and a half years.”

“That’s really not that long.”

“S’not,” Joel admits with a chuckle. “But with how much I’ve aged in that short amount of time, I just wasn’t sure if you’d recognize me, y’know? I look a lot different than I used to.” He pauses and laughs, shaking his head. “I must look like an old geezer to you now, don’t I?”

Grays lightly pepper his thick dark brown curls, his beard and his mustache. He’s got crows feet when he smiles, he has worry lines and creases between his eyebrows—he does look a lot older, but he’s so goddamn handsome, wrinkles, fine lines, and all.

You toss him a playful eye roll, prompting a grin. “I don’t think you look like an old geezer, Mr. Miller.”

“Well, you’re sure as hell makin’ me feel like an old geezer by callin’ me that, darlin’ girl.” He gives you a little wink and you’re not quite sure if it’s that, or if it was the way he’d used a pet name that knocks all the wind out of your lungs. “Please, just call me Joel.”

You nod and shyly agree to it. “Okay, then. Joel.”

“S’much better.” His grin widens and a prominent, deep dimple appears on the left side of his cheek.

There’s a silence that follows, but it’s not awkward or weird. It’s comfortable—being in his presence is comfortable. His sweet disposition makes you feel so calm, so at ease.

Joel’s always been a nice man of course, although your interactions with him had been limited—kind, quick hello’s in passing on Sundays whenever he’d come over to watch football with your dad, maybe a polite how are you here and there if you bumped into him at gatherings like a backyard barbecue or birthday party. But you’re older now, no longer the child who greeted her father’s best friend because it was bad manners if she didn’t. You don’t want to throw him that kind, quick hello or that polite how are you and then scurry off the way you used to as a little kid. You actually want to talk to Joel Miller.

But you suddenly remember he’s not here for you.

He’s here for your father.

Joel!” Your mother screeches, five-inch high heels clacking loudly as she descends the staircase. She had ditched the apron and hair rollers—and put on one too many layers of her heaviest perfume. With a delighted squeal, she rushes up to Joel and pulls him into a bone crushing hug, almost causing him to drop the box he’s still holding. “Oh, it is so good to see you! It’s been far too long!”

You force back a small, amused snort.

As if she hadn’t been judging the man for a failed marriage just minutes ago in the kitchen.

It’s performative, too over the top to be sincere.

“S’good to see you too.” He steps back and laughs as he adjusts his glasses with one of his hands. He holds out the box to her with the other. “Picked up a pecan pie on the way over here. I would’a tried to make it myself, but the kitchen’s still all packed up in boxes.” He pauses, laughing again. “Then again, I ain’t really much of a baker. Store bought was for the best I reckon,” he admits, sheepishly. When he shrugs his shoulders, his shirt strains a bit over his frame and even your mother can’t help but stare a little.

Lightly clearing her throat, she takes the box from him and reminds him, “Didn’t I tell you that all you had to bring tonight was a nice, healthy appetite?”

Joel lightly pats his stomach. “Brought that too. In fact, I didn’t eat a thing all day long. I’m absolutely starvin’ right now. Could eat a whole horse.”

“Good! Dinner’s going to be served soon. William’s in the living room with the boys, watching football game after football game. Come with me, I’m sure you’re eager to see him.” Your mother spins on her heel and hands you the dessert. “Sweetie, will you be a gem and go put this in the kitchen for me?” It isn’t a request, it’s an order masked as a request—it’s the kindest she’s been to you all day. She takes Joel’s arm and leads him down the hallway, calling out over her shoulder, “And please set the table!”

You do set the table, and when you do, you decide to sit yourself right next to Joel Miller.

Your mother lightly clinks her knife against the rim of her wine glass and clears her throat. “Everyone! It’s time to join hands and say grace before we dig into our meal,” she announces, her voice breaking through the loud, buzzing chatter at the table. She waits until there’s complete silence and then takes her seat, the chair adjacent to your father’s. You’re on his opposite side and Joel’s right beside you. “I think you should do the honor, William. You are the man of the house, after all.”

Nodding, your father begins the prayer.

“Heavenly Father, bless this food we are about—”

You’re not listening. You’re distracted by the jolt of electricity that zips through your entire body when you put your hand in Joel’s. His hand dwarfs yours and it’s rough and calloused, but somehow it’s the most gentle, soothing touch. Heat prickles at your face and neck when you feel him sweep his thumb across the back of your hand—you open your eyes and glance over at him, wondering if that had just been an accident. You’re convinced it was, until he does it again, running his finger over each knuckle one at a time. Slowly, like he’s savoring the touch.

Biting your lip, you give his hand a gentle squeeze.

His head is bowed and his eyes are still closed, but a faint smile tugs lightly at the corner of his mouth and he firmly squeezes your hand back. There’s an unmistakable desire that’s already burning deep in your lower belly, a flame you can’t extinguish even when the angel on your shoulder reminds you that not only is Joel Miller twice your fucking age, he is also your father’s best friend. His best friend.

“…through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

“Amen,” your relatives chime together in unison.

You force out the declaration. “Amen.”

“Amen,” Joel murmurs, opening his eyes. He turns to you and his gaze flits to your hand in his and for a moment, it almost seems like he doesn’t want to let it go. It feels like Joel doesn’t want to let it go—and he doesn’t. He doesn’t let it go until the sound of your father’s loud, booming voice announcing it is time for him to carve the bird startles the two of you apart. Clearing his throat lightly, Joel turns his attention forward and reaches for his cabernet. He gulps down half his glass in one easy swallow.

Dinner’s fairly uneventful.

You eat in complete silence, as does Joel.

Part of you wonders if it’s because you’re sitting in between him and your father, the only person that he’s most comfortable conversing with. Assuming this is the case, you’re just about to ask him if he’d like to trade places when he turns to you and says, “Your dad told me you went to school in Chicago.”

He’s just being friendly, you remind yourself when your heart starts to flutter wildly at the notion that he wants to talk to you. He’s friendly. That’s all. It doesn’t mean anything.

“Yeah. I did.” You pick up your glass of wine, taking a sip hoping it’ll ease the nerves. “I graduated over the summer and took a teaching job out there.”

“You became a teacher?”

“Yeah. I teach kindergarten.” You smile proudly.

“Can you believe that, Joel?” Your father lets out a scoff and shakes his head. “I spent thousands and thousands of dollars to send her to school. All that money and for what? For her to learn how to teach little ankle biters how to color inside the lines?” He rolls his eyes and gestures to your two brothers on the opposite side of the table. “Now my boys, they are smart. Chose good careers to pursue. Brandon starts applying to medical school in the spring. Oh and Matthew? He got early acceptance to Yale. He plans on studying law.” He shifts his attention over to you once more and shrugs. “Not too sure where I went wrong with this one.”

You stare at him in complete and utter disbelief.

“Dad.”

Chortling, he waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, come on, honey. I’m just kidding around. You know that I don’t mean it.” He then reaches out, pinching your cheek roughly. “Don’t be so sensitive,” he tells you before turning his attention back to his plate.

But he does mean it.

His comments hurt, and you hate that they hurt.

Joel nudges your arm with his. “Y’know somethin’, it takes someone real special to become a teacher, ‘specially to kids that age,” he states in a matter of fact tone. “Someone who’s real sweet and patient, someone real smart too. Someone just like you.”

Warmth radiates through your entire body. It’s not just his words, but it’s the sincerity behind them.

You shoot him a small, grateful smile.

The two of you wind up talking to one another.

Joel’s moving his contracting business, bringing it back to Austin from Phoenix to run it with Tommy, his younger brother who you vaguely remembered meeting a time or two in the past. He mentions his daughter here and there, but doesn’t bring Connie up once—perhaps it’s too painful for him? It’s hard to tell. He seems to be in good spirits and truth be told, it doesn’t appear he’s mourning his marriage; but it’s difficult to believe he’s not missing her, the woman he’d spent three decades of his life with. It shouldn’t even matter to you whether he’s missing his ex-wife or not, if there are residual feelings still lingering around. But it does matter and you don’t know why. Or maybe you do know why, but you’re too ashamed to admit it.

“Do you like Chicago?” Joel questions, curiously.

Shrugging, you respond, “Yeah. It’s a cool city.”

“You plan on stayin’ out there permanently?”

“I’m not too sure,” you admit. “It’s too expensive. I don’t want to live with a roommate forever. Unless teachers start getting paid more, I don’t think that I’ll ever be able to afford to live alone in Chicago.”

Joel seems hesitant about his next query. “Do you ever think ‘bout comin’ back to Austin at all?”

Suddenly, you’re not too sure about that either.

You’ve been itching to go back and get as far from Austin, Texas as possible, but now, it means being far from Joel Miller. There’s a deep, sinking feeling inside of your chest at the thought.

Realizing he’s still waiting for a response, you have no choice but to tell him the truth. “I don’t think I’ll ever come back here, to be honest. Not to stay.”

“Oh. I see.” He sounds disappointed. “Are you—do you plan on visitin’ home again for Christmas?”

“I do. I’ll be here for Christmas and New Year’s.”

He’s being friendly. He’s being friendly. He’s—

“It’d be real nice to see you again then.” Flushing a deep shade of red, subtle regret flashes across his features, as if he’d said it without thinking. Picking up his glass, he drains the rest of his wine and you can swear he’s nervous. About what he’d just said, and about whether or not your parents, who are in such close proximity, had overheard him. Because what business did he have in telling their daughter it would be nice to see her again?

They’re both much too preoccupied. Your father is attempting to be slick checking his text messages underneath the table and you can tell by the smirk on his face that it’s one of his secretaries. He’s got a penchant for perky blondes in tight pencil skirts. Your mother is well aware of this. She is also aware he’s on his phone, but she turns a blind eye just as she always does and distracts herself by being the perfect hostess.

Feeling foolishly courageous, you turn back to him and nod, heart pounding against your sternum. “It would. It’d be very nice, actually.”

Relieved, he nods and murmurs quietly, “We’ll talk ‘bout it later, then. That okay, darlin’?”

Not wanting to seem too eager, you nod again and turn away from him, teeth sinking into your lip in a futile attempt to hide the giddiness in your smile—but the soft chuckle Joel elicits under his breath is a clear indication that it’s useless.

He knows how he’s making you feel. He likes it.

Your mother returns from the kitchen carrying two baskets of fresh crescent rolls, one for each end of the table. She sets one of them down right in front of you and you reach out to take one when a voice, one that sounds as awful as nails scraping down a chalkboard, remarks loudly, “Should you be eating so much bread, dear?” Ines, who’s sitting a couple chairs down, next to your grandmother, looks over at you and raises an eyebrow. There’s a smug little smile on her face, almost as if she were daring you to run your mouth like you’d done last year.

For as much as it pains you, you make your choice and decide not to take the bait. You pull your hand out of the basket of rolls and pick up your glass of wine instead, chugging it down like it’s water.

Frowning, Joel picks up the basket and takes a roll that you assume is for himself, but it’s not. Putting it on your plate, he shoots her a frigid glare. “Don’t you listen to her.” He says it loud enough for her to hear him. “You just enjoy yourself, alright?”

Your aunt bats her eyes, innocently. “Well, I’m just saying. If my skirt was that tight on me, I would be thinking twice about what goes into my mouth.”

Hushed laughter sweeps across the entire table.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” You slam your empty glass down so hard onto the table that the entire dining room goes completely silent. The little ones at the children’s table stare with big and wide eyes, mouths full of food hung open because a grown up had just used a naughty word.

Your mother says your name warningly. “Don’t you start,” she hisses, shaking her head. “Be quiet.”

Angrily, you round on her. “Seriously? You’re going to let her say that to me? You don’t care that she’s making comments about my weight?” You almost laugh. Of course doesn’t care, she has never cared and she never will. “I’m your daughter! Would it kill you to defend me for once in your fucking life?”

“Shut your mouth!” Your father stands up, shoving a threatening finger into your face, so close the tip of it almost touches the tip of your nose. He hasn’t put his hands on you since you were nine, but he’s as drunk as he is angry, and you find yourself back in the shoes of the little girl who would curl up into a ball in the corner of her room as she begged and pleaded for him not to hurt her. “You hear me?”

Joel stands and walks around your chair. Placing a hand on your father’s chest, he mutters, “Hey now let’s take a step back from her, alright?” He guides him back down into his chair. “Ain’t gotta be in her face like that, Will.”

“I’m sick and tired of her ruining everything—can’t get through one dinner without her screwing it up! Always has to run that fucking mouth of hers! She still acts like a goddamn fucking child—”

You can’t bear to sit there and hear another insult.

Fighting back the hot tears that are threatening to spill over, you quickly stand up and rush out of the dining room. You make a beeline for the front door and step outside onto the porch. It’s about sixty or so degrees in Austin and the cold nips at your bare legs, but that’s the least of your worries. Without a place to go, you descend the porch steps and find yourself walking towards the swing that’s hanging from the old bur oak tree in the front yard. You had asked your father for a swing when you were three years old—it wasn’t until your brothers asked for a swing a couple years later that he’d hung one up.

You sit down, hands curling around the rope that’s so old and weathered it’s beginning to fray slightly but not so much so that you’re concerned about it snapping. You’re so busy trying to keep it together that you don’t notice the sound of crisp, autumnal leaves crunching under a pair of boots behind you. A hand gingerly touches your shoulder. You let out a startled gasp and glance over to see it’s Joel.

“Hey there, darlin’,” he says, gently.

You stare at him in surprise.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Needed to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” you grit the lie through your teeth.

Joel’s expression softens. “You ain’t gotta pretend with me, sweetheart.”

His concern is genuine. It’s real.

You don’t quite know how to handle it. Accept it.

“It got real ugly in there, ‘specially with your dad.”

Tears prickle at your eyes all over again. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Joel. I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” Baffled, Joel walks around the swing and a minor labored grunt escapes him as he squats in front of you. “There’s a few people who need to be apologizin’ for what happened, but darlin’ you sure as fuckin’ hell ain’t one of them.”

It’s odd. Feels foreign, even.

You’re not used to someone being on your side—it prompts more tears to spring forward and despite your best efforts to fight them off, it’s useless. You manage to whisper his name. It’s a feeble warning, one that’s telling him to go back inside before he’s caught in the torrential downpour of emotions you are mere seconds away from unleashing on him.

But he doesn’t budge. He waits. Joel knows you’re about to break and he’s ready to catch the pieces.

Finally, a tear slips and rolls down your cheek, only to be followed by another and then another. You’re holding onto the swing for dear life now, emotions that you’ve been holding in for your whole life now coming to the surface. The rope digs painfully into the palms of your hands. He reaches out and curls his fingers lightly around your wrists.

“S’okay to let go,” Joel encourages you and you’re certain he’s not just referring to the swing. “Listen to me, darlin’ girl. I ain’t gonna let you fall, alright? I’m right here to catch you. You can let go. I’ve got you, okay?”

You allow Joel to take your hands off the rope and he guides them around his shoulders as you begin to crumble. Leaning forward slightly off the swing, you wrap you arms around him and bury your face into his neck. “Joel,” you choke out his name as he wraps his own arms around your waist, pulling you closer into him.

He feels like stability.

He feels like security.

He feels like safety.

Your entire body shudders as you cry, cry, cry.

“S’alright, sweet girl. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

He repeats his reassurance over and over again.

He wants you to believe it.

And you do believe it.

Joel’s as patient as can be. It’s growing colder and his knees are begging for a change of positon, but couldn’t care less about the discomfort. He rubs a soothing circle into your back and waits until there is nothing left except little hiccups and sniffles.

“Shit,” you mumble when you pull back and notice you’d left behind a wet spot on his shirt along with light traces of mascara. You wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater. “I ruined your shirt.”

“S’okay. Nothin’ the dry cleaners can’t take care of for me.” Joel chuckles and lets go of you. “You feel a little better now, darlin’?”

“I do.” You glance over your shoulder at the house, then exhale a sigh and turn back to him, admitting quietly, “I don’t want to go back in there, though.”

He rises to his feet and pulls out a set of keys from the pocket of his black jeans. “Well, y’dont have to go back in there,” he states. “Is there somewhere I can take you? Friend’s house, maybe?”

“My best friend Megan went to Puerto Vallarta for Thanksgiving. Most of my other friends left Austin like I did,” you explain, sighing again. “Anyone who didn’t leave is spending their time with their family tonight and I don’t want to bother them.”

Joel hums, mulling it over in his mind. “Well, don’t know how comfortable you’ll be with the idea, but my place ain’t all too far from here. Ten minutes or so. Less if there’s no one out on the roads.”

“Joel, that’s so nice of you to offer, but I’ve already ruined your dinner tonight. The last thing I want to do is put you out even more,” you say, sheepishly.

“Sweetheart, you didn’t ruin a fuckin’ thing for me tonight. And you wouldn’t be puttin’ me out at all,” he promises. “S’gettin’ late and truth be told, I just wanna get you somewhere warm.” Holding out his free hand, he adds, “And comfortable.”

“But Joel—”

“I can be real stubborn too, y’know,” he teases you with a playful grin. “We’ll be out here all night long freezin’ our fuckin’ asses off.”

He isn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Okay,” you relent, accepting the offer.

You place your hand in his and he helps you off the swing. He doesn’t let it go as he leads the way to a sleek, black Dodge Ram that’s parked behind your grandfather’s silver Mercedes. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze before dropping it. “Sorry, sweet girl. It’s a bit of a trip up into the seat,” he remarks, chuckling as he opens the passenger side door for you. He gives you a boost into the truck; the scent of new leather is mixed with that of his cologne. It is all man and couldn’t be sexier. “Good up there?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

Joel closes the door and hurriedly walks around to the driver’s side of the pickup, climbing up into his seat with ease. “Seatbelt,” he tells you as he sticks the key into the ignition. The first thing he does as soon as the engine roars to life is turn on your seat warmer. He switches on the heater as well, waiting a minute before asking, “You warm enough?”

“I am. Thank you, Joel.”

“‘Course.” He nods and pulls away from the curb.

As Joel’s driving you further and further from your parents’ house, all you feel is sweet relief.

“M’sorry the place is such a mess.”

Joel leads you into his living room and touches his hand to the back of his neck, embarrassed.

Amused, you raise an eyebrow at him and say, “I’d hardly call cardboard boxes stacked neatly over on one side of the room a mess, Joel.” You take a look around his townhouse—most of his furniture’s still wrapped up in plastic, except for the black leather couch and the rustic, acacia wood coffee table. He has a flat screen mounted over the brick fireplace; he’s been sleeping on the couch, or at least, that’s what the pillow and Texas Longhorns fleece throw tells you. You turn to him. “If you want to see a real mess, you should see my apartment in Chicago.”

You watch him as he takes off his glasses and puts them down on the coffee table.

“S’it pretty bad?”

“My roommate’s a kindergarten teacher too. You’d be surprised at how many popsicle sticks two girls in their twenties can end up bringing home. Not to mention all the glitter.”

“If you’re tryin’ to make me feel better, it’s workin’ like a charm.” Joel picks up his blanket and drapes it over the armchair adjacent to the couch. “Go on and make yourself comfortable, darlin’. You thirsty at all? I’ve got water or I can make coffee. Also got a pack of beer in the fridge,” he adds, jokingly.

“What kind of beer?” you ask curiously as you sink down onto the couch.

He seems pleasantly surprised by your interest.

“Lone Star.”

“I’ll have one. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“‘Course it’s not too much trouble. Not at all.”

It’s hard not to stare as he walks away towards the kitchen. Your thighs clench together—his back, his shoulders, those unkempt salt and pepper curls of his that tuft at the nape of his neck right above his collar—this man is the epitome of utter perfection. Your mind wanders and you can’t help imagine the way your legs would look thrown over those broad shoulders. How his large hands would feel on your plush skin as they wrap around your thighs to hold them in place against his chest while he fucks y—

“Here you go, darlin’.”

Joel’s deep voice shatters your train of thought.

He’s standing beside you, holding out the bottle of beer, which he’d uncapped along with his own.

Blood rushes to your cheeks. “Thank you,” you say as you accept the beer from him, trying not to lose the sliver of composure that you’re holding onto—it wavers when your fingers accidentally brush his.

“S’it too cold in here for you?” he asks. “I normally keep the thermostat pretty low.”

“It’s a little cold,” you admit. “But it’s not a prob—”

It’s too late. Joel walks over to the fireplace and he manages to strike a match and light it with just his free hand. After tossing in a couple logs, he makes his way back over to the couch and he takes a seat beside you. “That a bit better, sweetheart?”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugs. “You said it was cold.”

He takes a long, generous swig of the golden lager before setting the bottle down on one of the green ceramic coasters on the coffee table. He sits back; an arm stretches out over the back of the couch in a casual manner and his legs spread open causing your thighs to clench together once more.

“You feelin’ alright?”

“Huh?” You then realize he is referring to what had happened at dinner. “Oh. Um. Yeah, I’m alright.”

Joel peers at you, his concern evident, clear in the depths of his dark brown eyes. “You sure?”

“No. Not really,” you confess, tracing the mouth of your bottle with your index finger. “But I’ll get over it. I don’t have a choice but to get over it.” Another lump starts forming in the back of your throat and you swallow it, quickly chasing it down with a gulp of beer.

“M’guessin’ your family’s got somethin’ to do with why you decided to leave Austin?”

“Bingo,” you deadpan. “I was so sick and tired of it all. How I was talked to, how I was treated. Like I’m such a fucking disappointment.”

He frowns. “You’re not a disappointment, though.”

“My parents think I’m a disappointment. My dad’s never told me he’s proud of me, Joel. Nothing I do, nothing I have ever done is good enough for either of them, but especially not for him.” There is a dull ache that settles in your heart and all you can do is silently will yourself not to breakdown again, not in front of him, at least. You sigh. “Do you know what it’s like, not feeling good enough for someone that is supposed to love you no matter what? Someone who’s supposed to love you unconditionally?”

Joel knows it’s a rhetorical question, he knows it’s not something you’re expecting him to answer.

But he does answer, because he does know.

“I do, actually. I know all too well what it feels like.”

He looks down at his left hand, which is resting on his thigh and you do too. Your eyes flicker over the fading tanline on his finger—where he once wore a wedding band. You don’t even think twice about it and reach over, sweeping your own finger over the patch of pale skin. Without missing a beat, you tell him, “You’re good enough, Joel.”

He can’t help but laugh a little. “She’d disagree.”

“She’s wrong.”

“You don’t know what happened.”

“I don’t have to know what happened.”

“That ain’t how it works, sweetheart.”

Stubbornly, you lift your chin. “I don’t care.”

Joel laughs. “Y’think you know me, darlin’? Y’think you know what kinda man I am? Hm?”

“I do know.” You place your hand on top of his and his jaw clenches. “You’re a good man, Joel Miller. I know that you’re a good man.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong ‘bout that.” There’s a brief pause and he hesitates before confessing, “A good man wouldn’t be sittin’ here just fuckin’ dyin’ to kiss his best friend’s daughter.”

You freeze and grip your bottle so tight, you would not be the slightest bit surprised if it shatters right in your hand. “You—you want to kiss me?”

“Since the moment you opened up that front door and said hello to me.” Joel shakes his head. “S’not right.” He’s riddled with guilt, with shame. He pulls his hand out from under yours. “I ain’t a good man at all. You’re half my fuckin’ age and I shouldn’t—”

You cut him off, softly uttering his name. “Joel?”

“Yeah?” His voice sounds hoarse. Strained.

“Can you—will you kiss me? Please?”

You need more than just his kiss, so much more.

You need him to unravel you in every way possible, but beggars can’t be choosers and if one kiss was all you’ll get tonight, then you’ll fucking take it.

Joel swallows dryly. “That really what you want?”

His eyes flicker down to your lips and then back to meet your sweet, innocent gaze.

“Yes,” you breathe in reply. “Please. Kiss me.”

He leans in, and there’s brief hesitation on his part and he stops mere centimeters from your face, his nose lightly brushing against yours. “We shouldn’t be doin’ this.” His warm breath fans over your lips; they’re parted, eager to meet his own. “I shouldn’t let this happen. I—I should take you back home to your family before I do somethin’ real stupid.”

Your heart sinks. “That really what you want?” you parrot his own question back to him and hold your breath, knowing there’s a chance his answer could be the answer that you don’t want to hear, the one that could end up crushing you.

Joel lifts his hand, cupping the side of your face in his palm. “‘Course it’s not what I want.” His thumb strokes your cheek, his dark eyes taking in each of your features. He’s studying, memorizing them, as if he’ll never get another chance to be this close to you again. With the line he’s about to cross, you’re both about to cross, that just might be the case.

The tension seeps through your skin and into your bones.

You exhale shakily. “Then just kiss me already.”

He moves his hand and gently curls it around your chin, holding you steady as he leans further in and closes the gap of space in between you. He moves slowly and he’s gentle—too gentle. You want to tell him you’re not made of porcelain, but you’re much too preoccupied with how Joel’s mouth feels, how perfectly it molds against yours. He delicately nips your bottom lip with his teeth. It’s a silent request.

He wants more, more, more. Your lips part for him, granting him the access he’s seeking. Joel doesn’t waste a single moment and he explores every inch of your mouth with his tongue, eliciting a whimper from you. Without breaking contact, he takes your beer and somehow he manages to lean over to set it down on the coffee table without dropping it. He then pushes you back into the couch and the next thing you know, you’re lying on your back and he’s settled in between your legs, using one of his arms to keep himself propped up, while the other wraps itself in your hair. Your own hands clutch at fistfuls of his shirt, fingers gripping the fabric so tight, the skin over your knuckles stretches painfully thin.

You whimper out again, the noise prompting a low growl to rumble through his chest—suddenly, he’s not being so gentle. He isn’t being rough. But he is hungry, he’s possessive, and he’s letting it show in the way he’s swelling your lips with his kisses, how his fingers are gripping the hair at the base of your neck as he firmly tilts your head backwards to give himself better access to your mouth.

Your mind is racing, and yet, you can’t think at all.

It’s not until his hips buck into you and you feel his bulge through his jeans against you that you break away from him. “Joel,” you gasp his out name. You grip his shirt even harder, chest heaving as you try to catch a much needed breath of air. You can feel the arousal pooling between your legs. The flames burning in the fireplace are nothing in comparison to the ones that are burning deep in your belly.

“Fuck,” he curses, pulling back. “M’sorry—”

The last thing you want is for him to be sorry.

“No! Please don’t be sorry,” you rasp, gazing up at him. Your eyes are glazed over with a lust you have never felt for another man before. “I want this, you know I want this—don’t you?”

Joel sighs, brushing a soft kiss to your temple. You wish he could take a peek into your mind, see how badly you want to be wrapped up in his arms—you want to get lost in his embrace, feel him all around you, inside you. You want him to write his name on your bare skin with his tongue, whisper his secrets into the spot where you’re aching for him most.

He sighs again and lightly shakes his head.

“Baby, y’need to think real hard ‘bout this—”

“I want this,” you repeat yourself. “I want you.”

Relaxing the death grip you have on his shirt, your hands release the fabric and move to the buttons. Your fingers tremble slightly as you undo each one of them; after an embarrassing fumble or two, you manage to get them all and push Joel’s shirt off of his shoulders. He sucks in a quick, sharp breath as your greedy hands begin roaming, exploring every inch of smooth, tan skin on his upper body.

Your touch erases all the uncertainty he’s feeling.

“Wanna feel you too, baby.” Joel takes the hem of your sweater and gestures for you to sit up slightly so he can pull it over your head. Carelessly tossing it somewhere behind him, he glances down, blood rushing to his cock as he takes in the sight of your supple curves clad in sweet, delicate white lace. “Christ, you look so fuckin’ soft.”

He doesn’t even realize he’s saying it out loud, not until he catches the flirtatious little grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. You sit up slightly once again and reach behind you to unhook the lingerie and take it off, adding it to the ever growing pile of clothes on the hardwood floor. Licking his lips, he meets your gaze for just a moment before dipping his head down, wrapping them around one of your hardened nipples. “Joel,” you mewl his name as he flicks the pebbled flesh with his tongue.

Joel releases it with a lewd, wet pop and he tosses you a smirk before he moves to the other to give it the same attention. He’s a biter, you find out as he takes it between his teeth, nipping over and over.

Your throbbing center clenches around nothing.

“Joel, please. I need you—I fucking need you.”

He tears away from your nipple. “Where, baby?”

You open your mouth to answer him, but your own gasp cuts you off as he starts trailing his lips down the length of your body until he comes to a stop at the waistband of your skirt. One of his hands finds the zipper on the side and he looks up at you, as if asking for permission. Desperate, you nod. Pulling the zipper down, he slides the skirt, along with the pair of lace white panties you’re wearing off of you and discards them, leaving you completely naked.

Your insecurities begin to trickle in, but Joel’s able to halt them right in their tracks.

“You’re too fuckin’ beautiful, sweetheart,” he says, his reassurance calming your nerves instantly. “So beautiful. So beautiful and so fuckin’ perfect.”

You watch as he makes himself comfortable—well as comfortable as he can—in between your legs. He shoots you a sheepish look.

“Knew I should’a put the damn bed together. But I been puttin’ it off and puttin’ it off all week long.”

You giggle breathlessly. “Who needs a bed?”

Chuckling, Joel feathers a kiss on your inner thigh.

Your smile is all but slapped right off of your face.

“Joel.”

Any traces of humor vanish. You’re both reminded of the next wall that’s about to be broken, the next line that’s about to be crossed.

He looks down and groans. “Such a pretty, perfect little pussy,” he remarks, his voice low, husky. “Bet she’s nice and wet for me, ain’t she baby?” He lifts his hand and drags the tip of his finger up your slit slowly, your slick coating his digit. He smirks up at you. “Oh, she’s fuckin’ soakin’, sweet girl. S’this all for me?”

Foreplay wasn’t in the vocabulary of guys your age and while part of you wishes Joel would hurry, you also find yourself enjoying the fact that he’s taking his time, teasing you—making you really want it to the point where you’re willing to fucking plead him for it. Joel Miller’s the only man you’d ever beg for.

He skims your other thigh with his nose and kisses it just like he’d done with the other. “Tell me darlin’ s’this where you need me? Right here?”

Frantically, you nod your head.

“Words, honey. Gotta use your words for me.”

“Yes!” you choke out. “That’s where I need you. So bad. Need you so fucking bad. Please Daddy—”

You freeze and momentarily, he does too. Truth be told, you wouldn’t really blame him if he just stood up, gathered your clothes and tossed them at you, demanding you put them back on and leave.

Joel raises an eyebrow. “Daddy, huh?”

Your face is on fire. “I—it slipped,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to call you—I’m so sorry, Joel. I’m not even sure where that came from. I’ve never—”

You’re on the verge of panicking, then notice there is a certain glimmer in his eyes and realize he liked it when you’d called him that. You’re taken aback.

He fucking likes being called Daddy.

“Sweetheart, there ain’t nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout. I promise. You can call me that. But on a condition.”

You stare at him, no idea what the condition could possibly be.

“Ain’t allowed to call anyone else that. Ever.” There is a possessiveness in his tone and it nearly makes you come on the spot. “That understood?”

You nod obediently. “Yes.”

“Yes what?” he prompts.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good. That’s a real good girl, honey.”

For a split second, you can’t breathe.

This man will surely be the death of you.

Joel plants one final kiss, this one on your mound.

“Please,” you whimper, the heat in your lower belly growing and fizzling out to the rest of your body at the feeling of his breath over your aching core.

“Please what?” he murmurs into the sensitive skin as his arms curl around your legs. “Tell Daddy—tell Daddy what you need baby, so he can take care of you.”

“Your mouth,” you beg him, desperation mounting with each passing second. Your hips buck upward; his biceps flex as he tightens his arms around your thighs, pinning you down in place. “Your mouth—I need your mouth. Please.”

Joel moves his head to the junction of your thighs, his mouth hovering right over where you needed it the most. He looks up at you with hunger, like he’s a ravenous, starved man who hasn’t had a thing to eat in days. “What a good girl,” he praises, dipping his head even lower. His mouth waters at the sight of your glistening folds. “Bet you taste as delicious as you fuckin’ look, don’t you, pretty girl?”

He flattens his tongue and glides it up your slit, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he gets his first taste. You gasp out when it grazes your swollen, aroused clit and your head falls back onto the couch. “Oh fuck,” you whine, reaching for his hair. You weave your hands through his graying locks and pull his face closer. Another swipe of his tongue causes your back to arch up off the leather and the edges of your vision to blur.

He pulls an arm from around your legs and drags a finger down your drenched entrance, lips securing themselves around your clit. His gaze stays locked on you as he pushes his long, thick digit into you—you feel him smirk as he curls it upwards, pressing the pad of his finger firmly against the soft spongy spot inside you, making you see stars. Joel slips in a second finger and curls it along with the other to double the pleasure. He begins thrusting his digits in and out of your warm cunt, eliciting what had to be the sweetest sounds that he’d ever heard in his entire life from you. He combines it with with slow, firm, and precise stokes of his tongue on your clit.

“Fuck, yes, just like that,” you encourage him, your loud, breathy moans bouncing off the bare, freshly painted walls of his house. “Yes Daddy, fuck—feels so fucking good, please don’t fucking stop—”

It’s not like you have to tell him what to do.

Joel knows exactly what he’s doing, and he knows it too. He listens to every single one of your moans and feels every single buck of your hips. He is sure to pay extra attention to when your hands pull and tug at his curls; he remembers what combinations of licking, sucking, and fucking make you squeeze your plush thighs tighter around his head; reminds himself of which technique brings your body off of the couch, what makes your toes curl. Joel’s quick to learn your body’s cues, each and every last one. He already knows when to give you more, when to give you less—when he needs speed up, when it is time to slow it all down.

You sing his name over and over again, pressure of an orgasm already building between your hips. His tongue swirls around your sensitive little bundle of nerves as his fingers pump in and out of your cunt and you glance down. You almost choke when you catch a tiny glimpse of the muscles in his forearm, the way they flex underneath his skin with each of his movements as he’s fucking you. Your gaze flits to his face. His own eyes are fixed intently on you.

You’re milliseconds away from release.

“Joel, I’m so fucking close. I’m gonna come—”

His arm squeezes your thigh in encouragement.

One last, broad stroke of Joel’s tongue on your clit sends an overwhelming wave of pleasure crashing over you. Strangled cries tear themselves from the back of your throat as your velvet walls flutter and convulse, squeezing his fingers. Joel, who’s face is still half buried in your pussy, takes it upon himself to help you ride through the high. He peppers soft, delicate kisses onto your swollen clit as his fingers continue to slide in and out of you slowly. He waits patiently until your loud cries dissolve into nothing but breathless little whimpers before he crawls up, positioning himself on top of you, a hand on either side of your head. His beard and mustache glisten with a mixture of saliva and slick—and somehow it it ignites another fire and you’re ready for more, so much more.

“Sweet girl,” Joel murmurs. Leaning down, his lips meet yours and you taste yourself on his tongue

You place a hand on his chest, right over his heart, which beats strong and steady against your palm.

You start dragging your hand down his chest, your fingernails raking over his skin. It travels lower and lower, gliding over the softness of his stomach. He tenses when you brush the waistband of his jeans.

Tearing away from you, he grits out, “Baby. No.”

You immediately snatch your hand away from him.

“You changed your mind?” you question, stomach sinking at the thought of it being over already.

You’re just so fucking greedy for this man.

He offers reassurance—and an explanation.

“No, that ain’t it at all. S’just—” Joel pauses briefly and flushes a shade of red. “S’just that, well, I ain’t got condoms on me, darlin’.”

Relieved, you assure him, “It’s okay. I’m clean.”

“Me too. But that ain’t what I’m worried about,” he admits, his face going from red to maroon.

You smile, finding his embarrassment endearing.

“I’m on birth control.”

Joel clenches his hands into fists. His cock strains against his zipper at the thought of it—taking your cunt bare. “Y’sure you want this?” He rasps out. “I need you to be a hundred percent sure ‘bout it.”

“I’m a thousand percent sure, Joel. I fucking need it. More than anything I’ve ever needed in my life.”

That’s all he needed to hear.

Joel stands up, his gaze never leaving your own as he kicks off his black leather boots. You sit up, and it takes every ounce of strength you have in you to remain composed as he unbuckles his belt, unzips his jeans and pushes them down his legs. You bite down on your bottom lip and try not to stare at his bulge like it’s your first time ever seeing a dick, but if he’s as big as he looks in his boxer briefs, maybe this would end up being a lot more than what your body could handle.

He hooks his thumbs underneath the elastic of his boxer briefs and slides them off, allowing his thick, hard cock to spring free from its confinement.

You swallow harshly. He’s fucking massive.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” Joel chuckles at the expression on your face as he kicks aside all of his clothes. His length rests on his lower abdomen and precome smears the skin there. Wrapping one of his hands around it, he gives it a couple strokes, just a hint of relief until you come into play. “Hm?”

Licking your lips, you nod and stand up. You take a couple of wobbling step towards him—Joel’s cock hasn’t been anywhere near you and you’re already fucking walking side to side. “Come here,” you say to him, taking both his hands in your own. You pull him back to the couch and gently guide him down into a sitting position. Swinging your leg over both of his, you straddle his lap. You gingerly place your hands on his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh softly when you feel him brush against your pussy; the contact makes you both moan in unsion. “This okay?” you ask him, breathily. You can’t be sure as to why you’re suddenly feeling a bit shy, like you’re not planning to ride his fucking soul out of him.

“More than okay.” Joel brushes your hair over your shoulder and then drags his hand down the length of your body, committing to his memory every one of your curves. “Gonna be a real good girl and ride my cock, baby?”

You gift him with a cheeky grin. “Yes, Daddy.”

The shyness begins to dissipate and you dive your hand between your bodies, wrapping it around his cock, causing his breath to catch in his throat. You lift yourself slightly off his lap, teasingly gliding the head of his cock down your drenched slit, then up, letting it graze over your clit, which is still senstive to the touch thanks to his lips and tongue.

Joel’s hands find their way around you, running up the curve of your spine. “Wasn’t aware that my girl was such a little fuckin’ tease,” he remarks in a low tone. He slides his hands back down and his large, warm palms cup your ass, fingers kneading flesh.

“Your girl?” you repeat, your heart skipping a beat, stomach fluttering at the idea of being his. “Is that what I am to you, Joel? Your girl?”

“S’that what you want, honey?” Joel whispers, his eyes finding your own, two hopeful gazes meeting in the deepest, most intimate moment that you’ve shared all evening. “Y’wanna be my girl?”

Leaning forward, your reply is preceded by kiss, so soft and so sweet his heart swells inside his chest.

“I do,” you mumble against his lips. “I really do.”

Still gripping your ass, Joel eases you up and lines himself up at your entrance. He bucks his hips and slides the head of his cock past your folds and into your heat. “Breathe, baby,” he whispers, his hands moving to your hips, thumbs grazing your skin. He slowly guides you further down his shaft, grunting as you sink down, taking him inch by inch. “Christ, you’re so goddamn fuckin’ tight—”

The initial stretch is almost too much for you. Your nails sink deeper into his shoulders as he pulls you down further down onto him. “Joel,” you whimper, biting back a loud cry. You’re fully seated, his cock completely sheathed inside you, his head pressing against your cervix. You’re so full of him.

One of his hands abandons your hip and slips over your lower belly.

“This where you’re feelin’ me, pretty girl?” he coos gently. “This where you feel Daddy’s cock? In your belly?”

“Yes,” you sigh out contentedly. “Feels so good.”

You lift yourself off of him, then slide back down in a slow, languid motion.

Joel’s head falls back onto the couch. “Christ.” He mutters the word, his chest heaving. Staring up at the ceiling, he takes a moment to catch his breath and silently wills himself not to explode. Once he’s managed to somewhat compose himself, he looks at you again, pupils blown so wide you can’t find a single trace of brown. “Go on, then,” he rasps. “Go on, sweetheart.”

The living room fills with the sounds of low moans and panting breaths as you move, alternating your maneuvers between rocking and bouncing on him in a frenzied, fast paced rhythm. The friction of his pelvis each time you grind into it winds up the coil between your hips and suddenly you’re desperate, so pathetically desperate for another release.

“Yeah, that’s it baby,” Joel encourages, feeling the beginning of his own climax building quick—much too quick for his liking. “Jus’ like that, honey. What a good girl you are for me, so fuckin’ good for me. Just like I fuckin’ knew you would be.”

“Fuck,” you whine. “You feel so good, Daddy. Feel so fucking good inside me—”

Leaning back, you firmly plant both your hands on his thighs and arch your body, head falling back as you pick up the pace. The burning fire casts a soft, orange glow around you and his jaw falls slack. His eyes drink in every single fucking thing about you, watch you with an adoration that, for the first time in your whole life, makes you feel wanted. Actually wanted.

“Joel,” you whisper his name over and over. You’re both beginning to lose track of where you end and he begins. You can hardly hear the praises that are spilling from his plush lips over the squelching wet sounds of your cunt sliding up and down his cock. There’s no chance to warn him—your mouth parts in a silent scream as you come undone on him.

“M’so fuckin’ close,” Joel grunts. He feels his cock twitch as your pussy grips him like a vice. “Where? Where do you want it, pretty girl?”

“Inside me. Please, I need you to come inside me,” you plead him, the innocent tone of your voice the last thing to push him over the edge he’s teetering on. “Fill me up, Daddy—please, want every drop of you inside me—”

Joel reaches for your arms and yanks you forward, into him. Throwing them around his neck, his own arms wrap around you and roughly slam you down onto him, holding you firmly in place. He bucks his hips upwards, balls tightening, his cock pulsing as he comes. Strings of hissed curse words and deep gutteral groans muffle when he drops his face into your collarbone. Still holding you in place, he spills his load into you, his seed filling you to the brim.

He sags back against the couch and pulls you with him. Wrapping his arms tighter around you, he lets himself stay buried inside of you, the primal in him relishing the heavenly feeling of his come dripping messily out of your pussy and all over his thighs.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he asks after a minute.

“M’perfect,” you mumble against his chest. You’re not sure if it’s because you’re coming down from a high or if it’s because he’s tracing patterns on your shoulder blade with his finger, but you shiver in his arms.

“Let me get the blanket—”

Joel starts to move to get up, but you stop him.

“No, please don’t,” you say, pushing him back. You put all of your weight onto him, as if he can’t move you off to the side if he really wanted to. “I—I want you inside me for a little while longer. Please.”

“But baby, you’re cold��”

You don’t bother explaining to him that you’re not.

“Just hold me. Please.”

And that’s exactly what he does.

Snuggling into him, you close your eyes and Joel’s hand strokes at your hair. Between that, the thrum of his heartbeat against your cheek and the sound of the fireplace crackling behind you, you’re nearly soothed into sleep.

“Joel?”

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“I hate Thanksgiving,” you admit, smiling tiredly to yourself when you feel a laugh rumble in his chest.

“Do you, now?”

You nod. “I do. But I’m really thankful for you.”

Giving you a gentle squeeze, Joel kisses the top of your head and murmurs, “Well, m’thankful for you too, sweet girl.” He pauses momentarily. “I ain’t all too sure how I’m s’pposed to just let you go home. I know I have to but—”

Lifting your head off of his chest, you take the side of his face and cradle it in your palm. You meet his gaze, heart sinking when you see the sadness that has replaced the lust from earlier.

He doesn’t mean home to your parents’ house. He means Chicago.

You graze his beard with your thumb. “I’m coming back in a few weeks,” you remind him, gently. “I’ve only planned to spend a week out here just for the holidays, but I can visit sooner. As soon as the kids go on winter break, I can come back to Austin.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Of course I would, Joel. I’m not sure how it would work what with my parents and all, though. I don’t want them catching onto us.”

“C’mere.” Joel brushes your lips with his before he makes his promise. “I’ll figure it out, baby. Leave it all to me and I’ll figure it out.”

divider credit to @saradika-graphics 🤎

#asdfghjkl BYE #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x reader #dbf!joel #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x y/n #joel miller au #dbf joel miller #dbf joel x reader #fic: someone to be thankful for

3K notes · View notes

harrysfolklore · 15 days

Note

another instagram prompt with madison beer as face claim but relationship focused please!! 🥺

WELL HELLO THIS IS MY FIRST F1 BLURB 🥹 i’m kinda nervous idk why but i hope you like it! i left this open for a part two so lmk if that’s something you’d like to see

btw this is obviously inspired by taylor and joe breakup and taylor and travis lol, also harry ilysm sorry for making you the villain here, anyways, ENJOY!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by arianagrande, sabrinacarpenter and 5,028,299 others

yourinstagram THE SPINNIN TOUR STATRS IN 10 DAYS 🥲🤍 who am i seeing there??

view all 76,044 comments

ynfan1 SO FUCKING EXCITED

conangray LETS GO 🔥

ynfan2 this is going to be the biggest concert tour in history and i’m so serious

↳ ynfan1 i mean the pre sale broke ticketmaster, three stadium dates on each city sold out. it’s going to be insane

harryfan1 i can’t wait for the boyfriend harry content this tour is going to give us

ynfan3 she’s getting ready to make history

annetwist ❤️❤️❤️

harryfan2 soooo ready to see harry at the vip box on opening night and all the other nights

dualipa an angel 🤍

oliviarodrigo 💘

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 6,754 others

harryupdates Harry out in London today !

view all 309 comments

harryfan1 MY BUUUUB

ynfan1 what is he doing in london??? the spinnin tour starts today

harryfan2 HARRY GET YOUR ASS TO ARIZONA RN

ynfan2 he’s not attending opening night :(

harryfan3 what is he mad about lol

liked by charles_leclerc, sza and 6,826,239 others

yourinstagram 7th night of the spinnin tour done ! houston thank you so much for your love and your loud singing, i’m making the best memories of my life on this tour thanks to you 🤎

view all 78,203 comments

ynfan1 TOUR OF THE CENTURY

conangray this tour changed my life fr

↳ ynfan2 BEST OPENING ACT EVER

harryfan1 okay but WHEN is harry doing his spinnin tour debut

↳ ynfan1 i wonder the same thing 🤔

arianagrande 🖤

charles_leclerc I can’t wait to see the show 🙌🏻

↳ charlesfan1 CHARLES ???

↳ charlesfan2 he’s a pop girlie wbk

harryfan2 get your ass to the next show NOW

liked by harryfan1, ynfan1 and 109,035 others

people It’s over 💔#YN and #HarryStyles are calling it quits after six years of dating. Tap the link in our bio for the full story.

view all 25,364 comments

harryfan1 WHAT?????

ynfan1 NO WAY

harryfan2 nah i don’t believe this

ynfan2 but what about lover??? delicate ??? pov??? so american ??? golden hour ?? paper rings ?? WERE ALL THOSE SONGS NOT REAL

harryfan3 man im so confused right now, how did this happen

ynfan2 lord she must be heartbroken and she has to continue with the tour performing for 70k people every night

harryfan4 this is clearly fake

liked by charlesfan1, ynfan1 and 29,827 others

profesionalfangirlie UM HELLO I JUST MET CHARLES LECLERC AT YN’S SHOW !!???? istg i just wanted a refill for my lavender haze margarita and he was there in line too WTF ?? #thespinnintour

view all 2,927 comments

charlesfan1 NO WAY 😭😭😭

ynfan1 THIS IS SUCH A SLAY

ynfan2 yn is a celebrity to celebrities

charlesfan2 HES SUCH A FANBOY

charlesfan3 i need to see him trading friendship bracelets

charlesfan4 HOTTEST MAN ALIVE

ynfan3 he’s about to experience the best show of his life

charlesfan5 THE CONTENT WE DESERVE

ynfan3 WAS HE AT THE VIP TENT??

↳ profesionalfangirlie i think he’s up there in a suite of the stadium with family and friends

↳ charlesfan1 OHHHH

liked by charlesfan1, charlesfan2 and 9,265 others

charlesupdates “I wanted to give YN a friendship bracelet with my number on it, since I knew her shows were all about friendship bracelets. She didn’t want to meet me after the show so I took it personal. Other than that the show was completely out of this world, she’s amazing.” -Charles on attending the Spinnin Tour for Fedez podcast !

view all 828 comments

charlesfan1 OMG???

charlesfan2 THIS MAN ISTH

ynfan1 girl wtf why didn’t you want to mee him ? @yourinstagram

↳ ynfan2 i bet it was a timing thing and not her actively not wanting to meet him 🥹

charlesfan3 is he shooting his shot ???? publicly

charlesfan4 NOT CHARLES BEGGING FOR A CHANCE

ynfan3 this would be such a powerful ship… ferrari’s golden boy and the pop princess.. do you see the vision…

↳ charlesfan1 I SO DO

INSTAGRAM DMS

liked by charles_leclerc, jacobelordi and 6,398,002 others

yourinstagram last night of the spinnin tour in the us 🥹🥹 you can tell by my fave here that i’m going to miss these crowds every single day. THANK YOU for coming to the shows, singing every lyric and making friendship bracelets, all the memories we made together will stay with me forever 💘 LATIN AMERICA YOU’RE NEXT 🇲🇽🇦🇷🇧🇷

view all 69,026 comments

ynfan1 IM SOBBINGGGGGG

ynfan2 IM SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT SHOWS

arianagrande easily the best show anyone has ever put on, love you sister 🤎

theweeknd The GOAT 🐐

ynfan3 she finished her stadium tour after getting out of a 6 year long relation and being completely heartbroken. she loves her art more than anything

↳ ynfan1 she can do it with a broken heart because she’s THAT good

charles_leclerc Congratulations, excited for what’s coming next 🙌🏻

↳ charlesfan1 CHARLIE ???

↳ charlesfan2 WHATS GOING ON 😭

ynfan4 harry styles you have nothing on her

liked by ynfan1, charlesfan1 and 10,296 others

ynupdates YN AND CHARLES LECLERC OUT AND ABOUT TONIGHT !!!

view all 1,028 comments

ynfan1 HUHHHH???

ynfan2 GOOD GOD

charlesfan1 IS THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENING

ynfan3 wow and some people clowned him when he said he wanted to give yn a bracelet with his number

harryfan1 she’s dating someone already ??? wow

↳ ynfan1 she has all the right do it especially after realizing that she wasted 6 years of her life with someone who never made any sacrifice for her

↳ charlesfan1 ntm that charles has done more in what a week??? (commenting on her posts, holding hands in public, not making her run from the paps) than harry did in 6 years

↳ harryfan2 i will always mourn ynrry

ynfan3 IM SOOO HERE FOR YNS WAG ERA

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 9,302,933 others

yourinstagram my first race 🏁 i had the best time with the best people🤍

view all 99,027 comments

ynfan1 OMFGGGGG

charlesfan1 the jacket ????? the bracelet ????? the last pic ????? INSANIYY

dualipa ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

ynfan2 THIS IS SO SERIOUS ALSJAKA

harryfan1 she never posted harry in their 6 years together but she posts dumps about her rebound 😭

↳ ynfan1 as if harry wasn’t an ass who never wanted their relationship to be publicly acknowledged, bffr

ynfan2 IM SO HAPPY FOR HER

charlesfan2 i lowkey love this, charles is proof that persistence is key

charles_leclerc ❤️❤️❤️❤️

↳ charlesfan1 AHHHHHH

↳ charlesfan3 I CANT DO THIS

ynfan3 idk if they’re dating but it’s so good to see her proudly attending events and posting about them and not hiding to please the person she’s with

leclerc_pascale Belle 🤍

↳ charlesfan1 MAAAANNNN ITS SERIOUS

lilyhme queenie ⭐️

↳ ynfan1 told ya she was going to befriend all the wags 😭

liked by scuderiaferrari, yourinstagram and 2,038,766 others

charles_leclerc Perfect race ❤️

view all 44,827 comments

charlesfan1 LOML

ynfan1 perfect bc yn was there so true

arthur_leclerc 🙌🏻

charlesfan2 checo in the back is killing me

ynfan2 HARD LAUNCH YN ON INSTA NOW !!!

leclerc_pascale ❤️

harryfan1 you’ll never be harry

charlesfan3 i need yn on every race now

yourinstagram 😍😍😍❤️‍🔥

↳ ynfan1 HEEEEELP

↳ ynfan2 CONTROL YOURSELF

liked by charlesfan1, ynfan1 and 9,643 others

charlesupdates Charles and YN in Argentina today !! YN has a show there tomorrow, we love a supportive boyfriend 🥺

view all 997 comments

charlesfan1 OMFGGGG

charlesfan2 WE STAN THIS

ynfan1 maannn this is what she deserves, someone who's willing to travel across the globe to support her

↳ ynfan2 i can't believe harry just went to ONE show of the positions tour and we used to think that was the most romantic thing ever

charlesfan3 I KNEWWWW he would be at every show once her tour started again

ynfan3 I CANT WAIT FOR ALL THE CONTENT

charlesfan4 we need a charles cam at the spinnin tour crowd

liked by ynfan1, charlesfan1 and 14,382 others

ynupdates YN JUST CHANGED THE KARMA BRIDGE TO "KARMA IS THE GUY ON THE PITS COMING STRAIGHT HOME TO ME"

view all 1,005 comments

ynfan1 WTFFFF

ynfan2 SHES INSANE 😭

charlesfan1 LORD PLEASE HELP ME

ynfan3 she's so silly. she's also deranged

charlesfan2 what a time to be alive

charlesfan3 MAN I CANT STOP WATCHING THE VIDEO OF CHARLES REACTION

ynfan4 FRUIT BOY YOURE SO OVERRRRR

liked by carlossainz55, yourinstagram and 4,973,229 others

charles_leclerc The Spinnin Tour🤍

view all 66,044 comments

charlesfan1 GOING INSANE

ynfan1 OMG BABYYYYY

leclerc_pascale 💕❤️

ynfan2 FINALLY SOMEONE WHO POSTS ABOUT HER !! AND ATTENDS HER SHOWS !! AND IS SUPPORTIVE !!

charlesfan2 this boy is down BAD

carlossainz55 🙌🏻

ynfan3 i cant believe some people still want her old relationship when we have THIS

charlesfan3 charlie's popstar boyfriend era

yourinstagram thank you for being here 🥺

↳ ynfan1 SHE DESERVES THIS AND MORE

liked by charlesfan1, ynfan1 and 29,265 others

thepopbuzz YN and Charles Leclerc spotted on a yatch in the Bahamas, the couple seems to be enjoying their days off before they have to go back to touring and racing respectively. Tap the link in our bio for more details 👌

view all 6,022 comments

charlesfan1 AHHHHHHHHH

ynfan1 i love one fairytale couple

harryfan1 trying to rewrite history i see

ynfan2 WE STAN

charlesfan2 that should be me

ynfan3 finally a boyfriend who likes pda

charlesfan3 I LOVE THEM SO BAD

liked by yourinstagram, arthur_leclerc and 4,027,119 others

charles_leclerc I wanted to take pictures of my girl but she beat me to it

A much needed break

view all 58,266 comments

charlesfan1 STOP THIS

ynfan1 IM SPIRALING

carlossainz55 Enjoy mates 🙌🏻

lilyhme cuties 💓

charlesfan2 THE BOYFRIEND CONTENT I SIGNED UP FOR

ynfan2 HIS 🥹 GIRL 🥹

yourinstagram lover booooy ❤️

↳ ynfan3 AHHHH MY HEART

charlesfan3 we love simp charlieeee

ynfan4 i can’t stress how happy this makes me. from running to get in a van to this

liked by arianagrande, charles_leclerc and 10,278,683 others

yourinstagram SURPRISE !! my new album THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT is coming soon 🤍

ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE AND POETRY

view all 102,826 comments

ynfan1 KAHAIAJAYAABAJAI

ynfan2 WHAT ON EARTH

oliviarodrigo NO WAY ‼️‼️‼️

conangray thank you mother for constantly serving

ynfan3 THE COVER ??? THE NAME ?? THAT LYRIC ??? we’re not ready

charlesfan1 oooohhhh this is exciting

ynfan4 and fruit boy better HIDE

dualipa 🖤🖤🖤🖤

postmalone 🙌🏻

charles_leclerc So proud of you ❤️

↳ charlesfan2 AWEEEEEEES

↳ charlesfan3 i know they just started dating but i hope we get songs about him

781 notes · View notes

nouearth · 8 months

Text

blue current.

clark kent x male reader headcanons.

warnings: fluff, co-workers at the daily planet, maws!clark, soft!clark, intern!reader.

a/n: it's been a hot minute since i've written anything! i feel so bad because i've been swamped with school, so hopefully this will hold you guys over until i post my next fic! it's not much, but i've been feeling fluffy as of recent, and clark is the perfect candidate, HAHA. idk, i've been feeing low-key creatively stuck for writing, so hopefully this well get me out of the slump!

gif credits to: fukutomichi!

—clark was smitten from the moment he first laid eyes on you.

—it had only been the fourth month into his internship, but it was no secret that the higher-ups, and even his colleagues, have been impressed by clark's rapid growth.

—it was enough to ensure their trust in clark to train the new intern as the lead journalist had taken a month off for vacation. while he had his doubts if he would do a good job, clark always loved challenging himself.

—his mother had always reminded him: one who feared failure will never achieve greatness.

—sure, you weren't being mentored by the best journalist in the city. though, you had to admit that you felt defeated since miss lane was the only reason why you chose the daily planet over other internships.

—but bitterness turned to throat-drying, cheek-flushing, and hand-flexing sweetness when you came in your first day and met the man who would be training you.

—for clark, it was the drowsiness in your gaze that suddenly brightened when he met your eyes. if he could have seen his own face, clark would reckon that his eyes lit up the same way yours did upon meeting you for the first time.

—he's so... handsome. maybe training him wouldn't be so bad after all...

—his blue eyes sucked you in like heavy ocean current, but instead of fighting back the pull like any sane person would, you allowed him to drown you in the gorgeous wash his gaze doted on you with.

—god, are you toying with me right now? have you finally come around to my reckless behavior back in high school? i knew you always would!

—it began with a handshake. when clark's large hand cupped into yours, a current of sparks flickered from the bone of your knuckles to his own, and you both released with a gasp.

—"sorry! it must be my vest or something—has a lot of... cotton, i think—" clark assured with a laugh, but cursed his lame excuse in between breaths.

—"no, you're fine! i guess your sweater vest knew i was half-asleep, huh?" you laughed with him, and almost as if it was choreographed, you reached back to rub at your nape when he does, and the discomfort left the collective laughter in a fleeting dance.

—"well, lucky for you, our first stop is the break room! i'll show you how to make a poor man's mocha if you get sick of the coffee here!"

—from then on, you two had quickly become close friends.

—where clark would teach you more hacks to spice up an ordinary roast of coffee, you would return the favor by surprising him on random days with lunch that you prepared the night before.

—on nights where you were too tired to function, you simply settled for sandwiches and prepared an extra meal for clark.

—whether he claimed he forgot his lunch, or was too busy to even take a glance at his lunchbox; eating lunch had become a rarity for him.

—unless it was with you.

—even before opening the brown paper bag, clark knew it was going to be delicious.

—you always remembered what ingredients he liked and disliked since the first time you had lunch with him.

—clark smiled to himself as he ate the meal you didn't have to prepare for him in big bites.

—and then laughed when you watched in amazement and mirrored him like a parrot with messy bites.

—somehow, the thought of cared for was more filling than the actual meal.

—in moments where clark suddenly felt guilt for liking you as more than a friend, he sat silently, staring blankly ahead, with the tissue crumpled in his hands.

—and you sat beside him on the bench, compelled by his silence, while the birds watched from their home of oak and birch.

—it had been happening more frequently: clark's sudden mood shift. no matter how much he tried to deny it, how much he attempted to pacify your silent worries with his handsome smile, it was clear that something was bothering him.

—at first, you tried to break him with a joke.

—"geez, was my sandwich that bad?! i guess i shouldn't have used that expired mustard..."

—you've studied clark enough to anticipate a half-hearted chuckle from him; weak, but still had the intention to please. to masquerade his thoughts.

—instead, the birds chirped in his absence, and your frown only deepened as clark maintained a fixed gaze to the pavement.

—"clark?" you nudged him once on the arm, and he immediately dropped his head in between his legs with a heavy sigh.

—"what's wrong?"

—"there'ssomethingigottatellyou..." he muttered into the crook of his elbow, and your brows knitted together in worry, despite your amusement at the fact that he was behaving similarly to a puppy throwing a tantrum.

—"huh? didn't quite catch that when your mouth is full of linen." you gently nudged him once more to vacant the space between his legs, then another with a gentler squeeze to his arm when he doesn't.

—"clark, come on. talk to me." you squeezed harder to the sound of his groans. "people are staring—"

—then another squeeze.

—"there's something..."

—and another.

—"i gotta tell you..."

—and before you could alert him once more, clark returned the pressure into your own palm when he suddenly took your hand into his, and held it as if it was a pirate's lost treasure.

—the warmth of your skin compelled him to sit back up, but he refused to look at you. instead, he gazed every perimeter that didn't involve your eyes.

—the birds again, the sky, the trees, anything to drown out the sight of potential rejection.

—but how you wished he would turn to you right now, because you smiled. wide enough to sting the apple of your cheeks, and as much as you wanted to yell out his name for him to do so, you wanted to let clark do it for himself.

—to take upon the challenge of potentially meeting failure or success.

—heat crept onto his cheeks as he stared at a couple who were charmed by chubby ducks floating on the nearby lake. for a brief moment, he could see you two walking hand-in-hand, while the other free hand threw feed at the eager ducks.

—he was lost in his imagination. a blink turned into a dream, and a dream turned into a desperate paradise.

—it wasn't until the trail of your hand that looped your fingers into his, tightly sharing the warmth of anxiousness with a sticky clamp, that clark opened his eyes again and finally turned to you.

—wet eyes and shaking blues, they told a story that you didn't need to read into.

—silence filled the space between the two of you, then groaned in annoyance when you scooted closer until your knee was pressed to clark's. you folded his hand into yours, still clutching onto him tightly, and laid the joined affection on your lap.

—"i like you too, smallville." your thumb ran several laps over his knuckles to calm the tremors clark had possessed.

—he watched, open-mouthed as if he was about to respond, but the shock trapped the remainder of his words within his throat.

—you lounged back and squinted at the radiance of the sun, the brights of the sky.

—"(m/n)..."

—the sunlight faded into the background as the beauty of your best friend came into frame once again. he absorbed all the color and light of the world until your focus was on him.

—"i really like you."

—the sigh on his lips told a different tale compared to the previous exhales. it curled his lips upwards and finally pacified the shakes that had been bothering clark for months.

—when he pressed his palm back into yours, folding his fingers over your own, you braced for impact as you felt the electrical current from the first day you met him return in stronger pulses. it nipped at your skin, then at clark's, in its desperate escape.

—but clark held tighter, as did you, until the shockwaves melted in his skin, into his veins, then into his blood, and became one with the victorious cheer of his heart.

2K notes · View notes

atpsnty · 1 year

Text

┊𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮

xavier thorpe ; wednesday

pairing: jealous!xavier thorpe x bestfriend!fem!reader

warnings: light hearted, extremely cheesy & overplayed crush confession, miscommunication trope at it’s finest (let’s be honest, xavier is somehow great at both communicating and not talking at all), light swearing

request: n/a

summary: after telling him that you were asked to the dance at your school in jericho, xavier gets all butthurt.

a/n: I think this takes place after the whole monster situation, but he doesn’t like wednesday. also, don’t ask how wednesday, xavier, and y/n interact/are connected in all of this, idk either...

character credit: wednesday series

w/c: 1.2k

“I don’t even understand why you're being all grumpy right now,” you sigh as you trail behind your bestfriend.

You’re just leaving the Weathervane café and following Xavier towards the woods, meaning you’re probably heading to his little art shack. Everything was going as it usually does – you guys laughing and catching up over your separate drinks – when he suddenly got really quiet and wanted to leave.

“Can you at least tell me what’s wrong?”

He doesn’t even acknowledge your presence anymore, seeming to be in his own head right now.

You glance at his back, his usually tall stature now hunched in on itself. He keeps running his hand through his hair as it falls in his face, which is when you notice that he’s missing the black hair tie that usually sits on his wrist.

Putting a little pep in your step to get beside him, you hold out your own wrist. Upon it lays a hair tie; the same black type that he usually keeps for himself. You started carrying them after noticing how often he sets them down beside him, only to forget doing so and abandoning them altogether.

He halts his movements before glancing at the band adorning your wrist. He stares at it for a few seconds before his gaze trails up at your face, where he stares at you for a few more.

You guys are always comfortable around each other, you’ve been friends for a while now, so eye contact is not something you struggle with…but there was something different about the way he is currently looking at you. Like he’s analyzing you. Studying you. Looking past what lays upon your expression and trying to survey your thoughts.

You try to hold his stare, but after a bit your face starts to heat up and the moment feels way too intense, so you divert your gaze to your shoes, the tips almost touching the tips of his own.

You hear the soft sigh fall from his lips before you see his retreating steps. After a few seconds, you fall back in line, trailing behind him once again.

–

After a few more silent minutes, you reach his art studio. He opens the door for you, though still not looking at you directly, before walking in himself. He immediately finds his closest pencil and sketchbook, making little to no sounds as he sits at his desk and begins scribbling away.

You sit on the stool that accompanies a large painting canvas and watch as he frustratingly works the pencil into the paper, smudging lead with his fingers in an unrecognizable design.

After a while, the silence is almost too much to bear.

“Seriously Xavier, what is wrong with you?”

“Everything apparently,” he said abruptly while slamming down his pencil on the multi-color covered table top, “enough to not even be an option anymore.”

You squint at him, completely distraught by his sudden outburst.

“What the actual fuck are you talking about?”

Completely lost about where this attitude even came from, you run back the conversation you were having back at Weathervane: your wellbeing, school, an upcoming dance, the guy who asked you to said upcoming dance…

Bingo.

“Are you mad about me getting asked to a school dance?” You questioned, a hint of accusation to your voice.

“Yes, okay! I’m mad you got asked to your little dance at normie school!” Xavier exclaimed, standing up and looking down at you.

It takes all but two seconds before you're standing as well, mixed emotions of confusion and anger boiling inside you.

“Why would you be fucking upset! If anything you should be happy that your best friend is actually liked by someone for once.” You said in an exasperated tone. Why would your closest friend be upset about you finally getting attention from someone…unless he thinks you don’t deserve it.

“Well I’m not fucking happy.” He says while looking you straight in the eyes before sitting back in his chair, placing his elbows on the table and his head in his hands.

“Why not?” At this point, anything he said would probably end with you in tears, your heart broken, or both.

“Because I wanted to take you,” he says in a soft voice before running both hands through his hair and turning to face you. “Because I want to take you,” he reiterates.

You gape at him, eyes and lips slightly widened as you find the words to say.

To be honest, you have had feelings for Xavier for a while. When you first saw him, you thought he was an attractive guy. His long hair compliments his face so well, who wouldn’t? But it wasn’t until you started connecting that your feelings for him truly blossomed. You loved his artsy side, he was always surprising you with drawings and paintings he made of you, alongside ones he made simply to impress you with his “bring drawings to life” ability. He was always there to cheer you up if something was upsetting you at school, and he would constantly call or text you to see how you’re doing.

After all that gaping, the only thing you could think to say was “why would you want to do that?”

He gave a small chuckle-ish sigh before replying, “have I not been obvious, because I swear everyone else could see how much I like you except you.”

Thinking back at it now, yeah the man was super obvious, but that doesn’t mean you actually believe it..

“Seriously, Y/N. I know I’m being super obvious in my flirting tactics, but that’s just because I think you like me back. I mean obviously not if you’re going to a dance with someone else, but I-”

“Who said I’m going with somebody else?” You cut him off mid rant.

“The guy-.”

“If you would’ve actually let me finish my story instead of getting all jealous and gloomy, you would have heard me say that I didn’t even say yes.” You look at him with a slight smirk. “Matter of fact, I don’t think I even like anyone fro-”

“I knew it.”

“From my school. Xavier you seriously need to let a girl finish her storytimes,” you shake your head and softly laugh before looking back up at him.

The smile you’ve come to adore is finally resting upon his face once again.

“So…you want to take me to the dance,” you tease.

“I do,” he says as if it’s a simple fact.

“Are you gonna ask or…? Because I’ve got other options to weigh if this is gonna take all da-.”

He rushes towards you and envelopes you in a hug, though this one feels different than the ones you usually share.

“Would you allow me the great honor of taking you to your normie school dance?” He finishes as he sets you back upright and grazes his thumb over your cheek.

“I would love to go,” you smile up at him, leaning into his touch slightly.

“With me though, right? The other dudes are completely out of the picture?”

“Only with you,” you giggle at his playful antics. “Just you.”

Completely ignoring the story, I am currently obsessed with Xavier Thorpe and my close friends list on Instagram has been suffering with edits for days.

I no longer support Percy Hynes White and will no longer take request for Xavier Thorpe.

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday #wednesday addams #xavier thorpe x you #y/n #fem!reader #wednesday show #ff #imagine #oneshot #escapism #x reader #atpsnty

8K notes · View notes

bonny-kookoo · 7 months

Text

Jungkook

(Oh My) Bunny-Baby 🔞

In which Jungkook had long lost hope to find someone sweet as you.

Tags/Warnings: Bunny Hybrid!Jungkook, Bunny Hybrid!Reader, strangers to lovers, major fluff, romance, Flirting, they're in love, also very horny towards the end oops, car sex, sloppy handjob, lots of... fluids, squirting aka champagne confetti wink wink, multiple orgasms, some aftercare?, idk it's something

Length: oneshot, I'll count later

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> You can request drabbles if you want.

•━━━━━♡━━━━•.🐇.•━━━━━♡━━━━━━•

"Come on in- just, be a little quiet, I've got my new coworker over." Jimin chuckles, making Jungkook look at him scandalized- since Jimin, technically, has a girlfriend.

"Ah no, not like that." He waves off, walking in after they both taken off their shoes. "A waterpipe broke in her bedroom, so now she's crashing on my couch for the time being." He explains, putting a finger to his lips as they enter the living room area, where Jungkook spots your body underneath a blanket, clearly asleep.

What peaks his attention though, are the very obvious bunny ears on your head, only partially covered by your hair.

Bunny hybrids aren't common at all, nowadays, due to them ending up mixing with humans more often than not- so much so, that until now, Jungkook has never met another 'pure' bunny hybrid of the opposite sex before, ever. "Just sit down there- she sleeps like a rock, so don't worry too much about waking her." Jimin laughs, easily sitting down in a seat across from where you sleep, while Jungkook carefully takes the spot next to where your head is resting. From here, he's got an even better view of you- and you're just.. so cute.

Though he feels himself short-circuiting the moment you move, nose scrunching up a bit as you move your leg, blanket now slipping a little to reveal the softest looking bunny tail he's ever seen. That, combined with your ear twitching while you dream, makes him wonder about things he never really thought of before. He absentmindedly reaches to touch his own ear, trying to see if they're just as soft as yours look. Are they? He's not sure. He's so close to you he could just see for himself, especially when you move a little more, head leaning against his thigh, ears laying over it- but he knows how much he hates having his ears touched constantly, so he doesn't.

That would just be rude.

"Do you know a cheap place where she can stay? Sine my partner is a wolf hybrid, you know.." Jimin wonders, sighing. "Here, that's the sketches by the way." He offers, giving a few papers to Jungkook who takes them. "Oh! Or, since you're both the same species, maybe she could stay with you? You still have the pull-out couch right?"

"Yeah!" Jungkook answers, while you seem to finally wake up, slowly sitting upright, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

"Great!" Jimin misunderstands the rabbit boy's answer. "Hey, bunny? Jungkookie over here has an empty couch you can stay on." He tells you, who's ears slowly stand up, before you look over at the shoulder of the other bunny hybrid- head slowly lifting to look at the wide open eyes of the buck next to you. "He's easy to be around, don't worry." Jimin jokes.

"Oh?" You wonder, noticing Jungkook's black ears turned towards you as well, giving you all information you need for the moment. "Tha's nice of you." You slur sleepily, yawning before you stretch. "Thank you." You smile, and Jungkook is officially without any brain activity at all for the moment.

Especially when you lean your head to the side a bit, ears flopping over, still clearly drowsy from sleep.

"Uh.. yeah!" Jungkook snaps out of it, ripping his eyes away from you, though he hears you giggle a little to yourself, causing his tail to wiggle without his control of it. He honestly didn't mean to agree to something like this- hell, his apartment isn't even remotely tidied up, there's probably dishes in the sink and his laundry all over the place- but in some odd way, he also can't pass up the opportunity of a lifetime, basically; because you're so pretty, and-

wait, he doesn't even know if you have a boyfriend. Do you? And if you do, why is he not helping you out in a time like this? He knows he would've offered you to stay at his home right away if something was up. That's just common sense.

"I'll go get my stuff.." You mumble, slowly getting up to stretch one last time- bunny tail wiggling around as you groan, giving Jungkook pretty much whiplash from the sight alone, before you walk away into the bathroom, probably to shower and wake up properly.

"She's cute, huh?" Jimin teases, catching Jungkook staring after you. "Doesn't have a boyfriend from what I know. And she's a bunny too." He wiggles his eyebrows, while Jungkook shakes his head.

"So?" He huffs. "Doesn't mean we're like.. destined or something. I'm just gonna help her out- and after that, we'll go back to being strangers anyways." He simply says, shrugging it off. After all, he's tried relationships before- and they all somehow always failed because of him in some way, making him believe that at this point, he just isn't fit for simple relationships.

He can't help his instincts, and neither can he help his.. needs either.

So when he takes the sketches home to work on, and helps carry your bag for you- he doesn't get his hopes up for something changing, because down the line, maybe that'll protect him from the inevitable heartbreak when you leave just like he fears you will.

Just like everyone else did before.

•━━━━━♡━━━━•.🐇.•━━━━━♡━━━━━━•

Inside his apartment, you're clearly finally properly awake now, curiously following him as he shows you around, before he leaves you in his small living room to fetch some sheets and blankets for you to put on the couch.

It's clear that he lives alone, apartment a bit.. lifeless almost, not much screaming home at you from what you can see. Apart from a sweater thrown over a chair at the open kitchenette, and a few dishes in the sink, it looks like any ordinary single-guy household.

Interesting. Especially the fact that his home only smells of himself and no one else. Doesn't he have a partner?

That wouldn't make sense. He's basically the perfect buck.

"It's a bit.. uh, I know this will look like it's broken but it's not-" He defends, rubbing the back of his neck after he put the blankets and sheets on one side of the couch, leaning down to pull on the lower edge of the front of the couch. "-it's just.. urgh- old!" He grits, using a good amount of strength to pull out the part that snaps back up into place, ultimately turning the small couch into a bed with good amount of space on it.

You can't help but stare wide eyed however, not at the furniture- but rather the clear display of strength of his, arms showing off their muscles even while covered mostly by his plain white t-shirt. You can't help it- after all, it's instincts.

Snapping out of it when you notice him looking at you in question, you shake those thoughts off for the moment, hands behind your back while you sway on your legs a little. "Uh.. I didn't listen, sorry. What did you say?" You ask, caught a bit in your staring contest between you and his thighs having multiplied twice their size from the way he's sitting on his heels on the floor.

"I asked if you.. if that blanket is enough, or if you want a thicker one?" He offers. "I have a spare one with feather filling if you'd like.." He wonders, and you nod instantly.

You like thick blankets and bedding a lot- it makes for great nesting material, and gives you a sense of comfort while asleep.

He smiles in a friendly manner, before he fetches said blanket, taking a bit longer to put a cover over it, before he brings it to the couch you're already on all fours on, tucking the sheets into the corners properly, and he can't help but watch you a little. He himself doesn't really nest, and since he's never met a female bunny hybrid before, he's never actually seen one making a nest, except for in movies and TV shows. So, seeing you so naturally do it, makes him wonder.

How much of what he heard and seen about female bunny hybrids is actually true- and how much is just romanticized fiction?

After all, he as a male bunny hybrid is often watered down to nothing but a good lover in bed- but once those people get into an actual relationship, and realize that it's not just fun and games but a need of his that he'd have fulfilled every day of the week if possible, he quickly becomes too much to handle.

And so, most of the time, everything always falls apart because he's too needy. Too demanding. Too high maintenance. Too tough to.. satiate.

"Here." He carefully offers the bedding to you, and you smile, happily taking it with a 'thank you' from your side. He's a bit awkward now- unsure if you'd like him to stay or not. "Do you… should I leave?" He asks, unsure.

"No?" You answer, shaking your head. "This is your home after all. Why should you leave?" You giggle, unaware of Jungkook's inner troubles with the whole situation. He sits down on the edge of the bed so he stays out of the way, while you position some pillows and the other blanket how you want, eventually settling on the thick feather-filled quilt, hugging it it as you look at him arms and legs wrapped around the thick fluffy bedding.

"I.. uhm, I've never actually met a doe before, so I'm not sure how to really act." He admits, and you nod, lips parted in an 'o'-shape as you realize his dilemma.

"That's fine." You simply say. "We're kinda rare after all, I only ever really met another buck like.. a few years back? And he was an asshole, so you're already doing a lot better than him!" You joke, though he can spot some truth behind your words, worrying him what might've happened in the past. "So, Jiminie gave you sketches, right?" You ask, and he nods, happy over the finally flowing conversation. "What's that about?" You ask.

"I'm a tattoo artist." He says, pulling up the sleeve of his white shirt way over his shoulder, showing off his inked arm, making you lean closer to gain a better look, ears fully turned towards him now in interest. "I designed all of them myself, for example." He offers, chuckling when you tilt your head to look at something in a different angle.

"Oh, they're so cool!" You praise, before leaning back again. "I wanna have a tattoo too, but, I don't know.. people told me I shouldn't, cause it wouldn't suit me.." You mumble, leaning back into the comfort of the bedding.

"I mean, it depends what you'd want?" He shrugs. "I could for sure come up with something more delicate maybe?" He wonders, mind already trying to imagine some art underneath your skin right now.

"Heh, you wanna mark me up?" You flirt boldly, catching him off guard at your innuendo. "I'm just kidding. You're cute!" You compliment, before you curl up in your little nest once more. "...though.." you mumble, looking at him dangerously from underneath your lashes.

...though?" He asks, breathes out almost carefully.

"Though I wouldn't mind you cuddling me, to be honest." You giggle into the quilt, cheeks tinted softly. "You look like you give great cuddles." You say, and he laughs a bit bashfully to himself.

"I mean- maybe?" He shrugs, unsure. He's not really.. cuddled much before, every touch of his always having been taken as either an invitation or demand even when it wasn't either- so at some point in his life, he just stopped even thinking about it. What would make you different from them?

And what does he really have to lose, down the line?

You're Jimin's coworker. If you and Jungkook don't work out, there's no awkwardness really, to be fair. You'd just part ways, and that would be it, and since you're both clearly adults, nothing speaks against it.

"Shouldn't we.. maybe get to know each other more?" He wonders carefully, testing the waters. And your next words make him wonder if you could really truly be a new start for him.

"Why? It's only cuddling." You huff. "It's not like I wanna go to phase two just because you touch me." You joke.

And while he does smile at it, it's not a joke to him.

It's much more than that.

•━━━━━♡━━━━•.🐇.•━━━━━♡━━━━━━•

"Heeh, whatcha cooking?" You ask, dipping underneath his arm to catch a glimpse at the pot he's stirring, making him instinctively reach out to pull you back so you don't look inside and hurt yourself.

"Ramen- but it's spicy, so you might not like it." He chuckles, remembering how you told him last night at a movie you watched together that you don't tolerate spicy things very well. Most buny hybrids dont- but he grew up with it, so maybe that's why he can stomach it very well.

The movie you watched yesterday had only been background noise to be honest, because you were rather occupied getting to know each other better, just like Jungkook had suggested. He now knows that you moved here after a bad relationship break up lead to you wanting a new fresh start somewhere else, while you learned that Jungkook used to work at an internet Cafe for a while until he could finally land a spot at Min Yoongis tattoo studio.

You've warmed up to each other quite quickly- and not just over shared life experiences and problems you'd laugh over together.

"But I'm hungry." You tell him, looking upwards at his face that's watching you as well. "Can I use your kitchen to make myself something?" You wonder, and he smiles, laughing.

"I can cook one extra. I have a mild chicken one in here- would you like that?" He asks, and you nod, reaching for it- though he's holding it too far away. "I said I'm making it." He jokingly scolds. "You go wait, it'll take maybe twenty minutes or so." He explains, though you just turn around and...

Hug him?

"Heeh, you're so warm!" You giggle, unable to really resist at least trying to hug him once- when a hand sets itself onto your back, holding you close while he continues cooking. He just smells so nice, and he is so nice in general that you just involuntarily get attached already.

You're a bunny hybrid after all. You crave affection, need attention.. and much more than that, but this part, you've learned to control. It throws people off how clingy and needy you are, it's something you learned the hard way- and you're hoping that you won't screw it up with Jungkook.

Cause you really like him already. Might go as far as to say you've got a terrible crush.

"Am I bothering you?" You ask meekly but he shakes his head, a surprised expression on his face.

"No, I'd tell you if you did." He answers, and at that, your eyes sparkle in wonder, head resting against his chest. Words like that mean the world to you- because thar means you won't just unknowingly make him uncomfortable until he gets rid of you. He'll tell you first, so you can change.

"Thank you." You simply say-

And he wonders what you must've experienced in the past to be so grateful of simple communication like that.

•━━━━━♡━━━━•.🐇.•━━━━━♡━━━━━━•

"So, you're staying with Jungkook now?" Namjoon, a bear hybrid across from you asks- and you nod.

"Hmhm, he's really nice." You compliment, and Jungkook feels his cheeks start to get hotter at your praise. He's got a terrible problem and it's only four days in of you both knowing each other-

Because his body is clearly reacting to your scent being all over his apartment and all over him.

He can't help it, it's quite frankly embarrassing how often he has to shower and try and relieve himself somewhat quietly so you won't notice- ache in his body now worse than ever before, with you as a doe so close around him all the time. You're clearly in your prime, and so is he- bodies communicating that desire constantly without either of your control.

And unbeknownst to him, you're very aware of his dilemma. He's not exactly as quiet as he thinks he is.

In that department, you pride yourself in being a lot more secretive- he probably hasn't even noticed that you got yourself off right in your nest in the living room, because you, compared to him, can be quiet.

Well, but he knows. Because while you might not make much sound, your scent left on your bedding speaks louder than you could ever scream. And it's torture.

"So, you both?" Jimin raises his brows suggestively, making Jungkook shakes his head bashfully. "Heh, why not? You're already so cute together!" He whines, always so passionate about his best friend finally finding that special someone.

Namjoon sighs and scolds the younger friend, before he looks at you. "I'm sorry, he can be a bit too bold sometimes." He says, and you just wave it off.

"No its fine, I understand." You say, before going back to eating.

You're awfully quiet the rest of the night, seemingly rather low on energy. It's something Jungkook notices with slight worry, fearing you might be coming down with something- unaware that it's both your social batteries running low, and also the fact that, naturally, bunny hybrids tend to kind of shrink in on themselves if they're without affection for too long.

And for you, it's been a long time since someone cared for you in a more intimate way.

But he doesn't connect the dots yet, rather offers to go home with you a bit earlier, to get you into bed so you can rest properly.

•━━━━━♡━━━━•.🐇.•━━━━━♡━━━━━━•

You're surprisingly visiting often and regularly, even after returning to your now renovated home.

You seek him out actively, ask often for his opinion on things or if he wants to hang out- and he's thriving, energy at an all time high. It's something that everyone at the tattoo shop notices too, constantly picking on the rabbit hybrid- but he couldn't care less.

Because last night, you told him you liked him. Like, liked him a lot. You got a crush on him.

And it makes him all giddy with excitement, causes him to whistle as he cleans up his workspace to finally go home and welcome you back to his apartment for some takeout and cuddles- because that's something that you do often as well.

It's like the only quality sleep he has these days is only when he sleeps together with you. And not even in a sexual sense whatsoever.

You gently turn him whenever he falls into a bad position during his sleep that makes him snore- instead of telling him that he's annoying and disrupting your rest. You cling onto him, you're nuzzling into his neck, you scent him- and he loves every second of it, soaks up your affectionate attention like a sponge.

You're just so cute, and perfect for him- he can't help but fall for you. And knowing that you did too- just makes it all feel like a fairytale come true.

Though, in his car, things don't go quite as.. tame as he expected it to.

Not that he complains.

You're on his lap in the driver's seat as he'd parked his car at an empty parking lot out of sight of the main road, clinging to him, kissing him just as eagerly as he does you. It's desperate, open mouths stealing each other's breath away, his teasing bites to your lip making you whimper. "Please-" you softly cry, looking at him with pleading eyes. "-I'm starving.!" You complain, and he laughs.

The moment you're both in the backseat of his car, he wastes no time- using the sweater and shirt he pulls off his upper body in one go to throw them against the door so your head is supported, before he leans down to kiss you again. He can't get enough, not of you, and not of this moment-

Because down the line, he's equally as touch-starved as you are.

There's no time nor need for words as his hands push beneath your clothes, exploring what he finds beneath with eager palms, skin warm to the touch. You're squirming in place, needy for more than he gives right now- and he decides that patience can go fuck itself, because he needs you.

The moment he unveils your lower body to his eyes is the moment he just knows he can't control himself, hand instantly reaching between your legs to play with you, get you ready. "How have you been like this, huh?" He chuckles, jokes, as you squirm and roll your hips into his hand. "Poor baby, suffering in silence when I'm right here." He breathes out, sensitive core so desperate you don't need much to come undone for the first time.

While you catch your breath, he uses that time to search for a condom in his car- finding one in his wallet, thankfully, before he covers his length that you're already reaching for.

"Next time." He reassures your disappointed face as you realize he's not gonna let you return the favor. "Right now I need you." He instead explains, before he guides the head of his cock through your folds, collecting your wetness before he finally pushes inside.

Your head is finally empty, no thoughts rushing any longer, the only thing on your mind the feeling of him filling you up.

You don't care if you're needy, or clingy, or too demanding- right now you want all he has to offer, as your legs wrap around him, pulling him closer.

And closer he gets, leaning down to capture your lips once more before his hips start to move.

The sounds you make must be nothing shy of pornographic, but you don't spare any mind to it- instead letting your eyes roll back as he picks up his pace, testing your limits to see what you need, and what you can take. And much to his personal pleasure, it seems like you're a perfect fit-

Not just in any other way already.

Your tail must be soaked in your slick at this point, ring of foamy white decorating the base of his length as he keeps up his rhythm, skin smacking against skin loudly in the small space of the car. Any bystander outside probably knows exactly what's going on-

And he couldn't care less.

An almost growling sound escapes him when he feels you clench in your upcoming orgasm, thighs trembling against his body as you cry out, white hot pleasure making you blind and deaf for a second, while his hips stutter, one final push all it takes for him to snap-

As he pulls out your soaked cunt, pulling the condom off to instead close your legs and bring himself to his finish that way, white strings of cum covering your naked front, even up to your shirt that he's pushed way up high to reveal your bouncing chest to his eyes.

He's breathing heavily together with you, as he notices the scene he finds himself in.

The windows of the car are all fogged up, and it's stuffy inside, smell of sex filling the entirety of the space, leather of the seats squeaking slightly as he adjusts his position. Your most recent experience of pleasure covers his thighs and seats, but he doesn't mind, he can only laugh to himself absolutely starstruck.

He's never experience something like this before.

He's never had any sexual encounter where he felt this satisfied after, no lingering appetite left for the moment, as he helps you out of your shirt to use it to wipe your body somewhat clean- his cum having stained the fabric already anyways.

The second he notices you shivering he helps you into a sitting position after cleaning you between your legs too- or at least drying your skin, before he wipes the seats. "I uh.." you mumble, staring at the mess you've made. "...that's new." You say, and he laughs, looking at you with eyes full of stars.

"I know." He answers, making you beam back with an equally love-filled gaze, shy laughter breaking the awkward aftermath of your first time.

And that's when he knew-

You're it for him.

For now and forever.

•━━━━━♡━━━━•.🐇.•━━━━━♡━━━━━━•

"Jungkoooook~?" You sing, hanging somewhat upside down off his bed- when he walks into the bedroom, freshly showered.

"Whaaaaat~?" He parrots back in a similar tone, walking to the closet to get a shirt and pants.

"Do you love me?" You wonder, and he laughs, slipping the shirt over his head.

"Of course." He instantly answers without thinking.

"Do you really love me?" You ask, and he turns around now, looking at you with suspicion.

"...You're gonna ask me to drive you to that one specific place where they sell those giant milkshakes again, aren't you?" He accuses, and you giggle.

"I mean, do you reeeaaally love me?" You jokingly ask, and at that he squats down in front of you to kiss your upside-down lips with a smile.

"Of course I do." He answers. "So much so that I'll drive you there, even though you're gonna have a stomachache from all the food again."

"That was once!" You call out as he puts on his sweatpants having now sat up. "Or maybe twice.. okay if we count last Tuesday maybe three times but that-"

"Doesn't count, I know." He finishes his sentence for you, closing the closet before he leans his hands on the bed, lips catching yours to shut you up for a second.

But as he leans back to look at you, there's a new desire in your eyes.

"You know.. now that I think of it.." you mumble quietly, hands toying with the strings of his sweats. "I'm hungry for something else.." you bat your lashes at him, and he smirks at that, leaning his head to the side while he watches your lips.

"I wonder what that might be." He grins, licking his lips as you lean onto your back, his body now crawling over you.

"Guess you better find out." You tell him, hands already pulling down the hem of his pants slowly.

"Guess I have to." He shrugs, letting you undress him, trip to the far away diner long forgotten.

Because who needs to eat out when you've got the best dinner at home?

•━━━━━♡━━━━•.🐇.•━━━━━♡━━━━━━•

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook imagine

2K notes · View notes

yxami · 7 months

Text

procrastinating my history test even tho I’m doing it at home and can cheat but I refuse to, the fact that he’s a yandere tutor probably has to do with that, anyways idk how I did this shit in one sitting,

desc: dom yandere tutor x sub gn reader, tutoring you, nsfw, library, some exhibitionism ig, idk kill me now

Tap. Tap. Tap. You looked up to Wynn bouncing his finger against your paper, clearly blank. He wanted you to take notes but your mind has been too distracted with other things to even process that you were getting tutored by him.

Right. You’re getting tutored by him because of your low grade in math. You excelled in every other subject yet when it came to numbers you were like a crow with a glass puzzle. It looks easy just from observing it but once you attempted it, it was much harder.

“Listen sweetheart, I need you to pay attention because I’m not going to sit here for another hour to look at your confused face. Start listening or else I’m leaving in 5” He used his hand to lift your chin up, emphasizing his height even if he was sat.

“Got it?”

You nodded.

“Alright, Let’s try this again” He inhaled with a long exhale, cracking his fingers before drilling some more methods in your brain until you had to understand.

You weren’t really sure why he decided to help though, he was busier than you were and might’ve cancelled a plan or two. Just to help you study? It was a little odd coming from the guy who seemed to hate your guts on some days while the others he could only tolerate you.

Wynn looks at your expression that can only be described as ‘I stopped listening a few minutes ago’, tempting him to walk out and teach you a lesson, whether that be one where you understand math or comprehend that you can’t waste his time.

He chooses the second.

“Alright, cmon” He grabs your hand, leading you somewhere without any other words, even when you ask the same questions like a confused parrot with no other things to say. “Where are we going? Wynn, where?”

“If you can’t listen with my words then I’ll make you listen with my touch” He closes the door behind him, efficiently locking it as he scoops you up and placed you on the librarian’s desk. It was her office, an empty one, something you noticed after looking around.

“We can’t be in here Wynn, the Librarian’s gonna kick us out” You sat on the desk, not daring to hop off just yet, maybe you were a little curious at to what he was planning, even if you were still confused.

“Who cares? She’s probably on her lunch break” He unbuttons your shirt, likely just for the view of how you look without it, pulling you in by the loose collar for a kiss. Strawberry chapstick is what you taste when he continued to press his lips against yours. You could hear his small intakes for breath, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you further in.

“Wynn?” You say pushing him off, more out of breath than you expected which was embarrassing since he looked ready for another deep kiss.

“Mhm..?” He says in a low voice, fiddling with the button of your pants while looking at you. His husky yet whiny tone had you believing he’s been waiting for this moment for along time now.

“I don’t know.. um..” You sort of ramble incoherent words of confusion, you weren’t sure why you called his name, you wanted to ask what this was about but with some fear to what the answer might be… you kept quiet, letting him explore your body with his veiny hands.

You liked him, even if he was a little snappy, he was sweet at times, so if you heard him saying this was just to release tension after studying for so long you might just cry right here. It was a little sad to hope that he was doing it with some sort of feelings.

If only you knew this man was obsessed with you.

You’d likely figure it out by how he bent you over the wooden desk and hesitated to take you here. Yes, he’d prefer if you were in his bed confessing your infatuation and dedication to making him fall for you, but the growing hot situation of fucking you in such a risky place has him more excited.

“I’d be nicer with you but you haven’t been listening so” He pushed his finger inside your hole, after embarrassingly making you suck on his finger for a few moments while praising you. He manages to fit three fingers at a time, curling them inside, making you squirm against the desk, you’re forced to grasp at the end of it while trying to keep quiet.

“Keep quiet and I’ll be nicer, you can do that right baby?” He says in a low voice, massaging your ass before lining his tip at your entrance, you can feel yourself suctioning on nothing in a desperate need for him. You make a noise of agreement and he takes it as a sign that you’re ready.

As he pushed himself inside he can’t help but make a groan of pleasure. It was tight, warm too, and it was you. He might’ve been leaking pre during the study session just thinking about something like this.

He bottoms out inside you and pulls out right where his tip begins, slamming back into you with a surprised moan escaping your lips, you scramble to cover your mouth before he starts repeating the same hard hitting thrusts.

He’s on his 4th one before he starts noticing how you’re shivering already, even if he was yet to pick up the pace, he curls his arm around your stomach and pulls you up against him, making you arch against him at his will.

“Be good and suck on this okay?” He offers his fingers, this time to keep you quiet, you nod and wrap your lips around his left digits, the ones that weren’t inside of you.

He makes you stand as he pushes his cock in and out of you, you can feel your legs quiver as he fills you to the brim with his cock, you don’t know if there’s even space for a finger inside when he already has you feeling so full.

You gasp when he speeds up, leaving you with no warning as you whimper against his fingers, the sound of skin clashing has you even more focused on the situation. “How does it feel baby? Are you gonna start listening to me now?” He growls in your ear, pulling you closer to him as continues.

Wynn feels you tighten around him as he speaks, he knows you’re paying attention. Best believe he’s going to start using this as a way to make you listen.

You mewl at how embarrassing it was to be arching and bending just from his control, as if he wasn’t teaching you mathematics 10 minutes ago. You internally prayed that nobody was hearing all the sounds you were making while his cock crashed into your sensitive hole in a quicker pace than before.

You grabbed at anything in-front of you, which was the wooden desk the shook under his movement that pushed you against it. He leaned with you as you propped yourself against it once more.

“I can feel you tightening around me, you still haven’t gotten used to it? I guess I’ll have to teach you the shape of my cock too huh?” He whispers in your ear, nibbling on your earlobe as he teased you.

“I’ll fuck you dumb until you get it”

#yxami’s yam #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #male yandere #yandere imagines #pls request #yandere scenarios #gn reader #soft yandere #yandere tsundere #yandere nsft #yandere tutor #tutor yandere #yandere boy #yandere x reader #yandere x willing reader #yandere x darling #yandere dom

1K notes · View notes

arminsumi · 8 months

Text

growing up with gojo satoru.

NOTE: it's a trash draft abt growing up with gojo and he had a crush on u since ever or smth idk i think it's a potential backstory for a fic?? 👍🗑️

you and satoru have known each other since you were toddlers because the gojo family and your family are very close. he was born just two years after you.

growing up, he was the richest and snobbiest and snottiest. but he could be charming if he needed to be. formal when he needed to be. just not to you, his closest friend. his only friend growing up.

satoru greatly enjoyed picking on you. he annoyed you to death. chasing you down the halls while your parents had tea together. tripping you. ruffling your hair. stealing your sweets and putting them above his head once he had hit that big growth spurt and you could no longer reach them. "accidentally" spilling tea all over your new kimonos. bringing bugs to you just to freak you out.

but that was just all the annoying childhood memories that you dwelled on. if you asked your parents, you'd hear stories of how you and satoru were inseparable; jointed at the hip, the one never strayed too far from where the other was. where you went, he followed without missing a step and vice versa. often you'd be holding hands without realizing. you remember your grandparents laughing and teasing the two of you about that many times, and then you and satoru would throw each other disgusted looks and let go of each other's hands — only to resume that fingerlocking a few minutes later. it was subconscious for him to stick so close to you.

dwelling on the bad memories detracted you from remembering all the good memories.

the times satoru comfortingly slept at your side when you stayed the night during a thunderstorm at his house. all the times he stood up for you and faced off with that brat sukuna. how suguru would console and hug you while satoru threw fists with the other boy; always, always emerging victorious and bearing a triumphant, almost cocky smirk at you. albeit with blood dribbling out of his nose. you remember sukuna always picking on you, but not in the way satoru did; he had a malicious way about it, but satoru's teasing was playful and even cute. he was tasteful with his jokes, never falling victim to crudeness or vulgarity, never genuinely offending you.

and satoru's mother really liked to bring up that satoru had a "boyish crush" on you around the ages 10 - 14. she mentioned it at dinner all the time, when he was reaching the ages of 16 - 18 it really annoyed him.

"i did not have a crush on bugface." he would always deny it. ah, that ancient nickname, the one that still got on your nerves. and it came to be all because a bug landed on your cheek one day at the riverbank and you didn't notice until satoru pointed it out and burst with laughter.

satoru was gifted. you know, a child prodigy. he was the strongest. and growing up with him, he always used his gifts and strength to protect and care for you, whether it was physically or mentally. throwing fists with people who picked on you, acting like your bodyguard at times even if a boy simply wanted to ask you out on a date. studying with you until you aced your papers so that the both of you could go to the same high prestigious high schools.

albeit he was a bit enigmatic with how he showed his care. it was in the little things. helping you out the river when you fell in when you were twelve, confronting sukuna while you cried in suguru's arms about what he had said about your family, or picking blossoms out your hair.

that last one was something he continued to do through his whole life. whenever a blossom or leaf tangled into your hair, or got caught on your clothes, satoru would very gently pluck it off. he did it so smoothly that you never noticed he was doing it. though sometimes, you'd look at him suspiciously and ask why he was standing so close to you. he'd flick his brows up and hum "nothing."

#🗑️ — trash #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru

1K notes · View notes

luveline · 2 months

Note

yess i’m always up for roan fics!

roan struggling with math homework and eddie trying to help her and after a while he’s like….. 🤔😦 “go ask mom”. idk i think that’s rlly cute lol

“Dad.”

Eddie leans in toward the cutlery he’s washing, nose wrinkled, a look of loving disgust on his face as the music turns to a grizzly guitar and drum mashing that Roan winces at.

“Dad.” She pokes his leg. “Daddy, stop rocking.”

Eddie rinses the cutlery off and shoves it on the drying rack. He turns the faucet off, which helps. Water drips from his hand as he turns down the radio. “Sorry, bub. What’s up?”

“Can you help?”

“I can always help you. With what?”

“Homework.”

He sighs. “I knew this day would come.”

Eddie’s not stupid, he can do the same math a five year old can, but he just doesn’t understand the question. Jessica has apples and Leslie has pears and hiding his frown in Roan’s hair doesn’t work. “I can feel you being grumpy,” she says.

“Not grumpy, babe, just stupid.” He frowns again. “You’re gonna havta go ask mom, I think.” He squints at the question. “What does that even mean?”

Roan sighs and slinks of off the chair. She runs upstairs in a thunder of footsteps. Eddie can hear the door to the bedroom creaking, and Roan’s frustration. “Can you please come help me?”

“With what? I’m doing laundry.”

“I can’t do my math homework. Daddy can’t do it.”

“Oh, okay. Sure, princess, I’ll come and help. Pull me up?”

There’s some grunting and shouting. “I’m too small!” Roan says.

“Oh, fine.”

“Carry me?”

“No! Come on, I hurt my back yesterday, you’ll have to hold my hand.”

You and Roan walk down the stairs together, passing through the kitchen doorway hand in hand. He gives you a sorry smile.

“Couldn’t crack it, Munson?”

He can take all your teasing because it ends up like this, with the radio back on, the three of you huddled around a piece of printer paper with matching grimaces. You rub the skin between your eyes, Eddie laughs, and Roan looks back at you both, her grimace falling away.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“Can we give up?” she asks. “I wanna watch a movie.”

“We can do this,” you say. You erase the notes you’d been writing with the pencil topper with your tongue poking out from between your lips as you start again. You write something, scribble it out, write something else, your nose listing forward toward the paper.

“It’s okay, babe, we’ll just write a note for Mrs. Lundy that we didn’t get it,” Eddie says, reaching down to feel the fat and soft of your shoulder in his fingers. He loves that you care so much, but he’s done with apples and pears for the night.

“Maybe it’s a trick question?” Roan suggests.

Your shoulder relaxes in his hand. “You think so?” You can’t sound more in love with her, placing an arm around her tummy to lock her in.

“Yeah, like, there’s no right answer!” Roan says.

You wrap one of her curls around your finger and tug gently. “I think you’re right.”

Eddie knows what you’re thinking. He presses a kiss to the side of your forehead, and, while you and Roan are distracted, he puts his hand on top of the homework sheet and slides it as far away from you all as possible.

“What kind of popcorn do you want for your movie, macaroni?” Eddie asks.

“I don’t know,” she whines. “Ask mom.”

797 notes · View notes

oval3000 · 5 months

Text

Chapter 1

Yandere Teacher Nanami x Student Reader

Warning: Abuse, (force) smut. Abduction, violence, rough play, toxic behavior, age gap, everything from all above. Mainly from his point of view...somewhat... modern au- ish idk. College teacher x student.

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

-------------------------------------------------------

The bell ringing caused all the students to pack their bags and walk out of the classroom. The janitors, of the school, sweep the empty floors of the hallways. Teachers were gathering their paperwork, making copies, and saying goodbye to other fellow mentors.

Nanami picked up the black, felt, block and started to erase the chalk from the board. All the math equations of the new lectures become just white dust falling to the ground. He closed the math textbook, feeling his eyelids wanting to shut. Another day, another day lecture that half of his students will fail at.

He shoved all the homework sheets half of the class handed, into his black, leather, briefcase. He enjoyed his job. If he didn't he wouldn't continue to be here. He liked being a teacher. He liked math. He liked to teach those who wanted to learn. quote, "Those." He would love his job even more if all of his students would actually pay attention. He wouldn't be so tired if his students would come up and ask for help when they needed it. When he saw the grades of more than 50% of his students fail their latest test, he changed his teaching ways, however, the statistics never changed. They still failed to understand the mathematical procedures of each formula that would give them the correct answer. If only they pay attention and not stare at their phones all the time. If only they take it a little seriously then maybe they would actually walk out to get their diploma.

He offered to help them as much as he could as a teacher. He stayed after school for those who needed help to come in and ask, but no one came. He gave them all a little paper booklet with specific instructions for how to use each formula to each question, yet, he kept marking f's on their test. At least is not 100% of his students, or else he wouldn't even have a job.

He did notice a pattern of those who fail. The same ones that don't even show up for half of his classes. Those who show up high. Those who show up just to chat or use their phones the whole time.

He spends more time scolding them for not listening than to teach them all the things they need. Especially after he taught them how to deal with their taxes.

His one particular class that he always has issues with. He's a teacher, he shouldn't think badly about his students, but that one class he hates the most. His 10:00am class. When his students don't listen, they don't bother to take notes. They're too busy recovering from their hangover from the party they had last night. Nanami knows what goes on with a college student. He was once a college student. Granted that he was never a party animal, he mostly focused on his grades rather than getting hammered on a Thursday night. However, he saw and heard about the wild nights his classmates had. So, he's not shed out when it comes to his students who come in with their eyes red and their hands covering their heads, trying to control their headaches.

He would enjoy his job even more if the girls actually asked for help rather than pretend they wanted help just for them to flirt with him and show their bodies off.

He would instantly tell when they wanted to have sex with him. It's no secret that he's attractive and handsome. A lot of his students would flirt with him and that includes his co-workers. Girls would come up to him with a question by leaning in, seductively, close to him to show their cleavage and wiggle their asses to show more of their cunt. All Nanami could do is to roll his eyes and tell them to go back to their seats.

He found it lame and embarrassing how easily they would want to give in just to pass a simple math class or to just sleep with him. He knows his other male co-workers are the opposite of him. They would easily go at it and fuck their students if they seduce them like that. After all, he caught his fellow colleague fucking a student in his office. His colleague was afraid of Nanami telling so out of fear, he gave him his position, as the head of the math department. Nanami didn't care nor was he going to tell, but he enjoyed the little promotion. At least he's getting something out of it.

He was honestly disappointed that this was the outcome of his career. Teaching a bunch of students math that they swear they don't need. Dealing with dumb colleagues. Dealing with women who want to have sex with him. Dealing with endless useless grading was like a slap in the face to him.

That was until he received an email. An email saying that he's going to get a new student for his 10:00am class. He rolled his eyes and groaned in annoyance. Another student who won't bother trying to understand an equation.

He didn't have any high hopes or care. Especially in his 10:00am class that he hates.

He hates it.

He has to deal with another student.

Or so he thought.

When he heard your voice. your soft-spoken voice. He perked up and saw you. You stood there with your bag hanging on your shoulder and a piece of paper in your hand. "Are you Mr. Nanami?" He didn't reply, he just nodded. He was too busy studying you. your form, the way you spoke, everything. "Okay, I'm (Y/n). The new student." To stook out your hand as he shook it. Your soft, delicate hands. "Can I sit anywhere?" He nodded again. Never once has he been so starstruck by someone, a student.

He watched closely as you picked a seat, just a row behind the first one. Still close to the front. Still close to him.

Now the class he hated the most became the one he'll love the most.

#yandere nanami #nanami kento #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #nanami smut #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #kento #kento nanami #nanami x you #yandere nanami x reader #yandere nanami kento

652 notes · View notes

jellipuff · 3 months

Text

Pretty.

Pairing: Sub!Mingyu x reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut (18+, Minors dni!).

Wordcount: 4.2k

Summary: His interest in you was shocking. Star player Mingyu crushing on you? Who knew two years later that calling him pretty was all that was needed for him to fall deeper and who knew for him to get his way all he had to be was pretty? Short answer: you both knew.

Warnings: sub!mingyu!!, established relationship, football player mingyu, idk if this is gn!reader but i don’t think i mention anything too gender-related, Slight pwp, this is literally just reader fingerfucking Gyu with a side of fluff, anal play (m receiving), he's so spoiled, and a lil slutty, reader records them, slight exhibitionism(no one walks in but there are people in the house while they do this), mingyu just can't be quiet no matter how much he tries to say he can :(, reader teases gyu bc he’s cute, he just wants to be called pretty 24/7. (i think that's it?)

A/n: this is my first time writing in forever & my first time writing for svt. I can barely find any sub!svt fics especially mingyu so I thought let me write em myself 🙄. I hope its okay though LOL. also if you don't like it, don't read‼️ No need to burn me at the stake friend. Feedback is appreciated :)

You and Mingyu have been together since sophomore year. You both go to the same college and shared a few classes that year. Classes that weren't too important but important enough for it to affect your grade, school is just like that.

You heard about him in freshman year. He was admired by those around him for his athleticism in football. Quickly becoming one of the best players resulting in him being liked by not only his team but others as well. You didn't really know him then though, not caring to honestly. He was a wonderful football player, the crowd around him either being the same or being interested in it.

Oh, and interested in him.

Mingyu is a stunner, his looks giving him many opportunities in more ways than one. You would hear about how good in bed he was from people talking a bit too loudly in a library. When you’d go to parties with your friends you'd also see how people would try to get his attention. You’d watch as women threw themselves at him in hopes of being the one he takes to bed that night.

So you could see how you were surprised when he seemed to show interest in you.

You're not knocking yourself, you're beautiful and your personality shines just as much. It's just you and mingyu don't seem to have any compatibility if the things you know about him are anything to go by. “He manhandled me so well”, “Our first date was to see the new Fast & Furious.”, “He's so handsome.”

Sure none of those things are bad per se. You just know yourself well enough to know that when you think about mingyu just a little longer than you should that you want to manhandle him.

That if you were to go on a first date you'd want to take him to a cat cafe just to see how this puppy of a man would interact with them. That when you look at mingyu you know he is handsome but you can only seem to think he’s so pretty.

When you got paired together in two of your classes for a project you didn't know if you were fine with it or not. You don't know his work ethic or how his grades are, he shows up to class every day but does he actually care about his grades?

Though as he smiled brightly on his way over to you when your names were called together for the second time that day, you didn't seem to care too much about any of those things.

“Seems like fate huh?” he says with a grin as he sits by you. “What does?” you ask while pulling up a blank PowerPoint. “Us being a couple.” he says flirtatiously and you can't help but give him a look. “You mean us being project partners.” you reprimand but he waves you off.

“Same thing as what I said, either way, it happened twice. So that means it's fate.” he says taking your pink glitter pen to write both your names on the paper you were given. You watch as he draws a little smiling puppy and then a grumpy cat side by side underneath. He turns to you with a pretty smile, pleased at his artwork.

“Look it's us! You’re the grumpy cat.” he giggles and you think if he weren't so cute you'd tell him to find a different partner. Yet you don't tell him that nor do you tell him that this professor only allows blue or black ink.

You think that's the first time you realized maybe you got mingyu all wrong. Maybe he isn't just a jock who watches Fast and Furious and is strong in bed. You also realize this another time.

You and mingyu were doing your meet-up at his place. When he told you he has roommates you almost wanted to cancel on him. An apartment lived in by men sadly only filled your mind with overthinking.

What if it stunk? What if his room was messy? What if his roommates were creepy? You'd like to think mingyu wouldn't let them be weird toward you and that sedates your worries slightly.

As you walk into his place though you’re met with the smell of food cooking and shouting in the living room. Walking in further you see a game of Mario Kart being played and the smell is from the spaghetti being cooked by a man who smiles when he sees Mingyu.

The atmosphere was nice, leaving you to relax a bit from before. Mingyu introduced you to them all, telling them you're going into his room to work on a project not to fuck as his friend Seungkwan had joked. The way mingyu seemed to be flustered at his friend's joke is what leaves you amused.

The thought of him getting shy at being accused of something he is apparently good at and known for is cute. You learn the man cooking is Joshua, and you compliment him on the smell. He laughs; thanking you before saying “For once Mingyu’s crush has good taste.” he teases and Mingyu freezes.

He looks at you with wide eyes cheeks flushing at Joshua's slip of the tongue. “He’s just joking like he jokes like that a lot you know.” he hurries to say and you feel amused. “Uh huh.” you reply and Mingyu feels the need to make you believe he does not like you because what if you find that weird? You haven't shown interest in him at all.

“Yeah, he's dumb you know cause like I could never have a crush on you so what is he even saying?” he finishes with an awkward laugh. He doesn't see the way your smile falls and the way Joshua watches the whole thing unfold in horror. Feeling the need to check if his tall friend hit his head somewhere.

When mingyu does look back at you though he's met with a look he can't read but one that makes him feel like he wants to sink into the floor. “Let's just get this over with okay?” you say coldly and he feels like crying.

Sure he can handle heavy tackles, can handle sometimes getting bad grades, and can handle everyone thinking of him in ways that he isn’t. Right here and right now though? Mingyu realizes he can't handle feeling anything from you that isn't your usual warm sarcasm or soft smile. He realizes that seeing you dismiss him so seriously hurts him, it makes him small in a bad way.

So when you both get to his room and work in silence he thinks he'd rather die from embarrassment at the confession he's going to give than die from the pain of having you not glance his way once in the past hour.

“Um..you know I didn't mean that.” You don't look up when you hum in confusion instead focusing on the information you’re typing. “When I said that I could never have a crush on you I…I didn’t mean that because I do…have a crush on you.” he admits shyly but he doesn't look away. Needing you to understand that what he said earlier couldn't be further from true.

For what seems like forever you finally look at him and just your gaze makes his stomach feel funny. You stare at him, watching him try his hardest to not look away. Seeing his hands fidget from you observing him silently.

You think that right now mingyu looks the prettiest he ever has. His eyes not leaving yours to show his sincerity, blush covering from his ears to his cheeks, and knees to his chest. Leaving his feelings on the table must be scary for him. You know how mingyu feels about this.

He’s told you a few times how people always think they know what he likes, how he feels, and what he thinks. So he never says them, and never is honest with those who aren't close to him. Knowing that with others it's more like they set up what he should like, feel, and think.

Mingyu watches you smile, the warmest one he’s seen from you. Just that alone has him feeling better and then you shock him. “You're so pretty Gyu.” you say with so much admiration he short circuits.

Pretty? You think he's pretty? He's handsome he knows that everyone always tells him that but.. Pretty? Mingyu has never been associated with that and he feels fuzzy at it.

“Pretty?” he questions aloud and you hum with no hesitation “So pretty.” you repeat and mingyu suddenly feels shy, feeling the need to giggle. “You like being called pretty?” you ask endeared and he nods scooting closer to you. “Yeah, I like it.”

─﹒☆﹒─

However, dating mingyu for two years has left you being pleasantly surprised constantly. So when you figure out your boyfriend wants you to take him here with people around, you think for what feels like the millionth time that you’re surprised again.

You hear the laughter and bickering outside of the room. The only thing blocking you from all of the noise is the bedroom door or should you say that the door is the only thing blocking them from you.

Your attention is only focused on the boy who has your shirt fisted tightly as he brings you down to kiss him deeper. You feel him trying to bring his groin closer to your thigh but failing because you keep it too far. He whines again after another failed attempt at feeling something against him.

You pull back from the kiss with a grin, adoration all you feel for the pretty boy beneath you. “No, want more kisses.” he mewls, trying to pull you back down but you don't budge. “But kisses weren't part of the deal, baby.” You remind him and he looks away annoyed at the agreement he agreed to.

Here on a trip with your boyfriends teammates, friends and some of their partners was a joy. Loving being able to go with him somewhere different even if it's not too far from home. It's the fun that comes from enjoying time with him and being able to see him be complimented by his team.

His efforts and talent being highlighted always leave him with high cheeks that glow from smiling too hard. They all are happy right now. Winning games back to back with a few struggles they overcame felt like a blessing.

Just like having Mingyu underneath you with his cock leaking from just a few kisses is a blessing.

Having to split up into two Airbnbs leaves you and Mingyu with others in the house. Mingyu knew that yet he kept trying to gain your attention. He knew he already had it but he wanted your attention in another way.

You first caught onto his little game when he wore a pair of shorts that he knew you loved on him. The way they hug his hips and leave little to imagine at his thighs never fails to make you want to take him right there.

The thing is though Mingyu only wears those in your apartment. He never wears them anywhere else so there would be no need for him to pack them.

When he noticed you staring at him while he looked through the dresser for something he smiled at you before quickly changing. Saying ‘Oh must have accidentally packed these.” While laughing. Yet the throbbing in your core wasn't funny at all.

“Don't be annoyed baby, you were the one to agree, no?” You ask; sliding his underwear down his legs. “Yeah, but I didn't think you’d be this mean.” You smile, enjoying his sulking.

“Mean? Weren't you the one stringing me along all day baby? Until you finally caved in from your own game. Dragging me to the bathroom just begging for me to play with you. And what did I say?” you question watching his ears flush.

“You..you said only if you get to do what you want.” he replies, causing you to smile. “Mhmm and you said I could do anything I wanted, touch you wherever I would like. Do you remember where I said I wanted to touch you?” you ask and he goes quiet, feeling shy.

He doesn’t answer, head still turned away from you. That just won't do, will it?

You grab his chin, turning his face so he can look at you. “Where did I say I wanted to touch Mingyu?” you repeat harsher. Needing to hear him say it out loud. His eyes stay locked on yours before he says “My butt.” he says quietly and you hum, feeling turned on by how he seems so bashful despite this not being abnormal for you both.

“Good boy. You dragged me to the bathroom just to be told I want to see you spread open for me. You wanna know why?” he nods, wanting to hear you tell him. Yet he feels so needy he beats you to it. “Cause it's pretty, you said I'm prettiest when I take you well.” he answers for you.

You pat his cheek before moving down the bed. “That's right baby, so pretty when you're full of me. So pretty when you take anything I give you.”

You wish mingyu would have packed your strap, would have thought to bring at least a dildo in his lust-hazed mind but he didn't. So you'll just have to finger fuck him until you feel satisfied.

You grab the lube that Mingyu didn't forget to pack while leaning down to kiss him. “Color?” you ask and he smiles. “Green, just wish I could take something bigger” he pouts and you laugh softly at the confession. “Then you wouldn't be able to be quiet, so be thankful.” his brows furrow in offense. “I'm not that loud, I can be quiet.” he defends. “Well guess you better prove that now then huh?”

You take his hand in yours before kissing the back of it. You guide his hand underneath his right knee, leaning over to do the same with the left. Tapping his thigh to signal for him to pull them back and hold them closer to himself. He understands quickly, leaving him bare to the cold air and bare to you.

You rub your middle finger on his rim lightly causing him to sigh. Moving to open the lube you apply some to his hole and your fingers. “I'm going to put one in okay baby?” you alert him and he shakes his head. “Two.” you look up at him in disbelief.

“No, I need to prep you, don’t be greedy.” You tell him causing him to whine. “Two! I need something bigger. I can take it, I always take it well.” “Mingyu–” you try to chide.

“Please love, haven't been full in so long. Need to feel you stretch me, miss it.” he bats his lashes, already knowing he has you where he wants you. All he has to do is say a few sweet words, be pretty, and you’d do anything he requests.

“Just tell me if it hurts okay?” you sigh and he smiles, feeling spoiled.

You go back to rubbing his hole a few times before stopping. He looks to see why but you don't meet his gaze. Lust clouding your vision. You need to record him, need to make sure you get a video of him like this. “Gotta film you baby, gotta save it. Is that okay?” you question and he nods.

Loving the feeling of you thinking he’s lovely enough to photograph, lovely enough to be recorded for you to look back on.

You grab your phone from the nightstand before kneeling back on the bed. You open the camera before pressing record. Wasting no time, you slowly inch your two fingers into his hole, watching the way it grips your fingers tightly. You hear Mingyu moan softly, the feeling of you inside him too little but too much at the same time.

“It's pretty?” he asks sweetly and you groan quietly. His warmth surrounds your fingers making your brain feel like it's surrounding you. Making you feel like it's you filling him up, not your fingers, and god how you wish it was.

“Yes baby, it's pretty. All of you is so pretty.” he smiles pulling his legs higher. You point the camera from where your fingers move inside of him up onto his torso and face. Moving faster when you see him look up into the camera.

“Look at you, legs spread wide all for me. What do you think the others would think if they walked in here and saw you like this? Big boy Mingyu, the best player on the team getting his ass played with. Do you think they'd close the door? Or do you think they’d see just how pretty you are?”

His cock jumps at the thought of everyone thinking he's pretty. He only needs to be pretty for you but the thought of them saying it to him makes him groan. At the thought of his teammates, his eyes leave the camera to look at the door, eyeing the knob hoping it's locked only to see it's not.

“Oh no, you forgot to lock the door baby? It's almost like you want them to come in.” you accuse and he shakes his head. Hips starting to rock down to meet where your fingers move just a little faster, still much too slow for him. It leaves him wanting, leaves him jumping at every slide he does get to feel of your fingers on his prostate.

He knows you're missing it on purpose. He knows that you’re only hitting it when you want to and that makes him needier. Makes him have to guess which stroke is going to have to make him bite his lip to quiet his sounds.

You lean back pointing the camera to be focused on his hole as you take your fingers out. He whines at the loss, his hole feeling too empty. His cock lays hard against his stomach, tip flushing pretty against his tan skin. You slide three fingers back into him, the third adding a stretch that mingyu craved.

The stinging is so pleasurable it has him moaning your name. You and your touch are the only thing plaguing his mind.

“You gotta be quiet baby remember? I haven't even touched your dick yet and you're being loud. It's like you want everyone to hear you. Like you want them to walk in and watch.”

He shakes his head quickly even though his cock jumps at the idea. “No!” he whines. You shake your head in faux disappointment. Lifting the camera to his face, his glossy eyes finding it quickly. “Baby told me he’d be quiet and I believed him. Yet he’s such a slut for his ass being stuffed that he can't shut up.” you chastise.

“I c..can be quiet.” he stutters lowly. “Yeah?” you ask and he nods, going to respond yet cut off by you finding the spot that has his back arching off the bed.

You don't relent your movements only seeming to increase. He can't help but cry out, the sounds leaving him bounce off the walls causing you to feel aflame

“Fuck, baby. You look so pretty.” you groan. He doesn’t answer instead putting his hand over his mouth as you abuse his prostate nonstop, his thighs shaking yet never faltering from their position. “Grab your cock Gyu, don't you think it'd feel good baby?” You order him and he looks up at you nervously.

If he takes his hand off his mouth he doesn't think he’d be able to be silent especially if he jerks himself off while you finger him.

Though that's what you want.

You want to see him cum, want to see his jaw slack and cock twitch when he makes a mess of himself. To hear him cry your name out because that's all that pops into his pretty little head. He removes his hand from his mouth slowly, bringing it down to hold his cock: unmoving. “Go on baby.” his eyes flicker from the camera to his cock before pumping it slowly.

The feeling makes him sigh. Your fingers slow down so as to not overwhelm him. “Feel good?” you question and he looks back to you. Pink lips shining and eyes glossy. “Yeah..” he trails off quietly. You smile, your panties left wet from this.

His effort, his beauty, his warmth, all of it makes you go crazy.

You pick up your pace again. Fingers fucking against his prostate unrelenting causing pleasure to overtake him so fast he almost forgets how to stroke his cock. You smile as his hand stutters and his eyes roll back. You look at the camera seeing the way his sweat makes his skin shine.

“What's wrong Gyu? Why’d you stop?” you question, voice laced with faux confusion. He looks up into the camera. His face is so pretty you think you could cum just from seeing him like this.

Even though he's not necessarily staring at you it feels like he only sees you, the phone not even in his vision.

“Can’t Y/n, can't.” he cries out. His lip quivering, he feels so good, loves you so much. He needs your help. Only you know how to ruin him so good, touch him in a way he never can. “Need my help baby?” You inquire and he nods.

His brain is too fuzzy, all he wants is for you to make him cum. Wants to feel your touch everywhere. You grab his cock tightly before pumping him quickly. “Yes, yes..“ he moans out. Hands pulling his thighs closer, hoping maybe it'll let him feel you more.

Suddenly the noise from in the house gets louder, cheering for something unknown being heard. “What do you think they'd say if they knew they were in our video baby? Knew that their voices could be heard while I film me fingerfucking you?” you question before squeezing him tighter. Strokes gliding easily from how messy he already is.

“Ahhh, good s’good!” he moans. Not caring about how his voice is getting louder and how the house is suddenly getting quieter.

“Y/n…y/n!” he cries hips moving up and down. Trying to pull more pleasure from wherever he can get it. “Close baby?” you ask lowly.

“Mmm! feels good, feels so good. Wish it was deeper.” he whimpers out. “I’ll just have to keep you stretched till we go home tomorrow then huh? Then I’ll fuck you deep baby, make you feel me here.” You press your palm on his stomach and the action sends him over the edge.

His stomach tenses and his eyes open to find yours once more. He needs to see you while he cums, to see how you look down at where his cum lands on his stomach while some drips down your hand.

Your name falls from his lips in a sob, letting the whole house know who makes him feel like this. Letting them know who makes star football player Mingyu sound like this.

You take your fingers out of his hole he whines at the slide of them. Pointing the camera to where his hole is now empty. Watching as he clenches around nothing as if to entice you back in. You moan at the sight, such a pretty hole on your pretty boy. You turn the camera off, throwing your phone to the side.

“Was I pretty?” he asks when you lean over him to kiss his neck. “The prettiest.” you admit truthfully. He giggles, loving how you see him.

“Want more kisses now.” he pleads and you smile moving to look down at him “You weren't quiet.” you jokingly remind him. Mingyu whines, feeling frustrated from his lack of kisses. “Don't care. You like it when everyone knows how much of a mess you make me. So shh and give me my kisses.” he vocalizes pulling you closer to him.

You laugh and kiss him lovingly. His lips are always soft and inviting as you press yours to his. Neither of you moves back until your lungs beg for air.

He leans up for one more peck before laying back against the pillows with a pretty grin. “So what I’m hearing is you weren't even trying to be quiet.” you tease; standing up and helping him lean against the headboard. You help him put his clothes on so you can head to the shower. Sure the bathroom is right across the hall but you don't want to risk the chance of someone seeing Mingyu walking; ass out.

“I was trying.” he replies causing you to roll your eyes. “Sure gyu.” You don't even have to look at him to see his leg bounce. “I was!” you only laugh at his insistence.

“Whatever just be quiet from here to the bathroom, then maybe I’ll give you more kisses.” You open the door and look over your shoulder to see him close behind, mouth shut. You giggle at his cuteness.

He knows it's an empty threat, He’s just too pretty that you'd give him anything no matter what he does.

You both know that.

#mingyu x reader #sub!mingyu x reader #sub!mingyu #dom!reader #svt x dom!reader #mingyu smut #mingyu fluff #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #svt x reader #sub!svt #svt smut #svt fluff #sub!idol #svt imagines #svt fanfic

579 notes · View notes