#🎶His steps are soft🎶 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bluebeary-jay · 1 year

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How easy you are to need

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Joel notices that the peaceful life in Jackson has its consequences. he is not happy about it (based on this wonderful ask!)

Tags: TONS OF ANGST, but also FLUFF, established relationship, ahh intrusive thoughts (how much i hate them), Joel is probably ooc but i don't care anymore, also he's soft and insecure and vulnerable

Warnings: body dismorphia and lots of self-loathing on Joel's side, at one (two?) points borderline on smut ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) hihihi, swearing, drinking (just mentioned), suggestive stuff bc apparently i can't help myself 😌

Word count: 8K ! (8028 specifically woah)

A/N: the next fic will definitely be shorter bc i really need to start caring less about the quality of my work, it takes way too long for my liking. buuut anyway as always 🎶i hope yall will like it🎶 this is my birthday gift for you guys 💕

Joel looked at himself in the mirror with furrowed brows.

He pulled in his stomach and tried to zip his pants. It still fit, but barely. He undid the zip, turned to the side and looked at his reflection again, just to make sure.

Yeah. This pair was definitely loose until a while ago.

He glanced at the door, but didn’t hear you coming, so he sighed and looked in the mirror again. Joel was never particularly muscular, but he could no longer see those thin lines which accentuated his torso before. There was also a bit of fat above the hem of his jeans, and his frame seemed somehow heavier…

Good thing his left ear was directed to the door, because he heard the moment the water in the shower stopped running, which meant you were coming back from the bathroom. Joel spared himself one last wary look and zipped up his pants before turning around to your shared bed where his shirt lay discarded.

He was putting his arms into the sleeves when you entered. A couple of light steps, and then Joel smiled when he felt your arms wrapping around his torso. He glanced over his shoulder at you.

“You took your sweet time in the shower,” he pointed out, and he could feel your smile when you pressed your face to his back.

“We finally have hot water, so I’m gonna use it every chance I get.”

“You left some for me?”

You huffed a laugh and went around him, moving his hands away and starting to button his shirt yourself.

“There would be, if you took a shower with me.”

“Next time, sweetheart,” he chuckled and leaned in to kiss your forehead softly, combing his fingers through your wet hair. He hummed. “Your hair smells nice.”

“It’s that shampoo Ellie didn’t want.” You shook your head with a smile. “I have no idea why, it’s fantastic.”

You buttoned up the last button and smoothed your palms over his chest and down, lastly resting them on his waist. Internally Joel furrowed his eyebrows, wondering if he could always feel this fold when you put your hands in that place.

“You look handsome,” you whispered, looking up at him with twinkling eyes and such a soft, love-struck expression on your face that Joel felt his throat constricting. Everything but the sight of you faded from his mind, and he joined his hands behind your back, pulling you closer into his chest and basking in this precious smile you blessed him with. “Especially with the bed hair.”

“It’s your doin’, you know,” he murmured in response, nudging your nose with his and reminiscing how you tugged and raked your nails through his hair the night before. “You gotta be careful with it, sweet girl. If you continue doin’ it, m’gonna go bald soon.”

You hummed noncommittally and leaned against his chest, standing on your tip-toes. “I’ll take it under consideration. No promises, though.”

Joel lifted his hand to the back of your neck and kissed you slowly, reveling in the soft sigh that left your lips. You rested your palm above his heart, leaning forward to the point that you would fall over if he wasn’t supporting your weight.

But Joel held you tight and close to his body, gladly steadying you as you deepened the kiss, once again tugging on his graying hair in that way he adored. He wanted to tease you about it, but his thoughts strayed to the image of his body again when you lowered your hand from his chest to his side.

“You remember that tonight is this party?” you asked suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts. Joel gave up pondering about his physique and sighed heavily at your question, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Yeah, I remember. Regrettably.”

“I don’t want to go, either,” you whispered with guilt, as if someone would hear you both. “But Tommy really wanted us to come and… Just don’t make me go alone.”

“Hey, darlin’.” Joel took your face in his hands and looked deeply into your eyes. “I promised, didn’t I? M’not gonna leave you there on your own.” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, smiling against them. “And mind you, I gotta make sure no one will try to seduce and steal you away from me.”

You giggled, and you were standing so close that Joel could feel your eyelashes tickling his skin. He held you close when you tried to take a step back, and your lips collided again.

“That is the one thing you don’t need to ever worry about,” you murmured quietly into the space between you two. “How could I even look at other people when I have you all to myself?”

Joel’s reflection in the mirror flashed across his mind again and a small wave of uncertainty rippled through him, but it quickly disappeared when you opened your eyes and looked at him with this raw love radiating from them. Your every word, every affectionate gesture only confirmed his conviction that you meant every word you said.

So why did he still feel so uncertain?

*****

Life in Jackson was perfect. Considering the state of the world right now, living here was like winning a lottery.

Joel had a lot to be thankful for, he was well aware of that. No longer had he any fears or sense of guilt about going to sleep and leaving you and Ellie defenseless if something were to happen. He didn’t have to count rations anymore, worrying that the kid would be forced to march all day hungry. There was now no need to keep a watchful eye for new clothes if someone’s worn off, ripped or got soaked from walking in the rain, posing a threat of you or Ellie catching a cold.

Back in Boston it wasn’t much different, though he and you had at least a bed to sleep in, as uncomfortable as it was. But there was never enough food for all those people Fedra kept there, and the winters were cold as hell, leaving at least one of you a bit sick every year.

None of those things were keeping him awake at night anymore. The only people he had to take care of – you and Ellie – were safe and comfortable. None of you had to starve or freeze, and you all didn’t have to continue walking across the country for days and days without end, struggling to survive.

Maybe that was the problem.

Joel wasn’t stupid. He knew that those luxuries he had an access to now were at the root of his problem. Before you all settled in Jackson, you were constantly on the move, fighting for your lives in one way or another, so of course he was… leaner and more fit back then. It was never something he paid attention to, though, never something he concerned himself with.

But now you three were living here, surrounded by more people than Joel could count, and he couldn’t help but… notice things about them.

Especially about all those men and women who looked at you in a different way.

Due to the nature of the party Tommy invited them to – mainly consisting of dancing and talking in the biggest bar in Jackson – Joel had a lot of time to ponder about his situation, all while nursing his drink and looking at you from across the room with his elbows resting on the table.

You were chatting with one of your friends near the counter, laughing and smiling so beautifully. No matter where Joel’s eyes strayed, they always came back to your person, as if you were the moon against the pitch black sky, reflecting some imperceptible light.

Some guy he knew by sight – Chuck? Bart? – walked up and tapped you on the shoulder, and from what Joel could tell, he was offering you a drink. He was standing way too close, though, and you took a step closer to your friend, shaking your head. Chuck – or Bart – persisted for another half a minute, but eventually shrugged and shuffled off, his movements tense.

Joel didn’t move. He knew from experience that you’d let him know if you needed his help.

As if sensing his gaze, you turned your head and sent him a radiant smile. He mirrored it, lifting his glass slightly like he was toasting you, which made you do the same before resuming the conversation with your friend.

His smile disappeared as soon as you stopped looking at him. Joel sighed and rubbed his eyes with his fingers, feeling a headache coming from the dull lights and loud chatter all around.

It were moments like this when it hit him just how old he was compared to you.

You were a sweet, young thing. Funny, sharp, drop-dead gorgeous… No wonder some people were seeking your attention. That guy was just one of the half a dozen he saw or heard about since you moved to Jackson.

Joel knew you were a loyal sort – God, he knew that, he knew you for so long now – but every time he saw you talking to someone else, his treacherous mind started to wonder if he wasn’t somehow keeping you chained to his person.

It was probably alcohol talking, but Lord, if he wasn’t reminded of how old he was compared to you every time he saw you next to your peers. You still had so much life ahead of you, and he was pushing sixty, for fuck’s sake. Before long he’ll be old and decrepit, unable to bring something useful to the table or help you in any way, and you’d still be as pretty as ever, trapped in a relationship with an old man.

For example, that guy – Chuck, or whomever – was way closer to your age, had handsome features, and Joel knew for a fact he was working at tree felling, so he had to be muscular, too.

Joel was once, too. Once.

He subtly ran his hand across his stomach under the jacket, his brows furrowed, and leaned back on the bench to get rid of those damned fat folds.

He sighed and downed the rest of the liquor in his glass, trying very hard not to think about it, not to put himself down like that and let those cruel thoughts fester in his mind, but no matter what, he couldn’t stop comparing himself to this guy, and also… how you looked next to him.

Shit. What if he was doing you more harm than good by continuing to stay with you?

“I could pickpocket you and you wouldn’t notice.”

Joel looked up, abruptly pulled out of his thoughts. You were standing over his table with your head tilted and still that beaming smile on your face.

“What are you thinking about, handsome?”

He opened his mouth, glanced in the direction of the bar, and closed it. There was no sign of any of the people you just talked with.

“Nothin’,” he replied, maybe a little too dryly, so he quickly changed the subject. “You havin’ fun?”

“Yeah, it’s nicer than I thought.” You looked around and then spotted the empty glass on the table in front of him. “Do you want me to bring you another one?”

“No, there’s no need,” he grumbled, but you had already put your drink down and sent him a wink.

“I'll be right back, baby.”

Joel hissed your name but you just looked over your shoulder with a smirk, swinging your hips provocatively to the music and ignoring him completely. He sighed heavily, slumping in his seat.

He needed to get his shit together. Fuck his insecurities, he didn’t want to take his frustration out on you when you were nothing but a ray of sunshine in his life, always so good and affectionate.

Joel’s thoughts came to a sudden stop when he searched for you in the crowd and noticed another man, this time one he didn’t know, swinging his arm over your shoulders while you waited at the bar. He tried to read your body language from here, but you didn’t seem particularly uncomfortable with the man’s actions. Joel furrowed his brows, a pit of uncertainty forming in his stomach again... but then you threw the man’s heavy limb off your shoulders and went back to Joel’s table as soon as you got the drink.

“Thanks, darlin’,” he murmured, taking a large gulp despite telling himself earlier that he was done drinking for today. “Were you okay back there?” He pointed his chin towards the bar.

You sat down next to him and smiled innocently. “Whatever do you mean?”

Joel knew you long enough to recognize when you were teasing him, and he smirked despite the doubts swirling in his mind.

“Was that guy givin’ you any trouble?” he asked lazily, deciding to play along.

“Would you beat the shit out of him if I said yes?” you asked with your eyebrows raised, and Joel shrugged, acting nonchalant.

“Probably.”

You giggled and bumped his shoulder with yours playfully.

“Then no. Peter’s a good guy. Just a little,” you seemed to be looking for the right word, “uhm, persistent.” When Joel sent you a dubious look, you rolled your eyes and made a face. “He’s politely hitting on me, but doesn’t get that I’m not interested. He works at the same place I do.”

“If he keeps makin’ you uncomfortable, that’s not very polite.” You squinted at him and Joel lifted his hands in fake surrender. “M’not sayin’ anythin’. You can take care of yourself, I know that.”

You hummed melodically and glanced at the bar, then back at Joel. Then back at the bar again where that Peter guy stood. Joel noticed you biting the inside of your cheek, so he gently nudged your knee with his.

“What’s on your mind, sweet girl?”

“Maybe you could help me make it clear that I’m taken?” you blurted out quickly, making him crack a smile and chuckle under his breath.

It was so very easy to forget about all the problems in the world when you were there, sitting right next to him and warming his soul and body with your mere presence.

“Come ‘ere,” he breathed and tugged you gently to sit on his lap. You faltered, but he gave your hand another light tug, and finally you let him guide you, putting one arm around his shoulders and making yourself comfortable.

Joel’s hand mindlessly went to rest on your thigh and he rubbed it comfortingly. That Peter guy, as he noted with satisfaction, was staring right back at you, eyeing the way your body was pressed flush against Joel’s with a twisted face.

Once the eyes of the both men met, Joel leaned in and kissed your neck, keeping eye contact the entire time. Peter turned away, taking a large swig from his glass.

Joel felt your muscles relaxing, and you giggled adorably next to his ear at his antics, hiding your neck between your shoulders when he nibbled at your skin lightly. Then your hand covered his, the one lying on your thigh, and stroked his skin lovingly.

Maybe Joel was keeping you chained somehow. Then again, he was but a selfish creature after all. He didn’t know if he could bring himself to ever truly let you go.

*****

The next few days – which then turned into weeks – Joel spent wondering. Mostly about what to do with his predicaments.

He had a couple of them.

The first problem was the nights. They became more difficult since he noticed… details about himself that weren’t there before, and which bothered him more and more with each day.

Joel used to love the nightfall, especially since you all settled in Jackson. In those evening hours no one bothered him, he could finally relax, spend some time alone with you, and later collapse on the bed to get a good-night sleep.

Well, not anymore.

The bedtime unexpectedly became the most stressful one for him. He was so fucking mad at himself, because laying down and having a chance to hold you in his arms was something he treasured for the longest time, but now his own insecurities stood in a way of it.

You loved cuddling and being close to him in your sleep, and Joel was never bothered by it – hell, he initiated those moments more often than not. But now he started noticing more and more how this layer of fat on his stomach moved and looked like when you draped your arm around him or snuggled closer to his chest, and it became all he could think about.

It bothered Joel so much that he started wearing a t-shirt to bed, even though he hated it with all his passion. When you asked about it, he lied that he’s cold, but in reality he was always sweaty by morning. It didn’t seem to make any difference to you, though, and you didn’t shy away from pressing your body close to his, and even slipping your hands under his shirt when you were spooning him. Some days Joel was waking up with you lying on his chest or having your arm slung across his belly, and every time it caused a lump in his throat.

He knew you didn’t mean anything bad by it – for God’s sake, you probably didn’t even have any idea that he had a problem with himself – but what once was a wonderful start of the day, now became a bitter reminder of all those things he was insecure about.

Recently he built a habit of waking up before you – he did it often before, but he always stayed in bed and waited for you to open your eyes, too – and carefully disentangling himself from your embrace. It wasn’t like it didn’t feel wonderful to be enveloped by you in this way, but once he stirred awake, lying still was a herculean task. No matter how much he tried to ignore it, his skin was itching and buzzing, he was sweating from nerves and a lot of horrible, self-depriving thoughts were flooding his mind.

So once he woke up, he’d go take a shower, trying to be a little bit louder than necessary in hopes that you’d already be awake when he gets back – so that he wouldn’t feel so guilty about not laying back down next to you.

The second of his problems was that you began to watch him more closely.

He didn’t know when it started happening, but in hindsight he realized it was just a matter of time – he was acting weird, after all, and you knew him too well not to notice anything.

A couple of times in the last few days only, Joel caught you staring at him in silence. Your eyes were solemn and your forehead sad, though you were quick to smile and act like nothing was amiss as soon as he turned your way.

You must have known something was wrong, but Joel didn’t ask about it. Honestly, with all that was happening in his own head, he didn’t want to know.

But at the same time it was as if nothing odd was happening. You were your usual self, a blessing in Joel’s life, and you still sought to be close to him and spend as much time together as possible. You still told him you loved him, surprised him with unexpected gestures of affection…

Just like today – you hugged him from behind while he was dressing up, started kissing his shoulders so tenderly and murmuring sweet nothings into his skin… In those moments Joel could almost forget about everything that was nagging him. It was easy to believe that you still liked the way he looked, that he was deserving of you, when you treated him with nothing but overwhelming love.

But the itch in the back of his mind never really disappeared. Even though he wanted it to.

Those thoughts filled his mind while you were sitting on his lap, telling him some story from work in a soft voice. You two were at Tommy’s, waiting for him to get back from helping his wife with something, and the day was so beautiful that you all went out onto the patio in front of the house to enjoy the unusually warm weather for this time of the year.

Joel’s hand was on your thigh, stroking it absentmindedly, while he nodded to whatever you were saying, but for the life of him, he could not focus.

Has your physique changed as well? Joel didn’t care about those things, of course, and in his eyes you were as breathtaking as ever – maybe even more, since so many of your worries disappeared and he got to see your smile more often. And you still felt perfect under his hands when he was holding you at night, still looked like a goddess every time he got to admire your naked body.

But even though he wouldn’t have cared either way if you gained some weight or looked any different, his body still bothered him.

You rested your head on his shoulder, and Joel fixed his attention to the wind-blown tree crowns in the distance.

Maybe he should start exercising.

Joel never liked the idea of waking up early and running down the streets in a sweat-soaked t-shirt, or going to the gym where everyone seems to stare and judge you, but it was never necessary.

With how much traveling, heavy-lifting and working he had to do, he never concerned himself with the way he looked. Hell, these things are the last on your mind when you’re fighting for your life in this god-forsaken world. But here, in Jackson, it was different. Life was good, and you were happy. And as stupid as it sounded for him, Joel wanted to look good for you.

Maybe he should ask Maria to assign him to extra patrols. He already volunteered for the morning ones, but perhaps…

“You’re quiet.”

Joel didn’t realize you stopped telling your story. He pressed his lips together and his hand on your thigh stilled.

“Sorry.”

“No need for that,” you reassured him quickly. Then you cupped his cheeks and lifted his head gently. “I don’t mean ‘now’, though, I mean… lately, in general.” Your eyes were flickering across his face, like you were hoping to read the answer from his features. “Is there something you wanna talk about?”

No. Hell no. It was bad enough that Joel himself was aware of his issue, he didn’t want to make it even more noticeable by pointing it out to you.

Which reminded him – he moved his torso away from you only a few millimeters.

“No, babygirl,” he answered. He brushed some hair behind your ear, smiling softly even though inside he despised himself for lying to you. “Everythin’s fine.”

You didn’t seem convinced and still were studying his face with concern. Joel resumed petting your thigh, wanting to put you at ease. He could worry about himself, but he didn’t need to concern you with his problems, too.

“I promise,” he added. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

That look in your eyes didn’t disappear, but you hummed and dropped your hands. It didn’t take a genius to know you didn’t believe him.

“If you say so,” you answered at last, and then covered his hand on your leg with your own. “But remember you can talk to me whenever you want. About anything.”

Jesus, your kindness was only confirming his concerns if he was the right person for you. Joel shook his head with a crooked smile.

“You’re gettin’ sappy.”

“It’s because I’m worried,” you shot back without skipping a beat, swatting at his chest with the back of your hand. “And you’re not making it any easier.”

“There’s nothin’ for you to worry about,” he repeated, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. But he failed.

You pressed your lips together and then made a move to get up from his lap without a word. Joel held onto you delicately, not letting you stand up.

“Wait, darlin’,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “Didn’t mean to say it that way. I just… feel tired. Sorry.”

Your eyes softened when you took in the regret and weariness on his face. Joel felt your fingertips on his jaw, but before you could question him further, Tommy returned from the inside of the house with a grin.

“Age is a heavy burden, eh, ol’ dog?” he teased, apparently having heard the last bit of their conversation. The younger Miller placed three bottles of beer on the table, and winked at you. “That’s just how it is for us now. Enjoy your youth while you still can, punk.”

Joel felt a sharp jab in his ribs, not unlike being stabbed. He couldn’t find it in himself to look at his brother, less alone laugh at his teasing.

Of course Tommy didn’t mean anything bad by it, but his words were just a bitter reminder of the ever-present pit of Joel’s stomach.

The weight of you on his lap suddenly felt a lot lighter, and he himself felt so, so very heavy and tired.

Old.

Joel could feel your eyes boring into his face, but a second later you turned to Tommy, taking the burden of filling the uncomfortable silence.

“It’s already started for me. Sometimes I feel like my bones want to kill me prematurely.”

“M’sure Joel won’t let that happen. He’d fight your skeleton if you said it’s botherin’ you.”

You snorted and shook your head, but your smile faltered when you turned to Joel again. He almost broke down right then and there from the guilt and tightness in his chest.

And the dark feeling inside him just grew when your eyes stayed sad and concerned for the rest of the day.

*****

It had to end.

Joel could no longer pretend everything was alright like he wasn’t dying on the inside every time you did as much as hold his hand. He felt horrible about lying, avoiding spending time together and denying you affection he knew you so loved receiving.

If he was being honest with himself, he wanted this affection, too. Undisturbed with self-doubts and guilt.

He fucking craved it.

Those last few weeks, his evenings were mostly spent away from you and the warmth of your shared home. The nights, on the other hand, when he would sneak in and quietly lay down next to you (but just a little further away), became full of intrusive thoughts and wallowing in self-loathing.

No matter what excuse he came up with, you were persistent in holding and being close to him during the night, and Joel discovered that the only way to prevent you from doing it was to come to bed after you’ve already fallen asleep.

But it was a damn torture.

The worst part was when he was coming home to the sight of you lying amongst the tangled sheets and blankets in his bed. No matter if you were drooling or a pillow has imprinted itself on your cheek, every time this sight made Joel weak in the knees. You looked like a gorgeous, priceless painting, and it pained him to disrupt your rest with his arrival.

He tried to volunteer for evening patrols, because then he’d have a real reason to come home late, but not only Maria didn’t want to pair him with anyone during those hours – she also suspended him from all patrols whatsoever. Joel was understandably furious, but the damn woman threatened to tell Tommy about it if he kept being ‘a stubborn pain in her ass’. She sent him back home, murmuring something about spending more time with you, which he tried to pretend he hadn’t heard.

Joel sighed, sitting up on the edge of the bed and hiding his face in his hand.

If Maria of all people could see that there were some problems in your and Joel’s relationship, then you had to notice, too.

Christ, he was the worst.

Joel didn’t want to push you away, of course not. He wanted to stay with you more than anything, but that desire did nothing to diminish the guilt suffocating him. For some time, he felt like the luckiest man alive, having the privilege to call you his and every day come home to you. But now with all those little things he started to notice, he felt like a fraud.

It wasn’t even about him not deserving you anymore – it was that you didn’t deserve this fucking treatment he was giving you these past few weeks.

Fuck, he had to tell you the truth. About the patrols, sneaking out, distancing himself, all of it. He couldn’t bear lying to you a day longer.

Joel stood up and pulled his sweaty t-shirt over his head. He wrinkled his nose at the smell and patted himself under his armpits and on the back, then reached for a clean one.

He’ll figure it out. He just needed some time to come up with a way to–

“Morning, handsome.”

Joel flinched and turned around quickly, not having realized you were awake, but whatever excuse he had in mind, it fell dead on his lips.

You stretched with a groan, reaching one arm high above your head and rubbing your eyes with the other hand. A sleepy smile danced on your lips when you looked back at him with sparkles in your slightly puffy eyes, and Joel didn’t have any other word to describe you than ‘ethereal’.

“What are you doing?” you asked groggily, relaxing against the pillow and looking him up and down.

“Uhmm…” he hesitated, clutching the t-shirt that was in need of washing close to his chest. His gaze was drawn to the window. “Goin’ out, actually. I’ve got some work…”

“No, you don’t,” you interrupted him and swung off the covers from his side of the bed. “Get back here.”

Joel looked at you with surprise.

“What?”

“You heard me, Miller. Get your ass back on the bed.”

He crumpled the shirt in his hands, hesitating, but his eyes softened as soon as he looked back at you and your raised eyebrows – like you were challenging him to just try and refuse you.

But how could he, when you looked so pretty lying in his bed and demanding to have him close to you? How could he ever deny you anything?

With a defeated sigh, Joel started putting the t-shirt back on, but the sound of you humming in protest stopped him. Your face was grumpy when he glanced up.

“Nah. No shirt.” You extended your hand in his direction, making a grabbing motion. “Come here.”

Joel didn’t move. “Why?”

You rolled your eyes and dramatically flopped down onto the pillows, looking up at him with an adorable pout.

“Because it’s been a long time since I got a chance to admire my handsome, sexy man,” you answered with sincerity, and then grinned. “Now come here. If you ditch your shirt, I’ll consider ditching mine.”

He still didn’t move. You were patient, but when it became clear that he wasn’t going to do anything, you sent him a small, sweet smile. “If you get cold again, I promise to do something about it, love.”

Joel physically felt his heart softening at your words and at the sight of you.

With a silent sigh – and only a split second of hesitation – he took off the t-shirt and quickly laid down on his back next to you. He felt a bile rise in his throat, though he had no idea why, and it became almost choking when you shifted closer to him, putting one hand on his chest.

“You’ve deprived me of this beautiful view for too long,” you whispered, kissing the place below his collarbone, and then going up to the base of his neck. “I missed seeing you like this.”

“There’s nothin’ to miss,” Joel muttered, not moving a single muscle. He had his hands entwined on his stomach and to look in your direction was the biggest effort anyone could demand from him now. “We sleep next to each other every night, sweetheart.”

“You know what I mean,” you breathed into his neck, leaving love bites wherever your lips strayed. “You’re going out so early these days. And you work late.”

“Patrols,” Joel grunted with gritted teeth, his muscles tense and breathing ragged as your warm palm caressed his waist. “Sorry.”

“You work too hard, love.” You sat up and swung one of your legs over his lap. Joel actually shivered when you took his hands in your own and placed them on your hips. “Let me help you relax.”

Oh, fuck.

Jesus fucking Christ, Joel was sure he was going to drop dead at any second now.

“Darlin’…” he began, but you made a noise in your throat and leaned in to kiss him deeply, pressing your body to his. Joel loved when you initiated those moments between you two, and you looked so fucking hot sitting on top of him – but for the life of him, he could not relax.

“It hits me every once in a while how lucky I am to have you,” you whispered in such a sweet, adoring voice, like you didn’t hear him. You pressed your lips against his stubble again, igniting every inch of his skin with your touch. “Let me enjoy you. I love you so much, you know that?”

“I…”

I love you, too.

Lord, he loved you so much. Why was it so hard to return your affections, then? Why did he feel like the biggest crook by letting you love him?

Joel let out a shuddering sigh he didn’t know he was holding when you pressed your lips to the edge of his jaw, before capturing his mouth in a kiss. It was sweet, but heated at the same time and, without even thinking about it, he found himself wrapping his strong arms around you, bringing you closer to his chest. You smiled against his lips and murmured something he didn’t quite catch.

A groan escaped him when you bit his lower lip lightly, your soft palm going down, from his chest, to his stomach, down…

He couldn’t do it.

Joel abruptly rose to the sitting position and grabbed your wrist, his eyes sad and painful.

“I’m sorry, baby” he said with furrowed brows, gently setting you aside and off his lap, before standing up quickly. “I’m so sorry, babygirl, I love you, I promise, but I can’t… I don’t feel good today. I’m sorry.”

“Joel…” you started, but he shook his head, putting his t-shirt back on and turning away from you not to let you see the absolute wrecked expression on his face and wetness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he kept saying, feeling like he’s about to throw up from the nerves and the burning shame. He cursed himself internally, wanting to turn around, to take your face in his hands and kiss you deeply, but he… he... “I’m so…”

All strength left him in a blink of an eye and suddenly he slumped on the bed, hiding his face in his hands. Joel desperately tried to get a grip on himself, but his chest felt so tight, and all the worry, all the guilt and fear, and self-loathing came crashing down on him all at once.

“M’sorry, darlin’,” he whispered hoarsely, his lips trembling and that damn muscle in his cheek pulsing when he felt the mattress dipping and your tentative touch on his face.

“No, no, baby, it’s alright,” you started saying quietly, trying to take his cheeks in your hands, but he didn’t let you. “Oh, Joel… Come here.”

You gently pulled him into your arms, guiding his head to rest in the crook of your neck. Joel hid his face in your skin, realizing with dread that his own shoulders were shaking.

For God’s sake, he needed to stop, he needed to put himself together and not show any weakness–

But it was you. It was your warm embrace and your loving hands brushing his hair, and your quiet whispers while you held him. It was your kindness and understanding, and stubbornness coming from love. You weren’t someone he had to hide from.

So he let you in. He let you hold him.

“Joel, please. Talk to me,” you spoke up after some time, and though your tone was soft, it somehow sounded too loud in the silence of the room. “I need to know what’s going on with you, you’re worrying me.”

“Nothin’ is goin’ on,” he answered out of habit, not even moving a muscle. “I just… fuck, sorry.”

“Stop apologizing and talk to me.” Joel pursed his lips, while you massaged his back gently. “Whatever it is, we’re gonna get through it together, okay? It’s gonna be okay, love, I promise.”

He planned on telling you. He wanted to tell you and get it off his chest, but… he wasn’t ready. Not now. Not when he broke down in front of you, for fuck’s sake.

But you deserved to know. If not to help him, then at least to make you aware of what you’ve gotten yourself into. It wasn’t fair to keep you in the dark and at arm’s length because of his absurd fears.

He wetted his lips and inhaled softly, but no words came out.

You gently lifted his head and Joel immediately squeezed his eyes shut, knowing there was no way he’d be able to say anything if he looked at you.

“You can tell me, baby,” you whispered sadly, touching the side of his face. “Anything. I promise everything will be alright.”

Joel was silent for a couple of moments, before he swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to calm down his pounding heart.

“I don’t have any extra work,” he started very quietly, so his voice wouldn’t break. “I was lyin’ to you, and I… I’m so sorry about that. I don’t get sent on any patrols now, actually…”

He shook his head and sighed heavily, faltering. He knew that wasn’t the problem, and although lying to you was one of the things he was guilty of, it wasn’t what started all of it. And you must’ve known it, too, because you kept looking at him, not saying anything.

“The thin’ is, I… God dammit,” he murmured, turning his head away from you and hiding his face in his hands, still keeping his eyes closed. “I can’t… I don’t– I have a problem with myself,” he finally blurted out, not even caring now if you understood his muffled words. “I keep…”

Fuck, man, just say it.

“I’m… I’m not as fit as I used to be,” he murmured, not moving an inch in fear that you’ll spot the wetness on his eyelashes. “I don’t want to do you harm, darlin’, keepin’ you from… Jesus, I don’t know. From livin’ your life, happily and to the fullest.”

“Joel…” You whispered with pain in your voice. “Is this what it is about?”

Joel shook his head, letting out a shuddering breath, still as quietly as he could.

“I’m old,” he said with tiredness he didn’t know he had in himself. “And you… You’re so pretty and young, I…” He lowered his forehead onto his hand, rubbing his temple. “I would like nothin’ more than to spend the rest of my life with you, darlin’. But I’m afraid I’m not… not good for you. You could do so much better–”

“Hey. Hey, none of that.” You forced his hands away from his face by cradling it in your own palms. “There’s no one else I’d rather share my days with.”

Joel just shut his eyes tighter, trying to contain the tears that started to gather in them.

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered. “But in a couple of years I’ll be… God, I’ll be fuckin’ sixty, and you–”

“Do you really think I care about that?” you asked softly, brushing your thumbs under his eyes, but he shook his head, like you didn’t understand. “Joel, I love you more than anything in this world. And I know you love me.” He heard the faintest smile in your voice, and it made him feel so, so terrible with himself – that you were trying to make him feel better when you shouldn’t have, he shouldn’t have been another one of your worries… “So where’s the problem? I want to be with you. Only you.”

Joel pressed his lips together and before he could stop himself, he draped his arms over his lap, like he was trying to hide the evidence of his insecurities from you, even though his torso was already covered by the t-shirt.

“You’re young and beautiful,” he repeated, still unable to find strength in himself to look you in the eye. “And I’m anythin’ but. I just don’t wanna…”

Joel didn’t know what else to say.

He didn’t want you to leave. He didn’t want to spend another night apart from you. He didn’t want to push you away.

“Just don’t want you to be unhappy,” he finally murmured.

You let out something between a short chuckle and a stifled sob, and your fingers found Joel’s, still wrapped around his stomach.

“Do I look unhappy to you?” you asked, almost in disbelief. Joel finally willed himself to glance at you, if only to see for himself – which turned out to be a mistake. Your eyes were sad and teary, but not full of hurt or distaste like he feared, and you still had this faint smile on your face. He quickly turned his head away and you must’ve realized how you looked because your hold on his fingers tightened slightly. “Not right now. In general, did I ever do something to make you think I’m not happy with you?”

“No,” he answered quietly, not even having to think about it. “But it doesn’t…”

“I told you before, how can I even look at anyone else when I have you?” you spoke up when he faltered. “You’re beautiful to me, Joel, even if you don’t believe me right now. You’re amazing and kind, you’re fucking hot, and yeah, maybe you’re stubborn at times, but I love you so much, and every day I find another reason to fall for you all over again.”

Joel met your eyes again, looking for any hesitation or deceit – but he didn’t find any. As always, you were sincere in everything you said.

He realized, with another wave of tears threatening to roll down his cheeks, how much he missed your affection that he alone deprived himself from. How much he longed for this intimacy that once came so easily to him.

“M’sorry,” he muttered at last, lifting his hand to your face and trying to ignore those damn tears spilling from behind his eyelids. “Never doubted you, babygirl, but I just didn’t know how… how to tell you.”

“It’s okay, Joel,” you nuzzled your cheek into his palm, planting a kiss on the inside of his hand. “It’s alright, c’mon here.”

Not letting go of his hand, you tugged him gently and leaned back on the pillows. With great effort he refrained from fighting you, and instead let you pull him down, laying his head on your chest.

And in an instant, everything was alright again. The moment Joel heard your heartbeat under his ear and felt your gentle hands on the nape of his neck and his back… it was like coming home. This feeling of warmth spreading across his limbs made him feel safe for the first time in weeks.

It was so long since he fully let you hold him.

Maybe that’s what he’s been missing.

“I adore you, Joel Miller,” you whispered into the top of his head, holding him close to your heart. “All of you, and just the way you are.”

Joel couldn’t help it – a small smile crept onto his lips.

“Called it,” he murmured. “You’re gettin’ sappy.”

You snorted and kissed his hairline. “I think you need it, handsome.”

“Maybe I do,” he conceded, not moving his head from your chest, and sighed tiredly. “Dammit, missed holdin’ you like this, babygirl. M’so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you countered, but he continued.

“I just didn’t know how to talk about it… How to tell you that I feel bad. About… the way I look.”

Joel felt your hands on his cheeks, and although he really didn’t want to move from the position he was in, he let you lift his head.

“I love the way you look,” you said quietly, in a tone that made Joel’s old heart flutter. “And our bodies change, there’s nothing wrong with that. If anything, I’m really happy that both of us can enjoy this kind of life.” You leaned in and nudged Joel’s nose with yours, closing your eyes. “Every change of our bodies is a sign that we’re finally safe after all we’ve been through.

“But you look gorgeous as ever, sweet girl.”

“M’glad to hear it, Mr Miller,” you teased, but then your smile turned wistful. “But you know, I was insecure about my looks, too, not sure if you noticed. My stomach and thighs, and,” you rolled your eyes, “well, my butt.”

Normally Joel would throw a playful remark, or try to make you giggle, but this time he stayed silent. He just listened to your soft voice, drinking in your features.

“It worried me for some time. But you still put your hand on my leg when I was sitting with you, and you never shied away from telling and showing me,” you stressed this word, a teasing note in your tone, “how much you like my body.”

“‘Course I do,” he murmured quietly, lifting himself on his elbows and leaning over you despite your huffs and efforts to keep him in place.

“So I thought that maybe you didn’t care about this extra weight, or even didn’t–”

The rest of your words were swallowed by Joel’s lips when he kissed you deeply and hungrily. So many strong emotions were swirling inside his chest, he didn’t know anymore what to do with himself. At first you tried to continue your train of thought, but soon gave up, erupting into giggles when Joel latched his lips onto your neck and wrapped his arms around you in an attempt to bring you in even closer.

“I didn’t care,” he was whispering into your skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake. “I don’t.”

“Then you see– Joel, stop it!” You squealed when he carried on with his assault, not giving you a second to gather your thoughts.

“M’so lucky to have you,” he whispered while peppering your face in soft kisses. “Thank you, babygirl.”

You finally managed to free your arms, and you cupped his face in your hands with a huge grin that Joel decided he wanted to see every day. Another adorable giggle escaped you when he snuggled his scratchy cheek into your palm.

“I know it will take time,” you said gently, but firmly, looking deep into his eyes. “But no matter how long it’ll take, I will make you understand how incredibly attracted I am to you.” Joel hung his head low to hide a bashful snigger, and your smile grew. “Understand?”

“Yeah, yeah. Understood, ma’am.”

“Good.” You pulled him closer to plant a slow kiss on his lips, and asked seductively: “I can start right now, if you’d want to. I don’t want my handsome man to feel insecure about any part of him.”

God, he loved you so much.

Joel hid his face in the crook of your neck again, his heart squeezing with adoration and disbelief at how it came that he’d been blessed with someone like you.

“Y’know what, sweetheart? I think it’d do me good.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joel tlou #i will actually be taking a break because i have uni stuff to do which i REALLY neglected on behalf of this fic #i really got carried away with this one and the final scene took me so long to write omg #i really tried to approach this topic with respect and understanding and i very much hope it's alright #soft joel miller #joel miller fluff #the last of us fic

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realisticjupiter · 3 months

Note

haihaii!! your profile has been like.... THERAPY to me bc the aib fixation is back AND ITS STRONG ESPECIALLY TOWARDS CHISHIYA 💔💔💔 i love the way u write as well !!

so with this could i request a touch starved chishiya... like a chishiya that needs readers attention so bad but is too embarrassed to downright tell them "I WANT CUDDLES" or smth... still he does everything in his power to get readers attention atp the only thing left is to just BEG

also could i be 🎶 anon ? i picture myself being very active here from now on... have a nice day!!

Summary: Chishiya can't sleep without you.

Genre: Fluffy

Pairing: Chishiya x gn!reader

Warnings: None! :)

Word count: 784

a/n: Aghhhh i hope this is okay!!!!! That is actually so sweet of you, I'm so glad you've liked my account!!!<3 And ofc you can claim an emoji, hello 🎶!!

Chishiya tried everything to get you into bed with him. He tried seducing you, gaslighting you, and of course his manipulation tactics didn't work either.

All you were focused on was trying to fix the phone from last night's game. It was still on, so you thought it would be easier to get into before it powered off.

Every time he'd call your name, you'd brush him off. Mostly because he always used a certain tone of voice you've become far too familiar with when he tries to get what he wants.

All he wanted to do was kneel at your feet to tell you exactly what he wanted. To tell you he just wanted you to hold him, to tell you all he needed was your attention.

But he couldn't. He never has been able to ask for help, or ask for anything without feeling vulnerable for that matter. He was closed off, that's what people knew about him; that he didn't show those types of emotions in fear of being belittled.

Chishiya could feel his eyelids getting heavy and his eyes burning from keeping them open, but he knew no matter how hard he would toss and turn; he wouldn't be able to sleep without you.

It was pathetic, he'd admit that. It was a loop he found himself getting stuck into, and found there was no way out of it. He hid it pretty well, though. Through late nights where you'd fall asleep alone and wake up to him beside you. You truly had no idea he struggled so much.

He was so tired. He'd do anything if you'd just stop and sleep already.

And he found his last option, the one thing he dreaded the most.

"Y/n?" Chishiya whispered, his voice husky as he climbed out of bed and walked towards you with slow steps.

"What?" You hummed in response, never peeling your eyes away from the task at hand.

"Please," He spoke underneath his breath in an almost incoherent whisper as he stopped to stand beside the chair you sat in.

"I don't know what you want, Chishiya. No one is keeping you awake." You sighed, watching from the corner of your eye as he stood by your side, rubbing his eyes with his palms.

"You're keeping me awake." He murmured, watching your hands as they played around with the device's motherboard.

"How?" You said in defeat, finally turning your attention to him. You looked up at him with your hands thrown in your lap, clearly waiting for his response.

He let out a huff as he looked around the room; avoiding eye contact. When he finally looked at you, his eyes were soft and glassed over.

His next sentence was incoherent.

"What?"

[inaudible]

"Chishiya. Speak up, please." Your words were soft as you stood up from your seat, placing your hands on his upper arms.

"I can't sleep without you." He finally spoke, his words finally registering in your mind.

When he realized you had finally heard him, he felt like he could say anything. And with his new found confidence he continued to speak.

"Why is it so hard to ask you to touch me?" He breathed, letting his head fall onto your shoulder.

You smiled at his soft demeanour. You knew how hard it must've been for him to admit something so close to himself, especially since it was about you. You've found a new side of Chishiya you haven't seen before.

You brought a hand to comb through his hair as the other scratched up and down his bare back, "I'm sorry, Chishiya. I should've just read your mind." You whispered against his shoulder as you held him close to your body.

Your words were an obvious tease, trying to humor the situation at hand. Which did make Chishiya snicker.

"You should have. You've always been able to." He muttered, wrapping his arms lazily around you.

You smiled warmly as he spoke, pulling away to drag his hand towards the bed. You climbed in with him closely behind you. He waited for you to get comfortable, before he joined you under the covers to tangle his limbs with yours.

"I'm proud of you, Chishiya." Your sultry breath hit his forehead as you mumbled against his skin.

He stared down at the way your bodies fit together, processing your words with a smile he knew you couldn't see.

"Now go to sleep, 'm here." You spoke once more into his skin, kissing his forehead and massaging your fingers into his scalp.

His cold fingers danced around your bare skin, trying to bring himself impossibly closer to you before his body fell limp into a night's sleep.

reposts and comments are appreciated <3

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loliwrites · 7 months

Text

The One You Need | four

🎶 I spent most my life thinkin’ love was out of reach, so maybe just this once, you could be the one I need, if you let me be the one you need🎶

pairing: neighbor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: when you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at an arm’s length, your neighbor Joel finds his way into your life. warnings/tags: au, neighbor joel, age gap [reader is late 20s/early 30s, Joel is late 40s], hyper-independent reader, unannounced visitors, actual daddy issues, would-be suitor being forceful, perceived b&e, handgun [not used], SMUT, slight resistance kink, mild choking, fingering, oral [f receiving], slight degradation [one usage of whore] unprotected p in v sex, praise kink, aftercare, terms of endearment [sweetheart], THEY SHARE A BED, female reader, no physical description, protective!joel, soft!joel, dare i say ei!joel, no use of y/n. word count: 8.0k joel miller masterlist | part three a/n: we're doing the thing, y'all!

This was new for Joel. When you’d dodged him for nearly a month after he’d put your bed together, he just figured that was the action of a new neighbor from the west coast. He never figured you’d waltz your way back in with your faulty refrigerator. But this wasn’t that. This was post-sex when you all but fled his home. And for having told him one night stands weren’t your style, he thought you were doing a mighty fine job of making them your style.

It had been three days since that night and he hadn’t heard a peep. Not a check in, drive by, or walk through. It was as if your presence in the neighborhood had been a figment of his imagination. The only reason he knew it was real was because he was missing one of his shirts – the one you’d left in. And for three days hadn’t even done as much as slingshot it back to him or send by way of carrier pigeon. The amount of times in the past three days he thought he’d walk over and ask for, or demand, an explanation surpassed the amount of digits on his hands. But every time he talked himself out of it, telling himself all you needed was time.

But time only brought you one thing. A boy. In some automatic, foreign car. He rolled up the night of that third day and stepped out in a well-pressed black suit. Joel wasn’t spying, no… he just happened to mosey out to the porch and saw it all happening. He even witnessed you leave your house in a long red dress. Saw you descend the porch with this new boy, how he opened up the passenger door for you, and how you ducked into it. As that foreign car drove away, Joel turned and punched the post by his porch steps. The post was left unaffected. Joel’s hand, however, throbbed for the next three hours.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Staying out of Joel’s space had been intentional but the date had not been. This guy; he was a friend of a friend of a third cousin and he popped up out of nowhere. You hadn’t even really wanted to go out at all, let alone on some random date. But when you were shown a picture of the guy, he was… cute. He looked like the type of guy you normally let ruin your life, so ultimately you agreed. You hoped and prayed that Joel didn’t see you leave with this guy. And you spent the rest of the evening hoping and praying Joel would forgive you if he had. This wasn’t how you wanted it to go. The plan wasn’t to bed your neighbor and then leave him on the curb like trash. The plan wasn’t even to sleep with him, but given that you had, the rules to the game had changed so quickly.

And Chad… Brad… whatever the hell his name was, he was just… what you expected he’d be. He was attractive and he knew it, but he had nothing on Joel and he had no idea. He had blonde hair cut into a neat and tidy style but it had no story. Joel’s unkempt graying curls told you of his age and the unwillingness to burden his life with things as menial as primping himself. This guy had bright blue eyes, but they didn’t leave you searching their depths for the meaning of life like Joel’s had. Clean-shaven, baby-faced, uncalloused hands… There were any number of things that he was that Joel wasn’t, and staying present in the moment with him proved to be a challenge when you hadn’t even processed everything about Joel yet.

When the date finally ended, and you were escorted home, you peeked over at Joel’s house, wondering if you’d see him out on his porch, strumming his guitar. You hoped not. Please, on everything that is holy, don’t let him be out there. And when you couldn’t quite tell if he was or not, you decided to count your lucky stars and work with the assumption that benefited you most.

Chad… Brad… walked you up to your door and stood eerily close to you while your back was to him, unlocking it. Heat radiated off of him, and unlike the heat that came from Joel, you didn’t quite like how this one felt against you. Door unlocked but foregoing opening it just yet, you pivoted in a tight circle so as to not brush up against him as you faced him.

“I had a good time tonight, thank you,” you murmured, staring at his face to get a read on if he was going to lean in for a kiss you were going to have to dodge.

“Y’know, I didn’t get to see your place when I first got here,” he said as if that were a totally normal thing for him to have done. “Maybe you can give me a tour,” he reached around you and went for the handle.

You pushed against his arm with your hip before he could get his thumb on the latch, “maybe another time.”

“You’re gonna cut the night short?” he smirked and closed the practically imperceptible gap that was between you anyway.

Trying to back up, but running out of room as your back hit the door, “yeah, I’ve got an early morning.”

“What I want won’t take very long,” he leaned his hips forward, pressing them up against yours where it was oh so very clear he was sporting a semi. “C’mon, I bought you a fancy dinner, the least you could do is put out,” he still reached around you and pressed on the latch, nudging open your front door.

“Hey bud,”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Panic. Or was it relief? And managed to escape from Brad’s (or was it Chad?) hips, tugging your door shut again as you side-stepped away. He turned around and found Joel, climbing the porch steps coolly.

“I think you should leave,” Joel said, resting his hands on his hips. He even smiled at his suggestion.

“Who are you?” Your date asked and looked back in your direction as if he’d be able to grab you again, but you’d already moved to the side.

Joel flicked his eyes at you as if inspecting to see if any hurt had been done, then looked back at the would-be suitor. “Doesn’t matter, I think it’s time you got outta here,”

“Dude, she was just inviting me in,”

“Dude, no she wasn’t. I don’t wanna have to call the cops, just get goin’,”

Your date chuckled incredulously. He turned to you with what looked like mild fury in his eyes, “your pussy’s not worth all this.”

You nodded in agreement, “it definitely is not.”

Joel waited until he was gone – watched him all the way to his car, and until it took off down the street, before he looked back at you. You’d already made it back to your front door and were backing into it, leaning against the frame.

“Thanks,”

He nodded once and turned. Then over his shoulder, “your pussy is worth it.”

You laughed and shook your head, “thanks!”

Back, safe and sound in your house, you locked the front door right away and carried on through the rooms, first into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, then back toward your bedroom. There was a brief thought about how Joel must’ve been outside when you’d arrived back home, and now there were new lucky stars to thank. But that thought was pushed aside when you glanced into the den as you passed it and it made your heart stop. It was the only room left to be unpacked. You’d eventually use it as an office, but right now it was just a handful of cardboard boxes and pictures that hadn’t been hung yet. But the mess wasn’t what gave you pause. It was that it was the room with your back door, and that door was currently wide open.

You ran back through the house, set your glass of water on something, and bolted back through the front door. “Joel! Joel!”

He was gathering his things from the porch, getting ready to go inside when he’d heard your panicked calls and immediately ran off his porch and toward you, meeting in the middle of the street.

“There’s– my door– open–” you took a deep breath just to fill your lungs with substantial air. “I think someone broke in,”

In the same instant, Joel reached behind his back and pulled a handgun out of his waistband. He side-stepped you and went toward your house, knowing you’d be right behind him.

“You had that on you the whole time?!” He didn’t answer. Just kept laser focus on your house. “Were you gonna shoot him?”

“Maybe,”

“Joel!”

Finally, he turned toward you, and even in the darkness you could tell the glare he shot you was something icy. “‘M’gonna need you to be real quiet when we go through your house, okay?” He waited for you to nod, obediently. “Stay right behind me. Hand in my pocket or finger in my belt loop, got it?”

You nodded again, and when he turned around you tucked your fingertips into the back pocket of his jeans. Even as he began to walk and approach your home, you stuck close, feet falling in rhythm with his to practically meld yourself to his body. He held the handgun poised in front of him in both hands, only lowering one to push your door open. With a clear line of vision inside, he paused and listened before carrying on inside. All of his movements, searching and clearing each room, were deliberate and methodical. He took his time. Reaching around your back to hold you close to him when he needed to turn or pivot, making sure you remained fully behind him at all times.

Without searching every room, he made his way back to your bedroom. No one was standing there, or hiding under the bed, and with the closet being the only other place to hide in the room, it was one of the easier one’s to search. The closet, he soon came to learn, wasn’t a viable hiding place as it was still only partially unpacked, stacks of luggage and boxes obscuring the floor. He shut your bedroom door and lifted your hand out of his pocket.

“I’m gonna search the rest of the house. Stay here and lock the door,”

“Joel, what if–”

He held up his hand and shook his head, “don’t worry about it. Lock the door. Don’t open it until I get back.”

That was it before he went back out. You ran up and locked it behind him, then quickly backed away, to your bed, nervous as all hell, and fighting every urge your body had to break out in a sob. It seemed to take forever. His absence made the worry inside you grow. If only he’d just come back. You’d say or do whatever he wanted to make things better again. To not have him shooting daggers your way. To just live as harmoniously as you needed to, to not make the neighborhood unbearable. You’d become a hermit and never see another man in all your life if that’s what it took. Not that that didn’t seem like a great option at this point.

Three gentle knocks on your door, “it’s me. You can open up,”

You ran to it and turned the knob, the lock clicked back on itself, and you came face to face with Joel once again, finding him completely unharmed. He tucked the handgun back into his waistband, “we had some strong winds earlier. Might’ve blown the back door open. Did you have it locked?”

Thinking back, you couldn’t be sure. You’d been in and out of it so frequently, throwing things in the trash that the likelihood of it having been left unsecure was relatively high. Shrugging, you looked up at him with timid eyes, hoping to find a little bit of comfort there. But they were still cold, thwarting off any advance you might be making for warmth.

“Well, the latch is busted now so you’ll have to get someone in here to fix it,”

“You can’t fix it?”

He tilted his head to the side. After what you’d put him through in the last few days, he was surprised you even asked that at all. You were the one who apparently didn’t want him around. That is, until you needed him for something. “You ignore me for three days after we sleep together and are only talking to me because you need me to do you a favor,”

“Joel,”

“I’m not some fuckin’ toy you get to play with whenever it’s convenient for you,”

“You scare me!”

“Why?!”

The argument had gotten loud and you hadn’t wanted it to. That was too much like home. You just wanted peace and quiet. But even if your surroundings could be, your brain never was. And it hadn’t been for the last three days. It had been loud and persistent. “Because what if this keeps going?! Whatever this is, it keeps going. We keep fucking. And you keep fixing things. And suddenly we’re staying the night at each other’s places sporadically. And then I’m meeting your daughter. And your brother. And you’re learning about all my fucked up stuff. And we keep doing this thing for however long. And then we give it a label. And we’re a couple. And it just keeps going.”

Having grown baffled at the road your brain had traveled down, Joel furrowed his eyebrows and studied you. He folded his arms over his chest, and only when you’d stopped talking did he offer any response, “so?”

All that and a one word answer? You could’ve slapped him silly. “What if we never break up?”

He laughed and rolled his eyes, “sweetheart, I don’t think that’d be an issue. You seem difficult,”

You shoved your hands against his chest as he continued to laugh. “I mean it! And then I’m like… dependent,” you nearly gagged at the word, “on you like some sad, servant housewife that’s just waiting in her window for her husband to get home so she can fix his meals and wash his clothes.”

He let out a breath that almost sounded like another laugh, “you’re fuckin’ insane, you know that?” Swinging at his chest again, he caught your wrists this time and held them against him tightly. “First of all, a wife’s not a servant. Second, I wouldn’t want you to cook for me anyways. Campbell’s soup in a can for the past week! And lastly, if we never broke up – which I assure you we would because you’re nutty – then you’d be the person I get to come home to and fall into your arms, and relax with! And I’d take the trash out to the bins, and pick the flowers in the yard for you, and pull your fuckin’ hair out of the shower drain when it clogs. And yeah, you might do my laundry every now and again, but we’d do it because we’d love each other. Your shit would be my shit, and there’s nothin’ I wouldn’t do for you.”

You stood, mouth agape, not blinking, staring up at Joel. He let go of your wrists and all but pushed them away, but you were back on him in a second. Hands replaced on his chest, this time with the utmost care, fingers curling into the fabric of his cotton t-shirt.

“I’m not trying to take your independence away. Not tryin’ to trap you. Hell, we don’t have to call this anything, just don’t ignore me.” He only stared, as if allowing himself to live in the feeling of your hands on him, pressing down on his chest but really into his soul. “If you want a man and not a boy, you got one, but it requires you to be a woman and not some scared, little girl.”

“I can be,” you assured, eyes dropping down to where your hands lay on his chest. Then once looking back into his eyes, your hands drifted further south, blazing a trail over the fabric of his shirt until you felt the rough denim of his jeans.

“Y’know,” he smirked almost devilishly, as if daring you to continue on, “you’re just a dog with a loud bark, but you got no bite.”

“Did you just call me a dog?” You grinned back, playfully squinting your eyes.

“No bite at all. You just fold and turn over on your back like a pup,”

“I got bite,”

Joel’s eyebrow quirked but his eyes didn’t waver from yours. Not even when you lowered a hand to his crotch and gave it a squeeze. He gave you no reaction, just tilted his head to the side as if he was waiting for you to amuse him.

And it got your mind spinning. What did bite look like? What did he think that meant? That you’d get on your knees and give him the sloppiest head this side of the Mississippi? Because to you, bite looked like everything you’d ever been to him. It looked like stubbornness or as he liked to call it brattiness. Last time, he’d fucked it out of you. A tried and true method. But if he wanted ‘bite’, he’d get it. Your way, on your terms.

So you swiftly undid his jeans, making quick work of the button and zipper as if they were only the slightest of inconveniences, and slipped your hand into his pants, giving him another generous and firm squeeze. By the looks of it, he was the one that nearly folded. But something else kept him preoccupied. It was then you remembered the handgun he’d tucked so haphazardly in his jeans. He reached around his back for it as you’d created a less secure space for it. And though it gave you pause as he pulled it out and glanced down at it to ensure the safety was on, it didn’t deter you completely from continuing. You removed your hand from his pants and pushed against his chest, sending you both in opposite directions. With the growing distance as you rounded to the side of your bed and a premature feeling that you’d somehow won, a smile passed over your lips. It was there and gone in a matter of milliseconds. No sooner than you’d felt it stretch across your face, Joel had closed the gap between you, lifted his free hand to your throat and with a firm hold on it, pushed you backwards. It wasn’t until you’d run out of real estate, pressed up against your closet door, that he stood over you with an almost playful glare like a cat who’d caught a mouse to toy with. He bent over and set the handgun down on the bedside table, then returned his complete focus to you. Fingers applied the softest of extra pressure to the sides of your neck and catching your gentle nod, he pressed them into a tighter squeeze.

Annoyance emanated from you – for you – that you liked it so much. That you enjoyed him having control over you, and effectively taking yours away. You hated that you wanted to give him control, when in every other aspect of life, you clung to it like a life raft in the ocean. Maybe thinking that that was all you had, there was no other fight or bite left, Joel’s fingers loosened from around your neck. And as though you hadn’t quite learned the lesson yet, thought you’d gained back some of the control, grunted and pushed on his chest again with all your might. It only sent him backward one step, and he retaliated with a searing grip on your wrist with one hand, and the return of his other hand to your neck for a cautious squeeze as his hips lowered to yours, effectively pinning you motionless.

“That was cute,”

You wriggled beneath him, trying to break free, but quickly found it pointless. His weight kept you where he wanted you and his hand on your neck was the decision-maker now. You let out a sigh of surrender, body fully collapsing and giving up beneath him.

Joel felt the fight leave your body and released your neck and wrist at the same time. With his hips still buried into yours, and now absently rubbing against you, he ducked his head to the side and planted a series of soft kisses to your neck where his fingers had just been.

“You just wanna be a good girl, don’tcha?” He could feel your pulse quicken against his lips on your neck. The only response he got came in the form of a needy whine and he set his hands on the closet door at either side of your head. “You don’t want to have to bite, huh?” He was almost goading you now, grinding his growing length against your waist. “Just looking for a bigger, badder dog to lead the way for you,”

You weren’t sure why, because except for in a sexual sense, it wasn’t necessarily true, but you nodded anyway. He could have control here. You liked not having it here if it meant you got to retain it in other aspects of life. At your acceptance, he laid a kiss on you. As good of a kiss as he’d ever given you; made sweeter by that fact that you’d made sure you’d gone without it for the last few days. Just as a headrush began, he pulled away, and it had you leaning forward as much as you could to try and get his lips back.

“I want you to get undressed and lay down on your back for me.” He thought you’d get going, but he was confronted with a pout instead. Smacking the side of your hip, “get going or I’ll put those lips to better use,”

“Is that a threat?” You smirked, reaching behind your back for the zipper on your dress.

“‘S’a promise,”

You couldn’t even really relish and appreciate his promise as at this point you remembered the trial in gymnastics it took to zip up your dress in the first place. It started far too low on your back and ended far too high to be accessible for a single human to do on their own, and at one point, you’d seriously considered just letting your date into your house without dinner just so you could stay naked and save the trouble. In hindsight – small blessings that you’d managed to get it zipped up.

“Help,” you murmured to Joel and spun around in the same moment, pressing your ass back against his crotch. Setting your hands on the closet door for more leverage to rut against him, you pressed harder, feeling the form of his growing length against your backside.

Joel didn’t waste too much time in helping you, opting to tug the zipper down in one quick fell swoop instead of taking his time with it. But as soon as your back was exposed to him, he snaked his arms around your torso and pressed one large, strong palm over your belly while the other found your clit. He cupped your sex and gently bit down on the back of your shoulder. Then as if he remembered what he’d previously been doing, he removed his hands from you and tapped your ass.

“G’on, lay down,”

You obeyed him and delicately let your dress fall from your shoulders and to the floor. He was pleased to see you already without a bra, and by the time you turned and laid back on your bed, Joel was at the latter part of pulling his t-shirt over his head and throwing it to the floor with your dress. He descended upon you as you’d moved up to rest your head on the pillows. But that wasn’t in his plans yet. He grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you down along the duvet until your legs hung over the end of the bed.

“Joel,” you gasped, finding yourself immediately repositioned. He hadn’t even bothered with a kiss to your lips or a check in, but opted for migrating straight to your breasts.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he kneaded your soft flesh in his hands and knelt to the floor at the end of your bed.

You heard his knees click on the way down, and truly wanted to say something about it this time – maybe that it was time for a couple knee replacements – but found yourself cut off again when he gripped onto the thin line of your g-string and began to pull it away from your center. “Joel, wait…”

And to his credit, being face to face with your wet slit and already sporting a hard on, his fingers stilled immediately. Quit their pursuit of ridding you from the underwear that was barely there anyway, and opted for bending in to kiss the inside of your thigh.

“I don’t think…” your voice trailed off as he sucked on your inner thigh, surely leaving a mark. Then steadfastly, kissed the skin again.

“I like you like this,” he murmured against your thigh before moving an inch higher and kissing that fresh skin. “Soft,”

A whimper died in your throat, only barely emitting soundwaves into the space between you. But your gaze remained locked on him for any sudden movements.

“I got you, you know that, right?” He kissed your opposite thigh when you nodded. “You can be soft, and small; I got you,” he smiled when you nodded again. “Can I take this off?” his fingers toyed with your g-string again, “can I taste you? And give you a couple brain-melting orgasms,”

“Where’s that horn,” you giggled and looked around the room as if searching for it, finding it bought you some time and distance from having to look directly in his soul-piercing eyes. But he grazed his teeth against your inner thigh again like a horse chomping at the bit, and that got you locked on him again. “You can try. A little bit,”

His hands got back to immediate work and carefully slid the miniscule fabric past the curve of your ass, down from your core, trying not to get lost in the way a bit of your arousal connected you to the fabric for a second longer until he pulled it further away, down your thighs, past your calves, and finally, off completely. He lifted your legs, set them atop his shoulders, positioning himself right in the center of where he yearned to be, and kissed your inner thigh again, this time higher than he’d previously been. His hands found their way to your hips, fingers digging into the flesh as he worked you into a more comfortable state before lips would meet your slit.

Nerves bubbling up to the surface, realizing you’d have a helluva time trying to dissociate from this, you reached down and clawed at the back of one of his hands. He flicked his eyes up to you in time to adjust, releasing your hip and allowing you to take his hand in yours. He moaned against your skin as he moved higher, now to where your leg and hip met, and laced his fingers with yours. You squeezed his hand and he took it as approval for the next step. Of laying a wet kiss on your clit. Thighs briefly squeezed closer to his head, releasing just in time as he licked a broad stripe from your entrance up to your clit.

A high-pitched groan fell past your lips and he shook his head against you when his mouth made contact with your clit again. He hummed too, sounding beyond elated with his current position. A noise you hadn’t ever quite heard with such enthusiasm. As if everyone in the past had been doing it cursorily instead of out of sheer desire.

Joel flicked his tongue over your clit repeatedly, then lowered his mouth to your entrance and rimmed the tight opening. The feeling of you squirming beneath him was all he needed by way of encouragement. He guided your hand up to his head, not completely satisfied until you released his hand and grabbed hold of his hair. Only then did he move his hand up over your belly and pressing his palm flat against it to hold you still, while his other hand moved from your hip and hooked around your thigh.

“J-Joel… please,” you breathed out, lifting your head to look down at him. But his eyes were closed, getting lost in his ministrations that were unending. You let your head drop back to the bed, “oh my god, please.”

In the past, there had been a worry about the amount of time it took, or how long a boy would be willing to go to get you there. Now, you weren’t quite sure what time was. Or how much had passed. Maybe it had been only a few minutes, maybe it had been fifteen. But your eyes snapped open and made contact with your bedroom ceiling because Joel pressed his middle and ring fingers against your soaked entrance. “Joel,” you whimpered again.

For the first time since he’d begun, he pulled his mouth off you, though his eyes remained on his fingers for the time being, “I got you, girl. Bein’ such a good girl for me,” as he knew it would, your body reacted to his praise. Relaxed. And he slowly urged his fingers inside you, gaze now flicking upward to watch your expression. Jaw slack and eyes rolling back until they shut, he evenly pulled his fingers in and out of you. “Look at you, sweetheart. Like my fingers inside you?”

You nodded emphatically, choking out a sound with a throat that had run dry.

“This pussy’s so good,” he leaned back in and licked your entrance where it met his fingers and continued up to your clit, “tastes so fuckin’ good.”

Thighs closed around his head, muscles twitching and spasming on their own volition. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop,”

He smiled against you, softly sucking your clit into his mouth and rolling his tongue flat against it. The mewls it drew from your lips sounded like the sweetest song he’d ever heard. You didn’t need to tell him not to stop. He’d keep doing whatever it was that got that sound to come out of you.

Joel moaned against you and it sent a vibration up through you that was the last thing you really needed to get you to your first orgasm of the night. It had been on a nonstop incline since he’d started, and the release was just there at the edge. You were sure Joel could tell. His fingers moved more hastily, his mouth and tongue not ceasing for even a second. But then – your brain entered the picture. Took center stage. Reminded you that some man was in between your legs, his mouth performing pure magic… and though your orgasm still neared, your brain fought for distance.

Your hand had been nestled snugly in his hair, holding him against you, begging him to stay put. But now you were using it to push back on his head. Your release was there, centimeters away, and you desperately pressed against his head, trying to pry him off of you. “Joel, no, please. Stop,”

He pulled his mouth away, though his fingers remained pumping inside of you, and with a growl, he leaned forward and moved his free hand up to your neck, getting a soft grip on either side of it. “Come on, right here,” he curled his fingers inside you, “come all over my fingers.”

But you only whined and writhed beneath him, now frustrated that you’d pushed away his mouth – the very thing that had been getting you to your climax.

“Got you moanin’ like a whore with my mouth… Push me away…” He shook his hand with his fingers deep inside you, rocking the entire lower half of your body, “c’mon, give it to me.”

The hold he had on your neck tightened and without his mouth, that had been your undoing. You came with a scream, back arching off the bed, chest spasming. Joel removed his fingers from you before you’d ridden out the entirety of your climax, and slapped his hand down on your clit at the tail end of it. You whined a little louder when that sent rippling shock waves through your body. Chest heaving, your sex, already red and swollen, Joel still got up from his knees and leaned over your body for a kiss. You could still taste a hint of yourself on his tongue and it made you want to ravage him more.

“Want you to fuck me,” you begged against his lips, pushing his underwear down past his waist. At some point while he was on his knees, he’d pushed his jeans down and had been able to step out of them when he stood back up. However it happened, you didn’t care, as long as it got him inside of you sooner.

Joel smiled against your lips and tapped your hip as he stood back up and rid himself of his underwear. “Turn over,” he ordered as he stroked himself, smearing the precum that leaked from his tip down along the length of his shaft.

Instantaneous obedience rushed over you and you clumsily turned over to your stomach and got up on your hands and knees. Joel’s hand returned to your skin soon thereafter. Fingers splayed over your ass cheek, digging into the supple flesh. It was the gentlest of the actions you’d feel over the next few minutes. Just enough time to relish in the expanse of his hand before he was using his other hand to guide his length to you, sliding his member over your wetness and then finally pushing himself inside of you.

The air evacuated your lungs with the feeling of him sinking into you. Relentlessly. Until he’d worked himself balls deep, nestled tight in your core. A throbbing overtook the lower half of your body and you allowed yourself to collapse, chest and head now resting on the bed while your backside remained up for Joel to use. And that he did. The thrusts you remembered from the first time together had felt deep, and were, no doubt. But they paled in comparison to the feeling of this, of his length actually splitting you in half, like an axe to a piece of wood. You released a long, lingering cry that changed into a breathy moan when his thrusts picked up, nothing but the sounds of your shared labored breaths and skin slapping together.

“Shit,” Joel groaned, gripping onto your hips with a bone-crushing hold. His hips faltered for just a second.

If you hadn’t been paying such rapt attention to the feeling of each inch inside you, you likely wouldn’t have noticed the stutter of his movement for the slightest of seconds. But it was impossible to ignore how he felt inside you. A fullness you sure was indescribable – at least indescribable by any sense that would do it justice. And a heaviness that was all-encompassing. It seemed to seep into every cell, weighing you down in the most delicious of ways. On shaky arms that seemed unlikely to be able to bear any weight, you pressed up from the bed to return to your hands and knees.

But no sooner than you’d risen, a hand left your hip and migrated to the center of your upper back, pushing you back down until your chest was flush with the mattress again. “Stay like this,” his jaw dropped open when you squeezed around his shaft, and he very nearly doubled over. “Just like this,”

“Joel, I can’t–”

As though he was a mind reader, he slid his hand down your back and enveloped it around your hips; the pads of his fingers making contact with your clit again. Your body went soft for him again, malleable to whatever course of action was to come next.

“Yes. God yes,” you pleaded like God was in the room with you in the form of Joel.

“Feel fuckin’ incredible,” he moaned and offered a particularly hard thrust. One that had caught you off guard, and your knees slipped, sending your stomach down to the bed as well.

He managed to follow you down, keeping himself sheathed deep inside you, and with hand still curled around you, kept you lifted enough for his fingers to continue massaging your clit in small, quick circles. Now with only your ass left above the rest of your body, he straddled your legs and scooted himself up closer. His thrusts now deep but short, you let out a shriek and curled your fists in your sheets.

“Takin’ this cock like a champ,” he bared his teeth into his bottom lip with a thrust that had his tip pressing against the opening to your cervix. You whimpered again, which only made him smile. “Yeah, you like that? Tell me about it,”

“Love it,” you panted. Legs pressed together, feeling fuller than ever with his hands on your clit, coil in your stomach was winding up. Tighter and tighter, and you knew it was only a matter of moments before you’d snap. “Fuckin’ love your cock, Joel,”

Just expressing the sentiment made you throb, and you knew he felt it. Knew it when he replaced the circling of your clit with a couple quick taps to it which made your body jerk. He smiled again and reset his hands on your hips, using them for all the leverage he needed for what would end up being the last of what you’d be able to take.

“Joel,” you cried and unwound a hand from the sheets to reach back for his hand on your hip. You curled it around two of his fingers, “I’m gonna…”

“Yeah, you are. Gonna be a good girl and come all over this cock?” He groaned after your body responded to his praise, “let me have it, sweetheart.”

You felt his hips falter again and thought if you could just hold out for a while longer, you’d both hit the peak together. So you stiffened your body, and tried to stave off the snapping of the spring inside you. Tried to blur out the pleasure for sheer focus. But all that did was send a shot of discomfort through you which settled in your chest and your body purged it with an animalistic growl.

Joel pressed his hands to the bed on either side of you and rested himself against your back, cautious to not lay all of his weight on you. He bit into your neck, “don’t wait for me. Go on, I’ll be right behind you,” his jaw slackened when your muscles clenched around him, sucking him in deeper and milking his length.

“Promise?” you squeaked out, the beginning of your orgasm gearing up deep in your stomach.

He smiled against your neck and nodded, “yeah, I promise. C’mon, sweetheart.”

It didn’t take too much more coaxing than that. One more thrust and you unraveled beneath him. Body trembling involuntarily with an endless string of moans filling the room. He grunted behind you and pulled out before you’d even finished. Stroked himself just a couple times before his own muscles flexed and released, releasing his come over your lower back and ass. You turned your head to the side when the feeling of his come hitting you finished, and smiled breathlessly at the sight of him giving his length a couple more tugs. He let go of his member and let it rest along your ass, taking deep breaths to steady himself.

Joel leaned down, his cock sliding to your lower back. He nestled his nose against your cheek and kissed your jaw, “you’re a good girl, huh?”

You grinned, cheeks growing hotter, and lifted your hands up behind you to tangle them in his hair.

“Yeah, you are,” he pecked your cheek once more then pushed himself off you. “I’ll be back, lemme clean you up.” He only waited for you to nod before he was off.

Left alone in your room, you leaned up on your elbows and looked around. It was pretty sparse and impersonal, like the rest of your house still. Nothing like Joel’s. In his house, everything screamed him. It was lived in, worn. The things that were out of place had been so for so long that their lack of a place became their place. He’d spent years making it a home while you were still just in a house. You wondered what it would take for your house to become that. Time? Maybe a dog? Or worst case scenario – a man?

Joel re-entered your room, towel in hand, and crawled back on the bed to you. He gently wiped away his spend until your skin was clean again. “Couldn’t find a washcloth,”

After he threw the towel to the floor by your bed, you rolled over onto your back, “don’t have ‘em. Got these,” you lifted her hands and waved them about.

He scrunched his nose and you swatted at his chest as he laid down beside you. With a hand holding yours against his chest, he maneuvered his other arm around you, behind your neck and shoulders, and pulled you into him. You rest your head down on his collarbone and focused on your fingers, running them along his tanned skin leaving invisible doodles in their wake. If you could just stay here like this, in the post-sex afterglow, you could almost convince yourself that the closeness wasn’t freaking you out. It was a lot so quickly. A far cry from your status quo.

“Can you stay tonight,” you asked in the same moment Joel kissed the top of your head. And because he didn’t answer right away, you felt the need to justify yourself. “If it wasn’t the wind and someone did bre–”

“I’ll stay,” he shook you reassuringly, “‘cause you’re nicer to cuddle up against than my old pillows,”

You wrapped your arm around him tighter, “this doesn’t mean anything.”

“Of course not.” For just a moment, he let his fingertips dance over the skin at your bare hip, smiling to himself at the goosebumps that erupted across it. Then he tapped your hip, “you should go to the bathroom,”

Ah, yes. Your delicate pH balance. Apparently it was on Joel’s mind more than it was on yours. You willed yourself out of bed and carried on into the bathroom, whereupon looking at yourself in the mirror, it was impossible to ignore the seemingly permanent smile on your face. You tried to get rid of it; tried to turn your lips into a straight line, but it wouldn’t leave. It was there. Etched deep and sure. And you knew it had very little to do with the fact that you were in your own home, a thousand miles away from family drama, and very much to do with the man waiting for you in bed.

If you from two months ago could see you now, you were sure there wouldn’t have been the slightest chance of recognition. While to most, and maybe even to Joel, a change had scarcely happened, you saw the leaps and bounds of apparent progress. Two months ago, you’d closed on the house and had swore off boys altogether. Like a form of housekeeping, you swept those ideas into a dustpan and deposited them in the garbage. Boys were superfluous. Intimate relationships were superfluous. A couple lousy boyfriends had taught you that, but they hadn’t been horribly awful people. They’d just been boys. Perhaps the worst of it was that your father had taught you that. Taught you that the man who was supposed to love you unconditionally, couldn’t, or just flat out didn’t. Taught you that romantic relationships looked like prison sentences. That a man would never be able to evolve and understand his own emotional range, let alone yours. And worst of all, that despite being obviously unhappy with everything, that he’d never leave, never let you leave; and instead hold you hostage in a relationship that everyone could see had failed, but he refused to admit for the sake of his own delicate ego.

You grinned, thinking about how the only delicate thing about you was your pH balance.

“Y’alright?” Joel asked as you re-entered your bedroom.

You figured you’d looked pretty spaced out upon returning. Not entirely sure how you’d made it back there from the bathroom. Still, you pressed a smile and crawled back into bed, immediately curling up into his side. Back in only his underwear, his skin against yours gave off tremendous heat and for the first time (perhaps in life), you really found yourself hoping that Joel was all the things he said he was, and that it wasn’t just performative.

“What’s this?” He held out a lone bolt in his fingers.

You tilted your head back from where it rested against his chest, “where’d you get that?”

“Side table,”

“You’re snooping in my stuff?”

“Yeah,” he nodded and jiggled the bolt in his hand again. “Where’d this come from?”

You shrugged and lowered your head, rubbing your cheek against his bare chest to get comfortable again. “Found it when I was Swifferin’ beneath my oven,”

The bolt stopped moving in Joel’s fingers and you peeked back up to find him stunned. “‘S’truly amazing your house hasn’t exploded yet,”

“What?” you whined, “it works and it’s not like I smell gas. It was probably an extra part,”

“Since when do ovens come with parts you don’t need?”

“Joel,” you whined again and wrapped your arm around his belly, holding him close.

He leaned over and set the bolt back down on the side table. He’d fix that tomorrow. Along with your back door. And maybe give everything else in your house a once over to make sure you wouldn’t combust.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Sun rays filtered in between the slits in your blinds and you cursed yourself (yet again) for not having invested in black out curtains. One of these days you would and maybe then you’d get a restful night of sleep. With a groan and an aching in your hips, you turned onto your back and looked to the side where Joel was still asleep, his back to you. Generally, sharing a bed with someone resulted in you having the worst night of sleep known to man. It was as if your brain could never really settle knowing someone was beside you. And while you had slept some last night, you couldn’t wait for Joel to not be in your bed the following night.

After having slid out of bed, successful in not rousing him, you padded down the hallway to the kitchen and squinted out the front window where the neighborhood was slowly coming to life. A couple kids were riding their bikes in the street. Mr. Cole was hobbling down his driveway to pick up the newspaper. Your routine was coffee first and after a night like last, where your hips weren’t the only thing sore, but your thighs and core, too, coffee was supremely necessary.

The slowness of the act was almost meditative. You could turn off your brain. Grab the filter, scoop the coffee grounds, add the water, hit the button. At least on a normal day. What you didn’t know at that moment, but came to know halfway pouring the water, today was not to be a normal day. Not at all. Because a knock on your front door had you spilling some of the water down the side of the machine instead of within the well.

You turned, confused, and then were riled into action when the knock happened again, this time more insistent. Perhaps one day you’d learn to look through the window first, or install a door with a peephole, but on this day, you simply tugged the front door open and felt your heart drop into your stomach.

“Mom? Dad?”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller au #joel miller fluff #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #ppcu #ppcu fanfiction

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cillianmesoftlyyy · 3 months

Text

Sweet Revenge | Tom (The Party) x fem!reader

Summary: Tom is acting strange and it doesn't take long for a friend to notice while at a party celebrating their mutual friend's political victory. When she steps in to question him about it, she learns more than she thought she would... but it makes their ride in the elevator a little more interesting.

Warnings: Infidelity (from multiple characters), drug use, dubious consent, semi-public sex, smut, p in v, guns, mentions of attempted murder, revenge.

word count: 3386k

Nothing Matters- The Last Dinner Party 🎶

Personal Jesus- Depeche Mode 🎵

Note: Sorry I disappeared for so long! I was dealing with some things and had to put Cillian to the side. I've missed this awesome community! I hope you all still remember me lol.

Please read warnings before continuing, thanks!

She heard about the election on the news that afternoon. Saying that she was ecstatic was an understatement. In fact, the moment she heard that Janet won (as she assumed she would) she dressed quickly and arrived at the celebratory party early. She fixed the bunched up fabric on her thigh and scratched an itch beneath the collar around her neck. She raised her fist to knock on the door when the elevator doors pinged and she turned. Tom stumbled out of the elevator, slightly disheveled and sweaty. When he noticed her he ran his hand through his hair and sniffed loudly, his eyes rolling over to meet hers.

“Tom?” She smiled, her tone friendly and soft. Her eyes traveled up his body, dressed in a dark tailored suit.

Tom cleared his throat before responding, strangely breathless. “Hello.” He looked behind him at the empty elevator and debated going back inside. The doors slid closed and he turned back dejectedly like a child caught in a crime.

“You’re here early too,” she rubbed the top of her shoe down her leg, an anxious gesture.

“Right, right… it's early. Maybe I should come back later.” He muttered beneath his breath and jabbed at the elevator call button.

“I’m sure it's alright. I’m here early too,” she studied his nervous posture and the way his eyes darted between the hallway’s walls, anywhere but her face. “Where’s Marianne?”

His face twitched at the mention of his wife’s name. His shirt was sticky against his skin and he wanted to leave. This was a mistake.

“She’s coming later, told me to go ahead.” He sniffed loudly again and jerked his finger at the door behind her. “Have you already knocked?” His dark hair fell into his eyes where crow’s feet gathered.

“No, I was just about to.”

The elevator door opened with a second ping. Tom looked at the open doors and back to her. “Fuck all,” he cursed beneath his breath and met her at the door to Janet’s apartment. She resisted the urge to smell him, though his cologne wandered easily the short distance to her nose (notes of bergamot and spice).

“Are you alright, Tom?” She asked cautiously and watched as his left hand flexed. He clenched his jaw and forced out a laugh.

“Never better,” he rang the doorbell and waited anxiously as his heart raced in his chest. Janet opened the door and greeted them with overwhelming excitement. Tom’s resolve weakened and he struggled to remain level headed as he greeted his wife’s friend. This was not how it was originally supposed to go but he still had time…

Janet invited them into the apartment and talked with her as Tom excused himself with a shaky smile. As soon as the door was closed behind him, he removed his jacket and checked the holsters on either side of his body, draped over his shoulders. Sweat pooled on his shirt and he fanned his hands over it, hoping it would dry.

The girl watched the bathroom door while keeping a polite smile on her face for Janet who was retelling the events of the day. Loud music erupted from the speakers in the living room and she jumped, her hair standing on end for a brief moment.

“That’s Bill, will you excuse me for a moment?” Janet wiped her hands on the front of her apron and disappeared into the next room. Her conversation with her husband was muffled by the music. She looked once again at the bathroom door and wiped her clammy hands on her forearms. There was something different about Tom and it irked her, not knowing what was going on. She was closest in age to Tom and Marianne and considered them her friends, though she didn’t actually know them well. She knew, however, that Tom had a problem with coke, all of the finance boys did. His attitude was stranger than usual, more paranoid and jumpy. The music quieted and Janet returned, humming happily to herself. As soon as she did, the doorbell rang and she spun around, clapping her hands excitedly.

Tom splashed his face with cold water and let it run down his neck, far below his collar. He shivered beneath the water’s temperature and looked up into the medicine cabinet’s mirror. He imagined Bill in the next room, smugly splayed out in his old recliner. He imagined how good it would feel to shoot him, to get revenge against the man that defiled his wife. His wife. Anger flashed in his eyes and he bit down on the sleeve of his suit jacket, screaming silently into the fabric. He heard the doorbell ring and jumped, his heart dropped painfully into his stomach. He checked the gun in his holster for the fiftieth time that day, counting the round of bullets in the chamber. He waited until the new guests moved further into the apartment before leaving the bathroom.

The girl watched Tom leave the bathroom and pause just before the door frame into the living room. His stomach quivered beneath his dress shirt as he breathed heavily. When she noticed him spin his wedding around his finger in an anxious instinct, she averted her eyes and flushed. He spun right around and went back into the bathroom. She followed him with her eyes, brows furrowed in extreme distress.

Tom closed the door again and rubbed his face with his shaking hands. He rummaged through his pockets and retrieved a vial of white powder (coke… obvi). Yes, he had a problem. Obviously. Tom wiped the edge of the sink clean with his elbow and shook powder from the vial onto the surface. He arranged the powder in a line and did the line, shaking his head and sitting back against the rim of the bathtub. A smudge of powder stayed on his upper lip, providing evidence of what he’d done. He knocked his knuckles against the soft sides of his head and tried to regain control. He just needed to act normal, go into the living room and be fucking normal. He wiped away the traces of coke on the sink and fixed his hair in the mirror, trying to slick the greased strands back over his head.

The girl twirled the cord of her necklace around her finger, her eyes stuck on the bathroom door. She jumped again when the door slammed open and Tom stumbled out, his pupils dilated and his eyes crazed. Tom bounded for the doorway into the living room and stopped abruptly. He walked back and forth, muttering beneath his breath as he did.

“Tom?” She approached him carefully. Her voice startled him from his erratic state. He licked his lips nervously.

“I forgot something in my car,” Tom blurted out and spun around a last time, walking quickly to the car. She followed him immediately, her eyes trained on the width of his shoulders.

“I’ll go with you,” she insisted with a backwards glance at the living room, loud with guests. Tom didn’t respond as he made wide strides to the elevator doors. His breath was heavy and hard as he punched the call button and looked down at her, standing at his side.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“I’m going with you.” She answered apprehensively. Tom cleared his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

“You don’t need to do that,” his eyes flicked back at the apartment door. When the elevator doors opened he sighed, debating what to do. He knew better than to go back into the apartment. He’d have to come back another time. She followed him into the elevator and pressed the lobby button for him, her ears growing hot. Tom coughed into his closed fist and started to sweat as the doors closed.

“Is everything alright, Tom?” She asked him directly as the doors closed and the elevator sunk below the floor.

“Fine. Fine.” He avoided eye contact and put his hands on his hips, the crotch of his pants bunching around his thighs. He looked up at the floor numbers flashing across the screen above the doors.

“You don’t seem fine, Tom. What the hell were you doing in there just now?” She raised her eyebrow and crossed her arms. Tom groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I’ve just had a long day.”

“Just one?” She asked him with a grunt. “You look like you haven’t slept in days… plural.”

“Bitch.” Tom snapped and crossed his arms, mirroring her.

The elevator jolted suddenly and the lights flickered. They stopped their bickering for a moment. She noticed the floor number had stopped at three. The buttons for each floor flashed across the board.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” Tom repeated frustratedly and jabbed at the buttons.

“Stop, you’ll make it worse.” She slapped his hands away and he groaned, resting his head against the wall of the elevator.

“It’s stuck,” he mumbled and she nodded, her lips falling into a nervous frown.

“Yes, it appears so.” She studied the buttons and jabbed at the one labeled “call.”

Hello? The operator answered after a few seconds.

“Hello, hi. We’re stuck in the elevator.”

I’ll call the fire department and maintenance. There might be a delay due to the parade traffic but we should have you out soon. Call again if anything happens.

“Damn, it sounds like we’ll be in here for a while.”

“Fuck, just my fucking luck.”

“You say fuck a lot,” she laughed off some of her discomfort.

“Fuck you,” Tom added disheartedly.

She moved back into a corner of the elevator and watched as Tom leaned into the wall, his breath fogging up the gold aluminum wall.

“You might as well tell me what it is, now that we’ll be here for a while.” She looked down at her shoes and cleared her throat. “Just tell me,” she urged him but Tom only rolled his eyes, the reflection of it projected back at her.

“Is it the coke?” She tried and Tom laughed.

“You think I’m like this because of the coke?”

“You’re not giving me any other reason.” She shrugged and Tom turned to face her.

“That’s not the reason.”

“You have some of it left above your lip there,” she gestured to her top lip and Tom wiped his mouth quickly with his sleeve.

Tom sighed and slid down the wall into a crouching position, his hands clasped together in front of his face. He exhaled deeply and looked at the opposite wall, away from her.

“I found out the other day that Marianne has been cheating on me.” His voice wavered as he spoke.

“What?” She gasped softly.

He twisted the wedding ring on his finger and chuckled darkly.

“It’s been going on for months.”

“Do you know who they are? The person that she’s cheating with?” She asked slowly, her brows furrowed and her heart beating quickly.

“Yes,” he answered again with a chuckle, his voice pained. “She’s been fucking Bill.”

“Bill?!” She slapped a hand across her mouth. “Her advisor? Bill’s cheating on Janet? What the fuck?!” The words all fell out of her mouth. Tom shook his head and with one angry movement chucked his wedding ring across the elevator at the opposite wall. The small piece of metal bounced off the wall with a sharp noise and settled between them on the floor.

“So you were going to confront him?” She asked, everything coming together.

He nodded and without warning, started to sob. She immediately knelt beside Tom and patted his back awkwardly. Tom, rather comedically, collapsed into her chest, his hands grappling at her sides. Her heart began to race as his face inched closer to her breast. Her hands shaked as she combed his hair (heavy with product) out of his eyes.

“He stole my wife! He stole my wife,” he cried against her chest.

“I’m sorry, Tom. I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she carded her fingers through his hair. The texture of his warm skin beneath her fingertips distracted her. The smell of his expensive cologne and hair product flooded her system. She resisted the urge to lick the scent from his neck, taut with tendons. Geez, she was a creep. Tom’s baby-like tears stained her shirt and made the material stick to the skin below.

“Does Marianne know that you know?” She tried to focus herself back on the situation.

“No, I saw it on her phone,” he hiccuped pitifully. “They’ve been fucking in my bed, our bed!”

She shushed him softly as he started to cry again. His manic sobs racked his thick and muscular body.

“Are you going to divorce her?” She whispered and Tom shook his head softly.

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Tom pulled away and laid his head back against the elevator wall. She could make out all of the freckles and sun spots across his high cheekbones. She sighed as she reached a hand to his face and swept a tear away from his jaw. Tom turned his clear blue eyes to her’s. His wide lips quivered slightly as he panted from all of his emotions.

“What she and Bill did is inexcusable, Tom. She doesn’t deserve you if she thinks this casually unfaithful behavior is ok.” She was on her knees now, her thighs flexed beneath her dress.

Tom’s eye traveled up her body, starting on her fleshy thighs. She watched him curiously. Was he doing what she thought he was? Was he checking her out? Tom’s hand rose from the floor beside him and moved to her knee.

“Y/N…” he whispered pitifully. Her heart fluttered in her chest and she nearly choked on her own exhale. His thumb rubbed circles into her exposed skin. She knew that she shouldn’t but what more harm could it do? Tom wanted to get back at his wife and she wanted to be fucked by Tom. Win/win situation- no, stop it. Don’t look at me like that! It’s totally ethical. Besides, the way his body leaned into her brought about a powerful force of attraction between them. The streaks of graying hair caught the fluorescent light like plastic rhinestones.

She leaned forward, into his mouth and exhaled softly against his lips. Tom kissed her first, capturing her lips into a harsh kiss. She kissed him back and tugged gently at the roots of his hair. He moaned excitedly around her lips. Words failed them as they kissed. Their hands spoke softly to each other, begging and asking for more. She pushed off Tom’s coat, exposing the holster strung between his shoulder blades.

“What the fuck?” She whispered, her eyes wide. “What the hell are you doing with a fucking gun, Tom?”

“I-I just wanted to get back at them, at him. I’m just so angry,” Tom panted emotionally, his hands shaking. She looked between him and the gun and sighed.

“I can think of another way to get back at them that doesn’t involve this,” she pointed at the gun strapped around his shoulder. Tom looked up at her, his eyes wide as she closed the distance again. She rose on her knees so that she could be taller than him and cupped his jaw.

“I can think of something that we should do to get back at them,” she whispered against his wide lips. Tom didn’t respond, his heart beating fast and not just because of the cocaine.

“It goes something like this,” she kissed him with hesitant pecks before settling into a deep rhythm. His hands finally started to move up her hips, grasping the edge of her waist. His breath labored against her and she allowed a shuttering moan to escape; a product of pent up energy.

“Tom… Tom..” she muttered between kisses, her hands pulled up on his stiff white collar, urging him closer.

“Mmhm..” Tom hummed softly and guided her onto her back, sitting up between her knees. He towered over her and panted, his hands fumbling over his fly. She pulled down her own underwear and kicked it off her ankles. Tom pulled down his pants slightly and boxer briefs, immediately freeing his cock from his pants. He grabbed her thighs and pulled her closer. She slid across the elevator floor and slammed against his waiting hips. She giggled nervously, her face pink.

“Are you wet enough?” Tom asked quickly, his hand fisting his erection. His dress shirt trailed over his hands, hiding some of his actions from her view. She nodded eagerly and raised the excess of her dress, pulling the material over her upper thighs. Tom nodded breathlessly and entered her without much warning, she gasped and clenched her fists.

Tom cursed loudly beneath his breath as he filled her up completely. Her body stretched to accommodate him and the sensation sent shivers up both of their bodies like a cold chill. Tom thrusted at a slow rhythm as he worked himself deeper inside her. She whimpered loudly and steadied herself against the hall of the elevator as she slid back and forth on the floor.

As her body opened more and more, his thrusts became harder and faster. He leaned over her and planted his hands firmly on the floor on either side of her waist. Bringing his hips closer to her, he fucked her aggressively. Instead of dragging out his hips before each thrust, he stayed as deep as possible inside of her and thrusted farther.

“God you’re so good,” Tom panted as his mouth fell open into a moan. His eyebrows furrowed to keep him focused.

“Mm-Marianne is an idiot,” she whined around her words and dug her fingers into Tom’s back. Tom fucked her faster as a response, proving himself to her.

“Fuck- take it. Take it.” He commanded and she gasped as her orgasm grew. He panted with his mouth held open, his hips thudding against her. His curses flew from his mouth in octaves that grew higher as he felt himself spilling over the edge.

“Tommmm,” she trailed off, mumbling incoherently. He slowed down as he reached his climax so that he could see her reaction. He lowered himself closer to her and laced his fingers gently around her throat. Pulling one of her legs closer around his hip, he fucked her deeply but slow. His fingers flexed and tightened around her soft neck. He studied her closely, sweat pooling between his shoulders and the peak of his brow.

“I know, honey. I know. Marianne could never handle this but you like it when I fuck you. You’d beg me, wouldn’t you?” He whispered as his cock began to flex inside of her. She squeezed her thighs and he grunted, forcing himself through her body’s automatic resistance. She nodded and licked her lips.

“Fuck, you feel so much better than her.” He continued to grunt, his teeth gritting. She pulled at the graying roots of his hair, her palms cradling his face. With a sharp yell, Tom finished inside her. His hips rocked against her until he had spilled everything out inside her. Their panting filled the air between them and synced into a rhythm.

“That was fucking amazing, Tom.” She whispered, her voice weak over her racing heart.

“Kiss me,” Tom growled. She raised her head slightly to place a kiss on his chapped lips. They kissed sweetly, until a steady beeping noise drew them away from their bodies. The elevator’s panel lit up as it was restarted. They hurriedly separated. Tom tucked in his shirt and buttoned his pants. She pulled her underwear back on and smoothed down her hair. Seconds later, the elevator doors opened to a team of mechanics. The mechanics raised their eyebrows collectively at the couple inside, their faces flushed and sweaty handprints still visible on the elevator’s walls.

“Thank you so much,” she tried to smile normally at the men as they stumbled out of the elevator. Tom gave the mechanics one more backwards glance before they hurried for the stairwell. Slamming the door closed behind them, Tom shoved her up against the wall inside the stairwell. The sound reverberated up the cement structure, ringing in her ears. He kissed her neck, sucking parts of her flesh to make small hickeys. She sighed as she pulled his face to meet her again and kissed him, her lips pulled into a smile.

“We should do this again,” Tom mumbled darkly against her lips. She nodded and bit his bottom lip gently.

“How about right now?”

#cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #smut #fanfiction #the party #the party 2017 #dark!cillian #cillian fanfic #cillian x y/n #y/n #fem!reader #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #jackson rippner #one shot

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dnd-writes · 1 year

Text

Way of Water

AO3

Tags: Power bottom!Eunbi, back-up dancer!reader, watersports, deepthroating, BFH

Warning: Watersports. I mean come on, waterbomb, watersports, I had to plus I couldn't think of anything else and I just really wanted to write Eunbi after seeing those clips

A/N: Never did I think I would write Eunbi so soon nor did I think that I would *not* write subby Eunbi. She's just that great. So... yeah, enjoy!

Also I used the "Door" performance as inspiration. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9CBUzWUSVSM I don't know if this works honestly, I don't really Tumblr. I'll fix it when I wake up... maybe

“🎶 Just stay right by my side. Woo woo woo woo woo woo yeah 🎶”

‘Ok, next part is coming up. Just go up to her then go back to the side. Easy. Simple.’ You don’t know why you’re reassuring yourself so much or why you’re even hesitating in the first place. You’ve done this song, this dance, this particular move dozens of times on stage, at least hundreds in practice. Yet here you are, acting like a complete newbie doing his first performance ever.

Eunbi runs back up the catwalk towards the main stage after finishing the second chorus of the song. Her wet, bikini-clad chest bounces around and it feels like time is slowing down, water falls from the sky so gently it feels like you could count every droplet in your vicinity. Eunbi’s breasts bounce hypnotically underneath the near-nonexistent top hugging her body, you’ve seen them jiggle and shake a thousand times before and not once have you thought about Eunbi sexually in any way but something about this current moment makes it different. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re seeing her cleavage in full or maybe it’s all the water being sprayed on her that’s awakening something you never knew you had in you.

And just like that time zooms forward and you’re back to the present. Eunbi runs back up the catwalk towards the main stage after finishing the second chorus of the song. She hurries over to a dancer then clings onto his nape as she starts singing her next line.

“🎶 Neowa 🎶 na sai 🎶 “

That’s your cue to move over. ‘Easy, simple,’ you repeat to yourself. ‘Just let her guide me, just flow with the music.’ It really isn’t that hard, just one step, one simple step that you’ve practiced for hours.

“🎶 aseulhan seoneul balbeun jigeum 🎶”

You let Eunbi pull you in close to her then her leg wraps around you. At that moment you feel the world just completely stop, not even slowing down like you felt earlier but rather completely still. Your face is an inch from her chest, it’s a position you’re completely familiar with but given the circumstances it feels so brand new. Though your face is looking away, your eyes aren’t. You peek over and standing there is Eunbi’s soft, massive chest in all its glory. Seeing it glistening with all the water turned you on instantly and gave your brain ideas you never thought it would make.

And how could you forget her leg, your eyes focused so much on her tits that you forgot the leg wrapped around you. To say your brain went into overdrive is an understatement because the moment it realizes Eunbi wrapped around you, the amount of nasty perverted thoughts more than just doubled. Your brain explodes then just like that you’re out of that fever dream.

Eunbi kicks the leg wrapped around you and in unison you drop to the ground. Your professionalism went back in gear but half your brain focuses on the choreography and the other incessantly sexualizes Eunbi causing you to slip up your dancing here and there, thankfully, as a backup dancer no one really pays much attention to you. And besides, it’s a water festival, you can always blame mishaps on the slippery stage.

For the rest of the song and the rest of Eunbi’s set at Waterbomb, you never had any moment as visceral or powerful as the ones during “Door,” there was a close call during “Glitch” but you held your cool.

You and the other dancers exit as Eunbi bids goodbye to the audience. All your friends look so jolly and hyper, bouncing and jumping around after performing multiple stages, meanwhile your face is blank. With your mind no longer half-occupied with dancing perfectly, lewd thoughts about Eunbi start to rot your head.

“That was so fun!”

“Can’t wait to do it again!” “I wish every stage was like this now…”

Several cheers erupt from the group as you all head over to the green room. “Hey, man, you doing good?” It takes a while for your brain to register that you are the one being talked to, you raise your head to see your friends stop in their tracks, all worriedly looking at you. You give them a soft smile and a passable excuse, “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just… a little more tired than usual. I think I’ll just stay here for a bit.”

One of them pats you on the back, “What a bummer. Just rest, we all worked so hard today. Well if you need us we’ll just be outside watching the other performances, ‘kay?” You give a quick nod and wave them off as they disappear from view.

You enter the room and the cold air blasts your face, despite how cold it is inside your body feels the opposite. You try to stand right in front of the A/C, your ears start to hurt but inside you still can’t feel the chill. An idea pops into your head and you sprint for the mini-fridge on the other side of the room. The thing is packed with cold water bottles. You take a sip and sigh in relief as you feel the cool travel down your throat, but it still isn’t enough. You sip, you gulp, you down a full bottle, then a second, then a third, then a fourth. Endless stream of chill flows in your body but you still feel the heat, the problem isn’t with your face, in your throat, or in your stomach, no, it’s much deeper down and it doesn’t need acquisition to be cooled.

“Hey, there you are,” shouts a familiar voice. You quickly turn around and see the root of your problem, Eunbi. Standing there dripping wet, cardigan completely drenched, tits fully exposed, you don’t know whether to call yourself lucky or unlucky to be in this situation right now.

You’re not sure if it’s your mind messing with you or you’re actually looking at reality but with every step that Eunbi takes towards you, you swear you could see her chest bounce. “The others said you weren’t feeling well so I came to check on you.”

“T-That’s sweet of you. I-I mean, yeah I’m fine.” Eunbi finally gets right in front of you, even though you’re taller than her your eyes are looking way lower than where they normally would be at. You try to maintain eye contact but it’s like your pupils are too heavy for your own good, always falling and resting in Eunbi’s cleavage, just up and down and up and down. Similarly, Eunbi looks down, you follow her gaze towards the prominent bulge at your crotch.

“I-I’m sorry, it’s just… the outfit and, and, and the water and–” You try to turn away and apologize but Eunbi plants her hands firmly on your shoulders and makes you face her, she looks you dead in the eyes and… flashes you a smile? “Look, it’s ok. You don’t have to apologize. You know what? The others are upstairs having fun. Why don’t we… have some fun… of our own?”

You’re at a loss for words. Is this really happening? Is Eunbi really asking you to fuck her or did you somehow pass out and start imagining that Eunbi is asking you to fuck her. Whether it’s a dream or reality you happily nod and oblige.

Eunbi takes your hand and pulls you into the small bathroom nearby. You don’t even take the time to look around, instead you quickly get on the toilet seat while Eunbi kneels in front of you.

Eunbi palms your crotch through your jeans and you squirm at the action, not because you almost came but rather something else is begging to be released. You notice Eunbi give off a devilish smirk at your movement and you nervously chuckle at what she might have planned for you.

“Well we won’t be needing these anymore.” Eunbi takes off her near see through top then shortly after her bikini, not wasting a single second on foreplay. Her tits bounce out now that they’re freely in the open air, looking bigger than in any outfit you’ve ever seen her wear. Well you’re certain what to call your situation right now – lucky – Men and women alike would kill to be anywhere close to your position.

“Or these.” She quickly unzips your pants and tugs both it and your underwear down. You help her out by lifting your butt and pulling down with her. Your cock springs free and Eunbi doesn’t hesitate and begins jerking you off slowly. Her other hand, meanwhile, goes above your dick and presses lightly on it. You squirm just like earlier, finally confirming her suspicions.

“You look so full, baby. All that water you drank is already making its way down, isn’t it? Don’t you just want to let go? I heard peeing feels just as refreshing as cumming, why don’t we test that? C’mon, baby, just give it all to me. Let me feel that hot piss on me, baby.”

Pissing during sex hasn’t ever occurred to you before in your life, you’d think it’d turn you off but you’re harder than you’ve ever been your whole life. Despite your dick clearly wanting this to happen, your brain is still in denial over such a taboo. Eunbi’s basically begging for you to pee on her and yet you somehow won’t.

Eunbi presses down on your bladder but not too much, she wants you to pee but she doesn’t want to force it out of you. Perhaps there’s a middle ground. “Come on, baby. Don’t you want to see me covered in your piss? Soak my hair, coat my perfect tits and face. I just know you want to do it, maybe you just need some convincing?”

Then what is possible the hottest thing you never knew you needed happens – Eunbi starts pissing all over the floor. She moans as she empties her bladder, you feel a pool forming beneath you as the hot liquid surrounds your feet.. “You hear that, baby? I wanna hear that from you too. Come on, give it to me. I know you want to.” The sound echoes around the tiny area and it’s just the trick to send you over the edge.

As soon as the first trail of yellow comes out of your tip, Eunbi aims your dick at herself, treating it like a hose and showering herself in every place. First, she coats her tits in light sheen, just the sight you needed to see ever since that close-up view you had of her chest; Second, she aims it at her face, letting pee get into her hair and having it drip down her chin and neck; Lastly, Eunbi opens her mouth and takes your cock inside while it’s still gushing.

Eunbi bobbing her head up and down, sucking on your dick while gulping every single drop as fast as you give it to her. You feel like you’re in heaven. Just moments ago you were hesitant, not even entertaining the thought of pissing while having sex but here you are relishing at the sight of Eunbi drinking the contents of your bladder while also deepthroating you. Who knew that the modest Eunbi would ever be this skillful at something like this?

Your bladder finally empties the remaining urine into Eunbi’s mouth and not once did a single drop escape her lips. erent liquid is begging for its release.

Eunbi stops sucking and replaces her mouth with her hands after no longer receiving any piss. “Give it to me, baby. You wanna coat these tits, don’t you? You wanna cum on me and smear it all over my perfect face?” This time you don’t hold back, you let your cum fly as if it was just like piss. Your vision goes white and so does Eunbi, ropes shoot out and cover just about everything it could reach – Eunbi’s hair, her face, her chin, her neck, her tits. You slowly descend from heaven and the sight before you makes it seem like you haven’t. Eunbi uses the tip of your cock like a brush and spreads the cum all over her skin. She’s mixing a combo of piss, sweat, water, spit, and cum all over herself and the concoction coating her tits makes you hard and ready to cum again.

Eunbi stands up and her own piss is dripping from her skirt. “Ready for round 2, baby?”

#kpop #kpop smut #izone #izone smut #kwon eunbi #eunbi smut

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crappymixtape · 7 months

Text

gold & glitter

REQUEST → @superblysubpar, A VERY MERRY MIXTAPE ❝ i’m thinking a little rich!steve harrington, a little spicy somethin, somethin and a holiday play – spicy is right, steve takes you to see the nutcracker, but you don’t even make it to the first act • 18+ | ( 3.1k – smut with a dash of fluff, rich!steve x reader )

G O L D & G L I T T E R 🎶 the nutcracker suite, tchaikovsky

“Good evening, Mister Harrington. Miss. May I take your jackets?”

“Thank you, Charles. Did you order the MacCallan Anniversary malt?”

“Of course, sir. It is available neat here from your decanter or we can dress up however you like. Miss, your jacket?”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you opened them again expecting the finery before you to disappear into thin air like a dream, but it didn’t.

“Oh ye-yeah. I mean-yes. Yes, thank you,” you stumbled over your words as the waitstaff took your coat and disappeared behind the curtain. God, you were working overtime to maintain the same level of calm and collected sophistication that seemed to come so easily to your date.

Steve Harrington. Son of John Harrington and heir to the Harrington fortune. One with a foundation built by generations of brokers and wealth managers. Carried on throughout the years to be passed down to the eldest or, in Steve’s case, the only son.

You’d been together for over a year now, but you still weren’t used to it. This lifestyle.

Going anywhere with him meant multiple planned routes in and out of your destinations. Private cars with dark tinted, bullet-proof windows. Black American Express cards, Gucci loafers, and champagne flown direct from the Garonne Valley in Bordeaux, France.

And of course, at Christmastime, a viewing of George Balanchine's The Nutcracker from a private balcony, performed by only the finest troupe at the New York City Ballet.

You’d been to the theatre, the opera, but never like this. A suite all to yourselves, up and away from prying eyes, and upon each seat rested a pair of exquisitely golden opera binoculars for your viewing pleasure. It felt otherworldly. Lush and dark, gilded and polished. Long, red, crushed velvet curtains draped heavy to the floor and on a small table thick, crystalline tumblers sat next to a matching decanter full of only the finest single malt whiskey.

Lifting a hand, you ghosted an immaculately manicured finger around the rim of one of the glasses.

“Is it up to your standards, honey?”

The low, warmth of Steve’s voice broke your trance and pulled your gaze quick to look up at him.

“What?” you wondered aloud, still surprised at how he could ask such questions, “My standards? God. It’s beautiful.”

“Good. M’glad you like it.”

A smile tugged up at the corner of his mouth as he watched you walk to lean out over the balcony and look down at the sea of seats below. You were wearing the emerald green dress he’d bought you especially for the occasion. Made of the finest silk and fitted tight against every curve and dip of your body. Your hair swept long over one shoulder, soft skin exposed through the keyhole cut into the back. You were exquisite.

And you were all his.

Tucking a hand into the pocket of his slacks he reluctantly looked away from you and took up the decanter to pour a measure of whiskey for himself. MacCallan, single malt, from 1928 and around three-hundred thousand dollars a bottle. Lifting the tumbler he inhaled deeply and let his eyes drift shut. Worth every single penny.

“Charles,” his voice notched up in volume and the man from earlier appeared through the thick, velvet curtains.

“Sir?”

“A bottle of Dom and a chilled glass,” Steve took a drink from his whiskey and let it sit on a his tongue for a moment before swallowing it down. “Oh, and my cigar case.”

“Sir, you know smoking isn’t permitted–”

Steve hummed, a low thrum in his throat, and stepped forward toward the other man.

“How much do I pay for these seats, Charles? How much does my family pay for these seats? Since the theatre opened in 1964…I’ll let you do the math,” he took another sip of whiskey and lifted a hand to smooth down the other man’s cravat, “My cigar case.”

“Yes. Of course, Mister Harrington,” the man replied quietly, eyes glued to the cheap, shiny black plastic of his dress shoes.

Steve put on a smile, the one he gave to clients when he knew he’d closed an account, and gripped the man’s shoulder, “Good man.”

And without another word Charles was off again through the curtain.

There was no denying it, Steve’s presence always held weight. Held power. No one could tell him no. Stood in boardrooms dressed to the nines. Gold heirloom cufflinks, custom tailored jackets and Tucci de Lusso oxfords included, but this version of him was different. Somehow more and you didn’t know how it was possible.

Brunette locks perfectly coiffed. Custom black Armani suit fitted tight across his chest and shoulders. Gold signet ring with his initials engraved upon it shining up from his index finger, and damn if his ass didn’t look incredible in those slacks.

You clicked your tongue at him and fixed him with a look, closing the gap between the two of you.

“Babe, he’s just trying to enforce the house rules,” smoothing a hand up his chest, you pretended to adjust his tie as an excuse to touch him.

“Honey, you and I both know who makes the rules around here,” he drawled, his tone making you weak in the knees, and he set his glass down in favor of taking hold of your waist. His hand wide and warm on the small of your back as he ran it down the curve of your ass and squeezed, pulling a gasp from your lips.

“Steve,” you chided, no heat behind it, and he dipped down to press a kiss to your neck.

“This really is your color,” he whispered in your ear and your eyes fluttered at the sound. Pressed your thighs together as he traced a finger across your exposed collarbone. Warmth blooming in your core as he followed the hem that chased along the edge of your shoulder.

“You’ve got good taste,” you whispered back, swallowing the moan that had crept up your throat and he grinned.

“I do, don’t I.”

“Sir, your cigar cas–oh!”

Charles came back through the curtain to find the two of you pressed into each other, Steve’s nose buried in the crook of your neck. Your cheeks burned at being caught.

“My sincerest apologies, sir! I should’ve–”

“S’alright,” Steve chuckled, pulling away from you to casually take the case from the other man without missing a beat. He reached into his money clip and slipped a hundred dollar bill into Charles’ hand, “Now. That will be all. If I need anything, I’ll ring you.” The finality of his words hung in the air.

“Yes, sir. Of course, sir. Excuse me,” and with that Charles disappeared again for what you were certain, after all that, would be the last time.

“Shit,” you breathed, cheeks still bright red as you bit back a laugh.

Steve was laughing too, but no where near embarrassed, and he grabbed your hand to pull you close to his chest again as the theatre lights flickered and slowly dimmed.

“Mmm, damn. Showtime,” he murmured softly into your hair.

You felt your stomach drop at the thought of having to sit so still, and so far from Steve for three hours, but then another thought came to you. One that made your cheeks flush again and you pressed your face into his lapel, breathing in the citrusy, cedar scent of his cologne.

Pulling away just enough to meet his gaze the expression you maintained was innocent, but the look in your eye wasn’t. It was dark and needy. Warm and flickering at the feeling of his hands on your waist.

“We could freshen up first,” you suggested quietly and as Steve put your words together his pupils blew wide. Pools of black edged in gold and he squeezed at the plush of your hip.

“Uh-huh,” came out strangled and it was all he could manage. Unable to focus on anything other than rucking that silk dress up around your thighs, and without hesitation he grabbed your hand and pulled you through the thick, velvet curtains.

The corridor was empty, Charles hiding wherever he’d rushed off to, and everyone else was in their seats to catch the opening act as Steve led you the short distance down the hall.

Luckily for you, the neighboring balcony’s ticket holders had filed for bankruptcy earlier in the year and now the restrooms on this wing were exclusively Steve’s. Doors crafted from thick oak and etched with breathtaking carvings of Swan Lake and Slyphide, they were heavy enough to drown out anything happening on the other side.

Thank god.

Ignoring the men’s and women’s signs, Steve chose the closest door and shouldered into it, bicep straining against the tight fabric of his shirt as he held muscled it open. It was a hurried mess, both of you tripping into the room on the train of your dress in a fit of giggles as Steve huffed a laugh and cursed under his breath.

“Baby.”

Heels clicking on the white granite tile floor, you regained your footing and finally took in all the exquisite details of the ornate room. Wide marble slabs. Bottles of lotion and perfume that cost more than your mortage. Gold fixtures shining in the low light falling from crystal chandeliers that refracted bright shards of color against the walls.

You would have appreciated the incredible beauty of it all, but Steve. You couldn’t have cared less and neither could he.

He spun you around to face him and hooked his arms behind the backs of your legs. Scooped you up off the ground and pulled a squeal from you as you held on tight around his neck to steady yourself.

Squeezing his hold on you, he freed an arm and swept it across the counter. Knocked the soap dish clattering into the sink basin and paid absolutely no attention to the lush basket of designer hand towels that fell to the floor as he lifted you with ease onto the marble surface.

“Steve,” you protested weakly and when he notched himself between your legs you felt yourself melt under him.

His hands were everywhere. Your waist, the small of your back, fingers pressing into your cheek and pushing your hair over your shoulder to drag messy, open-mouthed kisses against the skin there. It pulled a moan from your lips and at the sound he groaned into you.

“Christ, babe. I’ve wanted to get my hands on you since you climbed into the limo. Pretty as a fuckin’ picture in this thing. So damn hot. All for me, huh?”

“S’always for you,” you half-laughed, but it caught in your throat as he slipped a hand between your thighs, “God, Steve.”

“This for me too, honey?”

He gathered a handful of emerald green silk in one hand and pooled it at your waist as the cool air of the room sent a shiver up your spine. Then he caught sight of the black lace panties hugging tight against you and sucked in a breath. Bit down on his bottom lip and looked like he might cry.

“You’re gonna kill me with these. Are you kiddin’ me? Baby. Look at this,” he babbled, just standing there not touching you and you grabbed hold of his wrist and tugged him back into you.

“Talk too much,” you murmured against his ear, running a hand through the hair at the nape of his neck and dragging your nails against his skin, “It’s all yours…Mister Harrington.”

And fuck if the dress and panties weren’t enough, the sound of your voice wrapped around his name did him in.

“Damn right it is.”

He growled as you tugged on his hair, slipped his hand back between your legs and tugged the thin fabric of your panties aside. The way he had been kissing and talking at you out on the balcony had been plenty to send you pressing your thighs together, but the way he was handling you in here had you soaked.

His fingers slipped in your slick as he felt just how wet you were and he smirked against your skin as he dragged his lips up to your jawline. Tutting softly he slowly circled your clit, his other hand moving to wrap gently around the column of your throat.

“Bet you want me to talk now, huh honey? You want that? Talk dirty to you?” his voice was barely above a whisper as his fingers slid down to press against your entrance.

You swallowed against the hand he had on your throat, your lips dropping open into a perfect little ‘o’ as you squirmed against the counter, impatient for him.

“Uh-huh,” you breathed and he smirked at how he had you wrapped around his finger, literally as he slid one into you.

“That’s my girl. I know what you like, don’t I? Give you everything you need. Take care of you, hm?” he babbled, kissing and sucking at the hollow behind your ear as he began to slide his finger in and out, in and out. A slow drag at first before adding a second finger and pulling a moan from your lips.

“Good care of me,” fell out mindlessly as he gently tightened the hand on your throat making your heartbeat thud in your ears.

“This isn’t enough though, is it? Not enough. Want me to fill you up, don’t you honey?” he whispered and you nodded, your throat too tight to speak, and god you wanted him to make you see stars.

He pulled his hand from between your legs to undo the button on his pants and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes at the loss of his touch.

“Shh, I got you, baby,” he coaxed, pulling down his zipper and reaching in to free his rock hard cock.

It sprang out of his pants without any encouragement and he wrapped a hand around it. Rubbed it against your slit as it practically cried in anticipation and as he slowly pushed himself into you it made you sucked in a rasp of a breath.

“Steve,” you begged and he moved his hand to grip your thigh.

“I know, baby.”

An inch more and he was into you up to the hilt. Filling you so much that you could feel the tip pressing against the spot only he could reach. Easing out he groaned as you clenched down on him before pushing back in and he set the pace there. A slow drag. In, out. In, out.

The wet sounds coming from you as he fucked you slowly were obscene. Made louder by the empty room, but you didn’t care. You wanted more.

“Harder,” you pleaded. He wanted it too and as he looked down at the sight of his cock sliding into your cunt he nearly lost it.

Letting go of your throat he grabbed onto your other thigh for purchase and pulled you to the very edge of the counter. Picked up the pace and started fucking you faster, the slap, slap, slap of his thighs against yours filling the air.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Feel so good. You like that? Huh? Want more?”

“More–shit. Yes, god. More, Steve.”

Your knuckles were white with how hard you were gripping the counter, moans falling freely from your lips now as Steve pushed you both closer and closer to climax. You could feel the coil tightening in your stomach as he squeezed into the plush of your thighs and your hand flew up to grab at the back of his neck.

“Gonna–ugh–come, baby. Come with me, baby,” he said through gritted teeth, jaw ticking when he clenched down, and as he rocked his hips back into you, you both came.

Your orgasm wrapped around you tight. White hot. Electric. Every inch of you buzzing and sparking like fireworks on the fourth of July and you cried out as his thrusts fell out of sync, jerky and messy as he came down.

A soft thud echoed against the tile as your head fell back against the mirror behind you, beads of sweat holding your hair messy across your forehead. Steve leaned into you, rested his head on your chest, and slowly your breaths evened out.

Your lips twitched with a smile, your hand lifting to cover your mouth as you held back a laugh, and Steve seemed to have the same thought as he chuckled against your dress.

“Someone heard us. For sure,” you finally said, voice crackly from breathing so hard.

“And? Who gives a shit. Maybe we just gave them a good idea,” Steve grinned, looking up at you from where he rested his chin on your belly.

You swatted at him, gasping as he pulled out of you to avoid getting hit.

Bending down, Steve grabbed a couple of the hand towels from where they’d landed on the tile and ran warm water on them. Quickly cleaned himself up and then took his time with you. Paid close attention to where he’d held onto your throat. Where his fingertips pressed into your thighs. Dabbed softly across your forehead and spent extra time on the mess between your legs.

You touched up your makeup and perfume, adjusted Steve's tie and hair, and when you both finally emerged from the bathroom the piece the orchestra was playing reached a crescendo and the theatre filled with applause.

It couldn’t be the end of the first act?

Steve walked you easy back to the balcony and held the heavy velvet curtain open for you. Your gilded opera binoculars were still sitting perfectly upon your seat where you’d left them and the bottle of chilled Dom Perignon was on ice along with a champagne flute – you hated whiskey.

You both sank into your seats as the orchestra began to play again and you recognized the piece and shot Steve a look.

“The party scene just started,” you whispered, “We’re not even out of the first part of act one.”

“Christ,” he groaned, grinning into his hands as he rubbed them across his face. Then, glancing over at you he grabbed his cigar box, “We can always make up for it next year. Right?”

Your eyes grew wide.

“Skip the Nutcracker?” you asked incredulously and he quirked a brow at you.

“Yeah. Skip it and we’ll go catch part two of the bathroom scene at mine,” he said giving you a wicked grin and you feigned shock, your own grin threatening to shatter your facade.

“Mister Harrington, what would your mother say?”

And the look he gave you then was the absolute definition of smug.

“My Stevie boy always gets what he wants.”

And damn if she wasn’t right about that.

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ash5monster01 · 2 months

Text

Turnstiles

Chapter Four - I’ve Loved These Days 🎶

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, language, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of death, abandonment issues, slight sadness.

Summary: You and Steve get your first place together and even if it isn’t glamorous, it’s good enough for the both of you as you leave the old days behind.

word count: 2.6k

Three ←→ Five

Masterlist

Summer 1988

We hide our hearts from harder times

There were so many boxes. It seemed to be a never ending pile from the back of the moving truck, one neither of you could really afford but needed. Even with Dustin and Robin helping carry each new box in, it seemed every time you returned to the truck there was just as many if not more. You couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped your lips as you looked at the very daunting pile that you knew would take you more than likely a month to finally put all in place.

“Don’t tell me we’re giving up already” that familiar sultry voice whispered in your ear, arms snaking around your waist from behind.

“Not giving up, just trying to gain the courage” you tell him, a small smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. You knew as much as Steve would try to help he would also play with everything he unpacked before actually putting it away, making the process much longer than it needed to be.

“It’s not that bad” Steve said with a soft shake of his head, small tufts of hair falling loose from the action.

“Yes it is, you packed every trophy you have ever earned in your entire life” you tell him, pointing to the large box labeled ‘Steve’s Achievements’.

“Hey I earned those, I can’t just throw them out” Steve pouts as you break out of his arms, doing your best attempt at climbing up into the truck to grab another box.

“I know handsome, I just have to tease” you say leaning down and he’s happy to bring his pouty lips to yours and leave a quick kiss. As much as you teased, you had felt bad. When Steve announced to his parents you were officially getting a place together they decided to put the house up for sale since they were never there anyways. As much as Steve didn’t have a great childhood it was still the only home he had ever known. You knew it took a toll on him and forced him to pack every single one of his belongings instead of the necessities.

“Hey dingus, why are we the only ones carrying shit?” Robin called out as she stepped out the doors of the small apartment, spotting you juggling a new box while Steve lingered at the back of the truck.

“I need my rest Robin, if Rosy’s shit wasn’t so heavy” he called back and you shot him a quick glare which made him laugh softly.

“You’re an idiot” Robin mumbled as you handed her the box in your arms and picked up a new one.

“What the hell Steve! Why are the girls the only one’s carrying your shit?” Dustin called out, exiting the home as well and you and Robin quickly erupt in giggles as Steve groans out.

“I don’t have a box in my arms for two seconds and I get harassed. What the hell is this?” Steve says mostly to himself, jumping up into the truck much easier than you did and you watch as he goes for one of the small boxes.

“Uh-uh mister. You’re bringing that one in” you say, nodding your head to the trophy box and Steve rolls his eyes before doing what he was told.

“God you’re so whipped” Robin snorts before starting back for the apartment ready to unload the boxes as fast as she can.

“I’m not whipped!” he called out quickly in defense but Dustin just laughed and grabbed a box for himself.

“It’s okay Stevie, you’re allowed to be whipped. I definitely am for you” you tell him sweetly and he grins, the oddly large trophy box now in his arms.

“I love you” he hums out, leaning and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before hopping out of the truck. Your heart flutters due to the sentiment, never getting tired of the words he finally spoke a year and a half ago. Well actually wrote but ever since then he told you every chance he got and you loved it every time.

It had been over three years since you met Steve Harrington and you were pretty sure you’d never get tired of him. He came to you when you needed him most and you did the same for him. Since that day you hadn’t spent a day apart and making this decision, deciding to live together, after years of working and saving money, you had no regrets at all. This was it, he was your soulmate and this was only the beginning of a lifetime of years ahead. Small apartment or not, he was yours and that alone was a breath of relief.

“Need an invitation?” Robin called to you from the small house and you just chuckled before grabbing your things and making your way to the house. A house that would probably hold you and Steve for another few years, be your shelter from the storm, and despite its empty walls and bare floors, you couldn’t wait to make it a home.

It’s dusk by the time all the boxes are unloaded into your home and Robin and Dustin are long gone. Just looking at the mess you know you’re too tired to face it until tomorrow, so you make do with what you have. You make quick work of making a bed of the mattress on the floor, saving the frame building for tomorrow. When it looks decent enough to sleep on you make your way out of your room to find Steve. Much to your surprise he’s in the living room, boxes now cleared off the coffee table, and take out from the local diner on the table.

“I made dinner” he grins at you, sitting on the ground as he pours you a glass of wine in a mug. You giggle at the thought of it being the only thing he could find and join him on the floor.

“What’s this for?” you curiously ask, taking the mug from his hand and smiling at the food and candle he had set up.

“This is to taking our time. The last few years have felt like a race to the finish line and we finally made it” he says, recalling all the long hours and savings account expenses. Had it not been for the alternator going in Steve’s BMW you would’ve been here much sooner but at least you were here.

“Cheers to that” you say, clinking the mug against his own before taking a sip. Steve just smiles and looks to the simple plate of food. He loved that you both could live your lives so nonchalant, spend your nights living a luxurious lifestyle even if it’s just a small apartment.

“The money comes, the money goes, but we finally made it baby” he tells you and you quickly kiss him before grabbing the wrapped burger that your stomach grumbles for. Not realizing how hungry you were after a whole day of moving.

His words wash a sense of comfort over you. Knowing now you could spend your days a bit more relaxed, eat dinner in silk robes and light lamps for atmosphere. Even if the apartment was a passing phase in the start of the rest of your life you were both going long. Hanging hopes on chandeliers while gaining weight and sleeping in late. You had loved those days before living together but it was time to change your ways and love these new days. The days meant for just the two of you before something more comes along, something bigger.

“Did your parents say when they’re selling the house?” you ask around a bite of your burger, trying to get a better read on him and how he feels.

“By the end of the month, Dad says if I need anything to get it by then” he mutters, heart clenching over the fact. He hated that empty house, despised it, but these last few years it wasn’t really empty.

“I’m sorry honey” you tell him, wiping your face with a napkin and he shrugs.

“It’s okay, I was meant to move out sometime. Just wish it was still somewhat mine, you know? They were never there so much it sorta always felt like it did. Then when I started spending time with the kids and you there, I guess I just always imagined I’d stay there, raise my kids, teach em how to swim in the pool and how to ride their bike in the driveway. Make it more of a home then it ever was to me” Steve explains, eyes cast over the table and lost in a memory that hadn’t happened yet. Your heart instantly softens to the boy, hand reaching out to settle in his own just like you did when you first met.

“I’m sorry Stevie, but just think about how we can make those memories in our own home. A home we’ll grow old in and our kids can visit whenever and bring their kids with them” you tell him and Steve can’t help the small grin that cracks along his face at the sentiment.

“Is this you saying it’s you and I forever Rosy?” he inquires, devious eyes glimmering into your own and you laugh, cheeks flushing red.

“Well I’d say moving in together kinda deals the deal” you tell him and Steve grins before reaching over to grab your waist. Much to your surprise he lifts you effortlessly over and into his lap where his face nuzzles into your neck.

“Then it’s you and me forever, I promise” he tells you, warm breath tickling your skin. Now you both could indulge in things refined and hide your hearts from the harder times.

This marked the start of drowning your doubts in dry champagne and dreaming of your future. A future that if you dreamed hard enough could include real pearls, foreign cars, caviar and cabernet wine. Yet the real riches was a future with each other, a future that included kids and endless memories to be shared. You didn’t really care if you only ever lived in this apartment, the boy curled up next to you was the real dream.

“Another toast” you say, reaching for your mug and handing Steve his own. He follows right along, the bright red liquid sloshing up the side. This was something you wanted to say before the old versions of yourself end and the new ones begin.

“A toast to how it’s been and to all the new things we get to love. Including each other” you say and Steve happily clinks the mug against your own as you both tip back the sweet wine since Steve hated dry.

“I’ve loved these days and I’ll love the new ones too” Steve mutters into your neck and you smile and settle against him, finally relishing in the fact you were both sat in your shared living room. A space you and Steve could share while you got big wig jobs and engaged. A space designed for the both of you to grow as a couple who was meant to last forever.

“You think we’ll get tired of each other?” you voice your worries, knowing now that you shared such close quarters you were bound to find flaws within one another.

“Maybe but I’ll always love you more, and isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?” he asks, voice a soft hum into the late night of the barren home. You had a lot of work ahead of you but at this very moment you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“I guess so” you smile, a softness twisting in your gut at how in love you are with this man beside you.

“Wait! I have an idea!” Steve suddenly says, sliding you delicately off his lap and to the ground. He’s up in a second, eyeing the labels of each of the boxes in search of something you’re not sure of. You watch with curiosity, waiting to see what the boy could possibly be up to now.

“Ah-ha!” he lets out once he finds what his looking for, large hands pulling back the folded cardboard pieces and digging inside. It’s when the familiar flash of silver is revealed you realize he’s in search of his boombox.

Finding the outlet Steve makes work of prepping the stereo for some mood music. It’s no surprise when the familiar flash of a Billy Joel album is pulled from the bottom of the box. He grumbled only slightly when he realized he needs to rewind the tape, smashing the button with an annoyed scowl. Yet when the tape finally spins back to the beginning, a grin covers his lips instead, as a familiar song starts to fill the room. Say Goodbye to Hollywood, the classic beginning of Billy’s 1976 album Turnstiles. A true testament to his talent, and one of Steve’s favorites.

“Dance with me?” he asks, hand held down to you on the ground and you don’t even hesitate to clasp your own with his, allowing him to lift you up and into his arms before spinning you around the room.

“Tell me something good?” you ask him, heart thumping softly against his own as you both sway around the living room, the barren walls soon to hold a lifetime of memories.

“The first time I heard this song I was spending the night at my Grandparents. I was nine and we were all in the kitchen making cookies. I remember my Grandma smelling like fresh flowers and the way my Grandpas laugh made you feel safe. Turnstiles had just come out, Billy’s latest album and Grandpa knew I hadn’t heard it yet. So he played the vinyl while I frosted cookies and this song began to play. Now every time I hear it I’m back in that kitchen just happy to have two people who really loved me” Steve says, a soft sadness cast over his eyes and you can’t stop yourself from pulling him close and leaving a soft kiss on his lips.

“I really would’ve liked to meet them” you whisper, hand curling at the back of his neck and fingers grazing the small tufts of hair there. He smiles and gives a soft squeeze to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

“They would’ve loved you. My Grandpa would point out how smart you are, tease me about it too. Ask how I got a girl like you to date a doofus like me. And my Grandma, she would bake you pies and insist on sewing all your clothes when they got old and worn. Talk about how much she wished she had a granddaughter” Steve says like he knows and it’s because he does. They were the two people in his life who always made him feel safe and he knew them better than anyone. It sucked they weren’t here but knowing how much they would’ve loved you is comfort enough.

“I see them in you. In the way you take care of the kids and in the way you love me” you say and the look he gives you is different than any look you have ever received. Your heart accelerates just at the sight and before you can even process it the boy is kissing you like his life depends on it.

“I’m going to love these days too” he suddenly says, pulling back from the kiss a little breathless. A small laugh escapes your lips as he hugs you close.

“Yeah, well I count on having many of them”

Taglist: @slvtforstve @keerygal @goosy-goose @livsters @blckburd @loveshotzz @ohwauwdoritos @superblysubpar @southereads @amataadriana @violet2022 @mxrcjqckspnchqsc @madaboutjoe @thunderstomp-and-tequila @justdamnpeachy @micheledawn1975 @fangfatale @kingstevesgf @notlilyyyy @eddiesguitarskills @palmtreesx3 @momospeaches47 @pbs-theundeadmaggot @xuimhao @lianna75 @lvjmel @sadbitchfangirl @halflifejess @starkleila @ellharrington @avobabe87

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ashisgreedy · 7 months

Text

Lorenzo Berkshire x F!Reader

Taking off your bra: Drabble 🔞

(I got some feedback from my recent HC list about wanting a drabble for Enzo taking off your bra in the mirror ❤️)

MDNI 🔞

Song insp: BØRNS - Past Lives 🎶

Enzo smiles down at you, pressing his forehead into yours. The setting sun bathes the room in a golden hue, bringing out the color of his eyes. The bedroom door is ajar but you’re home alone with your boyfriend and confident no one will interrupt you.

His kisses are soft, sweet, and deeply sensual as his arms slowly wrap around your body to hug you close. He hums into the kiss as your fingers glide through his soft brown hair.

You both giggle as you stumble farther into the bedroom. His strong arms keep you upright while he guides you toward the bed. Enzo’s eyes close as your hands explore under his shirt, pushing until he helps you remove the barrier.

He steps back, shirtless, and regards you for a long moment. He caresses your cheek with the back of his hand, lightly brushing your heated skin. He rains kisses down on your face and laughs with you as you giggle.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Enzo whispers as his lips finally explore your neck. He twines one hand with yours while wrapping his other around your waist.

You know better than to argue and instead give him a small “Thank you.” for the compliment.

His large hand moves down, brushing over your backside while his lips devour your neck and ear. You sway together and he carefully turns you around to face your floor-length mirror.

He smiles, resting his head against the side of yours. He watches you in the mirror while he adjusts your hair out of the way.

“Arms up, please.” He asks while lifting your shirt. The garment is soon discarded on the floor and you're left looking at yourself in your skirt and bra.

Enzo chews his bottom lip while looking at your reflection. You take in a deep breath and watch his chest rise and fall faster than before.

He finally looks down at the real you and presses his lips to your shoulder, kissing the strap of your bra. His finger slides along the opposing one, slipping the strap down to your arm.

Warm kisses pepper your collarbone while he works on the bra’s clasp, punching then popping it open. His hands smooth over the skin on your back that had previously been hidden by the bra.

He kisses your cheek and watches in the mirror as his hands move under the loose bra to cup your breasts. You eagerly help the bra to find its place on the floor and watch his ministrations too.

His chest presses against your back, skin to skin, as his fingers tease your nipples. His breathing is more audible now, faster, and more ragged than before. You feel his apparent desire pressing against your backside as he diligently pleasures your chest.

When you press your hips back against his bulge, Enzo stops and eyes you in the mirror. Your neck is wet from his kisses as your heart gallops in your chest. He unzips your skirt and you help him by removing your panties at the same time.

His sweet gaze turns fiery as his eyes devour your nude form in the mirror. It's moments like this that you store in your memory. No one else will ever see this exact look on his face, just like no one else has ever made you feel this loved and desired before.

You're soon on the bed below him, legs wrapping around his waist. His kisses are heated and passionate as he guides his cock to your entrance. Your body is more than ready to accept him as he carefully pushes inside.

The collective gasp you both make sends him into a frenzy. His thrusts are sensual yet demanding, slow but deep. His arm muscles flex as he holds himself above you. His hair falls in his face as your moans fill the room.

He looks starstruck as he gazes at you. It's a look that says ‘You’re everything to me.’ and ‘I’m in awe of my love for you’. You know loving him will always be effortless and that Enzo feels the same. His words in your ear are that of love and affection, how beautiful you are, and how good you fucking feel.

#lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire #slytherin boys

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aheathen-conceivably · 6 months

Text

🎶 In the desert you can't remember your name 'cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain

It had been months of looking for work, of walking the compacted sands and hot asphalt of Strangerville as Antoine’s hopes dwindled closer to nothing. The most recent shop that turned him away had given him directions to a ranch so deep in the valley he hadn’t even known anything was there before. He had second guessed going at all, wondering if it was a fool’s errand or a disgruntled local’s cruel idea of a joke.

But as he walked onto the plateau that spanned the top of the landscape, his worries melted into stunned silence. It was like a different world, suspended above the one below with vistas so grand he didn’t know they could possibly exist in this world. As though his wonder couldn’t grow, he suddenly heard neighing that he recognized from his fondest memories.

There was no word for the horses other than magnificent, no way for him to express how much they fulfilled every dream he ever had of this place or every feeling of freedom he expected to find here. They seemed to live the way he wanted to, simply existing in the hot desert air without any bounds placed upon their heads.

“Hey, mister! Mister! You looking for work or somethin’?”

Antoine pulled his eyes away from the horses begrudgingly, toward the voice that had spoken to him. It was a lone man across the enclosure, his heavy boots marking every step he took across the sand toward where Antoine stood.

For a moment, Antoine smiled at him. When he left New Orleans he had never expected to see anyone here who looked like him, and the unexpected presence of another black man immediately made him feel more comfortable, “I am, sir. Work on your ranch. I was told you were looking for help.”

Antoine’s relief quickly dissipated as the man narrowed his eyes and spit into the sand, “Well that was before all you Okies started passing through. You know I’ve got a family to feed too right? I can’t just hand out jobs to every straggler who walks by.”

For a moment Antoine went to respond, but he could see the purposefully hardened expression tighten on the man’s face, so he simply tipped his hat and walked away.

Before he could take ten steps a small, breathless child ran in front of him, “Sir, wait! My momma just finished a loaf of bread, if you wanna come inside! She can spare a slice or two and maybe some jam, maybe…”

Before he could finish a loud voice boomed from behind him, “William you leave that man alone, you hear? I’m sorry, mister. My son, he’s a bit soft hearted, I’m afraid.”

Antoine looked down at the boy and smiled, “That’s alright, I’ve got a girl just about your age. Her name is Violette. But you tell your momma to save that bread for someone who really needs it, alright, son? I’ll be just fine.”

The sound of heavy boots approached again, and the man put his arm around his son before looking back up at Antoine, “You ain’t no Okie, are you? Not with that voice. Where are you from, anyway?”

“New Orleans. We have a farmhouse down the way, just before town.”

“New Orleans, huh?” The man looked back down at his son with a whistle, as though the words themselves were foreign and impressive. Then he gave him a quick tap on the back, “Go back inside to your Momma, Will. Tell her I’ll be in shortly.”

As his small feet ran away, the man looked back at Antoine, “Listen here, I’m Abraham. I don’t have much, not enough to guarantee pay week by week, but at least it’s something. And your girl, Violette you said? She’s welcome to eat here if you need. My wife works down at the schoolhouse but she’s a mighty cook. We can get you set up with schooling too. But don’t expect much else; I reckon the pay round here isn’t gonna get much better with time.”

It was a better offer than Antoine had heard since he arrived, and pay seemed inconsequential next to that fact that Violette wouldn't have to go hungry again; maybe she could even have a friend in this lonely and foreign place. He looked down at the the man’s hand extended in front of him and reached out to it like a lifeline, “I’ll take it, sir.”

#1931 #sims 4 historical #ts4 decades challenge #ts4 historical #sims 4 decades challenge #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy #the darlingtons #sims 4 story #ts4 story #1930s #Antoine Duplanchier #William Hines #Abraham Hines

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swimmingismywholelife · 7 months

Text

Noel (No Faith)

Summary: You wanted more from John and he couldn't care less. So why then was he at your door on Christmas Eve?

Warnings: fwb-to-lovers!John, angst, SMUT, arguments, soft domJohn, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), creampie, fingering, pussy licking, playing with nipples, missionary, honestly it's all very soft sex, HAPPY ENDING

WC: 3.8K

A/N: 🎶On the second day of Ficmas my writer gave to me, some angst and smut with dear old Johnny🎶 Hi my name is Janelle and I'm ashamed to say I love John Stones 🫣. The song that inspired this fic is "Noel (No Faith)" by 7 Minutes in Heaven! This is one of, if not, my favorite Christmas song bc it's just so good and I really think you should give it a listen. And this is I think my longest fic to date so I hope you all enjoy!

Link to the Song: Noel (No Faith)

"Noel, Noel, I wish that you would come home for Christmas (for Christmas)

Don't make me wait another year

Noel, Noel, I can't be left alone

You can unwrap the truth, my dear

You're all I want for Christmas this year."

~~~

You sighed with content as you finished putting up the last of the lights on the Christmas tree. You took a step back and smiled, proud of your work. You'd spent the weekend decorating your house, trying to cope with the homesickness of your first Christmas in Manchester away from your family. The star was centered perfectly on the top of the tree, stockings hung on your fireplace (mostly for decoration), and even though it was already Christmas Eve, you were happy to see everything come together. Now you truly felt ready for Christmas.

Well, almost.

Christmas was usually your favorite time of year. But this would be the first year you would be spending it alone. And the first year spending it along with a broken heart. You still replayed the scene in your head every night since it happened. Since the night John Stones left your heart in pieces.

"I don't know why you're mad," John scoffed, rolling out of your bed. "We had an agreement."

"I mean, yeah we did," you said quietly, sitting up.

"So then what's the problem?" he asked, beginning to redress himself.

"The problem, John, is that you treat me more than this agreement was originally supposed to be!" you said exasperated. "You act jealous when I'm around other guys, you basically live with me at this point, you call me even if nothing special is going on just because you wanna hear my voice. What am I supposed to think about that?"

John pinched the bridge of his nose huffing. "Listen, things were outlined pretty clearly when we first started this. You didn't seem to have an issue then, nor last night when you were screaming my name."

"You're full of shit, John, you know that?" you said as tears began forming in the corners of your eyes. "Things can change and feelings can change. And I'm sorry I fell in love with you. I didn't intend to! It just happened and I'm being honest. You've known how I felt and you did nothing but treat me like you wanted it to!"

John sharply turned to face you. "I've been clear from the beginning that I wasn't looking to commit. I wanted some fun and that's what we got and that's all it's gonna be."

"So all of our little outings alone? All of the nights where we poured our hearts out to each other? Inviting me to all your games so I could proudly wear you jersey? That all meant nothing you to you?" you asked.

"Look, if you wanna stop just say so and be done with it," he said.

A tear fell from your eyes.

"I guess that's it then," you said quietly.

Despite the fact that this happened months ago, you couldn't find it in you to move on. John made you feel so special, so different. You knew what the boundaries were when you agreed to be friends with benefits, but you couldn't help but fall in love with him. Every day that went by, you only missed John more.

Still, John didn't have to be such a dick about the whole thing. He was the one you led you on and left that night, not once looking back. It wasn't like you ended with solely unrequited love and he let you down gently. He made you feel like shit for catching feelings, like you didn't matter to him. You felt used and it felt disgusting.

So why did you find yourself missing him more than ever? Why were you holding out hope for him? Why were you still keeping your faith in him when he had no faith in you?

"Please come home," you whispered, looking at the star on top of your tree illuminating the room. You knew your wish was futile, but maybe this year would be your year for a Christmas miracle.

As you turned back upstairs, a knocking on the door stopped you in your tracks. You cocked your head in confusion. It was Christmas Eve and everyone you knew was spending Christmas with their families. You weren't expecting anyone to come visit. You were even more confused when you opened the door to find the very man you'd been wanting to see.

"John?" you said puzzled.

"I know it's Christmas Eve and we haven't spoken in weeks, but I just really needed to talk to you. Is that okay?" he asked, the words rapidly leaving his mouth as his body shook from the cold.

"I-" You hesitated. "I'm not really sure if that's a good idea."

"Please? I just need you to know and if after that you never wanna see me again, then I'll leave you alone," he replied desperately.

Letting the spirit of Christmas overpower your overwhelming urge to kick him in the face and leave him in the cold, you opened your door wider to let him in. John quickly stepped into the warmth of your home, rubbing his hands together.

"Let me start up the kettle for some tea. You wait on the couch and I'll grab you a blanket too," you said, gesturing to the living room he was more than familiar with.

"Thank you, Y/N," he said gratefully.

You took a deep breath as you made your way into the kitchen. "Dude, I know I said I wanted a Christmas miracle, but I wasn't emotionally prepared for this," you muttered to yourself as you filled the kettle with water. Once the stove was on, you grabbed a blanket from your closet for the man sitting in your living room.

"Here," you said, handing it to him.

"You remembered," he said quietly. You almost asked what he was talking about when you saw the familiar checkered pattern on the blanket. You grabbed the first one you saw, not realizing you'd instinctually grabbed John's favorite blanket.

"Truthfully, that was an accident," you said, trying to lighten up the mood. It didn't really work as the air grew awkward and thick, neither of you really knowing what to say.

"Um, I'll be right back and get your tea," you said awkwardly, quickly getting up.

You took your time, trying to mentally prepare yourself for the conversation. Why was he here? What did he want? Why Christmas Eve? So many questions rolled into your mind as you made his tea just the way he liked.

You came back and handed him the mug, John muttering a thanks before sipping on the tea.

"John, why are you here?" you asked exasperated, finally breaking the silence.

"I…" John sighed. "I wanted to talk."

You crossed your arms. "Well, you're here now. So talk."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the tops of his thighs, setting the mug on the table. "I know that I fucked up, really fucked up. And I left you hanging after leading you on for so long." He turned to look at you. "And I just wanted to say I'm sorry for ever treating you so horribly. You've never deserved it and you were right, you can't help how you feel about someone."

"Thank you," you said.

"I thought I'd be fine after walking out that day," he continued. "To me, it really was just a thing that we did and nothing more. But days turned into weeks turned into months and something was wrong. It didn't matter who I tried to get with. I just couldn't do it. Every single girl just reminded me of you. At first, I didn't really I was comparing everyone to you until one day when it hit me. And I haven't been able to stop thinking about you and how you make me feel."

"And how do I make you feel, John?" you asked, curling your legs underneath you.

"Alive. You give me that drive and passion to do what I love, to be a better man. I miss the way you pretended to be asleep just so I would kiss you awake. I miss the way you play with my hair after a long day at practice or a late night game. I miss the way you felt in my arms. I miss the way your eyes light up at the sight of the stupid festive cups at coffee shops. I miss how I didn't have to fear who I was or who I wanted to be because you always brought out the best in me. God, I just miss you so much and I can't believe how stupid I was for not seeing it until you were long gone," he said on the verge of tears.

Neither of you said anything for a while after his confession. The tension only grew thicker as John anticipated your reaction, mentally preparing himself for the worst.

"You still hurt me, John," you replied after a while. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about what you did that day. How you left me feeling used and stupid and dumb. I thought you and I were on the same page and I couldn't have been further from the truth."

John gently took both of your hands in his. You allowed him to gently lace his fingers through yours, shivers running down your spine as he thumbs stroked your hand.

"I know," he said. "I know, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I took you for granted. I'm sorry I didn't appreciate you while I had you. But if you give me a chance, I swear to you I'll make it up to you and show you how much you mean to me."

"John…." you trailed off. "I don’t know. I don't know how I can trust you again after what you did."

He tightened his grip on your hand. "You don't have to give me an answer today. You don't even have to give me an answer for the rest of the year. I'll wait as long as you need. Even if you decide no, I'll still be waiting here for you."

"Johnny, I don't want you to be waiting for me," you said softly. "That wouldn't be fair on you."

He shook his head. "No, Y/N, I'm the one who hasn't been fair to you at all. Waiting is the least I can do for you."

A silence fell, the two of you lost in your own thoughts. John was wondering if he'd been too late to fix things, if his chance was gone. Meanwhile, you were thinking if he even deserved another chance. It had taken you months to even fathom getting over him. Was this a test to see if you truly belonged together? Or was this a red flag that was being blatantly waved in front of you?

All the while, you never thought to release your hand from John's. It felt right for your hand to be there. While your head was in turmoil, it was also the calmest it had been since the day he left.

"Why did you come here tonight?" you asked, breaking the silence. "Why tonight specifically? Why didn't you come earlier or later in the year?"

"Because I know how much Christmas means to you," he replied. "I knew I was risking ruining your holiday, but I wanted to show you that I'm serious about this, more serious than anything I've ever done in my life."

"Will you stay?" you asked him with hopeful eyes, still being unsure of your feelings but not quite wanting him to leave.

"Baby, I'll stay as long as you want me here," John said, looking into your eyes. His hands moved from yours to cup your cheeks. "Would you like me to stay?"

You nodded. "You can stay in the guest room for the night so we can have some space. I'll grab you more blankets."

Too quickly for your liking, you pulled away, his hands lingering on your face just a little bit longer. While you wanted him next to you, it probably wasn't the best idea all things considered. You grabbed some spare blankets, alongside some spare clothes of his you couldn't bare to part with, handing them to him.

"I'm really surprised you still have these," John said.

You shrugged. "I still have everything you gave me quite frankly."

John's heart stopped for a moment. Maybe there was still a chance for you to have faith in him again.

"If you need me, just knock on my door, okay?" you said, leaning against the doorframe.

"I will. Good night, Y/N," he answered.

"Good night, John," you said softly.

You quickly got ready for bed, turning the light off in your room. You made yourself comfortable underneath the warmth of the blankets, but you still felt cold. How could you sleep properly knowing John was next door? Knowing that he wanted you back? You tossed and turned for a few hours, but you knew you wouldn't be getting any sleep that night, especially because you just wanted to be in the comfort of his arms.

You got out of bed to get some water, wanting to walk a bit to clear your head. You opened your door to come face to face with John, whose hand was raised indicating that he was about to knock on your door. You nearly screamed before you realized who he was.

"Jesus Christ, John! You scared the shit out of me," you said panting, putting your hand on your chest.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"That's okay, I only just lost a few years off my life," you joked. "But is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just couldn't really sleep," he answered, "and honestly I just really wanted to see you."

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, not really knowing what to say. You got lost in his eyes, that feeling you've always had with him returning.

Acting purely on instinct, both of you reached for each other, lips smashing desperately against each other. You felt like you could breathe again despite how hard the two of you were kissing. It just felt right that he was there with you. It felt right how his body was perfectly molded to yours.

John closed to door behind you, gently pushing you against it. His kisses were passionate yet still soft and gently, almost like he was afraid to hurt you. His hands were firmly around your waist as yours were around his neck, your fingers running through his hair.

"Jump," he whispered against you.

You obliged, wrapping your legs around him. He walked you to your bed, gently placing you on it as he climbed on top, your lips not parting once. He pulled away only to remove both of your shirts before returning to kiss you. His hands moved to your tits, gently squeezing them. You let out a breathy moan of his name.

"I missed his so much," he said just as breathlessly. "I missed your pretty little moans, baby." He squeezed a little harder, making your moans grow louder. "That's it, Let me hear you, Y/N."

His kisses started trailing down your jaw to your neck, his teeth nipping the skin. Little red marks were left in his wake until his mouth hovered over your nipple. He gently blew on it before taking it into his mouth, making a loud moan leave your body.

"You like that, baby?" John asked.

"Yes, John," you answered, your body squirming underneath him. "I love it so much."

John switched sides, your hands guiding his head there. He sucked harder, causing your hips to roll against his, groaning when your clothed cunt made contact with the bulge under his pants. His lips trailed down once again until he hit the band of the sweatpants you were wearing, noting that technically, they were his.

"Can I take this off, Y/N?" he asked, looking up at you.

You nodded your head frantically. "Yes, please take them off, please."

His hands grabbed the band and pulled down, moaning when he realized you weren't wearing any underwear.

"No underwear, baby? Are you trying to kill me?" he growled.

"It's comfortable, okay?" you squeaked out. "You know I've always preferred it that way."

John licked his lips as he laid his eyes on your pussy, the folds glistening with your wetness.

"Can I-" he started, but you cut him off.

"Yes, yes please!" you said desperately. "I need to feel your mouth on my pussy, John!"

He chuckled before licking your pussy, making you moan, your hands flying to grab his curls. John took his time licking from the bottom all the way to your clit. He repeated this motion several times, loving the way you tugged on him in desperation.

"Fuck!" you screamed when his lips sucked on your clit, your hips bucking into his face. "Fuck just like that!"

He sucked harder as one of his fingers teased your entrance. Your chest was up and down rapidly as your heartbeat quickened. You moaned loudly when his finger entered you, immediately hitting your g spot. He wasn't moving fast, but he was pressing deep into your pussy, making everything more intense.

"That feels so good," you said, "please don't stop. So good."

You hadn't slept with anyone since John. You couldn't possible bring yourself to. The only pleasure you'd gotten was from yourself, meaning your body more sensitive than usual. You felt your release coming fast.

"John, I think I'm gonna cum," you moaned out. In response, John picked up the pace, adding another finger. "I'm right there, baby, I just need a little bit more." John shook his head back and forth as he finger fucked you hard and fast. You screamed out, pulling his head further into your pussy as your release hit you. Your back arched against the bed, John taking one of the hands from behind his head to lace them together. You squeezed his hand as a wave of cum flooded his mouth, John happily licking all of it up.

You brought his face back up to your lips, needing to feel them against yours once again. You moaned slightly at the taste of yourself, John's hand gently cupping your cheek to kiss you deeper. He quickly took his bottoms off guiding his cock to your entrance. He tapped the head against your clit and your hips rolled.

"Is this okay?" John asked. "Are you sure you want this?"

You nodded desperately. "Please John, I need to feel you. Please."

He ran his cock through your folds before slowly pushing in, his body leaning over yours. You almost screamed at the way he was stretching your pussy.

"Fuck, baby, you're so tight," he hissed out. "When's the last time this pussy was touched by someone other than yourself?"

"Not since the day you left," you answered meekly. John's dick got even harder inside you.

"Yeah? This pussy is mine right baby?" he asked, bottoming out and stilling his hips.

"Mhm, all yours," you whined out, your body unable to stay still as he filled you.

"Are you okay?" he asked, looking deep into your eyes. "Do you need a minute?"

"Mhm," you answered. "I'm okay. Are you okay?"

"I'm more than okay, baby," he answered as he stroked your hair lightly, making your heart swell.

"John?" you asked.

"Yeah?"

"Give it to me please," you whispered. "I need it please!"

"I got you, baby," he said, kissing your forehead.

John moved his hips keeping a slow but deep pace. Your legs wrapped around him, needing to feel him pressed against you as you kissed him. John normally had you screaming at the top of your lungs, but this was different. This felt different. Nothing more was needed but breathy moans into each other's mouths, John really only picking up the pace slightly.

"It feels so good, Johnny," you moaned breathlessly. "So fucking good."

"Yeah? Feels good baby, doesn't it?" he asked. You nodded, eyes rolling back. "This pussy was made for me."

"Mhm. So big," you babbled. "Fucks me so good."

"You're taking it so well," he praised softly. "You look so fucking beautiful when you take my cock like this. Like you were meant to be here with me."

Tears started to form in your eyes, making John still.

"Baby, don't cry," he said worriedly. He wiped away the tears that were falling. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I'll stop if you want me to."

You shook your head. "No, don't stop. I've just wanted you to say those words to me. Please keep going."

"Are you sure? We don't have to keep going if you wanna stop," he said unsure.

"Johnny, please," you begged. "I want this. I want you. I don't want anything but you."

"Me too, baby," John replied as he moved his hips, keeping the same deep pace as before. "And I'm sorry it took me this long to realize it." He brought his hands to yours, pressing you into the bed as your fingers intertwined. "Do you hear me? I love you, Y/N. So. Fucking. Much," he said, thrusting as hard as he could to emphasize his words. "And I'm never fucking letting you go again."

"I love you too," you moaned. "I really do."

"I'm close," he said, rubbing your clit.

"Fuck, me too," you said.

"Cum with me, baby. That's it. Cum for me."

You back arched as you had the most intense orgasm of your life, squeezing John's hands as you let out a loud moan. John groaned at the feeling of your pussy clenching around him, triggering his own release. He came deep inside you, gently thrusting to get every last bit of his cum in you.

You both laid there panting for a moment staring into each others eyes, foreheads resting against one another.

"I think that's the hardest I ever came," he chuckled. "I don't think I've ever cum that much before."

"It felt really good," you admitted, "to be filled up like that."

"I love you, Y/N," he said again.

"I love you too, John."

John rolled off of you, getting up to grab a towel to clean you up. He gently ran it over your body, not wanting to hurt you. He cleaned himself before tossing the towel into the laundry and climbing back into bed.

"God, you're beautiful," he whispered to himself in awe of you.

"Will you stay?" you asked.

"Always," he replied.

John looked over at the clock to see it was past midnight.

"Merry Christmas, baby," he said. "Thank you for being the best present I could've ever had."

"Merry Christmas, Johnny. Thank you for coming home," you said, your eyes fluttering shut.

"I wouldn't wanna be anywhere else but with you."

John held you tight that night and every night after that. And you were glad you kept your faith in him. For John Stones was your Christmas miracle and that was all you needed.

Taglist: @thoseboysinblue @neverinadream @chilwellspulisic @lizzypotter14 @pulisicsgirl @lovelynikol16 @notsoattractivearenti @nyctophilic0vitnir @shadowscorch

#john stones #john stones imagine #john stones fic #john stones x reader #john stones one shot #swimmingismywholelife #john stones au #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #footballer one shot #footballer au

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lazyjellyfish300 · 3 months

Note

in my head, the aftermath of your traitor fic is that we find someone better and miguel tries to come crawling back but we’ve already moved on😭😭😭

I CAN NEVER LET A MAN HAVE THE UPPER HAND i always have to come out on top💀

Agreed! This is a situation where I'd definitely not get back with him lol 💀💀💀 Cheating on, and then with you?! No coming back from that. 😬 Here, I made a mini epilogue, themed after White Horse by Taylor Swift. (Sticking with the theme of break up songs like the first part) Don't worry, we get our happy ending but not with Miggy this time :'(.🫶🏽 Word count 916. CW: angst, mention of cheating ,pregnancy, slight suggestive if you squint

----

Traitor mini epilogue

Miguel O'Hara x Fem Spider-Woman Reader

First part

🎶Say you're sorry, that face of an angel comes out just when you need it to🎶

The fiery crimson burns you once again, the familiar look in Miguel's eye propelling you backwards to three years ago when you were driving distraught past his street after he left you for good, only after fucking you while Xina, his supposed soulmate, was out of town.

"I'm so sorry..." He rasps, those full lips of his in a pout that tug at the strings of your heart that once used to beat nonstop only for him. "Come back to me."

You turn around and close your eyes. That's when it all clicks for you. This moment that you prayed would arrive one day finally did. The moment that his begging for you to come back no longer stirred the deepest parts of you, no longer sent an undying ache in your bones. The way he said your name no longer carried any sting. You were free at last.

You shake your head, softly telling him goodbye for the final time, leaving him with his thoughts and his tears, the grip he had on you turning to shadow and mist with every step you took away from him.

The image of you walking away would go on to haunt his dreams every time he dared to slumber. He finally understood the weight of the pain he left you with all those years ago. Now he could watch you as you left, leaving only himself to blame.

🎶And there you are on your knees

Begging for forgiveness, begging for me

Just like I always wanted but I'm so sorry

'Cause I'm not your princess, this ain't a fairytale I'm gonna find someone someday

Who might actually treat me well

This is a big world, that was a small town

There in my rear-view mirror disappearing now

And it's too late for you and your white horse

To catch me now...🎶

----

Captivating seas of baby blue greet you as Ben Reilly flashes you a stunning smile when you walk in. "Hi there, baby..."

You giggle as he hoists you on the countertop, pressing a kiss to your soft belly, laying his cheek against it, humming to the sound of his tiny baby boy stirring inside it. You had hardly begun to show, keeping your tiny bump hidden under a comfy layer of sweatshirts.

Your fingers tangle in his golden locks as he presses soft kiss after soft kiss into your belly, taking this time to worship you. His gorgeous gorgeous goddess carrying his baby.

"You look so good today, love..." he purrs, massaging your tender thighs.

You wave him off with a shake of your head. "I'm exhausted."

He hums, letting his hands run up and down your shoulders. "Let's get you in bed, yeah?"

You nod, wincing a little as he helps you down from the counter. "You okay? Did I hurt you?" He asks, his tone laced with worry as he cradles you like fine china, hugging you against his lean, muscular body as he brings you to your shared bed.

"M'okay Benny..."

"I know my girl... something's on your mind." He crawls in next to you, gesturing for you to come closer as he gets you properly situated on your pregnancy pillow. "Wanna talk about it? Or just rest?"

You let out a tiny groan. "Just saw my ex today, he was begging for me back. I of course told him no. I'm very happy with you, and pregnant." You manage a weak smile as you stare back up into his handsome face. That smile of his was pain relief all on its own.

"As he should..." Ben smirks, pulling you closer, taking care not to compromise your comfortable position too much that he carefully put you in with your body being cradled by the pillow. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that though, sweetheart."

He kisses your hand. "This will never happen, but obviously if I'm ever stupid enough to let you go, I hope you smack me so hard I don't see straight for a week."

You smile, shaking your head as the tip of your nose pressed against his, "I couldn't do that to you...I won't need to anyway..." Your lips meet his in a tender kiss. "You're so good to me, Ben..."

"You're so good to me, angel. I should be the one thanking you..." He whispers, his hands coming down to softly touch your body in every spot that sends a flock of butterflies swarming your stomach. "For loving me, for carrying my baby...for just being you, beautiful."

Your lips meet again, a little extra heated than before, a heavy pant leaves your lips. "Stay with me this afternoon? Don't want you to leave just yet...I need you a little longer..."

Ben smirks, his hands moving gently down your body as he sits up a little more, caging you protectively underneath him, taking care not to squish your delicate growing belly. "As you wish, my lady...I'll stay with you all night. How's that?"

You smile, nuzzling closer into him, the smell of his cologne was faint on his neck, one of the few things that didn't trigger your morning sickness bringing you instead to a state of complete comfort and safety. "Mmm... perfect. I love you..."

"I love you, babydoll...rest for me now, yeah?"

You hum, falling asleep in his arms as he caresses your tiny bump.

#miguel o'hara #miguel atsv #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #ben reilly #ben reilly x reader #scarlet spider #atsv ben reilly

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whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst · 2 months

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My Five Headcanons for Beyond Evil (because I apparently just enjoy 🎶 pain and suffering 🎶)

1.) It’s almost five years before Dongsik can go visit Jeongje in the mental institution on his own. He’s learned what the limits of his mercy are, and so for those first five years he brings people with him when he goes. It’s usually just him and Jihwa, so it’s not bad; they sit together in an atrium open to visitors and talk for a while about what’s new in Manyang while Jeongje sketches. During one particularly bad day, Juwon’s lingering insecurity and guilt complex makes him confront Dongsik over whether his own offers to come along to these visits have been rejected because it would be Dongsik sitting with two reminders of Yuyeon’s death: the son of the man who ran over his sister, and the other man who ran over his sister. Dongsik explains (gently) that his worry is over triggers of a different kind. Because back when they were still flirting with (investigating) each other, he’d called in a few favors to figure out certain sealed parts of Juwon’s family history. During visiting hours, the atrium is full of institutionalized women who are about his mother’s age, as well as their visiting families.

2.) Kwon Hyuk is a survivor. Ambition requires adaptability. He bounces back from setbacks and disappointments (like his mentor/father figure), and he cuts people out of his life if they threaten his progress forward (see: previous). Rich people are tools that can be used or discarded along the way, except for one (1) poor little rich boy with a bad attitude who nevertheless starts calling him hyung one day when he’s fourteen. So while it doesn’t make sense for his career to continue a relationship with a demoted officer who abandons ambition and voluntarily (???) gives up one bad job in a small town for a worse job in a smaller town, deep down Kwon Hyuk knows that he’s hanging on to Han Juwon (hyung’s rules, nonnegotiable, die mad about it Juwonnie).

3.) The first time Juwon laughs—like, fully and genuinely laughs—in front of Dongsik is when they’re at the Chief’s lake-house one evening in early spring. They’ve had a couple of drinks and Dongsik is trying to show a cringing Juwon his interpretation of a Stray Kids dance choreo out at the edge of the water when he accidentally trips over his own fishing line. He stumbles for a few steps then star-fishes into the muddiest part of the water half way through the chorus, but the water’s shallow so he surfaces fast like a playful dog, shaking his hair out cheerfully. He’s just opening his mouth to claim it’s all part of the dance routine when he hears a soft sound from behind him. Juwon has waded into the water with a hand extended to help him up, and he’s laughing, and Dongsik finds himself at a rare loss for words. Juwon’s face is lit up, eyes scrunched and shining, with one arm pressed over his mouth, like he’s used to muffling the sound. So naturally, when Dongsik accepts the outstretched hand and pulls himself up, his next move is to gently tug Juwon’s other arm away from his face so he can get the full view. He has a mental picture of each person he loves, here and gone alike, and for the rest of his life the picture of Juwon that exists in his mind’s eye is of this moment, Juwon standing in front of him calf-deep in muddy water and laughing breathlessly, enveloped in the golden hour haze of the sun setting behind him.

4.) Jihoon accidentally becomes the mayor of Manyang.

5.) Once Han Gihwan finally dies, his life insurance payout is sent to Juwon, who goes wandering in the reeds for a few hours. Dongsik sits in his car on a hill nearby, giving space but making sure Juwon doesn’t ever fully disappear from his sight, and answering Juwon’s phone to field calls on his behalf. Juwon eventually comes back to the car and tells Dongsik that he’s going to use the money as a foundation for a women’s shelter. Dongsik approves, and names the shelter Balsam Flower Home.

#whomst #beyond evil #jwds

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sigyns-drafts · 6 months

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Enchanting music of the night 🎶🌙✨

Human dancer!Reader x Ror Hermes

➩ Stealing the attention of a God like Hermes is the least thing you'd expect as a mortal, but you found yourself with an advantage.

You two had only met once before, now that he was back to seek your attention you decide to tease him and show off your skills in dancing to the lovely melodies he plays to woo you.

➩ Reader type: non binary reader.

⚠: Romantic fluff, a lots of teasing tension~

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this one, I sure did writing it~♡

Underneath the twinkling stars, Hermes approached a figure he knew too well, someone he has kept his eyes upon for quite sometime now.

With violin in hand, he uses his nimble fingers to play a melody that echoed through the divine air of the empty halls, once crowded with life.

A blend of celestial notes that seemed to dance with the night and the God himself.

Y/n turned, their eyes reflecting the glimmering constellations above. They'd always admired the stars.

As Hermes played, he poured his emotions into the music, hoping to catch y/n's attention as well as express the depth of his infatuation with this mortal.

Each note was a whispered confession, and every chord a declaration of his love. However, y/n who was well aware of Hermes' reputation from their previous encounter, responded with a teasing glint in their eyes.

Suddenly they stood up, giving Hermes the attention he wanted. Y/n moved gracefully to the music, matching Hermes' enchanting tunes with a subtle sway of their body.

The air crackled with a playful energy as y/n reciprocated the flirtatious dance of melody and movement.

Hermes, usually the master of wit, found himself enchanted and further drawn to the clever y/n. In an attempt to impress, Hermes approached the enigmatic figure, the soft notes of his violin still somehow playing, filling the air like a gentle breeze.

"Greetings, my dear. Would you care to share a dance with me beneath the stars?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Y/n, with a playful glint in their eyes, replied, "Ah, Hermes, the swift and charming. I've heard tales of your wit. Show me what you've got~"

Accepting Hermes' gloved hand with a sly smile. Together the two gracefully moved as they twirled and spun beneath the cosmic expanse.

Laughter echoed through the halls as the duo enchanted the divine onlookers.

"You play well, Hermes, but can you keep up with the rhythm of my heart?" Y/n teased, their gaze locked with his.

Hermes, smitten and determined, matched their playful banter.

"Oh, my dear, I can dance to the beat of any heart, especially the one captivated by yours y/n."

Y/n to put more logs onto their playful banter leaned in, whispering into the gods air. "Perhaps you're not the only one with tricks up your sleeve, messenger~"

As the dance continued, the celestial pair engaged in a delightful exchange of teasing glances and playful words.

Hermes, usually the master of wit, found himself charmed and challenged by y/n who had effortlessly turned the tables on him.

"I thought you gods were supposed to be untouchable, yet here you are, dancing with a mortal~"

Hermes starts smirking to himself at the comment y/n made. He really needed to step up his game and match their energy.

"Maybe you're just..too irresistible~"

As the music reached a crescendo, Hermes, unable to resist the magnetic pull, pulled y/n out from the dance and into the shadows.

Y/n taken aback by this sudden move blushes deeply, eyes widened.

"What's the rush, Hermes?"

Without a warning Hermes had now pinned y/n up against a nearby wall, out of anyone's sight in the deep dark night. He leaned in close to y/n, almost in a threatening way.

"Sometimes, even gods can't resist temptation..may I, my dear?"

Y/n found themselves for once speeches at Hermes words. Not once in a lifetime did they ever imagine a God, let alone Hermes when they had first met to ever want to pursue them.

Yet, here he was, having just danced with y/n and was now offering a kiss. This was a chance they might not ever get again.

Y/n nodded, giving Hermes the permission he needed for their lips to meet.

The kiss Hermes gave y/n was almost unimaginable, one they'd never forget. His soft lips were warm, their passion once ignited by the dance now consuming them in a fervent embrace.

The world around them faded, leaving only the intoxicating allure of the moment.

Y/n when Hermes finally pulled away, giving the mortal a rest from his passionate kiss, they found themselves breathless.

"Well, messenger of the gods, that was quite the message from you.."

Hermes chuckled softly at y/n and whispered. "Consider it a special delivery of my love to you, my sweetling~"

"Oh my.. Is that a real confession then~?"

"You can call it that, y/n"

As the night continued, the stars and moon bore witness to a dance that transcended mortal and divine to finally find love, leaving the two lost in the enchantment of the night.

#writing #reader x character #reader x canon #romantic fluff #fluff #romantic #non binary reader #nb reader #record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #snv hermes #ror hermes #hermes x reader #ror hermes x reader

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loliwrites · 7 months

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The One You Need | three

🎶 I spent most my life thinkin’ love was out of reach, so maybe just this once, you could be the one I need, if you let me be the one you need🎶

pairing: neighbor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: when you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at an arm’s length, your neighbor Joel finds his way into your life. warnings/tags: au, neighbor joel, age gap [reader is late 20s/early 30s, Joel is late 40s], hyper-independent reader, a bit of a misandrist mindset, men vs boys, dubcon [tagging to be safe] [slight alcohol consumption but neither is drunk], verbal consent received, SMUT, fingering, unprotected p in v sex [wrap it before you tap it, folks], praise kink, slow love, aftercare, vasectomy mention, terms of endearment [sweetheart], female reader, no physical description, protective!joel, soft!joel, dare i say ei!joel, no use of y/n. word count: 5.5k joel miller masterlist | part two a/n: i hope y’all are liking this :) next part may not be out for awhile. gonna figure out what the heck i’m doing with this. tagging @hausofobsession, cuz luv.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

“Please tell me you’re not drunk,” he mumbled against your skin. So tight that it distorted his words and had you humming for instant clarification. He lifted his head and looked back down at you, as if his eyes alone would be able to figure out the answer. “Drunk?”

You ran your hands up to his chest, “on two and a half beers?”

“That’s not an answer,” he let out a breath and drifted his hand from your neck, down to your chest where he gave one of your breasts a squeeze. You noticed at the same moment, he reached around to your ass but avoided it to simply adjust himself in his jeans.

“I’d have to be drunk to want to sleep with you?”

“I reckon it’d help,” he grinned boyishly and bent in again for another tongue-led kiss as though he couldn’t help himself.

You grabbed either side of his face in your hands and curled your fingers into his beard. “Not drunk, just want you,” there was a lack of movement on his end and you weren’t sure if he was short-circuiting or trying to figure out if someone your size could indeed get drunk on two and a half beers. Either way, you tapped his ribs, “now, if possible.”

Like a spurred horse, he got to it. Scooped you up and held you against him with both arms hooked beneath your thighs. He let out a labored breath when he lifted you up and stood from the couch, as if he wasn’t sure he’d make it fully upright. The noise emitted from him made you doubt that as well.

“Heavy?” You asked, burying your own lips to his neck, this time to avoid his answer. There was a delay in his response, which you only noted because when he spoke again, he’d managed to rise completely.

“No, sweetheart, it’s not you. I got a fucked up back,”

You pulled back and looked at him with a smirk as he began to walk, “old man.”

He managed to side step his t-shirt so as to not trip over it, and started down the hallway. “Yeah. But I don’t think you’re gonna be disappointed,”

Your cheeks got hot, partially by his words and partially by his display of strength. You’d never felt more secure being in a man’s hands. That he had you. Steady. Safe. “I need to get you that horn to toot,”

Joel only smiled, adjusting his hold on you to keep you upright with his forearm as his other hand moved to turn the doorknob and give you both access to his bedroom. The silence gave way to more kissing. He cupped his hand around your jaw and kept you at an angle that accommodated his tongue pressing its way back into your mouth. Slowly, you were being lowered and your backside hit the mattress which prompted you to open your eyes. But that did you in and sent a white hot flash between your legs. Joel stood over you, chest rising and falling gently as he became laser-focused. He brushed the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip and suppressed a smile when it made you part them. But instead of lingering there, he moved his hand to the back of your head and gently took a handful of your hair, close to the scalp, and eased your head back as far as it would go. You whimpered and pressed your thighs together to try and stave off the arousal you knew was pooling in your panties.

“Y’wanna get naked for me?” He asked, his voice low and gravelly.

That also didn’t help the situation between your legs. You nodded, but then remembered he preferred to hear it, “yeah.”

His eyes drifted to your lips quickly and then shot back up to yours. With a quick peck, “go on, then.”

He took a step back and dropped a hand back down to the front of his jeans, palming himself. With the hesitation on your end, he clicked his tongue against his teeth to get your attention again. Your eyes focused on him, then started the plight of removing your clothes from yourself while trying not to get too far in your head about it while he just stared – ogled – at you. Your shirt was the easiest hurdle to get over so you pulled it over your head and set it beside you on the bed. Joel’s eyes seemed to light up at your now exposed chest. The bra was nothing special, and upon realizing that, a new spark of embarrassment ignited in you. Not having planned this, the bra was less than “sexy” and you knew your underwear was even less so. And they didn’t match. Not nearly. That was the reason you rid yourself of your bra so quickly. Maybe he’d forget what it looked like by the time you were down to your underwear.

Joel groaned once your chest was completely free from its constraints. His shoulders seemed to hunch forward and his hand pressed harder against his crotch. Even as your fingers went to your pants to nimbly undo the button and zipper, he closed the gap between you and wrapped one large hand around the front of your neck. Again, he used no pressure to it, more of just an anchor so he could kiss you and nibble on your lip.

You reached down, trying to remain in place to allow his kisses to continue, while also trying to rid yourself of your pants. He caught on to the jerkiness of your actions, and helped you out of your tight jeans until he managed to get them past your feet and completely off. Now as he stood in front of you, your hands went for his belt, shakily undoing the buckle until you could finally yank it out of the loops.

He watched your progress as you went for the button, “don’t have a condom, but I could just go dow–”

“I’m on birth control,” you said off-hand, not even bothering to look up at him. Button undone and making short work of the zipper, you nudged his jeans down past his hips and the curve of his ass.

Joel grabbed your wrist when you reached back to rub the outline of his member in his boxer briefs. “Not for that. I’m snipped,”

Your eyes shot up to him.

He pressed a grin, “only way you’re getting a baby from me is if you’re the virgin Mary. I don’t have anything, but…”

“Me either, let’s get to it.” You scooted further back on to the bed, laying against the pillows. But he didn’t follow you right away and seeing his questioning look, you jumped the gun. “Unless you’re lying and I actually need to get you a full STD panel,”

That seemed to rile him enough to crawl on the bed to you. “I’m not lyin’ to you,” he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and tugged them down. Instead of keeping his gaze on you, he glanced down at his progress and the damp spot on the cotton fabric that sold you out. He smiled up at you, obviously proud of himself.

The urge to smack that smile off his face was strong. You thought about doing it, and like he could read your mind, he rested his weight on top of you, hips and legs spreading you apart, and grabbed hold of your wrists, tugging them up above your head. He gave you a look, and convinced you’d leave your hands where they were, he loosened his grip and began kissing down your body. First your lips, paying them the sort of attention that made you think he wouldn’t get to any other part. Then his tongue trailed down to your neck, and he sucked on your soft skin there, seemingly dissatisfied until he felt he’d done enough to leave a bruise. A mark that when you’d look in the mirror later, would remind you of what was to come. To remember the way his lips migrated further, to your chest, kissing and circling his tongue around your nipple while his fingers toyed with the other. Only to switch and do the same to the other. You moaned and rut your hips up into him, vying for any friction or anything that would spur him into hurrying. But he was slow with his movements. Each one calculated and deliberate. So that by the time you even realized he was kissing your lower stomach and hip bone, your body tensed up and you lowered one hand, curling gentle fingers around his ear.

“Joel,” you hummed, though his ministrations didn’t stop, and you couldn’t help but understand that your utterance of his name did sound eerily similar to a moan to continue. He kissed just a touch lower and dragged his tongue over the skin where the elastic of your panties had left a mark. “Joel, you don’t have to,”

He let your words sink in for just a second before he kissed your hip once more and lifted his head, “I want to…” he glanced down at your legs as you shifted beneath him, trying to close them. Grasping your hesitancy – or discomfort – with that, he relented and looked back up at you, “maybe next time.”

You nodded and silently thanked the heavens above that he let it go at that and made a quick line of kisses back up your stomach, past the center of your chest and then back to your lips. “Fingers?” He whispered into your neck, resting on his side next to you. His hands continued their dance over your skin.

“Just fuck me,” you pleaded and turned your body into him, slinging a leg over his hip to give him access again.

He smiled and leaned up on his forearm, looking down over you, making you feel smaller than you already were compared to him. “This is not me tooting my own horn, but I don’t want to hurt you,”

“Joel,” you whined and rubbed yourself along the outline of his shaft, knowing he’d feel the wetness through his underwear that you’d left behind.

He pouted at you as if jokingly agreeing with your heady whine. “Thing is sweetheart,” he said and kept his gaze on your face even as his fingers drifted lower. He could tell you were hyper-aware of it though you also kept your focus on his eyes. “Two and a half years is a good bit of time,” he ran his middle finger through your slit, biting back a moan of his own, as a silent one seemed to leave your slackened mouth. After circling your entrance but putting no pressure on it, he brought his finger back up to your clit and suppressed another grin when your legs flinched, “and I don’t think the boys you’ve been with ever did a good job.” He kissed you gently and circled his fingers over your bundle of nerves. This time that earned him a new response in the form of your entire body shuddering. Catching your reaction, he lowered his forehead against yours, “your pleasure’s my only priority right now, so we’re gonna make it good.” Joel lifted his head and looked down at his hand and the way your hips lifted to meet it. “Look at you all wet for me. Barely had to do anything and I’ve got you drippin’.”

You rolled forward and buried your face in his chest, sparing yourself from the eye contact he searched for. A laugh rumbled through his chest, and all you could do to keep from falling apart was roll your hips into his hand harder.

“How about one?” he looked at you despite only being able to see the side of your head, and notched his finger at your entrance. He felt you nod against his chest, but that reaction had him moving his finger away and opting to cup your sex. “Can I see your eyes,”

You turned your head and looked up at him, “you’re killing me.”

“Well, if ya’ listened to me like a good girl, we’d be on our way. But you’re bein’ stubborn, and I’m not out to hurt you,” he made sure you read him loud and clear. “Now can I put my fingers in you or not,”

But this was what you expected from guys. To gear up for a fight. So your body kicked it into overdrive and you pushed on his chest. “If you listened we’d be on our way because I’ve already said yes three–”

In one fell swoop, he took his place back on top of you and slung one of your legs over his forearm as it rested on the bed by your hip. The move kept you open for him, and left you speechless. If you hadn’t been turned on before, that had surely done it.

“We were having such a good time, and now you’re being a brat,” he smirked knowing he had the upper hand, and laid his fingers back at your entrance. “Can I put my fingers inside you or not,”

“Yes!”

This time there was no delay between your answer and the feeling of him sliding his middle finger into you, going relentlessly until he’d gotten it all the way down to the last knuckle. Your jaw fell slack again and your eyebrows furrowed together, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Like that?” He asked when he curled his finger inside you, against your front wall.

“Yes,” you cried out, elongating the end of the word and writhing beneath him. Only a few quick thrusts of that finger alone before he pulled it out and set forth with his ring finger included. Your eyes were locked on to his, though his gaze alternated between your face and your core.

Fingers hard at work, when he looked back into your eyes, he saw them glazing over. Your mouth was open, letting out silent moans, and from that he realized the steady rise and fall of your chest had paused. He smiled to himself and lowered his head, planting a wet kiss to your sternum. “Breathe, sweetheart,”

You gulped in a breath of air, hearing an animalistic growl come from Joel’s throat when your inhale resulted in your anatomy squeezing around his fingers which had yet to cease their constant thrusts in and out of you. “Please, Joel, I can’t…” your breath caught in your throat when he curled both of his fingers inside you. “I need you,” your claws came toward his chest and scratched down his skin, trying to get him as physically on you as possible.

His fingers slowed, “you’ll tell me to stop if it hurts?”

In chasing a high, with blurred vision and your pulse pounding in your ears, and brain fog that overwhelmed you, you shook your head no.

Joel laughed softly and slowly eased his fingers out of you, shushing you when you whined. “That wasn’t the right answer,”

“Please, please. You’re killing me,” you repeated.

“You’ll stop me if it’s not good,” he reiterated.

“You’ll be the among the first to know,”

He kissed you once. Twice. And on the third, sat back on his knees just to lower and pull off his underwear. With it also discarded off the side of the bed, he slotted himself back between your spread legs. You only had a moment to catch a glance of his member, and it instantly set in a whole new batch of nerves. He’d be the biggest you’d ever taken, perhaps exceeding in length and girth than any other boy in your repertoire. And the thought of what that would do to your body was equally anxiety-inducing and thrilling.

Out of the corner of your eye, you thought you noticed him evaluating your expression, but not catching your direct eye contact, he reached between your bodies and lined himself up with you. Notched his head against your entrance, “good?”

“Yeah,” you murmured and immediately took your lower lip between your teeth, bearing down for what was to come. Joel couldn’t help but think that was you preparing for an unpleasant, and perhaps, downright painful experience. He took a beat to steady himself before he slowly pressed forward, urging himself in.

He felt the first hint of resistance at the same moment your mouth twisted into a wince. Joel pulled his hand out from between you and set it at your hip for leverage while the other went to your neck. His fingertips pressed to the back of it and lifted your head just enough for him to kiss your lips with urgency. Hips dipping into you a little more until about half his length was sheathed inside you, he pulled back to look down when your jaw dropped open and out came the squeakiest of whimpers.

“Y’alright?” Joel stilled his hips, waiting for the go-ahead.

You squinted your eyes shut, feeling them burn with tears. “Yeah,” you gasped out, “you’re big,”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he lowered his head and licked at your neck. “You’re so tight,” he pulled his hips back before slowly thrusting back into you, still only getting halfway of his length in. “But you feel so good,”

“More. Deeper,”

Joel studied your face as he obeyed your command, pushing further until he’d sunk all the way into you, bottoming out. And the way your muscles spasmed around him almost ended him. He bowed his head forward against your shoulder and took a deep breath in through his nose.

“Joel, move,” you pleaded, still pulsing around his length.

He nodded, not lifting his forehead off your shoulder, “I will, just give me a second.”

You reached around his torso and dragged your hands down his back to his ass, “something wrong?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna come,” he admitted, sucking in another deep breath. “Don’t even start. Just… say something about football,”

“I don’t know anything about football,”

That got him to lift his head. And suppressed whatever urge was rising in him enough so that he could pull his hips back and snap them into you again. His speed picked up, sending you upward on the bed. You both pressed a hand to the headboard in the effort of keeping you from hitting it, but even with the abundance of caution, his thrusts got more forceful. It felt like he was splitting you in two, swearing you felt him up in your stomach. And with each particularly deep thrust, the head of his cock pressed against your cervix.

It had you moaning and whimpering in an endless stream, and just when you didn’t think you could take more of it, he lowered his mouth to your ear and started whispering to you. “Takin’ me so well. ‘Atta girl. Wrap your legs around me,” he waited until you did so. Ankles hooked together behind him and you let out a deep, guttural moan. “So fuckin’ tight, aren’t you?”

You nodded breathlessly, very quickly losing control of your senses and body.

You fluttered around him and he growled. “This pussy’s so good,” that earned him another round of clenching from your needy center. “I feel you squeezin’ me, sweetheart,” he emphasized that with another hard thrust. “I’m gonna make you come, but I need you to do me a favor,” his kissed just below your ear.

“Anything,” you moaned. “Anything you want,”

Well if that wasn’t just music to his ears. He moved one hand beneath your hips and lifted them just slightly off the bed to enter into you at a different angle, and placed his other at the back of your head, grabbing onto a fistful of your hair. “Touch yourself for me,”

Eyes blinking open while you simultaneously nodded, you thought you’d just come undone then and there. The way Joel was looking at you became even more overwhelming when you lifted your hand to your mouth and licked your fingers, before lowering them to your waist. Joel moaned and for the first time his hips faltered. You knew he was as close as you were. With the first touch of your fingers on your clit, your legs squeezed around his hips tighter and refused to let him go. Why no boy before had enlisted you to help along with your pleasure, you didn’t know. If anything, they had been offended you needed to. But not Joel. Not this man.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he whispered, staring right at you. It gave you nowhere else to look but back into his eyes. “Good girl,” he hummed, both very aware of the way you throbbed around his shaft with the praise. “You wanna come for me?”

You nodded immediately, feeling heat pooling between your legs and in your stomach.

“Want you to soak me,” he bit your jaw softly, “come all over my cock.”

“Joel,” you whimpered. The muscles in your legs and stomach flexed and released in steady procession. You could barely hear him over the pounding in your ears. It was also nearly impossible to focus on anything other than the weight of him on you and in you that accentuated the building pressure inside you. “Joel, please,” you managed to choke out.

His hold on the back of your head grew gentler and he lifted your head toward him. “You can let go, I got you,”

“Joel,” you cried out again.

“I promise. I got you. C’mon, come for me,”

His thrust paired with your slick fingers over your clit was your undoing. You buried your face in his neck, entire body stuttering beneath him. His hips slowed but they never stilled completely while you rode out your orgasm; the first given to you by a man, and one that seemed to take blissfully forever to subside. Your body twitched and your breathing hitched for a while longer until it finally went limp beneath him. You sucked wind to get your breath back.

Joel bit back a moan, “can I keep going? I’m close,”

“Yes, please, don’t stop.” You managed to pull yourself together enough to realize that he’d talked you through your climax, and now it was your turn to do the same for him. “You feel so fucking good inside me. So big, stuffing me full,”

His gaze caught yours as if he hadn't expected you to pick up like this. But you just smiled, leaned in, and licked a broad stripe up his neck. With your orgasm behind you, you unhooked your ankles behind him and let your legs fall wide down to the bed. His thrusts got less rhythmic as he chased his own high.

“Give it to me,” you whispered again, “gimme everything you got.”

“Where?” He groaned when his abs flexed involuntarily.

“Anywhere you want,”

He groaned and sat back on his knees, pumping into you in earnest. You reached for your breasts and squeezed them, your body bouncing and writhing beneath Joel; which he had a full, unobstructed view of now. It didn’t take long, just a few extra sloppy thrusts from him until he unsheathed himself from you and stroked his hand up and down his length in quick procession. Keeping your eyes on his, as he held eye contact, you chewed into your bottom lip when he let out a deep, hearty groan and moments later felt his spend decorating your stomach and waist. His gaze had left your face and shifted down to your body. A few ragged breaths filled his lungs before he leaned back over you with hands planted on the bed on either side of you.

His kisses were slow now. A stark contrast to how frantic they’d been at the start. And with far less tongue. Though it did still search for entrance back into your mouth.

You smiled against his lips and scritched your fingers through his hair, “good?”

“Fuckin’ fantastic,” his eyes opened when you giggled. He kissed you once more, then rolled over onto his back beside you and turned his head, “good for you?”

With an enthusiastic nod, “definitely.”

He smiled breathlessly and looked back up at the ceiling inhaling a couple deep breaths to steady himself. But just as you opened your mouth to say something, to congratulate him on being the first man to get you to finish, he groaned and pushed himself out of bed. After pulling a new t-shirt from his dresser and a quick search for his underwear, which he pulled back up his legs and settled around his waist, he wordlessly went for the bedroom door and left you in the room alone. He was out before you had gathered your senses enough to question him.

Even the worst of your lovers had stuck around for more than a couple minutes afterward. Certainly didn’t remove themselves from the room. Sure they hadn’t gotten you off, but the one that had, just left you with a feeling of being used and a growing soreness between your legs. You took and held a deep breath, blinking rapidly to keep any frustrated tears from falling. Great. The guy you decided to let in is a runner.

After a minute and feeling that your legs wouldn’t completely give out from under you, you carefully pushed yourself out of bed as to keep the aftermath of his orgasm off the furniture. Though you weren’t sure why you cared so much. He clearly didn’t. The search for your bra and underwear turned out to be harder than expected, until you’d found them tossed to his side of the bed. The only focus was to get out of there as quickly and quietly as possible. Pretend it’s nothing and get out of there.

“You’re leaving?”

Your head snapped up upon hearing Joel’s voice, and you found him in the doorway with a glass of water in his hands.

You snatched up your pants, “yeah, I’m gonna go home.”

“Why?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused.

“You left and I feel a little in the way so…”

You picked up your shirt, the last item you needed. Joel looked dumbfounded, and it wasn’t until you neared him to exit, that he pressed his free hand against your stomach gently. “I went to get you some water. And pull some things out for you in the bathroom,”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to make sense of his words, then noting that the glass of water he had was meant for you. “You left so I though you wanted–”

“I thought you might feel more comfortable getting cleaned up and going to the bathroom first.” He removed his hand from your stomach and reached to take the pile of clothes out of your arms. “Come back to me, okay? I don’t want you to go,”

“You sure?”

He nodded, “I know you’re probably good, but I need to cuddle after sex or I start to feel like a piece of meat.” He caught your hands as you tried to swat at him, and he stepped aside, patting your ass, “I’ll be waitin’ for you.”

Nodding and carrying on into the bathroom down the hall, you nearly burst into tears when you saw just what he’d been up to. You’d taken his leaving as a sign that he was no better than any other guy you’d slept with, but was once again shown that he wasn’t like the others. The shirt he’d taken from his dresser was there, waiting for you to claim. A warm, wet washcloth had been placed beside the sink for you, along with a pack of unscented wipes. Your cheeks got hot at the thought – Joel Miller cared about your delicate pH balance.

You went about your business, wiping his spend away with the washcloth, cleaning yourself up, and each moment growing more restless to be back in bed with him. The more you thought about it, the more dangerous you felt it’d become. What if you couldn’t keep your hands off him?

Coming back down the hall and re-entering his bedroom in nothing but his t-shirt, you were blessed with the image of Joel laid back in bed in his boxer briefs. He was staring absently at his hands in his lap, but when he noticed you’d returned, a wide grin crossed his face. He held his arm out to the side as if creating the spot you’d so nicely fit into. And you did. Crawled up the length of the bed and tucked yourself into his side, head resting on his chest. You wrapped an arm around his torso, giving it a squeeze for good measure to keep him close. Once you were situated, he lowered his arm around you, settling it over your ass. There was comfortable silence for a couple minutes. Nothing but the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the softness of his breath. He punctuated the end of the silence with a kiss to the top of your head.

“I really enjoyed that,” he mentioned.

“Me too,”

“Is that going to be the only time I get to enjoy it or do you think it’s something we might get to do again?”

But this time, all you did was shrug and it didn’t necessarily put his heart at ease. And despite knowing that wasn’t the answer he hoped he was going to get off the bat, he didn’t press for a definitive answer.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Not getting the sense it had anything to do with pressing his previous case, you tilted your head back and looked up at him.

He smiled softly and dragged his fingertip down the bridge of your nose, “is there a reason you didn’t want me to go down on you?”

“Yes,”

“Okay,” he nodded and squeezed your ass softly; a sign that that was all he wanted to know. The reason didn’t necessarily matter.

But he was being gentle and soft, and in the afterglow of sex, you didn’t quite care if he knew the reason. “It requires more intimacy,”

He smiled, “more than me being inside you?”

You nodded and Joel gathered you were entirely serious. “It’s easy for me to disconnect myself from my body when it’s just… penetration,” you mumbled, thinking he’d laugh at the term like a teenager. But instead, his expression remained even. “It’s harder for me to do that with oral so it feels more vulnerable,”

Joel shook his head. Silent reassurance that you didn’t need to convince him of anything. “I understand,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “And I know faking orgasms is in the women’s handbook of physical intimacy, and I’m not disillusioned enough to believe a woman’s never faked it with me, but… I hope you didn’t,”

Your heart beat heavy in your chest, threatening to break out of your ribcage. You stretched upward until he was close enough to kiss, and then you did so, curling your fingers in his beard. Only when you pulled away, “I didn’t.”

He grinned and pulled your leg over his waist. “You wanna stay tonight?”

And you knew it was going to be another answer he didn’t want to hear. You knew you were going to break his heart. And yet you said it anyway, “no I should go home in a little bit,”

He did his best to hide his disappointment, and you hardly saw any of it before he nodded in acceptance.

Fifteen minutes later after thinking maybe you’d change your mind, you and Joel were dressed again – you still in his t-shirt – as he walked you back to your house. Though he had reached for your hand, you dodged it in fear that nosy neighbors would see you. It was bad enough they could see him walk you back to your place at this hour.

At your door, Joel silently watched you unlock it and nudge it open. He pressed a smile in your direction once you turned back to him.

“Thank you,” you whispered, “for tonight. And for fixing my fridge,”

“‘S’nothing,” he insisted and leaned into you. His hand found a spot behind your head as he backed you up against the door jamb, being saved by the back of his hand rather than knocking into the wood.

The kiss he gave you felt different than all the other ones had felt tonight. Yes, it was slow. But previously, the slow ones had felt like the unhurried motions of a doting lover. This one felt like he was making it last for as long as he could for he might never get another. You placed a hand on his stomach, feeling your legs turn wobbly. By the end of the kiss, you swore you would’ve fallen over if it weren’t for his steadying hands.

Once parted, you backed into your house and gave him one last smile before you shut and locked the door. But hidden inside, you ran to the living room to spy on him and found that he had remained in place by your door; one hand propped up against the jamb. He breathed a couple quiet breaths before turning and descending your porch steps and slowly returning to his home.

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