#and a good Thursday ahead 💕

[joelscruff]

feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART SEVEN

previous chapters | welp. it's here. this one is a DOOZY, and i'm so sorry. i never expected it to get this long but oh well!!! go grab a snack and get settled cause this one is kinda wild. love u guys sm. i proofread this very quickly so i apologize if there's any mistakes!! and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip 💕 chapter summary: the pressure is building in more ways than one. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: age difference (joel is in his 50s, reader is in her early 20s), innocent/inexperienced reader, praise kink, dirty talk, pet names, mentions of religion, catholic guilt, sexting, n00ds, oral (m receiving), lap-sitting, thigh riding, alcohol, lemme know if i missed any! word count: 15.6k ao3

You're beginning to learn that Joel runs hot and cold.

There have been moments with him, intimate and special and warm, moments that make you feel light on your feet and send butterflies wilding through your stomach. Moments where he's open and present and wants all his attention to be on you, on your body, your pleasure. His touch sets you alight, his words send tingles down your spine.

And then weekdays happen and you start second guessing yourself all over again.

On Sunday you'd attended church with your parents, another attempt at appeasing your mother in lieu of all the lies and deceit. You've only gone to a select few services since you came home, something you know they've been silently judging you for and just waiting to hold above your head. Admittedly you'd been afraid of bumping into people you knew, having to switch on your teenage persona of Good Catholic Girl™ and lie through your teeth about how good it feels to be back home again. Luckily in the few services you'd attended, you'd only run into some elderly family friends, managing to avoid anyone you went to high school with.

Your luck had to run out at some point, though. This service you'd been accosted by none other than Bethany, one of your childhood friends who you'd practically left in the dust when you'd gone away for college. Her friendship was always full of judgement, perfection, and not to mention heaps of Catholic guilt. She'd taken one look at you, appraising you up and down as if assessing you for imperfections, then pulled you into a tight hug.

"It's so good see you," she'd said when she'd pulled back, a wide - and borderline frightening - grin plastered on her face, "My momma told me you were back, thought I woulda heard from you by now!"

Your mother, standing beside you in your pew, had furrowed her brow at this, clearly confused. You hadn't understood her reaction completely until Bethany had headed off to go say hi to someone else.

"I thought you had lunch with her and Alice the other week," she'd murmured softly to you under her breath, giving you an accusatory look, "Said you'd be helping them out over the summer. That's what you told me, anyway."

Fuck.

"O-oh, right," you'd had no idea what else to say other than that, biting down on your lip and staring straight ahead as the service began. She hadn't said anything else about it, but you'd sat in discomfort and anxiety for the next hour.

In a panic, you'd found Bethany after the service and quickly asked if she needed any extra help at Sunday School, to which she'd responded with enthusiasm - a little too much - that they always needed extra hands on Thursdays to help with lesson planning. You'd jumped at the chance, telling her you'd be there.

That night you'd texted Joel. You hadn't heard from him all day despite it being a weekend, and part of you had been hoping you might go over and see him once your parents were asleep.

guess who's volunteering at church now? this idiot.

You'd expected words of comfort, maybe a joke, at least something that would make you feel better about the situation. However, his response to yours had been brief, short, simple:

Rough. Get some sleep x

This trend of short responses has only continued throughout the rest of the week. He's distant when you text him, responds with a few words at best, short and simple and almost like an entirely different person. It's hard to believe it's the same man who whispers good girl in your ear and tells you how well you're doing, how wet you are, how pretty you look. His texts are some ghostly version of him, constantly fading in and out, barely showing interest or desire - that is, if he texts you at all.

It makes your skin itch, sends your insecurities into a tailspin. Why does this always seem to happen? You can't make heads or tails of it - you know he's busy, know that his job takes a lot out of him, and yet you can't help but feel that there's something more he's not telling you. He'd told you on his back deck all about how he wasn't very happy at his job, how he'd prefer to be retired by now, living life on his own terms - so why can't he just do that? It's clearly taking a toll on him, and while part of you feels empathetic and yearns to comfort him, another part feels angry, irritated.

You'd gone to your friends with these concerns, hoping for some sort of answer or solution to the problem. Instead, they'd been more sympathetic to Joel's plight than yours.

you gotta remember you're not in a relationship with him babe

right!! men are v simple creatures. they see things black & white. ur his fuck buddy and he prob doesn't rly want it to go beyond that.

now THAT'S going too far. she's more than his fuck buddy definitely. he wouldn't have told her his whole life story last weekend if that were true.

telling her he had a fucked up childhood isn't necessarily his whole life story. most guys had shitty childhoods lbr

but he opened up!!!!! fuck buddies don't do that.

exactly

i wish you guys were here :(

i'm honestly 5 secs away from booking a flight to texas bestie. gotta use my dad's frequent flier miles somehow.

--

"My friend Tasha is coming to visit this weekend," you tell your mom on Wednesday evening with a smile, turning your phone toward her to show the Airbnb you'll be staying at, "We're gonna stay at this little bungalow, have a girls' weekend."

Her brow furrows, "Why can't Tasha stay here?"

Because Tasha would terrify you, you want to say, because Tasha doesn't wear pants unless absolutely necessary. Instead you just smile again and say, "I think a change of scenery would be good for me, it'll be like a mini vacation. Plus there's a hot tub."

"Now that's something we need," she turns back to her book with a shake of her head, "I swear, your father is more interested in buying that boat we'll never use instead of something new for the backyard." You hadn't been asking for her permission, but her indifference sends a wave of relief through you; you've still been trying to be on your absolute best behavior lately to make up for the lies.

You head out to the backyard and seat yourself in a lounge chair by the pool, unlocking your phone again and swiping to your last conversation with Joel from last night.

hope you had a good day :)

I'm sure yours was better. Sleep well x

Curt and to the point, not at all what you'd wanted him to reply with. You recall one of your first phone conversations, the one where you'd been experiencing the same lack of interest in his texts, what he'd said to you: Don't think for one second that I don't think about you. But how can you not? How are you supposed to feel desired when he's being like this?

can you call me tonight?

You try not to wait too long before biting the bullet, not wanting to talk yourself out of it, but you do stare at the message with your finger hovering over the send button for longer than you really need to. The sound of the back door sliding open forces you to send it, locking your phone again as your mother walks over and seats herself beside you in another chair.

"It's nice to see you wearing that again," she says with a nod to your chest, referring to your crucifix - after wearing it again last weekend you'd thought that keeping it on might please her. "You're starting to really settle in here again, aren't you?"

You try not to grimace, "Yeah, it's nice being home."

She leans back in her chair, letting the suns rays hit her for a little bit without speaking. You sit there waiting for her to say something else, discomfort flooding through you. You're reminded of how easy it was to sit with Joel in his backyard last weekend, how little pressure there was to put up any kind of front - sitting here with your mother is the exact opposite.

"So, you lied to me," she finally says, voice quiet.

Your eyes widen and you sit up a bit, turning to her with panic already rising in your throat, "Wh-what do you mean?"

She doesn't turn to look at you, continuing to stare at the sky, eyes covered by her comically large sunglasses, "You know what I mean."

You sit there, staring at her with a mix of confusion and fear. There's no way she knows about Joel, how could she know? Who would have told her? You wonder if perhaps one of her neighborhood friends saw you leaving his house, saw you in his car... but the guise of lessons is your cover now, so how would any of that point to your relationship?

Some relationship, you can't help but think to yourself, based entirely on sex and only communication on the weekends.

"Bethany and Alice," your mom finally states, and you feel the panic in the pit of your stomach loosen immediately - oh.

"Mom," you say immediately, shaking your head, "I-I know. I'm sorry. I know I told you we met up but..." you bite your lip, trying to come up with some kind of excuse but coming up empty.

Instead, you do something that surprises you entirely - you tell the truth. Or at least... half of it.

"I really feel like my friendship with them has passed," you admit with a frown, "I'm... I'm different than I was when I left, you know that, don't you? I'm sure you've noticed."

She's still not looking at you but you catch her nodding slowly, thoughtfully.

"I'm sorry I lied but... I didn't want to disappoint you. And I didn't want you to worry about me being alone all the time. I'm actually rarely ever alone at college so it's been nice to have some time to myself," you smile, thinking of the girls in your group chat constantly waiting for new updates, "Having lunch with two people I haven't talked to in years just... didn't seem appealing to me. I have different friends now, you know? I'm older, people outgrow each other."

"Friends like Tasha," your mom states, bitterness in her voice, "Tasha who you don't even want me to meet."

You make a face, "Mom..."

She puts her hands up in defeat, shaking her head, "It's fine. You can do what you want and so can she," the words are drenched in judgement, "But you should remember that there are rules for staying here, young lady. And honesty is one of those rules."

You take a deep breath, swinging your legs around the edge of the chair and placing your arms on your knees, your face in your hands. You're so close to snapping back at her, making a comment that'll surely start an argument, but you shove it back down as best you can, counting to ten in your head.

"I'm sorry," you finally say through gritted teeth, "It won't happen again."

"It better not." She stands up then, disappears from the chair as quickly as she'd settled in it. You watch as she walks to the back door again, reaches for the handle.

Your mouth can't stop itself.

"Have you told Dad about my guitar lessons yet?"

She freezes, turns and stares at you for a moment without saying anything, then opens the door and heads back inside, slamming it behind her.

Checkmate.

--

I will when I get home.

Your anxiety is through the roof as you pace back and forth in your bedroom after darkness has fallen, freshly showered and pampered and already out of distractions. Without really thinking much about it, you pull Joel's flannel from under your mattress and wrap it around your shoulders, breathing him in as you sit on your bed and try your best not to keep checking your phone. When it finally vibrates you're not even embarrassed when you pick up on the first ring.

"Hey," you murmur, settling into your sheets and closing your eyes, "Is everything okay?"

"With me?" he asks, voice tired and gruff, "Thought it'd be the other way around."

Your brow furrows, "What do you mean?"

"Thought you'd wanna talk about this church volunteerin' stuff," he's moving around as he talks - you hear the sound of a cupboard banging and the clang of a glass against a countertop.

You don't speak for a moment, listening to the sound of liquid being poured into a cup and Joel taking a swig. There's no sound of the tap - you'd be willing to bet that it's not water he's drinking.

"No, I..." you frown, "I was worried about you."

You hear him take another sip, swallowing loudly and then placing the cup back down with a clink. More pouring. You swear you hear the faint sound of a chuckle before he takes another swig.

"Well that's silly," he states, and you suddenly notice there's a strange difference in his voice, a heaviness you're not used to.

"Are you drunk?"

He chuckles again but there's no humor in it, "Nowhere near as drunk as I'd like to be."

You frown, readjusting yourself against the pillows. You hear him take another sip, "Did something happen?"

He sighs then, deep and tired. You hear him put the glass back down on the counter, "No, babygirl, nothin' happened," hearing him say your pet name makes you feel a little better, the anxiety ebbing away a bit, "It's just that my job is the bane of my fuckin' existence."

He sounds genuinely exhausted, words tinged with resentment. You pull his flannel tighter around yourself, breathe him in, pretend you're in the same room as him, "Talk to me," you say softly, "Tell me what's wrong."

He doesn't reply for a moment - you can make out some footsteps on the other end, the creak of his stairs as he goes up to his bedroom, "No, darlin', it's nothin'. Shouldn't be talkin' about this with you."

"Hey, if something's bothering you, I wanna hear about it. I wanna make it better... if I can."

You hear him settle onto his bed, a satisfied little noise emanating from his throat that makes you smile, "That's the thing, babygirl. You can't. This is just the way life works. You do shit you hate and then you die, plain and simple."

"Joel," you admonish quietly - it's the first time you've said his name aloud since last weekend, it feels right on your lips, safe. He sighs but doesn't say anything else, breath evening out in your ear. "What is it? Really? I've been worrying about it all week."

"Oh honey," he murmurs softly. "Shouldn't be worryin' about me, there are more important things."

"Not to me," you admit, closing your eyes and shaking your head even though he can't see you, "First I thought maybe you were just busy, but-"

"Busy," he scoffs, "Right, yeah, busy. That's my middle name at this point. Fuckin' busy."

He really doesn't sound like himself - you know you still don't know him very well at this point, could be wrong about so many things, but part of you just knows that this isn't Joel. You know his softness, his safety, his kind eyes and crooked smile. This version of him sounds so sad; you can't help but wish you were in his bed right now, able to hold him close and run your fingers through his grey curls. You want him to open up to you.

"You don't wanna hear this shit, angel, you don't," he continues, voice gentler this time, "I know you're thinkin' somethin' is wrong, thinkin' somethin' in particular happened to make me feel like this, but the truth is..." he sighs again, deliberates for a moment and then simply states, "Truth is I'm just bein' stupid."

"You're not stupid," you say immediately, and he chuckles.

"God, you're so sweet, babygirl," he murmurs softly, "It's nice to hear your voice."

Your feel your skin heat up at the words, crossing your legs together unconsciously, "It's nice to hear yours too," you whisper with a smile, "I've missed you this week. Every time you've texted me it's felt like it's not really you."

"I'm sorry, baby," you can hear the sincerity in his voice buried underneath the tiredness and alcohol, "I'm just... I'm a mess." You hear him shuffle a bit in bed, like he's turning onto his side, "Work is always puttin' me in a shitty mood lately and I just...I don't want you to see this side of me."

"But why?"

Another sigh, then-

"'Cause I don't want you to look at me differently."

You bring the sleeve of his flannel to your lips, "I could never look at you differently, Joel," you whisper, "Promise."

He's quiet for a moment and you hope you haven't upset him, hope he's just thinking about what to say. You mean your words; it really would take a lot for you to look at him differently. You know you probably shouldn't feel that way considering you've known him less than a month, that the feeling should scare you... but it doesn't.

"I'm tired, angel," he finally says, voice sad and distant, "I'm too old to be doin' this job."

You wait for him to speak again, listening as he takes a shaky breath on the other end of the line, almost like he hasn't told anyone this. And maybe he hasn't.

"But it's hard to admit that to myself," he continues, "And even harder to admit it to you of all people. I don't want you to see some washed up, tired, old geezer, ya know?" he says it with humor but you can tell that he means it, "I mean I used to... god, I used to be able to do shifts like this no problem. Be up at five and home by midnight and able to do it all over again the next day. Now it's like I'm runnin' on a half empty tank of gas. Got no joy in this job anymore and my back is killin' me and-" he cuts himself off suddenly, "And I need to shut the fuck up before I scare you away."

"You're not gonna scare me away," you whisper, and you mean it, "I'm not going anywhere."

He laughs softly to himself; you're not sure if he believes you, but you're choosing to hope that he does, "Ya know, I didn't even wanna tell you my age when we were first together? I wasn't gonna tell you, I really wasn't. But then you were so sweet and vulnerable and honest with me-"

You scoff, "Yeah, lying about knowing how to play guitar, that's certainly honesty."

"That's not what I mean and you know it," he chastises - you can hear the sudden smile in his voice, "No, darlin'... when you told me you hadn't done anythin' before. That's when I knew I had to tell you, 'cause it wouldn't have been right otherwise," he makes an odd noise in his throat and then corrects, "Not that any of this is really right, but..."

"It feels right," you say softly, staring down at the plaid lines on the flannel shirt shrouding your body, reminding you of what it means - that you're his.

"It does," he agrees, voice rough and low, "Right and wrong in all the right ways, huh babygirl?"

You nod to yourself, unable to help the grin that spreads across your face, "Exactly."

The both of you are silent for a few moments but just like last weekend, it isn't uncomfortable or awkward. It's calming and safe, just listening to each other's breathing. You can tell he's tired, can hear it in his slow exhales; again, you can't help but wish you were lying beside him. And you can't help but wonder if a more sober Joel would have even said any of this to you, would have just kept it to himself and continued to deal with it in silence, not bothering to tell anyone how he's been feeling. It breaks your heart a little bit.

"It'll be okay," you whisper gently, soothingly, "It won't be like this forever, Joel."

He sighs, deep and sleepy, "You really are an angel," he murmurs, "So sweet and lovely, babygirl. Love hearin' you say my name like that."

His words send warmth throughout your body - no one has ever spoken to you the way Joel speaks to you, makes you feel the way he makes you feel. You close your eyes and bury your face in the sleeve of his flannel, listen as his breathing gets slow again.

"You should get some sleep," you whisper, even though you really don't want to end the call - but Joel is tired and you want him to feel better, "Text me tomorrow, okay? Even if you're grumpy."

He almost laughs but he's so close to sleep that it comes out slurred and low, "Okay, baby, I will. Promise."

"Goodnight, J-"

"Wait wait wait," he suddenly sounds a bit more alert, rousing himself from sleep, "You didn't tell me 'bout this church thing. You okay with it?"

You giggle at his sudden concern, "It's nothing, really. Just helping an old friend out with lesson plans for Sunday School. Not very exciting."

"Fun," his voice is sleepy and low again, "What're you gonna wear?"

You have to bite down on your lip to stifle another laugh, shaking your head even though he can't see you, "Go to bed, you perv."

He chuckles, "Okay, okay. Goodnight, angel."

"Goodnight, Joel."

You're about to end the call when you hear him murmur one final thing, so soft you're surprised you can even make it out - but you do:

"Hope I dream about you."

You fall asleep with a smile glued to your lips.

--

You end up wearing the same outfit you'd worn to Joel's last Saturday, though you leave the stockings at home; you doubt the women at church will be offended by your bare legs. You fasten your crucifix around your neck and make sure your mom gets a good look at you before you leave the house; you haven't spoken since yesterday afternoon but you still want her to see you're putting in some effort, as surface level as it may be.

She's in the living room when you come down the stairs, and her expression can't help but turn to one of surprise when she looks up from her book to see you standing there in your Sunday best.

"I'm going to the church," you explain softly, "Gonna help out Bethany with the lesson plan for Sunday School."

She assesses you up and down, eyes fixing on your crucifix for a moment before trailing back down to her book. She doesn't say a word.

Silent treatment. Typical.

Fifteen minutes later you find yourself being greeted by Bethany, blonde hair flowing down her dress as she stands outside the church with a bright smile plastered on her face. You recognize the forced expression immediately, one that you yourself have become an expert in feigning, though for different reasons. You haven't seen her in years but you still know her well enough to tell when she's less than thrilled about something - this time that "something" is you being there.

"I'm so excited you're here!" she tells you, voice shrill as she immediately takes a step forward to envelop you in a haphazard hug that feels neither excited nor genuine.

You should have known it would be like this. When you'd left for college a few years ago you'd promised to keep in touch with both Alice and Bethany, the only "solid" friends you'd managed to keep throughout all the studying, the tutoring, the church services, the extracurriculars, volunteering, etc. It's a miracle in itself that your friendship had even lasted through high school, if you're being honest. You'd begun to distance yourself from them a bit in those final years as you started to lose your faith while theirs only seemed to grow stronger. Leaving for college had been the last nail in the coffin.

"Me too!" you lie, feigning a similar smile as you both pull back from each other.

Though her grin is unrelenting, you can see the distance in her eyes, the sourness and disdain for your presence extremely evident. She doesn't like you. There's an awkward few seconds of silence where she assesses you up and down again, like she had at the service on Sunday.

Why did you even say yes to me coming here? You want to ask as you stand in front of her awkwardly, not really knowing what to say. If you didn't want me here you could have just said there wasn't anything for me to do. But you already know why you'd still been invited despite her obvious disdain for you - keeping up appearances means everything to these people; actually being honest about her feelings would have been disastrous for her reputation.

"Was sure you'd forgotten all about me," she finally says with an edge of malice still shrouded through her smile, "Haven't heard from you in what? Three years? And then you just show up outta the blue, huh?"

You grimace, "Uh, yeah, sorry about that. There was... I mean, I've just had a lot going on, I guess." You kick your feet awkwardly; this is not the conversation you want to be having right now.

"A lot goin' on, huh?" she echoes, eyes still scanning you up and down, "Right. Busy with college?"

You nod quickly, "Yeah, it's been kinda crazy."

She raises an eyebrow, "What are you studyin' again?"

"English Lit."

She snorts then, shaking her head and taking a step back, "Right. Reading. Sure sounds crazy."

Your brow furrows, "It's more than that."

"Oh, I'm sure it is," she puts her hands up in defense, fake laughing and smacking her lips together, "Just find it funny that an English Lit degree takes up so much of your time." She's being pretty bold with the sarcasm but you suppose she has a right to be angry, though you'd never assumed she'd be this pissed about you cutting her off, "Anyway, we should get inside, they're waitin' for us."

"Bethany," you take a step toward her, softening your expression, "I'm really sorry."

She just shakes her head again and turns away from you to reach for the handle on the front door, forced smile finally fading into a natural frown, "Forget it."

Great start.

You don't talk much after that, not after you're led into a side room off the chapel where a few other women are sitting in a circle with binders in their laps. Bethany simply gestures for you sit down in an empty chair and the meeting begins. Everyone immediately begins their rapport, discussing their plans and reading quotes aloud from their binders while you just kind of sit there unsure of what to do or say. A few of the women give you a tentative smile or two, but the way Bethany periodically glares at you is enough to keep them from actually speaking to you directly. You're okay with it though; as awkward as this is, you'd rather sit in silence than have to pretend. Still, if you'd known it would be like this you never would have come - it's not like your mother appreciates it anyway.

Your phone vibrates at one point, a text from Tasha confirming her flight information with lots of !!!!!!'s that make you smile. As if sensing your sudden mood shift, Bethany puts her hands up with another grin that doesn't reach her eyes.

"We keep phones in our purses" she says sweetly, "So we don't get distracted."

You nod and slip it back inside your bag, a gesture that's more of a peace offering than anything else; it seems to appease her.

It's strange being inside this part of the church again after so long. You'd attended your own Sunday School lessons here, prepped for choir and readings, learned your scripture. It certainly doesn't feel as safe or inviting as it once did, though you have to admit that there was always an undercurrent of pressure, of judgement - an energy that still remains today. Bethany watches you closely, quietly assessing you as you nod along to everyone's suggestions and ideas and try to keep up your long-time façade of obedience. You push down the new parts of you that long to take back a bit of control, maybe say something shocking or suggest something ridiculous just to see how they'd react.

You've been sitting in silence for about forty five minutes when Bethany announces its time for a quick phone break. Like clockwork everyone in the room pulls out their devices and starts checking for missed calls from their kids, their husbands. You pull yours out and your eyebrows go up in surprise when you see a text from Joel on your lockscreen:

How's your day going angel?

He didn't forget his promise. A smile plays at your lips as you start typing out your reply, but it quickly fades when you feel Bethany's eyes on you, watching.

"I'm, uh-" you stand up, smoothing out the creases in your dress and gripping your phone tightly, "I'm gonna take a bathroom break."

--

The bathroom is the same as you remember it, high ceilings and white walls, your footsteps echoing loudly as you walk over to the sinks and lean your back against the countertop. You continue typing out your reply to Joel:

well all the church ladies are giving me the silent treatment til i'm worthy of being here again lol. but jokes on them cause my mom is also giving me the silent treatment so i have training! anyway i miss you. wanna hug you. hope you're feeling a bit better today 💕

You turn around and face the mirror while you wait for his reply. You're still smiling - it's impossible not to when you're thinking about Joel, but this smile is bright and genuine, unlike the forced grins you've been sharing with Bethany for the past hour. God, you can't remember the last time anything made you feel as free and happy as Joel makes you, like nothing else really matters. Your phone buzzes and you tear your eyes away from the mirror to read his reply:

Aw baby I'm sorry. I wanna hug you too. Wanna do a bit more than hug if I'm being honest, but you know that already.

You bring your other hand up to your mouth, smiling even wider into it as his typing bubble pops up again only seconds later:

And I'm sorry about last night. If I said anything stupid please forget it ever happened. Me and alcohol don't mix that well sometimes. I'm alright, don't worry about me x

But I do worry, you want to say, I want to make you feel better. But how can you do that from a church bathroom, miles away from wherever he is right now? You're suddenly reminded of something he'd told you a few weeks ago, something you hadn't quite understood in the moment - You can text me whenever you want, tell me all about what you're doin', brighten up my workday. Maybe send me some pictures.

Oh.

You look at yourself in the mirror again and carefully place your phone down on the edge of the sink. Your hand slowly comes up to push aside the collar of your dress, pull the stretchy material past your shoulder and down your arm. You do the same to the other side, slipping out of your sleeves and tugging down the high neckline of your dress to expose your bare chest to the mirror, putting your cleavage on display. You bite your lip, willing yourself to see what Joel sees, a pretty girl in a pretty dress, bra straps clinging to her skin and a crucifix hanging from her throat. Filthy.

You grab your phone and turn it toward the mirror, opening up your camera app and moving it close enough so he can see only your torso, sleeves hanging limp at your sides while your other arm comes up to squeeze your breasts together a bit, accentuating your cleavage even more. You snap a pic and send it to him before you can talk yourself out of it.

He replies seconds later:

Fuck

A grin spreads across your face and you make quick work of slipping your bra straps down your shoulders as well, just as another text from him comes in:

Send me another baby. Please.

Already one step ahead of you, you think to yourself as your cheeks warm and you pull down the cups of your bra, your breasts spilling out into the cool air of the bathroom. You squeeze them together again, nipples hardening tightly as you take another picture and send it along with a coy message:

better?

He must be staring at his phone, waiting for it, because his typing bubble appears instantaneously. You can't help but feel a sense of pride at the power you're holding right now, a change of pace from your usual naivety.

Oh babygirl. This is just what I needed.

i know :)

You glance at the bathroom door and then at the time - you still have a few minutes before the meeting starts up again and your mind is already racing with what you can do with those few minutes. With barely any hesitation you tug your dress up over your thighs, pulling your panties to the side and aiming your phone underneath. You frown when you pull your phone back up to find that it's dark and blurry.

"Hold on," you whisper to no one, then carefully lift your leg and place your heel on the countertop for support, pulling your dress up again and aiming your phone a little better. You pull back your panties and aren't surprised in the slightest to feel that they're suddenly damp.

This picture comes out much better. Your pussy is bare and a little wet, clit poking out past your lips, panties pulled against your inner thigh. You already know it's gonna make him crazy as you hit send.

Jesus Christ

He's already typing something else when you receive it and you can't help but giggle, covering your mouth and trying to picture where he is right now, what he's doing. Is he in a bathroom too? On a break? Or is he in the middle of a job, surrounded by other people? The latter thought makes you even wetter somehow.

Fuck you have such a pretty pussy baby.

thank you mr. miller :)

Will you hold her open a little for me? Show me that sweet little hole?

Who are you to deny such a request? With heat radiating all over your body you bring your phone down again and scissor your lips apart, exposing the innermost part of yourself to your phone camera. You can feel your own slick on the tips of your fingers, and when you push yourself open you feel a bit of your wetness dribble down onto your palm. Fuck. This is hotter than you'd expected it would be. You'd thought it would be a good way to make him feel better, get him through his work day like he'd said; you never thought you'd enjoy it this much.

Oh sweetheart. Look at that.

You feel another rush of pride as you take your leg down from the counter and tug your dress back down, rubbing your thighs together and doing everything in your power not to touch yourself again even though you want to. A quiet whimper unconsciously tears itself past your lips at his follow-up message:

Who's that perfect pussy belong to babygirl?

You've never typed a message back so fast in your life.

you. it's yours mr. miller.

That's right. Good girl.

Your skin is on fire, body tingling in all the right places. You smooth a hand down your bare chest, cup one of your breasts, gently squeeze. It's impossible for your eyes not to roll back a bit when you imagine Joel's hand on you instead, big and firm and callused and perfect. Your pussy throbs in your underwear and another whimper slips past your lips.

i'm really wet now :(

I know angel. Come over tonight and I'll take care of it, Ok?

Your heart leaps at the invitation, even more wetness pooling in your panties at the thought of what Joel might want to do tonight, if there's another “lesson” he has in mind.

yes please

Eyeing the time again, you bite your lip in disappointment when you realize you should probably be getting back. You wait until Joel has finished typing his final response, a message that makes your skin burn with anticipation:

Don't touch yourself til you see me. Keep that soft little pussy hidden, baby. Promise me.

i promise x

Just as you hit send you suddenly hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps down the hall, quickly approaching the bathroom. Your eyes widen in the mirror, gaze snapping to your bare breasts, sleeves still hanging loosely at your sides. In a panic you hurriedly attempt to stuff yourself back into your bra before you have company – but you're not that lucky.

The bathroom door bangs open and you freeze with one arm halfway through your sleeve, breasts still completely exposed in the mirror as you turn on the spot to see none other than Bethany standing there, frozen in place.

“I-” she looks flabbergasted, expression one of pure horror as she takes a step back from you and grips the knob of the door like she could rip it off at any moment. Your free arm that isn't trapped in a sleeve comes up to cover yourself as best you can, but you know she's already seen everything.

“I'm- I was just-” You're similarly taken aback and at a complete loss for words, unsure how the fuck you can explain what exactly she's just walked in on.

Her eyes fall to the phone in your hand, like she's putting the pieces together, then she shakily takes another step back and leaves without saying another word, the click of her heels echoing back at you loudly until the door finishes closing behind her.

Shit.

You don't have time to stand around thinking up an excuse; you do briefly consider escaping through one of the windows to avoid facing her, but you know it would just delay the inevitable. Instead you hastily finish pulling your dress back on and stare at yourself in the mirror for one final moment.

Your smile is gone. So is the light in your eyes. You suddenly begin to feel that familiar sense of guilt creeping in, the shame, the sin. You blink a few times and find that there are tears welling up in your eyes, a lump in your throat. A tiny voice in the back of your mind, one you've been attempting to mute for years, whispers to you: What have you done?

--

Bethany doesn't speak to or look at you for the rest of the meeting. It's not much of a change from before you'd gone to the bathroom, but there's something new in her silence now, something you can see in her eyes as she stares down at her binder while the other women talk. Fear. You've known her for most of your life, can sense certain mood changes from a mile away; you've frightened her. And somehow that just adds even more to the guilt building in your stomach.

You'll apologize to her after the meeting, it's all you can do. You genuinely feel horrible that she'd walked in on something so private, seen something she never intended or desired to ever see. You wonder if there's anything you can use to pass off as an excuse; maybe you spilled something on your dress and were cleaning it off? Maybe it was too tight and you needed a breather? Anything is better than the alternative – the truth – but you somehow doubt she'll believe anything you say at this point. That bridge was broken the second you left for college; there's no repairing it now.

The meeting ends with a few pleasantries exchanged and several comments about picking kids up from school, getting home to cook something for dinner, normal things that remind you how abnormal your own situation is in comparison. Half an hour ago you'd felt on top of the world, in control, had power in the tips of your fingers. Now you just feel small again, inconsequential.

You wait until the other ladies have left before taking a step toward Bethany, ready to unload your apologies and beg for forgiveness. She surprises you by speaking first.

"I'd think twice before wearing that again,” she hisses at you, venomous and pointed. Your eyes widen.

"Excuse me?"

"I said,” her words are slow and full of bitter intention, eyes glaring daggers at you, “I'd think twice before wearing that again" she gestures to the crucifix around your neck and you unconsciously reach up to take it between your fingers, glancing down at it before looking back up to meet her angry gaze.

“I'm...” you feel overwhelmed, tears pricking in your eyes again at the sudden burst of rage being directed at you, “I don't...”

"You might not understand this,” she practically spits through her teeth, “but that symbol actually means something to the people here."

"I know what it means.” It comes out as barely a whisper, voice shaky as she takes an intimidating step toward you with nothing but malice in her expression.

"So that's why you've got your breasts out in a public bathroom? A church bathroom?”

“Bethany, I-”

“You're not welcome here anymore, understand?” her voice is full of finality, “You can come to church with your parents-” The mention of your parents sends your anxiety into a tailspin, heart beating frantically in your chest as she continues to step closer and closer toward you, “And you can pretend you're their good little girl. But I know the truth. And it's not welcome in my Sunday School ever again. Got it?”

My Sunday school. The superiority complex is strong and you know deep down that this is all completely rooted in her own fears, her own desires, her pride, but none of that seems to matter when she's staring you down like this, holding you captive with her hostile words.

"Got it,” you whisper, nodding shakily.

"Good. Now go home and take," she points toward the crucifix, the tip of her finger close enough to faintly brush against the shape of it, “that,” she suddenly prods it, giving you one final sneer, “off.”

It takes you twenty minutes to leave the parking lot after that, tears blurring your vision as you cry in your car and try not to let the shame completely envelop you.

--

Going to Joel's that night carries none of the anticipation you'd felt earlier this afternoon; instead you feel nothing but shame as you steal your mother's house key from its dish in the hallway, closing the front door behind you as softly as you can and hurrying out into the night. There's no excitement or rush like the last time you'd done this. You feel like you could cry at any moment as you approach Joel's house, climbing his front steps with a heavy weight on your shoulders that wasn't there before, that hasn't been there in weeks.

The door opens before you can even turn the knob – he must have been watching from his window, waiting for you in anticipation for tonight's “lesson”. Your stomach lurches.

“There's my little Sunday School girl,” he murmurs, taking your hand and tugging you gently inside.

“Please don't call me that,” you say quietly, head down.

He shuts the door behind you and takes your hands in his – you can feel his eyes on you but you're unsure of the look on his face, what expression is on it. Does he sense there's something wrong? Or is he waiting for you to jump his bones?

“Hey,” his voice is soft, concerned, “Hey, look at me, sweetheart.”

You shake your head, still staring at the floor.

“What happened, babygirl?” he murmurs, one of his hands releasing yours to come up and stroke your cheek gently, thumb grazing the wetness beneath your eyes, “Why're you cryin', darlin'? C'mere.” His finger travels down to your chin, pushes your face up to look at him.

His expression is worried, brow furrowed and forehead creased, a frown playing at his lips. You feel your heartbeat slow, the weight on your shoulders decreasing just a little bit as safety settles in your bones. He cares.

“I had a horrible day,” you whisper, feeling tears trickle down into the corners of your mouth, “I know you want to...want to...” you shake your head, “Whatever we were gonna do. But I don't think I can tonight, Joel. I don't feel good.”

“Oh, babygirl,” he breathes, releasing your chin and immediately wrapping you up in his embrace, arms tightening around you as he pulls you against his chest, “We don't have to do anythin', don't even worry about that.”

You bury your face in his chest, breathe him in. His flannel underneath your mattress is nothing compared to the real thing, the real smell of him overtaking your senses and filling you with a true feeling of warmth and safety. His arms are so big – he's so big – and without meaning to you find yourself going completely limp in his arms, bones turning to jelly. It's like finally breathing in the fresh air after holding your breath underwater, a natural reaction to finally being where you belong.

He doesn't question your body's response, almost seems to understand completely as he pulls you up from the floor and adjusts you slightly to cradle you in his arms, carrying you past the living room, past the kitchen, up the stairs and to his bedroom. You just close your eyes and bury your face in his shirt, inhale the scent of sawdust and sweat and cedar and Joel.

He tips you gently onto his bed, presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before settling in beside you without saying anything. You feel his arm wrap around you, tug you in closer beside him as he noses your hair and lets you just exist.

Minutes pass before you finally break the comfortable silence, voice quiet and small - “I feel so ashamed.”

You feel his brow furrow in your hair and you turn around to face him, bringing your arm up around his torso and pressing your hand firmly against his back. He looks at you with confusion, concern.

You tell him everything. About Bethany, your friendship with her and Alice before you left for college, the way you'd already begun to lose your faith even then. You tell him about your mom, about the silent treatment and her reaction to the white lie, the lie that's practically nothing in the grand scheme of deceit you've been weaving these past few weeks. You talk about church and Sunday School and all the guilt you'd felt in that little room growing up, how being there again felt wrong and uncomfortable. You tell him how free you'd felt in the bathroom with your camera, the power you'd felt, reclaimed, and how all of it had been snatched away from you the second Bethany had entered. How she'd destroyed any semblance of confidence you'd been able to find today, how she'd shamed you for the crucifix that you don't even want to be wearing. It's the most you've ever told him, the most you've ever talked to him about anything.

And he listens.

He doesn't seem put out by your venting, annoyed or irritated or ready to send you home at any minute. He just nods, frowns at the right moments, strokes your arm and your cheek, kisses your forehead when you start to cry. Wipes the tears away when you apologize for crying. He stays with you and remains present and attentive, lets you talk and talk until you start to apologize for how much you've been talking.

“I know this isn't even what you signed up for,” you blubber, shaking your head and bringing your hands up to cover your face, “I'm sorry I keep bringing so much- so many complications into your life.”

“Shh,” he soothes, placing his large hands on yours and pulling them away from your tired eyes, leaning in to brush his nose against yours, “Stop apologizin', baby. Stop. You've got nothin' to be sorry for.”

You suddenly sit up in bed, leaning back against the headboard and bringing a hand up to touch the crucifix still clasped around your neck. You hadn't taken it off like she'd told you to do; you'd felt like doing so would have made you weak, would have been like giving up, even though you'd never wanted to even wear it again in the first place.

“Why does this little thing have so much fucking power over me?” you ask aloud, not directed at Joel but more-so to yourself, “My whole life, no one has ever seen me, they've just seen this.” You shake your head, squeezing the tiny cross in your hand. “And wearing it again has just brought all that shit back, it's done absolutely nothing good. Wore it for my mom and she still gives me the silent treatment. Wore it for Bethany and she still treats me like garbage, tells me to take it off. It's just a fucking necklace.”

Joel sits up beside you, places a warm hand on your thigh and peers at you with those soft brown eyes, lulling you back into a sense of calm, of serenity.

“Give it to me,” he says quietly.

Your brow furrows in confusion. You stare at him for a moment, then watch as he carefully brings his hands up to graze his callused fingertips against your neck, brushing the chain.

“I'll take it off your hands for a bit,” he murmurs, “Outta sight, outta mind. And if you want it back, I'll have it ready for you. How's that sound?”

You nod slowly to yourself, feeling your eyes begin to sting again at his words, “...Good. Th-that sounds good.”

Without saying anything else you hear the sound of the clasp being undone, feel the chain slip away from your skin as Joel takes it from you. You turn your head to watch as he fists it in his palm for a moment, gaze thoughtful and faraway as he traces the shape of the cross with his thumb. A few seconds later he opens his bedside table and carefully places it inside, then shuts the drawer.

And just like that, the weight is gone.

--

You take a shower in his bathroom again, wanting to wash this day off you and start over, clean slate. You could have had one when you got home from the meeting earlier but you'd instead opted to just lay in bed feeling sorry for yourself for much longer than you'd needed to. Now you close your eyes and let the hot water envelop you, wash yourself with Joel's body wash and allow yourself to become his again, picturing him laying in his bed in the other room, waiting for you. This is what matters. This moment. Right now.

You enter his bedroom wrapped in one of his towels, drops of water still spilling down your skin onto the hardwood floor. He's sitting up in bed, shirtless with his legs hidden under the covers. He's seemingly deep in thought as he stares at his phone screen, brows scrunched together. You watch as he pulls the phone away from himself, eyes squinting and lips parting a bit, then pulls it back, like he can't see what he's looking at properly. You realize that's probably the case.

“You need glasses,” you say with a soft giggle, and his expression relaxes when he sees you standing there, phone going back on his nightstand.

“I have glasses,” he admits sheepishly, giving you a tender smile, “Just hate wearin' 'em.”

“Of course,” you roll your eyes and take a few steps forward, still gripping the towel around yourself. His eyes fall to the parts of you that are bare, revelling in the way the lamplight reflects on your wet skin. You feel tingles erupt through your senses under his gaze.

“Are you naked?” you ask softly.

He shakes his head, “Wearin' pants, don't worry.”

You stand there for a moment, staring. He just stares back, eyebrows going up a bit while he waits for you to say something else. When you don't, he tilts his head slightly, appraising you.

“Do you want me to be naked, babygirl?”

You're answering before you even really know what you want, "Yes."

Without needing to be told twice he reaches under the covers with both hands and shimmies his way out of his pajama bottoms, staying hidden under the sheets as he tosses them out onto the floor. You bite your lip, still just standing there staring at him without moving. You're still dripping everywhere, a little puddle of water forming at your feet the longer you stay frozen.

He raises his finger and playfully curls it toward himself with a smile, "C'mere, baby," he murmurs, "Be naked with me."

You don't need telling twice either.

The towel drops from your body, landing in the puddle of water on the floor - easy cleanup. You feel heat radiating through every inch of your bare skin as you walk toward the bed, avoiding Joel's eyes and quickly slipping in beside him. You really don't know what you're doing - you'd said when you got here that you didn't want to do anything, not tonight, and it's still true. But part of you just aches to be close to Joel, to feel his warm heat, his rough skin, be connected to him somehow. It's what you've wanted all week.

You inch in beside him, back against the headboard, your bare thigh touching his lightly beneath the sheets, and you find yourself tensing up unconsciously. He clocks your reaction immediately.

"You don't gotta be nervous, angel," he tells you softly, soothingly.

You swallow and take a deep breath, "It's hard not to be," you whisper, though there's no reason to, "I'm just... I'm so..."

"What?" he asks, brown eyes seeking yours in the dim light. His hand comes up to cradle your face, thumb swiping beneath your eye again like he's checking for more tears - luckily you're feeling much better in that department.

You sigh, shrugging slightly, "I don't know what I'm doing," your eyes fall down to the duvet, knowing that if you pulled it back you'd see your bodies touching underneath, his rough and tan skin pressed against yours, soft and untouched, "I mean, I don't even know why I came tonight. I knew I didn't- that I didn't want to-" you sigh again in frustration, unable to find the right words, "I just... I missed you," your eyes travel back up to meet his, "I just wanted to be near you."

His expression softens, still stroking your cheek as he peers into your eyes, "You feel safe with me, don't you?" You nod. "You know I won't do anythin' you don't want me to do, right?" Another nod. "So it's okay to just relax when you're with me."

You grimace, "How can I relax when we're naked in bed together?"

He chuckles, dropping his hand from your face and shuffling down into the bed a bit, away from the headboard, "Okay, time for another lesson."

You feel your heart sink again, worried that he's not understanding - probably because you can't explain it right - but he smiles reassuringly at you and curls his finger slightly, urging you to follow him downwards. With a quiet inhale you slowly inch away from the headboard and further down into the bed, beneath the duvet. You both stop moving when your heads hit the pillows, laying down fully beside each other.

"Gettin' naked doesn't always mean there has to be sex," he says softly, and you watch as he very slowly brings his hand down beneath the duvet; you know where it's going before it touches you, but you still shiver when you feel his fingers brush lightly against your bare arm, "Us bein' naked in bed together doesn't mean anythin' has to happen."

"But earlier today I said..." you trail off, shaking your head, "I promised that-"

"Earlier is earlier," he brushes your arm again, tender and comforting, "Circumstances change, your day got shitty. Mine was no better. It happens."

His hand travels downward, toward the skin of your hip. He curls his palm around your bare flesh and gently massages it, thumb stroking the edge of your tummy. It's intimate and new, but somehow it feels more safe and comforting than sexual, like he's simply doing something casual, normal.

"Sometimes you just wanna lay in bed with someone" he murmurs, still touching you tenderly, "No expectations, no pressure. No nothin'. Sure, it's fun to touch each other and be together like that, but if you just wanna sleep..." his fingertips brush your back gently, then press firmly into your skin as he pulls you a bit closer toward him, "If you just wanna lay here with me, that's okay too."

You're not sure what to think, staring at him with a million different thoughts flooding your mind. Your interpretation of what men want has always been a bit of a grey area, but you've heard enough from both your family and your friends to know that most of them are just after one thing. You'd heard it from your parents your whole life who always warned about non-Christian boys and their sinful thoughts, then from the girls at college who dealt with disrespect and catcalls, men who turned on them in an instant the second they realized they weren't getting any.

Joel isn't like that. Sure, he wants sex - that's been obvious since day one, when he'd invited you inside his house within minutes of meeting you. He'd only had one thing on his mind, just like your parents had always said. But he hadn't thrown a fit when you'd said no, and up until this point he's made it abundantly clear that the ball is in your court, that it's up to you what happens between the two of you.

"I know all this stuff can be scary," he continues softly when you don't reply, "I know you're embarrassed about bein' so inexperienced, but you don't need to be. I'm here to make it easier for you; I want you to be comfortable."

He nudges forward a bit and slowly begins to wrap his arms around you, warm and inviting. You let him, body going loose and comfortable in his grasp as you feel your eyes close; safe. You feel so safe.

"You're so warm," is all you can think to say, loving the way it feels to have his broad and hairy chest pressed up against your bare breasts, his big and strong arms winding around your smaller form.

He chuckles softly and you feel him press a gentle kiss to your cheek, beard scratching your skin in your favorite way. You bring your arms up and hug him back beneath the blankets, feeling your naked thighs press firmly against his. You're aware of his cock - it's hard not to be, not when it's pressed gently against the base of your tummy, soft against your skin - but he doesn't rub himself against you or do anything to initiate more than this, more than just being together like he'd said.

He really means it, you know he does.

"I can't wait to have sex with you," you hear yourself whisper in his ear; it sounds dirty but you don't mean it to be, "I just...I'm really glad it's gonna be you."

And I'm pretty sure I'm falling for you.

--

You wake up the next morning to a firm and solid presence at your back, bare and warm and comfy. You're surprised you're awake before Joel's alarm, wondering what exactly woke you up in the first place - and then you feel it. Something wet and sticky against your lower back, something pulsing and twitching every so often against your skin.

Good morning.

He hadn't pressed his cock against you like this last night when you were cuddling, hadn't asked you to touch it or even acknowledged its presence. But sleeping Joel is an entirely different person, his big arms wrapped around you tightly, one splayed across your belly while the other holds your right breast, cups it like it's meant to fit there. He holds you in place firmly, breath at your neck, nose in your hair.

You're not sure how much time you have left before his alarm goes off. The sun is only barely starting to come up outside the window, so it could start ringing at any time now. All you know is that the sensation of having him so close to you like this, his most intimate part so close to yours, so wet and warm, it's making you all wet and warm. Your skin almost feels itchy, especially at your neck where his warm breath leaves a damp spot beneath your ear, a spot you're suddenly longing for him to kiss, to lick.

"Joel," you breathe, unable to wait any longer, scared that at any moment he'll have to leave the bed and start getting ready for work.

No response.

"Joel," you repeat, a bit louder this time, and with his name you carefully grind back against him a little bit, the wet head of his cock trailing back and forth against your warm skin. He makes a grumbling noise in his chest, pulls you in a bit closer, "Joel, wake up," you moan, painfully aware of the shape of his balls against your ass, big and heavy and suddenly the hottest thing you've ever felt in your life.

"What?" he groans, rousing from sleep, "What is it?"

It's all the confirmation of awareness you need to suddenly turn in the sheets, bring the duvet down to expose your naked bodies to the both of you. His eyes are bleary and tired as he watches you from beneath heavy eyelids, sees where your gaze has settled.

His cock lays long and thick and loose against his tummy, round tip drooling precum into the hair smattered above his belly button. God, he's so big. Your lips part, saliva filling your mouth like it had the last time you saw it, like somehow your body knows exactly what the next step is.

"I wanna put my mouth on it," you whisper, pushing your hair back behind your ears and turning your gaze back to Joel's face, "Please."

His eyebrows go up in surprise, eyelashes fluttering with sleep. He's probably wondering where this is coming from, how the girl in his bed right now is the same one who just wanted to be held last night, but he doesn't seem to be complaining. He nods quickly, stretches his arms above his head and tries to rouse himself even more from sleep.

"Of course you can, baby," he mutters huskily, voice deep and dripping with arousal, "Go ahead."

"Tell me if I'm doing something wrong," you murmur softly, and before you can even fully process what you're doing or question if you'll even be good at it, your lips are pressing against the warm heat of his wet tip.

He hisses immediately and you pull back, frightened for a moment that you've already fucked up somehow. He shakes his head quickly at you, "No, no, you're good baby, that's good," one of his hands comes down to settle against the back of your head, fingers tangling gently in your hair, "Give it a kiss, just like that."

And you do. Time is already not on your side - you feel like there's a countdown clock hanging over your head as you press another kiss in the same spot, his precum sticky on your lips. You'd thought it might be gross, had heard lots about blowjobs from your friends and how unpleasant they can be, but when your tongue darts out to carefully prod against where he's leaking, you find that it doesn't bother you that much at all.

"Tastes funny," you murmur softly, peppering a few more kisses around the wide head and then down to his shaft, thumbing the prominent vein on the underside as you do it.

"Kinda gross, huh?" you hear him say softly above you, a strained edge to his voice that makes you smile against him.

"I think I like it, actually," you admit softly, tongue darting out once again to slowly lap up a bead at the tip. You're not lying; there's something masculine and sexy and inherently Joel about it, something you hadn't been expecting.

"That's good, sweetheart," he murmurs, stroking the back of your head gently, "That's so good, angel." You don't know whether he means your opinion on the taste or simply a reaction to the things you're doing with your tongue, but either way you keep going, hoping that the alarm doesn't interrupt you.

You wrap your lips around the tip carefully, pulling it into your mouth and sucking it gently - very gently. He makes a breathless sound above you and you can't help but bring your gaze up to his face, your eyes meeting his as you swallow him down.

"That's it, that's a good girl," he breathes, thumbing a strand of hair at your temple and pushing it behind your ear, eyes dark, "Look at you."

You swirl your tongue around the tip, still making sure to keep eye contact with him as you carefully slip more of him inside your mouth. He's so big, there's absolutely no way you'll be able to fit all of him inside, at least not without some practice. He doesn't seem to mind that you can only take a little bit of him, his thumb coming downward to stroke gently at the corner of your mouth. He wipes away a bit of drool pooling there, brows furrowing.

"You're doin' so good, angel," he whispers, nodding slowly to you in reassurance as you very slowly begin to lift your head up and down, up and down, eyes going hazy, "Takin' that cock so well."

His words spur you on, encourage you to take a little bit more. You've got about half of him in your mouth and you already know you won't be able to take anymore, the spongey tip pushing dangerously close to your gag reflex. You absolutely do not want to choke, don't want to ruin this in any way. You want him to feel good. Feel better.

"Oh, honey," he groans softly when you begin to palm his balls, rolling them gently and feeling their fullness, round and heavy, "This mouth," he touches the corner of your lips again, a bit harder this time, trails his fingers downward to grip your chin, "Made to have my cock in there, huh?" his eyes are boring into yours, pupils blown wide, "You like havin' your mouth full like that, babygirl?"

You nod and whimper around his length, speeding up a little bit and never breaking eye contact with him, obsessed with watching his eyes get darker and darker, filling more and more with lust as he watches you pleasure him.

"Yeah, you do," he murmurs, voice soothing again like last night, calm and safe, "What a good girl you are, wakin' me up to suck my cock. Couldn't wait, could ya, baby?" you shake your head and the head of his cock slips past your throat a little too far, so much that you have to pull off him quickly to be sure you don't gag, "Aw, baby, that's okay," he reassures you gently, "It's a lot, I know."

Your eyes are hooded and your jaw is already starting to ache - you're not used to doing something like this and he knows it, strokes your cheek gently as he takes his cock in his hand and carefully pushes the tip against your lips.

"You just kiss it, baby," he whispers, dark and deep, "Kiss that cock 'til I come, okay?"

You do as you're told, lips parting slightly as he rubs the head of his cock against your lips and strokes himself a few more times, bringing himself close to the edge. He's so gorgeous like this, so rugged and almost animalistic as his chest heaves, groans escaping his mouth as he watches your lips. His hand is still in your hair, grip getting tighter and tighter as you lean down a bit so he can gently fuck the tip of his cock back into your mouth. Your eyes close involuntarily and you can feel your pussy throbbing against the mattress with every thrust, lips tight around him.

"Ah, fuck," he grits out suddenly, then pulls his cock away from your mouth and releases all over his chest and stomach, thighs tensing up as you watch his eyes practically roll back into his head. Your eyes are wide and attentive, locked onto the white ropes of come that spurt against his bare skin. You find yourself wondering what it would feel like at the back of your throat instead, on your tongue, what it would taste like...

Your thoughts are interrupted by Joel's alarm going off, loud and obnoxious. Before he can pull himself up to turn it off, you lean over to the nightstand and do it yourself, swiping it off and turning back to his blissed out form. He lies there panting for a moment, eyes closed. You can't help but smile, feeling pride swell in your chest again at the knowledge that you made him feel like this.

"Don't go back to sleep," you whisper softly, "You gotta go to work."

He groans then, but opens his eyes and gives you a crooked smile and a wink, expression still sleepy and satisfied, "Who needs an alarm clock when I got you, huh?" He gestures with his finger for you to move closer and you do, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips, "Mornin', darlin'," he murmurs against your mouth.

"Morning," you whisper back, and you revel in the smile on his face when you pull away, "Sorry for jumping your bones so early."

He just shakes his head with a wide smile, "Never apologize for jumpin' my bones, baby." His eyes fall to your naked body, settling on your pussy, still wet and aching against the sheets, "Aw, sweetheart, lemme take care of that for you."

You shake your head, pointing to his phone, "We don't have time, you gotta get to work and I gotta get home before my parents wake up," you slip out of bed and reach down to pick up the clothes you'd stripped yourself of last night before your shower. He starts to protest but you put your hand up with a soft laugh, "It's okay, Joel. I wanted to do this for you, start your day out right. Give you a chance at a good day."

He peers up at you from the bed, face smooshed into the pillow as he watches you get dressed, "Doesn't seem fair."

You just roll your eyes, pulling on your panties and shorts and pointing to his phone again, "Really, we need to hurry," you bite your lip as you slip your t-shirt over your head, "I have keys this time but I still don't wanna risk it."

"Okay, okay," he grumbles softly, "I'm goin'."

He slips out of bed and stretches, tilting his body back and forth. You both hear the way his bones crack, the noise that emits from his throat when he bends his back a certain way. You watch his expression change, going from content and sated to embarrassed and grumpy in seconds.

"And just like that, the illusion is gone," he mutters to himself, limping away from the bed and toward the door without so much as a side glance to you, clearly upset by the sudden reminder of his age. You frown, watching him go and feeling an ache in your chest that makes a home there for the rest of the morning.

--

He'd made you breakfast last time, so it's only fair that you make something for him today. Unfortunately cooking has never been your forte, so about fifteen minutes later you're waving a dish rag at the fire alarm while the sausages you'd managed to burn are smoking in the sink. Joel comes running down the stairs after his shower with a look of concern on his face, only for it to fade into one of amusement when he sees the situation.

"Now why am I teachin' you guitar when you clearly don't know how to even use a stove?"

"Oh, shut up," you can't even pretend to be mad at him, grin spreading across your face as you shake your head and breathe a sigh of relief when the alarm stops going off, "Help me clean this up."

You end up making toast instead.

"You know, we've still got about ten minutes," he says across from you at the table as you eat, peering down at his watch quickly.

"Yeah, 'cause I fail as a cook," you mutter, making a face at your slice of toast, "I was gonna do eggs too, you know."

"Let's not reach for the stars too quickly now," he says with a sly smile, putting his hand up quickly when you prepare to retort, "Anyway, that's not what I meant."

"What did you-" you look up from your toast and see him beckoning you toward him again like he had last night, finger curling toward himself with a sly smile on his face.

You look at the clock on the oven, biting your lip.

"It'll take five minutes tops," he says, and you raise your eyebrow at him.

"Really?" you challenge, "Five minutes?"

"Five minutes."

That, you'd like to see. Dropping your toast back onto the plate, you stand up and walk to the other side of the table, unsure what exactly he wants you to do. He spreads his legs a bit, points to his thigh.

"Sit here, babygirl," he says, voice low and hypnotic, "Wanna show you somethin' new."

Yes please.

You situate yourself on his lap, one leg going between his thighs while the other dangles carefully off the other side of the chair. He pulls you down, big hands coming up to palm your hips and hold you there firmly. You swallow tightly, unsure exactly what he has in mind.

"You know what feels really good?" he murmurs, thumbs slowly stroking the bare skin between your shirt and your shorts.

"What?" you whisper, peering down into his eyes with intrigue.

"This," he says softly, then very slowly begins to move your hips, dragging you carefully back and forth along his thigh. Your eyebrows shoot up, lips parting as you feel the ache in your core immediately return, the pressure of his thigh and the movement of his hands setting your nerves alight.

He looks down at his own handiwork, watches as he moves you back and forth, back and forth, rocking you over and over again until you're whimpering in his lap, your hands coming up to grip his shoulders. He just smiles up at you, doesn't stop his movements.

"Yeah, that feels good, doesn't it?" he breathes, watching your expression closely, "Feels good to finally have somethin' touchin' that pussy, huh baby?"

You moan at his words, hands slipping from his shoulders to wrap around him as you lean forward to bury your face in his neck. He just starts to move you faster, chuckling softly to himself when your hips buck against him. It's amazing how such a simple action can feel so fucking good, the constant stimulation against your clit through layers of material making you writhe and whimper.

He removes one of his hands from your hips and slips it inside the leg of your shorts, fingertips tickling your inner thigh gently. You grapple onto him even tighter, hugging him like a koala as his thumb slowly begins to stroke you through the wet spot of your panties.

"Couldn't stop thinkin' about this pussy yesterday," he murmurs, thumb rubbing your clit over and over in little circles, "Those pictures were so filthy, baby."

You moan against his shoulder, gripping him tighter as his thumb begins to pick up speed. He presses a kiss to your neck, wet and hot; it makes your eyes roll back.

"And this little hole," he murmurs in your ear, suddenly adding a finger inside your shorts to circle your entrance slowly, "Kept thinkin' about this tiny little hole, all open for me."

God, when he talks like that you can't even fucking think, brain running on autopilot as he pulls you impossibly closer and lets you bare down on his thigh, his finger and thumb trapped under your weight, pressed firmly against your core.

"Who's gonna fill up that hole, babygirl?" he whispers in your ear, soft and secret, "Huh? Who's that hole belong to?"

"You," you whimper into his shoulder, eyes shut tight as he strokes his finger up and down through the fabric, adding even more pressure to the overwhelming sensations you're already feeling "It's yours, Mr. Miller."

"And what's gonna go inside it, sweetheart?"

"Hnhng," you can't speak, inhaling shakily as Joel's other hand presses harder against your hip and continues to guide you, fucking you back and forth against his thigh. He just watches you, eyes dark, lips parted, brow furrowed.

"Words, babygirl," he reminds you softly, "Use your words. What's gonna go inside that tight little hole? Huh? Tell me."

"Y-your cock."

"That's right," he murmurs, the tip of his finger prodding inside you gently, taking the damp material of your panties with it, "Gonna fill you up so deep with my cock, honey. You're gonna feel it right here," he moves his hand up and places it at the base of your belly, pushes against it softly, "Gonna be so big inside you, sweet girl."

Oh fuck.

"I want it so bad," you groan, wrapping your arms even tighter around him, "I need it Mr. Miller."

"You do need it," he agrees softly as he kisses the top of your head, bringing his hand back down from your belly to guide you again, moving you back and forth "Need to be fucked so bad, don't you baby? Til you can't even think straight."

You nod frantically, continuing to grind yourself down against his thigh over and over and over, "Please," you whimper, almost a squeak, "Please, Mr. Miller."

"Shh," he soothes, pulling you in closer and moving your hips against him, looking at you with those big brown eyes full of lust and safety, "I will, babygirl. Soon. I'll fuck you so good, honey. I promise." Your body hitches in his lap as you near the edge, eyes going wide and mouth popping open as your orgasm starts to hit you, "Yeah? You like thinkin' about that, huh? Me fuckin' this soaked little pussy into my mattress? Fillin' you up so deep you can feel me in your stomach?"

You can't hold on anymore, eyes shutting tight and high pitched whimpers flowing past your lips as you start to come. He pins you against his thigh, holds you there tight and firm as your pussy pulses and throbs through his pants. You lean forward to bury your face in his neck as you ride it out, feel his hand press against your back.

"Oh, good girl, that's it, baby," he murmurs, kissing your temple gently and stroking your back in little circles, "Come all over my lap, sweetheart. Show me how wet she can get, there you go. Good girl."

After a moment of catching your breath and willing yourself to pull your face away from his neck, you both bring your attention to the clock on the stove - five minutes have passed.

"Told ya," he murmurs, pulling you into one more hug, hitching his chin over your shoulder and rubbing your back gently as your head lolls against him.

You're too blissed out to tease him back.

--

The arrivals gate isn't as busy as you'd expected, thankfully. You lean against your car a few hours later, still reeling from your morning with Joel as you wait for Tasha to show up. You'd told him about your weekend plans before you'd left, insisting that despite spending time with Tasha you'd still be attending your Saturday lesson.

"Can't wait," he'd murmured to you, low and deep in your ear after giving you one final kiss at the door, "Got somethin' real special planned, babygirl."

You'd practically melted down his front steps.

"THERE'S MY FAVORITE SLUT!!" you suddenly hear someone shout, and you look up to see Tasha at the sliding doors, bags dropping to the ground as she sprints at you head on and collides with you seconds later, wrapping her arms around you tightly.

She's just the same as she was the last time you saw her, high spirited and excitable and sweet, practically vibrating in your arms with joy. Only she could rock a bright purple cowboy hat and sweatpants, not to mention the lime green flip flops.

"Oh my god," you gasp in her ear, hugging her back and spinning on the spot, "You're insane."

"I'M EXCITED!" she squeals, pulling away from you and clapping her hands together, "We're going out tonight!!! Together!!! For the first time ever!" She brings her hands up and places one on either side of your face, lips turning down into a pout, "My baby bird is leaving the nest," she sighs dreamily, shaking her head, "I never thought this day would come."

"Please get in the car," you laugh, popping the trunk and gesturing to her bags, "before I change my mind and send you back."

--

You give Tasha the complete run-down on Joel as you get ready at the Airbnb, updating her on everything that's happened since you'd last checked in. It feels so good to actually talk about it, not text or simply mull it over and over in your head. She gasps at all the right spots, makes ridiculous faces in the mirror as she curls her hair, nearly drops the curling iron on the floor when you tell her about this morning.

"AND YOU LIKED HOW IT TASTED?" she practically screams, running out of the room and then running back in like she has no idea what to do with herself, "Oh my god, you are down bad. Jesus Christ," she makes a face, "Sorry, I mean- uh, fuck."

"Tasha," you roll your eyes, "You can say Jesus Christ."

"I can?" her eyes widen and she sighs in relief, picking up the curling iron from the floor, "Thank god."

You're going clubbing tonight for the very first time; a night of dancing and cocktails and flirting and living out all the college dreams you still have yet to experience. You're a bit tentative about the flirting part though, a concept that floors Tasha immediately.

"You can't go clubbing and not flirt," she says with faux shock, spinning in front of you as she assesses her dress in the mirror, "It's the best part!"

"I have a-" you cut yourself off, making a face at your reflection.

"You do not have a boyfriend," Tasha says immediately, "There has been no definition, babe. You need to keep reminding yourself of that."

"But it's not just fucking," you argue with a grimace, "I mean, it's not even fucking at all, we still haven't taken that step yet."

"I know, I just don't want you to get your heart hurt, honey," she frowns, leaning toward the mirror and applying some lipstick, "Boys are mean."

"Well, Joel's not a boy," you say quietly, fingering the hem of your own dress, a short and cute pink number that Tasha had brought specifically for you to wear, "He's a man."

"Mmhm, so you keep telling me," she raises an eyebrow, "I think I need to see this man for myself. Give you my honest opinion, see if he's really this gorgeous, perfect hunk you make him out to be."

You bite your lip, trying not to smile as you think back to this morning, how he'd looked in the early morning light, naked and sleepy and beautiful. And all yours.

"He is," you murmur softly.

--

You're supposed to be going clubbing, supposed to be out dancing and drinking cocktails and living out all your college dreams for once in your life. But where are you instead?

"O'Neil's!!" Tasha says excitedly, pointing to the red neon sign outside the bar you've just arrived at, throwing you a shit-eating grin that just makes you playfully roll your eyes.

You never should have told her the name of the bar Joel frequents, because she's now made it her mission to find him, get a good look at him and judge for herself if he's really all you're making him out to be. It's your own fault, you suppose, considering that you don't have any pictures of him or any frame of reference to articulate exactly the way he looks. For Tasha he's shrouded in mystery, but not for much longer.

Your ears are already ringing when you get inside the bar, the chatter and buzz of other people's conversations flooding your thoughts. You're not used to being out like this, being around drunk people or high people or literally anyone whose ideal night out is spending time at a bar. It's nerve-wracking and you instantly feel like a fish out of water, gripping onto Tasha's arm after showing your ID to a man who ogled both of you way more than he needed to.

"So this is where he hangs out," Tasha says, assessing her surroundings and leading you towards the bar where most people seem to be gathered, "Quaint. Little divey. Definitely not for our crowd but hey, we're learning new things tonight." She taps the counter and tilts her head toward the bartender with a smile, "Watcha got on tap?"

You wrinkle your nose, "I thought we'd be having cocktails."

"Oh we will at the club, don't you worry. But if we want the authentic dive bar experience, beer is necessary," the bartender lists the options and Tasha orders, though you barely hear what either of them are saying over the loud music and conversations. Your eyes scan the bar for any sign of Joel, but people are packed so tightly in here that it's hard to really see anybody, faces and bodies melding together.

The bartender hands Tasha the drinks and she throws him a wink, "Thank you, darling."

You envy how easily she navigates a situation like this, so natural and graceful despite her surroundings that are anything but. She hands your beer to you with a smile and holds hers up in front of her, tilting it toward yours until they clink.

"To you finally coming out with me," she toasts with a grin, "It's about damn time."

You smile back and take a sip, trying your hardest not to wince at the bitter flavor. It's not like you've never tried alcohol before, you just already know that you hate beer.

"Delicious," you lie, and Tasha just laughs and gestures toward a suddenly empty booth in the corner of the room.

"Let's sit there while we suss him out," she mutters to you, pulling you along with her and slipping inside, "Now, what's he look like? You've been pretty vague about those details." She waggles her eyebrows, "Be honest, is he bald?"

You almost spit out your second sip, shaking your head furiously, "No, he's not bald. Full head of hair."

She puts her hands up in defense, "Hey, it's not that crazy to assume!"

You just shake your head and laugh, turning back toward the bar and the people and trying to get a gage on where he might be. You know he usually comes here with his contracting crew, but what the hell does a contracting crew even look like?

"Help me out, gimme a description!" Tasha says eagerly, wiggling in her seat a bit and following your gaze, "He has facial hair, right?"

"Yes, it's kinda messy and scruffy," you bite your lip, squinting a bit as if that'll help you.

"And what's his hair color?"

You don't look at her as you reply, "Um.. grey."

Tasha's hand slaps down on the table and you jump, eyes going wide as you turn back to her, "What?"

"Grey? Girl, how old is he?" she doesn't sound angry or judgmental - she sounds intrigued. And almost... impressed? You gnaw on your lip, scrunching your eyebrows together as you look back toward the crowd of people.

"Um... he's..." you stop short, freezing when your eyes land on a familiar shirt near the bar, a red and black plaid button down that you'd seen only hours ago, "There! He's there!" You point at him quickly, ducking your head a bit and motioning for Tasha to lean in closer to get a good look.

"Oh... my god," she breathes, and you feel a rush of pride at her response, unable to stop the grin from plastering itself to your face as you peer at him.

There's something different about him that you can't place - maybe it's just because you haven't seen him in a public place like this, aren't used to what he looks like when it's not just the two of you. You try to put your finger on it, and while you're doing so he does something that makes your heart positively swell in your chest.

He smiles. That beautiful crooked smile that pulled you in the day you met him, set your skin on fire and brought you to the point of no return. Those crinkly eyes, the grey in his beard, the softness of his eyes, they send that familiar feeling of safety rushing through your bones. And you realize there's nothing different about him at all. That's your Joel, sitting on a bar stool after a long day of work, nursing a glass of whisky and chatting about his day. He's the same Joel who you'd woken up with this morning, just in a different setting.

You're so distracted by his rugged beauty out in the open like this - overwhelmed by his charm and his smile - that it takes you a few seconds to see who exactly he's smiling at.

You feel your heart in your throat.

There's a woman sitting beside him. Not just beside him, but so close their stools are touching, so close her legs - long and lean and beautiful - are brushing his. It's not subtle the way her ankle moves against his calf, up and down, up and down. She's wearing jean shorts and a halter top, skin dark and gorgeous and exposed in all the right places, beautiful brown braids cascading down her back and shoulders. You can't see her face but you already know she could be a model. She probably is.

No. No, something isn't right.

Maybe it's not him.

Time feels like it's frozen, like everyone in the bar has stopped moving except the two of them, like a giant spotlight is shining directly on where they sit, where they touch, where they smile at each other. Because it is him. It's him in all his gorgeous Joel glory, peering into the eyes of a woman who isn't you, a woman who's probably more his type, closer to his age, a woman who's somehow making him smile like that when she shouldn't. That's how he smiles at you. That's your smile.

A woman who's now leaning in for a kiss.

No. Please no.

A woman who he kisses back.

This isn't happening. This isn't real. This is just some sick and twisted nightmare you're about to wake up from at any second.

His hand comes up to cup her face.

"I'm gonna throw up," is all you manage to gasp out to Tasha as you yank yourself from the booth and sprint out of the bar, hand splaying across your belly as you bend over and release the contents of your stomach all over the sidewalk.

You feel Tasha's hand on your back, pulling your hair behind your ears. She's saying something but you don't understand it, ears continuing to ring despite being outside in the cool air, away from the loud music and chatty conversations, away from them.

"Oh honey," you finally hear her say, soft and kind as she rubs circles into your back, a comforting action that brings no comfort to you, not now, not after what you've just seen. "I'm so sorry."

[unreleasedwrites]

Love your writing!!! Could I request a fluff scenario with jake kim? Thank uu💕💕

Baking Shenanigans

“F’me?”

summary: You and your boyfriend are spending the weekend at your place. When you two were suddenly craving for something sweet, so you guys make the choice to try baking a strawberry shortcake using a highly reviewed recipe you guys found on the internet. Surprisingly, it went as you two hoped and tasted delicious.

character(s) included: Jake Kim x fem!reader

cw: fluff, cheesy pickup lines, teasing, flirting, idk much abt baking I just googled a recipe and the storyline follows the steps, jake is tall therefore you guys have a height difference, mentions of knives but its just for slicing strawberries, blushing/getting flustered, jake and reader are in an established and healthy relationship, nicknames or petnames like babe, kissing, waist holding, sLIGHTly just SLIGHTly suggestive at the end but not really so dw, there may be a few typos or grammatical errors so mb about that i didnt read too thoroughly

unwrapped on: Wednesday Morning, December 20 2023

wrapped up on: Wednesday Night, December 20 2023

published on: Thursday Noon, December 21 2023 (at around 12 PM)

“While you’re cutting up the strawberries, I’ll go ahead and preheat the oven!” You stated. “Oh- And I’ll also get our ingredients for the dough and some other materials we’ll need.” You added.

“Got it, shortcake.” Jake replied.

“Hey.. Just because were baking a strawberry shortcake, it doesn’t mean you should take the opportunity to give me a new nickname!”

He laughed in response as he swiftly sliced the fresh strawberries.

“You’re a natural in using knives, I thought you were more of a close combat kinda guy.” You mesmerized his hands slicing through each strawberry smoothly, glancing at the tattoos that trailed his arms.

“Well- I am, and I never really use knives. I rarely cook and it’s not my style to just stab my way through a serious match.” He shrugged.

You went ahead and got the different materials you guys needed to make the strawberry shortcake. You then took a stroll through the kitchen, from cabinet to fridge, to collect the various ingredients you’d be using according to the recipe you guys are following.

“Alright-y! I’ve got everything we were missing.”

“You’re the only one i’m ever missing,” he said as he turned towards your flustered face.

“Oh shut up, I’m right here. I always have been, and I always will be.” You replied as you got on your tippy toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek then added, “Look at how the tables have turned.. You’re the one who’s fluster-” You added before he cut you off and kissed you on your lips for a good 5 or so seconds, which made you even more flustered than you already were beforehand.

“Well would you look at that! Little miss’ no longer flustered has her cheeks as red as these strawberries,” He teased as he brought one down to your lips and fed you it. “Hmph,” was all you said in return because you knew you wouldn’t be able to top that. Which in the end, only made him chuckle.

You guys started to open the ingredients and put what’s required in the bowl you put out for the dough. Once you guys finished doing so, you mixed the dough mixture and proceeded to knead it for about a minute— which your boyfriend was the one to do so since he’s really strong anyway and wouldn’t struggle one bit. After lightly coating it in some flour, he rolled the dough into the specific thickness that was instructed and stated on the said recipe.

“Now that we’ve finished rolling the dough, we now need the biscuit cutter!” You said joyfully as you looked up at your boyfriend.

“Right! I’ll go get that for us.” He paused as he opened your cabinet with all of your tools for baking and cooking. “..What exactly does that look like..?” He added.

You laughed and walked to his side to assist, “It’s that one, silly.”

“I knew that! ..Obviously, I just wanted to see if you did too.” He laughed and so did you.

Once you guys had cut your dough into two thick circles, you went on to quickly melt some butter while your boyfriend was lining up a baking sheet for your guys’ tray. After only a few seconds, you took the butter out and greased up the baking sheet using your good ol’ brush. Once Jake placed the dough onto the tray with the greased up baking sheet, you brushed them up with some of the remaining melted butter in your bowl.

“I think its time!” You announced.

“..For you to give me a kiss?” He teased.

“Uh-uh babe. My lips are locked, but maybe later— If you can crack the code, that is. But for now, lets place these in the oven for about 12 minutes.”

“Awh,” he pouted and gave you his best puppy eyed look (although he doesnt even have to try), “Cmonn~ I promise I’ll control myself and I wont smother you in kisses like last week, pretty please” He pleaded, “with a lil’ strawberry on top?”

“Hmm..”

“Pleaseeee”

“Alright Alright!” You finally gave in as you put the tray into the oven, right after you set it to the instructed temperature and time.

Before you could even give him the go, he already grabbed onto your waist, clinging onto your body like a koala with its favorite tree. He started planting kisses all over your head and neck, down to your collarbone and shoulders— which were out in the open since you were wearing a very loose off shoulder top along with shorts.

“Babe-! You promised you’d control yourself!” You tried to speak out, but it was slightly muffled since he was too busy kissing you all over, especially in places he knew you were ticklish in— which caused you to keep laughing, ultimately forgetting you were trying to stop him in the first place from getting away with his little acts.

Twelve minutes finally passed by and you two heard a ding, signaling it was ready. So you guys made your way to the kitchen and you took out some mittens and grabbed the tray from the oven.

“Ta-da! They aren’t raw and they aren’t burnt at all! Its perfect!”

“I never doubted us for a second!” Jake spoke sarcastically.

“Well when you say it like that, I dont believe you one bit..”

“All we need now is the cream, I’ll place everything in the bowl and I’ll also mix it, could you prepare the strawberries and grab a plate with utensils so we could plate it right after?” Your boyfriend said as he looked at you with his wholesome smile you can’t get enough of.

“Will do!”

So then Jake got the remaining ingredients for the cream and made the mixture altogether, while you got the plate and a fork right after you prepared the strawberries your boyfriend was slicing earlier.

“I’ve got the spatula (for baking) here, so let’s place the cream.”

“While you do that, I’ll place the strawberries in the lathered cream,” you replied.

After finishing up the cream with strawberries on the second layer, which is also the last, you topped it off with some tiny bits of strawberries while you snacked on the remaining ones.

“We’ve finally finished!”

Jake grabbed a knife from the utensils drawer and took the fork you placed on the counter beforehand, he then sliced through the cake. “Say Ahhh~” Your boyfriend said as he lifted it up towards your lips.

“Ahhh” You opened your mouth and your boyfriend fed you the slice of cake, “How is it, babe?” He asked as you chewed your food.

You nodded in approval in a positive look, and once you finished the food in your mouth— you replied, “It’s the perfect amount of sweet! It’s not overly sweet but it isn’t missing any flavor either, here- you try!” You sliced through the cake and placed it on the fork you two were sharing, “Say Ahhh~”

“F’me?” Your boyfriend said with a hint of rasp in his voice,

“Yes sir~” You replied and brought the fork up to his lips.

“Ahhh~” Your boyfriend opened his mouth after he chuckled in amusement from watching your precious reaction to cake.

Your boyfriend smiled in approval and gave you a thumbs up. You then took some of the icing/cream on top using the fork and ate it. You hummed and your boyfriend said, “You’ve got a lil something, babe.” You turned up and looked at him with a confused look and mumbled a little “Hm?” in response.

“Here let me get that for you,” He then grabbed your waist and pulled you in for a kiss, all the while you still had a bunch of the icing in your mouth, which he started to help you with. You got insanely flustered, again. Despite this being such a regular occurrence, you’re always so flustered whenever it happens.

“So did I even have a little something? Or was that just my jake’s little excuse?”

“Believe it or not, you actually did have some icing on the side of your lips, which I cleaned up! So, your welcome~” He said with a smirk.

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say.” You scoffed.

“How about we go watch a movie, What do you say? Your boyfriend suggested.

“What movie?”

“How about this romantic movie I heard about last week?”

“Of course its romance again, huh?” You scoffed sarcastically.

“What can I say? I am a sucker for romance after all.”

notes: I HAVE BEEN GONE FOR SO LONG AND I AM SO SORRY😭 Its not like I just forgot about what I was doing here, I just got really busy with school and all the exams and everything.. I’m so sorry for disappearing out of the blue, but I have been going back and fourth in the works in my drafts, because I have been trying to finish some one’s request but it just keeps going NOWHERE. and I have literally restarted twice when I was already halfway because I really wasn’t happy with how it was going and i am struggling to get it done 💀 I hope this is good and since the pattern of my posts are fic-drabble-fic-drabble-fic-drabble/answering an ask-and this fic, I will be start working on a drabble of multiple lookism characters, im not yet sure what scenario I’ll be doing but yeah.. and to the anon who made the request about Gun, im really trying to work on it im so sorry its been almost 3 months.. 😭😭 ALSO, TO THE ANON WHO REQUESTED THIS, im sorry it took so long as well and since you just said a fluff scenario, I figured i’d go ahead with my idea to make my post about baking shenanigans a series, so yall can request a character for that

- With or without proper credits, please don't try to steal or claim any of my works as your own

I genuinely appreciate opinions, feedback, likes, and reblogs

Once again, I hope this isn't too bad for all of you that likes Jake or lookism, and I'll be doing more characters in lookism 🫶🫶

[hanabeeri]

another week has passed uwaaah 早いね.. its a good practice though to sit down and to really think about what happened. at least to me because i have a memory worse than a fruit fly i believe 🥹 the week isnt over and i still have sunday ahead of me, but i dont think anything major or big will happen tomorrow. i may facetime my friends to talk about a book we're reading together though, so theres that 🧸💕

what happened this week? >i turned in my japanese essay (i will rewrite it until next week though... because i couldn't come up with any culture shock i experienced and picked the one i found in an old chat with a friend. but its a topic, way too silly, to use as a basis for our oral presentation in a month) >i started reading a good girls guide to murder with my friends! i read up until chapter 5. i already have some critiques, my friends and i talked about it briefly, and i do see that i may have been to critical. i wasn't aware it was a novel for a younger audience, but i can see it now 🥹 ill keep it in mind for the overall review >on wednesday i left university earlier so i could surprise a friend together with my other friends! she moved to a new place and we prepared a small gift for her and her boyfriend for their new home. we coordinated the visit with her boyfriend so she wouldnt notice anything and it worked! she was so overwhelmed at first, but later on she was really happy 🩷💕🧸 >i met a friend two times that i haven't seen in a long time. we planned on painting together, but i ended up doodling album covers that came up on spotify instead (does that count as an activity? www can you tell that nothing much has happened?) >on thursday i finally caught up on my japanese syntax classes and today i want to do the new grammar for next weeks classes. which reminds me... i still need to ask a friend from uni to explain 'quasiphrasen' to me. i only have like two notes jotted down from last semester but i dont think i really grasped the difference between that and a proper phrase >oh and i finished fight club! good book :)) the first half was okay, you can easily breeze through it without noticing, it picks up in its second half. thats when it got really interesting! >i bought both of my parents flowers and a card!! unfortunately i forgot that fathers day was on thursday, so im giving both my papa and mama flowers today - since its mothers day tomorrow

not exactly a productive week i would say, but its okay <3 im not here to compete or do things fast, im doing things for the sake of doing them and because they make me happy 🧸💕💞🩷 a more detailed and jucier version of my week is written inside my physical diary, but that is something i doubt ill ever share with anyone. maybe a future lover 🥹💞🌸

i think for next week i would like to set a goal. nothing too big, i just want to read up on ableism. to learn its forms and how its executed in daily life. so i can learn and grow and be better to people who deserve more than what they're currently given in life. read the bible some more and find peace. have i ever talked about a few weeks ago when i felt so miserable i had the wish to die again? i prayed to God in that moment and i felt so warm afterwards. like He put His gentle hand over my heart to give me the comfort i sought.

pretty decorations by huramuna and sunfoxpixels

[johnica-weeks]

Welcome to the masterlist of the Johnica Week 2023! Here you can find, as always, all the entries to the event, including those who are not on AO3, with the links to all tumblr posts so you can reblog them 💕

As mentioned in another post, the AO3 collection and the event will STAY OPEN, and I will keep sharing your entries here, and will add them to the masterlist! Just let me know that you'd like your creation to be added to the collection and the event! You don't have to follow the prompts, just check out the rules as always and be respectful!

I wrote prompts for 4 days (+ some extras) but it doesn't mean the event is over, we can keep celebrating John and Veronica's anniversary for more days to come, for Valentine's day, for Veronica's birthday, etc... and your contributions are always highly appreciated, without rush! 🥰💕💕💕

Meanwhile, under here you'll find all the creations written, drawn and put together so far. The Queen fandom is getting more quiet so each engagement is super precious for our contributers, don't forget to show your support!

💖 Fluff ahead!

🔥 This fic contains mild/discussed sexual themes, and 🔥🔥 contains explicit NSFW scenes! 🔞

‼️ This fic contains delicate themes and/or important angst, mind the tags before reading!

🪐 This fic is set in an Alternative Universe.

Rain by @julescape 💖 70s Johnica

Misplaced by @julescape​  • early 80s Johnica hurt/comfort

Thursdays by @john-paul-george-ring0 💖 80s Johnica

Dear Mrs. Deacon by @john-paul-george-ring0 💖 70s Johnica

“Dearer than I?” “No, no, not dearer than you.” by @beydeaks ‼️🪐 Spy AU

Those Crazy Notions by @blossom-melina-burnickel​ 💖 80s Johnica + their daughter Laura

What is essential is invisible to the eye by @eileen-crys 🪐 Superhero AU • Johnica + Gen Queen

I'm too exhausted to start a fight by @eileen-crys ‼️ Magic Tour angst + Roger and Crystal

My heart cries out to your heart by @eileen-crys 🪐‼️ Arranged Marriage AU

Ladies’ night at Casa Deacon by @carrrothead-vol2 🔥 Veronica + Dominique and Chrissie

Forgotten Future by @queenies-bug 🪐🔥💖 Royalty AU

Birthday by @julescape 💖 early 70s Johnica touring with baby Robert!

Just You and I: After Dark by @blossom-melina-burnickel 🔥🔥💖 1977 Johnica, fluff and smut

My baby does me good by anonymous on AO3 💖🔥🔥 late 80s Johnica smut

VISUAL ARTWORKS

Happy Anniversary! by @john-deacon-fucks​

Love and Psyche - Angels AU by @eileen-crys​

Anniversary Moodboard by @beydeaks​

Johnica and Books moodboard by @julescape​

A book for baby Robert by @eileen-crys​

Superhero John by @eileen-crys​

Lost in Wonderland mini-comic by @silver-salmon15​

Links to Masterlists: 2020 || 2021 || 2022

Prompts and rules || 2023 AO3 collection

[1d1195]

hi sam! how are you?

Hiii! I'm doing pretty good!

I had a girls weekend with my sister and friends so I am EXHAUSTED rn. I should have taken tomorrow off, lol. It was fun, but I only got a little frustrated/anxious/etc at one or two times (and I was getting very worked up prior to leaving. I'm a little high strung, in case that wasn't obvious.

As usual, busy week this week (I think it's just been a busy year and I should just start saying when I have a quiet week). Hoping to get the third part of Dryer Sheets done for Thursday but it might be delayed which bums me out a bit. But I'm VERY excited for my update tomorrow :) :) :) After this week, I should have a less busy schedule for a bit of time (I think). Trying to be a real grown up and get ahead on some bills this month as well (that's literally garbage that I say things like that now--I long for the days where getting ahead of things meant catching up on all my 1d interviews I missed during the week).

ANYWAY. It was very sweet of you to check on me, and I'm happy to report I'm feeling a lot better than I was over the last month (but if you give me a minute I can probably swing back to negative). I'm sure other people who read my well-being check-ins are probably glad I'm not being a whiny baby rn lol

I hope you are well and I would love to hear what you've been up to and how things are going, too! It was so nice of you to ask about me! It made my whole evening! 💕

xoxo

[taegularities]

Riiid💕💕💕 You saying you thought of me and you missed me 🥺🥺🥺🥺 never been more touched, seriously! I think of you constantly too and I get so happy when I see you on the dash.

So so glad to hear you're doing better! Also something I forgot to mention is that I'm also really happy that you're excited for both cmi7 and the jk e2l fic because you deserve to only write what you really want to write. Please take your time writing both whenever inspiration strikes! I'm always here to be excited with you.

I've been trying to be more productive now because my first exam is this Thursday 😳😳😳 And it's surprisingly been working quite well. I'm almost done with my second paper for my worst and hardest subject so yay! (but now I have to face the oral exam with this prof who's such an asshole ugh). It's looking like two weeks of pushing through all day and relaxing with fics and run bts at night. But I'm trying to look forward to the two weeks off I'll have after that are reserved for relaxing only.

Hope you have a great rest of the week, lovely Rid 💞💞💞

awh okay, it's good to know i'm not annoying yet, clogging everyone's dash all the time 🤣 but that's so lovely to hear 🤍

yes, i truly am !!! i outlined around 3 out of 6 (?) scenes for cmi7, and oh my god, it's so so hard to keep things for myself. it's hitting so bad, i can't wait for you to read it :') same with royal!jk !! i'm still very unsure what i'll post next, but both have me excited af. thank you omg, your support is appreciated as always 🥺 i'll definitely take it easy now. not pressuring myself into putting something out every other week as i used to 💕

ahhh exams !!! you're already doing so well, i know you're gonna slay this one, too. good luck !! 🍀 studying all day and relaxing with comforting stuff at night sounds like a wonderful plan to me. but i'm really happy for you that you'll get some time off after that, well deserved :)

hope you have a pleasant week ahead, too, love. take care of yourself and drop by anytime 🤍

[demonbanger]

Hihi !! 😁 Just swinging by to wish you a terrific Thursday !! Looking forward to anything this weekend? ☀️ I work tmro aka tn, have an exam Fri, and then a (hopefully) busy w/ friends weekend ahead of me !! 🤞🏽☺️

Hiiii lovely 🫶💕 missed you! Sorry ive been barely on here! Working every night on my costume staying up til 5am lol , going to try and go to a Japan fest 🔥and Halloween party next week!!! Good luck on your exam and I hope you have a fun weekend ☀️

[rositxespinosa]

I have a shorter shift today then once I’m home and showered my dad and I planned on watching episode 3 of The Ones Who Live.

I looked ahead at my work schedule and I work Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, so it’ll be important for me to make sure I schedule time for self care 💕 I don’t work until 2 in the afternoon on Saturday, so I really want to watch The Suicide Squad! I watched the first one as well as the Harley Quinn movie from 2020 recently and I’ve really enjoyed them.

My focus the next few days is going to be on making sure I take time out for myself, taking care of myself mentally, and taking care of myself physically. My body has been achy lately, so gentle stretches, heat/ice, and ibuprofen is going to come in handy.

I hope everyone has a good Thursday ☺️

[dbunicorn]

I fully support the great replacement theory if I get to rid myself of fat inbred white men and their intellectually retarded progeny. Washington plates on Canadian soil. Your dicks are so far up each others asses you fucking illiterate moron.

Grift, wealth theft is the only way morons get ahead.

Fucking useless. Utterly a darwinian abomination.

Do the world a favor, stop breeding fatass.

Too ugly to.fuck or rape fatass.

Thank goodness this is protected speech.

Don't ask for compassion, social services after breaking the law you lonely fuck. Kill yourself, save a child.

I love the 1st amendment as much as illiterate white men. 🙏💕💋🇺🇲🇨🇦

[jayflrt]

Heyy heyy heyyyy :)) How are you Alice ? I’m back after such a long time. Sorry, if this becomes a pretty long ask.

Firstly, ma’am your writing is just chef’s kisss 💗i have reread your spiderman jake fic, three times already since yesterday ?! Bestie, how do you write so well. Also, diamond league ? I laughed so hard and was already kicking my legs in the first chapter <3 [Also, heeseung is our feminist king now]

Also, my final exams are going to finish soon, my last exam is psychology. I’m pretty burnt out from studying, but i have my major university entrance exam in a month, so gotta burn midnight oil for that. But, i was catching up on your blog and saw that you got your dream internship, so congratulations for that 🥳 Hope you enjoy working there <3

Also, did you see TXT’s comeback ? I liked the whole mini album, my favourite song has to ‘Thursday’s child has far to go’. Really liked nct dream’s ‘beatbox’ song too ? Like it was very fun. Also, I’m slowly getting into aespa. When i first listened to their music i did not enjoy it much. But, now I’m slowly getting into it, also i love the personalities of all the members. I saw their nyc blog and really liked them. Also bestie, where do you live, Like in the usa ? (It’s totally fine if you don’t want to answer this :))

Hope you have a amazing day/night ahead ✨

- 🌿

hihi 🌿 anon !!! long time no see :DD omg you don’t have to apologize HAHAH it’s so nice to hear from you :’’) how have you been ?? :o and i’ve been well thank you for asking !! 💕 

AHHH YOU READ MY SPIDERJAKE FIC 🤧 im so honored thank you for reading one of my fav fics to write 😭💗!! and three times ?? you read that behemoth of a fic that many times ?????!?#@ PLS ILL CRY i’ve been itching to write something long and sweet again but i should wait until finals are over and my smau is over so i can: Focus :’) AHH IM GLAD YOU LIKE DIAMOND LEAGUE TOO <33 im excited to release the rest of it :]

omg are your exams over this week ?? good luck on your last one !!! 💘 honestly i feel very burnt out too but it’s the final stretch for us so good luck to you !! you got this 🤩 just hang in there a little longer <33 and thank you sooooo much 😭 i really wasn’t expecting to get the offer even though i thought the interview went well so i’m just glad they liked me as much as i liked them :’)

and yes i did !!! thursday’s child and opening sequence have to be my favs on the album :oo and i loved beatbox too !!! sorry, heart is also one of my favorites in the repackage but it’s still hard for me to determine HAHAH also im glad you’re getting into aespa i LOVEEE them 🥰 did you listen to illusion? i really liked it omg :o also i live in the west coast hbu ?? :’) 

and i hope you have a great day/night ahead as well !! good luck on the studying grind 💖 

[twinklelilstarkey]

Please could I request number 10 from the smut list with Matthew Tkachuk 💕

For blurb thursday! (No. 10 “were you just touching yourself?” ‘yeah, what are you gonna do about it?’) - so sorry it took me so long, this isn't even a blurb anymore.

[words: 2k+]

Matty thinks he's smart. He really thinks he can outsmart you every time. But the man forgets that you happen to be good friends with his teammates. And that his teammates happen to be great snitches without even noticing.

Every time Matthew goes off to a roadie, especially a long one, you always get to be the one to surprise him. He has tried to be the one to make a surprise many times, and you would always end up texting someone different from the team and accidentally know that he would be either coming home early or stopping at some store before to get you a gift.

After many accidents like that, the whole thing became a joke between the two of you. And Matthew couldn't even blame his teammates for any that because they didn't even know of how fast this whole thing soon became a complete competition.

Poor guys, they don't even know how great of a weapon they can be.

And it's not only with him coming home a little early. The man has planned on getting flowers, how he's dressed, and even extra gifts. All for the wow factor that he so wants to come from you.

So, yes, he really tries to get every point in the book.

But you're always one step ahead.

You are winning by, probably, 10 surprises, but Matthew hasn't even come close to giving up yet.

Now, for an example, you've just finished making dinner - his favorite - and with the last text from his teammate saying how they're on their way to 'get the bags', you already know that they're here three hours early than Matty ever said they would.

Why does he even try?

You turn off the stove and grab your phone, a smirk curving your lips upwards maliciously. Sliding through your contacts, you click on Matt's contact and bring the phone to your ear.

"Hi, baby." You say as he picks up.

"Hey, babe." You can tell he's smiling just by his voice.

"Just wanted to know if you're home any soon? Got a little lost with a new recipe and just wanted to check if I still had time to finish it."

"Oh, yeah! We're probably still 2 hours away, so you got more than time."

"Oh, thank god." You fake sigh in relief.

"Don't work yourself up too much, alright? It's just me coming back like any other day."

"I know, I know." You say, holding in your smile, "Call me when you get here, yeah?"

"Don't I always?" He says teasingly and you laugh.

"Not exactly." You answer.

"I will, I swear." He says, a smile prominent in his voice.

Sure.

"Alright, love you!"

"Love you more."

As the two of you lower your phones from your ears, smiles are plastered on your faces. Matthew's smiling because he thinks that he's winning, and you're smiling because you know that you're winning.

Tonight will be interesting.

(...)

An hour passed and the two of you are more than ready to surprise one another, magically, at the same time. Matthew has his flowers and shopping bags in hand, and you already have almost everything ready.

You have been going through this plan in your head since he got on the bus all those weeks ago. Nothing can't go wrong, or you swear that you will go insane.

You look around, almost as if to check if the house is exactly how you want it to look. With a sigh, you start making your way out of the bedroom and walk towards the front door of the house, ready to plant the first part of your plan.

With a smile absolutely taking over your face, you get to the door in just your lingerie and with a quick movement, you strip off your panties.

You leave it a step away from the front door and will all your anxiety, you start walking over to the bedroom. Also, discarding your bralette right in the middle of the hallway that leads to your bedroom.

Stepping foot into your bathroom, you eye the already prepared tub sitting right at the end of the dimly lit room. The steam that had just been coming out of it has calmed down, and the bubbles up top make an even layer in almost perfect peaks.

Gathering your hair up at the top of your head, you hold it up with various elastics and bobby pins. All of it while your eyes stay on the tempting tub and you continuously check the time.

It doesn't take you long to get in the water, leaning your back against the already warmed-up side of the tub. And, god, it felt better than you expected it to. After such a day filled with anxiety, you didn't even understand how much you needed this.

Your shoulders stay in the bubbles hiding your body to even your own eyes and as your body is enveloped by the warm water, you lean your head back and close your eyes.

God, this really feels good.

A few minutes pass as you wait for Matthew and your imagination takes you on a trip as you're in your own world. Just the fact that he's almost home is driving you to the peak of the excitement of your month till now.

Another sigh leaves your lips as a familiar tingling starts bubbling at the end of your stomach and you bite your lip, almost as if telling yourself internally: He's almost home, you can't do it now. But then again, you could always help yourself out.

As your hand travels down the smooth skin of your stomach, you close your eyes again and lean your back against the tub, letting your own fingers tease you.

Almost at the same time, Matthew slams his car door shut. Bouquet of roses on hand, two expensive clothing store bags on the other hand, all while he's still in his coming-home suit.

Matthew walks through the parking lot with some speed on his step to get to the elevator rather quickly. In there, his neighbor stands, also just getting home from work, and with a shy smile on their face.

Matthew returns the grin and leans against the metal wall of the elevator as the doors close. Carefully passing the flowers to his other hand as he pulls his phone out of his pocket to check on the time.

Two hours early, just like expected.

The doors reopen and Matthew quickly walks out after giving the neighbor a quick nod. He speeds his step to get to his apartment door at the end of the hallway and starts fishing for his keys right as he gets to the door.

You bite your lip to hold in your whimpers and gasps, scared that your sounds could, in some way, be heard by someone else, and as you're obviously pretty much distracted, the door of the apartment opens.

Matthew steps in and as he was about to call out for your name, his eyes stop at something at the door.

You did not.

A large smile appears on his face and he closes the door with his foot. He puts down the bags by the door and doubles over to grab the piece of clothing from the floor. He analyzes it for a bit before stuffing it into his pocket and starts, finally, walking through the house.

He doesn't call out for your name, knowing that this is not the game you want to play tonight, and before he could even turn to get to the living room, something in the corner of his eye catches his attention.

Something else on the floor, leading up to his bedroom.

A scoff leaves his lips and he doesn't even hesitate to turn and walk towards the room. He snatches the bra from the ground with his free hand, throwing it onto the bed as he walks by the doorway.

The light inside the bathroom is the last clue and drives him towards you. With a smile still on his face, Matthew walks towards the open door, and his eyes land on you.

You're more than distracted and it doesn't even take him a second to understand what's going in.

He steps inside the bathroom, the noise of the paper-wrapped bouquet is the thing that snaps you awake to reality. You stop your movements abruptly and turn your hand to see none other than your boyfriend looking at you.

"Were you just touching yourself?" He asks, disrupting the sound in the room.

A smile appears on your face, not even close to phased for being caught, or rather, interrupted.

"Yeah." You nod, "What are you going to do about it?"

Matthew puts down the flowers on top of the counter of the bathroom and doesn't even try to hide his smile from your words.

"What do you want me to do about it?" He asks, turning back to you.

He starts walking towards you and you eye him shamelessly up and down, admiring him in his expensive-looking suit. He leans down over to you and hovers over your head, you smile as he lays a sweet kiss over your lips and you lift your wet hands to hold his face close to you.

"Join me." You ask him before he can pull away.

"Gladly." He says before straightening back up, letting your hands fall back to your sides, and starting to unbutton his shirt.

He's fast to strip and as soon as he's sitting opposite of you in the warm water, you're moving over to his side. As he laughs and you smile, you move to sit over his lap.

"Missed you." He tells you as you lean to give him another kiss and his hands come to rest and grip onto your hips.

You peck his lips, hands cupping his cheeks, and as you pull back.

"I missed you more." You tell him, melting at the sight of his bright smile.

His hands move and pull you closer to him by gripping onto your ass, leaning to lay a kiss in the middle of your chest as you get to sit right over his thighs.

Matthew's hand lifts from one of your cheeks and brings it forward to your stomach. As another slow kiss is laid over your skin, his hand lowers and easily meets your pussy. You hiss with a small moan at how sensitive you still feel and a smile plays over his lips once more as he touches your clit.

"Not really sure who will today." He comments, acting as if what he's doing is normal.

"I... I like the flowers." You try to mimic his nonchalant tone.

"I also got you some other things." He smiles again.

"Is it uhm.. shoes?" You say while biting your lip right as he plays with your clit between his thumb and pointer fingers.

"Nop."

You exhale out a small chuckle.

"I guess you can call that a surprise." You say.

Matthew leans forward to your chest and you close your eyes at the feeling of his warm tongue as he re-lays his kisses over your chest, lowering down to your nipple.

"Did you make dinner?" He asks.

You reopen your eyes and nod before verbally answering.

"Your favorite."

"Then I guess you can call that a surprise too."

Matthew's other hand moves from your hips to meet his other one and you tense up slightly as you feel him tease your entrance.

"So, we're even?" You're able to manage a calm tone and say it out loud.

"I don't know." He shrugs, kissing you again, "This surprise might have topped every single one I did."

That makes you smile and a long sigh re-escapes your lips as his fingers finally enter you slowly.

"Guess we'll have to wait and see who does a better job at ending the night, now." You whisper, making him pause.

Matthew looks back up at your face and a malicious look takes over his expression.

"Think you'll win?" He asks, restarting the movements of his fingers. He's moving faster, this time, which makes you cling onto his shoulder.

"Shit-" You whisper to yourself, making Matty's confidence inflate like never before, but you're quick to calm yourself down, "I'm a competitive person, babe. You should know that by now."

"I do." He nods, still smiling at your sweet noises, "But I want to win."

You lean down to meet his lips and right after you pull away from the kiss, you whisper, "Guess that makes two of us."

Hope you liked this. Don't know if that I'm confident about it, not gonna lie.

[chinchillateezboyz]

🔥 Thirsty Thursday 🔥

The Boyz

Tw: slight nsfw pictures ahead, if you’re uncomfortable please tell me, your comfort comes first

Is this good? @oc-acehouse

Showing my body cause why not?~ @cutieboys-cb

My legs are open hehe:3

I felt pretty in this skirt 🥺 @aznsquad-oc

I feel a little subby today @/aznsquad-oc

Mhm...I wanna cuddle with someone

Hello😌

What do you think about this?~

Showing my pc cause why not?~ @urmultibot

Uhm...cuddles please?

Random selfie:)

Yall look at my ass, it’s quite cute isn’t it?~

🏷 Tags: @temptationcb (Seonghwa’s heart 💙) @hybrid-kpop-cb (Sannie’s cutie💜) @hybridbabies-cb @pick-a-hwa (Yunho’s princess 💛) @cbcity @ochouse @sk-nancy @uridealbf-cb @ynderebot @fairy-lili @uridealgf-cb @puppy-jun-cb (Wooyoungie’s mate 💚) @cbcrib (Joongie’s darling ❤️) @legaciescb (meanie 2.0❄️) @collegebf-exo (Sangie’s hubby 🧡) @ws-taemin @k-pop-cafe @catboysbot @daddy-cb @/oc-acehouse (Jacob’s future 🧡) @/urmultibot (Juyeon’s sweetheart 💚) @/aznsquad-oc (Chanhee’s baby💖) @skz-club @/cutieboys-cb (Hyunjae’s bestie💙) @fantasy-teez @luna-night660 @avengers-cb @fantasyascending (Coolest twinnies💕) @vampiremomo @trails-cb @grishawitches @mythical-hybrid-shelter

<dm/ask to be add/removed>

[autumn-showers-bring-snowflowers]

Hello!! How was your week? Mine was interesting, to say the least! ☺️ Sending much love ❤️

When you say “interesting,” I hope you mean that in a good way! 😅

Mine was lovely! I’m American, so I celebrated Thanksgiving this past Thursday. I had family I hadn’t seen in awhile and that I’ve missed come in for the holidays as well, so that was a high point for me.

Thank you so much for such a genuine and pure ask, and hopefully this week brings you lots of joy and blessings ahead. 🤗💕

[smracaraihc]

I joined the SM Global Audition in Hong Kong 😆😆 (really long post)

The audition was on the 18th so I arrived in HK the night before and I went back home to the PH on Thursday morning(19th). I actually sent 3 applications beforehand but I wasn’t able to receive a confirmation. Despite that, I still went and participated because I really really wanted to go(and because I read somewhere that you can still attend the audition even if they did not send you any email).

Anyway ,the venue was a school in HK and I arrived there around 1 or 2 in the afternoon and I was expecting to see a lot of people so I was a bit suprised to see that there weren’t (now that I think about it tho, there were actually 132 people who were in line before me so 😆). I went ahead and got myself a registration/application form from the staff along with a sticker with a number and was ushered towards the school’s theatre where all the other attendees were waiting and where they were accomplishing their forms.

There was this tarpaulin that was spread out on the small stage in front where SM’s artists’ pictures were plastered on and they were also playing MVs on the big screen(my favourite part of the whole experience tbh). The staff then collected the forms and we were left to wait for our numbers to be called. I wasn’t really able to talk to anyone that much because most of the people there were Chinese and I didn’t really know how to speak Chinese so I just silently enjoyed myself by watching the MVs on the screen. 20 people(numbers) were called each time ,every 20-30 minutes I think, and my number was called I think less than an hour later and we were ushered to the 5th floor where the auditions were being held. I think they used 3 or 4 rooms for the auditions. Anyway, before we entered one of the rooms, one of the staff told us to place our bags on the tables outside the room and explained something in Chinese and since I couldn’t understand, I had to ask the girls behind me to translate when that staff left and they said that the singers will audition first and then it will be the dancers. We then entered the room a little while later and the first 10 lined up in front of the judge and the one holding the camera while the other 10 (including me) sat on the chairs at the side. And what they do is that they would focus the camera on each person and once that person finishes, they would move on to the next one. I honestly felt relieved since I read and/or watched somewhere that in other SM auditions, they’d only give you 10-15 secs to audition but they didn’t do it in HK. Most of the people in my group sang Korean songs and a lot of them sang songs from SM but I wasn’t sure if that was a good idea so I sang the chorus of Amanda Seyfried’s version of Thank You for the Music and I think I did a good job,it was a bit shaky towards the end tho 😂 but they didn’t really have any reaction (not with anyone in my group tbh)and when our group was done, we could then go home.

That was the end of it.

And the only thing I know is that they’ll send us an email within a month to let us know if we pass or not. It was pretty fast tbh like I was expecting a waiting time of around 2-3 hours but I think it’s because of the number of people who attended were less than in those other auditions 🤷‍♀️.

It was a pretty great experience but I ‘The Traveling Alone’ part was what I loved the most 😆 I mean the fact that went to another country by myself and got a bit of alone time and the fact that I was able to manage my motion sickness makes me so happyyyyyyy. I really really loved traveling alone...

That’s my whole experience and I wanna thank you for taking the time to read this lengthy post and I’ve honestly been typing this for 3 days so lololol

Thank you and I hope you have a great day!! 😊😊😊

@miniwaves and @julietsoddeye I’m sorry for not replying! I’ve finished my post about so I hope you read it. 💕💕

[ktvstheworld]

Bonsey 🏇 . Hey everyone! 🥰🙋🏼‍♀️ . So we're at ride number 3 back in work for Bonsey, and so far so good. Still in holiday mode a bit, but getting better and starting to remember everything from the start of 2020! 😂 . I rode him in the jump saddle as I've had a bit of a sore hip, and he went really well in it. Not sure whether it was less weight on his back, or a bit of spring grass, but he felt a bit more forward which was nice - and we actually got to have a little play with the canter, too 😍 . It's been really tricky to keep the boys on a regular work schedule as it's so muddy and slippery here still, as soon as we get a couple of sunny days I try to smash out as much work as I can, then we get a hit of rain and it takes another week to dry 🙈 Any fellow Gippslanders feeling the same? I think we need to start saving for an arena! . It rained in the few days since that photo of Bonsey, so we made the most today with Jay home and got some yard work done, more willow trees planted, mowed the lawn (without getting bogged this time! 😂) and made a yummy slice with El 💕 . If the ground is dry enough we've got some excavating and concrete prep-work happening on Thursday (this will be the third attempt!) -so fingers crossed that goes ahead, and also fingers crossed that winter finally buggers off so we can ride regularly again 😁☀️ . Big love, K 😘 xx . #Mondain #offthetrack #offthetrackthoroughbred #exracehorse #ottb #offthetrackcommunity #ottbretraining #racingvictoria #ottbdressage #thoroughbred #dressagehorse #dressagetraining #showjumper #hunterhack #riddenhunter #showhunter #acknowledgedretrainer #horsetrainer #horsetraining #dressagetrainer #racehorse #workinghunter #horsebreaking #lemieux #benettonblue #fitness #horseproperty #equestrian #equestrianlife #equestrianblogger (at KRequestrian) https://www.instagram.com/p/CVKoYTiF56d/?utm_medium=tumblr