#Blemish Control
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Cutishine Face Wash 70gmÂ
Cutishine Face Wash is a daily cleansing face wash for oily skin. It is ideal for cleansing to reduce excess oil, sebum, and skin dullness. That refreshes, rejuvenates, brightens, and mattifies the skin. Salicylic acid can help to reduce acne by unclogging blocked pores.
https://www.cureka.com/shop/skin-care/cleansers/face-wash/cutishine-face-wash-70gm/
#Skincare#Face Wash#Acne Treatment#Oil Control#Dermatologist Recommended#Gentle Cleanser#Oily Skin#Anti-Acne#Daily Cleanser#Pore Cleansing#Blemish Control#Skin Care Routine#Dermatology Product#Hydrating Cleanser#Paraben-Free
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The Amazing Uses of Tea Tree Oil: Nature's Versatile Elixir
Tea tree oil, also known as melaleuca oil, is a natural essential oil derived from the leaves of the Australian tea tree (Melaleuca alternifolia). Renowned for its potent antiseptic properties, this versatile elixir has been used for centuries as a holistic remedy. In this blog, weâll explore the myriad of ways you can incorporate tea tree oil into your daily routine and reap its numerousâŚ
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#acne treatment#Anti-inflammatory#Antibacterial#Antiseptic properties#Aromatherapy#Blemish control#Carrier oil#dandruff#Diffuser#Disinfectant#Eco-friendly cleaning#Essential oil#First-aid#Fungal infections#Haircare#Holistic remedy#Household cleaner#Immune support#Melaleuca alternifolia#Nail health#Natural antifungal#Natural beauty#Natural remedy#Patch test#Scalp health#Sensitive skin#skincare#Stress relief#tea tree oil#Wound care
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Best Acne Removal Gel by Rawls
Combat acne effectively with Rawls Acne Removal Gel. Specially crafted with natural ingredients, this gentle formula targets breakouts, reduces inflammation, and controls excess oil for a clearer complexion. Suitable for sensitive skin and Oily, it offers a soothing solution to acne troubles. Elevate your skincare routine with Rawls' range of natural skin and haircare products.
Website:https://rawls.in/products/rawls-acne-removal-corrector-face-gel-for-sensitive-skin
#: acne removal gel#acne scar removal gel#sebum control gel#blemish gel#acne gel for face#acne gel for oily skin#acne gel for sensitive skin#acne control gel#pore minimizing gel
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Renew Your Skin with Facial Treatments at HereSpa | Classic, Anti-Aging, Men's & More.
Indulge in rejuvenating facial treatments at HereSpa, including classic hydrating, anti-aging revitalization, and acne control facials. Book your appointment now!
#Classic Hydrating Facial#Express Refresh Facial#Anti-Aging Revitalization Facial#Men's Essential Facial#Acne & Blemish Control Facial#Sensitive Skin Soothing Facial#Diamond Microdermabrasion Facial
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CeraVe Blemish Control Gel
https://plazza.pk/product/cerave-blemish-control-gel
CeraVe Blemish Control Gel for Clear and Hydrated Skin available in Pakistan
CeraVe Blemish Control Gel, the first alcohol-free clear gel acne treatment that effectively treats and prevents blemishes. In this article, weâll delve into the wonders of CeraVe Blemish Control Gel, a high-quality product suitable for both young and mature skin. Say goodbye to acne woes and hello to clear, hydrated, and beautiful skin.
The Battle with Acne CeraVe Gel
Acne is a common skin concern affecting people of all ages, causing not only physical but also emotional distress. Countless products claim to provide acne solutions, but only a few deliver actual results. This leads to frustration and disappointment, leaving individuals desperate for a remedy that genuinely works.
The Breakthrough Solution
Amidst the sea of skincare products, CeraVe Gel stands out as a game-changer. Developed by experts, it offers a revolutionary approach to acne treatment, bringing an end to the traditional, alcohol-based formulas that often leave the skin dry and irritated.
How Does CeraVe Gel Work?
CeraVe Gelâs secret lies in its unique formulation, featuring powerful yet gentle ingredients that combat blemishes without compromising skin health. The gel works to unclog pores, control excess oil production, and reduce inflammation, all while keeping the skin hydrated.
Key Ingredients for Blemish Control
The magic of CeraVe Gel lies in its carefully selected ingredients, such as benzoyl peroxide, niacinamide, and hyaluronic acid. Each component plays a vital role in combating acne, providing a multifaceted solution for clearer skin.
The Science Behind Alcohol-Free Formulation
Unlike many acne treatments, CeraVe Gel is completely alcohol-free. This decision is backed by scientific research, as alcohol can strip the skin of its natural moisture and cause irritation, leading to more breakouts. CeraVe Gel ensures your skin stays healthy and well-hydrated throughout the treatment.
Gentle Yet Effective: Suitable for All Ages
One of the remarkable qualities of CeraVe Gel is its suitability for all ages. Whether youâre a teenager dealing with hormonal acne or an adult facing occasional breakouts, this gel is designed to cater to all skin types and concerns.
The Importance of Hydration in Skincare
Often overlooked, proper hydration is essential for maintaining healthy skin. CeraVe Gel not only treats acne but also helps lock in moisture, promoting a radiant and supple complexion.
How to Incorporate CeraVe Gel into Your Skincare Routine?
To reap the full benefits of CeraVe Gel, itâs essential to use it correctly in your daily skincare routine. Weâll guide you on the best practices to maximize its efficacy.
Pro Tips for Best Results
Enhance the results of CeraVe Gel with some expert tips and tricks that can make a significant difference in your skincare journey.
Addressing Common Misconceptions About CeraVe Gel
As with any popular product, myths and misconceptions surround CeraVe Gel. We debunk the most common ones to help you make an informed decision.
Customer Reviews: Real People, Real Results
Still skeptical? Read through real customer reviews to witness the transformative impact of CeraVe Gel on various skin types.
Side Effects and Precautions
While CeraVe Gel is well-tolerated by most, itâs essential to be aware of potential side effects and take necessary precautions to ensure a safe skincare experience.
CeraVe Gel vs. Traditional Acne Treatments
Compare CeraVe Gel with traditional acne treatments, highlighting its unique features and advantages.
In conclusion, CeraVe Gel is a breakthrough in the world of acne treatments. Its alcohol-free formula, combined with powerful yet gentle ingredients, sets it apart from conventional solutions. With CeraVe Gel, you can bid farewell to blemishes and embrace clear, hydrated, and radiant skin.
#Acne treatment for young skin#Alcohol-free acne treatment#Benzoyl peroxide benefits for acne#Best acne treatment gel#CeraVe Blemish Control Gel benefits#CeraVe Gel before and after results#CeraVe Gel for blemishes#CeraVe Gel for mature skin#CeraVe Gel for sensitive skin#CeraVe Gel ingredients#CeraVe Gel review#CeraVe Gel side effects#CeraVe Gel user reviews#CeraVe Gel vs. traditional acne treatments#Clear acne with CeraVe Gel#Clear skin with CeraVe Gel#Effective acne treatment for all ages#How to use CeraVe Gel#Hydrating acne treatment#Niacinamide for acne
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Cerave Resurfacing Retinol Serum
Cerave Resurfacing Retinol Serum in Pakistan
Introduction to Cerave Resurfacing Retinol Serum
In the quest for radiant and youthful skin, Cerave Resurfacing Serum emerges as a promising solution. This serum is formulated to tackle skin texture irregularities, such as fine lines, uneven tone, and mild discoloration. By harnessing the power of retinol, a derivative of vitamin A, this product aims to rejuvenate your skinâs appearance and restore its natural glow.
Understanding Retinol and Its Benefits
Retinol, often hailed as a skincare miracle worker, is renowned for its remarkable benefits. It promotes cell turnover, unclogs pores, and stimulates collagen production, leading to smoother and firmer skin. Cerave Resurfacing Serum utilizes this potent ingredient to target common skin issues that can result from sun exposure, aging, and environmental factors.
The Science Behind Cerave Resurfacing Retinol Serum
Cerave takes a science-driven approach in crafting its Resurfacing Retinol Serum. The serumâs advanced formulation ensures the gradual release of retinol, minimizing the risk of irritation while maximizing effectiveness. This sustained delivery system allows the active ingredient to penetrate deeply, working to diminish imperfections over time.
Key Ingredients and Their Functions
Apart from retinol, Ceraveâs serum incorporates ceramides and hyaluronic acid. Ceramides strengthen the skinâs natural barrier, locking in moisture and protecting against external aggressors. Hyaluronic acid, on the other hand, keeps the skin hydrated and plump, reducing the appearance of fine lines.
Incorporating the Serum into Your Skincare Routine
To reap the rewards of Cerave Retinol Serum, integrate it into your evening skincare regimen. Begin by cleansing your face thoroughly and patting it dry. Apply a pea-sized amount of the serum, gently massaging it onto your skin. Follow up with a nourishing moisturizer to maintain hydration.
Addressing Common Concerns and Misconceptions
Itâs natural to have concerns about introducing retinol into your routine. Common worries include potential irritation and sensitivity. However, Ceraveâs thoughtful formulation minimizes these risks, and by starting with a lower concentration and gradually increasing usage, you can help your skin adjust.
Achieving Optimal Results: Tips and Tricks
For optimal results, consistency is key. Incorporate sun protection into your daytime routine to shield your skin from UV damage, as retinol can increase sun sensitivity. Additionally, consider pairing Cerave Resurfacing Serum with other Cerave products to create a comprehensive skincare routine.
Real People, Real Results: Success Stories
Numerous individuals have experienced transformative outcomes with Cerave Retinol Serum. From diminished fine lines to a more even skin tone, these success stories highlight the serumâs efficacy across various skin types and concerns.
Potential Side Effects and How to Mitigate Them
While Cerave Resurfacing Serum is well-tolerated by most, some users might experience initial dryness, redness, or flaking. These effects are often temporary and can be minimized by using a gentle cleanser and moisturizer and adjusting the frequency of application as needed.
Pros and Cons of Cerave Resurfacing Retinol Serum:
Pros:
Effective Skin Renewal:Â Cerave Resurfacing Retinol Serum contains retinol, a potent ingredient that promotes skin cell turnover, helping to reveal fresher, smoother skin over time. Diminished Fine Lines and Wrinkles:Â Regular use of this serum can lead to a reduction in the appearance of fine lines and wrinkles, contributing to a more youthful complexion. Even Skin Tone:Â The serumâs retinol content can help fade dark spots, hyperpigmentation, and uneven skin tone, resulting in a more uniform complexion. Minimized Pores:Â Retinol aids in unclogging pores, reducing their appearance and minimizing the likelihood of breakouts. Stimulated Collagen Production:Â By stimulating collagen synthesis, Cerave Retinol Serum helps improve skin elasticity and firmness. Hydration Boost:Â With the inclusion of ceramides and hyaluronic acid, the serum helps maintain skin hydration, leaving it plump and supple. Sustained Release Formula:Â The serumâs gradual release technology minimizes the risk of irritation while ensuring consistent results over time. Non-Comedogenic:Â The serum is formulated to be non-comedogenic, reducing the likelihood of clogged pores and breakouts. Suitable for Various Skin Types:Â Cerave Resurfacing Serum is designed to be suitable for a range of skin types, including sensitive skin. Affordable Option:Â Compared to other retinol products on the market, this serum offers an effective solution at a reasonable price point.
Cons:
Initial Irritation:Â Some users may experience initial redness, dryness, or flaking as their skin adjusts to retinol. This is a common but temporary side effect. Sun Sensitivity:Â Retinol can increase skinâs sensitivity to the sun. Sun protection is essential when using this serum to prevent UV damage. Gradual Results:Â While some improvements may be noticeable in a few weeks, optimal results often require several months of consistent use. Not Suitable for Pregnant Individuals:Â Pregnant individuals should consult a healthcare provider before using retinol products. Interaction with Other Actives:Â Combining retinol with other active ingredients can sometimes lead to irritation. Introduce new products cautiously. May Not Address Severe Concerns:Â For severe skin issues, such as deep wrinkles or extensive pigmentation, a dermatologist-guided treatment plan may be more suitable. Not a Quick Fix:Â Achieving desired results with Cerave Resurfacing Retinol Serum requires patience and dedication to a consistent skincare routine. Possible Allergic Reactions:Â While the formula is designed to be gentle, thereâs always a chance of allergic reactions or sensitivities to certain ingredients. Potential for Overuse:Â More doesnât necessarily mean better with retinol. Overuse can lead to excessive dryness and irritation. Results Vary:Â Individual responses to retinol can vary greatly, so what works for one person may not yield the same results for another.
Embrace Smoother, Revitalized Skin
Incorporating Cerave Resurfacing Retinol Serum into your skincare routine can be a game-changer. By harnessing the power of retinol alongside nourishing ingredients, this serum offers a holistic approach to achieving smoother, revitalized skin. With consistent use and proper care, you can unlock a renewed sense of confidence in your complexion.
#cerava blemish control serum#Cerave#Cerave deep cleansing serum#Cerave Resurfacing Retinol Serum#Cerave Resurfacing serum#Cerave Retinol Serum#Cerave serum#Cerave serum in Pakistan#Cerave serum price#Cerave skincare serum
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I hate you anti-aging serum, I hate you youthful glow, I hate you strawberry scented purifying concentrate, I hate that every young person is fed this belief that they have to look a certain way to be loved when every person regardless of how they look or how old the are deserve to be loved
I hate you snake oil sellers who disguise yourself as health and wellness professionals, you will be worm food and we will rot the same.
#mom bought me a bunch of expensive moisturizers#serums#cleansers#brighteners#pore shrinkers#anti-aging#anti-redness#smooth finish bullshit#she bought them for my sister and I for Christmas#a trillion dollar industry that profits off of every single afab I know#hair skin nails teeth#12 step routines#day and night applications#to control your blemishes and breakouts#I read every packaging label and study it so I make sure to do every step correctly and not screw anything up#otherwise risk breaking out even more#no matter how many expensive creams and serums and scrubs and exfoliants and every stupid liquid stuck in a bottle#I will never be allowed to love the person I am without it all#isnât that#something#tw vent#personal vent
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Cerave Resurfacing Retinol Serum
Cerave Resurfacing Retinol Serum in Pakistan
Introduction to Cerave Resurfacing Retinol Serum
In the quest for radiant and youthful skin, Cerave Resurfacing Serum emerges as a promising solution. This serum is formulated to tackle skin texture irregularities, such as fine lines, uneven tone, and mild discoloration. By harnessing the power of retinol, a derivative of vitamin A, this product aims to rejuvenate your skinâs appearance and restore its natural glow.
Understanding Retinol and Its Benefits
Retinol, often hailed as a skincare miracle worker, is renowned for its remarkable benefits. It promotes cell turnover, unclogs pores, and stimulates collagen production, leading to smoother and firmer skin. Cerave Resurfacing Serum utilizes this potent ingredient to target common skin issues that can result from sun exposure, aging, and environmental factors.
The Science Behind Cerave Resurfacing Retinol Serum
Cerave takes a science-driven approach in crafting its Resurfacing Retinol Serum. The serumâs advanced formulation ensures the gradual release of retinol, minimizing the risk of irritation while maximizing effectiveness. This sustained delivery system allows the active ingredient to penetrate deeply, working to diminish imperfections over time.
Key Ingredients and Their Functions
Apart from retinol, Ceraveâs serum incorporates ceramides and hyaluronic acid. Ceramides strengthen the skinâs natural barrier, locking in moisture and protecting against external aggressors. Hyaluronic acid, on the other hand, keeps the skin hydrated and plump, reducing the appearance of fine lines.
Incorporating the Serum into Your Skincare Routine
To reap the rewards of Cerave Retinol Serum, integrate it into your evening skincare regimen. Begin by cleansing your face thoroughly and patting it dry. Apply a pea-sized amount of the serum, gently massaging it onto your skin. Follow up with a nourishing moisturizer to maintain hydration.
Addressing Common Concerns and Misconceptions
Itâs natural to have concerns about introducing retinol into your routine. Common worries include potential irritation and sensitivity. However, Ceraveâs thoughtful formulation minimizes these risks, and by starting with a lower concentration and gradually increasing usage, you can help your skin adjust.
Achieving Optimal Results: Tips and Tricks
For optimal results, consistency is key. Incorporate sun protection into your daytime routine to shield your skin from UV damage, as retinol can increase sun sensitivity. Additionally, consider pairing Cerave Resurfacing Serum with other Cerave products to create a comprehensive skincare routine.
Real People, Real Results: Success Stories
Numerous individuals have experienced transformative outcomes with Cerave Retinol Serum. From diminished fine lines to a more even skin tone, these success stories highlight the serumâs efficacy across various skin types and concerns.
Potential Side Effects and How to Mitigate Them
While Cerave Resurfacing Serum is well-tolerated by most, some users might experience initial dryness, redness, or flaking. These effects are often temporary and can be minimized by using a gentle cleanser and moisturizer and adjusting the frequency of application as needed.
Pros and Cons of Cerave Resurfacing Retinol Serum:
Pros:
Effective Skin Renewal:Â Cerave Resurfacing Retinol Serum contains retinol, a potent ingredient that promotes skin cell turnover, helping to reveal fresher, smoother skin over time. Diminished Fine Lines and Wrinkles:Â Regular use of this serum can lead to a reduction in the appearance of fine lines and wrinkles, contributing to a more youthful complexion. Even Skin Tone:Â The serumâs retinol content can help fade dark spots, hyperpigmentation, and uneven skin tone, resulting in a more uniform complexion. Minimized Pores:Â Retinol aids in unclogging pores, reducing their appearance and minimizing the likelihood of breakouts. Stimulated Collagen Production:Â By stimulating collagen synthesis, Cerave Retinol Serum helps improve skin elasticity and firmness. Hydration Boost:Â With the inclusion of ceramides and hyaluronic acid, the serum helps maintain skin hydration, leaving it plump and supple. Sustained Release Formula:Â The serumâs gradual release technology minimizes the risk of irritation while ensuring consistent results over time. Non-Comedogenic:Â The serum is formulated to be non-comedogenic, reducing the likelihood of clogged pores and breakouts. Suitable for Various Skin Types:Â Cerave Resurfacing Serum is designed to be suitable for a range of skin types, including sensitive skin. Affordable Option:Â Compared to other retinol products on the market, this serum offers an effective solution at a reasonable price point.
Cons:
Initial Irritation:Â Some users may experience initial redness, dryness, or flaking as their skin adjusts to retinol. This is a common but temporary side effect. Sun Sensitivity:Â Retinol can increase skinâs sensitivity to the sun. Sun protection is essential when using this serum to prevent UV damage. Gradual Results:Â While some improvements may be noticeable in a few weeks, optimal results often require several months of consistent use. Not Suitable for Pregnant Individuals:Â Pregnant individuals should consult a healthcare provider before using retinol products. Interaction with Other Actives:Â Combining retinol with other active ingredients can sometimes lead to irritation. Introduce new products cautiously. May Not Address Severe Concerns:Â For severe skin issues, such as deep wrinkles or extensive pigmentation, a dermatologist-guided treatment plan may be more suitable. Not a Quick Fix:Â Achieving desired results with Cerave Resurfacing Retinol Serum requires patience and dedication to a consistent skincare routine. Possible Allergic Reactions:Â While the formula is designed to be gentle, thereâs always a chance of allergic reactions or sensitivities to certain ingredients. Potential for Overuse:Â More doesnât necessarily mean better with retinol. Overuse can lead to excessive dryness and irritation. Results Vary:Â Individual responses to retinol can vary greatly, so what works for one person may not yield the same results for another.
Embrace Smoother, Revitalized Skin
Incorporating Cerave Resurfacing Retinol Serum into your skincare routine can be a game-changer. By harnessing the power of retinol alongside nourishing ingredients, this serum offers a holistic approach to achieving smoother, revitalized skin. With consistent use and proper care, you can unlock a renewed sense of confidence in your complexion.
#cerava blemish control serum#Cerave#Cerave deep cleansing serum#Cerave Resurfacing Retinol Serum#Cerave Resurfacing serum#Cerave Retinol Serum#Cerave serum#Cerave serum in Pakistan#Cerave serum price#Cerave skincare serum
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PAINTED ALL MY NIGHTS
summary â your mommy was mean, but your daddy could be downright cruel. it makes for an interesting night when they both decide to leave you wanting until youâre not sure how much more teasing you can take, and even then, theyâre not going to give in easily
warning(s) â established relationship, daddy kink, mommy kink, mild pet play, dumbification, humiliation, degradation, praise, teasing, butt plugs, dry humping, shoe humping, inspection kink, oral, fingering, choking, crying, pussy spanking, mentions of chastity belts, begging, orgasm control/denial, edging, overstimulation, forced orgasms, squirting, oral fixation (brief), finger sucking, Âżarousal tasting?, mean mommy wanda, cruel daddy natty, aftercare, men/minors dni
A soft current of chilled air swept beneath the thick desk your body remained crammed beneath, adding goosebumps to the array of blemishes against your satin skin. How youâd managed to acquire a collage of bruises on your shins wasnât quite a mystery, but like a canvas speckled with vibrant acrylic paints, the evidence of their existence was undeniable and honestly laughable. The summer heat was thick, falling over your quaint little town as if its intention was purely to suffocate those that resided near the shorelines of New Jersey, but even beneath an office desk, curled into a tight ball, head resting on plush thighs the color of warm sand, the low thrum of the air conditioner remained a steady presence keeping you cool. A hum, softer than a whisper stolen in a overstimulating crowd, slipped off your lips when manicured fingers the color of divine cherries embedded themselves within your undone hair, scratching tenderly at your scalp that had yearned for attention since youâd wiggled your way underneath the desk your girlfriend worked at. That was how youâd acquired so many faint yet assuredly purple bruises, crawling across wooden floorboards and banging your limbs on hard wooden corners just trying to be close to the women that you love.Â
Your eyes, a beautiful definition of color that had somehow become the lifeline your girlfriends hadnât known theyâd been missing until they met you, looked up, just barely able to steal a glance at the woman working at the desk you sat beneath. Her own eyes, a kaleidoscope of unreplicable blues and greens, were trained to the litany of emails that had collected since the night before when sheâd sat in the same place for hours attempting to respond to them all. Perhaps you had been ignorant, but before your world had been remade into what it current is, youâd never given professional trainers much thought; had never dwelled on the profession long enough to consider how in demand they are amongst military units and police squads, but your girlfriend, the one who was just slightly older than the other, had made a name for herself out of that very profession, and each day that she wasnât stolen from you by obligations to train the cities sharpest officers, she spent an unhealthy amount of hours answering emails that all demanded to know when she was free next, and how far she was willing to travel for her services.Â
âYou okay down there, puppy?â The tone of her voice was low, and admittedly husky from minimal use throughout the endless day that had befallen you, but equally soft as it fell against your attention deprived heart and showered you in warmth that wasnât nearly as cruel as the unwavering heat that plagued the streets of West View. A sweet blush fell over your cheeks, a strangled whine slipping off your lips as you rocked your hips against the wooden floorboards, searching for something more; something adamantly forbidden. âUse your words, please.âÂ
With a displeased grunt, your brain foggy despite the little action your wanting body had seen since youâd woken up tangled within cold bed sheets, you pieced together a simple sentence, direct enough to convey your desperation, but just sweet enough that your workaholic girlfriend would forgive your bluntness easily. âWant you.â It was so simple, so telling, so pure, and yet it wouldnât be enough to convince her and you knew that. Your Mommy was mean, that was an unchanging factor in your sexual endeavors, but your Daddy could be downright cruel if she felt like it.Â
Another hum filled the air, though hers was prominent, filled with simple dominance that made your belly coil in unattainable pleasure and fear. âIs that so?â She chided, not tearing her gaze away from her desktop screen for even a second to take in the sight of you curled up so sweetly in a ball by her feet. Had she looked down, taken just a simple glance at your disheveled state, she wouldâve noticed the dark patch adorning the center of your cotton panties, she wouldâve noticed the way your pebbled nipples poked through the thin tank top clinging to your torso in an effortlessly enticing manor, she wouldâve noticed your desperation glazed eyes and arousal flush cheeks, but she didnât, and you knew that it was purposeful. She was diminishing you to be nothing but her brainless pet, and as hard as you fought to stay coherent and clear-minded throughout her trickery, it was working too well.Â
Youâd known the game she was wanting to play since sheâd coaxed you into taking one of the fancier plugs that had been purchased for your puckered hole early that mid-morning. Youâd been eager to play, wiggling your hips and pushing back on the fingers that gently worked you open at a pace so slow it rivaled drying paint, but sheâd found restraint since the last time youâd played this game, and patience was ever so slowly ebbing away from your wanting body. A whine, high pitched and entirely petulant fell off of your lips when nothing was given to you in the aftermath of her taunt. You rooted harder against the light oak floorboards, bracing your palms mere inches in front of your body, hoping that the balanced pressure would provide you relief, but all youâd accomplished was alerting her of your sneaky actions, and so carelessly a shoe covered foot jutted out to become your undoing. A sob broke through your lips the second her shoe nestled itself between your trembling thighs, giving you a silent ultimatum that unfortunately, you werenât desperate enough to take up just yet. The unspoken demand was simple; ride her shoe or stop whining, but humiliation was engraved in the degrading task, and your brain, a helpless pile of submissive mush, hadnât been undone quite enough to take the bait.Â
Settling back against the floorboards like youâd been prior to your short-lived act of defiance, her shoe a bulky presence beneath your body giving just enough pleasure to not be forgotten about entirely, you dropped your flush cheek to her upper-shin once more, nipping at her unblemished skin in frustration. Her fingers were quick to reprimand you, nestling into your undone hair and pulling sharply, giving you no ounce of grace despite being the cause of your misbehaving.Â
Another hour passed after that without so much as a glance in your direction, and then another, and then another, until the sun was sinking beneath the shorelines of New Jersey being replaced by moonlight that glimmered against every reflective surface in the home office. Your girlfriend, the artist, was due home soon. Sheâd been called away to her gallery early, preparations for a mid-season showcase taking up most of her time nowadays, but you could always count on her comforting presence before the canvas of sunset could melt away entirely. You whined as you shifted against the floors, rocking your sopping cunt into your girlfriend's shoe incidentally, an electric pulse of pleasure shooting up your spine and tangling into the center of your belly where one off sparks had been shooting off at for hours. It hadnât been intentional, your only intention had been to relieve your aching bones for a few simple seconds, but instead you found yourself tethered to the source of pleasure you found despite the humiliation that just barely crossed your mind, and again, your hips rocked, and again, pleasure shot through you like a bullet train.Â
If your girlfriend noticed how you humped her shoe and clung to her leg and whined and whimpered and twitched with pleasure, which she most definitely did, nothing was said. There was no demand to stop that followed your curious movements, no assurance that despite your disgusting act you were good, so good, no verbal humiliation regarding how disgustingly needy your brainless pussy was. There was nothing, and the lack of attention only brought forth a new wave of discomfort. You cried out helplessly, uncoordinated movements becoming sloppy and desperate, but the tears that spilled down your cheeks like tantalizing rivulets did nothing to interfere with her concentration. It was becoming equally too much and not enough, the game was becoming less fun, less enticing, but you wanted her, and you needed her, and you hoped that eventually, before your thoughts spiraled so deep into despair that only Wanda could pull you back up, that she would notice.Â
Miraculously, she did. When your grinding slowed, and your sobs intensified, and you werenât sure if you were trembling as a result of found pleasure or desperation for her, she reached down, corralling you into her lap with gentle movements and tender touches. Your sodden panties dragged along the thin material of her biker shorts, and with a mind of their own, your hips searched for relief against her, grinding and humping and wiggling so intensely that the chair rocked in time with your movements. Your face found peace in the shallowest pit of her neck, lips sucking marks onto her smooth skin, tears dampening strands of hair that had become trapped between your body and hers.Â
âSuch a good girl, I have. The best girl. The best puppy.â She cooed softly, her fingers holding tightly to your waist, guiding your movements with leisure, inching you closer and closer to an explosion of relief that would have you falling deep into a pit of paralyzing submission for hours. When her other hand, the one that had never been laid against your waist, dipped further down, gliding against your spine until it reached the swell of your ass, you realized just briefly that this had been the end goal the entire time. She wanted you pliable in her hands, she wanted you so desperate that despite your conflicting emotions you sought pleasure from her simple body. A sharp moan fell into the air when soft fingers pressed against the plug nestled between the globes of your ass. The plug, a heart shaped jewel the color of your favorite shade of pink, pressed into you firmly, not entirely dissimilar to how it had pressed into you when you sat flush against the floorboards, but there was an added spark now that her fingers were the one provoking such sensations. âNo, you donât get to cum. Just feel it, pretty puppy. Just enjoy how good Daddyâs making you feel.â She was quick to reaffirm that forbidden rule, and your tears were quick to start again, blubbering sobs and pleas falling off your lips and you ground your clothed core into hers, your clit catching on the waistband of her biker shorts each time she guided you higher.Â
âMy my, whatâs going on in here?â Another voice, a softer voice, broke through the heavy fog restricting your mind from fully recognizing whatâs happening around you. You hadnât heard the front door close, hadnât heard her heels clanking against the floorboards as she discarded her blazer in the living room and set her thermos of coffee down on the kitchen island, you hadnât heard her kick off her stilettos by the stairs before she padded her way up to Natashaâs office. You hadnât heard any of it, but you heard her now, and you reached for her with determination, your face flush and damp with tears that your Daddy was far too proud to have been the result of.Â
âM-Mommy!â You sobbed weakly, sparks of pleasure still paralyzing you in place on Natashaâs lap, however with Wanda home now, with your Mommy present, you could only hope that relief would make its way to your pulsating clit quickly. She never could resist the sight of your tear stained face, even if Natasha found it delectable. Mommy was hard, she was firm and she was ruthless, but at the end of the day you were just her precious little baby eager for attention and she was more than happy to give you that. It was Daddyâs puppy that could endure the wrath of denial and endless teasing, but now, your brain lingered on the verge of two headspaces that clashed so violently it was as if two separate people resided within your desires and neither one was ready to relinquish control, and your overstimulated, underwhelmed body wasnât quite sure where to settle in the aftermath of such an emotionally charged lead up to this moment. Everything was too much, but nothing was enough to state the desire burning holes into your judgment. Natasha had broken you. That had been the game all along, you were just too naive to realize until now. Youâd played the part of a dumb puppy seamlessly, grinding on her shoe, on her lap, biting at her legs and at her neck⌠youâd been the perfect puppy for a few agonizing hours, but now you were ready to be Mommyâs baby; her spoiled little princess.Â
âOh no, Mommyâs not going to save you now, little minx. You look so pretty making a mess on your Daddyâs lap.â Wandaâs laugh was your favorite sound. It was sweet and twinged with innocence, despite the hardships that had befallen her in life, but as if fell over you now, as it crashed against your shorelines it was harsh and unforgiving, cold and threateningly eerie. A sob rippled through your chest, and pathetically your head fell against Natashaâs shoulders, your hips fumbling to an abrupt stop as you gave up. It was too much, it was all too much. You needed your Mommy, you wanted your Daddy, you didnât want to be the one pushing toward an orgasmic explosion of relief. You wanted it done to you, wanted to be their pretty little toy that they used however they pleased, and yet they werenât giving you that satisfaction. âYou need help, is that what this is about? Mommyâs little baby canât do it on her own?âÂ
You peeked out from Natashaâs shoulder, beautiful eyes that stole breath from healthy lungs glazed over so heavily that the gleam of moonlight slipping in through the curtains framing the window reflected off of them dazzlingly. You wanted your Mommy, and she had so cruelly refused to help you. A guttural sob slipped off your tongue, and defenselessly you surrendered to Natashaâs persistent touches, your hips twitching of their own volition when she pressed harshly against the base of the plug nestled deep within your puckered hole with addictive strawberry flavored lube. The tank top that clung to your torso was damp with sweat and tears, giving easy sight to your pebbled nipples that rubbed and brushed against Natashaâs chest teasingly. Youâd been successfully undone, not a single coherent thought in your head, and yet it wasnât enough for them, it would never be enough for them.Â
âCome here, my darling girl. Let Mommy take a look at whatâs bothering you.â Your cheeks, already so tenderly flush that they felt hot to the touch, became alight with nervous energy as you wiggled out of Natashaâs grip and reached out firmly for Wanda, not willing to take her rejection again. It never came, thankfully, and within seconds you were nestled against your Mommyâs chest, breathing in the comforting scent of her perfume and acrylic paints. She preferred oil, but sheâd been working on one last canvas that had only felt right to be constructed with vibrant purples and oranges from her acrylic collection. It didnât matter much to you. Wanda smelt like coming home after a strenuous day, and so intimately you snuggled closer, still sniffling and writhing for pleasure to consume you.Â
Her footsteps were soft, practically inaudible as she padded across the wooden floorboards and brought you to the bedroom that hadnât been seen since youâd come to find Natasha when sunlight was still painting the endless sky a hue of admirable baby blue. Your back met the soft bed sheets when Wanda threw you down, her touch lost for merely a few seconds before thumbs, stained from spilled paint, pried your thighs open, leaving your sodden panties on full display for her to enjoy. A shy whine rippled through your chest as you attempted to close your legs, but all that came of your weak protests was a curt tutt and a firmer hold.Â
âMy my, sweetheart. Your panties are awfully wet. Mommy can see your little clit just begging for attention right through them. I bet that feels so icky, huh?â She cooed tauntingly, her unmanicured finger falling between your open legs, her paint stained nail tracing the softest line across the expanse of your clothed pussy, merely smearing arousal across the already sodden fabric. A strangled whine caught in your dry throat, your desperate gleam not nearly enough to convince her to relieve you so early on. âLet me have a taste, hm? Let Mommy see what all the fuss is about.âÂ
Her words alone hadnât been enough to prepare you for the sensation of a warm tongue flicking curiously against your hardened bud, a mixture of saliva and arousal further dampening your panties as Wanda leaned down to firmly taste your glistening core, her strangled moans of enjoyment sparking sensations deep in your belly that had your eyes fluttered closed and your hips grinding up to find more; more pressure, more stimulation, just more. It was over as soon as it had begun, and a whimpered protest fell into the air as you blindly reached down to grab fistfuls of neatly tamed waves, trying desperately to pull her face back down to where you needed her most. She was unrelenting, smiling down at you so sickeningly sweetly that you yearned to kick her away and roll over in a huff of frustration, but temptation got the better of you, and desperately you rolled your hips against thin air, hoping to seduce her into giving into your desires.Â
âM-Mommy! Itâs achey!â You babbled desperately, wiggling pathetically against the bedsheets that had seen many strenuous endeavors over the last few months. Just the thought of how many times youâd come apart beneath them on these beige gingham sheets left you desperate, and the thought of adding another orgasm to the collection of passed ones had you panting.Â
âOh, Iâm sure it is achey, sweetheart. Your little pussyâs so needy, Mommy might just have to lock her up, huh? She gets you in so much trouble, always crying for attention, always desperate to be full. I think itâs time we teach her how to act, hm?â Wanda continued to coo, all while her fingers rub soft patterns and shapes into the soaked fabric of your pastel pink panties, though the damp patch had turned them a hue so vibrant thereâs not a single paint in Wandaâs collection that could match it accurately. You shook your head adamantly at the idea, a sob clawing up your throat at her proposed suggestion, and she laughed. âItâs not up to you what Mommy does, little girl. Youâll just take it like a good girl, wonât you? Youâll let Mommy do whatever she wants to you?âÂ
You couldnât help but nod, blubbering into your hands that had come to hide your face at some point between her lips on your clothed core and her fingers tracing minuscule details. You whined when she spread your legs further, painfully aware of how your clit throbbed and pulsated against the fabric of your panties, enough for her to take notice and flick her fingers against your sensitive bud in tune with its rhythmic beating. A open palm slap was the sensation that startled you, and a pathetic whimper filled the room as your eyes shot open and you witnessed Natasha standing beside Wanda, her eyes trained on your core, her palm glistening despite the barrier between your core and her hand.Â
âHow many can this slutty puppy take before she comes from a spanking alone?â Her words are directed at Wanda, her attention split between your dazzling girlfriend and your glimmering core. Not an ounce of attention falls on you, from either her nor the artist also filling the space between your open legs. Itâs humiliating, entirely dehumanizing, but it fuels your arousal further, and pathetically you grind upwards, hoping to come in contact with her palm once more, even if the touch is harsh and unforgiving. âLooks like the dumb pet wants to find out.âÂ
The first spank is heavenly, a harsh blow aimed directly at your quivering opening thatâs been void of stimulation all day, but the second is cruel, aimed straight at your unsuspecting clit that throbs and pulses in the aftermath of the blow and has you writhing from that intense mix of pain and pleasure. A strangled sob rips your throat apart, your eyes wide and pleading for relief do nothing to soften Natashaâs reserve, and again she strikes you between your legs, and again your core reacts before your brain can catch up to whatâs happening. Itâs by the sixth that you can feel it happening. Your legs are shaking, trembling, fighting to close but Wanda holds them open and leaves you vulnerable to the assault. Your chest is rising and falling so fast that your breath comes out in strained pants. Your eyes are shut, fingers holding fistfuls of bed sheets that do nothing to ease your panic. Youâre close, so close, one last hit and youâre falling over the edge into bliss thatâs been sought after for days. It doesnât come. Thatâs exactly what youâd been dreading, the edging. The signs had been painted across Natashaâs face since she pulled you up into her lap and had reaffirmed that you werenât allowed to cum, but now itâs fallen over top of you like a bucket of ice water and itâs too much. Itâs too much and itâs not enough and you canât control yourself when you sob and kick at them, wriggling around like bed like the plush sheets beneath your hands will be any comfort.Â
âPlease please please please! No Daddy! No! No no no! Please! Please! P-Please! Been good! I-Iâve been good! Been a good girl! Pl-Please!â Your words are a barely coherent jumble of sobs, and youâre faintly aware of Wanda attempting to coax you back into place, but all that dwells on you is the constant denial of relief, of attention, of affection. Itâs too much, and youâre so desperate, and youâve been so good, and you know that youâve been good. Why isnât that enough? Why canât it be enough? âWanna cum! Please! Please Mommy! Please! Please I was good! I sat with Daddy and-and I kept the plug in and I-I was good! Mommy I was good! Please! No more teasing! No more! Please! I canât! I canât-â
Youâre faintly aware of the bed dipping beneath the presence of another body, but only when Natashaâs firm hands cup your cheeks do you realize that sheâs cuddled up beside you and her hands are tenderly brushing away rivulets of perspiration and tears from your face. She kisses you sweetly, slowly, savoring the sight of you so undone from their simple touches, but thereâs an etch of concern entangled with her captivating features, enough to tell you that itâs ending, itâs finally ending.Â
âDo you need to safeword?â She asks tenderly, brushing strands of unruly hair away from your damp face. Thereâs no sight of disappointment, of underlying anger, just genuine care and concern, which has been all you wanted for hours.Â
You shake your frantically, soft cries slipping into the silence once again. The thought of losing them after enduring so much just to get that blissful reward of an orgasm has you scrambling to make sense of your feelings, but theyâve jumbled your brain, fried your independence. Youâre at their mercy until you regain their bearings, all you can manage is a soft, frantically whispered. âJ-Just want you. P-Please! Iâve been good!âÂ
âYouâve been so good, malyshka. So so good. My best girl. Let Mommy help you now, hm? Let her make all the aches go away.â Natasha speaks to you tenderly, resigning from her role as cruel daddy for the night, content to simply lay by your side, a reassuring presence as you prepare to submit to your Mommy.Â
Wanda works your panties off softly, caressing your thighs as she brushes against them, taking in the sight of your cunt, bare of coarse hair and blemishes, looking absolutely delectable as it glimmers beneath soft ambient lighting and undiluted moonlight. Nobody had thought to turn the lights on when they entered, but the soft night light in the corner of the room provided more than necessary as she lowered her lips to your clit and didnât hold back.Â
The first suckle at your overstimulated bud was euphoric, and your back arched high off the mattress as you scrambled to twist your fingers into her hair, desperate to keep her close to your core though she wouldnât have pulled away regardless of your persistence. She laps at you with intensity, using her paint stained fingers to hold your lower lips apart and dig right into her meal without care for how harsh or animalistic she appears, her nose bumps your clit as her lips moved south, her tongue poking into your weeping entrance and attempting to drink the arousal that had pooled there after hours of being trapped beneath thin panties. When her fingers slip into you, two to be exact, you canât control your whines and moans, and so profusely you beg for permission to fall off the edge of the cliff and drown yourself in orgasmic bliss that rivals the chill of ocean waves in summertime.Â
âGo ahead. Let go, baby girl. Make a mess on Mommyâs fingers. You can cum, itâs okay. You can let go now. You did such a good job, such a good job, my angel.â Natasha whispers into the darkness of the bedroom, her lips flush against your temple as she works you up more, her fingers pulling and twisting at your nipples still hidden beneath a sweat drenched tank-top. You feel disgusting, sticky and slick with sweat and tears, but itâs not enough to pull you away from this moment, and when her hand, the one that hadnât been permanently glued to your breasts, found your throat, nor squeezing but applying just enough pressure that it reaffirmed her gentle dominance over you, you gave into the orgasm that had been begging to be unleashed.Â
You didnât have time to come down from that first high before Wanda was doubling her efforts between your legs, her fingers jackhammering into your entrance as her tongue traced circles and flicked at your once deprived bud of nerves. You shrieked, whining so petulantly that Natasha cooed sweetly against your temple and continued her gentle movements against your tits, pulling your tank top up just enough to reveal them to the cool breeze that swept through the room, accompanied by the low thrum of the air conditioner.Â
âNo more! N-no more!â You attempted to squirm away from the undeniable pleasure Wanda was provoking, but to no avail did you succeed, weakened from hours of crying and arousal. Natasha remained by your side as Wanda scratched at your thigh and hips with the fingers that werenât knuckles deep inside of your cunt, leaving faint pink marks in the wake of her grip and touch.Â
âYou wanted to cum, puppy. You wanted Mommy to make you cum, so now youâre going to take it, okay? Can you do that?â Natasha hummed softly, kissing you again, an easy method of distracting you though you didnât protest, eagerly reciprocating the kiss and assuring that her own world was painted in vibrant colors for the few seconds that she allowed your tongue to tangle with hers. âGood girl. My good girl. Youâre doing so well. So well for Mommy.â She coaxed you through the second orgasm that tore through your belly at an accelerated pace, just barely able to contain her surprise as your core released an onslaught of juices aimed straight at Wandaâs face. A cry of humiliation left you, but it was soothed quickly by the woman between your legs, her tongue soothing the ache in your clit before it was gone entirely.Â
âShh, weâre all done. All done.â Wandaâs mouth shone brightly beneath the moonlight with your arousal, her chin dripping as she leaned above you, offering her fingers which you eagerly took into her mouth. The taste of your core was prominent, familiar as youâd been in this position a few hundred times over, but it brought peace to your hazy mind and you melted firmly into Natasha now. âYou did so good for me, my little princess. So so good. Mommyâs so proud of you.â She kissed you softly, replacing her fingers with her tongue that tasted so prominently of your orgasm and arousal that you couldnât help the whine of submission that filled the air.Â
âWhat can I get you, princess? How about some goldfish because Iâm sure Natasha didnât take a break for lunch like I told her to.â Wanda sent a pointed glare at Natasha, who bashfully shrunk into herself and shrugged half-heartedly. Lunch had most definitely slipped her mind, and she cursed beneath her breath when she realized youâd put up a fit if she tried to drag you downstairs for dinner.Â
âMommy stay.â You whined, attempting to reach out and pull Wanda down onto your body, but Natasha had already seen that coming, and had tangled her fingers with yours.Â
âMommy will be back so soon, pretty baby. Sheâs going to get you some fishies and a water, and sheâs going to grab your favorite blanket from downstairs, and Daddyâs gonna wipe you down and get you dressed in some comfy pajamas. How does that sound?â Natasha easily directed Wanda to gather all of the things youâd undoubtably ask for in a few minutes when the haze of your submission lessened and your tired muscles became apparent. The Sokovian didnât linger, instead she jumped straight into action, leaving one last kiss against your lips before she disappeared downstairs, hoping you had enough energy to get at least a couple of crackers into your body before you fell asleep.Â
You only agreed because you hadnât really had a choice to begin with, but still Natasha worked with your fussy attitude and got you wiped down with a damp washcloth and redressed in pajamas that were really just stolen pieces of her and Wandaâs casual attire. When the Sokovian returned, your favorite cup in her hands filled to the brim with room temperature water, you were cuddled into Natashaâs chest, biting softly at her fingertips as she attempted to keep you awake, some animated movie playing on the tv screen above the dresser on the wall opposite the large bed you occupied. She smiled softly, throwing a protein bar at Natashaâs head, before she took you into her arms, cuddling you into her chest, wrapping you tightly in your favorite throw blanket.Â
You nuzzled into her chest, begrudgingly taking a sip of water when she held the straw up to your lips persistently. It soothed your scratchy throat instantaneously, subsequently allowing your previous hours of screaming and moaning to become a distant memory until tomorrow morning when you woke without a voice. The goldfish she did not get so lucky with, offering a small handful to you as you zoned into the sound of her heath beating rhythmically beneath your ear and focused on the kaleidoscope of colors morphing across the tv screen. You whined, wiggling away from her hand rather fussily, and she knew better than to agitate you farther, so rather than keep persisting, she ate them herself and pulled you in closer, her heart and soft whispering to Natasha lulling you to sleep in minutes.Â
âYou really have to stop forgetting to eat lunch.â Wanda sighed amusedly, bringing up the age-old concern that had a near prominent spot in their conversation log. Natasa laughed sheepishly, one hand falling onto the small of your back as you turned further into Wandaâs chest, while the other reached to turn off the obnoxious film you strangely adored.Â
âItâs not my fault when this one decides to camp out beneath my desk.â She weakly defended, laying a tender kiss to the back of your head, your hair smelling faintly of the shampoo she kept in the upstairs shower.Â
âOh sure, blame her because sheâs not awake to defend herself.â Wanda retorted, rolling her eyes in exasperated fondness as she tangled her fingers into your still disheveled hair, hoping that when morning rolled around, youâd still be soft enough to request that she did your hair before she left for the gallery.Â
Natasha paused, a wrinkle of affection twinging her expression before she leaned forward and embraced Wanda in a tender kiss above your head. âI love you.âÂ
âI love you.â Wanda hummed against her lips, letting her eyes flutter closed as she took in the simplicity of this moment with the both of you.
#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#mommy!wanda maximoff x reader#dom!wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff smut#wanda maximoff fluff#wanda maximoff fic#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#daddy!natasha romanoff x reader#dom!natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff fic#wandanat#wandanat x reader#dom!wandanat x reader#wandanat smut#wandanat fluff#wandanat fic#library đą
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someone to be thankful for
DBF! Joel Miller x Female Reader
summary: Itâs Thanksgivingâwhen dinner with your nightmare of a family goes south, you find comfort in the person you least expect it from: your fatherâs best friend, Joel Miller.
warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (AU, NO OUTBREAK) non canon, DBF! Joel, AGE GAP (reader is in her 20âs, i do not specify her age, but sheâs a recent college grad so do with that what you will, not everyone graduates at the same specific age ya know? Joel is in his mid-ish 50âs). Readerâs a teacher, she is visiting her suburban childhood home from a big city. Readerâs parents are religious and practice traditional-ish gender norms (i.e father is head of the household kinda thing) readerâs family celebrates Thanksgiving (sorry) several mentions of food and alcohol, readerâs parents suck, she has two brothers who come with names, a lot of her relatives come with names, watch out for Aunt Ines sheâs a bitch. (TW) body/weight shaming (twice) PLEASE BE MINDFUL if this could be triggering. mentions of and implications of childhood abuse (not graphic) readerâs dad gets in her face, implied infidelity (readerâs dad), implied toxic marriage (readerâs parents). soft, caring, protective Joel. Joelâs recently divorced, mention of Sarah, mentions of the ex-wife. SMUT. oral sex (female receiving) p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) reader states sheâs on baby blockers (birth control), creampie, DADDY KINK (bc reader clearly has a few daddy issues), LOTS of pet names (darlinâ, baby, pretty girl, sweetheart, honey), size kink (ish?), cockwarming. think i got it all?
PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. if this isnât your thing, that is fine but just keep on scrolling.
MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.
word count: 11.5k
a/n: yeahâŚidk. this was very delayed because it turned into a whole thing. if anyone actually reads all 11k of this, i will bake you muffins.
You take a deep breath and look in the mirror.
Skirt pressed, not a wrinkle in sight.
Hair brushed, not a single strand out of place.
Makeup done, not a blemish to be seen.
And somehow, someone will still find something.
Something to point out.
Something to comment on.
Something to criticize.
If not your appearance, itâll be something else.
Because someone always had something to say.
âShould you be eating all of that?â
âAnother year gone and still no boyfriend?â
âDonât you want to get married?â
âWhen I was in my twenties, I had two children.â
Boundaries didnât exist on Thanksgiving.
Actually, for your family, boundaries didnât exist at allâsomehow, they are still scratching their heads and wondering why youâd decided to up and leave the minute your high school principal handed over that diploma, your ticket to freedom.
âSweetie!â Your motherâs shrill voice calls from the kitchen downstairs. âI need a hand! Our guests are going to start arriving soon and there is still plenty left for us to do before they get here!â
You groan outwardly.
Thereâs still plenty left to do?
Howâs that even fucking possible?
Youâve been cooking and baking since sunrise.
âDonât you think itâs too early?â youâd grumbled at five oâ clock in the morning when your mother had pulled you out of bed, declaring it was time for the big dinner preparations to beginâeven though itâd be several hours before your family came over and gathered around the table to break bread. She had pulled the turkey out of the freezer a few days ago, a massive, thirty-pound whole bird that looked big enough to feed a small village. In addition, she had picked up a ham and a brisket. âMom, whyâs there so much food?â Rubbing the sleep from your eyes with the sleeve of your robe, youâd started making your way over to the Nespresso only to realize that the coffee machine was hidden behind paper bags full of groceries. âAre we cooking for all of Texas or something?â
âVery funny,â she had glared at you. âOf course we arenât.â She started unwrapping the turkey. âWeâre simply making sure we have enough food and that we have different options for everyone to enjoy, so knock it off with the wisecracks and get to peeling those carrots for me for the stuffing. There is not a single minute to waste today, you hear me, missy? Weâre hosting a dozen people, so everything must be absolutely perfect. I wonât accept anything less than perfection today, do you understand me?â
Thirteen hours later, sheâs still driving you insane.
Youâre only home visiting until the end of the week and then itâs back to the Midwest. You can survive her for three more days, right?
You hear her calling your name and exhale a small, frustrated sigh. âIâm coming, mom!â you call back. Itâs difficult to mask the annoyance in your tone of voice, but somehow you manage it. âOne minute!â
Smoothing down your pleated plaid skirt, you take one last look in the mirror to make sure everything is in orderâthere is a loose thread on the sleeve of your brown, knitted sweater and you carefully snip it off with a pair of scissors before sliding your feet into the comfiest pair of ankle boots youâd packed and head downstairs, nose leading the way as you follow the warm, delicious scent of the made from scratch biscuits and rolls baking in the oven.
You find your mother standing at the center island counter garnishing a charcuterie board with sweet gherkins and sprigs of fresh herbs. Sheâs donning a festive apron embroidered with fall leaves over her designer dress, and her hairâs still up in rollers. âFinally, there you are,â she huffs out loudly the second she hears you walk into the kitchen. Down the hallway, your father and two younger brothers are shouting at some football game on the flat screen television in the living roomâmen donât lift a single finger on this day, at least not in this household. âI need you to start setting the table for me. I have place cards in that bag over there. Make sure your dadâs at the head of the table. Oh and donât forget to bring out the childrenâs table for all your little cousinsââ She glances up, letting out a small gasp when she sees you. âWhat in the world are you wearing?â
Frowning, you look down at yourself. âClothes?â
Her ruby red lips purse together in a tight thin line.
âHoney, that skirt is too short. Itâs inappropriate.â
You resist the urge to roll your eyes at her. âItâs like an inch above the knee, how is that inappropriate? Itâs not like itâs a miniskirt, mom.â As she eyes your skirt with disapproval, you decide youâre not in the mood to argue and say, âOkay, fine. Iâll go upstairs and change into something else thenââ
âNo, no, forget it,â she shakes her head. âWe donât have the time for that.â Your mother whirls around, picking up the bag of place holdersâsheâd special ordered little turkeys carved out of wood. She also takes a marker and a notepad, shoving everything into your hands. âHere. I wrote down all the names of everyone whoâs coming for dinner. The children get place holders too but make sure the little ones are sitting beside someone older to help them. Oh! Did I already mention putting your dad at the head of theââ
Tuning her out, your eyes scan down the guest list and if thereâs one thing to be thankful for today itâs the fact that your motherâs given you the power to seat everybody wherever you want. Halfway down the list, you see the names of several relatives that you donât want anywhere near you at the table. An Aunt Miriam who smells like the inside of a casino; a cousin Jennifer who refuses to acknowledge her forty-eight month old is actually four years old; an uncle Richard who always has one too many beers and winds up spewing antigovernment conspiracy theories, ranting until heâs passed out somewhere, such as on the floor of the guest bathroom.
You get to the bottom of the list and canât help but raise an eyebrow in surprise. âJoel Miller?â
She nods, returning to her board.
âYou remember Mr. Miller, donât you, sweetie? He and your father went to college togetherâheâs one of his oldest and dearest friends. Donât tell me you forgot about him? Youâve met him plenty of tiââ
âYeah, I remember who Joel is, mom,â you mutter, cutting her off. âDidnât he and the family move out to Arizona like, four years ago? To Phoenix, right?â Youâd been away for college then. Taking a second glance at the list, you notice she had forgotten the names of Joelâs wife and daughter. Surely, itâd just been a mistake on her part, though. âI had no idea they were in town visiting. Dad didnât mention it to me at all.â
âTheyâre not.â She lowers her voice, as if someone else is standing in the room listening. âJoel moved back to Austin, heâs been back for a few days now. He and Connie, they umââ Pausing for a moment, she reaches up and clasps the cross hanging from her neck before whispering, âThey got divorced.â
Taken aback, your mouth parts slightly. âWhat?â
âI know. Joel and Connie were the last people that I ever thought would get divorced. Such a shame,â your mother remarks, shaking her head. âI ran into Mrs. Adler at the super market and she was telling me all about it. Thinks they could have saved their marriage if only those twoââ
âWould get right with Jesus,â you finish, biting the tiny smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. âShe says that about everything, mom.â
âWell, she isnât wrong! The sacrament of marriage is a lifelong bond that shouldnât be broken. Itâs not right.â Dropping her hand away from her necklace, she crosses her arms over chest. âAnyway, Connie stayed in Phoenix. Sarahâs spending Thanksgiving with her. Your father didnât want Joel spending the holiday alone and invited him over for dinner. That means I need you to be on your very best behavior tonight. I donât want you embarrassing your father in front of his closest friend. Is that understood?â
You canât help but scoff a little. âIâm not a child.â
She narrows her eyes at you and scoffs right back, planting her hands on her hips.
âNo, youâre a smart aleck. Need I remind you what happened last Thanksgiving with Aunt Ines?â
Of course she didnât have to remind you about last yearâs fiasco with her insufferable bitch of a sister.
âThatâs an awfully big piece of pumpkin pie,â sheâd remarked loudly, eliciting snickers from everybody sitting at the table. âDonât forget, dearâa moment on the lips, forever on the hips. And you have quite a few forevers on your hips already, darling.â
You had smiled sweetly at her, your fingers itching to fling your motherâs fine china at her. âI wouldnât really worry about my pie, Aunt Ines,â you had said as soon as you realized that nobody, not even your parents, would be coming to your defense. âMuch less when your husbandâs stepping out and eating someone elseâs pie when heâs away on all those so called business trips. Worry about that instead.â
That comment hadnât gone over all too well. Three months later, Aunt Ines and Uncle Louis started to see a marriage counselor. Whoops.
âWell?â
âShe deserved that,â you say, shrugging lightly.
âSheâs family.â
âSheâs a jerk.â
âYou crossed a line.â
âShe crossed it first.â
Before your mother can respond, the sound of the doorbell ringing echoes throughout the house.
âJesus, we donât have time for this!â Your motherâs eyes widen when she tries running a hand through her hair and realizes she still has her rollers in. âOh no, people are arriving and Iâm still not ready!â She makes a beeline for the hallway. âGet the door and greet our guests, Iâll be down in five minutes!â
She disappears upstairs into her bedroom and you hear the doorbell ring again. Your father shouts for someone to go answer it, someone other than him or your brothers because it is the end of the fourth quarter and they just canât possibly miss that.
You make your way through the foyer and open up the front door expecting it to be one of your family members, but itâs not.
Your throat instantly goes dry at the sight of him.
Heâs broader than you remeber, so much broader.
The fabric of his sage green dress shirt is nice and snug on his frameâstretched taut over the planes of his chest and his wide shoulders. Heâs holding a box of store bought something or other but youâre much too preoccupied with the way the sleeves of his shirt are hugging his biceps to notice what it is although you assume itâs some kind of dessert. He looks far more delicious than whatever sweet treat could be in that white box heâs got in his hands.
After a minute, you realize youâve been gawking at him and the heat rushes to your cheeks. âHello Mr. Miller,â you greet him politely. âItâs very nice to see you again. Please, come on in.â
He smiles, his brown eyes warm and sweet behind his square, black-rimmed glasses. âYou remember me,â he states and the syrupy richness of his voice sends a pleasant tingle up your spine. Stepping off to the side, you allow him insideâas he steps past you over the threshold, the tantalizing scent of his cologne almost brings you to your knees. Notes of a citrus accord like tart grapefruit, fresh bergamot mixed with the woodiness of vetiver and musk; itâs intoxicating, something you could easily get drunk off of if youâre not careful. âIâm surprised. Sâbeen a real long time since you last saw me.â
âIt hasnât been all that long,â you reply, closing the door behind you. You speak to him in the steadiest voice you can muster, with nonchalanceâas if you arenât one missed heartbeat away from feeling like a silly little schoolgirl with her first crush. âHas it?â
He thinks about it. ââBout four and a half years.â
âThatâs really not that long.â
âSânot,â Joel admits with a chuckle. âBut with how much Iâve aged in that short amount of time, I just wasnât sure if youâd recognize me, yâknow? I look a lot different than I used to.â He pauses and laughs, shaking his head. âI must look like an old geezer to you now, donât I?â
Grays lightly pepper his thick dark brown curls, his beard and his mustache. Heâs got crows feet when he smiles, he has worry lines and creases between his eyebrowsâhe does look a lot older, but heâs so goddamn handsome, wrinkles, fine lines, and all.
You toss him a playful eye roll, prompting a grin. âI donât think you look like an old geezer, Mr. Miller.â
âWell, youâre sure as hell makinâ me feel like an old geezer by callinâ me that, darlinâ girl.â He gives you a little wink and youâre not quite sure if itâs that, or if it was the way heâd used a pet name that knocks all the wind out of your lungs. âPlease, just call me Joel.â
You nod and shyly agree to it. âOkay, then. Joel.â
âSâmuch better.â His grin widens and a prominent, deep dimple appears on the left side of his cheek.
Thereâs a silence that follows, but itâs not awkward or weird. Itâs comfortableâbeing in his presence is comfortable. His sweet disposition makes you feel so calm, so at ease.
Joelâs always been a nice man of course, although your interactions with him had been limitedâkind, quick helloâs in passing on Sundays whenever heâd come over to watch football with your dad, maybe a polite how are you here and there if you bumped into him at gatherings like a backyard barbecue or birthday party. But youâre older now, no longer the child who greeted her fatherâs best friend because it was bad manners if she didnât. You donât want to throw him that kind, quick hello or that polite how are you and then scurry off the way you used to as a little kid. You actually want to talk to Joel Miller.
But you suddenly remember heâs not here for you.
Heâs here for your father.
Joel!â Your mother screeches, five-inch high heels clacking loudly as she descends the staircase. She had ditched the apron and hair rollersâand put on one too many layers of her heaviest perfume. With a delighted squeal, she rushes up to Joel and pulls him into a bone crushing hug, almost causing him to drop the box heâs still holding. âOh, it is so good to see you! Itâs been far too long!â
You force back a small, amused snort.
As if she hadnât been judging the man for a failed marriage just minutes ago in the kitchen.
Itâs performative, too over the top to be sincere.
âSâgood to see you too.â He steps back and laughs as he adjusts his glasses with one of his hands. He holds out the box to her with the other. âPicked up a pecan pie on the way over here. I wouldâa tried to make it myself, but the kitchenâs still all packed up in boxes.â He pauses, laughing again. âThen again, I ainât really much of a baker. Store bought was for the best I reckon,â he admits, sheepishly. When he shrugs his shoulders, his shirt strains a bit over his frame and even your mother canât help but stare a little.
Lightly clearing her throat, she takes the box from him and reminds him, âDidnât I tell you that all you had to bring tonight was a nice, healthy appetite?â
Joel lightly pats his stomach. âBrought that too. In fact, I didnât eat a thing all day long. Iâm absolutely starvinâ right now. Could eat a whole horse.â
âGood! Dinnerâs going to be served soon. Williamâs in the living room with the boys, watching football game after football game. Come with me, Iâm sure youâre eager to see him.â Your mother spins on her heel and hands you the dessert. âSweetie, will you be a gem and go put this in the kitchen for me?â It isnât a request, itâs an order masked as a requestâitâs the kindest sheâs been to you all day. She takes Joelâs arm and leads him down the hallway, calling out over her shoulder, âAnd please set the table!â
You do set the table, and when you do, you decide to sit yourself right next to Joel Miller.
Your mother lightly clinks her knife against the rim of her wine glass and clears her throat. âEveryone! Itâs time to join hands and say grace before we dig into our meal,â she announces, her voice breaking through the loud, buzzing chatter at the table. She waits until thereâs complete silence and then takes her seat, the chair adjacent to your fatherâs. Youâre on his opposite side and Joelâs right beside you. âI think you should do the honor, William. You are the man of the house, after all.â
Nodding, your father begins the prayer.
âHeavenly Father, bless this food we are aboutââ
Youâre not listening. Youâre distracted by the jolt of electricity that zips through your entire body when you put your hand in Joelâs. His hand dwarfs yours and itâs rough and calloused, but somehow itâs the most gentle, soothing touch. Heat prickles at your face and neck when you feel him sweep his thumb across the back of your handâyou open your eyes and glance over at him, wondering if that had just been an accident. Youâre convinced it was, until he does it again, running his finger over each knuckle one at a time. Slowly, like heâs savoring the touch.
Biting your lip, you give his hand a gentle squeeze.
His head is bowed and his eyes are still closed, but a faint smile tugs lightly at the corner of his mouth and he firmly squeezes your hand back. Thereâs an unmistakable desire thatâs already burning deep in your lower belly, a flame you canât extinguish even when the angel on your shoulder reminds you that not only is Joel Miller twice your fucking age, he is also your fatherâs best friend. His best friend.
ââŚthrough Christ our Lord. Amen.â
âAmen,â your relatives chime together in unison.
You force out the declaration. âAmen.â
âAmen,â Joel murmurs, opening his eyes. He turns to you and his gaze flits to your hand in his and for a moment, it almost seems like he doesnât want to let it go. It feels like Joel doesnât want to let it goâand he doesnât. He doesnât let it go until the sound of your fatherâs loud, booming voice announcing it is time for him to carve the bird startles the two of you apart. Clearing his throat lightly, Joel turns his attention forward and reaches for his cabernet. He gulps down half his glass in one easy swallow.
Dinnerâs fairly uneventful.
You eat in complete silence, as does Joel.
Part of you wonders if itâs because youâre sitting in between him and your father, the only person that heâs most comfortable conversing with. Assuming this is the case, youâre just about to ask him if heâd like to trade places when he turns to you and says, âYour dad told me you went to school in Chicago.â
Heâs just being friendly, you remind yourself when your heart starts to flutter wildly at the notion that he wants to talk to you. Heâs friendly. Thatâs all. It doesnât mean anything.
âYeah. I did.â You pick up your glass of wine, taking a sip hoping itâll ease the nerves. âI graduated over the summer and took a teaching job out there.â
âYou became a teacher?â
âYeah. I teach kindergarten.â You smile proudly.
âCan you believe that, Joel?â Your father lets out a scoff and shakes his head. âI spent thousands and thousands of dollars to send her to school. All that money and for what? For her to learn how to teach little ankle biters how to color inside the lines?â He rolls his eyes and gestures to your two brothers on the opposite side of the table. âNow my boys, they are smart. Chose good careers to pursue. Brandon starts applying to medical school in the spring. Oh and Matthew? He got early acceptance to Yale. He plans on studying law.â He shifts his attention over to you once more and shrugs. âNot too sure where I went wrong with this one.â
You stare at him in complete and utter disbelief.
âDad.â
Chortling, he waves a dismissive hand. âOh, come on, honey. Iâm just kidding around. You know that I donât mean it.â He then reaches out, pinching your cheek roughly. âDonât be so sensitive,â he tells you before turning his attention back to his plate.
But he does mean it.
His comments hurt, and you hate that they hurt.
Joel nudges your arm with his. âYâknow somethinâ, it takes someone real special to become a teacher, âspecially to kids that age,â he states in a matter of fact tone. âSomeone whoâs real sweet and patient, someone real smart too. Someone just like you.â
Warmth radiates through your entire body. Itâs not just his words, but itâs the sincerity behind them.
You shoot him a small, grateful smile.
The two of you wind up talking to one another.
Joelâs moving his contracting business, bringing it back to Austin from Phoenix to run it with Tommy, his younger brother who you vaguely remembered meeting a time or two in the past. He mentions his daughter here and there, but doesnât bring Connie up onceâperhaps itâs too painful for him? Itâs hard to tell. He seems to be in good spirits and truth be told, it doesnât appear heâs mourning his marriage; but itâs difficult to believe heâs not missing her, the woman heâd spent three decades of his life with. It shouldnât even matter to you whether heâs missing his ex-wife or not, if there are residual feelings still lingering around. But it does matter and you donât know why. Or maybe you do know why, but youâre too ashamed to admit it.
âDo you like Chicago?â Joel questions, curiously.
Shrugging, you respond, âYeah. Itâs a cool city.â
âYou plan on stayinâ out there permanently?â
âIâm not too sure,â you admit. âItâs too expensive. I donât want to live with a roommate forever. Unless teachers start getting paid more, I donât think that Iâll ever be able to afford to live alone in Chicago.â
Joel seems hesitant about his next query. âDo you ever think âbout cominâ back to Austin at all?â
Suddenly, youâre not too sure about that either.
Youâve been itching to go back and get as far from Austin, Texas as possible, but now, it means being far from Joel Miller. Thereâs a deep, sinking feeling inside of your chest at the thought.
Realizing heâs still waiting for a response, you have no choice but to tell him the truth. âI donât think Iâll ever come back here, to be honest. Not to stay.â
âOh. I see.â He sounds disappointed. âAre youâdo you plan on visitinâ home again for Christmas?â
âI do. Iâll be here for Christmas and New Yearâs.â
Heâs being friendly. Heâs being friendly. Heâsâ
âItâd be real nice to see you again then.â Flushing a deep shade of red, subtle regret flashes across his features, as if heâd said it without thinking. Picking up his glass, he drains the rest of his wine and you can swear heâs nervous. About what heâd just said, and about whether or not your parents, who are in such close proximity, had overheard him. Because what business did he have in telling their daughter it would be nice to see her again?
Theyâre both much too preoccupied. Your father is attempting to be slick checking his text messages underneath the table and you can tell by the smirk on his face that itâs one of his secretaries. Heâs got a penchant for perky blondes in tight pencil skirts. Your mother is well aware of this. She is also aware heâs on his phone, but she turns a blind eye just as she always does and distracts herself by being the perfect hostess.
Feeling foolishly courageous, you turn back to him and nod, heart pounding against your sternum. âIt would. Itâd be very nice, actually.â
Relieved, he nods and murmurs quietly, âWeâll talk âbout it later, then. That okay, darlinâ?â
Not wanting to seem too eager, you nod again and turn away from him, teeth sinking into your lip in a futile attempt to hide the giddiness in your smileâbut the soft chuckle Joel elicits under his breath is a clear indication that itâs useless.
He knows how heâs making you feel. He likes it.
Your mother returns from the kitchen carrying two baskets of fresh crescent rolls, one for each end of the table. She sets one of them down right in front of you and you reach out to take one when a voice, one that sounds as awful as nails scraping down a chalkboard, remarks loudly, âShould you be eating so much bread, dear?â Ines, whoâs sitting a couple chairs down, next to your grandmother, looks over at you and raises an eyebrow. Thereâs a smug little smile on her face, almost as if she were daring you to run your mouth like youâd done last year.
For as much as it pains you, you make your choice and decide not to take the bait. You pull your hand out of the basket of rolls and pick up your glass of wine instead, chugging it down like itâs water.
Frowning, Joel picks up the basket and takes a roll that you assume is for himself, but itâs not. Putting it on your plate, he shoots her a frigid glare. âDonât you listen to her.â He says it loud enough for her to hear him. âYou just enjoy yourself, alright?â
Your aunt bats her eyes, innocently. âWell, Iâm just saying. If my skirt was that tight on me, I would be thinking twice about what goes into my mouth.â
Hushed laughter sweeps across the entire table.
âAre you fucking kidding me right now?â You slam your empty glass down so hard onto the table that the entire dining room goes completely silent. The little ones at the childrenâs table stare with big and wide eyes, mouths full of food hung open because a grown up had just used a naughty word.
Your mother says your name warningly. âDonât you start,â she hisses, shaking her head. âBe quiet.â
Angrily, you round on her. âSeriously? Youâre going to let her say that to me? You donât care that sheâs making comments about my weight?â You almost laugh. Of course doesnât care, she has never cared and she never will. âIâm your daughter! Would it kill you to defend me for once in your fucking life?â
âShut your mouth!â Your father stands up, shoving a threatening finger into your face, so close the tip of it almost touches the tip of your nose. He hasnât put his hands on you since you were nine, but heâs as drunk as he is angry, and you find yourself back in the shoes of the little girl who would curl up into a ball in the corner of her room as she begged and pleaded for him not to hurt her. âYou hear me?â
Joel stands and walks around your chair. Placing a hand on your fatherâs chest, he mutters, âHey now letâs take a step back from her, alright?â He guides him back down into his chair. âAinât gotta be in her face like that, Will.â
âIâm sick and tired of her ruining everythingâcanât get through one dinner without her screwing it up! Always has to run that fucking mouth of hers! She still acts like a goddamn fucking childââ
You canât bear to sit there and hear another insult.
Fighting back the hot tears that are threatening to spill over, you quickly stand up and rush out of the dining room. You make a beeline for the front door and step outside onto the porch. Itâs about sixty or so degrees in Austin and the cold nips at your bare legs, but thatâs the least of your worries. Without a place to go, you descend the porch steps and find yourself walking towards the swing thatâs hanging from the old bur oak tree in the front yard. You had asked your father for a swing when you were three years oldâit wasnât until your brothers asked for a swing a couple years later that heâd hung one up.
You sit down, hands curling around the rope thatâs so old and weathered itâs beginning to fray slightly but not so much so that youâre concerned about it snapping. Youâre so busy trying to keep it together that you donât notice the sound of crisp, autumnal leaves crunching under a pair of boots behind you. A hand gingerly touches your shoulder. You let out a startled gasp and glance over to see itâs Joel.
âHey there, darlinâ,â he says, gently.
You stare at him in surprise.
âWhat are you doing out here?â
âNeeded to make sure youâre okay.â
âIâm fine,â you grit the lie through your teeth.
Joelâs expression softens. âYou ainât gotta pretend with me, sweetheart.â
His concern is genuine. Itâs real.
You donât quite know how to handle it. Accept it.
âIt got real ugly in there, âspecially with your dad.â
Tears prickle at your eyes all over again. âFuck, Iâm sorry, Joel. Iâm so sorry.â
âSorry?â Baffled, Joel walks around the swing and a minor labored grunt escapes him as he squats in front of you. âThereâs a few people who need to be apologizinâ for what happened, but darlinâ you sure as fuckinâ hell ainât one of them.â
Itâs odd. Feels foreign, even.
Youâre not used to someone being on your sideâit prompts more tears to spring forward and despite your best efforts to fight them off, itâs useless. You manage to whisper his name. Itâs a feeble warning, one thatâs telling him to go back inside before heâs caught in the torrential downpour of emotions you are mere seconds away from unleashing on him.
But he doesnât budge. He waits. Joel knows youâre about to break and heâs ready to catch the pieces.
Finally, a tear slips and rolls down your cheek, only to be followed by another and then another. Youâre holding onto the swing for dear life now, emotions that youâve been holding in for your whole life now coming to the surface. The rope digs painfully into the palms of your hands. He reaches out and curls his fingers lightly around your wrists.
âSâokay to let go,â Joel encourages you and youâre certain heâs not just referring to the swing. âListen to me, darlinâ girl. I ainât gonna let you fall, alright? Iâm right here to catch you. You can let go. Iâve got you, okay?â
You allow Joel to take your hands off the rope and he guides them around his shoulders as you begin to crumble. Leaning forward slightly off the swing, you wrap you arms around him and bury your face into his neck. âJoel,â you choke out his name as he wraps his own arms around your waist, pulling you closer into him.
He feels like stability.
He feels like security.
He feels like safety.
Your entire body shudders as you cry, cry, cry.
âSâalright, sweet girl. Iâve got you. Iâve got you.â
He repeats his reassurance over and over again.
He wants you to believe it.
And you do believe it.
Joelâs as patient as can be. Itâs growing colder and his knees are begging for a change of positon, but couldnât care less about the discomfort. He rubs a soothing circle into your back and waits until there is nothing left except little hiccups and sniffles.
âShit,â you mumble when you pull back and notice youâd left behind a wet spot on his shirt along with light traces of mascara. You wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater. âI ruined your shirt.â
âSâokay. Nothinâ the dry cleaners canât take care of for me.â Joel chuckles and lets go of you. âYou feel a little better now, darlinâ?â
âI do.â You glance over your shoulder at the house, then exhale a sigh and turn back to him, admitting quietly, âI donât want to go back in there, though.â
He rises to his feet and pulls out a set of keys from the pocket of his black jeans. âWell, yâdont have to go back in there,â he states. âIs there somewhere I can take you? Friendâs house, maybe?â
âMy best friend Megan went to Puerto Vallarta for Thanksgiving. Most of my other friends left Austin like I did,â you explain, sighing again. âAnyone who didnât leave is spending their time with their family tonight and I donât want to bother them.â
Joel hums, mulling it over in his mind. âWell, donât know how comfortable youâll be with the idea, but my place ainât all too far from here. Ten minutes or so. Less if thereâs no one out on the roads.â
âJoel, thatâs so nice of you to offer, but Iâve already ruined your dinner tonight. The last thing I want to do is put you out even more,â you say, sheepishly.
âSweetheart, you didnât ruin a fuckinâ thing for me tonight. And you wouldnât be puttinâ me out at all,â he promises. âSâgettinâ late and truth be told, I just wanna get you somewhere warm.â Holding out his free hand, he adds, âAnd comfortable.â
âBut Joelââ
âI can be real stubborn too, yâknow,â he teases you with a playful grin. âWeâll be out here all night long freezinâ our fuckinâ asses off.â
He isnât going to take no for an answer.
âOkay,â you relent, accepting the offer.
You place your hand in his and he helps you off the swing. He doesnât let it go as he leads the way to a sleek, black Dodge Ram thatâs parked behind your grandfatherâs silver Mercedes. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze before dropping it. âSorry, sweet girl. Itâs a bit of a trip up into the seat,â he remarks, chuckling as he opens the passenger side door for you. He gives you a boost into the truck; the scent of new leather is mixed with that of his cologne. It is all man and couldnât be sexier. âGood up there?â
âYeah, Iâm good.â
Joel closes the door and hurriedly walks around to the driverâs side of the pickup, climbing up into his seat with ease. âSeatbelt,â he tells you as he sticks the key into the ignition. The first thing he does as soon as the engine roars to life is turn on your seat warmer. He switches on the heater as well, waiting a minute before asking, âYou warm enough?â
âI am. Thank you, Joel.â
ââCourse.â He nods and pulls away from the curb.
As Joelâs driving you further and further from your parentsâ house, all you feel is sweet relief.
âMâsorry the place is such a mess.â
Joel leads you into his living room and touches his hand to the back of his neck, embarrassed.
Amused, you raise an eyebrow at him and say, âIâd hardly call cardboard boxes stacked neatly over on one side of the room a mess, Joel.â You take a look around his townhouseâmost of his furnitureâs still wrapped up in plastic, except for the black leather couch and the rustic, acacia wood coffee table. He has a flat screen mounted over the brick fireplace; heâs been sleeping on the couch, or at least, thatâs what the pillow and Texas Longhorns fleece throw tells you. You turn to him. âIf you want to see a real mess, you should see my apartment in Chicago.â
You watch him as he takes off his glasses and puts them down on the coffee table.
âSâit pretty bad?â
âMy roommateâs a kindergarten teacher too. Youâd be surprised at how many popsicle sticks two girls in their twenties can end up bringing home. Not to mention all the glitter.â
âIf youâre tryinâ to make me feel better, itâs workinâ like a charm.â Joel picks up his blanket and drapes it over the armchair adjacent to the couch. âGo on and make yourself comfortable, darlinâ. You thirsty at all? Iâve got water or I can make coffee. Also got a pack of beer in the fridge,â he adds, jokingly.
âWhat kind of beer?â you ask curiously as you sink down onto the couch.
He seems pleasantly surprised by your interest.
âLone Star.â
âIâll have one. If itâs not too much trouble.â
ââCourse itâs not too much trouble. Not at all.â
Itâs hard not to stare as he walks away towards the kitchen. Your thighs clench togetherâhis back, his shoulders, those unkempt salt and pepper curls of his that tuft at the nape of his neck right above his collarâthis man is the epitome of utter perfection. Your mind wanders and you canât help imagine the way your legs would look thrown over those broad shoulders. How his large hands would feel on your plush skin as they wrap around your thighs to hold them in place against his chest while he fucks yâ
âHere you go, darlinâ.â
Joelâs deep voice shatters your train of thought.
Heâs standing beside you, holding out the bottle of beer, which heâd uncapped along with his own.
Blood rushes to your cheeks. âThank you,â you say as you accept the beer from him, trying not to lose the sliver of composure that youâre holding ontoâit wavers when your fingers accidentally brush his.
âSâit too cold in here for you?â he asks. âI normally keep the thermostat pretty low.â
âItâs a little cold,â you admit. âBut itâs not a probââ
Itâs too late. Joel walks over to the fireplace and he manages to strike a match and light it with just his free hand. After tossing in a couple logs, he makes his way back over to the couch and he takes a seat beside you. âThat a bit better, sweetheart?â
âYou didnât have to do that.â
He shrugs. âYou said it was cold.â
He takes a long, generous swig of the golden lager before setting the bottle down on one of the green ceramic coasters on the coffee table. He sits back; an arm stretches out over the back of the couch in a casual manner and his legs spread open causing your thighs to clench together once more.
âYou feelinâ alright?â
âHuh?â You then realize he is referring to what had happened at dinner. âOh. Um. Yeah, Iâm alright.â
Joel peers at you, his concern evident, clear in the depths of his dark brown eyes. âYou sure?â
âNo. Not really,â you confess, tracing the mouth of your bottle with your index finger. âBut Iâll get over it. I donât have a choice but to get over it.â Another lump starts forming in the back of your throat and you swallow it, quickly chasing it down with a gulp of beer.
âMâguessinâ your familyâs got somethinâ to do with why you decided to leave Austin?â
âBingo,â you deadpan. âI was so sick and tired of it all. How I was talked to, how I was treated. Like Iâm such a fucking disappointment.â
He frowns. âYouâre not a disappointment, though.â
âMy parents think Iâm a disappointment. My dadâs never told me heâs proud of me, Joel. Nothing I do, nothing I have ever done is good enough for either of them, but especially not for him.â There is a dull ache that settles in your heart and all you can do is silently will yourself not to breakdown again, not in front of him, at least. You sigh. âDo you know what itâs like, not feeling good enough for someone that is supposed to love you no matter what? Someone whoâs supposed to love you unconditionally?â
Joel knows itâs a rhetorical question, he knows itâs not something youâre expecting him to answer.
But he does answer, because he does know.
âI do, actually. I know all too well what it feels like.â
He looks down at his left hand, which is resting on his thigh and you do too. Your eyes flicker over the fading tanline on his fingerâwhere he once wore a wedding band. You donât even think twice about it and reach over, sweeping your own finger over the patch of pale skin. Without missing a beat, you tell him, âYouâre good enough, Joel.â
He canât help but laugh a little. âSheâd disagree.â
âSheâs wrong.â
âYou donât know what happened.â
âI donât have to know what happened.â
âThat ainât how it works, sweetheart.â
Stubbornly, you lift your chin. âI donât care.â
Joel laughs. âYâthink you know me, darlinâ? Yâthink you know what kinda man I am? Hm?â
âI do know.â You place your hand on top of his and his jaw clenches. âYouâre a good man, Joel Miller. I know that youâre a good man.â
âYou couldnât be more wrong âbout that.â Thereâs a brief pause and he hesitates before confessing, âA good man wouldnât be sittinâ here just fuckinâ dyinâ to kiss his best friendâs daughter.â
You freeze and grip your bottle so tight, you would not be the slightest bit surprised if it shatters right in your hand. âYouâyou want to kiss me?â
âSince the moment you opened up that front door and said hello to me.â Joel shakes his head. âSânot right.â Heâs riddled with guilt, with shame. He pulls his hand out from under yours. âI ainât a good man at all. Youâre half my fuckinâ age and I shouldnâtââ
You cut him off, softly uttering his name. âJoel?â
âYeah?â His voice sounds hoarse. Strained.
âCan youâwill you kiss me? Please?â
You need more than just his kiss, so much more.
You need him to unravel you in every way possible, but beggars canât be choosers and if one kiss was all youâll get tonight, then youâll fucking take it.
Joel swallows dryly. âThat really what you want?â
His eyes flicker down to your lips and then back to meet your sweet, innocent gaze.
âYes,â you breathe in reply. âPlease. Kiss me.â
He leans in, and thereâs brief hesitation on his part and he stops mere centimeters from your face, his nose lightly brushing against yours. âWe shouldnât be doinâ this.â His warm breath fans over your lips; theyâre parted, eager to meet his own. âI shouldnât let this happen. IâI should take you back home to your family before I do somethinâ real stupid.â
Your heart sinks. âThat really what you want?â you parrot his own question back to him and hold your breath, knowing thereâs a chance his answer could be the answer that you donât want to hear, the one that could end up crushing you.
Joel lifts his hand, cupping the side of your face in his palm. ââCourse itâs not what I want.â His thumb strokes your cheek, his dark eyes taking in each of your features. Heâs studying, memorizing them, as if heâll never get another chance to be this close to you again. With the line heâs about to cross, youâre both about to cross, that just might be the case.
The tension seeps through your skin and into your bones.
You exhale shakily. âThen just kiss me already.â
He moves his hand and gently curls it around your chin, holding you steady as he leans further in and closes the gap of space in between you. He moves slowly and heâs gentleâtoo gentle. You want to tell him youâre not made of porcelain, but youâre much too preoccupied with how Joelâs mouth feels, how perfectly it molds against yours. He delicately nips your bottom lip with his teeth. Itâs a silent request.
He wants more, more, more. Your lips part for him, granting him the access heâs seeking. Joel doesnât waste a single moment and he explores every inch of your mouth with his tongue, eliciting a whimper from you. Without breaking contact, he takes your beer and somehow he manages to lean over to set it down on the coffee table without dropping it. He then pushes you back into the couch and the next thing you know, youâre lying on your back and heâs settled in between your legs, using one of his arms to keep himself propped up, while the other wraps itself in your hair. Your own hands clutch at fistfuls of his shirt, fingers gripping the fabric so tight, the skin over your knuckles stretches painfully thin.
You whimper out again, the noise prompting a low growl to rumble through his chestâsuddenly, heâs not being so gentle. He isnât being rough. But he is hungry, heâs possessive, and heâs letting it show in the way heâs swelling your lips with his kisses, how his fingers are gripping the hair at the base of your neck as he firmly tilts your head backwards to give himself better access to your mouth.
Your mind is racing, and yet, you canât think at all.
Itâs not until his hips buck into you and you feel his bulge through his jeans against you that you break away from him. âJoel,â you gasp his out name. You grip his shirt even harder, chest heaving as you try to catch a much needed breath of air. You can feel the arousal pooling between your legs. The flames burning in the fireplace are nothing in comparison to the ones that are burning deep in your belly.
âFuck,â he curses, pulling back. âMâsorryââ
The last thing you want is for him to be sorry.
âNo! Please donât be sorry,â you rasp, gazing up at him. Your eyes are glazed over with a lust you have never felt for another man before. âI want this, you know I want thisâdonât you?â
Joel sighs, brushing a soft kiss to your temple. You wish he could take a peek into your mind, see how badly you want to be wrapped up in his armsâyou want to get lost in his embrace, feel him all around you, inside you. You want him to write his name on your bare skin with his tongue, whisper his secrets into the spot where youâre aching for him most.
He sighs again and lightly shakes his head.
âBaby, yâneed to think real hard âbout thisââ
âI want this,â you repeat yourself. âI want you.â
Relaxing the death grip you have on his shirt, your hands release the fabric and move to the buttons. Your fingers tremble slightly as you undo each one of them; after an embarrassing fumble or two, you manage to get them all and push Joelâs shirt off of his shoulders. He sucks in a quick, sharp breath as your greedy hands begin roaming, exploring every inch of smooth, tan skin on his upper body.
Your touch erases all the uncertainty heâs feeling.
âWanna feel you too, baby.â Joel takes the hem of your sweater and gestures for you to sit up slightly so he can pull it over your head. Carelessly tossing it somewhere behind him, he glances down, blood rushing to his cock as he takes in the sight of your supple curves clad in sweet, delicate white lace. âChrist, you look so fuckinâ soft.â
He doesnât even realize heâs saying it out loud, not until he catches the flirtatious little grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. You sit up slightly once again and reach behind you to unhook the lingerie and take it off, adding it to the ever growing pile of clothes on the hardwood floor. Licking his lips, he meets your gaze for just a moment before dipping his head down, wrapping them around one of your hardened nipples. âJoel,â you mewl his name as he flicks the pebbled flesh with his tongue.
Joel releases it with a lewd, wet pop and he tosses you a smirk before he moves to the other to give it the same attention. Heâs a biter, you find out as he takes it between his teeth, nipping over and over.
Your throbbing center clenches around nothing.
âJoel, please. I need youâI fucking need you.â
He tears away from your nipple. âWhere, baby?â
You open your mouth to answer him, but your own gasp cuts you off as he starts trailing his lips down the length of your body until he comes to a stop at the waistband of your skirt. One of his hands finds the zipper on the side and he looks up at you, as if asking for permission. Desperate, you nod. Pulling the zipper down, he slides the skirt, along with the pair of lace white panties youâre wearing off of you and discards them, leaving you completely naked.
Your insecurities begin to trickle in, but Joelâs able to halt them right in their tracks.
âYouâre too fuckinâ beautiful, sweetheart,â he says, his reassurance calming your nerves instantly. âSo beautiful. So beautiful and so fuckinâ perfect.â
You watch as he makes himself comfortableâwell as comfortable as he canâin between your legs. He shoots you a sheepish look.
âKnew I shouldâa put the damn bed together. But I been puttinâ it off and puttinâ it off all week long.â
You giggle breathlessly. âWho needs a bed?â
Chuckling, Joel feathers a kiss on your inner thigh.
Your smile is all but slapped right off of your face.
âJoel.â
Any traces of humor vanish. Youâre both reminded of the next wall thatâs about to be broken, the next line thatâs about to be crossed.
He looks down and groans. âSuch a pretty, perfect little pussy,â he remarks, his voice low, husky. âBet sheâs nice and wet for me, ainât she baby?â He lifts his hand and drags the tip of his finger up your slit slowly, your slick coating his digit. He smirks up at you. âOh, sheâs fuckinâ soakinâ, sweet girl. Sâthis all for me?â
Foreplay wasnât in the vocabulary of guys your age and while part of you wishes Joel would hurry, you also find yourself enjoying the fact that heâs taking his time, teasing youâmaking you really want it to the point where youâre willing to fucking plead him for it. Joel Millerâs the only man youâd ever beg for.
He skims your other thigh with his nose and kisses it just like heâd done with the other. âTell me darlinâ sâthis where you need me? Right here?â
Frantically, you nod your head.
âWords, honey. Gotta use your words for me.â
âYes!â you choke out. âThatâs where I need you. So bad. Need you so fucking bad. Please Daddyââ
You freeze and momentarily, he does too. Truth be told, you wouldnât really blame him if he just stood up, gathered your clothes and tossed them at you, demanding you put them back on and leave.
Joel raises an eyebrow. âDaddy, huh?â
Your face is on fire. âIâit slipped,â you stammer. âI didnât mean to call youâIâm so sorry, Joel. Iâm not even sure where that came from. Iâve neverââ
Youâre on the verge of panicking, then notice there is a certain glimmer in his eyes and realize he liked it when youâd called him that. Youâre taken aback.
He fucking likes being called Daddy.
âSweetheart, there ainât nothinâ to be sorry âbout. I promise. You can call me that. But on a condition.â
You stare at him, no idea what the condition could possibly be.
âAinât allowed to call anyone else that. Ever.â There is a possessiveness in his tone and it nearly makes you come on the spot. âThat understood?â
You nod obediently. âYes.â
âYes what?â he prompts.
âYes, Daddy.â
âGood. Thatâs a real good girl, honey.â
For a split second, you canât breathe.
This man will surely be the death of you.
Joel plants one final kiss, this one on your mound.
âPlease,â you whimper, the heat in your lower belly growing and fizzling out to the rest of your body at the feeling of his breath over your aching core.
âPlease what?â he murmurs into the sensitive skin as his arms curl around your legs. âTell Daddyâtell Daddy what you need baby, so he can take care of you.â
âYour mouth,â you beg him, desperation mounting with each passing second. Your hips buck upward; his biceps flex as he tightens his arms around your thighs, pinning you down in place. âYour mouthâI need your mouth. Please.â
Joel moves his head to the junction of your thighs, his mouth hovering right over where you needed it the most. He looks up at you with hunger, like heâs a ravenous, starved man who hasnât had a thing to eat in days. âWhat a good girl,â he praises, dipping his head even lower. His mouth waters at the sight of your glistening folds. âBet you taste as delicious as you fuckinâ look, donât you, pretty girl?â
He flattens his tongue and glides it up your slit, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he gets his first taste. You gasp out when it grazes your swollen, aroused clit and your head falls back onto the couch. âOh fuck,â you whine, reaching for his hair. You weave your hands through his graying locks and pull his face closer. Another swipe of his tongue causes your back to arch up off the leather and the edges of your vision to blur.
He pulls an arm from around your legs and drags a finger down your drenched entrance, lips securing themselves around your clit. His gaze stays locked on you as he pushes his long, thick digit into youâyou feel him smirk as he curls it upwards, pressing the pad of his finger firmly against the soft spongy spot inside you, making you see stars. Joel slips in a second finger and curls it along with the other to double the pleasure. He begins thrusting his digits in and out of your warm cunt, eliciting what had to be the sweetest sounds that heâd ever heard in his entire life from you. He combines it with with slow, firm, and precise stokes of his tongue on your clit.
âFuck, yes, just like that,â you encourage him, your loud, breathy moans bouncing off the bare, freshly painted walls of his house. âYes Daddy, fuckâfeels so fucking good, please donât fucking stopââ
Itâs not like you have to tell him what to do.
Joel knows exactly what heâs doing, and he knows it too. He listens to every single one of your moans and feels every single buck of your hips. He is sure to pay extra attention to when your hands pull and tug at his curls; he remembers what combinations of licking, sucking, and fucking make you squeeze your plush thighs tighter around his head; reminds himself of which technique brings your body off of the couch, what makes your toes curl. Joelâs quick to learn your bodyâs cues, each and every last one. He already knows when to give you more, when to give you lessâwhen he needs speed up, when it is time to slow it all down.
You sing his name over and over again, pressure of an orgasm already building between your hips. His tongue swirls around your sensitive little bundle of nerves as his fingers pump in and out of your cunt and you glance down. You almost choke when you catch a tiny glimpse of the muscles in his forearm, the way they flex underneath his skin with each of his movements as heâs fucking you. Your gaze flits to his face. His own eyes are fixed intently on you.
Youâre milliseconds away from release.
âJoel, Iâm so fucking close. Iâm gonna comeââ
His arm squeezes your thigh in encouragement.
One last, broad stroke of Joelâs tongue on your clit sends an overwhelming wave of pleasure crashing over you. Strangled cries tear themselves from the back of your throat as your velvet walls flutter and convulse, squeezing his fingers. Joel, whoâs face is still half buried in your pussy, takes it upon himself to help you ride through the high. He peppers soft, delicate kisses onto your swollen clit as his fingers continue to slide in and out of you slowly. He waits patiently until your loud cries dissolve into nothing but breathless little whimpers before he crawls up, positioning himself on top of you, a hand on either side of your head. His beard and mustache glisten with a mixture of saliva and slickâand somehow it it ignites another fire and youâre ready for more, so much more.
âSweet girl,â Joel murmurs. Leaning down, his lips meet yours and you taste yourself on his tongue
You place a hand on his chest, right over his heart, which beats strong and steady against your palm.
You start dragging your hand down his chest, your fingernails raking over his skin. It travels lower and lower, gliding over the softness of his stomach. He tenses when you brush the waistband of his jeans.
Tearing away from you, he grits out, âBaby. No.â
You immediately snatch your hand away from him.
âYou changed your mind?â you question, stomach sinking at the thought of it being over already.
Youâre just so fucking greedy for this man.
He offers reassuranceâand an explanation.
âNo, that ainât it at all. Sâjustââ Joel pauses briefly and flushes a shade of red. âSâjust that, well, I ainât got condoms on me, darlinâ.â
Relieved, you assure him, âItâs okay. Iâm clean.â
âMe too. But that ainât what Iâm worried about,â he admits, his face going from red to maroon.
You smile, finding his embarrassment endearing.
âIâm on birth control.â
Joel clenches his hands into fists. His cock strains against his zipper at the thought of itâtaking your cunt bare. âYâsure you want this?â He rasps out. âI need you to be a hundred percent sure âbout it.â
âIâm a thousand percent sure, Joel. I fucking need it. More than anything Iâve ever needed in my life.â
Thatâs all he needed to hear.
Joel stands up, his gaze never leaving your own as he kicks off his black leather boots. You sit up, and it takes every ounce of strength you have in you to remain composed as he unbuckles his belt, unzips his jeans and pushes them down his legs. You bite down on your bottom lip and try not to stare at his bulge like itâs your first time ever seeing a dick, but if heâs as big as he looks in his boxer briefs, maybe this would end up being a lot more than what your body could handle.
He hooks his thumbs underneath the elastic of his boxer briefs and slides them off, allowing his thick, hard cock to spring free from its confinement.
You swallow harshly. Heâs fucking massive.
âLike what you see, sweetheart?â Joel chuckles at the expression on your face as he kicks aside all of his clothes. His length rests on his lower abdomen and precome smears the skin there. Wrapping one of his hands around it, he gives it a couple strokes, just a hint of relief until you come into play. âHm?â
Licking your lips, you nod and stand up. You take a couple of wobbling step towards himâJoelâs cock hasnât been anywhere near you and youâre already fucking walking side to side. âCome here,â you say to him, taking both his hands in your own. You pull him back to the couch and gently guide him down into a sitting position. Swinging your leg over both of his, you straddle his lap. You gingerly place your hands on his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh softly when you feel him brush against your pussy; the contact makes you both moan in unsion. âThis okay?â you ask him, breathily. You canât be sure as to why youâre suddenly feeling a bit shy, like youâre not planning to ride his fucking soul out of him.
âMore than okay.â Joel brushes your hair over your shoulder and then drags his hand down the length of your body, committing to his memory every one of your curves. âGonna be a real good girl and ride my cock, baby?â
You gift him with a cheeky grin. âYes, Daddy.â
The shyness begins to dissipate and you dive your hand between your bodies, wrapping it around his cock, causing his breath to catch in his throat. You lift yourself slightly off his lap, teasingly gliding the head of his cock down your drenched slit, then up, letting it graze over your clit, which is still senstive to the touch thanks to his lips and tongue.
Joelâs hands find their way around you, running up the curve of your spine. âWasnât aware that my girl was such a little fuckinâ tease,â he remarks in a low tone. He slides his hands back down and his large, warm palms cup your ass, fingers kneading flesh.
âYour girl?â you repeat, your heart skipping a beat, stomach fluttering at the idea of being his. âIs that what I am to you, Joel? Your girl?â
âSâthat what you want, honey?â Joel whispers, his eyes finding your own, two hopeful gazes meeting in the deepest, most intimate moment that youâve shared all evening. âYâwanna be my girl?â
Leaning forward, your reply is preceded by kiss, so soft and so sweet his heart swells inside his chest.
âI do,â you mumble against his lips. âI really do.â
Still gripping your ass, Joel eases you up and lines himself up at your entrance. He bucks his hips and slides the head of his cock past your folds and into your heat. âBreathe, baby,â he whispers, his hands moving to your hips, thumbs grazing your skin. He slowly guides you further down his shaft, grunting as you sink down, taking him inch by inch. âChrist, youâre so goddamn fuckinâ tightââ
The initial stretch is almost too much for you. Your nails sink deeper into his shoulders as he pulls you down further down onto him. âJoel,â you whimper, biting back a loud cry. Youâre fully seated, his cock completely sheathed inside you, his head pressing against your cervix. Youâre so full of him.
One of his hands abandons your hip and slips over your lower belly.
âThis where youâre feelinâ me, pretty girl?â he coos gently. âThis where you feel Daddyâs cock? In your belly?â
âYes,â you sigh out contentedly. âFeels so good.â
You lift yourself off of him, then slide back down in a slow, languid motion.
Joelâs head falls back onto the couch. âChrist.â He mutters the word, his chest heaving. Staring up at the ceiling, he takes a moment to catch his breath and silently wills himself not to explode. Once heâs managed to somewhat compose himself, he looks at you again, pupils blown so wide you canât find a single trace of brown. âGo on, then,â he rasps. âGo on, sweetheart.â
The living room fills with the sounds of low moans and panting breaths as you move, alternating your maneuvers between rocking and bouncing on him in a frenzied, fast paced rhythm. The friction of his pelvis each time you grind into it winds up the coil between your hips and suddenly youâre desperate, so pathetically desperate for another release.
âYeah, thatâs it baby,â Joel encourages, feeling the beginning of his own climax building quickâmuch too quick for his liking. âJusâ like that, honey. What a good girl you are for me, so fuckinâ good for me. Just like I fuckinâ knew you would be.â
âFuck,â you whine. âYou feel so good, Daddy. Feel so fucking good inside meââ
Leaning back, you firmly plant both your hands on his thighs and arch your body, head falling back as you pick up the pace. The burning fire casts a soft, orange glow around you and his jaw falls slack. His eyes drink in every single fucking thing about you, watch you with an adoration that, for the first time in your whole life, makes you feel wanted. Actually wanted.
âJoel,â you whisper his name over and over. Youâre both beginning to lose track of where you end and he begins. You can hardly hear the praises that are spilling from his plush lips over the squelching wet sounds of your cunt sliding up and down his cock. Thereâs no chance to warn himâyour mouth parts in a silent scream as you come undone on him.
âMâso fuckinâ close,â Joel grunts. He feels his cock twitch as your pussy grips him like a vice. âWhere? Where do you want it, pretty girl?â
âInside me. Please, I need you to come inside me,â you plead him, the innocent tone of your voice the last thing to push him over the edge heâs teetering on. âFill me up, Daddyâplease, want every drop of you inside meââ
Joel reaches for your arms and yanks you forward, into him. Throwing them around his neck, his own arms wrap around you and roughly slam you down onto him, holding you firmly in place. He bucks his hips upwards, balls tightening, his cock pulsing as he comes. Strings of hissed curse words and deep gutteral groans muffle when he drops his face into your collarbone. Still holding you in place, he spills his load into you, his seed filling you to the brim.
He sags back against the couch and pulls you with him. Wrapping his arms tighter around you, he lets himself stay buried inside of you, the primal in him relishing the heavenly feeling of his come dripping messily out of your pussy and all over his thighs.
âYou alright, sweetheart?â he asks after a minute.
âMâperfect,â you mumble against his chest. Youâre not sure if itâs because youâre coming down from a high or if itâs because heâs tracing patterns on your shoulder blade with his finger, but you shiver in his arms.
âLet me get the blanketââ
Joel starts to move to get up, but you stop him.
âNo, please donât,â you say, pushing him back. You put all of your weight onto him, as if he canât move you off to the side if he really wanted to. âIâI want you inside me for a little while longer. Please.â
âBut baby, youâre coldââ
You donât bother explaining to him that youâre not.
âJust hold me. Please.â
And thatâs exactly what he does.
Snuggling into him, you close your eyes and Joelâs hand strokes at your hair. Between that, the thrum of his heartbeat against your cheek and the sound of the fireplace crackling behind you, youâre nearly soothed into sleep.
âJoel?â
âYeah, darlinâ?â
âI hate Thanksgiving,â you admit, smiling tiredly to yourself when you feel a laugh rumble in his chest.
âDo you, now?â
You nod. âI do. But Iâm really thankful for you.â
Giving you a gentle squeeze, Joel kisses the top of your head and murmurs, âWell, mâthankful for you too, sweet girl.â He pauses momentarily. âI ainât all too sure how Iâm s��pposed to just let you go home. I know I have to butââ
Lifting your head off of his chest, you take the side of his face and cradle it in your palm. You meet his gaze, heart sinking when you see the sadness that has replaced the lust from earlier.
He doesnât mean home to your parentsâ house. He means Chicago.
You graze his beard with your thumb. âIâm coming back in a few weeks,â you remind him, gently. âIâve only planned to spend a week out here just for the holidays, but I can visit sooner. As soon as the kids go on winter break, I can come back to Austin.â
âYouâd do that for me?â
âOf course I would, Joel. Iâm not sure how it would work what with my parents and all, though. I donât want them catching onto us.â
âCâmere.â Joel brushes your lips with his before he makes his promise. âIâll figure it out, baby. Leave it all to me and Iâll figure it out.â
divider credit to @saradika-graphics đ¤
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When Ratio kisses you, which isn't rare, yet not the most common, it's not purely physical. No, he pours all of his mind into the kiss and tells you just how much you mean to him through the rash movement of his lips against yours, as his words were never enough, nor were they his preferred display of love.
Due to this, he can't help but get carried away sometimes when demonstrating his affection for you, which is why you were now sitting on his lap panting as you tried to recover your breath.
Meanwhile, he seemed to be unbothered by the earlier lack of oxygen, mouthing along your neck and sucking and biting on the sensitive skin there as you breathed heavily from his previous kiss. He nipped at a particularly sensitive spot above your collarbone, leaving a dark mark as he was reluctant to pull away.
He loved the soft sounds you made as you weakly clutched at his clothes, swallowing thickly. He did not stop his ministrations completely, though he did give you a slight break.
After all, Ratio may be a genius with his higher intellect, but he was still just a man, and he had his own desires, especially when his lover was so stunning. He mostly opted for less words and more touch whenever you two were intimate like this, because he wanted you to feel him and his emotions.
âVeri-â You tried to speak, but were quickly cut off by his lips attaching to yours once again, your eyes swiftly closing as you let out a sharp breath into his mouth. He wasted no time in deepening the kiss, his hand tugging at your hair so he could slip his tongue into your mouth with the small opening your gasp gave him. He was greedy and desperate, that he was.
âJust be quiet.â He said after he eventually pulled away for only a moment, his eyes scanning yours as stray strands of his hair fell over his face, shifting you closer on his lap before pulling you back in with his hand on the back of your neck.
You refrained from talking again as he continued, his touch both a mix of roughness yet treating you gently at the same time. What an enigma he was, but your mind barely had time to dwell on that train of thought as he pulled away from your lips once again, marking your upper neck with sharp bites and a soft soothe of his tongue over the blemishes seconds later.
Ratio was insatiable, his hands seeming unable to stop their journey around your body as he wanted to touch you everywhere at once.
He held you as if you would leave any moment, but rather he did this because he needed you close, he just needed you. Despite him being extremely popular among the Intelligentsia Guild and known for his good looks with many rumors surrounding him and his love life, the poor guy was touch starved, barely letting anyone else this close before you.
He couldn't deny that he loved your touch a little too much, not even as you teased him while he pressed his skin against yours, panting for a moment as he tried to control himself.
When he finally met your eyes once again with the feeling of his hands tugging and undoing the buttons on your shirt, it felt like he was eating you alive already just by the intensity of his gaze. It sent chills down your spine and you knew you were in for a long night.
Not that you minded, anyway.
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flynn rider aemond being tied up with rupanzels hair and he gets hard abt it lol
Innocent rupanzel has never seen a man so she starts to experiment around him
First was spot the difference, what constitutes as a man and woman, only to find his half hard cock and this makes her wet
and she takes all her frustrations out on his dick
Is ThisâŚHair?! -Yandere!Aemond T
Important A/n:Must Read (Dark)
Okay so this one is DEFINITELY DARK. Y/n is the epitome of innocence, sheâs lived in the tower her whole life, only ever read the books that her âMotherâ got for her and she didnât have any clue that men even existed.
She is clueless because when she asks her âMotherâ questions she gets beaten, she learned very young to just do as she was told.
The first thing Aemond realized as he woke up was that he was unable to move, opening his eye he saw a circular room, but it had everything a house needed. A small kitchen, living space, too few bookshelves for his taste, then there were stairs leading up to what he assumed was a bedroom. Just as he looked down to try and free himself there was a voice that came fromâŚabove him?
âDonât try to escape, youâll never get out!â A girls voice spoke and Aemond looked up, seeing what looked like a girl hiding behind one of the beams near the ceiling.
âLook, Iâm sorry I just broke into your house but I was in a bit of trouble. I wonât hurt you Darling, please wonât you let me out ofâŚIs thisâŚHair?!â He was stunned as he finally figured out what the soft texture of the âropeâ was.
All at once the girl leapt down to the floor, controlling her descent with it, not harming herself a bit it seemed. âHave you come for my hair?! Mother always said someone would! I didnât believe her butâŚShe was right to lock me away up here.â
Aemond instantly found himself thinking about how gorgeous this girl was, she was absolute perfection made into human form, not one single blemish aside from the bruise on the side of her face that looked like someone had slapped her pretty hard. His thought then trailed to the idea that she had been up here her entire life with no one to talk to, never able to leaveâŚwhat kind of a mother would do that to her child?
Then again, who is Aemond to judge? Heâs not a good man, never has been and never will be. Hell, heâs tied to a chair with a hot girl inspecting him and he is unable to control his own cock as it swells in his breeches.
âHave you been up here your entire life?â He wondered as she stepped a bit closer, now about 5 feet away.
âOf course! The outside world is dangerous, mother says there are monsters everywhere!â He could see how scared she was a he felt for her a bit. She had never experienced anything that is good in the world, just kept inside and naive, too innocent for the world around her. Aemond had never been innocent, as long as he can remember he was alone, having run away from the orphanage he grew up in when he was 11 he fended for himself fairly well.
âHonestly you are describing almost every guy Iâve ever met, though theyâre not all bad. Iâm not a bad guy, I donât want to hurt you. I only came here to hide.â
âWhat is a âguyâ?â She asked and Aemond felt his jaw drop. What had this girls mother done to her?!
âYouâŚyou donât know what a guy is?â She shook her head. âA guy is a boy, itâs the opposite of a girl, you are a girl, I am a boy or you could say that you are a woman and I am a man. You know the old stories of a man and a woman falling in love and living happily ever after?â She shook her head.
âWhat is love?â Once again he was stunned by her naĂŻvetĂŠ but he half expected this one. However this one gave him an ideaâŚAemond loved her innocence, craved it and here it was for the taking. If he took his time, he was confident he could own this girls soul if he wanted to.
And he Desperately wanted to.
âCome closer and look at me, I wonât try to move, I promise. Just see our differences and youâll understand.â She cautiously crept closer until she stood before him. âTouch me, you know what you look and feel like, now feel me. Itâs okay, go on.â She hesitated, unsure about this stranger. âHey, whatâs your name, hmm?â
âR-Rapunzel.â
âWow, thatâs a beautiful name. My name is Aemond, okay? We know each others names so weâre friends now, no reason to be nervous sweet girl. Now, come sit on my lap and look at me.â Rapunzel must have thought his explanation to be a sound one because a moment later she plopped herself into his lap and reached up to touch his face.
âYour face is scratchy.â She giggled, rubbing over the stubble.
âThereâs a reason for that. When a man and a women love each other they play games together just for them, the rough stubble on my face will make my future wife happy.â She looked to be considering that but didnât ask before touching the eyepatch and looking curious.
âDid someone hurt you Aemond?â He nodded and she took the eyepatch off to see a large sapphire where his eye should be. âYouâre so pretty.â She stated, touching over his scar gently before running her hands down his jaw to his neck and over his chest which was flat and hard unlike hers. âThatâs differentâŚâ she admitted, looking down at her chest to see where it is much bigger than his.
âYou can look if youâd like, men have hard, flat chests, usually with defined muscles. Women have breasts-â
âWhy?â She questioned as she began unbuttoning his shirt, though she was unable to pull it off with her hair in the way.
âTheyâre for whatever man she falls in love with to touch and suck on, theyâre also for feeding whatever babies a man and woman have togetherâŚyou can untie me if youâd like. I promise, I wonât move a muscle until you want me to. I want to help you understand this, itâs an important life lesson that your mother is wrong for not telling you about.â Rapunzel considered this, he hadnât been fighting against her despite him being able to hurt her in his lap so, why not?
She hopped up and began untying Aemond from her hair but once she did, he did not move at all other than to gesture her back onto him.
âNo, try the other way. Put one knee on either side of my legs, youâll be able to see me better.â
âOhâŚthatâs smart!â She smiled and Aemond wanted to see that smile on her face everyday for the rest of his life, he wanted to see her smile up at him while his cock is buried into her virgin tight cunt for the rest of his days on this Earth.
He couldnât hold in the groan as she began rubbing his chest so delicately, he was in heaven already and he still knew he could take so much more. âDo you need help untying your dress? So that you can compare better, of course.â She thought for a moment before nodding her head and allowing Aemond to untie the back of her dress and pull it down her arms and all the way to her waist. Her breasts werenât overly big, they were petite and cute, perfect in Aemondâs eyes, though his cock twitched when he considered what they would look like swollen with milk atop her belly swollen with his child. He was no longer half hard, he was fully erect and leaking against his breeches. âCan I show you something?â She didnât hesitate to nod this time as her breathing was becoming a bit faster, she was getting excited and that is exactly what Aemond needs, now he just needs to make sure that sheâs as wet as she can be.
He leans forward and kisses her chest between her breasts before pressing his jaw to her skin and hearing her gasp at the scratchy sensation against her sensitive skin which was instantly made stronger as he moved over her nipple. âOh God! Do-D-Do that again! Please?!â She whined and Aemond chuckled, doing as she asked and as he did her hips moved against her will making her feel something against her Kitty. She was going to ask what it was but all thought flew from her brain as Aemond wrapped his lips around her other nipple and suckled gently. âAh-Oh! Aemond that feelsâŚit-â her hips were grinding down on him once again but she didnât care anymore, the sensation rising in her belly felt too good to stop. âDonât stop! Please?! I-I needâŚâ Aemond wrapped one of his arms around her waist, adjusting his hips and began helping her grind down on his length harder as he licked over her sensitive nipple, sucking even harder and twisting the other between his fingers roughly. She threw her head back as she came, her body shaking at the intense orgasm but Aemond kept up his attentions on her until she came back down.
âThat felt good, didnât it?â She nodded, face now in his neck as she breathed heavily. âIt made you feel good right down here.â He stated, cupping her pussy and making her whimper at his attention. âThis is your cunt, or your pussy, and it is so specialâŚdo you know why?â She shook her head as she sat back again to look at him. âItâs special because it can make you and the man you love feel so amazingly good.â
âHow do I know if I love a man, Aemond?â He smirked, unable to help feeling successful at this moment.
âThat really good feeling I just gave you?â She nodded. âThat means I love you, it means you are the only girl in the world for me. Now if you can make me feel like that too then that means you love me. It would mean that we are meant to be togetherâŚdoes that make sense?â
âYesâŚwhat should I do to make you feel good?â She asked him and he took hold of her legs and lifted her against him, moving them both over to the couch and laying her down.
âI just moved you here so that it will be more comfortable for you, I donât want my Princess in unnecessary pain, do I?â Her eyes widened and she smiled before shaking her head. âIâm going to show you the biggest difference between a man and women, alright?â He sat back on his knees between her legs and unhooked his belt before pulling his pants down enough for his cock to slap against his stomach and he saw her eyes widen as she looked at it. âYou can touch it if you want to, just be gentle.â She sat up a bit and reached out to wrap her hand around it making his head fall back as he groaned. âThis is my cock, and itâs very sensitive. You can make it feel so good for me just like I made you feel.â
âShow me how! I wanna make you feel good too Aemond.â
âSuch a sweet girl you are, fuck! You can make it feel good just stroking it if you want, or you can put it in your mouth and suck on it, that feels incredible.â He stopped her from moving to put her mouth on him making her pout which he found adorable. âThe thing that makes a manâs cock feel best though, is when itâs inside a tight little pussy like yours.â Her eyes widened in surprise before looking back at his cock.
âI donât think that will fit AemondâŚâ
âOf course it will pretty girl.â He promised, laying her back and kissing her cheek gently. âI love you, and you love me, I already know it. Now Iâm gonna make the both of us feel really good, okay? Do you trust me?â She hesitated a moment before realizing that she does which prompted her to nod her head. âThatâs my good girl. Now this is going to be uncomfortable for a moment, maybe even a tad bit painful but I promise it will pass quickly, alright? Then you will feel nothing but pleasure.â
âOkayâŚI trust you.â Thereâs a small part of his brain that feels a bit bad taking advantage of her like this but if he didnât then someone else would and they would probably be 10x worse than him. Heâs going to make her feel good for the rest of her life, and sheâs going to give him all the pleasure and babies he could ever want. Itâs worth it any way you look at it.
âJust relax for me.â He instructed as he pulled her panties down and tossed them aside, pressing his cock against her hole and pushing into her gently. He didnât stop until he bottomed out before he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her softly and taking her mind off of the discomfort. She kissed back happily, following his lead and eventually he felt her relax. âThere you are pretty girl.â He pulled his hips back, pushing into her again slowly which made her whine as it clearly felt good. âSuch a good girl, letting me fuck your little pussy. So fucking good Princess!â He moaned as he rocked back and forth, picking up the pace a bit at a time before she was a panting, mewling mess as he drilled his cock in and out of her as hard as he could. âYou feel so good for me baby, making my cock feel so fucking good! Such a good girl!â
âDonât stop, please? Feels-ah! Never want you to stopâŚâ she whined, pulling his head down to kiss her again which he happily did.
âGonna fuck you like this all the time Princess. All day every day, this pussy was made for me! Your body was made for me, made to take my cock! Oh fuck, Iâm gonna cum! Gonna fill you up so good baby!â
âC-cum?â She mumbled and he just grunted as he buried his face into her neck.
âCum, remember how good you felt before? That was cumming. Gonna cum inside you, fill you up so deep! Youâll never want to be empty again, and Iâll never leave you without my cum.â He could feel her pussy squeezing around him suddenly as she cried out and he fucked her through it before thrusting harder and making her look up at him. âTell me what you want.â
âI want you to cumâŚwant you to cum in me and feel so good!â
âTell meâŚtell me you want me to put a baby in you!â He grunted, so close and desperate to hear her say it, knowing she would do anything he said at this point.
âYes! Fill me up! Put a baby in me, please? Want your babies!â
âOh Fuck! FuckFuckFuck!â He pushed his cock as deep into her cunt as he could physically get before he came, shooting everything he had up into her womb. âGood girl, gonna have my babies. God, I love you Princess-fuck!â
âI love you too AemondâŚyou feel so goodâŚâ
âThatâs right Princess. Youâre all mine now, all fucking mine.â
Aemond âTangledâ Moodboard
Aemond T. Masterlist
#house of the dragon aemond#house of targaryen#house of the dragon#house targaryen#hotd dragons#hotd season 1#hotd imagine#hotd season 2#hotd x reader#hotd smut#hotd#hotd aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond#aemond one eye#prince aemond targaryen#prince aemond#aemond targaryen x oc#aemond targaryen fic#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen x y/n#aemond the kinslayer#tangled#Rapunzel Retelling#flynn rider#Flynn rider!Aemond#naive!oc#Aemond Targaryen moodboard
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CeraVe Blemish Control Gel
CeraVe Blemish Control Gel for Clear and Hydrated Skin available in Pakistan
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