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hier--soir · 8 months

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a lover's pinch | eight

joel miller x f!reader

pairing: professor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: the one where they get caught. warnings/tags: au, university professor joel, age gap [20 something years diff], ethically dubious relationship due to inherent power imbalance, domestic bliss, gratuitous descriptions of joel reading, joni mitchell, explicit unprotected piv sex, delayed gratification, dirty talk, finger sucking, biting, academic praise kink, cream pie, who's in the pic on joel's desk??, angst, confrontation, an orpheus and eurydice metaphor uh oh, those blue panties from 3 come back to haunt us. word count: 6.9k nice series masterlist | main masterlist chapter moodboard a/n: i need someone to make me write [or not write] the way j miller phd does in this... also sorry and i hope you like it and sorry again follow @hier--soirupdates if you'd like to be notified when i share my writing this is part eight of ALP. you can read the previous parts here: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

Winter descends over Maine not with a bang, but with a whimper.

The days and weeks fold together in a blurring mess of sleep ins and papers and coffees, until suddenly a month has passed, and you hardly noticed it slipping through your fingers.

You spend less time at home, and more tucked on one side of Joel’s couch, your feet in his lap as he lounges down the other end. You dip pale toast in runny yolks at the table, listening to him on the phone to Sarah in the other room. Hear him say I’m good, baby girl… I’m really good when she asks how he is.

You ride shotgun in the truck between his place and the university, slipping out the passenger door a little early every time. Walk the final stretch lest someone notice his glasses, your hair through the windscreen.

On campus you watch him up there on his stage, a burn in your chest, and see how he seeks you out in the after. How he props you above him and returns your gaze finally. Curls his body around yours and repents for every time he had to look away.

It's warm and it’s kind and it’s trading books with scribbled notes in the margins.

It’s rain smacking against the windows as you read, his scruffy chin nesting in the slope where your neck meets your shoulder, two sets of eyes staring at the same words.

It’s nodding off in his bed where the sheets have started to smell like your perfume, eyelids heavy as you wait for him to get home. It’s wearing only his clothes and being woken up by his face between your thighs, pupils blown and lips slick.

It’s finding each other at the end of a long day and hearing him say, I thought about you all afternoon.

And this feeling of familiarity writhes between the slats of your ribs. A comfortable, quiet fondness that you see reflected in his eyes when he looks at you; that you hear when that tender mouth forms your name.

You gorge yourselves on it. Put lips to the crooks and thorns in each other’s bodies and suckle on that fondness, swallow, swallow, and watch the well never run dry.

The bleed is endless. Beneath the stain of time it floods and flurries, melting the two of you together until you start to feel certain it could never end.

Until, of course and at last, it does.

Sunday.

It’s late, you think. Somewhere in the mess where time blurs between sunset and midnight, Winter stealing hours that feel like minutes.

The curtains in his living room are drawn, low yellow light warming the room from a tall lamp in the corner. Blue spins in the on the record player, a gentle sway of sound that fills the room.

I like listening to Joni on Sundays, he’d confessed in the bathroom, bashful as he rubbed a towel over you, drying the wet ends of your hair and the slick skin of your shoulders.

He reads at the table now, strong chin cupped in his palm as his eyes flit across the pages of a textbook.

Something to do with conservation; a Minoan palace in Knossos, you think. He’d explained it earnestly, but his curls were soft and fluffy from the shower and his glasses were resting on the tip of his nose and so you’d found yourself zoning out, eyes going from round to heart shaped as you nodded along from the couch.

Every few minutes he grips his pen and jots down a note before glancing up to check on you. And whenever this happens you avert your eyes quickly, pretending to be enthralled by the half-finished essay on your screen. You have a feeling he catches you each time, because he keeps laughing softly, tutting under his breath as he goes back to reading, foot never stopping its tap-tap-tap in time with the music. The only time he gets up is to flip the record, and soon those little laughs and huffs start to mix with Joni’s bell-like voice, and the opening lyrics to California swell through the room as you type at a glacial pace.

She sings, I met a redneck on a Grecian isle, and you glance up again, eyes turning wide and doe-like when you find Joel already watching you. He gave me back my smile, Joni sings. But he kept my camera to sell.

“How’s the writing going?”

“Good.” Liar. “Great, even.” Bad liar.

Joel’s eyes narrow behind his glasses, lips twitching in a clear attempt to smother a laugh, but he just nods, looking back down at his book.

He’s wearing home clothes. That’s what he called them. Home clothes.

When he’d said it, still pulling them on, you’d wanted nothing more than to grip his hands and stop him in his tracks, but you’d sequestered yourself to the other side of the room instead, sorely committed to the study evening he’d suggested. But he’s in soft grey sweatpants and an even softer looking white t-shirt, and every time he sips his coffee he hums happily against the rim of his mug, and his bare foot goes tap-tap-tap and Joni sings Oh, will you take me as I am?, and—

“Come here.”

You blink. His eyebrows raise expectantly, lips split into a broad smile now.

“Unless you’d rather stay over there and keep starin’.”

You reach him as The Last Time I saw Richard, the final track on side two, begins to spin.

Joni sings, all romantics meet the same fate, and Joel’s knees fall apart, thighs splayed so handsomely across his chair, inviting you to take a seat. You ignore the woeful lyrics and focus instead on the knowing smirk on his face, taking a step forward, and another, until you’re stood between his open legs.

He doesn’t touch you. Just smiles, all saccharine and easy, leaning back in his chair.

“Much left to do?” He points at the laptop in your hands.

“Maybe another hundred words,” you grumble and put it down on the table. “Today, at least.”

Joel hums, eyes flicking down. His gaze skirts across the bare skin of your legs, the soft sleep shorts you’re wearing; ones he puts on you himself, and knows you don’t have anything beneath.

“Come here.” He pats his thigh; stops you with a soft tut when you try to straddle him. “Naw, baby, like this.”

Soft hands tilt your hips, turn you until your back is to his chest and he’s drawing you onto his lap.

“Oh.” You smile, leaning your head back onto his shoulder.

Nose turned into the side of his face, you brush a kiss to the edge of his jaw and sigh in relief as he wraps his arms around your middle and squeezes.

The space between his chest and the table is a little tight; small enough that if you were to lean forward a few inches your ribs would knock against the wood.

As if he’s thinking the same thing, Joel leans forward. Presses you against the table, one hand coming up to hold your face. His fingers are soft on your skin, offering small amounts of pressure as he grips your jaw and encourages you to look forward.

“Gonna tell me what’s on your mind?” he asks.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up a little, skin prickling at the shift in his tone. Still soft, still quiet, yet with something… demanding, shifting just below the surface.

“You,” you say, cringing at the way your voice takes on a higher quality all of a sudden. Steeling yourself, you add, “You’re distracting me.”

“Wasn’t doing anythin’,” he responds simply. “Just sittin’ over here, minding my business while you burn holes in my head.”

“You know what you’re doing.”

“I cooked dinner.” He squeezes you again. “Fed you. We showered, and now I’m readin’.”

“You were humming.”

Joel kisses the shell of your ear.

“And tapping.”

He flutters his fingers against your hip.

“S’that such a crime?” he murmurs.

“No, but…” You sigh when his tongue snakes out, tracing the soft curve of your earlobe. “But it…”

“But but but,” Joel mocks, and you can feel his sick smirk against your neck, teeth teasing along your carotid now. “But all you can think about is my cock, ain’t that right?”

Your stomach falls away. Everything firm inside you turns to goo as he laughs, knowing he’s right.

“So needy,” he taunts you, holding your hip tighter as his length begins to thicken against your ass. “Had all day to ask for it.”

You don’t respond, tongue tied and more uninterested in your essay than ever.

“Just lookin’ for a distraction now,” he teases lightly. “The more you put it off, the harder it’ll be to get it done, baby.”

“I know.”

“If you know.” He hooks a finger over the waistband of your shorts. “Then finish it.”

“S’not that simple,” you whine, rolling your hips over his lap. A sharp puff of air warms the back of your neck, so you do it again. His hand tightens around your jaw.

“Just a hundred words, right?” he coaxes gruffly. “Come on now, I’ll make it worth your while.”

You feel his thick cock beneath his sweats, stiff and pressing between the crease of your thighs, melting what’s left of your resolve. You want to grind down against it. To pull your soft sleep shorts to the side and let him sink inside with no more pretence. But you put your hands on the desk, eyes on the screen, and Joel slides his warm palms beneath the hem of your t-shirt. Floats them over the curve of your stomach, the soft flesh around your ribs, waking thousands of tiny hairs that cover your skin until his fingers meet your chest, and he cups your breasts.

You shiver, lids growing heavy as he squeezes and tickles at your skin. Your nipples harden to peaks against his rough palms, and he sighs at the feeling, face resting against the back of your neck as he plays.

“Fuck,” you sigh, voice a broken buzz in your throat as he pinches one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. “I thought you wanted me to write.”

“I do,” Joel murmurs unconvincingly. “A hundred words, go on.”

Hands like lead on the table, it feels like an impossible task. Even more than it did ten minutes ago. You force yourself to lift your fingers to the keyboard, vision sharpening as you look for where you left off. You try to shut him out, try to ignore the way his tongue warms the skin on your neck, the way the hairs on his thighs tickle against yours, and begin to write.

But he doesn’t make it easy.

The second you finish the first sentence one of his hands drifts down your stomach to cup your pussy over your shorts. You flinch, heart galloping in your chest when he sighs in your ear.

“Joel,” you whimper, pleading already. “I can’t if you…”

“You can,” he soothes. The warmth of his palm is suffocating, so hot against where you’re already wet and wanting. Thick fingers press against the fabric, nudging it between your slick folds until it goes damp. “Just ignore me, baby.”

“Easier said than done,” you reply. You type five more words, chest rattling with heavy breaths as he paws at you, thumbing at your clit through your shorts.

His breath is hot and heavy against your neck and his soft curls tickle your skin as you try to focus.

“Ignore me,” he repeats, and you squeak as he tilts you forward. A rush of breath spills from your mouth, chest flush to the desk, ass suspended above his lap as he shifts behind you. And when he pulls you back down, you sigh pathetically over the fact that he’s pushed his sweats down.

The full weight of his length presses against you, nestled between the rounded flesh of your ass, and you manage to mumble his name.

“Just—” You’re panting now; considering begging. “—I can do this later. I will finish it later, I swear, just—”

Joel nudges your shorts to the side and presses a finger between your folds. A ragged gasp stutters out of you, finger jammed against the keyboard. A steady stream of kkkkkkkkkkkkkkk fills a line of the document as he smears your wetness up to your clit.

“Fuck,” you mumble, hips tilting forward, trying to chase the feeling.

“None of that,” he tuts quickly, other hand slipping down and pinching the skin at the inside of your thigh. You’ve only backspaced half of the k’s when he slips two fingers inside you. “Come on, now.”

Thirty words fly as he crooks his fingers inside you. Slow and gentle, thumb rubbing messy circles against your clit as he works you open.

“That’s it,” he coos, pressing a third finger inside. Your cunt sucks desperately at his fingers, the skin of your face warming as you catch a glimpse of your reflection on the laptop screen. Jaw hanging low, a silent prayer for relief written across the open slant of your mouth. “My smart girl. Knew they didn’t give you that degree for nothin’.”

You gasp and swat at his wrist, but a satisfied little smile cracks your face for a moment when he laughs. Only for it to fall seconds later when he lays a sharp bite to the back of your shoulder. You moan, voice cracking around his name, rutting desperately against his hand.

“You can do it,” he flatters you, sickly sweet and entirely convincing as he strokes at your insides. Curling and stretching until you’re turning to a wet trembling mess in his lap, wobbling through half-assed sentences that you aren’t sure even match up with your essay outline anymore.

“Good,” Joel murmurs. “That’s good.”

“Don’t look,” you slur out, heart pounding at the idea of him reading anything you’ve written in this state. “It’s f-for your class, you can’t look.”

“Not lookin’.” He noses at the back of your ear. Presses an open-mouthed kiss to the hinge of your jaw. “Just lookin’ at you, m’always just lookin’ at you.”

“I’ll finish it.” You switch up your tactic now. Voice low and breathy, the back of your head resting heavy on his shoulder, eyes longing to close. “Tomorrow, I’ll write it—”

“Tomorrow?” His thumb drags harder on your clit.

“Yes,” you gasp, stomach tensing. You feel a bit floaty all of a sudden. Locked out of your own mind, all thoughts spilling from between your thighs as desire grips you, consumes you. “Please, just…”

“What, baby?” he prompts. “Say it.”

“Just let me sit on your cock,” you groan. “Please, I can’t think right now, I’ll finish it, I promise.”

“You fuckin’ promise—Christ,” he grumbles, fingers drifting from your tight clutch. “Just a little more, baby, for me.”

You don’t even really know how it happens after that. Ears roaring, skin tight, everything is a blur as you write and write and write and he presses his leaking tip between your folds works you down onto his length. Hands everywhere, so warm, so rough, holding your thighs, your waist, your breasts, your shorts to the side. Slower when your gasps spin higher, you think, always knowing when to ease up, when the burn gets too much too quick.

Joel grips your thighs, prying them apart until your calves are on the outside of his, and then he’s shifting his legs open wide, giving your own no choice but to follow. You feel the full weight of him in this position. The long, thick stretch of his cock inside you as your legs dangle listlessly over his lap, toes straining and failing to reach the floor. You can do nothing but rest heavily across his thighs, those hands still everywhere all at once, and whine pitifully as your walls spasm and clench around him, coil inside pulling tighter and tighter.

Vision waning, the text on your screen warbles as Joel slips the pad of his finger against your clit and begins to play with it. Soft little rubs that have you going tense and leaning forward on the table, braced on your elbows and grinding down into his lap, desperate for release, for movement, anything. It feels like your brain is splintering into a thousand tiny pieces inside your skull.

“You’re so wet,” Joel rasps, forehead heavy against your shoulder blade as he groans. “Pretty pussy’s drippin’ all over me, honey. You really need it that bad?”

You say something you think, mouth moving and eyes rolling as his hips shift up in a weak little thrust. Just one.

“Keep goin’.” He sounds pained, half-drunk as the words stumble out of him.

Your mind slips further from your grasp and you’re typing pure gibberish. Slurring messes of letters cloaked in perfect punctuation. Your fingers fly across the keys, painting commas and full stops and semi colons around complete and utter bullshit as your cunt flutters and your belly stirs.

His finger glides and his cock pulses and your vision darkens and you come. Shoulders hunched, table digging into your forearms, you fold forward and cry out as an agonisingly brief orgasm rips through you.

It’s over before it’s even begun, but Joel groans and offers a shallow thrust, your cry turning to a gasp as he grips your thigh for dear life.

“Oh good girl,” he murmurs, fingers slowing against your nerves, not wanting to overwhelm. “Fuckin’ squeezing me so tight, baby.”

“Joel.” There are tears in your eyes now. Liquid frustration that pools against your waterline and threatens to spill when he still doesn’t fuck you how you need him to.

“How much left?” he asks roughly, rocking his hips against yours in a steady pace now. Gentle, rolling movements that snag on the heels of your orgasm and hold it close.

“Huh?”

“How many words?”

“I don’t…” Your eyelids flutter. “I don’t know.”

“Shit, sweetheart,” he laughs a little then, rueful but not unkind. “That’s gonna be hell to edit.”

With a furious groan you slam the laptop closed, the sharp smack of metal on metal filling your ears as he grips your hips and really starts to fuck you.

It’s not fast though, not rough. Just deep, lingering strokes that grind against the end of you and nudge you stumbling toward the edge. He pinches your clit between the tips of his middle and ring fingers, rubbing slow drags up and down against the hood like that. Moaning and sweating, you slip your hand over his. Press lower and let your fingers glide around his girth, thick and vascular between your thighs, hot skin wetter every time he pulls out of you.

“Feel that?” Joel pants, teeth nipping at the top of your spine. “You’re creamin’ for me, baby. Fuck, I—I need to taste it.”

“Shit—oh god.”

He grips your wrist and drags it up, chin harsh against your shoulder as he sucks your fingers into his mouth.

The groan he lets out is filthy as his hot tongue snakes out to lick the webbing between your fingers, and you tip your head to watch his eyes roll back. His thighs tremble beneath you, but you can’t be sure it’s not just the vibrations of your own body tricking you.

But no, it’s him. His hips stutter against yours, deep plunges stilting into shallow movements, and he stalls deep inside your cunt for a second on the end of every thrust, as if his brain is short-circuiting.

You hook your fingers in his mouth, the tips digging into the gums behind his teeth, and tug him back to reality. He nips at your fingers and moans, hand falling heavy between your thighs again. And he doesn’t stop now; keeps pushing and pinching and fucking and grinding until your pussy is pulling tight and slick around his length and your fingers are fanned loose and shaky across his face, and you can hardly breathe except to say Joel or please or oh my god.

“Can feel it,” he grunts breathlessly, skin smacking against yours in a sharp staccato beat. “Deep breath, baby, c’mon, let me have it.”

“Your teeth,” you gasp feverishly. “Bite me again.”

“Fuck,” he snarls and then he’s grating the hard line of his incisors along your shoulder.

The sweet pinch of his canines digging into your back sets your cunt aflutter around him, mouth hung open in silent ecstasy as he fucks you full of his seed and you suck it in deep, tight with longing, still panting and high when it begins to drip from where you’re connected, spooling around his cock and smearing between your thighs and his.

His chest heaves against your back. Chest hair damp wet sweat, dripping through your thin shirt until it can’t decide whether to cling to his skin or yours. There’s an ache at the base of your spine, maybe a muscle pulled, and his thumb presses into the flesh there as if he can sense it.

Sounds come back slowly. Joni’s finished and the needle tracks around the runout groove on the record, a little crackle flaring every few seconds where the two channels join. Joel’s breathing too, rough against your shoulder, harmonising with the wet sound of his lips peeling from your skin.

You tilt your head to the side.

Wild eyed, cunt-struck, Joel knocks his nose against yours. Groans low when you flick your tongue out to graze across his bottom lip. He’s bitten it rough and ragged and red, and you want to soothe the sting. His glasses are on top of his head, smudged lenses tucked amidst wild fluffy curls.

You try to kiss him, hard and wet, but he stops you with a hand to your jaw. Cradles your face and strokes your cheekbone and wipes the spittle from your lips before kissing you lightly. Chaste and gentle, like the two of you are ten and have never kissed anyone before, have never been brave enough to use your tongues.

That invisible bleed in your chest drips heavier. You picture a thick spurt of red against your chest cavity as he kisses the corners of your mouth, the tip of your nose, your eyelids.

“You good?” he asks quietly.

You nod, smiling when his lips catch and drag across your skin with the movement of your head.

A moment passes like this. Searching kisses dotted over your smiling face. The swell of your cheeks, the ends of your eyebrows.

“Sometimes I feel like you aren’t real,” Joel confesses. A bare bones whisper that tickles the skin between your eyebrows, where his lips rest now. “Like you might just melt away if I don’t hold on tight enough. Disappear if I look away too long, and I’ll be stuck tryna convince myself that you were ever really here.”

Twisted up in his arms, you can feel the way his heart batters against his chest, thrashing through to vibrate against your back. He might as well be plucking the admission straight from your own mouth.

“I’m real,” you murmur against his neck. “I’m here, it’s real.”

“Me too,” he says. Something wet tickles your skin, but it’s gone in a second. Rubbed over by his thumb, soothed with another kiss.

I love you, you think, but when you speak it comes out as, “No melting.”

Joel laughs softly. Kisses you again. “No melting.”

Thursday.

“It was too much.”

“It was fine.”

“I said the word grateful three times.”

“Four, actually.” You chew the inside of your cheek and shrug apologetically. “I counted.”

“Jesus,” Joel sighs, reaching up to a drag a hand over his face.

He’s pulled his desk chair all the way across the office. Tie loosened and top buttons undone, he slumps in it a little. His thick knees almost brush against yours where you sit in his armchair.

“Hey, I liked it,” you smile, bumping his knee. “It was nice - shows you care.”

“Well, you ain’t all that hard to please,” Joel smarts, lip quirking up into a sly grin.

Mouth open in a scoff, you feign offence, dragging your laptop from your satchel and making a show of ignoring him.

“How the mighty fall,” he continues, sighing dramatically and tilting his head over the back of the chair. The light coming in through the window hits his face just right, and the grey hairs in his curls shine. “Grateful to have been your professor… asshole.”

“Don’t be precious,” you laugh softly. “You’re just embarrassed because you said you were going to miss us.”

“That was a lie,” Joel tuts, brushing you off with a hand in the air, biting back that grin. “I ain’t gon’ miss any of you assholes. And when those final papers come in—” He taps a finger against the top of your laptop “—I’ll be sayin’ my prayers that any of you can string a worthwhile sentence together.”

“If you’re lucky,” you drawl, batting his hand away. “You’ll teach some of us again next year. And when that semester finishes, you’ll say all of that shit again, because you’re a sap, Joel Miller.”

Joel stares at you for a moment, face softening, and then clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “Smart ass.”

“And you love it,” you quip easily, only balking a moment later when the word hangs awkwardly in the air. Hands pausing on your keyboard, you glance up, neck hot, only to find Joel watching you still. Face suspended in a small smile; eyes light as he nods.

“I do,” he says after a moment. “But you’re on thin ice, wise guy.”

He plucks a book from his desk and spreads it open on his lap, either not noticing or simply not caring as you watch on, slack jawed. I do.

After a moment, Joel taps his foot against yours again. “Write.”

So, sucking in a breath, you do. Time passes and rain starts to drizzle against the window as you write, and Joel reads. Having forgotten to put a record on like normal, he hums lightly under his breath; some tune you can’t place but still nod along to. Every few minutes he turns his page, and the sound sends a shiver down your spine.

You hate the way he holds books. Hate the way he cradles the spines, thumb hooked around the footnotes to hold his page. Hate the way his fingers trace the stanzas as he reads, tender and patient, and always afraid to miss something. Hate most the way the tendons on the backs of his hands flex when he turns the page. How the veins around them go fat and blue the longer he does this, as if all the blood in his body is sprinting towards the words. It’s a dangerous sort of eroticism, watching him read. You hate how much you love it.

In need of reprieve, you focus on your own hands. Crack tired knuckles and stretch out cramps and aches, taking a moment to peer over at his desk. The picture frame you’d once been so curious about is propped on the edge of it once again.

You can see Joel behind the glass panel, sporting a shit-eating grin with Sarah, clad in a graduation gown, tucked proudly against his chest. Taken the day she finished high school, you know now. And you’d never noticed it that first time, months ago, but Ellie’s face rests in the corner of the picture. Pink tongue stuck out and eyes pinched shut; she’d snuck her head into the frame at the last second apparently.

You gaze fondly at it, and feel that familiar warmth in your chest over the fact that he’s put it back out. No more hiding.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” Joel glances over his shoulder, and then smiles.

“It’s a good photo,” you say. “You look so happy there.”

“I was. It’s one of my favourites,” he nods, adjusting his glasses on his nose. He seems to consider you for a moment, eyes flicking around your face, fingers fidgeting with the corner of his page. “Hey, I uh… Sarah actually called yesterday.”

He pauses. Takes an unusually deep breath and folds the book shut.

“Okay.” You blink, confused. “Is she alright?”

“Yeah.” He nods quickly. “Yeah, yeah, she was uh, she was askin’ about the holidays, and if—”

The office door creaks open, and Joel’s mouth seals shut as Rachel walks hastily inside, rushed words filling the small room.

“Joel, sorry, I need to grab—oh.”

There’s an odd pause after the words catch in her throat. A moment of uncomfortable stillness as the three of you inhale all at once, glancing around the room as if seeing it for the first time.

You and Joel aren’t touching, but your knees rest close, one of his feet in the space between yours on the carpet. Laptop propped on your knees, your final essay still lays open with a stream of edits pasted through the margins, cursor blinking at the end of the word nostos.

Joel, tie undone and sleeves rolled up, looks painfully casual in your presence.

“Sorry.” Rachel blinks, hovering awkwardly as the door clicks shut behind her. “I didn’t realise you had a… a meeting today?” The end of her sentence flares up, as if she’s confused, phrasing it like a dubious little question.

You offer a smile in her direction and hope it comes across as relaxed, a little encroaching even; as if you are the one who has interrupted; the one who should not be here.

“It’s fine,” Joel supplies easily, straightening in his chair to give her his full attention. His face gives nothing away. Stoic and calm, the way you’d imagine him to be if you weren’t here at all. “Everything alright?”

“Yes,” she says, frowning like she’s affronted by the question. Looks between the two of you again, listless fingers curling at her sides. “Just came to get that Livy copy back

You look back at your screen and will yourself to type something. To appear casual, studious, as if your heart isn’t lodged in the base of your throat.

“Sure,” he nods, gesturing vaguely toward his desk. “It’s in one of the drawers on the left.”

Rachel nods, walking over to the desk, and as her back turns you spare a glance at Joel. Find him already looking at you, eyebrows pulled down a little. Pink lips mouth It’s fine, married with a soft nod of his head, and for the second time in seconds you attempt a smile.

There’s the sound of wood sliding against wood, and then a soft, tired kind of silence. The lack of sound seems to swell, the air in the room thinning, your eyes focusing on Joel’s fingers on the armrest of his chair, tap tap tap, Rachel’s unruly curls somewhere past that, her face downturned, looking at something. Wary breaths held in unison, synced heart beats racing. It’s fine, it’s fine, no melting.

“Is this some kind of joke?”

Your head snaps up. Joel turns in his chair and begins to ask what’s wrong, but all that ends up coming from him is a sort of choked noise, rough around the edges, and breathless in the middle. Chest on fire, you let yourself look past him to where she stands.

Her gaze is hard as she stares Joel down from across the room. A slip of blue; soft material visible between her fingers, held up for a stunned chorus to see.

Your hearing deafens a little as you look on, motionless, a vague memory of birthday boy and got your cute little panties all soaked thinkin’ ‘bout my cock? playing in your mind. Of a damp patch on his shirt as he tucked blue into his desk drawer.

Joel says Rachel’s name, you think. Can see the way his jaw moves, the way her dark eyes sharpen, flitting back and forth between the two of you. And then, like a volcanic eruption or the swell beneath a wave, realisation crests the hill and It’s fine cracks and crumbles and turns to dust in your grasp. You don’t know what she knows, or how she knows, you just know that she does.

“You… what is this?” Rachel’s face shifts into something uncomfortable. A warped, grotesque shot at a smile. But as her lips curl upward, eyebrows down, it’s nothing but a contorted mess that blurs endlessly between confusion, surprise, and then horror. “This… her? She’s the reason you—”

“Rachel.” Joel’s entire body is wound tight. You can see the edge of his jaw from where you sit; the way his shoulders pull back, tight he watches her.

Your body seems to hold itself together for a moment. Breath caught on an inhale, lungs expanded, eyes frozen on the hard line of his nose, the arm of his glasses—places you feel safe to hover. But then she speaks again, and everything lurches back into focus. Like a needle scratching on a record, or tires squealing as a car pulls to an abrupt stop at a red—the words make you cringe, chest deflating and face crumpling.

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” she’s saying, and her voice raises, louder to match the disbelief in her tone. “You… she’s a fucking student.”

When the fear hits it doesn’t come slowly. It strikes hard and solid; an icy sheet of dread that sucks at your fingers and numbs your extremities. Cool and abrupt, it sinks to your bones and promises that you’ll never again feel anything but this. It laughs in the face of your warm kind month, pressing its chilled ice picks to the back of your eyes until they burn.

Her words hang heavy in the air, thick weights that press down on three sets of shoulders, and you have never wanted anything the way you want to see Joel’s face right now. To look at him and believe that this isn’t as bad as you know it to be. See that mouth tell you it’s fine and remember how it tastes.

Instead, a fear-stricken Orpheus, you will yourself not to look at him. Despite that longing, the way your arms beg to stretch out, to hold and be held, you do not look. No, you don’t think you could suffer the double death of both knowing this is happening and seeing him know it too.

In his place, you let your eyes turn to Rachel, and find that she already stares at you, small mouth cracked ajar in incredulity.

Mind whirring, racing, stumbling; fumbling to pin back together the pieces of who you once were in her eyes and who you are now. This woman you admire so, whose career path you’ve dreamt of, whose wit and quirk has propelled you, invigorated you.

It’s agonising to watch—the way her face morphs into something so unfamiliar as she looks at you now. An expression that once held only admiration, kindness, marred here by an inexplicable sense of pity. Not hate, or contempt, which perhaps would be easier to handle. Easier than the way those dark orbs go round and solemn with worry as they fall upon your anguished frame. It’s a slap in the face; camaraderie washed down the drain like the dregs of a long overdue bath, as she grips your soiled underwear in her fist.

Joel says her name, you’ve lost count of how many times he’s said it now, and she spurns his attempt at placation like a snake. Fast and deadly, venom dribbling from her tongue.

“Someone else?” she says, and her voice is like never before. Mirthless and cold, fury laced through every word. With a sharp jerk of her elbow, she tosses the underwear across the room. They land against Joel’s chest, caught silently in his fist. “You’re fucking sick.”

“This isn’t what you think it is—” Joel starts, and you think you hear his voice shake.

“It isn’t?” She laughs cruelly at that. “You haven’t been sleeping with one of our students?”

The cursor blinks on your screen. Nostos, nostos, nostos, nostos.

“Listen, can we talk about this somewhere else?” he asks. “Not like this, I—”

“Oh, is this not a convenient time for you?” she scowls. “Jesus Christ.”

The urge to speak bubbles in your chest. You don’t even know what you’re going to say until the words are spilling from your lips, disjointed and warbled, a voice that doesn’t even sound like your own.

“I pursued him,” you say.

You can feel them looking at you. Can hear the way you must sound to her, like some kid and not a woman who’s almost thirty years old and just as much to blame. But you can’t stop it.

“We’re both adults. He never made me do anything I didn’t—”

Joel says your name sharply. His fist, in the periphery of your downturned gaze, grips your balled up underwear so tight that the blue is entirely invisible within the thick masts of his fingers.

You suck in a breath, and it feels like the last bit of air in the room disappears into your lungs, so you hold it there. Keep it safe inside and figure that if all three of you were to suffocate then at least the truth, and all the foul consequences that come with it, would die here with you.

“Can you give us a minute?”

Silence falls in the lull after those words, and it takes a moment for you to look up, finally. To realise that the double death wasn’t in looking at Joel, but in understanding that he’d spoken these words to you, not her.

Eyes locked with his, you feel the fear move to your side. Hang low until it ebbs and flows in the space beneath your ribs—a sharp ache with no end in sight. He looks tired; resigned. Mouth thin and downturned, cheeks splashed with red.

You think you must say something. Some fumbling, awkward acknowledgement, because Rachel is giving you that look again and you can’t bear it. Can’t stand those eyes, that misplaced pity.

You collect your things, hands numb as you pile them into your bag and head for the door, skin prickling in defence against the silence that follows your movements.

Outside his office, alone in the long corridor, you know you should go. Should follow the wall down the stairs, out to your car, and not look back. Can you give us a minute? But that sharp ache leaves you cowering against the wall, limbs heavy, ear to his door.

“Rach,” Joel says softly, and it’s so familiar that your stomach rolls, lids fluttering closed. “It isn’t what you think, just let me explain, alright? We met before the term began; before she was my student. Before.”

“And then?”

“What?”

“I said, and then?” Rachel’s voice is steely. “You met her before and, what, you saw her in class and decided it was fine to let it continue? You—”

“Everything was consensual. You know me, I would never—”

“It’s not as simple as that, and you know it. Did you not think about what would happen if you were found out? Her credibility will be destroyed, Joel.”

“I know—”

“I mean for fucksake, her first major presentation was given at a conference where you were the keynote speaker. How do you think this will look?”

“Fuck, I know. Can you keep your voice down, please.”

There’s a brief silence. You hear shuffling, feet against carpet, and a dull spike of fear flares in the back of your mind. The idea of getting caught a second time, eavesdropping from outside the door. Against better judgement, you don’t move, and Rachel speaks again.

“You’re wrong,” she says. “I don’t know you. I… you aren’t the man I thought you were.”

You don’t hear Joel’s response over the drumming in your ears. Hot blood thrashes and roars inside your body, veins pounding with terror. Hands shake damp and weary at your sides, thinking hard, hard, grasping for solution, for the chance to say I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, this is my fault.

But he must have said something because then you hear it. A low fragment of a human voice, words spoken clear as day. They slice through your ears and have you peeling away from the door, swallowed by a white-hot longing to disappear as you stumble down the hall, the stairs, until you’re sucking in cold air on the pavement outside.

It’s raining hard now. Thin spray that comes at you sideways, lashing at your face and blinding you. You curl your back to the downpour and search thoughtlessly for your car, hands outstretched, those words of hers ricocheting off the inside of your skull.

When you find it, you press your key into the door and slump inside, and you still can’t avoid it. She might as well be standing right by the door, peering in at you. Shock in the jut of her brow, disappointment in the slant of her mouth as she whispers those words over and over through the crack in your window.

"I don’t care if you love her, Joel. I have to report you.”

refs:

joni mitchell's 1971 Blue album. [life changer]

the hollow men by t. s. elliot [fat juicy banger of a poem]

orpheus and eurydice from metamorphoses by ovid, tr. by a. d. melville

thank you for reading x

#my writing #fic: a lover's pinch #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut

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hopelessromantic-ghost · 2 years

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i need to be executed at this point 🙈🙈🙈 Venus design based off of zcasmr’s newest video thumbnail, i’m not sure if it’s a picture of some other character but i 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

x | x | x picrews i used

#personal #THAT THIRD PIC GOT ME KICKING MY FEET LIKE 😍😍😍 HES SOOOO HANDSOME!!!!!#I LOVE HIM YOUR HONOR 😭 i swear to god i’m gonna be staring at that pic ALL night at this rate #otp: you are my weakness #picrew

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allurefix · 27 days

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FAN OF A FAN - 3k+

18+ 𝙈𝘿𝙉𝙄 | 𝘱𝘭𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘬 𝘧𝘦𝘮, 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘱, 𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘭 (𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨) , 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘭𝘦𝘸𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘴.

The packed Javits convention center was rumbling with the sounds of noise, but the thumping in Bree's chest was probably louder. Her heartbeat drowned out everything, including the conversation those around her were having while they stood waiting.

Bree didn't do events with large gatherings because it triggered her anxiety. Experiencing Fanatics Fest was especially overwhelming, as she was by herself. Bree was definitely out of her comfort zone, but it was worth it because she'd be meeting her fav wrestler and crush Jey Uso.

Currently she and surrounding fans had been waiting for about an hour, as the Fest was unorganized. The times for photo-ops were either wrong or delayed, leaving everyone confused. Not to mention there were no seating areas, so Brees feet were aching from having to stand.

To lessen her uneasiness, she talked with her friends in a groupchat. Updating them on the situation and how she was feeling, getting support and jokes in return.

Finally after what felt like forever, fans were directed to Jey's line. And with the line moving fast, Bree's heart-rate increased as she neared the Samoan wrestler. The small breaths she inhaled and exhaled weren't helping stabilize her jittery nerves.

She glanced down at her hands, one holding her phone and the other holding a handmade card. Jey loves waffle house, so she included a $25 gift card, along with a heartfelt note. Now what was hidden behind the gift card, was a piece of paper with her number and name. A sneaky yet bold attempt at shooting her shot.

Four girls were in front of Bree, and she could see that the interactions were short, barely any time to make an impact. Hopefully she could make hers in another way.

She was next in line, watching as a fan got a pic before walking off. Then it was her turn, and with a whirlwind of emotions she walked over to him with the cutest smile.

"Hiii, h-happy early birthday" she beamed, handing him the card as he grinned "for me? Thank you baby."

Her brain short-circuited.

Baby?

The way it rolled off his tongue in that deep voice, almost made her collapse. Somehow she maintained her composure, and they shared a side hug before the picture was taken. She inhaled his scent, nearly fainting at the masculine cologne that flooded her nostrils. They pulled away as he said one last thing "I appreciate it."

"You're welcome."

In a flash she was ushered away as she looked back to see him engaging with another fan. She covered her mouth, voice muffled through her hand "what the fuckkk." Taking a deep breath after.

She ended up finding the womens restroom to collect herself, entering the last stall as she then texted her chat. Simultaneously, she ordered a lyft, needing to get back to her apartment and off her feet immediately.

｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

Later on, Jey had gotten nicely settled in his hotel room after an eventful day. Seeing all the love and support from fans made his heart swell. He felt great appreciation for everyone that showed up, let alone gifting bracelets, birthday cards, and waffle house gift cards. One of the cards in particular, contained a phone number belonging to Bree.

His brain racked on which fan that was, as there were so many. Too many faces to try and decipher, or narrow down. So as he lay in bed he decided to just hit up the number and see.

Jey: This Bree?

###-###-####: Yea..who's this?

Jey: It's Jey

Bree: Wait really? srry can u send proof?

Bree: Just making sure

Jey: Gotchu

He recorded a quick vid of him in bed and sent it to her. She couldn't believe her eyes, it was definitely Jey Uso texting her.

Bree: Omgggg

Bree: I didn't think you'd use my number😭😭

Jey: You gave it to me for a reason lol

Jey: Send a pic and refresh my memory

Bree: [pic attached]

"Damn," Jey cursed to himself, instantly recalling that pretty face.

Jey: I remember you. What's yo age?

Bree: 21

Jey: Oh so you just got a babyface lol

Bree: Yeah I get that a lot😩

Jey: You pretty doe

Bree: Aww thanks🥰🥰

Jey: Whachu up to?

Bree: In bed, bored😔

Jey: Me too. You live here?

Bree: Yep! In harlem

Jey: I'm at the Hampton Inn

Jey: You tryna keep me company?

Bree was having a mini meltdown on her bed as she kicked her feet and squealed at the invite.

Bree: Oh? 😳 I'm down!

Jey: Bet. Lemme kno when you here, I'll come down to the lobby.

Oh hell yes she thought, while quickly ordering a lyft to the hotel.

Excited wasn't even the word as she looked over herself in her tall mirror. She was wearing a pink pj lounge set, choosing to cover up with an oversized hoodie. She then slipped her feet into her slides, grabbing her keys and phone before heading out.

｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

Bree couldn't fathom sharing a bed with her fav wrestler, but here she was sitting beside Jey in his hotel room.

Butterflies flooded her stomach as she sat criss-cross, fiddling with fingers while he lay back relaxed. He picked up on her timid demeanor, finding it cute as his lips curved into a grin.

"Oh you shy huh? Demure."

She busted out laughing, flipping her hair over her shoulder "not demureee.... but i'm really just nervous that's all. Like I was freaking out to my friends earlier after meeting you and now..." she trailed off, still in disbelief.

"Well I never been in my hotel room wit a fan, so this crazy for me too" he joked, easing the awkwardness. She giggled as he grabbed her arm, making her slightly jump as she looked at him.

"Lay down."

He didn't have to tell her twice, lying back as her head met the pillow.

"You not hot in that?" Jey nodded at her hoodie.

She was definitely burning up under the thick fabric, but still made an excuse "I have on pjs under..."

Jeys brow raised as he joked "what they ugly?"

She stifled a laugh, covering her hand "no."

He sucked his teeth, teasing her "you kno you hot as hell right now."

She bit her plump lip, nodding in confirmation as she sat up and stood to her feet. Heart pounding through her chest as she pulled the large hoodie up and over her body. She could hear Jey grunt "damn" as he saw her backside, cheeks peaking out her shorts that rode high.

After putting her hoodie in a chair by the window, she went back over to the bed as he shamelessly gazed at her big boobs in that top.

His eyes weren't discreet, flushing her face warm as she got on the bed and laid on her side.

"What? she quietly whined under his burning stare, big dilated orbs that pierced her soul. It was intimidating to be looked at like his next meal, even if she wanted to be.

"You kno you bad right?"

There was that depth again, making her thighs subconsciously press together as her kitty throbbed. But his attempt at complimenting her only produced a somber response.

"I been picked on about my weight tho" she mumbled, as his brows knitted.

Bree was full figured- thick all over with a pudgy stomach. Nothing to feel ashamed for.

"Fuck em, man or woman. Don't let nobody make you feel insecure. Be confident in yo self cause you damn sho bad" he reiterated strongly. His advice and encouraging words resonated in her soul as they shared eye contact. She gave a closed smile "thank you."

"You welcome." He then reached over and grasped her chin, inching their lips closer until they smashed together. Her eyes closed as they shared a sensual kiss, lips slowly grooving in harmony.

"Mmph" she moaned into his mouth as it parted to stick his tongue in hers.

As the kiss intensified with wet smacks and lament, Jey pulled away making her whine.

"Strip" he commanded, voice drenched in lust as he sat up and removed his white tee. She quickly followed, pulling off her long-sleeve top that was discarded on the floor. Next she unhooked her bra and let her big breasts spring free, making Jeys eyes pop.

"Damn" he grunted, moving atop her and meeting her lips once more. The kiss was more sloppy as he hooked her legs around his waist, grinding his hips into her clothed center. Her arms wrapped around his neck as he kissed along her neck.

"This whachu wanted huh? some of this dick? That's why you gave me yo number?"

"Y-yea" she admitted faintly.

"Can I eat that pussy first?" he asked while looking into her eyes. Her chest heaved with every languid breath, and she nodded. Before she knew it, her nipple was being vacuumed between his lips. She moaned as his large firm hands groped her massive flesh, his tongue licking around her boob with a insatiable hunger.

Her big orbs tried to stay focused on him loving on each breast, but the sensations forced her lids to flutter. It's like he was trying to clean a plate empty.

Her panties were definitely soaked, she couldn't have but leak.

She cradled the back of his head as his kisses traveled lower, and lower. His hands tugged her shorts down her legs, taking them off with a toss in the air. Her wet spot was visible as his lips formed a snarl.

"Gotchu wet already?" his tongue darted across his lips sexily, and her pink lace panties were swiftly snatched down. Once they were off, Jeys mouth watered at the sight of her fat pussy. Her juices gleamed off her puffy folds, and her clit was slightly larger.

"Shit" he cursed under his breath, licking his lips again as he pushed her knees up, making her legs bend. Bree gulped as his face was level with her heat. His fingers parted her slimy folds, seeing her wet hole clench around nothing as it dripped essence. His tongue licked a stripe up as she gasped at the introduction to his oral.

"Oh fuck!"

"I gotchu baby" he spoke against her flesh, slurping her up before french kissing her pussy.

a soft moan escaped Brees lips, as her eyes floated upward.

This was really happening, reality had long set in as Jey ate away at her sopping cunt. It wasn't some erotic dream, she was finally getting what she desired in her freaky mind.

"Oh!" her mouth dropped open as he sucked on her clit, tongue flickering against her sensitive bud. She sucked in a needy breath as he repeated the combo.

"Ahh fuck!" she gripped her titties as her back arched off the bed. "Mmm."

She sounded so angelic to him, a soft and delicate sound padding his ears as his wet smacks and slurps overtook them. He couldn't help but groan too as he enjoyed his full course meal.

He released her slick folds with a pop "mmph, this pussy good baby" diving back in with haste as she whimpered.

Her lips remained parted as her hazy eyes glazed at him going to work. Shuddered breaths escaped her plump, glossed, lips. Edging that had Jey pre-cumming in his shorts. Damn he wanted to eat her for hours, but he craved that deeper connection. She'd already came in his mouth as he cleaned her mostly dry, leaving some natural lubricant for his dick.

He lifted up and maneuvered his shorts off as he dick sprung free. Now spit pooled in her mouth at the sight of his meat, thick, long, and slightly curved.

The sight before her was godly. Jey was truly the finest man on earth, gifted too just like she hoped.

But that was going into her?

He caught a look of fear from her and chuckled, pushing her legs back as he gripped her thighs. His devilish smile exposed his bottom grill, canines that glistened under the light.

Fuck he was so fine.

"Thank you baby" he bent down, planting a kiss as she mumbled "wait you heard that?"

"Bree stop playin wit me, Im bout to be in yo shit, talk as nasty as you want."

She bit her lip at his tone, looking into his eyes as he then lined his head up with her slit before sliding in. His eyes briefly shut as he glided into her constricting walls "ugh fuck" he groaned.

"Damn this shit tight" he lamented as he eventually reached balls deep, his head nudging her g spot as she whined in response.

He placed their foreheads together as she caressed his broad shoulders "talk to me" kissing her "how you want it?"

She found the courage to say "h-hard."

Jeys lips tightened as he had the green light to beat her walls loose. Glad he wouldn't have to hold back, only problem was the walls were thin. He had to give her a warning before he went crazy, not knowing if she was a screamer or not. She looked like it to him.

"You gotta keep it down aiight?" he held his index finger to her lips as she nodded.

His hips lifted as he dragged his length out enough before slamming it back in and earning a yelp from Bree. He clamped a hand over her mouth, eyeing her as he repeated his actions again and again. Practically pounding her poor cunt with as much brute force as he could muster.

It hadn't even registered that he wasn't using a condom, but it felt so much better.

"Tight ass pussy, who else been in it huh? This shit mine now" he spat as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Removing his hand he threw caution to the wind and let her moan loudly. They'd definitely get a noice complaint, but fuck it. The whole floor would hear his name.

"Uhn! Uhn!"

"Daddy deep in that shit?"

"Y-yea daddy!" she mewled with her eyes clamped shut.

"Look at me when im in my pussy" he demanded, she opened her lids and her heart swelled in her chest as they shared intense eye contact. He was starring into her soul where his dick probably was with each thrust. The feeling of pure ecstasy engulfed Bree in strong tidal waves, drowning her in lust.

Jey gave every stroke his all as he aggressively rutted his hips inward. His determination to break her in evident in his expression, bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

"Mmm-ahh-Jey!" her pouty lips produced a cry as a pit in her stomach formed.

"You bout to cum huh? I feel it...that pussy trappin me" he talked between heavy breaths as he observed her love faces.

As her soaked walls contracted around his dick, he expelled a rough groan in response. The pressure was building up in him too, as the veins along his length pulsated amongst the haste friction. She hadn't reached her climax yet, but he needed to pull out unless she wanted to pop a plan B in the morning.

"Hugh shit!- I gotta-" on the verge of nutting, he ripped his dick out before a drop could leak. Bree whined in response as Jeys hand speedily cranked his flesh. His mouth fell open as guttural sounds escaped his throat. Droplets of his white creamy seed spurted out onto her belly as he emptied himself. With a sigh of relief, his motions stopped as he hovered over her.

"My bad, ain let you cum" he apologized before kissing her, "come ride me tho" swiftly moving off her and onto his back for round 2.

Bree blinked a few times, oh lord she thought, glancing at him waiting.

He read her expression, hesitant and reluctant- providing a deep guarantee before she could speak. "Baby I'mma grown ass man, ain no weight limit I gotchu. Now come ride this dick" his fingers curled in motion.

Her pussy jumped at the infliction in his command, and she needed no more convincing. She sat up and crawled over, slinging one leg on either side on him as she hovered over his hardened dick. Her fingers grasped the tip as she lined it up with her opening. And as her body sunk, his dick slipped between her slit and into her walls eliciting a moan. In this position, she had no choice but to take all 8 inches of him until she reached the base.

She gasped at him filling her up, thick stuffing her tiny hole and expanding her walls. "Oh god" flipping her hair behind her shoulder, as her hands planted on his chest to brace.

"Bounce on that dick baby, get yo nut" Jey encouraged deeply as he watched her under brim eyes. A lustful slip of the tongue across his lips at the buss-worthy visual of her huge breasts, effortlessly jiggling. Big brown jugs, with large dark areolas and perky nipples of arousal. Practically a mouth-watering sight, saliva pooling, being slid down his throat with every gulp.

She took her time getting adjusted to his size, tediously rocking her hips back and forth. Jey was in no rush, enjoying the view with his hands underneath his head.

And damn was it a view.

She slightly leaned forward, an arch forming in her back as she began to bounce on his dick, ass being thrown in a circle. Pussy gliding up and down his pole, creating a stimulating friction.

"Uhn!...uuuhn!"

"Get that shit baby" he grunted, marveling at her boobs bouncing too. He couldn't help but seize them in his massive hands, fingers groping the flesh and toying with her nipple while she continuously moaned.

This encouraged her to ride harder, as she repeatedly lifted all the way to his tip, only to drop down. Her volume drastically increasing each time as Jey groaned under her.

"Keep doin that shit mama."

She feverishly rolled her hips, grabbing his wrists as she resumed her bouncing. Losing her mind on that dick.

"Like that daddy?"

"Just like that baby...fuck you ridin that dick so good" his brows furrowed, as his teeth pierced his bottom lip. Bending his legs some, he pulled her down against his chest as their lips collided in a sloppy kiss. His hands finally got a firm grip on her ass cheeks, as much of her mounds as his palms could hold. He guided her up and down his dick as he thrusted, with hips bucking up from the bed. He grouped her flesh in circles, delivering a couple sharp smacks to her ass that had her whining.

"All that ass baby" admiration laced in his tone, truly in awe at how stacked she was. It didn't make no sense.

Bree's head dropped into his neck as she whimpered, letting him take over with rough strokes that had her dizzy. His arms snaked around her waist, as he raised his knees even more, acquiring the perfect angle. He began to fuck her at a speedy pace, dick drumming though her walls so fast her breath got caught in her throat.

She squealed as his tip kept hitting her gspot with precision, running wasn't an option as his muscular arms entrapped her. And his rugged course drawls of immense pleasure filled her ears as she pleaded for mercy. Knots and coils from within threatening to unravel, she was so close, needing to cum hard.

"Cum on this dick baby, hurry up fo' I put one in you" he found himself begging desperately as he twitched inside her again.

"Okayy okayy" she cried before releasing all over him, her creamy essence coating his dick as he steadily pumped. The substance stringing along their skin as it separated, gooey-like.

It's like Jey didn't have control of his own body as he continued thrusting her in half, he was about to throw caution to the wind and nut inside her. That's how good the pussy was.

But somehow, he gathered enough self restraint at the last second, lifting her off his dick as his cum spurted out the head like a volcano.

With a hand stroking a mile a min, he emptied the rest of his nut, dripping onto his fingers.

"Gah damn" he panted, coming to a halt and releasing his dick as her ass lowered once more.

Only thing that could be heard for a couple minutes were shared breaths of exasperation. Their chests heaved in sync, indicative of the intense session.

Jey spoke up first "baby?" turning his head to see her eyes closed as she started to snooze off. His clean hand patted her butt as she whined and squirmed.

He chuckled into her ear "we gotta clean up, c'mon." Tapping her again as she finally lifted off him, with a mug that mad him snort.

"Aye quit muggin and go pee."

She did as told, scooting off the bed and limping to the bathroom. Jey shook his head at her ass swaying with every step. He then got off the bed and followed behind her.

After she did her business and washed her hands, he followed suit. They went back into the room, taking opposite sides of the bed as they slipped underneath the covers. Her back was facing him as she succumb to slumber. Jey smiled before reaching over to turn off the nightstand lamp. As darkness engulfed the space, he got comfortable on his back before falling asleep as well.

#jey uso imagine #jey uso fic #jey uso smut #x black oc #x black plus size reader #black writer

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reignsan · 1 year

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FGO JP's current event is about taking feet pics for Baobhan to rate

I am not making this up:

#fate grand order #baobhan sith

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jjoongstar · 1 month

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𝑨 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒎 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕

⚜pairing: statue!yeosang x gn!reader

⚜genre: fluff

⚜rating: sfw

⚜warnings: none, just kissing

⚜wc: 888

⚜a/n: i was inspired by a pic sent by @acupoftaewithsomesuga on discord, yeosang looks so gorgeous. so yea, that's how this was produced. feedbacks are much appreciated! (tags are at the end)

you snuck into the art museum by the back door. your steps were quieter than the footsteps of a mouse that night. you glance over your watch to check the current time. 11.48 pm. its almost time!

you continued your steps upstairs towards the one and only exhibition hall. the whole area was empty. decorated by plain dull walls as its main focus was on the art piece at the center of it.

a large statue, carved by a talented artist. it sits on a stone that was also created by the artist, into what seems like a throne to the statue. its face was well made, accentuating its sharp nose, high cheekbones, and beautiful lips. his body structure was magnificent. broad shoulders with fine built chest. the collarbones of a glorious hero. arms and hands full of grace such as a goddess.

but what's most of the reason how you ended up sitting on the cold marble tile floor with your legs pulled up to your chest, eyes gawking up to the piece, is his captivating eyes. a deep set with almond shape. colours of a rich and dark hue that adds the depth of his intrigued gaze.

"oh, hello there little one," your smile widens, showing off your front teeth when your adoration was interrupted by the statue himself.

every night past midnight, all the art piece in the art museum will come to life up till before dawn. it was a little secret only you knew as it was a secret magic by the artist too.

"hello mr. kang yeosang, the majestic guardian of eden," you read the name of the piece that was place on a slate on the foot of the statue, in a giddy way.

"please stop calling me that dear, we've met multiple times already, come up here," the statue chuckles as he reach out his hand to you.

you got up and took his hand, it felt so cold to your touch. he pulls you up to sit on his lap and you made yourself comfortable there. you lean your body to rest on his chest and giggles when his arm wraps around your smaller figure, securing you better in his embrace.

"yeosang," you mutter as you trace your fingers all over his place and your thumb lingers longer at his birthmark under his eye. it was your favourite feature of him. a flaw that made him look more striking to the eyes of humans.

"my little human," he place his other hand on the side of your neck and you shudder at the cold touch of his fingers.

"my gorgeous sculpture," he replied back to your compliment by placing his lips on yours.

you wrap you hands around his neck and chase his lips back. for a statue, his lips were rather smooth and cold, but it also felt soft and sweet to your mouth. you pulled back first as you shudder again when he trace his cold fingers to your exposed thighs.

he loves your little reaction of his touch. he bits your lower lip, wanting your attention back to his lips. you happily obliged to his request and kiss him back.

you push his chest away after a while for you to catch a breath. you're slightly panting but when you look at him, he just smiles at you. must be fun not having lungs and the need of air to breathe.

"wanna go for a walk?" he agreed to your request and pecks your lips once.

he gently place you back on your feet on the floor before he got up from his seat. you wrap your hands around his thick forefinger and drag him out of the hall.

you walk around together and explore every areas together. giggling, laughing and waving back to paintings, who loves to see you two together. you both enjoyed each other's presence the whole time.

he'd even played hide and seek by trying to blend in with the other statues, and they tried so hard to make yeosang look like one of them.

"i found you yeo!"

"how did you find me so fast," he whines with a pout on his face at you.

"you're just too striking sangie. even if you place yourself in a hall with a thousand statues, i will always find you," he gets so shy with your words and he blushes so hard. you pulled him down closer to you and kisses his cheek.

after a while, it was time he needed to get back on his podium. he gives you a final tight hug, just enough for you to feel his love for you. though with his strength and build, he might crush you. he plants a last kiss on the crown of your head before he head back to his throne.

"tonight was amazing, i enjoyed it really well with you, thank you," you said you final words before he smiles back at you and went back to his initial pose.

you glance out the windows and the sky would turn brighter soon, it was your cue to leave. you turn back your heels and look for the exit.

"i love you." the tall mighty statue mutters quietly under his breath upon seeing your back facing at him when you were bout to leave him for the day.

dividers

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evolnoomym · 20 days

Text

Secrets and Lies 🌜

Gilf!Joel Miller, Dilf!Jack Miller x f!reader

Pt.1🌛 | Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: The filthy Adventures continue, but now Jack joins the fun. Together they make your dream of taking them at the same time come true. But what about James?

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!

Word count: 4.5k

Authors note: Finally we got the long awaited Part 2. I hope y’all enjoy cuz I put a lot of energy into this and yes it’s filthy so don’t look at me. 👀🤭

Warnings: no y/n, female reader, Moon is not a name necessarily but more a nickname, age-gap, controversial age gap, cheating, infidelity, unethical I guess, Joel doesn’t need blue pills, 2 other male OC’s, Joel=Grandpa Jack=Son James=Grandson, Moon has tits and a vagina, hair pulling, male receiving oral, female receiving oral, use of a butt plug, ass eating, fingering, deep throating, cream pie’s, fluff in between, nipple licking & biting, anal and vaginal penetration, dp, sucking+biting, Moon bites too, dildo use, lotsssssss of lube, ambiguous ending,

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Shoutout to @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics for the dividers and big thank you to @joelmillerisapunk & @jennaispunk for beta reading. <3

Credit for the Gilf!Joel Pic in the Moodboard goes to @iamasaddie 😈

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. 😅🫶🏻

🌜Songs that are the vibe🌛:

Crush - Ethel Cain

Love Is a Bitch - Two Feet

Guys My Age - Hey Violet

You Don’t Own Me - SAYGRACE, G-Eazy

Moth To A Flame - The Weeknd

BITCH - Allie X

Oh Child - The LION

Let Me Love You - Mario

I’m Yours - Isabel LaRosa

Love Game - Lady Gaga

BABYDOLL - Ari Abdul

Les - Childish Gambino

After Jack had walked in on you and Joel, not a whole lot changed. In fact it seemed to only have gotten better for you. Who in their right mind would say no to two absolute hunks. Admittedly Joel had caught your eye first, but it was not undeniable that Jack was just as hot. Both are older men, mature, dominating and they know exactly how to treat a woman right. That dumbass of a boyfriend could never compare. James didn’t care about you, he was only focused on his own pleasure, but you know how pathetically he likes to brag about what a wonderful boyfriend he is. Perhaps you are not entitled to complain, you had cheated first, you are not good either but it’s worth it.

Every weekend the Millers have a family dinner, which of course being James girlfriend, you also get to attend those functions.

You are out on the back porch that oversees Joel’s beautiful lush garden, standing right by the railing, sipping on the aperol spritz that Jack had prepared for you. While the bitter sweet liquid easily goes down your throat, you watch James sit on a lounger by the pool, animatedly talking into his phone. Always busy talking to his bro’s.

As you frown into your drink you hear the glass doors slide open behind you. Picking up on their gruff, deep yet calming tone makes you immediately care less about the disappointment of another evening practically being ignored by your boyfriend.

Your frown turns into a smirk when they each come to a stop beside you and you can feel their eyes on the sides of your face.

They are equally accessing you, while you silently continue to sip on your beverage.

It’s funny, you are convinced that even if James would pay attention. Really look at you, he wouldn’t realize how not only his Father but also his Grandfather are undressing his Girlfriend with their eyes.

He is that dumb.

Joel is the one to break the peaceful quiet atmosphere. “Talkin’ to his goddamn buddies again, isn’t he?” A shiver runs up your spine from hearing his deep baritone so clear and close.

You scoff “Isn’t that what always happens, what did we expect, huh?”

Closing your eyes momentarily, you inhale deeply before continuing “But it’s not like I don’t have way better company, right?” You turn to Joel and then to Jack giving them both the smile they love seeing on your face.

“S’ right baby, you are in good hands.” Jack muses.

You look ahead smugly giggling.

“Why don’t you prove it?” It’s a challenge, would they dare to touch you when James is not far away. The flowy short skirt you decided to wear gave them the perfect opportunity and sure enough it didn’t take much longer before you felt two big warm hands slowly sliding down your back.

The sensation made your breath hitch and your mouth went dry, making you throw back the last bit of Aperol Spritz. Those big wandering hands made you feel incredibly flustered, you are pretty sure you must look like a tomato, all flushed. You could easily blame it on the unrelenting heat or the alcohol coursing through your body.

Both hands slipped past your skirt's hem, gently touching the back of your thighs and when they slide back up pulling the hem with them. One hand carefully stuffed the hem into the waistband of the skirt to secure it and you looked down at yourself to make sure the front looked unaffected.

Their hands are groping and kneading your ass cheeks so deliciously, it’s impossible to not get wet from their ministrations. Of course they can tell you struggle to keep your arousal concealed, your clenched thighs, elevated breathing, tense jaw and iron grip on the railing are already enough indication.

Either they had this situation all planned out or they are just truly that good at silently communicating. Without a saying a word, one hand move to pull your thong aside, while the other one sweeps through your moist folds, collecting a decent amount before pulling away.

Said hand which you now figure out belongs to Jack is held right in front of your face. You can smell the sweet-salty musk of your own juices on his fingers.

“Look at that baby, she’s messy, drooling all for us, ain’t she?” Your head turns to Jack, you are met with a questioning head tilt and a big smirk adorning his face. Whenever you look at them you ask yourself how you got so lucky. Jack, just like his Father, is insanely stunning. Fluffy dark brown hair, blue-grey eyes, a strong painted nose, his 3-day beard and those lips you loved feeling on your own.

It’s obvious that they enjoy playing with you.

“Go ahead Moon Love, say it, who does that little cunt belong to, huh?” He nods at you encouragingly.

“S.s..she he belongs to you” you nod stammering through the everlasting throbbing of your core.

“ ‘s a good girl, god job darlin’” Joel’s voice has your head whipping around to him. You can’t help yourself from smiling at his handsome face. Even though he’s 60 years old, you can’t deny how incredible attractive he is. His grey-white slicked back hair, the slight wrinkles around his eyes from smiling and that goddamn mustache have you wake in the knees. He’s a masterpiece.

You feel light headed, like floating, all from being sandwiched between them.

The three of you are swiftly pulled from the cloud y’all had been on by the sound of someone approaching.

Joel quickly slides your thong and skirt back in place, while Jack sucks on his fingers that had just been between your thighs. The obscene slurping noises made it hard to focus on James that suddenly decided he wanted to be part of the conversation.

You meet him halfway up the porch and he immediately slides his arms around your waist, pulling you close to his chest.

“What are we talking about,hm? Did Moon talk y’all’s ears off too about her new plant. Had that on the ride here.” He scoffs but tries to make it appear jokingly, when everyone already knows he is just being a condescending asshole for no reason.

“Nah was all us borin’ the pretty thing with our baseball nonsense, wasn’t it Jack?” Your heart soars at the way Joel perhaps not super subtly comforts you. He despises his Grandson for being such an inconsiderate boy.

When James acts like this, you feel less and less bad about what happens in secret and all the lies you tell him.

Whenever you leave for Joel’s residence you tell your boyfriend you just want to catch up with your old friends and like the idiot that James is, he assumes you’re going to Sammy’s. You met her when you went to school to become a Kindergarten Teacher, she lives a couple hours away, that fact leaves you with enough time to spend playing with your two favorite Men in the world.

Every week, usually once, sometimes twice when the desperate need to feel their hands on your body takes over you meet up with them. In the beginning Jack was not allowed to participate, no, he could only watch from his seat how his Father defiled that sweet young girl. As much as Joel wanted to share, he struggled letting someone else have a piece of the cake, you were his precious Angel after all.

It felt so good when Joel let him eat you out for the first time and judging the iron grip Jack had on your hips, he seemed to be very excited as well. Unrelentingly lapping at your core until you came on his tongue screaming his name.

The frustrating part was that they never worked on you at the same time, which something you wanted so badly, so Joel offered to get you there.

That’s how you ended up bent over, with your knees planted on his Lazy-Boy, you were facing away from him leaning on the headrest.

“Moon Love, i know ya want to get these slutty holes filled,” he said while dragging his pointer finger down your drooling pussy and circling your puckered asshole “But I gotta prep ya for that first, can’t jus’ take the both of us without any training,hm?”

You know he’s right, they would probably hurt you if the preparation gets skipped, besides who said that couldn’t also bring you pleasure.

“Yes, I’m sorry, you are right Daddy. How will you do it?” You look over your shoulder back at him kneeling between your spread thighs, you really want to know what he had planned.

“Atta girl,” as he rose to his full height he clasped both cheeks roughly giving them a generous squeeze and pulling them apart to get another clear look at your tight hole.

“Jus’ wait a second baby, I’ve got somethin’ for ya,” with that he lets go of you.

The air shifted and you felt another pair of calloused warm hands on your plush behind, just barely grazing you in passing. After rounding you, Jack came to a halt before you and even when kneeling on the Lazy-Boy the crown of your head barely reached his chin.

“What do you think he will do to me?”

You are nervously chewing on your bottom lip and Jack reaches up with two fingers to pull it free. With the same two fingers he cradled your chin and tips your head up. “Don’t worry darling, whatever the old man has planned for you will be enjoyable. Ya know he got that experience he always brags about.” He winks at you before softly placing a kiss on your lips. It might’ve been just a quick peck but you immediately feel put at ease.

As you hear Joel come back down the stairs, Jack leans in to whisper in your ear “I’ll stay right here keep an eye on you Moon Love, hm?” When he pulls away he slightly nudges your head, his cheeky attitude makes you giggle. That’s the sound he loves so much that sweet, soft and melodic laughter fills his heart with pride.

You mouth a silent Thank you up at him.

“Ya two lovebirds havin’ fun without me, huh?” You turn your head back to Joel as he’s sitting down on the stool placed behind you. Yeah you definitely know where Jack gets his cheekiness from.

You give him your best cheeky smile “Nuh uh, we would neverrrr do that Daddy,” as you start persuasively rocking your hips from side to side.

“Tsk,tsk what a naughty little tease we’ve caught ourselves here,” you enjoyed when they almost behaved as if you weren’t right there, bend over between them.

“Anyway, I got a lil gift for our sweet girl,” Joel reached behind himself picking up a small rectangular black box and a bottle of…lube? You start frowning “Why do we need lube?”

“Cuz that sweet ass won’t get wet like your pussy baby, we will need lots of lube to make sure you have a good time.” He nods reassuring and hands you the little black box “Go on open it, show Jack what’s in the box,”

So you turn around holding it up to Jack and shake it to see if there’s any indication through sound but nothing happens.

“Okay, come on baby stop playing around and open it I’m curious,”

You slowly lift the lid off and all you see is what looks like a half-moon shaped topaz diamond surrounded by some black foam.

“A diamond?” You are quite confused, both had gotten you gifts before but this seems different.

Joel laughs darkly while gripping your hips “Ain’t for ya finger Angel,” one of his big hands is placed on your spine urging you to arch your back more. Before you can even think about it any longer you feel something wet and warm flickering over your puckered hole. Joel’s tongue. His beard scratches your cheeks so nicely.

“Fuckkkk, th..that feels so good,ughh” you are unable to hold the moans back.

He alternates between using the flat of his tongue on your neglected core and the pointy end on your asshole trying to wiggle his way in.

“Yes, yes Godddd Daddy, don’t stop,”

The shock of the sudden unknown stimulation has you forgetting all about the black box, but luckily Jack is right there. You don’t even register that he has taken the diamond out of its foam casing, until something cold and smooth touches your cheek. When you look up at him he’s holding onto the moon diamond but now you can see that it’s a lot more than just that.

“Wh..what is that?” You struggle to formulate straight sentences with Joel treating your cunt but mainly your asshole like a 4 star dinner.

It looks like an oval shaped metal egg is attached to the diamond, you’ve never seen anything similar before. Jack chuckles at your surprised face “ ‘s a butt plug, sweetheart, used to stretch little holes like yours.” He starts tracing over your lips with the oval shaped ending “open up baby.” Jacks dirty words combined with Joel’s tongue have your thighs quivering, hands clawing at the top of the headrest, breath coming out in short huffs. You are close to unraveling and Joel can feel it by the way your holes are furiously clenching around his tongue.

You do without further notice, dropping your jaw, rolling your tongue out and letting Jack places the cold metal into your warm waiting mouth. You wrap your lips around the toy, sucking and swirling your tongue all around.

“Yeah, atta girl suck on it before we’ll plug up your little ass” he strokes the hair out of your face and pats your cheek affectionately, glancing down at you with an adoration that is strictly reserved for you.

Yes the three of you are doing something forbidden, something that should feel bad, but its more than just mindless sex, more than a impulsive decision. You love Joel and Jack, you’ve reached a point where you can admit to have fallen not only for your boyfriend’s Dad, but also his Grandfather. Sometimes you wish to never have met James, as his part in this situation is more than inconvenient but it was necessary.

You gasp loudly around the metal in your mouth when you sense Joel’s tongue being replaced by one of his thick digits.

“Hm baby, that ass of yours ‘s the best I ever tasted, a goddamn delicacy,” while he slides the tip of his pointer finger through your slit, collecting your wetness and spreading it all over your asshole. “Look at how wet ya got sweet girl, all from that ass played with,huh?”

You reach a hand up to Jacks holding on to the plug, urging him to pull it out and once he dies you turn your head back to Joel.

He feels like the luckiest man alive when you gaze at his weathered face with your fucked out expression and gorgeous smile.

He grabs the lube bottle and tilts his head up at you “want me to put a finger in that tight hole, stretch it out more, before I push that plug in and send ya home to him.”

Before you even have the chance to respond, Joel has already squeezed a generous amount of lube onto your hole. You jump slightly at the cool gel texture that collides with your hot core. “Okay sweetheart, last chance, ya want that finger in your ass, yes or no?” Only now does it occur to you that he actually wants audible consent for what he’s about to do to you. It reminds you how precious this bond is, James, in comparison, rarely cared enough to ask you. He just took what he wanted.

As you continue to trace Joel’s face with your eyes, you reach a hand behind yourself to cup his scruffy cheek “Yes Daddy, I’d love for you to fuck my ass with your fingers, before you plug me up and send me back to him.”

On the ride back to the flat you share with James, you reminisce about how the evening continued to unfold. Joel didn’t just fuck your ass with one finger, no, in the end he stretched you till three of his meaty digits fit.

That alongside his eager mouth sucking on your pulsing clit and Jack whispering sweet filth in your ear, had you coming in no time.

When you started to come down from reaching that high, Joel slowly with more lube added pushed the plug into your winking hole. The previous penetration made it incredibly easy and rather pleasant than uncomfortable.

Before Joel called you an Uber, he gave you intensive instructions on how to use the plug the next few days to help make the goal of taking their cocks at the same time somewhat easier.

Of course to prove that you are a good girl for them, you did just as instructed. Spending every free minute bent over in front of the bedroom mirror alternating between using the toy or your fingers.

Now almost a week later you are currently getting ready in the bathroom for the weekly Miller Dinner, putting the finishing touches to your make up and adjusting your hair. The dress you want to wear already laid out, all that’s left to do is insert the plug and off you go.

James is so obvious he doesn’t question at all why you would be so excited for the routinely Dinner, practically buzzing in your seat, giddily singing to the music blaring through the speakers with a big smile plastered across your face. In your dream you’d like to sandwiched between them 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, all the time. You miss them the second you leave Joel’s house, only in their company you feel so light and free.

You almost run towards the massive entrance door after James had parked his car but stop yourself at the last moment, instead waiting patiently for your boyfriend to put his hand on your lower back and push you towards the house. When the door opens it’s as if all the stress from the outside world falls away, a big weight lifted off your chest.

Again, if James would be more observant he’d notice that the way his Father and Grandfather hug you is longer than appropriate. How their hands glide down your back to squeeze your ass, noses buried in your neck to get a good waft of that sweet bourbon vanilla perfume Jack had bought for you. Speaking of Jack he has the cheekiness to not simply grope your butt, no, he decides to feel for the plug and give it a push. All while James is right there busy taking off his shoes.

As usual, when you sit down to eat at the huge maghony dinner table, it doesn’t take 5 minutes before James pulls out his phone to text god knows who. His blatant disrespect used to upset you but his extra distraction now is more than useful now. While he’s talking without a pause about the great weekend he’ll have with his buddies just a couple hours away from Austin on a camping trip. You have already begun to tune him out as you discreetly slide your spandex covered foot up Joel’s shin, all the way up over his thigh until you gently tap at his crotch his bulge more than apparent.

James nagging voice addressing you directly pulls you from the cloud you had just been floating on “Babe you gonna be okay without me?” As if you hadn’t survived many nights without him. “Of course baby, I’ll pay a visit to some old friends.” You respond while winking at Joel and Jack, yes the weekend surely will be fun.

The first 2 days were spent like all the countless previous weekly hook-up meetings, they lapped at your pussy and ass, eating you for hours till you screamed from overstimulation. You of course got a mouth full of cock whenever you wanted, happily gagging on them. They alternated between fucking you, either Joel was pounding you while Jack watched or the other way around. If they got lucky you offered your pretty mouth for the one watching.

And the current position on Joel’s massive bed isn’t any less enticing, you are propped up on all fours. Joel’s hips flush with yours, one hand tightly gripping your hip while the other holds the clear silicone dildo he slowly inserted at the beginning of the night into your tight ring. Jack is occupying your mouth with his thick length, holding your face in his big hands, persistently hitting the back of your throat, in a rhythm that matches the one Joel uses to push against your G-Spot.

The room smells like sex, sweaty, stuffy and all that can be heard is slapping of skin mixed with the wet noises all three of your used holes make. Accompanied by the deep husky moans of both Jack and Joel. When Joel feels your walls tighten around him, the decision is quickly made to momentarily end the fun. Some silent communication must happen, because Jack suddenly shifts his hips back causing his cock to slip out of your mouth.

“You did so good for us Angel,” he leans down and presses his lips against yours briefly, a welcome distraction as Joel pulls the silicone toy from your ass.

Jack releases your lips “Okay baby, let’s get you in position, hm?” Yes you’ve talked about it, so Joel also shifts away leaving you with an empty feeling in your abdomen. He lays down on his back and you crawl on top of him, lifting up slightly as Joel lines himself up with your entrance. Jack settles up behind you grabbing your hips to help you slide down, “how’s it feel Moon?”

You lean back, resting your head on his shoulder, biting your lip while your own hands

“F..Fee.. Feels sooo good,” you bend forward planting your palms on Joel’s shoulders “, butttt there’s something missing.” all while arching your back as much as you can without risking that Joel’s cock slides out of your core.

“Ah, I know what you need babygirl,” Jack grabs the bottle of lube from the nightstand and starts to squeeze a decent amount out onto his fingers, which then wrap around his length. The slick noise makes a shiver run through your body.

“Relax baby, keep breathing, okay?” His warm moist tip starts to push into your puckered hole, it is so different to the fingers or the dildo, a warm rigid shaft parting your walls. Everything overwhelms your senses, so you seek out Joel’s comfort, nuzzling furter into his neck and instinctively biting him. Not hard enough to draw blood but definitely enough to make him gasp.

“Moon Love, ‘s okay, ya takin’ it so good.” He soothingly rubs your arms with his thumb, drawing tiny circles.

With little to no time you get used to their rhythmic push and pull. Your moans have gotten so loud that surely the whole neighborhood is getting an earful. Even through the hazy arousal clouding your mind it’s not lost on you that Jack is enjoying the tight channel of your butt, it makes him feral. He reaches for your hair carelessly gathering it into a ponytail and pulling you up, it doesn’t hurt, no, the tingling of your scalp turns you on further. That increases when Joel’s lips wrap around your hard nipple and starts biting it.

“U..uh..ughh, soo goo-“ Jack cuts you off

“Yeah feels good having his mouth on those sugar tits,” you only manage a pathetic nod.

Jack let’s go off your hair and Joel stops the assault on your nipple. As you lean back down you give him your best smile, stopping at his pursed lips for a quick kiss. When you open your eyes so close to his gorgeous face all that is on your mind are those 3 words, the ones that have been there since the first moment.

One more peck and you disappear into the safety of his neck again. “I’m so close Daddy,” you hoarsely whisper into his ear. “Ya wanna touch your little clit baby?” You nod. “Nuh, uh Moon, use your words” he knows how hard you try to not let go. “Ple..Pleaseeee, can I touch my clit, please Daddy?” You sound close to crying so Joel decides to show some mercy. “Go ahead, touch that clit, make yourself come.”

You do, with only drawing a couple small circles you fall over the edge, twitching and clenching down hard on both of them. Jack and Joel follow you suit spilling deep inside your holes. The waves of your high are still cursing through you when some commotion forces you to find back to the present moment.

Jack and Joel don’t get to catch their breaths after filling you up. “Wha…What the fuck is going on here?” James furious voice cuts through the blissful quiet. Jack instantly pulls out of you with a hiss letting his cum flow down from your used asshole to your pussy still plugged with Joel’s cock.

James thinks it’s just him walking in on something strange. His Dad and Grandfather going to town on some woman, but when you lift your head and stare straight at him while his father’s cum is dripping out of you he feels sick. “Mo..Moon, wha..what is this?” he almost wants to take a step closer but stops himself.

You don’t have the energy to answer but it’s not needed James puts two and two together. Turning away running down the stairs. Jack stumbles of the bed, grabs his shorts and hurries after James “Wait, Please James listen son..-“ the rest is cut off as they are out of hearing range.

“Fuck,” you mutter closing your eyes and putting your head down “what’s gonna happen now?”

His hands smooth over the plains of your shoulders drawing shapes on your spine. “Don’t know baby, no idea what Jack will do. But i don’t care, as long as ya here I’m happy.”

You begin to place gentle kisses to the spot you bit him earlier “Sounds like a good plan to me,”

“Good, ya gonna be the last woman I’ll love Mooni,” you sit up smacking his chest “Don’t say that Joel,” while scoffing, he’s impossible making you all sappy after fucking you brainless.

“Wait,” you move his head with your hands to face you “, where did you get that Moon Diamond Plug. I’ve been meaning to ask.”

He shrugs his shoulders “Had it specially made for ya baby girl.”

You sigh dreamily “I love you Joel,”

Without missing a beat he replies “I love you too.”

This is what heaven on earth feels like.

©️ evolnoomym 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

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#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #Gilf!Joel Miller #joel miller story #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #the last of us #Mina’s writing #My Writing

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covetyou · 10 months

Text

baubles

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: ball fucking, ball sucking, balls, wall to wall all ball, BIV (ball in vagina), sex toys (the balldo [link to website] is real and it has haunted my dreams for 6 months - pic in this ask), there's some PIV too I guess. word count: too many and they're all balls 4.4k summary: Santa Joel fucks you with his balls. That's it.

A/N: I am NOT sorry. Not now, not ever. And, yes, I watched the instructional video on how to put it on, purely for Research Purposes. We don't talk about how long I've spent thinking about balls.

Happy Ball-idays, don't say I never got you anythin' nice.

...

Santa Joel-y, slip your ballsack right into me, oh gee.

I've been a fuckin' good girl,

Santa Joel-y, so stuff 'em up my chimney tonight.

...

It was your first Christmas in Texas and your first Christmas in a place that felt unseasonably warm for the time of year. That's what you tell yourself every night as you strip off completely before slinking into bed, at least.

Except, this night is different.

It's Christmas Eve.

And someone is in your house. You're sure of it.

A click of a button and you're on your feet, creeping to your bedroom door to listen out for the intruder. You almost didn't hear it, too preoccupied to be on the lookout for burglars on Christmas Eve.

There's a tell tale rustle, the stomp of feet. Whoever it is, they're not even trying to be quiet. You'd respect the brazenness of it all if someone hadn't broken into your damn house. You toy with calling the cops, maybe a neighbor, but you know it'll be too late by the time anyone gets here to do anything, so you make the stupid decision to head downstairs and confront the intruder alone.

Wrapping your flimsy bath robe around yourself, you grab the nearest makeshift weapon you can find (a broken umbrella you still hadn't thrown away) and click the door open, slinking out into the hallway and down the stairs.

If he hears you before you get down the stairs, he doesn't let on. But there, right in front of your Christmas tree is the unmistakable figure of a man. A big man. He's tall, and broad, and his silhouette is wrapped in something fluffy, making it look like there's a giant teddy bear standing in your living room.

You flick the light on, startling him, making him drop a heavy bag undoubtedly filled with your things onto the floor with a heavy thud.

"Oh, shit."

A single ornament rolls out of the bag and across the floor. You both stand frozen and silent, watching it move until it knocks against your bare toes. Only when it's stopped do you drag your eyes back up to look at the man who broke into your house.

Your umbrella clatters to the floor.

"What the...?"

The man before you is dressed as Santa, hat and all.

Only this man was not as old as you would expect for someone claiming to be Santa Claus. His beard is patchy, the scruff around his chin only speckled with gray. He has lines around his eyes, crinkled divots in his skin from so many years of laughter. The red coat pulled around his form is unbelted, falling open at the middle to reveal a white vest and the soft swell of his belly.

"What the fuck are you doin' in my house?" you yell.

"Shh, quit your fuckin' hollerin'."

He takes a step toward you and you back into the wall, trying to keep your distance from the very Texan man who had broken into your house dressed as Santa on Christmas Eve.

And that's when you see behind him, to the glittering lights of your Christmas tree, and the branches covered in ornaments. Ornaments that did not belong to you. You'd bought the thing on sale at the grocery store just a week ago. When you put it up and plugged it in, grateful for the existence of pre-lit trees, you settled on the fact you wouldn't decorate it this year. Even so, it was beautiful as it was, and you enjoyed the soft glow of the lights in the evenings as you wound down after work. Now, that soft glow was accompanied by the twinkling reflections of the many ornaments hanging on it.

"Did you... did you decorate my tree?"

He looks at you like you're mad, and maybe you are. Maybe you came so hard on your vibrator upstairs that you passed out, and this is all a dream. A very vivid dream where you can smell the warm oaky scent of the man in front of you and feel the heat of him as he crowds you against the wall.

"What else do you think I've been doin'?" he says, as if it should be entirely obvious that he's been here decorating your tree all along.

"I don't know, maybe stealing my shit?"

He, once again, looks at you like you're stupid and gestures to his suit, red and velvety, draped around his body. It looks good on him, and does nothing to help the thick syrupy feeling still coursing through your veins. Having a man like him break into your house felt like one of lifes great injustices, but having him break in when you were mid-jerk off was purely inhumane. Other than point to the door and tell him to get out, there was nothing you could do but gape at him and hope he didn't notice you curl your toes as he looked at you.

He takes a step closer, heavy boot falling with a thud in front of you, and shrugs. "If you don't want it, I'll take it back."

Up this close, the smell of him goes straight to your head, your body seemingly ready and rearing to go at the slightest hint of something masculine in your presence. Your tongue suddenly feels too big and clumsy so, not trusting a single word that would come out of your mouth, you shake your head. You would actually, really, very much like the decorations to stay and the man who put them there.

Texas always felt hot to you, but something about this room was now super heating. You're keenly aware of the stickiness pooling between your thighs, and even more aware of the visible sheen of sweat on your head and the warmth in your cheeks. If he looked closely, he'd even be able to see glistening on your fingers, making you look glitter coated in the twinkle of the Christmas lights. You shift, trying to mask the buzzing in your veins at his eyes as they drag down your body.

You hadn't noticed the silky tie of your robe slowly loosen as you wiggled and fidgeted. You were too warm to notice when the fabric parted, gaping over your chest and giving him a perfect view of your tits. You were too busy staring into his deep brown eyes to notice him raise his hand.

You did, however, feel the moment his finger stroked a slow trail down the swell of your breast, puckering your nipple and making a shudder run through your spine.

"You're all unwrapped, darlin'," he whispers, just as you remember to breathe again. "S'gettin' a bit warm in here, huh?"

He absentmindedly discards his hat as his finger traces down your body, flicking the light back off behind you once his hat hits the floor. You know where he, and this, is heading, and you're not keen to stop it any time soon.

When his fingers stroke across your mound, you gasp. Your vibrator had made you sensitive, but you'd never had chance to finish the job, and now here he was threatening you with a good time. He cups you, completely engulfing your pussy in his broad hand, and slides it between your legs.

By now it's no secret you're already wet, your upper thighs already sticky with it. His fingers slide through with ease, the quirk of his eyebrow visible now his hat has been thrown to the side.

"Here I was thinkin' you were on the nice list. But this little thing right here tells me you're naughty as they come, darlin'. What you been doin' to yourself all alone up there in the dark?"

You're staring at him opened mouthed as he works is thick fingers over you, dragging slick over your already sensitive clit. You'd been moments away from coming when the noise from downstairs pulled you out of it, and now here he was working you back up and quickly.

"It's my house," you stutter. "Can do what I want." And right now you want to collapse into a heap on the floor with his fingers between your legs.

"That you can. You wanna go back up there and finish yourself off?"

Logically, you know your pre-orgasm desperation is clouding your judgement, that you should take him up on his offer to leave and put a stop to this, but there's something too enticing about him. You don't want to stop.

"Or do you maybe want a hand with your... Little problem?"

"Yeah," you're nodding, eyes so heavy now you want them to snap shut, but you can't resist looking at him in the glow of your Christmas lights. Red really suits him, and you swear you can see his cheeks get rosy in the dim lighting.

"S'good. Got some little problems here myself. But, seein' as you're already halfway there, seems only fair to get me to your level before we start anythin', don't you think?"

Biting your lip, you nod, taking a step closer to him. Tentatively, you reach out a hand and caress the front of his pants. They feel velvety soft, and you have no fucking clue how he doesn't look as sweaty as you feel.

"That's right. You feel that?"

You feel something grow beneath your palm. Big, thick, and heavy. You look down in stunned silence, seeing only the odd shadows cast by the Christmas tree lights sparkling over the front of his pants.

"Get on your knees and close your eyes."

You obey, wanting very much to stay on the nice list now that you know exactly what you want for Christmas. His belt jingles as he undoes the buckle, pulling it from his waist and discarding it on top of his bag. He can't resist giving his dick a quick squeeze over the fabric of his pants at the sight of your bare chest heaving in the twinkling light, before unzipping them and letting them fall down to his ankles. The fabric is so loose he can step out of them, easily tugging his booted feet from the legs.

It doesn't go unnoticed that you spend the entire time eyes closed, listening attentively, and gently rocking your hips, discreetly humping the air in a desperate attempt to find any kind of relief.

"Tsk, got an impatient one on our hands."

The same hand he'd been stroking your pussy with wraps around his cock, slowly dragging his sticky fingers up and down his rapidly hardening length. He wishes he'd told you to strip, or left the light on so he could see you more clearly, but something about your skin under the sparkling lights and the shadows cast between your legs is making him harder more quickly than ever. When his dick twitches in his hand at your deep sigh, he finally stops staring and speaks.

"Open your eyes."

You snap them open, eager to see what he has for you, and your eyes immediately turn the size of dinner plates.

His cock gorgeous, and even in the grip of his large hand it looks big. He's long, thick with a slight upward curve and a smattering of salt and pepper hair at the base. You're fairly certain he trims it, keeping it well groomed and flush to his skin, making his cock appear even larger as it juts out infront of him.

But, despite the gloriousness of this mans cock, what you can't get over are his balls. They're heavy, and full, and getting tighter and tighter as his cock hardens under your gaze. You flick your eyes up to his face and he has a knowing smirk pulling at his lips.

"Fuck," you say as you look back down at it, at them, and let out a shaky breath.

His whole body shakes with a laugh, jingling his bells, as you take in his length. Hand never leaving his cock, his gentle strokes become firmer, and he's guiding the tip toward your face a moment later.

"What should I call you?" you ask, realizing you don't even know his name yet, just as his tip touches to your lips. Exhilarating as it was to fuck a man who had broke into your house, you still wanted to know his name, and not even to press charges - you wanted to know what to scream when you came.

"Santa works just fine."

Pulling back, you scoff, "You want me to call you Santa Claus?"

"Fuck no! Do I look like a Claus to you? S'Joel."

"Santa Joel?"

"Fuck yeah darlin', now open up."

You stick out your tongue, waiting for his cock to slide along the spit slicked muscle. He drags his tip across it, letting you lick at his head before you capture his cock in your mouth, sucking it in and flicking your tongue lightly on his frenulum. The salty sweet taste of him makes you crave more, so you draw him further into your mouth, sliding up and down his cock as he stares down at you with an open mouth.

Dragging your hands up his bare thighs, you grab the base of his cock with one, steadying him as you suck. You tickle the other across his balls, looking up at him as he pulls in a sharp breath, before grabbing them and massaging them. His balls feel entirely smooth to the touch, and you have an irresistible urge to put them in your mouth.

Dragging your lips back from his cock, you lick broadly up the length of it again and again until you're dragging your tongue across his ballsack, slowly trailing up his cock to his tip, watching him all the while. Then you kiss his balls, humming in satisfaction as you finally press your lips to the soft skin.

The sight of you on your knees, making out with his balls is sending him stupid, and all he can do is stare down at you with a look of deep concentration on his face. If he's not careful, he's going to blow his load early, coming in your hand before he even gets to fuck you.

He watches you lightly drag your teeth over his delicate ball skin. He swears he sees your eyes flicker with something deserving of the naughty list when you hear his intake of breath, but he's too preoccupied by your tongue lathing across them to take much notice. You take it in turns with them, sucking each ball into your mouth as you slowly pump his cock in your fist, before releasing and working on the other. By the time you've had enough, his cock is dripping, smearing pre-cum over your hand as you jerk him.

Licking the drippy mess off of your hand, you look up at him, savouring the taste of his cum in your mouth.

"Please tell me you want to fuck me," you say, biting down on your swollen lips. You don't know what you'll do if he says no now, you know going back upstairs to your vibrator just won't cut it, even if you now have the fantasy of kissing Santa's balls to get off to.

"You kiddin' me, darlin'? Get up here."

Relief and desperation wash through you, and you climb off your aching knees, letting your robe fall from your arms.

"Couch?" you say, keeping a firm grip on his cock as you stroke up his chest. He pulls you toward him, holding the back of your neck as he kisses you, tasting his cum and balls on your tongue. His lips are impossibly soft, just like his balls, a stark contrast to the scratch of his beard.

Moving to the couch, you bend over, wiggling your bare ass for him. He chuckles, stepping closer to you and marvelling at the lights dancing over your jiggling backside. He shucks off his own coat now, leaving him in just his vest and boots, and hones in on the peek of your pussy from between your legs.

Sliding his length up and down your slit he groans, gripping your hip in his massive hand just as he notches at your entrance.

"Well, shit, that's nice," he says, sliding his tip into you.

You're inclined to agree - it had been a long time since anyone other than yourself had fucked you, and the red hot feeling of his hard cock in you felt better than you remembered. He rocks his hips a little, drenching his cock in you bit by bit until he's fully sheathed inside your eager pussy. The solid beat of your heart throbs through your veins and straight to your core, making you clench around him as he begins to fuck you.

"You're gonna yank my dick clean off if you keep that up."

"Can't help it," you moan, "Feels so good." You let your eyes close, succumbing to the slow, steady, pleasure building in you.

Snapping his hips more firmly, he bottoms out in you over and over, pushing deep inside you with each thrust. You can feel his wet balls slap against you, rhythmically whacking into your clit, but it's not enough. You're so desperate to come you lick your fingers and reach between your legs, swiping your digits over your clit. His balls instead slap against your fingers and you can't resist trying to stroke them again.

The noises you're making are going straight to Joel's dick, and he knows he's going to blow his snowy load way before he's ready if you don't stop, so he pulls away from you. You protest as his cock slides out of you, leaving you empty and still desperate to come.

"Got a present for you," he pants from behind you.

"The ornaments?"

"Yeah. Got some real pretty baubles for you, darlin'. You'll like 'em. I promise."

He goes to his bag, long forgotten on the floor, and bends over it. You watch his soft ass and the swing of his dick and balls as he rummages around inside the sack, pulling out two things before standing up. When he doesn't immediately turn back around, clearly playing with his own cock, you start to worry that you're not satisfying him. But then he rounds on you and you see his cock and balls glisten wetly in the twinkling Christmas lights just as he throws a bottle at you. Lube.

Catching him opening another box, you gasp and draw your hand to your chest in mock shock.

"Is that not my present to open?" you say coyly, now trickling lube over your own pussy. You don't need it, but whatever he has in mind clearly calls for it.

"Good things come to those who wait."

"I'm still waiting for the coming part."

He shoots you a admonishing look and you raise your hands in surrender, before snaking one back down to keep rubbing at your clit. You're about to go mad if you don't come soon, your clit is so sensitive, a firm nub between your legs now, and your pussy so puffy from so much stimulation. It's a wonder you have any blood left in your brain at all.

The object in the box is revealed, and you can do nothing but gape at it as Santa Joel proudly holds it up with a hand on his hip.

It looks like a torpedo cockring hybrid, and you have no fucking clue what it is.

"Get yourself comfy, gotta strap myself in."

Laying back on your couch - for all its flaws, an armless couch certainly had its benefits - you spread your legs and watch him with curiousity. You still can't work out what it is.

"What is -"

And then he stretches the silicone underneath his balls, pushing each ball into the cage with his thumbs before letting go. Oh.

Oh. "Oh."

You sit in stunned silence. He's turned his balls into a dick or, more accurately, a dildo. With the length of it and the girth of his balls, you can only imagine what it's going to feel like.

"If you don't fuck me with that in the next two seconds I'm gonna scream."

With the contraption strapped around his balls, pulling them down and taught, crouches over you, pushing your legs back so your pussy is pointing skyward like a sloppy wet landing pad for his balls.

He dunks the tip of the dildo into your pussy. It's cold and unfamiliar, not like the velvety warmth of his dick that stands straight ahead of you, taunting you with its glistening tip. If you could fold yourself in a pretzel you would, just to suck the head of his cock back into your mouth.

He pushes down, squatting over you with bare legs, sheathing the entire dildo into you. Another push and you feel the swell of his balls as they pop past your entrance and nestle themselves inside of you.

You gasp. The feeling is wholly unfamiliar, but still you feel yourself soaking him, slicking up his balls as they sit in your pussy.

"That hurtin'?"

"No. No, it's just I- I've never had someone's balls in me before."

"A first ball fuckin' for this little pussy," he says affectionately, stroking a thumb over your lips as they wrap themselves around his balls. His cock is protruding out of you now, like you're wearing a life like strap, and you really wish you could reach to taste where his tip threatens to drip onto you. Suddenly you understand the boys back in highschool and their failed attempts to suck their own dicks.

"They feel so big inside," you moan as he begins to gently shift above you. He pops out of you once, and pushes back in, and you throw your head back onto the soft sofa woth a moan. You have never felt anything like this. "Joel, please don't stop. Please keep fucking me with your balls."

"You got it darlin'," his voice is soft, in awe of you as you take his balls and the toy deep inside you. You feel incredible, and the wet slip of your walls on his ball skin shoots straight down his dick, and for a moment he thinks he's accidentally came too early. A quick look from your face, contorting with the fullness in your pussy, down to where his dick sticks outward, tells him otherwise. Thank fuck. He knows he has to get you off quickly. You were soaking his dick not too long ago, and before that his fingers, and before that your own sheets upstairs. You were ready, and he was nothing if not a giving man.

His thumb finds your clit, slippery from lube and your own slick, and he circles it, applying a firm pressure as he moves.

"Oh my god, that's it," you plead, opening your eyes to look at where he plays with you, balls still sunk deep.

You spur him on, rocking your hips as much as you can with your legs back, fucking yourself on his balls as he strokes your clit. You feel your pussy tense, little spasms warning you of what's to come, and you hold on tight to your own legs.

"That's it darlin'. Come on my balls. Squeeze 'em."

"F-fuuuck."

The swipe of his thumb sends you over, and you come hard on his balls with your head back and eyes squeezed shut. Your legs shake and you know he can feel how you twitch and spasm around his balls, drenching them as he dunks them in you, shallowly thrusting them as you tighten and grip him hard.

He's holding your legs back for you, looking you in the eye as he bends forward over your limp body when you open your eyes. The feral look on his face tells you he hasn't come yet, and you're desperate to see when he does.

"You been so nice I'm gonna give you an extra present. You ready?"

"Please Santa Joel, I've been so good this year," you say with a soft smirk.

He soon wipes the smirk off your face when he fucks down into you harder, practically bouncing off your ass as he slots his swollen balls into your pussy. They feel so big and heavy inside you, and even strapped down and pulled tight by the toy, you feel his balls tighten and try to draw up closer to his cock as he gets closer to coming.

"Come on me. Please. Come on me," you beg, staring between his cock and his face. Pre-cum had been steadily dripping onto you, splattering your belly, but you were hungry for more.

His fingers grip around his flushed head, stroking easily over the slicked surface. Pushing his balls deep, he bounces gently, loving the feel of his sensitive ball skin inside of your soaked hole.

"Here it comes, darlin'. Oh shit."

"Yeah, come on me. Come all over me Joel."

"Shit. Fuck."

You watch his slit as it seems to wink at you before ropes of come spurt out of the tip, shooting across your chest and neck, spattering your face and even your hair with his cum.

"Yes, yes, thank you," your eyes have snapped shut. You can feel the warm trickle of cum by your eyebrow, and you're not keen to feel the sting of semen in your eye.

For a little while he looks at you, fucked out by his balls and laying boneless on your couch. With a soft pop he pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty without his balls in you. Your legs flop down and you listen to his deep breaths.

"Nothin' like a ballgasm," he pants.

Nothing like being ballfucked, you think, but the words are heavy in your mouth and you do nothing but moan, mumbling some nonsense.

"Mm... balls. They... mm. Yeah. Good."

"Too fucked out, huh?" he laughs, before swiping the cum from near your eye. "Make a Christmas wish," and he slips the finger into your waiting mouth.

He slides his finger from your mouth and you murmur a thank you as you make your wish, sighing and letting yourself relax completely for a moment.

When you tentatively open your eyes, wary of any errant drops of cum, he's gone, disappeared as soon as he'd arrived. You didn't hear the door, the window, anything. You certainly didn't hear him get dressed.

Feeling stupid, and like maybe it was all just a dream, you rush to the window. You don't expect to see anything, the man feeling too magical to have been real. But, there he is, walking down the street bare assed, his pants slung over his shoulder and his balls still swinging strapped into the toy.

No, you don't think you'll be forgetting your first Christmas in Texas any time soon at all.

next part

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captainfern · 1 year

Note

just read rock bottom (both parts) - it was really good !!on a side note, thank you for making it gn, not many writers do that =]

but after reading part 2 i cant help but think that price knew and was kinda putting on a show for soap ... maybe as a reward after a hard mission he invites soap to help him and reader out, and soap realizes some Things about himself, mainly that he likes both of them -- but thats just my thought, im a sucker for threesomes (all good things come in threes after all lol)

anyway, like i said before, rock bottom is really good !! i love how you wrote it, and especially soap's orgasms - im a sucker for guys who are pathetic and cun in their pants

sorry for the long ask, i just wanted to say my thoughts =D

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Rock Bottom pt. 3

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x gn!reader x Captain John Price

[“Rock Bottom” by KISS]

[18+]

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• summary - soap thinks he's dreaming when price invites him to make you feel good lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 3.5k • warnings - gn!reader [they/them, 'hole', 'sweetheart', 'love', 'baby' are used], unprotected piv, threesome? idk price doesn't do a lot but it's enough lol, sub!soap, praise, oral [m!receiving], fingering, m!masturbation, a sprinkle of cum play, strong language

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i've changed it up a bit but i hope you like <3

sidenote i fucking LOVE that pic of soap

Late that night, Soap had a knock on his door. He wasn't expecting anyone, so when he checked his watch and it read 23:55, he was confused.

He opened the door, and was shocked to see you standing there. You smiled at him, and Soap swore he almost melted on the spot.

"Hey, Soap. Sorry, did I wake you?" You cocked your head to the side curiously, taking in Soap's unkempt mohawk and pyjama pants.

Soap shook his head. "No, no, was about too, though. Are you alright?"

You nodded, fidgeting with your fingers. You looked up and down the hall, before you leaned in closer. Soap's breath hitched, and he could smell your shampoo. He took a breath.

"Price wants to talk to you," you whispered. "He's in my room."

Soap's stomach sunk. Why would Price want to speak to him while he's in your room? The only logical explanation was that he knew what kind of sick fuck Soap was, listening in on him and you on more than two occasions.

Soap felt his cheeks warm in embarrassment, his spine tingling with nerves.

"Am... I in trouble?" Soap asked, and you gasped, shaking your head.

"No, of course not! Why would you think that?"

"Just wondering..." He trailed off, before he was following you down the hall a couple of metres to your bedroom door.

You opened the door and ushered him inside. Soap heard you close and lock it before you breezed past him and settled on the edge of your bed, a soft smile on your face.

Price leaned against the far wall by the window, a lit cigar in his hand. He exhaled a plume of smoke and it drifted out the open window, the tip of the cigar glowing red. The room was pretty dark, asides from the couple of soft, golden lamps dotted around the room.

Price cast a look over his shoulder at Soap.

"You know why you're here?" Price questioned, and Soap's stomach flipped with nerves.

"Uh... not really, sir."

"I think you do." Price said simply, closing the window and crossing the room with his cigar hanging from his lips. He paused beside your bed, placing a hand on top of your head, petting your hair.

Soap was burning up, and he dropped his gaze. He had been fucking caught, hadn't he?

"You're not in trouble, Soap. I told you that," you said soothingly, leaning into Price's touch. "But we know you listen. Through the wall. At the safe-house."

Soap was mortified. The tips of his ears were burning so hot he imagined there was steam coiling from them. He had his eyes firmly on the ground, looking at his feet. He didn't have the nerve to look up at you and Price.

"It's okay," you concluded. "You don't have to be embarrassed."

"Easier said than done..." Soap grumbled, face and body growing hot. Despite his torso being bare, he felt like he was being suffocated by his skin.

"You like the way they sound, don't you, sergeant?" Price voiced, and that made Soap finally tear his eyes away from the ground. "You have quite the crush, don't you?"

"...yes sir." Soap whispered. There was no point in denying it now. He was far too deep in whatever was going on.

Price hummed, looking down at you as he continued to massage your scalp, smoking his cigar. The smell permeated the room, lingering thick and woody. A light grey haze shimmered in the lamplight, hovering just above Price's head. Soap'd be concerned for his own lungs if he wasn't overcome with a million different emotions right now.

"You can fuck them, Soap." Price said suddenly, dragging his hand to the side of your face, cupping your jaw.

Soap's mouth dropped open. He couldn't help it. He wasn't fucking expecting that.

"I... I mean— not that I don't— it's... you know, it's just— are you sure? I don't—" Soap stuttered.

"It's okay, Soap," you said calmly as Price traced your lips with his thumb. "I want to. If, of course, you want to as well? You don't have to if you feel uncomfortable."

Price slipped his thumb passed your lips, and you snagged it between your teeth before you sucked it lightly. Soap's mouth continued to gape, not quite sure what to do or say.

"So?" Price urged, pushing his thumb deeper into your mouth, cigar hanging loosely from his lips. "You want to fuck them, or no?"

"But... aren't you two... together?"

"I don't mind sharing."

Soap's cock twitched at that. You were still sucking on Price's thumb, but your eyes were on Soap. You battered your lashes at him, and he felt his cock jump again, now semi-hard beneath the thin cotton of his pyjamas.

"Well?" Price prompted. "Last chance. You in?"

Soap was nodding before he got the words out of his mouth. "Y-yeah. Yes, sir. Please, sir."

Price beckoned Soap forward, popping his thumb out of your mouth. With one last pat to your cheek, Price settled at the head of your bed, smoking his cigar against your headboard. Meanwhile, you continued to sit cross-legged near the edge of your bed, smiling up at Soap as he approached.

When Soap's abdomen was parallel with your face, you reached forward and took hold of his pyjama drawstrings. You slowly pulled the bow apart, before you tucked your fingers beneath the waistband. You paused, looking back over your shoulder at Price. Soap realised you were looking for some kind of instruction. That made his cock harden further.

"You want to suck his cock, sweetheart?" Price asked.

You nodded, and Soap released a shaky breath.

"Right. Let him up on the bed."

Soap sat on the edge of the bed and you crawled onto the floor. You skimmed your fingers along his waistband teasingly, enjoying the goosebumps that appeared along the pale flesh. You could see the imprint of his hard cock beneath his pyjamas, and saliva flooded your mouth. You looked up at him, and the way he was looking at you made your stomach draw tight in pleasure.

You pulled his pyjamas down, and he helped by lifting his hips. You slipped it down his thighs just enough for his hard cock to spring out. It was achingly hard already, the tip flushed red and adorned with a single bead of pre-cum that threatened to fall as his cock bobbed against his stomach.

Soap hissed, tossing his head back when you took hold of him. You grasped him tight at the base, leaning forward to drool a string of saliva down his length. He groaned, breathy and desperate, as the saliva dripped down his shaft and collected above your closed fist. You smeared it up and down, pumping him, before you placed a couple of tiny licks to the tip.

His hips stuttered, and a hand shot down to hold your head. His hands weren't as big as Price's, but they sat heavier. Heavier in a way that made your stomach flip as he attempted to guide your mouth further onto his cock. You didn't let him— still placing small licks across the weeping slit, and along the underside of his head. He groaned your name, pressing your head closer, your mouth pushing against the tip of his cock, pre smearing across your lips.

Your other hand reached down to cup his balls, and his hips jolted again. He whined, eyelids drooping as he watched you fist his cock a couple of times. Then, you licked a fat stripe from base to tip, and he moaned loudly, tugging at the roots of your hair. He tasted heady, tainted with salt, as you swirled your tongue around his cockhead once more, before you finally gave in to his desperate pushing and opened your mouth wide.

You sunk your mouth around him, and he released another desperate moan, followed by a whimper when you hollowed your cheeks. He wasn't as lengthy as Price, but he was certainly wider. His cock stretched your mouth taut as you took more of him, and when your lips came into contact with your fist at the base, you gagged.

"Fuck, fuck," Soap groaned, hips twitching to thrust deeper. "S-so good."

Saliva leaked from your mouth as you pulled back, and then took more of him, bobbing your head up and down. His hand in your hair was a stable pressure, encouraging you to take more and more of him. You removed your hand at the base, holding his thigh for stability as his tip dragged across the back of your tongue, edging your throat. You gagged again, and Soap moaned in response.

Behind Soap, Price palmed himself through his trousers. He grunted softly, pressing his hand to the imprint of his hard cock. He puffed on his cigar, intent on not touching himself fully until Soap was fucking you into your bed.

"Mmmfuck, m'gonna come," Soap whimpered, pressing your head closer until your nose pressed to the hair at his pelvis. "M'gonna... fuck..."

"Pull back, sweetheart." Price ordered calmly, and you listened. You pulled your mouth off of Soap's cock with a wet pop, admiring how it glistened with your saliva. Soap groaned, frustrated, trying to push your head back towards his cock.

Price nudged Soap's lower back with his foot. "Don't start, Soap."

Soap stopped with a whimper, looking down at you. He pet your head, massaging your scalp. You kissed his inner thighs, before retracting your hands and getting to your feet.

Your chest was now level with Soap's face. Soap couldn't help but stare when you ripped your shirt off, nipples hardening in the cool air. Soap whined, and you let him lean forward and take one of your nipples into his mouth. You hummed in pleasure, hugging his head as he sucked and skimmed his teeth along your nipple. He switched to the other one as Price tutted behind him.

"Look how desperate he is for you, love," Price grunted, dipping a hand into his own pyjama pants and cupping himself, not fully stroking yet. "Make him beg to fuck you."

You cried out, the sound morphing to a moan as Soap bit at the skin around your nipples, sucking bruised over the indents of his teeth. He pulled away finally, his lips puffy and glossy. You stroked his short hair before taking one hand to the longer strands of his mohawk, tugging it to expose the bare expanse of his throat.

His Adam's apple bobbed as you clambered into his lap and attached your mouth to it, sucking harshly. Soap groaned, the vibrations travelling through your mouth as you peppered bruises up the column of his neck.

"You heard the captain," you teased, sucking a bruise right beneath Soap's ear before you bit down on his earlobe. "Beg for it."

Soap offered absolutely no resistance. He angled his head to look up into your eyes as you pulled away. His eyes were glassy and full of desperation, and it forced an involuntary moan from your throat.

"Please, please, let me fuck you," he begged, hands at your waist, trying to grind you against his lap. "Please, baby, please, I need it, I need it so bad—"

"You need it?" Price chuckled, and Soap's face burned up. "Hear that, sweetheart? He needs it."

"Aww, such a needy boy." You chuckled, placing a kiss to Soap's nose before you slipped off his lap.

You clambered across the bed until you were sat between Price's legs. You lay down, your head on his lap as you lifted your hips and pulled your shorts and underwear down, exposing yourself to Soap. Soap moaned, throwing his own pants away before he was swivelling his body, now sitting between your ankles. He grabbed your shorts and underwear and pulled them the rest of the way down, tossing them across the room.

"Please, please..." Soap whimpered, taking hold of your ankles and rubbing the skin. "Please can I... Please can I fuck you?"

You hummed, running your hands up and down Price's legs, feeling the material of his pyjamas. Price grunted, finally taking his cock out behind your head, gripping it in his hand. He fisted it, stroking a few times before stopping.

"Your choice, love." Price uttered, voice gravelly.

You smiled, biting your lip. "Have you been a good boy, Soap? Do you deserve it?"

Soap nodded desperately, crawling closer until his hands were smoothing against your thighs. "Yes, fuck, I've been a good boy. I'm—" he cut himself off with a whimper. "I'm your good boy. Please."

As Soap whimpered and begged, Price placed his cigar to the side and leaned down, cupping your jaw to angle your mouth to his. He kissed you deeply, tongue probing your mouth. Smoke swirled between the two of you, and you whined into the kiss. It was sloppy and lewd, the sounds downright pornographic. It tasted bitter and sweet all at once and when Price pulled back, he ran his tongue along your bottom lip for good measure.

Soap whimpered, moaning at the sight. He took his cock in his hand, fisting it roughly as you and Price pressed your tongues together. Price pulled back an inch, a thick string of saliva connecting the tips of your tongues. Soap moaned again, pre rolling from his aching tip and down his shaft. He was painfully hard, cock twitching with each movement of his fist.

The string of saliva snapped and Price pulled back completely, picking up his cigar and placing it between his lips, taking a deep inhale. Meanwhile, you looked back at Soap, all desperate and whiney. Butterflies fluttered around your stomach, and your smile grew wider after you licked your lips.

"You're so pretty, Johnny," you whimpered, fingers trailing down your body. "Want you to fill me."

Soap moaned, mouth dropping open. He continued to jerk himself off as you quickly sucked your fingers into your mouth, before you were placing them at your hole. You pushed them in, arching your back, and Soap moaned again.

"Don't they sound so pretty?" Price mumbled, stroking his cock too.

Soap was nodding deliriously, eyes trained on where your fingers fucked your hole. He whimpered, begging silently with his eyes, pupils blown wide.

Price chuckled. "Come on, sweetheart. Give Soap what he wants."

You nodded, removing your fingers and spreading your legs wider, draping them over Price's. Soap wasted no time drawing closer until his cock rested against the plush flesh of your inner thigh. He was breathing deeply, whimpering softly as his cock ached, throbbing with need.

"Fuck me, Johnny." You said, and that was all Soap needed.

Cock wet with your saliva and his pre-cum, he notched the head at your entrance and pushed inside. Slowly, he stretched you open, and you moaned loudly, turning your head into Price's thigh. Price stroked your hair, other hand fucking his cock into his fist. The sounds were loud behind you, making you moan again.

Soap screwed his eyes shut, chewing on the inside of his cheek in focus. He didn't want to bust a fucking nut halfway inside you. Fucking hell.

He pushed in further and further before he bottomed out with a guttural moan of your name. He grabbed your legs and put them around his hips, notching himself deeper with the new angle.

He whimpered. "Fuck, feel's so good, baby. So tight."

You moaned, feeling him deep inside you. Not as deep as Price would normally reach, but deep enough that his tip skimmed somewhere inside you that had your back arching He was thick, stretching your hole open around his girth, making you whine.

"Move, Johnny." You whispered, pleading.

You felt so full.

He obliged, beginning to rut into you like a man starved. He whimpered and whined, one hand kneading your thigh around his waist, the other gripping your hip and pulling you back onto him. His cock slammed into you, fucking your hole in a way that even made Price let out a groan.

"That feel good, love?" He asked, a puff of cigar smoke blowing across your bare body.

"Mhm." You nodded, unable to form a sentence as Soap fucked you.

Price fucked his fist, grunting around the shape of his cigar. The air was hazy around your head— or maybe it was the dizzy pleasure overtaking your brain and the thin ring of tears in your eyes. The noises that both Price and Soap were making made your stomach twist, butterflies coursing through you.

Price grunted, deep and earthy, tasting of smoke. Slick sounds followed as he continued to stroke his cock, his other hand coming to rest on the side of your face, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. A small ember from the tip of his cigar floated down and landed on your cheek. It burned slightly, but Price smoothed it away with his thumb. It made you moan.

Soap meanwhile was the complete opposite. No deep grunts or curses or anything like that. He had been reduced to a whimpering, whining mess. Each time his cock pressed deeper into you, he whimpered softly, often followed by a higher-pitched whine before he was moaning your name like a mantra. His breathing was rapid and uneven as he rutted his cock into your hole.

"Tell them how good you feel, Soap," Price grunted above you, and your eyes rolled as Soap hit a spot inside you that had your hole pulsing around him. Soap moaned breathlessly, now peppering wet kisses along your neck and chest. Price huffed, nudging Soap's leg with his foot. "Tell them, sergeant."

Soap whimpered. "Feels so good, baby, fuck. Such a t-tight hole, all for me."

"Careful..." Price grumbled, but Soap didn't seem to notice. Or maybe he just didn't care.

He had his sole focus on pumping his cock into you. Your body trembled beneath him, legs quivering against his hips. You were moaning softly, his name. Johnny, Johnny. He had been wanting this, craving this, for so fucking long. He could feel his orgasm building, but he wanted you to come first.

"You wanna come?" Soap whispered after sucking a dark splotch onto the base of your throat.

You nodded, chewing your lip as your body began to heat up. Price continued to pet your face, fist speeding up, cigar still hanging loosely from his lips.

"Go on then, baby. Come for me, please." Soap whispered, and you listened— your body spasming, back arching as you came.

Soap moaned loudly at the feeling of your hole squeezing his cock as your orgasm rolled over you. Price moaned too, thrusting up into his hand a couple more times before he came. Hot spurts fell past his fist, splattering your hair and cheek. You whimpered out and, breathing hard, he placed his cigar on the bedside table's ashtray, and smeared his cum across your cheek.

"S’all right, love, there you go." He muttered, admiring the way his seed painted the edges of your hair and the soft dips of your cheek and cheekbone.

Soap watched the exchange and whined deeply, the sound stretched out as his orgasm neared. He fucked into your tight hole with his eyes halfway open, pleasure making it difficult for him to open them fully. But he wanted to see you. See how pretty you looked when he came inside you.

"Fuck," he cursed. "M'gonna come— fuck— gonna come inside you, baby, just— ah, ngh— mmmfuck, baby, 'm gonna—"

"Not inside, MacTavish." Price growled, and this time Soap heard him, he just didn't give a fuck.

Soap shook his head. "M'gonna— please—"

You whimpered. "No, no... please, inside."

Price grit his teeth. "Fucks sake, don't—"

Soap came with a string of whimpers on his lips, your name falling across his tongue in a moan. He pumped you full, stretching your hole around his fat cock and filling you hot. You moaned, hands now running up and down Soap's back.

Soap's body dropped onto yours, cock still inside you, and he nuzzled his face into your neck as his breathing calmed. He gently kissed the skin, and you stroked his back, legs flopping off of his hips and laying either side of him, pressed against Price's.

"Good boy, Soap." You whispered, bringing a hand up to massage the back of his head.

He whined into your neck, and you smiled. Then, you looked up at Price, who was still stroking the side of your face, looking down at you with those pretty dark eyes.

"You 'right, love?" He asked.

You nodded, smiling, barely able to keep your eyes open. "Mhm..."

He patted your cheek gently, before he took a fistful of Soap's mohawk and lifted him from your neck. Both you and Soap gasped, and Price made the Scot look up at him.

"You're on cleaning duties for the next month, Soap," Price said simply. "Listen to me next time."

Soap scoffed, and Price let go of his hair. He immediately buried his face back into the curve of your shoulder, sucking gently on the bare skin.

After a moment, he mumbled: "So, there's going to be a next time?"

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #captain john price #captain price #captain price smut #price x reader #gn reader #soap x reader #soap call of duty #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap smut #cod smut #gender neutral reader #captain'skiss

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marvelwitchergilmore · 4 months

Text

Cardigan

Summary: Spencer Reid x Fe!Reader (BAU Agent) -> A case, a cardigan and a life time of memories help both you and Spencer realise something about yourselves.

Disclaimer: Not proof read. Mentions of Criminal Minds level violence. 16+. Fluff, pining. Descriptions of being attacked and falling into a river (but ends safely). Garcia sorting out two blind oblivious idiots. Happy Ending.

23:49

Usually, people were asleep close to midnight. Usually, people were dreaming of their favourite TV show and character, imagining a world where they worked alongside them or danced the night away with them in a ballroom that could make a Disney Live-Action movie jealous.

However, that was not what you were doing.

Instead, you were opening up your bathroom door and walking back inside your hotel room. The carpet a little rough beneath your feet, you unravelled your hair from the towel and began ringing out what was left of the water from your shower.

Moving over to your closet, you pulled open the door and found what you were looking for.

A cardigan.

The Cardigan.

The one you wore whenever you were in need of a little comfort because, despite owning it and washing it multiple times over the years, it was still him.

One touch of the fabric and it was like being transported back to the day he gave it to you. Or, at least, let you borrow it then proceed to keep it.

The case had been in Colorado.

Four female students had gone missing in the space of two months. And, as much as it could be considered a coincidence, they all matched the same description and had last been seen at a convenience store, with fresh spray paint of their single initial.

And, on the fourth night of the case, you were at such a place.

All it had been for was a snack run for yourself, JJ and Morgan. However, as you began walking back down the street, you heard the shake of a spray-paint can and, the minute the stranger found your eyes, they set off running.

And so did you.

Making a call on your way, you shared your location with Garcia who patched in Morgan and Reid from the precinct.

“Hey, wait! Stop!”

Round a back alley corner, you lost them. You walked further up to see if you could find a trail, however, all you found was a small bridge and a river.

And as you looked around, from behind you, you felt someone try and run you down and it became a struggle.

Fighting back and forth until he took hold of your jacket and pulled you over the edge with him.

Disorientated from the fall, you struggled to find your way back up to the surface and when you did, you were only dragged back down.

However, in all the commotion, a light came from the bridge and your attacker suddenly let go and, from the waves of the water, began swimming away as fast as he could.

Coughing up the last of the water, you pulled yourself up the edge of the riverbank, laying on your back until your heart rate slowed down enough for you to catch a decent breath.

“Hey, hey! Y/n! Look at me.”

Turning on your side, you tiredly pushed Morgan’s hand down from your face. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“Do you think you can stand it?”

You nodded. “Just give me a minute.”

“What the hell happened?”

“You mean other than me being dragged into a river giving me flashbacks of college?”

“Y/n!? Y/n?! Are you okay?”

“She’s fine, pretty boy.” Morgan called back up the riverbank as Reid made his way down.

“Are you sure?!”

“I’m fine, Spencer. I swear.”

Having made his way to your side, he kneeled down a little, checking you over. Only when he touched your skin did you realise you must have hit your head under the water on something because it was stinging from an open cut.

“Sorry,” Spencer said as you hissed.

“It’s okay, Just…help me up.”

Spencer did as he was told and Morgan led the way back up the bank.

By the time you made it back to the precinct, considering it was closer than the hospital and they already had a paramedic waiting, JJ and some other officers had found the Spray Paint runner, and had pictures taken of the job he had done outside of the store.

Having taken a shower in the locker room, Emily passed you through some of your spare clothes which consisted of a black t-shirt and some grey joggers. You were sitting in the hallway, your hair was damp and still dripping a little around your shoulders. Meanwhile, in your hands lay one of the pictures the CSI had taken.

It could have been a coincidence, but more than likely it wasn’t.

It was your initial.

A shiver had taken hold of your body, whether from the truth or the cold you didn’t know.

“Hey, here.”

From down the hall, Spencer approached you and removed his cardigan. “You’re cold.”

“I’m fine, Spence.”

“You fell in a river and now have washed, wet hair in a building filled with AC. You’re cold. Here.”

With a slight smile, you took the cardigan from him and in almost an instant, it warmed you. It had been warmed by him and now it was warming you.

“Thank you.”

Spencer smiled, looking around before picking up the towel that was laid over the back of your chair.

“Here.”

Slowly pulling your hair around to one side, Spencer rang out the last of the water with the towel.

“Did they get him?”

Your voice was quieter than usual.

“The spray painter? Yes. Hotch has him in interrogation right now. Morgan and Emily are out looking for the guy who attacked you.”

You just nodded, part of your brain reliving the attack.

From the back of your neck, Spencer could see a large bruise. It wasn’t too bad, but he knew it still hurt you considering whenever you moved in your seat, it seemed a struggle.

“But I don’t match the MO.”

This was something you couldn’t wrap your head around. You were out of college age range. The girls kidnapped didn’t have the same features. Similar, perhaps. But not the same. You hadn’t been in any similar places, other than the convenience store.

“We’re thinking that perhaps he revisited some of the old sites.”

“And I’m the one that is closest to his victims…”

Spencer nodded and you took a deep breath, handing him the picture. “I can’t keep looking at that.”

You both sat in silence for a few minutes until Spencer finished and placed the towel down on the back of the chair again.

“I was thinking about picking up some food, how about you come with me?”

Taking in a breath, you collapsed your hands between your knees and stood. “Yeah. Let me just use the bathroom.”

Spencer nodded, watching you push the door to the ladies room open, before Hotch walked over.

“You’re taking her out?”

“Yeah, I thought it would be best.”

Hotch nodded. “Maybe try and get her to talk about it. See what she remembers. Anything that can help us track down the attacker.”

“Ready to go?” Spencer said, watching as you came out of the bathroom door.

“Yeah.”

Sitting in the passenger seat, Spencer drove through the small town, and a little down the highway towards the only decent diner close to the town.

In the passenger seat, you kept your eyes fixed on the scenery outside the window whilst the scent from Spencer’s cardigan blocked out the scent from the cheap shampoo one of the officers had found in a locker.

Every now and again Spencer would glance over at you, that swirling feeling in his stomach getting stronger and stronger. When Garcia had patched the call through, he had heard your voice and something dropped in his stomach. He tried his best to remain calm, asking where you were and what you saw but when you went quiet, just before he heard a grunt in pain, his heart dropped.

Spencer had met you in the Academy.

Like himself, you too had been a child prodigy of sorts so you were around his age, too. Often, you found yourself in the same circles, however a small part of each of you seemed to compete against one another.

An exam, a race, a training course.

However, neither of you were too focused on your small rivalry to not help when the other needed it.

After all, after Hotch, you were the one to help Spencer continue to hold his gun licence.

And he was the one to help you finish up paperwork on those late nights.

And when he saw your body unmoving on the side of the riverbank, it felt like his heart was shattering.

It felt like you had been there for most of his life and you had, at least, for his adult life. And the thought that you wouldn’t be there for the rest of it brought such pain to him…he didn’t know what to do other than try his best to remember your voice and the way your hand fit into his as he helped you up from the grass and how you felt, leaning against him on the drive back.

He didn’t want to let you go, so when Hotch said someone should watch you, he was the first to say yes.

He’d known you the longest and, for what it was worth, he knew you trusted him enough that if you wanted to open up, it, in one way or another, would have been to him.

And he was right, by the time he pulled up outside of the diner, you explained all that you could remember to him. From the turnings you took, to the feeling of being under the water and having a split second of thinking you wouldn’t make it back to the surface.

And when you cried, wiping away the tears on your cheeks with the sleeve of his cardigan, Spencer unbuckled his belt and reached over, hugging you so tight it was like if he ever let go, he would stop breathing.

You thought back to that night as you slipped your arms through the sleeves.

There had been a couple of different nights after that, that you thought of when you took in the feel and smell of The Cardigan.

One such night had been when Spencer and JJ had been out in the field. You had stayed back with Garcia, however that same feeling of having someone pull your heart so far back in your chest it began to hurt your spine, washed over you again.

The only thing that helped settle it was wearing his cardigan.

It was rare you did wear it, however when you did it was often for comfort and to settle your nerves from whatever was happening.

Garcia didn’t say anything, but she smiled.

She’d seen you wear The Cardigan when you came back from the Colorado case, and when you were stuck in the office late at night a few months later, and whenever she called someone on the jet when you fell asleep on Spencer’s shoulder, his head resting on yours.

But this was the confirmation she needed.

Both against you, and Spencer.

So, when nightfall came and you had decided to wait for the rest of the team to get back, she finally said something.

You had been sitting at your desk, leaning back in your chair, a pencil poked through your hair whilst a pen twirled in your hand.

“You should talk to him.”

“What?”

Garcia smiled. “Reid. You should talk to him.”

“Why?” your stomach dropped. “Is everything okay? He’s not-”

Garcia shook her head. “He’s okay. But, you should talk to him.”

“Why?”

Penelope placed a hand on your shoulder, the soft wool of the cardigan under her palm.

“This is his.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

“If you're worried he doesn’t feel the same?” Garcia pinched the fabric and shook it a little. “This is proof he does.”

“What are you-”

“For being a top profiler, you guys sure don’t know how to read a love story when it’s right in front of you.”

“Pen-”

Garcia just smiled again. “Talk to him. You’ll be surprised.”

She took her leave from there, calling out her goodbyes from the entrance door. Not too long after that, the rest of the team walked back through the door to collect the rest of their things, and if you weren’t mistaken, they all seemed to have a quiet smile on their face when they spotted what you were wearing.

However, in the end, it was just you and Spencer. And Garcia’s words kept circling around in your head.

“Hey, Spence?”

He turned around.

And you chickened out.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I- it doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, okay. Well…goodnight.”

“Night.”

What you didn’t notice as Spencer left was when he took another look. You had your back to him, so he could take a slightly longer look. The feeling in his heart grew a little more as he took in the memory of you in his cardigan.

You had tried to give it back, sneakily. However, he thinked you looked better in it. And, due to the feeling in his heart, it would forever be yours. So, he made sure to be out of the office before you one night so, when you found it looped through your bag, you had no other option but to keep it.

And now, with it holding your body. Holding your soul. You took in its scent.

You had been in love with Spencer since shortly after you had both joined the BAU. He was the first familiar face you saw when you landed in the office. He’d already been there at least five years, maybe bordering on six when you joined. And all it had taken was a simple coffee order.

You had changed your coffee order since you’d both been graduates since the Academy, however, despite the change…Spencer didn’t have to ask.

He turned up at the door of your apartment, holding out the cup for you when you opened the door to let him inside.

All he did was stand in your apartment and look around, whilst you drank him in. You’d both changed over the years and of course you had liked him, ever since you first met him. Anyone that took the time to know him, liked him, too.

But there was something.

Maybe it was his confidence.

Maybe it was the fact he knew your favourite coffee order after six years of not seeing one another.

But either way, you knew.

You knew you loved him.

A familiar knock came to the door of your hotel room, knocking you out of your memories and back into reality.

An hour later, you were sitting downstairs with the others, examining all the old case files, begging for something to jump out.

JJ sighed and threw one of the finished case files onto the table. “I’m beat. I can’t find anything. I think if I close my eyes, I can see the text written on the back of my eyelids.”

The others felt the same so it wasn’t long before they, one by one, went to bed.

Leaving just yourself and Spencer by the warming fire.

As it approached four in the morning, you closed your file and rubbed your eyes.

“Anything?”

“Nothing.”

“I think I’m gonna go to bed. If I look at this case file much longer, I’m gonna be like JJ.”

However, despite wishing to go to bed, you must have fallen asleep on the sofa as a few moments later, Spencer’s hand was on your shoulder.

“Hey, you fell asleep.”

“Oh.”

“I would have left you, but you’ll probably wake up with a stiff neck.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Spencer helped you sit up and you watched him tidy away a couple of the case files. They were safe enough in the boxes considering the entire team had all the rooms in the hotel booked out.

Once he had done that, you tidying up a few of the boxes, Spencer fixed the fire guard in front of the diminishing flames when you stood and said;

“Goodnight, or…Good morning or…whichever it is. I’ll see you when I wake up.”

“I love you.”

That stopped you in your tracks and woke you up.

With you back still to Spencer, you took a moment to breathe. Maybe you had just imagined it.

You heard Spencer whisper something to himself, a small battle growing large in his head over letting those three words slip.

Until, he said them again.

And this time you heard him crystal clear.

“I love you.”

Turning around slowly, you were soon met with his own back.

“What?”

Your voice, despite how much you thought you had your emotions in check, wavered.

Spencer turned around to face you. “I-I’m sorry. I-I should just let you-”

“Spencer, wait-”

You practically jumped forward, reaching out for him to stop. And he did.

“Say it again.”

Standing so close to him, the heat you felt…you couldn’t tell if it was from the diminishing embers or from Spencer himself.

“I love you.”

“Do you…” you swallowed, looking down for a moment, feeling his fingers trace yours. You finally looked back up to his face. “Do you mean it…as in…”

“M-more than what we are.”

It was his turn for his voice to shake.

“Are you…sure that you…”

“Sure enough, like how I know how…how to…breathe. Although, right now I don’t know how much of that is true because…because I don’t know how to-”

You placed a hand on his chest but Spencer’s own hand came to cover yours and moved it over his heart.

“I’d say you’re breathing.”

Spencer smiled. “Good.”

“I love you. I-I don’t know what this means, or what it will do and, honestly, I didn’t mean to tell you like this but I was thinking and then, I started overthinking and, I don’t know, when you said goodnight, I meant to say it back and then I-”

“Spence. Spencer,” you tried your best to slow him down. His heart was practically beating out of his chest. “I love you, too.”

“You-you love me, too?”

“I do.”

“You do?”

You nodded, holding his face in your hands. “I do. I love you, too, Spencer. I-I always have.”

From your hips, one of Spencer’s hands stopped at your waist, pulling you in just a little bit closer until your body was flushed with his before allowing his other to move further up, brushing the hair from your face and across your back. His finger traced the shape of your face, before settling under your jaw, bringing your face closer to his.

He took it slow.

Even despite the fact you had reciprocated his feelings of love, he gave you time to opt out. To say no. to push him away.

Flicking his eyes from your own, to your lips and back again. The first touch of his lips against yours was soft, barely fleeting.

Until you kissed back.

Your relaxed hands pulled him slightly closer, first by his neck, then by the collar of his shirt. All the while, his arms snaked around you, holding you flush against him.

“I might be a few years late in asking, but,” Spencer said once he finally managed to catch his breath. “Can I take you on a date?”

“Yes. Yes, Spencer. You can take me on a date.”

Years Later...

“Did I ever tell you you look good in this?”

“Your cardigans, you mean?” You smiled as Spencer took hold of your hand and pulled you closer. “Oh, every day. But I don’t mind hearing it again.”

“Well, you do.”

With a smile as he pulled you down and onto his lap, you kissed him, your arms coming around his neck and across his shoulders.

“Good.”

It had been four years since Spencer had first admitted his feelings for you and, even if life had sent you both through trials and tribulations, you’d both made it alive, together and stronger than ever.

It hadn’t taken that long for the rest of the team to figure out something had finally happened between you two, however, it still had taken a while. It was only because Morgan recognised a second cardigan that had belonged to Spencer less than a week earlier suddenly wrapped around you one late evening.

“And speaking of cardigans…” you sat up a little straighter to see Spencer as he leaned his head back to take you in fully.

He still looked at you with as much love and adoration as he had done that early morning in the hotel. Perhaps even more.

“We’re gonna need to buy a couple more.”

“Didn’t you just buy one yesterday?”

“Perhaps,” you nodded. “But this one isn’t for you, well…us…exactly.”

It hadn’t taken long for you to start wearing Spencer’s cardigans on a daily basis, but he was more than agreeable to it considering whenever he saw you in one of his, his heart soared and he knew you felt safe in them, too.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, considering ours might be a little too big…”

Then it clicked for Spencer.

“You’re…”

From a small pocket in your cardigan, you pulled out a positive pregnancy test.

“You’re gonna be a dad, Spence.”

Tears already starting to fall from your eyes, you watched as Spencer welled up and with a shaking hand took hold of the test to look at it.

“You’re pregnant?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“You’re pregnant!”

“I’m pregnant!”

In a sweeping kiss, Spencer pulled you closer as you slid down and lay against his side, your legs still over his.

“We’re gonna have a baby.” Spencer smiled, turning from the pregnancy test to you with a smile unlike any other you’d ever seen on his face.

“We’re gonna have a baby.”

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