#i know no one cares about this shit but me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sceletaflores · 3 days ago

Text

well, all right i’m bad, but then you’re no prize either…

pair: joel miller x fem!reader

wc: 8.6k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, no ellie, general violence (only referenced), age gap (56/26), swearing, so many spacers lmao, not quite friends to lovers and not quite enemies to lovers but a weird other thing, kinda mean!joel for a good sec, dressing wounds, joel miller TUMMY, loss of virginity (reader is a virgin but she's not completely oblivious and weirdly infantile about it lmao), fingering (fem!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex whoops, size kink, belly bulging, pussy pronouns, porn with a tiny plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: well, i finally caved y’all. baby’s first tlou fic! this literally took me forever to write and even longer to post cause i was so terrified LMAO so please give me some grace if it’s shit and he’s ooc and timelines are a little fuzzy cause i barely know what i’m doing. thank you chickens love you mwah mwah mwah. kisses!

dividers by lovely @saradika-graphics!

joel found a lodge house…

You don’t know what you did to make Joel Miller hate you so much.

He's never outright said it, but you know it’s there—in every sharp glance, every clipped word, every deliberate avoidance.

Besides, his silence is worse than anything he could say. A quiet condemnation that settles in your chest like stone.

You tell yourself it doesn’t matter, that you don’t care what he thinks, but the truth is harder to swallow.

You do care—more than you want to admit. His approval, his respect, hell, even a sliver of kindness from him feels like an impossible prize you’ll never win.

And you hate yourself for wanting it. For needing it.

It's not just the weight of his disdain that eats at you, it's the not knowing why. God, do you wish you could ask him why.

What did you do to make him look at you like you’re some necessary evil he has to tolerate. Why does he hold some unspoken grudge that's manifested itself into something you couldn't dream of ever comprehending.

But the thought of confronting Joel feels like standing on the edge of a cliff, staring down into a void that might swallow you whole.

So instead, you do what you've always done. You keep your distance, try to match his indifference with your own, and tell yourself it’s better this way.

You were young when the outbreak hit, six years old.

You’re sure that’s part of it. That that’s how Joel sees you, as some bumbling, naive child who’s more of a hassle than anything else.

Another mouth to feed, another back to watch, baggage.

You've been with him for almost seven months now, traveling side by side when you may have well been miles apart. Trekking through abandoned cities, overgrown highways, and every godforsaken patch of wilderness in between.

In the beginning, you did everything you could to prove him wrong.

You pushed yourself past your limits, hunted, scavenged, fought, kept up. You did everything that needed to be done without hesitation.

All to show that you were more than what he made you out to be. It never seemed to matter much.

After you lost your parents in the early days of the outbreak, it was just you and your sister. She taught you everything you know, taught you how to survive.

It's because of her that you know how to shoot a rifle, how to skin a rabbit, how to start a fire with nothing but sticks and dried moss, how to snap bones and locate which vital arteries bleed out the quickest.

It's because of her that you've been able to hone some sick skill in the maiming of clickers.

A skill you never thought you'd need to use on her.

You were supposed to be safe in the QZ. You weren't supposed to be fifteen years old, aiming a gun at the one person you had left.

Your own flesh and blood wasn't supposed to be the very first in a long list of red tallies under your belt.

It’s been years and you’ve still never forgotten that day. December 19th, 2012, the date burned into your brain like someone took a branding iron to the tissue.

You can’t count the amount of times you’ve been ripped from your sleep drenched in a cold sweat with the tail end of a scream tearing at the skin of your throat.

The image of what was left of your sister, slumped on the ground lifeless as her blood painted the wall behind her flashing behind your closed eyelids. The sound of her last labored breath ringing in your ears louder than any shotgun blast.

You ran that same night, with the weight of her death on your shoulders.

Your entire world spinning out around you as you clawed through barbed wire fencing, not caring where you were going or what would happen to you—just needing to escape.

There was nothing left for you to do after that but survive. And that’s what you did, for years, scraping by in a world that had already chewed you up and spit you out a mangled mess.

You learned how to be ruthless because of it.

How to harden yourself against the loss, the pain, the brutality. But there were cracks, too. Cracks you hid well, buried deep beneath layers of stubbornness and distance.

The endless days blurred into each other. Empty houses, hollow streets. A life reduced to scavenging, hiding, and the occasional, fleeting moment of human connection that inevitably ended in loss.

And then you found yourself with Joel.

You hadn’t exactly found him, though. More like crashed into his orbit by accident.

A few desperate days spent scavenging through the ruins of a small town, a chance encounter that left you both wary and unwilling to turn your backs.

But, inexplicably, you somehow became part of his traveling routine.

He wasn’t like any of the others you’d met before. At first, you thought he might be different. A man who seemed broken, but different nonetheless.

As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, you began to see the truth. Joel Miller wasn’t concerned with you. He didn’t need you. And, more than that, he didn’t want you around.

You didn’t know what to do with that.

It’s a bitter kind of irony. You’ve survived all this time completely on your own, fought tooth and nail to stay alive, but with him, you might just crumble.

Joel found a lodge house. It's a small, weathered place tucked away in the dense trees of the wood surrounding it.

He only deemed it suitable after an extensive perimeter check and a thorough sweep of the interior.

It's not much—just another run-down place in the middle of nowhere—but for the first time in what feels like forever, it’s a roof over your head for the night.

The walls are sturdy, though the windows are cracked and half of the floorboards creak like they're about to give out at any moment.

You explored the second floor alone, creeping through the desolate rooms and taking in all that was left behind.

Old family photographs covered in thick layers of dust, worn clothes riddled with holes still hung in the few closets you stumble across.

The oddest of all was an old jewelry box tucked away in a dresser draw, tarnished silver dull and muddy.

The sound of familiar footsteps comes from somewhere behind you. The door creaks open slowly.

Joel. Of course.

He clears his throat, the sound abrasive in the quiet of the house.

“Fire’s low,” he says, voice rough from its lack of use today.

You don’t turn around, not yet. You take the box in your gloved hand, running your fingers across the intricate design of the lid, touch trailing over winding vines and small roses.

“Okay,” you mutter, your voice coming out quieter than you intended. “I’ll grab some more wood later.”

Another beat of silence. Then, “It’s gettin’ cold out, I’ll go.”

Your fingers pause their ministrations, moving to flip the lid open. Empty.

“Suit yourself,” you reply after a moment, your tone just as neutral as his.

Joel doesn’t leave right away. You hear the floorboards groan beneath his weight, his presence lingering in the doorway.

You wonder what he’s waiting for, or if he’s waiting at all.

Finally, he speaks. “Don’t touch anything.”

With that he turns and leaves the room, you wait until you can’t hear his footsteps trailing down the stairs anymore to let out the scoff festering in your chest.

You snap the jewelry lid shut with a little more force than necessary. “Asshole.”

Joel's been gone for a while now. Longer than it takes to chop a few logs for firewood.

You came down from the upstairs a few minutes after hearing the tell-tale sound of the heavy door opening and closing. The main room is quiet, save for the soft crackle of the dwindling fire.

You're perched on an old armchair near the entrance, peering out the dirty window that has the best view of the treeline as you nervously pick the skin around your nails.

You tell yourself not to worry. He’s probably fine, he’s been doing this a lot longer than you. And if Joel is anything, it’s annoyingly competent.

Still, a nagging doubt itches at the back of your mind. It's been at least half an hour, maybe more.

You’re just about to grab your own pack and go looking for him when the front door creaks open.

Joel stumbles inside, the frigid evening air rushing in behind him before he slams the door shut. At first glance, he looks fine—no more haggard than usual.

But then you notice the way he favors his left side, the way his free hand is pressed against his ribs, blood seeping through his fingers and staining his torn undershirt.

You’re on your feet in an instant.

“Fuck,” you say, voice sharper than you expected. “What the hell happened?”

“Raiders.” Is the only explanation you get as he tries to brush past you like it’s nothing. The stiff way he moves and the tightens of his jaw betray him. “S’just a scratch.”

“Bullshit,” you snap, stepping in front of him and blocking his path to the fire. “Sit. Now.”

He gives you a look, one of those deep, withering glares you’ve seen him use to intimidate countless others into submission. But you stand your ground, chin raised and jaw set–defiant.

His stubbornness finally meeting its match in your own.

Finally, with a low growl of frustration, he drops onto the couch. “Happy now?”

"Not until you let me take care of that." You motion toward his side, where the blood is still spreading.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, lolling his head back to rest more heavily on the couch.

“Sure you are,” you snap, crossing the room to rifle through your bag. “And I’m the fucking Queen of England.”

"Said I’m fine," he bites through gritted teeth, but you’re already moving, heading back to him with the first aid kit from your pack.

"You want to bleed out on this ugly-ass couch? Be my guest," you shoot back, dropping to your knees in front of him. "Otherwise, shut up and let me help."

Joel surprisingly doesn’t argue any further, just sighs heavily and reluctantly sinks further into the couch cushions.

You push the front of his jacket open to slide it off his shoulders as gently as you can, peeling back the layer of his flannel next.

The smell of blood hits you immediately.

The gash is about five inches long, trailing the span of his ribcage. It’s deep—but not fatal—just an angry red and oozing blood.

Definitely not the simple 'scratch' he made it out to be.

Your stomach churns at the sight, but you push it down. No time for that.

“Jesus, Joel,” you mutter under your breath, reaching for the alcohol in your kit. “You really know how to underplay a situation, huh?”

He doesn’t respond, just watches you with those dark, calculating eyes of his. Always watching, always assessing.

It’s unnerving, but you focus on the task at hand, grabbing a clean cloth and soaking it with alcohol.

“This is gonna hurt,” you warn, though there’s a part of you that doesn’t mind the idea of causing him a little discomfort.

A petty, vindictive part that still stings from all the scorn he’s thrown your way.

“Just get it over with,” Joel grits out, his voice low and gravelly.

You don’t give him any more warnings as you wipe the soaked cloth over the wound. He flinches, a harsh curse slipping through clenched teeth, but he doesn’t pull away.

You work as quickly as you can, wiping away the blood and dirt with steady hands, your movements as gentle as possible given the situation.

You let out an annoyed huff when the torn fabric of his shirt gets in the way of your hands for a second time.

You lean back on your heels, glancing up at Joel. “You need to take your shirt off.”

Joel raises a brow at you, his lips pressing into a thin line. “That really necessary?”

“Yes, it’s necessary, Joel,” you huff, already losing patience. “Unless you want me to sit here and cut around every thread of this ratty thing while you bleed out, then by all means—”

He sighs heavily, cutting you off as he shifts forward and grabs the hem of his shirt. He tugs at the fabric, grunting in pain each time it strains his ribs.

You roll your eyes at how slow he’s moving, and your patience—already worn thin by the day's events—snaps.

“Jesus Christ, let me help,” you huff, reaching forward and grabbing the fabric.

Joel jerks back slightly, his hand shooting up to stop yours mid-motion. “I got it,” he growls, a sharp edge in his voice.

You glare at him, your hand still caught in his grip. His palm is calloused, his hold firm enough to make your pulse jump unexpectedly.

For a moment, the two of you just sit there, locked in a silent standoff.

Then he releases your hand and pulls the shirt over his head himself, wincing as the movement pulls at his side.

You wait with your arms crossed, trying to ignore the awkward flutter of nerves in your stomach as the fabric peels away to reveal his chest.

Joel’s broad, solid frame isn’t new to you. You’ve seen him shirtless before—brief glimpses when bathing in rivers or changing in run down houses between stops.

But this time feels different, more intimate somehow.

You’re staring, and you know it.

The firelight cast shadows over his skin, illuminating old scars, faint lines of muscle, the barely there jut of his stomach over the hem of his jeans.

You had been getting more game kills recently, two hunters are always better than one.

Joel clears his throat, dragging your focus back to the present. “You gonna gawk all night, or can we move this along?”

You snap out of it, scowling to cover your embarrassment. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

You finish cleaning the gash and grab the small needle and thread lying next to you.

“This’ll hurt worse than the alcohol,” you say, threading the needle easily.

Joel snorts, a rare sound. “Figures.”

The needle pierces his skin, and this time, you catch the smallest hitch in his breath. He doesn’t make a sound, but his jaw tightens, the veins in his neck standing out like cords.

His hands grip the edge of the couch hard enough that his knuckles turn white with it, but he doesn’t tell you to stop or slow down.

He’s too damn proud for that.

You shift closer, your knee brushing against his leg as you position yourself to work from a better angle. You feel his eyes on you, that intense, scrutinizing stare that makes your skin prickle.

“You’ve done this before,” Joel says after a moment, his tone less sharp than before. It’s not quite a question, more of an observation.

You shrug, keeping your hands steady. “Of course I have.”

“Who taught you?”

The question catches you off guard, Joel’s never shown much interest in what your life was before you met him. You glance up briefly, catching his gaze. There’s no malice there, no judgment—just curiosity.

You swallow hard, dragging your eyes back to stitches, half way done now. “My sister.”

You don’t elaborate and Joel doesn’t push.

Maybe it’s the sudden tightness in your tone or the look you know must be clouding your face that keeps him quiet.

You finish off the stitching, tearing the thin strand of thread with your hands before you’re leaning away again.

“Good as new,” you say, dabbing some more alcohol on your own hands to disinfect. “Try not to tear these open anytime soon.”

Joel leans back, strong arms spread across the back of the couch, his face unreadable as he peers down at the fresh stitching on his side.

“Could’ve done it myself,” he mutters, but the edge in his voice is gone, replaced with something softer, almost resigned.

You roll your eyes with a scoff, not even trying to hide your irritation as you rise from the floor. “Sure you could’ve, right before you passed out. You’re welcome by the way.”

You gather your supplies and turn to head back to your bag, but Joel’s voice stops you in your tracks.

“You’re always like this, y’know,” he says, and the words carry that same gravelly drawl, but there’s something new there—something heavier.

You pause, your hands tightening around the kit in your grasp. “Like what?”

“Pushy. Stubborn,” he replies, his tone cutting, though it lacks the usual venom. “Like you’ve got somethin’ to prove all the damn time.”

You whip around, your patience officially gone. “You think I’m stubborn?” you shoot back, your voice rising. “Coming from the guy who would rather bleed out on a fucking couch than admit he needs help?”

Joel’s jaw tightens, and his hands flex against the couch cushions, but you don’t stop. Not now. Not after months of this.

“I’ve been busting my ass since day one to prove that I’m not dead weight to you. I’ve fought for us, for you. And for what? Just to get more of your bullshit attitude?”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about,” Joel snaps, pushing himself upright despite the obvious strain it puts on his freshly stitched wound. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about me.”

“Because you won’t let me!” you fire back, stepping closer, your voice rising. “All you do is look at me like I’m some burden you can’t wait to get rid of.”

Joel’s glare sharpens, his lips parting as if to respond, but you cut him off.

You really can’t stop yourself now that you started, all the anger and frustration reaching a fever pitch hot enough to burst the tight lid you’ve kept on your emotions.

“If I’m such a hassle, why didn’t you just leave me back there, huh? Why didn’t you just walk away like I know you wanted to?”

Joel’s breathing is heavier now, his broad chest rising and falling as his dark eyes bore into yours.

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Then, he stands, and the sheer size of him forces you to tilt your chin up slightly to keep your glare fixed on his face.

“You think I wanted this, kid?” he growls, his voice low and strained, like he’s barely holding himself together. “You think I wanted to be responsible for someone else? To have someone else’s fuckin’ life on me?”

“Don’t call me kid,” you spit, shoving a finger into his chest, ignoring the way his jaw ticks at the contact. “I’m not a fucking kid.”

He scoffs, casting his eyes to the ceiling disbelievingly. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Fuck you, Joel,” you growl, fists clenching at your side. “If you hate me that much, why the hell are you still here? Why didn’t you tell me to fuck off the second you met me?”

“Because I couldn’t!” Joel snaps, booming voice filling the small space.

The confession slips out like it pains him. His fists clench at his sides, and for a moment, he looks like he might break something.

You’ve never been scared of Joel, even though you’ve seen first hand just how scary he can be.

Now, as he looms in front of you, eyes blazing and jaw working furiously beneath his skin, it’s the closest to scared you’ve felt.

“I’ve seen you out there,” he continues, tone low and dark. “You’ve got a fuckin’ death wish. You’re too damn stubborn to just stop, and I’m not gonna let you go so you can run off and get yourself fuckin’ killed.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, his words hitting far too close to home.

“I’m just trying to survive, Joel,” you snap, your voice shaking. “That’s what we do, isn’t it? Survive.”

“Survive,” Joel repeats bitterly, his gaze burning into yours. “That what you call it? Throwin’ yourself into every goddamn fight, gettin’ stabbed and shot right fuckin’ in front of me and expecting me to brush that shit off?”

You let out a humorless laugh, nodding your head exasperatedly. “Yes, yes I do expect you to just brush it off, because that’s what you always do.”

“Well I can’t,” he grates out, taking a step closer. “I can’t ‘cause despite whatever it is that you may think about me, I don’t hate you. I care about you too damn much and that's my goddamn problem.”

That shuts you up, your mouth snapping closed with a sharp click of your teeth as you stare at him, shocked.

Joel holds your gaze, lips pressed into a thin line. “That what you wanted to hear?”

It’s in that moment that the fire finally fizzles out, the dull hiss of it the only sound left in the room.

You’re quiet for a beat, stunned into silence. The heat of his anger, his frustration, it radiates off him, and you realize suddenly that this isn’t just about you.

It never was.

“Then show me,” you challenge softly, your heart pounding in your chest. “Show me that you don’t hate me.”

Joel’s eyes darken, his head cocking to the side as he searches your face for a sign. You don’t say anything, you only square your shoulders and raise your chin, your eyes just as hard as his own.

“I want you to prove it.”

The tension snaps like a rubber band stretched too far.

You shouldn’t—this shouldn’t—happen. Not like this. Not after everything that’s been said.

But when Joel’s lips crash against yours, hot and desperate and urgent, it makes everything blur into nothing.

It’s not gentle, not soft—this is anger and longing and frustration all wrapped into one. It’s messy, frantic, like a fight that’s been brewing for too long.

He grips your arm, pulling you closer, almost too roughly, but it feels like it’s everything you’ve both been avoiding.

His other hand moves to cup the back of your neck, grounding you as his lips press harder against yours, like he’s trying to pour everything he can’t say into this single moment.

You respond just as fiercely, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders as you kiss him back with all the pent-up emotion that’s been simmering beneath the surface.

The coarse hair of his beard scrapes against the skin of your chin deliciously, the scent of blood and firewood filling your senses as his arm wraps around your waist, dragging you impossibly closer.

Close enough that you can feel the wild beat of his heart booming against your chest.

You pull away for a second, breathless, both of you looking at each other, your eyes wide and pupils blown.

“Goddamn it,” Joel mutters, his voice thick with frustration and something else you can’t place. He presses his forehead to yours, the deep brown of his eyes dark than before. “What the hell are we doing?”

You don’t have an answer. You’re not sure if you even want one.

You reach for him again, arms looping around his neck to drag his mouth back to yours.

This kiss is nothing like the first, it isn’t a clash of frustration–it’s filthier, rawer. A near feral thing, all teeth and tongue, a surge of hunger and need that borders on violence.

Joel groans into your mouth, a low, guttural sound that sends a shiver racing down your spine. His teeth catch your bottom lip, pulling just hard enough to make you gasp.

He takes advantage of the sound, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to slide against yours with wet, messy desperation, like he’s trying to claim every inch of you.

The taste of him—salt and iron and something distinctly Joel—makes your head spin.

Your fingers knot into the chocolaty curls at the nape of his neck, surprisingly soft to the touch. His own hands roam the soft curves of your body, rough and insistent, like he can’t decide where he wants to touch you most.

“Joel—” His name spills from your lips like a plea, and he answers with a deep, guttural noise that sends heat pooling low in your belly. His tongue follows the path of his teeth, soothing the bites with lazy, deliberate strokes that make your knees weak.

You’re moving before you even realize it. Joel dragging you across the room and down onto the couch with him, using the strength he’s built up after all these years to manhandle you until your thighs are spread wide on either side of his lap.

“Joel,” you gasp again, rearing back enough to break the kiss. “Your stitches–”

He cuts you off with a sharp nip to the sensitive spot behind your ear, tearing a high whine from your throat. “Can hardly feel ‘em.”

You make a displeased sound, but it’s undermined by the way you tilt your head to give his wandering lips more room. His hands find a home on your hips, one slipping beneath your shirt to press against the soft skin of your stomach.

His fingers splay wide across your skin, his palm callused and rough. His pinky just barely brushes the underside of your breast, and you’re suddenly rearing back.

“Wait,” you say, your voice barely a whisper.

Joel’s hands immediately loosen their grip on your hips, his brows knitting together in concern. “You okay?”

You nod quickly, your heart pounding in your chest. “I just...I need to tell you something.”

His jaw tightens slightly, but he stays quiet, waiting for you to speak.

You take a beat, chewing at the skin of your bottom lip nervously.

“I’ve never...” You pause, swallowing hard as your cheeks heat up. “I’ve never done this before. I mean, I’ve never been with anyone like this.”

Joel pulls back slightly, his expression unreadable as he processes your words. For a moment, you think he might pull away completely, but then he exhales a long, slow breath.

“Christ,” he mutters, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You’re tellin’ me this now?”

“I didn’t exactly plan for this to happen,” you snap back, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “It’s not like I had the luxury of a high school sweetheart to pop my cherry out here.”

Joel’s gaze softens at your tone, and he reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “Hey, hey, I didn’t mean it like that.”

You glance away, suddenly feeling self-conscious under the weight of his stare. “I just...I wanted you to know. But I want this, Joel. I want you.”

His thumb stills against your cheek, and he swallows hard, his adam’s apple bobbing as he considers your words.

“I don’t...” He pauses, the most hesitant you’ve ever heard him. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

It’s the most vulnerable he’s been around you, round eyes shining with something so raw and so earnest it makes your heart ache in your chest.

“You won’t,” you insist, your voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in your stomach. “I trust you.”

Joel’s jaw clenches, and for a moment, he looks like he’s going to argue. But then he nods, his shoulders relaxing as he cups the back of your neck, pulling you closer until your foreheads touch again.

“At least let me do this right,” he murmurs, his voice so soft you almost don’t hear it. “Not here. Not on some goddamn couch.”

You blink up at him, surprised by the tenderness in his tone. “What?”

“Upstairs,” he says, his thumb tracing lazy circles against the side of your neck. “There’s a bed up there. It ain’t much, but it’s better than this.”

You can’t do anything but nod, your pulse racing beneath your skin fast enough to combat the cold night air seeping through the walls.

“Okay,” you say softly, voice barely above a whisper. “Upstairs.”

Joel stands, gently pulling you to feet and taking your hand in his. He leads you upstairs, each step feeling heavier with anticipation. The small bedroom is dimly lit, the faint glow of moonlight filtering through a broken blind.

The bed isn’t much—an old mattress on a worn frame, covered with a patched-up blanket—but it doesn’t matter.

Joel shuts the door behind you, the sound of the latch clicking into place sending a shiver down your spine.

“Last chance,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “You say the word, and we stop. No questions asked.”

Your throat tightens at the sincerity in his tone, the way he’s giving you an out even though you can see the strain in every line of his body, the way his hands flex at his sides like he wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you.

But you don’t hesitate.

You step closer, placing your hands on his bare chest. You bite back a smile at the goosebumps that break out all along his skin at your touch.

“Jesus, Miller,” you mumble teasingly, nails lightly scratching through the salt and pepper hair scattered along his chest. “How long are you gonna drag this out before you get it through your thick skull that I want to fuck you?”

"Christ." Joel huffs, shaking his head as the corners of his lips turn up in a small grin. “Like I fuckin’ said,” he starts, big hands kneading the meat of your hips. “Pushy.”

Joel walks you backward until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you fall onto it with a soft gasp.

He follows you immediately, crawling over you, his body covering yours, his weight a comforting pressure. “I’ll take care of you,” he murmurs, his lips brushing yours. “I’ll make it good for you, I swear.”

His fingers are everywhere, unbuttoning your shirt with a practiced ease that has your pulse racing. His lips follow the path of his hands, each touch a branding mark, each kiss leaving you wanting more.

“Pretty girl,” he mutters softly, pressing a kiss right between the valley of your breasts.

You feel his cock stirring against your stomach, and it makes the ache between your legs flare to life, the weight of it, the hardness of it, driving you crazy with need.

You want him so badly you can barely think straight, but when his lips graze over your collarbone, you can’t stop the quiet whine that escapes your throat.

Joel growls in response, a sound that resonates deep in his chest, and you know then that he’s as far gone as you are. His hands slide down to the waistband of your pants, tugging them down your legs with urgency.

As your skin is exposed to the cool air, you can feel the heat of his gaze on you, like he’s memorizing every inch of you.

“You’re fuckin' perfect,” he mutters, his voice thick with desire.

Joel's hands find your thighs, parting them with a deliberate slowness that makes your breath catch in your throat. He positions himself between your legs, his body weight pressing you into the mattress, his chest rising and falling with the same frantic rhythm as yours.

The anticipation is almost unbearable as his fingers trace the line of your panties, the fabric damp with want.

“Jesus, she’s drippin’ for me already,” he mutters, voice rough, as he slides the material to the side, his thumb brushing over the sensitive swell of your clit.

Your body jerks at the contact, a desperate sound escaping your lips, but Joel doesn’t relent.

“You touch yourself down here, baby?” he asks, working tortuously slow circles over your clit.

"Please," you beg, your hands grasping at the sheets, pulling at them as if they can anchor you to the moment.

He looks up at you, his gaze dark and filled with an intensity that makes your stomach tighten. “Asked you a question, honey.”

You whine, high and loud in your throat as your thighs clench desperately around his wrist. “Yes, I touch myself.”

Joel’s lips curl into a satisfied grin, sliding his thick index finger through the messy wetness to slip inside your clenching hole, making you gasp. Your hands grasp at the sheets, pulling at them as if they can anchor you to the moment.

“Good girl,” he breathes, eyes darkening at the broken moan that bursts from your lips. “When’s the last time you touched yourself?”

Your brain feels hazy as you search for the answer, pleasure clouding your mind slow and sweet as molasses. “A–a few nights ago.”

Joel hums idly, slipping a second finger alongside the first. The stretch has you whining, his fingers a lot more to take than your own.

Your hands come up to claw at his shoulders, relishing in the way his broad muscle ripples and shifts beneath your greedy palms.

“Joel,” you whine, hips canting down against his hand impatiently.

He just shushes you softly, free hand brushing soothing circles along the skin of your inner thigh. “I know, honey,” he mutters, the pace fingers speeding up. “But I gotta get her nice and ready if you wanna take my cock.”

The gush of your pussy around his fingers is loud in the stillness of the room, a filthy wet noise that burns your ears each time he plunges them into your aching hole.

“I am ready.” Your breath hitches as your body begins to tremble beneath him. “Please, Joel—fuck—please, I need—”

“Need what?” His voice is thick with dark amusement, but there's a hunger in his eyes that has your stomach twisting. “Tell me, baby. What do you need?”

“I need you,” you rasp, your nails digging little crescent moons into his skin, your body pleading for release. “I need you inside me.”

Your hands grab at his hair, pulling him back up to meet your lips in a feverish kiss.

The pressure of his body on yours, the way his hard cock grinds against your trembling thigh, drives you to the brink of madness.

Your hands trail down his chest, past the waistband of his jeans, finally reaching the bulge straining against the fabric.

Joel groans when you rub him through his pants, feeling his cock twitch in response. He pulls back, breathing heavily, his lips curling into a smirk.

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice thick with lust. “You want my cock in this pretty pussy? Want me to show you how good it feels to be fucked?”

“God, yes,” you answer, desperation lacing your tone as your hand moves to unbuckle his jeans. “Want it so bad.”

He lets you push his pants down just enough to free his cock, and you gasp, your eyes drawn to the way his length stands, thick and hard, just waiting for you. The tip flushed an angry red, drooling pre-come onto the scratchy sheets.

Joel pulls his fingers from you, using his hands spreading your legs wider, positioning himself between them with such careful precision that you can barely stand it.

The head of his cock drags through the mess between your legs, slipping all the way down till it catches on your soaked entrance.

Joel pauses, looking down at you, waiting for your signal, but the only answer you give is a pleading whimper, your hands pulling at his shoulders, urging him to move.

His mouth captures yours once again as he slowly slides into you, the stretch of his cock filling you steadily, making you gasp into his mouth.

The slow burn of him carving a place for himself inside of you is almost too much, your body trembling as you adjust to the feeling of him.

“Fuck, baby,” Joel mutters against your lips. “You’re so tight, so fuckin’ perfect for me.”

As he sinks deeper into you, his thick cock finally buried to the hilt inside of you, the feeling is overwhelming. You gasp, nails digging into his back as the pain slowly shifts into pleasure.

Joel groans into your mouth, his hands moving to your hips, guiding you as he rocks gently against you.

The rhythm is slow at first, deliberate, as if he's savoring every inch of you. Your body quivers beneath him, every inch of your skin tingling with sensation. You clutch at him, your legs tightening around his waist, needing more, wanting more.

"That's it," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "Take it, baby."

You screw your eyes shut tightly, trying to steady yourself as he thrusts deeper, harder. The angle shifts just enough to make your breath catch in your throat.

Every stroke feels like it’s hitting the deepest part of you, sparking heat in places you never knew could burn so hot.

"Fuck," you gasp, the sensation too overwhelming, too much in the best way. "Joel... please..."

"Please what, sweetheart?" He pulls back slightly, teasing you with a slow roll of his hips before driving back in with a grunt.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, urging him to move faster, harder. "Don’t stop," you breathe, your voice trembling. "I need you to fuck me, Joel. Faster. Harder. Please."

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as Joel finally picks up the pace, each thrust harder and deeper than the last.

Your back arches off the bed, chest pressing flush to his as your body coils tighter and tighter, already so close to the edge.

Joel reaches up to take your wrist in his, dragging your hand down to press flat against your lower stomach.

“Feel that?” he asks breathlessly, the speed of his hips knocking the dingy bed frame into the wall with every thrust. “You feel how deep I am?”

His own hand blankets yours, pushing down so you can feel the way his cock punches up against your palm on the next thrust.

Your pussy clenches desperately around him at the feeling, your slick lips dropping open on a loud moan.

You can barely hold on. The heat in your stomach tightens, coiling painfully as your free hand scrambles to find purchase on his skin. "I can't—I'm gonna—"

He grits his teeth, his jaw clenched as he drives deeper, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "Come for me, baby," he growls, his voice dark and commanding. "Let me feel it."

With a strangled cry, you finally release, your body clenching around him, every nerve igniting in a white-hot explosion of pleasure.

You’re lost in it, your world spinning, your senses overwhelmed by the sensation of Joel’s body pounding into yours, the way his cock brushes against that sweet spot behind your clit enough to make sparks go off behind your eyelids.

Joel pulls out of your velvety warmth, hand coming up to fist his dripping length until he’s bowing over you tightly and coming with a deep groan of your name.

His release paints your stomach with milky strands of white, rope after rope of warm come claiming you in a way no one has before.

He finally collapses against you with one last shuddering breath, both of you breathing heavily, your chests rising and falling together in the quiet aftermath.

For a few moments, neither of you speaks, the only sounds are the soft creak of the bed and the quiet hum of your racing hearts.

Joel rests his head against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin, and you can feel the tension begin to slip away, the weight of everything that’s happened between you both settling into something new—something different, but still there.

Your hand slips down the sweaty expanse of your stomach, your fingers swiping through the sticky mess of his release curiously.

“Christ, quit that,” Joel groans, tearing his eyes away from the sight to press his forehead against your shoulder.

“Why?” you hum, brow raised in amusement as you drop your hand back to the mattress. “Can you even get it up again?”

Joel pinches your side hard enough to make you squeal, your body flinching away from him as a surprised laugh bubbles from your chest.

“Watch it,” he warns, though there’s no bite to his tone. You only laugh in response.

The two of you settle into a comfortable silence, wrapped in each other as crickets chirp from outside the window.

Then Joel clears his throat, fingers idly tracing different shapes on the skin of your hip as he gathers the courage to speak.

A circle, a square, a diamond, a circle, a heart, a heart, a heart.

“I’m…” he starts, trailing off softly. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a real fuckin’ prick, and you didn’t deserve it. You never did.”

You turn your own gaze to his chest, hand coming up so you can trail your fingers along the jagged scar decorating his shoulder. Your touch featherlight over the rough patch of skin.

All the anger seeps from your body, a heavy weight gone until you feel so light you could float off the mattress and into the cold night air.

“It’s okay,” you whisper softly, so soft you think it gets lost in the quiet darkness of the room. “I understand now.”

And for the first time in what feels like forever, you both just lay there, tangled in each other, not worrying about the world outside, about the chaos that waits.

Just you, him, and the soft glow of moonlight.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

mini nat's note: should i add joel to my taglist...i do kinda want to write more for him in the future but i'm not sure yet...lmk chickens <3 bee tee dubs sorry the ending absolutely sucks i could not for the life of me figure out how to end this LMAO

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jjunieworld · 2 days ago

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BODY ELECTRIC ˒˒ 투바투

❝ 𝗶 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝗲𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗰, 𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𓈓 𝗍𝗑𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗏𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗈 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌!

p ‎⸝⸝⸝ 투바투 𝑥 fem!reader ꔛ g ‎⸝⸝⸝ headcannons, video links, smut, established relationship ── dom!txt, sub!reader, mostly unprotected sex, oil / lube, various kinks (breeding & daddy kink hehe), creampies, housewife!reader / traditional gender roles, food play?, some mean & hard dom elements because i truly can’t help myself, some roleplay, probably others than i’m missing ╱ ❨ 𝓶.list ❩

✉️ ⦂ never posted twt links before but this was kinda fun lmao ^^ i might post more sometime soon. like maybe an enha (hyung line) one?? hmm… not completely sure. anyways, i hope you enjoy!!

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ︵͡ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

𓍼 ˋ✮ YEONJUN

ʬʬʬ — him fucking you so good that your cum just spills out of you. would angle you in a way that didn’t let any escape until he’s done with you and filled you up completely. he would start fucking you again just at the sight of how messy he made you, shushing you and telling you how your spent pussy could take another round. 100% has a breeding kink.

ʬʬʬ — hates your bad attitude and how he constantly has to fuck the brattiness out of you so you remember your place and who’s in charge. slaps your ass to make sure you’re listening to him and to punish you for talking back in the first place.

ʬʬʬ — like soobin i feel like he would like to use oil too! loves watching how easily his cock slides in your needy pussy and swallows it whole. also loves taking you missionary so he can see your pretty face all twisted up in pleasure!!

ʬʬʬ — idk what it is about this but it’s just so yeonjun to me?? would eat you out after to taste the slight bubblegum flavor and then would continue eating the cum-covered lollipop like he wasn’t just fucking you with it.

𓍼 ˋ✮ SOOBIN

ʬʬʬ — would beg you to dress up as his favorite anime and video game characters!! the two of you would roleplay a little before he’s fucking you and filling you up with his hot and sticky cum (>人<)

ʬʬʬ — loves seeing you in lingerie but hates the fact that it gets in his way!! it makes him too hard and he just wants to fuck the shit out of you without having to pull back straps and lace. definitely would keep on the thigh high stockings tho, it’s his favorite!

ʬʬʬ — honestly you should know to not wear short skirts around him… immediate hard-on and he’s fucking you against whatever surface is the closest to him. doesn’t even care that you were only quickly dropping by to give him something, you’re not leaving for the rest of the day.

ʬʬʬ — the type to drench you in oil so he can watch the way you glisten all prettily while getting dumb on his cock!! loves seeing your shiny tits bounce, bonus if you have nipple piercings. i feel like he would be the type to record it all so he can get off to it again later. cowgirl is for sure his favorite position for you!!

𓍼 ˋ✮ BEOMGYU

ʬʬʬ — interrupting him playing his game was a bad idea… of course he’s gonna bend you over his gaming chair and fuck you. leaves his mic on and let’s all his discord friends hear how much of a slut you are. (/ω＼)

ʬʬʬ — love love loves sitting back and having you fuck yourself on him. gets off to your pretty little moans and the sight of his cock disappearing inside you.

ʬʬʬ — cuddling with him always turns into you feeling his bulge against your ass, to him sliding his cock inside of you “i just need to feel you,” to him pulling your hips towards his so that he can fuck you. you’re constantly sticky with his cum!!

ʬʬʬ — this. definitely how most of your nights would go when you’re super horny for him. would laugh in your ear at your whines for his cock and would tell you to get yourself off on his thigh or bulge instead.

𓍼 ˋ✮ TAEHYUN

ʬʬʬ — you begging him to fuck you without the condom on,,, he’s always so careful and you just need to feel him inside you completely, feel the way his thick load fills you up and drips out of you!! you don’t want him to pull out ♡

ʬʬʬ — him teasing your needy and wet clothed pussy. just loves how wet he can get you without even sticking his cock inside of you.

ʬʬʬ — quick morning fuck before the two of you go to the gym!! you told him “just the tip…” but you both can’t control yourselves! ended up going later that morning hehe

ʬʬʬ — his little housewife (⋟﹏⋞) you let him do whatever he wants to you whenever he wants. taehyun wants you to suck up off while you’re making dinner? you’re on your knees with his cock shoved down your throat in an instant.

𓍼 ˋ✮ HUENINGKAI

ʬʬʬ — kai needing you so bad that there isn’t even enough time to put his cock in you. would completely miss the mark and end up fucking your thighs instead!! you’d go crazy from only having stimulation at your clit and not where you need him the most. would leave your thighs covered with his cum while he bends you over for more. this video as well hehe

ʬʬʬ — so needy while he’s trying to practice. his long fingers aren’t enough so now he his to fuck you with his cock too… definitely didn’t finish practicing after this >///<

ʬʬʬ — would always have you sitting on his face. watching a movie? he can eat you out like a starved man and watch the movie at the same time. always wants to be pleasing you in some type of way.

ʬʬʬ — you’d be a good girl for daddy and let him fuck your wet pussy right? so wet that kai’s big cock keeps slipping right out!! loves hearing your moans and repeatedly asks you how much you like daddy’s cock. loves how you beg him to put it back in and fuck you deeper.

∿ [ continue on to . . . masterlist , taglist , request ] ︵͡ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

🏷️﹙ want to be added to my permanent taglist? click here ﹚ @jjunberry @gothgyuu @gyuuberries @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @riaawr @nxzz-skz @jakeswifez @ghstzzn @jenn-ieverse @rapmonie2047 @aaa-sia @won4me @skaterhoon @usnve @jeonghaniehaee @todorokiskitten @xylatox @lovzwoni @minaateez @onlyhyunjin @lilyuwon @aduh0308 @chaconadine @who-tf-soddhi @americanojake @missychief1404 @in-somnias-world @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @riribelle @hyukascampfire

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azzibuckets · 2 days ago

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you’re so good though [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: pazzi in the bahamas. that’s it

Paige could care less about the Baha Mar MVP trophy weighing in her hands. As soon as Azzi accepted her All-Tournament trophy, she was launching herself at her best friend. “You’re gonna crush the hardware,” Azzi giggled, but she buried her chin in Paige’s shoulder anyways.

Paige squeezed a hand on the younger girl’s hip. “All-tournament team. Not too bad for your third game back.” In all honesty, not too bad didn’t even cut it. Azzi had shined on the court tonight, scoring a whopping 18 points to keep them in the game after a rocky third quarter. Seeing her jog down the court, confidence etched into her eyebrow as she sunk basket after basket had made Paige’s heart thump even more. She’d waited years for this, to play in the same court as Azzi, and the time was finally here.

Azzi rolled her eyes. Lifting her jersey to wipe sweat from her forehead, she glanced down at her trophy, happiness shining in her eyes as her dimple deepened. “Your ass almost didn’t get MVP tonight.”

“I don’t wanna hear nothing,” Paige grumbled, punching Azzi’s shoulder playfully. “Geno’s gonna give me hell about those turnovers later.”

Azzi laughed and drew Paige in as someone approached them for a picture. “Best player in the nation,” Paige crowed, throwing her arm around the dark haired girl’s shoulder.

As they walked to the press room, Azzi nudged her knuckles against Paige, their signature subtle reminder of each other’s presence. The blonde was still flushed from the game, her sweaty baby hairs sticking to the nape of her neck, but Azzi still thought her girlfriend looked as beautiful as ever. Paige looked up, her blue eyes bright beneath her lashes, and smiled one of her goofy smiles, allowing herself to intertwine her pinky with Azzi’s for a brief moment. She let go before anyone could see, but both of them looked away and blushed at the clandestine contact.

“You fools are so obvious,” Ice muttered as she walked past them. “Y’all better tone it down for the press conference or CD’s gonna be on y’all’s asses.” (Azzi did, in fact, not tone it down)

As the press conference started, Azzi yawned. Most of the questions were directed at Paige, and she didn’t even mind. She was ready to go to sleep after a long day. Azzi hadn’t even registered that the reporter had directed a question at either of them until Paige was turning to her with a smirk. “You got it.”

“Nope, you got it,” Azzi responded, knowing she had no idea what the reporter had just asked.

“Nah, I’ve been talking too much.” Paige shifted forward, placing her elbows on the table, as Azzi knocked her knee into hers under the table.

“Nope, you got it,” Azzi repeated. She lifted her hand and rested it on Paige’s back, trailing her fingers and smirking to herself as Paige shivered. “You’re so good, though, please continue,” she teased, her eyes running down Paige’s flexing bicep. She swallowed - Paige really had been in the gym over the summer.

“Nope. You haven’t done media in two years.” Paige said, jerking away from Azzi’s touch. The heat of the younger girl’s fingers sliding down her jersey and flirting with the skin at her waist was becoming too much.

“Seriously, come on,” Azzi argued, fighting to control her face. The daggers Paige sent her way meant that she’d be in for it later, but she didn’t care. Flustered Paige was her favorite Paige.

The older girl shook her head, her stare sharpening as she pressed her foot against Azzi’s ankle in warning.

Azzi sighed in relief as another reporter began talking, but Paige’s hand landing on her thigh before slowly sliding off her knee reminded her that she was still in deep shit.

Later that night, when they returned to the hotel to change before dinner, Paige’s hands were on Azzi before the door had even closed behind them. “You thought you were being cute and shit, huh,” Paige said gruffly, sliding her hands around the waistband of Azzi’s shorts.

“Nope.” Azzi popped the p, hands reaching up to slowly undo Paige’s hair from her ponytail. Running her hand through the blonde strands, she fluttered her lashes at her girlfriend. “Just being kind.”

Paige’s fingers danced across Azzi’s ribs, pushing up her jersey to feel the warmth of her bare skin. “18 points and the ego got to your head, hmm?”

“5 turnovers and your ego’s still big,” Azzi retorted, shifting her thigh between Paige’s legs and pressing up. The blonde’s breath hitched at the contact.

Paige’s eyes flared. “You brought a turtleneck?”

“We’re in the fucking Bahamas, dumbass. ‘Course I didn’t.”

Paige smiled smugly. “You’re gonna need to buy one after this.”

“Paige, we have dinner in ten minutes,” Azzi retorted, but nevertheless tilted her neck for Paige to skim her lips across.

“Ten minutes is all I need,” Paige murmured, teeth colliding with Azzi’s collarbone.

Azzi’s mouth parted slightly. The little pants escaping her lips were making Paige go feral, and her hips pushing up against the blonde’s didn’t help one bit. “We can’t.”

“Who says?”

“This is my family we’re making wait,” Azzi argued, tangling her hand in Paige’s hair.

“Are you tryna convince me or yourself?” Paige smirked, now peppering kisses across Azzi’s shoulder.

“Paige.”

“Alright, alright.” Paige let go of Azzi’s hips and stepped back, her lips shiny with spit and her pupils blown over with want.

Azzi giggled at the glazed over look in the blonde’s eyes. She pressed a kiss to Paige’s mouth. “Later, okay?” She bit at Paige’s earlobe before drawing back with a coy smile. “I’ll let you do whatever you want to me, MVP.”

“Fuck.”

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #pazzi #uconn wbb #wcbb #fluff #paige bueckers x azzi fudd #paige x azzi #fic #blurb

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moon-us-sun · 3 days ago

Photo

Sometimes my mind feels like this.

I can feel when a storm is about to come and even though it’s scary, it almost feels magical

My heads a mess, I know that

I know that I will forever have that part in me that hurts and cries

That’s in search for a love of a man that never loved me. That never showed me what it was like to be loved right.

He did his part to make sure I was alive but never the part to make sure that I lived.

My heads a mess, I know

But if you listen closely you would hear the way I feel about this world

How I’m amazed of the beautiful colors of fall in the trees and how I wish I could sleep on a cloud

You would be able to see thru my eyes the beauty of the people

The way my mom has freckles and her wrinkles makes her so much more beautiful

The way my nephews smiles even with imperfect teeth making my heart hurt of love

If you could see and feel

If you could just stay, just after the storm

You would find me, once the fog died out

A younger me

8 years old longing for a love I can’t find in my house

For a mom who can’t stop working and a dad who just doesn’t give a shit

He use to

I don’t know what happened but something in him stop trying, it turned off like a switch and he forgot to be a father

But I remember

The only time he ever made us breakfast

A bag of grapes and we went to the store and bought a nesquick milk

The way he used to kiss my mom and hold her hand

The time she would dance with us and how when he was drunk we would find the old him again

The one that cared.

How he use to sing to me and tell me he loved me

He would try to hug me and quiet frankly time passed by and I didn’t want the drunk him, I took the old him for granted

I took it all for granted

My head is a complete mess, I know

But I can’t help and think of the amazing things there is to see out in this world

Of where I could be if I just left what I could see

When the storm rolled over into my head and it gets cloudy

When the grass is swaying and the trees are dancing

When the clouds are dark yet beautiful

You’ll see what it’s like to be in my head

On the head of a women who just wants to live

To be more like her sister

To not care as much

But is that really what I want

Im telling you I know, my Mind is a mess

In most cases I can’t even keep my thoughts straight and all I know is that everything hurts and everything is felt Deeply here

When the storm is over and the sun comes out I’m at the beach

Listening to the waves and playing in the sand

Waiting for the next storm, to mess with my crazy head.

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yourbasicqueerie · 2 days ago

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can we hear ur lilia headcanons... as many as possible i am starving

be careful another what you ask lol, these r some of my fave ones:

( i am and will be ignoring her death. try me hoes)

• that woman can cook, she’ll make you a MEAAANNNN pesto alla trapanese and don’t get me started on traditional sicilian dishes. can’t bake for shit tho.

• she sews most of her clothing herself.

• that woman has had some questionable gigs to rank up some cash, some of those being:

- a history teacher who made some questionable comments about vampires and their uselessness in actual fighting ( “you know kids, vampires are absolutely shit heads, you think they are going to be these big scary people but noooo, terrible at hand in hand combat too” . )

-a hand reader at various kid parties. the amount of times she’s had to tell moms that no, she will not know the gender of their child is astounding ( . )

-a jazz singer at some dingy bar ( she got approached by a big time producer once, but refused to do anything with him after he made some off handed comment about her hair)

• talking about hair, she’s very very proud of her curls, she might not be keen on chemical peels as much ( smth jen later got her on) but if you want to talk hair care? she’s your girl

• after she got kicked out of her place, she moved into agatha’s house and took over the couch. though she will never say it, the couch is the most comfortable thing she has ever slept on ( maybe even the MAAASSIVE bed she must have had in her young days)

• talking about her young days, even though she was not from a royal family, YOU CANNOT TELL ME she wasn’t somehow related to the médici family, i mean LOOK AT HER!!!

• she owns a small artemisia gentilieschi portrait of herself she commissioned while at florence.

• her favorite colour, contrary to popular opinion, is not yellow, but orange

• she sings in the shower, beautifully and loudly so. ( can’t exaggerate the loud part, you can hear her from the whole house, the coven does not complain tho, they acc quite like the everything shower days, it means they get at least 40 minutes of lilia’s singing)

• when drunk, lilia is so chatty and touchy, agatha is not keen on it, but rio loves it, their karaoke duos are astonishing too.

• she laughs the loudest between all of them

• agatha full on laid all her mommy issues in this woman ( now, if that is to say that if she and agatha were to have sex, agatha would call her mommy, or if agatha sees lilia as a motherly figure is up to you)

• the whole of the coven depends on her, if lilia is gone then they all fall apart

• she is a sucker for an aldi, would spend hours grocery shopping if she could.

• wine enthusiast lilia calderu

• polyglot lilia calderu

#your basic queerie #agatha all along #lilia calderu #patti lupone #agatha harkness #agatha x rio #rio vidal #kathryn hahn #laa ( lilia all along)#lilia my beloved #lilia calderu x reader

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octospace · 3 days ago

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Of all the weird takes about Arcane one that stands out to me it’s the misinterpretation of Ekko now that timebomb it’s canon. People saying Ekko lost everything by losing Jinx it’s the craziest shit I saw about it.

My little man created a shelter for every kid that, because of Silco, became an orphan. Found a motivation to fight amid all the grief of losing Benzo, Vander, Vi, Powder, Claggor and Mylo all on the same day. He was able to move on even knowing that Powder/Jinx was Silco hitman and worked exploding his enemy’s which includes the firelights (the community he devoted his life to take care of). He lost her? Probably because she left, but his character it’s so much bigger than that, it’s weird to reduce him to Jinx unfortunate doomed crush.

#arcane jinx #arcane #arcane season 2 #ekko arcane #arcane spoilers #timebomb #jinx arcane

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xoxochb · 1 day ago

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sorry for the spam of fics today this is my last one :)

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

you’re surely about to die like this, you know it.

your hands are turning a bright shade of white from how harshly they’re gripping the sheets beneath you, and by now you’re practically gagging on every tear entering your mouth, and your legs are burning and percy can’t seem to unlatch himself from your throbbing cunt.

his tongue is shoved inhumanly deep inside of you, working your core mercilessly as you cry and tug at his raven locks to get him to give you a moment to fucking breathe at the very least. and if this wasn’t enough to overstimulate you, he will occasionally slip three at the very least, fingers into your hole, making sure to curl them in just the right way to make you writhe along him.

and not only are you a mess, but he may be even more than you. your juices are running over his chin relentlessly, every once in a while he pulls back for only a second to lick himself clean before, similar to a leech, his mouth attaches itself to your clit yet again.

“perce- I- plea- I can’t…” you can’t speak, that’s the issue.

though you presume that even if you could, percy wouldn’t seem to care because he was to busy having his own separate make out session with your clit instead of you. he’s absolutely obliterating you, leaving for a wreck to fix in the morning. your face has become damp from your continuous streaming tears, your moans and whimpers reverberating throughout the cabin and every muscle in your senses on fire from the over-ecstatic sensation running through you.

percy’s hands hold tightly to your thighs, assuring to keep them parted as far as possible as he ruthlessly eats you out. your gut is a new inferno— turned to the maximum heat setting possible, similar to your poor cunt that’s been barbarously devoured by your boyfriend.

“gonna- perce, I’m-” shit you’re dripping again. “gonna come.”

your orgasm hits you viciously, you know now for sure that you won’t be able to speak a single word in the morning, your voice box is utterly destroyed. percy doesn’t yet give you up, he tongue finds a deeper portion inside of you and works it until he can’t breathe himself and pulls away with a malicious smirk.

he licks his lips clean of your arousal, wiping his chin with the back of his hand before he lifts himself up to your level to be face-to-face with you. what a fucking sadist he is.

“are- I- are you trying to kill me?”

#xoxochb #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo #percy series #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson smut #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #riordanverse x reader #riordanverse #riordan universe

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lovegalor333 · 10 hours ago

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can you do a short little smut when paige is overstimulating the reader??? i would love that and also i love your writings

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

i can do it better

summary: paige finds your vibrator and asks you to show her how you use it

content warnings: nsfw smut overstimulation sex toy fingering munch p squirting

“Care to explain this?” You hear your girlfriends voice call out to you from your bedroom. You’re in the bathroom getting ready for bed, you were exhausted after a long day of classes and wanted nothing more than to close your eyes and fall into a deep sleep. “Explain what, baby?” You call back with a roll of your eyes, Paige couldn’t see you thankfully, you’re sure she’d have a few choice words for your brattiness but you were tired and didn’t want the hassle of whatever Paige was talking about.

“This.” Paiges voice is closer now and you flick your eyes up to the mirror in front of you, to see your girlfriend leaning against the bathroom door frame, a cheeky smirk on her face and to your dismay the small purple, bullet shaped vibrator that lived in your nightstand, in her hand.

Your cheeks flushed a deep claret as you spun around, reaching out the snatch the toy off Paige but she has great reflexes and she’s a lot taller than you, “Uh uh.” She shakes her head, holding the vibrator up and and out of your reach. “Were you snooping in my drawers?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. “No, I was looking for melatonin. Now tell me why you have this? This can’t do what I do.” Paige says and she presses the small button and the bullet begins to vibrate in her hand and you feel your temperature begin to rise.

Sex wasn’t a taboo subject for you and Paige but you’d never spoke about masturbation and the fact she had your toy in her hand made you feel slightly dizzy. Truth be told, since you’ve been together you’ve hardly used that thing but sometimes Paige plays away and this summer she was hardly in Connecticut and a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do.

“Can you turn that off?” You ask seriously, now frowning at Paige, embarrassment more than anything creeping in. “Tell me why and how you use it?”

“Paige-”

“Just tell me.” And she places the vibrating toy against your left nipple, the thin material of her t-shirt you wear to sleep not doing much to buffer the sensation. “When you’re away…and I…” You struggle to speak between Paiges intense eye contact, your nipple being attacked and the awkwardness of the subject you don’t know what to say. “Don’t be embarrassed baby.” Paiges voice is soft and sensitive, a stark contrast to the look on her face. “When you’re away and I’m horny, I use it sometimes.” “How do you use it?” “For Gods sake Paige, how do you think?” You’re losing patience now and suddenly you’re no longer tired. Paige is being a tease and it’s pissing you off.

“I don’t know. Maybe you’d like to show me.” Paige taunts with a raise of her brows and before you can detest, you’re over her shoulder, hand on your ass.

Paige throws you down onto your bed and hands you the vibrator, “Show me how you make yourself cum.” The husk of her voice and the stance she was in, looking down at you on your back made you ache.

You pressed the vibrator to your clit, over your lace thong, the initial sensation making your thighs shudder. Paiges gaze doesn’t falter for a second, you can practically feel her eyes burning into you, “What do you think about when you’re doing this?”

“You. Your fingers- shit- how they feel inside me.” The wet patch inbetween your legs is growing with each buzz of the toy and you need more. You pull the lace material to the side but before you can reposition the bullet, Paige is on the bed, her hand on top of yours, stopping you from pleasuring yourself. “I thought you wanted me to show you.”

“I did but it’s pissing me off. I’m gonna show you just why you don’t need this thing.” She rasps, taking the vibrator from your hand but she doesn’t turn it off. Instead she uses one hand to hold your panties to the side before dragging the toy through your damp folds. You buck your hips up, desperate for more. More of Paige. Fuck the vibrator.

Paige continues to tease and taunt your dripping cunt, pressing the vibrator to your clit before dragging it down to your hole, “Paige, please. Stop teasing.” You groan but with the way she’s looking at you, eyes hooded and determined, you know for a fact she’s not going to listen to a word you say.

“Just be a good girl for me, yeah?”

You whimper as Paige turns up the intensity and you jolt in shock, “You can be a good girl, right?” Paige asks as she circles your clit causing arousal to drip out of you. “Y-yes.” You choke out and Paige spreads your legs, a knee on each of your thighs, holding them in place.

“Fuck, you look so good spread out for me like this baby.” Paige grunts and she lets a blob of spit out of mouth and it lands on your cunt, you whine at the feeling. “Ne-need more, P.”

Paige misinterprets your pleads for her…or chooses to ignore then and further increases the intensity of the vibrator, pressing it hard and firm on your swollen clit. The band in your stomach tightens and your legs begin to shake beneath your girlfriends knees, “Fuck Paige, I’m about to- ugh shit- I’m about to cum.” You moan, eyes rolling back in your head as the band threatens to snap but the soft buzzing and intense vibrations come to a halt, “I’m not watching you cum with something that isn’t me.” Paige says matter of factly and your words are lodged in your throat as she pushes two fingers inside of you with ease, “Oh fuck!” You gasp as she hammers in and out of you, her long fingers knocking into the gummy spot with each inward movement.

Without warning, Paige adds another finger into the mix and you bite down on your lip as she stretches you out, “Shit Paige, don’t stop.” You beg, reaching down to grab onto her wrist to ensure she doesn’t rob you of another orgasm. But Paige simply bats your hand away, linking it with her free one.

You feel yourself contracting around Paiges fingers and know you’re close so you move your hips in circular motions, guiding her hand to hit all your favourite places. Paige brings her thumb to your clit, starting off in gentle swipes before she’s full on pressing and pinching your sensitive spot.

“Shit Paige, right there!” You cry out as the feeling overwhelms you and your body writhes and jerks beneath her and you come undone all over her fingers. Your heart rate is rapid as Paige pulls her fingers out of you and you whimper as she slides them across your folds and over your clit, spreading your slick as she goes, “I love how messy you are.” She purrs, taking her fingers into her mouth and sucking on them, moaning at the taste of you on her tongue.

You watch in awe as her tongue flicks and swirls around her sticky fingers, “You’re so hot.” You breathe out and Paige just smirks before she leans down, mouth inches away from your soaked cunt and she blows out two sharp breaths making you shiver.

Still sensitive from your orgasm, your moan is throaty and rough as Paige buries her face into your cunt. She’s devouring you like a woman starved and you’re her favourite meal. With every flick of her tongue, your back arches of the bed, just pushing her face further into you. Her nose nudges your clit as she slips her tongue inside, “Fuck Paige! Pleasepleaseplease!” You babble, not sure what your begging for, your head spins at every sensation and when her teeth graze your clit and fingers slip back inside, you damn near lose it.

Her movements are insatiable and unrelenting and you squeeze her hand in yours as it all begins to feel too much. “I- I can’t Paige.” You choke out as tears begin to fill in your water line. “You can.” She mumbles against you and the vibrations from her voice sent jolts of ecstasy through your body.

This feeling was different from any you’ve felt before, Paiges fingers driving into you at a pace so fast, all you could hear was the sordid sounds of your wetness. Her tongue and lips working overtime as they sucked and swirled at your clit. The ache between your legs was crushing and your head tipped back, jaw going slack as a sudden surge soared through you, from your core to your feet, toes curling and you felt an unfamiliar gush as everything went black.

Just as quick as your eyes closed, they opened again and Paige was pressing kisses to your inner thigh. She looked up at you, chin dripping and realisation hits you, “Did I squirt?” You ask, voice hoarse and breathless. “Damn right ma. This girl loves me.” She smirks sending a light smack to your pussy and your legs clamp shut, “That’s enough. You just destroyed her.” You chuckle and Paige leans over you, pressing her lips to yours and you get a taste of yourself. “That was so fucking sexy.” She whispers into your ear before trailing wet kiss down your neck.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

a/n: yall!! i know the request said ‘short little smut’ but i got carried away 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 this was rushed and barely edited and im writing this with a glass of wine so apologies in advance for any mistakes, i know i could have done better 💋👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 anyway! love yall, send gays vibes to me tonight, im on a mission x

tag list: @paigeluvvr

#sophs works 🪽#sophs recs 🪽#paige x reader #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers #wlw #lgbtq #fanfic

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habken · 2 days ago

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Hi there!

I have been rewatching MHA and came across many accounts that support bkdk. So i wanted to ask you the following:

Bakugo wanted to kill Izuku on their first day and during the bomb test. He tormented him for over 10 years, insulted him, bullied him, tortured him. Because he has "promise" Aizawa never called him out on his toxic behavior, but threatened Izuku with expulsion all the tims, labeling him as "problem child". All Might never did anything, even after Bakugo states, that he wanted to kill Izuku. Bakugo never faced a consequence for his oppressive behavior, he even bullied his so-called BakuSquad. (He got himself captured by the league and only denied their offer becUse they were "losers") Meanwhile, Izuku clearly shows signs of PTSD, wincing everytime when Bakugo was near him. Bakugo used so many explosions on him, he should be covered in scars. It's clear that he is Hori's favorite. The MHA fandom is pretty toxic, we all know this. Bakugo's "character evolution" didn't make him a better person. He never really changed or helped Izuku. When he "moved out of instinct" he did so because it's "instinct", because he trained so much. He didn't care that it was Izuku, he didn't think about it. After the second/ third season, the other characters just didn't care anymore about his behavior towars Izuku. Aoyama's parents wanted Aoyama to have a quirk to prevent him from being left out of society, so basically to protect him from people like Bakugo. He was the most privileged person (hit the genetic lottery, intelligent and rich parents). But still, MHA clearly shows that if you feel insecure you can bully and torture and there will be no consequences. I love Todoroki and Izuku much more, because they at least help and support each other. Shoto had a terrible childhood, but he never turned into an abuser. He never turned into his father. Bakugo's "excuse" towards Izuku was just laughable (makes the whole Sasuke/ Naruto episode after their big last fight look like true cinema). In the end, the fandom (and Hori) support an abuser/victim relationship.

Why do you support bkdk?

Their relationship gives people a false sense of what a victim of abuse should do. MHA never took Izuku's pain and past seriously. They portrayed Bakugo as "tsundere" instead of showing the real consequences of being the abuser for over a decade. Kirishima showed how to behave if you feel "unmanly" or "inadequate". Bakugo in the MHA world was a racist the minute he found out that Izuku didn't have a quirk. He victimized himself and tortured Izuku because he thinks that the world revolves around him. Shouta from "A silent voice" shows how to seek redemption and forgiveness. Bakugo just wanted to be Nr1 hero, but never a good one who saves people.

MHA clearly shows that you can bully someone, torture someone, torment someone- and you will never have to face consequences. A spit-out "sorry" after 10+ years of bullying and right after insulting someone's mental state is enough to be forgiven.

jesus christ lmao

See I could rebute your long ass essay and give my reasons for liking the ship, but you don’t actually care about what I have to say. I’m not going to spend my time defending myself to someone who’s arguing in bad faith. I spent years defending the ship, getting hate comments and death threats, and I’m not ever doing that shit again.

If you want to goad me into defending a dumb shonen ship, pay me $50. Until then, fuck off. Go find like-minded people under the “bakugou faces consequences” tag on ao3

#just fyi this is really not worth reading #it’s so fucking stupid and lacking in media literacy so don’t even bother #deleting later cause holy fuck that’s a huge wall of text #long post

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minkieater · 1 day ago

Text

EIGHT FIRST DATES ꨄ︎

001 》 HWANG HYUNJIN

your first time on tinder ends in... success? with thanksgiving only eight weeks away, you're hell bent on getting a boyfriend before then to show off to your family. with your first and only option being a dating app, you've scored a beau within hours. will he be the one you show up with thanksgiving day?

➤ see hyunjin's tinder profile here !

smut! mdni! oral r, lots of praise, lil bit of a breeding kink (protected sex tho!) wc ~10k

“yeah, but tinder? really?” your twin stood in front of you, eyebrows twinged in disgust, hands clutching his phone in front of him, thumbs hovering over his screen.

“what other choice do i have? i have eight weeks to get a boyfriend. the clock is fucking ticking,” you threw your hands in the air, stopping your pacing back and forth in your brother’s cluttered bedroom.

“i don’t understand why you let them get to you, bro,” he shook his head, climbing onto his bed, a shirt falling to the floor from the movement. “who cares if you don’t have a boyfriend? just be single, it’s better that way.”

“you literally have a girlfriend, ace,” you crossed your arms, fighting every instinct to not pick up the shirt that had fallen. “you can’t say shit like that when they don’t bother you. mom, matt and even vi started getting on my case about it.”

ace sighed, throwing his head back. “you don’t know anyone? not a single man who’d take you on a date?” he picked his head up to look at you with eyebrows raised, then continued when you gave him a swift shake of your head. “what about yeosang? yunho, san?”

you don’t think your face could look more horrified, “that’s fucking disgusting. we’ve all been best friends since we were basically born, they’re like another you.”

“they sound like three options to me,” he shrugged, then put his legs under his comforter that was scrunched up on the side of his bed, “can you close my door on your way out?”

you made a sound of frustration, somewhere between a grunt and a whine as you left his room, right after throwing the shirt in his annoyingly full hamper and closing the door behind you. you went back to your own bedroom, the complete opposite of his, bed made with four different pillows for show, not a single article of clothing on the floor. the cleanliness made you smile, you even felt cleaner after leaving his room, you immediately hopped onto your bed and opened tinder.

SOOBIN, 23 if u like jjk chainsaw man or solo leveling PLS hmu

JEONGHAN, 29 recruiting new members for my cult

HYUNJIN, 24 swipe right if you like art & wine

INTAK, 21 5’11 since it matters

“jesus,” you said under your breath, you didn’t know if it was because you just signed up for the app and it showed you who everyone was swiping on, or if everyone around you was really just that gorgeous. everyone got a swipe right, and almost everyone afterward until the app notified you that you ran out of likes.

“ran out?!” you yelled at your phone, eyebrows furrowed. you threw your phone on the bed beside you, the back of your head falling into the pillow with a loud huff.

then your phone pinged with a notification.

you picked it up at the speed of light, eyes widening at the little fire icon on your notification screen. you opened the app quickly, checking your matches.

intak: hey ;)

you bit your lip, a smile growing on your face. your first match!

you: heyyy :)))

intak: wsp

you: nothing muchhhh just laying in bed wbu!!

intak: bored :/ intak: u send pics?

you immediately frowned, the adrenaline that was just coursing through you depleted within seconds, your heartbeat already slowing. this was why you didn’t have a boyfriend, why you didn’t date, why you never have.

you quickly unmatched him, throwing your phone beside you again. maybe your twin was right, maybe downloading tinder really was stupid — it’s an app used primarily for hookups, and that’s not what you were interested in. you were looking for someone to show off to your ridiculously large family. to your cousins who have always belittled you for staying single, to your grandma who wants you to be with someone she approves of, to your little fucking sister who called you lame for never having a boyfriend.

you were sick of it. you wanted a partner better than the ones your cousins have, one that would make your grandma give you the ring that still sat on her finger, one that would hangout with your little sister. one that would make your father proud, would make him smile down at you, one that he’d feel ecstatic about you walking down the aisle toward— even if he couldn’t be here to walk you to him.

your phone pinged again.

you picked it up with lowered expectations, clicking on the fire icon again.

hyunjin: hey gorgeous :)

you looked through his profile again before answering. he had seven pictures up on his profile, every single one of them filling you with more curiosity. he had a few photos up with art you can only assume he made, a mirror selfie, two pictures taken of him, and a picture with another gorgeous man. you couldn’t believe he was on tinder — he’s perfect.

you: hey handsome :)

hyunjin: are u a twin?

you: i do happen to be a twin !

hyunjin: thats sick. are u guys identical? u look identical hyunjin: yall have telepathy or whatever?

you: we are not!!! we get that a lot lol you: tbh no you: god must save that for the identical twins💔

hyunjin: are u sure ur not identical hyunjin: u guys look exactly the same hyunjin: how are u twins and u dont have telepathy

you perched an eyebrow, fingers typing faster.

you: yes i am sure??? you: are you a twin???

hyunjin: no

you: right you: ill be sure to let him know we need to try harder to be telepathic

hyunjin: i think telepathy is really beautiful, the whole concept of twins actually. hyunjin: sharing the same DNA??? being essentially the same person split into two bodies, sharing things that no one else will understand just bc of how you were born. its really poetic

you: well were fraternal so we don't share all of our dna just 50% like any other sibling you: we could not be farther from the same person lol but yeah the concept of twins is rlly cool

hyunjin: anyways enough about that hyunjin: do u like art?

you let out a small chuckle— the conversation almost didn’t seem real. you went from one man asking about nudes to another asking you about your genetic makeup, then he asks if you like art? you couldn’t believe the face attached to these messages.

you: yeah i fuck with paintings you: i see you are an artist you: i like what's on your profile !!

hyunjin: thank you :) hyunjin: would u want to go out this saturday? an exhibit opened up downtown, we could go to dinner after? it’s wine night at the bar across the street from the exhibit

the adrenaline that escaped you earlier shot back through your body like lightning, you looked through his profile again. he’s so gorgeous, it seemed too easy — is he a catfish? there’s no way he’s just walking around single with a face like that, and he wants you?

an art exhibit, wine afterwards, it seemed so sophisticated. definitely what you were looking for.

you: yeah id love to! you: send me ur number we can talk details (:

for the days to follow, you and hyunjin had been texting constantly. goodmorning, goodnight, what you’re eating throughout the day, random thoughts you’re having, even deep talks that go as long as one to two in the morning. day by day he was tweaking your mindset bit by bit — every morning you woke up with the same thought, maybe dating isn’t so bad.

three days of a honeymoon phase did not go unnoticed by your family, or your friends.

“what’s got you in such a good mood, tiny?” your mom asked, mixing her coffee with a silver spoon at the glass kitchen table, one leg crossed over the other. you should be used to the nickname by now but it still makes you cringe — twenty two and still called tiny by your entire family.

you didn’t even realize you basically skipped down to the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee for yourself while humming a song hyunjin had sent you last night. you whipped your head around to her, a smile on your face, “it’s saturday.”

her look was unbelieving, she knows you better than that. “you’re never this happy this early.”

“she has a date tonight,” your twin says through a yawn, walking through the kitchen, arms stretching above his head. “with a tinder boy.”

“ace!” you gasp, smacking his arm. you spoke under your breath, “why would you say that?”

“what’s a tinder?” your mom asked from the table, looking at you both with furrowed eyebrows.

you opened your mouth to speak but ace cut you off, “a hookup app.”

your mom gasped, eyes widening, “tiny!”

“it’s not just a hookup app,” san follows ace into the kitchen, black tee sitting tight against his skin, his arms flexing through the fabric — he was always your favorite.

“it basically is, every girl i’ve met on there i’ve hit,” the smirk is clear on ace’s face as he looks to san, who daps him up with a chuckle. san mutters a nice under his breath — immediately demoted from your favorite.

“that’s because you’re gross. we’re going to an art gallery and going to the bar across the street for wine night after,” you smiled, a proud look on your face as you turned to your mom. she didn’t share the glance.

“with who?” your step dad, matt, enters the kitchen from the living room, a mug of coffee in his own hands. “doesn’t sound like something the boys would do willingly on their saturday night.”

“great, let’s just make my date a family discussion, thanks ace,” you rolled your eyes, walking to the fridge to grab your bottle of oat milk.

“a date? you don’t go on dates, tiny,” matt asks from the opposite side of the kitchen, hands on his hips, his coffee mug on the counter next to him.

“i do now,” you huff while pouring the oat milk into your coffee. “don’t ask any more questions, i’m going. end of story.”

matt pulls his lips into a thin line, “not sure i like the sound of this.”

“she’ll be fine,” ace counters as he walks to your side, the gallon of whole milk he just took from the fridge in his hands. “if she needs anything she has at least four different people she can call, one of us being six foot two.”

“exactly,” you nod, mentally thanking ace for backing you up. he looks to you with a tight lipped smile and a hand on your shoulder, his way of saying you’re welcome. maybe you do have a little bit of telepathy, you’d have to tell hyunjin.

getting ready was hard — you looked at hyunjin’s profile on tinder at least six different times before settling on an outfit. in one of his pictures he had on two tank tops, one fitted and one loose with a graphic covering the space, a beanie on his head, a pair of denim shorts and loafers. he was definitely into fashion, if anyone else had tried to wear that same outfit they’d look insane, but he pulled it off with ease.

in another he wore black denim jeans, a fitted black quarter zip sweater that covered half his hands. he had his hair tied up and big glasses on his face —- such a simple outfit curated in a way that made him look so expensive. you just knew he’d show up in something immaculate, you had big shoes to fill to match his vibe, but you’d do it. you wanted to impress him, you needed a boyfriend out of this, after all.

the one thing you had in your possession, the only thing that looked nearly as expensive as him was a long coat that was your mother’s. it took ten minutes of begging but she let you borrow it for the night, your only issue was basing the rest of your outfit around the coat. jeans didn’t look dressy enough, dress pants didn’t look girlfriend enough. you settled on a mini skirt with a pair of tights underneath, you had a pair of knee high boots and a sweater that pulled everything together. the coat fit you perfectly and hit almost the height of your boots, it was the perfect length. you spent at least an hour on your hair, another hour on your makeup, by the time you were finished getting ready you felt like you had really pulled the expensive look off.

“it isn’t ten degrees outside, you know,” ace said as he sat too casually on your bed, your shared three best friends accompanied him on the white sheets.

“i look expensive, do i not?” you played with your hair as you stood in front of your full length mirror, shooting daggers at your twin through the reflection.

“you look like you're in your mom’s coat,” yeosang said from his spot on the bed, peeking his head around san’s shoulder.

you scoffed as you turned around, “all you guys do is insult me, how am i supposed to feel any ounce of confidence before my big date?”

“i think you look great, tiny,” yunho turned his head to look at you from his spot on your bed, his massive frame taking up half the mattress. with his head laid on your pillows, his feet still dangled off the edge of your queen sized bed.

“thank you,” you smiled to yunho, the only one who understood what a girl needs to hear before a date.

your parents were close friends with the parents of the three boys on your bed, the lot of them have been a friend group since before you were born. you and your twin had no choice but to be friends with them growing up, forming your own friend group with the three boys that never disbanded, only grew closer despite your age differences. you always assumed you’d be close with them forever, that’s just how it was, how it’d always be.

they were great friends most of the time, ace wasn’t kidding when he said you had four people you could call in any situation, any emergency, they’d always pick up. they were as much as your brothers as ace is, you considered all three of them like family.

“i think you look great too, you gonna fuck him?” san perched an eyebrow, wiggling them with a mischievous smile as you made a face at him.

“i am not a fuck on the first date kind of girl,” you shrugged, walking over to your vanity to check your makeup again. you grabbed your tube of lip gloss as you sat down, uncapping it to swipe over your already glossed lips.

“how do you know?” yeosang giggled from the bed, “closest thing you’ve ever had to a date was prom, and you went with me.”

“that’s actually true,” you shrugged after applying the gloss, “maybe i might. who knows?”

“i hope you do, god knows you need it teens,” ace mumbles from the bed, his phone in his hands again – probably texting his girlfriend, reia. the pair had been together for six months, your twin’s longest relationship yet. you hadn’t had many chances to hangout with her, but from the times you have she seemed pretty cool, probably too good for your brother.

“i feel like maybe you shouldn’t be the one to say that to me,” your lips pulled into a line as you turned into your chair to face the group. “anyways, who’s driving me? the exhibit is downtown, like twenty minutes away.”

“yun’s the only one who has his car, unless you want one of us to drive your car,” san offered, and the other two boys immediately looked to yunho.

“guess i’m taking you,” yunho said, sitting up on the mattress, no trace of malcontent on his face. “you ready to go now?”

you nodded with a smile, hopping up from the wooden chair. your parents didn’t ask many questions before you left, just telling you to be safe and don’t do anything they wouldn’t do. knowing their background there wasn’t much they wouldn’t do, your mom’s college stories haunt you to this day.

the smiths played through the speakers of yunho’s car on the drive there, softer rock music instead of the usual heavier music he listens to. you brushed it off to the rain that dripped down the windows of the car, the vibe outside not much for heavy rock music with a loud, thumping bass, the emotional and almost melancholic vibe to steven patrick morrissey’s voice was a perfect match.

“i’m happy one of us is taking you,” yunho finally spoke, the music quiet enough for you to hear him clearly. he looked over at you and smiled, the fingers on his right hand still wrapped around his steering wheel. “i don’t have to go over the whole call me if you need anything spiel, right?”

you laughed, “no, i know already, ace said it to matt this morning. i have four people i can call, blah blah blah.”

“i’ll leave my ringer on, so call me, don’t even bother with ace,” he shook his head, shifting his eyes back on the road in front of him – you missed the way his fingers gripped the steering wheel a little harder. “anything could happen, you don’t even really know this guy.”

“i know too much about this guy after only texting him for three days, trust me,” you laughed, “everything will be fine, i’m just looking at some paintings and having a glass of wine.”

“alright,” was all he replied, keeping his gaze on the road. yunho had never been one for many words, he was the one out of the three that you knew the least about. he kept his secrets close to him, was intentional when he spoke, only said what needed to be said always, yet he was still somehow the one you felt the most driven toward whenever you hung out. maybe it was because you knew way too much about the others, it left a certain curiosity about yunho.

you looked down at your phone, a new text from hyunjin from one minute ago was the only thing on your notifications screen.

hyunjin: just got here! i’ll wait for you inside the lobby :)

you: i’m pulling up now !

yunho pulled over in front of the gallery, looking toward you with another tight lipped smile. “have fun, be careful, please call me if you need anything.”

“gosh, i will, jeez,” you smiled, all teeth, then unbuckled yourself. “thank you for the ride, i’ll see you later if you’re still at the house, gonna hopefully bum a ride home from hyunjin.”

“i can pick you up, too,” he adds, and you roll your eyes. you open the door, sliding out of the car onto the slick sidewalk.

“jesus, yunho, if you wanted to see me that bad you should’ve just taken me to the damn art gallery,” you teased, resting your hand on the top of the car door.

his smile is wide as he teases, “your grandma fucking adores me, tiny.”

“goodbye, yunho!” you called as you shut the car door, a smile on your face as you began your walk up to the building that held the exhibit.

within a second of being by yourself, reality seemed to hit you fast. just behind the tall, dark doors, stood a gorgeous man who was meeting you – taking you on a date, to an art exhibit at that. it all felt so sophisticated, so mature, maybe this would be easier than you thought. who knew tinder would produce such a well thought out date?

as you pushed open the door to the exhibit, you were greeted with a fucking museum. cream walls, pillars, the whole thing – you were grateful you dressed the way you did. your eyes scanned the people in the lobby, searching for mister tall, dark and handsome himself.

as your eyes finally laid on him, you were really grateful you dressed the way you did. his hair was down, curly and messy yet still put together, a matching corduroy set of pants and a jacket, a black tee underneath. necklaces sat around his neck, laid across his chest, bracelets on his wrist and rings on his fingers – he made such a simple outfit extravagant, he looked like he had a personal stylist, someone to dress him with clothes that were tailored just for him.

as you walked towards him, you felt your body locking up, the excitement you felt moments prior transformed to straight nerves. your eyes raked over his build, lean yet muscular, his jaw perfectly chiseled, as his eyes met yours it nearly took your breath away. he smiled, so wide you couldn’t help but return it, he was even more gorgeous than his pictures – in person, hwang hyunjin was fucking breathtaking.

“hey beautiful,” he smiled as you finally approached him, wrapping an arm around you in a quick squeeze. “happy to finally see your pretty face in person.”

“i could say the same thing to you,” you laugh, it comes out nervous, your breath unsteady. “what’s the opposite of a catfish?”

he threw his head back in a laugh, “you flatter me,” he waved his hand side to side, his smile so fucking contagious. instead of deflating, your nerves flare up worse, remembering that this isn’t just a first date with a beautiful man, this is your first date ever. dates didn’t come with an instruction manual, you didn’t know how to act, what to say, what to do. you don’t even like art like that!

he cut off your thoughts, “you ready to go in? i already got us tickets.” the way he looked at you was so inviting, his chocolate eyes so warm it made you dizzy. you nodded with a smile and he led the way, the man working the door offering a hey hyunjin as you walked into the exhibit. you lifted a brow, but thought nothing of it as he grabbed your hand, leading you to the first piece.

his hand completely swallowed yours – veiny hands, long fingers that were covered in silver and nails painted black, you couldn’t take your eyes off of them until he spoke again, letting go of your hand.

“a replica, an ode to josep llimona,” hyunjin stands close to you, nodding toward the sculpture in front of him, then looks down to you. “do you know desolation?”

you shake your head once and he continues, “it’s a sculpture, made in 1907 that’s in the museum of catalonia in barcelona. what do you see when you look at it?”

you look at the sculpture, your head tilting to one side. it was a naked woman leaning onto something like a rock, her fingers intertwined, her face hidden by her hair. she looked distraught, like something terrible had just happened, as if she was suffering or mourning.

“i see a woman in despair,” your words are quiet and he smiles, a wide grin showing all of his teeth. you frown, “it’s sad, i want to help her.”

“in the early 1900s there was a bunch of different pieces of art made for temples, this piece was a part of that group, well, a replica of the piece,” he tucks a piece of hair behind his ear, eyes trained on the sculpture before you. his passion was raw as he spoke, “within the group, artists made sculptures of women that had feelings like grief, despair and resignation. the whole idea behind it was capturing feelings instead of beauty.”

“but she is beautiful,” your eyebrows furrowed together, bringing your eyes back to the sculpture before you. you frowned again.

“notice how you can’t see her face?” he leans in closer to you, “her hair is covering it, but you can still tell she’s sad.”

your mouth forms a small o as you turn your head, looking up to him, “oh, shit— you’re right!”

“you’re adorable,” he smiles down at you, “do you know much about art?”

“a little…” your cheeks warm and you look away from him, a sleeve covered hand coming up to mask your blush when your faces had come closer than intended. “basically just what i was taught in high school.”

he lets out a small chuckle, “sorry to go all art nerd on you, then. i did a whole project on desolation last year.”

“no, no, don’t apologize,” you shake your head, “it’s really attractive, actually.”

he smiles again, a pink hue to his cheeks. “good to know.”

he moves to the next piece, long corduroy covered legs pulling you along as if he was tugging on a leash, you were whipped already. tall, gorgeous, respectful and smart, he seemed like the entire package. “ah, this one really speaks to me,” he says as he comes to a stop, squinting at the painting in front of him, crossing his arms over his chest.

“yeah?” you ask, a small smile on your face as you watch him, then look at the painting in front of you. it looked like… a bunch of colors. green, a reddish line in the center, then a deep blue underneath.

it simply seemed like a bunch of colors painted on a canvas, your eyebrows furrowed. “i’m gonna need you to go art nerd on me again, i think.”

he smiles, “this is number two, blue red and green, by mark rothko. it was made in 1958, oil on canvas— do you want the whole backstory or just a little summary?”

“whatever you want to tell me, i’ll listen,” you nod, shifting your weight to one foot, looking up to him as he spoke. his whole face lit up, he had stars in his eyes, you could tell he loved it here, loved art in general.

you loved listening to people speak about what they love, the passion that flows through their words, how they tend to overshare the little details that they find just as important as the big ones. as hyunjin spoke about the green red and blue painting you accidentally tuned him out, eyes focused on his own, his long eyelashes, how the lighting in the building made him look like he belonged to the exhibit.

exquisite, a masterpiece of his own, the way his tongue would sneak out of his mouth to swipe across his bottom lip, how his lips would part just enough to get a peek of the perfect set of teeth that lived inside. you gave him small nods as he spoke, not hearing a word of it, brain whirling about symmetrical his face is.

“it’s basically all about personal translation, how colors can evoke different emotions in people,” he nods, looking back at the painting, “it’s all about the viewer, how it’s interpreted.”

you looked back to the piece. you may have missed his monologue about the guy and the meaning but the art still looked like a bunch of colors to you — your head tilted again, your lips forming a pout. you wished you saw it how he did.

“not feeling this one, hm?” your head snaps back to look up at him, your eyes widening. he must have seen the look on your face.

“no, i love it, it speaks to me, too,” you nod, a nervous smile crossing your cheeks, the lie so clear on your tongue. maybe you didn’t think through what a date at an art exhibit would entail, especially going with someone who studies it. you were clueless in the cream colored walls, you wished you could see through his eyes, understand his thought process.

“it’s okay, definitely abstract,” he shrugs, the warm smile that was still on his face told you he saw straight through your lie but he didn’t mind, “at least you got desolation right on the mark.”

you run a hand through your hair, your cheeks becoming red hot, “i’m enjoying listening to you explain everything to me, though.”

“there’s cooler ones the further we go,” his head nods deeper into the exhibit, his hands finding his pockets. you try not to pout again, maybe if you understood red white and blue better his hand would be intertwined with yours.

as he brought you deeper into the exhibit, his statement sat with you in the silence, especially as you began skipping piece after piece — you thought that if this was his first time here and since he’s clearly an art guy, he wouldn’t be skipping anything. as you listened to the only noise, your boot covered feet hitting the floor, you remembered the doorman who called him by his name earlier.

“have you been here before?” you asked from behind him, your eyes trained on the maroon coloured corduroy.

“no, why?” it felt like a rebuttal as it left his lips, his eyebrows furrowing together, almost as if you insulted him.

“just wondering,” you kept your thoughts to yourself, keeping tabs on every flag you weren’t sure what color to give. as lost as you were in the exhibit, it still interested you to be here, to listen and learn from him as he spoke about the things he loved most — plus there was him, the tall, perfectly gorgeous man that stood in front of you.

the next hour was spent with hyunjin showing you pieces of art that you couldn’t begin to dissect, leaving him to pick them apart piece by piece. the feeling of being on the outside faded with each new painting, new sculpture, new drawing, he made you feel as if art was a distant friend you just needed to catch up with, even if you had never been interested in art before today. the way he explained, the way he taught, how he asked you questions, it made you feel like you knew all the information already– just needed someone to help you remember.

hyunjin was easy to talk to, he was understanding— he was kind, first and foremost. your favorite so far was his thinking face, how he’s quiet as he stares, his arms crossed, his lips pursed. when he was thinking you could see the gears turning, you watched as that beautiful head of his began concocting some form of explanation, a feeling for what he was looking at, how he could explain it to you– how he could make you feel like you knew it already.

then there was his smile, the warmth to his fingers that found yours again, the softness to his palm that enveloped yours perfectly. you begin to forget why you never dated in the first place if they were like this, full of curiosity, such a shared openness between yourself and another person, learning about each other and how to connect in real time. even if you and hyunjin didn’t share a passion for art, your conversation still flowed, you bonded through humor and the smaller things you’d learned about each other through texting.

as you got farther into the exhibit, turning around and making your way back up to the front, you noticed hyunjin took off his teacher hat and put on his charmer hat instead. you didn’t notice the switch, but your cheeks burned on your walk back to the front more than they had the entire date.

“if you want to meet kkami so bad, why don’t you just come over instead?” there was a soft tug to the corners of his lips as he looked down to you, your fingers intertwined as you approached the exit to the exhibit. your adrenaline sparked, heart beating a beat faster, cheeks warming as if on command.

“you don’t want to have wine?” you asked, but you weren’t opposed to the idea– as soon as hyunjin mentioned his dog and sent you pictures of him yesterday, you were sold on meeting him whether that was today or eventually.

“i have wine at my place,” he shrugged, “i also have a record player and a dog.”

you took a moment to think– if you went to the bar, it’d be a public space, which is good for safety reasons and feels more casual than being in his apartment with just the two of you, almost takes the edge off. at the same time, his apartment would be quieter, more intimate, a calmer environment for you to get to know him better, you felt you knew enough about him already to be comfortable around him alone. plus he has a dog.

“what kind of wine do you have?” you lifted a brow, a small smirk playing on your lips. you were sold already, but he didn’t need to know that yet.

his smile was worth a million dollars as he said, “you said you like red, so i picked up an ‘05 burgundy, cote de beaune.”

your smirk grew wider, ignoring the comment about the wine that you were sure was supposed to impress you, “had a plan to get me back at your place all along then, huh?”

“can a man not manifest?” he asked, immediately pulling a laugh straight from your lungs. “that’s a yes then?”

“yes, but only because i want to meet kkami, even if he isn’t very nice. he’ll like me,” you wave a hand at him, passing through the exit where a different doorman gave hyunjin a nod of his chin – a small gesture that didn’t escape your eyes.

hyunjin’s car was nice, nothing special, it still had that new car smell mixed with that of his cologne. he played frank ocean through the speakers at a low volume, background music to the sound of the windshield wipers clearing his vision. you couldn’t help but stare as he drove, eyes lingering on his sharp jaw, how his hair curled around his neck. your focus caught on his ring clad fingers that wrapped around the steering wheel, ears perking up at the soft hum emitting from his throat to the tune of the song. it was comfortable, you were comfortable, you began to regret the last few of your life spent not dating.

when hyunjin unlocked his front door, the lights in his apartment were already dim, and the oreo colored ball of fluff ran up to you immediately. he barked at first, but after you bent down and greeted him with a few strokes to his back, kkami was on his back and quiet, enjoying your affection.

“i told you he’d like me,” you smiled up at hyunjin through your eyelashes.

“i didn’t doubt you for a minute,” he stood smiling with an arm out in your direction. he had already hung his coat on the rack beside the door, he stood above you with a hand out in an offer to take yours too. you stood and began to take it off but he stopped you, painted fingers slipping underneath the wool to slip it off your back himself.

a blush crept back onto your cheeks again as you muttered a thank you, finally looking around to take in his space. all of his lights were dim, casting warmth onto his furniture, all dark and muted and cozy. his tables were all deep wood, there wasn’t much brightness in his space, not even in the books that littered the shelves on his walls. he had a tv across from the couch with a table in between, as you took off your shoes and stepped closer into the space you noticed art magazines laid across the surface.

the art on his walls were all of the same type, you supposed, you wondered if he made them himself. a fuzzy throw blanket laid over the couch, plants lived in the corners, hwang hyunjin’s space was so inviting. you were glad you came here– one look at his own space showed you even more about him.

hyunjin skipped through the apartment, lighting candles, opening his windows just a crack to let the noise of the rain hitting the ground slip through.

“you can sit on the couch if you want, make yourself at home. i’ll grab us some glasses, put some music on,” he said with a hand halfway in a candle, flicking a lighter with his thumb. he was really dedicated to setting the mood.

you nodded and sat on the couch, kkami jumping up beside you on the cushion, crawling onto your lap. you pet his head down to his back, cooing at him getting cozy on your lap, pulling your legs up to cross beneath you.

you heard the scratch of the record player and you turned to see hyunjin standing over it, placing the tonearm on the record while somehow carrying the wine bottle and two glasses by the stem between the fingers of his other hand. music fills the space of the apartment as he walks over to the couch and places the glasses on the table, pouring both of your glasses and placing the bottle between them.

“i can’t believe he’s being this nice,” he says as he sits next to you, an arm swinging over the back of the couch, one leg folded in front of him as he looks down to kkami.

“is this solomon burke?” you ask, eyebrow perching up as you catch the music playing through the apartment, you recognized his voice before the song.

hyunjin looks shocked, his eyes wide and his head tilted slightly forward, “i cannot believe you know that.”

“when did this come out? the sixties?”

“1964 to be exact, rock ‘n soul.”

“when i was younger i had a small infatuation with the movie dirty dancing, my favorite off the album is–”

“cry to me,” you both say in unison, then burst into a fit of giggles, kkami leaping straight off of your lap from your movement.

“i love old music like this, it’s so raw, full of soul,” hyunjin says, grabbing your glasses from the table and handing yours to you. he swirls his around in his glass and you copy him, swirling your own before taking a sip. you tried not to cringe at the taste.

“when men weren’t afraid to say what they wanted to,” you agreed, continuing his thought with your own, “so open in showing emotion, their feelings, their passion. i love it too.”

“ah,” he nods, “that could never be me, i don’t think i could ever hide what i was feeling for a second, i don’t have it in me. i wear my emotions on my face, and proudly.”

you smile, “that’s good, better than good, it’s refreshing. never change that.”

“i don’t plan to,” he shakes his head, taking a sip of his wine, the two of you falling into a moment of silence.

“is this where you make me tell you my deepest, darkest secrets?” you joke, taking a sip from your own glass– you were never much for wine, at your big age of twenty two the most pleasurable alcohol you’ve tasted is a surfside. you get it down without a change to your face, looking through your eyelashes to the man before you.

he lets out a sound of amusement, “you can start by telling me what you’re looking for, then we can get to your deepest darkest secrets.”

“i already told you, i just wanted to go on a date, see where it goes– i’m not looking for anything specifically,” you shrug, referring to one of the first conversations you had through text. you were lying straight through your teeth, you didn’t need to tell him the whole boyfriend before thanksgiving spiel.

“not about the date, dummy, what are you looking for in a partner?” he tilts his head, sinking into the couch, getting more comfortable.

“that’s basically asking me for my deepest, darkest secrets,” you roll your eyes, then give yourself a moment to think, process his question. did you even know what you were looking for?

you thought about your cousins, their partners, your parents, your stepdad, ace, his girlfriend, their dynamic… you knew what you didn’t want.

“i want someone who knows me,” you start, a blush creeping to your cheeks again, “someone who knows the ugliest parts of me and still wants to be with me. someone who knows what i’m thinking, what i’m going to say before i do because they’ve paid that much attention to me.” you brush your hair behind your ear, letting out an uneasy breath. “i have a big family, and they’re really important to me… despite how insane they all are. i want someone who understands that, and my family becomes just as important to them.”

hyunjin nods, his warm eyes trained on you as if he was pulling the thoughts straight from your head, pushing for you to keep going. you welcome the push as your thoughts start to flow freely.

“i want to be with someone true,” you smile, “i want a partner who’s honest, true to themselves and true to me, doesn’t fake anything, none of that sugar coating shit. a true partnership, teamwork, someone who really means it when they say through thick and thin, someone who doesn’t run when shit gets hard.”

“a relationship is pointless to me if it isn’t built on trust, i want to be able to have full faith in my partner and they also have it in me. to be known is to be loved,” you smile, then the smile drops as soon as you realize everything you just said. three sips of wine and you already can’t shut up.

“every time i’ve asked that question in the past, every girl has always said something along the lines of i want someone handsome, funny, smart, kind,” hyunjin’s face is unreadable, a blank expression, yet there’s something tugging at him. “no one’s ever given me such a real answer before.”

“i didn’t mean to, i don’t know where that came from,” you say honestly, then sip your wine again, a bigger sip this time. if you were going to talk like this then you might as well catch a buzz before you do.

“i like the honesty,” he smiles, “and i agree with a lot of it– i can be a lot sometimes, with what i’m passionate about, how my interests can change within a day’s time. i’m not very organized, i like to do things without a schedule, more spontaneous than planned. that’s not everybody’s cup of tea, so if someone were to be with me for real, i’m a lot to take on.”

“i do like spontaneity,” you nod, “but i am definitely more of a planner, i was happy we made plans days in advance. gave me time to mentally prepare,” a laugh leaves you. “you’re definitely a more passionate person than i initially thought.”

“there’s a lot more passion you haven’t seen yet,” he winks, then takes a sip from his wine.

you giggle, “yet?”

“yet,” he nods in confirmation, and there’s something about the way he’s saying something without saying it, making you read between the lines but also being so obvious. it’s his confidence, the way his jaw is set but he looks so soft, so inviting, it makes you want to lick the line from below his ear to his chin.

maybe san and ace were right – maybe you did need this, maybe you even wanted it. you couldn’t put your finger on why that sentence made your body run hot, a burning in your core that you haven’t felt in ages, a want for somebody else that wasn’t fully based on looks or a system full of a frat house’s jungle juice.

“when do i get to see it?” you ask, tilting your head, letting your tongue slip out to lick your lips. a smile graces his own, like he was hoping for that answer. you weren’t sure where your own confidence was coming from, maybe it was being so honest with him, a feeling of being connected to him through your own revelations – things you haven’t shared with anyone else.

“just say the word, baby,” his words are like velvet as they leave his lips, kissing your ears with such a sweetness you were willing to start begging. you’d never been called baby by anyone, never been so wound up so quickly by something so inexplicably sexual – you decided then and there that your first ever date was only going to end one way.

as if on cue, the song changed, cry to me by solomon burke playing through the record player, the soft cracks of the vinyl making you feel as if fate was in the dim living room, too.

“show me,” your words were barely above a whisper, the eye contact you were holding was so strong, so powerful it felt life changing when he moved across the couch.

he took your glass from your hand in silence, setting the pair on the coffee table, then his hands were on you. his right hand came under your jaw, his left in your hair and then he took a pause, giving you a second to burn the sight to memory, making sure you felt the intensity of his stare before he leaned forward, attaching his lips to yours.

his lips were as soft as they looked, plump and sweet, tasting like the wine you’d been drinking and notes of himself, raw and unfiltered. the kiss was deafening, your ears rang, you were putty in his hands from the moment his painted fingertips touched your skin. your hands went to his forearms, fingers latching onto his soft skin as his lips moved with yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth the second your jaw opened wide enough to let him in.

your lips were still touching as he mumbled, “taste just as sweet as i thought you would.” you could feel him smile into the kiss as you replied with a noise of satisfaction, somewhere between a moan and a whimper.

he moved to sit back on the couch, legs bending with his lips and hands still on you, forcing you to follow him backward. you lifted up on your knees and crawled on top of him, settling yourself into his lap. you ignored your skirt as it lifted, forcing yourself free of its confines, letting it rest just below your ass and high on your thighs as your hands moved to his neck, fingers twining into his hair, tangling in the roots.

a low groan left his lips when you offered a sharp tug to his dark locks, his hands moving from your head down to your waist, one slipping down to the plush of your ass. you gasped into the kiss, welcoming his tongue again, effectively silencing you while making your head spin.

you stayed like that for awhile, making out on his couch, hands exploring and touching and feeling and not quite taking the step to go farther. when he finally pulled away and let his head fall to the back of the couch you pouted, the voice in the back of your head telling you to follow him backward, to lick up the column of his neck he was showing off so proudly.

“i didn’t bring you here just to sleep with you, you know,” he admits, his expression turning serious, lowered eyes locked on yours through long lashes.

you nodded, bringing a hand up to wipe the remnants of your messy makeout from your bottom lip with low, cracking music from the record player still filling the space of his living room. you felt as if he was leaving the next step up to you, and you were met with two choices: to cut it off here, not go any further, maybe kiss a little more then go home, maybe even plan another date. or you could grind yourself against his lap, lick up his neck like you want to, and finish what you started.

“okay,” you blinked, not missing how his chest rose and fell, a need disguised by heavy breaths locked within his chest that he was trying not to show. he wanted this just as much as you did, the only choice was the latter— you weren’t used to the choice being left to you.

“what if i want to?” you asked, batting your lashes, a ghost of a smile sitting on your lips. his own smile grew, his fingers grabbed your hips, his hips bucking upward to push you toward him once more.

you kept him there, back against the couch, head tipping off the back of it as you acted out your fantasy, dragging your tongue from just above his collarbone to his jaw. he groaned again, a vibration against your tongue as your lips worked onto his neck, his fingers gripping your hips harder. he used his hands to move you, grinding you against himself until you could feel what you needed pressing up against your too clothed center. you gasped into his skin– it was hot, the feeling of being guided yet knowing you were the one holding the reins.

you didn’t need his hands anymore as your lips met his again, hips rocking against him all on your own as your fingers clutched onto his roots, tugging at them to bring him closer to you. it felt like a dance, one that you’d been performing for years, your bodies moving in sync with one another so perfectly you almost forgot you met each other a couple hours ago.

his fingers reached for your sweater, you broke the kiss just long enough for him to tug it over your head, your fingers immediately reaching for the hem of his own shirt. he unclasped your bra with one hand rendering your chests bare against one another, the heat between you only intensifying with his skin against yours. he leaned off the back of the couch and you moaned as his hands made their way up to your chest, thumbs dancing over your peaks with a feathered touch, your hips plummeting into his own.

“so perfect,” he breathed, attaching his lips to your chest instead and your head fell back with a sigh, back arching into his touch. “so sensitive.”

“always,” you mumbled, voice sounding completely dazed, yet you made the conscious decision to not share that your sensitivity was from your lack of experience. not that you haven’t slept with many people, you did go to a big school, but it was never like this. basically sober, so intimate, watchful eyes on your reactions and words spoken between kisses, never with a man anything like hwang hyunjin. you were used to drunken quickies with finance majors, a quick rub to your clit before they slipped inside, in the bathroom of a frat house or if you were so lucky, a bedroom on the top floor.

his hands fell to your thighs, fingers trailing over the nylon, thumbs rubbing circles on the inside as his pretty pink lips worked on you, your hands finding refuge in his roots again, scratching into his scalp.

“wanna move to my room?” he looked up to you and it snapped you out of your haze, nodding down to his chocolate covered eyes, and he stood. palms holding onto your ass, strong thighs hoisting you up, your legs wrapped around his tiny waist as he walked you through his living room, down a hallway and laid you onto the plush of his mattress.

his room’s lighting was just as dim as the living room, his windows already opened, a chill hitting the skin of your chest as your back hit the crimson duvet. he was quick to crawl on top of you, soothing the bumps that rose on your skin while straddling your legs with his own, fingers lifting your skirt up to your waist.

“this okay?” his eyes flickered to yours with a pause, thumbs hooked beneath the elastic of your tights. you nodded, lifting your hips so he could get them down your thighs, yet he still paused. “words, baby.”

your words were too quick, so eager it was almost laughable as you nearly cut him off, “yes, please.”

he took his time sliding the nylon fabric down your legs, taking your socks with them and throwing the ball of fabric to the floor. you were left in your panties and your skirt around your waist, the skirt he quickly discarded, your panties he left on.

“you’re so fucking gorgeous,” he said under his breath, eyes raking down your body from your head to your knees. “i’m so lucky.”

your face matched the bedspread, now you were really in unknown territory. your arms went up to cover your cheeks and he was quick to grab your wrists, lips coming forward to kiss the inside of your left one.

“don’t get shy on me now, let me worship you,” your chest was starting to match your face. it was mortifying being left bare for him when he was still clothed from the waist down, but it somehow made everything feel so much hotter. no man has ever spoken to you like this before, taken the time to learn you.

you watched as his chiseled abdomen folded when he dipped his head down, lips pressing against the skin of your stomach, licking right below your chest. his hands let go of your wrists to slide down to your hips, thumbs hooking into the fabric of your pink lacy panties as his lips left a trail of spit down your waist. you fought every instinct to keep your hips planted on the mattress as his tongue slipped out of his lips to swipe below the hem, a gasp leaving your throat, your joints locking under his touch.

“wore these just for me?” he asked with a smile on his cheeks, cocking his head to the side playfully, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips soothingly.

“shut up,” you mumbled, legs automatically closing around his shoulders out of embarrassment, only forcing his face down further to escape the cage you created. he giggled then placed a quick kiss on your clothed clit through the thin fabric, making a mewl rip from your throat, your hips bucking upward.

“you’re so sensitive,” he marveled, eyes widening a bit like he had just discovered ground breaking information.

you were growing impatient, hips no longer staying glued to the bed out of sheer will, you needed more. you whined, muttering a “hyunjin please” and his grin told you enough.

he was quick to get back on his knees and slip your panties down your legs, throwing them to the floor with the rest of your clothes and he pushed you up the bed, kneeling in front of you. his eyes stayed glued to your center as he laid between your legs again, nearly drooling as he spoke, “such a perfect little pussy.”

he licked a fat stripe up your folds and your head shot back, eyes screwed tight as a disgusting moan escaped your lips. he smiled into your core, you could feel it amongst his flattened tongue that worked you from bottom up.

“tastes as good as she looks,” you couldn’t bother to be embarrassed anymore, hips bucking into his mouth, your hands flying to his hair. he groaned into you, lips sucking harder around your clit, listening to your moans for what you liked best.

he worked up to a rhythm, sucking on your clit and licking swirls with his tongue before you felt the painted tip of his finger poking at your entrance.

“yes, yes,” you repeated through a moan and he pushed in, his finger immediately curling upward and you saw stars. eyebrows furrowed and mouth hung open you were choking out moans, repeating words of affirmation to hyunjin that you hoped made sense.

as your stomach began to tighten, you couldn’t believe it. no one else had ever made you cum before, that’d always been something you could only do by yourself. excitement bubbled in your stomach as well as your impending release, words flying out of your mouth you couldn’t even decipher.

“please make me cum, please hyunjin i’m close,” your mouth was moving before your brain could think of the words, back arching off the bed and fingers yanking at his hair, you were praying he’d get you over the edge.

hyunjin kept his rhythm, curling his finger inside you and sucking at your clit until he felt you clench around him, your body locking up. your toes curled as your back arched up off the bed, thighs strangling his head between them, chin tucking into your chest as you cried. mumbles of i’m coming please don’t stop left your lips repeatedly as the dam in your core cracked open, you felt static in your veins and such a vicious shake to your body that seemed to last forever.

when your body went limp and you let go of his hair, hyunjin broke free, coming up for air with his tongue swiping at his swollen lips.

he crawled up your body, mouth finding yours quickly and you melted into the mattress, arms hooking around his neck. “so good at that,” you mumbled between kisses, “made me cum so hard.”

“that was the goal, baby,” he smiled into the kiss, his right arm flying down to his belt. you met him halfway, fingers unhooking the silver buckle while your lips never parted until you finally pulled it from its loops. you unzipped his corduroys and your hand reached above his briefs, palming him over the fabric.

he groaned, his cock rock hard against your skin, and you smiled. “i need you,” you said, lips still touching his, and the sound that left his mouth straight into yours was lethal.

he got his pants off in record time, reaching for a condom in his nightstand. he rolled it on with ease and slipped right back between your legs, your ankles in his hands. he kissed the inside of your ankle once, twice before he wore his serious expression again. “tell me if you want to stop at any point, okay?”

“i will,” you nod, twitching with impatience before he lined himself up with your center. he pushed in slowly, your entrance slick with your orgasm didn’t give him much resistance. you moaned at the same time when he bottomed out, your eyes flying to the back of your head and his head fell forward.

hyunjin wasn’t thick but he was long, you could feel him so deep. it was a delicious stretch, a feeling he shared as he said, “feel so good around me baby, pussy’s so perfect.”

you moaned in response, hips moving to create some friction, begging him to move. he caught on, slowly pulling out before rocking back into you, letting go of your thighs to lean over your frame.

you felt small beneath him, as tall as he is he felt massive above you, inside you. your ankles hooked around his back, thighs pushing him inside you as your chests met.

“so fucking big,” you moaned out, nails clawing at his shoulders as he picked up the pace. his right hand moved to your jaw, holding it steady to press his forehead to yours before he connected his lips with yours again.

the kisses were nasty, more tongue and spit than anything but it was so hot. you moaned into each other’s mouths, every inch of your skin touching, everything about it was so intimate. it was all so new yet you welcomed every part of it, hookups in frat houses would now be a thing of the past — there was no better than this.

“so tight, baby fuck,” his eyes were screwed tight as he picked up the pace, his head falling into the corner of your neck that met your shoulder. you let out small whimpers with each of his thrusts, the curve to his cock hitting every spot you needed it to.

“you g’na cum for me?” you sounded so fucked out you didn’t recognize your own voice, so weak and desperate.

“need you to cum for me first, pretty girl,” he lifted his head, rocking his hips into you harder, bringing his arm between your bodies to rub your clit.

“fuck,” you gasped out and his lips were on yours again, still all spit and tongue, he swallowed your moans as you felt the tightness in your stomach form again.

“cum for me, baby, please, cum around my cock,” he moaned as you clenched around him, his thrusts beginning to lose their edge as you approached your peak.

“i’m coming,” your words were rushed out as your second orgasm finally crashed over you, the most lewd noises leaving hyunjin’s mouth and directly into yours. you looked up to him with stars in your eyes, his own clamped shut, wet hair sticking to his forehead. he was beautiful like this — you were in awe.

“good girl, fuck, gonna fill you up,” his thrusts were erratic, not as precise as before as he choked out, “gonna make this pussy mine.” your ankles tightened around his back as he fucked you through your orgasm and towards his own, your back arching up into his chest, nails clawing into his back.

“cum for me,” your head was somewhere else, “wanna feel you, hyunjin, let me feel you cum for me.”

his hips stilled inside you, head falling to the pocket of your shoulder again, a deep groan leaving his chest. a moan escaped you, rocking your hips against his, milking his orgasm for as long as you could.

you lay there for a moment, hyunjin still inside you, your ankles hooked around his back with no sound except heavy breaths and the low music playing from the living room. after a few minutes he rolled off of you, laying on his back for a moment before he got up to discard the condom. you felt cold again, the shiver from his open window creeping over your skin again, bumps once again rising to the surface.

when he hopped back onto the bed with that beautiful fucking smile of his, warmth enveloped you once more. he pecked you once before hovering over your face, brushing a piece of hair away from your cheeks.

“you’re so beautiful, you know that?” his eyes bored into yours with a seriousness he wanted you to feel. you smiled, cheeks flushing, arms wrapping over your chest.

your lips scrunched together in your smile, muttering a thank you while shying away from his eye contact and shifting your focus to his pillows.

you felt like a brand new person — one that goes on dates, one that has sex, real sex. one that communicates, one that doesn’t shy away from a real conversation, one that is now fully open to having a relationship.

by the end of the night when you and hyunjin were fighting for him to take you home (you wanted to go home, he wanted you to stay the night) you thought that maybe you wouldn’t have to go on any more dates. maybe hyunjin was it for you, art nerd and all, he could be the one to show off to your cousins— get that family ring around your finger.

when he kissed you goodbye in front of your front door you were convinced. optimistic as ever and excited, full of adrenaline, you skipped into your dark house and fled up to your room, smiling from the time you hopped in the shower until your head hit your pillow.

8fd masterlist | main masterlist

perm tags: @chimivx :p

#hwang hyunjin #skz hyunjin #skz #stray kids au #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids #hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #skz fic #skz scenarios #skz smut #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x female reader #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut

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the-fab-fox · 14 hours ago

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Holy shit this is exactly what I'm feeling with right the fuck now

Y'all in order countries. This is America's Healthcare System which should really be called the Healthcare Industry at this point because they make money while we (the poor on state insurance) get sicker and sicker and die cause there's just not enough clinics and things that accept state insurance.

It's all by design. And now trump plans to get rid of most if not all public programs and state programs that were created to help those in need and those whom are disabled or otherwise ill so soon the largest socioeconomic class (not the highest) will be the majority of the US. Which is as stated. Mostly poor and impoverished.

They are literally killing us all off and don't seem to care who knows. I don't trust the government, I don't trust the politicians. They literally call themselves career politicians. They don't actually care about us except how each party can use us to further their causes and take their aggressions.

This isn't a free county.

I'm not sure it ever was, really.

Except for those in power and those who are rich. (Which includes the private pay, no state insurance accepted, doctors. The ones who took an oath to take care of patients and make them the priorities. Yeah them. Doctor's like that only exist on the big and small screens. In books.

Basically... It's fiction when it comes to a large number of doctors. (Though there are many doctors who are good and do listen even though they are over worked by cases and things like that but we have to sift through all the clinics to find one. It can be done though. My doctor is amazing and she's so kind and actually listens and we discuss rather than I get told and don't get to have a speak except for a few utterances before I'm cut off by the next question.)

Money. Greed. Money. Greed.

That's what was hidden behind their 'Freedom'.

But it's always been about money. Just watch Hamilton on Disney+.

Rich people except in very rare instances literally must have been willing to step on the backs of others to get as rich as they are.

Doesn't sound much like freedom and equality to me. (And I don't exist in the eyes of trump.)

Sending epic classy vibes and setting the intention that your week/end is absolutely fabulous and the universe gives you everything you need to thrive. So mote it be.)

*doctor voice* hmmmm…..have you tried this revolutionary method called painmaxxxing? it is where you do not bother me and adjust to being in agony all the time and we do nothing to resolve the root cause or treat the symptoms. you don’t wish to try painmaxxxing? you’re being non-compliant with the treatment plan I have just provided you?

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obxsummer · 3 days ago

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i still need you // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: late night conversations turn ugly, jj sets off on an adventure with his dad, and an SOS text leads to a life stopping moment for john b.

warnings: nothing you haven’t seen in obx before

navigation -- series masterlist

ask me anything or support me via a ko-fi

JJ Maybank loved you.

If everything else in the world was suddenly a lie, that statement would remain true. JJ Maybank loved you so much, he swore it was the only thing he was good at.

He never realized how valuable it was to have someone so in tune with his every motion, his every thought and reaction. You were always there no matter what was going on, and you always knew how to handle it.

He was trying. He was trying really hard to give you that same effort, that same love and attention you gave him every time, but he had to admit that he was struggling. What was supposed to be a simple trip to the bathroom was slowly turning into the worst conversation of his life, and as he watched your walls crash in front of him, he didn’t know what to do.

“Are you pregnant?”

The question had you flying out of the hammock and back into the bedroom before you could even get a word out. JJ was standing in the bathroom doorway, Sarah’s capped pregnancy test in his hand. Your heart fell to your ass and you just stared at him.

“Babe?”

You shook your head, tears forming faster than you wished when you realized you’d been so unfair to him. “JJ, I gotta talk to you.”

“Are you pregnant?” He repeated the question much quieter, his tone still soft and careful as he approached.

You shook your head again. “No. It’s not mine.”

JJ nodded, his gaze dropping to the two lines on the test as he stared at it. “Then…?”

“Sarah’s.”

There was a sense of relief that overtook him, but part of him was also sad. Starting a family with you is something JJ had been hesitant about, especially with his own paternal history. He didn’t know if he could fix the curse of his dad’s behavior. Both of his so called fathers' behavior, actually.

“Would… Would you-”

“I can’t have kids.”

JJ blinked and looked up at you. “Huh?”

You crossed your arms over your chest protectively. “Because of everything… with- with Rafe. They said there’s…it’s not impossible but it’s extremely high risk and unlikely.”

When he was silent, you knew this was a dealbreaker. You should’ve told him, given him a chance to run before he put a ring on your finger and gave all this effort to you.

“I know I should’ve told you, so if…if you want this back, it’s okay. I don’t blame you if you wanna act like this never happened, but I’m sorry and-”

“Shut up.” The command sent you silent as you stopped pulling the ring from your finger, eyes going wide in shock. JJ shook his head in disbelief and you were somehow so terrified of what he was going to say. This could very well be the end of everything you’d been through all because you couldn’t be honest with him.

“You… you think I would leave you? Over this?” JJ’s emotions were getting the best of him now and he couldn’t pull his gaze from your teary one. “I have your initials inked into my skin. Do you really think I would do that?”

You shrugged. “I’m not… I’m just giving you an out. Incase you want it.”

“Why would I ever want that?” He was much louder now and you almost took a step back before reminding yourself that this was JJ, your JJ. “Why would I ever leave you over something you can’t control? Sweetheart, I love you more than anything. If you wanted kids, fine, we would have them. But if you didn’t, or you couldn’t, that’s okay. I’m not willing to risk losing you over some annoying ass toddler that messes up all my shit for a handful of years.”

He pointed the small pink stick in your direction, his own eyes wet as his frustration carried into his tone. You knew it wasn’t directed at your actions, rather the way your head had been handling everything, but it still felt weird. “Don’t you ever, and I mean ever hide something like this from me just because your head is telling you, I don’t want you. Because-”

The door slammed open at the worst opportunity possible, both you and JJ turning to see Sarah and John B looking back. You gasped at them, knowing everything probably looked and sounded so wrong. “Oh, fuck.”

“It’s mine!” Sarah practically yelled, running forward to grab the test from JJ’s hand as she stood in front of him at her full height. “It’s mine, okay? And drop the fucking tone with her, JJ. You have no idea what she’s been through and-”

“Hey, it’s-” John B held a hand in front of you when you went to intercept Sarah. JJ’s eyes were wide at the words coming out of the girl’s mouth but he didn’t argue back with her.

“Sarah, he didn’t-”

She turned to hold a finger to you before continuing to lay into JJ. “If you so much as think about saying another nasty word to her, I’ll cut your dick off in your sleep. I swear to God, JJ, you have-”

“He wasn’t doing anything!” You blurted out when her threat became a little too realistic for your liking. “We were talking, okay and-”

“He was yelling-”

“Because I was being selfish!” You snapped at John B, frustration and emotion boiling over. “I should’ve told him everything a while ago, and I didn’t. This is on me, okay? Leave him alone.”

Three sets of eyes watched you carefully as you laid the most vulnerable pieces of you out for them to see.

“It’s my fault,” You nearly broke there, a breathy hiccup escaping as you tried to keep it calm. “I don’t want the pity. I don’t need it. I should’ve fought back against him, tried to defend myself more but I-”

John B shook his head, his voice breaking as he whispered your name.

You ignored him and looked straight at JJ. “He ruined the best thing I could ever give you. You deserved the chance to correct all the things your dad did to you, the things he put you through. All I wanted was to give you everything you never had, to be everything you never had because you deserve that and so much more. And I let Rafe Cameron of all people ruin me… I’m ruined for you.”

You felt like you were witnessing a slow motion car crash. All of your nightmares had consisted of one thing: losing. Losing JJ, losing your friends, losing yourself. You felt like it was coming to life in front of you.

“I can’t do this.”

Stabbing you in the heart would’ve hurt less than JJ’s statement, but you had to accept it. You gave him an out and he was taking it. Part of you wanted him to blame you because it would at least give you some confirmation on what he was thinking. All you could do was nod and look at the floor. You’d finally done it, you’d manage to push away the one person who knew you inside and out and you only had yourself to blame.

“I can’t sit here and let you think a single word of that is true.” JJ pulled at his hair. God, you looked so broken in front of him and he couldn’t believe this whole night was turning in this direction. He crossed the room to hold your face in his hands, heart breaking at the tears on your cheeks and the way you shivered from his touch. “I’ve told you time and time again that you’re everything to me. I don’t give a flying fuck if you walked out of that whole nightmare with one eyeball and four fingers on one hand. You walked out and you’re still here. That’s what matters. You are and you will continue to be my entire world. I told you tonight, and I will continue to tell you every single day if that’s what you need.”

“And you’re the furthest thing from ruined.” Sarah reminded you that she was in the room, John B crying behind her as they watched the scene from a small distance. “God, you’re literally perfect. A great boyfriend, a great brother, amazing friends. You’re so kind and selfless, and you’re so dedicated to each and every one of us in ways that nobody else is. I give you one look and you’re already on the same wavelength as me without a word. I’m not going to stand here and watch the future godmother and favorite aunt of my child think so negatively about herself when she is easily one of the best things in each of our lives.”

JJ was there to catch you when you sobbed, your whole body nearly collapsing in relief that he knew everything now, that you weren’t carrying what felt like the weight of the world on your shoulders.

“I suck at sappy shit, everyone c’mere.” John B managed to pull a laugh out of the group, the four of you hugging each other tightly in the middle of your bedroom like the world around didn’t exist. Sarah, John B, and JJ had seen the worst pieces of you and still loved you unconditionally. It was time to get out of your head and embrace it, no matter how much you wanted to hide away.

“Now that that’s over with… you’re fucking pregnant?!”

The chaos of the night finally settled down enough after JJ expressed his excitement for John B and Sarah. He didn’t hesitate to guide you to bed shortly after, mumble apologies being shared that tonight didn’t go differently, but you reassured him you had forever to celebrate it. Sarah eventually curled up next to you, the two of you in a fitful sleep for as long as you could while the boys stayed up to keep an eye on Groff.

Sarah was scrolling on her phone when you woke up a few hours later. She looked over her case to smile at you as you groaned loudly and stretched.

“Are you and John B actually going to apply for a marriage license?” Your voice was raspy as you spoke, your eyes meeting hers as you shifted on your side to look at her.

She dropped her phone to the comforter. “I think so, unless he changed his mind from yesterday. That was the plan.”

You nodded, a small smile growing on your face. “Are you nervous?”

Sarah let out a breathy laugh. “Hardly. I just can’t believe all the shit that happened in the last 24 hours.”

The two of you conversed for a few moments longer before climbing out of bed to get ready for the day. While Sarah busied herself finding a cute white dress (one of her own, this time), you quickly changed and did your morning routine before settling in to help her curl her hair.

“Ready?” You asked as she slipped her shoes on and turned off the light. She nodded, grabbing your hand to pull you down the stairs. Cleo was eating a sandwich in the kitchen and looked up as you entered.

“Don’t tell me I’m losing another one today?” Her eyebrow raised in curiosity as Sarah practically skipped outside.

“We have to share the same last name for a little bit, right?” You winked in her direction, the pieces falling together before she shook her head jokingly.

JJ, Pope, and John B were already outside, apparently packing the Twinkie to head to Larissa’s grave with Groff. Your brother was literally pacing a path into the grass, his head snapping up as Sarah stepped off the porch with a tiny squeal.

“Let’s make this quick,” JJ was oblivious to the couple next to you and rubbed at his face to wake himself up.

You hid your smile behind your hand as John B and Sarah stared at each other for a moment, both of them red in the face as she finally reached your brother’s side.

“Hey, we’re gonna get out of your hair, actually,” John B’s voice was so absentminded as he kept his eyes on Sarah, completely disregarding JJ’s confused look. He pointed in your general direction as he took her hand. “Love you, see you in a few. Don’t do anything stupid.”

You shifted into your fiancé’s shoulder, his arm falling around you as he took in the duo for the first time this morning. Pope gave you a confused glance to which you just held up your left hand and pointed to the ring on your finger. He nodded, much easier to communicate wordlessly with than JJ would be.

“I, uh, okay?” JJ’s confusion made you laugh as Sarah and John B disappeared around the side of the house without a word, small talk being shared between the two of them as they made their way down the dock. He turned to look at you and clocked the smile on your face. “Something to share with the class?”

You shook your head, pushing up on your toes to kiss him. “Not in the slightest. You ready to go?”

JJ glanced between the Twinkie and the porch where Groff was getting to his feet. “How about you stay here with the girls and Pope? I… this is my mom. I feel like it should be personal, you know?”

You glared at him. “What did John B say?”

The way he took a step back already told you the answer. “No, nothing. Nothing, I just think I should give this a shot, on my own, you know?”

“JJ, I swear-”

He grabbed your shoulders carefully. “I love you. And if shit goes south, I can’t risk having you in danger with me not being able to help. So, please. Stay here, with them, and I’ll be back. Okay?”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” You admitted quietly, your hand grabbing on his wrist. You weren’t so convinced by his reasoning and with Groff giving you weird vibes, you really didn’t like this idea. “Be careful? I know he’s supposedly your dad and all but…”

JJ nodded in understanding, his eyes catching on someone behind you. “Told you I’ll always come home to you, and I mean it. Love you, sweet girl.”

He kissed you softly, hand slipping from your shoulder to hold your neck gently. You hummed in satisfaction, your fingers grabbing his flannel to pull him slightly closer.

“Alright, lovebirds.” Groff’s voice ruined your goodbye as he stopped next to you. Pulling away from JJ, you gave the man a sharp glare, unamused by his comments and whatever assumed power he thought he had over JJ.

Rolling your eyes, you gave JJ one more kiss. “Love you, please be careful.”

You stepped away from him to head back inside, but an unfamiliar hand landed on your shoulder, stopping your retreat. You turned back to Groff, looking at him expectantly. He cleared his throat and removed his hand, pointing down at the ring on your finger. “I…um. I always wanted a daughter, Larissa did too. I’m glad you’ll be joining our family one day.”

The disgust on your face was very evident as you stared back at him, forcing a nod. “Yeah, considering you gave away your own son, I’m finding that hard to believe.”

Groff gave you a short nod before turning to climb into the Twinkie’s passenger seat as JJ slammed the door of the driver’s side. You shook your head as the van started and drove away, the sinking feeling in your stomach building with each passing moment.

“You feel the same way I do about this?” Pope asked as he joined your side, the two of you watching the van disappear out on the road.

You sighed, “We shouldn’t have let him go alone. That man is the biggest manipulator if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Now all we can do is wait and hope he comes back, preferably without that pathetic excuse for a man.”

While JJ busied himself adventuring with his dad, Pope and Cleo went out to grab gas for the boats with the remainder of the five grand down payment Wes Genrette had given. You and Kiara busied yourselves trying to get some items together for the potential trip to Morocco (if it happened) but mostly trying to downsize to what could be taken to Ward’s rental condo. The property was left in Sarah’s name, thankfully away from Rose’s evil claws, so your group could try to wiggle in as best as possible, but the three bedroom condo was no match for your family of seven, and soon to be a baby.

“I’m gonna grab supplies and shit from outside,” You said with a huff, brushing the sweat from your forehead. “Be right back.”

Kie was head first in making sandwiches and food to take along, so you dipped out of the room by yourself. The wind was refreshing, blowing across your skin as the two of you headed into the store area to collect your items.

You grabbed a handful of first aid items, shoving them in your worn backpack with as much organization as you could muster.

Humming along to the music on your phone, you moved fluidly to grab random supplies from the walls, figuring the store wouldn’t need them much anyway considering the property wasn’t yours soon.

Something moved in your peripheral and you turned to see the Twinkie parked outside again. A small frown formed on your face; you didn’t think JJ and Groff would be back that quick. Walking out, you glanced to catch sight of the blond boy but came up short.

“Babe?” You called out, heading toward the driver side in case they were still talking inside. Except, they weren’t. Nobody was inside, actually. “JJ?”

You spun on your heels in hopes of him popping out, but still no sight of him. Setting your course to the house in hopes that he’d be there instead, you were met with Chandler Groff popping out of the side door in what looked like a hurry.

Stopping, you crossed your arms and glared at him. “Can I help you?”

He had the tube containing the scroll in his hand, and motioned toward it. “Uh, hi. I uh, I just came to grab the scroll to make sure it’s not just the artifact from the mausoleum.”

His rushed tone told you there was more to the story but you nodded. “Mhmm, um. Where’s JJ?”

“Oh, he stayed behind at the family plot. He sent me to retrieve this. I thought I’d give him some time alone, you know?” He took a few steps toward you, that you immediately repeated in the opposite direction to put some distance back. Any further and you’d be against the Twinkie and out of options.

You dug your fingers into your arm. “He certainly got his lying skills from Luke because I don’t believe you in the slightest.”

Groff laughed but you could tell it was forced. “Well, you hardly know me, of course you aren’t going to believe me. You can ask your friend in there… uh Kiara is it? She seemed fine with the idea.”

“Oh so you won’t mind if I just call him, then?” You reached into your pocket where your phone was still playing music.

“Yeah, yeah you should. You should call him. He’ll confirm. Go ahead.”

Your back hit the metal of the van as Groff continued to push into your space. You glanced down, swiping for the FaceID to activate and unlock before completely bypassing checking JJ’s location and instead pressing the lock buttom twice. Times like these you really thanked Sarah for helping you set up the shortcuts she did.

All it took was that one split second before Groff’s hands were shoving you and your head collided with the window of the Twinkie, glass shattering from the impact. Your phone slipped from your hands and you gasped, knees giving out as you grabbed your head in pain.

“Kie!” The scream tore through your throat but was cut off as Groff grabbed your throat and yanked you off the ground.

Panic set in instantly, all of your senses blurring as images of Rafe flashed in front of you. You struggled to get air in your lungs and gasped, hands shoving and feet kicking like it would do you any good.

One last hit to your head, and the sweet dark relief took over.

Then silence.

You weren’t sure if you were awake.

There had been moments like this in the past when you were at the Camerons’, so blissed and drugged out that you couldn’t tell the difference from reality or hallucinations. Like a sensory tank, there was no light or noise. Just you and your racing thoughts and the loud thump of your heart in your ears.

Here you were, all over again. No sense of where you were, what had happened, or who was around. You could barely breathe and the hefty duct tape on your mouth stole your inability to speak. The sharp bite of pain when you tried to move was thanks to zip ties that were too tight, and you realized how utterly stuck you were.

The tears came first, followed by the hyperventilating. You tried running through the methods they taught you in therapy, the counting, the timed breathing. JJ’s voice was echoing in your head to keep your airways open and not clench your hands but JJ wasn’t here, you couldn’t move, and one of your main airways was not an option.

An attempted cry left your body, but you doubted anyone could hear it. It was so muffled and quiet that it might as well have been a whisper in a concert arena.

You were going to die. You were going to die here, alone, with nothing but the thoughts in your head to keep you company. You hoped Kiara was okay. Hoped that none of your friends would be the ones to find you, if they even could.

The tears were unstoppable now, small sobs escaping as you tried to pull air in your lungs but it was getting harder. It felt like someone’s hand squeezing around your throat.

Tighter, tighter, tighter.

Gone.

Kiara was a stranger to what it felt like being knocked unconscious. Hell, the closest she’s ever gotten was because of Pope nearly concussing her with an ore a couple of weeks ago. It was never from being punched in the head and colliding with the table.

The headache was killer, enough to send her vision swaying but she forced herself to her feet. “Ah, fuck.” Her fingers poked the area where the pain was radiating, but no blood came back so she considered that a good sign.

“Kie!”

John B’s scream was not a good one, and it was enough to get her moving out of the house to see him sprinting across the yard with Pope, Cleo, and Sarah close behind.

“What’s happening?” Her voice was much quieter than she expected as the all moved toward her. Pope’s hands were gentle as they hovered her face, taking in the bruising on her cheek.

“What happened to you?” Cleo asked, wincing at the injury.

Kiara shook her head, “I can’t… just give me a second.”

“Where is she?” John B asked, eyes scanning the entire ground. He was on the verge of screaming or crying, or shit maybe he needed to throw up. “The SOS text came from her phone, fro-from the shortcut, where is she?”

“John B!” Sarah picked up the device in question that was resting in the grass near the van, the music still playing from it loud enough that she could hear.

The sight of your case made his heart drop. “Shit, stay here. Check the house,” He directed toward Pope and Cleo, practically sprinting toward Sarah.

“It seems fine,” She commented, “Music still on and everything. Maybe she did it accidentally?”

Except, John B wasn’t looking at the phone in Sarah’s hand. His eyes were locked on the nearly shattered window behind her head, a window that hadn’t been fucked up before. Sarah noticed his silence and looked over her shoulder, the broken glass answer enough that no you didn’t do this accidentally.

John B yelled your name again, nothing following his call, so he took off running into the shop with hopes that maybe you would be there. If Kiara was in the house, chances were, you weren’t.

Except the shop was empty, besides your backpack resting on the counter with various shit scattered around it.

“Is she in here?” Sarah asked as she ran up behind John B, her eyes scanning the room for any sight of you. “John B?”

“What the fuck?” You brother tugged at his hair and moved to where your bag was sitting as he tried to look for any clue, anything, that would tell him where you were. “No, no, no. We can’t do this again. I-I.. I told her I’d never let something like this happen, what if-”

“John B, John B, hey!” Sarah grabbed his face as gently as possibly. “Do not lose your shit. Not right now. She needs you, okay?”

His hands were fucking shaking and suddenly, this was too scary for him. Something had happened, and now you were missing.

“Look, look. I’ll get you a water and we can see if Kie remembers anything okay? It’s probably a miscommunication and-” Sarah turned toward the red Coca-Cola cooler that usually housed the ice for cold drinks and stopped short at the screw driver wrenched between one of the closures. “Did you lock this?”

John B pulled his hand from his face to look at what she was referring to. “What? No, we never…”

Sarah ripped the screwdriver out in a second, flipping the latch to unlock the lid so she could pry it open. “John B!”

The Routledge boy jumped forward to look and nearly threw up his breakfast. “Move, move!”

Reaching down, he grabbed ahold of your unmoving body, your skin so pale and cold that he didn’t know what to do. His knees hit the ground hard as he laid you down, hands moving to shake you. “Wake up, hey. Wake up!”

Sarah called your name, her touch gentle as she pulled the duct tape off your mouth, but you still didn’t move. “John B, she’s not breathing!”

“Pope, help!”

Like a series of deja vu, John B’s hands went to your chest to push down harshly, the rhythmic movement too familiar for comfort. Sarah had been in this same position under his hands before, a gunshot wound to her hip and barely enough blood to keep her alive. John B never wanted to do this again, and he sure as shit never wanted to do it to you.

“Pinch her nose, and breathe in her mouth,” He gasped out in an attempt to keep the sobs at bay. “Pope!”

Sarah followed the directions, pinching your nose and opening your mouth to push air back into your lungs. She was shaking, barely able to see through her tears.

A series of footsteps came seconds later, and Pope swore his whole world stopped at the sight ahead of him. You, his practically adopted sister, lying still on the floor as John B attempted CPR. Kiara nearly screamed, and Cleo stood in shock as Pope flung forward to take over the compressions with more confidence and precision.

“Go, again,” He directed to Sarah as John B tumbled back against the counter in shock. Pope started his compressions again, keeping his count outloud.

Kiara stumbled to your brother’s side, wrapping her arms around him as they stared on, horrified. Cleo moved to grab scissors, her careful movement cutting the zip ties from your ankles as Pope continued to put pressure on your chest.

And then you coughed.

And Pope fell into a fit of tears. Removing his hands from your chest, he fell back on his ass in what felt like exhaustion.

“Aye! You okay?” Cleo was trying to keep a level head but the way her heart was pounding against her chest told her otherwise. She’d never been so close to losing someone, not like this. She carefully snipped the remaining ziptie and your hands instantly reached for Sarah, who cried into your hair and helped you sit up.

Despite your wishes, you couldn’t get your voice to work and opted for nodding instead. Your throat ached and your head felt like it was going to shatter into pieces, and you were so, so cold.

“Holy shit,” Pope choked out as he watched you blink and your own chest move air into your body. Your head was reeling at all of their concern and voices so you closed your eyes and continued to focus on just evening out the flow of air.

John B ripped himself out of Kiara’s arms and next to Sarah the second he got a grasp on what the fuck just happened. “Hey, hi. You’re okay. It’s okay now.”

You reached out to grab John B’s hand, squeezing enough to let him know you could hear him and were responsive. Sarah’s warmth left your side a moment after and John B easily took her place, his arms cradling you against him like you were a small child as he cried into your hair.

Wrapping your arms around him, you blinked your eyes open to see Pope sitting in front of you with Cleo rubbing his shoulder soothingly, Kie leaning against his side. He quickly brushed the tears from his cheeks but it already told you everything.

You mouthed a thank you and cuddled in closer to John B’s chest, opting to just breathe breathe breathe.

You weren’t sure what the fuck had just happened, but it seemed like your friends were about to have one crazy ass story to tell.

John B did not let you out of his sight.

After carrying you back to the house and directing Sarah to help you into your warmest sweatshirt and sweatpants, he looked to Kiara for answers.

The girl’s brainfog had thankfully cleared and she was about to recount Groff showing up, claiming he and JJ found the lens and needed the scroll. When Kiara asked where her friend was, Groff knocked her out, which meant her intercepted you next.

Nobody wanted to ask questions, but the SOS text on their phone screens was hard to pull their eyes off of.

When everyone had phones replaced following El Dorado, Sarah had made sure to set up a shortcut that sent an SOS text with a location to the group chat in case of an emergency. She hoped it would never be used, but she was so thankful you thought quick enough to use it in this situation. She didn’t even want to think about what would happen if not.

“Here.” She handed you an warm cup of tea with honey in hopes that it would help soothe the soreness in your throat but the handprint outside on your skin told her otherwise. After helping you crawl under the covers, she sent a quick text to John B that you were settled before the group came tumbling in.

Your brother instantly threw himself next to you near the top of the best, shifting so you could lean against him and he could keep a hand on your arm at all times. Kiara took your other side, sitting crisscross as she held an ice pack to her head.

“Y’all are dramatic,” Your voice was practically gone as you joked with them before taking another sip of your tea.

“And you sound like you smoke six packs a day,” Cleo chimed back with a teasing smile on her face. “Save your voice, girly. We got you.”

You gave her a weak smile.

The next twenty minutes consisted of everyone sharing what the fuck had happened in the past few hours. Pope and Cleo nearly got wiped out by Kelce which caused them to collide with Sarah and John B who had been running from Topper and Ruthie. Kiara took a gnarly blow to the head like you did, and JJ was still absent from the group.

Splendid.

“So, what? Groff left with the map and lens and JJ’s still with him?” Pope recounted as he started to pace the floor.

Your calls to JJ had been ignored and considering he didn’t show up with the SOS text, you were really worried Groff had gotten to him. Your fingers moved across the screen to pull up his location again and you dropped it on the center of the bed so your friends could see his location pinging from the middle of the ocean.

Turning to John B, you tried to communicate with your hands that you all needed to leave, but he was unamused. “No, no. You’re not leaving this room, let alone this house any time soon. You hear me? Grounded.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your phone from the comforter to open your notes app and type away.

Then you guys need to go. If something happens to him and I’m the reason you didn’t go, I’ll never forgive myself.

You shoved the device in John B’s direction, watching as he skimmed the words before shaking his head slightly. Annoyed by his silence, you moved it over so Sarah could read it instead.

“She’s got a point, John B. We need to go.”

John B took a look around the room, everyone’s expressions matching Sarah’s as they read the message on your phone. He hated this, the thought of pulling you out of a safe space after he just nearly broke your ribs from the force of his own hands because you weren’t breathing.

“Fine, fine,” He admitted defeat when even Cleo nudged her head in the direction of the water. “Go get your shit. I need to talk to this one first.”

Your eyes were going to get stuck in the back of your head if you rolled them again so you just sighed and flopped against the pillows as everyone scattered. Sarah patted your knee through the covers, reassuring she’d grab your backpack and everything before slipping out the door, leaving you with your brother.

You quickly typed on your phone as John B watched you.

I’m not arguing with you via notes app, bro.

He laughed and leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Don’t wanna argue. Just um…” He let out a breath, tears filling his eyes faster than he intended. “You really scared me, out there. And I don’t like the idea of you getting thrown back into danger, but the idea of leaving you here is even worse. So I need you… I really need you to promise me something.”

John B shifted to sit where you could see him easier and not strain your neck looking up at him. He grabbed the phone from your hand and let it fall, taking both of your palms into his. “I need you to promise me that you’ll stick with Sarah. And you won’t go throwing yourself in front of anyone if it comes to it. You… you both mean way too much for me to lose you to a stupid fucking treasure hunt. Okay?”

You squeezed his hands and nodded, because it’s really all you could do. So you did.

And now, you needed to find JJ… but nothing was ever that simple for you all, was it?

a/n: did i redeem myself??? also john b is not over what just happened and i think another crashout is coming

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#outer banks x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #outer banks #goy series #outer banks imagine #jj maybank imagine #john b routledge #obx jj #jj outer banks #outer banks jj #jj x reader #jj maybank angst #jj maybank x reader series #jj maybank x routledge!reader #john b routledge x sister!reader #routledge!reader #Spotify

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justagalwhowrites · 2 days ago

Text

Fucksgiving 2k24: Growing Family

You and Joel try to patch things up with your father while starting a family of your own. A Thanksgiving oneshot in the Stranger in a Bar universe.

^This is how I pictured this Joel as I was writing, with his lil tie on. Sorry not sorry.

Pairing: DBF!Joel x Female Reader (from Stranger in a Bar)

Length: 3.8k

CW: BREEDING KINK. Unprotected P in V for obvious reasons. Planning for pregnancy. Age gap (Joel is 20 years older, reader is 35 and Joel is 55.) Reader's dad is kind of a dick. No outbreak AU. Can be read as a stand alone fic with the understanding that Joel was reader's dad's bestie and he and reader are living together after dating years prior. No use of Y/N, minors DNI 18+ only.

A/N: Here's something to read while you navigate your own Thanksgiving dinner situations which are, hopefully, less awkward than this one. Happy Thanksgiving!!

“I mean it,” you said, clutching the casserole dish of mashed potatoes tightly to your stomach. “Best. Behavior.”

“When am I ever not on my best behavior?” Joel asked, his hand on the small of your back possessively.

You stopped in the middle of the drive on the mercifully long walk to your parents’ front door to stare at him, incredulous.

“When are you?” You asked, brows raised. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you behave yourself, not once, especially not where my dad is involved…”

“Alright,” he chuckled good naturedly. “I’ll do my best.”

“You’d better,” you said. “He’s just coming around to this, OK? I’d rather not blow it.”

“I know, baby,” he said, kissing your temple. “I’ll be good. Promise.”

“Thank you,” you said, continuing up to the front door.

“Your dad needs to behave too, though,” Joel said, sticking close to you. “Because I’m not gonna just let him say the same shit he always does, I don’t care.”

“Please try,” you said, ringing the doorbell. “If you do, I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Really?” He asked, his voice husky. “Dyin’ to know what you mean by that.”

“I mean,” you said, keeping your voice low. “Given how much I want to fuck your brains out, I’m pretty sure I’m ovulating and I can think of all kinds of ways you can try to knock me up - hey Mom!”

“Hey, honey!” Your mom opened the door and pulled you in for a hug. You just caught Joel’s expression out of the corner of your eye, his mouth slightly agape as he stared at you. “Oh, it’s so good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you, too,” you gave her a squeeze, carefully angling the casserole dish away from her before stepping back. “We come bearing potatoes.”

“So you do!” She said, taking the dish before turning to your boyfriend and taking a deep breath. “Joel. Always good to see you.”

You looked to Joel and saw him collect himself for half a second before smiling to your mom.

“Good to see you, too,” he said. “Been a while.”

“Yeah,” she smiled a little bigger and reached out to give his arm a squeeze. “It has.”

You gave Joel an encouraging smile as the two of you followed your mother into a kitchen that was overflowing with dishes.

“Can I help?” You asked, laughing a little as you looked around.

“Oh…” she sighed, looking around before she laughed, too. “Yes, yes please. Your father has been utterly useless, just wandering around, muttering to himself. Not that he’s the most helpful in the kitchen but he’s not completely incompetent…”

“He’s good on the grill,” you said. “Kitchen… eh.”

“Well, yes,” she giggled conspiratorially. “But I try to give him credit where it’s due. Usually I’m not on my own for a holiday but this year he’s been… something.”

You just hummed in agreement and started in on the green beans because you were pretty sure you knew the reason why your dad was acting strange and that reason was currently asking your mom how she wanted the cucumber cut for the salad.

Joel and your father had barely spoken in the six months since you’d moved back to Austin and gotten back together with Joel.

Not that you were too surprised about that. He was, after all, one of your dad’s closest friends and was much closer to his age than your own. You hadn’t exactly expected the news of your relationship to go over well but it had been even worse than you’d anticipated.

You’d arranged to talk to your parents in public when you decided to tell them. Neutral ground, as it were. Plus, you were pretty sure your father would be less likely to punch Joel in the face if you were in public.

It ended up not making much of a difference.

“You’re what!” Your father stood up so fast that his chair fell over, the sharp clatter of the wood on the tile restaurant floor and violence of his tone plunging the once bustling room into silence.

“Dad,” you said gently. “It’s not a big deal…”

“The hell it’s not!” He yelled, looking between the two of you. “When the fuck did this start, hm? When the hell did you start fucking my daughter!”

“Why don’t you sit down and…” Joel began, but your dad didn’t let him finish.

“Don’t you dare tell me what to do,” he put his finger inches from Joel’s face. “She is a child!”

“I’m 35!” You gaped at him. “Dad, you’re being ridiculous!”

“You’re already in hot water,” he snapped at you. “So keep your damn mouth shut while…”

“Don’t talk to her that way,” Joel said, standing up with too much force, his voice hot. “You got a problem with me, handle it with me, don’t take it out on her.”

“Don’t you tell me how to treat my own fucking kid!” Your dad yelled. “I’ll handle her however I damn well please!”

You weren’t sure who threw the first punch but it devolved quickly then, your mother pulling your father away while you dragged Joel back, both men bloody and panting for breath.

You kept your distance from your father after that. You talked to your mom regularly - she was smart enough to give up on trying to talk you out of your relationship quickly and, eventually, was even happy for you - but your father took some time.

After a while, he was willing to talk to you. Your mother must have given him strict rules - he didn’t try to talk you out of your relationship or question Joel’s integrity - but it was stiff and awkward.

Thanksgiving had been your mom’s idea. Joel was hesitant but - after you conspired with Sarah (you and Joel’s daughter becoming fast friends once you moved past the awkwardness of your closeness in age) so she would stay in Dallas to go to have dinner with her boyfriend’s family - he’d agreed eventually.

“If this don’t prove how much I love you, woman,” he’d grumbled as he tied his tie that morning.

“You? Love me?” You asked, adjusting the knot under his chin. “News to me…”

“Uh huh,” he smiled a little, just enough to make his cheek dimple.

“Never said it,” you had to fight to hold your smirk back. “Definitely not 20 times while you were inside me last night…”

“That don’t sound like me at all,” he teased back before going to kiss your cheek. “You look beautiful, baby.”

“Well, I do have a hot date.”

“Really? When’s he showing up?”

You glared at him and he laughed before giving you another kiss.

“Let’s go before I lose my damn nerve,” he said. “Gonna be the most awkward Thanksgiving ever.”

For a little while, there in the kitchen with just Joel and your mother, you almost forgot how awkward this was supposed to be.

You and Joel moved around each other in tandem now. You’d been living together for months and you’d fallen into sync so fast it was almost strange when you stopped to think about it. When you’d moved in with your ex, it took what felt like a small eternity to really understand the flow of his life, to subconsciously recognize where he was going in the kitchen when you were cooking side by side, to remember to consider him when making decisions big and small. With Joel, it was almost instantaneous. There had been no odd fumbling around each other as you went through your lives under one roof, no putting one brand of peanut butter back to pick up the one you suddenly remembered he preferred, no confusion or frustration when you came home from the office to find him not back yet. It all clicked, like you’d been built to do this alongside each other all along. Even in the unfamiliar space of your parents’ kitchen, his hand found the small of your back as he moved behind you to get a serving bowl and you just knew which knife to pass him from the block beside you when he went to reach for it.

Things shifted when your sister showed up about an hour and a half before dinner, her arrival finally coaxing your father out from wherever he’d been hiding since you and Joel had gotten there.

“Hey Dad,” you smiled at him after he finished greeting your sister and he stood, hovering awkwardly in the kitchen. “Good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too, princess,” he said pulling you in for a quick hug.

He turned his attention to Joel then, looking him up and down like he would an adversary.

“Joel,” he said, nodding once.

“Hey man,” Joel said, holding his hand out. Your father’s jaw twitched but he shook Joel’s hand all the same. “Good to see you.”

Your father just grunted before going to the fridge and getting out a beer. Joel followed him and you and your mother exchanged worried glances.

“Think the Cowboys are gonna pull out a win this year?” Joel asked.

Your dad held his beer for a moment, looking like he was considering just not responding but then seemed to think better of it.

“We’ll see,” he said. “With their record, I’d settle for not getting our asses handed to us.”

Things were easier after that. Your father and Joel disappeared to the living room and you heard the telltale sounds of football follow immediately after.

“I still can’t believe you’re fucking Dad’s weirdly hot friend!” Your sister said, just quiet enough that your mother was out of earshot. “Or that you were for years, forever ago! Seriously, there are rules about holding back to your sister like that.”

“You don’t need to know everything I do, you know,” you said.

“No but I need to know everyone you do,” she said. You snorted. “So… you think it’s going to last?”

“Well, we’re trying for kids,” you said, putting the last of the shredded cheese on the mac and cheese. “So it’d better.”

“What!” She yelped.

“What?” Your mom ran over. “Everyone OK? Did you burn yourself?”

“We’re good,” you smiled. “Just catching up. Sister shit, you know.”

“Yeah,” your sister said. “Sister shit.”

Your mother went back to the other side of the kitchen and your sister mouthed oh my God at you and you fought the urge to laugh. Your dad might hate your boyfriend but at least you could count on your sister to be your sister.

Eventually, the rest of the family came over, too, and everyone settled around the overly full dining room table, Joel sitting beside you with a reassuring hand on your knee as he made small talk with one of your uncles.

Dinner went surprisingly well, at least until everyone was a few glasses of wine deep and your father decided to pick a fight.

“So, Joel,” he said, setting his wine glass down with a little too much force. “Not sure if I should thank you for getting my daughter to move back home or if I should blame you for her obsession with being a failed musician for a living.”

“Dad!” Your sister gaped at him. “What the fuck!”

“Language, please!” Your mother said.

“Just seems to be real clear to me now,” he said. “Doubt she’d be so stuck on playing that damn guitar all the time if it weren’t for your bad influence.”

“Bad influence?” You laughed. “Dad, I’m almost middle aged, I’m not some impressionable teenager. I love my work, I don’t consider myself to be a failure just because I do music therapy instead of being a rock star, I…”

“You could have actually done something with yourself, you know,” he cut you off. “Instead, you decided to drive your life into the ground with this man and some bullshit career path…”

“Watch it,” Joel said sharply. “Not gonna let you talk to her that way. You will treat her with respect or I will make you treat her with respect.”

“Respect?” Your dad asked, his eyebrows raised. “You’re gonna sit there, in my house, at my table and lecture me about respect when you decided to take up with my daughter?”

“Stop it!” You shoved your chair back, throwing your napkin on your gravy smeared plate. “Both of you! Dad, stop acting like your my keeper and that I don’t have any goddamn agency because you raised me! Joel, stop acting like I need you to defend my honor! Just… fucking stop it!”

“Baby,” Joel said but you ignored him, stalking off to the guest room at the back of your parents’ house, needing some space from everyone.

You let yourself cry for a minute, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at an old family photo of you with your parents and sister, back when you were just 10 years old. Your hand drifted to your lower stomach. You weren’t pregnant yet - at least, not that you knew - but you couldn’t imagine your child doing anything that would make you as mad at them as your father seemed to be at you loving Joel.

There was a soft knock at the door and you wiped your eyes on the backs of your wrists.

“Yeah?”

“S’me,” Joel said quietly. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” you sniffed.

He came in, closing the door gently behind him before sitting next to you.

“You OK?” He asked after a moment.

“I will be,” you sniffed again.

“I’m sorry baby,” he said, reaching out and cupping your face, his thumb tracing the arch of your cheekbone. “Know I promised to be on my best behavior but… Look, him being a dick to me is fine, I can handle that. I just can’t watch him say that shit to you. But that don’t mean I should get… aggressive and…”

“It’s not your fault,” you said. “I’d do the same thing if I were you, I can’t really blame you for it. And I appreciate that you care about me…”

“I love you,” he smiled a little. “More than just about anything else. But that means I need to take care of you in the way you want me to, not just the way I want to do it.”

You smiled tightly before leaning in to kiss him. Joel kissed you back, gentle at first but, before long, something shifted, the kiss becoming hot and needy.

“Baby,” Joel said, his voice low. “Should… should probably get back out there…”

“They can wait,” you said, panting a little. “I want you.”

He groaned, nipping at your lower lip but still hesitating.

“Please, Joel,” you breathed, pressing yourself closer to him. “I need you. Let’s make a baby.”

“Fuck,” he said, his tone shifting, and then he was on you. His tongue plunged into your mouth as he lay you back on the bed.

He didn’t bother taking your panties off, just tucking them to the side and tugging the low v-neck of your sweater down to expose your cleavage.

“Christ, you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he groaned, cupping your sex with one hand and tugging your breasts free of your bra with the other. He mouthed at your nipple, licking and sucking over your breasts as he ground his palm against your clit, one thick finger slipping inside your seam to your already dripping entrance. “Don’t deserve you, baby.”

“Yes you do,” you whispered. “You deserve the world.”

He just moaned in response, kissing you again, one large hand cupping your breast, his thumb brushing your nipple.

It wasn’t long before he shoved his pants and underwear down just enough to free his cock and he jerked himself a few times with the hand that had become coated in your wetness. He notched himself at your entrance, his head thick and large and swollen, and pressed inside, a moment of resistance before your channel stretched over him and he buried himself within you.

He pulled his lips from yours, his head falling to the bed over your shoulder as he panted for breath.

“Goddamn you feel good,” he said, voice tight and hot in your ear. You rolled your hips up against him, making him moan.

“Good,” you said. “Love making you feel good, sometimes that’s all I want to do.”

“Fuck, you think your daddy hates me now,” he said. “If he knew what you do to me he’d shoot me.”

He started to fuck into you then, keeping his chest pressed tight to yours while his cock worked you hard and fast inside, his head finding that soft and tender place within you that built your orgasm fast with every stroke. He ground his cock against you there, his hips on your clit, making every ounce of need inside yourself gather tight and low.

“Fuck, Joel,” you panted. “I’m gonna come, you’re gonna make me come, I…”

“Good,” he growled. “Come for me, come while I get you pregnant, c’mon baby and come all over me.”

You had to bury your face in his shoulder to keep quiet, your orgasm hitting you hard and fast, your center fluttering over his thick length as he held himself inside you.

“Oh you like hearin’ that, huh?” He asked, breathless, starting to move again, already building your next orgasm as he did. “Like hearing how I’m gonna put a baby in my baby, that it?”

“Yes,” you groaned, your second climax growing quickly. “Yes, please, please, please, please…”

“You don’t gotta beg for it baby,” he said, pulling back from you enough to look you in the eyes as he spoke. “I’ll give you everything, as many babies as you want, fuck, gonna give you my baby right now, gonna make you pregnant, fuck!”

He buried his face in your neck and pressed himself so deep inside you as he came, the heat of him spilling into you in thick, heavy pulses.

“Fuck,” he said after he finished, kissing your neck before pulling back from you to kiss your lips, too. “Didn’t mean to come that quick, wanted to get you off one more time first.”

“It’s OK,” you said, panting, even though it was kind of a lie. You’d been so close to coming again that you felt tight inside your skin, an energy rippling over you that you knew you wouldn’t be able to shake until you came again once you got home.

“No, it’s not,” he said, sitting up and slowly, carefully pulling his softening cock from you. “Got you all worked up, not taking care of you the way you deserve if I don’t finish the job.”

You felt some of his come slip out of you but he caught it with the tip of his cock, pressing it back inside before tucking himself away in his underwear and cupping your swollen, aching sex.

“I’ll take care of you,” he said quietly. “Take care of you the rest of my life.”

He worked your clit, slow and gentle circles at first before his touch grew firmer, drawing your orgasm back to the surface in the way that only Joel seemed to know how to do. You came to his touch, feeling his thick come inside you as you did, like your body was trying to pull him even deeper inside.

“There you go,” he said, his eyes locked on your dripping pussy. “Fuck, so pretty, every damn inch of you.”

You panted for breath, relaxing down into the bed before suddenly remembering that your entire family was down the hall.

“Fuck,” you sighed. “We should get back.”

“We should,” Joel said, tugging your panties back in place and helping you cover your chest again before chuckling. “Think your daddy really might shoot me if he found us like this.”

You laughed and sat up, looking at Joel for a moment. You trailed your fingers through his hair and he smiled a little, his eyes crinkling at the edges.

“Really not sure why you think I’m worth all this trouble,” he said. “But I sure am thankful I have you.”

You smiled back.

“I’m thankful for you, too.”

You kissed him and he helped make sure your hair and makeup didn’t look like you just got fucked within an inch of your life before you emerged, the party having moved to the living room, your mom and aunts on one side of the room, your dad and uncles on the other, an uncomfortable silence falling when the two of you walked in.

“Joel,” your dad said, getting up and walking over with a sigh. “Look… not sure I’ll ever really be OK with this but… my daughter could do worse than a man seems to adore her and is willing to stand up for her.”

“I do adore her,” Joel said. “I love her. I want to do everything I can for here as long as she’ll let me.”

Your dad nodded slowly.

“Think I can live with that,” he said. “But you hurt her? I will kill you.”

Joel laughed a little.

“I expect nothing less.”

Joel and your dad seemed a little more like the friends they’d started out as after that, laughing and talking and watching football. When the two of you left for home, your father and mother walked you out, containers of leftovers in hand.

“It was so good to see you both,” your mom smiled, giving you a squeeze. “We’ll have to do this again. Soon.”

“We will,” you kissed her cheek before turning to your dad. “It’ll be nice.”

“It will,” he said before looking to Joel and holding out his hand. “Welcome to the family.”

Joel smiled a little, taking his hand and shaking it.

“Thanks for letting me in it.”

You smiled the whole drive home, Joel’s hand on your knee.

“So,” he said, looking at you conspiratorially as he pulled into the drive way. “Think the family will be even bigger next Thanksgiving?”

“I sure hope so,” you smiled. “But I think we’ll have fun trying either way.”

“Think we should try again now?” He asked, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles. “Because, you know… if you’re ovulating, should probably do it again. Seems like the smart move.”

You laughed, already adding pregnancy tests to your mental shopping list.

“Well we can’t start out our lives as parents doing the dumb thing,” you said and he laughed before the two of you went inside to try again to grow your family.

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #joel miller smut #breeding kink fic #breeding kink Joel miller #dbf!joel x reader #fucksgiving #stranger in a bar

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