#it always comes off more to me as 'these are the significant others of my kids so they are automatically on thin ice'

[yojeongin]

It’s my desire to give myself to you | p.js

→childhood friend!jisung x f!reader

genre: smut, romance, 80s au, childhood friends au, lost communication, open ended

synopsis: being the youngest in all friend groups has always proven to be beneficial for jisung but he’s no longer that little boy you met years ago. so why won’t you look at him for what he truly is: a man. he’ll have to prove it to you then.

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! obsessive and whiney jisung, oral (f receiving), pussy drunk jisung, vaginal fingering, implied age gap although it’s not significant, public indecency, unprotected sex, bratty jisung, praise kink, bulge kink, begging, creampie, virginity loss (virgin jisung), alcohol consumption, infantilization mentions, overbearing mother.

wc: 11.6k+ || soundtrack || ao3

© 2024 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other social media’s. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated and preferred!

an: happy end of the year fic, I’d consider this an accomplishment (writing 3 fics in one year lol)

Summers began to be the best thing for Jisung starting at the age of nine. He might have gone to summer camp reluctantly at first, not wanting to join his older brother. He had enough of seeing him all the time at school and home so why did his parents think it was fine to take away his precious summers of pretending to be an only child? It was a rough start, that’s for sure; but being taken under the wing of older kids served to be more fun.

Up until the age of sixteen he lived in bliss waiting for the day summer break to begin and be back where he felt free from the watchful eyes of his parents, only seeing them twice a month for visitations. As for his brother? He had his own life to run and the two barely bumped into each other which was a blessing in disguise for him. His bags were always packed weeks prior to the departing date and when his mother started to ask if he truly wanted to go –for she has been missing him terribly due to their increasing mommy-son dates– Jisung didn’t hesitate on turning her down. Summer camp is all he looked forward to, the only thing he put effort into school for.

Nowadays the only yearly highlight comes in Winter for the holidays in the form of season greetings cards. He’s learnt to conform. “You get what you get and you don’t complain.” Is what he told himself often and that’s all the fight he has left in him the faster the years pass by.

“No mail for me?” Jisung asks with that same pleading whine laced onto his voice upon entering his parent’s home. Leaning down to kiss his mother’s cheek while she shuffles through the mail. She hums, elongating her words while flipping through the envelopes of bills and season greetings. Hoping her hesitance would cement the feeling of disappointment onto her son once more. “Well, it doesn't seem so… Oh! No. Here you go.” His mom utters with a slight smile, cruel as it is. “Took them longer to send this year. Thought the Y/l/n girl was going to fully desert you this year.��� She quips balefully. Jisung gives her a quick glance before looking at the picture.

This is the most he sees and hears from you nowadays and it has become unsatisfactory. He wonders where things went wrong more often than he wants to. When he wakes up he thinks about it. When he brushes his teeth and showers he thinks about it. He’s burnt his hand thinking about why your letters minimize little by little every year and it so happens to be that this year he only received a happy birthday letter leaving him in the dark for the following ten months until today. If you can call it that, all the card says is: “May the beauty of the Holidays bless your home with happiness.” Signed off in golden glitter: The Y/l/n Family. No hand written note on your part, no acknowledgement at all. He’s sure your mother only sent it as his address hasn’t been erased from their address book. Otherwise, he’s not sure if his –hopefully– mother-in-law knows or remembers who he is.

“She’s been busy.” Jisung defends in a murmur, turning on his heel to walk upstairs to his room. “She told you that?” His mother yells back sardonically once he turns the corner. He ignores her but the glimmer of her pearly whites blind him through his peripheral view. A reminder that he can try to ignore reality but his mother will always be there to remind him. She wouldn’t understand it. She won’t understand when all she sees is that little nine year old coming back from camp excitedly telling her about the friends he made and the pretty girl he wouldn’t stop talking about.

Or the ten year old that was so ecstatic to come back and ask her for her pretty paper to write a letter to that same pretty girl that finally hugged him and gave him her address to write letters to. She took his too and put it in her ‘important things’ box. Jisung saw you do it.

But Jisung is twenty-two now and lives off of the crumbs he gets to devour whenever he rereads every single letter you’ve sent him. His favorite ones are the birthday letters when you send him pictures of yourself with cakes you’ve baked for him even if he couldn’t eat them. He’s content knowing you cared for him that much. He clings to hope more when this year the cake looked even prettier but not as pretty as you in the multiple pictures sent.

He doesn’t entirely care if you only sent one this year or that you did not reply to his own birthday letter for you. He’s glad that you still cared enough to bake him his cake and let him see how much prettier you’ve gotten. One of those pictures is in his wallet at the moment.

It’s insane, no? To fall so head over heels for someone that has never been his. Jisung has known you for over ten years but nothing has progressed past embraces, friendly hand holding, and constant cheek pinches because you found him awfully cute. He still feels your touches linger despite lastly seeing you in person at sixteen.

Longing is the word he’s looking for. Longing and yearning is all he’s done since that last time he saw you and it becomes worse through the years with little to no communication. He wonders if you���re truly that busy to not spare him a few minutes to write back. Or if you’ve found someone that has prohibited you from contacting him further.

He foolishly expected a letter for his college graduation the way you sent him one for his high school graduation but it never came. He’s kept in contact with his other summer camp friends but they’re no good with information regarding you. Most but one left in the dark about your whereabouts. The last he heard from Jaemin, you had gotten a job and as vague as it is, that’s all he told Jisung.

Useless but also valuable. He envies Jaemin sometimes. He was the only one able to get far more closer to you and he doesn’t fully know how to feel about it. While you spent treating Jisung like a child, like a younger brother, things were always complicated between you and Jaemin. Vague as he is, to be specific.

All he can do now is lay on his bed with a cassette he bought precisely because you recommended it. He doesn’t like it but he does like you so he will endure. Endure like he’s done with anything regarding his yearning for you.

With your deliciously perfumed letters, fountain ink stains all over the pages, and images of you scattered across his bed with the music full blast on his walkman— Jisung revels in the pleasure of your indirect touch. Your fingerprints embedded on the paper and their oils seeping into his own skin the way they did years ago with every single one of your touches. He wished those touches were far more than playful and cuteness aggression. That the times your fingers lingered were because you wanted him as near as he wanted you. But once again, he will conform.

Conform, conform, conform.

In his state, Jisung doesn’t hear his mother’s covert steps when he twirls on the bed with images of you laying on his face. And he surely doesn’t hear her when she cracks the door open to spot his hands lingering on his thighs, memories of the time Hyuck and Chenle snuck alcohol on the grounds and all of you had a ball with it. He remembers your hands vividly on his short-clad thighs, giving them gentle squeezes as you chewed his ear off. He remembers the names Ralph Machio and James Spader spewing from your lips here and there. He wanted to shut them up with his, consumed by jealousy but also wonder how they’d feel against his.

Of course he didn’t, the alcohol made things seem funnier than they were and he wouldn’t overstep. Not when he knew his role in the group was to be cute and be taken care of. That’s how you liked him most, he noticed.

And when he twists again to fight off the temptation of letting his fingers crawl to the hem of his pants, a face he’s known all his life is looking at him directly. Startling more when frustrated. “Park Jisung!” leaves her lips, sending his body into a shocking jolt and his walkman flying across the room. His body crushed the photographs he was admiring, much to her delight.

“Mom!” Jisung whines, holding onto his dangerously fast palpating heart. He huffs and pants, attempting to relax himself before dropping another word. “What?” He aims to say calmly but she’s far from that. Her hands on her hips and a stern look around his bed transmits her disappointment, disgust, and anger.

“I read your grandmother’s letter and it turns out she will be spending the remainder of the month with us after all.” Silent scoff, as if this was the most absurd thing. “Take a run to the mall and get her a gift. I didn’t count on her even contacting us.” Well, that explains her foul mood. It’s made worse when all he musters is a nod but doesn’t make an effort to stand up. God, how she would love to pull him by those raven locks or his ear. Whatever gets the message through.

“Well hurry!” That’s all she can muster.

So Jisung does, collecting everything he can and shoving it into a locked box while his mom turns to walk out the door. Embarrassed is all he feels besides shaken up from the scare he gained.

“Don’t forget your gloves and scarf. Don’t want you to catch another cold.” She mutters while mixing whatever she was cooking. It smelled fine but he knew her food became dangerous when cooking upset. It had a life of its own. He hums as a reply, wanting to leave it at that. “Jisung.” She calls again, calmly this time, turning halfway to look at him.

“Forgetting something?”

He shakes his head, bundled up under all warm clothing.

“Sure?”

He nods and she huffs, walking towards him. She kisses his cheeks and the tip of his nose, cupping his face. That reminds him, manifested in a sigh and a smile that he leans down to kiss his mother’s cheek.

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

His bid farewell always leaves him upset. He’s twenty-two, why does she still treat him like he was three? Just yesterday his brother couldn’t stop pinching his cheek after buying him a crepe. Continuing to compare him to a cute little hamster despite Jisung having surpassed him in height.

Three weeks ago when he met with Jaemin to talk about you, the words ‘cute’ and ‘adorable’ would not stop spewing from his lips the way bile does. With the exception that Jaemin welcomed these in comparison. Mark, similarly enough, always clutches his face with restraint from crushing his skull and then engulfs him with a bone crushing hug that leaves him aching for minutes to pass.

He thinks Jeno is the only one with sense that treats him his age, yet he’s caught him other times babying him at the arcade. Especially when a stranger playing against Jisung wants to get quippy and there he becomes that eleven year old that Jeno and Hyuck had to defend from some idiots that had just watched Star Wars and felt inclined to the dark side.

Jisung decided to take the car, it was getting colder and he felt the remnants of snowflakes begin to fall even if they could only be seen under a microscope but he was sure of it. He contemplated walking in hopes of ailing himself to disturb his mother’s sanity but proved futile knowing she’d hover over him 24/7 until betterment. Therefore, his sanity would be the one disturbed.

For such a busy season, the streets looked empty and the mall itself wasn’t entirely full besides the movie theatre parking lot. Their billboard lights blinding him the longer he stares to see which movie seemed fun. He should at least get some enjoyment out of this. He can decide later. RIght now he has to pick up something he thinks a geriatric angry woman would like.

Let’s see… She likes disgustingly small yappy dogs like chihuahuas— as angry as her. She likes cats as sick as her… some yarn and new patterns should be a good gift. She doesn’t like those.

Decidedly, Jisung will take a stroll towards the end of the mall. Taking his sweet time to enjoy the scenery of the water fountain. He truly does like the mosaic. The flamingo pink tiles crawl up into a gradient of green tiles that surround the mouth where water spurts out. In better times, it shines under the sun. Right now, not so much.

He doesn’t leave before throwing in five pennies. Five for his birthday and five for safe measure that his wishes are secured. He always wishes for the same two things. Three to hear from you and two to beat Jeno’s centipede high score.

Jisung smiles and nods to himself, walking past the fountain, some water spraying on him. He doesn’t mind, he’ll take it as a sign that one of the two is to be granted soon.

Halfway through a cinnamon sugar pretzel after nearly choking from its dryness, Jisung decides to touch his heart and not gift his grandmother something she doesn’t like despite her being such a vile woman. Instead he should give her something that she won’t ever be able to lift and only admire which leads him to Sur la Table on the east wing of the mall. He grumbles and huffs annoyedly at the walk but he knows it’ll be worth it. Hell, maybe he’ll steal it for himself when she goes senile.

The only thing that he appreciates about this wing is the warm yellow lights from French and Italian wannabe restaurants that aim to attract hungry consumers and cooks. He enjoys the set up at Sur la Table, mainly because he gets to play with their faux kitchen setups and the shock on people’s faces when they overpay for these cookware items. Fooled into consumption from their fabricated experience.

He plays with some of the display pots and pans, twisting knobs and reading tags to see how pretentious he’ll feel after learning about Swedish enamel. He doesn’t know how much that matters —if it's a cash grab— but it sounds fancy. Before him, he prepares some plates. A nice hearty bowl of Caldo de Gallego. Jisung doesn’t know nor understands what it is but he remembers hearing it while flipping through the channels when his father got cable. A monumental moment for him.

“No dessert?”

And just like when his mother scared him shitless back in the privacy of his own room. A familiar voice snapped him out of his public exposition daze.

He goes through the same motions he went through back home. Clutching his harshly palpitating heart, panting and huffing to regain his composure, and feeling embarrassment. If he went through this once more today, he’ll definitely faint for good.

It’s far more embarrassing this time around. He took advantage that the store was nearly empty and no one came to this side of the store but he was proven wrong. Worse yet, the person that scared him was waiting for an answer.

Jisung still feels and hears his heart blaring in his ears but he tries to act cool. Only to fail when his knees buck once he registers the face that’s been accompanying him for the past ten months in his wallet. Albeit something was different. The length and color of your hair that’s for sure.

“Don’t be a stranger, come on.” Your voice is as sweet as he recalls.

Fuck, how he missed it…

Your arms extend to him, pleading for his embrace. Jisung doesn’t hesitate to give you what you want— as always. Swaddling you with his long limbs and making sure you can’t let go until he is done savoring this moment. He’s truly craved this for as long as he can remember.

A soft giggle works to ease his grip, letting you go with a nervous chuckle of his own. “Sorry.” He speaks, shyly covering his mouth with a sleeve covered hand. The apology not only yours to receive but himself as well for reacting like the little boy he was when you met; for the miniscule regression. He takes in your light head shake but tender smile. It’s a different scene from when he last saw you. There’s an obvious distance that he does not like.

“How have you been? You’ve grown so much!” Instinctively, your hands reach for his face, cradling it while attempting to restrain yourself from pinching his cheeks. You’ve already overstepped by touching him. Instead you give him an awkward giggle and the following words. “What happened to my little Jisungie? You’re even taller than last time.” Jisung can sense your desire to grab him and handle him like you used to but for some reason you’re holding back.

‘Please, please don’t deny me this. Touch me, hug me, pinch me… Just please touch me…’ Jisung wants to blurt out. He’s been starving for years and he finally has you before him, so why won’t you feed him? Don’t be so gluttonous, please…

Jisung won’t voice any of it, he opts to nod with that same gummy smile that you love. “Growth spurt, stuff like that.” He attempts to sound nonchalant but he’s so giddy that he can’t contain himself. You read him like a book.

“So, uh… What are you doing here? I never thought I’d see you in my town.” He questions, scratching his head. You’ve always been a good eight hours away from him, meeting him halfway for camp. Six if you count Chenle’s birthday party in ‘81 in which his parents paid for everyone’s transportation.

Your hesitance doesn’t go unnoticed by him but he wont prod. He’s content with having you near, he thinks so. He’ll be sure to start throwing quarters into the fountain for granting him this wish at least.

“Work actually,” You hum, body swaying while you nod. “Oh, right! Jaemin mentioned you got a job, congrats!” He celebrated with genuine happiness but the inkling of curiosity never left him.

‘Please talk to me. Please say more, I crave your voice. Please, I’m too malnourished, can’t you see?

“Did he?”

“That was about it. You know how vague he can be.”

You hum and nod again. This awkward cycle frustrating and hurting him.

Jisung has not spent the past six years missing you for this encounter to be short lived. He’s aware six years was a long time ago and he’s definitely lost contact with other friends but they’ve never mattered the way you do and there’s no way he’s going to waste this opportunity.

“Hey, why don’t we catch up, yeah?” He clutches his arm, swinging a bit and lips puckering before pressing them tightly amongst each other. Your immediate reluctance is easily spotted and it only makes him ache more. He’s not sure what has elicited this behavior but whatever it is, he’ll kick himself over it when you’re not around.

“I don’t know, Ji… I have a report to work on.” You avoid his gaze, knowing that the second you see his pleading eyes you’ll cave in. He knows that too and he knows that if he makes his voice a tad bit squeaky, you’ll begin to crack. You always do.

“Y/n-ie, please…” He tilts his head, crouching to meet your gaze. His big round eyes glistening either from the lights, his own natural charm, or the tears that will spill if you pay him no mind. He doesn’t mean to pout but when his lower lip involuntarily juts out you let out a defeated noise through your teeth followed by grabbing his cheeks and stroking them softly, uttering a “Fine, fine!” to satiate his nerves and your own craving of touching his face like you once did.

His grandma can wait, it’s not like she’ll even use the cookware set any time soon.

“What were you even doing back there?” You break the silence, both walking towards the exit. Without you looking, he tosses a quarter out of gratitude into the fountain when passing by. He swears he can see the tiles gleam and let out satisfied clinks. They’re just as thankful.

With a hand to the back of his neck, he laughs softly. Head turning to you with excuses in mind yet he opts to tell the truth. “I like to pretend it’s my own kitchen whenever I go in there.” He laughs embarrassedly to which he is received with a silent ‘cute’ and observing look.

He’s glad he distracted you but it also feels like a backhanded compliment. Adorable. RIght, that’s what you still think of him.

“By the way. Do you mind grabbing a drink instead? Not a huge fan of coffee… Unless you want to of course.” Jisung suggests, putting his gloves on once both reach outside. He notices your lack of scarf and undoes his while you contemplate an answer. Halting your train of thought when he wraps it around you which ends up making you blurt out a “Sounds good!” in return.

It’s no surprise that the car ride was full of silence but at least the radio muffled your thoughts and hopefully his own if he had any regarding the atmosphere. There was a part of him that grew resentful and hurt with the lack of conversation but the greater part was ecstatic to have you so near. This is what he’s dreamt and wished for for years and he finally has it. He does not plan on wasting any millisecond of both your times.

Jisung wasn’t an avid drinker and did not know much about alcohol besides what his friends have shown him. His parents didn’t drink and his grandmother would shove a can of miller high life onto his hand if he ever spoke more than his usual five sentences. The way parents shove a bottle into a crying baby’s mouth to put it to rest. Why did he request a drink instead, though? Simply to gain some courage. Lord knows he’ll need it if things keep going the way they’ve been.

The place he took you to wasn’t that different from the ones you’ve been to during your college days. With ugly stained yellow walls, dart boards and old decorations hanging on them. Wooden columns covered in thick layers of resin as were the counters and tables. Grumpy beer-bellied bar tenders arguing over the football game playing on screen right now with already drunk customers. Yeah, not ideal for a first date but the only bar he knew. The only piece worth being valuable a signed poster of James Hunt.

What the hell was James Hunt doing in this fuck ass town?

He let you go in first upon finding a booth hidden in the back of the bar. Far more darker and cozier at this end. Perhaps due to the lack of distance he kept between you two when he himself slid in, his arm instinctively resting on the backrest of the booth around your head. The need to simply wrap it around your shoulders killing him.

“Pretty cold out there, right?” Jisung began, removing his gloves and jacket, shoving ghe former in the pockets. You didn’t turn to him, responding with a hum as you remove the scarf. He frowns at this, slumping against the backrest, watching you look through the standee with all drink names.

“What are you ordering, Jisung?” He hadn’t thought about it, more immersed in hearing your voice. Either Way he didn’t know a single brand of alcohol, ‘Lite’ the only word in relevance to alcohol that he knew. “You choose, I’m fine with whatever.” He diverts, leaning closer to you to read the alcohol options.

Though, as if you could read minds, you turn to look at him. A soft smile with narrowed eyes focusing on him. “Are you sure you want to drink? We can get something else, I don’t mind.” You suggest, expression relaxing now seeing how easily he reacted.

“Yes! I mean no! No, I would really like a drink, unless you want something else.” Jisung tumbled through his words. The bashful look on his face raises your lack of restraint in grabbing and handling him the way you’ve done so many years ago. Oh how truly adorable he remains. Although, he’s gotten quite handsome. Too handsome for his own good.

“Okay,” You nod, fingers ghosting over his cheek to reassure him– never touching, just yet.

Raising your hand to call a bartender over, one of the two begrudgingly stroll to your table. Tossing a worn out and smelly towel over his shoulder, he gives both of you a look as if to hurry up and order. With reluctance and indignance, you scoff. “Two blackberry smashes. Whiskey in both.”

“We ain’t got that stuff here.” His mannerisms were comical and absurd. As if he was angry that a request was made but also so nonchalant, so careless for your presence. More interested in going back to his game.

“Fine, two pints of your house beers, tap and two shots of your cheapest tequila. ” Jisung thinks your voice now matches the arrogance and annoyance of the bartender. He sort of likes it, it reminds him of the times you yourself had defended him against snobs at camp.

The balding bartender grunts as a response, sounding like an okay before leaving. “Swear, it’s like he's being held at gunpoint to work here, Jesus.” You shake your head, attitude dropping when you notice his reddened cheeks. Curse him and his presentable fondness. “Oh I’m sorry, Ji. Was I being mean?” Your body turns to him, hand clutching his out of habit. Jisung smiles at the contact, looking at it briefly before looking at you. “No, you were perfect.” He utters, reveling in your touch.

You smile at him, embarrassed. Something that he takes with pride. “You never told me what you were cooking up in that kitchen, you know.” You aim to divert the focus. He chuckles at it, “Caldo de Callo. I heard it on TV, I think the host said it was a Spanish dish. Never had Spanish food.” He sounded so proud yet clueless at the same time. Though, you tilt your head, lips parting and closing the further your eyebrows furrow. He hears you hum and finally ask, “Do you mean Caldo Gallego?”

Jisung can see you stifle a laugh when his face begins to feel insanely hot, scorching even. Embarrassment written all over his face that he has to bury them in his sleeve-covered hands, groaning into them about how stupid he sounded. If only he knew that what he originally said translated to ‘callous soup’.

Endearing is the word you’d call it though. Endearing he is with his crescent shaped eyes and shamed pout. Endearing are the whines and groans he lets out when you can’t seize your giggles. He thinks about telling you to stop but doesn’t, your noises far more prettier and enjoyable even if at the expense of his misery.

“It’s okay, Jisungie.” You elongate his name, “It sounds similar, don’t fret too much!” You giggle, petting his hair as one does a child trying to comfort them. He enjoys your touch but doesn’t enjoy the slight patronizing tone to your voice. He’s not sure if he can call it patronizing because he’s aware there’s no malice intent behind your words but it did sound condescending in the way those speak to their juniors and he was tired of you treating him like one the longer the night progressed.

Jisung huffs, sighing when his head touches the table. He turns to look at you momentarily, distracted when your drinks arrive. He hears a few forced thank you’s and sarcastic my pleasures. Your feud with the bartender is amusing but not for this time. Right now he wants to focus on this sentiment brewing in his chest.

He gives you one last glance before reaching for the shot glasses. “To seeing each other again?” Such a simple question that made you hum pensively. You don’t deny it, clinkling your glasses together before dowing the burning liquor. With the taste of battery acid buring your throat, Jisung on the other hand clutches his throat, spitting it out onto a bundle of napkins.

You find him so agonizingly cute that your hands begin to ache to touch him and squeeze the life out of him. How adorable can someone be?! “Oh Jisungie… Tequila isn’t for everyone.” You tut, shaking your head. “Perhaps I should order you some apple juice to soothe that, yeah?”

Your giggle makes his ears ring, that same gnawing feeling that you're mocking him consuming him. He knows you’re not doing it on purpose. That you truly care for his wellbeing but is he truly that easy to perceive as naive and childish that you won’t see him as more? Sure, he didn’t like the tequila but so what? It was their cheapest one. If it had been a bit more expensive, then he’s sure he would have drank it as easy as you. He’s not a kid, why won’t you see that?

Jisung doesn’t voice it though, sighing while redirecting the conversation. “Were you doing some last minute shopping back at the mall?” He questions, obvious discontent and melancholy in his voice. You let it be, nodding as a response before shaking your head when you register the question. Too enthralled with how pretty he looks like this. Face flushed from the alcohol and embarrassment. So cute, so adorable, so perfect. Your Jisungie.

“No, no, actually I went with intentions to watch a movie but the cinema won’t play the movie I wanted to watch so I was on my way out when I saw you through the window doing your little thing.” Your giggle sends him into orbit. He feels lightheaded. Your words weren’t laced with judgment but fondness, he’s thankful for it this time.

“What movie?” Jisung attempts to act as if you didn’t affect him.

“Uh…” Your hesitance piques his interest. “Sex, Lies, and Videotape.” Well it seems that it’s you who is embarrassed now. He takes it, smiling to himself. “Gee, I wonder why they wouldn’t screen this at a regular movie theater.” He giggles, wiping the corner of his mouth when he feels some leftover alcohol residing there.

“Okay now, I had just gotten out of a meeting. My brain was not fully cooperating.” He giggles some more, his teeth now clutching his sleeve. “Honestly, why would a movie like that interest you?” You smile at him, the rim of your beer glass pressing against your lips. “James Spader.”

Jisung rolls his eyes, a scoff leaving his lips while he himself takes a sip of his beer. It’s unrefined and messy. The way the lager alcohol slips down the corner of his mouth and slicks his lips when he places it down. You watch it all through the window of your own, taking slow sips to admire his silent tantrum. He’s never been fond of James Spader. Or any other man you’ve mentioned.

“He’s not all that, you know.” Jisung mutters with a pout, leaning against the backrest. You don’t laugh like you intended. You simply acknowledge him through the handkerchief you pull out of your pocket to softly wipe the residue of beer before it becomes sticky on his skin. He can taste the flavor of your black cherry lip gloss when you swipe it over his lips.

Such an intimate moment prompts him to take a grasp of your free hand, playing with your fingers like he’s done before. “Oh please. He’s the perfect blend of sensible and… manly.” Jisung can only guess you’re thinking of James Spader with the way you bite your lower lip and narrow your eyes. A lustful sigh escapes your nostrils which serves as confirmation to his inquiry.

Seemed like a bunch of bullshit, if you were to ask Jisung what he thought. If you wanted those qualities then why didn’t you realize how perfect Jisung was? Maybe he’s being a little self absorbed or malleable to your desires but so what? He’ll do anything to make you look at him.

Furrowing his eyebrows, dropping your hand and pointing at his chest, Jisung spoke. “I’m sensible and manly!” It sounded more whiny than he expected which would prove to throw off whatever result he wished for. Of course it would, your laugh seems to provide an answer to such.

“I don’t know about the latter…” Your hum upsets him more.

“I am!”

“I don’t know. Just look at how cute you look pouting like that…”

Jisung huffs, upset at your continuous dismissiveness. Must you always remind him of his inferiority? What must he do if you won’t see that he’s a grown man now?

“I am, I’ll prove it to you.” His tone must have sounded significantly bratty that you receive it with patronization. Sarcastically telling him to prove it then if he was so manly.

So he did. He did in the way his large hands cradled your face, warming up your cheeks although that might be from the immediate heat his actions spurred. He proves it through his stealthy moves, bringing his face closer to yours in which he allows his lips to ghost over yours for milliseconds before finally connecting them.

Shocked is what you would describe this feeling clinging onto your chest. Never in a million years would you have thought about kissing Jisung. Sure, you’ve kissed his cheeks and forehead in the past, but that’s what friends do with someone they find adorable and innately drawn to. Jisung has always been hard to avoid, even if you wanted to, one look in those glistening round eyes and you’d submit to his every wish. Everyone does.

His lips moved with inexperience, soft and slow but uncoordinated with no idea where to go from there. His internal debates made obvious when he would part his lips for a second before going back to what seemed like peppered pecks. The way dolphins kiss. You wonder if this is his first kiss or how he kisses overall. If so, you’re only sorry that it’s so miserable.

Jisung eventually determines that he should stop. Either from shame at how uneventful it was or, well, simply because it was uneventful. Rather you two stare at each other for what felt like ages. His confidence is dying down along with your shock. By now both reverting back to your usual personas which meant that he shyly tried to look around without breaking eye contact and you, sternly looking at him without blinking much in order to gain answers.

He sighs knowing this was a lost cause. Rubbing the back of his neck, his body shifts to face you more than before. “Why haven’t you sent me any letters? Why are you ignoring me, Y/n?...” Jisung hates how easy it is for him to transmit his emotions onto his voice. While he hates to sound whiny, he would prefer that over the hurt that enveloped every single syllable he’s spewed out. What he hates more is that he’s not able to shut his mouth. “You have my home number, you have my address. Why haven’t you replied to my letters?”

“Jisung…”

“No! Please tell me.” God, how he hates how dismissive you can be, “I’ve been waiting for you for years. Please give me something, anything.”

Jisung’s face contorts the longer he begs, his lips reddening and puffing more than normal. His cheeks are ravished by that harsh crimson that warms them, borderline scorching. His voice, now a mixture of hurt but whiney that makes you shift at how uncomfortable you are that it spurred something in your chest, now traveling down to your abdomen. You really want to slap yourself for this.

Your Jisungie. Your sweet Jisungie, you idiot!

“I’m sorry, Ji. I was busy with my discretion and didn’t have time for anything. Then I graduated and it was a bloodbath to even get a job right out of college. I mean, I almost threw myself to the sharks and contemplated going to a convent. Can you imagine? All my hard work wasted. Then this year…”

Almost like a child that should have not spoken, Jisung raises an eyebrow when you reach for your beer glass, using it as a shield to make you stop talking. He grew increasingly irritated by your silence. “This year what, Y/n?!”

He’s never spoken to you like this which raises concerns with how you don’t mind it. In fact, you surprisingly invite it, although in minimal quantities. Seeing as there was no way out of it, you sigh, shoulders slumping. “Then this year I saw your mom at the film store around Easter. We were both picking up pictures and we talked for a bit until I asked about you and she said that you had a girlfriend. That I should probably be conscious that not all girls are comfortable with their boyfriend being so close to other girls. That she wouldn’t take kindly to seeing me send you letters so often, let alone pictures…”

Jisung has never been angry at his mother. Sure, irritated and hurt. But never angry, which seems to be a feeling he never thought he’d harbor for the woman that has given him life and all the love a child deserves. He knew his mom wasn’t too keen on his infatuation on you, he’s not sure if it’s for the difference in age or weary of someone she hasn’t fully met besides a few encounters on drop-off and pick-up day at camp.

He always imagined that she would come around once she truly met you, so why was she trying to sabotage him on something he’s been begging every single deity for?!

“So, if you have a girlfriend, why the hell did you just do that, Jisung?” The disgust and confusion in your voice made him feel far more awful than he already was. Appalled would probably be a greater feeling, though. He’s made sure to let you know that with the harsh ‘what?!’ that spews out of his lips like a hymn.

“What the fuck? I’ve never had a girlfriend. Jesus fucking Christ, why would she say that?” He questions the latter to himself, unaware that he’s confessed his inexperience to you (as if it wasn’t noticeable); shifting his attention to you shortly after. “Why would you believe her in the first place? I’ve never looked at anyone but you! Why won’t you see that?”

It’s not his grasp on your shoulders that startles you but rather the sincerity in his confession. Never in a million years did you think you’d be hearing these words from Jisung. The fuzziness in your chest adds to that shock which confuses you and at the same time disgusts you.

Jisung is far more perceptive than you had thought, “Please… It’s been you since the summer we met…” He goes back to pleading, his grasp softening. Kneading your arms as to beg for contact on your end. You hate how much this is luring you into whatever he wants. You’ve never been able to say no to him, yet again these found feelings are clashing with those you’ve fostered since you met him.

It’s vile and conflicting to see him in such a sweet light. As your junior who’d you do anything for, to… this incessant needy and lovestruck man that keeps begging for an ounce of affection in any form possible. If it was for Jisung he’d be on his knees kissing the sole of your shoe as long as you get to tell him you love him the way he loves you.

You sigh, contemplating on what to do or what to feel. “I don’t know, Jisung.” You huff conflicted. You’ve always been like a little br–” His hand covers your mouth before you can even finish your sentence. His eyes tremble and you realize that he’s much closer than he had been. “Don’t finish that. Please don’t ever say that again…” He begs and begs. Either it be his words, the way his eyes look at you, or his body language.

“I’m twenty-two, I’m taller than my own older brother or any of the friends we made in camp. I can drink and smoke if I want. I’m a man now, Y/n. Not that scrawny squeaky voiced kid you met long ago. I don’t need you to see me like that. So please… erase that from your brain and see me as I am now.”

You don’t know if you hate him or yourself at the moment. You’ve never been one to reject change, in fact you welcome it but it’s different when it comes to the image of people you like. Fuck it, you’re even upset at how deep you’re thinking about this when within a few minutes you might think this is stupid and unserious.

“If age is the problem, don’t let it get to you. We don’t even have a disgusting gap. For goodness sake, we were in the same group classifications every year at camp and Mark had already hit the group limit. That should be enough to get you out of whatever hellhole you’re digging yourself into.”

See? Eventually things could turn so unserious and with the sound of his voice, rather bratty and accusatory. “Do you not like me, is that it? Do you not find me desirable?” He questions, head nodding to incentivize an answer from you. He almost makes it seem natural and you wonder how many times he’s done this before. Push people’s buttons until he gets an answer. You suppose he truly has grown.

The Jisung you last knew would never whine for something like this. All he had to do was say please with a pout and he’d get what he wanted. Far more innocent and civilized. This was crude, erotic, and mocking. You expect him to give you a cheshire smile when he gets what he wants in comparison to his gummy one full of appreciation.

Yes, he’s no longer a boy. He’s now a sweetly cunning man.

“It’s not that.” You blurt out, cursing yourself at the admittance that he has more of a chance than either of you could’ve thought. Expectedly, that cheshire smile presents itself slowly. Sultrily, he speaks. “Then what is it?” He whispers, lips to your ear as his hands create a path down your upper body.

The words hang heavy on your tongue, distracted by his touch. Finding his large hands more pleasurable than you could’ve thought. “I actually don’t know…” You confess sincerely, eyelids fluttering when they land on your knee, fingers padding over the clothed flesh. Contemplating on whether to stay where they are at or slide up.

Ecstatic by your bodily response, he smiles sweetly. Whispering in your ear, “Let me prove it to you… Let me erase that image of me you have, please…” He begs, lips trailing to your cheek, a blazing trail branding your skin. When they reached your lips, you couldn’t deny him the wonders of being kissed in return.

You both sigh into the kiss the second they perfectly slot into each other. It’s slick and wet, albeit, much more pleasurable than his first one. This one you’re able to enjoy the delicacy of those plump red lips that envelope yours and leave a delicious sting that makes you crave for more.

Your hands paw at his sweater, drawing him closer to feel his warmth. He takes this opportunity to let his hands roam up your thighs, massaging the insides until he decides that he won’t wait and lets his hand crawl to the hem of your skirt. His hands –scorching– against your skin when he manages to pull down your tights. Bunching them around your knees and covering your legs with his jacket.

He smiles into the kiss when he feels you react to his feather touches. Taunting the idea of touching you further. He’s not too cruel though, not when this is what he’s wanted for so long. Therefore, he decides to reward both of you by letting his fingers go under your panties, the cotton feeling like heaven against his knuckles. He revels in the feeling of your wetness clinging to the fabric. Cooling against his skin while he lets his fingers waltz up and down your folds. Contemplating what their next move will be, unpreoccupied since you seem to enjoy whatever he is currently giving you. He can see it with the way your eyelids flutter and the kiss grows hungrier, needier. This is all he truly wanted.

Jisung decides to not taunt you any longer. He’s never wanted to upset you. Allowing his fingers to softly part your lips, twisting his ring clad middle finger and inserting the long digit into you. They felt so cold within your walls, forcing a gasp to leave your lips. He took that opportunity to muffle it with his tongue the second it intruded the cavity of your mouth.

The muscle, surprisingly strong as it dances along with yours, savoring the delicacy of your taste. This is overshadowed by the spasm of your legs the slower he pumped his finger into you. Molding your walls to the ribs of his nimble and spindly digits. Your pleasure is exerted through sighs and hungry kisses which he consumes all you give him. He thinks this is enough incentive to insert a second finger. This time his ring finger, quickly adapting it to the movement of the other one. It’s nice to feel the contrast between his warm acclimated finger to the cold shorter one.

His fingers move slowly, picking up the pace when he decrees that you deserve more pleasure than he currently grants you. He’s driven by the way you cling to him, hands going under his sweater and clutch his sides, fingernails softly taking the warm flesh. Jisung finds it delicious how you cling to him the way your walls grip to his fingers. Sucking him in and keeping them in place whenever he thinks of even taking them out without making you come first.

Neither speak but the silent mewls that leave your lips is enough to let him know he’s doing something good. He’s proven right when you softly nip at his swollen lips, sucking on the lower one, resulting in him releasing a shaking breath.

You will be the death of him.

Jisung found that he loved how you look when you writhe in pleasure in his arms. He thinks you look otherworldly with the way your lips part to release those sweet chants he has recorded in his brain. Enticing when your tongue sticks out to cling to his and his lips just to know he’s still there making you feel better than you’ve felt in a while. He knows you're ready when you gnaw at his lips and jaw, holding to the back of his neck as your lips trail as hungrily as his, prior. Leaving a trail of rouge that he wishes to seep into his skin like a tattoo.

When he feels your teeth cling to his jugular, he can’t help but let out a guttural moan, thankful at how secluded this booth was. His fingers reward that feeling by moving faster, his thumb rubbing delicate yet quick circles on your clit. At some point he felt scared that your cunt would swallow his rings with every clench around his fingers. You were so close and all he felt was pride and gratification that it was him that was making you feel this way.

Fuck, he could explode in his pants right now.

“Jisungie…I can’t hold back anymore.” You pant, leaving open mouthed kisses along his Adam's apple. Tongue roaming and savoring the saltiness of his skin taut on his clavicles.

He’s no one to make you suffer and not get what you want. Instinctively, his fingers pick up the pace, pushing them as far as he can. Curling them and covering your mouth when the volume of your prayers increase. Swallowing them whole when he connects his mouth with yours, luxuriating in the sybaritism of your orgasm through your kiss and spasming legs.

It takes you a minute to calm down, panting softly. Jisung looks down at you with a pleased smile, his fingers still in you, pruning by the second but he doesn’t mind. He sighs constantly, kissing you softly this time. It’s sweet and tender, similar to the first one he gave you with the difference that your cooperation makes it run smoothly.

When he parts, his fingers slowly ease out, causing you to shudder. You feel so empty and cold at the lack of his touch. Rewared only by the mere fact that he prods your lips with his ring finger, slowly entering your mouth. You savor yourself on him, tongue running along the underside, lingering on his finger pad.

No one has ever done this for you. Look at and treat you like you’re their whole world despite the lewd scenery.

His finger slips far more slick from your lips than it had entered your mouth. He takes them up to his own, running them along like a brush on the most pristine parchment. Letting its ink sink into the grooves and cement itself for eternity.

Biting your lower lip, you examine the way he takes both fingers into his mouth. Pupils blown out once he’s fully swallowing the taste of you in all forms. He knew you were perfect but this is beyond that. This is an exquisiteness he’s never savored before. He will never be satisfied again.

Jisung leans down making you think he was to kiss you again. The reality was that your essence was more inebriating than the shot of tequila and the pint of beer sitting on the table before him that he had to have a taste of the fruit directly.

In swift motions, he moves his jacket from your legs, shoving your skirt up and letting it fall over his head. Despite the awkward angle, Jisung managed to swipe the tip of his tongue against your slick cunt. The muscle parting your lips and forcing a gasp out of you.

It’s a mixture of shock and pleasure. He was shameless and that made it so hot and intoxicating, yet fear was consuming you. Forcing you to take a grasp at the back of his neck and pull him up with as much delicate force as you could muster. Like a starving kitten, parted from its mother’s tit, Jisung fetches your lips.

He looks so pretty and so stupid. So drunk and starved for you. The feeling so obvious in his hazy eyes and wet lips from your come that he has yet to lick or press against your own. You give him the latter, kissing him to satiate his need for just a bit. Biting his lower lip to calm him down.

“Don’t be so greedy, Jisung.” You scold against his lips, removing your mangled and wet tights and shoving them into your pocket. He cries like a kicked puppy but nods, getting out of the booth and helping you out knowing you’ll look like a newborn deer after his filthy handling.

Neither of you pay any mind to the cashier that takes in the payment. Weary eyes scanning you both and scoffing without questions. It’s not his first rodeo.

Drunk in a daze, Jisung doesn’t question when you give him directions. He expected it to be a hotel, one you should be staying at for work. It dawns upon him that it’s your apartment when he sees you punch in the entry code.

You’ve been so close all this time and he doesn’t knows how to take it. It’s evident in the look he gives you when you both enter the apartment and he looks around. His lips parting to question it but being shushed by your lips and hands tugging at the hem of his sweater to pull it off his body. Leaving him bare and goosebump filled before you.

“Not now…” you whisper against his chest, kissing his torso and pecks, nipping his nipple. You can talk about reality once you’re finished.

Jisung sighs but welcomes the feel of your lips and touch all over him. His own fingers unbutton your coat and cardigan, pushing them off simultaneously to make his fingers crawl to your back and unclasping your bra.

He withers and hunches over when your hands push down his pants, grasping his hard and leaking cock through his briefs. The wet spot ironically forming a heart. His Lip part, erotically to let out breathy gasps and pants. For this, you kiss him like he once did. Invading his mouth with your own tongue, holding his face in your hands, making sure he makes no effort in separating until both you feel the air escaping your bodies.

In the process, both of you manage a waltz in ridding of the remaining clothes. Kicking off any shoes and underwear, leaving each other bare in the middle of your living room. If he was given the time to admire it more, he’d tell you that it was truly what he expected of you— positively.

Instead he’s eating you alive, carnivorously gnawing at your lips in hopes to draw blood. An act that you embrace and let him do as he pleases. Simply because you’ll return the favor with as much fervor that you both will let the crimson paint itself on your lips the way your rogue has marked his skin.

When air finally did what you expected it to do, Jisung connects his forehead against yours. Both panting and drawing your bodies flush against each others. He grins seeing the little number he did against your lips, the cracks of them full like a dried up river during dry seasons. If only he knew he looked the same.

“Eat me… take your time in consuming me…” you implore, the words playing over and over in his brain as he pushes you down on the couch. Dropping to his knees without a care of what your neighbor on the bottom floor will say or if his palid knees will bruise instantly. For you, he’ll writhe in pain.

Jisung wastes no time, he separates your legs and throws them over his shoulders. His head delves in between the pretty image of your cunt and clings his lips around it fully. His lips suctioning while his tongue teases your entrance. His grasp on your inner thighs is a bit harsh but pleasurable enough that you’ll enjoy seeing the marks he’ll leave on them tomorrow.

He’s fueled more by your sweet words and the tugs at his raven hair by your fingers that curl on the locks. It feels much better when your nails scratch his scalp and for that he sucks on your clit. Incentive or reward, they’re interchangeable.

“Ah!… take your time…” you moan, head thrown back and giving him a pretty image of the expanse of your neck and the way your nipples perk. You look so heavenly that he knows it’s blasphemous. The way the overhead light shines behind your head, creating a glowing halo and he’s glad that it’s Sunday for this is his mass and holy communion. His mother should not dislike you after this.

Jisung lets his tongue roam around your cunt, savoring every crevice, picking up every single drop that spills from you. Be it that no one has ever paid such devotion to your mound, your legs begin to shake around his head. Your hands cling to his hair and pull him closer and closer to the point his nose manages to create a pleasurable pressure against your clit.

This is no problem for him. He lavishes himself in your taste and smell, moaning against you to create further sensitivity which is appreciated and you reward him by coming almost immediately when he lays his tongue flat on you to lick down and enter deep into you.

A slew of moans leave your lips but his name is the one you scream out. “Jisung, Jisung, Jisung.” Oh how well has conforming paid him off. For this he leans back on his feet, hands rubbing his thighs and teasing his own sensitive cock as he watches you writhe on the soiled couch. A lake of your come seeping into the faux leather, shimmering as its reflection on his lips, nose, and chin. How beautiful you both look.

Animalistically and greedily so, Jisung dives back in. This time pulling your body further down the couch. Leaving you limp and folded while he raises your hips and clings to them. He’s more messy and filthy about it this time around. He allows his lips to suck harshly and lick as consolation just to softly bite your clit and make you cry out masochistically.

Hypersensitivity, a force that travels in the form of your loud moans and cries. That’s what fuels him and it feels so sadistic but he indulges himself at least this once. He’s hopeful it won’t be the only time but for now he will enjoy it as it is.

He can hear you begging to please let you finish. That you don’t have it in you to last long anymore but he doesn’t relent just yet. Not when his hips buck forward and shudder with every grace of his cock against the leather of your couch. It’s so cold and harsh that it hurts but it also feels so good that he can’t help but be excited at how your soft and warm walls will soothe his dick like ointment to a wound.

That seems more exciting, yes.

All right, Jisung will please you once more. He kisses your cunt softly, long and languid velvet like kitten licks to push you further. His own rutting is much slower which proves to be a painful decision for he can’t control himself when his abdomen cramps up and painfully moans against your chest as he stands up to release all over your swollen and irritated cunt.

The feeling of his come feels like boiling water spilt on an open wound. It makes you come for the third time this night, the feeling increasing when he hums hungrily as he rubs his come in a sheer layer, ointment to your ache. The remaining that stuck to his hand, on his cock, rubbing up and down to suffer that same overstimulation at his own hands. This is his solidarity for what he’s caused you.

Tired and panting, Jisung takes a seat beside you. Caressing your face while trying to regain some stamina. You’re so spent that you lean into his touch, kissing his soiled hand and licking the saltiness off of it to savor him the way he has you.

Fuck… that’s making his dick twitch.

“Pure nectar from the forbidden fruit.” Jisung leans into your ear, kissing your cheek softly as he helps you onto his lap. You whine but ultimately allow him for there’s one more thing he can offer you and you need it.

His fingers are soft when they touch your entrance. It’s so soft and so warm, he can only imagine how sensitive you are. The image makes him moan softly against your ear. Your head resting on his shoulder and your arms wrapped around his torso. Limp yet so needy against his body. The body heat between both creates a layer of perspiration that travels from that connection onto your entire body.

Jisung rubs your back in soothing circles, leaving peppered kisses onto your hair and inhaling the scent of your shampoo. He inhales and exhales like his life depended on it, kiss after kiss after kiss.

“You’ve always been so good to me, Y/n. Do you like how I’m thanking you?” He hums, lifting your face with a finger on your chin. “Yes…” you sincerely confess in a breath, returning the favor with a slow kiss that allows your tongues to finally explore and examine each other the way you both are doing. By any form, you two will always find a way to please each other.

“And, I think I should keep going so you can fully understand how much I like you and have liked you…” he mutters in between kisses, his tongue shoving the words down your throat so you’ll digest them immediately.

You can only nod, feverishly and with a shiver down your spine when he holds your lower back, helping you up while the tip of his cock rubs slowly against your folds. You can tell it’s helping him get hard. His flaccid cock rapidly hardens with every stroke, his breathing increases and comes out shaky against your ear. It doesn’t help that you’re kissing his throat like you were back at the bar with the exception that they’re less hungry and far more passionate.

“Can I fuck you, Y/n?” He begs, eyes droopy in a plea. If it wasn’t because of how he’s holding you, you’d be sure his hands would be together in a prayer. You hum, pretending to contemplate when your answer had been decided long ago.

“I don’t know…” you tease. God only knew his abhorrence of those stupid three words. He’ll make sure to knock them out of your vocabulary if you say yes. For now, like the brat he is, he shakes and writhes, tantrum-like while his words come out in elongated whines.

“Please, Y/n…” he cries out, his grasp on you tightening slightly. You hum again but you don’t speak, basking in the pretty sounds he makes when he doesn’t get what he wants.

“You can’t feed me and then starve me… I’ll go crazy if I don’t taste you again.” He pleads, lower lip jutting out and letting his face get closer to yours. He’s so pretty like this that you can’t help but concede.

With a giggle you nod, “Very well then.” You tell him, kissing his cheek. The sweet act is gone when he lowers you down on his hard cock. You had seen it moments prior but hadn’t registered that the stretch would sting like this. It’s not bad, matter of fact it feels so fucking good… and it doesn’t help that he’s long enough that you feel him in your stomach.

“Ji…” You moan out in parts, eyelids fluttering as he bottoms out. Jisung sucks in air through his teeth when he feels your ass on his balls, squishing them and begging them to please you. That is something that he will hear out anytime.

Your voice sends him a whirlwind, “Give me your hand.” You request from him. If it wasn’t for the sheer fact that you wanted him to see and feel what he was doing to you, you’d spend more time admiring his large hands. Seeing them this way, you can understand how he made you come perfectly.

Leaning back causes you to squish his testicles further. A moan leaves his lips hungrily as he admires you through hooded lids, his head thrown over the backrest. When he feels where you placed his hand, he snaps it up, admiring the prominent budge on your stomach and how warm it felt to be in you.

“See?” You ask in the sweetest tone, smiling at him. He returns it with a nod, caressing what he’s caused. Instinctively, he bucks his hips upward, a moan erupting from both your lips due to the friction and the image. It’s like a live painting being made before him.

“So pretty…” he coos, his fingers dancing around the imprint. His thrusts increase in pace, your head rolling back in pleasure. It’s not fair that he has to do all the work; holding onto your thighs, you begin moving up and down on his shaft.

His moans get louder and his hands roam your body like undiscovered land. Landing on your breast and squeezing them. Your own hands leave your thighs to help him in kneading, yelping when his fingers take a hold of your nipples to squeeze them. “You’re doing so good, Jisungie.” You praise, each word received with a hard thrust from him and a whine, thanking you.

“My Jisungie is so big now…” you moan, leaning down to capture his lips in a kiss, he holds your hips while increasing his pace. “Such big hands,” reaching for one, you kiss his palm before letting it fall to its initial spot.

“Such big pretty lips…” Your teeth nip his lower lip, reopening the cut from your earlier‘s cannibalistic game. “The most beautiful big eyes.” And with a drop of his blood on your lip, you kiss his eyelid. Eyelashes flutter upon feeling your warm moist flesh.

You attempt to sound just as tempting and sultry, but his thrusts along your hips hopping on his dick— your words leave out in broken moans and cries.

“And such a fucking big dick that will make my guts yearn for it again.”

Jisung’s eyes blow out, lips parting and licking off the blood from them. He allows himself to be vocal now. There’s no holding back when his hands grasp your ass and hold you in place. His hips move up rapidly, reaching deeper than he had previously. Your lower body stings from his handling, it doesn’t help that his testicles are slapping against you that creates an echo to play all over your living room.

You’re being fucked stupid that no coherent words attempt to leave you anymore. Anything that does are moans and cries which he swallows entirely when he grasps your jaw harshly to kiss you as messy and wettly as he did at the bar. There’s some teeth and so much tongue but neither care when the feeling of your walls molding around his cock, that they’ll forget how good his fingers initially made you feel.

He’s so swollen, you feel it with every thrust the same way he feels you grip him with no intention of letting go until you both get what you want. It’s such a perfect fit that makes his abdomen ache. He’s so ready and so are you.

“Finish… please, finish.” He begs, hips move messily and mindlessly. He’s so ready to be done but he needs you to come first. It’s not until he shifts and brings you closer that his mouth wraps around your tit. Hungrily kissing it like a starved animal. His teeth take no mercy in biting the skin around and your nipple, leaving indentations of his pretty teeth. At least you’ll have his smile engraved on you.

He continues on the second one, your nipples so hard that they ache from his sucking and biting. And when he feels the needs to insert two fingers in you while he fucks desperately with squelches imploring you both to finish, you can’t help but clamp around him with a loud moan erupting from your lips and coming around him. Fingers and cock.

Your cries don’t seize, they only increase when he himself spills within you. It’s so warm, almost hot and there’s so much that you can feel it run down the sides as he remains in you. Poor Jisung, he had been holding it for so long. Your poor little, Jisungie.

You squirm on top of him, shaking from the great orgasm. Something you hadn’t had since that one time you masturbated at nineteen. Thank you Jisung for being such a great sport.

“You know,” Jisung is the first to talk, swallowing. He was parched. “I’m so glad I waited for this.” He smiles tiredly, you giggle with a sigh but ultimately nod. “I’m sure other girls were satisfying enough.” You say, to which he shakes his head.

“No, I meant sex.” He confesses confidently until he coils in when he realizes what he’s said. Your surprised look only makes the feeling grow. “No way.”

He nods

“No way! There’s no way you fucked me this good with it being your first time!” You attempt to lean back to look at him but your body aches and it also decrees that it wants to cling to Jisung’s as much as it can so the most you muster is looking up at him.

It’s such a pretty image when you notice the bashful look on his face, crimson blush consuming his entire body. How he, out of custom, smiles and throws his head back with his index finger extended under his nose to cover his mouth. There’s your sweet Jisung.

You laugh quietly, hand going up to caress his hair. “So cute… you’ll always be my cute Jisungie.” The statement is received with a groan but ultimately, Jisung relents. Kissing you once more, refined and sweetly. He understand what you mean and he also understands that you mean it differently now. Therefore, he won’t dwell on it. Sure, you’ll always look at him in such a sweet image but now with the addition that he has proven to you how much he’s grown… as a man.

[redvexillum]

PSA: RACISM, BIGOTRY, ENTITLEMENT IN HAZBIN HOTEL FANDOM

CONTENT WARNING: Inflammatory hate speech, White hate, political baiting, gaslighting, racism, death threats

The messages I’ve received and am addressing below contain upsetting and harmful language that has no place in any community. If these topics are distressing to you, please prioritize your well-being and feel free to stop reading here. Thank you for taking care of yourself.

I never imagined I would find myself addressing this, but here we are. This post is regarding my recent story, Stay With Me, which has stirred up unexpected controversy due to my decision to imply the reader’s race as white. I want to clarify that this choice was made purely for plot purposes.

The story is set in 1920s Louisiana, a time and place where racial and class dynamics were deeply significant. This backdrop was essential to the narrative’s themes of tension and forbidden love, as it explores the societal barriers that would have made a relationship between Alastor and the reader virtually impossible. The decision to depict the reader as an upper-class white individual was not arbitrary—it was intentional, aimed at heightening the drama and emotional weight of their story.

I deeply value the Hazbin Hotel fandom and the x-reader community. Writing for this space has brought me immense joy, and I’ve formed wonderful connections with both readers and fellow writers. That’s why receiving such hateful and inflammatory messages has been incredibly disheartening. The accusations of racism, the vitriol, and the twisting of my creative choices into something they were never meant to be—this has shaken me more than I can express.

To the anonymous senders of these messages: I want to make it clear that my work comes from a place of love and passion. My intention has always been to tell compelling stories that explore complex emotions, societal norms, and the human condition—stories that resonate with readers on a deeper level. To reduce my work to a political agenda or an act of prejudice is deeply hurtful and entirely unfounded.

I want to echo sentiments shared by Kit (please check out her explanation here), another writer in the fandom, who also explored the racial and class dynamics between characters. Like them, I am fascinated by the tension and drama that arise from star-crossed love stories, particularly when societal laws and prejudices forbid such relationships. Writing the reader as white in this context wasn’t about excluding or favoring anyone—it was about creating an authentic narrative rooted in the realities of the era.

For those questioning why I made this choice, I ask: if you can suspend disbelief to fall in love with a cannibalistic, asexual deer demon, why is the reader’s race—chosen for specific plot reasons—the line you cannot cross? My goal as a writer is to craft stories that make sense within their own context. The entitlement to demand otherwise, or to impose personal prejudices onto my work, is unfair and unwarranted.

I hate that I’ve had to turn off anonymous asks. Some of the most heartfelt and hilarious messages I’ve received have come from anonymous users, and losing that connection with my readers pains me. But unfortunately, the actions of a loud, hateful minority have left me with no choice. I will not entertain further discourse on this matter after this post.

To those who have supported me, who have read my stories and shared kind words: thank you. Your encouragement is what keeps me going. Writing for this fandom has been a labor of love, and I pour my heart and soul into every piece I create—for free, might I add. It’s devastating to feel that love overshadowed by hostility.

I won’t let this stop me from creating, but I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t made me question my place here. To anyone who feels entitled to tear down what others create out of hatred or spite: I hope you take a moment to reflect on the harm your words can cause.

To my true supporters: I appreciate you more than words can express. Your kindness reminds me why I love writing in the first place. Thank you for standing by me.

[ilsolefiesta]

my Groom Persona Chart observation

spoiler alert: I try my best to remain as critical as possible and avoid falling into the delusional sea, because below you can find a description of my ideal type (obviously, this is not fully true, as there are some significant flaws). *here I'm using Tumblr's astrological justifications and rules for calculating degrees. for entertainment purposes only.

ASC: 18° (Virgo) of Aquarius. ☌ with Uranus (17°) and Juno (18°) in the 12th house. I don't know if there is any chance that I won't be scared during our first meeting. such an amazing, rebellious energy. probably, a thin constitution with a noticeable bone structure (Aquarius has Saturn as its initial ruler). a strange person, with some features that make him stand out among others. maybe changing hair styles too often or having tattoos/piercings. may like to draw attention to himself through his appearance. I'd also add an outstanding, exaggerated style, but 18° is Virgo's one. so, I assume he would wear something casual and plain. glasses (I'm willing to die) are also possible. overall, despite seeming a bit provocative, he may look smart and nerdy (Aquarius and Virgo, along with Gemini, give off these vibes, in my opinion). damn frightening aura for an introvert like me - chaotic, vocal, extroverted, unpredictable. but there is a nuance here...

Sun: 20° (Scorpio) of Scorpio, the 8th house. mercy... pure Scorpio. well, it's in exact ☌ with the cusp of the 9th house. I'm a big fan of Scorpio men, as they are deep thinkers, and it's always interesting to engage in mind games with them. at least I won't be bored in this relationship. here we come to this very nuance. Scorpios are really hard to reach and understand, as they tend to keep everything hidden. having the Sun influencing 9th house, I suppose here we have a person who delves deep into education and the spheres of their interests. probably can be interested in metaphysical or religious topics. here, I come to the assumption that, despite being outwardly, Aquariously prominent and active, this person's emotions, thoughts, and true self are far more hidden than they seem.

Moon: 27° (Gemini) of Taurus, the 3rd house. ☌ with Saturn (28°). my Taurus Moon is in the 9th house. this seems like a gift from heaven - I suppose that, since the way of "feeling" is very similar, communication should be really comfortable. It may be easy to understand each other's emotions. 27°, the 3rd house - double Gemini influence. with my 9th house, we both may feel comfortable learning new things together. very talkative and broadening each other's horizons relationships. Taurus is one of the most stable and calm signs when it comes to emotions. Saturn also adds here to make this Scorpio-Aquarius madness more stabilized. but it also means stubbornness, emotional detachment and lack of attention to other's emotions to some extent (again, hello, Saturn). so this similarity may lead to frequent quarrels due to each other's unwillingness to compromise.

Mercury: 1° (Aries) of Scorpio, the 8th house. mercy x2... let's continue with our mind games. very strategic and analytical, with good intuition, similar to X-ray vision. a hypnotic way of communicating, very persuasive. probably may like to curse, haha. very sarcastic and sharp-witted. however, for my Libra Venus, this suppressive and even manipulative way of thinking may be way too harsh... for now, I consider it an interesting experience, but I'm not sure how I'll feel about it when I have to deal with it directly.

Venus: 29° (Leo) of Sagittarius, the 10th house. exact ☌ with Industria. wow. "different" is the first word that comes to mind. we'll probably differ greatly from each other, as Sagittarius Venus might mean that his appearance isn't conventional in my socio-cultural context (or mine for his). foreigner? Leo degree, 10th house. old, but gold? may have an age gap with me and a profession that's greatly connected to his appearance or beauty in general, and something foreign. also may work among women. unfortunately, ironically, this is also a trait of a possible starboy hiding behind a philosophical idea of finding "the one and only". red flag, red flag... my Libra Venus can deal with that, but my Virgo Mars is like "wtf?". with such a person, you always need to stay interesting, new, and joyful to keep them interested. it's hard.

Mars: 5° (Leo) of Libra, the 7th house. once again, the idea of love at the first sight is somewhat questionable for me. romantic men who are capable of making beautiful gestures are, of course, cool. however, at this point, I can only say that all of these romantic gestures are cool within the framework of considering them as strongly positive. obviously, this is too simple and plain. and considering the possibility that placements may signify not only good personal qualities, I can say that my mr. Groom is a little bit more about feelings than rationality. for me, with Air and Earth dominating my chart, this could lead to a situation where I would want to scold and "teach" him how to live, and he would get sick of it quickly. however, if we are both able to accept these features, I believe it could be a great personal growth opportunity for both of us. in addition, Libra Mars in Libra's house, taking into account the previous placements, matches the description of my ideal partner - "my guy pretty like a girl and he got fight stories to tell" (thx, Frank Ocean). very flirty and sensitive, acting in a way that is typical of most "conventional" women. a rather interesting facade of kinda baby-girl. even if it's not my FS, I still want to at least take a look at this person.

Saturn: 28° (Cancer) of Taurus, the 3rd house. very patient in terms of achieving their goals, but with a little lack of flexibility. these people usually learn one way of doing things and then stick to it throughout their lives. however, they are extremely hardworking, especially when it comes to earning money. they may have had some childhood issues related to responsibility and discipline. in terms of ☌ with the Moon, btw, may have had a strict or emotionally distant mother.

Jupiter: 8° (Scorpio) of Gemini, the 3rd house. bingo! there is a stellium in the 3rd house. I may assume that this person has more than one sibling. two "yin" planets, versus one "yang" - probably sisters. despite the fact that school life was challenging due to discipline and hierarchical issues, they may study well and have a natural talent for foreign languages. also, may be popular at school, being a "voice" for the whole class, etc. probably has a wide range of interests as he's tend to loose interest quickly.

Uranus, Neptune: 17° and 4° of Aquarius (like mine in Natal Chart), the 12th house. I don't pay much attention to these planets in the GPC context, as they tend to stay in the same position for a long time. Uranus in ☌ with Juno. another possible sign of a cheater... active 12th house may, of course, indicate a good imagination and creative potential, but it can also be a sign of addictions and secrecy. if we consider it from the perspective of synastry, these placements relate to my 5th house, so he may activate my creativity. however, my DSC is in Pisces, and I hope that this doesn't mean that at some point I'll start to write songs like Halsey's "Without Me" about being in love with someone with addictions.

Pluto: 11° (like mine, Aquarius) of Sagittarius, the 10th house. exact ☌ with MC. well, the same goes for Uranus and Neptune. they barely change their signs and degrees. I can assume that career is a very challenging area for him - the place where he always goes through transformation. Sagittarius? perhaps career necessity forced him to change his place of residence, learn a new language, or adapt to a new culture.

another "I don't pay much attention" moment - Groom ☌ Fama in the 10th house in Sagittarius. interprete it as you wish. I'll just joke that he'll be famous af.

fun fact: in GPC Briede is in the 2nd house, in 18° (Virgo) of Aries. my Sun is in the 1st house in 25° (Aries) of Virgo. and my 2nd house is active. so, based of my Natal Groom's placement, I guess my FS should be Scorpio with Gemini traits/active 3rd house.

well, I don't know where to find him, but I hope to succeed.

thanks for reading!

Picture credits: Pinterest

[cyanide-latte]

Hihi!!! Tis the season to ask holiday themed asks!! Assuming the world of TWST celebrates winter holidays, do your OCs celebrate any holidays? If so, what are some things they like to do?

Thank you for including me in this idea, fam!

Admittedly this took a bit of consideration and it's still somewhat haphazard, so I apologize for that, please bear with!

Copper Benoit- While we touched on this very briefly in DMs, I don't mind expanding on it here! Copper doesn't recall celebrating winter holidays in the orphanage prior to Mr. Stone kidnapping him at age 6 or 7; he's sure the caretakers at the orphanage probably did do something for the kids, but it's been so long ago and his trauma so severe he doesn't really remember much about his time at the orphanage, let alone if they celebrated much of anything. And during the slightly-over-a-decade he's kept by Mr. Stone, nothing was celebrated, not really. So Copper's first exposure to winter holiday celebrations really begins when he starts his student career at Night Raven College! He wants to learn and respect as many celebrations of all sorts that he can (and as appropriately as possible,) so he's just happy to be a part of things and learn what these celebrations are and the significance they hold! Difficult to say what exactly that will lead to as he grows older, but he's got time to figure that out!

Wei Renqiao- Ren's family celebrates the Lunar New Year very faithfully, and when he comes to NRC, he makes certain to continue observing those traditions and celebrates in small ways before going back home to Bàoyìng for winter break. He especially loves when Ortho takes a more vested, hands-on interest in learning more about their celebrations, and goes out of his way to include him and anyone else who's curious in his festivities, even if they're much quieter in Ignihyde Dorm than they are back home!

Chrysanthos Shroud- Ahhh, here's where we get to my headcanon that the Shrouds observe a TWST version of Saturnalia; you'll have to forgive me, it's been years since I practiced observing it in high school and I'm still re-learning a lot of what I forgot, but that celebration and feast holds a special place in my heart. Even with working on re-educating myself, I do headcanon the Shrouds observe it, and it wasn't much more than a passing acknowledgement of notations on a calendar until Ilias married Kallisto. Kallisto insists on the Saturnalia season being warm and good-spirited and makes it a point to bring that together for her husband and her in-laws, so of course Chrys grew up with a very positive winter holiday celebration. His aunt and uncle and of course Ortho will also happily observe with him, though Idia has to be coaxed. Chrys loves the energy of Saturnalia and the vibes, and he brings it with him; eventually when he and Wei Xinyi start dating, the two decide to learn each other's celebrations and holiday observations, and eventually celebrate both when they get married!

The Anatoles- I do think they celebrate some sort of Yuletide holiday. The siblings are brought home during the holiday break and spend some time doing a lot of winter activities and holiday shopping and dining out, both with their great-grandmother, and with their stepfather's old jazz buddies. Their staff is offered the holiday off with double pay, but are also invited to meals at the home with them. Marianne especially wants people to eat the desserts she works hard to make, Bertrand will happily play holiday music on the piano, and Toussaint is generally pretty sleepy and calm compared to his usual energy (though still jovial as ever.) The siblings will often do their best to drag Rollo into their celebrations, despite his protests.

And last but most certainly not least, bonus surprise

The Pondicliffs- Felix and Aurelian always come home from Royal Sword Academy for Yuletide during the winter break. It's a little crowded with their sizeable family with so many dalmatian beastfolk kids, but they're pretty happy. The family tends to stay indoors most days for the break, with Felix and Aurelian often building snowmen, making snow forts and having snowball fights, or sledding downhill with their siblings, while the parents do a lot of cooking for several days. They all help with decorating their house, and spend a lot of time playing board games in the evening, having festive treats, watching holiday films, and then over the course of three days, they exchange gifts with one another! Felix loves the holidays, Aurelian's at that grumpy teen stage of hating the holidays just 'cause.

Thanks again for sending this ask! Also, would love to see more peeps and mutuals share their thoughts for their OCs and winter holidays too!

Taglist: @elenauaurs @inmateofthemind @ramshacklerumble @tixdixl @winterweary

@distant-velleity @rainesol @thehollowwriter @theleechyskrunkly @twst-migraine

@natsukishinomiyaswife @the-trinket-witch (DM me if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist for my TWST OCs stuff)

[reineydraws]

i have a soft spot for fics where billy sort of ends up adopting el and will alongside max. like, these are the kids that get dibs for rides in the camaro haha.

also im unfortunately not participating bc prev commitments but #harringrove for turkey is happening right now if yall want to donate to the earthquake relief funds for turkey & syria and get some art/fic back from harringrove fans! :) check out the tag if you're interested!!

[swearimnevergivingup]

so uh i'm thinking about ex-boyfriend!nanami. you broke up with him 3 years ago but he's never been able to move on. he's tried everything. everything under the sun, and none of it has ever worked.

he isn't even sure if forgetting you is what he wants. he thinks he wants to let you live in the spot carved out for you in his heart, whether that hurts him or not.

and when you run into him in the lobby of your apartment building? one thing leads to another and you find yourself splayed out on the couch obscenely, the oversized shirt you were wearing hiked up to your waist as you slowly part your legs for him.

the world blurs around you.

all you can think about is this very moment.

the significance of what you’re doing is entirely palpable to you. you’re inviting him in, not just to your house, but into your heart again. 

breathing heavily, your eyes follow his every movement in anticipation as his fingers dance across your inner thighs.

his hands slip underneath the waistband of your panties, two fingers sliding in between your slick folds. you tense a little at the sensation as he parts them, the rough pads of his fingers prodding the sensitive bud of nerves that makes you shiver and whine.

“god,” he groans. “i’ve fucking missed this pussy.”

you let out a little laugh at the foul language that slips from his tongue. it’s been so long since you’ve heard his voice, and even longer since you’ve felt his touch.

“missed your cock too, kento,” you murmur, eager to show that you’ve been equally longing for him, if not more. you want to hear more of him, so you reach your hand out to palm at his erection. he’s rock hard, and there’s a little wet spot on his pants from the precum.

“fuck,” he mutters, tilting his head back. “it’s been a while.”

you giggle at that, a little woozy from the wine. “it’s been a while for me too.”

“n-no, you don’t understand,” his grip on your hips tightens as he struggles to maintain his composure. “you were the last.”

oh.

your eyes widen at that revelation, stopping your movements to fully look at him. “w-why haven’t you—”

for the second time tonight, you find yourself in complete disbelief. you were the last person he slept with? that had been more than 2 years ago - way more than enough time for things to change, for someone else to come along.

but then again, nanami’s always been a serious man, and by extension, that applied to his love life too. never one to seek out casual hookups, that man dated to marry. 

“i didn’t want anyone else. only you,” he murmurs. “that hasn’t changed.”

your heart is not the only thing that clenches at the raw sincerity in his voice. 

“say it again,” you whisper. “i want— i want to hear you say it again.”

“i only want you.” nanami must have realised how much you needed to hear that, the same way he had needed your confirmation earlier, because his voice is more resolute this time. “and this—” his hand moves to cup yours, guiding your movements as he slowly drags your hand over his cock. “s’all for you, sweetheart.”

one hand reaches for the back of your neck, holding you tenderly as he peppers kisses on your lips and all over your neck.

the other hand, though, moves deviously between your thighs, a singular digit plunging into your soaked cunt. 

nanami relishes the way you gasp into his mouth, back arching off the couch as all sorts of pretty sounds drip from your flushed lips.

i love you.

i still love you, after all this time.

he doesn’t say it out loud - no, it isn’t the right time. 

but he repeats it loudly enough inside his head, hoping that somehow, you might hear it too. 

a/n: this is part of my upcoming work: i never moved from where you left me (nsfw)

there are apologies to be made, lost time to reclaim, and parts of each other waiting to be rediscovered. and yet, you know him like an old song. you know the words, carved into the lining of your skin, you know its melody, a soft hum that echoes in the chambers of your heart. nanami kento is that lingering rhythm, that pained harmony, existing deep within the cracks of memory and longing - an unfading symphony in your soul.

comment if you would like to be tagged! <3

[exopelagic]

A list of things I’m frustrated by:

[welovelouisandbucky]

You don't say it back

Summary: you prank your boyfriend by not saying "I love you" back, while he's getting late for quidditch practice.

Warnings: Fluff. Kissing (insert scandalised face) Few suggestive moments? Out of character stuff mayne? Seriously, none on this one, lol. Well, of course my writing, as usual. Not proof read.

S/n: positive criticism is appreciated as always. As well as any form of feedbacks, likes, comments or rebloggs. And be kind you guys, this is a safe place for everyone. Enjoy!!

Masterlist

Mattheo Riddle (with Hufflepuff!reader)

It was stupid and ridiculous.

You were just curious of his reaction, that is all.

You heard your friends' talking about doing this to their boyfriends for shits and giggles. At first, you hated the idea of tormenting your significant other for fun, then curiosity consumed your mind for weeks.

Now it seemed like a fun idea to prank your boyfriend, Mattheo Riddle.

You thought it was a perfect way to get back at your boyfriend for teasing you last week in The Great Hall. In your mind it was the perfect revenge.

So you made up your mind to put it into action as soon as you had the chance. Which was now, at his dorm room while he was about to leave for Quidditch practice with Theo.

You were excited as well as anxious for his reaction. Anticipation has been eating away your brain for days now and you were finally going to do it.

Mattheo came up to you and kissed your forehead as you remained sitted on his bed, with your books all splattered around before you.

"gimme a kiss, will you?" He grinned down at you, ignoring annoyed and impatient Theo by the door, who was urging him to hurry up as they were already late.

Smiling, you complied to his wish and kissed him. Without meaning to, you deepen the kiss, clinging onto him as if he's your life support, suddenly not feeling ready to send him off just yet. He seems to think the same way as he holds onto you tighter, kissing you more intensely, cupping your face with his one hand as the other roams down. You almost moan into his mouth when you hear someone gag.

"oi! Stop snogging her and hurry up!" Theo called, tapping his foot impatiently. Matthew rolled his eyes and winked at you before stepping back.

"'ight, love. We'll finish this later, yeah?" Mattheo smirked when you blushed under his gaze. He loves how's you blush at his every word, one of the reasons why he teases you a lot.

"Love you!" He said as he was about to leave with Theo. You just smiled and waved at the both of them. Physically restraining yourself from saying it back, you almost did, but you are glad you didn't as he stopped abruptly.

He looks back at you, expectedly.

You all but smiled up at him innocently. Your eyes never once betraying the guilt you are feeling inside, you just now realised how bad of a timing this is to do this prank, when he's clearly beyond late for his practice. Though, it's too late to go back now.

He clears his throat.

"uh, love? Aren't ya forgetting something?" He asks, his one brow raised in accusing manner. Mattheo steps inside the room again, completely ignoring the loud groan of his best mate ( who looks ready to hit Mattheo with his broomstick any second now ).

You don't reply, just look in his way with furrowed brows, feigning false confusion, which you can tell Mattheo saw right through.

"don't think so, no," you say. You pretend to think over it for couple of minutes before shrugging your head no. Mattheo huffs and rolls his eyes at you. Almost annoyed with you, as you're purposefully making him even more late to his practice.

"c'mon now, princess. Don't play stupid with me," he says impatiently. Not wanting make his team wait any longer on his account, just wanting to get over with that thing as soon as possible so he can come back and spend time with you again. But he can't do that unless he leaves and he's not leaving until you say "I love you" back, but judging by the look on your face, he knows he's not leaving any time soon.

"oh yeaahhhh, sorry, baby!" You giggle. And he smiles, thinking you finally got what he was saying.

"I forgot to wish you luck! Well, good luck with your practice, and have fun!" You tell him affectionately, your voice sugary sweet. You waved him bye again and blowed him a kiss.

Mattheo's hopeful expression falls, so does your heart.

"Y/n," he says, there's an edge to his voice, as well as a slight hint of hurt. Your heart breaks a little inside, regretting your stupid prank now as you look at him. He's standing in middle of the room, in his quidditch robes with his broomstick clutched tightly, his puppy brown eyes looking alarmingly sad.

You know how hard it was for him to express his feelings openly, it is still a struggle for him to express his emotions sometimes, you help him best as you can. And you're really proud of him, for how far along he had come since when you first met him. You curse at yourself mentally, just realising how stupid of an idea this was to began with.

"oh Mattheo," you softly say and go over to him. Wrapping your arms around him and he instantly holds you closer to him, you kiss him tenderly all over his face. "I'm so, so sorry, baby. I thought—i well, doesn't matter now. It was stupid anyways, I'm sorry. I love you." You say against his skin, feeling him tightening his hold, nudging his face deeper into your hair. You heard him sigh of relief, and relax into him.

"sorry, Mattheo. Please forgive me?" You ask, pulling back just a little to look at his face. He gives you one of his smiles which tells you're forgiven, you almost melt into a puddle at that.

"don't. ever. do that again, yeah?" He mumbles before kissing you. He doesn't have to tell you that anyway, since you're never attempting something like this ever again.

He leaves ghostly kisses against your skin, traveling from your lips to sensitive skin under your ear. His hand sliding down to your back, as you lock your arms around his neck.

"don't think you can get away with this so easily, love. We'll see about that forgiveness once I'm back from practice." He whispers darkly, and with one firm pat to your bum, he begins to leave once Theo clears his throat. Making his presence known, which you seemed to forget about completely.

"love you," he smirks your way before leaving with Theo, who looks as if he wants to dig himself into hole and never comeback, ever again.

You try to reply, but no words come out. Suddenly breathless.

You watch him leave with newfound excitement and anticipation burning through your body.

Maybe you're not forgiven afterall.

(divider credits to the rightful owner @rypnami 🙏🏼)

A/n: annnnnnddddd I'm back!!!!! So sorry for disappearing again😭 I have some ideas that I'm currently working on, so hopefully I'll be able to post more content soon!! Yay!

And don't forget to comment or reblog.

Hope you enjoyed reading. Have a nice day!!!

Requests are open.

[nikibogwater]

Actually while I'm thinking about it, I just wanna say that the more live-action remakes Disney shlups out like shoveled manure, the more amazed I am that Cinderella (2015) exists. It breaks literally every standard of Disney's LA remakes.

It's not a shot-for-shot remake of the original 1950 animated film, though it does include small references and homages to it, but only when such things can be incorporated organically into the story.

The creators understood and respected the cross-cultural significance of the Cinderella story. They didn't want to "fix" it, or add some wacky twist to it, they just wanted to make the best possible version of the Quintessential Cinderella that they could.

Everything that could be done practically was done practically. The carriage was a real, the horses pulling it were real, and all of the other animals (with the exception of the mice and lizards, since their performance was a lot more involved than the others') were real living animals, the lizard footman and goose carriage driver were wearing prosthetics instead of just having their animal features added in post, the Fairy Godmother's dress had little LED lights sewn into it so that it would actually glow for real, the ballroom set was built by hand and included real chandeliers with more than 2000 total candles that were all actually lit for the scene, and I could go on but you get the point.

There's a ton of attention paid to little details that make the world feel real and lived in. Ella's shoes are always a little scuffed and dirty. Her farm dress is faded and wrinkled. When she breaks down and runs away to the woods, she rides her horse bareback (which, once again, was a thing Lily James actually did, no stunt-double or editing in post), because not only is that something a country girl like her would know how to do, but it also makes sense that with as upset as she is, she wouldn't want to waste time with saddling the horse. When she's dancing with the prince, it's visually obvious that he is leading her and giving her cues because of course Ella wouldn't know the latest ballroom dances, and would need him to guide her through it.

Hey speaking of dancing, y'know what else this movie does that no other LA remake has been allowed to do (at least not to this extent)? ROMANCE. Land sakes alive, this is one of the most unabashedly and yet still tastefully romantic movies I've ever seen. Ella and Kit are just oozing romantic chemistry from the moment they lock eyes for the first time. It all comes down to the fact that these two characters both have the same core values of courage and kindness, which makes their admiration for each other feel grounded and believable. Richard Madden also really sells Kit's feelings for Ella with the way his eyes go all big and soft whenever he looks at her. And don't even get me started on Lily's performance as Ella. Her quiet awe that someone as powerful as the prince loves her. The timidity and fear that she's not really worthy of that. The selfless determination to protect him from her family's cruelty, even if it means she'll never see him again, I'm just-- *banging my fist against the table and screaming into a pillow*

Absolutely god-tier costume design. No notes, I think Sandy Powell's work speaks for itself. Btw, in case you were somehow still wondering, yes, Ella's ballgown is fully practical--those layers upon layers of dreamy silk skirts are real. CG was only used to brighten up the blue color to make her stand out from the crowd more.

Wicked stepmother was allowed to actually be wicked. The movie never tries to make you sympathize with Lady Tremaine, or shift the blame off to someone else. And her villainy is given an extra layer of depth with the reveal that she is a dark reflection of Ella. They've both lost people they loved, but where Ella refused to let her grief get in the way of kindness, Lady Tremaine became utterly consumed by it. She views the death of her first husband as a sort of twisted justification for pursuing all her worst impulses. She despises Ella for her ability to flourish even while enduring terrible suffering, for being everything Lady Tremaine was either unable or flat-out refused to be.

Also Cate Blanchet absolutely SLAYS in this role. Hands-down my favorite portrayal of the wicked stepmother character.

Anyways, TLDR: Cinderella (2015) is the only Disney live-action remake that can justify its own existence and that's because it actively defies everything the LA remakes are today.

[hyperions-light]

Someone was being a fucking hater on my explicitly positive DATV post AGAIN (u all know I can see your tags right. They get delivered to me express mail style) so here’s an essay about how I thought the Grey Warden plotline was great:

First, it was extremely lore-consistent. I don’t know how to tell people this, but the Grey Wardens simply are sort of shady— it’s part of their charm. In DAO alone we found out they:

- kill anyone who refuses the joining

- are definitely using a blood magic ritual to induct people

- tried to usurp the throne of Fereldan

In DA2 they:

-Forced Malcolm Hawke to perform a blood magic ritual against his will to contain Corypheus, by threatening to kill his family

- Built a giant prison in the mountains they didn’t tell anyone about and that someone could wander into and not be able to escape

- the entire Corypheus thing. They didn’t even tell the other Wardens like what he was or how dangerous he was.

DAI:

- the demon army thing was pretty bad

And that’s not even mentioning any stuff from the books or comics or shows! That’s just stuff in the games!

So they’re shady. It’s okay! They’re my little woobie guys, idc if they’re sort of shady!

But the plot in DATV is about all of those previously established issues coming back to bite them in the fucking ass, as they should! Knock knock, it’s the consequences of your actions, baby! The chickens are home to roost

(Which is just good storytelling. Like if you set up a bunch of issues and then never pay them off or anything that’s bad.)

Destroying Weisshaupt was inspired! Firstly bc Davrin is Weisshaupt, metaphorically (bulwark against the darkness, etc, I already made a post) so it serves his character arc. But also because it strips away the pageantry and the grandeur from them; no more castle for you! No more myth!

Davrin explicitly tells you that the First Warden is a traditionalist; he represents the historical attitudes of the Wardens. They do not accept help, they do not give up their secrets, they are standing alone against the dark. And it doesn’t work! He’s fucking wrong (and very punch-able). Being secretive and isolationist is a mistake that costs them nearly everything.

But also, and I’m not sure how many people experienced this on the first go-around, the game does ultimately come down on the side of the Wardens always trying to do the right thing. You CAN talk the First Warden down, because in the end he’s a Warden, and he might be stubborn and curmudgeonly and miserable but he CARES about the world. He came to do good. He admits he was wrong and he helps you. Because the heart of the Wardens is about selfless service to other people. In Death, Sacrifice.

Stripping away Weisshaupt and the glory and pageantry leaves the Wardens at their most vulnerable and forces them to return to their fundamental principles: helping people. That’s what Lavendel is about. Helping individual people and preserving every life possible even if it doesn’t feel that glamorous or heroic. Lavendel isn’t a significant place; it doesn’t matter, but it matters so much.

And then, the Cauldron.

First off, do not at me about Last Flight. I don’t think people should have to read external materials to play this game and understand it. If the information is vital it should be presented to the player in the text.

The Cauldron is the repository of the Wardens’ secrets; it’s where the keep the bones of the Archdemons, the secret to the Joining, ancient and dangerous weapons, as well as the bodies of the griffons, which represents their most shameful errors. Isseya is the avatar of the Wardens’ mistakes; she’s been hurt by what they made her do, and her pain was never acknowledged by them. They buried her story and her suffering like they bury everything they don’t want to deal with and are ashamed of. They left the bones of the griffons, whose deaths they directly caused, to rot because they were too sad to acknowledge them.

But it was wrong to walk away, it was wrong to bury it. Isseya makes sure that they can never do that again, that they have to own what they did and take responsibility. By discovering who she is and by restoring her personhood to her, by reminding her of her love which drove her to her anguish in the first place, Davrin saves her and he saves the griffons. He doesn’t do it using violence, because another sin of the Wardens is just assuming that they can kill their way out of their problems, which the game disproves by revealing the origin of the Blight. You can kill as many darkspawn as you want, you will never fix it! The Titans’ dreams do not need to be slain, they need to be healed.

Isseya is in so much pain because of her incredible love for both the griffons and the Wardens, and because of her guilt. Look what she builds! An alternate Weisshaupt, a distorted reflection of her home. She entreats both Davrin and Assan to join her, because she doesn’t think she’s trying to destroy anything. She’s trying to save them! She wants them to come home. “I am their mother,” she says, and she’s right. She saved them, then, and she ends up saving them now! Because she made Davrin and the other Wardens look, unflinchingly, at what they had done, it will never happen again. She was going about it wrong during the game, but she was ALWAYS trying to save them.

Davrin, Antoine and Evka represent the Wardens’ commitment to being different. They let Flynn undergo the Joining without becoming a Warden, they reveal secrets to non-Warden Rook, they offer to help the Viper without asking for anything in return. They ask for help and offer it freely. If the Wardens are going to persist into a world without Archdemons, they HAVE to change. They can’t be what they were anymore. The game is asking what a Warden is when they have to be more than their oath, when they have to live. It’s a great exploration of and expansion on previously established lore.

Anyway, my advice if you hated the plot and the game and the characters is to a) make your own post b) don’t bother me about it, because I have the time and I will be loudly positive in response!

[notjustjavierpena]

Swelter

Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This happened because the SAG Awards made me horny. I have no other explanation for my behavior, no other defence. Maybe that I was listening to ur dad by VIAL. Obviously also a huge thanks to @strang3lov3 for being the cutest love bug I know, and for putting up with my brainstorming sessions.

Summary: You have a crush on Sarah’s father. It is summer, it is hot, and you just want a cold drink.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, best friend’s dad, significant age gap (reader is 19-22, Joel is in his mid-40s), SEXUAL TENSION, bee stings, groping, voyeur to some degree, f masturbation, dirty talk, an endless amount of pet names, sexy play with a soda can, praise kink, car sex, daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv sex, joel’s cock is huge in this, creampie, premature ejaculation, pussy eating, come eating, squirting

Word count: 6.8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54233479

Swelter

A warm Texas breeze blows through the open window of Sarah’s childhood room, making the see-through pink curtains move elegantly from side to side. It hits your back right underneath your halter neck as you lay on Sarah’s bed, caressing your bare skin and making you think of him. You wonder if his hands would have the same effect on you because you find yourself shivering but not from feeling cold. He is somewhere here, and his daughter doesn’t even know that her best friend obsesses about that fact.

Sarah hasn’t changed her room since she was a teenager. She told you this the first time she brought you here, which is almost a year ago today. You were here last summer too, thrilled to be invited to spend a few weeks of your summer with a friend from college and you and her have been inseparable ever since, even if you are so different from each other.

You have your face in a woman’s magazine, propped up on your elbows so you can suck on a popsicle stick whilst turning the pages. There’s a page with the recipe for ‘The Best Fudgy Chocolate Cake Ever!’ next to a page on how to lose weight, and it makes you snort.

“What?” Sarah turns on her chair, pausing the video on her computer.

“What kinda woman are you? You can choose one, but only one. Don’t get greedy now!” You make a scratchy voice but then pop your ice pop in your mouth to hold up the magazine for her to see.

“Seriously? We can’t win,” she groans dramatically, “Chocolate cake always. I just want to be happy, and that looks like a serotonin boost.”

Suddenly, the door opens without any warning. It’s him. Mr. Miller. You quickly remove the popsicle from your mouth, not about to show him how your lips are stretched around the sugary snack. The open door causes a draft to blow the smell of his cologne your way, and it is intoxicating beyond your imagination because you relish in it in secret.

“Dad,” Sarah says with exasperation, “I thought being an adult earned you the privilege of more privacy.”

“It’s gettin’ colder outside now,” he states and ignores her comment, hand resting on the doorknob, “The Adlers need Mercy to be walked, and the pavement’s coolin’ down.”

“I walked him when I was fourteen,” she furrows her brow and you suppress a snicker, “I’m twenty.”

“Just ‘cause you’re grown, don’t mean you can’t do right by ‘em,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you say from your spot on the bed as Sarah fumes quietly, absentmindedly reaching to pull the short skirt of your dress down. He can probably see the start of your ass from how it has been riding up as you lay down on the sheets.

“Hiya darlin’,” he replies and you swear you can hear a restrained sound in his voice. He turns to Sarah again, “Get your butt off that chair.”

“Fine,” she follows through on her orders but still wants to argue, probably embarrassed at being ordered around by her father in front of her friend. She gestures to you, “And what about my guest?”

“She’s grown too, which means she can probably entertain herself the half hour you’ll be gone,” he dares wink at you, and blood courses through your veins.

“I’ll just get that assignment done while you’re out,” you reassure and try not to seem like your core is shaking.

“See?” Joel looks triumphant.

“You’d make a hell of a lawyer,” she deadpans at her father and walks past him.

When he closes the door and leaves you alone in the bedroom, you can feel your popsicle having melted, its syrupy water running down your fingers. You switch hands and suck the sticky fingers into your mouth. The action makes Mr. Miller’s image flash in your mind and you press your thighs together before getting up and finding your laptop.

You find that it’s near impossible to concentrate on proofreading your assignment in the tiny bedroom after just five minutes of being alone. It’s not that you can’t concentrate in the Summer heat but no matter what you do, your mind keeps circling back to Joel’s voice as he called you darling. It heats you more than the sun ever could, and with every tap on your keyboard, your mouth gets more and more dry.

Eventually, you push yourself to stand from your seat at the desk and make a decision to go fetch something to drink, and it is definitely not with the intention of accidentally bumping into Sarah’s father. Not even when you do not find Joel in the kitchen and decide to bypass it altogether to continue into the garage in hopes of being successful in your search for a drink (obviously).

This infatuation started last year. It took you about ten seconds - from walking into the kitchen and shaking Joel’s hand - to realize that Sarah was cursed with having him as a father. Firstly, he was outrageously handsome; always wearing washed-out t-shirts that clung to his shoulders, always smiling with teeth, sporting salt-and-pepper curls, and sometimes even shocking you by entering the kitchen with working gloves on. However, when he opened his mouth and spoke, a southern drawl dripped from his lips and made your whole body tense up. He was charming, respectful, and laughed at the right moments. Most importantly, he laughed at every damn attempt that you made at being funny, and while it was probably an attempt to be nice and make you feel at home, it spurred you on terribly to win him over at every opportunity.

Despite all that, those opportunities weren’t many. He was also cool enough to know that his daughter didn’t want him hanging around all the time, and so he spent many days either in the garden to mow the lawn in competition with the rest of the fathers down the street, in the garage to fix up some old truck, or with his brother, Tommy, and Tommy’s wife who always had some DIY-project going on.

Thus, the summer became one of tanning sessions in the garden, movies in Sarah’s room, stolen glances at Joel Miller whenever he came inside to quench his thirst after hard labor, and secret longing whenever he had kept away for too long.

One particular day last year, Sarah had failed to mention that her father would be home most of the last days you were in their house, and because he was always out, you were getting more and more comfortable with walking around in your towels post-showers or leaving the door unlocked when changing.

The particular event had happened in the morning when the house had been silent except for the kitchen where Sarah was preparing breakfast, using a large box of pancake mix and the whole fruit section of the local grocery store for topping. You had just showered, standing with your head in your suitcase to search for the last few pieces of clothing you had that were clean when there was a rap on the door and a pull of the handle not even a second later.

“Sarah, I need—“

You whipped around at the sound of a new voice entering the room. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest, feeling as though it was fighting its way out between your ribs as embarrassment began to flood your system. Even so, you stood too frozen to reach for something to cover yourself up.

Joel was in the doorway and dead silent, looking as if struck by lightning. Like earlier today, his hand had been resting on the doorknob and in the painfully short moment that the both of you were processing the situation, you saw that his grip tightened enough to whiten his knuckles.

And then it happened, the thing that had soaked you in forbidden desire and delicious excitement; his gaze had flickered down your body and taken you in for the briefest of seconds. His gaze had traveled from the hard peaks of your nipples to the shape of your hips and the softness of your young cunt.

“Fuck,” you heard him utter as he remembered himself and his self-awareness made you finally grab the top you were going to be wearing that day to cover up your quivering body. He slammed the door shut and spoke through it, “Christ, ’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay, Mr. Miller,” you promised but he was already gone. You immediately locked the door afterward to come so hard with two fingers on your clit that you had to hold onto the chair by the desk.

God, you want him to look at you like that again, want to tell him it is all for him. Now, as wrong as you know it is, you find yourself searching for an excuse to get him to ogle you and the chances are higher if he actually spends time with you.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you announce yourself as you enter the garage through the door in the kitchen. Joel has his head inside the hood of his truck, leaning over to inspect something that you wouldn’t understand anything about anyway. He grips the front side of the engine room to push himself to stand, closes the top of the hood of his truck, and turns around to face you.

“Hey kiddo,” he returns with a smile, “How many times do I gotta say to ya that it’s just Joel?”

“Alright, Mr. Miller,” you tease, “—I mean, Just Joel.”

You hear him laugh softly but you don’t dare look at him, afraid that you’ll spontaneously combust. He goes to the utility sink to wash his hands, saying nothing more and making you feel insane for coming apart in the silence.

“I’m just getting something to drink,” you explain when it becomes too much, “Sarah’s room is boiling hot.”

“That’s fine, take what you’d like,” he replies, and there’s a kind teasing in his voice. “But don’t touch the orange sodas. Those are mine.”

The concrete floor of the garage is cold on your bare feet as you pad across the floor where an old bottom-freezer refrigerator stands in the corner, humming in the otherwise quiet room. It has seen better days, and it seems like Sarah has tried to cheer up its weathered appearance by covering it in stickers and ugly magnets.

“Now I have to get one of those,” you giggle and pull the door open, scanning the contents and noticing that the sodas are on the bottom shelf. You hesitate for just a second, and then you choose to bend over instead of crouching down. Behind you, Joel Miller is completely silent.

In the beginning, it hadn’t been your intention to let the crush fester in your brain and turn it into something more but last week, during dinner out on the terrace, you had accidentally sat down on a bee and gotten stung on the back of your thigh. The cry you had let out had nearly made Joel tip over the table to get to you, his chair falling backward as he got up from his seat.

“Fuck! Ow ow ow!” You cried and hobbled around on the grass. The pain was unbearable but the shock only seemed to make it worse.

“Sarah, please get some ice and some antihistamines. There should be a bottle on my nightstand,” Joel ordered quickly and she rushed inside. He walked toward you, grabbing at your shoulders to ground you but his touch only heightened all other sensations. He dug his thumbs into you and your head swam, “Sweetheart, ‘tis just a bee, shh, calm down. I need to remove the stinger. Lemme see ya.”

“It really fucking hurts, Mr. Miller,” you said with a whine as he guided you to one of the loungers that Sarah and you had dragged out from the shed earlier that week.

“I know,” he finally let go of you so you could think just a bit more clearly, “Lemme take a look. Lie down on your front.”

You followed orders with the realization of how much you trusted his judgment, that he would treat you right, moving carefully because the flex of your thigh muscle was making the pain worse. The wooden lounger burned slightly against the front of your thighs, and you pressed your cheek into its slats while screwing your eyes shut.

The wood creaked behind you as he knelt on it with one knee and suddenly, his broad hand was perched on the top of your thigh in an attempt to keep your skin taut. You sucked in a breath but he only mistook it for more pain.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I can see it,” his breath was slightly quicker but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, “He really got ya right on your inner thigh. Hold on.”

Your eyes shot open when his thumb ran towards the innermost part of the back of your thigh, a sort of panicked arousal spiking from your chest and thighs. He paused for a second then murmured something, a swear word that you tried to take as frustration. There was a beat but then he cleared his throat, “Can you bend your leg a little? I wanna make sure that I get it on the first try.”

“How?” You asked stupidly. The image of how he would be looming over your backside made your heartbeat go down between your legs, “My dress’ll ride up.”

“Just bend the knee a little, pull it towards your chest,” he explained and cleared his throat once more, “On my life, I won’t look.”

So you did as he told you, and sure enough, your dress betrayed you by crawling slowly up to sit around your hip instead of the middle part of your thigh. You looked back at him when he started picking at the stinger with his nails, and you hoped that he would not notice your gawking at his concentrated expression.

A flash of the day he had barged in on you naked flashed in your mind because his eyes were so focused on not staring at you that you nearly whimpered when you saw his eyes flicker to the spot of dampness between your legs for no more than a second.

You had worn white cotton panties that day so they would not be seen through your dress. They were straining against your pussy in this position and all he had to do was reach out, and he’d find your clit poking against the fabric from how excited you were feeling.

He had had the perfect outline of your cunt, and it’s the same now as you bend over to get to the very bottom of the fridge, reaching for a cold drink that just happens to be his favorite. You know that he can see everything, and the worst is that you know he already has. Twice. The mere thought is so dirty that your heart starts pounding in your chest and sends heat through your already hot body, so you hurry to stretch to your full height again.

With a cocky grin that is mostly put on to hide your anxious excitement about what you have just done, you turn to face Joel and walk to stand in front of him and his car. His cologne fills your nostrils again, and the scent seems once again to have a direct line to your cunt because you have never felt more empty. In front of you, Joel’s jaw is clenched but other than that, he seems a lot more calm and composed than you.

That is until you jump onto the hood of the car and scoot back, letting your bare feet dangle out over the edge. You crack open the soda in your hand and take a sip that is a little longer than intended. The satisfying burn of the fizz grounds you in the warm climate, but it is even more heavenly as you tuck the skirt of your dress between your thighs so you can place the cold can there.

Joel shakes his head with a sigh but you know he is playing a game as much as you because he cannot help but crack a smile back at you, “You’re trouble, I knew it the second Sarah brought ya into my house.”

“Oh, whatever will I do?” You ask dramatically and lean back against the windshield.

“Go morally bankrupt?” He raises a brow. If only he knew what is going through your mind. You catch him looking at you in the fashion that you have craved when you sigh deeply and cause your chest to push out.

“Only that?” You take another sip and some of the contents spill down your chin in a thick, sticky trail due to the angle you’re sitting in. You reach up to wipe it away with your index finger and then dare to suck your finger clean with the intention of mimicking the way that you had licked it clean earlier when it had been coated in melted popsicle.

“Give it here,” he says. You lock eyes with him. However, your eyes widen slightly when he nods at the can and takes it from between your thighs. There’s electricity shooting through your nerves the second his fingers touch the fabric of your dress but they intensify to a dizzying degree when he takes a sip of the soda too.

Like a reflex, the sight of him drinking from the can that’s been nestled between your thighs makes your legs fall out to the sides. You’re worse than an obedient dog in your horniness, reacting the same way to the way he moves as it would to the sound of a bell ringing.

Your dress rides up slowly along your thighs, revealing your sweaty skin that feels sticky by now and Joel clears his throat after briefly looking down. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and when you realize the effect it has on the poor man, you grab the hem and pull upwards, “It’s so hot outside today. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to the heat here in Texas.”

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says and his face has got a pinker tint, pulse visible on the side of his neck. With his free hand, he grabs one of your knees and starts nudging your legs together again. He yanks your skirt down, “I know I’m always teasin’ ya but you can’t be doing this.”

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you say with exasperation and move your legs out again, “It’s just very hot… and it’s not like you haven’t had a peek.”

“Hey now,” he leans forward to place the can of soda on the roof of the truck, “That ain’t a fair accusation.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” you reply, chewing on your bottom lip, “But you’re not denying it.”

“Don’t tryna make me look like the pervert here,” he scolds, taking a step towards you and causing your stomach to do somersaults, “I noticed the way you went real quiet when my hands were on you.”

“What do you mean?” You furrow your brows in confusion, “Your hands were never on m–”

“Did that bee sting really hurt that much?” He clarifies. Oh, you think whilst he smirks with triumph. Something has switched in the air surrounding you, the atmosphere has become more daring, “Yeah, I saw her; your pussy wet f’me.”

It’s true. If you think about it too much, you can still feel your heartbeat in the places where he touched you, and the pulse is rapid and overwhelming. You can’t imagine what it'll be like if he touches you underneath your dress, even if it’s simply on the outside of your panties. The thought has your underwear starting to dampen, the fabric starting to stick to you, and make you painfully aware of the wetness between your legs.

“Did ya touch yourself after?” His eyes have darkened slightly. His pupils are dilating with desire for your answer, and you nod hesitantly, overwhelmed by the need to tell him everything.

“During my shower that you told me to take,” you confess and hear him make a sound low in his throat at the mental image, “I couldn’t stop myself— I wanted you so badly. The thought of you inside me...”

This is a crossroad, you realize, you’ve said your deepest secret of depravity. On one hand, you can bolt out the door or you can make a move to show him what you really came down here for. The latter is risky but Joel is so goddamn decent that you know that if he doesn’t want this - which you doubt is the case at this point - he’ll gently reject you and never mention it again if it means that his daughter will continue having a best friend.

However, as your mind races with scenarios of what could or could not happen in this moment, Joel pulls you back into reality as his hand, cold from gripping the can, rests on your knee again but this time, it doesn’t try to make you decent like before. Instead, it slides up under your skirt in such a slow motion that you find yourself holding your breath.

“Is this what’ll quiet down that mind of yours?” He asks in a low voice, eyes flickering from your face to down between your legs and back again, “If I take a peek more to get it outta our system?”

“What are you doing?” You ask as if you do not know. It’s your turn to be scandalized by bluntness, and you find yourself gripping his arm but not hard enough to signal that you do not want him to continue. You hope that he realizes that this is not you rejecting his advances.

“I ain’t doing nothin’ that you haven’t already silently begged me to do. Perhaps sometimes - and God help me, I will probably regret it - you just needa follow your instincts when a pretty girl like you has been sendin’ me heart eyes all week,” he almost sounds annoyed with you, and to stop yourself from being scolded, your hand loosens its grip on him until you remove it altogether. He smiles, “Good girl.”

“You shouldn’t—“ you feel a rush of blood to your head, adrenaline kicking in as your thoughts circle around the repercussions that this can bring. In all honesty, you had only walked in here to have Joel’s eyes on you but now, you are getting more than you bargained for and it is making you so turned on that your mind is clear and foggy at the same time. Boldly, you sit up on the car’s hood so you can reach for the buckle of Joel’s belt, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You’re damn right we shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he agrees immediately but doesn’t stop. His warm and rough palms skim further up your thighs until they settle by your hips, his thumbs teasing the elastic band of your panties. He starts to drag them down, the fabric nearly snapping in two when you barely register that you have to lift your ass to help him.

His fingers unintentionally caress your calves as he slides the underwear down to eventually pull them off your ankles and feet. The sensation makes your body wake up even more, a gush of wetness smearing your inner thighs and you know that you have to pull your dress up soon if you don’t want it stained.

In front of you, Joel reads your mind. He shoves the hem of your dress up as far as he can without a word with desperation in his trembling hands, and you move to let him bunch it up around your waist so he has a full view of what waits - and for long has waited - for him.

When your cunt is revealed to him, he groans like he is in pain at the sight of the slick shining on your soft youthful skin. You can see how hard he is in his jeans, cock straining against the zipper at the front of them.

He looks like he wants to touch but hesitates. The first sign of his inner conflict. You remember that he did say just a peek as if there’s an unspoken agreement that he is not to cross the line of touching what he shouldn’t want to have. It would definitely be a nuclear decision if he chooses to do it anyway. It makes you want it even more, and another gush spills from your glistening slit when you clench from excitement.

Joel swears under his breath, something that sounds like fuck it and it sets it in stone; he is going to ruin you for eternity right here on his car. He steps closer until your spread knees bump into his sides, and without saying anything you move to yank his jeans and briefs down, settling them around his hips with a soft gasp as you take in the sight of his fully hard cock. He is huge. So huge that your mouth starts salivating like you’ve already been fucked stupid and your walls try to clamp down on nothing. It’ll hurt. You want it to if it means that you won’t doubt if it ever happened tomorrow.

“Tell me you want this too,” he seeks your reassurance.

“So fucking badly, Mr. Miller— Joel,” you say without any hint of second-guessing in your voice. You scoot further forward on the car and lean back so he has better access, trying your best to be elegant in your messy state, “Please, want you in me.”

“Jeez, honey,” his breath shakes, “Already so eager. I haven’t even felt if she’s ready f’me.”

With one hand gripping your left thigh, he uses two fingers on his right hand to slide through your wet folds and you don’t think you have ever been this turned on for anyone; when he flips his palm upwards and shoves two fingers inside of you, you feel more arousal drip from your cunt and pool in his hand. The longing you have felt since you saw him for the first time finds somewhere to empty all its desire and desperation into, and you whine like you’re in a state of agony.

“Shhh…” he soothes and curls his digits inside of you until you think you might start crying, squelching cunt trying to pull him further into you as he fingers you lazily. Your gaze drops to how his cock twitches whilst standing in the air, “You’re grippin’ me so good, doll, can’t wait to fuck this pussy. Don’t cry like that. Be patient.”

“Please, I’m so—“ your palms are flat on the hood of the car, your mouth hangs open in ecstasy and you stare down at where his ring- and middle finger disappears repeatedly into you, “It’s yours, please.”

“I know it’s mine, don’t gotta say it, I know,” he coos at each of your whimpers, gets you worked up until you are just on the brink of coming, and then he moves quickly. He pulls his fingers out of you, smears his cock with what you’ve soaked his whole palm with, and leans over your gasping frame to nudge at your quivering hole.

When he finally enters you, the both of you gasp in unison. He struggles with it for a moment, rubbing the skin just below your belly button to make you relax because he is so much bigger than you had first anticipated, and such a tight fit that you think he might split you in two.

“Goddamn, you are tight,” he says through gritted teeth, “Feels fuckin’ amazin’.”

“Ah,” you feel like letting yourself turn into a drooling mess already, pulsating around him from the way your body struggles to take him, “Joel, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, honey,” he encourages, showing no signs of pulling out of you to free you from the burn of his girth. He growls low in his throat as you struggle with it, and you know it’s because your walls are clenching around him as you involuntarily move, “Stay still, let her get used to it.”

“It hurts,” you whine, sliding slightly on the metal underneath your ass. He presses his hips forward even further and causes you to whimper but in doing so, he holds you firmly in place by using his strong frame.

“I know but ya just gotta relax,” he goes on. He places one hand flat on the hood of the car and then places the other right on your hip, thumb going inwards to find your clit. It pulses under his finger, trying to find out whether to find the pain delicious or not.

When his thumb starts going in circles on you, your thigh muscles start to twitch and flex from burning desire instead of uncomfortable pain. He presses down a little to stroke your sensitive nub with even more determination and smiles at his success when a moan slips from your mouth, “That’s it, honey. Just enjoy this until you’re creamin’ on me, and then I can fuck her real good.”

Your walls start to flutter a few seconds after the first new round of pleasurable sounds leave you, and the more his finger moves on you, the easier it gets to take him because the pain turns into nothing more than a dull ache in the background of ecstasy. He has you breathing faster and faster, and in return, he starts moving his thumb up and down to make his touches more direct.

God, your clit is hardening underneath his torment. He stares at what he is doing, an occasional grunt leaving him from how you involuntarily squeeze his length, and you know that he can sense it, suddenly smirking to himself as you near your climax. He admires the sight of you, eyes glued to the way the hood of your clit has drawn back, “Babydoll, look at that. Such a pretty pussy, clit peekin’ out and all. Does she wanna come on my cock?”

“Please, yes, oh please,” you nod repeatedly, mouth hanging open in an o-shape and breaths coming out in small puffs. Your climax is within reach, and Joel looks concentrated as he more than willingly hands it over to you whilst buried deep inside of you. The concentration on his face is probably from keeping himself from spilling inside of you too soon, but God, he looks gorgeous as he determinedly strokes your cunt.

“Yes, yes, yesyesyes— oh God, I’m… fuck, I’m coming!” You shake with pleasure as he causes your pussy to spasm, your hands barely able to find out what to do and making you grab at both the metal underneath you with one hand and his wrist with the other. Your eyes are squeezed shut but you do not doubt that he is staring at you in awe as you come so hard that reality fades.

“Good girl,” he rasps, voice unsteady and hand hitting the hood of the car as the feeling becomes overwhelming, “Oh sweetheart, you’re choking my dick so g—“

He swears quietly and then loudly, and suddenly, his cool demeanor crumbles because he is spilling his load inside of you with a pathetic and strained grunt. His hips stutter slightly and warmth spreads slowly inside of you, mixing with your own arousal.

You look down to where the two of you are connected, feeling fucked out despite not even having had the chance to feel him move inside of you. His come has started to spill from you already, dripping obscenely from your cunt.

“Fuck,” you hear Joel say above you. He slips out of you and leaves you gaping and mewling for a second, starting to take a step back. You catch him with your legs before he is too far away, and he reluctantly steps close to you again. He looks embarrassed but gives you a smile to hide it, “Felt too good, honey. This pussy’s makin’ me all sweet on you.”

“I’m that irresistible?” You grin in your post-orgasmic haze, not really giving a crap about the lack of a proper fuck from how much dopamine is coursing through your veins.

Joel takes hold of your thighs as they are wrapped around your body and lifts them off of himself, “You’re makin’ an old bastard like me weak in the knees, so maybe. Hah! Comin’ too soon like a goddamn teenager.”

“I liked it,” you admit without hesitation, still basking in the sweet afterglow, “Made me feel sexy and powerful.”

He scoffs but can’t fight the smile on his face, “Now now, don’t get cocky on me. Crawl back a little, spread ya legs f’me.”

You giggle and do as you are told, presenting yourself to him on the hood of his car. You plant your bare feet on the metal, lay back against the windshield, and smile.

“Now look at that,” he tuts as he admires his work; white ropes of come dripping down from your slit and onto the surface beneath you. He lays both hands flat on the car and leans forward, and before you know it, his mouth is covering your whole cunt and he eats from you like he’s paid to do it.

“Jesus,” you groan, throwing your head back and grabbing onto the roof of the car with one hand whilst the other finds Joel’s hair. You tug and he moans against you, sending vibrations through your whole lower body and beginning the first stirrings of another high. You don’t think that you can take it, squirming just like you had done moments earlier.

Joel makes a sound of disapproval. He scoops his arms under your thighs until he can lay his hands on top of them, holding you tightly against his mouth and causing you to cry towards the ceiling when he makes your second orgasm approach so quickly that nothing in your brain makes sense except what he is doing between your legs.

The hand on the roof of his car goes to his head too. You slide your fingers on both hands through his hair until they lay at the back of his neck, and then you yank once more at the curls there. His tongue works at your clit, swiping back and forth over it until you think that you might see God.

However, it doesn’t stay there. Instead, it is replaced by his nose so that he can eat his own spill straight from you by dipping his tongue hungrily inside of you.

“Joel— holy fuck, you’re incredible,” you close your eyes to concentrate on your pleasure. Who knew that the man could fuck with his tongue? He is warm and wet inside of you, slurping pornographically until you are clean of any remains of his come.

You are just about to finish a second time when he halts whatever he is doing. He pulls back only a few inches so you can still feel his uneven breaths against your cunt.

“No! Please,” your eyes fly open, you cry desperately, and throw your head forward dramatically. You want to thrash but he still has your legs locked in his arms, so you decide to pull out the big guns and hope for the best, “Please, Daddy! Pleasepleaseplea—“

“What the fuck did you just say t’me?” He looks up at you but you are too busy screwing your eyes shut in agony whilst whining for more. He growls and releases one of your legs, “I was already gonna make you a happy young lady but now, I’m gonna make you come so hard your little brain goes dumb. See how it feels. Impatient girl.”

His hand goes between your legs. He turns his palm upwards and then shoves two thick fingers inside of your pussy like earlier, curling them slightly and then pumping them so quickly that blood starts speeding through your system a second after and your heart rate goes so fast that you know that you are just about to come.

“Joel, oh my— fuck!” You whimper.

“Wrong word,” he replies.

You correct yourself immediately because there’s no way he is stopping again to chastise you once more, “Daddy, oh I— mhmm, I’m gonna come for you. Don’t stop, please, please Daddy, pleasepleaseplea—!”

He responds just how you had liked: He closes his mouth around your swollen clit and sucks hard, finally severing all connection to your brain and you come so hard that you actually squeal. Joel groans against you, feeling you squeeze the digits he has buried deep inside you. He draws back his fingers, pressing upwards the whole way.

Clear liquid squirts from you the second he pulls them out. The gushes that follow are so intense that the leg he isn’t holding anymore shakes so violently that the metal rattles under you, the car staining with your come. He repeats the move again and again, over and over, and watches the steady trickle down the hood and onto the concrete floor that turns a dark gray.

Euphoria courses through your being as you come in a way that you have never felt before. Your limbs tingle as warmth spreads out from beneath your belly button, your cunt pulses with eager pleasure, and you sob through the waves that crash over you without giving you time to recover from the last. The whole room feels brighter and its colors more vibrant.

“Shh, baby, let it happen, feels so good, don’t it? That’s it,” Joel coos at you the whole way through, guides you through it when you barely know how to use your words. He has straightened to his full height again but you don’t know when, and he has slowed his fingers down to tease out a few aftershocks. You whimper feebly at each one, and when Joel seems satisfied with what he has drawn out of you, he covers your whole mound with his palm to soothe the feeling of overstimulation that settles.

“Soundproof,” he mutters, once again reading your mind when you come to your senses again and start thinking about your noise levels with furrowed brows and eyes flitting from him to the garage door. Your heartbeat has started to slow again, and the relief of knowing no one has been able to hear you makes you slump against the windshield and breathe deeply.

The remnants of your orgasm have made you smile, your body slipping into a deep state of satisfaction when the anxieties have been dispelled. Joel moves his hand up your lower body until it settles between your breasts, still covered by your dress. He caresses your heaving chest, looking at you boyishly for the first time, “You good? Didn’t cause any brain damage, did I?”

“You think this truck has ever seen action like that before?” You joke breathlessly.

“Probably ain’t the first time I disappointed a gorgeous lady in its presence,” he says with an apologetic smile, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Disappointed? You’re insane,” you stretch your arms above your head to get some of the last bits of euphoria out of your body, trying to ignore the way he has just called you a gorgeous lady. He probably means nothing by it. As your stretch peaks, you moan gently, “I came two times. Hard. I’m not complaining.”

“Just saying that I woulda liked to do it… properly, I guess,” he talks as he stuffs himself back into his underwear and pants, most likely trying to feel the least uncomfortable about mentioning his overexcitement. Automatically, he steps back when you jump off the car to adjust your dress.

“This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing,” you try to act casual as you say it but there’s no way you are accepting the best sex of your life to be a thing you will never have again, reducing it to a movie merely playing behind your eyelids as a cruel reminder of what is unattainable.

“And when would we have time for that?” He asks, zipping up his jeans. He wipes his hands on them, “We can’t, honey.”

“We just did,” you mumble, picking up your underwear from the floor. You turn the panties in your hands, just about to bend down to put them on before deciding against it. Boldly, you stand in front of him and stuff your sticky underwear into his front pocket; closest to his crotch. There are extra pairs in your bag in Sarah’s room. He can have these.

He looks down briefly and then finds your eyes. His jaw clenches as he weighs his words, “When?”

“Aren’t you driving me to the airport on Sunday?” You smile and kiss his cheek, and then you leave him, your soda in hand and a mess on the floor.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[hysteria-things]

smut w chris and goody 2 shoes reader who always acts so smart and innocent w people then acts like a brat to chris?

he gets sick of it and roughly fucks her into her place , caring less for her pleasure and using her just so she knows how much of a slut she is!

LESSON LEARNED

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: brat tamer!chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you get taught a lesson when you act like a brat in public.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, spanking, humiliation, face fucking, dry humping, squirting, p in v, rough sex, degradation, a sprinkle of praising, overstimulation, unprotected sex (no bueno!)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,502

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: HAPPY KINKTOBER!!!

this is based off one of my blurbs from a while ago😜

your reputation to others is excellent. you’re a nice girl, who is outgoing and will always follow directions or help whoever is in need. goody two shoes is what people mostly describe you as, which isn’t that far off. however, when you’re with your significant other, your bratty side slips up.

“let me go!” you tell chris like you’re a toddler, stomping your feet while he leads you to his bedroom. “i’m being serious!”

opening the door, he lets go of your wrist to have you lead inside, yelping when his palm smacks your ass to usher you more quickly before bending you over the edge of his computer desk. pouting your lips, you hear his heavy breathing as he forcibly pulls up your skirt. you know what’s coming. your punishment.

your eyes start to well up, feeling the slightest bit bad that you acted like a brat in front of his friends, but you’re one of all things. “o-one.” you say between a sob when your boyfriend’s hand slaps your ass for the first time out of many to come tonight. you start spewing out apologies, wiggling in his grip that’s pinned your hands behind your back. “i’m sorry, okay?” you admit, his hand spanking you once more. “i didn’t mean to!”

“if you didn’t mean to you wouldn’t have done it in the first place.” chris snarls back, followed by another smack. “keep counting,” he says through gritted teeth.

SPANK.

your cries echo throughout the room as he continues to punish your reddening bottom. each slap lands with accuracy, leaving its mark on your tender skin. your tears fall on your cheeks now, mixing with the stinging sensation. “seven... eight... nine!" you wail, your voice hoarse from yelling. your body shakes with each impact, trying to squirm away another time. again, no use.

his palm connects again, the force jolting you. the pain courses to your core, pussy throbbing in response with a mix of mercy and arousal. “ten! i swear i won’t do it again!” you plea, desperate for at least some sympathy. alas, chris remains careless, his anger still fresh.

he acts like he didn’t even hear your lame apology, his focus only on disciplining you for your actions. raising his hand high, he prepares himself for another smack against your now-colored rear. “eleven.” he says under his breath, starting to count for you. the sound of skin meeting skin chimes, along with your pained whimper. he pauses for a moment, letting you take a breath to let your punishment sink in — and there’s no way out of it. then, without warning, his hand comes down again, striking your already sore ass with a vicious hit.

“twelve.” chris states clearly, his tone lacking mercy. he continues this harsh pattern, each spank followed by a number. “thirteen... fourteen... fifteen...” the more he counts, the more you sob.

“sixteen… seventeen!” you take back your job, shouting after each brutal strike. your body trembles, feeling like every nerve is in pain. the heat from your bruised cheeks radiate down to your thighs and the folds of your pussy. despite being punished, you feel thrilling and excited all in one. “eighteen... nineteen... twenty!” you choke out, your voice barely audible over your heavy breathing. the tears keep streaming, skin shining from sweat.

by the time his hand falls for the twentieth time, your bottom is a crimson mess. the sting lingers, knowing it’ll be that way for days. yet, you’ve never been so turned on.

chris finally stops after the last spank, admiring his work. your ass is a beautiful shade of red, the perfect blend of pain and pleasure. he can see the arousal glistening between your thighs, a clear visual of what this has been doing for you.

with a firm grip, he grabs your hair and pulls your head back, forcing you to look at him. his eyes stare into yours, filled with a mixture of anger and desire. “what a fucking brat.” he sneers, his other hand roughly groping your numbing ass cheek. he releases your hair, pushing himself off of you with so much force you fall to the ground, landing with a thud. from the impact, your butt stings even more.

curling into a ball, you wrap your arms in front of your legs and cry softly. “i-i’m sorry, chris.” you whine, voice shaking. the humiliation of being bent over and spanked like a naughty child, combined with the intense physical sensations, leaves you feeling vulnerable and exposed.

despite the pain, you can't ignore the ache between your legs. your cunt throbs with a need that it’s confusing. you’ve never felt this way before, and it scares you.

chris watches you on the floor, a smirk playing on his lips. he knows exactly what's going through your mind. “get up.” he snaps, standing tall and towering over you. “and get on the bed; on your knees. now.” he waits, expecting a protest, but he doesn’t receive one. that means it’s working.

once you're in position, he comes over, his cock already half hard. “if you're going to act like a brat, you'll learn how to get treated like one, too.” chris explains, running a hand through your hair. he unbuckles his jeans so they fall freely onto the floor, dick springing out right in front of you while gripping your hair and pushing his tip against your lips. “open up.”

trembling, you part your lips, allowing chris to guide his thick cock past them. the taste of pre-cum fills your mouth as he thrusts deeper, hitting the back of your throat. “mmph.” you gag slightly around his length, eyes glossy. you don’t pull away, of course. instead, you relax your jaw to accommodate him.

he sets a steady pace, fucking your face with elongated strokes. each snap of the hips sends vibrations through your head, making your nose pressed against his pelvis. your hands grasp at the sheets below, wanting to hold onto something since he’s in full domination. you’re uncomfortable, but your pussy continues to clench with need, juices dripping down your thighs. without thinking, you start humping the blanket to try and get friction on your clit like a bitch in heat.

groaning in satisfaction as he uses your mouth for his pleasure, he can feel your throat tighten around him, fighting to breathe around his girth. “that’s it, take it all.” he grunts, holding your head in place as he ruts in and out of your stretched lips. “this is what brats like you deserve.”

taking his free hand, he reaches down to cup your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. the sight of you, tear-streaked and submissive, only makes him want more. noticing your desperate humping, he chuckles deeply. “look at you, getting off like a pretty little thing. you do enjoy this, don't you?”

you moan muffled around chris’ cock as he continues to use your mouth, driving you wild. “mmph! mmph!” you manage to respond, nodding frantically at his question. your hips buck harder against the bed, chasing the friction your clit needs. your pussy clenches tightly, a clear substance gushing out to soak the bedding beneath you.

seeing you drench the sheets, he grins, knowing he's pushed you to ultimate submission. he speeds up his thrusts, fucking your face with more power. “yeah.” he grunts, watching you fall apart beneath him. “you filthy slut. show me how much you love taking this dick like a good little whore.”

his words are degrading, but you enjoy the hell out of it. your mind goes blank, focusing on the feeling of his cock in your mouth and the desperate need pulsing between your thighs. sensing your climax, he pulls out abruptly, leaving you gasping for air and drooling. before you can recover, he flips you over onto your back and yanks your legs apart.

panting heavily, you stare up at chris in a daze, your body still shaking from the intensity of the previous actions. the sudden loss of his dick in your mouth leaves you feeling empty. you. want. more.

the exposing of your dripping cunt has his eyes widen, as if he’s a kid in a candy shop. “jesus, chris.” you whimper, feeling ashamed by how pathetic you seem right now. “please.” you’re desperate, not even sure what you're begging for anymore. release? punishment? his harsh words? all you know is that you’re craving every bit of him.

chris takes in the sight of your exposed, fluttering hole, his horniness shooting straight to his dick. “you want it?” he murmurs, his fingers tracing the swollen slit of your pussy. “you want my cock inside you; stretching out every inch of this needy pussy?”

when you’re about to answer, he lines himself up and plows in deep, burying himself in one stroke. a guttural groan rips from his chest at the tightness gripping him. “holy shit, you were made for this.” chris exhales, each pump of his hips driving him impossibly deeper. “taking my cock like the perfect slut you are.”

a sharp cry tickles your throat as he thrusts into you, the sudden stretch sending waves of pleasure and pain through your core. your nails dig into the sheets as he fucks you, each ruthless thrust hitting that sweet spot inside you and sending stars flying behind your eyelids. “yeah! oh, fuck, yeah!” you shout, your hips bucking fast to meet his brutal rhythm. “making me feel so good!”

the filthy words spill from your lips before it’s too late, fueled by the overwhelming pleasure you’re experiencing. you’ve never felt so full. his cock is hard inside you, pounding repeatedly against your cervix with each stroke.

his eyes flash with possession as he rails into you, living for the way your cunt clenches around him, gripping him deep. his balls slap against your ass with every violent thrust, the lewd sound mixing with your wanton cries. “mhm, scream for me.” he says, angling his hips to hit your g-spot just right. “let everyone hear what a cock sleeve you are for me.”

leaning down to your chest, he takes a nipple and swirls his tongue around it. his other hand snakes between your bodies to rub circles over your clit, wanting to push you over the edge. “cum on my cock, you filthy girl.” chris demands, his voice filled with lust.

each bite to your nipple sends sparks of ecstasy through your veins while his stimulation on your clit has you close to the brink of release. “oh god, oh god! i’m-i’m gonna—” your words turn into incoherent babbling as the waves of your orgasm crash over you. your pussy clamps down viciously on his length, milking him as your body shakes and becomes limp beneath him.

the grip on your clit tightens, prolonging your pleasure as he chases his release. with a final, sharp thrust, he buries himself and cums inside you, filling your spasming cunt with his seed. his cock throbs with each string until he collapses on top of you, his weight pushing you further into the mattress. “fuck, that was amazing.” he pants, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “and it’s all for me.” he whispers in your ear, referring to your body.

after a moment of silence, he pulls out with a wet pop. a trail of cum flows, painting your thighs with its sticky substance. he rolls off of you with a satisfied smile, but bites his lip when he spots his cum on you. “turn around and show me that pretty ass.”

“what—” you’re cut off when he guides you on your hands and knees, in the position he wants you in. his favorite; ass up with your pussy on full display. a shiver runs down your spine. it was silly to think you were getting off the hook that easy.

he shifts behind you, hands grasping your thighs as he aligns himself between your spread legs. one finger traces the marks he left earlier, your hips backing into him unknowingly. “so eager. tell me what you need, slut. beg for it.” he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance, letting you feel his growing erection.

chris waits patiently, your body practically calling his name to be filled again. he can see the desperation in the way you arch your back, presenting yourself even more. “you know what to say.” he points out. “i want to hear those dirty words from your smart mouth.”

he delivers a sharp smack to one cheek, watching the flesh jiggle and flush pink under the force. he massages the sting away, waiting for you to give him what he wants. “please, chris.” you pout, feeling embarrassed about how at this moment you can’t live without his cock. “please, fuck me again, baby. use me however you want.” it seems like you don’t know who you are anymore. hours ago you were tough and mighty, but now you’re small and submissive.

pulling you back against him, he lines up his dick with your soaked sex. “that’s it, princess.” he says, his breath hot against your ear. “swallowing my cock like the good girl i know.”

bullying himself inside of your used hole, your eyes roll back from being filled with him again. just as before, you wrap deliciously around him. he sets a quick pace, the sound of your bodies conjoining bouncing off of the walls. “you’re still so tight.” he hisses.

your mouth falls open in a silent scream as he slams into you, the wideness spreading you open and hitting spots you didn't know existed. it’s almost too much, but you love it. “yes! yes! yes!” you cry out, meeting each of his powerful thrusts. “h-harder.”

the explicit sounds of your guys’ love making fill the air, conjoining with your moans and the slap of skin. you can feel another orgasm building, your walls fluttering wildly around his base. “do-don’t stop. don't ever stop.” you babble incoherently, lost in the trance of ecstasy. “i’m g-gonna—”

feeling your gummy walls squeeze around him, chris is determined to bring you to release. “cum for me.” he insists, brunette strands sticking to his forehead. “come on, give it to me.”

he can feel his own high approaching, his balls tightening as he nears. he holds back, wanting to put you before him. walls spasming, your moans become a higher pitch. “i’m cumming! fuck, i’m—” you don’t finish your sentence when the familiar ring of white moves down his shaft. chris fills you up one more time shortly after, ropes of cum shooting into your womb.

exhausted is an understatement. you know damn well you’re going to be walking from side to side for days, possibly weeks. “i love you so fucking much.” he breathes from next to you, kissing your shoulder. you hum in response, shutting your eyes. if that didn’t make you learn your lesson, you don’t know what will.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @freshsturns @etershine @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew @deareststurns

[suiana]

(yandere! doctor x gn! patient) (cw: nsfw, yandere stuff, drugging, bribery, dubcon?)

your doctor is a little weird, you think.

he's a nice guy, yeah. does his work well, always smiling and constantly reassuring you that nothing's wrong with you. sending you off with a nice pat on the back as he emails you your prescription yet again.

but he's nowhere near professional.

his hands linger on your body far longer than what would be considered appropriate. eyes dark and unreadable as you tell him about your lovely significant other that's waiting for you outside of his office. how he'd try and talk bout his own life in an attempt to get you to stay in his office more...

if anything, he acts more like a possessive boyfriend than your doctor.

though you suppose he's just a little eccentric like that. he's a reputable doctor. everyone loves him, and so do you! he's treated you numerous times and his checkups are always so thorough. surely you can just let his... odd behaviour slide.

today you're coming in for a body checkup. lately you've been feeling dizzy and warm despite it being the middle of winter. you wonder if it's because you've gotten ill or someone's poisioning you. after all, there's been some weird holes in your arm whenever you wake up lately.

your excellent doctor has scheduled you in at 4.30 in the afternoon. he was busy earlier today, he says. you understand, he's a busy doctor. your spouse hasn't ended their shift yet so you came in alone. they haven't been answering your texts since they left home earlier today. you can only hope that they've been busy, you'll ask them when they come home.

entering his office, you are met with his polite smile and his melodious voice.

"please sit."

you obey, sitting down in the seat in front of him as you fiddle with your fingers. your doctor looks rather... distracted today. his usually tidy hair is a mess, his glasses wet as though they had just been cleaned.

"it seems that you are feeling warm and under the weather. do you have any other symptoms, my dear?"

"yes... i've been feeling rather..."

you pause, not knowing how to say it.

"aroused?"

you nod. your doctor seems to know you so well.

he hums, going back to his screen before putting on a pair of medical gloves and gesturing for you to lay down on the bed nearby. you oblige. hopefully he'll figure out what's going on with your body.

he starts off normally, prodding and pressing against certain areas of your body. you answer accordingly when he asks you whether they hurt, whether you feel weird or not. it's like any other medical examination.

"so how's your lover been?"

small talk. you realize he's always been a big fan of small talk. asking about your life, humming and smiling as he replies with answers about his own life too. sometimes he says something personal about your life, like how you go shopping on saturdays with your lover or how you sleep with the lights off. you wonder how he knows, is he stalking you? but you shake your head at the thought. you must've told him and forgot.

"they've been... fine. haven't texted me back yet unfortunately."

"mn, i see."

silence washes over the two of you as he continues prodding and touching you. his touches linger, soft and almost as though he was yearning to touch you even more. his tone of voice was nonchalant, like he didn't care.

you feel slightly uncomfortable.

"um..."

"hm?"

"i-i... i guess i'm worried about them. ever since they went out to work in the morning they haven't replied..."

"i am aware."

you remain quiet after that, pursing your lips as you ignore the way his touches have you growing progressively more turned on. you figure it must be a side effect of your condition.

"my dear, can you tell me what you feel what i touch you here?"

"huh? w- h-hey..."

you let out a soft moan as his gloved hands caress your clothed thighs. calm down, he says. it's just a part of the examination. you shudder slightly, squeezing your eyes shut. you feel the warmth in you grow as he continues to gently caress your thighs.

he's right, it's just a medical examination. he wouldn't touch you like that. plus, you have a significant other already. you shouldn't be feeling like this because of his touches. it's wrong.

you exhale shakily, fluttering your eyes open as you stare at him.

"i-it feels nice..? it makes the warmth worse, doc."

"i see... what about over here?"

you let out a gasp, eyes widening so wide you were sure they'd pop out of your skull. where... were his hands touching? surely you're dreaming?

but you weren't. when you looked down, you could clearly see his hands on your nether regions, gently groping and caressing the area.

"w-what are you-"

"i am merely testing to see which parts of your body react to my touch. please do not worry, my dear. this is all medical procedure."

"but it's my-"

"shh... i know. does it feel good? what do you feel?"

you shiver under his touch, whimpering softly as you try sitting up. were you overthinking it? he's just your doctor. this is part of the examination, it's fine.

yet you feel as though his touches have a deeper and more sinister meaning behind them.

"please don't-"

"why not? i've seen your significant other touch you like this multiple times. you've always reacted wonderfully under their touch."

"h-huh?"

your doctor pauses, eyes widening slightly before he lets out a chuckle. his hands continue palming and caressing your privates, almost as though he was... toying with you. with every touch you feel yourself getting more and more worked up, cheeks flushing even more.

"oh dear, i haven't told you have i? i've been keeping a close eye on you... i thought you'd have figured it out by now. your lover certainly has."

you squeeze your eyes shut as his touch, your mind growing fuzzy. what.. did he say? you can't quite understand... all you can feel is how bothered you're getting and how you want him to touch you even more.

"i am pleasantly surprised with how well you are reacting to my touch. i never expected you to react so positively to the drug."

"d-drug? ah... no... don't grope me like that..."

he continues palming at your clothed privates, a calm smile on his face. you can faintly make out the way his cheeks were turning red and the hardening of his pants.

"right, i did tell them not to tell you... my dear, your significant other has left you."

"no... what are you... talking about doc? hah... how would you know anyway..?"

"oh, because i told them to. i gave them some money a few months back and they've been working for me up until... today."

if you were a little more sober, you would've pushed him away and ran for your phone. unfortunately, the aphrodisiac you had been injected with last night has reduced you into a needy thing desperate for his touch.

"what did you do-"

"well my dear, didn't you notice the injection marks in your arm? your significant other had been administering you with tiny dosages of this particular drug i've given them. it's supposed to make you feel good."

"g-good..?"

you hear your doctor chuckle, his hands moving away from your sensitive parts. only to quickly undo the buckle of your pants and slip his hand down on your newly exposed skin.

your breath hitches, hips instictively bucking against his hand as you let out a low whine. you can't think anymore. your brain is so muddled with feeling good that you aren't even worried or disgusted by what he's saying. all you want is him, him, him. he makes you feel good.

"yes my love, good. aren't you feeling good right now?"

"mn mhm!"

you nod your head eagerly as his hands gently toy with your sex, rubbing and fondling you gently. he continues smiling down at you, pleasuring you with his fingers before pulling away. you whimper, face hot and red as you desperately try and pull him back. why would he do that? he was just making you feel so good...

"haha, you want me to continue touching you?"

you nod again. your doctor grins widely at your words, taking off his gloves before you hear the clink of his belt hit the floor.

"well, i suppose i'll get on with my second part of the medical examination now then."

[bbyobbyo]

seventeen as dads headcanons

content: reader is married to svt, normative(?) family structure, literally just unhinged thoughts, not proofread lol

note: was trying to write an actual fic but then got distracted sorry, dadventeen brainrot is so real

Seungcheol

Super protective “don’t touch my family” dad outwardly

All of his kids’ friends are straight up SCARED of him

But within the household he's the one sneaking ice cream when you say no, albeit guiltily

Shopping trips with him will always result in buying something for them and he is very willing to be taken advantage of

“Babe if I can’t spoil them now, they’re gonna grow up and move out before we know it!”

Tries his best to be handy around the house, but probably makes it worse, ends up calling Mingyu to come fix it

Jeonghan

DEFINITELY a “go ask your mom” dad

This man not only powerless, he doesn't even want the power, he's just here to have a good time and if you say they can't, then sorry kiddo

You can’t tell me that he doesn’t bring up becoming a family prank channel at least once a week

LOVES bragging to everyone else about his kid’s achievements, cannot shut up about them to anyone in a 5 foot radius tbh

His kids definitely talk to him about everything, which is great because he is SO nosy.

Has a list of all their best friends, enemies, and crushes at school somewhere on his notes app for future reference when they come to him for advice

Joshua

The REAL practical joke dad, admittedly made them cry a few times when they were younger and felt really bad about it

Perfect sweet husband and father in image, all of his kids know he’s actually lame af

Dominates the summer barbeques, UNDISPUTED GRILLMASTER

Super dependable, will drop everything if his family needs him and never goes back on his word

Gives surprisingly good fashion advice

Jun

Definitely walks around the neighborhood with his baby in a sling carrier strapped to his front, POINTS AT EVERYTHING OF INTEREST

When they start learning how to speak he adopts all his baby’s weird mannerisms (it started off as a cute joke but then realized he couldn’t stop)

Cries at every baby milestone until they’re like 10

Will not stop bringing up embarrassing childhood moments, especially in front of their kids’ friends/significant others

Cuts fruit for them instead of apologizing

Hoshi

Will fully ally himself with his kids

Like legit would do anything for them. ANYTHING.

I’m talking borderline go to his kid's school to beat up their hypothetical bullies himself sort of dad

The kids can always count on him to say yes if you say no

Absolutely DEVASTATED when they grow out of the tiger stuff he buys for them and become angsty teens

“What do you mean tigers aren’t cool? Do you not love your old man anymore?”

Wonwoo

Quiet doting dad

Definitely more affectionate when the kids are younger but gets into the awkward advice-giving stage when they grow up

LAME DAD JOKES GALORE, groaning is a regular activity in this household

Tries to google basic algebra every time his kids ask for help on math homework because he doesn’t want to admit he forgot everything

Chaotic af unsupervised. “Guess we’re having pizza again tonight kiddos” kinda dad because he cannot and should not cook

Jihoon

Another quiet dad, but make it savage

I feel like he would just love roasting his kids (affectionately of course)

And always overwhelmingly acts of service so his kids know they are loved

Allowance randomly appearing under their pillow, their favorite foods magically stocked in the fridge, always relenting to one last bedtime story no matter how tired he is

Would let you have final say but he makes it really clear he’s on their side and empathizes with them but its out of his hands

“Next time just don’t get caught, okay?” *winks*

Minghao

Loves loves loves just spending time with his babies

Doesn’t matter what he’s doing he just wants to be in the same room as them or cuddling and holding them

Emphasizes equality in your relationship so his kids can grow up with those values and learn to respect others

TURNS EVERYTHING INTO A LIFE LESSON OH MY GOD

Doesn’t believe in allowances but will cave and literally buy them anything they want if they ask

Would rather die than miss any important event (competition, speech, recital, talent show, graduation, etc.)

Mingyu

Absolute super dad, what can’t he do? Nonstop home improvement projects, cooks anything his kids are craving, offers to drive everyone everywhere

But also the whiniest dad ever lol constantly complains about people “ruining his system”

Absolutely FUCKS at the school bake sales, earns them twice the target fundraiser amounts because he's dilf material and knows how to get the moms to spill their pockets

Likes to have the final say, but you’re both usually on the same page in regards to discipline so his kids aren’t getting away with anything

Just the most supportive dad in the universe, the kids learn to never take him for granted

Seokmin

You already know his kids are gonna be spoiled rotten. He will be the favorite parent by default sorry I don't make the rules!!

His arms are the very definition of a safe space

Leaves all the discipline to you because he cannot keep a straight face when delivering a lecture (one time he made them cry and also ended up crying because he felt so bad)

Does so much embarrassing shit just to cheer his kids up when they have a bad day, acts surprised when they tell him he's cringe

Such a pushover that they are probably gonna make fun of him when they're older, but that's okay because they know there's no universe in which their dad will stop loving them

Seungkwan

As long as he can pick them up still, his kids are never on the ground for too long

Two words: SPORTS. DAD.

He could practically captain the cheerleading teams at their school with how many events he's been to

Knows all of his kids’ friends parents, they all get together and have coffee once a month actually

Nags nonstop and complains about everything he has to do for them, but is always diligent and does it without question

Gets so pouty when they start getting embarrassed to show affection, he WILL get his cheek kisses if it's the last thing he does!!

Vernon

Chillest dad in existence?!?

Literally as long as his kids are safe he doesn't give a single fuuuuckkk

“Sleepover? Yeah, call me when you're done and I'll pick you up.”

He WILL argue with you if he doesn't think there's a good reason to say no to them

So cute and encouraging to all their weird hobbies and phases throughout the years. “Lemme see” and “Really? Show me” are regular phrases in his vocabulary

His kids are definitely gonna inherit his legendary facial expressions afnngjdg

Chan

Super affectionate and doting, but also quite strict with them at times

“I just want the best for you, I want to see you succeed”

HAS A PHOTO OF THEM READY AT ANY TIME, lockscreen is a different shot of his kids every day and is eager to show it off even if no one asked

Not so subtly signs his kid up for dance lessons

Just the most encouraging dad ever, makes sure that they know making mistakes are a part of life and that he will always love them no matter what

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon needing to hold you after a bad day.

The tiny apartment was completely silent as Simon unlocked the door and stepped inside, head hung low and shoulders tense. Lights were turned down, tv was off; you were most likely already asleep by now. It was late, much later than he had told you he’d be back, but he had been struggling with the weight of his thoughts again today and had barely made it in. He would have let you know that he was going to be late… it was just…he couldn’t find the will to even shoot you a quick text.

It wasn’t like him to be concerned about who knew where he was or what he was doing, choosing to distance himself from everything and everyone that could potentially catch a glimpse of him cracking behind the mask, but right now all he wanted was to get back to the place he called home before he fell apart and the world would swallow him whole.

As quietly as he could he set his things down beside the door and continued on through the flat, catching little bits of you everywhere: your shoes lying scattered by the wall, the blanket you’d just been curled up in tossed haphazardly in a bundle on the sofa, a mug on the coffee table that had the remnants of your drink stuck to the inside. Scattered bits of you everywhere across his life as little reminders of what he had that waited for him here and for the first time all day it felt a little easier to breathe to know his angel was close by.

Passing near the kitchen, Simon spotted a piece of paper with his name scribbled on the front waiting for him on the countertop, your familiar handwriting obvious to his eye. He picked it up and unfolded it.

Hey baby,

I really tried to stay up, I promise, but you know how work has been kicking my ass lately. I thought maybe I could just take a nap until you got in, but I was worried that if I laid down I wouldn’t wake up, so I thought I’d leave this here for you to find. Didn’t want you to think I forgot about you. Just wake me when you get in, alright? I don’t care what time it is, I want to see you!

Love you.

P.S. I left some dinner in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet. We can reheat it and eat it together. XOXO 

Christ, what did he do to deserve all this?

Always looking out for him, always making sure he had a place back in the real world whenever he came home. He held that piece of paper between his hardened fingers, the note more significant than it should have been after the type of day he had. You were the closest to heaven as he could get, more than he ever thought he would get to have and that’s why it was you he was trying to break down that wall to come to for comfort. 

His sight flicked to the fridge where you said you’d left him something; he was definitely starving, but just the thought of the effort it would take to eat right now was too much and the knot that rested in the pit of his stomach made him too nauseous anyway. There was something that would fill him far better than food could and he knew just where to find it now.

Moving on to the living room, he set himself down heavily on the couch and began to remove his boots and the outer layers of his clothing along with his mask, stripping away all the bits of his life as the stone cold sniper now that he was safe here in his little sanctuary. Stripped bare until he was down to his boxers, Simon gently crept towards the back of the apartment hoping he would make it to the bedroom before this feeling took him. 

Closer and closer he walked towards the other half of his heart.

The door stood slightly ajar to invite him inside and as he stepped up to it, he caught the hushed, rhythmic sounds of your breathing as you slumbered. It sounded so peaceful that he could have stood there in the dimly lit hallway and listen to it all night long. Just a few more steps, barely any distance left, and he would truly be home.

The room was completely dark save for the small crack in the curtains that let in just a bit of light from the streetlamp outside, helping him to find his way through the maze of darkness. As those brown eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Simon turned his attention to the bed and his heart skipped a beat. There you were: the outline of your body silhouetted under the covers, your head buried in your pillow, all cares left behind as you slept.

No sound did he make as he crept to the edge of the bed and lifted the sheets so that he could climb inside and up against your body laying in the center. One strong arm slipped up under your pillowed head while the other wrapped around your waist until you were encircled and he pulled you slowly so that your back rested up against his chest. His body molded into yours still warm from being wrapped up tight.

You stirred awake gently at the feeling of that familiar large body suddenly laying beside you. “Hey you,” you whispered sleepily, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered as they worked to open. “Tried to wait up, but I got so tired I had to go lay down. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.”

Only silence greeted you as a response. No chuckle at your predictability, no picking remarks about how you couldn’t even stay up to see him, just the sound of labored breaths in and out as he lay there in the darkness curled up against you.

Silence only meant one thing and you knew it well.

“You okay baby?” you asked, but again there was no answer. Only the squeeze of his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter to his chest gave you any sort of reply as Simon’s nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes brushing over your skin.

It was clear just from the silence that he was far from okay, that he must have been bottling this up for God knows how many hours so that the world would not see that he was not always the tough, put together soldier he was supposed to be. But he could not hide it from you...he didn't want to hide it from you.

You heard him inhale deeply, trying to capture as much of your scent as he could until it filled his head: your natural musk mixed with the smell of the sheets and added hints of shampoo and body wash. That comforting scent that belonged to only you that he couldn't ever get enough of, the one that helped to relax his troubled mind. Instantly the tension he had been carrying like a boulder upon his shoulders all day finally released him from its stranglehold. 

Gentle, exploring hands tentatively went up under your baggy shirt, one of his old worn ones you loved to wear to bed to keep him close even when he wasn’t there, as he just wanted to make contact with all that delicately soft skin. He traced over curved paths he knew by touch alone: it was soft, it was familiar, it was safe and his heartbeat slowed as the ache in his chest dissipated enough that he could finally talk.

“Bad day,” he whispered finally, warm breath against your shoulder. "Really fuckin' bad day... again."

You rolled over in his arms until you came face to face with those sad auburn eyes, moved by the shame in his tone. It broke your heart that each time he had one of these days he felt such guilt about it, as if he simply should have been over it all by now, as if he wasn't human, but you were not about to let him overthink the struggle. There was nothing to be shameful about.

“I’m sorry baby. These things just happen, you know, but its alright; we'll get through it together, ” you said quietly, fingertips gently running over the line of his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and further to his jaw in soothing circles.

Together.

Simon closed his eyes and eased into your hand as you traced patterns across his temple and through the cropped sides of his hair, letting the vile, churning thoughts rummaging around in his brain to fall away. No one else could ever see him like this save for you, no one else's touch he craved more than anything to bring him back into himself after the day had brought him down so low. 

He brought his hand up and placed the tough palm over top of yours to hold it firmly against his cheek as if to make sure that all of this was real, that you were not simply a mirage cast by his broken mind. 

“You’re home now, baby,” you reassured him as he took deep breaths in and out with his eyes closed, only wanting to feel you. “It’s gonna be okay, I got you.”

Home, still such a strange word for him.

Wherever you were that was home. Not a place, but a person, one who made certain that no matter how far he drifted she would always pull him back in. Simon had never had such a tether before, but fuck did he need it. He could feel it like medicine running through his blood, when you held him he could feel the chemicals rush to soothe the gaping wound in his heart.

Pulling your hand off his cheek, he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the surface before leaning in to give one to your gentle lips. You embraced him back with such tenderness as if to remind him of that promise you had made to each other that neither of you would have to traverse the hell of this world alone.

“Home,” he repeated the tender word in his gravely tone, letting the emotionless second mask fall away. "I hope ya know... that you are my home, sweetheart."

You smiled. "You're mine too, Simon."

He took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "Bein' near ya is the only fuckin' thing that seems to help quiet the shit in my 'ead these days."

Pulling him back in, you gave him another kiss. "Then get nice and close," you said softly as you squirmed up under him more, setting his arm back over you.

Securing his arms around you again he moved over top of you so that his head rested against the middle of your chest, ear pressed in against your sternum to listen to your heartbeat rhythmically thump inside. With his hand still inside your shirt he drew his fingertips along your bare hips, not wanting anything more than your company tonight. 

Your calming fingers ran through his short hair and over his scalp as he counted the beats of your heart until he melted into your body. Discussion could happen later if and when he was ready, for now this was all he needed. However long he wanted to cling to your torso, you’d let him.

You were his life raft, pulling him back in and no matter how far he drifted and it was because of you that for the first time in his life he didn’t feel like he was going to get lost.  

[heavyhitterheaux]

Daughter (Slight NSFW)

They keep sayin' that I ain't nothin' like my father

But I'm the furthest thing from choir boys and altars

If you cross me, I'm just like my father

I am colder than Titanic water

Synopsis: You and Joe's relationship is fairly new, and you are taken by surprise when a pregnancy test comes up positive. However, your boyfriend's reaction was the opposite of what you expected. Especially when he has just signed his five year contract extension which is now the highest in the NFL

Pairing: Boyfriend!Joe Burrow x Girlfriend!Reader

Requested by: a beautiful anon 😘

Do not engage if you are underage

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Soft kisses being placed across your shoulder blade had pulled you out of a deep sleep and you noticed that the sun was barely making itself known as you wrapped the comforter tighter around you to keep in all of the warmth that you possibly could.

You shut your eyes once more, but then you suddenly heard his voice.

“Baby doll, you awake?” You heard your boyfriend ask you as you felt his fingertips now dancing across your skin.

You opened your eyes and once again had to adjust to the light before answering him.

“I am now.” You quietly said as you heard him laugh.

“Good, turn around so I can see your pretty face.”

Moving your body from facing one side to the other, Joe's face came into view who gave you a sleepy grin when he finally laid his eyes on you.

“A sight I never get tired of waking up to.” As soon as those words left his mouth, you gave him the biggest eye roll possible which made him erupt with laughter once more.

“Joey, I look like a hot ass mess. It's okay though so there's no need to lie to me. We are building this relationship on a foundation of trust.”

“I'm not lying. My girlfriend is gorgeous all the time.”

“Hmm, funny. My hair is literally sticking up all over my head because I once again forgot to pack my bonnet, I have bags under my eyes from not getting enough sleep, and…”

Joe simply cut you off by placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“You need to learn how to just take compliments and stop trying to defend them.” He told you and your response was a simple shrug.

“Maybe one day, but today is not that day. So as I was saying..” You began to speak, but Joe promptly cut you off.

“Wouldn't tell you that you're the prettiest girl I ever laid eyes on if it wasn't true.” He told you and you couldn't help but to finally give him a small smile.

“Is that a smile that I see?” He asked as you then scrunched your nose up at him.

“Hmph, not anymore.”

“I never thought I would meet my match when it comes to someone who acts more like Squidward than I do.”

“Patrick is my favorite though.”

“That's surprising for sure seeing as it doesn't seem that you would have a lot of patience to deal with him.” He said as he pulled you closer to him.

“I make exceptions sometimes. For example, I said yes to going out on a date with you.”

“BABY!”

“Just kidding, babe!” You told him as you pinched his cheek and he promptly rolled his eyes at you.

“And it didn't have to do with me being the hottest quarterback in the NFL?” He asked while smirking.

“No, you know that I could care less about that and what your job is. It just happens to be a plus and a perk of dating you.” You told him being completely honest.

It was quiet for a few seconds as the two of you stared at each other when you finally broke it.

“Are you excited for training camp?”

“Yes and no. Yes because I'm excited to get back out there of course and no because I'm not going to be able to spend as much time with you.”

The relationship was fairly new being months old and Joe wanted to spend as much time as possible with you before football took over once more. You were always excited for football season, but even more so now that you had a significant other that played in the NFL.

“Joey, it's your job so I understand. I'm so proud of you and want you to be focused so that you are able to do your absolute best. I'll still be here cheering you on. I promise.” You told him as you brushed a hand through his hair and kissed the tip of his nose.

“I can't wait to be able to look up in my suite at the stadium and see you in there.”

“I can't either. I haven't been to a Bengals game in a while.”

“Even though your dad is a season ticket holder?”

Your dad had been a season ticket holder since before you were born seeing as your grandfather passed it to him. Being a single father to you wasn’t easy in the slightest but the love of football was something that the two of you bonded over.

“Yes, even that. Ever since I became a chef and opened my restaurant, it's been a lot harder. I just have to find more people that I can trust to keep it up and running so that I'm able to come and see you play. That way I'll be able to give you my undivided attention and not have any worries lingering in the back of my mind.”

“You act as if Kendall can’t do it. She could literally run the restaurant blindfolded.” Joe responded as he was referring to your best friend that you had met in culinary school.

The two of you had met when Joe, Tee, Sam, and Ja'Marr wanted to try a new upscale restaurant in the middle of downtown Cincinnati during the beginning of the off season. It was near closing time when Ja'Marr had asked to meet the head chef; the head chef being you to give his compliments personally. Your eyes as well as Joe's had locked that night and the two of you had been infatuated with each other since. It honestly felt like a lifetime ago and not a few months.

“I know she can and I have to give her more credit. On the other hand, I've definitely been spoiled with it being the off-season and being able to spend as much time with you as I want with you also coming to see me at work.” You told him as he smiled.

As soon as you two had met, Joe would be at the restaurant a few times a week and eventually asked for your number one night. Of course you had told him yes and he found himself coming to visit if he wasn’t doing anything else. He always had a specific table that he sat at and would let you know when he was coming to see you so that they could reserve it for him. It was on the second level that looked out over the balcony.

“What time are you going in today?” He asked as he noticed that it was barely seven in the morning.

“I probably should have already left since it'll take me a little longer to get there.” You said as you made an attempt to get up, but Joe quickly pulled you back.

Your condo was closer to the restaurant and staying with Joe added close to another 25 minutes.

“Joeyyyy!”

“Can I have you for at least another hour or so? The restaurant doesn't even open until 4.”

“But I have to prep!”

“Babe, please?” He asked as he started to give you puppy dog eyes.

“No! Don’t you dare give me that look!” You scolded him and at the same time he laid you on your back as he climbed on top of you.

“Please?” He asked again as he gave you a light kiss on your lips and started placing a trail of kisses down your already bare body from the activities from the night before.

His fingers lightly brushed your folds and your hips bucked in response making a light chuckle escape from his lips.

“You sure you don't want to stay? Your body is telling me otherwise.” He asked as he inserted two fingers and slowly began moving them in and out of you.

“Baby…”

“Hmm, one round or two? Knowing you, you're going to tell me one and then change your mind when you remember how good I make you feel.”

Joe didn’t wait for you to answer him as he settled himself in between your legs and added his tongue to pleasure you without his fingers leaving your body.

In order to keep your legs spread and to also keep you from running from, he removed his fingers from you to keep a tight hold on both of your legs as his mouth continued to pleasure you.

“Shiiit, oh my gosh.” Was the only sentence that you could form as both of your hands found a way into his hair.

Joe was the first boyfriend that you ever had that actually took the time to pleasure you and always made sure you had multiple orgasms before he even had one. He had always told you that his favorite thing was to eat you out because of the way you taste. If it was honestly left up to him, he would stay between your legs for hours.

“Keep still, baby.” Joe told you as he then began to suck on your clit.

“How am I supposed to keep still when you do that!?” You exclaimed as he was still holding you in place. The vibration from his laugh was felt as he sucked harder.

“I'm… Oh FUCK!” You yelled and before you were able to get your entire sentence out, you squirted all over Joe's face as he continued sucking on your clit no matter how hard you tried to move away from him.

“Nope, where do you think you’re going?” He asked as he continued to eat you out.

“Give me at least one more and I'll think about letting you move.”

“You are such an ass!” You told him while playfully hitting his shoulder.

“Hmm, is that what you tell your boyfriend as he's eating you out and making you feel good?”

“Yes! Because he won’t let my legs go!”

“Hmm, so you can fall off this high ass bed? I think not. Come on baby doll, one more. My pretty baby can give me one more.”

Keeping him talking gave you a little bit of a break, but that soon went back out the window as he dove back in and gave you his undivided attention once more.

You were starting to squirm and tears were threatening to leave your eyes as another orgasm washed over you. Joe finally stopped to come up for air, but before he did he lightly placed kisses on both of your thighs before climbing back up your body and leaning down to kiss you.

“I knew you could do it. Such a good girl.”

“And you’re still an ass for that.”

“I’ll be that because later on in the day once you leave here and you’re thinking about me because I know it's going to happen. You'll think about me being between your thighs and then the first thing you’re going to do is tell me how wet that made you and how much you want me to make you cum over and over and over again.” He told you as he whispered against your lips before kissing them.

“Am I wrong?” He asked and you shook your head no as another smirk came across his face.

“But for now, I can settle for this.” He told you as he lined up with your entrance and then suddenly stopped.

“Babe?”

“I forgot to go to the store so I don’t have any more condoms. Shit, I forgot about that. But if you’re okay with it?” He asked, searching your eyes for approval.

“I’m okay with it. Gives me a chance to feel all of you.” You answered without skipping a beat.

“You sure you’re ready for that?” He asked while smirking.

“If I wasn’t sure then I wouldn’t have said yes to begin with.”

Nodding in approval, Joe slowly entered you until he bottomed out and you both moaned at the sensation. Feeling every bit of him was going to put you over the edge and the last thing on your mind was the fact that you would learn to regret it later.

—

Training camp was now coming to a close and pre-season games were due to start as you and Joe were on facetime. He had sent you a text earlier in the day saying that he had something he wanted to tell you later on when he got back home. The anticipation had been building all day and you were growing annoyed with him still keeping you in suspense.

“Babe, out with it already.” You told him as you were laying down with multiple pillows propped up underneath you. You hadn’t felt well for the past week and a half and simply blamed it on the stomach bug that you knew that had been going around. You had left Kendall in charge of everything while you stayed home to rest with her periodically checking on you.

“So, the final negotiation went well for my contract.” He started to say and you instantly smiled.

“Oh, that’s right because your rookie contract is over. I forgot that you had to do that this year. Do you feel that you’re happy with the decision that they came up with?” You asked as you took a sip of ginger ale.

“Definitely happy with the decision. Once it’s signed, It’ll be the biggest contract for a quarterback as well as in the history of the NFL.”

“Oh my gosh, that’s so exciting and you definitely deserve it. I see all the hard work that you’ve been putting in and it is definitely paying off. I’m not feeling all that great, but I promise to make you a celebratory dinner so that we can celebrate properly. I am literally so proud of you!”

“Thank you baby doll. Means a lot coming from you.”

“Always going to be here to support you as long as you want me.” You told him as he smiled.

“I want you for the long run, you already know this and besides you’re the celebrity in my eyes anyway. Who would have thought a celebrity chef would go out with little old me who just happens to be a quarterback in the NFL in his spare time?” He asked as you softly laughed. Any intense movement would instantly make your stomach hurt or make you want to throw up.

“You are too much sometimes and so incredibly dramatic.” You told him as you playfully rolled your eyes.

“You’ve literally known this since day one and it hasn’t been a problem so why start now?” He asked as you saw him prop up his phone and move around in the kitchen.

“I feel so bad that I can’t make you anything tonight.” You sadly said as Joe brushed you off, but a look of concern immediately spread across his face.

“Do you still not feel well? Babe, it’s been almost two weeks.”

“I know and I have a doctor’s appointment at the end of the week on Friday. Hopefully they’ll be able to tell me what’s going on because I am so miserable right now.

“Just let me know what they say. I’m going to actually sign the contract that day. So later that night, we can celebrate.”

“Yes, that’ll be the perfect day to make dinner for you. Do you have any special requests?” You curiously asked and Joe answered you without a second thought.

“Hmm, yeah. I’ll just have you for my dinner and my dessert.”

“Joeyyy, I meant actual food. You cannot just eat me out and think that is sufficient enough for you to survive.”

“Says who?” He asked as he took a drink out of the water bottle that he just opened.

“I have no idea what I’m going to do with you.” You told him as you were smiling at him.

“But on a serious note, do you need me to bring you anything? You definitely don’t look like your normal self.”

“I promise that I’m okay. I just have to ride it out and wait for it to pass, no big deal.”

“The minute something changes, you call me. Promise?”

“I promise. The last thing I want is for you to come around me and end up getting sick yourself. Stay away until I give you the all clear on Friday.”

“As hard as I know that will be, I have no choice so I guess I’ll listen to you. The last thing I need is to get sick right before the season starts.”

“Exactly. Have to keep you as healthy as possible.” You told him as you glanced at the clock in your room to see that it was around eight at night.

“I’m going to try and get some sleep since I literally have been puking my guts out every morning for a week and a half straight.” You told Joe who gave you a sympathetic look.

“Go ahead and go to sleep. Just leave your phone on facetime.”

“So you can be a creep and watch me sleep, Burrow?”

“I literally always watch you sleep when you stay with me so this is no different. You just aren’t next to me. I always do it to make sure you’re okay.”

“You are too sweet. One of the many things I love about you.”

“Hmm, so I’m melting that cold ass ice box of a heart you have? Is Y/N showing FEELINGS?!” He playfully teased you as you shook your head.

Joe knew from the beginning how independent you were and that you didn’t need a man to depend on for anything. You can give your father credit for raising you that way. You could fix things around the house, change a tire, change the oil in your car and that wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. If there was something you wanted or needed, you would stop at nothing in order to make it happen. Even though you were infatuated with Joe ever since you laid eyes on him, you let him know upfront. One thing that Joe admired about you was your will to be independent. Although, he did want to spoil you from time to time.

“You’re slowly melting it, I think you’ve made it about 25%.”

“Only 25%?!?! Seriously?! You have got to give me more credit than that.”

“Hmm, maybe 35% because of how good you eat me out.”

“WHAT? That by itself should equal 1000%!” Joe exclaimed and you had gotten comfortable under the covers.

“Well you are melting it, so just be happy about that. You're the first one to do it in a very long time.”

“I am now close your eyes and go to sleep.”

“You promise to stay on the phone and make sure I’m okay?” You asked and a small smile spread across his face before nodding at you.

“I promise.”

Friday had finally come around and you were now on your way to Joe’s house to celebrate him signing his new contract. However, there was something now hanging over your head. You were uneasy because of the news that you had to share with him and honestly couldn’t believe it yourself.

You stayed in the parking lot at the doctor's office for an extra 45 minutes before you even thought about moving your car.

It wasn’t a simple stomach bug that you had been dealing with for two weeks, it was an entire human being growing inside of you and them trying to make you aware of their presence. The signs had all been there and it wasn’t until your doctor wanted you to do a pregnancy test that the dots were finally starting to connect.

Your period was late and it had never been late in your entire life

Your boobs were sore

Just about everything made you nauseous and being a chef hadn't been working out for you for these past two weeks

You would throw up every morning like clockwork and then be fine for the rest of the day

The looks of shock and disbelief hadn’t left your face since you had departed from your doctor’s appointment and your mind was racing a mile a minute. The relationship between you and Joe had barely gotten off of the ground and the last thing that you wanted to add to that was an entire child that you had no idea if he would even want.

But you had to be honest with him.

For the short time that you had known him, Joe was an amazing person that you saw being in your life for the long run and he was one person that you wouldn’t mind fathering your kids because you knew that he cared about your well-being so you could imagine that he would care about theirs too.

You figured that you had to tell him when you got there because if something was off, he immediately knew and could read you like a book. The hardest thing at the current moment was for you not to break down crying.

Joe asked for you to make a simple dish that you made all the time, chicken and broccoli alfredo. Except for him, you would substitute regular noodles for protein pasta so that he would meet his goal for the day. You had started to feel a little bit better yesterday so you had gone to the store and dropped the ingredients off at Joe’s house so you didn’t have to worry about bringing them with you after your doctor’s appointment.

Parking your car next to Joe’s Porsche, you placed your purse on your shoulder before getting out and making your way to the front door. Pulling out your key that he had given you, you opened it and quickly turned the knob before making your way inside.

Stepping across the threshold, it was quiet except for the television that you could hear in the living room and to no surprise it was playing Spongebob which you had to laugh at. That was one of the first things that you and Joe had bonded over.

As you walked further into the house and made your way into the living room, your boyfriend caught your eye as he was asleep on the couch and you assumed that he had been waiting for you. He looked peaceful and the last thing you wanted to do was disturb him so instead you placed a kiss on his forehead before setting your purse down and making your way into the kitchen to start on the dinner that he requested.

Not wanting to work in silence, you put one of your air pods in your ear and turned on your Kendrick Lamar playlist as you started to move around the kitchen. The decision to only put one in was to be able to hear Joe when he started to stir.

About twenty minutes later, dinner was already halfway done when you heard footsteps entering the kitchen. You turned around from the stove to be met with the sight of your sleepy boyfriend rubbing his eyes as he made his way over to you to place you in a hug and placed several kisses on both of your cheeks.

“Hi, sleepy head. About time you woke up.”

“How long have you been here?” He asked as he kissed you once more.

“Probably thirty minutes give or take. Luckily you chose something that was quick and easy. We probably have about fifteen more minutes. I just have to pour the sauce on the pasta and put the garlic bread in the oven.”

Joe nodded as he left his arms wrapped around you and you quickly squeezed him tighter, hoping that by the end of the night it wouldn’t be the last time that you got to do so.

“How did your appointment go?” He asked as he finally let you go so you could finish cooking.

“Um, not what I expected.” You quietly said as you had now turned around to face the stove leaving you facing away from him.

“Baby, is everything okay? You saying that has me worried.” Joe replied as he turned you around once more to face him.

“I… I just don’t know how you’re going to take this.”

“Take what? Are you sick? Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together, just tell me.” Joe told you as he held onto both of your hands.

Taking a deep breath, you blurted it out.

“It wasn’t a stomach bug like I thought, I’m pregnant.”

As soon as those words left your mouth, Joe’s hands immediately detached from yours.

“What do you mean you’re pregnant?”

“When you have sex multiple times without a condom, these things tend to happen.” You said trying to make light of the situation, but Joe did not look amused in the slightest.

It was quiet for a few minutes and it was you who had to break the silence.

“Joey?” You said and he sighed before pinching the bridge of his nose and responding to you.

“So, was this your plan all along? To trap me?” Joe asked you and the expression that appeared on your face was unreadable to him.

It took everything in you to not cuss him out right then and there.

“Hmm funny. You're the one who didn't bother to wear a condom the last few times we had sex. And I know that you cannot be serious.” Was your response as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“What's also funny is that you said you were okay with it. I obviously wouldn't have done it if you weren't. So it just so happens I signed the biggest contract for a quarterback in NFL history and suddenly my girlfriend of four months is now pregnant? And I am being fucking serious.”

“Are you calling me a gold digger? Because that's what it sounds like.”

“You said it, not me.” He told you as he held his hands up in defense.

“What do I need your money for when I have my own? You act like I don’t even have a career. Did you forget that I own my own restaurant?”

“You obviously don't have nearly as much as I do.”

“You are literally unbelievable right now. You're acting as if this is entirely my fault when it was both of us.” You exclaimed and he continued to look at you with a straight face.

“I'm at the height of my career and the last thing I need is a kid with someone I barely even know.”

Your heart dropped hearing how he talked about you, but especially that last statement and did your best to keep a straight face when in reality hearing something like that would probably make tears fall from your eyes.

The thought that he would be surprised, but also supportive of you had now gone out of the window.

“Well it's a good thing that this relationship is no more isn't it? So you won't have to worry about it anymore.” You said to Joe as you made your way to the living room and took the key to his house off of your keychain and handed it to him while you threw your purse over your shoulder.

He watched as you walked away from him and started to open the front door when you turned back to look at him.

“Remember everything that you said to me because I know it's going to come back to haunt you and you'll end up regretting it. And by the type of person I am, you know that I do not forgive easily or at all.”

“I highly doubt that.”

Hearing his reply, you had to laugh to yourself because at this point in time you knew that he would come crawling back to you sooner or later. His conscience would eat away at him and he would start to feel guilty. Even if you had only known him for a matter of months, deep down he was a good person that always tried to do right by others although he wasn’t displaying that now towards you.

“Just remember I told you so. I never needed you before and I sure as hell won't need you in the future. The difference was that I wanted you simply for you and not your money. Good luck finding someone who valued you as much as I did.”

Slamming the door behind you, once you got into your car and put on your seatbelt, you picked up your phone that you had thrown on the passenger seat and proceeded to block Joe's number.

If he didn't want to be in your child's life, the last thing you were about to do was beg. You made it up in your mind that the two of you were going to be fine with or without him.

The regret of it all was going to hit him like a ton of bricks.

—

A month and a half had gone by and you put all of your focus and energy into the restaurant and spent time reading pregnancy books that were highly recommended especially for first time mothers.

Reading what was currently going on in your body had you scared shitless, but you were determined to make it through this one step at a time. Only person that you could depend on now was yourself.

After blocking Joe’s number, you had also blocked him on all of your social media accounts wanting absolutely nothing to do with him. You went as far as also blocking Ja’Marr, Tee, Sam, and Andrei who would frequently come with him to your restaurant wanting no ties to anyone associated with him.

Plenty of people at the restaurant asked where Joe was, but you couldn't bring yourself to tell them that you had unfortunately broken up, especially one of your favorite hostesses Blanca. She had been obsessed with you and Joe and thought that the two of you looked good together.

I mean from your perspective, the two of you definitely weren't together anymore although when you had originally said it, Joe didn't even bother to react. Because you hadn't told them anything, they always kept his table open unless you told them otherwise. One of these days you were going to get around to banning him completely even if that did seem a little extreme. But on the other hand, he had hurt you and that particular reason was enough.

It was getting harder to hide the bump that was now as obvious as it gets and getting a larger size in a chef uniform every single time your belly grew was getting annoying. So you opted to actually wear sweatshirts as long as it wasn't too hot in the kitchen. If it did get hot, you made sure to have an extra large shirt underneath which left people a little confused but attributed it to simply being your comfort level.

The morning sickness was at an all time high today even though you were well past the time frame of still having it. You made a note in the back of your mind to say something at your next doctor’s appointment. Because of this, the ultimate decision was made for you to stay home, but promised your dad nonetheless that you would make dinner for him since he had gotten a promotion at his job. You wanted to celebrate him properly since you knew how hard he had worked for it.

The food was almost done as you heard the doorbell ring and smiled to yourself because you were excited to be able to finally catch up with your dad. Once you wiped your hands on your apron and walked to the front door to open it, you were caught off guard with your dad placing you in a bone crushing hug with you tightly hugging him back. You knew you had to tell him before the night was over. Once again you were wearing a baggy shirt that hid how big your belly had actually gotten.

“Daddy!” You exclaimed as your eyes met his.

“Hey, pumpkin!”

Once he placed you back on the ground, you moved to the side in order for him to be able to get through the front door. Once you did he followed you into the kitchen and took a seat at the island.

“So, when are you moving into your corner office?” You asked as you poured a glass of red wine and placed it in front of him. It was your favorite brand and it was hard for you to not also pour a glass for yourself.

“On Monday but I already moved a few things over. It's amazing how much you can accumulate over the years.” Your dad answered, but you lowkey knew that he was a hoarder. But being a single dad, you couldn't blame him. Everything little thing counted.

“I am literally so proud of you but it sounds like you could stand to do a little deep cleaning.” Every time you went over to his house, you made it a mission to throw something away without him noticing. So far you had been successful, doing it since you had turned eighteen.

“I never know when I might need something from my stash so I have to be prepared. I told you that hard work pays off but you're definitely no stranger to that. How's the restaurant doing?” He asked as he took a sip.

“Really good. I'm working on debuting our updated Fall menu in the next week or so. The main one already came out.”

“Please tell me you're bringing back the cinnamon apple spice rolls.”

“Of course I am since I know that they're your favorite.”

It took a minute, but your dad caught onto you not drinking any wine and he knew that particular brand that you had given him was your favorite making him look at you in confusion.

“You're not going to get a glass for yourself? Oh, how's Joe by the way? I feel like it's been a minute since you mentioned him. Let me know which Sunday you're free so we can go to a game together.”

“No wine for me tonight and I actually wouldn't know how he's doing because we aren't together anymore.”

“What? Since when? I thought you really liked him. And that's saying something because you hardly like anyone.”

Taking a deep sigh, you turned back to your dad and he could tell by the expression on your face that something was wrong.

“I'm pregnant and Joe wants nothing to do with the baby. After I told him we got into an argument about it, I left his house and immediately blocked him.”

Your father looked at you in disbelief before any words left his mouth.

“What? How could…?”

“He thought it was really interesting how I turned up pregnant when he had just signed his new contract. We got into an argument, he called me a gold digger and I left. Blocked his number as soon as I slammed the door behind me. Gave him back his house key too.”

“Pumpkin…”

“Dad, no. I'm doing this by myself and we're going to be fine.” You told him since you knew the first thing he was going to do was worry himself over it.

“I didn't want this for you. Single parent life. I was hoping that you would get married to someone who loved you for you before you had children.”

“It didn't quite work out that way, but like I said it'll be fine.”

“I need to talk to him so he can get some sense knocked into him. You mean to tell me he had no problem not wearing a condom, but runs for the hills the second you come up pregnant? Really?” You knew your dad was going to protect you at all costs and knew that you had to keep him as far away from Joe as possible.

“No you don't. I don't need him and my baby doesn't need him either. He made his choice and he has to be the one to deal with it.”

“Whatever decision you make, I'm going to support you 100%.”

“Thanks, dad. I appreciate you saying that.” You told him as you set his plate in front of him.

“It's been us against the world since you were born so this isn’t any different. That baby will grow up in a household full of love and won't even notice that someone is missing from their life because they aren't going to want for anything.”

Your mom had literally snuck out of the hospital without being discharged hours after you were born leaving you in a bassinet in her designated hospital room where she was supposed to be recovering. She had left while your dad had stepped out to get her some food since she didn't like the food that they served in the hospital.

No one had seen her since.

Over the years you noticed that your dad wouldn't really talk about her so the most that you knew was her name. There was never a desire to find her since you had it in your mind that she didn't want anything to do with you and those feelings are reciprocated right back towards her.

When your dad had gotten back to the hospital, everyone was frantic and she had never given any inkling that she didn't want to keep you so he was just as confused as everyone else. From that moment forward, your dad made it up in his mind to give you the best life possible and to keep her away from you.

“You taught me not to depend on a man for anything. Or anyone else for that matter.”

“Pumpkin, this situation is a little different…”

“No, it isn't. If he doesn't want to take care of his responsibilities then so be it.”

Hearing your dad sigh as he stabbed his fork into his mashed potatoes, he nodded his head at you.

“So, have we decided on any names yet?”

“Not yet, but I have a very strong feeling that the baby is a girl.”

—

It was a dreary day in Cincinnati when practice had come to a close for the Bengals and Joe was walking back towards the locker room in order to get ready for his presser when Ja’Marr stopped him and pulled him to the side.

“Bro, what is wrong with you? And don’t you dare stand up here and lie to me. I know when something is off with my best friend.”

Ja’Marr had noticed despite Joe’s efforts to remain his nonchalant self, something was eating away at him. He noticed in the pre-season and just assumed he was trying to get back in the groove of things, but as time went on he felt that something was off and wasn’t getting better.

“Nothing is wrong.”

“Bullshit and I’m about to call your mom if you keep lying. I’m due for a bowl of snickers salad anyway.”

Taking a deep sigh, Joe threw his helmet down on the ground before responding which left Ja’Marr a little confused.

“Uh?”

“Y/N is pregnant.”

“Oh! Congratulations. Is that why you’re so damn stressed? I mean I get it. When my girlfriend told me she was pregnant, I think I went into shock for a few days.” He told him as he picked up his helmet for him and he tried to continue walking before Joe pulled him back.

“That’s not all.”

“Oh…”

“She told me this about two months ago when she had been feeling sick for about two weeks and I told her to make a doctor’s appointment. It just so happened to be on the day that I signed my new contract when she told me about her being pregnant. In not so many words, I dismissed her and dismissed the thought of her being pregnant seeing as we had only been together for four months at the time.”

“But, you apologized though, right? I’m trying to go to her restaurant on Sunday after we win. Been a while since I’ve seen her. I get that you were caught off guard by it but I mean the way that you were talking, yall were fucking morning, noon, and night. So, are you surprised?”

“Didn’t apologize, instead I accused her of being a gold digger and she broke up with me and for good reason. I said some not so nice things to her when she obviously came to me scared shitless.”

“Damn, okay. We can fix this. Just have to apologize to her and…”

“Knowing how she is, she is not going to let me anywhere near her or the baby because of how I reacted. Like, she is a person who protects herself and her well-being, as soon as she feels something is off, she cuts you out of her life without a second thought. Her boyfriends have called her cold hearted in the past, but fail to mention how they failed her as boyfriends eventually making her the way she is.”

“Okay, back up for a second. Do you want to be in this baby’s life or not? Because the Joe I know would.”

“I do now that I sat down and thought about everything that went down. I feel so bad about how I talked to her, but when I tried to call her like a day later, I found out she blocked me. But also went as far as blocking me on every social media page she has. I literally cannot find a trace of her and it’s like she doesn’t even exist.”

“Uh? She has an entire restaurant that you can go to? And a house? Go there and talk to her.”

“For her to kick me out? I can imagine that she’s told her best friend Kendall by now as well as her dad who I know probably wants to kill me. He’s a season ticket holder so I know that it’s only a matter of time before he shows up to a game and beats my face in.”

“Okay let me see real quick.” Ja’Marr said as they had finally made it back into the locker room. He went and unlocked his phone and noticed that you had done the same thing as you had done to Joe.

“Shit…”

“What?”

“She blocked me too. I was going to see if I could convince her to talk to you, but now that plan has gone out the window.” He said to Joe as he scratched the top of his head.

“I just need to make this right somehow, someway.”

“Like I said, go to the restaurant and talk to her. The worst thing that she could possibly do is say she doesn’t want to talk to you. If she does, we’ll figure out next steps from there so you can be in this baby’s life. I got your back, bro despite how fucking stupid you reacted to this entire situation. She didn’t get pregnant by herself. We’re going to fix this. Y/N cares about you too much.”

“I think the ship of her wanting anything to do with me sailed away a long time ago.”

After his presser and the day had finally come to a close, Joe got into his car and was on his way home until he started to go in the other direction. He figured that his parents would also be able to help him through this.

To Athens it was.

Majority of the drive was done in silence in order for him to be able to think about what his next steps would be regarding you and the baby. He definitely didn’t want to be seen as a deadbeat father. He wanted a chance for his child to grow up with both parents even though they probably won’t be under the same roof. Walking away would weigh so heavily on his conscience and he knew for a fact that he couldn’t go about his daily life not knowing if you as well as his child was okay.

By the time he reached his parents house, it was around 6 in the evening and saw that both of their cars were in the driveway which he was happy about. That way he wouldn’t have to re[eat the entire story to both of them separately.

Once he reached the front door and opened it, he walked in to see both of his parents sitting in the living room and they looked up at him surprised.

“Didn't think we’d be seeing you until Sunday.” His dad said as he got up to greet him, while Robin was busy analyzing him. She could tell that something was off.

“You would not drive all the way here unless something is wrong so start talking.” She told him after she hugged him.

“Hmm, you didn't waste any time. Who said something had to be wrong?”

“Because we know our child like the back of our hand.” Jim responded as Robin nodded.

“Can I at least eat something first before I get interrogated?” Joe asked and a small smirk appeared on Robin's face.

“We can do it at the same time and lucky for you, the food should be done.” She said to him as she made her way into the kitchen with Joe and Jim walking behind her.

Once everyone was settled at the table, a thought concerning you popped into Robin's head and she made it a point to ask about you.

“How’s Y/N? You haven't mentioned her lately. When are we going to meet her? I was hoping she would be there on Sunday.”

That was when Joe put his fork down on the table.

“I… We broke up at least I think we did and it's entirely my fault and I don't think she's going to forgive me.”

“I'm sure you two can talk it out. You're adults and from the way you talk about her we know she's important to you.” Jim told him and Robin quickly agreed.

It was quiet for a few seconds before Joe laid everything out in one breath.

“She told me she was pregnant the day I signed my contract and I accused her of being a gold digger and we got into an argument and she definitely said that I would regret the way that I had talked to her so here we are.” Joe muttered and both of his parents looked at him in disbelief.

“Joseph….”

“I know how bad it sounds and I was an asshole to her.”

“When's the last time you talked to her?”

“That was it and I haven't talked to her since. She's blocked me on everything and I don't know what to do. When I say how everything went down out loud, I feel bad all over again.”

Jim and Robin sat in silence as they had a conversation with one another only with their eyes.

“We raised you better than this.”

“I know.”

“If you had your suspicions about it, a DNA test could have been performed when they were born. Calling her a gold digger wasn't needed.”

“I know, I already feel bad enough. But I highly doubt that she is going to forgive me.”

“Well from the way you talked to her, do you think that you deserve forgiveness?” Jim responded as Joe took a deep breath and sighed.

“Probably not if I'm being honest.” He quietly said.

“I don't know what you need to do but you better make this right so I can see my future grand baby.” Robin told him as she still had a look of disbelief on her face and pointed her fork in his direction.

—

After the game on Sunday as well as the press conference, Joe was once again sitting in his car and debating if he should go to the restaurant and talk to you. Since it was a night game that was played, he knew that the restaurant wouldn’t close until 2 am and the closer it got to closing time, the less busy you would be.

His mother had been asking him every day since he confessed what he did if he had talked to you and knew for a fact that she was growing extremely annoyed with him since the answer was always no.

By the time he had reached the restaurant, it was approaching one in the morning. He parked and made his way inside only to be greeted by his favorite hostess Blanca. What caught him off guard was her giving him death glares. Blanca had only overheard what he had done from overhearing Kendall and you talking, but it was enough for her to start to not like him.

“Blanca.”

“We’re closed, Burrow.”

“Uh? You don’t close for another hour….” He trailed off and he looked down at his watch in confusion making sure that he had the time right.

“What do you want?” She asked him as she took out a nail file and began to work on her left hand.

“To see Y/N, I need to talk to her.”

“Funny seeing you here now seeing as you haven’t been around for about two months. Word on the street is that the two of you broke up and it was your fault and seeing as Y/N employs me and cannot do any wrong in my eyes, whatever I heard that you did, you definitely did it.” She quietly said as she held up her hand to examine it.

“Blanca…. I really need to talk to her and I’m not explaining myself to you. It’s between me and her, not me, her, and you.” Joe explained, but all she did was roll her eyes.

“Seeing as you have to get past me in order to get to your table, that she should have removed your name from by the way, what’s in it for me? Y/N is an amazing person and you hurt her.”

“And I’m trying to make this right and I’m going to need you to move in order for me to be able to do that.” He told her as he pulled out two crisp 100 dollar bills and she analyzed them for a second.

“Don’t act like you don’t want it. This is what’s in it for you if you let me see her.” He said as he made a move to grab it, but he quickly moved his hand until she agreed.

“Y/N is going to kill me, but fine. Come on.” She told him as she led him to his table.

Once he reached the balcony, it was a clear crisp night where you could see all of the stars in the sky. It was just the right temperature which he was thankful for because the last thing he wanted to happen was for other people to overhear their conversation if he had been forced to stay inside. When he sat down at the table, Blanca made a motion for Joe to give her the money and she quickly snatched it out of his hand.

“I’m always loyal to Y/N, but I can be bribed once in a while. Did you want to order something? I can send a waitress over?”

“No, that’s okay. I just want to see Y/N.”

“Wait until you see her belly. Anyway, there aren’t a lot of guests at the moment so she should be able to step away. I’ll go and get her for you.” She said as she attempted to give him a weak smile making note of how defeated he looked by the entire situation.

As soon as you walked out onto the balcony, the last person that you ever expected to see was sitting at the table that was the furthest from the doorway and tried to turn around to go back into the restaurant, but he saw you and quickly ran over to you and grabbed your hand which you quickly snatched away from him.

“Wait, Y/N. I just want to talk. Just… please.”

“I’m busy.”

“But the restaurant is about to close, I figured that this would be the best time for me to come and try to talk to you.”

“Remind me when this conversation is over to ban you from my restaurant. Actually let's just include everyone who works for the Cincinnati Bengals organization past and present.”

“I… deserve that.” He told you as he glanced down at your protruding belly. Blanca wasn’t lying.

“That isn't even the tip of the iceberg of what you deserve.”

“Look you blocked me on literally everything and you not only blocked me but my friends too so this was the only way I knew I would be able to talk to you.”

“But why? Why do you want to talk to me? I'm a gold digger who was only with you for your money, remember?”

“I said some not so nice things to you and I need to apologize for them.”

“I don't want your fucking apology. I heard you loud and clear the first time and you obviously meant what you said so stand by it.”

“Y/N, please. I want to make this right so I can raise this child with you. I was an asshole and I knew the risks of you possibly getting pregnant, but I didn’t care which was not right at all. Just meet me halfway here.”

“Didn't I tell you that you were going to regret how you spoke to me? And then you said that you highly doubted it?”

“Yes and I ended up regretting it just like you said. And I told my parents about you.”

“For what? So they can harass me too? Tell me that I trapped their son? Because you know the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“No! They're the ones who encouraged me to try to talk to you right along with Ja’Marr. They want to meet you. My mom actually lowkey threatened me if I’m being honest.”

“I don't think you actually realize how bad you hurt me. It has been years since I was that vulnerable with someone and you just let me know that you didn't care about me at all in a matter of five minutes when I originally told you.”

“I do care about you!”

“Really? Because I recall you saying something about having a baby by someone you hardly even knew. Acting as if I was a complete stranger to you and the four months that we actually did spend together didn’t matter.”

“Okay, Y/N, I'm trying to move forward but how can we do that if all you're doing is reminding me of what I said? I know I fucked up, but I'm trying to make this right.” Joe said as he was trying to keep his voice down seeing as the entrance door to the inside of the restaurant was still open.

“Or is this because you think I'll expose you to the media and say that you're a deadbeat dad? Beloved Bengals quarterback Joe Burrow is amazing on the field and always takes the opportunity to talk to his fans. However, ignores the child that he made with his ex-girlfriend off the field.” You questioned him as you glanced down at your watch to see what time it was.

“It seems like I can't win with you no matter what I try to say or do.”

“Keep in mind that we're having this conversation because of something you did. I was simply going to let you keep living your life and not bother you. I wasn’t even going to bother you for child support. But now, look who came crawling back just like I said he would?”

You were throwing punches left and right towards Joe, making his head spin. He knew before coming here that it probably wasn’t going to be the smoothest conversation, but he did not expect anything like this.

“Can we please just call a truce? I don't want to fight with you and I can imagine that it isn't good for the baby either. I will do absolutely anything that you need me to do to be able to support you through the rest of this pregnancy. You have my word on that. Have you found out if it's a boy or a girl?” He asked and you sighed as you rolled your eyes knowing that he was right.

Being stubborn and hard headed would only be able to get you so far in life. Deep down, you didn’t want to have to do this alone, but since that was the situation you were presented with, you were simply going to grin and bear it.

I was quiet for a little while until you moved to sit down at Joe's table with him sitting across from you not wanting to push his luck.

“No, Kendall is the only one that knows. And I guess you’re right about calling a truce.” You told him as you finally gave in because this conversation was going absolutely nowhere.

“I really am sorry about what I said and how I acted towards you.”

“It happened and we can’t do anything about it now. I also hope you know that I still stand by this relationship being over. Just because I forgave one thing you did doesn't mean that things can go back to being the way they were.”

“I get it and I have to respect your decision.”

“Maybe in the future, but not now.” You quietly said while Joe nodded.

Since your back was facing the doorway, Joe looked up and noticed your best friend Kendall who was a chef as well peeking her head out to look at both of you. He assumed that Blanca had told her that he was here and sent her up to be a mediator if need be.

“You two good up here?” She asked as she made her way to the table. She also sent a death glare to Joe, but that quickly went out the window once she heard your voice.

“We’re fine, no need to worry.”

“I actually had a surprise for you and now because Joe is here, it’ll make it that much better. Let me go get it.”

“What in the world are you up to?” You asked her as she shook her head indicating that she wasn’t telling you and made her way back inside of the restaurant.

Once she returned, there was a white cake with pink and blue sprinkles being held by her and she placed it down in the middle of the table between both of you.

“Kendall, what’s this? My birthday is not for another two months and you know that?” You asked and she smiled back at you.

“Well, I knew you wanted something kind of lowkey for a gender reveal and my plan was to do it after we had closed the restaurant for the night. Since you literally text me everyday to tell you what the gender is even though after you send it, you quickly backtrack and say that you don’t want to know anymore. So, the cake will let you know if it’s a boy or a girl when you cut into it.” She explained as she handed you the knife.

“I don’t know if I want to know yet!” You exclaimed and Kendall immediately shook her head.

“No, absolutely not. We are not doing this for the remainder of your pregnancy. Cut it and cut it now. You are not going to be bothering me every day about this. Besides, baby daddy wants to know, don’t you Joe?”

“Um, yeah.” He quietly answered but also not trying to cause any more tension.

You rolled your eyes as you placed the knife onto the cake and gently pushed down. Once you separated the slice from the remainder of the cake, both your eyes went wide along with Joe’s as all three of you were now staring at a pink cake.

“I’ll finally be able to be the mother that someone deserves.”

One year later

You opened the door to your daughter’s room and peeked into her crib to see her wide awake and looking at you.

“Good morning, Amora. Are you excited to see daddy play in the first home game of the season? We get to sit up in the big suite with grandma and both of our grandpas and you have the cutest outfit that he bought you to wear for today.” You asked as you picked her up and cradled her to your chest.

All you got was a series of spit bubbles and a smile in response.

“I’m going to take that as a yes seeing as soon as I said daddy I got a smile.” You told her as you tickled her small belly now making a laugh escape.

You were caught off guard as you felt arms wrap around you from behind and Joe leaned to the side to be able to kiss your cheek.

“Good morning baby doll.” He told you as he held out his hands to take Amora from you.

“I didn’t even hear you come in. How long have you been awake?” You asked and he shrugged.

“Not long, maybe fifteen minutes.” He replied and you nodded as you went to get her outfit out of her dresser and begin to pack her diaper bag.

“And good morning my princess.” He told her as he kissed both of her cheeks.

“You get prettier every day just like your mom.”

“Stop trying to butter me up, Burrow.” You told him while laughing and getting more diapers from the bottom drawer of her changing table.

“Not buttering you up, just telling the truth. I mean look how gorgeous this kid is. We should make another one.” He replied as he began to play with her.

Hearing this, you stopped what you were doing and looked at him in disbelief as Joe smirked.

“She is literally only four months old, slow your roll.” Your body was nowhere near healed from giving birth to Amora and the thought of having another one so soon was the furthest from your mind.

“Nothing wrong with planning for the future.” He replied as he was now holding Amora with one arm and turned your face with his other hand to face him as he leaned down to kiss you.

“Fine, but I have terms and conditions.”

“Name them and it’ll be done.”

“A ring needs to be on my finger before I even consider having another one.” You told him and a smile instantly broke out across his face as he leaned down to kiss you once more.

“Is that it? But, who’s to say that I don’t already have it?”