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missproducergirl · 2 years ago

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beloved - kiro (ml;qc)

pairing: kiro x reader

genre: angst, fluff

summary: kiro remembers master key's words about being surrounded with loved ones and questions who are his loved ones supposed to be.

word count: 3,539

notes: happy birthday to my #1 husband! i am so sad about the lack of kiro fics recently T-T. i pray that the ml;qc tumblr fandom has a recession because i miss those fics dearly. anyways, here is my yearly installment on kiro's birthday! it is a bit rushed but i hope it's at least bearable to read ahah...

As the final piano notes chimed, the crowd split into a shower of adoring cheers. An enchanting smile broke Kiro’s face as the golden-colored confetti slowly rained down on him. Some of it landed in his honey curls, but he didn’t care. His eyes were fiery and his breath was uneven, yet, even in his disheveled appearance, Kiro seemed like a statue sculpted by the gentle hands of an artist.

An angel.

A star.

The audience’s applause died down. There was a moment of silence, and just as Kiro was about to announce his final song, he was overcome with a chill.

“Happy birthday to you…”

A small voice broke out from the mass. It was small and delicate at first, a bit unsteady and clumsy. But soon, more people started merging in on the short celebration.

“Happy birthday to you…”

Kiro’s heart felt as if it was about to burst out of his chest. The sea of golden lights from the audience reflected in his eyes, softening them. It felt as if the universe had gifted him a personal night sky.

“Happy birthday dear Kiro…”

Their voices were merged into a mighty unison. Like a powerful river sweeping up everything in its way, they swept up Kiro’s heart in their current. It took everything in him not to burst out into tears.

“Happy birthday to you…”

Thunderous applause rang out throughout the stadium once again. Except, this time they were not praising Kiro for his melodic voice, his fluent dancing skills, or even his handsome looks. Right now, they were honoring him for simply existing. Because on this day, 21-and-something years ago, a star was born.

“Thank you… Thank you, everyone. Truly and sincerely, thank you.”

Kiro could not find the words that could come close to describing his gratitude. How could he put it into terms that this specific moment was the sole purpose of his existence? How could he express the prolonged and dreadful nights of his youth, falling asleep completely alone on his bed with no one to remember his birthday? How could he convey the hours in class, daydreaming about being on stage exactly like in this moment? How could he explain the unnerving feeling that after his life would end… the only ones mourning his death would be the tranquil feathers in the lake and the stars that left behind a trail of tears as they fell from the heavens in grieving memory of him. Yet now, his fears were drowned out by the people who idolized him. Each proclamation of their love washed away the suspicions of his heart bit by bit.

Oh, how he wished he could have gone back in time and told himself that all of his struggles would finally pay off. That all of the torture and the disappearances and the disarray and the heartache would paint this moment in unspeakable magnificence.

There was only so much Kiro could say to reciprocate their overwhelming love. To make up for it, in his heart, Kiro renewed the promise that he made to himself all those years ago. He will push himself to new limits—pour his heart into every song and implement a piece of his soul into every performance to make sure they knew that he felt the same way about them.

With those overwhelmingly inspiring emotions, Kiro finished his concert.

His agent was the first one to greet him as soon as he stepped backstage.

“Kiro, happy birthday! You didn’t think I would forget, did you? Here… I got you a little something,” Savin shoved a little brown paper bag into Kiro’s hands.

Kiro couldn’t help but peek inside. It was a mini orange cake with a big purple flower on the top. It was quite cute.

“My oh my, Savin. Since when are you the one to appeal to my sweet tooth?”

“Don’t get too happy just yet. This is the only time I will allow this. You may eat anything you want today—but don’t eat too much. You must remember that you still have one more concert to perform at.”

“Yeah, yeah, Savin… I know…”

Savin’s serious face finally broke into a smile as he ruffled Kiro’s hair, “Happy birthday, Kiro. You’re a good kid… really. I am very honored to be working with you.”

The rest of the crew finally caught up with Savin and gathered around Kiro, congratulating him.

“Wow! You’re 21 years old today! That’s a special age.”

“You’re all grown up now Kiro.”

“You should’ve told us beforehand that it was your birthday, Kiro! We would’ve prepared something for you.”

Kiro’s grin never left his face, “There’s no need… really. Everything I need to be happy is already right here.”

It would kill him to admit it, but in reality, Kiro hadn’t remembered that it was his birthday until the birthday song just a few moments ago. He couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty about this. After all, it was Master Key—his savior—that gave this day to him. It felt almost disrespectful not to honor it. When his personhood had been stripped of him as he was taken to that horrid place in his youth—it was Master Key who had given back the identity that he was robbed of. Of course, he couldn’t tell anyone that. He kept it a secret through most of his life, so how would he be able to speak of it now?

“Alright everyone, settle down,” Savin spoke through the commotion, “Kiro, let’s get you home. You’ve worked so hard today, you deserve some rest.”

“But don’t you guys need my help to clean up?”

“No… I insist. Let’s go back.”

***

Kiro sat in the passenger's seat as the car sped down the road. It was quite late already, and the streets were mostly clear aside from a few lone travelers.

As he looked outside at the passing city lights, Kiro couldn’t help but remember his words from earlier.

“Everything I need to be happy is already right here.”

He couldn’t help but ponder whether he actually believed that statement, or perhaps was simply deceiving himself. On one hand, he was content with the life he was currently leading. But on the other—if he were to imagine a perfect world… Master Key would surely have been right here beside him. And that girl from the orphanage… yeah, it would’ve been nice if she was with him at this special moment too—

“We’re here.”

Savin’s voice snapped Kiro out of his deep thought. He hadn’t even realized that they were already parked outside of his hotel.

“Oh… yeah.”

Kiro dug around in the backseat to find his dance bag. He then clutched at Savin’s gift and was about to leave when—

“Hey. Do you wanna… come in?” Kiro suddenly asked once he realized that his agent did not move an inch, hands still firmly placed on the steering wheel as if he was trying to make a speedy escape.

Savin sighed, “I would love to stay longer, but I have to get back to the venue. I have to make sure that the clean-up goes smoothly.”

“I can wait for you to get back.”

“Then I need to plan out your schedule for next month when you get back to Loveland,” upon seeing Kiro’s sullen face, he quickly added, “I’m sorry. Believe me when I say that I would much rather spend time with you than plan schedules… but I simply can’t. I’ll make it up to you next week when you go on break. Just tell me where you want to go and we’ll do it. Just not tonight… Please… don’t be upset.”

There was an awkward pause between the two of them. A moment that stretched out for too long. When suddenly, Kiro broke out into a laugh.

“Alright, but I’ll remember that. I’ll make sure we go to every bakery in the city. And… you cannot go back on your word.”

Savin sighed, this time with relief, “Of course. Have a good night Kiro. Go to bed early today, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Take care now.”

Savin’s SUV pulled out of the parking lot hurriedly. It sped off into the distance… and Kiro’s smile disappeared along with it.

***

Kiro never noticed it before, but his hotel room seemed overwhelmingly quiet at this moment. He would have simply ridden it off as a dramatic contrast in volume between the calmness of his room and the intensity of the concert… yet he couldn’t help but think that this feeling had nothing to do with volume at all.

Kiro dropped off his bags by the door and then desperately powered on the TV in hopes of getting rid of this uneasy emotion in his chest. This proved to be effective, but only by a mere fraction. Soon, the TV was nothing but a minor buzz in the background, and the silence swallowed him whole again.

He stood there in the middle of everything, the smile that was on his face merely a few minutes ago had disappeared, instead replacing his features with an apathetic look. His eyes—which were once so bright now had their light extinguished, leaving only a pitiable gloom.

No… no, wait…

Kiro shook his head as if to reset his thoughts. He wasn’t going to wallow in self-pity and ruin this joyful day for himself. After all, he was supposed to be optimistic. That is what Master Key would have wanted. That is what everyone wants. And perhaps… that was what he wants as well.

Kiro suddenly remembered the mini cake that Savin had given him. Perhaps that would make him feel a little better. After all, sweets always seemed to lift his mood.

He quickly took it out of the brown paper bag and set it down on the little kitchen island. He didn’t have a candle to light, but that didn’t seem to matter at this moment. Kiro clasped his hands together, and, as if to not disturb this fragile atmosphere, began to hum in a quiet voice.

“Happy birthday to you…”

“Kiro, you must remember this day. I might not be the one who’ll spend every 9th of April with you in the future, but I hope that you will always be in the company of loved ones.”

“Happy birthday to you…”

“Loved ones… Will they be by my side?”

“Happy birthday dear Kiro…”

“Of course. Because Kiro is the most awesome and the cutest kid in the world.”

“Happy birthday to—”

Kiro suddenly paused as he remembered this dialogue he had with Master Key all those years ago.

Loved ones…? Who… were his loved ones? Before, Kiro had thought that the whole world were his loved ones. But if he were to believe what Master Key had said, his loved ones were the people who celebrated his birthdays with him.

It was at this moment that it dawned on Kiro that he was completely alone in the small hotel room.

His hands slightly trembled and his vision blurred with tears.

No… this can’t be it. Had the moments of bliss just a few hours ago been nothing but an illusion? Why had he felt that when he was up on stage, all of the things that troubled him simply faded away? But now that he was in his room, far away from the lights and the confetti and the persona of Kiro, he was brought back to face with the things that he thought he would never have to confront again. Where were all of his adoring fans? All of the people who supported him? Everyone that loved and idolized him?

Where were his loved ones?

They sure weren’t here now.

When the spotlight faded, they all went back to their lives, their homes, their families. Only Kiro had no one to return to but an empty hotel room.

No… this can’t be it!

Disregarding the cake on the table, Kiro shot up from his seat and grabbed the first coat that he could find in his suitcase. He then jolted out the door and within a few moments, he was running down the barren sidewalk. For the first time, Kiro was thankful for the intense exercises that he was forced to put up with every day. He was sure that he had enough stamina to make it to the stadium without stopping. Luckily, it wasn’t that far from his hotel either.

Kiro had managed to put on his coat on the way here, but as soon as he stepped through the entrance to the stadium, he felt hot again.

A few coworkers had thrown him bewildered gazes.

“Kiro? What are you doing here back here? Didn’t Savin drop you off at the hotel?”

Kiro hadn’t heard the person who spoke to him, instead he continued running as if his life depended on it.

Finally, he made it up to the stage. Face flushed red, he doubled over and tried to catch his breath again.

The radiant lights had been turned off for a long time already, and the audience had been replaced with nothing but empty seats, but this would have to do for now. After all, it was lucky that they hadn’t started dismantling the stage.

When he could finally stand straight again, Kiro took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and tried to imagine the rows of seats filled with people again. The way their cheers stirred ripples in his heart. The way they shouted his name in awe. The way the world was his and his alone when he stood here.

But no matter how long Kiro stood on that bare stage, or how hard he tried to concentrate, that feeling of satisfaction never came.

With a heavy heart and a single sigh, Kiro laid down. When he opened his eyes again, the empty audience stared back at him, as still and eerie as a graveyard. It felt as if the silence was purposefully mocking him—picking at his insecurities, throwing salt into the wound.

He turned away and closed his eyes once again, embracing the familiar darkness.

The answers that once made sense to him dissolved as soon as the crowd left the stadium. Once Kiro decided to dig deeper into the foundation that his morals and pride were built upon, he realized that it was as stable as sand and as firm as glass—shattered and scattered about with the first gust of wind.

Suddenly, there was no purpose for his existence again. No one was there to tuck him into bed and kiss his forehead and wish him a happy birthday. He was falling asleep completely alone. He was back to daydreaming about being up on stage. And after his life ended… once again, the only ones who were left to mourn him were the water, the feathers, and the gloomy night sky.

How would he be able to face his younger self and tell him that nothing had changed from then? That the moments of torture and disappearances and disarray and heartache equated to nothing?

That the thing that he spent his entire life chasing turned out not to be what he had craved?

Everyone loved Kiro, but no one loved subject 1562.

Just a few minutes ago, Kiro would not have been able to explain the heavy loneliness that seized up his heart from time to time. It just didn’t make sense to him how the whole world could love him, yet he still felt so alone. But now he knew the reason. Perhaps it was because everyone loved only half of him. The radiant half. The one that glowed like the sun. But light cannot exist without darkness. So who would love 1562? The shy, quiet boy that had been abandoned far too many times. The one that didn’t glow quite as bright, but was just as important. No one will ever truly love him because no one will truly understand him or the things that he’s been through. The people who loved him only loved him temporarily and superficially. Even his agent—the one that had been with him all these years, through thick and thin, didn’t really know him. No one knew him except…

Except for his mentor and the girl. The only two people who were able to love and accept him just the way he was. With all of his imperfections and all of his flaws. But Master Key had been missing for years now. And the girl… he hadn’t seen her since the orphanage. He wasn’t even sure that she was still alive, much less her whereabouts.

No one could truly love him but those two people.

And if he couldn’t find them? What would happen to him then? Would he spend all of his birthdays alone?

No…

Like a singular star in the expansive galaxy, Kiro felt entirely isolated and so difficult to reach. If only a brave astronaut could travel the distance and pick him out from the vast skies.

Was it too much to ask for? Was he being too selfish?

Kiro’s hands balled into tight fists as he whispered a silent prayer into the night.

‘I don’t have a cake or a candle to light… but please… the one who makes birthday wishes come true… please let me find them…’

***

“Kiro… are you in there? Can I come in?” You called out through the thick wooden door of Kiro’s dressing room.

There were some rustling noises before he called out in a raspy voice, “Come in!”

Without a second thought, you swung open the door, and with the biggest grin you could muster, you exclaimed, “Happy birthday, Ki—”

You paused. Kiro was nowhere in sight.

You looked around the room in confusion when you finally spotted him draped over the brown leather couch, blue eyes wide with shock. As the realization set, you quickly covered your mouth with your hands, as if to take back your sudden proclamation.

“Oh gosh. I am so sorry… were you sleeping?”

“Miss Chips… what are you doing here?”

You gestured around vaguely, “Umm… surprise? I was supposed to wait back for you at the hotel room but I just couldn’t wait to see you.”

Kiro had been away on tour for a whole month already. Your desire to see him could not be contained any longer, so you decided on scrapping your earlier plan of greeting him at his hotel. Instead, you dragged all of your suitcases to the venue he was performing at to see him as soon as you landed.

Kiro blinked. He looked like a lost puppy. It seemed as if many thoughts were running through his mind at this moment.

Finding his behavior cute, you crouched down to him and kissed the top of his head, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have shouted so loudly earlier… You look really tired.”

“I missed you too.”

Kiro took your hand and gently brought it to his lips. Then he intertwined your fingers together as if to make sure that you weren’t going to leave.

Upon seeing your reddened face, Kiro’s lips curved into that familiar charming smile, “You’re so lovely, you know that? You didn’t even leave your suitcases before seeing me. It makes me so happy knowing that you missed me as much as I missed you.”

“Of course, I missed you Kiro! And, it’s almost midnight. I had to wish you a happy birthday,” you suddenly frowned, “don’t tell me that you’ve forgotten about your birthday again.”

“How could I? I’m turning 23 today,” there was a short pause before Kiro began to speak again, “It’s true what they say, yeah? Time really flies, doesn’t it?”

“...You sound like an old man.”

You both burst out into giggles upon that statement. After a moment though, Kiro looked at you with sincerity in his eyes.

“No, but really. Since I’ve met you—my life has just… felt like a dream. And I know it sounds cheesy but… every day we spend together just… seems to speed past. I am so grateful that you’re here with me today.”

A quietness spread over you for a long time, until finally, you met Kiro’s eyes, “Where else would I be?”

“Where else were you every April 9th for the past 22 years?”

You playfully rolled your eyes, “Whatever. I’m here now. That’s all that matters. Come on, let’s get back. We still have a birthday cake to eat. And—not to brag, but I think I’ve outdone myself with your gift this time.”

“Oh? Well then, I hope I won’t be disappointed.”

You left the room hand-in-hand, laughing and talking about nothing. The domestic atmosphere made Kiro’s heart feel full, as if he was finally satisfied.

Suddenly, Kiro realized that this was the sole purpose of his existence. He didn’t need the massive crowds screaming his name, as long as his name was in your heart alone. There was no need to daydream about anything more because you were already everything he had hoped for. You were the thing he spent his entire life chasing.

You were his loved one. And you were by his side just as Master Key had hoped.

Everything he needed to be happy was already right here.

#we don’t talk about last years fic #i’m not exaggerating #when i say #i think about deleting it #every. single. day.#mlqc kiro #mr love #mlqc #mr love kiro #mlqc fanfic #mr love queen's choice #mr love fanfic #evol x love

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oceanlipgloss · 2 years ago

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DEADBEAT

GAVIN.

+ no warnings.

Frightful, maybe. Monster? Perhaps.

But how can it be, when he who once was a living legend of terror in her mind became the gentle guardian of her heart?

No, he was once deadbeat, but truly so beautifully human. Warm in the flesh, soft in the heart; as for her, he could rip the world apart and bring down the stars.

+ MASTERLIST

©𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨

#mr love mobile #mr love queen's choice #mr love gavin #mr love fanfic #mlqc fanfic #mlqc gavin #gavin mlqc #love and producer #mlqc mc #mlqc bai qi #the story factory

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graffitifactory · 2 years ago

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CASTAWAY

It tore the azure quilt hanging over the world. It broke white pieces of down into black ice. Thunder.

Was this jealousy? Was this love? Was this the attraction of youth?

No one could take anything from him. Her included. She was his.

Before the storm, the young man was all smiles as he talked to her, but she was in ultimate work-mode, oblivious.

He smirked. That was good.

Rain. Rain fell.

She was his; everyone else would be a castaway.

+ MASTERLIST

©𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮

#love and producer #mlqc fanfic #mlqc ling xiao #mlqc shaw #mr love fanfic #mr love queen's choice #mr love shaw #mlqc #mr love mobile #mlqc mc

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notapradagurl7 · 27 days ago

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My Favorite Star.

Black Fem! Reader x Joey Bada$$ as Unique/KadeemPornstar!

Summary: On a regular Friday after work before waiting for one of his latest videos, your neighbor Kadeem brought you a package until you found out that your fine ass neighbor was your favorite porn star, Unique. You decided to spend time with him.

A/N: it’s been a minute since I wrote about Joey, enjoy! don't forget to leave comments, likes and reblogs are welcome to support, drop a request if you like, they're always open!

WC: 4433k.

Warnings: dirty talk, smoking weed, praise, orgasm denial, fingering, use of AAVE, cussing, use of the n-word, rough sex, choking kink, protected sex, consensual for both parties, exhibitionist kink, AU where Unique is in the modern day world, PWP, pet names.

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @satoruya @planetblaque

@playgurlxoxo @naj-ay444

@becauseimswagman1 @beenathembo @brattyfics

@hxneyclouds @henneseyhoe @yassbishimvintage

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @ovohanna24

@novahreign @writingsbytee @avoidthings @kimuzostar @slippinninque @keyera-jackson @theblacklewinsky

@euphorichappiness10 @life-in-the-slut-house @caashmoneynae @siqueth @miguelspvssy @liatreads @kaylaahisthebestest-

@uniqueoutlierblog

@dxddykenn

@secretlifeoofmarpessa @dpennedit

@westside-rot @mymindisneverhere

@mind-somewhere-else

@kindofaintrovert

@lady-olive-oil @23jammy @musicisme333 @saturnville @enchantedillumination @mogul93 @theereina @uzumaki-rebellion @blyffe @hotmessexpress94 @fakxmbj @kumkaniudaku @ranikyani @mama-2001

______

It was a typical Friday night, the kind where the world outside felt like a distant echo while you nestled into your cozy apartment with a bag of snacks and a comfy pink blanket in your bedroom. The smell of something sweet and lavender wafted in the room.

The flickering light from your TV danced across the four on your brown skin as you scrolled through your favorite adult site, your heart racing with anticipation for the latest video featuring Unique.

Your freshly two-strand twisted locs hung in front of your face, your fingers carefully pulled out the black rubber bands.

The black screen with red trims displayed a white loading icon that was frustrating, while the message read, "New video arriving soon—don’t miss out on UniqueDaDon!”

With a deep sigh, your face contorted in frustration as you rolled your eyes, the weight of impatience settling heavily in you. Your thumb angrily swiped up the screen, dismissing the page with a flick that felt almost like a release.

You shut your phone off and tossed it onto the pillow, the device landing with a soft thud, mirroring your exasperation.

Where was Unique? Your favorite porn star, Friday, Wednesday and Monday nights before 11pm were his usual scheduling time on the adult site. He was never late either, this was new.

A sudden yet alarming knock on your door jolted you back to reality. You glanced at the time—11 PM. Who the hell could it be?

Your heart raced for a different reason now, but as the doorbell chimed, your phone's camera revealed Kadeem's familiar face. You sighed in relief, putting down the gun that had been your recent purchase.

“Y/N, you've got a package! It’s a crockpot, right?” His voice was teasing, laced with that signature charm that made your heart flutter.

Damn it. They accidentally sent your purple crockpot to him. That was the last time you ordered anything online without double-checking the delivery address.

“Uh, yeah! Just, uh, some... new cooking material for my collection!” You called back, trying to play it cool, but the heat creeping up your cheeks gave you away.

You opened the door, your heart racing as you took in his appearance. He wore a black tee, paired with sweatpants. and those dark brown eyes of his sparkled under the orange hallway lights.

Kadeem chuckled, his laughter deep and rich, echoing through the thin walls between your apartments. “Cookin’ material, huh? What’chu cooking tonight?” he teased, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed casually.

“Maybe some beef stew this time, hopefully it turns out good, not too soft, if not, i'll just order take out,” You replied with a nod.

“I always smell something good from your apartment, I know you're good at what you do,” He said, smiling a bit.

He resided directly opposite you in the upscale, five-story apartment complex located in the suburbs, where both of you occupied units on the first floor. This location suited you due to your job at the nearby library, which provided a tranquil environment.

Kadeem resided in apartment 102 while you were in apartment 101; the building was quiet and uneventful, mostly occupied by residents or college students who minded their own business.

You tried to play it cool, but the heat creeping up your cheeks betrayed you. “Uh, thanks for bringing it over,” you said, trying to sound casual.

He leaned against the doorframe, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “You know I got you, Y/N. Just doin’ my neighborly duties,” he replied, stepping a little closer. He leaned casually against the doorframe, the air thick with unspoken tension.

“So, what you into these days? Besides, ya know, cookin’?” His gaze dropped to your box, and you felt your heart skip a beat, knowing he couldn't see the website you had been on.

You smirk, trying to deflect. “Oh, you know, just the usual. Binge-watching, and the occasional art pieces of mine.” You shot back, trying to keep it light-hearted, but the heat of the moment was palpable.

You wanted to be done with this conversation quickly before you missed a notification, pursuing your lips. Especially testing out your new crockpot.

“Well, thanks again Kadeem, I'll be sure to let know you if I need to smoke weed,” You quickly said, eyeing him up and down.

“Anytime, Y/N,” Kadeem replied back, as he walked away from the door and toward his apartment door.

“Bye Kadeem,” You sang playfully with a smile, waving back to him before closing the door.

He sold marijuana to nearby residents while working as a full-time adult film actor to cover his expenses, on a reputable black-owned porn site that strictly filtered out unsavory characters, minimized ads.

He exclusively showcased black women or curvy black women in his content. In their mid-twenties and some older, in their early thirties. From this very neighborhood.

His work wasn't much vanilla, nor too many hardcore videos, if there was a fantasy from the woman then Unique would fulfill it. He was always at the top row of the home page, verified with five stars.

After work, you would smoke weed with him since he was your plug, chatting about your day, and you always made a point to pay him. However, Kadeem consistently reminded you that it was free of charge.

Your heart raced as you clicked on the notification, the familiar thrill coursing through you.

“Oh shit, I can’t be late,” you whispered quickly, grabbing your phone with ease.

You ran inside of your bedroom and grabbed your laptop, putting it on the charger, you flipped the light switch and the darkness filled the room.

You snuggled into the blankets of your bed to get comfy, grabbing your earbuds and plugged it in your phone below, the timer on the adult site went to 10 seconds, as the logo of the website flickered on the black ink screen.

“Five…four…three…” You mumbled under your breath, your eyes glued to the screen.

“Now Unique wants to post on time, huh?” You sang lowly but smirked a bit, biting down on your lip.

The intro music softly faded in and out, and suddenly there he was Unique displaying that signature smirk that made your stomach flip. You felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks. Good thing this video wasn't recent either.

The video began with Kadeem showed off that signature smirking, lying down at the front of his bed with his hands behind his head, a smirk on his face and while the black woman with the same dark brown complexion as him, crawled toward him with the dim light of the room that felt as intimate as your own.

Your mouth went agape once the video faded out, and you quickly came to a sudden realization, the same man who was your plug, lived across from you was your favorite porn star? How the hell did you not see that?

His hands adorned gripped her throat, momentarily constricting her airflow, eliciting a soft harsh gasp from the woman, passing the condom to him, her hands rested on the headboard as he lifted her and settled down onto his dick. She began riding him with a steady pace.

“Faster, you pretty slut,”

His eyes flickered back to the camera with a playfully glint as if he was looking at you through the screen, letting low groan from the warmth of her walls gripping his dick tightly, “Talk to me, baby. Tell me how good you’re feeling,”

Every moan, grunt, thrust spurred you on, the ache in your stomach made you squirm underneath the blankets, and your tiny whimper left your lips.

“Lord, help me,” you whispered, sinking deeper into the pillow as you tried to ignore the ache building inside you.

You knew you shouldn’t be watching this, especially when you had just seen him a few moments ago, but here you were, it felt all too real. Your breath hitched and panted heavily.

And then he did that one thing you liked, talking to the wrong through her climax.

“There you go, let me have it,”

Once the video was over and swiped up to exit, you quickly ran toward the bathroom and accidentally knocked over your small dresser, the thud noise echoed through the walls. You screamed out loudly.

“Shit, all this fucking time, it was him,” You mumbled to yourself, wondering how you did not see it.

You were still bewildered by the fact that it was really him, and you imagined how it would feel to be in her place, to have those hands on you, to feel that body against yours. That friction with him.

Just then, the doorbell rang again, pulling you from your reverie. You cursed out loud, but curiosity got the better of you. You cleaned up mess, and threw the glass in the trash. “Who the fuck could it be now?”

You quickly paused the video and tossed your phone aside, throwing on a hoodie to cover up as you made your way to the door, your heart racing once again.

“Y/N, you good in there? I heard you scream and a loud thud. You alright?” Kadeem’s voice echoed through the door, concern lacing his tone.

“Yeah, just uh...tripped over something! I’m good!” you called back, trying to sound nonchalant, but the slight tremor in your voice betrayed your nerves.

“Alright, just checking on you,” he replied, and you could hear the concern in his voice. “You know I’m just across the hall if you need anything. Like...you know, a good smoke or a good meal.”

You chuckled awkwardly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks again, but it wasn’t just from embarrassment anymore. It was that undeniable attraction you felt toward him, mixed with the knowledge of what he did for a living, that sent your heart racing.

You stood at the door, then opened it revealing Kadeem there. Still dressed in the same attire, while you exhaled a blissful sigh. “Actually, I don't feel like cooking tonight, I could use a good meal,”

“Dinner is on me, I got you. What do you want to eat?” Kadeem asked in a warm tone, his eyes on you, you felt the heat rush in your cheeks again.

“I'll just take some wings and fries, my drink can be a fruit punch, ranch on the side too by the way,” You added, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Done,” he said, pulling out his phone, scrolling through the DoorDash app, typing in the food, the drinks and the sauce.

“While we wait, can I ask you something Kadeem?” you said softly, your tone a bit nervous yet steady. You walked over to the light purple couch with him, you took a seat on the left side.

He looked up from his plate, his eyes flickered back to you, while he gently plopped onto the couch beside you, “Of course you can, what’s on your mind?”

You hesitated briefly, but the moment felt right. “So, um… this might sound a bit weird, but I’ve been watching a lot of your content online. Like, you know, Unique? Your videos? I’m a fan.”

“You’re a fan of my videos?” he asked in a soft tone like he was surprised a bit. His body shifted toward you and his knees brushed against yours.

“Yeah, you’re good at what you do,”

Kadeem smiled at what you said to him, “I appreciate that, but you know, I could tell you were a fan. Your comments always stood out, they were always so funny, and clever,”

Your heart raced as you processed his words, feeling exposed yet thrilled. “So you’ve been watching me watch you?” you teased, your voice playful despite the heat washing over you.

“Can you blame me? You’re kinda hard to miss. Cute as hell, smart, sexy, funny, beautiful, always with that smile,” he replied, leaning back against the couch, as he flashed that charming grin. “And trust me, I’ve got fantasies of my own about you.”

You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. “Are you serious?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, but the way he looked at you made it hard to concentrate.

“Let’s just say, I’ve imagined what it’d be like to have you in many positions,” he said, his voice low and smooth, sending shivers down your spine.

Kadeem had a crush on you, and those feelings surpassed into something deeper, but your imagination did run wild.

“I've had a few of the same.” You could hardly believe the words spilling from his mouth, it made your heart race.

“But honestly, I’d rather just have you all to myself, no cameras,” he admitted, his tone shifting to something more intimate.

You tried to speak but the words caught in your throat. You weren’t sure how to respond.

“Tell me what you want, Y/N. Don’t hold back,” he replied, his voice a tempting whisper.

“No cameras. Just us, I want it to be real, you know?” you confirmed, your voice steady with sudden confidence.

Kadeem’s expression softened, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “I like the sound of that.”

You took a deep breath, the weight of his question hanging in the air. “So you want me to fuck you Y/N?” he asked you with a smile on his face.

You nodded nervously yet spoke up, “Yes, I do. But fuck me like you hate me yet you can't resist me, spank my ass, gently choke me, praise but without the word good girl, and edging, give me some direction, like that rough edge in your videos,”

“I can definitely do that. But I’ll make sure it’s all about your pleasure too. I want to know what makes you feel good but just say no when you want to stop” he mused, nodding at you.

Before you could respond, the doorbell rang again, breaking the moment. You shot him an apologetic smile and jumped up, He rushed to the door.

As Kadeem opened it, the delivery driver stood there with the food, the aroma of garlic parmesan wings and fries wafting in, making your stomach growl. You couldn't wait to eat.

“Perfect timing!” you exclaimed, he grabbed the bags from the driver and tipping him generously before closing the door. He hurried back to the couch, where you were already eyeing the spread eagerly.

He placed the bags on the brown polished coffee table, hissed from the heat touching your skin.

“So you like garlic parmesan?” he asked, opening the containers to reveal the steaming wings and crispy fries, each accompanied by little cups of ranch.

“I like what I like, so how have you been?” you replied, your heart still racing from the earlier conversation as you settled back next to him, the food between you both.

“I’ve been good, this is the kind of night I can get behind—good food, good company,” he replied with a smile, picking up a wing and taking a bite, savoring the flavor.

You laughed softly, feeling the playful energy between you both. “And you enjoy my company?” you suggested, dipping a fry in ranch and offering it to him.

“Absolutely,” he replied, leaning in to take the fry from your fingers, his lips brushing against your fingers. The simple action sent a thrill through you, igniting the chemistry that simmered beneath the surface.

After your food was finished, thrown in the trash and both of you washed your washes your hands, you grabbed his hands and led him to your bedroom, nudging the door open to the room that was neat. The walls were painted a soft lilac, a comforting hue.

Thankfully you did some spring cleaning this morning, so the vibrant floral sheets and candles gave the room a cozy feel. The smell of fresh linen and lavender filled the air.

The bed was in the middle of your bedroom, with the dresser in the corner and a small bookshelf beside it overflowing with novels and trinkets collected over the years. The vibe Kadeem got from it was one of warmth and personality.

“Nice place you got here,” he remarked, taking in the surroundings with appreciation. He stood in the middle of the room with his

“Thank you, I try to keep it comfortable and inviting," you replied with a grateful smile. Was this man trying to steal your secrets on interior decorating, or was he just being polite?

You grabbed a condom from the dresser and passed it to him. “Will it fit you?” you asked him, a teasing glint in your eye, though your voice carried a hint of genuine curiosity as well.

"Trust me, it’ll fit," he said with a wink, taking off his shirt while unwrapping the condom and tossing it onto the bed. "Now, you ready for this?"

Your eyes almost sparkled with lust as you nodded, you felt the lust building up inside. His dark brown skin was beautiful, and his chest was toned, each muscle defined under the soft glow of the candles.

“More than ready,” you breathed, your heart racing in rhythm with the pounding of your pulse. You tugged at the edge of your shirt, pulling it over your head to reveal your breasts.

After taking off your shorts and panties, you wiped your sweaty hands on the towel you had used before tossing it into the hamper. You were so damn nervous but took a few breaths to keep your cool.

You bent over onto the bed and wiggled your ass at Kadeem, he responds by giving it a rough smack, you stifled a moan while he towers over you.

With that, you pushed him gently back onto the bed, the soft mattress cradling you as he hovered over you. His chain dangling in your face and kissed your lips again, pulling down his sweatpants and boxers, his dick was thick and hung near his thigh. That was a monster.

“Damn,” you mumbled to yourself, your jaw hung low. You were damn speechless for the first time but you swallowed quickly.

“Like what’chu see beautiful?” Kadeem asked with a grin, flipping the light switch, the darkness filled the room but he turned on the other light switch to dim.

It wasn’t too dark in the room but just enough light to see both of you, he kneeled onto the bed and hovered over you again.

You almost covered your face until he grabbed them, your cheeks heating again like a blushing bride getting ready for her wedding day, “Don't hide that pretty face from me,” he added.

He stepped closer, his hands framing your face as he leaned in to capture your lips in a heated kiss. You melted into him, the soft pressure of his mouth against yours made you moan.

Your legs spread open for him, his eyes on your pussy then flickered back to you, his fingers gently fingered your pussy, you gasped softly, “Shit, no teasing, Kadeem please…” you whimpered biting your lip, he definitely wanted to do that first.

He chuckled darkly at your quick reply, his mouth wrapped around your nipple and kept pumping his fingers in and out of you at a tortuous, fast pace. He loved every moment of his, the faces you made and the way your moans echoed through the walls, alerting the residents Kadeem fucking you good.

Your essence spread all over the bedsheets, driving you wild in pleasure. “Fuck..m-more,” you babbled softly, moving your hips to his fingers. Kadeem smirked at you while picking up the pace. You were a wet whimpering mess, legs shaking as he watched you break apart underneath him.

“Fuck Kadeem, just like that!” You reached for him desperately, when his fingers curled up inside you with reckless abandon, your back arched and your hands clutched his shoulders.

His hand grasped and kissed your breasts, releasing your wrists while your hands rested on his neck. His mouth sucked your nipple and his fingers kept that pace, “You better not cum till I say so,” he said with his voice raised an octave.

“Ohh…fuck! Fuck! Kadeem!” You moaned again, catching the faint squeaks from your bed as you scoot away, “No runnin’ from me, that’s the rule,” he replied as he grabbed your wrists again. All you could was scream loudly in pleasure from his other finger pinching your clit again.

“I-i need y-your d-dick, Kadeem,” You lamented in between sentences, feeling that familiar knot tightening in your stomach, his lips slotting against yours, your mouth parted for a scream of pleasure. That had his dick harden from you.

His tongue explored your mouth and twirled with yours. swapping spit in the deep kiss and leaving a spit chain as he pulled away from you. you were so tired of the damn teasing, your hands squirming in his clutch.

“Look at you, all lost in it,” Kadeem spoke up, feeling the pleasure from you, the heat raised, his thumb swiveling onto your clit and essence pooling around his finger.

“That feels too good!”

You were betrayed by your pussy, every thrust of his finger made your body scoot across the bed and you shifted and turned, and your skin began to heat up. You essence gushed onto his fingers, he stopped immediately and withdrew his fingers from your pussy. You couldn't help what body knew what to do, he released your wrists and spanked your ass roughly.

“What did I say? You don't listen…” Kadeem barked at you, his nose rubbed against yours.

Your chest rose and fell as you took a moment to compose yourself after nodding at him. You clenched the bedsheets while he enveloped your body, directing his thick dick towards your wet entrance.

His half-lidded eyes watches how your mouth parted for a slut like moan when he shoved himself inside you, pleading the man to fuck you harder. Bullying his dick deep inside to fit every inch, fulfills that craving of friction. “Already so fucking wet-damn..” he muttered.

"Kadeem, you're soo big,” You trailed off after a plethora of moans, he knew that you were speechless and only answered with a wild moan or two. Kneading your other breast while giving long, deep strokes that go dizzy and dumb, He likes this side of you, the way your body responds to him. He was definitely gonna make you his.

"You’re mine,” He whispered in your ear, digging deeper into you again as he watched himself go in and out effortlessly, your wetness coating his dick like a blanket. He wanted to get every drop, he moaned at the sight.

He brought his body closer to yours, your arms wrapped around his neck and his thrusts went sporadic, the gold chain touched your collarbone and you shook from the cold metal, “M-mine, you're all mine,” you trailed off

Nails scratching relentlessly onto his back with every ruthless thrust, Kadeem kept grunting and raspily moaning from that, he was spurred on from the way you bounced under him to your moans, this was better than his video, you were finally filled up to the brim by him. “Keep scratching me up pretty girl, I'll fuck you harder,” he groaned lowly.

The sounds of skin slapping against skin and your breathless moans, echoing off the walls as you saw the colors of the room blurring from your tear-filled eyes. As if the room was spinning, the bed creaked from the movement from when he picked up the pace again, thrusting deeper and harder, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “That’s my girl, you’re doing so good, baby,”

“That’s it, let it build. You can do it,” he encouraged, his voice a low growl that resonated within you.You felt your swollen pussy clench around his dick tighter. “Let me cum, Kadeem,”

“You can cum now,”

With that, you came undone immediately. Your essence left a big mess on his dick and bedding, He followed suit by filling you up and you screamed loudly, the soft glow of the lights casting light onto your bodies. Kadeem collapsed beside you.

“You good?” he asked in concern with his eyes flickering toward you, you nodded weakly. “I'll run you a hot bath,”

“Damn girl, you’re something else,” Kadeem panted lowly, looking at you while kissing your lips.

“I can definitely say that same thing about you, baby,” You chuckled lightly.

He picked you up and carried you into the bathroom, running a hot bath for you while he gently settled you into the foamy bath, sighing in bliss at the touch of the warm water on your skin. He pulled up his sweatpants, then crouched near the tub. He looked like he had something on his mind.

“Can I take you out for a date?”

You smiled at the man and nodded in agreement, bringing your legs close to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. “I’d like that, you remember what’s my favorite place?” you asked him, heat in your cheeks.

“Yeah, that Italian restaurant around the corner. I can pick you up around 8? This weekend?” he asked you with a gentle tone, smiling at you.

“I’d like that,” You replied with a warm smile. Feeling that warm fuzzy feeling in your stomach. This was a great Friday night, now he was all yours.

—————-

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natalievoncatte · 5 months ago

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2. Courage

Her breath came in fits and starts as Kara knelt on the floor of her apartment. She told herself it wasn’t real, that it wasn’t permanent, that Mxyzptlk was creating illusions, but it felt real. It felt more real than the wood beneath her palms. She still gasped as if cold hard fingers closed around her throat and another woman’s broken heart bathed her in a murdering light. She was sure that if she looked over at the stand up mirror she’d see sickly green lines slicing through her skin, but when she looked that was nothing.

“Well,” said Mxyzptlk, “that was a close scrape, then. Shall we have another go? Perhaps a bit more carefully worded this time.”

Kara looked up, red sun fury boiling in her eyes.

“Get out.”

“Kara, perhaps it just wasn’t meant to be.”

“Get out,” Kara snarled, her voice chasing dust from the ceiling thin streamers. “Your gifts are poison. And stay away from Lena, do you hear me?”

He threw up his hands. “Fine then, fine then, I’ll go, but if you ever need me… I still owe you a favor.”

“Out!” Kara raged.

After he vanished, Alex stumbled back into the room, looking at Kara with shock and alarm. She glanced at J’onn, who formed a fight frown and said, “Kara, when you’re ready, if you want to talk, we can talk.”

Kara nodded with a dismissive wave. The door closed a moment later and Kara glanced over to see Alex still standing there.

“Sis?” she asked, her voice small.

Kara swallowed.

“What did he do?”

“He cheated,” Kara snapped. “He twisted things. He said he would help me fix things with Lena but made sure it wouldn’t work. He… it was hell, Alex, he showed me hell. Everyone kept dying. You, my friends, her. Every choice I made set off some… some dick genie bullshit that made all my wishes go wrong. The last one almost got me killed. For real. I was so stupid.”

“What did you ask for?”

“I asked him to make so we never met so she could be happy without me, and instead she died in the helicopter attack and her mother brought her back as Metallo to kill me.”

Alex blinked. “Jesus,” she whispered.

Kara began to shake, hugging herself. As the righteous fury faded, the towering grief swept in to take its place, a freezing wind following the setting of a tyrant sun. She crumpled, falling back into the couch.

Alex was there in an instant, wrapping Kara in a protective hug as she began to sob.

“What did he want to show me? That it wasn’t going to ever work? That we were just doomed from the start?”

Alex tensed, sucking in a sharp breath.

“He came to you and said he’d fix your friendship?”

“No, he said he’s grant me one gift, and that’s what I asked for.”

Alex went slack for a brief moment. When Kara turned to look at her, there was an expression of absolute shock on her face.

“You… you didn’t ask for your parents. Or to save Krypton. You asked for Lena.”

“Yeah,” Kara sniffed, “why?”

Alex looked thunderstruck. Kara had seen this expression before, when her sister had grasped something difficult or complex. It was the look of an epiphany, a realization.

“I don’t think he was trying to tell you there was never a chance,” Alex said, softly. “Maybe he wasn’t trying to tell you anything at all. Maybe the only thing that matters is what you took from it.”

“All it took from it is that it’s over,” Kara whimpered. “It’s all over. I never had a chance.”

Alex rubbed her back for a while. She seemed conflicted, opening her mouth to speak several times before closing it again.

“Why Lena? Why does she matter so much to you?”

Kara choked back and swallowed, hard. “She was my best friend before I ruined us. She made me feel like a whole person, and she loved me, she loved Kara in a way that nobody ever has. I felt this peace with her, and she made me so happy and contented when I was with her protected her. I just want another five minutes of that feeling.”

Alex was quiet again.

“You could have had Krypton back, or your parents, or… or Jeremiah… and you picked Lena.”

Kara heard the way her voice hitched and tensed, a cold knife running down her spine.

“Alex I’m sorry, I didn’t think, I was so stupid…”

“No,” Alex smoothed her hair, “no, kiddo. Shhh, it’s okay. I understand.”

There was an unspoken even if you don’t.

“What are you trying to say?”

Alex swallowed hard, tensing.

“I think you need to hear this, Kara, and you might have to hear it from me. Buying CatCo was not a friendly gesture. One does not drop almost a billion dollars to chitchat and gossip with a buddy. Filling your office with flowers was not a simple thank you, and Lena did not take learning about your identity the way a close friend would. At all.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I think you do, you just don’t want to see it because of what it means.”

“What?”

“Kara,” said Alex, “one does not burn their one wish on another person’s happiness unless they deeply care about that person. I don’t think I would have made a wish like that for Maggie.”

Kara’s head snapped up, almost dangerously fast. She stared straight ahead, past Alex, an electric fusion of terror and elation smashing together inside her like water on rocks. How could she be so blind?

“You think I’m in love with Lena.”

Alex nodded.

“Don’t think…”

“Office full of flowers,” said Alex.

Kara bolted to her feet, gently disentangling from her sister, and headed for the door.

“Kara?!” Alex demanded. “Please don’t do something you’ll regret.”

Kara paused at the door.

“I already did.”

When she touched down on the balcony, Lena was at her table in her kitchen, staring at a glass of scotch. The change in her heart rate and slight shift in her posture told Kara that she knew she was there.

Kara waited.

Lena rose, swallowed the last of her drink in a dramatic flourish, and stalked to the door. She swept it open and stood on the threshold, leaning against the frame to bar Kara’s way.

“Make it quick, I’m not in the mood.”

“I’m sorry,” Kara began.

“Not this again,” Lena sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Listen to me, God damn it,” Kara snapped.

Lena’s eyes widened at the profanity, and she didn’t move. She didn’t let Kara in.

She didn’t close the door, either.

“I’m listening.”

Kara swept her hands through her hair. She didn’t know where to start, so she just blurted it out.

“A fifth dimensional imp just gave me a chance to change history any way I wanted. Any way I wanted.”

“And this was the best that you could do?” Lena said, arching her eyebrow. She seemed so sharp and yet so lost and tired, the freighted eyes of a lonely girl hiding within her austere, cold beauty.

Eyes that Kara saw as a mirror of her own.

“All of the things I tried turned into monkey’s paw bullshit,” said Kara. “It was never going to work because getting a do-over was the coward’s way out. I can’t fix this unless I admit what I’ve done.”

“Oh, here we go,” said Lena. “Not the ‘I was only trying to protect you’, speech again.”

“You killed your brother for me and I was too cowardly to tell you my real name,” said Kara.

Lena’s face fell.

“I was too cowardly to tell you the truth. I was too scared that I might lose you. That wasn’t the worst part. I didn’t give you the faith that you put in me. I told myself over and over that you were the most important person in my life, and you know what? You are. I had a chance at anything, and I didn’t pick my birth family or my foster father or my culture or my entire planet. I picked you.”

Lena stared at her, visibly stunned.

“You matter more to me than anyone. If it was you or the chemicals I would have saved you and fuck the reservoir. If it was you or the city it would be you. If it was anyone or anything it would be you. Always you. But I didn’t treat you like that. I treated you like a threat, like spending to be scared of, and I took from you without giving, and I’m sorry.”

Standing up, Lena hugged herself, gaze locked with Kara’s.

“What do you want?”

“I want to fix it.”

“How?”

“We can fix it, together. I know you want to. You have a good heart, full of kindness. I just want to hold it in my palms and shelter and protect it and care for you always. I want it more than I want air to breath. If you want to fix and I want to fix it we can find a way. Not right now, not in five minutes, maybe not for years, but I will do anything to bring you back, and I don’t care what you do, I will never treat you like a villain.”

Lena licked her lips and looked away. Hot tears glittered on her cheeks as she pressed her eyelids shut and Kara ached with the pain of her revelation.

“If you don’t want to fix things with me, it’s okay. Just don’t do what you’re planning to do. Don’t hurt anyone, even with good intentions. Don’t let yourself become something you’re not because I didn’t have the courage to help you be all that you are.”

“Get off my balcony,” Lena choked out. “Go. Now, get away!”

Kara stumbled back as if struck, the force of those words crashing into her chest like a hammer, and she didn’t breath as she took off, careful to ascend slowly until she gained enough height.

Then she went hypersonic, her speed dragging out her shriek of rage and anguish behind her, Kara outrunning it even as she couldn’t outrun the fury and grief choking her chest. She flew and flew, past the clouds, flew as the air thinned, blasted into the very embrace of space until the air was gone and no one would ever hear her scream again.

She could hold her breath, she thought. Hold it for hours until she passed out and by the time her orbit decayed she’d be gone and her empty shell could tumble somewhere into the ocean and be forgotten.

A tiny voice whispered, you must live, Kara, so that we are not forgotten.

Kara let herself fall. She tumbled through the air, burning a crimson wake as she made reentry, slowing somewhere over the Pacific.

There was no hurry to get home. When she descended from her roof and walked down the stairs to her loft, she stumbled. There was not one heartbeat in her home, but two.

In a daze, she stumbled through the door and froze. Lena was sitting across from Alex, and for a wonder, Alex wasn’t trying to arrest or shoot her. They both had a beer in front of them and looked to be in mid conversation when Kara walked in.

On the table between them was Myriad. It looked so small, so inconsequential, this ultimate weapon built by her people to enslave their subjects.

Alex rose swiftly. “I’m going to get going. You two clearly have a lot to discuss.” She turned to Lena. “Hurt my sister like that again and next time I’ll fire the orbital fusion cannon at you.”

Lena glared, but said nothing.

Kara slowly pulled out a chair and sat down. Tentatively , she reached across and placed her hand on it, to pull it in. She froze as Lena’s hand settled on hers, fingers curling around Kara’s wrist.

“I’m sorry, too,” Lena offered, in a harsh whisper. “I’m sorry, Kara. I want to try, too.”

For the first time that night, Kara smiled.

It was not an easy or quick thing. A monument is not built in a day and things that last a lifetime are not easily forged. It took months, then years, for the trust to be rebuilt, its foundations made of bricks like lunches and sister night invitations, quiet shared meals and tentative questions that had already been answered, but in the end a wall rose, taller and stronger than ever before. Not a barrier that stood between them but a fortress that encircled and endured, made of stolen kisses and frantic nights and a pair of matching bracelets.

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fleckficgirl · 6 months ago

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Heartthrob | Arthur Fleck x reader 💗 CHAPTER 13

Summary: Attempting to conceal her checkered past, a young dancer in Gotham (Y/N) lands a job at Ha-Ha’s and finds herself increasingly drawn to a shy, lonely clown named Arthur Fleck.

Warnings: sex, age gap, language, violence, mental illness, assault

Word Count: 2651

Chapter List: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

Arthur called immediately after you hung up the phone with Tina and Chantelle and asked you to meet him at City Central Station at noon.

“I have to go out to Long Island,” he said, a heavy undercurrent of apology in his voice. “And I wanted to ask if you’d be willing to come with me.”

“Sounds perfect,” you’d replied instantly.

Arthur laughed, surprised. “I, uh…well, I know it’s not very romantic. But it’s kind of an emergency and-”

“I’m there,” you said. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yes,” Arthur said. He sounded tense, flustered. You wished you were in the same room with him so you could put his arms around him and calm him down. Comfort him with your body. Among other things.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Arthur assured you. “I’m not hurt or anything. I can explain everything to you on the train. I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t be sorry, Arthur,” you stopped him. “I’m happy just to spend time with you. No matter what we’re doing.”

You heard Arthur pause, releasing a relieved-sounding sigh on the other end, his tone softening. “I…I couldn't stop thinking about you last night,” he confessed. “I think I even dreamed about you.”

“Really?” you felt an uncontrollable smile spread across your face. Only Arthur Fleck could make you smile like a complete loon.

“Sorry. Is that weird for me to tell you that?”

“No!” you blurted. “In fact, I dreamed about you!”

Arthur laughed. “You did? Last night?”

“Uh…not last night, exactly.” You felt your cheeks heating up and felt glad Arthur couldn't see you blush. “Earlier. Like…maybe after the first time I saw you?”

“That’s sweet, Y/N. Was it a nice dream?”

“It was…very nice.”

If only Arthur knew the true carnal nature of that first dream. You’d get around to telling him someday…hopefully sooner rather than later.

And now, one hour later, here you were: one hour standing on the train platform waiting for him.

You glanced around Gotham City Central Station at all the bustling people - still rushing, still hustling, still rat-racing on a Saturday morning. They were like hamsters on one big gigantic wheel in a cage called Gotham, and although you knew you were one of them, having a day off gave you a refreshed perspective: Exactly who was winning this race? Why did normal people have to work themselves into the ground just to scrape by?

It seemed the winners of this race had already been called a long time ago.

Among the noise, traffic and images vying for your attention all at the same time, you locked eyes with a poster of Thomas Wayne. You shook your head. He was on television all the time these days. People seemed to think Wayne could “fix” Gotham and wanted him to run for mayor.

To put it bluntly: you thought those people were delusional.

There was no denying Gotham was a broken place. But was the wealthy mogul Thomas Wayne really the one to fix it? How could he know what the people of this God-forsaken city needed to get back on their feet? How could someone born and raised with an endless supply of silver spoons in his mouth possibly relate to living on the fringes of society?

The crowd parted and Arthur appeared, holding a newspaper under his arm. He spotted you and smiled. You ran up to him and leapt into his arms. Arthur caught you, spun you, then dipped you over and kissed you. The two of you were living in your own musical fantasy in the middle of a dirty, overcrowded train station.

“I’m so sorry that this is our second date,”Arthur said as he lowered you to the ground. “I wanted to plan something more romantic…a walk in the park, or maybe a trip to the-”

“Arthur,” you stopped him. “Anytime we’re together is romantic. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world right now but here.”

He smiled shyly and gave you a tender kiss on the cheek.

The graze of his lips against you triggered a slew of wants. You wanted to kiss him again. Properly. In fact, you wanted to do a lot of things to him. The memory of the soft pull of Arthur’s lips against yours the night before had stirred within you like a fever since then - but you were worried that if you started, you wouldn't be able to stop. And there were too many people around. You’d have to behave yourself. At least for the time being.

“So where exactly on Long Island are we headed?” you asked. “And what’s this mystery mission you couldn’t tell me about on the phone?”

Arthur drew in a heavy breath. “It’s…look, I don’t want to sound crazy. I’m not sure if I believe it myself, but last night…”

He was interrupted by your train pulling loudly into the station.

“That’s the one we want,” he jerked his head towards it.

“Oh shit!” you exclaimed. “I just remembered, I didn’t buy a ticket!”

“Don’t worry,” Arthur fished into his jacket pocket and pulled out two small pieces of paper. “I got yours.”

After finding two empty seats together, you placed your hand on Arthur’s and listened. Listened as he told you everything: How his mother had been writing letters to Thomas Wayne (funny how you’d just been thinking about him…though to be fair, his smug face was plastered all over the city). How he hadn’t paid his mother’s compulsive letter-writing much mind. She was set in her ways and tended to overfocus on things that were of little to no consequence. And finally: how last night after coming home from your date, an unexpected burst of curiosity had cajoled him into reading one of her letters…

…in which his mother had disclosed something totally unexpected. Something shocking.

“Thomas Wayne?” you repeated, raising your eyebrows.

Arthur nodded.

“Your…father?”

You blinked. This was so out of left field, it had gone past left field and back to right again. You struggled to pick a reaction; there were so many coursing through your mind and heart. You could only imagine how Arthur was feeling.

“How did your mother even know him?” you asked, agog.

“She used to work for the Waynes. As their housekeeper. Just before I was born.”

You shook your head in stunned disbelief. “I have to say, I don’t know what to think. Do you believe her, Arthur?”

Arthur was silent for a moment, and you gave him space to find the words.

“At first I didn't, really. She hasn’t always been…the best at telling the truth. She thinks things are real that aren’t. I wonder sometimes if I get that from her.”

He unfolded the newspaper on his lap and began leafing through the pages.

“But now, when I look at pictures of him - and his pictures are everywhere - I can’t help but see a resemblance. Maybe it’s all in my head, I don’t know.”

Arthur landed on a picture of Wayne and his wife, gazing admiringly up at him as he waved to a crowd. He tore out the photo and creased back the edges so you both could see it more clearly.

“Do you think I look like him, Y/N?” Arthur asked.

“I don’t know…” You scoured the famous man’s face. The curve of his cheekbones, the arch of his eyebrows.

Like a bolt of lightning, it struck you.

“Shit, Arthur. I don’t know if I’m going crazy, but…now I do kind of see a resemblance!”

“I know,” Arthur said. “Now that I see it, I can’t stop seeing it.”

You peered in closer.

“But why wouldn’t she say anything until now?” you leaned back in your seat. “Why wait all these years?”

“She said she signed some papers promising she would keep it a secret. It was to protect me as their child, some big scandal coming out. But she said they loved each other. They just couldn’t be together.”

“Jesus,” you sat back in your seat. Through the window, the entire world seemed to blur as the train lurched away from the city. “What a fucking rollercoaster.”

“I have to go see him,” Arthur’s voice broke into your racing thoughts. “Talk to him face to face.”

“Of course,” you agreed. “Go to his house and confront him. It’s the only way to get to the bottom of this. ”

You’d been to Wayne Manor only once before: a field trip in the second grade at Burnley Elementary School. Over a decade later, all you recalled about the visit were the Waynes’ dobermans that barked at you and your classmates the entire time. Like you were intruders even though the Manor was a historical landmark with paid tours.

The Waynes were a piece of work.

“Come on,” you took Arthur’s hand as you exited the train station. There were no cabs around like in the Gotham, and the walk from the train station to Wayne Manor would take at least half an hour on foot.

Long Island was worlds apart from the city. Away from the endless, screeching roar of Gotham, you could actually hear yourself think.

You and Arthur made your way down the tree-lined roads. It was autumn and the leaves were beginning to turn gold and fall to the ground. You liked how Arthur made a point to always walk on the outside of the sidewalk, creating a buffer between yourself and the street. Maybe his mother was crazy, but there was no denying she had raised a gentleman.

Arthur seemed to relish holding your hand, the sound of dry leaves crunching beneath your feet.

“So what was that dream you had about me?” you asked playfully, giving his hand a light squeeze. You looked over to see his cheeks flush. His shy smile swept you off your feet.

“Oh,” Arthur gave a small laugh. “I dreamed you were onstage with me.”

“Doing your comedy act?” you giggled. “Like a singing, dancing comedic duo?”

“No,” Arthur shook his head. “I mean yes. Kind of. We were singing and dancing together. I was in my red suit and you were…”

He paused. You shot him a quizzical look.

“I was what?” you prodded.

“It’s embarrassing.”

“What was I, naked or something?”

“No,” he shook his head. His face was even cuter (if such a thing was possible) when it was all embarrassed and flushed.

“You were wearing your Snow White costume.”

Not the answer you’d expected. You let out a laugh.

“I guess that makes sense,” you conceded. “Given you’ve seen me in it at the children’s hospital.”

“It’s not just that,” Arthur confessed as you walked along. “It’s because…well, I didn’t tell you this at the time because I thought it would be weird. But Snow White was the first movie I ever saw in the movie theater.”

“That’s not so strange,” you replied. “It’s a classic, after all.”

“Well…she was also my first love. Snow White, I mean. I saw her up there on the screen and I fell in love with her.”

Now you were blushing. And as stupid as it was, you also felt a pang of jealousy course through you. Yes, you were jealous of a cartoon princess Arthur’d been infatuated with as a child. It was beyond ridiculous, but the truth was: hearing Arthur loved anyone besides you made your heart pound with envy. You just hoped he still didn’t have a thing for her.

“You know…” Arthur’s voice broke into your racing thoughts. “I hope this isn't weird of me to say, but…I'm honestly surprised you would ever be interested in someone like me.”

You stopped in your tracks. Was he trying to give you the brush off? Tell you he was still in love with a childhood celluloid dream? Your heart was jumping up and down, side to side. You couldn’t imagine going on without him in your life.

“What makes you say that?” you asked, measured tone and breath, trying specifically not to sound as psycho as you really felt.

Arthur shrugged. “I’m…older than you, I live with my mother. I have no money. And you…”

You wanted to protest everything he was saying, but reminded yourself to wait patiently for him to complete the thought.

“...you’re a college student.”

“I was a college student,” you corrected him.

“You deserve to live in a beautiful place like this,” Arthur said, gesturing at the verdant surroundings. “Someone who can give you that.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” you blurted. You could feel another episode coming on and as much as you trusted Arthur, you really didn’t want to lose it in front of him again. You especially didn’t want to lose it because he was dumping you. And on Long Island, no less. Crazy behavior was normal in Gotham, but here they’d have you arrested for so much as a shriek here.

“No!” he shook his head immediately. “Not at all. I just…don’t want you to feel like I’m keeping you from a better life. You know I have all these problems…”

You breathed a silent sigh of relief. He wasn’t breaking up with you. He was just concerned, thoughtful, putting your needs ahead of his.

It only made your feelings deepen for him even more.

“Does it bother you?” Arthur asked. “That I’m older than you?”

“No,” you replied. “Does it bother you? Have you ever been with someone younger?”

Arthur pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and shook one loose, bringing it to his mouth as he fished around his other pocket for a lighter.

“I haven’t really dated at all,” he said with an embarrassed wince. “I’m not someone most people would…ever be interested in.”

“That’s not true,” you said, still reeling from the shock that this beautiful, sweet, tender man had never dated. Though to be fair, knowing he’d loved anyone else would have triggered more jealousy. At the same time, you couldn’t wrap your head around how no one could see how amazing he was.

“I’ve never dated, either, Arthur,” you pointed out.

“But that makes sense. You're a lot younger than I am.”

You grinned slightly. “Have you been doing the math? How much?”

Arthur inhaled the first drag of his cigarette, and it billowed out into the clean Long Island air.

“You told me what year you graduated last night. If I’d stayed in school, I would have graduated in 1964. Which means I'm fifteen years older than you. It took me a second to do the math. That was never my strong subject. None of them were.”

You shook your head, then suddenly found yourself laughing. “Actually…”

Arthur looked up at you with big, worried eyes. “Yes?”

“I like that you’re older than me,” you confessed.

“You do?”

“Is that weird?” Now you felt a little embarrassed. You didn’t want Arthur to think you were a freak, but you were just being honest. “I don't like guys my age.”

“You didn't meet anyone you liked at school? I'd think lots of guys would be interested in you.”

“‘Interested’ is a relative term,” you scoffed bitterly. “The guys at Gotham U are…let's just say a lot of them are book smart. And come from rich families. But they act like fucking animals.”

Arthur frowned. “Animals? How do you mean?”

You shook your head. “I'll tell you about it some other time.”

Arthur nodded respectfully.

“The truth is, Arthur,” you continued. “I never liked anybody that way…until I met you.”

Arthur smiled at the ground as you plodded along in sync, then silently took your hand.

“I feel the same way about you,” he said. “When we’re together, it just…feels right.”

“I know,” you said, giving his hand a squeeze. “So many things in my life haven’t felt right…haven't been right. But this does. And if it feels right, nothing else matters.”

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bettystonewell · 1 month ago

Text

SNICKERDOODLES & SPECIAL SAUCE

Part 1 - Do We Really Have to Keep Her?

Story Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader,

Summary: ‘Twas the night of fake Christmas and all through the halls, creatures were stirring, eventually on all fours… or …Mrs Butters isn’t just messing with Dean’s underwear drawer. She’s messing with your love lives, too. 18+ only

Word Count: 4K words

Tags/Warnings: crack, friends to lovers, love potion, language, dubious consent, pining, eggnog, Mrs Butters is a terrible wingman, SMUT in parts 2&3—————————————————————Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Read on AO3

Part 1: Do We Really Have to Keep Her?

The scene was right outta your childhood. Strings of giant baubles pre-lit flew before your eyes; spinning and winding around the balustrades and the lush green branches of the fir tree sitting atop the war room table. Mrs Butters had whipped it out of thin air without a visible wand or spell book, and you were afraid to ask.

Five finger discounts weren’t uncommon in the bunker, but she didn’t seem the stealing kind.

Had the whiskers on her chin been longer and she dressed all in blue, she’d make a mean Merlin or Merriweather. She was just missing her sister Flora. Or did that title fall on you?

“Close your mouth, dear,” she said as her hands flattened the collar of her blouse. “You’ll catch flies that way. Not a man.”

Not a… What? She’d been throwing shade at you all day, but that? That took the cake.

Who said you needed one for starters? You surrounded yourself with four on the daily and they were less than desired. An angel, a literal child, and two hunters, arrogant and crude. Yuck, yuck, and double yuck.

Sam could keep his toxic gas, and Dean, refusing to change his underthings until he’d worn them inside and out, twice? Yeah. No thanks.

You opened your mouth wider to argue, making her words come true. Only she cut you off with the same tsk she’d given Dean earlier when questioning his third beer.

“Oh, I know your type.” She hooted like an owl and the lights flickered along in time. “You’re the same as young Josie. The first Woman of Letters. Look what happened to her.”

“Abbadon possessed and killed her,” you said.

“Yet you have a tattoo for that.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she tsked again, but before you could offer another retort, she clicked her heels and strode away. Shame it wasn’t three times. This was your home and her picking you to pieces in it wasn’t happening. No way, no how.

So, you chased after her and her stupid apron into the kitchen, a few steps behind. She was fast for an old lady, but you were faster.

“Look lady!” You grabbed her by the arm and she turned to face you. Those eyes of hers could shoot laser beams if she wanted. Cut your insides open, head to toe. Anyone would think you’d stolen her fake Christmas. Screw your Tuesday afternoon in June.

“Mrs Butters will do, dear,” she said in her sweetest voice. The smile that accompanied it prickled the hairs on the back of your neck. “Why don’t you help me with the snickerdoodles?”

Wait. What? No. You didn’t want to help her with her cookies. You didn’t want her here at all.

You looked her in her beady eyes and opened your mouth wide to speak, only to find a spatula in your left hand, and an eggbeater in your right.

What the—

“Language!” she chirped.

That evening, Dean’s face lit up, matching all that glittered as he and Sam descended the spiral staircase. The spring in his step like a child’s on an actual Christmas morning.

The baubles. The tinsel. The lights. No wonder Mrs Butters had kept you busy baking and decorating all afternoon. More flourishes had been added since you’d last seen it, and there were presents, too. Gifts wrapped in ribbons and glossy wrapping that belonged in a department store window, never in your life, now sat below the lowest branches of the tree.

The large square one with the teal and white trimmings had your name on it. Literally. Written in silver cursive on a blue background, you could just make out from where you stood, a good three feet behind her.

That is until the guys hit the ground and you took a step towards Dean, who was first. Headed straight for Mrs Butters and the silver tray of Christmas treats in her hands, of course.

He took one and shoved it into his mouth, biting off Santa’s face with no qualms. No questions asked, either. Give that man sugar and a crumbly base to eat it off of and you’ve won his heart over, tenfold.

You cocked your brow, but he just grinned through full, rosy cheeks, and said, “This is great, Mrs B.” with a crumbly finish.

Sam rolled his eyes, and you agreed. Was it great?

“Don’t chew with your mouthful, dear.” She patted him on the back. “And it’s not me you should be thanking.”

She winked at you, and all eyes turned.

“You made these?” Dean asked, looking you up and down just as she had earlier.

Did you? Your sugar coated hands smoothed over your thighs, catching on the skirt of your apron. She’d made them. You just mixed up the icing and placed dollop after dollop of red, white, green and black on their golden tops. But did you tell him that? No. Were you given the chance to? Also, no.

“She made them from scratch.” Mrs Butters beamed before you could, snapping her fingers and walking away with a clickety-clack.

The woman was a whirlwind. The tray of cookies, magical just like her to the point you weren’t sure any of you should be eating them, even if you had helped mix the ingredients. They’d appeared on the table in a space amongst the presents that wasn’t there two seconds before.

Though why were you surprised?

Dean still wasn’t. Least not at the apparating snickerdoodles. “You really made these?” he said, shoving Santa’s jolly belly and legs into his mouth all at once.

You folded your arms across your chest. It may’ve been untrue, but he didn’t have to doubt you. “Is it so hard to believe I baked?” you asked with a narrowing glare.

“Maybe in college.” He chuckled, leaving you flustered and him a larger hole for the cookie crumbs to crumble onto his chin.

“It was one time!” And he’d never let it go.

Cue Dean’s purple nightdress and Sam ripping his eyes from their sockets.

Packed lunches.

Smoothies on tap for Jack.

Clean sheets and clean clothes for everyone. Only some of your bras and panties had gone MIA. Replaced with stockings, a dressing gown and a petticoat that would never fit under your jeans and sweats, let alone the one skirt you wore on the job.

Of course, you knew who to thank. She’d rearranged the kitchen. And if you’d been insulted before? Well, it didn’t matter, because you did nothing, choosing to stew in your bitterness. She considered the room your domain and you a housewife, yet she’d charged in and changed it on you.

You couldn’t win.

The fresh fruit was a nice touch, sure. It sat on the counter along with all the other makings of your Christmas dinner, including ham, turkey, and pork. That stuff had you salivating.

The apples she had you stewing, though? Not so much.

“Perfect!” Mrs Butters said, not noticing the glitter that’d fallen into the pot from the tinsel hanging above the burners. Nope. She clapped her hands with the tips of her fingers in excitement, rather. “The boys will be most surprised. Samuel was very excited when I told him about my special apple and cranberry sauce.”

You bet he was, and you gave her your best fake smile. Sam was particular about what he ate, and the sugar levels in this stuff were more than he’d eaten in the past year. He’d get a surprise all right. She would too if she let Dean sample all the dairy centric dishes she’d made.

“Now, turn the heat to a simmer, dear,” she said, and in the next breath yelled, “Jack!”

Could she not slow down just a teensy bit?

Before you could even crank the gas, she was hightailing it to the kitchen table where he sat eating his sandwich. No matter, he didn’t want it. She’d insisted you make it for him, anyway.

It was hard enough to keep up with her quips and off-the-cuff insults, but Jack was innocent, vulnerable, and she wasn’t upsetting him anymore than she already had under your watch. So you threw in the towel, the one you’d had resting on your shoulder, and you strode over to him, too.

“Can we fix you anything else?” she chirped at him. We, meaning you.

“Ah, no, thanks.” You shared a look. His shoulders hunched over as he put the wholemeal, de-crusted PB and J back on his plate. “I wasn’t—”

“Oh, pish posh.” She double tsked. “You’re a growing boy. Perhaps another smoothie if the sandwich isn’t hitting the spot?”

She’d phrased it as a question, but it wasn’t. Nope. Another glass of the creamy concoction she’d forced upon him all day appeared from nowhere. The woman could magic up food and trees without lifting a finger, yet she was hovering over you as she cast instructions on how to make everything by hand.

Why you were even agreeing to this was beyond you. Yes, you had your ulterior motives. Monitor the witch and protect Jack because Cas was indisposed, and the guys were chasing monsters at the new fandangle radar’s whim. But being her bitch? You needed a break from that.

“Wanna watch something?” you asked Jack, tugging on your apron by the longest piece to untie it. Only, it was rather tight, as was Mrs Butters gripping your shoulder.

“We have to finish our sauce first, dear,” she said.

Of course you did. Which led you back to the burners, and Jack to the remodelled Dean cave without you to watch Home Alone ‘cause it was neither bloody nor magical. There was enough of the latter going round, and apples needed to be tended to.

“Why can’t you just whip this up like everything else?” you said as you stirred the apples, once, twice and thrice as instructed.

“Well, I can’t do all the work, can I? Now. Back the other way,” she said, and you did that, too.

“But how’re—”

“Three times, dear,” she insisted, hovering closer to your side.

That was… rather precise, sounding more like a spell than a recipe, and you stopped for a moment, reconsidering the repercussions if you continued.

“Is this—”

“A buh-buh-buh.” She widened her beady eyes. “We’re making this with love. It has to be done correctly.”

“Love?” Yeah, you weren’t touching the stuff when it was done. You’d added every single ingredient that had gone into it so far, but you were still unaware of where it’d all come from besides thin air.

Where was everything before it popped into sight? It didn’t even make a sound when it did, and, oh god, what if love was a code for something more sinister… or bodily? Could you catch herpes with a special sauce? Wasn’t there a saying about pulling things from asses?

Heh. Dean would appreciate that, and your lips splayed into a smile at the thought of him and his stupid grin.

“Is there something funny about love?” Mrs Butters asked, and you swallowed.

If only she knew. “No.” You flicked your head and cleared your throat for good measure, turning just in time to see a metal sieve pop into her hand.

“Where—”

“Apples, dear.” She nodded to the large pot.

Right… Of course.

You set to work, doing as she’d asked. Only she continued to stare, never blinking. Watching every movement of your hand, up and down, left to right, as you scooped the apples out.

“How did you come to be in the bunker?” Her much kinder voice caught you off guard, and… wait. No insult?

No tsks or mentions you were doing it wrong? And how come she got to ask the questions?

“I, ah… Dean invited me to move in a couple of years ago.” You flicked your eyes her way, hoping the bare minimum would satisfy her, and let you get back to concentrating on the apples.

“That was nice of him,” she said, and you could only agree. It was.

“Do you enjoy living here?”

“It beats stingy motels.” You shrugged.

“Oh. I’m sure it does, but you’re living in such tight quarters.” She waved her hand, and the pot doubled before your eyes. “It’s bound to cause issues between a woman and two men.”

And there it was. The impending insult.

So that was her problem. You living alone with Sam and Dean? With all the modern technology around, she must’ve realised things had changed since the fifties, and “We’re just friends,” you said. Both brothers were always kind to you, and unlike everything else that moved, Dean had never tried getting into your pants, so things weren’t awkward. There was mutual respect. The odd banter. Comradery.

“With urges.”

If you had a drink, you’d have spat it out. As it was, you dropped your ladle into the pot, only to find the handle, clean and back in your fingers before you had the chance to retort. Yeah, that was more like it. Her moving stuff.

Urges, though? Is this where all the glances were coming from? The comments about Josie? She didn’t want some floozy perverting her boys?

“Are you dating anyone?” she asked next, and bingo.

You were right on the money.

Bitch. You weren’t a floozy.

“Look. I’m not dating Sam or Dean, so you don’t have to worry, alright?”

“Oh, I know you’re not seeing Samuel.” She chuckled. “He has Eileen.”

Wait. “He does?” She’d been here all of one day. How the hell did she know that when you didn’t? Had she been looking into more than just your dirty laundry?

Fuck.

Dean’s magazines. The shoe box in your closet.

You swallowed and flicked your head down to her level, expecting more judgement; but finding empathy in the lines that decorated her face instead.

“Tell me more about you and Dean,” she said. “I imagine you saw him too this morning?”

You and Dean.

You and Dean?

What was that supposed to mean, ‘cause the way she’d said it implied the two of you together, and that was far from the truth. It couldn’t happen. He considered you family, and, “Family doesn’t end with blood,” he’d said, which made you sister Winchester.

Well… not quite. No habit. A tattoo. Josie was far closer to one of them before she became, you know, and Chuck dang it. This shit was messing with your head.

Nuns. Winchesters. You and Dean. Didn’t help that you had caught a gander at what was below his nightgown that morning.

Yeah… Families don’t seek that out.

They also don’t think about it after the fact, but ever since Mrs Butters’ little chat in the kitchen, that’s where your mind was going. Every. Time. You. Saw. Him.

You were more perverted than he was, and carrying the homemade special sauce you’d made to the dinner table that night wasn’t helping.

You stepped up the small step into the library with as much care as you could muster, not wanting to trip in front of the guys. Read, not trying to trip in front of Dean. Screw the pretty gravy boat you carried that Mrs Butters must’ve whipped out of her ass, too.

“This is Mrs Butters’ special sauce,” you said to Sam with a grin, who swiped his tongue over the inside of his cheek.

Dean, as you’d hoped, was more appreciative of the opening you’d thrown at him. You’d chosen your words after all, knowing he’d make something of it and he didn’t disappoint.

He stood up from his seat to inspect the genie’s lamp-like piece as you placed it in the centre of the first table next to the gravy and giant ham. His hand, finding your shoulder as he did with an electrifying touch.

“Dunno what you were hoping for, Sammy, but be glad it ain’t white.”

“Not funny.” Sam shuffled in his seat.

You couldn’t help the snort at his scowl. Your gut couldn’t help the flip at the contact of Dean’s firm grip on your shoulder, either. He was so close, you could smell the gas station aftershave on his clothes over the array of food, and you held your breath.

What the fuck was wrong with you?

You’d admit it was creepy, but Mrs Butters took the whole Christmas cake.

“Oh! Oh! Dears!” she shrieked in glee as she shuffled up to the small step herself to join you. Jack trailing along behind with a stack of plates. “Look.” She clapped her hands, darting her beady eyes upwards. Giving you all no choice but to do the same out of curiosity.

Dear god. “What’s that?” you asked, though your gut flipped again at the inkling. Like the sieve and the gravy boat, the bunch of pale green leaves were new, and it could only mean one thing.

Sam’s body shuddering in a fit of laughter further confirmed it.

That was not there before, and Mrs Butters sure looked pleased with herself.

Course she’d made it. Who wouldn’t be proud? Her heels clipped the wooden floorboards as she bounced on the spot. Hands, no longer clapping but balled into fists as she shook them in the air.

“Well. Go ahead! I see a lady standing under the mistletoe, Dean.”

And what was a kiss amongst friends? Siblings? You’d let Dean peck you on the cheek if that would get her off your case, and you turned it to him and poked it with your finger. “C’mon Deano. This sweet skin ain’t gonna kiss itself.”

Thank Chuck he found it funny, too.

“Right,” he said, and even wagged his brows as he swooped in, letting in all that glittered into those brilliant greens of his.

It was soft and quick and a terrible idea. Made worse when you patted him on his own shoulder and commended him for his effort. “Not bad.” You fanned yourself for added effect. “No wonder all the girls all fawn over you, huh?”

Could you shut up now? That was cruel to him and you, but it would seem poking bears had become your speciality. Only this time, this one bit you back.

He huffed. Shook his head with his own tsk of his tongue, and then brought it and his pouty lips down to yours with no time to react.

Whisky. Sugar. Tingles in all the wrong places. Your foot might’ve popped like a scene in a cheesy movie if it weren’t for the chairs in the road. It was soft and quick and a terrible idea on his part, because while he was very much pleased with himself, you couldn’t look at him straight after that.

Dean.

Dean, Dean.

His name was easy on your tongue, and he on your eyes.

Through dinner, desert, cleaning up, and Die Hard, they feasted upon his form when he wasn’t looking.

Yes, you perverted son of a bitch. You couldn’t even do it like you knew he would. Which meant he wasn’t interested, and you could live with that.

But could Mrs B?

She was meddlesome, and maddening, and she’d tucked your sheets in way too tight to the point they were keeping you awake. Yes. It was her and them alright, and not your hang-up on Dean.

No. Thanks to her, your toes made little mountains that stretched the fabric over your needed-to-know basis legs. The little hairs moving underneath prickled your skin much like a certain someone’s scruff had brushed over your chin and cheek earlier.

The freckles on his nose. Remnants of his cheap aftershave in yours. Hell, stepping out of your room would give you a real good whiff of the smoke and spice with your door only three down the hall from his.

But would that make you feel better? God no, but you abso-fucking-lutely gave into the urge and exerted yourself outta bed. You needed a cold drink to cool your jets and soothe your fuzzy insides, anyway. A stiff one, even better, and you stormed out into the hall in search of it all.

Anything to clear your head.

Only every turn you took towards the kitchen found newer Christmas decorations that weren’t there when you’d bid everyone goodnight before. Tinsel here. Glitter there. Mistletoe everywhere, and your brain turned plant hunter and gatherer, decking the halls with forceful fists of fury.

No more kisses could happen, no matter how innocent Mrs Butters made them appear. Apparitions would remain food related, and when you and your burden made it to the kitchen’s trash can, you wanted to jump in, too.

“Everything okay, dear?” Mrs Butters said with a grin that rivaled Dean’s. The exact one he had on his face, sitting across from her.

Fuck.

His disheveled hair, fresh and damp from a shower. His tight-fitting Henley rolled at the sleeves… Water. You needed that water for your throat yesterday.

“Can’t sleep either, sweetheart?” he asked.

Sweetheart. What a delectable sound.

“I, ah… no.” You waltzed over to the cupboard that held the glasses, opening it up, only to find none there. If you were a glass, where would she have put you?

“Where are the—”

A tall tumbler full of water popped onto the shelf before your eyes.

Right…

“Would you like some eggnog?” Mrs Butters beamed, but before you could respond, a second glass, full of the stuff, apparated, too, and you stood there stunned.

“Thanks,” you whispered. Mind and soul depleted of all life, and needing the protein.

You picked them both up with a touch of caution and made your way to the table, soon finding yourself having to choose between the lesser of two evils. Sit next to him or her?

“You’re not wearing the housecoat I left out for you,” sealed the deal.

Dean was safer, and taking the seat on the stool next to him, had you sweeping over your chest as you settled.

You were braless, but your top was thick enough to cover your nips at least. “Didn’t fit,” you said, slurping a mouthful of eggnog straight after to keep the rest of your thoughts at bay.

The stuff was potent. The aftertaste choked you on its path down.

“What’s in this?” you asked at the end of your splutter, as Dean’s palm made contact between your shoulder blades this time. Honestly, it’s what you needed, the kick, not his heavy hand on your back, but Mrs Butters’ continual beaming had you at unease.

“It’s a secret.” She winked before standing up with yet another clap of her hands. “I’ll leave you two to finish your drinks. Don’t stay up too late. We’ll open the remaining presents in the morning.”

And with that, the whirlwind that was the old wood nymph was out the door, leaving you alone with the man you weren’t supposed to be thinking about.

“Isn’t she awesome?” he said.

“Sure makes things interesting.” You took another gulp of your eggnog. It was easier on the throat the second time around, and if it kept your mouth occupied, and your eyes away from Dean’s, you’d drink it all.

But he hummed, and you drew to it like a moth to a flame. That deep rumble. The way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat when he spoke.

“You still think she’s out to get you or something?”

Did you? Though unspoken, she had remarks on your wardrobe and the fact that you weren’t the pin up for a 1950s housewife right outta Stepford. She’d pulled the mistletoe stunt, and brought on this strange fascination with Dean, but she’d done nothing harmful per se. Just… weird.

So what was it? What couldn’t you put your finger on besides the glass of eggnog?

“You know how you’re always going with your gut?” you said, braving a glance his way.

He nodded.

“I just can’t shake this feeling that there’s something else going on besides the special sauce.”

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Read on AO3—————————————————————Thank you so much for reading!

Up next in Part 2

Having had enough of his antics, Sam pushed it aside and marched in. He scanned the room the second he had, finding Dean and his purple nightgown with ease.

It was hard not to miss.

As was his one-eyed-snake, reddened and sticking out from under it.

“Dude.” He… He… “Would you put that thing away?”

Thank Chuck, Dean listened to that instruction. It was bad enough seeing it before in the kitchen, not hard. This was… This was… “What the hell do you want me for?” And what was he supposed to tell Eileen?

“It’s stuck.”

It… “What do you mean it’s stuck? Just beat it out and go to sleep.” —————————————————————

DEAN TAGLIST:

@globetrotter28 @ambiguous-avery @arcannaa @jollyhunter @zepskies

@reluctanthalfwayoptimism @supernotnatural2005 @jackles010378 @kaz-2y5-spn

If you'd like to be tagged, please Imk.

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pinkeos · 4 months ago

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MDNI.

mr reca brainrot. kinda a give and take relationship. rushed and amab reader/afab mr reca!!

To say your rise to stardom was a coincidence because you had a pretty face with some acting skills and happened to be scouted by Mr Reca would be true. Only partially, though.

But of course the public didn't have to know that that was merely a part of your success. And that you'd fuck the shit out of your beloved director to make sure you got some good roles for his films, or he'd refer you to other directors as well.

However, Mr Reca just doesn't give you roles because you sleep with him, he knows you have some talent and skill in you. You've always had a good tongue, both when it came to delivering your scripts and at licking at his clit until it's all puffy and swollen from the attention.

You're a good actor, he knows that well enough after you acted so angry at him and pounded him so roughly that it managed to convince him you actually were mad. He knows you're good at improv, too. What with the way you whispered such dirty filth in his ears while the tip of your cock kissed his cervix.

You're so good with your acting that he actually believes it for a split second whenever you kiss his tears away so sweetly and whisper how much you love him. At the end of the day, however, he knows you're just sticking to a script to ensure your place amongst the hall of renowned performers.

He knows that. He knows you take advantage of one another. But he'll be damned if he let this little play end.

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail fanfic #x reader #mr reca #mr reca hsr #mr reca x reader #mr reca x amab reader #mr reca x male reader #afab mr reca #*drops this and runs*#i love him so much #he's so silly

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peteypiessuperfamily · 1 year ago

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Big big fan of SI employees being intimidated by Tony at first because wtf iron man is my boss but then a couple months into the job they see Tony in the same room as Steve and realize he's just a science nerd with a big dorky crush on Captain America there's nothing to fear he's just like us fr

#youre in love with captain america??#mr stark #get in line #stony #stevetony #tony stark #steve rogers #captain america #iron man #superhusbands #ao3 #fanfic #ironshield #i might write a fic lowkey #and yes si employees includes peter #stark industries

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yourssinfullyquiche · 1 year ago

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Night

Hello, all you beautiful people🥰 Another installment in the 4 part Gavin (s.e.x) series. Yes, I was supposed to do Afternoon and Evening first but I'm still writing Afternoon and Evening has yet to be written. So...let's just skip to Night, shall we?

This is an NSFW work, and it's also a little angsty. I had to. I was desperate for angst TW: Unprotected sex, and...nothing else. I'm so bad at this

I come out of the bathroom, fresh as a dewdrop and see Gavin against the headboard of the bed, clothed in his tee and shorts, reading papers with his glasses on. It’s never used often, those glasses. Kept in a black zipped case, it remains on the bedside table ready for use when he wants to. Rather, when he has a splitting headache after reading too much too closely. Though, there are times when he adorns those golden spectacles for the surprised glint in my eyes that leads to heat spreading to my cheeks which results in me tugging my bottom lip with my teeth.

I have an inkling of why it’s there today because the second I emerge from my shower, his eyes meet mine immediately in a gaze that tells me he’s not OK. It’s the kind where his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. Behind that gaze is the lethargy of his recent mission that ended after a month, a sadness of which he has experienced that he’s yet to tell me. He looks like he’s about to cry driven by fear of loss. Ringed with dark circles, the reports he ought to be reading are abandoned with an unfocused mind.

I stride towards Gavin, with a resolve of eliminating the feelings which feed into that look. He puts the papers aside and the spectacles on it, arms at his side to welcome my presence on his body. I don’t even bother changing into my pyjamas, only removing my bathrobe and tossing it onto the chair, knowing that his clothes would be strewn all over the floor. Clad only in my delicates, my legs straddle his hips. He cups my behind and pushes me up, securing me comfortably above him, levelled to his face. My hair falls encasing us in a curtain of floral vanilla scent—a secret reprieve, only the two of us share.

Our hands fiddle with our clothes—mine are gone in no time, my fingers move on to his shorts, pull it down in one go and throw it haphazardly. He’s bare and chuckling when he looks at me. “Don’t worry, the other half of my body won’t dare run away.”

The delivery of that line should have me laughing but his voice is as empty as a hollow tree, something he tries to mask with cheekiness but fails. Though it twinges within, I don’t point it out. Instead I reciprocate with the intended cadence and smack his chest lightly, “I’ll be sure to use that line when you tear my clothes in shreds.”

He purposely averts his eyes all innocently with a satisfied smile on his face. The back of my fingers absentmindedly runs over his cheek as he tucks the spilling locks of my hair to one side. “What’s on your mind?” I ask.

There, it’s that look again. That look in his eyes tells me he’s so afraid. He breathes heavily and pulls me closer into his warm embrace, protectively cradling the back of my head. I wait for his shaky breaths to dwindle and answer though I know it won’t come as easily. I look back at him to see his eyes glisten wistfully and then he says, “I’m so happy that you’re here with me.”

My face twists first into confusion and then understanding. I don’t pry further because that one line tells me everything I need to know. A smile forms on my face as I cup his cheeks. “There’s no place I will be than in your arms, my love.”

The smile he gives me is loving and grateful as he brings me into his embrace once more. There’s a small lump forming in my throat, but I swallow it. There will be no tears for now, not when he needs my strength—and it comes full force as my fingers ghost over the deep lines on his body

All sizes with pains that ache my heart. I dance over the fresh gash across his sternum like they’re hot coals burning my fingers. Yes, it burns. It burns my entire being, makes my blood boil that he has to put himself through countless horrors—yes it is not deep, but the marking remains sufficiently angry to leave a scar crossing both his pecs.

My thoughts halt when he looks at me with a pensive gaze. I remind myself that anger is not what I need now as well. I’ll not let him have the chance to comfort me, not when he’s clearly in need of some love. So, before he utters anything, I kiss lips, one he gladly sinks into. Desperate and breathless it becomes and it makes me float, taking away my mind that would eventually travel down the path of bitter horrifying stories it conjures.

I caress his cheek with the back of my knuckles. Kiss all over his face. He chuckles as I flutter my eyelashes across his skin. I look into his eyes, tired but always exuding gentle love that sends a rush of warmth through my body.

No words leave my lips, it only moves to join his again. Our kisses are unhurried and languid, a sweet dance. We save exploring each other’s bodies for another day, for today we yearn only for the warmth such nakedness provides. I raise and sink slowly down his cock. The chorus of sounds leave our lips at the pleasure of fullness we both feel, feeling so close to one another, the warmth that one can only feel when they’re skin to skin.

One of his hands stays resting on my bottom and the other sneaks up to hold my nape, mine finds its way to the soft strands of his hair, and they stay put for anchor. I feel him engorged and pulsing in me. The burn of my core, the stickiness my legs feel and the incredible need to rise and slam hard into his body. I ignore all the impulse, instead we rock our bodies to a slow rhythm. Moving together and savouring the deliberate thrusts.

Gavin’s lips caress my neck until they land at the corner of mine. “You feel so good,” he whispers against my lips, choking my sighs once more in a reverent kiss. Tonight, I let my lips take away his grief, my body take away his pain. Perhaps after, words will be shared once more, dead in the twilight wrapped around in sheets heated by the warmth of our bodies.

The waves of pleasure crests within us yet we never hasten. I feel the usual jolt in my tummy, one look at him tells me we’re both about to fall over the cliff. “Together,” I tell him and he’s about to pull away when I stop him, clamping down. “I want it inside.” He stills, eyes wide as he stares at me for a few seconds. The question is clear. Are you sure?

Softly he asks to confirm his thoughts, “Is that what you want or are you doing this because you think I want it?”

I yearn, and perhaps I am doing this for him. But I don’t care. I know he’s the man I want to spend all my nights with wrapped in our sheets, the only one whose golden eyes I ache to meet when I wake. Somehow I know he needs that as well. To be so close to one another until the air we breathe diminishes.

“I want it…,” breathlessly it dispels from my lips.

I look at him and his eyes are glassy and dark to a deep shade of bourbon as he kisses my forehead.

“Then come with me,” says Gavin.

We’re in one tight embrace as our bodies rock once more—a little faster, and within a few seconds we come undone in a gentle rush. I have no plans to move, to feel the emptiness that will instantly wash over—he doesn’t either when his hands stay tight around me. I feel the warmth of the duvet around my skin as we kiss goodnight and say I love yous before we drift to a slumber.

A/N: Thank you for reading❤️ Updates will be quite slow since I'm working now. I had this piece in the drafts as I wrote it immediately after Morning. I waited so long only because I wanted to post it by order but the Afternoon piece is taking longer than expected. It's really out of my comfort zone, so writing it has been a slow process. To those of you reading, I appreciate your patience~

Credits to @cafekitsune for the lovely dividers😚

Taglist: @playheej@purple-cat-demon@rinharu-purple (if you want to join my taglist, please visit my blog and click the link available on my pinned post)

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jazzy96scorpio · 21 days ago

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Teacher's pet

Chapter 1 My teacher is a DILF

Description: This is a story about a girl [You] who's super into her hot, older history teacher. You got a whole notebook full of fantasies about him. Things get steamy between you two and even though it's kinda taboo, you fall hard for each other. It's a rollercoaster of secret hookups, jealous moments, and eventually, you end up together. It's a bit naughty, a bit sweet, and definitely a story about going after what you want, even if it's a little scandalous.

Pairing: You / Mr Ben Miller Teacher

Warnings ⚠️: adult content, dirty talk, phone sex, oral sex (m/f receiving), first time sex, reader is virgin, fluff, age gap (legally 😉), unprotected sex, teacher kink, SMUT.

Word count: 7,200

The early morning light is breaking into your bedroom. Your mom's voice, a forceful crackle in the otherwise peaceful silence, startled you awake.

"Get up! You're going to be late for school!"

You mumbled something that sounded vaguely like "I'm awake," hoping it would be enough to appease her. But the warmth of your pillow and the lingering scent of sleep were too inviting. Your eyelids fluttered shut, and you drifted back into the sleep.

You knew you should get up. You knew you'd be in trouble if you were late. But the allure of sleep was simply too strong.

You jolted awake, the sound of your mom's voice still echoing faintly in your ears. You glanced at the clock on your nightstand. "Shit!" you exclaimed, scrambling out of bed.

Panic surged through you. You were already late! You threw on the first clothes you could find, brushing your teeth, and quickly combed your hair. Grabbing your backpack, you rushed out the door, your heart pounding in your chest.

You hopped on your bike, the cool morning air whipping through your hair. You pedaled furiously, the school looming closer with every desperate stroke. Your phone rang, and you saw it was your best friend, Sarah.

"Where are you, girl?" Sarah's voice, laced with a hint of panic, crackled through the receiver. "Class is about to start! Hurry up!"

"I'm on my way, I'm on my way!" you gasped, your voice breathless. "I overslept!"

You hung up the phone and pushed harder on the pedals, your legs burning. You could almost see the school gates now, a beacon of relief and dread. You were late, but you were going to make it.

You skidded to a stop in front of the school entrance, seeing Pedro, school janitor. He was busy fixing a wobbly leg on one of the benches, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"You're late again, miss," he chuckled, his voice gruff but friendly. "You're losing the bet."

You grinned, still catching your breath.

"Okay, Pedro, you win again."

You were almost at the door, your heart still racing from the sprint. As you glanced at Pedro, a figure emerged from the shadows. BAM! You collided with him, the impact sending a jolt through your entire body.

He caught you, his arms instinctively wrapping around you to prevent a nasty fall. You stumbled, dropping your phone with a clatter. He dropped his suitcase with a thud.

"Whoa there," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "Where are you rushing off to?"

You looked up, your breath catching in your throat. Standing before you was a man who looked like he'd stepped out of a magazine. Handsome, with a touch of gray at his temples, he exuded an effortless charisma that left you speechless.

Your mind, however, was anything but.

"OMG," you thought, "DILF, DILF, DILF!"

Oh dear. He was still holding you. You quickly realized the absurdity of your inner monologue and blushed furiously, trying to pull yourself from his surprisingly strong grip.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry, sir!" you exclaimed, your face burning. "I'm late for class."

You quickly bent down and picked up his suitcase, then scrambled to retrieve your phone. As you handed him the suitcase, your fingers brushed against his, sending a jolt of electricity through you. You swore you could feel the warmth radiating from his skin.

"Apology accepted," he said, his voice a low chuckle. He gestured towards the doorway with his left hand, a silent invitation for you to enter first. "Ladies first" he says.

"Fuck," you thought, He's a gentleman too.

Your face felt like it was on fire. You mumbled another apology and slipped past him, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. You glanced back at him, and he was watching you with an amused glint in his eyes.

You burst into the classroom, sliding into the seat next to Sarah.

"You made it on time!" she exclaimed, noticing your flushed cheeks and the way you were trembling slightly. "What happened out there? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. "OMG, girl, I just ran into a DILF!" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"And shit, he was holding me!"

Sarah burst out laughing. "Lucky you!" she giggled. "He must have been quite the sight."

Then she leaned closer. "We got news girl," she said, "They say we have a new history teacher today. Old Mr. Downey is sick. He retired."

"Thank God," you muttered, shuddering at the memory of Mr. Downey's peculiar odor. "That man smelled like a combination of old gym socks and pickled onions."

Sarah laughed again. "Well, let's hope the new teacher is an improvement. Maybe he'll be young and handsome."

You couldn't help but think of the man you'd just collided with. "Maybe," you murmured, a mischievous glint entering your eyes.

"Maybe he'll be even better than young and handsome."

And just as you were thinking that, the classroom door swung open, revealing the new history teacher.

To your surprise, it was him.

The man you'd collided with.

The man who had sent your heart racing and your mind reeling.

The man who, you now realized, was far more than just a "DILF."

He was breathtaking.

And he was your new history teacher.

😲 💓

Your heart plummeted to your stomach. "Shit," you whispered, "I'm fucked up."

Mr. Ben Miller entered the classroom, his gaze sweeping across the room as he placed his briefcase on the teacher's desk. He introduced himself with a calm and confident voice, his gaze lingering on you for a fraction of a second longer than on the others. You ducked behind Sarah, hoping he hadn't noticed you.

"Let's open our textbooks," he said, his voice a soothing baritone. "We'll continue with the lecture from where Mr. Downey left off. I'll be calling on each of you to introduce yourselves."

Your stomach did a flip-flop. He was going to call on you. You were going to have to speak to him, look him in the eyes, after that… that… accident.

The introductions went by in a blur. You watched with a mixture of dread and fascination as your classmates introduced themselves, some shy, some confident, some downright bizarre. And then, it was your turn.

"And finally," Mr. Miller said, his gaze sweeping across the room until it landed on you. "Miss…?"

You stood up, your legs trembling. "Miss… uh…" You couldn't seem to find your voice.

"Miss…?" Mr. Miller prompted gently, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Miss… [Y/N]," you finally managed to squeak out, your voice barely audible.

"Oh, hello Miss Late to the Class," Mr. Miller said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

"Shit… shit…" you thought.

"Nice name," he continued, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I hope you won't be late to my classes again, Miss [Y/N]."

You mumbled a quick "I won't, sir," and quickly sat down, feeling utterly humiliated.

As you sat down, Sarah nudged you with her elbow. "Gurrrrl," she whispered, her eyes wide with amusement, "You bumped into Mr. Miller! You are SO fucked up this year."

You groaned. "I know," you muttered, "He's going to hate me."

But then, a mischievous glint entered your eyes. "At least I'll enjoy the view," you whispered, a sly grin spreading across your face.

Sarah burst out laughing. "You are so weird," she giggled. "I don't know why you like older men."

You shrugged, a dreamy expression on your face. "Darling, look at those arms," you sighed dramatically. "Those big hands…FUCK, his neck and jaw… OMG, what he would do with those lips… that gray beard…" You trailed off, realizing you might have gotten a little carried away. "Okay, okay, I'll stop," you mumbled, blushing furiously. "I'm crazy, I know."

Sarah continued to giggle, shaking her head. "You are something else," she said, but a mischievous glint entered her own eyes. "I wonder if he'll notice you too."

You felt a blush creep up your neck. "Don't even," you muttered, though a small part of you secretly hoped that maybe, just maybe, he would.

As class ended, you rushed out of the classroom, escaping Mr. Miller's lingering gaze. You were a little flustered, but also oddly excited. You had never felt such a strong attraction to anyone before.

Outside, you found Sarah waiting for you. "Ready to go?" she asked, a mischievous grin on her face.

"Actually," you said, a blush creeping up your cheeks, "I was wondering if you'd like to come to my place."

Sarah's eyes widened. "Really?" she asked, a hint of surprise in her voice. "Pizza?"

"Of course," you replied, a smile spreading across your face. "Pizza and a movie. Just the two of us."

Sarah hesitated for a moment, then a mischievous grin spread across her face. "Deal," she said, "but only if you make the pizza."

You laughed. "Challenge accepted," you said, and together, you walked towards your house.

Chapter 2 Dreams

You both arrived at your house, soon after the scent of pizza filling the air. While you busied yourself in the kitchen, Sarah settled down at your desk, seemingly engrossed in your homework.

After a delicious pizza dinner, you retreated to your room, settling onto your bed. You chatted for a while, catching up on the latest gossip and sharing funny stories. Then, Sarah let out a startled gasp.

"What's this?" she exclaimed, holding up your notebook.

You felt your heart sink. "Oh no," you muttered.

Sarah was staring intently at a page filled with… well, let's just say your "admiration" for older men. "DILF's?" she read aloud, her eyes widening. "Really?"

You groaned. "It's just a list of men I like." You mumbled the last part, feeling your cheeks burn.

Sarah's eyes widened. "You have a whole list of them?" she asked, her voice dripping with amusement.

You buried your face in your hands. "Don't judge!" you pleaded.

Sarah burst out laughing, the sound echoing through your room. "Oh my god," she gasped, "You are so weird!"

"Come on," you said, a mischievous glint in your eye, "Let's play 'Smash or Pass'."

"Smash or Pass?" Sarah raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "With pictures?"

"Yep," you grinned, pulling out a magazine you'd been collecting. "I've got some… interesting choices."

Sarah opened the notebook and began flipping through the pages. "Okay," she said, "Let's see…"

The first picture was of George Clooney. "Pass," Sarah declared without hesitation.

"Smash!" you exclaimed.

Next was Robert Downey Jr. "Smash," Sarah said decisively.

"Smash baby!" you cheered.

Then came Pedro Pascal. "Smash!" Sarah exclaimed, grinning.

"Double Smash!" you declared, earning a laugh from Sarah.

"You know," Sarah said, a thoughtful expression on her face, "You should add Mr. Miller."

"Oh yeah?" you asked, a playful smirk on your lips.

"Smash," you said confidently.

"Pass," Sarah replied, raising an eyebrow. "He's your teacher, remember?"

"Rules are meant to be broken," you teased, earning a playful shove from Sarah.

And so, the game continued, filled with laughter, playful banter, and a healthy dose of teenage crushes.

🥰

That night, you had a vivid dream. Mr. Miller was there, his arms strong and comforting, holding you close. You woke up with a start, your heart racing. You quickly checked your alarm clock, determined not to be late again.

However, despite your best efforts, you overslept once more. You rushed out of the house, your heart pounding. As you approached the school, you saw Pedro, the janitor.

"Miss, you're losing that bet," he chuckled, his voice gruff but friendly.

"Okay, okay, what do I owe you this time?" you asked, already anticipating the task.

"The library," Pedro said, "I need to fix some shelves. If you could help me move some books around, that would be a great help."

"Sure thing, Pedro," you replied. "But you better bring coffee."

Pedro chuckled and nodded. "See you there, miss."

You smiled. Helping Pedro always made you feel good. He reminded you of your grandfather, a kind and lonely man who had always shown you kindness.

You entered the school building, a little flustered from your late start. Mr Miller overhead your conversation while he was leaving his car.

He approached Pedro and asked him "Why does she want to help you?" Mr. Miller's voice, deep and resonant, cut through the morning air.

Pedro chuckled. "She's the kindest girl I've met in this school, Mr. Miller. We have a little bet. If she's late, she has to help me with something around the school. She hasn't won a single bet this year"

📖

After classes, you headed to the library, eager to fulfill your "punishment." You found Pedro already there, a steaming cup of coffee waiting for you. You spent the next hour working together, joking and laughing as you moved books and organized the shelves. You even stumbled upon some fascinating old books, losing yourself in their pages for a moment.

Suddenly, the library door swung open and Mr. Miller stepped inside. "Good afternoon," he greeted you both, his eyes twinkling. "I was hoping to find a particular book here. Perhaps one of you can help me?"

You looked at Pedro, who shrugged.

"She's the history buff," Pedro said, gesturing towards you. "She knows more about these old books than I do."

Mr. Miller smiled. "Then I shall trouble you, Miss [Y/N]. I'm looking for information on…"

He paused, searching his briefcase,"…a local historian named Elias Thorne."

You felt a surge of excitement. "Elias Thorne? I know a bit about him! He wrote a fascinating book on the history of this town. Let me see…"

And so, you spent the next few minutes guiding Mr. Miller through the library archives, helping him locate the book he sought. You felt a strange sense of satisfaction, enjoying the opportunity to impress him with your knowledge.

You handed the book to Mr. Miller, a small smile playing on your lips. "Here you go, sir."

He took the book, his eyes lingering on you for a moment. "You seem to know your way around these old books," he commented, a hint of admiration in his voice.

"I guess I do," you shrugged, feeling a blush creep up your neck.

Mr. Miller seemed intrigued. "You mentioned something about losing a bet earlier?" he asked, his gaze curious. "Why do you lose these bets every morning?"

You hesitated, then decided to be honest. "I'm not really a morning person," you confessed, "I'm more of a night owl. And… well, Pedro… he's a bit lonely. He doesn't have much family, and I enjoy spending time with him. So, we made a deal. If I'm late, I help him with something around the school."

Mr. Miller looked at you, a thoughtful expression on his face. He seemed genuinely surprised. "That's… very kind of you," he said quietly.

"It's no big deal," you shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious under his intense gaze.

"Well," Mr. Miller said, a slow smile spreading across his face, "I think I'll make a bet with you too."

Your heart skipped a beat. "A bet?" you echoed, your voice trembling slightly.

Mr. Miller leaned closer, his eyes twinkling. "If you're on time to class for the rest of the week," he said, "I will buy you a little gift every day."

"Okay," you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. "No problem."

💓

The next few days were a rollercoaster of emotions. You were still prone to your occasional late arrivals to other classes, but you were determined not to let Mr. Miller down. You set multiple alarms, double-checked your schedule, and even resorted to sleeping with your backpack by the door.

Despite your best efforts, you almost tripped over your own feet rushing out the door one morning, convinced you were late for Mr. Miller's class. You arrived breathless, heart pounding, only to find him already there, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Made it," you panted, feeling a blush creep up your neck.

Mr. Miller raised an eyebrow. "Just barely," he observed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "But you made it."

That was most exciting week of your school year. Each day, Mr. Miller presented you with a small gift. On Monday, it was a beautifully illustrated book of poetry. On Tuesday, a box of the finest chocolates you'd ever tasted. Wednesday brought a small, intricately carved wooden bird, a reminder of your first encounter with Pedro.

You found yourself anticipating his class more and more each day, not just for the lesson, but also for the small surprise that awaited you. You even started arriving to class a few minutes early, just to savor the anticipation.

Then came Friday. You arrived to class on time, of course, and eagerly awaited your gift. Mr. Miller smiled, pulled a small bag from his briefcase, and handed it to you.

Inside, you found a colorful assortment of lollipops. You couldn't help but laugh. "Lollipops?" you asked, a playful smile on your face.

Mr. Miller shrugged. "A classic," he said, his eyes twinkling. "Besides," he added, leaning closer, "They're a reminder to always keep things sweet."

You felt a blush creep up your neck. Mr. Miller's words, and the unexpected gift, made your heart flutter. This week had been an unexpected adventure, filled with laughter, learning, and a growing sense of connection with your enigmatic teacher.

Chapter 3 Lollipop

You were deep in concentration, swirling your lollipop around in your mouth as you tackled a particularly challenging history question. You were so engrossed that you didn't notice Mr. Miller watching you.

When you finally looked up, you found him standing right in front of you, his eyes twinkling. He tapped his fingers lightly on your desk, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Come on," he said, "you have fifteen more minutes. Finish your test."

He returned to his desk, sitting down and turning to face you. "Miss… [Y/N]," he said, his voice a low rumble, "I think that… food isn't allowed in the class."

You quickly pulled the lollipop from your mouth, a loud "POP" echoing through the quiet classroom. "I-I apologize, Mr. Miller," you stammered, feeling your cheeks burn.

You stood up and quickly threw the lollipop in the trash bin. "I'm so sorry," you repeated,

"I didn't mean to… I wasn't paying attention."

Mr. Miller watched you, his expression unreadable. "It's not okay to waste food like that," he said, his voice firm but not unkind.

"I know," you mumbled, feeling a pang of guilt. "Those were my favorites, though."

"Well," Mr. Miller said, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"You should have finish that."

You felt a blush creep up your neck. Mr. Miller, your usually composed teacher, seemed a little flustered. You could clearly see him discreetly adjusting his pants with his left hand, and it was impossible to ignore the… bulge… beneath the fabric. Was he…was he having an erection?

You felt a mixture of shock, embarrassment, and an unexpected thrill.

You sat down, your entire body feeling like it was on fire. You tried to focus on your test, but your mind kept drifting back to Mr. Miller and his… adjustment.

You wondered if he noticed you noticing him.

As the class filed out, you handed your test to Mr. Miller and started to leave.

"Miss [Your Name]," he called out, his voice stopping you in your tracks.

"Can you stay for a moment? You missed something on your test."

You turned around, suddenly feeling a knot of nerves tighten in your stomach. You were alone in the classroom with him. "OMG, FUCK," you thought, your mind racing.

You approached his desk, trying to maintain your composure. He pointed to the top of the page. "You forgot to write your name."

Relief washed over you, followed by a wave of embarrassment. You quickly scribbled your name on the test, feeling your cheeks burn.

"Right," you mumbled, feeling awkward under his gaze.

Mr. Miller smiled, a slow and knowing smile that sent shivers down your spine. "Don't worry about it," he said, his voice low and husky. "Just… don't forget it next time."

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze lingering on you. You noticed a glint in his eyes, a playful challenge that made your breath catch in your throat.

As you reached to give back his pen to him, it slipped from his hand.

Your fingers brushed against his hand. A jolt, a spark, something electric passed between you. You quickly pulled back, your cheeks burning.

Mr. Miller looked at you, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Seems we're both a little clumsy today," he murmured, his voice husky.

Mr. Miller leaned down to reach it, but he seemed to miss it on purpose. The pen rolled further under the table, out of reach.

"I'm so sorry," you apologized, feeling your cheeks burn.

Mr. Miller chuckled. "No problem," he said, his voice low and husky. He tried to reach for it, but his long arms weren't quite long enough.

"Mind helping me retrieve it?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.

You hesitated for a moment, then slowly knelt down, peering under the table.

"Can you please move a little bit so I can go under the table reach it?" you asked.

Mr. Miller shifted slightly in his chair, making room for you to crawl underneath. As you reached for the pen, your head bumped against the table with a loud "Fuck!"

Mr. Miller chuckled. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You were on your knees in front of him, your head throbbing slightly. "I think so," you mumbled, feeling disoriented.

As you tried to stand up, you stumbled and instinctively grabbed onto his knees to steady yourself. You felt the hard muscles beneath his pants, and a jolt of awareness shot through you.

Mr. Miller's eyes widened slightly, and he froze, his hand hovering near your arm.

The air between you was thick with unspoken tension.

You looked at him. He took your hand in his guiding it towards his bulge in his pants. He was so hard. You gently squeeze him. He moaned, closing his eyes. Your heart pounding like crazy. He enjoyed in your touches. Then he opened his eyes looking at you saying

"See what you do to me Miss...", then he added "Come on, don't be afraid"

Your panties was already soaked. You unbuckled his belt pulling down his boxers. You took his huge cock in your tiny hand, slowly rubbing him on his tip with your finger. He let out low moan. You continued your movements along his length. You leaned down to his tip, licking it. His eyes were on yours.

He gently took your hair holding it with his hand. He says "Please put it in, I wanna feel your sweet mouth." And you did as he asked.

He growled for every your move, every twirling of your tongue. You could feel his cock twitched at your harder thrust. You were going deeper. Your saliva dripping down. When he was so close.

You heard some voices approaching from the hallway. You quickly pulled him out of your mouth. He hears that POP again.

"I'm sorry, I need to go," you said abruptly, feeling a sudden rush of adrenaline. You quickly gathered your things, your mind racing.

Mr. Miller watched you, a worried expression on his face. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low and concerned.

"Yes, I… I think I hear someone," you mumbled, feeling a strange sense of urgency.

You hurried out of the classroom, leaving Mr. Miller alone. He quickly stuffed his cock leaking with cum in his pants.

He stood up to the door his gaze following you as you disappeared down the hallway. You felt a strange mixture of excitement and apprehension as you walked away, the memory of the unexpected actions lingering in your mind.

You wondered if he would mention it later, or if it would simply remain an unspoken memory between you, and he wondered too.

💜

You arrived home feeling a whirlwind of emotions. The encounter with Mr. Miller had left you breathless, a strange mixture of excitement and apprehension swirling within you. You spent the next few minutes recounting the events of the afternoon in your mind, replaying every detail, every glance, every word.

To calm your racing heart, you decided to take a hot shower. Even under the warm water, you couldn't shake off the memory of his touch, his huge cock in your mouth. Why do I want it again so badly. You asked yourself. A wave of self-consciousness washed over you. You felt a little ashamed, a little giddy, a little… you didn't know what.

Just as you were starting to feel a little more grounded, your phone rang. It was Sarah.

"Hey! I'm coming over," she announced.

You smiled. Having Sarah around would be a welcome distraction.

Sarah arrived, and you two settled onto your bed, putting on some music. You laughed and joked, talking about your day.

Sarah, ever the inquisitive one, leaned forward, her eyes twinkling. "So, what happened with Mr. Miller today? Did you survive his terrifying glare?"

You blushed, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "Well, I forgot to put my name on the test," you admitted, trying to play it off casually.

Sarah's eyes widened. "Oh no! You didn't!" she exclaimed, her voice full of mock horror. "And I bet you were so flustered you could barely speak." She winked. "Knowing you, you were probably staring at him the whole time."

You blushed even harder, feeling a flutter in your stomach. "Maybe a little," you admitted, trying to hide a smile. You weren't going to tell her about the pen incident, and sucking his cock, not yet.

Sarah laughed, "You're hopeless! But you know, he seems like a pretty cool teacher."

You had to agree with her. Mr. Miller was definitely unlike any teacher you'd ever had before.

Suddenly, Sarah remembered something. "Hey, my uncle is looking for waitresses at his restaurant," she said excitedly. "You should apply! We could work together."

The idea intrigued you. You could help your mom with expenses and start saving for college.

"I'll talk to my mom," you said, your excitement growing.

At dinner, you told your mom about the job opportunity. She listened thoughtfully. "I know it will be hard with school and graduation coming up," she said, "but it could be a good experience for you."

You were determined to make it work. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but the thought of working alongside Sarah and helping your mom made it all worthwhile.

That evening, with Sarah gone, you were left alone with your thoughts. You couldn't stop thinking about Mr. Miller and your moment in the classroom. You felt a strange mix of passion, excitement, and a growing sense of… something more.

Inspired by your thoughts, you pulled out your notebook and started to write. You imagined a fantastical scenario where you and Mr. Miller were characters in a romantic novel, with so much sex scenes and falling deeply in love. You knew it was just a fantasy, a way to explore your feelings without facing the reality of the situation.

The next morning, you overslept again. Panic surged through you as you realized you were late for school. You quickly grabbed your books and rushed out the door, your mind still buzzing with thoughts of Mr. Miller and the fantastical world you had created in your notebook.

📖

"We are done for today," Mr. Miller announced, his voice a low rumble that seemed to fill the room. "We have about fifteen minutes left in class. Feel free to read something quietly if you'd like."

He moved to the front of the room, organizing his papers. You watched him, a strange warmth spreading through you. You had never noticed how broad his shoulders were, or how his hair seemed to curl slightly at the nape of his neck.

You couldn't shake off the memory of his moans, the way his eyes had held yours for that brief, intense moment.

As you reached into your backpack for a book to read, you accidentally bumped against your "DILFs" notebook. "Shit!" you muttered, scrambling to retrieve it before anyone else saw it.

Sarah, ever observant, noticed your panicked movements. "What was that?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

You tried to pull the notebook back, but it was too late. Sarah had already caught a glimpse of the title. "DILFs?" she exclaimed, bursting into laughter. "Oh my god, you did not!" She took the notebook.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "Please don't," you pleaded.

Sarah continued to giggle, shaking her head. "This is the best thing I've seen all week," she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. You knew you were doomed.

Sarah opened the notebook, her eyes widening as she scanned the page. "Wow," she breathed, "This is so naughty girl! You have quite the imagination." "You need to get fucked as soon as possible" she says.

You blushed, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and a strange thrill. "Give it back" you mumbled, trying to snatch the notebook back.

Sarah, however, was already engrossed in the story. "Wait, let me read more!" she insisted.

Just then, Mr. Miller noticed your laughter and approached your table. "Everything alright here?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

"Oh, uh, just… girl talk," you stammered, feeling your cheeks burn.

Sarah, realizing Mr. Miller was approaching, quickly tucked the notebook under the table, her eyes wide with mischief.

Mr. Miller smiled. "Alright then," he said, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.

You felt a shiver down your spine, your heart pounding a little faster.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class. You and Sarah rushed out, caught up in your own conversation and completely forgetting the notebook. You say to her "Dumbass he almost caught us." she laughed at you.

Mr. Miller was packing up his things when he noticed the notebook still tucked under the table. He picked it up, curious.

On the cover, in bold letters, it read: "DILFs." Mr. Miller's eyebrows shot up. He opened the first page, his curiosity piqued.

He quickly realized the notebook belonged to you. He packed it up in his suitcase.

📞

It was late at night. You were scrolling through your phone, mindlessly browsing social media, when your phone rang. You glanced at the screen, surprised to see an unknown number.

"Hello?" you answered cautiously.

"Hello, is it [Y/N]?" a familiar voice asked.

"Yes," you replied, your heart pounding slightly.

"This is Mr. Miller," he said.

"How did you get my number Mr Miller?" you ask.

Then he says "You forgot your notebook in class today."

Shit everything was writed there. Your phone number, address, all your fantasies about him. You taught. ⁰

You felt a jolt of panic. "Oh, my God! I did?"

"Yes," Mr. Miller chuckled. "I found it under the table after class."

You felt a blush creeping up your neck. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Miller. I completely forgot about it."

"I read a couple of the pages," Mr. Miller said, his voice a low rumble. "It has… interesting stories." He paused, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"I was wondering," he continued, "why is my name on your 'DILF' list?"

You felt like your heart stopped for a second. Shock, embarrassment, and a strange thrill washed over you. You were speechless.

"Are you having... fantasies about me?" Mr. Miller asked, his voice low and curious.

You felt your breath catch in your throat.

Mr. Miller's question hung heavy in the air. You felt a wave of dizziness, the world suddenly tilting on its axis.

Then he adds "I like these by the why. Come on answer me"

Then you admitted "Yes...Mr Miller"

Then he asks "Are you thinking about me when you are touching yourself?" He could hear you heavy breathing.

"Yes...Mr Miller" you say.

"Are you doing it right now"...Shit you taught. How he knows. That voice near your hear makes your heart pounding your pussy burning.

"Fuck...Yes! Mr Miller." You added "I'm thinking about your big dick in my mouth right now". You swear you could hear him whimpering and cursing. Shit he was masturbating too you though.

Then you ask him "What are you thinking right now Mr. Miller?" You let an loud moan to tease him.

You started roughly rubbing your clit, you were almost close. Thinking about Mr Miller inside you. You can hear him whimpering on the phone.

"I want to stuff that needy pussy with my cock little Miss [ Y/N]"

Then you let out loud moan. You feel your climax. Mr Miller on the phone whimpering, you imagine him fucking his fist. His huge cock. He was done too.

"Can I get back my notebook tomorrow Mr. Miller" you ask him. He says "Yes" with low voice. "And you will get something more tomorrow".

"See you tomorrow Mr. Miller," you said,

"See you miss," he replied, his voice a low rumble. "Goodnight, [Y/N]."

"Goodnight, Mr. Miller," you said, and then hung up the phone, your mind racing.

🥵

Tomorrow on Mr Ben class he was showing you your test grades. Everyone got good grades, even Sarah.

When Mr. Miller called your name, you approached his desk, your heart sinking as you saw the "F" glaring back at you. "WTF?" you thought, completely bewildered. You had studied so hard for this test and were certain you had aced it.

Mr. Miller noticed your confusion. "I'm concerned about your performance on this test, [Y/N]," he said, his voice gentle but firm.

"I think some extra help might be beneficial." He suggested you attend some after-school tutoring sessions to help you improve your grade.

"Mr. Miller," you said, "I really need to fix this grade.

Mr. Miller nodded. "Certainly," he said. "I'm available for a few minutes after classes if you'd like to go over it."

"Yes I will come" you say.

You waited nervously in the classroom, your heart pounding in your chest. Mr. Miller arrived a few minutes late, apologizing for the delay.

"I had a bit of… unexpected business to attend to," he said.

He moved towards your desk, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.

Then you asked him about test. How did you get lowest grade.

You was feeling a knot of anxiety tightening in your stomach. "I don't understand," you said, "I was sure I got most of the questions right."

Mr. Miller leaned against the desk, his eyes fixed on yours.

"Actually," Mr. Miller said, a slow smile spreading across his face, "You got an A. You were brilliant." He paused, his gaze lingering on you. "But I wanted a few minutes with you to get your notebook back to you."

You stared at him, bewildered. "But… the F?"

Mr. Miller chuckled. "That," he said, "was some old test from another student," he explained, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

He reached for the notebook, his fingers brushing against yours as he handed it to you.

You felt a blush creep up your neck. "Oh," you stammered, feeling a mixture of relief.

Mr. Miller smiled, his yes crinkling at the corners. "You have quite the imagination," he said, a playful lilt to his voice. "Keep writing."

Mr. Ben pulled out a brightly colored lollipop from his jeans pocket,

"You mentioned before these were your favorites," he said with a mischievous glint in his eye. He carefully unwrapped the lollipop. Your heart pounding like crazy.

"Open your mouth, little miss," he whispers, his breath tickling your ear.

And you did as he commanded. You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue. He slapped your tongue with that sweet lollipop. Then he says "Suck it. I want to watch."

You licked that lollipop like it was his cock. He couldn't take his eyes of your mouth.

Then he leaned closer to your ear saying

"I might need to jerk myself off in the toilet after this."

You look at him, those puppies eyes looking at you.

"May I help you with that Mr Miller?"

He says with a smile "I would like to, but where my sweetheart?"

"I know the perfect secret spot. Follow me." You stood up, the lollipop still firmly planted in your mouth. You paused, a playful challenge in your voice, "Hurry up!"

Mr Ben, already intrigued, grinned and quickly gathered his things. He followed you down the hallway, his eyes wide with anticipation.

You led him to the library. Finally, you stopped in front of a seemingly ordinary bookshelf taking the key hidden in a book.

"Ready?" you asked, a slow smile spreading across your face.

Mr Ben nodded eagerly.

You unlocked a small old door, you opened them, revealing a small, cozy nook tucked away behind it.

"Get in" you announced, stepping inside.

The nook was surprisingly spacious, with a small table and chair. Sunlight streamed through a small window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air.

Ben stared in amazement. "Wow," he breathed, "This is incredible. How did you even know about this place?"

You shrugged, "A little secret I've been keeping to myself."

You got closer to Mr Ben saying to him pulling his tie and whispering him with tremble voice,

"May I suck your cock Mr Miller?"

He comes closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “Naughty girl, yes you can. My poor little miss been too cock drunk in my class."

“I’m gonna tell you what to do, and you will listen" he says as his large palm comes up to hold the column of your throat, his thumb just under your jaw, tilting you up to face him.

“Tell me you understand,” he commands, not really questioning.

"Yes I do Mr Miller" you say.

“Get on your knees, babygirl. You were dreaming about this don't you?" He ask. And you just nod.

As he releases you, you get on your knees. With your shaky hands you unbuckle his belt.

You tug both his pants and his underwear down just below his hips, and his thick length springs to attention..

FUCK you tough I'm gonna get choked.

You took him in your hands slowly you stroke along his length, feeling the heat, and the thick veins that add texture to each pass of your palm.

You part your lips and tease your tongue around and then start sucking on the tip, slowly taking more in until you’re sucking on the full head of his cock, and your tongue is whirling around it. His grip on the back of your neck tightens, and he gently moves his hips forward, urging you to take more of him.

“You look so pretty little miss, with your teacher’s cock down your sweet little throat,” you moan around him. “This what you wanted, hmm? Needed your throat fucked like a slut?”

“Tha’s it, just like that…” his groans are mixed with sounds of you gagging on his cock. You can hardly breathe, but you don't give up.

Then he pulls back and says "Sit on that chair and take off your shirt, I wanna see them." You managed to sit on the chair.

You quickly take off your shirt and bra, exposing your breast to him. He cupped them in his huge hands, then he leans closer putting his huge cock between them.

"Fuck" he moans as he continues to thrust his cock. He squeezes them so hard it almost hurts. His cock hitting in your chin. Then you opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue. As he cumms partly on your mouth and on your tit's.

Then he moved back saying "It's my turn Miss, I need to taste that sweet pussy. She must crave for me."

You just nodded. He says "Lay on the table babygirl."

He roughly takes off your pants, reaching for your panties saying "I'm keeping these."

He takes them off then he crouched down between your thighs. He asks "Have you ever did this?

"No Mr. Miller" you answered.

Then he adds "Glad I'm the first one eating this pussy."

And he did it. Like he was some hungry animal. He licked your clit, sucked it so hard you were breathless. He put his tongue in your entrance swirling inside. You were gripping for his huge arms. You let out loud moan and saying " Fuck! Mr Miller I'm gonna". Then he puts his finger inside you, his tongue rubbing your clit.

You screamed his name "Oohh Fuck Mr. Ben"

Then he stood up saying "Sweetest pussy I ever tasted." Then he leaned on and so gently kissed you. Cupping your face saying "You were so good, let's clean you up".

He gently cleaned you with wet wipes, when you told him "I'm gonna count this as birthday present Mr Ben."

"It's your birthday?" He asks you.

You told Mr. Ben, "It's tomorrow. It's my 19th birthday."

He raised an eyebrow. "19? You should be 18, right?"

"I missed a year in middle school," you explained. "I was sick for a while."

Mr. Ben nodded understandingly. "Oh, that makes sense. Well, happy early birthday then," he said with a smile. "Welcome to adulthood."

He paused, a playful glint in his eye. "No more sneaking out past curfew."

You laughed. "I haven't snuck out in years, Mr. Miller."

He chuckled. "Good to know." He then says "You will get better birthday present tomorrow." He winked at you. You smiled at him blushing. You were wondering what is he gonna give you.

As you finished with cleaning and dressing. You tried to sneak out of library. Then you say to him "Goodbye Mr. Miller"

"Thank you for the lollipop and the lesson"

He winked at you "Goodbye Miss don't be late tomorrow."

And you two went in different ways. This was best day ever you thought.

As you left school, you saw Sarah waiting for you outside. "Where have you been, girl? I've been looking for you!" she exclaimed.

"I was with Mr. Miller," you replied, "He gave me back my notebook."

Sarah's eyes widened. "Shit, you think he opened it?" she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.

You shook your head. "I don't think so," you replied, trying to sound confident.

"He just… returned it." But you know he has read everything. Shit when you thought about things he was doing to you five minutes before. You just laughed.

Suddenly, Sarah gasped. "I saw Mr. Ben yesterday! With Miss Jenny!"

You were speechless. "Miss Jenny, the beautiful but notoriously boring math teacher?

"They were at that new Italian restaurant," Sarah continued, "holding hands. They looked… cozy."

"Wow," you breathed, surprised and little jealous.

"Yeah," Sarah added, "Miss Jenny is gorgeous, I'll give her that. But she's so… boring. And her math tests are impossible."

You had to agree with her on that.

🫦

Your mom came home from her night shift, and you were preparing dinner.

"How was school today?" she asked, her voice tired but warm.

"Great," you replied, stirring the pot.

"Any boys?" she teased, her eyes twinkling.

"No, Mom," you laughed. "I don't have time for that right now."

Your mom sighed. "I know, I know. You're always so busy with school and everything. I'm going to work the night shift again tomorrow."

A wave of sadness washed over you. You were going to be alone on your birthday.

"Don't worry," your mom said, noticing your expression. "I'll make it up to you. I promise to buy you the biggest cake I can find."

You smiled, feeling a little better. A cake would definitely make your birthday a little brighter.

🎀

It was your birthday, and you were already running late for school. You'd spent the morning getting ready, wanting to look your best. You'd even put on the beautiful dress your mom had bought you and your favorite sneakers.

As you rushed out the door, you bumped into Pedro in the hallway. "Happy Birthday, Miss," he teased, grinning.

"Thanks, Pedro," you replied, "I'm so late!"

You hurried down the hall, your heart pounding. You were already imagining Mr. Miller's stern expression and the inevitable lecture about punctuality.

"I'm so fucked up," you muttered to yourself, your anxiety rising.

You knocked on the door and slowly opened it, your heart pounding in your chest. Mr. Ben looked at you with a stern expression.

"You are late again, Miss," he said, his voice firm. "That's not permissible and certainly not nice."

He stood up, his voice booming across the classroom. "Be quiet, everyone, while I deal with this."

He turned back to you, his expression serious.

"You are going to the principal's office right now. I can't tolerate this behavior anymore."

You felt a wave of panic wash over you. You knew you were in trouble, but you hadn't expected such a harsh reaction.

He left the classroom with you, gripping your arm and leading you through the hallway. You looked at him little scared your heart beating like crazy "I'm so sorry Mr. Miller".

He doesn't respond until he got to teacher's male bathroom. He checked if there is anybody. Pulling you inside quickly and locking the door.

Then he turned to you. You look at him and he was smiling. He grabbed you so tight, pulling you so close to him you could felt his heartbeat. He kissed you so needy and rougly.

He pulled back saying. "You look so sexy in that dress little miss." "Is that for me huh?"

You say "Yes, Mr Miller."

He pulled up your dress with his left hand squeezing your buttcheek. With right hand he still holds your face.

He kissed you again, this time with a passion that bordered on desperation. Then he kissed your neck, his lips trailing a path of fire across your skin.

He crouched down on his knees, lifting your dress. Slowly pulling your panties down, he looked at you.

You just muttered "Fuck".

He began to lick you, his tongue tracing a path from you clit to your inner thighs. You moaned, your right hand gripping his hair, with left hand you hold to his shoulder. Your legs started to shake, your moans are louder now.

He stopped looked at you "Be quiet miss." You answered "Yes....sir."

"You taste so good," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. He continues his licking on your clit, fucking your hole with one finger.

You overwhelmed with pleasure, clung to him. After he finished, he looked at you. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen – your face flushed, your eyes glazed over with pleasure, a contented sigh escaping your lips.

He knew, with a certainty that shook him to his core, that he was in love with you. He wanted to spend the rest of his life making you feel this way.

He smiled, his heart overflowing with a happiness. "Happy Birthday little miss," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

He stood up, you told him "Thank you Mr. Ben." Then he told you "It was my pleasure, we should get back to class."

You nodded saying "Yes Mr. Ben" He took your hand, unlocked the door. He checked if there was anybody. You left back to the classroom.

You returned to your seat, feeling a little shaken. Sarah noticed your blushed face and wide eyes. "What happened?

You took a deep breath, "I… I got a warning from Mr. Miller."

Sarah's eyes widened. "Oh no! You didn't!"

Sarah shook her head, "Mr. Miller is usually pretty chill. What did he say?"

You hesitated, not wanting to dwell on the encounter. "Just… a warning. No big deal."

You spent rest of the class thinking how that man was eating you. God you love him so much. Everytime he had a chance when nobody was looking at him, he would gaze at you, with that playful smile.

🎂

The evening of your birthday arrived, and a wave of loneliness washed over you. Your mom was working her night shift, and Sarah was out on a date. You felt a pang of sadness as you realized you'd be spending your birthday alone.

Suddenly, your phone rang. You looked at the caller ID – it was Mr. Ben. You felt a jolt of surprise.

You hesitated for a moment, then answered. "Hello, Mr. Miller?"

"Good evening, [Y/N]," Mr. Miller's voice was warm a.nd friendly. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, thank you," you replied, "A little lonely, to be honest."

"Ah, I see," Mr. Miller said understandingly.

"It's your birthday, isn't it? That's not right. You should be out celebrating."

"Yeah," you sighed. "Everyone else is out having fun."

"Well," Mr. Miller said, his voice a little hesitant, "I want to bring you your birthday present." Then you hear some women voice calling him. It must be Miss Jenny. He says "Just a minute" You were put on hold. Shit you murmured.

Mr Ben room 📞

Miss Jenny opened the bathroom door asking Mr Ben "Who's calling you this late?

He says "Oh It's my friend Joel, his tire went flat he needs my help." He get up started to dress up. "I'm gonna get back soon".

She says to him, little mad " Oh come on we supposed to have romantic night".

He says "Later maybe I need to go".

He get's dressed and he took his phone.

You hung up call, couldn't wait any longer. But he calls you again.

"Yes Mr Ben" you answer.

"I hope so you didn't fall asleep, I'm on my way to your house." "Is it adress from the notebook? he asks you.

"Yes it is, Mr Ben." You just confirmed.

"Okay, see you soon" he hung up.

Then your mind go crazy. Shit he is on the way to my house. You quickly take a shower. You put on a white tank top with no bra on, and shorts. Yes you wanna tease him little bit. Little bit a perfume and you combed hair. Then you hear the doorbell. Your heart skipped a beat. He is finally here. You rushed to open the door.

And there he is, in black shirt with his glasses on and a most beautiful smile.

"Good evening Miss" he greeted you.

"Good evening Mr Ben, please come in."

You guided him to the living room. And he was holding small box. Then he handed you a box saying with warm smile "I got you a birthday cake."

You were touched by his gesture. "Thank you, Mr. Ben," you said, "This is so kind of you."

Mr. Ben smiled. "You're welcome. We could eat it together." "Of course." You say.

While you were eating a cake, his eyes never left yours. He had that mischievous smile. Then he asks you "Why are you alone on your birthday?"

You answer "Well my mom is at night shift at work, my bestfriend is on a date."

And then he asks "And your Dad?" You say sadly "I have never met him, he left us when I was baby." Mr Ben felt sad for you "I'm sorry"..

Then you say "Well lucky me I got you here tonight Mr Ben."

He adds "I will be there for you always."

Then he asked you curious "Why do you like me Miss?" You answered with a smile "You are handsome, nice and you are Zaddy!"

He laughed so hard on that compliment. "Thank you Miss" he adds "So do you just like older men or you have daddy issues?"

You answered with a laugh "Both Mr Miller, and I like you a lot"

You gently kissed him, a soft flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

Then he says to you "I got one more present for you."

"You have one more present for me?" you whispered, your voice soft.

He smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Just a little something extra." He handed you a small, velvet box. With trembling fingers, you lifted the lid. Inside, nestled on a bed of silk, lay a breathtaking necklace. A delicate silver chain held a tiny, exquisitely crafted butterfly, its wings shimmering with a thousand tiny facets.

You gasped, speechless. It was perfect. "Mr Ben..." you breathed, your voice thick with emotion. "It's... it's beautiful."

He leaned in and kissed you again, a long, slow kiss that spoke volumes. "Happy Birthday, Miss" he murmured against your lips.

Tears welled up in your eyes. You pulled back, slipping the necklace around your neck. It felt light as a feather, yet somehow, incredibly precious. "Thank you, Mr Ben," you whispered, your voice choked with gratitude. "Thank you for everything."

You felt a surge of happiness, a warmth that spread through you like sunshine. This was the best birthday ever.

He smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"I told you I had a presents for you." He leaned down and whispered, "I saved the best for last."

You felt your breath catch in your throat. "There's more?" you asked, a shiver running down your spine.

He chuckled, his eyes full of warmth. "Just wait and see."

He lifted you gently, your legs wrapping involuntarily around his waist. You felt a surge of dizziness, a mixture of excitement and passion. He carried you to the bedroom, his touch surprisingly gentle.

He gently laid you down on the bed, the soft sheets a welcome contrast to the cool air. You felt a flutter of nerves, this was your first night together.

He leaned over you, his gaze intense. "Are you ready for the final surprise?" he whispered, his breath fanning your face.

You could only nod, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. He leaned down and kissed you, a slow, tender kiss that ignited a fire within you.

🎀

He knew you were a virgin, and he was incredibly gentle. He slowly began to undress you, kissing your neck and trailing kisses down your chest. "Don't be afraid," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "I'll be gentle. If you feel uncomfortable at any point, just tell me, and I'll stop."

You felt a mixture of nerves and excitement. You wanted him, you wanted him so badly.

"I... I want you too, Mr. Ben," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He smiled, a tender expression in his eyes. "Good, and please call me Ben" he murmured, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss.

He continued to undress you slowly, his touch lingering, exploring every inch of your skin. You felt a wave of sensations, a mixture of fear and anticipation, but mostly, an overwhelming desire for him.

He moved slowly, tenderly, checking in with you every step of the way. "Is this okay?" he asked softly, his eyes searching yours.

You nodded, unable to speak. You were lost in the moment, consumed by the feeling of his touch, the warmth of his breath against your skin.

This was your first time, and it was everything you had ever dreamed of.

He gently removed your panties, revealing you completely to him. He leaned down and began to gently lick your clit, his tongue swirling around it. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I'm going to stretch you out a little bit, okay?"

You nodded, breathless. He was so gentle, so considerate. He slowly inserted his finger inside you, and you moaned, arching your back against him. He continued to explore you slowly, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

He leaned back, his eyes searching yours. "Are you ok?" he asked softly.

"Yes," you whispered, "Please continue."

He began to slowly push his tip inside you. You twitched, a mixture of pleasure and a sharp pain. He paused, his eyes filled with concern. "I know baby, it hurts..you will be alright" he says.

"Ok, please go on," you urged, "it feels… amazing."

He slowly increased the pressure, his movements deliberate and controlled. "Oh baby," he groaned, "you're so tight, you take me so well." He leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "Condom," you whispered.

He says "Oh no baby I wanna feel you, I wanna cum inside this pussy." He growled pushing harder inside you. "Oohh...shit!" you scream "Fuck me Daddy" his cock twitched by your words.

He continued his thrust more fast and harder. His kisses trailed down your neck.

You clung to his shoulders, breathless.

'Fuck, you feel so good,' you whispered, your voice hoarse. 'So big.'

He groaned, his movements intensifying.

"Oh fuck, this is the best pussy I've ever had,' he growled, his words muffled against your skin.

As you reached your peak, you tightened around him, urging him on.

You both reached a crescendo, a wave of pleasure washing over you both. He pulled back, his eyes filled with love.

"Look at that, that's pussy is mine now. Understand that? You confirmed his words

"Yes Mr Ben I'm only yours."

"I love you," he breathed, his voice hoarse.

You smiled, your heart overflowing. "I love you too, Ben," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

You lay there for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, the afterglow of passion still lingering. It was a moment of pure bliss, a feeling of intimacy and connection that you had never experienced before. You knew this was just the beginning of something truly special.

Suddenly, the memory of your mother returning home hit you like a wave. "Oh no," you whispered, "my mom will be home soon."

Mr Ben's face fell. "I have to go," he said, his voice laced with concern. He gently kissed you, a lingering touch that spoke volumes. "I got you this," he said, handing you a small, discreet package. "Plan B. Just take it as soon as possible."

You watched him get dressed, a knot of sadness tightening in your chest. You knew he had to go, but the thought of being without him already felt unbearable. You found a glass of water and swallowed the pill, the bitter taste a stark reminder of the fleeting nature of the moment.

As you listened to the sound of his footsteps fading down the stairs, you felt a wave of loneliness wash over you. It had been the most incredible night, but it was over far too soon.

Chapter 5 You really love me

The rhythmic clatter of dishes and the low murmur of conversation filled the air of the bustling restaurant. You were working the night shift, a familiar routine to earn extra money for college. And you want to help your mom with expenses. Your friend Sarah, a constant source of both support and distraction, worked alongside you.

Suddenly, you spotted a familiar face. Miss Jenny, your high school math teacher, was seated at a table, her expression thoughtful as she waited for someone. The memory of her strict demeanor and challenging equations briefly flashed through your mind.

Jake, Sarah's cousin, a fellow waiter, approached Miss Jenny with a practiced charm. Older than you, Jake had a reputation for being flirtatious, but he wasn't your type. You love Mr Ben, and right now you are thinking about him. You miss him so much.

Sarah told you about Jake. "He's involved in secret relationship with an older woman," she whispered to you.

You were deep in thought, replaying the memories of the previous night with Mr. Ben, when the restaurant doors swung open and he walked in.

Your heart leaped, but then your eyes followed his gaze as he made his way directly to Miss Jenny's table. He greeted her with a warm smile, and the way he leaned in to listen intently made your stomach clench. He seemed genuinely interested, even captivated by her.

A wave of jealousy washed over you. You felt a pang of hurt – he was here, at the restaurant where you worked, spending time with another woman.

Determined to distract yourself, you approached their table, "Good evening, what can I get for you?" you asked, your voice carefully neutral.

Ben looked surprised, a flicker of guilt crossing his features. Miss Jenny, seemingly oblivious to the undercurrent of emotions, placed her order.

As you walked away, you glanced back at their table. Miss Jenny left to the restroom. Ben was left alone, his attention focused on his phone. You noticed him typing a message. Your heart sank. He was texting someone.

A few moments later, your phone buzzed. It was a message from Mr. Ben:

📨"I miss you. You look beautiful tonight."

Anger bubbled up inside you. He was with another woman, yet he was sending you flirtatious messages. You felt a surge of hurt and confusion. Unable to bear the tension any longer, you excused yourself to take out the trash, needing the fresh air to clear your head.

You were walking past the women's restroom when you witnessed an unexpected sight: Miss Jenny and Jake, fucking in the restroom. They were kissing deeply, their bodies intertwined. You were both, surprised and a little angry.

You hurried back to Ben's table, your voice trembling slightly. "Your… girl… Miss Jenny, she's in the restroom… with a waiter… having sex."

Ben's face paled. "What?!" he exclaimed, his voice sharp with disbelief.

He sprang to his feet, a furious expression on his face, and stormed towards the restroom.

You followed at a distance, your heart pounding. You heard his voice, loud and angry, echoing from within the restroom.

"Jenny! Really? While I was at the table waiting for you?"

A moment of stunned silence followed, then Jenny's voice, laced with apology, "I… I'm so sorry, Ben. I don't know what came over me."

Ben's voice was cold and dismissive.

"Stop. We are done. Don't come to my house anymore. I don't want to see you."

Jake, who had been holding Jenny's hand, pulled her away from Ben. "Let him go," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "You don't need him. You are mine."

You watched in surprise as Jenny, seemingly dazed, allowed Jake to lead her away. You were shocked by Ben's reaction. He had been so furious, so hurt, yet he remained surprisingly calm. He turned to you, his eyes filled with a strange mixture of disbelief and resignation.

Ben took your hand, his touch surprisingly gentle. "When is your shift over?" he asked, his voice still a little rough but with a hint of warmth returning to his eyes.

"In about 15 minutes," you replied, surprised by his sudden change in demeanor.

"Good," he said "Can you come with me?"

You agreeded, telling Sarah you are going home with Mr Miller.

Sarah told you "Go ahead and have some fun." She'll cover for you.

You were stunned. "Come on, let's go," he said, he took your hand.

You quickly gathered your stuff and followed him out of the restaurant. He opened the passenger door of his car for you, a small gesture that made your heart flutter.

As he started driving, you couldn't help but ask, "How…how were you so calm back there?"

He glanced at you, a small smile playing on his lips. "I came here tonight to break up with her," he admitted. "She made it easier for me. I knew she was cheating on me. I found out last week." He looked at you, his eyes intense. "I only love you, little Miss. That's all that matters. I only want to be with you."

Your heart soared. You leaned over and kissed him, a long, passionate kiss that spoke volumes.

"Where are we going?" you asked, your voice soft.

"To my place," he replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You quickly called Sarah, letting her know you were going to Mr Ben house. If your mom calls her, she need to tell you are with her at sleepover. Then you called your mom, explaining that you were staying with Sarah.

As Ben continued to drive, he leaned over and kissed you again. You felt a wave of happiness wash over you. It had been a crazy night, but it had ended on the most perfect note.

❤️

When you arrived at Ben's house, he offered you something to drink and a small snack. You accepted gratefully, still buzzing from the adrenaline of the evening's events. He led you to his bedroom, the air thick with anticipation.

This time, the passion was different. It was raw, intense, overflowing with the pent-up desire and the relief of finally being together. He was more passionate than before, yet still incredibly gentle and caring. He sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes burning with desire as he watched you approach. "Come here babygirl, I want you to ride me."

Taking a deep breath, you climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. You put inside his thick and huge cock with your right hand.

Shit you taught. Just the tip is making you go crazy.

When he was deep inside you, you began to move slowly, feeling his hands guiding you, encouraging you. He groaned softly, his eyes closed in pleasure. "You're so good at this,little Miss" he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

Then he gently shifted, guiding you beneath him. His movements were more forceful now, more demanding, but you welcomed the change. The intensity of his touch ignited a fire within you. You arched your back, your nails digging slightly into his shoulders.

"Mr Ben!" you cried out, your voice strained with pleasure. You buried your face in the pillow, biting your arm to stifle the sounds that threatened to escape. "Yes… Fuck me harder… Sir…" you whispered, the word "Sir" slipping out unconsciously, a playful echo of his earlier teasing.

He groaned, his voice rough with desire. "You are taking me so well, Miss," "This pussy is made for me" he murmured, his breath hot against your ear.

You felt a surge of pleasure, while he was more deeper inside you. This was your night, your moment, and you were savoring every second of it.

He gently slapped your ass cheeks, his hands firm but not harsh. He grabbed them, teasing you, pulling them slightly apart before bringing them back together.

"Fuck Mr. Miller!" you cried out, your voice hoarse with pleasure. "Ohhh, what are you doing to me?"

He groaned, his breath hot against your ear.

"I love you, babygirl," he murmured. "You are mine now and forever."

And in that moment, you knew he meant it.

You arched your back, gasping as you neared your climax.

Then, he released, cumming on your ass.

Afterwards, he gently helped you clean up, leading you to the bathroom and running a bath for you both. He washed you tenderly, his touch gentle and loving.

Exhausted but content, you both climbed into bed, falling asleep in each other's arms, the lingering warmth of passion still enveloping you.

You woke up to the delicious smell of pancakes. Groaning softly, you opened your eyes and saw Ben in the kitchen, flipping pancakes on the griddle. A smile spread across your face.

You crept up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist. "Good morning," you murmured, kissing his neck.

He turned around, a wide grin on his face. "Good morning, sleepyhead," he replied, kissing you back. "Pancakes are almost ready."

As you ate breakfast, you felt a warmth spread through you. Ben was so kind, so considerate.

"I need to take you home," he said after a while, his expression serious. "And I need to talk to your mom. I don't want to hide anything from her."

You hesitated. "I don't know, Ben. It could be risky for your job."

He took your hand, his gaze intense. "I know," he said, "but I can't live a lie. I'll find another job, in another city if I have to. But I won't let fear dictate our lives."

His words touched you deeply. You realized that with Ben, you could face any challenge, no matter how daunting.

Ben and you arrived at your house, your heart pounding against your ribs. Your mom was surprised to see you, her eyebrows raised in a mixture of concern and amusement.

"Mr Ben, this is my mother," you introduced, your voice slightly trembling.

Mr Ben stood up and shook your mother's hand, his smile warm and genuine. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. [Your Last Name]," he said.

The conversation flowed surprisingly well. You sipped on coffee, enjoying the easy banter between Mr Ben and your mother. He was charming and articulate, answering her questions with honesty and sincerity.

Then, he said it. "I love your daughter, Mrs. [Y/L/N]," he said, his gaze unwavering.

"And I want to be in a serious relationship with her."

Your mother was visibly shocked.

"You… you love her?" she stammered, her eyes wide. "He's a bit old for you, you know."

You took a deep breath. "Mom, I love him too."

Your mother looked from you to Mr Ben and back again, her expression a mixture of concern and apprehension. "I… I just don't want to see my daughter get hurt," she admitted. "I don't want her to be used and heartbroken."

Ben reached across the table and took your hand.

"I understand your concern, Mrs. [Your L/N]," he said, his voice sincere. "But I assure you, that will never happen. I am serious about her. I want to marry her, when she's ready."

Your mother looked at you, her eyes searching your face. You smiled, your heart overflowing with love and happiness. You knew, with a certainty that settled deep within your soul, that this was the beginning of something truly special.

💖

Graduation day was a whirlwind of emotions. The pomp and circumstance, the cheers of friends and family, the thrill of finally crossing that stage – it was all a bit overwhelming. But then, amidst the celebratory buzz, you spotted him – Mr Ben, standing tall and proud, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand.

Your mom was beaming beside him, her eyes filled with pride.

As you approached, Mr Ben stepped forward, his eyes sparkling. "You did it," he said, his voice filled with admiration. "I'm so incredibly proud of you."

He handed you the flowers, their fragrance filling the air. You thanked him, your heart pounding.

Then, he did it. He knelt down on one knee, the bouquet forgotten at his feet.

"Y/N," he began, his voice trembling slightly,

"I've loved you since the moment I met you. You are the most amazing woman I know, kind, intelligent, and beautiful inside and out. You make me a better man. Will you do me the incredible honor of becoming my wife?"

A gasp rippled through the crowd. Your mom's jaw dropped. You, however, were speechless. Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, his face etched with love and sincerity.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Yes, Ben, yes!"

He slid a stunning ring onto your finger, then pulled you into a passionate kiss. Cheers erupted from the crowd, but you were oblivious to everything except the warmth of his lips and the overwhelming joy that surged through you.

You and Mr. Ben moved to the new city, a fresh start for your new life together. He found a job teaching at a local high school, and you landed a position at a nearby bookstore and attended the college. Life was good. You were happy, building a life together, exploring your new surroundings.

Then, two years into your new life, you discovered you were pregnant. Ben was overjoyed, his face beaming with delight. He was incredibly supportive throughout your pregnancy, helping with chores, cooking delicious meals, and attending every doctor's appointment with you.

Finally, your baby boy arrived, a tiny bundle of joy who filled your lives with laughter and love. Ben was a natural with him, changing diapers, playing silly games, and showering him with affection.

One evening, as you watched your son play with his father on the living room floor, a wave of contentment washed over you. "I love you, Ben," you whispered, leaning in to kiss him.

He smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Love you too, Miss," he replied, pulling you close. "I'm glad that day, all those years ago, you bumped into me." And you say "I'm glad that I was late to the class that morning."

You held him tight, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for the life they had built together – a life filled with love, laughter, and the promise of a bright future.

Thank you for the reading 💜

Please like, reblog and comment ❣️

I apologize for any writing mistakes, my native language is not English.

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