#soon!!!!!!! it’ll be pet(s)!!!!!!!

[pedrospatch]

someone to be thankful for

DBF! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: It’s Thanksgiving—when dinner with your nightmare of a family goes south, you find comfort in the person you least expect it from: your father’s best friend, Joel Miller.

warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (AU, NO OUTBREAK) non canon, DBF! Joel, AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s, i do not specify her age, but she’s a recent college grad so do with that what you will, not everyone graduates at the same specific age ya know? Joel is in his mid-ish 50’s). Reader’s a teacher, she is visiting her suburban childhood home from a big city. Reader’s parents are religious and practice traditional-ish gender norms (i.e father is head of the household kinda thing) reader’s family celebrates Thanksgiving (sorry) several mentions of food and alcohol, reader’s parents suck, she has two brothers who come with names, a lot of her relatives come with names, watch out for Aunt Ines she’s a bitch. (TW) body/weight shaming (twice) PLEASE BE MINDFUL if this could be triggering. mentions of and implications of childhood abuse (not graphic) reader’s dad gets in her face, implied infidelity (reader’s dad), implied toxic marriage (reader’s parents). soft, caring, protective Joel. Joel’s recently divorced, mention of Sarah, mentions of the ex-wife. SMUT. oral sex (female receiving) p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) reader states she’s on baby blockers (birth control), creampie, DADDY KINK (bc reader clearly has a few daddy issues), LOTS of pet names (darlin’, baby, pretty girl, sweetheart, honey), size kink (ish?), cockwarming. think i got it all?

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, that is fine but just keep on scrolling.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.

word count: 11.5k

a/n: yeah…idk. this was very delayed because it turned into a whole thing. if anyone actually reads all 11k of this, i will bake you muffins.

You take a deep breath and look in the mirror.

Skirt pressed, not a wrinkle in sight.

Hair brushed, not a single strand out of place.

Makeup done, not a blemish to be seen.

And somehow, someone will still find something.

Something to point out.

Something to comment on.

Something to criticize.

If not your appearance, it’ll be something else.

Because someone always had something to say.

“Should you be eating all of that?”

“Another year gone and still no boyfriend?”

“Don’t you want to get married?”

“When I was in my twenties, I had two children.”

Boundaries didn’t exist on Thanksgiving.

Actually, for your family, boundaries didn’t exist at all—somehow, they are still scratching their heads and wondering why you’d decided to up and leave the minute your high school principal handed over that diploma, your ticket to freedom.

“Sweetie!” Your mother’s shrill voice calls from the kitchen downstairs. “I need a hand! Our guests are going to start arriving soon and there is still plenty left for us to do before they get here!”

You groan outwardly.

There’s still plenty left to do?

How’s that even fucking possible?

You’ve been cooking and baking since sunrise.

“Don’t you think it’s too early?” you’d grumbled at five o’ clock in the morning when your mother had pulled you out of bed, declaring it was time for the big dinner preparations to begin—even though it’d be several hours before your family came over and gathered around the table to break bread. She had pulled the turkey out of the freezer a few days ago, a massive, thirty-pound whole bird that looked big enough to feed a small village. In addition, she had picked up a ham and a brisket. “Mom, why’s there so much food?” Rubbing the sleep from your eyes with the sleeve of your robe, you’d started making your way over to the Nespresso only to realize that the coffee machine was hidden behind paper bags full of groceries. “Are we cooking for all of Texas or something?”

“Very funny,” she had glared at you. “Of course we aren’t.” She started unwrapping the turkey. “We’re simply making sure we have enough food and that we have different options for everyone to enjoy, so knock it off with the wisecracks and get to peeling those carrots for me for the stuffing. There is not a single minute to waste today, you hear me, missy? We’re hosting a dozen people, so everything must be absolutely perfect. I won’t accept anything less than perfection today, do you understand me?”

Thirteen hours later, she’s still driving you insane.

You’re only home visiting until the end of the week and then it’s back to the Midwest. You can survive her for three more days, right?

You hear her calling your name and exhale a small, frustrated sigh. “I’m coming, mom!” you call back. It’s difficult to mask the annoyance in your tone of voice, but somehow you manage it. “One minute!”

Smoothing down your pleated plaid skirt, you take one last look in the mirror to make sure everything is in order—there is a loose thread on the sleeve of your brown, knitted sweater and you carefully snip it off with a pair of scissors before sliding your feet into the comfiest pair of ankle boots you’d packed and head downstairs, nose leading the way as you follow the warm, delicious scent of the made from scratch biscuits and rolls baking in the oven.

You find your mother standing at the center island counter garnishing a charcuterie board with sweet gherkins and sprigs of fresh herbs. She’s donning a festive apron embroidered with fall leaves over her designer dress, and her hair’s still up in rollers. “Finally, there you are,” she huffs out loudly the second she hears you walk into the kitchen. Down the hallway, your father and two younger brothers are shouting at some football game on the flat screen television in the living room—men don’t lift a single finger on this day, at least not in this household. “I need you to start setting the table for me. I have place cards in that bag over there. Make sure your dad’s at the head of the table. Oh and don’t forget to bring out the children’s table for all your little cousins—” She glances up, letting out a small gasp when she sees you. “What in the world are you wearing?”

Frowning, you look down at yourself. “Clothes?”

Her ruby red lips purse together in a tight thin line.

“Honey, that skirt is too short. It’s inappropriate.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at her. “It’s like an inch above the knee, how is that inappropriate? It’s not like it’s a miniskirt, mom.” As she eyes your skirt with disapproval, you decide you’re not in the mood to argue and say, “Okay, fine. I’ll go upstairs and change into something else then—”

“No, no, forget it,” she shakes her head. “We don’t have the time for that.” Your mother whirls around, picking up the bag of place holders—she’d special ordered little turkeys carved out of wood. She also takes a marker and a notepad, shoving everything into your hands. “Here. I wrote down all the names of everyone who’s coming for dinner. The children get place holders too but make sure the little ones are sitting beside someone older to help them. Oh! Did I already mention putting your dad at the head of the—”

Tuning her out, your eyes scan down the guest list and if there’s one thing to be thankful for today it’s the fact that your mother’s given you the power to seat everybody wherever you want. Halfway down the list, you see the names of several relatives that you don’t want anywhere near you at the table. An Aunt Miriam who smells like the inside of a casino; a cousin Jennifer who refuses to acknowledge her forty-eight month old is actually four years old; an uncle Richard who always has one too many beers and winds up spewing antigovernment conspiracy theories, ranting until he’s passed out somewhere, such as on the floor of the guest bathroom.

You get to the bottom of the list and can’t help but raise an eyebrow in surprise. “Joel Miller?”

She nods, returning to her board.

“You remember Mr. Miller, don’t you, sweetie? He and your father went to college together—he’s one of his oldest and dearest friends. Don’t tell me you forgot about him? You’ve met him plenty of ti—”

“Yeah, I remember who Joel is, mom,” you mutter, cutting her off. “Didn’t he and the family move out to Arizona like, four years ago? To Phoenix, right?” You’d been away for college then. Taking a second glance at the list, you notice she had forgotten the names of Joel’s wife and daughter. Surely, it’d just been a mistake on her part, though. “I had no idea they were in town visiting. Dad didn’t mention it to me at all.”

“They’re not.” She lowers her voice, as if someone else is standing in the room listening. “Joel moved back to Austin, he’s been back for a few days now. He and Connie, they um—” Pausing for a moment, she reaches up and clasps the cross hanging from her neck before whispering, “They got divorced.”

Taken aback, your mouth parts slightly. “What?”

“I know. Joel and Connie were the last people that I ever thought would get divorced. Such a shame,” your mother remarks, shaking her head. “I ran into Mrs. Adler at the super market and she was telling me all about it. Thinks they could have saved their marriage if only those two—”

“Would get right with Jesus,” you finish, biting the tiny smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “She says that about everything, mom.”

“Well, she isn’t wrong! The sacrament of marriage is a lifelong bond that shouldn’t be broken. It’s not right.” Dropping her hand away from her necklace, she crosses her arms over chest. “Anyway, Connie stayed in Phoenix. Sarah’s spending Thanksgiving with her. Your father didn’t want Joel spending the holiday alone and invited him over for dinner. That means I need you to be on your very best behavior tonight. I don’t want you embarrassing your father in front of his closest friend. Is that understood?”

You can’t help but scoff a little. “I’m not a child.”

She narrows her eyes at you and scoffs right back, planting her hands on her hips.

“No, you’re a smart aleck. Need I remind you what happened last Thanksgiving with Aunt Ines?”

Of course she didn’t have to remind you about last year’s fiasco with her insufferable bitch of a sister.

“That’s an awfully big piece of pumpkin pie,” she’d remarked loudly, eliciting snickers from everybody sitting at the table. “Don’t forget, dear—a moment on the lips, forever on the hips. And you have quite a few forevers on your hips already, darling.”

You had smiled sweetly at her, your fingers itching to fling your mother’s fine china at her. “I wouldn’t really worry about my pie, Aunt Ines,” you had said as soon as you realized that nobody, not even your parents, would be coming to your defense. “Much less when your husband’s stepping out and eating someone else’s pie when he’s away on all those so called business trips. Worry about that instead.”

That comment hadn’t gone over all too well. Three months later, Aunt Ines and Uncle Louis started to see a marriage counselor. Whoops.

“Well?”

“She deserved that,” you say, shrugging lightly.

“She’s family.”

“She’s a jerk.”

“You crossed a line.”

“She crossed it first.”

Before your mother can respond, the sound of the doorbell ringing echoes throughout the house.

“Jesus, we don’t have time for this!” Your mother’s eyes widen when she tries running a hand through her hair and realizes she still has her rollers in. “Oh no, people are arriving and I’m still not ready!” She makes a beeline for the hallway. “Get the door and greet our guests, I’ll be down in five minutes!”

She disappears upstairs into her bedroom and you hear the doorbell ring again. Your father shouts for someone to go answer it, someone other than him or your brothers because it is the end of the fourth quarter and they just can’t possibly miss that.

You make your way through the foyer and open up the front door expecting it to be one of your family members, but it’s not.

Your throat instantly goes dry at the sight of him.

He’s broader than you remeber, so much broader.

The fabric of his sage green dress shirt is nice and snug on his frame—stretched taut over the planes of his chest and his wide shoulders. He’s holding a box of store bought something or other but you’re much too preoccupied with the way the sleeves of his shirt are hugging his biceps to notice what it is although you assume it’s some kind of dessert. He looks far more delicious than whatever sweet treat could be in that white box he’s got in his hands.

After a minute, you realize you’ve been gawking at him and the heat rushes to your cheeks. “Hello Mr. Miller,” you greet him politely. “It’s very nice to see you again. Please, come on in.”

He smiles, his brown eyes warm and sweet behind his square, black-rimmed glasses. “You remember me,” he states and the syrupy richness of his voice sends a pleasant tingle up your spine. Stepping off to the side, you allow him inside—as he steps past you over the threshold, the tantalizing scent of his cologne almost brings you to your knees. Notes of a citrus accord like tart grapefruit, fresh bergamot mixed with the woodiness of vetiver and musk; it’s intoxicating, something you could easily get drunk off of if you’re not careful. “I’m surprised. S’been a real long time since you last saw me.”

“It hasn’t been all that long,” you reply, closing the door behind you. You speak to him in the steadiest voice you can muster, with nonchalance—as if you aren’t one missed heartbeat away from feeling like a silly little schoolgirl with her first crush. “Has it?”

He thinks about it. “‘Bout four and a half years.”

“That’s really not that long.”

“S’not,” Joel admits with a chuckle. “But with how much I’ve aged in that short amount of time, I just wasn’t sure if you’d recognize me, y’know? I look a lot different than I used to.” He pauses and laughs, shaking his head. “I must look like an old geezer to you now, don’t I?”

Grays lightly pepper his thick dark brown curls, his beard and his mustache. He’s got crows feet when he smiles, he has worry lines and creases between his eyebrows—he does look a lot older, but he’s so goddamn handsome, wrinkles, fine lines, and all.

You toss him a playful eye roll, prompting a grin. “I don’t think you look like an old geezer, Mr. Miller.”

“Well, you’re sure as hell makin’ me feel like an old geezer by callin’ me that, darlin’ girl.” He gives you a little wink and you’re not quite sure if it’s that, or if it was the way he’d used a pet name that knocks all the wind out of your lungs. “Please, just call me Joel.”

You nod and shyly agree to it. “Okay, then. Joel.”

“S’much better.” His grin widens and a prominent, deep dimple appears on the left side of his cheek.

There’s a silence that follows, but it’s not awkward or weird. It’s comfortable—being in his presence is comfortable. His sweet disposition makes you feel so calm, so at ease.

Joel’s always been a nice man of course, although your interactions with him had been limited—kind, quick hello’s in passing on Sundays whenever he’d come over to watch football with your dad, maybe a polite how are you here and there if you bumped into him at gatherings like a backyard barbecue or birthday party. But you’re older now, no longer the child who greeted her father’s best friend because it was bad manners if she didn’t. You don’t want to throw him that kind, quick hello or that polite how are you and then scurry off the way you used to as a little kid. You actually want to talk to Joel Miller.

But you suddenly remember he’s not here for you.

He’s here for your father.

Joel!” Your mother screeches, five-inch high heels clacking loudly as she descends the staircase. She had ditched the apron and hair rollers—and put on one too many layers of her heaviest perfume. With a delighted squeal, she rushes up to Joel and pulls him into a bone crushing hug, almost causing him to drop the box he’s still holding. “Oh, it is so good to see you! It’s been far too long!”

You force back a small, amused snort.

As if she hadn’t been judging the man for a failed marriage just minutes ago in the kitchen.

It’s performative, too over the top to be sincere.

“S’good to see you too.” He steps back and laughs as he adjusts his glasses with one of his hands. He holds out the box to her with the other. “Picked up a pecan pie on the way over here. I would’a tried to make it myself, but the kitchen’s still all packed up in boxes.” He pauses, laughing again. “Then again, I ain’t really much of a baker. Store bought was for the best I reckon,” he admits, sheepishly. When he shrugs his shoulders, his shirt strains a bit over his frame and even your mother can’t help but stare a little.

Lightly clearing her throat, she takes the box from him and reminds him, “Didn’t I tell you that all you had to bring tonight was a nice, healthy appetite?”

Joel lightly pats his stomach. “Brought that too. In fact, I didn’t eat a thing all day long. I’m absolutely starvin’ right now. Could eat a whole horse.”

“Good! Dinner’s going to be served soon. William’s in the living room with the boys, watching football game after football game. Come with me, I’m sure you’re eager to see him.” Your mother spins on her heel and hands you the dessert. “Sweetie, will you be a gem and go put this in the kitchen for me?” It isn’t a request, it’s an order masked as a request—it’s the kindest she’s been to you all day. She takes Joel’s arm and leads him down the hallway, calling out over her shoulder, “And please set the table!”

You do set the table, and when you do, you decide to sit yourself right next to Joel Miller.

Your mother lightly clinks her knife against the rim of her wine glass and clears her throat. “Everyone! It’s time to join hands and say grace before we dig into our meal,” she announces, her voice breaking through the loud, buzzing chatter at the table. She waits until there’s complete silence and then takes her seat, the chair adjacent to your father’s. You’re on his opposite side and Joel’s right beside you. “I think you should do the honor, William. You are the man of the house, after all.”

Nodding, your father begins the prayer.

“Heavenly Father, bless this food we are about—”

You’re not listening. You’re distracted by the jolt of electricity that zips through your entire body when you put your hand in Joel’s. His hand dwarfs yours and it’s rough and calloused, but somehow it’s the most gentle, soothing touch. Heat prickles at your face and neck when you feel him sweep his thumb across the back of your hand—you open your eyes and glance over at him, wondering if that had just been an accident. You’re convinced it was, until he does it again, running his finger over each knuckle one at a time. Slowly, like he’s savoring the touch.

Biting your lip, you give his hand a gentle squeeze.

His head is bowed and his eyes are still closed, but a faint smile tugs lightly at the corner of his mouth and he firmly squeezes your hand back. There’s an unmistakable desire that’s already burning deep in your lower belly, a flame you can’t extinguish even when the angel on your shoulder reminds you that not only is Joel Miller twice your fucking age, he is also your father’s best friend. His best friend.

“…through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

“Amen,” your relatives chime together in unison.

You force out the declaration. “Amen.”

“Amen,” Joel murmurs, opening his eyes. He turns to you and his gaze flits to your hand in his and for a moment, it almost seems like he doesn’t want to let it go. It feels like Joel doesn’t want to let it go—and he doesn’t. He doesn’t let it go until the sound of your father’s loud, booming voice announcing it is time for him to carve the bird startles the two of you apart. Clearing his throat lightly, Joel turns his attention forward and reaches for his cabernet. He gulps down half his glass in one easy swallow.

Dinner’s fairly uneventful.

You eat in complete silence, as does Joel.

Part of you wonders if it’s because you’re sitting in between him and your father, the only person that he’s most comfortable conversing with. Assuming this is the case, you’re just about to ask him if he’d like to trade places when he turns to you and says, “Your dad told me you went to school in Chicago.”

He’s just being friendly, you remind yourself when your heart starts to flutter wildly at the notion that he wants to talk to you. He’s friendly. That’s all. It doesn’t mean anything.

“Yeah. I did.” You pick up your glass of wine, taking a sip hoping it’ll ease the nerves. “I graduated over the summer and took a teaching job out there.”

“You became a teacher?”

“Yeah. I teach kindergarten.” You smile proudly.

“Can you believe that, Joel?” Your father lets out a scoff and shakes his head. “I spent thousands and thousands of dollars to send her to school. All that money and for what? For her to learn how to teach little ankle biters how to color inside the lines?” He rolls his eyes and gestures to your two brothers on the opposite side of the table. “Now my boys, they are smart. Chose good careers to pursue. Brandon starts applying to medical school in the spring. Oh and Matthew? He got early acceptance to Yale. He plans on studying law.” He shifts his attention over to you once more and shrugs. “Not too sure where I went wrong with this one.”

You stare at him in complete and utter disbelief.

“Dad.”

Chortling, he waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, come on, honey. I’m just kidding around. You know that I don’t mean it.” He then reaches out, pinching your cheek roughly. “Don’t be so sensitive,” he tells you before turning his attention back to his plate.

But he does mean it.

His comments hurt, and you hate that they hurt.

Joel nudges your arm with his. “Y’know somethin’, it takes someone real special to become a teacher, ‘specially to kids that age,” he states in a matter of fact tone. “Someone who’s real sweet and patient, someone real smart too. Someone just like you.”

Warmth radiates through your entire body. It’s not just his words, but it’s the sincerity behind them.

You shoot him a small, grateful smile.

The two of you wind up talking to one another.

Joel’s moving his contracting business, bringing it back to Austin from Phoenix to run it with Tommy, his younger brother who you vaguely remembered meeting a time or two in the past. He mentions his daughter here and there, but doesn’t bring Connie up once—perhaps it’s too painful for him? It’s hard to tell. He seems to be in good spirits and truth be told, it doesn’t appear he’s mourning his marriage; but it’s difficult to believe he’s not missing her, the woman he’d spent three decades of his life with. It shouldn’t even matter to you whether he’s missing his ex-wife or not, if there are residual feelings still lingering around. But it does matter and you don’t know why. Or maybe you do know why, but you’re too ashamed to admit it.

“Do you like Chicago?” Joel questions, curiously.

Shrugging, you respond, “Yeah. It’s a cool city.”

“You plan on stayin’ out there permanently?”

“I’m not too sure,” you admit. “It’s too expensive. I don’t want to live with a roommate forever. Unless teachers start getting paid more, I don’t think that I’ll ever be able to afford to live alone in Chicago.”

Joel seems hesitant about his next query. “Do you ever think ‘bout comin’ back to Austin at all?”

Suddenly, you’re not too sure about that either.

You’ve been itching to go back and get as far from Austin, Texas as possible, but now, it means being far from Joel Miller. There’s a deep, sinking feeling inside of your chest at the thought.

Realizing he’s still waiting for a response, you have no choice but to tell him the truth. “I don’t think I’ll ever come back here, to be honest. Not to stay.”

“Oh. I see.” He sounds disappointed. “Are you—do you plan on visitin’ home again for Christmas?”

“I do. I’ll be here for Christmas and New Year’s.”

He’s being friendly. He’s being friendly. He’s—

“It’d be real nice to see you again then.” Flushing a deep shade of red, subtle regret flashes across his features, as if he’d said it without thinking. Picking up his glass, he drains the rest of his wine and you can swear he’s nervous. About what he’d just said, and about whether or not your parents, who are in such close proximity, had overheard him. Because what business did he have in telling their daughter it would be nice to see her again?

They’re both much too preoccupied. Your father is attempting to be slick checking his text messages underneath the table and you can tell by the smirk on his face that it’s one of his secretaries. He’s got a penchant for perky blondes in tight pencil skirts. Your mother is well aware of this. She is also aware he’s on his phone, but she turns a blind eye just as she always does and distracts herself by being the perfect hostess.

Feeling foolishly courageous, you turn back to him and nod, heart pounding against your sternum. “It would. It’d be very nice, actually.”

Relieved, he nods and murmurs quietly, “We’ll talk ‘bout it later, then. That okay, darlin’?”

Not wanting to seem too eager, you nod again and turn away from him, teeth sinking into your lip in a futile attempt to hide the giddiness in your smile—but the soft chuckle Joel elicits under his breath is a clear indication that it’s useless.

He knows how he’s making you feel. He likes it.

Your mother returns from the kitchen carrying two baskets of fresh crescent rolls, one for each end of the table. She sets one of them down right in front of you and you reach out to take one when a voice, one that sounds as awful as nails scraping down a chalkboard, remarks loudly, “Should you be eating so much bread, dear?” Ines, who’s sitting a couple chairs down, next to your grandmother, looks over at you and raises an eyebrow. There’s a smug little smile on her face, almost as if she were daring you to run your mouth like you’d done last year.

For as much as it pains you, you make your choice and decide not to take the bait. You pull your hand out of the basket of rolls and pick up your glass of wine instead, chugging it down like it’s water.

Frowning, Joel picks up the basket and takes a roll that you assume is for himself, but it’s not. Putting it on your plate, he shoots her a frigid glare. “Don’t you listen to her.” He says it loud enough for her to hear him. “You just enjoy yourself, alright?”

Your aunt bats her eyes, innocently. “Well, I’m just saying. If my skirt was that tight on me, I would be thinking twice about what goes into my mouth.”

Hushed laughter sweeps across the entire table.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” You slam your empty glass down so hard onto the table that the entire dining room goes completely silent. The little ones at the children’s table stare with big and wide eyes, mouths full of food hung open because a grown up had just used a naughty word.

Your mother says your name warningly. “Don’t you start,” she hisses, shaking her head. “Be quiet.”

Angrily, you round on her. “Seriously? You’re going to let her say that to me? You don’t care that she’s making comments about my weight?” You almost laugh. Of course doesn’t care, she has never cared and she never will. “I’m your daughter! Would it kill you to defend me for once in your fucking life?”

“Shut your mouth!” Your father stands up, shoving a threatening finger into your face, so close the tip of it almost touches the tip of your nose. He hasn’t put his hands on you since you were nine, but he’s as drunk as he is angry, and you find yourself back in the shoes of the little girl who would curl up into a ball in the corner of her room as she begged and pleaded for him not to hurt her. “You hear me?”

Joel stands and walks around your chair. Placing a hand on your father’s chest, he mutters, “Hey now let’s take a step back from her, alright?” He guides him back down into his chair. “Ain’t gotta be in her face like that, Will.”

“I’m sick and tired of her ruining everything—can’t get through one dinner without her screwing it up! Always has to run that fucking mouth of hers! She still acts like a goddamn fucking child—”

You can’t bear to sit there and hear another insult.

Fighting back the hot tears that are threatening to spill over, you quickly stand up and rush out of the dining room. You make a beeline for the front door and step outside onto the porch. It’s about sixty or so degrees in Austin and the cold nips at your bare legs, but that’s the least of your worries. Without a place to go, you descend the porch steps and find yourself walking towards the swing that’s hanging from the old bur oak tree in the front yard. You had asked your father for a swing when you were three years old—it wasn’t until your brothers asked for a swing a couple years later that he’d hung one up.

You sit down, hands curling around the rope that’s so old and weathered it’s beginning to fray slightly but not so much so that you’re concerned about it snapping. You’re so busy trying to keep it together that you don’t notice the sound of crisp, autumnal leaves crunching under a pair of boots behind you. A hand gingerly touches your shoulder. You let out a startled gasp and glance over to see it’s Joel.

“Hey there, darlin’,” he says, gently.

You stare at him in surprise.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Needed to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” you grit the lie through your teeth.

Joel’s expression softens. “You ain’t gotta pretend with me, sweetheart.”

His concern is genuine. It’s real.

You don’t quite know how to handle it. Accept it.

“It got real ugly in there, ‘specially with your dad.”

Tears prickle at your eyes all over again. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Joel. I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” Baffled, Joel walks around the swing and a minor labored grunt escapes him as he squats in front of you. “There’s a few people who need to be apologizin’ for what happened, but darlin’ you sure as fuckin’ hell ain’t one of them.”

It’s odd. Feels foreign, even.

You’re not used to someone being on your side—it prompts more tears to spring forward and despite your best efforts to fight them off, it’s useless. You manage to whisper his name. It’s a feeble warning, one that’s telling him to go back inside before he’s caught in the torrential downpour of emotions you are mere seconds away from unleashing on him.

But he doesn’t budge. He waits. Joel knows you’re about to break and he’s ready to catch the pieces.

Finally, a tear slips and rolls down your cheek, only to be followed by another and then another. You’re holding onto the swing for dear life now, emotions that you’ve been holding in for your whole life now coming to the surface. The rope digs painfully into the palms of your hands. He reaches out and curls his fingers lightly around your wrists.

“S’okay to let go,” Joel encourages you and you’re certain he’s not just referring to the swing. “Listen to me, darlin’ girl. I ain’t gonna let you fall, alright? I’m right here to catch you. You can let go. I’ve got you, okay?”

You allow Joel to take your hands off the rope and he guides them around his shoulders as you begin to crumble. Leaning forward slightly off the swing, you wrap you arms around him and bury your face into his neck. “Joel,” you choke out his name as he wraps his own arms around your waist, pulling you closer into him.

He feels like stability.

He feels like security.

He feels like safety.

Your entire body shudders as you cry, cry, cry.

“S’alright, sweet girl. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

He repeats his reassurance over and over again.

He wants you to believe it.

And you do believe it.

Joel’s as patient as can be. It’s growing colder and his knees are begging for a change of positon, but couldn’t care less about the discomfort. He rubs a soothing circle into your back and waits until there is nothing left except little hiccups and sniffles.

“Shit,” you mumble when you pull back and notice you’d left behind a wet spot on his shirt along with light traces of mascara. You wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater. “I ruined your shirt.”

“S’okay. Nothin’ the dry cleaners can’t take care of for me.” Joel chuckles and lets go of you. “You feel a little better now, darlin’?”

“I do.” You glance over your shoulder at the house, then exhale a sigh and turn back to him, admitting quietly, “I don’t want to go back in there, though.”

He rises to his feet and pulls out a set of keys from the pocket of his black jeans. “Well, y’dont have to go back in there,” he states. “Is there somewhere I can take you? Friend’s house, maybe?”

“My best friend Megan went to Puerto Vallarta for Thanksgiving. Most of my other friends left Austin like I did,” you explain, sighing again. “Anyone who didn’t leave is spending their time with their family tonight and I don’t want to bother them.”

Joel hums, mulling it over in his mind. “Well, don’t know how comfortable you’ll be with the idea, but my place ain’t all too far from here. Ten minutes or so. Less if there’s no one out on the roads.”

“Joel, that’s so nice of you to offer, but I’ve already ruined your dinner tonight. The last thing I want to do is put you out even more,” you say, sheepishly.

“Sweetheart, you didn’t ruin a fuckin’ thing for me tonight. And you wouldn’t be puttin’ me out at all,” he promises. “S’gettin’ late and truth be told, I just wanna get you somewhere warm.” Holding out his free hand, he adds, “And comfortable.”

“But Joel—”

“I can be real stubborn too, y’know,” he teases you with a playful grin. “We’ll be out here all night long freezin’ our fuckin’ asses off.”

He isn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Okay,” you relent, accepting the offer.

You place your hand in his and he helps you off the swing. He doesn’t let it go as he leads the way to a sleek, black Dodge Ram that’s parked behind your grandfather’s silver Mercedes. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze before dropping it. “Sorry, sweet girl. It’s a bit of a trip up into the seat,” he remarks, chuckling as he opens the passenger side door for you. He gives you a boost into the truck; the scent of new leather is mixed with that of his cologne. It is all man and couldn’t be sexier. “Good up there?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

Joel closes the door and hurriedly walks around to the driver’s side of the pickup, climbing up into his seat with ease. “Seatbelt,” he tells you as he sticks the key into the ignition. The first thing he does as soon as the engine roars to life is turn on your seat warmer. He switches on the heater as well, waiting a minute before asking, “You warm enough?”

“I am. Thank you, Joel.”

“‘Course.” He nods and pulls away from the curb.

As Joel’s driving you further and further from your parents’ house, all you feel is sweet relief.

“M’sorry the place is such a mess.”

Joel leads you into his living room and touches his hand to the back of his neck, embarrassed.

Amused, you raise an eyebrow at him and say, “I’d hardly call cardboard boxes stacked neatly over on one side of the room a mess, Joel.” You take a look around his townhouse—most of his furniture’s still wrapped up in plastic, except for the black leather couch and the rustic, acacia wood coffee table. He has a flat screen mounted over the brick fireplace; he’s been sleeping on the couch, or at least, that’s what the pillow and Texas Longhorns fleece throw tells you. You turn to him. “If you want to see a real mess, you should see my apartment in Chicago.”

You watch him as he takes off his glasses and puts them down on the coffee table.

“S’it pretty bad?”

“My roommate’s a kindergarten teacher too. You’d be surprised at how many popsicle sticks two girls in their twenties can end up bringing home. Not to mention all the glitter.”

“If you’re tryin’ to make me feel better, it’s workin’ like a charm.” Joel picks up his blanket and drapes it over the armchair adjacent to the couch. “Go on and make yourself comfortable, darlin’. You thirsty at all? I’ve got water or I can make coffee. Also got a pack of beer in the fridge,” he adds, jokingly.

“What kind of beer?” you ask curiously as you sink down onto the couch.

He seems pleasantly surprised by your interest.

“Lone Star.”

“I’ll have one. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“‘Course it’s not too much trouble. Not at all.”

It’s hard not to stare as he walks away towards the kitchen. Your thighs clench together—his back, his shoulders, those unkempt salt and pepper curls of his that tuft at the nape of his neck right above his collar—this man is the epitome of utter perfection. Your mind wanders and you can’t help imagine the way your legs would look thrown over those broad shoulders. How his large hands would feel on your plush skin as they wrap around your thighs to hold them in place against his chest while he fucks y—

“Here you go, darlin’.”

Joel’s deep voice shatters your train of thought.

He’s standing beside you, holding out the bottle of beer, which he’d uncapped along with his own.

Blood rushes to your cheeks. “Thank you,” you say as you accept the beer from him, trying not to lose the sliver of composure that you’re holding onto—it wavers when your fingers accidentally brush his.

“S’it too cold in here for you?” he asks. “I normally keep the thermostat pretty low.”

“It’s a little cold,” you admit. “But it’s not a prob—”

It’s too late. Joel walks over to the fireplace and he manages to strike a match and light it with just his free hand. After tossing in a couple logs, he makes his way back over to the couch and he takes a seat beside you. “That a bit better, sweetheart?”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugs. “You said it was cold.”

He takes a long, generous swig of the golden lager before setting the bottle down on one of the green ceramic coasters on the coffee table. He sits back; an arm stretches out over the back of the couch in a casual manner and his legs spread open causing your thighs to clench together once more.

“You feelin’ alright?”

“Huh?” You then realize he is referring to what had happened at dinner. “Oh. Um. Yeah, I’m alright.”

Joel peers at you, his concern evident, clear in the depths of his dark brown eyes. “You sure?”

“No. Not really,” you confess, tracing the mouth of your bottle with your index finger. “But I’ll get over it. I don’t have a choice but to get over it.” Another lump starts forming in the back of your throat and you swallow it, quickly chasing it down with a gulp of beer.

“M’guessin’ your family’s got somethin’ to do with why you decided to leave Austin?”

“Bingo,” you deadpan. “I was so sick and tired of it all. How I was talked to, how I was treated. Like I’m such a fucking disappointment.”

He frowns. “You’re not a disappointment, though.”

“My parents think I’m a disappointment. My dad’s never told me he’s proud of me, Joel. Nothing I do, nothing I have ever done is good enough for either of them, but especially not for him.” There is a dull ache that settles in your heart and all you can do is silently will yourself not to breakdown again, not in front of him, at least. You sigh. “Do you know what it’s like, not feeling good enough for someone that is supposed to love you no matter what? Someone who’s supposed to love you unconditionally?”

Joel knows it’s a rhetorical question, he knows it’s not something you’re expecting him to answer.

But he does answer, because he does know.

“I do, actually. I know all too well what it feels like.”

He looks down at his left hand, which is resting on his thigh and you do too. Your eyes flicker over the fading tanline on his finger—where he once wore a wedding band. You don’t even think twice about it and reach over, sweeping your own finger over the patch of pale skin. Without missing a beat, you tell him, “You’re good enough, Joel.”

He can’t help but laugh a little. “She’d disagree.”

“She’s wrong.”

“You don’t know what happened.”

“I don’t have to know what happened.”

“That ain’t how it works, sweetheart.”

Stubbornly, you lift your chin. “I don’t care.”

Joel laughs. “Y’think you know me, darlin’? Y’think you know what kinda man I am? Hm?”

“I do know.” You place your hand on top of his and his jaw clenches. “You’re a good man, Joel Miller. I know that you’re a good man.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong ‘bout that.” There’s a brief pause and he hesitates before confessing, “A good man wouldn’t be sittin’ here just fuckin’ dyin’ to kiss his best friend’s daughter.”

You freeze and grip your bottle so tight, you would not be the slightest bit surprised if it shatters right in your hand. “You—you want to kiss me?”

“Since the moment you opened up that front door and said hello to me.” Joel shakes his head. “S’not right.” He’s riddled with guilt, with shame. He pulls his hand out from under yours. “I ain’t a good man at all. You’re half my fuckin’ age and I shouldn’t—”

You cut him off, softly uttering his name. “Joel?”

“Yeah?” His voice sounds hoarse. Strained.

“Can you—will you kiss me? Please?”

You need more than just his kiss, so much more.

You need him to unravel you in every way possible, but beggars can’t be choosers and if one kiss was all you’ll get tonight, then you’ll fucking take it.

Joel swallows dryly. “That really what you want?”

His eyes flicker down to your lips and then back to meet your sweet, innocent gaze.

“Yes,” you breathe in reply. “Please. Kiss me.”

He leans in, and there’s brief hesitation on his part and he stops mere centimeters from your face, his nose lightly brushing against yours. “We shouldn’t be doin’ this.” His warm breath fans over your lips; they’re parted, eager to meet his own. “I shouldn’t let this happen. I—I should take you back home to your family before I do somethin’ real stupid.”

Your heart sinks. “That really what you want?” you parrot his own question back to him and hold your breath, knowing there’s a chance his answer could be the answer that you don’t want to hear, the one that could end up crushing you.

Joel lifts his hand, cupping the side of your face in his palm. “‘Course it’s not what I want.” His thumb strokes your cheek, his dark eyes taking in each of your features. He’s studying, memorizing them, as if he’ll never get another chance to be this close to you again. With the line he’s about to cross, you’re both about to cross, that just might be the case.

The tension seeps through your skin and into your bones.

You exhale shakily. “Then just kiss me already.”

He moves his hand and gently curls it around your chin, holding you steady as he leans further in and closes the gap of space in between you. He moves slowly and he’s gentle—too gentle. You want to tell him you’re not made of porcelain, but you’re much too preoccupied with how Joel’s mouth feels, how perfectly it molds against yours. He delicately nips your bottom lip with his teeth. It’s a silent request.

He wants more, more, more. Your lips part for him, granting him the access he’s seeking. Joel doesn’t waste a single moment and he explores every inch of your mouth with his tongue, eliciting a whimper from you. Without breaking contact, he takes your beer and somehow he manages to lean over to set it down on the coffee table without dropping it. He then pushes you back into the couch and the next thing you know, you’re lying on your back and he’s settled in between your legs, using one of his arms to keep himself propped up, while the other wraps itself in your hair. Your own hands clutch at fistfuls of his shirt, fingers gripping the fabric so tight, the skin over your knuckles stretches painfully thin.

You whimper out again, the noise prompting a low growl to rumble through his chest—suddenly, he’s not being so gentle. He isn’t being rough. But he is hungry, he’s possessive, and he’s letting it show in the way he’s swelling your lips with his kisses, how his fingers are gripping the hair at the base of your neck as he firmly tilts your head backwards to give himself better access to your mouth.

Your mind is racing, and yet, you can’t think at all.

It’s not until his hips buck into you and you feel his bulge through his jeans against you that you break away from him. “Joel,” you gasp his out name. You grip his shirt even harder, chest heaving as you try to catch a much needed breath of air. You can feel the arousal pooling between your legs. The flames burning in the fireplace are nothing in comparison to the ones that are burning deep in your belly.

“Fuck,” he curses, pulling back. “M’sorry—”

The last thing you want is for him to be sorry.

“No! Please don’t be sorry,” you rasp, gazing up at him. Your eyes are glazed over with a lust you have never felt for another man before. “I want this, you know I want this—don’t you?”

Joel sighs, brushing a soft kiss to your temple. You wish he could take a peek into your mind, see how badly you want to be wrapped up in his arms—you want to get lost in his embrace, feel him all around you, inside you. You want him to write his name on your bare skin with his tongue, whisper his secrets into the spot where you’re aching for him most.

He sighs again and lightly shakes his head.

“Baby, y’need to think real hard ‘bout this—”

“I want this,” you repeat yourself. “I want you.”

Relaxing the death grip you have on his shirt, your hands release the fabric and move to the buttons. Your fingers tremble slightly as you undo each one of them; after an embarrassing fumble or two, you manage to get them all and push Joel’s shirt off of his shoulders. He sucks in a quick, sharp breath as your greedy hands begin roaming, exploring every inch of smooth, tan skin on his upper body.

Your touch erases all the uncertainty he’s feeling.

“Wanna feel you too, baby.” Joel takes the hem of your sweater and gestures for you to sit up slightly so he can pull it over your head. Carelessly tossing it somewhere behind him, he glances down, blood rushing to his cock as he takes in the sight of your supple curves clad in sweet, delicate white lace. “Christ, you look so fuckin’ soft.”

He doesn’t even realize he’s saying it out loud, not until he catches the flirtatious little grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. You sit up slightly once again and reach behind you to unhook the lingerie and take it off, adding it to the ever growing pile of clothes on the hardwood floor. Licking his lips, he meets your gaze for just a moment before dipping his head down, wrapping them around one of your hardened nipples. “Joel,” you mewl his name as he flicks the pebbled flesh with his tongue.

Joel releases it with a lewd, wet pop and he tosses you a smirk before he moves to the other to give it the same attention. He’s a biter, you find out as he takes it between his teeth, nipping over and over.

Your throbbing center clenches around nothing.

“Joel, please. I need you—I fucking need you.”

He tears away from your nipple. “Where, baby?”

You open your mouth to answer him, but your own gasp cuts you off as he starts trailing his lips down the length of your body until he comes to a stop at the waistband of your skirt. One of his hands finds the zipper on the side and he looks up at you, as if asking for permission. Desperate, you nod. Pulling the zipper down, he slides the skirt, along with the pair of lace white panties you’re wearing off of you and discards them, leaving you completely naked.

Your insecurities begin to trickle in, but Joel’s able to halt them right in their tracks.

“You’re too fuckin’ beautiful, sweetheart,” he says, his reassurance calming your nerves instantly. “So beautiful. So beautiful and so fuckin’ perfect.”

You watch as he makes himself comfortable—well as comfortable as he can—in between your legs. He shoots you a sheepish look.

“Knew I should’a put the damn bed together. But I been puttin’ it off and puttin’ it off all week long.”

You giggle breathlessly. “Who needs a bed?”

Chuckling, Joel feathers a kiss on your inner thigh.

Your smile is all but slapped right off of your face.

“Joel.”

Any traces of humor vanish. You’re both reminded of the next wall that’s about to be broken, the next line that’s about to be crossed.

He looks down and groans. “Such a pretty, perfect little pussy,” he remarks, his voice low, husky. “Bet she’s nice and wet for me, ain’t she baby?” He lifts his hand and drags the tip of his finger up your slit slowly, your slick coating his digit. He smirks up at you. “Oh, she’s fuckin’ soakin’, sweet girl. S’this all for me?”

Foreplay wasn’t in the vocabulary of guys your age and while part of you wishes Joel would hurry, you also find yourself enjoying the fact that he’s taking his time, teasing you—making you really want it to the point where you’re willing to fucking plead him for it. Joel Miller’s the only man you’d ever beg for.

He skims your other thigh with his nose and kisses it just like he’d done with the other. “Tell me darlin’ s’this where you need me? Right here?”

Frantically, you nod your head.

“Words, honey. Gotta use your words for me.”

“Yes!” you choke out. “That’s where I need you. So bad. Need you so fucking bad. Please Daddy—”

You freeze and momentarily, he does too. Truth be told, you wouldn’t really blame him if he just stood up, gathered your clothes and tossed them at you, demanding you put them back on and leave.

Joel raises an eyebrow. “Daddy, huh?”

Your face is on fire. “I—it slipped,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to call you—I’m so sorry, Joel. I’m not even sure where that came from. I’ve never—”

You’re on the verge of panicking, then notice there is a certain glimmer in his eyes and realize he liked it when you’d called him that. You’re taken aback.

He fucking likes being called Daddy.

“Sweetheart, there ain’t nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout. I promise. You can call me that. But on a condition.”

You stare at him, no idea what the condition could possibly be.

“Ain’t allowed to call anyone else that. Ever.” There is a possessiveness in his tone and it nearly makes you come on the spot. “That understood?”

You nod obediently. “Yes.”

“Yes what?” he prompts.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good. That’s a real good girl, honey.”

For a split second, you can’t breathe.

This man will surely be the death of you.

Joel plants one final kiss, this one on your mound.

“Please,” you whimper, the heat in your lower belly growing and fizzling out to the rest of your body at the feeling of his breath over your aching core.

“Please what?” he murmurs into the sensitive skin as his arms curl around your legs. “Tell Daddy—tell Daddy what you need baby, so he can take care of you.”

“Your mouth,” you beg him, desperation mounting with each passing second. Your hips buck upward; his biceps flex as he tightens his arms around your thighs, pinning you down in place. “Your mouth—I need your mouth. Please.”

Joel moves his head to the junction of your thighs, his mouth hovering right over where you needed it the most. He looks up at you with hunger, like he’s a ravenous, starved man who hasn’t had a thing to eat in days. “What a good girl,” he praises, dipping his head even lower. His mouth waters at the sight of your glistening folds. “Bet you taste as delicious as you fuckin’ look, don’t you, pretty girl?”

He flattens his tongue and glides it up your slit, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he gets his first taste. You gasp out when it grazes your swollen, aroused clit and your head falls back onto the couch. “Oh fuck,” you whine, reaching for his hair. You weave your hands through his graying locks and pull his face closer. Another swipe of his tongue causes your back to arch up off the leather and the edges of your vision to blur.

He pulls an arm from around your legs and drags a finger down your drenched entrance, lips securing themselves around your clit. His gaze stays locked on you as he pushes his long, thick digit into you—you feel him smirk as he curls it upwards, pressing the pad of his finger firmly against the soft spongy spot inside you, making you see stars. Joel slips in a second finger and curls it along with the other to double the pleasure. He begins thrusting his digits in and out of your warm cunt, eliciting what had to be the sweetest sounds that he’d ever heard in his entire life from you. He combines it with with slow, firm, and precise stokes of his tongue on your clit.

“Fuck, yes, just like that,” you encourage him, your loud, breathy moans bouncing off the bare, freshly painted walls of his house. “Yes Daddy, fuck—feels so fucking good, please don’t fucking stop—”

It’s not like you have to tell him what to do.

Joel knows exactly what he’s doing, and he knows it too. He listens to every single one of your moans and feels every single buck of your hips. He is sure to pay extra attention to when your hands pull and tug at his curls; he remembers what combinations of licking, sucking, and fucking make you squeeze your plush thighs tighter around his head; reminds himself of which technique brings your body off of the couch, what makes your toes curl. Joel’s quick to learn your body’s cues, each and every last one. He already knows when to give you more, when to give you less—when he needs speed up, when it is time to slow it all down.

You sing his name over and over again, pressure of an orgasm already building between your hips. His tongue swirls around your sensitive little bundle of nerves as his fingers pump in and out of your cunt and you glance down. You almost choke when you catch a tiny glimpse of the muscles in his forearm, the way they flex underneath his skin with each of his movements as he’s fucking you. Your gaze flits to his face. His own eyes are fixed intently on you.

You’re milliseconds away from release.

“Joel, I’m so fucking close. I’m gonna come—”

His arm squeezes your thigh in encouragement.

One last, broad stroke of Joel’s tongue on your clit sends an overwhelming wave of pleasure crashing over you. Strangled cries tear themselves from the back of your throat as your velvet walls flutter and convulse, squeezing his fingers. Joel, who’s face is still half buried in your pussy, takes it upon himself to help you ride through the high. He peppers soft, delicate kisses onto your swollen clit as his fingers continue to slide in and out of you slowly. He waits patiently until your loud cries dissolve into nothing but breathless little whimpers before he crawls up, positioning himself on top of you, a hand on either side of your head. His beard and mustache glisten with a mixture of saliva and slick—and somehow it it ignites another fire and you’re ready for more, so much more.

“Sweet girl,” Joel murmurs. Leaning down, his lips meet yours and you taste yourself on his tongue

You place a hand on his chest, right over his heart, which beats strong and steady against your palm.

You start dragging your hand down his chest, your fingernails raking over his skin. It travels lower and lower, gliding over the softness of his stomach. He tenses when you brush the waistband of his jeans.

Tearing away from you, he grits out, “Baby. No.”

You immediately snatch your hand away from him.

“You changed your mind?” you question, stomach sinking at the thought of it being over already.

You’re just so fucking greedy for this man.

He offers reassurance—and an explanation.

“No, that ain’t it at all. S’just—” Joel pauses briefly and flushes a shade of red. “S’just that, well, I ain’t got condoms on me, darlin’.”

Relieved, you assure him, “It’s okay. I’m clean.”

“Me too. But that ain’t what I’m worried about,” he admits, his face going from red to maroon.

You smile, finding his embarrassment endearing.

“I’m on birth control.”

Joel clenches his hands into fists. His cock strains against his zipper at the thought of it—taking your cunt bare. “Y’sure you want this?” He rasps out. “I need you to be a hundred percent sure ‘bout it.”

“I’m a thousand percent sure, Joel. I fucking need it. More than anything I’ve ever needed in my life.”

That’s all he needed to hear.

Joel stands up, his gaze never leaving your own as he kicks off his black leather boots. You sit up, and it takes every ounce of strength you have in you to remain composed as he unbuckles his belt, unzips his jeans and pushes them down his legs. You bite down on your bottom lip and try not to stare at his bulge like it’s your first time ever seeing a dick, but if he’s as big as he looks in his boxer briefs, maybe this would end up being a lot more than what your body could handle.

He hooks his thumbs underneath the elastic of his boxer briefs and slides them off, allowing his thick, hard cock to spring free from its confinement.

You swallow harshly. He’s fucking massive.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” Joel chuckles at the expression on your face as he kicks aside all of his clothes. His length rests on his lower abdomen and precome smears the skin there. Wrapping one of his hands around it, he gives it a couple strokes, just a hint of relief until you come into play. “Hm?”

Licking your lips, you nod and stand up. You take a couple of wobbling step towards him—Joel’s cock hasn’t been anywhere near you and you’re already fucking walking side to side. “Come here,” you say to him, taking both his hands in your own. You pull him back to the couch and gently guide him down into a sitting position. Swinging your leg over both of his, you straddle his lap. You gingerly place your hands on his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh softly when you feel him brush against your pussy; the contact makes you both moan in unsion. “This okay?” you ask him, breathily. You can’t be sure as to why you’re suddenly feeling a bit shy, like you’re not planning to ride his fucking soul out of him.

“More than okay.” Joel brushes your hair over your shoulder and then drags his hand down the length of your body, committing to his memory every one of your curves. “Gonna be a real good girl and ride my cock, baby?”

You gift him with a cheeky grin. “Yes, Daddy.”

The shyness begins to dissipate and you dive your hand between your bodies, wrapping it around his cock, causing his breath to catch in his throat. You lift yourself slightly off his lap, teasingly gliding the head of his cock down your drenched slit, then up, letting it graze over your clit, which is still senstive to the touch thanks to his lips and tongue.

Joel’s hands find their way around you, running up the curve of your spine. “Wasn’t aware that my girl was such a little fuckin’ tease,” he remarks in a low tone. He slides his hands back down and his large, warm palms cup your ass, fingers kneading flesh.

“Your girl?” you repeat, your heart skipping a beat, stomach fluttering at the idea of being his. “Is that what I am to you, Joel? Your girl?”

“S’that what you want, honey?” Joel whispers, his eyes finding your own, two hopeful gazes meeting in the deepest, most intimate moment that you’ve shared all evening. “Y’wanna be my girl?”

Leaning forward, your reply is preceded by kiss, so soft and so sweet his heart swells inside his chest.

“I do,” you mumble against his lips. “I really do.”

Still gripping your ass, Joel eases you up and lines himself up at your entrance. He bucks his hips and slides the head of his cock past your folds and into your heat. “Breathe, baby,” he whispers, his hands moving to your hips, thumbs grazing your skin. He slowly guides you further down his shaft, grunting as you sink down, taking him inch by inch. “Christ, you’re so goddamn fuckin’ tight—”

The initial stretch is almost too much for you. Your nails sink deeper into his shoulders as he pulls you down further down onto him. “Joel,” you whimper, biting back a loud cry. You’re fully seated, his cock completely sheathed inside you, his head pressing against your cervix. You’re so full of him.

One of his hands abandons your hip and slips over your lower belly.

“This where you’re feelin’ me, pretty girl?” he coos gently. “This where you feel Daddy’s cock? In your belly?”

“Yes,” you sigh out contentedly. “Feels so good.”

You lift yourself off of him, then slide back down in a slow, languid motion.

Joel’s head falls back onto the couch. “Christ.” He mutters the word, his chest heaving. Staring up at the ceiling, he takes a moment to catch his breath and silently wills himself not to explode. Once he’s managed to somewhat compose himself, he looks at you again, pupils blown so wide you can’t find a single trace of brown. “Go on, then,” he rasps. “Go on, sweetheart.”

The living room fills with the sounds of low moans and panting breaths as you move, alternating your maneuvers between rocking and bouncing on him in a frenzied, fast paced rhythm. The friction of his pelvis each time you grind into it winds up the coil between your hips and suddenly you’re desperate, so pathetically desperate for another release.

“Yeah, that’s it baby,” Joel encourages, feeling the beginning of his own climax building quick—much too quick for his liking. “Jus’ like that, honey. What a good girl you are for me, so fuckin’ good for me. Just like I fuckin’ knew you would be.”

“Fuck,” you whine. “You feel so good, Daddy. Feel so fucking good inside me—”

Leaning back, you firmly plant both your hands on his thighs and arch your body, head falling back as you pick up the pace. The burning fire casts a soft, orange glow around you and his jaw falls slack. His eyes drink in every single fucking thing about you, watch you with an adoration that, for the first time in your whole life, makes you feel wanted. Actually wanted.

“Joel,” you whisper his name over and over. You’re both beginning to lose track of where you end and he begins. You can hardly hear the praises that are spilling from his plush lips over the squelching wet sounds of your cunt sliding up and down his cock. There’s no chance to warn him—your mouth parts in a silent scream as you come undone on him.

“M’so fuckin’ close,” Joel grunts. He feels his cock twitch as your pussy grips him like a vice. “Where? Where do you want it, pretty girl?”

“Inside me. Please, I need you to come inside me,” you plead him, the innocent tone of your voice the last thing to push him over the edge he’s teetering on. “Fill me up, Daddy—please, want every drop of you inside me—”

Joel reaches for your arms and yanks you forward, into him. Throwing them around his neck, his own arms wrap around you and roughly slam you down onto him, holding you firmly in place. He bucks his hips upwards, balls tightening, his cock pulsing as he comes. Strings of hissed curse words and deep gutteral groans muffle when he drops his face into your collarbone. Still holding you in place, he spills his load into you, his seed filling you to the brim.

He sags back against the couch and pulls you with him. Wrapping his arms tighter around you, he lets himself stay buried inside of you, the primal in him relishing the heavenly feeling of his come dripping messily out of your pussy and all over his thighs.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he asks after a minute.

“M’perfect,” you mumble against his chest. You’re not sure if it’s because you’re coming down from a high or if it’s because he’s tracing patterns on your shoulder blade with his finger, but you shiver in his arms.

“Let me get the blanket—”

Joel starts to move to get up, but you stop him.

“No, please don’t,” you say, pushing him back. You put all of your weight onto him, as if he can’t move you off to the side if he really wanted to. “I—I want you inside me for a little while longer. Please.”

“But baby, you’re cold—”

You don’t bother explaining to him that you’re not.

“Just hold me. Please.”

And that’s exactly what he does.

Snuggling into him, you close your eyes and Joel’s hand strokes at your hair. Between that, the thrum of his heartbeat against your cheek and the sound of the fireplace crackling behind you, you’re nearly soothed into sleep.

“Joel?”

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“I hate Thanksgiving,” you admit, smiling tiredly to yourself when you feel a laugh rumble in his chest.

“Do you, now?”

You nod. “I do. But I’m really thankful for you.”

Giving you a gentle squeeze, Joel kisses the top of your head and murmurs, “Well, m’thankful for you too, sweet girl.” He pauses momentarily. “I ain’t all too sure how I’m s’pposed to just let you go home. I know I have to but—”

Lifting your head off of his chest, you take the side of his face and cradle it in your palm. You meet his gaze, heart sinking when you see the sadness that has replaced the lust from earlier.

He doesn’t mean home to your parents’ house. He means Chicago.

You graze his beard with your thumb. “I’m coming back in a few weeks,” you remind him, gently. “I’ve only planned to spend a week out here just for the holidays, but I can visit sooner. As soon as the kids go on winter break, I can come back to Austin.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Of course I would, Joel. I’m not sure how it would work what with my parents and all, though. I don’t want them catching onto us.”

“C’mere.” Joel brushes your lips with his before he makes his promise. “I’ll figure it out, baby. Leave it all to me and I’ll figure it out.”

divider credit to @saradika-graphics 🤎

[on-leatheredwings]

Mr. Sandman (18+)

Yandere Jason Todd / AFAB Reader

> romantic  > tw/cw: non-con, somno. reader has a vagina, piv sex, creampie(s). > Jason just can't get enough of you when you're awake; why would that change when you're asleep? > a/n: my first jason solo!!! WE UP! im a sucker for simpering, weak, vulnerable jason sowwyyyy . he needs u spiritually what can i say . > word count: 1.1k

Jason knows he shouldn't be doing this.

But who could blame him? You’re just so gorgeous. And so smart, so funny, so generous and so– so perfect. You are his god. He is your faithful acolyte. And your cunt is his altar of choice.

Jason glances himself in the mirror across your bedroom. He’s a hulking mass of muscle on all fours, hovering above your gently sleeping body. It would be a shock you haven’t woken up yet, if not for his stealth. He padded onto your bed, knowing just where the mattress would give soundlessly under his solid weight. Underneath him, you’re none the wiser. Innocent. Ripe and for the taking.

He shouldn't be doing this, he reminds himself, despite his bare erection already weeping precum in anticipation. 

You took him into your embrace, like a savior to a wounded dog. You decided he was loveable, of all things. 

He shouldn't be doing this, he tells himself again, despite his hands starting to wander. Your nipples poke sinfully through his wifebeater, breasts nearly spilling out of it anyway. You’ve dictated it to be your new set of pajamas. It’s much too long for you, falling past the start of your thighs. He peels it up, slowly, carefully. He leaves it to bunch at your collarbone, revealing your naked breasts. He swallows an appreciative groan, leaning forward and suckling on a nipple.

It’ll just be some heavy petting. Just some kissing. Just some marks so people know you’re his – he knows what to say so you won’t mind that too much in the morning. Just– just a few touches.

But then Jason’s hand wanders downwards. And when he cups your cunt with his hand – his throat tightens; he bristles, stiffens; heady desire intoxicates him and fogs his mind – all restraint comes crashing down. 

He was a damn idiot to think he could resist.

“Okay– Just a little. Just a little, I swear,” Jason groans, little more than a whisper, betraying his attempts at being quiet.

Jason, with expert vigilante fluidity, hikes one of your legs over his shoulder. He lowers and shuffles back to an eye-level view of your cunt, waiting prettily just for him.

He draws circles around your clit with his fingers, using his abundant precum as lube. A man possessed, he could watch all day at how easily and nicely you let his fingers in.

Fuck, you were made just for him, he bets. It’s not only his cock your pussy remembers; your body accommodates, obeys, and wettens in response to every part of his own. He’s barely even trying, pumping his digits back and forth. You’re basically drawing him in. 

Your mouth drops open, a soft whine falling out, and he freezes. His fingers are still stuffed in your puffy cunt. After a few seconds, you continue dozing off, although your brows pinch together with pleasure.

If you can wake up at any second, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least go the full mile. He slips his fingers out. Another whine from you. I know, I know, baby, he thinks. You’ll be full again soon enough. Jason slides forward and makes you both fit together puzzle pieces, cock against your folds. “Just the tip, I promise,” Jason says again. And so he continues. 

He’s in. He lets out a relieved sigh, nearly moaning. He’s in.

… But it’s not enough.

Before Jason knows it, he’s pushing forward, entering you fully. And every inch is well-earned – your tightness has him choked, panting and gasping. Yeah, he reassures himself. He fucking belongs here.

It takes him no time at all to start fucking his precum into your cunt. A near-frothy ring of cream grows at the fat base of his cock, a product of his speed and fervor. If he had the mind to, he’d be embarrassed at his desperation. But then he grinds your clit down against the root of his cock, frotting against your walls, and he could not be at all fucked to care.

Jason could start laughing, fucking you with wild abandon. As soon as he climbed on this bed, this was out of his hands. How did he ever think he’d be able to stop? He can’t even try to quiet down anymore. There’s the sound of skin colliding bouncing through the room, your mattress creaking from the intensity of him pounding you, and of course, his own heavy breathing. Fuck, fuck. Despite the noise, he can’t help it – he needs this.

Finally, the hot coil in him snaps. He shudders violently, veins visible in his arms and temple, mouth falling open into a moan. Face-to-face with you at this point, his breaths tickle against your cheek.

On his third orgasm, he’s finally spent. He marvels at the mess he’s made – the inside of your thighs is slick with his own makings, pearly white smeared across the canvas that his your skin. Your abused cunt is swollen and so, so pretty. His cock is still firing ropes into your body. 

Jason can't bear to withdraw himself, mind drunk with pleasure. Suddenly drowsy, Jason has to stop himself from collapsing on top of you. He gently lowers himself to lie down facing you. Both of you are on your sides, his cock still buried in your warmth.

You start to wake up, blinking away the blearly tendrils of sleep. You glance black hair and a shock of white. Mm. Jason, your sleepy mind thinks. Good. Great, even. The allure of continuing your slumber calls, as he rocks you back and forth, the motion almost sedative. Hips meeting yours, cock rutting into you…

Wait–

Your eyes fully snap open, body on high alert. You gasp.

“Jay–?” you squeak. Now fully awake, you register the full presence of his length in you and the pleasurable throb in between your thighs. And the utter stickiness of your thighs. 

Startled, Jason wakes up with a jerk. He doesn’t normally fall into such deep sleep. He feels panic rise. He was supposed to wake up after just a few minutes…!

“Fuck–” he begins, fumbling to roll away and unsheathe himself. But you curl a fist around the collar of his shirt, like pulling on a leash. You two stare at one another, both bodies still sweaty and warm. Your cunt is still full with him, his seed. Leaking. 

Fear thunders through Jason at getting caught. 

But then you pout. So cute, his dumb animal brain instinctively thinks. Even though you’d argue to him that you’re nothing of the sort. You smile mischievously, sinking onto his cock an inch.

“Now, Jay,” you say, tutting. “You should’ve woken me up first.”

[remuslupinslittleslut]

Poly!Marauders x Reader - Thighfucking

“Daddy, please”

“Nuhuh, baby, only good girls get to feel daddy’s cock in their little pussy”, Remus says, from somewhere above her head, “but you’ve been bad, so now other daddy’s gonna fuck your thighs.”

She feels Sirius spreading cold lube on her thighs and she looks down, sees his big cock dangling between his legs, hard and ready, she lets out a cry “Daddy… ‘s unfair”, she whines, earning a light slap from Remus.

“Little girl, don’t be like that”, he scolds, “did you not tease James today during lunch? Huh?” The questions make her squirm, she did do that, but it still feels unfair. Strong hands are stroking the insides of her thighs, spreading the lube around.

“Squeeze ‘em tight, baby, yeah?” Sirius asks, but it’s not really a question, it’s a command, so she complies, squeezing her thighs shut, spreading her calves to let him sit on his knees in between them.

From where she’s laying, Y/N can’t really see much, but she feels her boyfriend move his hard cock to the crack in her lubed up thighs and soon she can see the head peeking through before it’s gone again.

“Baby, you feel so good”, he’s saying, holding onto her thighs, but it only makes her more desperate.

“Daddy please can I touch you”, she’s pleading to Remus, “Want to make you feel good, daddy please.” He tsks, holding her wrists and ignoring the bulge in his pants, “Daddy, I wanna be good now, please let me be good, you can use my mouth and it’ll feel good for you.”

Sirius continues fucking her thighs, squeezing them tight and shoving his cock in the small space in between, grunting and making her whine, upset to not be able to touch her boys.He squeezes her wrists, “No baby, you haven’t deserved daddy’s cock, but someone does deserve to use your little face hole”, the hand not holding her wrists comes up to her face, squeezing her cheeks together, making her pout, “Jamie, come here, and let our little pet make it up to you. You can fuck her face while Sirius fucks her thighs, make some use of the little slut.”

[zegrasdrysdale]

I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE!! if you have time vould you maybe do a jack hughes smut where reader wears the rival teams jersey to piss him off and its like rough??

its been rotting in my brain for forever 😭

[ bitter rivals ] j. hughes

paring : Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary : just to make her boyfriend mad after a fight, (Y/N) wears a Flyers jersey to the Devils’ game against Philly in Newark … and she feels the consequences afterwards

warning(s) : smut ! rough sex, unprotected p in v sex, slight choking, hair pulling, possessiveness, pet names during sex. light angst

author’s note : hear me out … i was having a moment so i decided to tackle this request. not to mention i have been wanting to write something like this for a hot second so here we are. that’s how we got here so i hope y’all enjoy. i always have time to write some jack hughes smut too

༺═──────────────═༻

It's been nearly a week since their fight and (Y/N) hasn't heard from her boyfriend. Normally she wouldn't do something drastic since it's only been a week, but she feels like doing something drastic.

Instead of walking into the Prudential Center wearing a red 86 on her back, she wears an orange 11. She gets looks from a few Devils fans who know of her relationship with Jack, but she truly doesn't care. She knows will always be loyal to the boys in red and black despite trying to be petty.

After grabbing something to eat and drink, she heads down to her front row seats that she purposely bought just to make this point. She'll be right on the glass for Devils warmups in a few minutes.

Until then, she enjoys her chicken tenders and High Noon while fans begin to gather at the glass to get a close up look at their favorite players.

The Flyers come out first for warmups in their white away jerseys, then the Devils come out in their black alternate jerseys.

(Y/N) sticks out like a sore orange thumb in a sea of red, white, and black around her. She gets a couple of looks from the fans around her when she stands up. but it doesn't matter. She’s just trying to prove a point.

No one would blame her if they knew.

On the ice, she watches Luke skate up to his older brother. His eyes flicker in her direction. Luke leans into Jack’s ear and says something to him, who looks right at her. He has a look on his face that she has never seen before. He looks so angry.

When he starts to skate over to where she’s standing, Jesper intercepts him as soon as he sees where he’s going. He says something to Jack but Jack’s eyes never leave his girlfriend. She waves at him with a sly smirk on her face.

Mission accomplished. He saw her.

Jack slaps pucks at the net in obvious frustration or anger. She doesn’t know which it is at this point. She wouldn’t be surprised at all if he takes a few penalties during the game.

If he’s angry now, it’s just gonna fester for the next few hours. She’s probably screwed but it’ll be worth it in the end.

The Flyers jersey doesn’t deter her from cheering every time the Devils score a goal.

When Erik Haula nets his third goal of the night, she makes sure she throws the beanie she’s wearing onto the ice. Technically it wasn’t even her beanie. Jack left it at her apartment and never asked for it back so she stole it for the game tonight.

Throughout the game, she does notice that Jack glances at her a handful of times with a look of fury darkening his usually bright blue eyes. He sends glares at her when she cheers for the one goal he scored in the third period that secured the Devils the win.

An angry Jack has never scared her, but his anger has never been directed at her like it is right now. She’s either in for the worst night of her life after the horn blares when the game ends, or she won’t be able to walk tomorrow.

Like she usually does after a game, she meets up with the other wives and girlfriends in a lounge by the locker room. Kristen Haula is the first one to approach her.

“What’s with the Flyers jersey?” she questions.

“Needed to prove a point to Jack,” (Y/N) replies. “That’s all. I’m not jumping ship or anything. We just had a fight and he hasn’t spoken to me in like a week. I proved my point so next game I’ll be back in a Devils jersey.”

Before Kristen can reply, Jack marches through the doors and immediately scans the room. His hair is still dripping from his postgame shower and he looks very disheveled, like he rushed to get ready.

His eyes land on her and she presses her lips into a line. Jack takes large strides over to her so it doesn’t take him very long to cross the room.

“What the fuck is this?” he asks. “A Flyers jersey? A Travis Konecny jersey? Seriously?"

Kristen smiles and silently walks away while (Y/N)’s eyes remain on Jack. “What? You don’t like my new jersey?” she asks with innocence in her voice.

He bites his bottom lip as he thinks about his response. She gives him the smallest of smiles while the gears in his head turn. "I want you to take it off," Jack tells her.

"Oh, Jacky," she sighs. "You wouldn't want me to do that if you knew what I wasn't wearing underneath this jersey."

She watches his eyes darken. "Let's go," he says to her. "We're going to my apartment right now."

Her jaw drops and Jack grabs her wrist. "Who said I wanna go anywhere with you?" she asks as she tries to wrench her wrist out of his grasp. "You haven't talked to me in nearly a week, Jack."

Jack turns and faces her. "Wonder why," is all he says. She raises her eyebrows at him. "Let's go, (Y/N). We can talk at my apartment."

This time, she lets herself get pulled out of the Prudential Center and into Jack's car. Luckily she caught an Uber to the arena. A very small part of her figured she would be leaving with her boyfriend after the game.

Neither of them speak as Jack drives from the arena to his Hoboken apartment. Her eyes are on the passing buildings and cars. She feels Jack's hand on her thigh at one point but she doesn't react to it.

Yes, she was teasing him with the "if you knew what I wasn't wearing" comment. Yes, she hopes they'll fall into bed. Falling into bed isn't happening until they talk. She wants to know why Jack hasn't talked to her in five days before his dick comes anywhere near her.

It's a silent car ride and a silent ride up the elevator to Jack's place. She can still feel how annoyed Jack is by the fact that she wore the opposing team's jersey and still cheered for the Devils. She's annoyed too. She's annoyed because she had to wear the opposing team's jersey just to get his attention.

Jack opens the door to his apartment and walks inside. She follows him as he throws his suit jacket onto a coat hanger by the door. She shuts the door behind her and watches Jack unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt.

"Why?" she asks before he turns around. "Why did it take me wearing a Flyers jersey before I got your attention?"

He runs his fingers through his hair before he turns to face her. "I was thinking," he admits to her. "I was worried that I'd say something that I'd regret. I didn't want to hurt you, so I waited and actually took some time to think."

"Think about what?"

"Think about us," he softly tells her. "I wasn't sure if I was ready to find out if you actually meant what you said during our fight."

Her words come rushing back to her.

I don't know if I'm ready for this kind of life is what she had said to him.

"What did you think I meant by those words?" she asks.

"That you weren't ready for a life with me," he replies.

Jack is a beautiful man, but sometimes the smarts aren't there. Too many pucks to the head from Luke and Quinn.

"Jack, I meant that I didn't think I was ready to be an NHL wife," she tells him. "Of course I'm ready for a life with you, but it's everything that comes along with you. The spotlight, the eyes. I wasn't sure if I was ready for that."

The look that forms on Jack's face could make (Y/N) laugh. His eyebrows are raised and his mouth forms a little 'o'. She presses her lips into a line to suppress a smile. "I am such a dumbass," he says after he processes what she said. "Jesus Christ."

She wraps her arms around his neck and finally lets out a laugh. "You're my dumbass though."

When she leans in to kiss him, Jack pushes her away.

"Nuh uh," he says when she looks up at him. "I am absolutely not kissing you while you have that ugly ass jersey on. Not happening, (Y/N)."

Her eyes fall to the Flyers logo on her chest like she just remembered that she has the jersey on.

She reaches down between them and grabs the bottom of the jersey. Slowly, she pulls the fabric over her head to slowly reveal to Jack that she's not wearing anything underneath the jersey.

When the jersey is over her head, her eyes land on Jack. His eyes are wide while he looks her up and down. “Fuck, (Y/N),” he groans. “You really know how to piss a guy off. Not only are you wearing a Flyers jersey, but you didn’t even wear anything underneath.”

“Had to get your attention somewhere, Jacky,” she tells him as she gets up onto her tiptoes to attach her lips to his neck. “Glad it worked.”

Jack leans down and picks her up by the back of her legs. She wraps herself around him and keeps kissing and nosing at the skin on his neck as he walks somewhere in the apartment.

When he drops her on the couch, (Y/N) looks up at Jack and asks, “What about Luke?”

“What about him?” Jack settles comfortably between her knees.

“Won’t he be home soon?”

“Told him to find somewhere else to stay unless he wanted to see something that would scar him for life,” Jack tells her. “He told me that he’ll be at Dawson’s for the night. Now let me show you what happens when you decide to wear a jersey other than mine to a game.”

Yeah. She’s totally fucked. Literally and figuratively.

Jack ravishes her lips as soon as the last word leaves his mouth. A soft moan comes from her throat before she can stop it. One of his hands cups one of her bare breasts and the other cups her jaw. She tries to roll her hips against his to get some friction on her core, but he quickly puts a stop to that.

“I don’t think so,” Jack mumbles against her lips as he pins her hips to the cushion beneath her. “Only good girls get to come quickly tonight. You weren’t a good girl with the stunt you pulled.”

“Guess you didn’t like my new jersey,” she gasps as her boyfriend attaches his lips to the sensitive skin on her neck. “Or was it the fact that there was a different name on my back?”

The nip she gets is the answer she was looking for. Jack was jealous that another player’s name was on her back instead of his. She revels in the realization since it has been five days and it took wearing the jersey for him to talk to her.

He slowly begins to kiss down her neck and chest. He makes sure to give both breasts some attention before moving further down her belly.

Her fingers find a home in his now dry hair. She adores how soft his hair feels when it has just dried after a shower.

Jack’s fingers hook in the waistband of the leggings she has on. He slowly pulls the thin fabric off her body and kisses her hipbone when it’s exposed. She sighs as her boyfriend strips her of her pants. She kicks her sneakers off so Jack can pull them completely off of her.

She lets her legs fall open while Jack throws the leggings somewhere on the floor. Her soaked underwear is on full display for him. She watches his tongue dart out at his view.

“Touch me before I touch myself, Jack,” she orders him.

He goes back to hovering over her. A hand lightly wraps around her throat and she looks up at him in surprise. “You will do no such thing if you want to come tonight,” he retorts.

(Y/N) bites her lip at his words. She can’t remember the last time he spoke to her like this, but she is loving every second of it.

His other hand snakes between them and into the thin fabric of her underwear. A gasp comes from her lips as his fingers easily run through her slick folds. She wraps her hands around his arm to keep herself present.

“Jack,” she whines.

He cups her pussy and she has to stifle a moan. “Who does this belong to?” he asks.

“You, baby,” (Y/N) quickly tells him. “It’s all yours. I’m all yours.”

Jack leans down and presses soft kisses to her cheek and jaw. “Good girl.” His words shoot straight down to her already pulsing core.

Without warning, Jack stands up and pulls her up. He gets her on her knees and leans her against the back of the couch with her chest pressed against the cushions. In the reflection of the glass cabinet that’s behind the couch, she can see Jack undressing behind her.

He twirls her hair into a makeshift pony and gets on his knees behind her. Jack’s lips are on her neck right under her ear. “Tell me who fucks you until you can’t speak,” he whispers.

His low voice causes the knot that has formed in her belly to tighten.

“You do, Jack,” she replies. Jack pulls on the makeshift pony until she’s looking straight up at the ceiling. A soft moan passes her lips. “You fuck me so good. Only you.”

“Yeah, I do,” Jack mumbles as he presses her into the cushions beneath her. He doesn’t release the pony.

With one hand, he manages to get her underwear off of her and onto the floor with both of their clothes. She feels his hard dick between her legs and had to resist the urge to grind against it.

Her legs are practically shaking as she waits for release.

He leans over her and kisses the back of her neck for a second before he slams into her. She cries out in surprise because that was the last thing she expected to happen.

“Fuck, Jack,” she breathes out as he lets her adjust to him. “Give a girl a little warning before you destroy her.”

She feels him smile and mumble, “We’ll see.”

This boy is going to be the death of her.

A minute passes before Jack begins to rock his hips into her. She bites her lip to try and keep herself from making an embarrassing noise.

Eventually, she gives up because she’s worried she’ll make her lip bleed with how hard she’s biting down on it.

(Y/N) begins to meet Jack’s hips with every thrusts. She lets out soft moans and whines every time they meet. He lifts one of her legs up onto the back of the couch so he can get a new angle on her.

She has to lean against Jack’s chest as he continues to fuck into her at the new angle. “This pussy was made for me,” Jack pants into her ear. He wraps his arms around her to keep her steady. “Feels so good around me.”

She wants to say something, but she’s so overwhelmed with pleasure that she can’t form any. All she does is let out a soft whine in reply.

“See? No one else can fuck you speechless like I can.”

The knot in the bottom of her belly tightens. She has to force herself to form words. “Jacky,” she whines. “Wanna come. Been a good girl for you. Please.”

Jack kisses the swell of her ear and grasps her breasts. “You only wear my name, baby,” he pants in her ear. “My number on your back. No one else’s.”

“No one else’s,” she agrees. “Can I come? Please?”

He hums and she clenches around him as soon as she has his permission. She loses her vision for a moment as she comes on Jack’s cock. His name echoes throughout the apartment as she hits her high.

She had no idea that Jack could be like this. Maybe she’ll have to mess with him if she’s going to see this side of her boyfriend. She’s pretty sure that she’s never had an orgasm this intense in her entire life.

Without realizing because of how hard her orgasm hit her, Jack comes inside of her and slouches against her when he comes down from his own high.

When she comes to, she’s lying on her back on the couch and Jack is wiping her with a wet cloth. His boxers are on the lower half of his lower body and she pouts.

“Was that okay?” Jack asks before she can say anything. “I might’ve gotten a little carried away.”

She shakes her head and says, “It was perfect. It was more than okay. You were jealous.”

Jack laughs and shakes his head. “Maybe a little,” he admits. “I don’t like it when you wear other players’ jerseys.”

“Maybe talk to me next time and I won’t have to,” she teases. Jack rolls his eyes. “Anyway, can we go to bed? I wanna get your dick in my mouth and apologize in my own way.”

She’s surprised with how quickly Jack picks her up and whisks her off to his bedroom after that.

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

have a request ? check out the guidelines !

wanna be added to the taglist ? fill out this form !

taglist : @dasiysthings @ithinkimokeei @equallyshaw @dancerbailey3 @goldihocksrocks @love4lando @sweetinsatiable

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, smut, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> smut, oral / receiving, words -> 1K

abstract -> “Just watch and enjoy the show. Maybe you’ll learn a few things””

seonghwa’s perspective 

“You’ve been hogging her,” Hongjoong said and I scoffed. “You had her for a week, let me have my time with her,” I said and he rolled his eyes. “You’ve had her for two weeks already. The others are getting angsty without her” he said and I clicked my tongue. 

“Not my fault nor my problem,” I said but before he could say anything– “Hongjoong?” I heard… “Great look, you woke her up,” I said and he sighed. “It's my room too,” he grumbled. 

“He’s been mean to ya?” he asked, plopping beside her on MY bed. “You’re dirty–” “If you're tired you shouldn’t be pushing yourself,” he said ignoring me. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” she said and he smiled softly… I was glad she grew on him. “I’ll always worry,” he muttered. “Besides, Kun said his heat should finish in a little over two weeks so any day now he should be tired and sleep for days” she teased. 

“Maybe then it’ll be my turn again,” he said, her cheeks flushed. “Are you sure? We were a little tired that she should probably have my cum in her still” I said and he scoffed. “Seonghwa has a possessive streak doesn't he?” he said, turning to her, who seemed to only get redder. 

“So embarrassed… we’ve done the same thing together, don't be shy now” he teased and I had an idea pop into my head. 

“Hey, Hongjoong… wanna see what I did yesterday?”

no one’s perspective

Seonghwa didn’t like the thought of sharing you but for some reason, he could make an exception with the fellow tiger. The two on the bed seemed confused by what he said. He suddenly crawled over to learn about you. 

“Want him to join us, princess?” he asks you and it shocks you at first but then looks towards Hongjoong who then looks away embarrassed. “Aren’t tigers super–” “Possessive… yeah, so I wanna prove I'm better” he said earning a growl from Hongjoong. 

“Hongjoong do you want me to help you?” you asked and he stayed silent. “He’s trying to control himself,” Seonghwa teased, making him scoff as the white tiger laughed. “I think he needs a little push,” he said as he now took off your blankets to reveal the soaked-through panties that you lazily put on after Seonghwa came a few hours prior. 

“With how desperate you smell you might push my heat to be a few weeks longer. Let’s show him what he’s missing, princess” he said with that pet name of his… It was a funny coincidence that San and Wooyoung only ever use pet names during sexual times whilst Yeosang said it all the time… so similar to him and yet maybe that's why he argued a lot with the Doberman.

Seonghwa soon took off his shirt that he gave you lazily before sleeping after your last sex session. “Don’t you wanna touch her? Have you ever taken the time to feel her up? I bet you were a selfish heat partner” Seonghwa said as he trailed his tongue around your nipple.

He continued to make marks on your chest until he stopped and stood up from the bed. “Come on,” he said as Hongjoong followed what he wanted. The older pushed his shoulders down wanting him to kneel down to which the orange tiger complied and I had an idea of what he was positioning him to do.

“Come on Hongjoong… stop acting like you didn’t fuck her a whole week,” he said and Hongjoong scoffed. “This is different'' he said and Seonghwa chuckled “Ah, you’re right I’m so nicely decided to share her with you. She’s our lovely owner who’s offers to help us when we need it” he mocked.

“Look at how wet she is… all my cum already in there, waiting to be stuffed again,” he said while you tried closing her legs when I subconsciously put my hands on her thighs… “Hongjoong” you whimpered and he was trying to control himself from cumming in his pants.

“What? What’s wrong princess?” Seonghwa asked and he realized how flushed you were… The two chuckled at how cute and innocent you looked despite the situation you were in…

“What do you want him to do?” Seonghwa asked and you whimpered… Hongjoong not waiting for anything to be said kissed your clothed clit.

“Do you want him to eat you out? Make you cum with his mouth? Clean up my cum?” Seonghwa said as he now sat next to her head to pet her hair. Hongjoong continued to kiss her thighs, teasing her… “Please” she muttered and he chuckled. “Please stop?” Hongjoong teased and you shook her head. 

“Isn’t she cute?” Seonghwa asked and the orange tiger agreed. “Even when she’s moaning, she still manages to look so innocent,” he said and the two laughed.

“Mean” you muttered and they laughed again. “We’re being too mean, Hongjoong” Sseonghwa said “I’m sorry, do you want me to do this instead?” he asked as he ripped the soaked-through and messy panties.

Now they started by teasing your clit with his fingers as Seonghwa worked her up by kissing her neck and chest again before tasting her.

It was almost like the two were under a spell and they couldn’t stop… now you even gripped Hongjoong’s hair so tightly making his tail shiver…

“Pussy drunk Hongjoong” Seonghwa muttered as he stared at the other tiger with sadistic eyes… The tiger growled being pressed up against your clit but must’ve felt good for his efforts to be rewarded with another orgasm clearly shaking again. 

“Move,” Seonghwa said and the orange tiger couldn’t react when he pushed him off so easily. He lined up against her and the other scoffed. “I’m the one in heat,” he said and he laughed as he pushed into her making her squirm. 

“And I’m the one who’s mated with her before,” he said.

“Hongjoong, just watch and enjoy the show. Maybe you’ll learn a few things”

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

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[josephquinnswhore]

devils antics - joel miller x female reader

Summary: joel explores unspoken territory.

Word Count: 1.8k

Content Warnings: established relationship, age gap, daddy kink, use of pet names (angel, baby, sweetheart, honey), (reader mid 20’s Joel is in his 50’s.) somnophilia, dubcon, p in v, creampie, thigh riding, reader is asleep for most of it. Joel Miller wearing reading glasses 🥵

Note: game/og Joel is the love of my life if you don’t like him, go kick rocks.

It had been a day, Joel could concede the fact as soon as you had walked in the door. Usual infectious smile was nowhere to be seen, he felt unnerved by the way your lips were pulled into a tight line, noting how your bottom lip twitched in its struggle not to slip into a pout.

You were trying to stay strong, level-headed. Joel knew you were tough, you could handle things well, and when you couldn’t you’d always communicate the problem and together; create a solution to free you of your metaphorical chain and shackle.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” Is what he’d gotten from you, avoidant eyes and a wave of your hand, monotonous voice set him on edge. The stress radiated from your body like heat waves.

His hand slipped onto your shoulders, only adding to the extra pressure that they struggled underneath. “Let me at least run you a bath sweetheart, it’ll help you relax.”

Another disinterested reply, a shortened mumble of, “I’m fine. Just want to sleep it off.”

He felt stumped; you could be so stubborn. He was here offering solutions, ways in which he knew he could help and be of use and you outright refused. There was no negotiation, straight dismissal. He found it hard to admit that it hurt, god it hurt him. He felt rejected.

A voice of reason in his mind, told himself that he’d never seen her like this, that something so profoundly stressful must have happened for her to be like this.

As you’d said to him, once tomorrow would come and you were rested, they’d talk.

He spends a while in the living room; reading a few chapters of his book before he marks the page by folding the top corner over. A ghost of a smile grew on his lips as he heard your scornful voice in his head.

“You’re going to ruin the books Joel, use a bookmark for goodness sake!” He folded the paper anyway, maybe if you’d noticed it would give you another reason to talk to him.

His pointer and thumb reach up to take his glasses off, pinching them in the worn spot where the temple of his glasses meets the small silver hinge. He sets the book down, then places the glasses on top of them, he’s careful to make sure they’re leaning on the temples, not the lenses.

He feels a heavy feeling forming in his chest, like he’s worried you won’t want him there. Would you; want him there? The thought makes his hand hover above the door handle before he turns it, cursing the sound of the squeaky door hinges that could use some lubricating.

He was sure Tommy mentioned finding an old can of WD-40 on his last patrol.

You’re fast asleep, miraculously through the squeaky door and Joel’s heavy footsteps on the wooden floor throughout the house.

His heart swells when he looks at you; your lips are parted and there’s a frown strewn on your face, skin wrinkling around your eyes. God, you’d probably have crows feet before you turn 30.

“Oh baby, look at you.” He mutters to himself, shaking his head. You went to bed wearing one of his shirts and no pants.

He doesn’t bother to undress, not thinking he’ll get much sleep anyway. He lies there, turning his head to the right so he can watch you sleep, it disturbs him; how even in sleep whatever has you worried plagues you in your sleep.

Watching your chest rise and fall, his own breathing becomes synchronised with your own, heart beating at the same pace as he starts to grumble, his tired eyed begging to be closed for some rest. It takes mere minutes before he finds himself unable to keep his eyelids open.

He stirs, hearing soft whimpers coming from your lips, when he opens his eyes he sees that your lips are still parted, a small puddle of drool has accumulated on your yellow pillowcase.

He can’t help but chuckle at the sight. Until you whimper again, and he takes you in, he realises he’s in a predicament.

Your two thighs are wrapped around his own, locking him in place as your hips rut against his leg, the cause of those sweet sounds coming from your lips. He freezes for a moment; wondering what he should do.

He considers waking you up, shoving you off or even trying to pull his leg away to free himself of your devious grip on him. But he doesn’t. He feels a wave of sympathy.

Here was his poor baby, face strewn in a stressed-out frown and out of desperation, rutting and grinding her panty clothed cunt onto his rough, jean-clad thighs, like her life depended on it.

How could he deny you? He couldn’t.

He felt a tingle shoot down his spine, his cock hardened, stiff and uncomfortable in his jeans, as he watched you using his body in your sleep to get yourself off.

His poor angel is reduced to this, so stressed and exhausted from whatever you’re juggling has you so needy, so desperate and too anxious to ask him to actually fuck you to feel that release.

It was a no brainer to him-to help you. You were his angel, his baby. He wouldn’t let you suffer, you were too restless and you deserved to sleep without interruption. The peace of sleeping without stress on the back burner of your subconscious.

Desire washes over him, his large hands grip your hips, guiding you slowly to grind into his large thigh, still facing each other. His eyes flicker over your body, realising already, how you look less pent up than earlier. Calloused fingertips are soft on your skin as he grips your torso softly, pulling you closer into his chest.

His lips start kissing your neck, softly and gently, careful not to wake you. Small groans get stuck in the back of his throat as you continue to whine desperately for more friction.

He closes his eyes, voice husky with desire as he speaks. “It’ll be okay now honey, I’ll give you everything you need.”

Arousal fuels his actions, lips attacking your soft neck down to your collarbone, his hand sneaks under the material of his shirt on your delicate skin. He groans as he feels your nipples are hard against his thick fingers.

Your hips against Joel’s had slowed down, the rhythm becoming less synced, more sloppy, his heart pounded as he realised how close you were.

“You’re almost there princess, just let daddy take care of you. You know he looks after you.” He wasn’t trying to be quiet anymore, hell if he woke you up, he wouldn’t mind at all.

Moments later a string of quiet and frantic whines left your lips, body slumped and stilled as you cum from riding his thigh. The wet spot on his jeans is what drives him wild, a primal growl leaves his lips, and he can’t control the desire he has to take you here, as you slept.

“You wouldn’t mind”, he reasoned aloud. “You’d wanna help your daddy wouldn’t you angel?” He muttered as he pulled his jeans down to his knees, pulling his aching cock out of it’s containment.

His fingers peel your soaked panties to the side, cursing when he feels with his fingers that your cunt is dripping with slick. He couldn’t fight the devil’s temptation, the sin of lust had already possessed him and your sweet, sweet juices coated his fingertips.

He dragged his sticky fingers down his cock, pumping it a few times before lining himself up to your hole. He exhaled a few times as he pushes himself in, animalistic grunts leaving his lips at the feeling.

You stir for a moment, Joel stills and makes sure you’re asleep before he continues. He pumps himself into you, hips meeting yours in a slow motion, teasing himself, watching you be so vulnerable under him sent an arousal though his entire body.

He felt his orgasm coming on fast than it had ever before.

“That’s it angel..” He grunts, unable to stop the words from slipping past his lips. “I’m almost done princess, just let daddy use you.”

His body shakes heavily as he ruts into you, going deeper. His arms have moved so they’re now wrapped around you, and his voice is a little breathless and even more husky as he lets out small groans and moans.

But he's still holding himself together fairly well considering how close he is to falling apart. His body still tenses up, though, as he continues to fuck her while she sleeps.

Joel doesn’t feel bad, like he can’t comprehend why this would be such a terrible thing if you did wake up—he’s past the point of feeling guilty, he knows you’d want to be his good girl and help him finish.

“You're such a good girl.” He murmurs softly, his voice is slightly breathless and husky as he stares at her and kisses her softly on the lips.

He grunts softly and shifts his body even closer to her, so he’s flush against your chest. His legs are still shaking a little, and he feels a rush as he gets close to cumming and almost reaches it.

“Almost…” He trails off, his voice a mere whisper.

“Just... give me a minute... and I'm all done…” He adds softly, his voice cracking as he starts to come undone.

His grip on your hips tighten, cock now slamming into your hole harshly, crushing your body under his as he rams into you, Joel’s starting to lose his composure, not worried about waking you anymore.

He lets out an animalistic growl as he cums, long ropes of cum filling your spend cunt, trickling down your thighs and onto the bedsheets as his cock continues to pulsate into you.

“Fucking—Jesus baby you’re squeezing me.” He growls, feeling your cunt squeeze around him, you moan loudly and he realises that you’ve just had an orgasm.

Your eyes shoot open and it doesn’t take long to put the pieces together. Reality hits him as he realises what he’s done. Joel’s face suddenly turns to one of guilt, panic. He pulls out of you and starts breathing heavily.

“Baby—I can.. I’m sorry I wasn’t—I didn’t think.. I don’t know what came over me.” He stuttered, voice thick with emotion, his hazel eyes were soft and it was clear as day he couldn’t resist it.

You feel your face and neck warm as you take his hand in your own. “It’s okay, I like it—seriously. It’s sexy, the idea of you taking what you need and looking after me is perfectly okay with me baby.”

He starts to calm down, long arms extending to pull your body into his own, you’re both sweating and covered in cum.

“You’re so good to me angel. I dunno what I’d do without you.” He mutters tiredly, nuzzling his crooked nose into her hair.

This would need to be an in depth discussion. That could be done in the morning; for now, you were happy, Joel was happy. That’s means enough to fall asleep in each other's arms happily for a few hours.

[celestialzdiviner]

Just thinking about Nanami...

➻ Note: reader has female parts, tried to make this as gender neutral as possible. The grammar might also be off, so sorry about that.

Reblogs would be appreciated~

SFW

He would call you his in every pet name he calls you. It gives him a sense of reassurance that someone as amazing as you is his. Sometimes he would call you his spouse unconsciously when talking about you.

➸ “Sorry, my spouse is waiting for me at home.” ➸ “Excuse me, could you point to me where this flavour of chips is? My darling seems to be obsessed with these lately.” ➸ “Oh? a new cafe? Hm… I should tell my love about this, surely they’ll enjoy it.”

Due to the nature of his work, he sometimes has to cancel on both your plans. However, once he comes home to you, Nanami makes sure that you’ll feel loved — no matter how tired he is. After all, it is the least he could do after missing out on having some alone time with you.

➸ “I’m home… hm? You’re still awake? Hah… I have such a lovely partner…” ➸ “Let me take a quick shower and then we’ll watch a movie you like, how does that sound?” ➸ “Hmm… I missed you so much… ‘m sorry for cancelling…”

This man is such a gentleman, he will ask you for your consent for every kiss he is about to take.

➸ “May I kiss you, my love?”

If he comes home stressed, all you have to do is… cuddle! or make him lay his head down to your lap and massage his head. No matter how stressed he is, these two actions never fail to relieve him.

When you both sleep, Nanami likes to cuddle with your back facing him. He loves nuzzling his nose to your hair, breathing in the scent of shampoo you used and tighten his arms around your waist. In this position, he thinks that he can protect you more easily this way. Enemies will have to go through him if they even think about hurting you.

NSFW

I mentioned earlier that cuddles and a massage to his head could help relieve his stress. BUT. What better way than giving him pleasure to relieve him? Riding his thick cock as Nanami watched you with lidded eyes, hands gripping tightly on to your hips as he let out groans.

➸ “Hah… fuck… You’re riding me so well.”

This man knows how big he is compared to you – so when he’s feeling a bit mean, he would push the bulge of his cock from your stomach — loving how he could see how deep he is inside you.

➸ “You feel that? Yea… Come on, you can take more, can’t you~?” ➸ “Too big? ‘s alright sweetheart, it’ll feel good real soon.”

He takes advantage of the fact that he is stronger than you, pinning you down with just one hand while the other caress your hip.

➸ “So tight... yea?"

He may not admit it but seeing you crying while he’s deep inside you just arouses him to a whole new level. It unlocks a side he never knew existed.

➸ “So fucking pretty for me…”

He seems like the type to want to cum inside you every time he fucks you. The thought of having a family with you, a child calling him papa, your stomach round with his kids.

➸ “Fuck... can I cum inside you sweetheart? I want– ah shit– you’re getting tighter… You want that? Me filling you up with my seed huh?”

[chlmtsdoll]

hii I love ur stuff I have a request for reader getting her dream come true come to life which is modeling for alo like from your second fic !!

love u !!

You’re too kind 🥹 ily 🤍 this was supposed to be short n sweet but then I just couldn’t stop ! I decided instead of a blurb it’ll be part three to this series so thank u for the idea !! I hope you enjoy <3

PUSH YOU TO THE LIMITS

౨ৎ Pairing: Art Donaldson/Tashi Duncan x ballerina!reader

౨ৎ Summary: finally your dream of modeling for active wear besides your ideal model differences has come true, but the adoration and attention you pull leaves Art and Tashi wanting you just for themselves

౨ৎ Word count: 4k

౨ৎ Warnings: smut !, p in v (unprotected sex), oral (m) reviving, fingering, voyeurism, no use of y/n, sugar!baby reader, age gap (reader early 20’s), Art and Tashi dilf/milf age, lots of pinning, teasing, eventual filth, petite!reader, edging, praise and some degradation kink, pet names

౨ৎ part one | two | four

You couldn’t believe it, you finally made it.

Here in Florence. On your first modeling contract for Alo, you’d only dreamed of the day under a week ago.

You were bubbling with excitement from within, your perfectly manicured nails painted in a dainty French tip dug into the your skin of your wrists as you watched the sights beyond the SUV you were being driven in. You nibbled on your bottom lip to subtle the smile you just couldn’t hide away. It felt like you’ve completed life when it was all just beginning. And Tashi couldn’t have been more right, all the hard work you put in on your own, was worth the pay off.

You fidgeted with the sleeves of your cardigan in anticipation as you passed over a bridge, beautiful monument of the city ahead of you. Your cheeks heating up behind the glass of your window again in thrill, you then felt a warm hand set on your thigh.

“Are you cold, love ? Or is it too hot in here ?” Arts tone was gentle as he noticed your state, the corners of his lips turned up in a smile as his blue eyes met your glance.

“Could we get the ac down some ?” Tashi asked the driver as she hadn’t looked up from whatever paperwork she’d been examining in her lap.

“No, no. I’m fine.” You reassured with gratitude in your expression when you finally turned from your personal sight seeing to face the couple. “I’m just- so astounded. I can’t believe I’m here.”

“Well start to believe it. From ballerina, to tennis player.. to model.” Art had gave you an encouraging grin. “You’re unstoppable you know ?”

You couldn’t help but fall bashful under his words, flustering up all over again as you giggled coyly.

You were determined. Something you learned early on in your ballet days of always keeping your mindset forward and eyes on the prize. You hugged your legs to your chest as Art played with the ends of your softly kept hair.

You were over the moon by the fact Art wasn’t too busy with tennis that he’s able to accompany you and Tashi on your work trip. His wife encouraged he say back to rest up during his off season, but he insisted he’d be by his little ballerina gone model on her first job. It was a big moment.

“Ooh… can we stop and get pastries ?” You asked as you all passed by some of the most beautiful cafe’s you’d ever seen, eyes wide and almost drooling as you watched through the glass like a child.

“Later. They want you there early. We don’t even have much time to stop by the hotel.” Tashi replied as she finally brought her attention away from her work to glance out the window briefly, and Art just admired the way you looked at the environment like it was heaven. Always taken away by your joyous innocence for everything new around you.

You were adorable in his eyes.

Finally arriving, it was even more face paced than you anticipated. You were in hair and makeup as soon as you all had gotten inside the upscale building and your eyes tried to take in every inch of overly eloquent wainscotting that linned the walls as they could.

You couldn’t help but be ruled by intrigue any time you stepped foot in a new jaw dropping place with Art and Tashi. And soon enough there were people all around your tiny figure, trying to match up your foundation shade perfectly to your luminescent skin. Products being put into your loose locks to make it bounce and flow effortlessly for the cameras.

Tashi had rushed with part of the campaign team to run over your looks with a couple of stylists standby while Art stayed with you. Viewing as they made you look beyond picture perfect, which he would digress because you were everything above heavenly just as.

Before you knew it, you were dressed and ready in your first outfit on set. The fluorescent lights being adjusted to warm tones that made your skin glow in the five different lenses surrounding you.

Art and Tashi had only been a couple feet away as they observed from behind the cameras and rile of people all trying to capture you.

They caught sight of ever way your peachy yet plump lips sat as someone adjusted your gloss. Round doe eyes raised to the celling as they ran a camera test for you to settle comfortably. Your hair teased in the perfect way that made you look astonishingly elegant all while staying true to athletic.

You were everything above angelic in the couples eyes as your silhouette glowed. To everyone really.

No one on that set could take their staring eyes away from the way you naturally fell into posing. Having kept in mind when Tashi ran by you everything she picked up in her days of modeling, working fast but making sure to sell what you had been given. For the flawless way to grab the audience, make sure to tilt your head away from the camera just enough to dominate the spotlight.

And how you did just that in more.

Tashi rested a elbow in her hand as she viewed your stretches and high lounges when you twirled to let the camera capture you gracefully, her fingertip running over her tinted lips in thought, or more hesitation, as she waited for the moment to give you any notes. But as more time passed she just had to sit back and watch. You were leisurely making shot after shot for the crew of people snapping you.

The cameras adored your aura.

“She’s a fucking natural.” Art murmurs to Tashi as he stood by to observe the light that was you.

“Five two couldn’t stop her if she was turned down by the biggest company in the world.” The woman commented and Art let out a chuckle in agreement, they both couldn’t help but be in awe.

And when you had stood to take a break for a moment, you shot the couple a honeyed little grin, sweetness pouring off of you, magnifying them like magic or something. You watched as Tashi stood up straighter in her chair and Art’s tongue darted out just shortly to wet his lip when you floated out of the back rooms with new attire.

Soft stretchy grey fabric stuck to the curves of your skin just snug as you made the leggings and sports bra set you wore look like it should be worth millions.

“Fuck,” Art cursed out breathily at the sight. Your legs looking longer and even more toned than ever now, you tried to act like you didn’t notice the way everyone’s demeanor changed when you walked back in the the room and entirely filled up space liked you’d been some higher being.

All you could think is they just wanted more of you.

Your blush soft but prominent as you started to pick up on exactly what you had put down. Sudden twist in the rapture.

Tashi took a swallow at the saliva forming in her mouth, the woman noted one of the directors come up to adjust the way you posed there waiting in obedience. Fidgeting with her rings. They came up to whisper in your ear, and she tried to see her very best over cameras as you nodded.

She noticed a hand going straight to your inner thigh as they tilted you in a soft Arabesque.

Being so used to being propped and toyed with till perfection from the ballet. It was like second nature for you being the muse. And you couldn’t quite deny the fact that you even enjoyed the likeness of being a doll on display for everyone’s amusement.

Something about it felt accommodating to you. Even now, with the way Art had been eyeing your posture down. lips slightly agape as he sucked in a breath to chew at his knuckle briefly in the sight of the way your ass made shape of the glorious leggings, your chest was upturned just at the right degree for his viewing. It sucked in a breath that could of inaccurately been a potential growl.

Your lips twitched as you tried not to let a sly smile take upon your lips. You were still being posed with hands gliding all over your body like molding work while Tashi and Art fought god’s gracious battle not to pull you off of that set.

It all kind of felt like a game to you. A fun little way of showing them they weren’t the only two who wanted you anymore.

Now, you were their craft that could be easily taken and made for others to touch at any given moment if you let them. Turned into an absolute masterpiece of what they created of you from the bottom, now rising to the top.

Quickly as they could have seen it coming, you were profitable it was clear, more beautiful, talented and ambitious than ever. Determined to get everyone to see you shine.

That thought absolutely mortified Tashi more than she anticipated.

An ache started to form deep within the former tennis player as she recognized the glint in your eye. A new spark of power that you stolen over the room. And for the first time in a while, fear had really been trying to break her overbearing wall of calm and collect.

She narrowed her eyes over at Art, he had glanced back at his wife in exchange of some other kind of language you hadn’t fully figured out yet. But they were completely knowing of what had just went up.

Usually having control over whatever happened in width of everything you were — this was the first time they weren’t behind the wheel, and everything about that terrified them.

The expansion of what you could become.

When the shoot with Alo had been a full out completion of shots of you just spoiling the cameras with your allure, you rued the moment when you’d come down from the high. The glamour of it all might of been too much for your little head and small former ballerina background to handle.

“Do you think you’ll spread out to more than just athletics ? Do a- I don’t know, Vogue cover or something ? You could.”

Your high pitched squeal bounced off the bathroom’s enclosure as you’d nearly jumped from the bathtub you had been basking in, hands going to reach for Arts when his words were exactly what made you tick. You’d even splashed some of your bath water on him and he couldn’t help but let out a loud laughing at your reaction, making you giggle along.

“Oh my god ! Could you imagine ? Like really.. me. On the cover of Vogue. No way, no way-” your eyelashes now bare and softly coated in the mist of the steaming bath water. Art grinned at the way you leaned on the side of the tub into his warmth, his own finger trailed through the bubbles surrounding you while he sat just above the water.

Smile plastered to the curve of your lips that was all too pretty for him.

Tashi hadn’t said much of a word to the two of you since you’d all been back at the hotel, but overhearing your conversation with her husband as she readied a towel from the sink area made the thread unravel.

“You love it don’t you ?” Her tone smoky where you couldn’t tell if it was genuine wonder or coming from a place of knowing. It was never clear when it came to the enticing woman. “Eyes not getting enough of you, preforming for everyone in the room as a collective but specifically to haunt each individual differently, hm ?”

Both you and Art were directed to her lean body standing by the tap, fingers tugged at the cuff of her simple cream colored sweater as her eyes locked on you. The towel resting in her hands stretched for your entry.

“Come.”

You rose from the tub beneath you at her word, droplets of water ran down your naked body as you stood and faced the cold air without hesitation. Pruning hands covered your chest and Art rose to help you step out from the bath.

It was nothing for the drips of water to meet the floor as you glided your way to Tashi. She wrapped you up snug in the balmy cloth, examining the way you turned for her to dry you off smooth and in an unhurried manner. You couldn’t help but think about the coldness that probably bored her hands from underneath the towel and the way it would feel to come in contact with your skin right then.

And just when you let your mind wander her flush finger just missed your bareness as it crept to lift your chin so you’d meet her eye-line. You swallowed quickly as you searched her brown peering into yours and your hands only instinctively gripped the hem of your cover up, she filled your senses up ever so quickly.

“I don’t want you forgetting who made you, where you belong.”

“I won’t. I couldn’t.” You were stunned you didn’t stutter from the way Tashi’s free hand has been briefing the completion of your exposed thigh. Yet you never looked away from her entrance, Arts eyes had dropped from where your lips had been so close to one another, to the way Tashi pushed on your towel to reveal harden nipples against glass like skin.

“You don’t act like it. You act like you want to be touched, so badly. Yearning for it in everything you do, from anyone.. you’re that desperate for it you don’t even think twice to hide it.” Tashi spoke sharply down to you and your bottom lip sunk between your teeth as her fingertips only made soft slow circles around your sensitive area just by your core.

You put up a battle not to let a gentle nose escape your lips.

“No,” you croaked out with uncertainty. Your hand going to reach the counter giving leverage to you as Tashi made one in your space.

“Yeah.” Her mouth went to grade the tender lobe of your ear, “I think you need to be reminded who you belong to. Get those whore thoughts out of your mind before they get you in trouble..”

You only whined out breathily before a yelp came from you as Tashi pinched down on the meat of your inner thigh and it stung, sending bolts throughout your body, but quickly soothed by the way the woman’s slender fingers found your slit and grazed the wetness just settled around your pussy.

“Spread those legs for us, pretty.” Tashi made sure she hoisted you up on the counter, you were light as a feather to her hands and she made sure to push your legs wide so you were on display for her and Arts sight only. Your chest heaved as your heart race increased as you didn’t know what would happen in response. Was she upset ? Pleased ?

You felt Arts presence embark you as his big hands went to push a few strands of hair from your delicate face that had gone up in temperature rather quickly. The way Tashi’s middle finger went to toy with your clit made you hiss,

“You’re just our little thing aren’t you ? You’re ours. So sweet for us on display. Say it.” Tashi had been staring you down, eyes burning into the way your expression scrunched up with exhilaration as her fingers found their place stroking your cunt, your head might as well been done with how light it was getting from the tangency being all too much.

“I’m yours, I’m- - mm, yours” you whimpered out as your mind went cloudy from Tashi’s soft circles around your heat and freehand gripping your thigh to stay nice and spread. Your eyes watched the way Art licked his lips slow, the blonde also holding you with grace as your sputtering noises filled his ears.

You couldn’t help but peer into his blues, asking, begging, needing his touch too. You wanted it bad.

You craved it.

Tashi had picked up on it like anything else, her breath hitched softly as you drew closer to the way he watched you trip up on your words around the way her digits play with you, just gripping his arm like a safety as you dripped with wetness that coated the womans fingers.

“You want to ride his cock don’t you, baby ?” Tashi cooed at the way you eyed her husband, knowing all the dirty ways you’d been thinking right then of what he could do to your poor little body.

All you could do was nod your head, damp curls bracing your shoulders and a soft hum came from you, Art had leaned a kiss to your neck smoothly.

“Gotta use your words, babydoll.”

Your eyes had fluttered shut and your body practically jolted off the counter when his caress braced your skin again. Making your little whimpers turn into a ordeal of moans, and you could of sworn you saw Tashi’s lips twitch into a surreal but small grin.

“Yes. Yes, I want to,” you panted out before losing the blondes touch once again as he backed away from your shape. He ended up sunken on the suave couches that were in the center of the lux bedroom, just outside of the bathroom.

You could see him sit back on the seat, manspread and arm lounging it as his finger tapped in calm but certain anticipation of when Tashi had been done with you.

His pupils dialed and filled up with sudden lust that couldn’t be tamed any other way but sinking into the sweetness of his blossom like girl. You.

And you felt your legs snap shut, pulsing with need as your wide submissive eyes couldn’t look away from the man now. Want for him to fill you the brim took you over completely.

Tashi’s hands had been holding you by the waist as she watched your posture be lifted with need, her eyes traveled down your petite body and back to your fawning face.

“Go.” Was all she said before easing up her hold on you, lips turned a content measure as she let you from the counter top to your feet, watching as you trotted your way out the room as to where her husband was. She’d leave him to have his way with you, and she would go back to handling whatever business the assistant would have readied for her.

Art viewed your heaven like shape embarking him, small but full on show smirk across his lips as you hover him briefly, legs on either side of his muscular body and tits on full showiness for him as you eased into his lap.

The blondes hands immediately went to grasp at what he could, your hips, the smooth skin of your ass, his peach colored lips meshed with the side of your neck and to your lips in a sloppy kiss. You smelled of the sweetest sent of vanilla and cherries, skin like the softest stroke of a rose petal in his hands. You were delicate and so open for him to take from, willing and needy for his rough way with you.

“I knew you’d be a good girl.. mmm-” he groaned into your mouth as you kissed him back with greed, lips colliding like how to sky meets the sun, your exposed front sunk into the prime of his chest as he held you, and you’d know just below where Tashi left you wet and clenching

He was fucking hard.

Jeans becoming unbearable as he groped what was there for him to touch of you and you moaned softly with high pitched tones much too heavenly for Art,

“Need you, Art, please..” you breathed out, practically hanging off of just his sent as the man tried his best to pull from your divinity to get his pants off and far away from him. Fastened hands unbuttoning the fabric and unzipping his fly all while you kissed and nibbled on his earlobe.

Art lifted himself and you to push down his boxers, dick springing out on instant and he held himself in wait of you,

“bounce on my cock, princess, you got it.” Art panted as he pressed in the small of your back to arch your position on top of him, your face colliding with his hair in a mess as you whimpered at just his words, hands rushing to grab hold of anything in reach as your whines turned into a strangled cry at the way the head of his cock slid into you.

You held his shoulders and moaned out like a slut at the way he was sliding through your folds. Wetness like a blanket to him as your walls were tight and stretched, you could feel Art curse against your skin when you sunk all the way down on him.

Softly calloused hands on your hips tight, he leaned his head back against the rim of the couch, a hazy smile on his face as you rode him, hips gliding against his own as almost pornographic moans escaped from you instantly.

You felt him deep, rocking and bouncing where it was like nothing you’d ever experienced before, Arts groans filled up the space as your hips took him somewhere else. You were moaning out his name whist the sounds of slapping from between the two of you echoing. You took in every inch of what he gave you in a plea.

It wasn’t long before he had his way with you on as many surfaces of that bedroom as he could, you’d been fucked in so many different ways in so little time you weren’t quite sure how you’d handled it all only still being new to being so sexually aroused and active.

“Oh… oh. fuck! Yes-” You cried out as you’d been on your back now against the Arm of the couch, Arts hips snapping into you as he grunted at the sight of your soaked precum filled cunt taking him pound after another.

Your head dizzy and hanging from the piece of furniture as your body shook with bliss. With the feeling of you potentially being printed on magazine’s all over in the future and being Art and Tashi’s play piece had you on feeling on top of the world, you could say it was enough climax for you alone if you hadn’t been coming a third time right then.

“Shit. I’m gonna cum, Art.. I’m cumming !” Your warnings were so girlish and penetrating to Art, which he just ate right up, trying not to cum himself hearing you yell his name out like that. He kept your thighs flush to him as he pumped you through it and your body trembled with a string of breathless moans when your release hit.

It was so much before the tennis player had felt his own load coming quick, he panted as his body stilled.

“On your knees, sweetheart.”

You did just as he told you, knowing what came next as the first time he came in your mouth. You got on your chiffon like knees, and your fanciful eyes met his with a soft bat of your lashes as Art placed himself on your slick tongue.

You sucked him in till your mouth was full and you groaned softly, Art palmed at your hair from just the sight of your soft lips around his member, biting down on his own as he observed you swallow him.

“hollow those cheeks just like I taught you, princess.”

You held back a gag as you sucked him, holding his base in your petite hand as you slid him through your mouth, only pulling out slowly when you feel his cock twitch inside your enclosure. Art groaned as pumps of his seed were left on your tongue, you couldn’t help but give him a mischievous smile as a string of spit collected with his soft erection from your tongue.

The way he watched you with a grin made you feel like his sweet obedient little girl. Taking all his cum wherever he wanted. It made you blush even after everything.

You could feel the puffiness of your pussy clench just at the sight of the last few drops of cum escaping his cock, and Art had then reached to lift you up from the floor.

Scooping you up in his arms, you couldn’t help but let out a giggle as he held you close under your thighs, shivering body now calm with the rush. You wrapped your arms around his neck tight, not letting go even when he set you down on the bed with him.

“Next time, I want you to have me in front of the window.”

“God, you little minx, what have I done to you ? You just never stop.”

A string of giggles left you as Art kissed your neck, his charming laugh too easy on your ears and he wasn’t wrong.

[dogboytim]

hey can you write a story about Thomas Hewitt getting jealous when a man is talking to his S/O

OH BOY CAN I. ANON IM GONNA SMOOCH YOU FOR THIS.

This is more fluff than anything because I need this scenario out of my head.

It wasn’t very often Thomas got jealous. There was nothing for him to be jealous of most times. Nobody really came out that far unless that got lost. A similar situation to how you ended up here but obviously you had a more happy ending compared to most.

The Texas heat was rarely friendly, especially on days like today when you and Thomas were cooped up in Luda Mae’s shop. The small desk fan did nothing to cool the two of you down but they didn’t exactly have money for a good AC unit.

“Hey, sweetheart.” A thick southern drawl came from the door, causing both you and Thomas to look. The man definitely wasn’t from here. That wasn’t a Texan accent at all. It was clear from the way Thomas clenched his jaw that the pet name didn’t sit right with him.

“Can I help you?” You tried your best to sound polite but it came out more passive aggressive. You watched as the man strolled in, head held high like he owned the whole damn state. Thomas didn’t care much for people in general but this man was pushing his limits by just existing.

The man leaned over the counter, eyes looking you up and down like a stray dog eyeing a piece of meat. “I’m a bit lost and I was wondering if you had a map or something.” He moved closer, the top half of his body nearly over the counter. You opened your mouth to speak but you were quickly silenced when Thomas slammed a map down on the counter.

He had officially had enough.

The man took the map and gave your boyfriend a glare. You could see that if you didn’t get Thomas out of here soon, he was going to snap. You wished the man the best of luck and told Luda Mae that you and Thomas were headed home to cool off.

“Thomas, you do I love you and only you right?”

No answer. Not that you expected one anyway.

You sighed, pulling into the driveway. It was likely Hoyt would bring the man back for supper. You knew Thomas would enjoy killing him but right now you had to focus on reminding him that you loved him.

“Tommy.” That got his attention. He raised an eyebrow, silently asking what you wanted. Your hands found their way to his face, thumbs running over his cheeks. Gently, you lowered his mask. This was something he only let you do.

You kissed him.

That kiss made his heart flutter. Oh how he loved the way your lips melted against his. If this was what he got for being jealous, you can bet it’ll happen more often.

[reveluving]

Sweats nervously...

Erm..obesesive stalker! Graves x reader...🧍🏻‍♀️

Drops this and runs away

(headcanon by call.me.c0k3 on tiktok//)

WAIT COME BACK

WHO’S GONNA READ THIS THING I MADE NOW!!!!!!!!

Includes: mentions of s~mut; voyeurism, dubcon, mutual masturbation (minors DNI!), allusions to taking out those who wronged you, lovestruck!Graves takes it one step further in this one.

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

Good news, we can go about this with both shy!reader or operator!reader wise. So, STRAP IN.

Generally, just know that he has the means to learn about you with a few clicks on his computer, and he will use that to his advantage. That doesn’t mean he won’t be able to catch every little bit about you just by talking to you, of course. No doubt he’ll learn more than enough surface-level information about you within the first five minutes of you talking. 

Way more than the average strangers meeting each other for the first time, only to forget the other’s name within days. Plus, the Phillip Graves knows how to talk, but this isn’t some lady he’s trying to sweet talk for the night and then be on his way hours later. No, those days are over, and he never particularly enjoyed them anyway. 

You, on the other hand, were a spice of life. The darling he never thought he’d find, the dream he had locked in the back of his mind years ago because he thought with how tainted the universe is, including himself, it was just false hope at this point.

So, for you to just suddenly appear before him, be it as the unassuming beaut next door or the stunning force to be reckoned with, oh, he is going to make sure you know that he’ll treat you the way you deserve.

Even if how he goes over them behind the scenes can be a little… extreme. 

He wants to make the best impression on you. Will he totally change his personality and appearance just for your approval? Well, no. If you find out the guy who’s been trying to impress you isn’t really being himself, then he knows it’ll be an immediate turn-off. 

And as excessive as the things he does may be, he also wants this to work. For the relationship to bloom, to flourish as best and as genuine as possible. He’s never cared for anyone like this since… ever! 

He knows the name of the guy, no, the kid that broke your heart years ago. Growing pissed the longer he read the conversation you had with your girlfriends, about his cheating and even fault you for his ‘last resort’, all because you had dreams to chase, priorities to focus on. 

Apparently, he’s now a big name in his town. Perfect. Nothing a little exposure of his company for money laundering and inhumane working conditions to the press couldn’t do the trick. 

Or in terms of the shy!reader, the bogus buyers who never paid you for the floral arrangement you made the entire day. Easy, he’ll just anonymously transfer all of their savings to charity or some pet shelters nearby. You adore pets, and those teens clearly didn’t need the money anyway. 

He made sure to take note each and every one of them, of anyone who wronged you for future reference. 

Other than private parts of your life, he enjoys scrolling through your social media; fixated on pictures that had you in it, even imagining future photos or videos you’d take together once you two get together. No matter how many people were in it or what it was about, his eyes go straight to your figure. Screenshots aren’t uncommon, either, especially cherishing the genuine joy in your face. 

Then, there are the things you love.

He knew you’d adore the things he bought for you, regardless of what suited your fancy, like dresses, lipsticks, books, random knick-knacks. Anything. He traced the history of you scrolling through the store’s website on your phone via his system, buying the ones you lingered on the longest. He knew you’d like the restaurant he brought you to on one of your dates, not necessarily because it was fancy, though that was the icing on the cake, but what made your eyes sparkle was the fact that it specialized in your preferred cuisine. There were the little things too; your favourite songs, how you prefer the cake from bakery A to bakery B because the latter’s more dry, or even the irresistible smile on your face whenever he looks over at you with an amused raise of his brow. 

Hell, even quirks that you never knew you had!

Then, there were the… nasty ones. Absolutely filthy.

The kinds where he wished he wasn’t just the tiny camera on your vanity table or the tampered lens on your phone when you tossed it to the side, frustrated as you tried to chase after the peak of your orgasm. Yearning to help you, to give you what you were aching for when your fingers, pillows or toys weren’t enough. He’s never been so frustrated, his cock pulsing in his hand for more, even if he was handling himself a bit rougher than usual as he watched your gorgeous body arch and thrash on the sheets. 

The tiniest last grain of shame he had vanished the second he heard you moan out his name, and oh, how the stars have aligned in his favour. 

If he wasn’t sure before, he sure as hell is about his ways now.  He’ll make sure he’s the man of your dreams, if not, better.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Whumptober 2024 No. 28 Altprompt- Venom

I had to do so much research for this snippet guys, I really hope you like it!

“And this, my dear Hero, is where I keep my babies,” Villain said, opening a large metal door.

Hero followed them outside, astounded to see what looked like a mix between a zoo and a wildlife center. All kinds of exotic animals prowled about in enormous enclosures.

“Is this what you spent that stolen bank money on?” Hero asked in awe.

“Maybe~” Villain sang.

Villain strolled up to a tiger and petted it, the tiger purred loudly.

“Who’s a good boy, you are!” Villain cooed.

Hero kept their distance; they didn’t want to be tiger meat. Villain beckoned them over.

"He won’t bite,” Villain promised, “unless you’re a raw steak of course.”

Hero gulped, coming over. The tiger sniffed Hero’s hand, then pressed its head into it, purring. Hero stared slack-jawed as they stroked its fur.

“Aw, he likes you!” Villain smiled.

Villain showed Hero a number of other animals, all of which were rescued in some way or another and unfit to return to the wild. A scarlet macaw, a European badger, a very tiny species of deer. Suddenly, Villain’s face fell.

“Oh no,” they said, “not again.”

“What’s wrong?”

“My platypus,” Villain said, “he’s run off again.”

“Maybe he had to fight Dr. Doofenshmirtz,” Hero joked.

“Oh, this is no laughing matter, you have no idea what Percy is capable of.”

“What do you mean- AUGH!”

Something pinched their ankle, and Hero dropped to the ground, clutching it for dear life as electrifying pain exploded through it.

“Hero!” Villain shouted.

Villain bent down and picked up the offending animal; it was none other than Percy the platypus.

“No sir!” Villain scolded, putting Percy back in his home, “we do not sting people!”

“That thing is venomous!?” Hero screeched through the pain.

“Well, yes,” Villain said between Hero’s screams, “stay there, I have what you need.”

Villain ran to a cabinet near Percy’s enclosure. They pulled out a vial labeled “nerve-blocker” and a syringe. Filling it, they ran back to Hero’s side.

“Shh, I know, I know,” Villain soothed, “it’ll be over soon, I promise.”

Villain pulled up Hero’s pant leg and examined the wound. Their ankle was already quite swollen. Villain injected the contents of the syringe right into the envenomation site. After a few minutes, Hero’s screams died down to little whimpers.

“Why,” they panted, “do you have… that… in your collection!?”

“Percy can’t swim,” Villain said, “he wouldn’t make it very long in nature. I’ve gotten my fair share of stings from him. I’m just sorry you had to experience it. He is a bit skittish around visitors.”

Hero went to stand, but Villain stopped them.

“You won’t be able to walk for a few weeks,” Villain said, “I need to have you on nerve-blockers around the clock.”

“WHAT!?”

“Your symptoms won't subside until then, and you might still have trouble for a few months after that. Fortunately, I am delveoping an antivenom. I’ve been studying Percy’s venom and I think I almost have it down.”

“Wait… there’s no antivenom!?”

“No, but there will be as soon as I finish it,” Villain smiled awkwardly.

Hero couldn’t even feel their ankle now, which was far better than the last minute and a half, but that meant no heroics or anything at all really for some time.

“I’ll take care of you, Hero,” Villain said, seeming to read their thoughts.

Villain picked Hero up in a bridal carry and took them from the site, back inside their lair. They brought them up to a guest room and laid them down in a bed.

“I’ll get all the medical equipment hooked up to you,” Villain said, “and then we’ll talk about the recovery plan, okay?”

Hero nodded, their adrenaline wearing off and giving way to shock. In all of their fights, they had never felt pain like that. Percy was suddenly far more terrifying than any supervillain.

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@mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog

@electrons2006 @just-a-space-rabbit

[zhukzucraft]

Wild Life - Chapter 2

A fan-made Life SMP session project by Zhuk and Schmomo

>Chapter 1< or >Read it on Ao3<

“So you’re breaking up with us,” Martyn said, matter of factly.

“Is this supposed to be shocking?” Cleo asked, “You leaving to go be with Etho, instead?” She laughed a little, cycling through her inventory for her iron pick. 

“It’s nothing personal!” Bdubs insisted, quickly, “I just feel bad for the guy, you know?”

“He is washed up,” Grian agreed, his voice carrying from up high where he was building up their tower of cobble. 

“Exactly. Wait, no! No, he’s not!” Bdubs huffed, “But it was harsh how we all ditched him.”

Yesterday had been a mad dash for resources, like all first days in the Life games tended to be. Bdubs’ plan for starting the Life game challenge had remained the same as always: stick to Etho. But that hadn’t really played out the way he wanted it to. When he’d circled up with his group near the exposed iron vein on the side of the mountain, everyone had realized at the same time an important fact: He, Impulse, Cleo and Skizz were all dogs. 

Etho was not. 

“He’s a cat, Bdubs,” Martyn said, his tail swishing about in warning behind him, “A filthy feline, if you will.”

“Shouldn’t we be building bridges?” Bdubs tried, his own short tail quite flat against his body.

“No, we’re building a tower,” Grian called from above. 

Cleo snorted, trying to cover her smile with her free hand. 

“The man is lost without me,” Bdubs continued, “And I really just want to check on him, is all. Don’t you trust me?”

“Not at all,” Cleo said with a smile, “But go on then, find your cat boyfriend if it’ll calm your anxious heart.”

Bdubs rolled his eyes, turning away and padding to the edge of their platform. After the iron had run dry, Skizz and Impulse had ventured further up the mountains. Bdubs knew his history with fall damage well enough to stick to more solid ground. Cleo had decided to join up with Martyn and Grian who were discussing some grandiose plan to take control of the entire lake. He had followed them without a second thought. 

Now, he stared out at the vast expanse of water before him, “You know, we really should build a bridge–”

“No bridges!” Grian shouted, “That’s the whole point!”

Bdubs threw his hands up in the air, defeated with his teammates–former teammates? It was unclear at this point. Bdubs was about 65% certain he would come back to them. Maybe less so now that this base Grian and Martyn were insisting on would prevent him from any kind of sustainable horse travel. 

He pinched his nose and jumped into the water, shuddering as the cold temperature hit him. He pushed through, diving down past the many salmon and cod to head to shore. By the end he was doggy paddling, which was fitting he supposed. When he reached the shore line he shook himself out, his ears floppy atop his head and smacking him ever so lightly. 

His comms buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out. 

Solidarity has made the advancement [Diamonds!] Smallishbeans > ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Smallishbeans > HE’S THE FIRST ONE?????? Smajor1995 > just wait for the swimming in lava message to appear soon enough Skizzleman > i don’t have anything to contribute but as another S name i felt the need to say something GoodTimeWithScar > same! Grian > Your username starts with G, scar GoodTimeWithScar > are we starting our own train now, G? Solidarity > DOES ANYONE HAVE FOOD THEY CAN THROW DOWN MY HOLE?

“Poor fella,” Bdubs sighed out without even a hint of pity. He put his communicator away. He glanced around, seeing the remnants of other players from the falling leaves and missing dark oak trunks. He decided to keep to the edge of the forest, just in case. After a few hundred blocks, the dark oak gave way to a plains biome and–

“HORSE!” Bdubs shouted, sprinting over to the magnificent herd of beasts. There were six of them, all deep browns and blacks. Some were even spotted with white. “What beauties,” he praised as he petted one of the wild mares, who shook her mane out at him. He hauled himself onto her back, only to be bucked off. He was no stranger to the process, however, and kept at it, taming the entire herd by the time the sun was shining directly above him. 

“Now I just need a saddle,” Bdubs said aloud, before frowning. Right. He needed a saddle. What were the odds he’d stumble upon a dungeon anytime soon? He wondered if they were using the leather recipe in this game. That would be oh-so-fortuitous. 

He hadn’t been paying attention, and the horse he was seated upon had wandered further into the plains, toward the great big snowy mountain they’d all pillaged for iron yesterday. He wondered if Skizz and Impulse were still up there. Why were all his friends moving into such horse-hostile environments? Bunch of scum, the lot of em. 

The land opened up in front of him and he let out a surprised shout of terror. He quickly jumped off the horse, only to land precariously at the edge of the gaping ravine. 

That was a close one, Bdubs thought to himself, imagine being the first to die. And to fall damage too. 

He scurried backwards, giving himself a few blocks of distance. Sheepishly he looked around to see if anyone had seen him shrieking. Luckily, no one was around. 

Where the heck was everyone? Had no one decided to settle in these plains? He frowned, turning all the way around before getting himself dizzy. How was he supposed to find Etho with everyone hiding? Everyone was still green for void’s sake! There was no need to be so un-neighborly yet. 

“Cowards! All of ya!” he shouted out to no one in particular, cupping his hands around his mouth to make sure his important message carried. 

“Is someone out there!?”

Bdubs startled, looking around for the owner of the voice. 

“Hello!?” 

He narrowed his eyes, following the voice several blocks to the right. He stopped right before the ground gave way to another hole. 

“OH THANK THE VOID!”

All the way down below, surrounded by dripstone, was Jimmy. In full diamond armor. 

“BDUBS YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!” Jimmy shouted, “I'VE GOT HALF A HEART AND NOTHING TO MY NAME!”

“I don’t know about that,” Bdubs called back, sitting down on the edge of the hole, “You’re covered in diamonds.”

“I’ve got no wood, no tools and no food,” Jimmy lamented, “Please, do you have any food to spare?”

“How’d you manage this?” Bdubs asked, his ears perking up.

“There was some mild panicking when I dug into lava,” Jimmy said, “Very mild. I may have thrown half my inventory into it. These are minor details. Anyway, can you spare a mutton? I’d take it raw at this point.”

Bdubs cringed, “You’re lucky Scott didn’t hear that. He’d never let you live it down.”

“Scott’s dead to me!” Jimmy shouted back, “He and Joel and Etho found me just to laugh! The nerve!”

“Etho?” Bdubs blinked, honing in on his mission with laser focus, “You know where he went?”

“You get me outta this jam, I’ll take you straight to him, I swear on my half of a heart.”

“And one of your diamond pieces,” Bdubs added, standing back up. 

“You’d take the shirt off my back in my most trying time?”

“If it’s made of diamonds? Of course!” Bdubs replied, rummaging through his inventory, “After all, my hand might slip and grab my lava bucket instead.”

“ALRIGHT!” Jimmy shouted, “Just please! I can’t live down being yellow first again.”

Bdubs chuckled, taking mercy and flooding the hole. Jimmy quickly swam up, clawing his way onto solid ground and giving himself a firm shake to dry himself off. His long fluffy golden tail rained water droplets everywhere.

“Ah, a fellow dog of culture, I see,” Bdubs noted.

Jimmy cracked a smile, “Once a big dog, always a big dog. Woof, woof.” He picked himself up, taking off his diamond boots and handing them over. “Now please, some meat would be nice.”

“Oh I don't have any food on me,” Bdubs replied casually, slipping the armor on. “Should have probably grabbed some before leaving my crew, now that I think about it.”

Jimmy let out an anguished cry, hands shooting out to take hold of Bdubs shoulders. He dug into the iron armor there, “Are you KIDDING ME?” he shouted, close to tears, “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through!? Wave after wave after wave of creepers and zombies hounded me down there. Half a heart, Bdubs! I could trip and it’d be the end of me.”

“I’ve got a bed if you want to set your spawn here,” Bdubs offered with a bright cheery smile. Jimmy screamed out in aggravation. Bdubs patted his shoulder.

“Oh, that explains it.”

Jimmy and Bdubs turned at the sound of a third voice, and emerging from one of the rolling hills of this biome was Mumbo Jumbo of all people. 

“Mumbo!” Bdubs exclaimed, giving a friendly wave. “And on top of a mound!”

“Hmm? Oh! Yes! Once a mounder, always a mounder,” Mumbo replied with a grin, carefully hopping down the blocks to make it to their sides. His skin black and white tail shot out for balance. “Although, I’ve graduated to new heights this go-around. You could say I’m a mountaineer, now.”

“Well, ain’t that nice,” Bdubs complimented, “Are Skizz and Impulse with ya then?”

“Oh yes!” Mumbo assured, “BigB too.”

“Lovely catching up,” Jimmy interrupted, eye twitching, “But we have pressing matters at hand! Mumbo, do you have any food on you, bud?

“Hmm? Oh. Oh right, food. That would have been a good idea, wouldn’t it have been.” Mumbo realized aloud, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

“YOU PEOPLE ARE IMPOSSIBLE!” Jimmy screamed.

Bdubs laughed, patting Jimmy’s shoulder and spreading his other arm out over the horizon, “Look, we’re in a plains biome, I’m sure we can find ya something to munch on.”

“All the animals are gone already!” Jimmy snapped, “This is the life series not Hermitcraft!”

“There’s plenty of horses,” Mumbo pointed out, unhelpfully. 

“I CAN’T EAT A HORSE.”

“Not hungry enough, eh?” Mumbo replied. 

Jimmy paused mid scream to laugh, “Alright, that’s a good one.” He then returned to screaming, “I’ve got two ticks left in my hunger bar before I starve to death. And that’s gonna be on both your consciences now, I hope you know.”

“I’m sure I can convince Etho to part with some snacks when I find him,” Bdubs assured.

“Isn’t Etho a cat, though? At least, that’s what Impulse told me,” Mumbo said, “Why are you looking for him?”

“Because I’m me, Mumbo, that’s why,” Bdubs snapped. 

“Right,” Mumbo said, “Should have expected that. Anyway, if you’ll excuse me I need to collect some redstone down in that ravine. No reason, of course.”

“Of course,” Bdubs played along. He waved as Mumbo pushed past them, black and white spotted tail wagging behind him. He turned back to Jimmy, “Now which way did Etho go?”

Jimmy sighed,  “He went further up, toward Scar’s place, I think. Have you been there yet? Last I saw him he was making some sort of shanty on the lake edge.”

“And that’s where we shall go,” Bdubs announced. 

“I can’t sprint,” Jimmy said, looping an arm around Bdubs’ as a preventative measure. “Don’t you dare leave me behind.”

Bdubs laughed, but acquiesced. Slowing his pace down as they walked through the peaceful meadows. It was strange to see so few mobs and people. Eerie, really. But eventually from the fog appeared a new structure at the lake's edge. A fishing hut made of oak and spruce, already with a nice pier jutting into the water. 

Scar came into view first, arms waving about as he spoke to three other players. Even before he rendered, Bdubs could tell the tallest silhouette to be Etho, most likely standing beside Joel and Scott based on Jimmy’s previous recollection.

“ETHO!” Bdubs shouted, abandoning Jimmy completely to sprint over to him. 

Etho’s head shot up, and there was a soft crinkle around his eyes as they lit up in recognition. “Oh snappers, it’s a Bdubs!” he exclaimed, lifting  his hand to wave at him. 

“Why, hello there, Bdubs,” Scar intercepted, coming in between them before Bdubs could go in for the hug, “Welcome to my dock.”

“Right,” Bdubs nodded. “It’s a nice dock.”

“Thanks, I made it myself. Took all my wood,” Scar continued proudly, his gray and black tail swishing dangerously behind him.

“That’s not even true,” another voice snapped, and Bdubs quickly saw Lizzie coming into view. She was munching on a fish, her small ears folded close to her head, “I made the dock. You only made the shanty.”

“Details,” Scar waved off with his ever present smile. 

“Food!” Bdubs shouted, pointing at the half eaten cod in Lizzie’s hand, “Jimmy needs some! Lizzie can you spare a fish  for the starving man behind me?”

“Oh, Bdubs,” Joel groaned, his striped tail drooping in disappointment, “You actually helped him?”

“He was supposed to stay in the hole.” Scott clicked his tongue, shaking his head. 

“Dogs, amiright?” Joel offered cheekily. Bdubs couldn’t help but let out a petulant little huff at that. 

By that point Jimmy had finally staggered over to them, doubling over to rest his hands on his knees. “One tick! One tick left and I die before your callous eyes!”

“I’ve got food, Jimmy,” Lizzie assured, digging through her inventory, “But you’ll have to swear your undying loyalty to me first.”

“FINE!” Jimmy agreed. 

“See, this is how you get into so much trouble, Jimmy,” Scott commented, “You agree too quickly to things.”

“The man’s on death’s door, Scott. You can’t blame him,” Scar defended, even as he took out his own cooked cod to eat in front of him.

“To seal the deal I shall give you this!” Lizzie announced, handing over a bone. 

“Am I joke to you?” Jimmy growled, holding the bone, “You expect me to eat this? Just because I’m a dog? Har, har, har, everybody.” He pretended to give the bone a bite, only for his jaw to snap right through it. He blinked, surprised, nostrils flaring and bringing the bone to his mouth to properly chew on it. 

And then he ate it completely. 

“Oh,” Lizzie said, dumbfounded.

Joel started to laugh, “Did he seriously just–”

“There’s a terrible bone joke just waiting to be made here,” Scott snickered, politely covering his smile with his hand. 

Jimmy’s face colored, “Shut up! Just hold on a second,”

“Did it work?” Bdubs asked, intrigued. His floppy ears did their best to perk up.

“It…worked,” Jimmy confirmed, eyes widening 

“So I can punch you now? Thank void I’ve been having to hold back this whole time–” Joel started, pushing his way forward and winding his arm back.

Jimmy screeched, high pitched. Etho’s arm shot out to grab Joel by the scruff of his shirt while the poor golden retriever quickly ran behind Bdubs. “It didn’t FILL me up! I’m not anywhere close to healed yet. Get away from me, Joel!”

Lizzie stared at one of her bones, appraising it. Carefully, she raised it to her mouth and gave it an experimental gnaw. She grimaced.

“Let me try it,” Bdubs pawed at the bone, curiosity having gotten the best of him yet again. He immediately managed to snap it in half with his teeth, despite missing several. His eyes widened, “Huh. It’s not half bad!”

“This must be a dog thing,” Lizzie murmured, putting a finger to her chin, “I mean you can feed bones to wild wolves so it sort of makes sense.”

“Wait a tick,” Jimmy said, straightening up, “Wouldn’t that…Wouldn’t that mean…” He let his voice fade off as he rifled through his inventory to pull out a piece of rotten flesh. 

“Oh that is vile, Jimmy!” Joel snapped. 

Jimmy took a bite. His eyes widened. “NO WAY! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”

Bdubs tilted his head to the side. Jimmy handed him another piece of the zombie flesh and he took a brave bite. An explosion of flavors hit his tongue all at once. Savory rich barbecue with just a hint of heat at the edges. He could feel himself salivating for more as he gobbled up the supposed rancid meat. “Oh my! This is gourmet!” 

“Are you telling me, I’ve been panicking for the past few hours when I could have eaten any of the 40 pieces of rotten flesh in my inventory!?” Jimmy cried, sinking down to his knees. 

“This is amazing,” Joel snickered, “I’m glad you dragged us out here, Scott.”

“I’m full of great ideas,” Scott preened, flicking his hair back to emphasize the point. His blue gray tail swished behind him for added effect.

“Anyway,” Etho said, finally making his way to stand by his old friend, “Fancy seeing you here, Bdubs.”

“Etho!” Bdubs shouted, remembering the whole point of the day. 

“Shouldn’t you be with your pack?” Etho faux sniffled, turning his head to the side. 

“I came to check on you!” Bdubs insisted, pushing toward him. “Sure, I was led astray momentarily, but here I am in the end! That’s got to count for something, right?”

“I’m not letting more people move in with me,” Joel growled, putting his foot down. 

Etho patted Joels’ shoulder, lifting his other hand to scratch the back of his own neck, “Ya see, Bdubs, after that whole debacle, I kinda joined my own alliance. A Fe-liance.”

“Oh.” Bdubs took a step back, wounded. “Oh, I see.”

“Aww man, Joel,” Etho caved immediately, turning to the tabby cat, “Can’t we keep him?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But look at him. How could you say no to that face?”

“Easily,” Joel said. Scott laughed. 

“Gentlemen,” Scar clapped, grabbing everyone's attention once more. Lizzie made a loud ahem, her tail lashing out in warning. Scar quickly amended, “And Lady. Although this has been quite the joyous reunion, I do believe you three came here for business?”

“We came for information, actually,” Scott cut in, taking a step forward, “From Lizzie, really. I hear you’ve got quite the advantage in this game, this time around.”

Lizzie blinked owlishly, “Whatever do you mean?”

“Oh, she’s good,” Bdubs whispered to Jimmy and Etho, who were standing closest to him. 

“That’s the same look you pull half the time,” Etho huffed, crossing his arms.

“Game recognizes game,” Bdubs nodded. “Did I say that right? Gem taught me that one.”

“Joel told me everything,” Scott said bluntly. Joel’s ears pinned back, betrayed. 

Lizzie scowled, turning to her husband, “Joel! You had one job!”

“I didn’t know it was a secret!” Joel snapped, tabby tail lashing behind him.

“Of course it was a secret!” Lizzie huffed. She crossed her arms, glaring up at Scott. “Well, you already know, then. No fall damage.”

“No fall damage?” Etho repeated, eyes widening a fraction. 

“At all?” Bdubs added. “Well, wouldn’t that be nifty.”

“Interesting,” Scott continued tapping his chin, “What else do you know?”

Lizzie glowered, “Maybe that’s all I know.”

“Oh, come on now,” Scott started, his tone lilting as he bent forward to get closer to Lizzie’s face,  “You expect me to believe the great LDShadowlady spent all of her imperial days as a cat and learned only one thing?”

“Oh, Scott,” Lizzie said, turning her head shyly to the side, “You’re gonna make me blush.”

Joel visibly scowled. 

“Anybody got blocks?” Etho asked, “I gotta try this no fall damage thing.”

“Oh, it’s amazing Etho,” Joel egged on, eager to latch onto any distraction from his wife’s annoyance at him, “I went all the way to the height limit. You saw!”

“I did see,” Etho agreed with a light laugh. 

“Lizzie’s got cobble in her chest,” Jimmy pointed out, uncrouching from the chest he’d been rifling through.. 

Lizzie whirled around at him, “Jimmy! I saved your life and you’re going through my things?”

Etho grabbed two stacks easily, turning towards Bdubs, “What do you say, wanna give it a shot with me?”

Bdubs reddened, but he took the offered stack, “Oh, well, when you ask so nicely how could I possibly refuse?” Then he pocketed the stack and put his hands on his hips, “Are you CRAZY? I’m no cat! You think me a FOOL?”

Etho cackled, “Just keeping you on your toes, is all.” He wiped at his eye, and hopped up onto a block, “I’m still gonna check it out for myself, though.” 

Bdubs watched with growing wariness as Etho ascended upwards. He could hear the bickering around him start to die down as all eyes veered toward the white cat in the sky. 

“You know, this has me thinking,” Scar started, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “We could be a whole traveling circus. Think of all the trapeze arts! No safety nets. It’d be spectacular. People would pay a fortune to see it. And there would be absolutely no clowns.”

“Shh,” Joel shushed, “He’s gonna jump. Jump into my arms Etho!!” he extended out his hands, only to be nudged in the side by both Scott and Lizzie adding up to one solid tick of damage against him. 

Etho did jump and, without a drop of water,  landed on his feet before them. His tail pointed straight out for balance and his own eyes were wide like even he couldn’t believe it. Then he turned toward his audience and asked, “Did that make you jump?”

“Oh, BROTHER,” Bdubs lamented, rolling his eyes. Hopefully, his lambasting would cover up the jealousy and admiration festering just underneath the surface. 

“I didn’t go that far up,” Etho admitted sheepishly after a moment, stepping away from his stack, “But you know what, Bdubs? I bet you could water bucket clutch from that height.”

“No way,” Bdubs said.

“Perhaps we should change the saying from scaredy cat to scaredy dog,” Joel goaded. 

“Good one,” Scott replied flatly. 

“It was NOT,” Jimmy snapped, “Don’t listen to them Bdubs! You don’t need to prove nothin’.”

“Of course I’m not doing something that stupid,” Bdubs assured. 

“I’ll give you this saddle,” Etho offered. 

“Alright,” Bdubs sighed, pulling out the stack of cobblestone and starting to hop up into the sky. He ignored Jimmy’s squawking and Joel’s cackling, instead focusing on not slipping off his precarious tower. As he reached the halfway point he realized very quickly how stupid he was being. “Committing to the bit never did me wrong before,” he murmured to himself. He blinked and then snapped aloud, “Except for every time it did! What the heck am I doing up here!?”

He stared down at his audience and pursed his lips. He couldn’t mine down to them now. He’d never live it down. He’d bring great shame not only to himself but to all of dogkind. Plus, he really did want a saddle. 

“You’re a professional, Bdubs,” he reminded himself, shaking off his nerves and squaring his shoulders. He pulled out his bucket of water, counted to three, then counted to three again, and then finally psyched himself out enough to just jump at the number two. 

BDoubleO100 fell from a high place. ImpulseSV  > OH NO! IntheLittleWood > First Blood TangoTek > Jimmy you can breathe now! ZombieCleo > I let you out of my sight for FIVE MINUTES

Bdubs opened his eyes at spawn and let out a frustrated scream. He stomped around trying to let the anger out. Oh, he was going to murder Etho, his eternal alliance be damned. He started hoofing it to the otherside of the lake, lamenting his lack of horse. His lack of anything. Especially with the sun already starting to set. It wouldn’t be long until night befell them. 

“Bdubs! Over here!” he heard Jimmy shout. He turned his head to see that both Jimmy and Lizzie were running toward him, meeting him about halfway. 

“We grabbed your stuff,” Jimmy said quickly as he started chucking items out of his pockets and onto the ground. 

“I gave Etho quite the tongue lashing too,” Lizzie assured, “Put the fear of the void in ‘im for messing with my dogs like that.”

“Your dogs?” Jimmy questioned. 

“I gave you each a bone, didn’t I?” Lizzie reminded him. 

“I’ve got a bone to pick with a certain someone,” Bdubs interrupted, pushing past them after accounting for his relatively small amount of things.  He sprinted the rest of the way and in no time he found exactly who he was looking for. 

“ETHO, WHAT THE HECK!” Bdubs shouted, glaring as the white cat seemed to curl in on himself nervously. His white ears pinned so close to his head they became lost in his unruly hair.

“I swear I was gonna put down some water as a safety last minute,” Etho muttered, not looking him in the eye. He rummaged through his inventory and pulled out a horse saddle, “You still want the saddle?”

“I don’t want your BLOOD SADDLE!” Bdubs bellowed, stomping his foot for added effect. “I want my life back!”

“Uh,” Etho started, glancing over to his alliance for help. 

Joel stepped in easily enough, “Sorry, Bdubs, we don’t speak dog.” He grabbed hold of Etho’s arm, pulling him away, “Etho! Scott! Uh, we should go work on the base! That isn’t here!”

“Right,” Etho agreed as he allowed himself to be dragged, “We’ve got a tree to build.”

“You’re even building trees without me, now?” Bdubs called out, “I hate you!”

“Quite the tragic break up we’re witnessing, huh boys,” Lizzie commented, shaking her head solemnly where she stood between Jimmy and Scar. 

“What, you and Joel?” Scar blinked. 

“What? No! Bdubs and Etho!” Lizzie snapped. 

“But you’re sticking with me right? Not following your husband out there? I take loyalty very seriously here, Lizzie,” Scar warned. 

“Of course!” Lizzie waved off, “That man’s dead to me.” She ignored the strangled cry of I heard that from Joel, instead giving Scar a bright cheery smile. He echoed it and the atmosphere seemed to grow a bit tenser, enough for Jimmy to take a wary step back. 

“Timmy, where are you going?” Scar asked, turning towards him.

“Yeah, Jimmy, you’re one of us now, remember?” Lizzie cautioned. 

Jimmy swallowed, “Uh, right, about that. You know, you two being cats, and us being dogs–”

“The circus doesn’t discriminate,” Scar waved off. 

“You took the bone, Jimmy,” Lizzie reminded him sternly.

“Erm, Bdubs, what do you think?” Jimmy tried, turning desperately to the silent pug still watching the trio retreating in the distance.  

Bdubs ignored him entirely, instead screaming out “WAIT!” at the top of his lungs. 

Jimmy blanched as he watched his fellow dog sprint away from him, calling out a desperate plea of, “Don’t leave me here alone!”

Bdubs caught up to the cat trio easily enough. He stood right in front of Etho, who still looked too sheepish to meet his gaze. With his sternest glare he demanded, “Give me the saddle.”

Etho gave a nervous chuckle but handed over the item all the same. “So…we’re good now? No hard feelings?”

“Nope,” Bdubs answered with a cheery smile, “You’re absolutely dead to me!” He then swiveled round, racing back to  join Lizzie, Scar and Jimmy where he left them. 

“Oh, thank the void you didn’t abandon me,” Jimmy sighed out in relief. 

“Abandon you? No! Never!” Bdubs assured, throwing an arm around the taller dog, “We’re bone brothers now.”

Lizzie cheered and Scar gave his own approving cackle as he swept them all in for a group hug. From within the inner circle, Bdubs continued, “Alright, new family, here’s the deal. I’ve got intel I can share about a whole host of these TRAITORS on this server.”

Still, even as he shared all he knew about the locations of the other players and their species, he couldn’t help glancing behind his back every now and then, just in case. And each time his eyes met only the empty landscape, he felt the cold wrap around his heart just a little bit tighter.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

wibta if i straight up told my s/o they can’t bring their dog when they move in with me?

i (early 20s ftm) and my partner (late 20s nb) are moving in together next year. we’ve been planning this for a couple of years now, but it’s been taking a while to plan out because we live on different continents and we needed to sort out visas, travel, work situation, and getting an apartment for us for when they arrive.

importantly to this story, my s/o has a dog. this dog is large and VERY loud - barking 24/7 at everything, crashing into furniture, loud whining, pushing people over, and growling at people who get too close to s/o.; this has included me whenever i visit.

the apartment we got has a one pet policy and all of our neighbours are elderly people as the building used to be assisted living (basically housing for the elderly where they have direct lines to nurses and disability accommodations). it’s a pretty small block, it’ll just be us, one guy across the hall, one woman directly below us, and one across the hall from her.

because of this, as soon as we got the apartment we realised we wouldn’t be able to feasibly take s/o’s dog. she’s too big for the apartment, she’s loud enough that all of the neighbours will be hearing her at all hours, and there is nowhere nearby she’ll get enough exercise for her size. on top of that, she’d have to be in quarantine for 6 months once she’s here as is my country’s policy for pets travelling which doesn’t seem fair to her, and this is AFTER a 15 hour long plane ride where she’ll be alone.

i will admit that i have kind of selfish reasons for this as well. i’m autistic and i have both anxiety and c-ptsd on top of that, and all of those things are set off by loud noise, especially loud noise that is constant or repeated. even when i’m on the phone with them, their dog is always barking and hurting my ears and sending me into sensory overload, as is how loud they have to speak over her and when they shout at her to quiet down etc. when i visit i have to make excuses to leave or go somewhere else for a breather because within minutes i’m so drained and overwhelmed and upset just because of the dog’s insanely loud barking. i was also attacked by a large dog when i was very little and ever since then i’ve been wary around Big dogs, so although i want to work on it and i’ve been trying to (i love dogs), having one so big and jumpy be aggressive and growling at me makes me incredibly on edge.

s/o was sad because they really love their dog but ultimately agreed, on the condition we can get a cat instead as they’ve always wanted one but were never allowed. i agreed to that, i’m much more of a dog person and i’m a little sad we won’t be able to get one but a cat seems a fair compromise for them having to leave their dog and i don’t mind cats either, it will be easier to care for and hopefully just as cuddly!

so i thought that was all agreed on and done with

months later i mention looking into cats and they go “but wait! that means i cant bring my dog!” like this was the first time it had occurred to them. i was kind of caught off guard and was just like “…yeah, but we can get you your cat instead!” and the conversation kind of died out and moved on quickly

but ever since then they’ve been making little comments about bringing their dog and what we’ll do with her when we live together and it just… doesn’t seem to be sinking in that they cannot bring their dog.

i feel awful because like. i can’t emphasise enough how much they love this dog. they cuddle up together in bed, they’re always calling for her, always talking about her, always taking pictures of her. when they visit me they talk about missing her.

i know when it comes down to it they’ll choose to move in with me over staying to keep her, but i worry that i’m being selfish by making them choose in the first place. i feel like i need to make it clear once and for all that the dog absolutely cannot come with them and make sure it sticks, but i honestly don’t know how to do it in a way that will make them realise while not hurting their feelings because we’ve already gone over the reasons and they initially agreed.

AITA for making my s/o give up their beloved dog?

What are these acronyms?

[subskz]

Sub skz getting edged/overstimulated?

Pretty please 🥺

sure 🥰 i hope you meant combining the two bc that’s what i went with!

chan - channie is sooo good when he’s getting edged. he does start to get a little whiny and restless over time, but he still tries his best to keep his patience bc he wants to do well for you and he knows it’ll feel even better once he’s finally allowed to cum. he begs a lot even when it's clear it won’t get him anywhere, apologizes even when he's done nothing wrong, and he never forgets to say please in the sweetest, broken voice. it’s hard to resist him when he’s so earnest but at the same time it makes him all the more fun to tease~ he goes crazy when you coo over him and pet his head, promising it'll be over soon, only to deny him yet again. he's the type to whimper out a tiny "please please please" and push his hips up when he's close, then groan weakly when his orgasm escapes him for the umpteenth time. but he handles the edging part a lot better than the overstim, once he climaxes (and he cums hard after being edged so many times) it’s only a matter of seconds before he’s thrashing around crying out that it’s too much. he’s very sensitive and can’t take being overstimulated for too long, esp if you used his cum as lube to pump him even faster, he might start to cry a bit. but the sweet, pleading little sounds he lets out when you keep going makes it very tempting to see how much more he'll endure for you

lino - he has the biggest love/hate relationship with edging bc he does not have the patience for it, but the pleasure always pays off so deliciously in the end that he’ll do practically anything just to get his orgasm. it’s like a cheat code for making him obedient~ unlike chan, minho doesn’t shy away from voicing his dissatisfaction every time you edge him. he’s whining, provoking you, and mouthing off after being denied just once bc he’s so used to immediately getting what he wants. he definitely needs to be bound somehow or kept an eye on so you can smack his misbehaving hands away bc he will try to touch himself or tug your hand back to his dick once he gets desperate enough (he’ll hit you with those deceptively innocent glossy eyes too…good luck) the way he looks when you finally let him cum makes all his fussing worth it though. his eyes roll back into the prettiest expression and he shakes. funnily enough he complains less once u start to overstim him bc at that point his head goes blank, he’s the definition of fucked out. he enjoys every bit of the pleasure and pain with his jaw going slack and his body jolting so cutely. he can’t even think of anything clever to say let alone form a sentence, just moan after angelic moan

binnie - simultaneously the goodest and the whiniest boy on earth! he wants to be able to take it, to make you proud w how well he endures both the torturous rounds of edging and the overstimulation after, but he'll inevitably be whining up a storm the entire time. it’s embarrassing how he loses control of his body, bucking into into the air and letting pitiful little whimpers slip past his lips when the buildup of pleasure is lost yet again. he can’t help but make a few wrong moves out of reflex, like trying to gain friction to push himself over the edge or reaching for your hand with a whine when you pull away, but he immediately apologizes for it bc he really doesn’t mean to disobey you. you'd have to praise him through it all so he has the drive to keep going. he needs to hear those “good boy”s every time he’s left twitching without release, and he especially needs to hear you telling him how well he’s taking it once the overstim kicks in. tell him how pretty he looks, how beautiful he sounds, and he'll feel his chest swell with pride even as you stroke him until his dick is sore. his voice gets so sweet and high-pitched as he begs you to slow down, but he can take it all as long as your adoring words soothe him through it

hyunjin - how he handles edging depends on his mood that day. jinnie can either be the sweetest, most pliant baby boy or a little bit of a spoiled brat if he want to be put in his place. some days he’s so desperate for you that he’s grateful you’re even touching him at all, even when he feels his sanity slip more and more each time his orgasm is delayed. he moans out the prettiest, breathless “thank you” as his body squirms around in a frantic search of some relief. other days, he’s rolling his eyes, huffing, scoffing, whining, and grinding against the mattress when he doesn’t get what he wants. it gets harder for him to talk back the more you edge him though, his taunts morph into slurred, nonsense whimpers bc the only thing on his mind is how badly he needs to cum, he can’t find it in him to provoke you anymore. he definitely gets teary-eyed once he breaks and realizes you still have no intention of going easy on him. but regardless of if he’s being a brat or a good boy that day, he always loves the overstimulation. he writhes so beautifully in the sheets, arching his back and tossing his head around, you'd think he was trying to escape the pleasure but his cries for more say otherwise. he begs you to keep going even as his tears spill over, and once you're done with him he flashes you the cutest, blissed out lazy smile with his chest heaving and drool spilling from his lips

jisung - hannie starts off just happy that you're touching him esp if it's on a day where he was acting out for your attention, and he always naively thinks he's won once you get your hands on him. he's the easiest to break of all the boys, so it makes it extra fun to see how he reacts when you pull away right before he cums and he realizes what you're planning to do with him. his eyes get so wide and he immediately starts to whine, stutter out apologies and beg for you to take pity on him, he has absolutely no shame abt it. he keeps promising he'll do anything you say if you just let him cum, he'll obey you like a good boy!! if him whimpering "please, i can't take it ): i really can't take it anymore ):” with that irresistible pout doesn't sway you, then eventually he starts to tear up from frustration. he cries so sweetly bc it feels so good but it's not enough, he’s completely helpless and doesn’t know what to do w himself. he’s sensitive enough to accidentally cum even after you’ve pulled away, too, so you have to be careful not to push him too close to the edge. once you finally let him cum he just sobs even harder, bc now suddenly the pleasure he begged for is way too much. he moves around like crazy when the overstimulation kicks in, he's another one you might have to tie up just to contain his thrashing

felix - he loves this combination! it’s hardly a punishment at all for him, in fact, most of the time he’ll be the one asking you with the most innocent look on his face if you'll edge him until he's too far gone to even keep count anymore, then overstim him until he can’t remember his own name. he’s a good boy but his endurance isn’t the best. the repeated denial can get hard for him to take, but it's the overstimulation that he really wants, so he tries his best to power through without complaints bc his favorite part is what comes after. it makes lixie’s brain positively melt to have the promise of his orgasm dangled over his head for as long as you see fit, feel his high ebb and flow until he thinks he'll actually go crazy, and then feel it explode all at once in a slew of pleasure. he loves how dependent it makes him on you too, like he can trust you to decide what’s best for him, right down to whether or not he’s allowed feel good. he might break out into cute, desperate giggles when he really feels himself start to reach his limit bc he’s just so overwhelmed by the intensity of his orgasm when he finally climaxed and how it keeps amplifying the more you overstim him. he’s so grateful when he finally gets to cum, he’d definitely be babbling out “thank you”s over and over until it’s the only thing he knows how to say anymore bc the poor baby’s brain has gone haywire

seungmin - you will not find a more obedient or disciplined sub than kim seungmin (when he wants to be ofc…he’s very patient but that can be a double-edged sword in when he’s in the mood to be a brat) when he’s being a good boy he handles it like a champ! he wants to please you, and on top of that he actually has the self-control to tolerate being edged more than just a few times before he crumbles and starts whining. he enjoys taking things slow anyway, so he relishes in how you drag out his pleasure for longer than even he can imagine, it’s almost relaxing for him, to repeatedly stop right before he tips over the edge then hear your soothing voice murmur “good boy, just a few more, alright?” he’ll start to get breathless and pant harder and harder the longer it goes on, but even when his hair is sticky w sweat and his dick is practically glazed with all his precum, he bites his lip and powers through for you. the sight of overstimulated seungmo is so satisfying to watch. after what could be over an hour of you toying with his body with no relief, he unravels so beautifully when you finally let him cum and the pleasure he was dying for suddenly goes from not enough to too much all at once. it’s one of the few times you’ll ever really hear him get loud, his voice sounds so angelic ringing out in a helpless, sweet wail begging you to slow down. he definitely can’t handle the overstim as well as the edging but it’s a sight to die for

jeongin - he's like a combination of minho and chan; he doesn't have a lot of patience for edging, but he really wants to be able to do well for you. it makes things hard for poor innie bc on top of the ache that builds in his abdomen each time you edge him, he's also fighting an internal battle with himself trying to bite back the groans and pleas forming on his tongue. he’s another one who tends to squirm a lot and gasp out when you pull away at the last second, no matter how embarrassed he gets over his reactions he has a hard time controlling himself enough to stop, so he’ll be apologizing breathlessly through it all. he might also be prone to accidentally cumming even once you’ve stopped/slowed down. he gets worked up super fast so sometimes he surprises you w how quickly he reaches the brink of his climax again, but he always does his best to warn you before it happens. there’s only so much he can take before his desperation overpowers his desire to be good, though. he’ll start to get whinier and whinier the more you edge him (thinking of when he kept messing up at halli galli in that one live and started wailing “ah why? why? why?”smth like that hehe) he’s so so grateful when you finally let him finish, and he lets you know with the cutest choked moan how relieved he is. it feels amazing for the first few seconds, but it doesn’t take long for him to start twisting his hips wildly again once the overstim kicks in, this time, to escape the feeling rather than beg for more. he grits his teeth and hisses a lot, nodding frantically when you ask him if he can take more, no matter how much it aches. he definitely ends up a lil teary-eyed by the end of it too <3

[tubatwo]

sabotage - huening kai

summary: you and kai paint each other’s faces on live and he surprises you

pairing: gn reader x huening kai

genre: fluff; 1.1k words

requested by ohmahgods

“you sure you wanna do this? I won’t force you if you feel uncomfortable,” kai asks one more time, a gentle look in his eyes as he makes direct eye contact with you.

your relationship wasn’t new, but it hadn’t been that long since you two revealed yourselves to the public. while showing off some of his favorite plushies on live, he realized that he accidentally brought a teddy bear that you gave him. a teddy bear that just so happened to have both of your initials engraved on its feet. sure, kai could have come up with something but 1. he’d probably suck at lying and 2. he didn’t want to hide you anymore. so he acted impulsively.

‎

‎

you two had already had discussions about the topic and even talked to bighit staff about it. obviously, they weren’t on board at first but eventually gave you the green light. the only thing left was finding the perfect time to announce it. kai beat you to it, apologizing over and over for making the decision without you, but you were thankful anyway since you were a little shy.

and now here you were. the company phone propped up in front of you two and sets of paint scattered around the table.

“yes honey,” you grab his hands in yours as you return his eye contact, “I promise I want to do this with you. it’ll be fun!”

kai nods and turns toward the phone to press the big “GO LIVE” button. the next few seconds are a bit awkward since you have to wait for moas to start joining the live. soon enough, the chat is filled with shocked emojis and confusion.

WHAT

OH MY GOD??????

IS THAT HIS S/O

YOONGI MARRY ME

?????? who is that

DID HE GO LIVE BY ACCIDENT

“hi moa babies!” kai waves to the camera before taking your hand in his. “I hope you all don’t mind my super special guest!” you smile and wave before introducing yourself. “hi moas! i’m y/n, thank you for having me.”

y/n is so cute

is this a marriage announcement? keke

why can’t I look like them

THEY LOOK LIKE AN ANGEL

“some of you may remember my live where I showed some of my dolls and a very specific teddy bear… well this cutie over here gave him to me!” kai began, “I thought that it would be nice for the person I love to get to know the other people I love! so, we prepared fun things to do today while we talk to moa.” kai brings the paint into the camera frame.

“we’re gonna do some really cute face paints!” you explain while trying to get used to the speed of the comment section. kai chuckles before scrolling up to catch a specific comment. “baby look! moas think you look super pretty… oh, yes they are an angel… no this wasn’t by accident! wait a marriage announcement?!” his famous laugh echoing in the room, making you laugh as well.

after a while all of the paint bottles are open and you’ve both put on cute animal headbands to keep hair out of your faces. “moa! what should we paint on each other?” kai asks.

you should make kai look super cool!

draw a butterfly on y/n!

i cant wait to see the results

while the speed of the comments were making your head hurt, kai catches a specific one that almost makes an evil laugh slip out.

you should pretend to make y/n pretty but make it bad kekeke

“you want me to make kai look cool? hmm… what about like the movie avatar?” you ask the chat. kai lets out a playful gasp. “ah right, my baby is really good at drawing so i’ll look super cool!” his use of pet names makes you look over at him with wide eyes. he simply winks at you and tickles your chin.

W RIZZ

kai the rizzler

WHY CANT THAT BE ME

“okay, how about I paint you first and you do mine last?” you suggest. “okie!” kai agrees and you get started.

you alternate between focusing on kai’s face and responding to some of the comments. kai faces you and stares at you with love in his eyes as you softly brush strokes of paint onto his skin. the paint is cold on his cheeks, but you make them feel so, so warm. thankfully, the paint is covering his blush. he feels like he’s falling in love all over again, and he feels like the luckiest man in the world.

“you’re so beautiful, baby…” his whisper snaps you out of the trance you had while reading comments. your head whips around to see the lovesick expression on his face. at this point, it’s pretty obvious that he doesn’t care about showing pda with you live, so you try to relax a bit.

“says you! moa, isn’t he like a greek god?” you ask the chat while carefully cradling his face in your hands, showing him off to the camera. he laughs a little before shaking his head. “I mean it, you’re so handsome, your face is already a masterpiece.” you notice kai getting shy before he tries to lean in to meet your lips. you back up quickly and softly put your hands on his shoulders. “okay woah! 1. we’re live and 2. y-you have wet paint all over you!” you stutter while kai laughs at your reaction.

so im gonna die lonely

TAKING A NAP ON A BRIDGE

eventually, you finish the avatar-style painting on kai’s face and he takes a look at himself through the live screen. “wah! baby, this is so cool!” he exclaims, “you’re so cool and talented, i’m jealous!” you smile softly and rub his arm as a thanks. you make sure to thank moa in the chat as well for all of the compliments. while reading comments, kai wants your attention back, so he uses two fingers to turn your face towards him. the action makes you blush and the chat goes crazy once again. “my turn.”

were third wheeling i guess

IN FRONT OF MY SALAD?????

it seemed like an eternity passes before kai finishes your painting. with the amount of time he was taking, you felt grateful that he was putting a serious effort into it. however, it was weird how his hand stayed firm on your cheek, blocking you from looking anywhere else but at him.

HES SABOTAGING

LMAO

IS HE DRAWING WARIO??

HES SO WRONG FOR THIS

“okay, one last finishing touch…” kai says. you sit and wait patiently for him to pick up another brush, but instead, you’re met with a quick peck on your lips and the following words, “i’m sorry…”

you tilt your head in confusion at kai’s dolphin laugh before looking at the screen.

“HUENING KAI!”

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Ch 1 Arachnophobia: Fear of Spiders

Series: Phobia series

Pairings: Wanda x R

Word count: 997 WORDS

Summary: Clint gets a pet spider plays a prank thats not very funny. Wanda comforts you and Nat is there as well.

TW: spiders, panic attacks, getting locked in a room.

A/n new series

He just had to buy one didn’t he. Stupid idiot. I knew something was coming since i first reacted. It had been the morning of a perfectly fine Sunday. I had my regular bowl of cereal and a glass of juice. I was going to go sit where i sit every Sunday morning but when I entered the room and saw Clint holding the mother of all spiders i turned straight back around and went to my room instead. But not before I saw Clint shoot tony a sinister grin. That couldn’t be good.

It was a week later and the tower was quiet. Most people were sleeping in because for once there wasn’t much to do. Nat was training and Steve was out for his morning run. Tony was probably still in his lab and banner was probably with him.

Yawning you stretched out and threw your legs over the edge of the bed. Standing up you walked to the kitchen still in your Pjs. Putting on a pot of coffee you decided to have breakfast in your room so the sound of the living room TV didn’t wake anyone else up. When the coffee was done you poured yourself some and made a bowl of cereal. Picking it all up you made your way back to your room. It was almost nine am now so people would be getting up soon. As you passed the living room your brow furrowed as you spotted Clint and tony watching Tv. Those two never did anything good together. Hightailing it back to your room you shut the door with your foot and set the tray down the desk. Peeling back the sheets to get back into bed you froze. Sat on between the white sheets was a big hairy tarantula. Clints stupid spider. The scream you heard took you a minute to register as your own. Laughing broke out behind your door and you quickly crossed the room and jiggled the handle.

“Jarvis.” You said your breathing startling to speed up. “Jarvis open the door.”

“Im afraid Mr. Stark has initiated a code green lockdown of your quarters Ms L/n”

“Open the door now.” You said again. “Jarvis open the door.”

“Im afraid i cannot do that.” The AI responded. You began banging your fists on the door.

“Stark let me out. Let me out right now over your lab is gone by tomorrow.” You yelled.

“Calm down L/n jerry is great company. Give him a chance.” Clint said through the door. “We’ll give you two some alone time.”

“So help me Barton if you leave me here with that ball of fluff its gonna die.” You yelled.

“I cant hear you over all your bonding.” He called back and the footsteps retreated. You smacked your head against the door and let out a lounge frustrated scream sliding down the door. A moment later you heard hurried footsteps and a feminine voice call out.

“Y/n?! Are you ok?” It was Wanda. You cried in relief.

“Wanda please let me out.” You begged.

“Y/n/n the doors stuck. Hold on stand back I’m going to use my magic to break it down.” She said and you stepped away from the door and the bed at the same time. A moment later the door flew open and you threw yourself into Wanda’s arms. She grunted in response before wrapping her arms around you not expecting to be met with such force.

When she felt the collar of her pyjamas start to get soaked and small sobs wrack your body she carefully pulled you away her hands on your shoulders while she looked into your eyes.

“Y/n/n honey whats wrong?” She said softly. You shook your head and placed your forehead against hers signalling for her to read your mind before your buried your face in her collar again. Wanda wrapped her arms around you again and the two of you sunk to the floor of the hallway. Wandas back against the wall opposite your room.

“Do you want me to look in here?” She asked tapping your head and you nodded not removing yourself from her neck.

“Ok baby hold on to me and take some deep breathes it’ll be ok my sweet.” She said and began shifting through your memories of that morning. When she was done she was furious and held you even tighter. She knew how much you hated spiders and what Clint and tony had done wasn’t funny at all.

It was at this moment that the elevator dinged and you stiffened thinking it was the boys again. Wanda held you tighter and whispered in you ear.

“Its ok honey its just natty.” She said and Nat came over cautiously.

“Everything ok here wands?” She asked tentatively with an edge of concern.

“No. Not really.” Wanda said and you curled into her more. “Clint and tony thought it would be funny to put Clint’s spider in Y/n/n’s bed because she’s afraid of them.”

“Damn it Barton.” She grumbled. “I’ll do you a favour if i see the spider I’ll throw it off the roof for you.” You giggled slightly still buried in Wanda’s arms.

“In the meantime would you settle for me giving them a solid lecture and maybe a smack or two?” Nat asked.

You smiled into Wanda’s neck and nodded and nat smiled.

“I’ll get on that right away agent L/n” she said with a mock salute and Wanda chuckled. After Nat left to go yell at the boys Wanda picked you up with your legs around her waist and face still buried in her chest. She held you and walked you back to her room where she set you down on the bed still in her lap and threw the sheets over the two of you. She picked up the remote and put one your favourite sit come and held you while your breathing evened out until you eventually fell asleep. Emotionally exhausted.

MASTERLIST