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joelsgreys · 5 months

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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 is donning festive apron embroidered with fall leaves over her designer dress; 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 🤎

#asdfghjkl BYE #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x reader #dbf!joel #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x y/n #joel miller au #dbf joel miller #dbf joel x reader #fic: someone to be thankful for

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targaryenluvs · 3 months

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— photograph

pairings: luke castellan x hades!daughter!reader

summary: as much as you loved luke, you were beginning to believe he’d rather keep you a secret than love you in the open.

warnings: angst babyyy, arguments, jealousy, selfishness, insecurity, manipulation, violence, fights, makeups, makeouts, tension

a/n: based on this request - you guys i’m currently reading the books bc i’ve never and i only grew up on the movies lol i will be more accurate soon i hope! i’m not the best an angst bare with me. this can also fit photograph!! hope you liked it anon!!!

your relationship with luke was amazing.

you’d never dated anyone before, but you weren’t sure how you could ever move on from him. he was nothing short of a gentleman as well as your bestfriend. he confided in you, as you did him, you held eachother and loved eachother. the only problem was that it wasn’t open. being two of the most well-known people at the camp, luke expressed his desire to you to have something to himself, you, to himself.

and at first you didn’t mind.

you loved sneaking away with him late at night, longing stares from across the room, and stolen moments whenever available. no one found out, and he wanted to keep it that way.

of course there were moments where the two of you messed up. accidentally wearing his shirt, the longer length drawing some stares but you’d brush them off, no one exactly was going to call out the daughter of hades. where your hair didn’t exactly cover all of the marks he’d left the night before, his hands were in your hair, his clothes were in your sheets.

and the two of you were always able to keep it hidden.

until you didn’t want to anymore.

you wanted to love him in the open, show everyone just how much you loved luke castellan. you’d bring it up to him when you spent time together, the idea of letting everyone know was foreign and unnecessary in his eyes, but it was all you wanted. just to be able to show how happy you are with him and so neither of you will get asked out anymore. but his kisses on your neck and trailing hands seemed to draw you away from the thought.

you kept telling yourself you were fine with it.

but a girl can only hold on so long, you were done with it, with him. it broke your heart, even thinking of not being with him anymore but you’d rather be free and sad then unknown and happy. the two of you were sat together, stargazing in the forest, your own hide out, deep in the woods, a clearing for the two of you.

he seemed so happy, with you. the whole night he chatted away with you, holding your hand, kissing you, hugging you. you loved him so much, he was your other half, your luke. you felt as if you’d implode. your heart clenched at the idea of being away from him. you knew you couldn’t live like this, “luke?” he turned your way, still smiling, “what’s up babe?” his smile dropped at the sight of your teary eyes and trembling lips, “hey, hey what’s wrong?”

you swallowed, “i— i can’t do this anymore, i can’t be a secret. i hate having your nights and being ignored in your mornings, i hate looking at all the girls fawn over you, knowing your mine. i hate not being able to tell you how i feel during the day, not being able to walk up to you and hug or kiss you. i hate it, and i hate myself for hating it. i just want to be with you.” luke’s eyes were glistening, his hand resting on your cheek, “don’t do this, please. you agreed to this, to our relationship. please don’t ask for more, isn’t this enough? am i not enough?”

he held your hand, pressing it to his chest. you could feel his heartbeat, the rhythm you listened to most nights, lulling you to sleep. you could see the gorgeous face you adored, and listened to the heavy breathing of the man you loved. your smile ignited a flicker of hope in his heart, “no, it’s not. i don’t want to be a secret. i want to be able to tell everyone how much you mean to me, i want you to tell everyone what i mean to you. to be able to talk about our future and our life, plan out the biggest of adventures and our wildest dreams. i can’t do that with someone who’d rather love me in the dark of night than the light of day.”

and with that, luke’s heart was beating faster, a tear falling down and his relationship with you in pieces. all he could do was watch you walk away, a part of him with you. he wanted to get up and chase you, tell you how much he truly loved you, but he sat and stared.

the next few weeks were miserable for both of you. sleepless nights, missing the other, no one to stare at anymore, no one to pass love notes to, no one.

luke had the attention of the entire camp, everyone but the person he wanted.

you had the love of everyone but him.

you tried your best to hide it, the pain in your chest, the tears you’d rid your body of at night, the bracelets and necklaces you hid at the bottom of your jewellery box. trying to eradicate any memory of luke castellan from your eye and life.

whereas luke found himself seeking you out. the horrible drawing youd made of him, the beaded bracelet with your nickname for him on it, the chapstick you left behind and your favourite shirt of his. it still smelled like your own perfume. his favourite photograph of the two of you, a polaroid, you kissing his cheek, with both of your matching necklaces on display.

luke seemed fine to everyone else, of course he did. why would he be any different? whereas you were less chatty, energy drained, and happiness gone. no one seemed to ask, too scared of the reply.

three months, without him.

it still hurt, seeing him. but day after day, it tended to get easier to get up. your friends were your saviours, and strength. they could infer the reason behind your sadness, but they didn’t push you. everyday became a routine, get up, get ready, eat, get through the day and relax at night. you thought you were doing better, until you saw him. happy and uncaring.

and all of a sudden you were back where you started. you were so tired of feeling unwanted, always getting frustrated when you cried, you were crying over someone who couldn’t care less.

so when one of the hermes boys approached you with a smile and a drink offering at a secret party in the woods, you were more than willing to take it. he was nice, and funny, and into you. whilst you laughed away with him, occasionally drinking and eating, luke was across the campfire from you, grip tightening on his cup. all the voices around him were muffled, he couldn’t care about their conversations when the girl he loved was right there.

it was one thing for someone to approach you but from his own cabin? it felt as if the guy was trying to piss him off, and he couldn’t stand for that. luke was trying his hardest to hold himself back, but then the guys hand was on your waist and the cup in his hand was crushed within an inch of its life.

suddenly, luke appeared out of nowhere, his eyes burning with jealousy. unable to control his emotions, he confronted the guy. “what the hell do you think you’re doing?” luke sneered as the boy, derek, looked at him confused, “what’re you talking about luke?” luke scoffed, his patience was wearing thin, and the stupid look on derek’s face looked so punchable, so that’s what he did.

the situation escalated quickly, and before you knew it, a full-blown fight broke out between luke and the derek. as chaos erupted around you, you began to realize the depth of luke's feelings. you knew him better than anyone around, you saw the pain in his eyes, hiding behind the rage. luke wasn’t overtly violent in his daily life, let alone starting a fight, all for you.

derek was holding on for sure, a few hits in but again, no one was really a match for luke. the crowd around you had grown, chanting and cheering mixed in with laughter. “luke! luke let him go.” you shouted at him, but it wasn’t really any use, you implored his cabin mates to pull him away, and after a few seconds of contemplating they agreed. derek scrambled away, running with a few friends, whether to chiron or the cabins, as long as it wasn’t near you, luke was happy.

you stormed over to luke, clutching him by his shirt, “let’s. talk.” a plethora of ‘ooh’s’ rung out as luke shrugged off all the hands holding him back.

you’d found a quiet spot to talk, and with tears streaming down your faces, you talked. for the first time in three months, you held a conversation. it obviously wasn’t breezy, yelling and shouting, shoves from you, a slap or two. “you ignore me for three months, and then you beat the shit out of a guy just because he talked to me? what the hell is wrong with you? you were completely fine after we broke up, why did you do that?”

luke took a step closer, “you thought i was fine? i was anything but, every single night, all i wanted was you. you drive me insane, do you get that? not having you, not being able to hold you, to be with you.” his hand held your waist tightly, pulling you into him.

you were looking up at him, nose to nose, heaving chests and an unbelievable amount of tension in the air. “to kiss you.” he whispered, before kissing your neck. your hand tangled itself in his curls as his hand tightened around your waist, the other holding the back of your neck. the two of you ended up pushed against a tree, roaming hands and messy kisses.

“does this mean you’ll take me back?” luke whispered, forehead against yours, “are you willing to go public?”

he smiled, “for you? anything.”

#luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan x y/n #percy jackson x fem!reader #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #Spotify

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bbbbbbbbatman · 8 months

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Bruce finally decided it’s time to reveal his identity to Superman and Wonder Woman, so he takes off his mask…and is met with two blank faces. Zero recognition.

Like, Bruce Wayne is in that celebrity category of being famous for being rich and famous and also as a local celebrity, so I like to imagine that outside of Gotham, if you’re not that into celebrity culture, you probably wouldn’t recognize him walking down the street. And yeah, Clark’s a journalist, but the celebrity stuff and charity fluff pieces aren’t really his area and Diana’s never really understood the fascination with celebrities. So yeah, they don’t recognize their coworker sans makeup and expensive clothes, with helmet hair, looking like he hasn’t slept in 48 hours.

So now Bruce has to sit there, trying to figure out the least dickish way to say “don’t you know who I am?” bc he’s just not used to the lack of reaction. So he finally stumbles out with, “do you not recognize me?”

And Clark is feeling the awkwardness now but trying to be polite, “I’m so sorry, have we met as civilians before?”

“N-no, that’s—that’s not what I meant.”

Diana, trying to be helpful, “oh, are you some kind of celebrity?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“Oh,” Diana is excited now, “are you one of those influencers I’ve heard of?”

Bruce thinks a little part of him just died inside. “No, no. I’m…no.”

He’s trying so hard to think of the best way to explain that’s he’s famous for being rich, stupid, and having his parents killed traumatically in front of him but without sounding like that guy, like he’s trying to brag to his coworkers bc he’s not, he’s just used to bigger reactions, okay?

But now Diana and Clark are staring at him all politely and earnestly, wanting to learn about their teammate, meanwhile Bruce is trying to shrink into himself like a turtle bc he’s feeling super embarrassed and he would have played this whole thing differently if he’d known this is how it was going to go

#he can’t just say ‘I’m Bruce Wayne’#bc what if they don’t recognize his name?#then the situation is even worse #batman has contingency plans if someone somehow recognizes him #but no contingency plan for when someone /doesn’t/ recognize him #bruce feels so vindicated later on revealing his identity to other jl members #and they freak out #batman #bruce wayne #superman #clark kent #wonder wonder #diana prince #superwonderbat #justice league #dc #dc comics #mine

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lewisvinga · 5 months

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no me importa | lewis hamilton x fem! reader

summary; when a recent video exposes y/n and lewis’ relationship, other people think they can comment on their age gap, but at the end of the day y/n and lewis will always love each other

fc; cindy kimberly

warnings; age gap , mentions of 18+ themes

notes; loosely based off of mayor que yo by wisin & yandel and mayor que usted by natti natasha, daddy yankee, wisin & yandel :p , also reader is kinda implied as latina but it’s not important

me 🤝 writing smau’s abt dating older men

masterlist !

liked by lewishamilton, lilymhe, and 1,020,047 others!

yourusername: made vegan alfredo for me n bae, definitely went into a food coma after

tagged; lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco

lewishamilton: wifey material

yourusername: yes i do the cooking yes i do the cleaning 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

lewishamilton: it was amazing, love ❤️

yourusername: i put my blood sweat n tears into that alfredo, it better have been damn well amazing😕 ( thank u love💗💗)

username: so this is a confirmation?

username: girl did u not see the video, they were shoving their tongue down each others throat ???😦😦

username: cute but age gap is still icky to me 😕

username: tbh dating someone 13 years older than me is weird asf 😭

rosecoelovescoco: thank’s you’s

yourusername: ur welcome if u stop chasing lunita around 😕

lewishamilton: he is just a baby!

yourusername: so is my gatita lunita , she’s a scaredy cat , literally !!😞

username: she’s so pretty in everything what😞

username: 😍😍😍

lilymhe: cook for me next? 😏😏

yourusername: give me the time n place😉

username: ok but her learning how to make vegan pasta for lewis?? is so??? cute ????🥹🥹

username: he’s a grown man n 13 years older, he can cook for himself

username: it’s never that serious

liked by username, username, and 93,038 others!

f1upadates: Lewis Hamilton and Y/n L/n were both spotted at the British Fashion Awards after confirming their relationship. Thoughts on the new grid couple?

tagged; lewishamilton, yourusername

username: the fact she designed her outfit n did her hair and makeup 😩🙌

username: they’re such a good looking couple even if he’s like 13 years older than her 😭

username: i need her skincare routine!😩

username: be 13 years younger than your boyfriend helps!

username: she’s so desperate that she needs to date someone older than her? how embarrassing 💀💀

username: her parents must be so disappointed…

username: why? shes a model w her own fashion line dating a 7x (8x) world champion, they’ll be fine😭

username: y’all coming at her for dating someone older like you wouldn’t date your faves who are also older!! she’s just living the y/n life

username: REAL

yourusername posted to their story!

trans. for lyrics ; and i don’t care if i’m younger than you

liked by yourusername, georgerussell63, and 1,230,937 others!

lewishamilton: heard she likes señores [sirs]

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: sir lewis hamilton 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

landonorris: i can’t take you calling him sir every 5 seconds pls stop i beg

georgerussell63: ‘yes, sir’ THERE ARE CHILDREN HERE ( lando )

landonorris: wait-

yourusername: sorry not sorry, unless you’re a sir you wouldn’t get it 😁

lewishamilton: what she said😁

yourusername: mi amor, te quiero 💗 [my love, i love you]

lewishamilton: i love you🩷

username: idk if i want him or her tbh🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

username: she’s so😍😍

username: i’d call him sir any day i get her fr

username: they’re such an attractive couple😩

username: how’d lewis bag her im being so fr

username: bc they’re both fine as fuck 😍

username: mis padres [my parents]

username: mami y papi fr [mommy & daddy]

liked by lewishamilton, lilymhe, and 1,023,044 others!

yourusername: no me importa q usted sea mayor q yo. [i don’t care if you’re older than me]

tagged; lewishamilton

lewishamilton: wait, when did you take the second picture?

yourusername: baby i got a whole folder of those type of pictures, i take them every chance i get

username: SHARE W THE PUBLIC HELLO??

yourusername: y/n.jpg but it’s just pics of lewis’ back

lewishamilton: i love you❤️

yourusername: i love youuuu💗

username: the hand pics i’m going insane 😵‍💫🥴

username: ou that back pic, i’m going ferallll

lilymhe: omg bae stop posting pics of me 🙈🙈🙈

yourusername: ur too cute my bad😪

lewishamilton: stop stealing my gf

alex_albon: gf stealer !

username: the 3rd pic🥹🥹

username: yall need a third??

username: i can take them both ( not in a fight )

georgerussell63: if only he could look at me like he looked at u in the last picture 🕊️🕊️🕊️

lewishamilton: i will if you look like y/n

yourusername: my bad i’m too cute 😁

carmenmmundt: merc double dates now??

yourusername: uh duh, merc wags stick together 🫶

#f1 scenario #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 scenarios #formula one social media au #formula one smau #formula one x reader #formula one scenarios #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton smau #lewis hamilton social media au

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xxzlushiez · 11 months

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Angelic girl

T. Kaulitz x f! Reader

Synopsis: Tom sees a girl and she like looks like a complete angel he tries to do his little flirty things with her but she just ignores it and it makes him like her even more.

Tags: Name is attractive, clingy Tom, couple goals Frl, toms whipped, the band finds it funny, touchy Tom, make out seshs after concerts

“Even if my heart stops beatin, you’re the only thing I need… with me.”

- the first time he saw you his eyes were GLUED

- it was post concert and he was just out goofing around buying random stuff with the band when he saw you

- You were just on the phone talking with a friend and getting snacks at a small corner shop

- But bro he was whipped

- wide eyed and all, might’ve walked into a shelf of accident

- his eyes would not leave you the whole time you were browsing around the store

- let’s say you caught him staring and he just looked like a deer in the headlights bc he didn’t expect to be caught

- you laughed and said something to your friend on the phone abt him before walking past him to pay

- once he snapped out of it and saw you were leaving he chased after you

- leaving the rest of the group staring at him like 😐 “tf just happened”

- when he DID catch up to you and got your attention he would try and play it off and would be like-

- “hey, I’m Tom-“ would probably try and lean up against a wall but would slip and almost fall bc he wasn’t close enough to it

- you legit stared at him like 🤨 not impressed

- “Uhh…I’ll call you back”

- you looked him up and down and asked if he needed anything

- he tries use pick up lines on you but you just laugh a little and walk away and leave him following you like a kicked puppy while you continued to talk with your friend

- Bill and Gustav are def staring at him from the convenience store window like🧍while Georg is hyping him up

- is a persistent mf and eventually sets up a hangout with you the following day (he begged on his knees and clung onto your leg until you accepted)

- pictures show up all over the media speculating on you two’s relationship

- photos are mostly of Tom getting walked like a dog by you

- he’s always walking behind you while you lead him to god knows where

- tags along everywhere you go even for minuscule things

- many comment on how different his attitude is when he’s with you

- once y’all are closer, dating or not he is alllll over you 24/7

- can never stay away from you

- head on the shoulder hugging you from behind while you talk with someone

- playing with the belt loops on your pants while you play with his hair while talking with the band

- Hand on your lower back while walking the carpet or through crowds of paparazzi

- makes out w/ you after concerts bc of that adrenaline rush and you both love it sm

- against the wall backstage n everything

- grabs at anything he can but most you’re waist

- loves pushing his hips flush against yours

- whiny if you tell him he has something scheduled and can’t spend time with you

- always touching your ass and doesn’t care who sees wants ppl to see

- literally had to kick him out so you could shower alone one time bc he wouldn’t leave

- eventually you just accepted you’ll have to shower with someone all the time

- You def pulled him he didn’t pull you

- he’s not ashamed to admit that

- Lowkey moody when you’re not around and with him and it drives the band crazy

- head over heels type of love with him

- always staring at you with puppy dog eyes

-watches you do your hair and makeup

- sneak peeks what you’re wearing so he can subtly match in his own style

- when fans try to flirt he’s like 🏃”Name where’s Name”

- One time a fan tried to get his attention by showing off the shirt she was wearing and showing her chest and he was like…

- “How would Name look in that”🤔

- “Name would NOT wear something like that”

- said it out loud one time and almost made a fan cry but apologized bc Bill said so

- but Tom is Tom and if you notice him checking someone out or flirting without knowing you’d set him straight

- you know your worth and tell him off if needed

- but the chance he would is like one in a million because who is better than you?

- ‘no one’ is the answer

- interviewee’s would try and bring up how much he changed relationship wise and he’s like

- “well yeah I’m literally dating her why would I want anyone else?”

- def teased by Bill and Georg on how whipped he is

- doesn’t deny it at all and just nods his head like “yeah Ik bro isnt she great”

- Carves your name on the side of one of his guitar with a knife and it’s all wobbly and messy but you loved it and he was so giddy abt it

- if you have piercings he’ll get matching ones

- comments on your appearance 24/7

- “You’re so hot”

- “did you get prettier?”

- “is that skirt new?”

- you always put him in his place without even saying anything

- like he say smth and you just staring and him and he’s like

- “ I was just kidding babe of course just jokes😁”

- sweats bullets when when you guys fight abt things bc you are scary

- Begs for forgiveness

- Buys you so much stuff and doesn’t stop even if you want him to

- I feel like gift giving is his love language and there is no stopping it (just accept them it makes him cheese so hard he’s all happy and will kickin his feet n shit when you aren’t looking)

- named “teen couple of the year” in lots of magazines

- he keeps those magazines inside of his nightstand

- gets so many questions abt you in interviews

- gets a little to personal with the answers

- embarrasses you sometimes but find it amusing and so does he

- even fans can’t get mad because you guys r just so cute together

- literally some fans named yall #goals

- The band loves you guys together because it brings out the good in Tom

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agaypanic · 3 months

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Regina's Barbie (Regina George X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: You’re Regina George’s latest project, but her reasoning for fixing you up is completely different than what you think.

A/N: a little drabble based on this ask that i answered a couple days ago bc it keeps getting interaction and lowkey i cant stop thinking about the concept ugh

***

“Hold still.” Regina scolded for what felt like the hundredth time, hand holding your jaw firmly to keep you in place while she put blush on your cheeks.

“Sorry.” You whispered, looking at the wall behind her so you didn’t have to face her intense gaze.

When Regina approached you one day, twirling her perfect blonde hair around her finger as she asked you if you wanted to hang out, you thought it was a prank. It had to have been, because there was no other reason why Regina George would even consider getting close to a ‘nobody’ like you. But when you stuttered out a response, her grin seemed genuine when telling you to meet you at her car after school. Sure enough, she was sitting in her car with the rest of the Plastics, beckoning you to come over and sit in the seat behind her.

Gretchen and Karen seemed to be a bit confused by your presence but didn’t question Regina. They welcomed you, but didn’t go out of their way to make conversation with you while Regina drove to the mall.

When she parked, Regina basically pulled you into shops by the arm, her friends rushing behind you. She thrusted some sweater into your hands, telling you that you just had to try it on. And when you tried telling her you couldn’t afford it, she rolled her eyes, took a credit card out of her purse, and dragged you to a fitting room.

And now you were here, perched on Regina’s bed while she did your makeup. She had insisted that the way you did it was all wrong and that you needed to know the proper way to do it. Gretchen and Karen weren’t here, which surprised you a bit. But you knew better than to question Regina.

“Okay, now you need lipgloss,” Regina said, looking through some of the glosses she had bought you. She opened one and looked at you. “Pucker up.”

You gulped at the demand, but did as she said. Regina grabbed your jaw again, a bit more gently this time, as she swiped the wand over your lips. She bit her lip in concentration as she stared at your mouth.

“Perfect.” She muttered, capping the gloss and taking you to one of her many mirrors.

You hardly recognized yourself, but Regina definitely didn’t do a bad job. She smiled at you through the mirror.

“What do you think?” She asked, leaning her head against yours a bit.

“I look…” It was hard to find an end to your sentence with the way Regina looked at you, like you were a piece of meat. “Pretty.”

“Hell yeah, you do.” She fiddled with your hair, trying to put it in a style she thought would be more suitable. “Oh my god, I totally forgot. We’re going to a party later, so we gotta find something for you to wear.”

“What?” You were a bit taken aback, not expecting to go to a party tonight. Especially with Regina. “Couldn’t I just wear this?”

Regina laughed, and it didn’t seem like that fake, almost mocking laugh she’d do when people tried to be funny with her. It sounded genuine, like she was actually amused by your question.

“No way, Y/n! Wait here, I think I have something you can wear.” She sped into her closet, leaving you to stand awkwardly in her room. Luckily, she came back quickly with a two-piece outfit. Regina went behind you, hands holding the clothes up to your body. “You’d look so good in this. Besides, it’s better than, like, anything you own.”

She kissed your cheek before sending you off to the bathroom to change. It was so quick that you barely registered what had happened until you were already switching your clothes for hers. You caught sight of yourself in the mirror, seeing a faint lip print on your cheekbone. You decided to leave it, not wanting Regina to get mad at you for messing up the makeup she spent practically forever putting on you.

When you left the bathroom, Regina was fixing up her lipstick in the mirror. She turned to you and smiled a bit, straightening up a bit.

“See, I told you you’d look good.” She took your clothes, throwing them on the bed, before noticing the mark she left on you. Regina stepped closer to see it better, soon looking at you with the same hungry look from before. “Keep that, it’s hot.” Then she walked away to change her shoes.

You took a deep breath. This was gonna be a long night.

***

Part 2

#agaypanic #regina george x reader #regina george #mean girls #mean girls x reader #rachel mcadams #rachel mcadams x reader #renee rapp #renee rapp x reader

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astrayzmoa · 20 days

Text

𝐓𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

Genre —> Fluff

—> what it's like being in a relationship with them.

ˎˊ₊˚﹕﹒₊‧ ﹒₊˚𓂃・୨୧・ˎˊ₊˚﹕﹒₊‧ ﹒₊˚𓂃

YEONJUN

• He's so cutie

• loves having at least a hand on your thigh or around your waist bc it makes him feel at ease

• it's also js a natural reflex to just swing his arm around you or sum

• I can see him liking physical affection; or just any affection at that tbh

• he's just so opening loving especially to you so even if your love language isn't physically affectionate it's not a problem to him at all

• I believe his love language is a little bit of everything but more heavy on gift giving, quality time and physical affection.

• he loves gifting you stuff, he has the money and he may not always have the time so gifting you something he knows you'll like or heard you said you wanted is a way to show you that he still cares

• quality time because he knows y'all can't always be together because of his schedules and stuff but he tries

• anytime he can he'll send you a quick text to check up on you or a quick I love you text, maybe call for a few minutes or a quick visit on his lunch break to you

• physical affection because idk I feel like he's so cuddly, esp when he's sleepy or it's been a long day, a long time since he's seen you (like after tour for example).

• he lets you glam him up

• like...full on you can dress him how you like, makeup, heels, cute hair clips, babe have fun he's just happy to be there and that you're happy

• happy you = happy Junnie

• he's also a guy who would stare at you in such a lovesick way just in full adoration staring at you

SOOBIN

• soft giant

• yeah, he's tall asf but he's so gentle and sweet

• he was shy in the first month or two in the relationship before getting more comfortable with initiating things first n stuff

• if y'all were good friends before dating I think he'll be a little less shy, but not by much. Just a little more confidence

• he gives you piggyback rides, sometimes you don't have to ask like, if your feet hurt from walk or sum he'll gladly put you on his back or tell you to get in his bsck

• I think his love language is quality time and gift giving

• just being in the sa room as him doing your own thing, vibing

• or clinging to each other and talking, or just clinging to each other doing your own thing

• gift giving because I think he wants you to remember he loves you even if he can't always verbally tell you

• he's shy leave him alone😭

• he's trying to get better at words of affirmation tho so it's ok

• tucks you into bed and kisses your forehead, tell me I'm wrong you can't.

BEOMGYU

• It's definitely never boring

• the dates? Always spontaneous

• like..it can be a random afternoon on Tuesday and he'll just start getting ready and you have no choice but to follow him lol

• it could js be a walk, walking to nowhere in specific and if y'all find a cafe or a store you guys haven't seen before best believe you guys are going to explore that shit lol

• not all dates ofc, some are planned and romantic

• teases you a lot and is very playful but knows when to stop

• he doesn't over do it, usually just to get your attention tbh

• and this boy almost always wants your attention but it's okay bc you love him

• loves putting your hair in little ponytails on the top of your head on each side and literally pouts so much if you try and take it out or complain about it

• he giggles and is happy tho so ig it's worth it

• I think he sometimes try and wake up a little earlier just to spoil you; gifts, food, ur fav snacks and drinks and some new clothes or orders lots of stuff from online websites just to surprise you

• ofc there are moments where he knows to be serious or to calm down and enjoy the moment together w you

• he's the sweetest and is just v playful, pls be kind to him.

TAEHYUN

• he may seem cold or mean ig but he's so gentle and nice like he is the dream

• he's okay with physical affection but it's not his favorite, doesn't mean he'll complain or try and get you off if you initiate some from time to time though

• when sleeping, he will cuddle you because that's how he gets good sleep at night so enjoy it babes

• words of affirmation and quality time

• hes good at telling you words of affirmation, compliments and even tho he says I love you in special moments, he still tells you things to let you know he does love you, so much.

• I feel like quality time is obvious; I think he's more kept to himself but can be very fun and expressive at times

• spending time with you in the same room is something he likes doing

• it's comfort to him just by you being near him or beside him

• loves going places with you even if you've been there multiple times before. He just wants to be with you even if it's walking for ten minutes

• he writes cute & short notes to you before leaving for work usually because he leaves and wakes up earlier then you

• he DEF has a memory box of the things you've gifted him to cherish

• he adores you and loves you so so much, he trusts you and you're his first priority; over his work too.

• idk guys he's a keeper

HUENINGKAI

• soft giant pt.2

• memory box of things you've given him pt.2

• you guys gift each other plushies and stuffed animals bc it's like a cute little thing y'all do

• def keeps the stuffed animals/plushies you give him somewhere special separate from his plushies

• physical affection, words of affirmation

• he loves to cuddle, hold hands, kisses, hugs, literally anything he adores you

• he's so sweet and kind and gentle and soft ARUGH OTL

• he is the golden retriever bf

• really likes telling you how pretty you are or how he thinks your hair looks cute that day and expects you to also give him compliments

• actually, you better give him compliments and love him with all your heart bc he worships the ground you walk on so pls take good care of this big baby he's a sweet thang

• never had a bad word towards you or raises his voice at you

• I can see him sometimes trying to wrestle you a little but it's so gently it's just cute and y'all are a giggling mess

• JS LOVE THIS BOY PLS HE DESERVES THE WORLD

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phntmeii · 9 months

Text

♡ Dating Brahms Heelshire Headcanons:

❝ Come back! I'll be good! I will! ❝

[SFW+NSFW + No Gendered Terms]

NSFW Section Warnings: Stalking, Secret Voyeurism, Somnophilia, Non-Con, Dom/Sub Dynamics

A/N: Different fandom but same styled headcanons :) Brahms rattles around in this dome of mine nearly everyday so he had to be next. Also, first time doing NSFW headcanons so the writing may seem awkward just bc it’s slightly uncomfortable to write lmao

SFW Headcanons:

> Brahms's Main Love Languages to give are: Physical Touch and Quality Time.

> Brahms is obviously very clingy and needy. You can find him to be attached at the hip with you at all times.

> It doesn’t need to even be something important but he’ll be hugging you, holding your hand. Something. ANYTHING. So long as he’s by your side.

> He’s simply happy to be beside you because you’re his favorite person in the whole world!

> Now, this is where his bratty behavior can come out. If you brush him off or not reciprocate his excitement, he’ll pout and whine that he should be given your attention.

> Brahms will match his schedule to yours to ensure that he spends as much time as possible with you! Occasionally he’ll stay up for later but normally he doesn’t want to miss out on any chance while you’re awake.

> Incredibly possessive over you and insists you never leave him. He has massive separation anxiety and is incredibly nervous when you ask to leave to do some chores.

> When you get back, better believe he is NOT letting go of you for a good while. “Please don’t leave me again! You can never do that again! Stay with me here! Please!”

> I 100% believe that any source of romantic interactions that he’s gotten is from romance books. He pictures himself as the knight in shining armor and will try and mimic things he’s read in books.

> Cue him trying to hype himself up to offer you a flower from the garden to which you’re wondering why you have several weeds in your hands now at 8:00AM.

> He definitely cannot cook or clean but seeing you do it will encourage him to want to help you out because he wants to be useful.

> He ended up burning his finger on the pan and cried at the pain for an hour and insisting he needed to be kissed better.

> He also watches you as you get ready for the day with pure admiration. His eyes sparkle while you do skincare, makeup, put on jewelry or do your hair.

> He then will ask if you can do the same to him. (Do his hair or skincare, etc.) Brahms will keep happily still and follow each instruction you give so he can look just as good as you do!

> It takes a long while before he ever considers pulling off his mask. Whenever he gets food from you, he immediately runs off to go eat it so you can’t see him without his mask on. If you help him bathe, he will firmly insist his mask stays on.

> After some time, if you ask again, he’ll hesitate but give a slight nod to encourage you to remove it.

> If you shower him in affection and praise at seeing his face, he’ll be wide-eyed and stunned asking if you really mean it then pull you into a bear hug.

> Brahms's Favorite Love Languages to receive are: Words of Affirmation and Acts of Service.

> Brahms obviously feels most loved when he's taken care of. His needs need to be tended to regularly or else he feels as though he's being ignored or has done something wrong to have deserved such treatment.

> Cooking for him, bathing him, brushing his hair, cleaning his mask, etc. are things he'll happily watch you do with pure love in his eyes.

> And obviously because of his childlike nature and insecurities, he needs to be complimented and reassured often.

> He'll get all giddy and excited accompanied by slight stimming when he's complimented. It's like you can tell when he's blushing under his mask just by how openly he reacts.

NSFW Headcanons:

> When you first arrive as a nanny to take care of Brahms and he begins developing his obsession with you, he’ll find it more comfortable to watch you while you sleep.

> He’ll start by just watching from inside the walls, then to being in the room, then to sitting at the bedside, then finally, he’ll work himself up to touching you.

> He keeps gentle to not wake you but he gets excited by the opportunity to be this close to you and touch at your soft belly and chest. He fears you waking up so he’ll only caress your body for a bit before slinking back into the walls.

> Definitely has several peepholes all across the manor to get off to you. He finds it difficult to keep quiet. You swear sometimes you could hear some breathing somewhere in the manor but you can’t place it.

> Occasionally, you’ll find your clothing missing. It would take a bit to notice since it’s one or two things but you take to notice your laundry seemed more full than you last saw it and your drawers can be messier than how you left it.

> Once you’re comfortable with the actual Brahms, he’ll straight up ask to have your clothing for… “personal reasons”.

> Firmly believe he has no idea how sex works. His parents, once he was an adult, gave him magazines to scroll through but that isn’t an instruction manual to do anything. So you need to teach him how most of it works and what feels good and also what aftercare is.

> To keep all his needs satisfied, he was gifted one of those dolls. Y’know? It’s a miracle he hasn’t broken the damn thing with how aggressive he can be.

> Remember those stolen clothing items? Guess what doll is dressed in them.

> The doll he has customized best he can to look like you and he’ll use it while dreaming and fantasizing what it would be like to use you the same way.

> I know he’s commonly accepted to be a pure sub but I think he’s a switch (sub-leaning). He does want to please and have someone take control which is why he’ll let you take the reins most of the time.

> But, get him worked up enough or he’s getting close? He’s changing positions quick and fucking you hard and fast without restraint.

> Like—Doggy style while his arms are wrapped around you to keep you in place as he desperately pounds into you.

> He enjoys hearing praise for when he’s doing well. His eyes will look up to yours for confirmation that he’s doing what you asked for.

> It’s pure praise for him. Bby boy cannot handle degradation because he’ll take it seriously and be put off. So obvious pet names like being considered your “good boy” or a slew of other sweet names like “baby”, “honey”, “sweetheart” or “love”.

> Brahms is the type to not last long or for the average time but have insane recharge speed. Like he can go five times a day until he’s crying from sensitivity.

> If he’s straight up frustrated, he does not hesitate to just bend you over the nearest surface, yank your clothing off and fucking you to oblivion. He struggles with restraint if you couldn’t tell.

> He’d enjoy doing that in every part of the house by the way. Just to be reminded anywhere that he’s at of what your body looks like.

> CLINGS onto you like never before once you guys are done and puddled in sweat. Aftercare consists of telling him how good he was while he worships your body and apologizes if he's hurt you or went too hard.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

#brahms heelshire #brahms the boy #brahms x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire x y/n #brahms heelshire headcanons #brahms heelshire x you #the boy #slasher fucker #slashers

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im-yn-suckers · 29 days

Note

riki bf habits?

yes yes

teases abt ur height bc bro is shaq

so we know that hes a personn who loves to play with hair and loves to have his hair played with but did you know he loves washing ur hair and having his hair washed

his prescence is extremely calming and he can say the same about you

has cute nicknames for the plushies you guys adopted and call your children

'i saw this at the mall with jake and i thought it was cute like u!!' IMAGINE WIHT A BIG SMILE

'babe what do you wanna do?' 'idk alsong as im wit u' :(

ALWAYS makes sure u eat bc why would u starve ur bootiful body 'baby!! i ate today!!!' 'really?? Im so proud of you princess!!'

remembers everything abt u. u met three years ago and brought up u like the scent of vanilla?? three years laterbuys you a vanilla scented perfume

THE PETNAMES WUTH THIS MAN "angel, can u pass the salt?" ''princess can you hand me my phone'' ''cutie do u have lip balm'' ''baby/babe what time is it'' now the following only come out when hes sleepy or when no one else is around; ''love stay here its still early'' ''no, my love, we cant make cake right now' 'but its cake and no ones here to stop us' 'ITS THREE AM'

sends u texts w memes that say shit ilke 'this apple is yellow, if u see pink i fine asf mami' to annoy you

grabs ur waist. his arms are a belt. his personal hand warmer. sticks his hand underur shirt 4 shore!

has a soft spot for u and only u

imaginecuddling w the human koala and he whispers 'kiss me loser' wtv u say gorgeous

sends u reels and tiktoks of spiderman and hellokitty saying us

TV GIRL BRACELETS ARGUE W THE WALL

has matvhing promise rings for sure

unlike some ppl, i think hes def the type to write little notes for u

'shut up riki' 'make me bitch' sassy sassy sassy sassy sassy sassy

(over text) y/n; babe can u bring me wayer on ur wayback from taking shit pls?? riki; WAYER 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩 riki; sure angel

ur doing ur work likr a responsible student (manifesting) and 'TALK TO MEEEEEE' 'im studying love' 'idc kiss me l/n y/n'

'cmere pretty girl' while checking u out. laening againsgt the counter trying to distract you from baking

BACKHUGS AND NECK KISSES STFU

'babe' 'hm?' you stare at your phone, not lookint at him 'look at me' you look 'good girl' SIR SIR SIR IM NOT UR STRONGEST SOLDIER

buys u wtv u want bc y shld u suffer w/o 3+ prada bags, a matchcing bulgari serpenti bracelt and ring, dior and chanel makeup etc.

loves u to the end of the world.

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gurugirl · 1 year

Text

A Delicate Thing*

Summary: Harry is a crime boss and he meets the woman of his dreams on an important night. Mafia boss!harry x innocent!reader

A/n: this was a very specific request (no longer tagged bc they changed their username). Also, here is a link (NSFW) to some porn that was also suggested for a little inspiration. It's just for aesthetics, please imagine who you like as the mc.

7.6k words

Warning: Smut, innocent virgin having sex for the first time, mean Harry (he's not mean to y/n), mentions of mafia stuff (nothing too deep), a creepy father, some cliche themes (this is just for fun guys)

♤♤♤♤

After his father, Desmond, passed away, Harry took over the family business. He was a perfect fit for the job. As tough and ruthless as Harry could be, he was also a shrewd businessman and he knew how to run his organization and keep the men and women working for him happy so they were loyal. Harry was only cruel when it was necessary, and luckily, his father left him with a great crew of people to help him run the business and they already looked up to Harry and respected him. The men under him took his word as scripture. They knew not to fuck with Harry or the Styles’ name. Harry wouldn’t allow it because Desmond never did. Never mind that the Styles’ business was a known crime organization, no one could touch him. Law enforcement wouldn’t even take them down. The Styles clan was too big and too powerful.

So it was because of this that Y/n’s dad, William, wanted to get on Harry’s good side. Perhaps get a leg up in the organization. William had been working for the Styles’ since he was in his 20s, and now a man in his 40s, he wanted a bump up. More responsibility. More money. More power. His daughter, Y/n was young and pretty. He knew she was pretty because any time he brought her around the men would make comments and tell William he should be careful to let her out of his sight. So he had an idea when it came time for the annual Styles gala. The gala was a fundraiser of sorts. The townspeople always attended, as well as politicians, public figures, and all of the members of the organization were there. It was a big night, especially for Harry. It was the first year Desmond would not be in attendance. So, Harry would be the lead for everything and head the event and reception. Though he had people to do almost everything for him, he was the man of honor for the night, officially stepping up and taking over where his father left off.

William had Y/n get absolutely dolled up. He was bringing her to show her off to Harry at the event. Perhaps get Harry’s attention with his daughter. Y/n did not want to go. She was not excited about showing off her legs or her arms, smiling all night at creepy men, painting her lips red, keeping her hair just so, all so her father could flaunt her off. It felt gross. It felt shameful, but what could she do? Her father was not one to defy. So, she reluctantly allowed the beautician, esthetician, tailor, and stylist to do their thing. Her hair was perfectly done, left long and wavy, silky, and shiny. The esthetician gave her skin (face and body) a beautiful glow, soft, supple, and smooth. Her eyebrows were sculpted, and her hair was removed from her body (including her bikini region at her father’s request). Her makeup was done in soft shades that complimented her pretty face. Nails painted top to bottom. And finally, she was adorned in a dress that was fitted to her physique to show off her body.

The emerald satin of the dress accentuated her skin and eyes and even she couldn’t deny how alluring she appeared in the mirror as she stared at herself. But it didn’t make her feel good. Yes, it was pretty, she looked pretty. But the entire scheme was disgusting. Her father was a disgusting man for doing what he was doing. With his own daughter of all people. It felt wrong. She felt like a pawn in her father’s game.

She was a pawn in her father’s game.

The venue was full of wealthy guests, townspeople, politicians, and servers. Harry was one of the first to arrive to make sure everything was going to plan. He was excited about the night, it would be the first in his honor. He wanted to make a good impression but he was also there because he needed to meet with a handful of his closest men. On his left arm was Darcie, the beautiful brunette whom he’d been fucking for the last week. She was fun and easy. And she looked good in her little black dress for the event. Harry wasn’t worried much about her. He’d have her sit by the bar and have a couple of drinks while he and his men discussed work.

William was amongst the men at the meeting with Harry. He left Y/n at the bar as well and told her she could have a glass of wine but no more. Darcie immediately noticed the young woman in emerald. Competition perhaps.

Y/n felt awkward and uncomfortable. Her dress was a bit too fitted in certain spots and her thigh was displayed. Sitting on the little stool at the bar and sipping a glass of wine she watched as the guests arrived. Most were sitting at tables and being served, some were standing and chatting with people they knew. Music began to play and suddenly William was by her side, “Let’s go. I want you to meet Harry.”

This was what she was told would happen before coming. She knew she was here to meet someone named Harry. Her dad’s boss. She wasn’t keen on it. Not at all. Her glass of wine was left at the bar as she followed William to a table where six men and three women were sat. William pulled at Y/n, pushing her in front of him, “Harry, this is Y/n. My lovely, lovely daughter. I’ve been looking forward to you meeting her.”

Y/n smiled at everyone at the table, most didn’t look up at her but she did recognize the woman in the black dress with brown hair, long down her back. She was also at the bar with her when her dad had left her for the brief meeting. She made eye contact with the woman but didn’t receive a smile in return. Rather it was a cold gaze and then the woman turned her head toward the man she was sitting next to, the one William was trying to introduce her to called Harry.

“Thank you, William. You can have your seat.” Harry stated, never looking in Y/n’s direction. Harry had seen it all. He was sure William’s daughter would not be of interest. Harry didn’t need a young, insecure daughter of one of his men as part of his posse. He had what he wanted. When he wanted. Darcie was fine for him at the moment. She was a sure thing at the end of the night. It was boring, actually. To have William trying to flaunt his daughter was annoying more than anything.

“Harry, Y/n here would like to shake your hand at least. She’s a big fan of yours. Could you at least do her that favor?” William was desperate. He knew that if Harry just looked at Y/n there could be a chance of having him see her beauty and maybe there’d be favor gained.

Harry sighed and placed his glass of whiskey down on the table to appease William. His goal was to get William to go away with his daughter. He didn’t care in the least. He drew his gaze up over the young woman and she was almost shivering. Her eyes were downcast toward the floor, and her bottom lip bit into her mouth. She was nervous, Harry could see. It was obvious that William’s daughter was put up to this, and she was not here because she was a fan as William stated. There was something else at play and Harry didn’t like the looks of it.

The girl was stunning. Shy, insecure, and shaking. Harry frowned and looked at William and then back to the poor thing who was uncomfortable with the situation and he was filled with a touch of anger at the way William had paraded his daughter to him in this way.

Y/n knew Harry was a big boss of a crime organization and not one to be interrupted or annoyed. She felt as if she and her father were doing just that. That this was going to be her end and that Harry would have them done away with.

“William. Thank you. Y/n, come sit with me, here,” Harry snapped his fingers at the server who was standing at the table and motioned for them to bring a chair to his side, opposite where Darcie was seated. When the chair was placed on Harry’s left side, William nudged Y/n to sit.

She looked at her dad with worry, “Go on, darling. This is our chance,” he whispered to her.

Harry kept his eyes on William, “I said thank you, William. Take your seat at your table. Your daughter will sit here at the table with me.”

Y/n sat down as she was directed and kept her face downward. She didn’t know what to expect. Her heart was pounding. She’d never seen Harry in person, but he was very intimidating and his green eyes were striking. He was an eye-catching man. But she was still unsure of what to expect. His power and his ruthlessness proceeded him. She’d heard of the things he’d done to men before. Harry was not a nice man and now here she was sitting at his side amongst other men and women who were also not nice.

Darcie, who was sitting on Harry’s right side leaned in toward Harry and spoke loudly enough that Y/n could hear, “Poor girl. Wearing a cheap dress like that probably feels quite out of place here with us,“ her laugh indicated she wasn’t being nice in her words. Darcie knew the sudden arrival of the young woman was a threat to her place.

Harry ignored Darcie completely and looked over Y/n’s frame as she kept her eyes down. He was intrigued. The girl seemed scared but she was the daughter of one of his top men. A man that was looking for a promotion in the organization. The more Harry considered William, the more he wondered if the fact that he brought his daughter here was just a way to get Harry’s attention for a raise or a leg up. Harry didn’t like this. He didn’t like to use people as pawns and for William to use his own daughter in this way felt disgusting.

But it wasn’t Y/n’s fault. He could see that right away. No, Y/n was innocent. Pure. A sweet thing who was not here because she wanted to be. She was here because her father’s intentions were unkind and rather insulting. What did William think this was? A way to gain some kind of favor? Harry would do what he wanted and if William deserved favor he’d have it but not this way.

“Darling, is this normal? For your father to bring you to places and show you off in this way?” Harry was curious about how William had been treating this beautiful creature sat next to him. He moved the hair from her face gently so he could get a better look at the delicate thing.

When she finally turned her head to look into Harry’s eyes there was no turning back for Harry. She was far more beautiful than he even realized. The moment her eyes met his he felt his heart thud and his throat nearly went dry. Her pink lips and her delicate features, the sparkle of her eyes, and her slender neck were like something he’d dreamed up. He was unable to help himself as he moved his eyes down over her dress and to the curve of her waist and the spread of her thighs under her satin emerald dress. An angel was before him.

Y/n opened her mouth and tried to reign in her breaths. She was scared. “No. I mean… sometimes he brings me around, uh…” she wrung her hands in her lap and looked back down to calm herself. His eyes were searing into her and it was distracting. The way he was looking at her had her ears going hot and her senses blurred.

Harry turned to face the girl and placed his hand on her jaw and turned her face back toward his, “Sweetheart. You don’t need to be scared around me. I’m not going hurt you,” he spoke and brought his other hand up to her shoulder, bringing his fingers down her arm softly to soothe her, “Now, go on. Tell me what you were going to say.”

Goosebumps were left in the path of Harry’s fingers down her arm and she closed her eyes for a moment to compose herself. The warmth of his touch sent her heart racing. She opened her eyes again and tried to speak clearly, “He brings me around some of the men in your organization. He tells me it’s so I can learn to be good for powerful men.”

Harry scoffed and tilted his head to the side, keeping his eyes on the angel, “No baby. That’s not okay. You know that right?”

Suddenly Darcie leaned in and stretched her hand out toward Harry, wrapping her long fingers around his forearm to get his attention, “Do you think that’s really true, Harry? She’s obviously just trying to make you feel bad for her…”

Harry’s face turned into a scowl as he turned himself and yanked his arm from Darcie’s grasp, “You’re dismissed. You can go find another table to sit at. I no longer am in need of your services,” Harry turned back to Y/n, and his eyes immediately softened at the girl.

“My services!? What? You’ve been fucking me all week and that’s what you call a service? This stupid virgin isn’t going to be giving you head like I did just this morning. That I can guarantee. Good luck with the lying bimbo!” Darcie stood up but before she could walk away Harry stood and grabbed her upper arm in a tight grip, “The fuck did you call her?” He pointed at Y/n as he snarled at Darcie.

Darcie’s eyes went wide when she realized how angry Harry was, “Apologize to her now!”

Darcie shook her head, “Harry, I’m sorry…”

Harry slammed a fist onto the table, the dishes clanking and his glass of whisky sloshing, and now the whole room was watching the outburst, “Not to me you stupid whore. To her!” He again pointed in Y/n’s direction.

Darcie blinked her eyes as tears began to form on her lower lashes. She looked from Harry down to Y/n and sputtered out her words, “I’m sorry.”

Before Harry released Darcie’s arm he leaned into her and spoke calmly and darkly, “Now get the fuck out of here before I have my men remove you. You are no longer allowed to be here.”

Harry wiped his hands down his suit as if he was brushing dust off of himself before sitting back down. He pulled Y/n’s chair closer toward him and leaned into her, “Sorry about that, baby. Are you okay?” He moved her hair from her shoulder and drew a hand up toward the side of her neck tenderly.

Y/n nodded quickly. She was still nervous. She’d been a little surprised by the way Harry treated his date but she’d seen worse with some of the other men before. She was glad he made Darcie apologize.

“Good,” Harry kept his eyes on Y/n’s as he snapped his fingers again and the server was quickly by his side.

Harry spoke softly, “What would you like to drink, darling? A beautiful thing like you deserves the finest things. Champagne maybe? Top shelf?”

Y/n opened her mouth and raised her brows in worry, “My dad told me not to drink too much…”

Harry tsk’d at her and smiled, “You don’t need to worry about William anymore. I’m going to be the one to take care of you from now on. And if you’d like the finest champagne you’ll have it.”

Y/n nodded, “Okay,” her voice was quiet and fragile.

Harry ordered a bottle of champagne to be brought to the table and fresh strawberries to go with it.

Harry doted on Y/n during the dinner and the speeches that were made during the event. Never taking his eyes off her, his fingers gently dancing on her skin. He knew it was probably a bit too much but he couldn’t stop himself from touching her and looking her over. She was going to be his.

When dinner and the main event were done it was time for the reception and party. Harry moved Y/n and some of his crew toward where there’d be entertainment and music for the rest of the night. He sat along the wall where there was a plush couch and some tables. Y/n was about to sit down when Harry took her wrist and pulled her into his lap. He needed her to be as close as possible.

When her soft bottom met the top of his thighs he angled her so he could still see her face and he brushed his hand along her bare back, where her dress was low and he could feel her soft skin under his fingers.

More drinks were served and chatter was all around them but Y/n was feeling something deep in her stomach with the close proximity to Harry. He’d been so soft and kind with her and the attention he was giving her, the words he’d whisper were all so much. She’d never experienced it before but she wanted more.

Harry put one hand on her bare thigh, gently moving his thumb over her skin, “Shit, you’re beautiful,” he whispered to her, his lips brushing her ear, “Do you know that, Y/n? You’re so fucking stunning, baby. Want you to be all mine. Okay?” His warm breath and the accent of his words with his deep voice were overwhelming Y/n’s senses. She wanted that. She’d just met him but she wanted him. She wanted to be his.

She licked her lips and turned to look at Harry, “Okay,” she whispered and nodded.

Harry grinned at her and the hand on her thigh slid higher up, the pads of his fingers finding the material of her dress and dipping just under it, “Yeah? You want that? Fuck, baby. I’m going to take good care of you, okay?”

Harry pulled her to him, his hand at the back of her neck and his mouth finding hers. She tasted like honey and berries and champagne. The softest and sweetest and most delicate thing he’d seen and felt in all his life.

Before the kiss could get too hot Harry broke away from it and it left Y/n breathless, her lips parted and eyelids low. Now she knew what she wanted without a doubt. She wanted to please him and to have him please her. His mouth on her ignited her insides and she felt her nipples perk under her dress.

Harry noticed it too. He realized the state he’d left her in so he moved a hand further up her dress discreetly and whispered, “I know baby. I’m going to take you home when we’re done here and give you everything you want. Anything you want,” he pressed his fingers upward until he met her bare pussy. She was not wearing panties and Harry nearly lost his mind when he felt the slickness between her legs. Harry immediately thickened in his pants. This girl was going to be treated so well and he was going to take care of his angel properly.

The rest of the night was difficult for both Harry and Y/n. Harry couldn’t stop kissing her and touching her and Y/n was slowly wetting her satin dress where she was seated. Harry was treating her so sweetly and saying just the right things to her. And when Harry pulled her hand down over his trousers so she could feel him hard underneath and it startled her.

Now, Y/n had masturbated before and she could make herself orgasm by softly rubbing herself on her pillows her using her fingers but she was a virgin and she was not experienced otherwise so she’d never touched a penis before. She’d seen pictures but had never been in the presence of a real-live penis. But here she was, on the lap of a man who was so aroused by her that his own prick was thickened and she knew that this meant he wanted her in the same way she wanted him.

When William eventually approached them he had a creepy smile on his face and he was clearly drunk. Y/n wrapped her arms around Harry and shrunk in his lap, not wanting her father to see her like this. She really didn’t want to see William at all for any reason. In fact, she’d nearly forgotten all about him with the way Harry had made her feel safe and wanted on his lap and with all the attention he was giving her.

Harry noticed Y/n’s sudden change of demeanor and held her close to give her comfort and turned to Randy as he pointed at William, “Get him out of here.”

And that was that. Harry and Y/n didn’t have to see William again that night. Harry would take care of William another day. At that moment, he could only think of how he was going to take care of his girl.

Harry had his driver take them to his estate when he felt it was a good time to slip out without being noticed. Most everyone at the event was occupied, dancing, talking, and drinking so no one cared much when Harry whisked Y/n away with him and out the back to the car waiting for them.

When they pulled into the long driveway past the iron gates to Harry’s mansion it was a shock. It was the biggest house she’d ever seen. Her eyes were wide as Harry helped her out of the car and put his arm behind her back and walked her to the door and inside. A man greeted them at the door and the inside was just as ornate and fancy as the outside.

Y/n couldn’t stop herself from swiveling her head around to look at all the beautiful finishes and decorations. The tall windows, twenty-foot ceilings, marble floors, stair banister, walnut inlays, chandelier, art, expensive looking vases, and bowls and rugs, the walls were covered in silk wallpaper with subtle designs…

“It’s a lot. I know. This was my father’s home. His tastes were a bit extravagant, but it grows on you. It’s the finest decorations and furniture from all over the world. Just wait til you see the rest of the place, darling,” Harry smiled at Y/n as he watched her take it all in.

“It’s so beautiful, Harry,” Y/n brushed her hand along the edge of the velvet high-back chair that was near the staircase where Harry was leading her.

Harry kept his eyes on the beautiful girl and nodded in awe of her, “It is so beautiful.”

The bedroom was large with high ceilings and tall windows and the biggest bed Y/n had ever seen. She heard the heavy walnut door being closed behind her when Harry came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her front, pressing her back into his chest.

He began to kiss her neck softly and she started to melt once again in Harry’s arms. His broad chest was solid and she felt safe in his arms. When he moved his hands down to her hips she felt the warmth of his palm even through her satin dress. But she also felt his solid length poking into her bottom and she was reminded of her own situation between her legs.

“Can I take off your dress, baby? Will you let me see you?” Harry whispered into her ear as his hands slowly smoothed up her sides over her dress. He knew she’d look like perfection. He could already tell. Her thigh had been on display and her dress was scooped low down her back where the front draped perfectly over her breasts and hugged her waist and hips.

Y/n nodded. She wanted relief. She was feeling the ache and the neediness that had begun at the reception earlier when he sat her in his lap. Her nerves were peaking but she was excited about it.

Harry removed his suit jacket and draped it over a chair and then turned to face Y/n and very slowly began to remove her dress, bringing the thin straps off of her shoulders and pushing the material down, exposing her breasts to him where he paused and placed a soft kiss to each of her nipples and she softly moaned at the touch.

Then he dragged the dress the rest of the way down her body and lifted her legs, one at a time to help her step out, leaving her in only her high heels and Harry thought he was going to faint. She was smooth, soft, and untouched by any imperfections on her skin.

He knelt down and put his hands up to her hips and placed his warm mouth on her tummy, kissing and squeezing her until he dropped his mouth to right over her sweet, pussy. She was already wet and he could see her juice peeking out from her labia, the shine and the smell made him twitch in his pants. He brought his lips down, going around her pussy, over her thighs, and to her knees, on each side, and then back up.

He looked up at her and she’d put her hands on his shoulders to steady herself when he pushed his tongue out and licked the very center of her wet slit with only the tip of his tongue.

“Is this okay, Y/n? Do you want me to make you feel so good?” He spoke over her pussy, his warm breath cascading down her folds and she gasped at the feel and nodded, “Yes, please.”

Harry stood up and moved her toward the bed and had her lie flat on her back in the very center, legs spread wide at his urging. He held her thighs apart and looked her over, taking all of her intimate bits in. Everything was perfection and she was his. He could hardly believe it.

Harry was gentle at first, kisses and licks and soft laps at her pussy. She didn’t know what to do with herself it felt so good. Better than her fingers for sure. But when he realized her clit was standing at full attention and she was puffy and whiny he knew she was ready for more. She was fully aroused.

So he put his mouth around her clit and softly brought it into his mouth, sucking the tiniest bit and watching her to get her reaction and he was not disappointed. The shock on her face turned into ecstasy and her pink lips parted as she moaned and cried. Harry smiled and repeated his actions, holding a thigh down for his access to his center.

Soon, as Harry was licking her and lapping her and sucking her just right, he circled two fingers over her tiny entrance and dipped just the tip of his fingers in to get a feel. Her muscle was tight but she was very wet and so he eased his two fingers into the first knuckle slowly. She gasped and tilted her head up to see what he was doing.

Harry’s intense gaze was on hers the whole time. She saw his pink tongue lapping at her slit and circling her clit and he had a hand at her entrance, prodding, and poking softly to open her up.

Harry lifted his face, “I’m gonna finger you darling. Just to get you used to the feel of this. Have you ever put your fingers into this little hole right here?” He wiggled the tips of his fingers inside of her as he asked.

She let out a soft breath and shook her head, “No.”

Harry smiled. He figured she hadn’t. So he went slow and watched her expressions change and the way her mouth got wider and wider and her moans got deeper and louder the further he pushed his fingers into her. She was so wet she was getting the comforter under her bum slick, just like Harry liked.

By the time Harry had his fingers pushed in all the way to his last knuckle, and his rings were disappearing into her hole she started fucking herself down onto his fingers by herself. She had the natural instinct to sink down on something inside of her and Harry gave her a good slurp on her clit and inserted another finger and she came with a yelp and a gush on his tongue. Her body shook when she felt her orgasm burst and it was better than any orgasm she’d ever given herself. His fingers had been poking and pushing into something delicate and sensitive inside of her that she’d never experienced before and it made her whole body shiver.

Harry let her come down and he gave her plenty of time to recover from her shock as he laid next to her and kissed her neck and her cheek and whispered to her how good she’d done.

“Such a good girl, Y/n. My sweet baby. I’ve never seen anyone come so pretty before. Taste so good too. I’m going to have you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day from now on, okay?’

Y/n smiled and nodded as she lulled her head over to look at Harry. His eyes were dark with lust and she knew she wanted to please him too. So she turned to face him and moved her hand down to his crotch, where he was solid and harder than ever.

Harry groaned at her touch and he grinned, “Want to see it?”

And of course, she did. She nodded and sat up as Harry began to remove his clothes. When he had pulled his underwear down his legs and crawled back into the bed with her she was speechless. She put her hand out toward his long cock and touched the very tip and sucked in a sharp breath at how warm he was.

She looked up at Harry with wide, round eyes, “It’s so big.” She knew that a penis was meant to go inside of a vagina and that she had a hole where Harry had his fingers, but she couldn’t imagine it fitting into her.

Harry grabbed her hand and pressed her palm down on him harder, “It’s all yours. Do you want to taste?”

Again, she nodded. She was curious about it. Harry pulled her toward him and she got onto her knees on the mattress next to him and dipped down to kiss the very tip. Her lips found his slit and Harry hissed and smiled at her, “Good girl.”

She knew that was a good sign so she kept going. Kissing the shaft and looking up at him when she poked her tongue out to lick the edge and taste him. It wasn’t bad. It didn’t taste like much really. Just warm skin on her tongue. She began to get the hang of it, licking and kissing along his thick shaft toward his base and then back up.

“Put the tip inside your mouth and suck,” Harry said as he nodded at her.

She eagerly lowered herself and opened her wet mouth, placing it over his crown and using the flat of her tongue to get him wetted and swipe around the head, perfectly caressing his frenulum and he moaned and put a hand into her hair, “Just like that baby.”

She continued doing what she thought he liked, keeping her eyes on his. She lowered a bit more and sucked hard at his urging and he threw his head back with a growl and he smiled at her eagerness and her soft lips.

“Spit over it and use your hands to get my cock all wet,” Harry nudged her.

So she did what he said, spitting on him and using her hands to smooth the saliva over him and down his shaft. She spit a few times to get him all slick in her hand and then continued to suck and swirl her tongue on the tip of his prick.

Harry was in heaven. But he wanted to feel his girl. He wanted to know what her pussy would feel like on him and he hoped she wanted that too.

He pushed her off of him softly and he looked at her in amazement, “Can we try something else, my angel?”

Y/n was in for anything at this point as she nodded.

Harry made her lay flat on her back as he knelt between her legs and held his heavy cock in his hands and swiped his tip through her drenched slit and it was a beautiful site.

“My penis will fit inside of this hole here,” he said as he plunged his middle finger into her entrance and then he pulled it out and licked his finger. Y/n bit her lip and she had a worried look on her face.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Harry asked as he thumbed over her clit to get her all worked up again. She started to wiggle a bit and roll her hips upward toward his finger for relief.

“I think it’s too big, Harry.” She said with a straight face.

Harry chuckled and shook his head, “No, baby, it’s not. Your hole will stretch and open up when I press this in. This is where babies come from, you know that right?”

She nodded and blinked. That made sense.

“And if a baby can come through this hole, my penis is sure to fit. And it’s going to feel so good. You’re gonna love it. You know how good it felt when I had my fingers inside of you?”

Harry slide a finger inside of her again and curled it up for her to feel the pressure and she nodded with a gasp.

“Exactly. It’ll feel even better with this in there,” he said when he began to swipe his cock up and down her labia again and softly nudged at her entrance with his head. If she were anyone else he’d already be fucking her and making her toes curl. But this was his Y/n. She was delicate and too sweet. He wanted her to feel comfortable and safe with him. He’d make her feel like a queen if she let him.

She nodded and she knew he was right. He’d only been gentle and caring with her this whole time. She trusted him, “Okay.”

Harry kept a thumb at her clit as he angled her hips for him to more easily push in. He stayed sat back, his knees bent with legs under him as she laid flat, her thighs spread and open for him.

She closed her eyes when she felt his crown begin to poke into her. His thumb felt nice on her clitoris and it helped her feel grounded.

“Look at me, Y/n. Watch my face, honey…” he squeezed her hip to get her attention and she opened her eyes up right away. Looking at him as he slowly pushed past her tight muscle and continued to circle her clit with his thumb.

She could see how good it felt for him as he got deeper inside of her, his mouth parted, his brows scrunched. But to her, it didn’t feel as bad as she thought it would. She was old enough that her hymen was probably broken by now and even though she’d never even put a tampon inside of her, she’d ridden horses and bikes and was aware that activities like that, along with just naturally moving day to day over the years that it would mean her vagina would be rid of its hymen lining.

Harry went very slowly. He could feel how tight she was but her arousal was drenching him and making it hard not to just pound into her right away. He knew she could take it. Her body was ready. But he didn’t want to startle her or scare her. So he only pushed in as slowly as possible and kept watch of her face.

He pulled himself out to almost the tip and then nudged his thick cock back inside a little deeper this time and she moaned. Harry smiled. She liked it. It felt good.

He repeated his actions a few times, getting a little deeper on each thrust, but still going as slow as possible until she was panting and her eyes were wide.

“How does that feel angel?” Harry breathed his words out.

She lifted her neck and looked down to where he was fucking into her and she nodded before putting her head back down, “So good. It feels really good.”

This was Harry’s cue to begin fucking her properly. Not hard, or fast, but now he could begin thrusting into her at a pace that might get her off. He began to pull back and push in, watching her pussy spread for him and her lips surround his cock with each pull and push. It was wet and the sound was delicious, “Hear that?” Harry said as he slowly pushed in and pulled out, the wet noise of his cock thrusting into her entrance and pulling back was not something she expected. But she could hear the wet noises coming from between their bodies.

She nodded, “Yeah. Is that because I’m so wet for you?”

Harry groaned and smiled, her words were dirty and she didn’t even know it, “That’s exactly what that is my angel. Your little pussy is soaked because she’s so aroused and that makes it easy for my cock to slip right in and out the way you need. Like this…” he demonstrated by pushed into the hilt, and then backing out until he could see his tip before pushing back in, the sticky sound of their bodies coming together.

His cadence increased a small bit and it made her body move on each press inward, her tits softly bouncing at each plunge of his cock. The wet sounds were now met with the sound of Harry’s skin meeting her skin, the soft smacking of their bodies colliding, and the rustle of the blankets below them.

Y/n’s moans began to get louder again like they had when he ate her out and fucked her with his fingers. She felt good and that’s all he wanted. To make her feel good and safe.

“Oh god…” her eyes widened and her pink lips puffed out a heavy breath, “that’s good… so full…” her panted words were music to Harry’s ears. She was feeling what he was feeling and she was saying what she wanted as her brain and body were naturally responding to sex the way it should when it felt good.

“Yeah, baby? Am I stuffing you full? Feels so good doesn’t it?” Harry continued his languid strokes into her, smacking into her gently, continuing to rub her clit softly.

“Yes. Yes… oh yes…” she breathed out in gasps, “So full, so good… mmmm….” She brought her hands down to grasp his thighs where he was working himself into her. She felt his strong muscles under her hands, flexing as he rolled into her.

“You’re made for me, angel. You know that? Gonna make you mine in every way…” he moaned as he rocked into her, imagining her dripping with his come and then becoming pregnant and swollen with his baby.

Y/n nodded and bit her lip as she bucked upward into his thumb and whimpered when Harry couldn’t help himself and he plunged into her a little harder, a little faster.

Now he was smacking into her harder, sending her body upward with each deep stroke. It felt good inside of her. His prick was filling her and rubbing into something inside that felt like rainbows and stars and all things good and right. She couldn’t stop her moans or the noises she was making. Harry was making her feel better than she’d ever felt in her life.

“That’s it, angel… just feel it. Let it take over,” Harry watched her body and her face as he fucked into her a little harder now. He couldn’t help himself but to go in deeper and harder. She was feeling so good around him and she liked it so he knew he could poke deep into her and she’d like it.

Harry continued rubbing over her button and looked down to where they were connected, his cock was wet with her creamy arousal. She’d gotten his groin soaked, down her ass and to the bed below. Harry groaned at the site of his cock moving into her and spreading her apart. He knew his cock was pushing her insides apart, pressing deep into her belly and rubbing over her g-spot on each stroke. Her eyes were almost crossed as her mouth was dropped open with constant mewls and moans falling from her mouth.

“So pretty… look at you, shit…” Harry was losing it. She was clenching and pulsing around him as her legs started to shake slightly.

Harry went in hard now, he couldn’t help it. Now he was acting on primal tendencies to push her over the edge so she could come and so he could come. He wanted to destroy her insides (in the kindest way of course) with his big cock. She was taking him so well and he knew she was so close to coming.

Y/n’s breasts shook and bounced, the sound of the thuds of skin and wetness together with her loud moans could be heard down the hallway of his mansion. He knew his house staff was hearing this but he didn’t care at that moment. He only cared about making Y/n come.

When she clenched hard and he felt her pussy spasm and she cried out his name, “Oh god! Harry! I’m… oh… oh… I’m…” her words were nonsense suddenly as she melted on his cock and spasmed around him, her legs shaking and her world spinning. She grabbed her tits and squeezed for something to hold on to as she gushed over Harry’s cock and he continued fucking into her, giving her the best experience she could have; a nice thick cock pushing into and pulling out of her fluttering walls as she came, her muscles clamping down on him with all she had.

Harry gritted his teeth as he watched his angel coming on his cock as he sunk into her deeply and finally released in his own orgasm, his cum coating her walls and her slick muscles inside as she quivered and cried. His throbbing cock pumped into her, stuffed as far as it could go inside as he groaned and pushed upward, connecting them so fully and deeply that he knew she’d never want anyone else. He’d make sure of that.

When his balls were emptied and everything was poured into her cunt and her breathing began to slow Harry kissed her lips softly and slowly before pulling out of her.

He held her thighs apart and watched as his come dripped from her pussy down over her ass. He scooped up a bit of his liquid and brought it back up to her pussy, rubbing it over her labia and then pushing it back in slowly.

Harry couldn’t get enough of the view. It was so pretty and soft and lewd. Their juices mixed together over her pussy and now inside of her pussy…

“How do you feel?” Harry looked up at Y/n and she was smiling, red in the cheeks, her chest flushed, hair messy, “Happy.”

This made Harry smile. He wanted her happy and feeling good. He smoothed his hands up her hips over her tummy, wrapping them around to her back, and pulled her up and into his arms, “Good. I’m going to make sure you stay that way. Always want you to be happy with me,” he kissed her temple and smiled.

“My good girl.”

The Check-in*

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bunnycobie · 1 year

Text

best friend's brother - choi san

pairing: choi san x f!reader summary: when your night with your crush doesn't go to plan, you find comfort in the person you'd least expect genre: smut, some fluff, some angst word count: 3k content/tw: nonidol characters, college au, san has a sister named mina (not meant to be mina from twice), other random idol names are used, fingering, unprotected sex, drunk sex (don’t do this in real life) a/n: this may be a cringefest bc it was my first fic

18+ minors dni (masterlist)

you tap on jimin’s instagram story for an update on where he might be. he’s in a car with his friends, most likely on his way here. replaying the post over and over, you don’t realize how long you’ve been staring at his smile until you’re hit on the leg with a pillow, snapping you back into reality.

“are you even listening to me?” mina snaps. you grin and sit up against the pillows on her bed.

today is mina’s birthday, and she decided to throw a party at her house tonight. but even though she invited tons of people, she only cares about one guest. so much so, that she’s cycled through five different outfits just to look as good as possible.

“you look hot.” you say jokingly, grabbing and hugging the pillow she just threw at you. “jin is going to notice you, quit overthinking it.”

mina groans. “why aren’t they here yet?”

“they’re on their way right now, they’ll probably be here soon. can we please go now?” you whine. the party started almost an hour ago, but you’ve been waiting for your friend to finish getting ready.

“i just need a few more minutes. go ahead, i’ll find you later.” she says, looking in the mirror as she puts on a pair of earrings.

as you leave the room, your ears are instantly flooded with music despite the party only being downstairs. you head towards the bathroom and step inside to check your hair and makeup in the mirror.

you and mina invited jimin and jin to the party, and it’s the only thing you two have thought about all week. mina and jin are practically a thing at this point, but you can’t say the same for you and jimin. you’re always too nervous to hold a conversation with him. it’s nothing a little liquid courage can’t fix, though. you hope.

there’s a knock on the bathroom door. you open it expecting it to be mina. instead, you’re greeted by a large frame with silky black hair.

of course, it’s mina’s brother san.

despite being a player on campus, he’s really sweet and protective over you. presumably because you’re his sister’s friend. still, he’s always been respectful and never tried to make a move on you.

but you’ve definitely caught him staring once or twice, and youd be lying if you said you didn’t do the same.

“oh, hi y/n.” he examines your outfit, making you feel self-conscious. “i started to think i’d never see you guys come out of that room.”

“sorry,” you smile awkwardly, walking around him into the hallway. “she’s nervous about jin.”

“jin’s coming?”

“yeah, and jimin”. you reply.

san’s posture straightens. “so you actually like him?”

“i never said that.” you protest.

“i hear you guys all the time. you aren’t really discreet about it.” he smiles.

you can’t help but notice his dimples every time he does that. your relationship with him has only ever been platonic, but you’re almost always dumbfounded by his appearance.

“i mean, maybe. i can’t really tell if he feels the same way though.” you say, fidgeting with your hands.

san leans against the wall. “i wouldn’t waste my time on him,”.

“what? what do you mean?”

“i don’t like him. it doesn’t matter though; you can do better than him.”

who the hell does he think he is?

“you don’t even know him. why should i care what you think?” you say, furrowing your brows.

in reality, san knows jimin more than you’d thin. they’ve never been friends, but he’s spent enough time around him to know that he’s not worth dating.

san is well aware of his position in your life, but he still cares and doesn’t want to see you hurt. your words stung a little, but he wouldn’t let you know that.

san grins and lets out a soft chuckle that pisses you off a little.

mina’s bedroom door opens and she steps out in yet another outfit choice.

“it took you an hour to come up with that?” san says teasingly, gesturing to mina’s outfit.

mina’s eyes widen. “is it actually that bad?” she gaps.

“he’s joking.” you smile, despite the anger you felt a few seconds ago. “you look cute, can we go now?” you asked, grabbing mina’s hand and pulling her towards the stairs.

not only would she have actually changed her outfit again, but you would’ve done anything to get out of that situation. you’re an adult and can date whoever you want. why is san treating you like you’re his sister... or his girlfriend?

as you walk away with mina, you glance over your shoulder to see san still looking at you, except this time he’s more serious.

the party was open invitation, but you’re still surprised by the number of people that actually showed. you and mina grab two beers from the kitchen.

you feel a tug on your arm. “they’re over there!”. she points to jin and jimin sitting on a sofa with drinks and talking.

your stomach knots at the sight of jimin and you start to feel flustered. he looks so good you start to second guess your outfit just as much as mina did hers. you chug your drink, hoping the alcohol will set in soon.

mina laughs at your nervousness. “are you ready?”

“i think so –”

“hey guys!” mina yells over the music, interrupting you.

your heart drops even further than it already did.

jmin and jin look over as you and mina make your way to them. mina sits next to Jin, leaving you with no choice but to sit next to jimin on the opposite end. you were hoping Mina would be with you to ease the awkwardness, but that plan is instantly thrown out the window.

jimin turns his body towards you, and you start to wish you’d planned things to talk about.

“hey, you look nice.” he smiles.

“thank you.” you respond shyly. somehow you feel even more self-conscious despite the compliment.

“i haven’t seen you in class lately.” you mention, hoping your awkwardness doesn’t show.

“oh. i’ve been kind of focused on my music lately. i’m actually considering switching majors.” he says.

he continues speaking but as you glance around your attention is caught by san across the room.

he’s looking directly at you, while a girl is holding his arm and laughing. he’s pretending to listen, but he’s watching you and jimin. you can’t seem to break the eye contact, as if your eyes are glued to him.

you realize you’re mid conversation and shift your focus back on jimin, who’s still talking about himself.

“i think that’s great.” you smile at him, unknowing of what he spent the last 30 seconds talking about.

“y/n, can I borrow you for a sec?” mina leans forward into your gaze.

you nod. “sorry, one second.” you excuse yourself from the conversation and follow mina as she pulls you aside.

“jin and i are going to my room; are you gonna be fine on your own?” she asks lowly.

“what? you’re sleeping with jin already?” you exclaim.

mina shushes you and looks around the room as if anyone could’ve heard you over the music.

“i don’t know, probably.” she says, grinning like an idiot.

“i’ll be fine. be safe.” you smile.

she nods and waves over jin, and he follows her upstairs

you make your way over to where you previously were but realize jimin is gone. you scan the room for him but can’t find him. you start to regret letting mina go and feel awkward all over again. you look around for a familiar face and see san, still talking to the same girl and clearly uninterested. you find chaewon and yunjin and join them for a while.

almost two hours pass while you’re busy getting drunk and dancing.

mina comes back with jin, but you’ve been so caught up that you forgot about them and jimin.

“hey.” you almost cringe realizing what they might have just finished doing.

mina grins and rolls her eyes. “where’s jimin?”

you shrug. “he left after you guys did”

“that’s weird,” jin says.

“i’ll go look for him.”

you scan downstairs one more time, but he’s still nowhere to be seen. you realize the party extended to the patio and open the door to check outside.

you find him, but you’re practically frozen in place when you do. he’s sitting next to a pretty blonde girl, kissing and feeling her up. you start to feel sick. you know that the two of you weren’t exclusive, but you still had hope there would be something between you. you’ve been obsessed with him for months and the one night you decided to make a move, the universe betrays you. the embarrassment starts to set in when you realize practically everyone knew about your crush as well.

you can’t watch any longer, and head back inside. you don’t feel like looking for mina. you don’t want to ruin her birthday by forcing her to comfort you. you’re too ashamed to admit what happened, anyways. you’re too drunk to walk or drive home, so you go to mina’s bedroom to wait for the rest of the night.

you open the door to her bedroom but the unmade bed reminds you of what just happened in it. and as disgusting as you feel, you’d rather not fall asleep on a bed full of sweat and god knows what else.

standing in the hallway, you start to feel the frustration set in and tears begin to well in your eyes.

you hear heavy footsteps on the stairs and immediately wipe your tears.

you don’t know whether to be grateful or upset over the fact that it’s san. as soon as you see his face, you’re reminded of the situation from earlier. and the last thing you want is to hear an “i-told-you-so”.

“what’s wrong?” he says, noticing your expression.

“nothing.” you reply, trying to contain yourself.

“why were you crying then?” he approaches you, practically trapping you in between him and the wall.

“i’m just tired.” you lie, looking down hoping to avoid eye contact.

“don’t lie to me,” san says, lifting your chin.

“did he do something to you?” he’s more intimate this time, and you realize you won’t get anywhere by hiding the truth.

“you were right.” you admit, removing his hand from your face. you start to feel the shame overwhelm you again

san sighs and looks around the hallway to make sure you were alone.

“are you happy?” you continued.

“of course i’m not happy,” san says, offended by the accusation. “you’ve had too much to drink. let’s just get you to bed, okay?”

you know he didn’t do anything wrong. none of this was his fault. to be fair, he did warn you. you weren’t mad at san, but you were overwhelmed and didn’t know what else to do. so, you took it out on him.

“you’ve been watching me like a creep all night waiting for something to go wrong. now you want to pretend you feel bad and take care of me?” you snap.

san sucks his teeth and grabs your wrist. pulling you to his bedroom, he shuts the door behind him and leans against it.

“can you calm down?” he asks in annoyance, folding his arms.

you start pacing out of frustration, trying to keep yourself from breaking down.

“he’s not worth crying over, y/n. I told you that you could do better than him.” he says, pulling you back to him. he snakes one hand around your waist and starts wiping your tears with the other.

something about his presence makes you feel safe. he makes you feel like you could cry if you needed to, but how could you when you’re around him? the realization that your body is pressed against his starts to set in.

you always knew san was good-looking, but something about the way he’s letting you be vulnerable with him makes him so much more attractive. he looked unreal, yet somehow, he was standing right in front of you.

you must have been staring for a while because his expression darkens. his thumb that was just wiping your tears starts to brush softly over your lips. you feel like you’re going to pass out from the way he’s staring at your face, studying you.

san’s lips press against yours and his arms wrap around your waist. you reach over his wide shoulders and around his neck as he pulls your body closer to his. each kiss begins deepen, with small moans escaping your throat. and as passionate as they are, his lips are still so soft and careful with yours.

san’s lips move from yours to your neck, and he’s holding you as if you’d slip away once he lets go.

you can feel warmth pooling in between your legs, making your legs go numb. he sweeps you up and moves his focus back to your lips as he carries you to his bed. laying you on your back, he hovers over you between your legs, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

you let out a moan as reassurance for him to continue, so he slides his hand under your top. he squeezes and massages your breast, causing you to let out whines involuntarily.

“does that feel good?” he groans against your neck. you can feel him smiling against you, giving you chills in the best way possible.

you manage to let out a soft whiny “yes.”.

“i’m gonna make you feel so much better.” he promises. he plants a soft kiss against your collarbone before shifting his hand between your legs.

he circles his thumb against the outside of your panties, feeling the damp spots he caused. each feeling of him hitting your clit makes your breath hitch.

“fuck.” he groans. “my baby is so good and wet for me.” he moans, teasing you with his fingers.

you prop yourself up on your elbows, your forehead against his.

“could you please?” you plead softly.

“could I what? use your words, baby.” he teases, pushing more pressure onto your clit.

“fingers, please.” you babble, your head falling back from the sensitivity.

“you want me to fuck you with my fingers?” san smirks.

“mm-hmm.” you whine.

san pulls your panties to the side and pushes his thick finger in slowly, earning a whimper from you.

he can feel his cock growing feeling the warmth of you, wishing it was inside of you instead. the sound of his fingers slipping inside of you are audible from the wetness.

san can feel himself swelling up and leaking from the anticipation, but he wants to take his time with you. he loves the sight of you moaning and whining under his control with your head held back.

he pulls your head in by the back of your neck and snakes his tongue in your mouth while curling his fingers to reach your gspot. his tongue is warm and wet, and you feel yourself getting dizzy and falling apart.

“i’m gonna cum.” you manage to breathe out.

“wait a little longer for me,” san says, pulling his fingers out of your heat and kissing you before standing up.

he pulls his shirt off revealing his bare chest and smooth, toned skin. he’s practically sweating from the anticipation, making his abs and biceps look even more glossy. he looks like a greek god.

unzipping his pants and removing the rest of his clothes, his swollen cock reveals itself, already wet and leaking from the tip.

he pushes you back down and lets you wrap your legs around his waist.

rubbing his tip against your sensitive clit, he inserts himself, making you gasp. the feeling you felt from his finger was almost nothing compared to the size of him inside of you.

he groans at the feeling of you wrapped around and squeezing him and wastes no time before speeding up his pace. your moans can’t help but get louder, and he has to cover your mouth with his just in case someone may hear you whine.

he moves fast yet softly as if he doesn’t want to hurt you. still, the feeling of him inside of you is enough to make your eyes water. you feel your sensitivity from being edged earlier come back, and you’re close to your high all over again.

“i wish i could do this with you forever” he moans.

his pace starts to get sloppy, letting you know he’s close to finishing. you feel a wave of ecstasy take over your body as san releases inside of you, leaving you dripping. the two of you moan over the feeling of finishing on each other.

san collapses next to you as you both catch your breath. he gets up and slips on clothes to leave the room. you lay in confusion for a minute until he comes back with a warm towel.

he cleans you up and gives you one of his clean t-shirts to wear to sleep. you try to hide your smile from the thought of him being so sweet to you. when you put the shirt on, he falls in love at the sight of it being so big on you. he’s not super tall, but his muscles are enough to warrant his shirts being huge. san wraps his arms around you and gives you another kiss, but this time it feels more loving than the rest.

“do you feel better now?” he asks, embracing you.

you’d forgotten about what led to this in the first place. but you didn’t care enough to remember because you were in love with someone else now.

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