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mermaidgirl30 · 3 months

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✨Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller Pt 3: October Surprises and Secrets Slurred ✨ dbf! Joel

Series Masterlist

-Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

-Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

-Word Count: 13.2k

- Tags: Porn with Plot, dbf! Joel, fingering, oral, face riding, dirty talk, dom! Joel, (reader is 25, Joel is mid 40’s)

- Chapter Summary: Your relationship gets more heated with a lot more intimacy going on between you and Joel, but will you finally get caught?

- A/N: I love this series so much and can’t wait to bring you more filthy scenes between these two 🤭 Sorry not sorry this chapter is so long, it’s worth it 😉 Reblogs are appreciated and I always love seeing your comments ❤️

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

October rushes through Austin as the cool, autumn breeze whisks through your soft curls. The campus is buzzing with focused, anxious students who rush to get last minute papers and assignments in for midterms. You have been diligent and already turned in your law papers, so you’re now free of midterm anxiety, unlike the other students in your classes.

The historic, massive library is filled up with laptops splayed all over tables and empty Starbucks coffee cups that sit next to their cramped hands that struggle to keep writing in notebooks. Sunlight beams through the stained-glass windows as you pass through the library, making your way out into the cold to go find your car somewhere in the mix of all the campus traffic.

As you open the library doors, you get a shot of cold air that blows right through your purple cardigan, and you wrap it around yourself to try to keep the chill from seeping down into your bones. When you cross campus, your mind wonders to Joel and how much you want to see his handsome face right now. The thought of his massive hands cupping your chin and those pretty coffee colored eyes staring down at you make you shiver with anticipation.

Joel, Joel, Joel. He’s always on your mind, never letting a minute pass without him there. You both can’t leave each other alone, not able to go a day without speaking to one another. He always asks if you have plans after school or when your shift gets over at the coffee shop off Main Street. It’s almost like you’re a normal couple. Almost. There’s just that itch behind your ear that’s always buzzing when you’re with him. That loud, annoying ringing in your ears that reminds you that you’re sneaking around your parents, mostly your dad. You honestly have no idea how he would react to the news, so you’d hide it for as long as you could. Your mom might take it lighter, but your dad. He might actually lose it, and you do not want to see that happen.

When you get to your shining Nissan Rouge and hear the click of the unlocked door, you jump in and slam the door shut, throwing your belongings over in the passenger seat. As you put the silver key in the ignition and turn, it barely hums to life and then dies again. The glowing orange check engine light blinks in front of you, and you pound your hands on the sleek steering wheel.

“No, fuck! Please, work for me,” you beg as you turn the key and try again, praying for a miracle. The engine spurts out a pathetic, muffled sound and then magically starts up as the car hums to life once again. “Oh, thank God,” you sigh as you wipe the sweat from your forehead.

Joel. He’d know what to do. You pull out your phone and dial Joel’s number in a hurry, trying to keep your patience as you tap your nails on the black steering wheel. Joel picks up on the third ring.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he drawls into the phone, his voice sounding like thick honey and sinking its way down into the pit of your stomach where warmth spreads.

“Hi, handsome,” you respond, a small smile spreading quickly over your face as the sound of his deep voice automatically soothes you.

“How was school? You get all your essays turned in? I don’t even have to ask, you already did. Didn’t you?” he asks with the sound of a light, raspy laugh on the end of the line.

“Just got them in today, actually,” you smile.

“Look at you gettin’ them in early. Such a smart girl, aren’t ya?” he purrs, making you bite your lip in response to the audible praise.

“Mhm,” you hum, your voice suddenly turning shaky as you look at the glowing engine light that warns you you shouldn’t be driving the car right now. Joel notices your shift in tone and responds with an edge to his voice.

“Everything alright, darlin’?” he asks concerned. It gives you goosebumps the way he’s always so protective, so careful of you.

“Umm-I’m fine, it’s just my car. My check engine light came on just now, and a few minutes ago I couldn’t even get it to start,” you respond back carefully with furrowed brows.

“Oh, shit. That ain’t good. You need a ride home? I can come get you-”

You cut him off and shake your head. “No, no. You’re at work, and my car came back on.”

“Darlin’, I don’t care that I’m at work. I don’t want ya drivin’ if it ain’t safe,” he says with a serious tone. You can tell he’s getting worked up, the way his breath falters and his sighs come out deep and clipped.

“Joel, really. I’m not that far from campus. I can make it home. Promise,” you respond with a more lighthearted response, hoping that Joel will settle with that answer.

“I don’t know if-”

You cut him off again. “Really, it’s fine. I’ll make it home,” you push.

You hear a long sigh and you can visually see him running his thick fingers through his patchy salt and pepper scruff. The vision of it makes warmth spread against your thighs as you squeeze your legs shut tight. “Fine, but I’m lookin’ at your car tomorrow and fixin’ it. S’not safe for you to be drivin’ it with your check engine light on,” he says with a raspy huff.

“Oh, you’re gonna fix it for me?” you ask with a stupid grin planted on your face.

“Mhm, gonna try my damn hardest to,” he replies as he clears his throat.

“And what do I owe you for your services, Mr. Miller?” you ask in a flirtatious voice.

You hear his low chuckle in the receiver, and it makes you giggle in response. “You don’t owe me nothin’, sweetheart. Just wanna make sure you’re safe,” he says with a light laugh. The sound makes your heart pound against your chest. Sweetheart. Safe. The words nearly take you out. He’s such a gentleman.

“Alright,” you say with a giggle. “I guess I’ll let you get back to work,” you sigh, not wanting to hang up on the handsome man that has your heart beating erratically for those gorgeous honey brown eyes.

“You be careful goin’ home, darlin’. Text me as soon as you make it there. I mean it,” he says with a serious, clipped tone.

“I promise,” you say back in a non serious tone.

“Okay. Well, I’ll talk to you later, beautiful. Remember, as soon as you get home,” he reminds you with a knowing tone in his voice.

“You got it. I’ll talk to you later,” you slur into the phone.

“Alright. Bye, gorgeous.” With that he hangs up the phone as you hear the line click dead. You throw your phone in the passenger seat and turn up the radio as Breaking Benjamin blares through the loud speakers. You nod your head to the beat and start to drive off, praying the car gets you there in one piece.

The glowing check engine light stays on the entire drive home, but you make it back safely. You park the car in the hooded garage and turn off the engine, letting it sit idle in the cool room. Whenever you make it through the door, you run straight into your dad as he almost spills his hot coffee all over his pressed white shirt.

“Shit, sorry dad! Didn’t see you there,” you apologize with frantic hands that steady the coffee cup in his hand.

“Careful now, I have a Zoom meeting in five minutes!” he sighs with the hint of agitation in his voice.

“Sorry, dad,” you apologize again.

Before you head to your room, you turn and tell your dad about your messed up car. “Oh, dad, before I forget to tell you. Joel’s coming over tomorrow to take a look at my car. The check engine light came on, and he’s gonna try to fix it for me,” you say lightly.

“Why didn’t you just ask me first? I could’ve taken a look. You sure asked Joel pretty quick there,” he says with his eyebrow raised and the hint of suspicion in there.

You gulp and try not to let your widening eyes give you away. “Oh, uhhh. I just thought you’d be too busy to take a look at it, and you know how good he is with fixing cars,” you shrug innocently.

“And you thought he’d be less busy than me tomorrow?” he asks with the tic of his jaw and wondering eyes staring questionably at you.

Your heart is in your chest and you feel the faint drops of sweat forming on your forehead. “I mean, I just didn’t want to bother you is all. Figured once I told you then you’d just tell me to ask Joel anyways,” you lie with a straight face, keeping your composure together.

He looks at you a few seconds and then nods, face relaxing a little. “Yeah, you’re definitely right, hun. That’s exactly what I would’ve done. Alright, well I need to hop on this call, so I’ll see you later.”

He turns into the direction of his office and you round the corner into the entryway and relax against the wall, breathing out a long sigh of relief. That was close. Too close for comfort.

You head up the stairs and back into your bedroom filled with lilac walls and scents of vanilla and citrus hanging in the air. Apartments. You need to find an apartment and fast.

The air is stuffy and hot in the garage, even though the autumn breeze blows gently outside as it carries red and golden leaves across the driveway. You’re wearing a light blue hoodie and cut off black denim shorts while you sit atop the wooden workbench in your garage. You gently kick your dangling legs off the side of the workbench and stare at the most gorgeous man working on your car. Joel Miller.

You watch the way he picks apart every single wire and car part he can get his hands on. His tousled dark curls sit slicked back against the top of his head by sweat that cakes his forehead, his grey t-shirt bunches around his thick arms every time he flexes and reaches under the hood, and his hands stay covered in grease and dirt from tearing apart your car piece by piece.

You can’t help but gawk at how ridiculously hot he is right now, can’t help the way you bite your lower lip seductively and run your tongue across the bottom of your lip in hopes to get a taste of him. You start to wonder what it’d be like to be bent over the hood of your car while he takes you from the back, start to imagine how good it’d feel to have his thick cock between your slick center as he fucks you senseless into oblivion. Can’t help the burning need in between your thighs as you squeeze your legs together and choke down a moan as slick starts to pool in the center of your lacy underwear.

“You alright there, darlin’?” he asks with concern hinting in his voice as he washes his hands in the garage sink, stepping closer to you as he wipes his hands off on a bunched up rag. “You look a little flushed there,” he says as he steps in front of you, just a few inches from meeting your knees.

“Umm, yeah. I’m fine. Just got a little hot, I guess,” you gasp out, nervously panting as your jaw drops open.

He slides up to you and stops right in front of your thighs, locking his knees up with yours as his t-shirt sticks against his broad chest and bulging biceps. You can’t help but stare at him and his pretty brown eyes with flecks of gold that sneak out and catch you unawarely. You want to run your fingers through his messy greying hair, want to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him until you taste every single part of him as you unravel yourself around him.

“Why don’t you close your jaw, sweetheart. Gonna start drooling if you keep it up,” he smirks as he cups your chin and helps you close. You swallow away all the heat and try to calm yourself as he stands before you, but you can’t. He’s too much, too fucking much.

“Sorry, couldn’t help it,” you say flirtatiously as you bat your long eyelashes at him, feeling your blush paint the edges of your cheeks crimson.

“You gonna tell me what you were thinkin’ about?” he asks with the tic of his jaw, leaning his weight against the bench as his hand gently brushes your hip.

“I was just thinking how hot you looked leaning over the hood of my car. And your messy curls, how I want to run my fingers through them right about now,” you smile as he leans against you, taking his other hand and placing it against the top of your thigh as he gently runs his rough hand down to your knee.

“Oh, yeah? S’that right?” he laughs as he takes his other hand and pushes your thighs apart, stepping in between them as he runs calloused fingers up and down your smooth skin, turning your breaths ragged from the heat of his massive hands on you.

“Mhm,” you choke out, already worked up from his light flirting and the weight of his thick fingers on you.

“What else were ya thinkin’ about, hmmm?” he hums out, his eyes growing darker by the second.

“I was thinking…” you start as you run your fingers through his damp curls, making him groan as your nails scrape lightly against his scalp. “How good it’d feel if you fucked me on the hood of my car,” you purr, whispering into his ear seductively. You feel the bulge in his jeans already starting to form, feel how turned on he’s getting at the thought of you spread wide open for him on the top of your car.

“Christ, baby. Such a dirty girl, aren’t ya? Wantin’ me to fuck you senseless while I make you cum all over my cock. That’s what you want, ain’t it? To make you scream my name while I make you cum again and again and again…”

His voice lowers with a growl as he wraps his hands around your hips and drags you forward, ending right on the edge of the workbench as your legs clench around his back, his hands moving over the denim of your shorts as he snakes a hand up under the material, finding your soaked lace absolutely ruined for him.

You choke out a moan as he dips his fingers under your lace, slowly spreading your folds as his thumb finds your clit and circles you meticulously, stifling another moan out of you as you dig your fingers into his back and wrap your legs tighter around him.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, sweetheart. Such a good girl. Always ready for me. Always so needy, ain’t that right?” he smirks as he continues circling you, making your heels dig into his back as you slide a hand through his messy curls and drop your lips to the shell of his ear. Ragged moans leave your lips as he pushes two fingers inside your dripping hole while his thumb continues dancing over your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Feels so good, daddy,” you pant, biting down on his earlobe as you hold in a loud moan while he circles you faster, getting you all worked up over him. You hear the sloshing noises of your wetness and his fingers pumping in and out of you, and it’s so fucking hot that more slick slides down your center as you start to come apart around him. You’re so close, almost there already.

“That’s right, baby. Daddy’s gonna make it all better,” he coos, curling up his fingers inside you as he hits the spongy part of your walls that elicit another moan deep into his ear as your toes curl in your Converse.

“Joellll,” you whine into his ear, dragging your fingers against the curls that sit matted to the back of his neck.

“What is it, baby? Can’t handle daddy’s fingers, huh?” he teases as his lips ghost across yours effortlessly. “Tell daddy what you want,” he smirks, speeding up the shift of his thumb against your aching clit.

“Want you…. oh, God,” you moan as he curls his fingers inside you nice and slow, moving them up further as you latch around him tighter.

“Go on, finish your sentence,” he smirks with clenched teeth as he works you over nice and thoroughly.

“Want you to fuck me,” you whine against the shell of his ear.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Can’t fuck you here, sweetheart. Don’t want your father findin’ you with my cock buried deep in that wet pussy now, do ya?”

You whine out as your breathing becomes hard to control, tattered moans filling his ear like a choir of angels. “No, don’t want that,” you gasp out, your fingers tangled in knots against the back of his soft t-shirt. “I want you though. Want you so fucking bad,” you groan as he continues building slick around his thick fingers.

“Wanna put this hard cock inside that pretty pussy of yours. Wanna fuck you so hard over this bench right now that you won’t be able to stand for the rest of the night. Wanna cum inside that drippin’ pussy while you moan my name as I take you from the back,” he growls as he fucks his fingers up inside you deeper, hitting the spongy area again and again as you feel your orgasm about to take flight.

“Want you to moan my name so loud when I make you cum that everyone in the neighborhood knows just who you belong to,” he growls with clenched teeth as he presses down harder on your clit, rubbing it in just the right area that you feel yourself start to spill. You feel the white hot heat start to take over as your eyes roll back and you clench up against his fingers that continuously curl up inside you.

“Joel, I’m… I’m coming,” you moan as you bite down on the scruff of his jaw, feeling your orgasm wash over you as you close your eyes and bite back your moan as you let him have it.

“That’s it, baby. Such a good fuckin’ girl. So good for me,” he praises as you take a few seconds to come out of your blissed out daze, his fingers gently releasing out of you as he brings them up to his mouth and sucks, staring at you with blown out pupils. Your eyes go wide as you watch him drink down your cum, humming to himself as he licks them clean.

“Taste s’good, darlin’. Can never get enough of you,” he purrs as he pulls your drenched underwear back over your cunt and straightens your shorts out again. You grab the back of his neck and pull him toward you, planting your lips over his as the taste of sweat, black coffee, and you enter your mouth. He wraps his hands around your hips and slithers his tongue into your mouth, letting you taste all of him as his senses envelop you, sweat and all.

Before you can get lost in him anymore, you hear the jostle of the doorknob and the squeaking hinges as the garage door starts to open. Joel jumps back out of your reach and grabs the bottle of synthetic oil off the back of the shelf, drawing his dark eyes away from you as you compose yourself with a quick breath and legs that clash together.

Your dad looks up at you with concerned eyes and purses his lips. “Honey, you feeling okay? Your face is all flushed and your eyes are so wide they look bloodshot.”

Your blood runs cold as you gulp down your nerves and flick your eyes over to Joel, watching as he stares at your idle car as he runs a hand nervously up the back of his neck. “I’m okay, dad. Just got a little too hot is all,” you say as you fan yourself with your hand, trying to get rid of the flush of your crimson cheeks.

“Oh, sorry about that sweetie. Want me to get you a bottle of water?” he asks with a gentle nod your way.

“Yeah. Thanks, dad.”

“Alright, honey. Be back in a minute.” He turns to Joel and slaps him on the back in a way that best friends only do. “How’s the car looking? Figure out what’s wrong?” he asks as he looks around the open hood of the car.

Joel loosens the top of the oil and sets it down beside the front wheel. “Yeah, there seemed to be some loose wires that got tangled around each other. I fixed ‘em. The serpentine belt looks to be pretty worn out, so I can stop at the hardware store tomorrow and get a new one. Should be an easy fix. And the car needs an oil change, so I’ll get that done real quick. Then it should be good to drive smoothly,” he says as he plays with the used towel in his hands.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this, Joel. You sure do take care of my little girl,” he smiles in thanks.

Joel smiles back and chuckles. “Anything for your daughter, George. I always got her back.” He turns your direction and winks at you secretly, making your cheeks turn bright red at the secret meaning behind his words.

“You’re a good man, Joel Miller. Maybe one of these days I can get you to go on a date with one of Claire’s friends. Trust me, some of her friends already drool over you. Should ask one of them out. Could use a woman around the house. Maybe get you laid one of these days,” he teases as he claps a strong hand over Joel’s back.

Joel’s fists clench and his lips twitch at the mention of dating other women. You won’t lie, you feel a heavy weight against your chest and the tinge of jealousy runs hot down your throat. Joel would do no such thing. Mine.

“Nah, man. Thanks for the offer though. I’m good,” he responds. A breath you had been holding blows out, the wave of jealousy washing away as soon as he says the words.

“You sure? Wouldn’t hurt to at least have a night in with one of them. How long has it been, huh?”

“Dad!” you say forcefully, making both of them look your direction as you dig your nails into the wood, jaw locked into place. “Water?” you ask as you raise your eyebrows.

“Right, sorry. Be back in a minute.” With that he races back inside and slams the door shut.

“So, my dad’s trying to hook you up with one of my mom’s friends?” you ask with a raised eyebrow, mostly joking around with him.

“Don’t worry, darlin’. Already have my best girl right here,” he nods your way, curling his lips into a crooked smile. You can’t help but smile back at him and melt at his words. My best girl.

“That’s right. I’m your girl,” you say possessively.

“Damn straight you are,” he smirks, making butterflies flit through your stomach.

Your dad comes back with a cold bottle of water and leaves the two of you alone again, closing the door to go answer a phone call. As you let the fresh water quench your thirst, you watch Joel meander his way under your car, taking his time to change your oil out. You watch his soft t-shirt lift up just a tad, exposing thick dark hair that trails underneath the waistband of his jeans.

It takes everything in you not to go over and straddle him as he works, slipping your hand underneath his jeans as you pull his hard cock out and go down on him, taking him in your mouth nice and slow as you make his ropes of cum slide down the back of your throat. You hold back the temptation, knowing you can’t do that here. Not when your dad’s lurking around the corner of the house.

You sigh and watch him work, making light conversation with him as he puts the cap back on and crawls out from underneath the car. Grease stains his grey t-shirt, and he has a smudge of grease across his nose.

“Joel, come here. You’re a mess,” you giggle as you grab a towel from the metal shelf and jump down off the workbench, going over to stand in front of him. You wipe off the grease from his nose and wipe off his hands next, making sure you get off as much as you can.

“Baby, I could’ve done that,” he smiles as he grabs the towel from you, wiping off what he can from his ruined shirt.

“It’s fine, I wanted to help,” you shrug.

He looks at the grease stain on his finger for a second then back up at you, mischief written all over those hazy brown eyes.

You back up against the wall and raise an eyebrow. “What are you planning, Miller?” you ask suspiciously, holding in a laugh as you see the playful smirk pulling at his lips.

“Me, planning? Never,” he scoffs, the smirk planting firmly against the corners of his mouth. In a flash he cages you against the wall with his thick arms and smears some grease on your jawline. Your eyes go wide as he does it.

“Joel!” you whine as you push against his chest playfully. “That’s not funny,” you say as a giddy laugh escapes your throat.

“It ain’t funny, huh? Then why are you laughing?” he asks as a deep chuckle ruptures from his chest.

“Get it off, now,” you demand playfully as you try to grab the used tan towel from him. He grabs it back from you.

“I got it, I got it,” he laughs as he uses the pristine end of the towel to clean off the grease from your jawline. When he promises he got it, he throws the towel up on the workbench as you reel him in for a kiss. His lips are soft, plush, and they taste like Joel.

“Oh, that reminds me. I got somethin’ for ya,” he says as he breaks the kiss, digging around the back pocket of his dark faded jeans.

“You got me something?” you ask with a surprised lilt to your voice.

“Mhm,” he hums as he grabs his leather wallet and opens it up, digging around to find what he’s looking for.

“What’s the occasion?” you ask curiously, watching him dig around excitedly as his thick fingers push around old receipts and folded up papers.

“Don’t have to be an occasion to get ya somethin’, darlin’,” he chuckles. “But this is kind of an early birthday present, since your birthday’s next month.” He finally finds what he’s looking for and pulls out two tickets that have a matte gloss covering both sides. You flip them over and your eyes go wide at what the tickets say. Two general admission tickets to see Ghost at the Moody Center on November fourteenth sit carefully in your hands. You gulp back tears as you stand frozen in awe as you stare at the glossy tickets.

“Joel…” you gasp out, your eyes probably as wide as an owl right now.

“Thought you’d like ‘em. I know how much you’ve wanted to see ‘em for a long time. Took me a while to find out when they were gonna come to town, so I jumped at the chance when I saw ‘em post new tour dates. And Breaking Benjamin is gonna be their opener. I know how much you like them too and…”

You jump into his arms and wrap your hands around his neck as you thank him over and over again for the best gift ever. You grab his shirt and pull him in for a long kiss as you run your hands through his tousled curls. When you break the kiss, you stand back to look at him in his pretty face as your arms stay wrapped around his neck.

“You’re gonna take me to go see Ghost?” you ask sweetly with big eyes that water faintly.

“I’m gonna take ya to see Ghost,” he nods with a crooked smile as he looks down at you with brown doe eyes that you want to sink right into as they swallow you whole.

You pull him in for another long hug as his strong arms wrap around your waist. “You’re the sweetest, Joel,” you say as you plant your lips on his cheek, staying in his embrace for as long as you can.

“Anything for my girl,” he smiles as he cups your chin, bringing his lips down on yours again. When he pulls back, he keeps his calloused thumb trailing against your jawline, making you dizzy with lovesick thoughts.

“Hey, what’re you doin’ for Halloween?” he asks as he keeps his coffee eyes focused on you, his thumb trailing light circles across your cheekbone.

“I didn’t really have any plans. Sometimes my friends will drag me out to the bars or we’ll find a Halloween party to go to. How come?” you ask, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Umm well, you wanna come over to my place? We could watch some scary movies, make some popcorn, order a pizza. I know how much you like those classic horror movies. Would be nice to have some company,” he smiles shyly as the corners of his mouth rise up into a crooked grin. He’s perfect, so perfect.

“Joel Miller asking me to watch scary movies? You don’t even really like them,” you laugh as you hang around his neck, his left hand digging deeper into the side of your hip.

“Yeah, well. You rub off on me a lot. And besides, anything to make my girl happy. I jus’ like spending time with you is all, darlin’,” he drawls, his eyes glistening with flecks of light and dark brown mixing together to make a pretty coffee color. His crooked smile makes a dimple press against his cheek, and the lines against his eyes crinkle into complete warmth that fills the hard lines in his face. You think he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen in your life. Because he is.

“Joel… you leave me speechless. Truly. I’m so, so lucky to have you. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” you gush to him as you rest your forehead against his.

“No, darlin’. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

You stifle out a laugh and bring your lips down slowly over his, this kiss more slow and romantic than all the other ones. Who would’ve thought you and Joel Miller would’ve ever been a thing? But here you are. Completely and utterly wrapped up in each other, and you just can’t get enough.

You hear the jiggle of the door handle and see the door opening fast into the garage. You jump out of Joel’s grasp and take a few steps back, separating the distance between him even though it’s getting harder to act like the two of you aren’t completely crazy for each other. You’re out of breath, still dizzy from all the emotions of the last few minutes with Joel. And he looks the same, pupils dilated and a flushed face as he looks up at your father.

Your father stops and puts on his glasses to take a closer look. “Joel, you feeling okay? Your face is flushed too. You good?” he asks as he hands Joel a water.

“Yeah. Just got up too fast from under the car. Should be fine,” he nods as he flicks his eyes over to you, the look of affection returning to his brown doe eyes you can’t get enough of.

“Alright, well dinner’s ready if you wanna stay. She made chicken enchiladas tonight, so pretty sure you’ll wanna stay,” he laughs.

“Sure, wouldn’t miss those,” Joel nods as your dad smiles back at him.

“Well, come on. Come and get it while it’s hot.” Your dad turns toward the door and goes through, leaving it open for you and Joel to follow.

Joel takes your hand in his discreetly and leads you through, rubbing the pad of his calloused thumb against the back of your hand, making you feel all tingly and giddy inside. Before he drops your hand, he brushes your knuckles with his lips and places a slow kiss against the back of your hand. You blush on the spot and smile up at him as he returns one back, and then he drops your hand as he walks into the light of the dining room.

Fuck. You have it bad for Joel Miller and you’re falling fast. Very fast.

Halloween Night

You spend the entirety of the afternoon getting ready for your night in with Joel. You shower, douse yourself in Victoria’s Secret Bombshell perfume, and pick out the perfect Halloween costume to wear. You go with a short black mini dress that barely grazes your thighs, the long sleeves hanging off your shoulder that leave your neck and the tops of your shoulders exposed to the cool air.

You carefully fix your hair into loose spiral curls and secure a long pink bow in the back of your silky hair. You apply shimmery pink eyeshadow to the hoods of your eyelids, draw perfect cat eyes with liquid eyeliner, and purse your lips after applying the shiny pink lip gloss. After slipping on a pair of black heels, you look at yourself in the full length mirror and grab the pair of fuzzy black cat ears as you top off your costume. Joel’s going to lose his mind when he sees you in this getup.

After nervously driving over to his house, you now stand on the front of his porch and wait for him to come open the door after you ring the doorbell. You pull on your sleeves, your legs shaking as the cold evening wind hits your bare legs. After a few seconds he opens the door and pulls it back.

“Hey, sweetheart. You…” His voice cuts off as his brown eyes go wide as he lets out a low whistle, slowly taking in your figure from head to toe.

You twirl around slowly for him, letting him see all of you and watch him fall apart. “Trick r treat,” you smirk. “Gonna give me something sweet to eat?” you purr, batting your dark lashes up at him sweetly.

You hear him curse quietly under his breath and watch him rake his hand slowly over his patchy beard. “Goddamn, darlin’. Such a pretty little kitty cat. And that dress, fuck,” he bites out as he gazes his dark eyes over your long legs. “Prettiest girl that ever stood in my doorway, that’s for sure. C’mere,” he calls as he grabs your waist and pulls you into his broad chest, pressing his lips against yours as you chase the taste of his black coffee scent you so desperately love.

When you pull away you click your tongue at him. “Thought you were supposed to have a costume on today?” you say with a raised brow, playfully pushing at his chest.

“This is my costume,” he replies with an amused expression on his face.

Your eyes trail down him slowly. He wears a Halloween black t-shirt, an open red flannel, and dark blue jeans that form against his muscular thighs. You shake your head and pull off your cat ears, placing them over his tousled dark curls as you position it to balance on his head perfectly.

You laugh as you take in the big, strong man with the fluffy cat ears on. “There. Now you have a costume on,” you giggle as he just shakes his head and pulls you inside while he shuts the door behind him.

“Funny, very funny,” he chuckles, a dimple forming against his cheek which makes you only melt more for him. “Wanna take ‘em back now?”

“Nope,” you shake your head, holding a laugh in as you watch him examine his face in the mirror, sighing as he takes in the fuzzy ears atop his head.

“I look ridiculous,” he groans, crossing his arms over his chest as his biceps pull at the red flannel, making you anxious to curl up against them on the couch.

“No, you’re adorable,” you respond, lingering your hand against his soft t-shirt as you curl your hand around it.

“Don’t think so, darlin’. That’s all you. You gorgeous girl,” he says with a low drawl, his caramel eyes honing in as he backs you up against the wooden staircase, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly. Before he leans in, the front door twists open and he pulls away from you in a hurry, putting as much distance between the two of you before Sarah walks in.

Your eyes grow wide as you weren’t expecting her to be here tonight. Sarah gasps as her eyes flick from you to Joel, clearly confused on what’s going on. Her long curls fall over her shoulders as she stands in a Cowboys jersey and black yoga pants with war paint smeared across her cheeks.

She says your name with questions ringing in her tone. “What are you doing here? On Halloween? Shouldn’t you be at a party or something?” she asks as she looks over your outfit carefully, her eyes going over to Joel as she takes in the cat ears that sit perched atop his head.

“Uh dad, why are you wearing those?” she asks as a giggle sounds loudly across the lit up hall.

He throws the ears off and hands them back to you, running a hand through his messy curls as he works to stay composed. “Don’t worry about it,” he says defensively. “And she came over so I could work on her car,” he confirms.

“But you just fixed her car a few days ago?” she says with raised brows, her eyes flicking back and forth between you and him.

“Uhhh yeah. But the light came back on this morning, so I brought it over. Joel said he could take a look real quick. I was just about to head back out. Shouldn’t take too long,” you say with a calm, collected demeanor, giving nothing away.

She eyes you both suspiciously and finally nods. “Okay then. Whatever you say,” she rolls her eyes. “But anyways, look at you! That outfit is so hot, my dad would never let me wear anything like that,” she pouts, crossing her arms over the orange jersey as it scrunches up underneath her.

“Maybe when you’re thirty,” he teases. She just shakes her head and sticks her tongue out at him. He chuckles out a deep laugh in response.

“Whateverrrrr,” she drawls out. She turns back to you and beams her pearly white smile as her curls bounce up and down as she moves. “Bet you’ve got all the boys wrapped around your finger in that outfit,” she smirks out. Joel’s eyes grow a shade darker as he focuses on you, trying his best not to say a word in response.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Maybe just one,” you smirk, your eyes flicking over to his brown irises as you face Sarah again, careful not to give anything away.

“Oooooo you have a boyfriend? Why haven’t I met him? Is he cute? Is he a good kisser?!” she yells excitedly as she hounds you for information.

“Sarah!” Joel warns, telling her to calm down as his eyes narrow over her.

“Sorry,” she whines, giving you a small smile as you return one to her.

“What are you doin’ back here? Thought you were goin’ to your friend’s to go trick r treatin’?” he asks with raised brows, hands on his hips as his jaw clenches up.

“I am. Just forgot to grab my purse,” she says as she reaches around you and grabs her purple over the shoulder purse and heads back to the door. “Alright, heading back out. Guess I’ll see you sometime soon?” she asks as she looks over at you behind her shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m sure you will,” you nod her way, waving a quick goodbye to her.

“Sarah?” Joel calls before she heads out the door.

“Yeah?” she asks before closing the door.

“Not too late, alright?” Joel says with his brows furrowed together.

“Yeah, be back before midnight,” she promises.

“Sarah?” he calls out again, making her groan at the name.

“Huh?”

“Love you,” he says softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his face relaxes into happiness.

She smiles gently and nods. “Love you too, dad.” With that she closes the door and runs off to the burgundy Cadillac that awaits her out front.

You can’t help but smile at Joel, butterflies flitting through your stomach as you take in his soft side. He’s always so careful and gentle with Sarah, always telling her how much he loves her. He’s such a softie, and you can’t help but fall for him even more as you watch him.

“What?” he asks as he snakes his arms around your waist, backing you up against the stairwell again.

“You’re such a softie,” you smile as you wrap your arms around his neck while you run your fingers through the scruff on his neck.

“Only for Sarah and you,” he grins, dropping his lips down to yours as you drink him in again, feeling every surface of his plush lips against yours.

He breaks the kiss after a few seconds and pulls you into the living room. “C’mon. I’ll get the movie started then I’ll call in a pizza for us. Pepperoni?” he asks as he leads you over to the cream colored couch and sits you down against the soft cushions.

“Pepperoni,” you nod. He turns on the tv and pulls his phone out, heading into the kitchen as he calls Pizza Hut and places an order to be delivered to the house.

You take in your surroundings of the darkened room. Vanilla candles sit sprawled against the glass coffee table, the large display of the tv glows in the near distance as the menu comes up for the movie Scream. You hear Joel in the other room hang up the phone as he places it down on the counter.

“You want some popcorn, baby?” he asks from the other room, his voice carrying into the living room like a song you want to put on repeat.

“Mhm and a Dr. Pepper, please,” you call back.

“I gotcha, baby. Be right there.”

When the popcorn is done popping and the cans of soda are taken out of the fridge, he joins you on the couch and places one hand on your thigh as the other one presses play on the remote, making the movie hum to life as the beginning titles show across the lit up screen.

You take a sip of Dr. Pepper and pop some popcorn into your mouth as the buttery taste slides down your throat conveniently. You curl your legs onto the couch and fold yourself against Joel, letting your arms wrap around him as his arm flexes behind you. He pulls you tight to his side as his hand runs gently up and down your arm, causing your body to fully relax against him as you breathe in his cologne and woodsy scent. He smells like a piece of heaven, your piece of heaven.

He takes a drink of his Dr. Pepper and places it on the coffee table, leaning back into you as he adjusts himself into the back of the cushions and lays a soft kiss against the top of your head, making you melt beneath him.

When the scene of Ghostface asking Casey what her favorite scary movie is comes up, Joel mimics his voice and asks you the same thing in a more southern, non scary tone. “What’s your favorite scary movie?” he asks mysteriously as you giggle into his chest.

“You should know this one,” you answer back, eyes flicking up to his as he looks you over carefully before responding.

“Halloween,” he answers automatically.

“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner,” you yell out, pulling a laugh from deep within his chest as you hear it rumble against your ear.

“Knew it,” he says proudly. “And what’s mine?”

You lay your head in his lap and look up at him, deep brown eyes staring down at you as he awaits your answer. He’s so pretty that it physically hurts. “Joel, The Lord of the Rings does not count as a scary movie,” you laugh out as he smiles down at you.

“Sure it does. It has spiders, orcs, dark themes.”

You push his chest playfully. “It’s fantasy. This is a scary movie,” you remark as you point to the tv, watching Ghostface chase his victim across the yard.

“Yeah, well. Still,” he vocalizes with a sigh. “Would you watch all of ‘em with me?” he asks faintly, his chocolate eyes glazing down to yours.

You turn to him and nod. “Of course I would. I’d watch amything with you,” you reply with a smile.

The corners of his lips curl up into a soft smile and he leans down and kisses you without holding back at all. He tangles his fingers in your curls and you open your mouth up, allowing him to slide his tongue into your mouth as he finds your tongue, dancing around as you drink down the taste of him slowly, passionately.

One hand slides down to your thigh as he grazes calloused fingers up and down your inner thigh, making you breathe heavier as he bites at your lower lip, heating up the room as the two of you start to get lost in each other. His hand reaches up, up, gently sliding the edge of your dress up your thigh, working his way nice and slow to where he wants to be. To your aching center that yearns for his touch.

Before he can make it any further, the doorbell rings, forcing the two of you apart as you lift up off his lap. He sighs as he pushes off the couch, muttering something under his breath that sounds like a complaint of interrupting him when he was busy with you. You giggle at his ramblings and wait till he comes back.

You hear the exchange of pizza and money and can smell the fresh cheese and pepperoni that wafts through the air of the dark living room. After another minute, Joel comes in and sets the pizza on the coffee table, telling you to eat up. You grab a slice and take a bite, letting the warm goodness fill your stomach as you set your eyes on the movie again, trying to keep focus on that instead of the handsome menace of a man that sits next to you.

“So, what’s so attractive about a killer that wears a mask? I don’t get it. With all the viral videos of masked men goin’ around, I don’t get the fuss. I even catch Sarah’s friends talking ‘bout it sometimes.” Joel shakes his head and takes another bite out of his pepperoni slice.

You giggle in response. “I don’t know. Guess that’s kind of a part of the dark romance culture now and can be kinda thrilling? A masked man in the bedroom. I mean, I get why they like it. It’s just something new and intriguing, a little dangerous, exciting even…” You stop there, not wanting to give away that you too might have a mask kink.

“Oh, is that right?” Joel smirks deviously, one of his eyebrows rising higher as he looks directly at you. “You into that shit, too?” he asks curiously as he takes his last bite, lapping his tongue along his lower lip and wiping away the last evidence of red sauce from his mouth. You try your best not to bite your lip, wanting to lick every single scrap of sauce off him slowly.

“I mean, I get the hype. Guess it would be kind of hot,” you blush, looking down at your lap to hide the crimson of your cheeks.

“I knew it,” he says as he claps a big hand on his thigh in knowing. “So you’re saying if I ever bought one of those dumb masks, you’d want me to wear it in the bedroom?” he asks as his eyebrows go up curiously while his hand digs into the back of the couch forcefully.

“I think I’d just prefer to see your handsome face, Joel. Besides, I don’t see you doing that anyways,” you laugh and hit him playfully in the shoulder.

“You’re right, darlin’. Don’t think I’d do that either,” he chuckles.

“But,” you lean into his chest and press your glossy lips to the shell of his ear seductively. “Think I’d let you put me in some handcuffs though,” you purr out as you tug on his earlobe and pull back with a sly smirk on your face.

You see the way his pupils expand and the way his chest rises and falls deeper as the blood flows thicker in the veins of his neck. You see the way he adjusts himself on the couch and clears his raspy throat. You started something, and now he’ll have to finish it.

You smile to yourself triumphantly and turn to face the tv, scooting up to the edge as you reach for your Dr. Pepper and take a refreshing sip, setting it back down on the glass coffee table when you’re done.

You hear Joel’s voice come out raspy and deep behind you. “Is that right, sweetheart? You’d let me handcuff those pretty wrists to my headboard?”

You squirm on the edge of the couch and press your legs together, feeling the heat start in your center like a volcano that’s about to rupture. “Mhmm,” you hum out carefully, trying to suppress a moan from coming out of your throat.

“Hmmm.” He leans over and presses his lips against the shell of your ear, his hot breath breathing down your neck and making you feel things you can’t control. “Think I need to go buy a pair of handcuffs then, sweetheart. Show you all the ways I can make you cum while you’re tied to my bed. What do ya think of that, huh? Sounds… erotic as hell,” he whispers darkly in your ear, leaving you panting for more as you keep your eyes focused on the movie on the big screen, watching Ghostface run down the stairs after his next victim mercilessly. He presses a gentle kiss against your cheek and scoots back into the couch, leaving you breathless and wanting.

Just when you think he’s done teasing you, he starts playing with your pink ribbon and runs his hands through your long waves, making your heartbeat gallop like the hooves of a racing Clydesdale against his touch.

“Such a pretty pink ribbon in your hair, baby,” he teases, starting to tug on your hair harder now as he pulls lightly on the curls.

“Mhm, it is,” you reply with a breath held.

“You know I love when you do your hair like this, in these curls. So long and soft to the touch. Can easily do this.” He tugs your head back and pushes you down into the couch. Your hands grip the side of the couch while your ass is up in the air, exposing all for Joel to see.

You feel his hands raise your skirt up to your hips, exposing the meaty flesh of your ass as you feel the cool air brush against the backs of your bare thighs. You hear Joel hum out in approval as he fixes his massive hands over your ass, one hand trailing down as his fingers brush the soaked material of your lace which makes a groan escape your lips.

“White lace, huh? Looks s’good on you, sweetheart. Already so wet for me, ain’t ya? Look at you drip, so fuckin’ wet, baby. Goddamn,” he whistles as he takes his thumb and trails a long line down your center, gathering more slick against the material. You whine out and he chuckles lightly.

“S’right, baby. Gonna make you really whine in a minute,” he murmurs as he slides the wet lace down your legs, gently unclasping your black heels and dropping them to the floor as he unhooks the lace from around your ankles and disposes them on the ground, leaving you completely bare for him to look at.

He slides his calloused thumb over your wetness, and you shiver with need. “Joel, please,” you beg, another whine purring out of you as you feel the pad of his thumb ghost across your clit, leaving you with a pent up cry in your chest.

“What do ya need, baby? Tell me,” he asks, barely touching your folds with the tops of his fingertips which makes you clench up over nothing.

“Need your fingers, your mouth,” you beg, your voice high-pitched from want. With need.

“That so, darlin’?” he teases as he spreads your folds with the tips of his index and middle finger, sliding them up until you can feel them pressed against your clit, drawing slow, meticulous circles as you hear the wetness gathering on his fingers.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan as you dig your fingers into the side of the couch, clawing your light pink fingernails as a way to get ahold of yourself before you’re lost into a sea of lust.

“S’right, sweetheart. I know exactly what you need,” he coos.

Before he takes it any further, he drops his hand from your center and lays back against the couch, leaving you out of breath and waiting. “Why’d you stop?” you whine as you turn in the direction he’s in and see him smirking up at you with trouble written all over his face.

“C’mere,” he calls as he curls his index finger in his direction, beckoning you to come over to him.

You look questionably at him and raise a brow. “What?” you ask as you slowly scoot your legs over his, dropping down on his hips carefully.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Not there, sweetheart. Up here,” he smirks as he points to his face. Your eyes go wide at the meaning.

“You want me to…” you trail off, unable to finish your sentence.

“S’right. Want you to sit on my face. C’mon now,” he smirks, a devilish grin taking over his face as his eyes grow dark. He places his hands on your hips as he slides you up his broad chest, stopping just before you get to his neck. You pause right there, blushing as all of a sudden you get extremely nervous.

“Joel…” you choke out, unable to finish your sentence.

“Don’t be shy, baby,” he says gently, lifting your dress above your hips as it exposes your bareness for him. He drags his eyes down your center and licks his lips, his eyes blown out as you feel his breath pick up beneath his chest. “Such a pretty pussy, baby. Drippin’ and screamin’ my name,” he groans as his eyes devour you in full. “C’mon now. Sit on my face,” he demands.

You gulp and scoot your hips up, hovering just above his mouth as you stay there, nervous and turned on at the same time.

“I didn’t say hover, sweetheart. I said sit,” he demands, digging his hands into your hips as he tries to lower you down, but you hold back, afraid to crush him.

“But won’t I crush you?” you ask with your breath caught in your throat.

“The only thing that’s gonna crush me is if you don’t sit the fuck down and ride on my face. Now sit!” he growls as he forces your weight down on top of him, the curls above your mound sitting atop his curved nose as he breathes you in deeply.

He inhales your savoury scent and drags his rough tongue all the way from your dripping hole to the tops of your folds, catching the end of your clit as you whine out with need.

“Goddamn, baby. Taste and smell s’good, darlin’. Hold on tight. Not gonna stop till I make you cum all over my face, not gonna stop till you moan my name, not gonna stop till you’re all mine,” he growls as he hooks his arms around your thighs and dives back in.

He slowly drags his tongue over all of you, slotting himself between your folds and lapping meticulous circles around your puffy clit. You feel more slick spill out of you and feel him take your bundle of nerves into his mouth, sucking and slurping as every single nerve ending comes alive against his mouth. When he releases, he shoves his tongue into your wet hole, plunging into your core as you vibrate and fall apart against him.

You twist your fingers into his tousled curls and moan his name with a lull, lost in complete bliss as he works his tongue up and down up and down, making the room foggy with the smell of your arousal and the loud moans you’re giving him. “Joellll, fuck,” you moan as you pull at his hair, sliding yourself up and down his mouth as you ride his face exactly like he wants you to.

He groans at your movements, groans at the way you tug on his curls as his tongue works and works to make you fall apart around him. He slaps your ass hard and digs his nails into your thighs as he speeds up his hot tongue.

He’s pulling, sucking, munching at your clit as you feel the building orgasm. You feel it start in your spine, sliding down to rest in the pit of your stomach as you’re almost there, feel it about to take flight as your toes curl and your fingers slip deeper into his wild locks. He knows you’re close, knows exactly what he’s doing. He can’t speak, too far gone in pleasuring you with his mouth, too deep with sucking your throbbing bundle of nerves again and again as his nail beds prod into your flesh.

He loves to feel you come apart, loves to taste your arousal drip down his throat, loves to hear you moan and thrive while you’re about to come undone, and loves when you pull his hair and moan his name while he has his way with you.

You grind your pussy against his mouth, feel how soaked you’re getting him, and it just makes you that much closer to spilling yourself all over him. You feel him groan against your folds, hear him practically whisper the words into your ear as he licks and sucks you repeatedly into his drooling mouth.

Atta girl. There ya go.

Say my name, sweetheart.

C’mon. Give it to me. That’s a good fuckin’ girl.

He pulls your throbbing clit into his mouth and sucks hard, setting off every single nerve ending in your body. He sucks nice and slow and you feel yourself fall apart right there on his hot tongue. You roll your hips and feel the heat slide down your body as you clench over nothing and spill yourself all over his mouth, hearing his groan as he laps up all your slick while you fist his hair roughly through your fingers.

You take a minute to let your panting die out and wait for your body to come back down to earth after your intense face riding orgasm. When you slide back to rest on his chest, you see just how drenched and glistening his mouth and beard are from all your slick and cum. And fuck is it hot.

He smiles up at you as he catches his breath, his blown out pupils relaxing into pure brown warmth as he watches you with admiration on his face. It’s probably the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

“Rode me s’good, baby. Love the taste of you,” he hums, his crows feet crinkling up at the corners of his eyes as you get lost in those pools of warm honey.

“Yeah, well, I have an excellent instructor with an experienced tongue,” you purr, winking down at him with a big smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

He chuckles and responds, “Always happy to put my tongue to good use. Especially for you.”

You bite your lower lip and grin down at him, completely entranced by him. You’re so lucky, so fucking lucky. The luckiest girl in the world.

You shift off him and start to turn the other way as you move your legs away from his chest. Before you can crawl to the other side of the couch, he grabs your calves and pulls you back toward him. “Now where do you think you’re goin’, sweetheart?” he asks with an edge to his voice.

“Huh? What do you mean?” you ask as his large hands wrap around your ankles, pulling you back up to him as he tangles you around the roots of him, firmly planting you to his chest.

“M’not done with you yet, baby girl. You’re gonna give me another one,” he purrs, his deep voice thundering out of his chest like a bear ready to attack.

“Another one? But I’m… I’m so sensitive and…”

He shuts you up quick. “No, you’re not too sensitive. I know what you can handle, and you’re gonna fuckin’ take it like the good girl I know you are,” he growls as he drags you back up to him, hovering just over the edge of his mouth as you feel his hot breath connect with your wetness that’s already dripping for him again.

Fuck.

He wraps his strong arms around your hips and tugs you down where your folds are connecting with his plush lips, and the feeling is already overwhelming. But you need it, need him. You suck in a breath as he licks a long stripe up the entirety of you and you moan out for more.

“Need you so bad, daddy. Please,” you beg, digging your hands into the thighs of his dark jeans as your nails embed in him.

“I’m gonna give it to ya, sweetheart. Daddy’s gonna lick every inch of that pretty pussy,” he purrs as he licks another stripe up your folds, spreading you out to devour your needy clit.

You groan out and dig into his jeans, needing something to latch onto. When you open your eyes and look down, you see his bulge pressed against the thick fabric of his jeans, begging to be released.

You take your hand and grab around his thickness, working him through the denim of his pants. You hear him groan under your touch and bite your lip at the idea that dances through your mind. You’re going to sixty-nine with him. This is what’s going to send you over the edge.

You carefully unzip his zipper and free his bulging erection, taking him in your hand as you see the precum release from his slit and lap over the edges of his tip, working your hand nice and slow over him to spread the precum over his entirety.

His skin’s soft in your hand as you slide it back and forth over his large length, feeling the thick veins that spider around him that end just underneath the tip of his head. His head is red and swollen and screaming for you to taste him, and you’re happy to oblige.

Just as you meet your lips at his head and slide your tongue across his drenched tip, he shutters underneath you and lifts your hips just enough to speak as you feel the salty precum slide down your throat all hot and bubbly like.

“Fuck, baby. What’re you doin’?” he says with clenched teeth as you squeeze his cock, gliding your hand up and down his shaft as you turn to face him, smirking down at him with a devilish grin forming on your lips.

“What do you mean what am I doing? Isn’t it obvious? We’re sixty-nining,” you purr, licking your lower lip as you watch his pupils blow out into big black pits.

“Sixty-nine, is that right? You’re a dirty girl, kitty cat,” he smirks as he takes his index and middle fingers and pushes them inside you nice and slow, curling his fingers up to hit that spongy soft spot that makes you clench up against him and moan out slowly.

“That’s right, right there. That feel good?” he asks as you bite your lip and nod at him, choking out another moan as he curls his fingers higher, setting a wildlife throughout your entire core.

“Yes, daddy. Feels incredible,” you groan as you rock against his fingers, letting your own hand twist up and down his hard, wet length in your hand. You want to taste him, now.

“Fuckin’ sixty-nine. And with the prettiest girl in the world? Shit, baby. You’ve got me wrapped around your finger like that pretty pink bow in your hair,” he says with a gentle laugh that sounds a little like unbelief in his voice.

You giggle out a laugh as you stare at him as he smiles up at you between your legs. “Got you wrapped around my finger, do I?”

“Mhm, that’s right, sweetheart. All mine,” he says with a crooked grin curling up over his lips, sending your heart into overdrive.

“All yours,” you confirm with a soft smile.

He takes a minute to look at you, warm eyes focused on your face softly. Then his eyes shift into something dark and carnal as he brings you back down to his mouth.

“Well, go on, darlin’. I’ll take care of this needy pussy while you show me how good you can suck my cock,” he smirks, letting his fingers release from you as he wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you down on him again. You choke out a moan as his tongue presses deep into your folds and up your dripping hole.

You focus back on his hard cock in front of you and go back down, circling his head as you lap up his salty precum and then dive down on him, taking his long length in your mouth as your hand slides up and down him slowly, savouring his taste on your tongue.

You take him as far in your mouth as you can, making sure you hit the back of your throat and choke on him while tears spill down your face as you take him deep in your throat over and over again.

You hear his moans fill the room as his tongue circles your clit, hearing your own moans get washed out by the sound of you gagging on his thick cock as your spit drips down his length and into the coarse hairs that cover his base.

The wet, sticky, messy sounds of Joel eating you out and the gagging sounds of you deep throating his massive cock again and again mix together, forming a wet, harmonious melody that reverberates off each other. It causes more slick to slide down your center as he licks and sucks and pulls on your needy clit. It’s too much, too fucking hot. This is the best, most intimate thing you’ve ever done. But you have a feeling this won’t be the end of it because he’ll want more, you’ll want more. It’s only going to get hotter, more primal, more possessive as you continue.

Joel Miller may be a fucking menace, but you’re no better. You’re a temptress spinning your web as you trap him, seducing him to you, pulling him and making him yours. Both of you wrapping each other into a complete tangle until both of you are completely, irrevocably bound to one another. Just like a moth to a flame, you’re pulled to him as he is to you. Two hearts beating wildly for the other just the same.

The room is hot and sticky as both of you get lost in each other’s ecstasy. Moans echoing off the walls as you both are close to orgasm, both so fucking high off each other that you never want to come down. You just want to stay where your bodies are panting in sweat as you continuously get lost in each other’s bliss and euphoria. You’ve never experienced a high quite like this before. Never experienced anything ever like this. It’s just you and Joel, two bodies completely consumed in the other with no plans of ever slipping away from each other. It’s just Joel.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

You start to clench up, feel your walls fluttering as they’re about to spill, feel the way he sucks your clit into his giving mouth as his tongue travels up the entirety of you, covering you in his own spit and drool. And it’s so fucking hot.

“C’mon, baby girl. Give it to me. Cum for me. Wanna feel it,” he groans as he pulls your clit into his mouth and sucks hard. And that’s when you come apart for him, that’s when you feel yourself let go.

You release your lips from his cock and feel a string of drool fall from your lips and attach to the tip of his head, thinking of nothing as you throw back your head back and moan his name as it echoes across the room. “Joellllll, fuck,” you moan as you release white hot liquid all over his mouth. He’s greedy and takes it all, licking you clean as you hear his mouth drink you up, leaving nothing behind.

You rub up and down his cock faster, feeling him stiffen underneath you as his breath goes shallow. Ragged moans leave his chest as he grips your thighs tight and moans out your name slowly.

“Oh fuck, oh shit,” he slurs as you lap at his tip, teasing him before you take him again.

“That’s it, daddy. Go on and cum for me. Wanna take you all in my mouth,” you purr as you wrap your mouth around him again, bobbing up and down as you deep throat him, hearing the gagging noises that send him over the edge. He’s right there, just on the edge. You go down again and hold your mouth there as you take him deep, feeling your throat constrict around his thick cock.

“Baby, m’gonna… gonna cum… oh, fuck,” he moans as you feel thick ropes of cum hit the back of your throat, swallowing his large load down as the salty, delicious taste dances down your tastebuds.

You work over his length nice and slow, not stopping till he’s finished cumming. And just when you think he’s done, he surprises you and pours out more inside your mouth.

You see his hand shoot to his sweaty forehead as he grabs at his messy curls, see his eyes roll back as he moans your name again and again. It sounds like music to your ears, something angelic and addictive sinking into your soul at just the sound of him cumming. It’s your sanctuary, your favorite tune in the world. And you’d never get enough of it, never.

When he’s finished sending his spend down your throat, you slowly release your mouth from him as drool cakes your chin. His cock is so messy with spit and drool that you blush at the job you just did on him.

You feel his chest heave up and down underneath you, his breathing gradually slowing down little by little. You take a second to catch your own breath, gulping down breaths of fresh air that smells like him. There’s something beautiful in the rhythm of both of your breaths in sync. It’s almost like you share the same heartbeat, something so intimate about it that you can’t even shake the euphoric feeling. It’s the best thing you’ve ever experienced. He’s the best thing. Joel is.

After a few minutes he helps you sit up as he pulls his briefs and jeans back up over his softening cock. When he sits up, he grabs your lace panties from the floor and pulls them up over your legs, securing them back into place over your overstimulated pussy. He pulls down your dress over your thighs and lays back down against the couch, bringing you down with him.

You sink into his side and wrap an arm around his chest as he cradles you in his arms gently. He takes his hand and runs it up and down your arm, leaving goosebumps over every square inch of skin he marks as his own. And this feels right, all of this feels right. He feels right.

He presses a kiss against your forehead and showers you with the perfect aftercare cuddles. He’s so good, the absolute best at aftercare. It’s always been your favorite ever since the first time he did it with you in this very living room that you sit in now. Joel Miller might be dominant in the bedroom, but he’s a big softie underneath it all. He’s the perfect combination of rough around the edges and pure honey everywhere else.

“Did s’good for me, sweetheart. Always do s’good for me,” he purrs as he places another gentle kiss over your forehead. “My perfect girl,” he whispers, and you can’t help but smile at the words. My perfect girl.

“Mhm, your perfect girl,” you whisper back as you snuggle into him more, sinking into his chest as his soft t-shirt scrapes along your jawline.

“I like the sound of that,” he laughs, his raspy chuckle that sounds like a symphony of guitars in your ear.

“Me too,” you whisper back.

As the movie comes to an end, Joel grabs the controller and puts on Halloween as you hear the theme song play from the speakers. He relaxes his arm back down around you and pulls you closer to where your cheek is nestled in the crook of his neck as he takes his other hand and runs his fingers through your waves. And this might be your favorite thing ever. Being in his arms. You never want him to let go. Never ever.

You feel yourself start to slip into unconsciousness, feel yourself relax into him as the darkness pulls you under. You don’t know when, you don’t know how, but after a few minutes of cuddling you and Joel fall asleep, wrapped in each other’s warmth as sleep takes you down fast.

And then something happens, something unexpected and unwelcome.

After what seems like hours of sleep, you’re woken up to the harsh lights of the living room being turned on. You jolt awake and sit up, blinking a few times to get your eyes situated to the fluorescent lights above. Joel rubs his eyes and follows your lead, adjusting to being woken up from a deep sleep. Your jaw drops when you see who’s standing in the corner of the room. Sarah.

Oh, fuck.

“I knew it, I knew!” she jumps up and down as her long curls bounce up and down along with her, a big smile spread across her face as she can’t seem to keep her excitement down.

“Shit,” Joel mutters under his breath as your eyes go wide in panic. You try to speak but you can’t. You’re frozen, not knowing what to do or say. You’ve been caught red handed.

“I knew it all along! This is so exciting! You and dad? Oh my God, I’m a genius,” she squeals as she jumps again.

“Sarah! Calm down,” Joel warns as his eyes narrow slightly. Sarah stops jumping but continues beaming at the both of you. You feel like your heart is about to come out of your throat. Your dad. What if she tells your dad?

“Sarah, you’re not gonna tell my parents are you? They’d kill me,” you rush out with your breathing uncontrolled. It feels like you're about to throw up with the knot that’s in your stomach. Joel notices your panic immediately and does what he can to calm you down.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” he urges as he cups your chin and turns you toward him, his deep brown eyes almost calming you down. Almost. “She’s not gonna tell them. Right, Sarah?” he asks as he turns to her, giving her that knowing look.

She imitates her lips being a zipper and acts like she zips them tight. “My lips are sealed. Promise,” she nods as she looks back and forth between the two of you, your anxiety slowly calming down at the confirmation.

“See? She won’t say a word. It’s gonna be okay, darlin’,” he confirms as he soothes you over, one hand rubbing your thigh to calm you down. You nod in acceptance.

Sarah calls your name and you look up. “I’ve noticed the way dad’s looked at you for a while now. Been wondering when he was going to make a move,” she laughs, shaking her head. “He’s liked you for a long time, even if he never told me. I could see it in his eyes.”

You just look over at Joel and smile at him. “Yeah, I’ve liked him for a long time, too,” you say quietly. Joel meets your eyes and smiles at you, the corners of his lips curling up to form those perfect dimples again.

“This is so cute, I think I’m gonna throw up,” she says as she claps her hands together.

“Alright, alright. Go on up and go to bed, it’s past your bedtime,” he says as he points at the clock that says five past midnight.

“Okay,” she groans. “Night, love birds,” she sings as she leaves the room and heads up the stairs.

“You sure she won’t say anything?” you ask nervously, anxiety still swirling through your gut.

“If there’s one thing she’s good at, it’s keeping secrets. So, think we’re safe,” he confirms as you blow out a breath you had been holding.

“That’s a relief. I guess she was bound to find out at some point, right?”

“Yeah, guess you’re right,” he says as he nods his head. His calloused thumb shifts against your jawline and he leans in and presses his lips against yours. You lean into him and get lost in his scent, in his abundance of warmth. When you hear the creak of the stairs, you pull apart from his lips fast.

Joel leans over the couch annoyed and peeks up at the stairs. “Sarah?” he asks in a deep voice, warning her to stop spying.

“Uhh, yeah?” she asks nervously.

“Bed. Now,” he growls. She obeys and runs up the stairs, not wasting a second of time. He sighs in annoyance. “She’s never gonna let me live this down,” he groans.

“Hey,” you say as you grab his hand and entangle your fingers in his. “I’ll be right there with you through it.”

He rasps out a chuckle and looks you in the eyes, calm brown eyes returning to look at you. “You want me to take you home? I can drop your car off tomorrow.”

You shake your head no. “Can I stay here tonight? Don’t really want to go home. I’d rather stay with you.”

“‘Course, sweetheart. You always have a place here.” He pushes a curl behind your ear and pulls you back in, planting his lips against yours as a warm wave of peace and serenity cloud your mind.

“C’mon. Let’s get you up to bed.” He pulls you up and picks you up bridal style as you squeal out and wrap your arms around his neck. You kiss his cheek and tuck your head against the crook of his neck as he carries you up the stairs. And somehow you know it’ll be okay. Things will turn out okay because you’re with Joel.

So when he pulls you tight against him under the sheets and you're wrapped in his t-shirt with his arms around you, you know you’re in good hands. Nothing can ruin what you and Joel have. Not even your dad. Joel has your whole heart and nothing can change that now.

Tags: @amyispxnk @janaispunk @blueseastorm @joelmillersblog @joelalorian @heartstoptrying @littlevenicebitch69 @getitoutofmymindwrites @akah565 @keylimebeag @dugiioh @laurrrra @untamedheart81 @roostersforevergirl @itsokbbygrl @pedrostories

Part 4

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 1 year

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Tohru Honda: a Subversion of Shoujo’s Nice Girl Trope

Fruits Basket absolutely nails subverting your expectations of character tropes in anime.

Momiji is introduced as the cute childish boy but boom we are slapped with the fact that he a mother who hated him so much she had her memories wiped of him. Shigure right off the bat looks like the typical perverted uncle of anime when in reality he is one the most manipulative characters in the series. Ayame is the flamboyant, boisterous one whose bravado hides his regret and desire to repent for his past neglect of his younger brother. Which ultimately brings me to the protagonist of Furuba itself, Tohru Honda.

I'll make it no secret that I have a huge soft spot for Fruits Basket as a series. It was the first manga I read, I watched the 2001 series and I was right on the hype train when I saw it was getting a remake that would follow the manga storyline. But I did my best to be as objective as possible in this essay of sorts saying why I believe Tohru is a great example of subverting the "Nice Girl Protagonist" of Shoujo. Tohru is the protagonist of Fruits Basket and when it comes to those who don't like her, it seems she can be hit or miss due to the assumption that she is perfect.

The general consensus of those who do not like her or find her bland compared to the rest of the cast is that Tohru is a perfect and bland protagonist with no issues of her own. That all she does is wave her healing wand of warm smiles and makes everything better for those around her.

However, that opinion couldn't be more misguided. In reality, Tohru is just as emotionally broken as the Sohmas and they mend her heart just as much as she mends theirs. As such, I hope to show those who find her bland or otherwise boring that there is more substance to Tohru's character than they believe.

At first glance, Tohru does seems like your typical Shoujo protagonist. She's nice, almost to a fault. She would rather talk her way out of a situation instead of throwing hands, she doesn't get mad in situations other typically would, and she has a hard time asking for help. Oh and with a dash of anime originality, she's an orphan. However even as early as episode 1, you can see hints that Tohru is not going to be the usual nice girl protagonist with her desire to work and be as independent as possible. The mangaka does a great job throughout the series showing with hints and broad examples that Tohru is just as complex as the colorful cast around her.

Ironically enough though, when hints of Tohru's trauma are sprinkled throughout the series it is seen as annoying even when the Furuba takes time to give insight into why she does the things she does.

She mentions her mother constantly in anecdotes of whimsical stories or snippets of wisdom her mother imparted her with.

Compared to the death of parents to other anime protagonists, Tohru's situation is a bit more unique. Tohru's father may have died when she was young but the same cannot be said for her mother, Kyoko, who died fairly recently. When the series begins, Kyoko has only been dead for a few months and it is more than apparent as early as episode 1 that Tohru is desperate to keep any semblance of her mother's existence alive. Kyoko died before Tohru's first year of high school even ended and worse, was told in the middle of class. Tohru has had barely any time to heal from this loss and it is evident in how she talks to her mother's photo.

Yes, in Japanese culture, it may be typical to have photos of departed family members, making a shrine for them and leaving offerings from time to time. But Tohru takes this to a completely different level, showcasing how deep her trauma runs.

When she is digging frantically to take out her mother's photo after the landslide destroyed her tent, she cries "She can't breathe in there. She's in pain." And that's just episode one.

Nobody completely over the death of their parent would speak like this, referring to a photo as a living person. She lost her mother and she didn't even get a chance to say goodbye, even feeling guilt to an extent about the situation. Tohru didn't wake up to tell her mother that she would see her later. There is no way that simply getting up to tell her mother goodbye would have changed the outcome of her fate, but Tohru still feels that way. That it didn't matter if she had tests or work or the next day, the one she should have put first was her mother.

Anyone who has or is currently experiencing the grief of losing a loved one has likely done the same. Wondering if, if the situation was anything other than illness or old age, there was something they could have done. Things they should have said or could have said differently. What more could they have done to help and the feeling is all consuming. Even if it is unprompted, they somehow will manage to insert their lost family or friend into a conversation that didn't include them or may randomly begin talking about them. A lot of the time, these people don't even realize that they're doing it which is shown in season 2 with Tohru when Hiro asks her why she talks about her mother so much.

She is too positive.

Tohru's positivity is one of the most easily seen aspects of her character. Where others might see the glass half-empty, Tohru sees it as half-full. Her positivity is even noted upon by characters within the show, Saki (Hanajima) mentioning that she doesn't believe she could personally smile like that so soon after the death of a loved one.

Tohru doesn't like thinking about her problems. She doesn't like expressing her sadness. She doesn't want to worry those around her when they likely have their own problems to worry about. Saki predicts that this ability Tohru has to act this way is because she would scold herself if she ever showed a hint of sadness. And Saki was right because we see Tohru later on doing exactly that, crying but forcing herself to try and smile and scolding herself for not keeping it together.

Rather than let Yuki comfort her when she is in tears, she smiles and completely changes the topic even though tears are coming down her face.Tohru tells Kyo that she needs a minute to get herself together because breaking down in tears in front of him wasn't what she planned. She was supposed to smile when she saw him again.

Tohru would rather pretend everything is fine even when she is seconds away from falling apart because toxic positivity is something she struggles with.

No one can be that positive all the time, not even Tohru.

Tohru has a hard time asking others for help.

Yes, Tohru is kind-hearted by nature but she genuinely does believe that she could burden those she troubles for help. Considering how her maternal side of the family wanted nothing to do with her and her paternal side of the family talks poorly about her, it isn't difficult to see where that frame of thinking came to be. When her mother died, her paternal side of the family didn't argue over who wanted to take Tohru in, they argued over who should take Tohru in and that is an important distinction. Even more so the fact, they had these arguments in front of her. When it was finally settled that she should live with her grandfather and that was uprooted due to upcoming renovations, it makes sense that she would rather be homeless in a tent than bother her friends who don't have the space to provide for an additional person even if that.

In Tohru's mind, it was shown very clearly by her family that she is a burden. She's an extra mouth to feed and an unwanted mouth at that, as her family never holds back in disparaging Kyoko even if Tohru is present.

As such, when Tohru is in a situation where she has no other choice than to accept their help, she believes she should be extremely grateful. They're taking their time to help her when they easily could have done otherwise, so why should she want more? Why should she complain? If she has any desires, she pushes it down because of that belief because she feels awful and that she shouldn't want for more when people are already going out of their way to help an extra mouth to feed. Because of this mentality cultivated by the bulk of her paternal relatives mistreatment, she will seldom voice her wants.

She never gets angry or upset.

To say Tohru never gets angry or close to physical in her reactions is far from the truth. Tohru gets angry when the issue impacts those that she cares about.

Tohru can tolerate being mistreated but she will always draw the line at the abuse being directed to someone else. When she first meets Akito and she sees Yuki's clear discomfort and fear, she pushes Akito away from him immediately. When she witnesses Momiji being punched by Akito, she immediately steps in and places herself in front of Momiji to physically shield him. When Rin tells her not to meddle with the curse and involve herself, Tohru, without cruelty, shoots back that she will absolutely meddle and involve herself because she refuses to lose the people she cares about to someone who has clearly been abusing them emotionally and physically for years. Tohru's tolerance for mistreatment has a limit, she is just unfortunately not included in that limit. So when we finally see her get angry in a scenario that includes herselfー when Kyo tries to run away because he feels he doesn't deserve her love, it's incredible.

There is so much more to Tohru than meets the eye. Tohu's reaction to Yuki getting a cold isn't just Tohru overreacting for the sake of being a nice girl, it's because her father died from a cold he brushed off and that cold turned into a fatal illness. For Tohru, colds aren't something that can just be brushed away because what if it turns into something worse.

Tohru would rather wear clothes until they practically fall apart than buy new clothes because she knows that she can't just spend her money haphazardly. But when it came to Valentine's Day and wanting to express her gratitude for those who cared about her, she had no problem dropping an entire check to purchase the ingredients to make enough chocolate for everyone.

She disregards herself and the efforts she puts forward. When she feels she has failed in helping Arisa, she specifically says "everyone around me has always helped me and when it is my turn to do the same, I can't." These aren't problems she overcomes herself by simply "smiling through the pain" as some who discredit her argue. Tohru is repeatedly loved and helped by those around her who care for her and opens herself up to receive that love and help over time. She is taught by her grandfather and Sohmas that is okay for her to be selfish and ask for things.

Her friends teach her that she helps them so much and that in reality they feel like they are never there to help her when she needs it.Her friends get upset that the same amount of money she would spend on them, she wouldn't spend on herself.

She is told that the way she villainized Katsuya after his death because doesn't make her dirty or a bad person because she was a child that was scared to lose her mother. That her fear and desperation to make her mother acknowledge her was understandable. That mimicking her father in her attempt to draw her mother's attention probably helped more than she realized.

Tohru is not just a "Nice Shoujo Girl" Protagonist, she is a girl with trauma who would rather focus on the issues someone else has than look to her own.

Like I said before, this isn't me trying to get Tohrus haters to like her. People are entitled to like and dislike whichever characters they please, but it is a complete disservice to Natsuki Takaya's writing to say Tohru is bland and has no struggles of her own. Tohru has many problems and struggles she has to deal with throughout the series and seeing those issues she overcomes being brushed aside as her being perfect and having no problems is a complete oversight. As such, I just simply wanted to peel back Tohru's layers and showcase that just as characters such as Momiji, Shigure and Ayame are more than the tropes they are introduced as, Tohru is as well.

[i wrote this on reddit too]

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astroismypassion · 2 years

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Social media poppin’

Or how to use the energy of your MC while on social media

Credit goes to my astrology blog @astroismypassion

Aries MC, ruler of the 10th house in the 1st house, Aries degree (1, 13, 25)

Post a picture of you hiking, climbing or being at the top of the mountain, photo of you in action/while doing something or intensely focusing on something, work out photos. Fresh starts. Selfies or where you are on the photo on your own. You in athleisure or work out clothes. Reaction videos. Live TikTok videos. TikTok challenges. Gym selfies. Running videos.

Taurus MC, ruler of the 10th house in the 2nd house, Taurus degree (2, 14, 26)

Post flowers, food, meals that you cooked/baked, new clothing. Photos of homemade goods (jams, pie, pizza). Photo of you in the grass or field of flowers. Photos of you at a coffeeshop with baked pastry. Teenage photos. Landscape photos. Photos of nature. What I Eat in a Day videos. Dance video. Cooking videos. Photos of you with a bouquet of flowers. Singing videos. Doing my makeup video.

Gemini MC, ruler of the 10th house in the 3rd house, Gemini degree (3, 15, 27)

Post a photo of what you did with your hands (pastry, vase etc.), what you’re currently learning (coding, pottery), show your face without makeup, start a blog, start a running journal and post it online. Sell things you don’t need. Facebook Marketplace. Write a short story. Or the story of when you almost gave up. Photos in the library. Hands photos or couple holding hands. Whiteboard videos. Unboxing videos. Gaming videos. Animated videos. Tutorial videos. Language channel. Grammar video. Photos of you at your old elementary or high school. Live stream.

Cancer MC, ruler of the 10th house in the 4th, Cancer degree (4, 16, 28)

Showcase your close friend, family members (especially your mother) and other siblings. Photos of you in childhood or your home, before and after photos, photos of your family members generations ago, whatever you’re collecting. Family game nights. Photos of the rain. You in a vineyard or a wine gathering. Baby photos. Photo of the Moon. Post about children’s rights. Christmas video. Home/family videos. Birthday collage of photos. Singing videos.

Leo MC, ruler of the 10th house in the 5th house, Leo degree (5, 17, 29)

Show your doodles, drawings, the latest creative project. People just love your personality, so showcase whatever makes your personality stand out more. Photos from a date, a picnic. Soft launches. Photos from a live concert. Photos of you at a theatre. Love song. Love poem. Photo of you doing something creative with children or young adults. Posts about politics. Photos of your back. Music video. Short film. Lip-sync (singing) videos. Post about education. Dance video. Video essay. Fan made video.

Virgo MC, ruler of the 10th house in the 6th house, Virgo degree (6, 18)

Showcase your drawings, doodles, paintings, sculptures, collages. Review foods, describe your daily duties and reaponsibilities at your workplace, start a blog, photo of you in an actual shop. Journaling, news. Content about how to organize, eat in a more balanced manner. Masquerade photo. Photo with you reading in it. You on the bicycle. Workout videos. Ask me anything videos. Educational videos. Draw my life videos. Product reviews. Study with me video. Study with me video. “Choki” type of comforting videos. Etiquette videos. Language channel. Day in my life video. Video about a job profile.

Libra MC, ruler of the 10th house in the 7th house, Libra degree (7, 19)

Post cakes, cookies, pastries, you enjoying your meal in a nice restaurant. Couple photos. High-key launching of your partner (people LOVE to see who you’re paired with), wedding photos, engagement photo. Furniture pictures in your home. Photos celebrating love. Dressed up photo. Autumn photos. Photos of nature. Photos of jewellery. Brand deals. Lifestyle blog. Dance video. Doing nails. Get ready with me video. Beauty vlogs. Make-up artist videos. Cooking channel. Sip’n’Paint videos. Couple cooking recipes. Relationship advice videos.

Scorpio MC, ruler of the 10th house in the 8th house, Scorpio degree (8, 20)

People love to see you wear leather, black matte clothes, stockings, tight clothing and everything black or red. Working out photos, ‘just ran a marathon’ photo, black cat photos. Photos of you from behind. You staring directly in the camera. Halloween photos. Photos of your eyes. Photos with a scarf. Swimsuit photos. Transformation videos. Weightloss journey. Behind the scences videos. Short documentary. Storytime/Tea time videos. “Haunted house” video.

Sagittarius MC, ruler of the 10th house in the 9th house, Sagittarius degree (9, 21)

Post videos, vlog, diary entries from your travels (especially long-distance ones), show that photo of your college degree, photo of you in an airport or in a foreign country. Motivational quotes. Inspiring stories from your life. Travel vlogs. Challenge videos. Study with me video. Representing your University (like those Day in life at University of Cambridge etc.). Language channel. Day in my life video. Videos about your native country. Geography channel. Travel vlogs with a friend or a partner (videos from date trips). Photos of you at your university. Graduation photo.

Capricorn MC, ruler of the 10th house in the 10th house, Capricorn degree (10, 22)

People love to see you in a uniform, full on suit, they love when you give off CEO AND parent energy. Post new career milestone that makes you look like a good provider. Photo of you being presented an award. Photo from the workplace. Photo with your parents on your birthday. Photos of mountains. Photos of your (grand) parents. Study with me video. Day in my life video.

Aquarius MC, ruler of the 10th house in the 11th house, Aquarius degree (11, 23)

Photos of a nature scavanger hunt. Photos of you volunteering. Photos of group gatherings. Astrology tiktoks. You coding or learning something new. Photos of you at a protest or a social activism gathering. Photo of the night sky or of the stars. Influencer content. Webinar. Drone shoots. Space food videos. Videos about electric cars. Tarot. Videos explaining astrology placements. Trailer. Zoom call video. Conference video.

Pisces MC, ruler of the 10th house in the 12th house, Pisces degree (12, 24)

Songs, poems, your love letter to someone, illustrations, tarot videos or tiktoks. Do yoga and document it. Selfcare videos. Movie night. A sleepover. Photos of you at the sea. Of you painting. Photos of the rain. Photos of you in a gallery, museum or a hospital. Astrology tiktoks. You at the movies. River/ocean/sea/waterfall photo. Animated videos. Short film. Paint with me video. Acting video. Open love letter to someone/your boyfriend.

Credit goes to my astrology blog @astroismypassion

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braidlottie · 2 months

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copycat

pairing: professor!matthews x transmasc!student!reader

summary: after your english professor catches you plagiarizing on your latest essay, she gives you a punishment you'll never forget.

tags: smut, nsfw, 18+ (minors dni), BIG age gap (reader is 19, lottie is 40), professor matthews and reader secretly dating!!! this is not just a random hookup lmao, spanking, teasing, dirty talk, handjob/blowjob, professor matthews being mean :((

word count: 1k

"any more questions?" your professor turned around to the class after wiping the board. she got no reply, shrugging and putting her glasses on her head, holding her hair back. "okay! have a good one, everyone!" she excused everyone, watching them put on their backpacks and walk out.

this being your last class today, you were so happy to get home and relax. you can do your homework tomorrow. "hang on, honey. can i talk to you really quick?" professor matthews touched your shoulder, pushing you back down into your seat. "uhh- of course. is everything okay?"

she shut the door, and drew the curtains on the windows. she sucked in a hard breath, sitting back down in her chair. she gestured a "come here" with her fingers, slipping her glasses back on. she pulled out another chair from behind the desk, and you walked over to her. and as you sat down, you saw multiple paragraphs highlighted red. "does this look familiar to you?"

you began to read the hook of the essay, your stomach dropping when you realized it was yours. you turned to your instructor with wide eyes, the feeling finally settling in that you were caught.

"wait! it's not what it looks like." you tried to save yourself, but there was no hope. "it's exactly what it looks like, sweetheart." her hands were crossed, giving you a serious but sympathetic look. "would you like to tell me why you would copy an article and think that you would get away with it? and don't lie to me."

you had never seen this side of lottie before. she was always so kind to you and seeing her so hostile and you being the cause of it, was a little intimidating.

"i-i couldn't think of anything to write, so- i don't know, i just copied that last minute and turned it in." you answered with a pitiful look, and she hummed. "i see. so what you're saying is, i gave you a whole week to write a two page essay and you forged it?" you nodded shamefully.

“such a naughty boy.”

something about that made your cock twitch.

"please don't tell anyone, can you just pass me like you always do?" you were pleading, knowing that plagiarism this serious could get you kicked out of school. "if anything, i should tell someone! i should drop you from this class right now."

regretful tears of shame began to well in your eyes, lottie noticing and sighing. "'m really sorry, lottie. just- don't drop me, please."

she tsks, standing up and holding your chin up. "fine, i won’t say a word to anyone. but i’m not letting you get off scot-free.”

she pulled you up by your shirt, one of her hand on your ass cheek and the other on your belt buckle. she slowly held up your shirt, marveling at your chest. you couldn't believe how fast she loosened your belt with one hand, the buckle jingling as you whined when you realized how embarrassing your boxers were.

"spider-man? really? god, you just get cuter and cuter, don't you?" she shook her head. "i want you to bend over, so i can spank that little ass. you deserve it for being such a bad boy." she forces you over her desk, pulling down your boxers teasingly slow. "lottie.. please..." you looked back at her, squirming when her nails scratched your ass. "you don't have to do this."

"oh, but i do." she smacked your right cheek, getting a loud groan out of you. "and you better stay quiet." lottie noticed how your groans got whinier and desperate after each spank. "i think you actually like this, hmm? you like it when your professor spanks you for being so naughty?" her voice got deeper, her rhythm not skipping a beat. you whined, shaking your head against the wood.

"then, what's this?" her hand swipes up your thigh, collecting the slick dripping into your boxers that you had no knowledge of. "i bet you're hard right now, hmm?" you couldn't even answer, groaning into the desk. she turned you around, your tdick rising from the surprising gust of wind. "aww, look at that," she lifted you up by your thighs, sitting you on the desk. she lifted up the hood, finding your throbbing, pink head. "fuck." you squirmed in her hold.

"ah, ah, don't curse. bad boy." your dick was held in-between her fingers, stroking you up and down. “fu-ahh!” you felt her hand slap over your mouth.

“am i going to have to gag you? be. quiet.”

now that you think about it, you were kind of glad you plagiarized.

you were trying to say something, but your mouth was still covered by lottie. “what was that, sweetie?”

“i want your mouth. please.”

“you want my mouth? where, sweetheart?”

you hated when she made you describe everything so literally, especially during sex.

“c’mon, tell me, baby.”

“you already know.”

“but i want you to tell me.” her hands squeezed around your waist.

“mm- i want your mouth on my cock, please.” lottie grinned at your shyness, soaking up all the adorableness from your embarrassment. “good boy. since you asked so nicely…”

she crouched down, tongue swirling about on your twitching cock, your cunt clenching onto nothing so needily. “lottie…”

“you know that’s not my name here, sweet boy.” she watched your face scrunch up in desperation. “professor… ‘m gonna cum,” you choked out, your thighs trembling from the wet, warm feeling of lottie’s lips sucking you.

“oh, i bet you are. cumming in your professors mouth on her desk? such a dirty little boy.”

you whimpered, so close to the edge.

then all of it just- stopped.

“nononono, please, please, lottie-” you shook your head, crying from the denial. “you didn’t think i was really going to let you cum, right?”

a tear flung from your eye and lottie scoffed, brushing it away with her thumb. “you’re still on punishment, darling.”

she pulled your shirt down and helped you off the desk, pulling your boxers and pants back up. “you better go home, and write that essay, the right way, and have it on my desk as soon as class starts monday. and you better not touch yourself. understand me?”

“yes.”

“yes, what?” she zipped up your pants, kissing your neck.

“yes, professor.”

“there’s my good boy. now run along.” she spanked your stinging bottom once more to send you on your way, watching your legs wobble as you scrambled out of the room.

taglist: @t4tnat @jaywritessometimes @girltwinklater @kessellluvr @lotties-ashwagandha @shipmanisms

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #lottie matthews #lottie x reader #lottie matthews smut #lottie yellowjackets #lottie matthews x reader #lottie mathews x reader #adult lottie #charlotte matthews #professor matthews

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tieronecrush · 8 months

Text

꒰ა ONLY ANGEL ໒꒱

javier peña x f!reader

chapter three: sugar & spice

series masterlist

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

summary: After his return to the US, Javier is trying to settle back into a normal life without the pressures of Colombia and the DEA, but he finds himself feeling isolated with no one to spend his nights with. Now a newly appointed criminology professor at Texas A&M, he is drawn to you, a post-grad student in one of his classes. You’re intelligent and witty, sweet and kind, and he can’t get you out of his mind. To cope with his growing loneliness and to rid himself of thoughts of you, he signs up for an “arrangement service” to connect him with somebody—a sugar baby—he can care for. After he is matched up with Angel, he finds himself developing feelings quicker than he ever expected, but what happens when he finds out Angel is really you?

series warnings: power imbalance (prof and student), sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, discussion of money, criminal activity, judicial systems, graduate school, smut, daddy/papí kink, praise kink, degradation, self deprecation, discussion of self worth, multiple sexual or romantic partners, sex work, cursing, use of spanish, likely more warning so read at your own risk!

word count: 9.6k

a/n: loving my prof. javi and thank you endlessly to @northernbluess for beta-ing <33333 love ya!

“Hey, angel.”

The signal isn’t great when you pick up the phone, an unfamiliar number piquing your interest as you sit on the floor of your bedroom painting your nails. The phone is pressed between your ear and shoulder, and hearing that low, raspy timbre through the cracking line brings a smile to your face and a stir of excitement in your stomach.

No, stop, stupid brain. He’s someone you’re seeing for work, you shouldn’t blur the lines with him when you have other arrangements.

“Hi, Javi.”

“What are you up to, cariño?”

The simple question brings a smile to your face, leaning back against your bedframe. You picture him in his own apartment, probably on his couch or in his bed; imagining his apartment is warm, with leather furniture and sharp edge surfaces — a balance of the firm and clean-cut facade with the worn softness of his gentle personality.

“Mm, painting my nails.”

“What color?”

“Burgundy. Like a reddish purple kind of color.”

“Y’know that’s my favorite color, angel. Bet it looks very pretty.”

“Are you gonna say that about every color I use for my nails? Something tells me we might have this conversation many times,” you giggle and can hear a breathy laugh from him.

“Maybe so. But I don’t think I’d be wrong, you’d look pretty in anything and with any nail color, querida,” you can hear shuffling on the other line, a faint sigh slipping from lips, “Any chance you’re free Friday evening, angel?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure, let me check.” You carefully stand from the floor, leaving the bottle there and walking over to your desk to look over your open planner. Skimming over the day, you see you have a date with a different man scheduled already, pouting to yourself.

“What’s the verdict, cariño?”

“M’sorry, Javi, I actually have something that night,” you confess, quickly following it up, “But I’m free Saturday if you are.”

“That works perfectly for me. Just selfishly wanted to see you sooner,” he runs his thumb across his bottom lip, knee bouncing out of nerves against the floor as he sits on the edge of his bed, “I’ll call you later this week to give you details?”

“That sounds perfect, Javi.”

He desperately wants to keep you on the line, to have your voice in his ear for a bit longer, so he’s scrambling a bit on what to ask you. The first thing that comes to mind spills out, “How’s the essay coming along?”

Palm to his forehead and rolling his eyes at himself, he relaxes only a bit when he hears you laugh, “Professor Peña making an appearance…It’s going alright, I think. I guess we’ll know when I get the grade back.”

“Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t mean to really ask that but I couldn’t think of anything else at the moment.”

“S’alright. Just like giving you shit when I can,” another laugh from you, he can hear you moving around your room, “What do you really want to ask me? Or are you only trying to keep me on the phone to track me or something like you do to your criminals?”

“Oh yeah, that’s just it. You caught me, cariño,” he chuckles, exhaling through his nose and smiling to himself like an idiot, “But really, I do want to keep you on the phone. I like the sound of your voice….Sorry, that might have been too weird.”

“No, no, not weird. It’s sweet…” You try to hold in your smile, attempting to calm the flips your stomach is doing from hearing that from him.

“Good, that’s good. Cause I liked telling you.”

It’s another half an hour before you are finally ending the call, nails all painted and even your toes too, checking the time and following up Javi’s answer to one of your questions.

“I think I need to go to sleep. M’sorry, I have a bedtime of a child during the week,” you laugh faintly, waiting for him to speak.

“No need to apologize, angel. Get some sleep, have some nice dreams. Thanks for staying up to chat with me, sweetheart.”

“Night, Javi. I’ll see you in class on Wednesday.”

“Can’t wait. Goodnight, angel.”

Scanning your eyes across the path down below, you easily spot Javi from your vantage point at the top of the stone stairs. He waves to you when he meets your eyes, waiting at the bottom for you with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. You make your way down the stairs in your muted paisley slip dress, black tights on your legs, and a shrug cardigan across your shoulders.

The staircase descends to an entrance for the San Antonio RiverWalk, a path throughout downtown lined with bars, restaurants, shops, and more. Javi had asked you here, saying he wanted to do something simple and spend time with you.

Why does he have to be so effortlessly romantic?

You are not supposed to have these kinds of feelings for him. It’s work, it’s a job.

At least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.

Javi grins when you make your way over to him, dressed in jeans, a button-up, and a green jacket with tan trim. He drinks you in, reaching a hand out for you to take and pulling you closer.

“Hey, angel.” His voice rumbles from his chest, low volume straining it slightly. With so many people around, he’s desperate to keep you all to himself.

“Hi, Javi.” Your smile widens as you squeeze his hand, inching ever so slightly closer.

As soon as he smells the notes of your perfume — vanilla, jasmine, and amber — his shoulders relax and warmth spreads throughout his bloodstream. It’s soft like cashmere and comforting like a hug, even in the short time he’s been exposed to it up close. With a kiss pressed to your temple, he gets one last inhale before pulling away, nodding toward the left to start walking with you hand-in-hand.

He asks about your day and intently listens as you recount your chores from today, one of which included taking your car in for an oil change. You’re explaining how they offered to get your brake pads replaced too, keeping your car overnight, and giving you a quote of a few hundred dollars over what it should normally cost for it all.

“That’s some bullshit, cariño. Send me the number of this place and I’ll take care of it. Shouldn’t be paying that much for simple repairs.” Javi clicks his tongue as he shakes his head, dropping your hand and wrapping an arm around your waist as the two of you maneuver through a crowd.

He takes your hand again once you clear the crowd, asking about your plans for Sunday. The conversation evolves as the two of you wind your way along the river, not paying much attention to how far you’re walking or anyone else around you.

“Y’know, you have the whole seventies-cool-guy-look down. Were those your golden years?” You snicker quietly as you tease him, slowly swinging your hands between you. He gives you a reprimanding look, not being able to hold it for long as his own smirk seeps in.

“You’re trouble, mi maltenida. With a capital T.” He hooks his arm closest to you over your shoulders, bringing your arm connected to his across your chest and pulling into his side. “Are you making a joke about my age, sabelotodo (smartypants)? You aren’t acting like you’re embarrassed to be seen with me so it must be at least tolerable to you.”

Javi nudges the side of your head with his nose, grinning through a kiss pressed to your scalp. You shrug and glance to your left at him, holding in your own smile, “Hey, I didn’t say anything! I only asked if they were your golden years. I didn’t say anything about your age or if I liked the clothes or not.”

“Sure, angel, sure. The power of intention is always there. And for the record, yeah, they were my golden years. Until now, maybe.”

Now? He must mean cause he’s a professor at a university and a retired DEA Special Agent.

Javi’s heart is thumping in his chest, and he has a small worry that you can feel his pulse with your hand in his. Listening to your footsteps click in sync against the stone path, he inhales your scent again and calms down.

He definitely feels like his time with you is pretty golden right now. What a change from what he felt like a year ago.

“Now? Enjoying your life as a professor that much?”

“Yeah, you could say that, cariño.”

The two of you had been wandering for a few hours now, chatting and drifting in and out of stores. In a bookstore, Javi insisted on getting you one of the novels that you had picked up and talked to him about wanting to read, calling you his ‘maltenida’ once again when you were protesting his purchase. Once you caved, he grinned and went to the counter himself, carrying the bag for you as you continued to walk.

“You hungry, angel? Or want to get a drink?” Javi rubs circles into your lower back, looking at you with a soft, closed smile.

“Hmm, guess I could eat, yeah. Should we walk around and find somewhere?” You start to glance around for something that catches your eye, feeling yourself being led off the path and up to a set of stairs to the street.

“Do you trust me, angel?” His voice vibrates in your chest, lips brushing against your ear and sending a tingle across your nerves.

“I trust you, Javi.”

“Good girl. M’glad to hear that,” he winks and moves his hand to take yours, interlocking your fingers, “I’ll take us somewhere you’ll love, promise.”

It’s about five minutes walk away from the river, further into downtown before Javi veers off to the left. You’re right along with him, stumbling a little to keep up with his wide gait; he slows when he notices you always a step behind, smiling sheepishly.

“Sorry, just excited to show you.”

Squeezing his hand in reassurance, you shake your head, “No need to apologize. The rush is keeping it all very exciting.”

The two of you share a quiet laugh before his steps completely slow to a stop in front of an unsuspecting set of double doors, labeled with numbers and letters that are reminiscent of library catalogs — the nerd in you realizes that it’s the Dewey Decimal system.

“What is this place?” A confused expression contorts your face, scrunching your nose and drawing your brows together in a pinch.

“Why am I gonna ruin the surprise now, angel? C’mon, you’ll see.” Javi holds the door open for you before following you inside. A hand is kept protectively on your back over to the staircase, stacks of books that look as if they’re stolen from a library lining the walls and the wide staircase. Ascending up to the second level, you comb your eyes over the open floor plan, Javi stepping over to a host’s stand to your right.

It’s dark, warm mood lighting illuminating the space minimally. Each small table has one of those built-in desk lamps you recognize from the outdated furniture in the university library, worn and stained wooden floors and tables fill up the restaurant area. The bar is made up of old bookshelves, still filled with books at the front and every chair or stool or booth is softened leather of all different jewel tones — emerald, sapphire, ruby, and amber.

If you were to ever design a restaurant, it would surely be something like this. It's a mix of that book, paper smell with delicious food being made, and there’s a quiet hum of chatter and music that isn’t overwhelming.

It’s the “if you know, you know”, off the beaten path kind of place.

And Javi wanted to take you here. He knew you would love it, he was excited to share it with you.

Again, with the being so fucking romantic and sweet and cute. Makes you want to smack his gorgeous face and walk away from it all so you don’t have to feel these feelings.

“They’re getting a table cleared now for us, angel. Should be a few minutes, you want to sit at the bar and grab a drink?” Javi saddles up next to you, grin tugging up one side of his mouth and exposing the dimple on his right cheek.

For a minute, all you can do is take in the sight of him. Groomed brown locks with the hint of an unruly curl at the nape of his neck. Quaffed mustache, likely trimmed today for the occasion of meeting up with you. Wide, rounded soft brown eyes that are looking at you with all the patience and affection in the world. Plush, pillowy lips that sit in a constant pout and make you want to kiss them all the time.

God, he’s fucking beautiful.

Why does he have to be such a good man too? Can’t he be an asshole for your sake?

“Y’alright, cariño? We can go somewhere else if you want, just thought you might like this place and—“

Cutting him off with a hand on his cheek, you smile widely, shaking your head, “I don’t wanna go, this place is wonderful. I love it….Thank you for bringing me here.”

He replicates your grin and shrugs off your gratitude, leaning in and kissing you chastely.

“Let’s go get a drink, mi maltenida.”

Javier gives you the last seat at the bar, leaning against the surface standing next to you, chest facing toward your seat and neck cranes to the side to grab the bartender’s attention. He’s got a hand on you constantly: roaming from your back over your waist and down to your hip before coasting along your thigh and doing it all in reverse. He orders for you, remembering what you got the last time you two were together and ordering his usual whiskey. After the bartender walks away, he turns to face you and his mouth forms a small ‘o’ in realization.

“I didn’t even ask if you wanted anything different. M’sorry, angel. Did you want to try something else? I’ll grab the bartender again.” He already turning away before you can answer, your hand reaching out for his that starts to extend up in a wave to the server.

“S’totally fine, Javi. Cálmate.” His eyes snap to yours at the sound of your accent being pulled out for your basic Spanish knowledge, a wide grin crossing his face.

“Aye, mi maltenida sabe español? Qué? (Oh, my sugar baby knows Spanish? What?)” his voice slips easily into his accent, the words effortlessly falling off of his tongue in his first language, “Eres la mujer más hermosa del sitio. Puedes entender lo que estoy diciendo, cariño? (You are the most beautiful woman in the place. Can you understand what I’m saying, darling?)”

“Um, un poco? I have the most minimal understanding and am terrible at speaking. I’m in a level 200 class right now and struggling to keep up,” you chuckle, taking a sip of your drink once the glasses are dropped off by the bartender.

“You don’t sound half bad to me, angel. Takes some practice to really get into it, but I’m sure you’ll be much more comfortable with it by the end of the year,” he smirks and leans in, lips close to your ear, “Plus, I can tutor you. One-on-one. Qué te parece? Puedo enseñarte mucho más que tu profesor.”

“You’re going to have to clue me in here, Javi. No entiendo.”

“I asked ‘How does that sound?’ And then I said ‘I can teach you much more than your professor.’”

“Oh, is that right? And what would you teach me?” You match his smirk, scooting to the edge of the stool with his hand gripping your hip a bit harder than before.

“Mm, cosas sucias.” His tongue peeks out to swipe along his bottom lip as he eyes your own mouth, translating without your request. “Dirty things. You want that, angel?”

A nod from you grows his smirk before you’re fully inching closer, pressing your lips to his in a slow, sensual kiss. There’s a bit of a push and pull before he wins out the upper hand, slanting his mouth against yours with quiet exhales.

Another thing to be angry about with this man: he’s a great fucking kisser.

Javier is the first to pull away, leaving you with one last quick peck before he sips his drink, glancing over his shoulder when the host comes by to seat you both. Javi backs up, helping you off of the stool and leaving behind your empty glasses on the bar. You walk next to him, following the host to a booth toward the back. Javier takes a seat on one side of the booth, expecting you to take the other. He’s surprised when you smile shyly, stepping toward his side and sliding in next to him. Backing up toward the inside, he bites back a wild grin at your move, cheating himself toward you.

Damn, he should’ve thought of that move in the moment. But to be honest, he’s glad you’re the one who made the move.

The reassurance calms his constant buzz of nerves, relaxing him as you now look to be the shy one.

“Is this okay? Probably should’ve asked,” your voice is gentle, well-mannered as you question him. Javi scoots closer, stretching an arm onto the top of the booth behind you and circles the knuckle of his index finger featherlight on your shoulder.

“More than okay, angel. Trust me.” He can’t help the grin on his face when he leans in, kissing you lightly and feeling your own smile against his lips.

With another inhale of your perfume mixed with your shampoo, he presses a kiss to your temple before turning to the menu on the table, looking it over with you.

“Gonna get the same thing, cariño?”

“Nah, I think I’m going to try one of their specialty cocktails. They're all named after books, it’s so fun.” Glancing at him, he can see the joy in your eyes and it makes his heartbeat double, looking back to the list.

“Well, which one are you going for?”

“I think I’m gonna do the Gin Eyre. It’s got a dash of sweetener, lemon, mint, and some orange bitters it says. Sounds good.” A faint chuckle slips from your lips, combing over the list. “You should try this one, Javi. The Catcher in the Rye. S’got whiskey, and then sherry, orange liqueur, something called Torani Amer, and bitters. I think you’d like it.”

You meet his eyes and he shrugs, “I dunno know, angel. Whiskey is my favorite but I’m more of a no-frills kind of guy when it comes to my drink.”

“Oh, c’mon, it’ll be fun. I’ll buy you a different one if you hate it. But you can get whiskey at any bar, this place is the only place that’s gonna serve a drink named after a Salinger book,” you plead and pout your bottom lip, fluttering your lashes as Javier tries to hold out. After another moment he sighs and rests his chin on your shoulder, squeezing you closer when his arm wraps around you.

“That look is pretty devious, cariño. How am I meant to say no to that?” He raises his eyebrows and presses his lips together when you laugh, smirking at him with a small lift of your shoulders.

“Guess you’re not supposed to say no.”

“Mhmm, devious, mi maltenida. Devious.”

At that moment, your server comes by to take your order, you giving him the drinks and telling Javi to order whatever food looks good to him. Once everything’s put in, you turn back to him while he leans into the corner of the booth, gently coaxing you closer.

“So if you’re gonna be my tutor, can you answer one question I have?”

“Course I can, ask away.”

“What does ‘mi maltenida’ mean? I’ve heard you say it a few times to me but I have no idea what it means but it sounds bad cause it’s got ‘mal’ in it.” Fingertips graze along his thigh closest to you, his arm around your lower waist coasting up and down your side a few inches.

“S’not bad, necessarily. Sure, it probably has a negative connotation in some circumstances but I mean it as something cute,” he clears his throat and pauses the roaming of his fingers, “Mi maltenida is my sugar baby.”

“Javi! I don’t wanna be called that, that sounds so bad.” Arms crossed in front of your chest, your touch leaves his thigh and you move to face forward with a pout.

“Hey, cariño, I said it didn't mean anything bad. I mean it as a term of affection. You’re so sweet and I like reminding you.”

“Doesn’t feel sweet. It literally has the word bad in the spelling of the word.” You pout more, and when Javi takes your chin between his thumb and index finger, he turns your face up to see genuine upset in your eyes.

“M’sorry, cariño, I was just teasing when I started calling you that. I won’t anymore, promise.”

“Is there something better out there? I like being something to you, just not something like that…” you trail off, not bothering to repeat the translated words. They make you feel dirty, like your feelings in your chest and your stomach right now, your nerves and excitement around this man, aren’t genuine when you reduce your relationship down to that. It makes you feel icky, that dark turn of your insides tugging the corners of your lips down.

“Hmm, what about mi bebita? That sound better to you?”

“What’s that mean? Little baby? I don’t know about th—“

“Babygirl. My babygirl,” Javi kisses the corner of your lips, his own smile peeking through. The press of his lips trails along your jaw and to your ear, until he can speak to you with a low, reverberating roll of his voice, “You wanna be my bebita? Would that make you happy?”

His voice is spreading heat along your neck and down your spine, settling in a syrupy pool between your legs. A languid nod rolls your head, Javi’s fingers once again turning your chin to face him.

“Can I hear you say it, please?”

A quiet clear of your throat pulls your voice back, responding to his request, “I wanna be your bebita.”

He hums with a satisfied smirk, closing the gap between you two to press a light kiss to your lips. Pulling away with a quiet smack of his lips, his hand drops to the top of your thigh and rubs gentle circles toward your center.

“Such a good girl for me. You gonna let me take care of you, bebita? That’s all I wanna do for you. Whatever you want, bebita, you can have from me.”

Underneath the skirt of your dress, you can feel your panties sticking to the wetness gathering there. As you’re nearly about to spread your legs and let him have you right there, the server returns with your drinks and food.

Javi pulls away from you, hand on your thigh possessively when the waiter checks you out from his higher vantage point. The burn of his stare crosses over your chest and your legs, bare from the mid-thigh down. The lick of his lips instantly makes you feel like prey, turning into the booth toward Javi to hide yourself even a little bit. At the discomfort of the wandering pair of eyes on you, your legs cross at your thighs and trap Javi’s hand there, one of your own holding onto his wrist.

There’s a clipped ‘thank you’ from your man at the table once everything is delivered, dismissing the younger guy and slipping his hand from between your thighs. There’s no acknowledgement made of the moment, only Javi running his hand across your back soothingly and picking up conversation about something else, immediately taking your mind off of the uncomfortable interaction.

Turns out you were right, and Javi loves the drink you asked him to get. The two of you share both of them, enjoying the picky bits that Javi chose from the menu. Conversation is easy, as always, and the room falls away around you as you get wrapped up in each other.

A small tug in his gut brings him to ask, “Did you draw in class a few weeks ago?”

You pause your search for the perfect fry, looking up at Javi with your hand frozen, “Uh, yeah, I think so….I kind of doodle in every class, it helps me focus. I can stop if—“

“No, no need. I was asking cause, well, I found one of your drawings after class a few weeks ago. It was at the desk you use and it was of me, I think.”

A quiet groan rolls from your throat, shoulders slumping as you shake your head and resume your fry search.

“God, that’s so embarrassing. Please tell me you threw it out.”

“No, fuck no. I kept it. Sits in my desk drawer and I take it out whenever m’thinking about you. Think it’s cute that I was your muse for the day,” he chuckles with a wide grin, leaning into the corner and admiring you with tender eyes.

“You kept it? As in, you still have it? Why? We weren’t even really anything back when I did that.”

“Told you, bebita, got a big ol’ crush on you.”

It’s another couple of hours and only a few drinks later that the bartender makes their rounds to announce closing. Your conversation took most of your attention for the evening, gently taking Javi’s wrist and checking the time on his watch.

“God, I didn’t even realize how late it was. Feels like it’s only been like an hour since we got here,” you laugh quietly as Javi signs the check, leaning over and pressing a supple kiss to his lips, “Thank you for tonight.”

A couple more kisses are shared before he leans back, smiling softly at you, “Thank you, bebita. I really like spending time with you.”

You slip out of the booth first and watch as Javi stands, groaning quietly before his hands find you again, wrapping you up close to him as you both make your way out of the bar.

“You need a ride home, angel?”

A tingle settles in the back of your neck, blossoming across your whole body as you look at him with your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Actually, I was thinkin’ that maybe we could keep tonight going. Maybe you could show me your place?” Eyebrows raised, you wait for his response as it slowly registers for him, an eager nod bobbing his head up and down.

“Yeah, yeah. Definitely. My place.”

Javier knows he drove as if he was in the streets of Colombia again; speeding when he could and on the edge of his seat, nerves fried from the excitement and adrenaline he felt.

But there isn’t a part of him that regrets it, opening the door to his apartment and letting you in ahead of him. You glance around the space, setting your bag down on the kitchen counter next to you as he walks up behind you after locking the door.

Hooking his arms around your waist, you turn around to face him, biting back you grin as he meets your eyes. Fingertips coast across your back, palms moving to your hips and tugging you to press against him.

“What d’ya think of the place, hm?”

“S’nice. But you haven’t given me a tour, wanna see your room.”

“Yeah? I’ll show you, bebita.” He smirks as he meets your lips with his in a heavy kiss, hands at your hips gripping tighter and starting to walk you backward. A muffled whimper parts your lips enough for him to lick into your mouth, both moaning as your tongues meld together. All the way back to his bedroom, he hasn’t taken his lips from yours. Crossing the threshold, he pulls his lips away, trailing heady kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

You stretch back and gasp with a sharp inhale as he bites at the base of your neck, nipping and soothing the marks with his tongue. A glance around his room proves you right from your guesses about how he keeps his space: minimal decoration, one or two photos strewn around, and warm wooden furniture with dark toned bedding and soft furnishings. It’s welcoming, but a bit sad that he doesn’t have much expression. The difference between his and your place is a bit astounding.

What will he think when he sees yours?

When he sees yours? God, no one has ever been to yours out of all your arrangements and with one night with him you’re going to already be calling him to come over.

It feels a bit out of your control at the moment, your imagination running wild with feelings that are tamped down inside. Something snaps back into place in your mind, closing that part off and begging you to get some control of the situation. Lacing your fingers in his hair, you pull him out from the crook of your neck, smirking at him and kissing him, leading with much more fervor than before.

He bends to your guide, letting you lead him back to his bed, sitting down at the edge when his knees hit the mattress. Pawing at your waist, hips, and grabbing handfuls of your ass, Javi groans against your lips and pulls away only enough to speak.

“Can I take this pretty dress off, angel?”

You nod, a soft ‘yes’ breathed out in response before the material is being pulled over your head and tossed to the side along with the small shrug cardigan you were wearing. Javi’s eyes drink in your body greedily, standing before him in some off-white lingerie. His tongue swipes along his bottom lip, hands moving of their own volition as they run over your curves and thighs, settling under the cups holding up your breasts.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, bebita. Did you wear this for me?” Hands squeeze your breasts over the lace, a whimper involuntarily sounding at the feeling of his hands on you.

“Yeah, yeah I did. Thought you would like it.”

“Mm, I love it, mi bebita. But I want to take this off of you, can I? I wanna see you, amante.” The band of your bra guides him around to your back, fingers tracing over the clasp.

“You have to take this off then.” You tug on his button up under the jacket he still has on, letting him unclasp your bra and slide it down your arms to discard where your dress ended up. Before he can make any move for your newly bare skin, you lift your arms and start to unbutton his shirt. Javi shrugs off his jacket while you work his buttons, grabbing you by the swell of your ass and pulling you down to straddle his denim covered bulge.

“God, babygirl, wanted you so bad. Y’know I couldn’t get my dirty thoughts about you out of my head, every single class,” his voice gets muffled as he nibbles at the crook of your neck again, making you giggle smugly.

“Is that right? What would you think about?” The last button slips through the hole, allowing you to push the fabric off of his shoulders and leaving it to fall back onto the bed. Your own hands roam across his sturdy, solid chest and broad shoulders, down to his soft tummy. Leaning in, your own lips work at his jaw, starting a slow roll of your hips against his hardness.

“Fuck…” he exhales before his head falls back, voice rumbling from his chest and coated with arousal, “Thought about—Thought about what kind of sounds you’d make for me, if you tasted as sweet as you act…Thought many, many times about what that mouth of yours would look like around my cock…”

Even his words cause you to whimper, chastising yourself internally for the hold he has on you. Peeling yourself away, you stand up in front of him, folding over to kiss him sweet and slow before you drop to your knees.

“I can show you what it looks like, Javi, if you want.”

No one else has made you ever feel like this, and it is terrifying.

And you’re going to whatever you can to disarm this feeling inside of you.

“Oh, hell yes — I mean, yes, please. Quiero verlo, por favor (I want to see it, please).” Javi can hear how desperate he sounds in the moment, aching for some relief and salivating over the view of you on your knees in front of him.

Inching closer, you spread his legs apart to settle between them. Featherlight kisses pressed against his thighs and up to his crotch, shuddering out a breath as your lips ghost along the outline of his cock. You rub your cheek against the bulge, whining to yourself before nimble fingers open his belt buckle, pop the button and drag the zipper down on his jeans. He helps you out by lifting his hips, your hands hooking together his jeans and briefs to tug them down to his ankles.

Javier kicks one of his ankles out, looking down at you, licking your lips and smiling up at him. His brain short circuits as he watches you move your head over his cock, dribbling saliva onto it before wrapping your hand around and starting slow, teasing strokes.

“Knew you were a pretty man, but you really are pretty everywhere,” he exhales sharply when your thumb circles the head of his cock, shaking his head at your devious smirk.

“Y’like it, bebita? S’all yours. Lemme feel that little mouth of yours.”

On the next downstroke you make, you flick your tongue against his tip before taking it in your mouth. He shudders out a quiet moan, keeping his eyes glued to you as you take a few more of his inches and swirl your tongue around him.

“You look even better than I imagined sucking my cock, angel. Fucking hell, babygirl, jus’like that.” He exhales content when you have most of him in your mouth, cheeks hollowed out. Your hand continues to work around the base of him, a rhythm being built with the bobbing of your head.

“Mm, such a good girl. Taking my cock so well, bebita, feels so good…” Javi’s hands itch to touch you, one running down the column of your throat before it snakes around to the nape of your neck. The other brushes baby hairs from your face, smirking down at you. “Think you can handle all of me, angel? Your mouth feels so fucking good, I want all of it. Want to feel me hit right here…”

His words are punctuated with the hand at your hair trailing down to your throat, gently running his thumb back and forth over the center of it.

“Can you take it? Be my good little slut?”

It’s not the first time you’ve been in this scenario and been called something of the sort, but it is definitely the first time that the words shoot straight to your cunt, flooding between your legs. A whimper is stifled around his cock and his eyebrow quirks, hand petting at the back of your neck.

“Does mi bebita like being called my little slut? Mi zorrita (My little slut)? Knew you were gonna be so good at sucking my cock when I first saw you in your little plaid skirt and that tight fucking t-shirt of yours. And with those glossy plush lips of yours. You wanted to get my attention didn’t you?”

In response, you hum and take him all, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat. You hold back a gag, tears filling your eyes as you breathe through your nose and dig your nails into his thighs.

“Oh, fuck yes! Fuck, fuck, yeah jus’like, angel. Oh, so good for me, bebita. So fucking good.” Javi’s hips jerk off the bed, pushing him further into your throat and hitting harder at the back of it. You really gag around him, the sensation causing a loud moan from him and his head rolling back. The hand at your neck clutches tighter, thrusts of his hips moving him subtly.

With a vice grip on his thighs, nearly drawing blood, he stills and you pull off for a breath. Heavy inhales and exhales fill your lungs with air as he pets your head while you stroke his cock covered in your spit.

“Y’okay, mi bebita?” When you nod and sigh out a tiny ‘yes’, he takes your chin between his fingers and tugs it open once your breathing is steadied. “You gonna keep being my perfect, sweet slut for me, angel? You’re such a good girl. Look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

“Mhm, I wanna make you come, Javi. Please.”

With a dark chuckle he nods, one hand stilling yours on his length and guiding it back to your open mouth, “G’head, bebita, be a good girl and make me come.”

Your need to please him clicks on, eagerly licking up the underside of him as you stroke him faster. Getting as close as you can, you take one of his balls in your mouth, rolling your tongue around before giving the same attention to the other and releasing it with a pop. Above you, Javi’s chest is moving quickly with deep breaths, some moans slipping out when it feels too good.

You take all of him again, swallowing around him and gagging, taking all the small thrusts he jerks out. Tears fall down your cheeks and he whispers praises in the same breaths as the filthiest things, all of it making the ache between your thighs worse.

Fuck him for making you so fucking turned on you’re going to have to fuck your vibrator when you get home.

“Mhm, yeah, good girl. Fuck, m’close, angel, keep going. Please, oh shit, yeah—”His own adlibs are interrupted by his loud, rumbling moan as he holds your head and starts to come. Ropes of his release fill your mouth, Javi gently pulling his cock out and you closing your mouth to keep it all in.

“Lemme see, bebita, wanna see you with my come in your mouth.” His voice is breathy as he recovers, jaw dropping slightly open in awe when you show him. Rolling it on your tongue he swipes the few beads that leaked out and sticks his thumb in between your lips. “Swallow.”

Following his orders, you swallow all of his spend, catching your breath when he pulls his thumb from your mouth. You pat his thighs and stand, taking one step to go put on your dress when his hand reaches out to stop you, holding your hip.

“Where d’you think you’re going?” His brows knit together, mouth tugged down at the corners. You look at him equally confused, turning toward him and point to your clothes.

“Getting dressed?”

“Why?”

“Cause you finished?”

“What?”

“What d’you mean ‘what’?”

“What d’you mean ‘cause you finished’?”

“I mean, thought we were done here. Unless you want me to stay until you can go again…?”

“Angel, respectfully, what the hell are you on about? Why the hell would I let you leave my fucking room, let alone my apartment and go home, and not have gotten the chance to even touch you?”

You stutter for a moment, taken aback by his adamant questioning. Never has this happened before with any of your other clients, normally getting them off with your mouth or by fucking them, but never did they want you to stick around for them to make you come.

“Bebita, beautiful, may I please taste you? Been dreaming about it for weeks…”

“Um, I do want you to but you don’t have to feel obligated. I mean normally it doesn’t happen—”

There’s that same flash of anger in his chest that he’s felt with you before, too jaded to be able to see what you’re really worth.

Fucking golden, that’s what you are. Any man who’s been with you, arranged or not, should be so fucking lucky to see you come undone.

“Okay, fuck whoever has made you feel like you don’t deserve that. I don’t feel obligated or anything of the sort, I want to. I’m begging, bebita, please, let me make you feel good.” His hands run up and down from your thighs to your hips, Javi looking up at you from his seat on the bed with those rounded, softened puppy eyes.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes, okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Javi, if you ask again, I will actually get dres—“

“No, nope, no. I’ll shut up, just c’mere.” His hands palm your ass, toying with the lace of your panties and moving you between his legs. Kisses are peppered on your abdomen, blowing his breath across your skin and raising goosebumps. His nose presses into your skin as he gently nips and sucks and soothes different spots; your fingers run through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead.

“Javi…”

“So soft, angel,” he hums, vibrations sent across your torso before he’s standing, turning you both around quickly and guiding you back onto the bed, “Lay back, bebita. M’gonna take care of you.”

There’s a stirring in your gut, nerves high as you scoot back on his mattress. Javi climbs over you, crowding you back against the duvet as he catches your lips with his. Heady kisses are exchanged, one of his large hands coming to your chest and squeezing gently before he pulls off of your mouth and latches his lips to your pebbled nipple.

A whimper cuts out in your throat, holding back as much as you can to stay quiet. Javi mirrors his actions on your other breast before scooting down your abdomen, littering kisses until he settles between your legs. Two of his fingers hook in your panties, pulling them off of you and tossing them aside. Awe fills his eyes as he spreads your folds, licking his lips hungrily.

“Made such a mess, angel. Fucking drenched for me. You were gonna leave all riled up like this, bebita?” His tongue tsks behind his teeth, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Such a good, perfect girl like you doesn’t deserve to have to take care of herself. That’s what I’m here for, cariño.”

Your response catches in your throat when his fingers rub circles into your clit, smirk raising on his face when your own contorts with pleasure. The heel of his palm takes over when his thick fingers tease your entrance, one slowly filling you up and thrusting in and out at a lazy pace.

More wetness pools between your legs, seeping from your cunt and allows Javi to add a second finger, the slight stretch making you wiggle below him. His eyes are glued to your pussy, mesmerized by the sight of his fingers fucking your tight hole, spreading and opening his fingers for a wide stretch.

Javi folds over, saliva coating his mouth as he dives for a taste of you, mouth attaching to your clit and sucking gently.

More whimpers leave your mouth involuntarily as pressure builds inside, Javi pulling away only to acknowledge your feelings.

“I know, bebita, I know. Gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

Obscene noises, lewd and wanton, fill the room as his fingers fuck into the wetness seeping out of your cunt. It’s all you can hear as you hold in your own noises, feeling like if you opened your mouth, his neighbors would think he was making a porno.

His attention is focused back on your pussy, thrusting his fingers into you a tiny bit faster and sucking your clit harder. Your hands clutch the top of his hair, tugging and pulling as he brings you to the edge, pathetically quickly to you, but it’s been a long time since someone else has touched you with such an attentive attitude.

A satisfied hum is felt against your folds, suckling noises filling the air as Javi attempts to drink all that you have to offer him.

“Taste so fucking good, angel. Like heaven.”

His mouth and fingers don’t leave you after the first one; the sight of you coming undone for him flipped something inside, and he is desperate to see it again. He moves faster this time, building off of what he’s already learned you like from him. Fingers hook against that spot inside of you, jerking your hips up off the bed as his tongue flicks over your clit, licking like a kitten lapping milk.

Still burning from your first orgasm, your hands tangled in his hair attempt to pull him away from your cunt, desperate for a break as new pressure, more intense than the first go-round, floods inside of you and makes every muscle ache. Javi grunts at your attempts, his free hand gathering both of your weakened wrists in one grip and pressing them into your lower abdomen. The press from both sides, hands on your stomach and fingers inside of you, adds to the tangible tension covering you.

His fingers and tongue swap, licking into your entrance and fucking you on his mouth with his nose nudging your clit. A finger teases your tighter hole, muscle contracting and breath caught in your throat as he repeats all of the motions over and over.

As your second orgasm builds inside of you, a tight coil winding around and around in your gut, you attempt to hold in your sounds. You think, because in the past it’s been all about your client’s pleasure, you need to stay quiet, letting Javi do whatever he wants to you without an interruption from you.

Attempting to stay quiet for him, you writhe under him, his grip on your wrists tightening as you try to lessen the stimulation from him between your legs. Pleasure blankets your body, tiny sobs wracking your body as you try to let your moans die in your throat. Javi feels the convulsions of your abdomen, hearing the little sounds from you and pulling his mouth away to look at you properly.

Brows furrowed, skin sheened with sweat and frustration evident in your expression and tension from the stimulation he’s giving you. The two fingers that were inside of you move up to press in between your lips, hooking his fingers behind your bottom teeth and opening your mouth.

“Oh, baby, feels good, yeah? Your body wants you to make some noise, huh? Moans, whimpers?” Your whines answer him enough, fingers still holding your mouth open. “Don’t hold back. Want you to be fucking loud for me, bebita. Wanna hear you. Hear those pretty sounds you make when you fall apart on my tongue.”

He slinks down your body again, replacing his fingers inside of you with his muscular tongue, fucking in and out of you at an agonizing pace. Slow, deliberate circles on your clit twists your insides tighter and tighter, unable to hold back your sounds anymore.

Whimpers lift your chest up and down shallowly, Javi’s name leaving your mouth like a prayer. Without your hands to hold him closer, you lift your hips and grind against your mouth, gasping at the vibration of his own moan against your cunt.

“Javi, oh my god, please. Need a little bit more, please.” You beg, wiggling under him and being pressed into the mattress by his hand gripping your wrists against your stomach.

The second time around comes much quicker, your push clenching around his tongue as you come, whining from the pleasure melting into your muscles.

“Fuck, Javi…” you say with a sigh, lifting up to look at him still between your legs. His fingers coast along your dripping folds, sensitivity jerking your hips and thighs as he smirks smugly at the sight. Greed fills his eyes when he meets your gaze, licking his lips as he kisses the curls on your mound.

“One more.”

“Javi, I don’t think—“

“One more, bebita, por favor. Please.”

His tongue swipes over your clit, gathering your wetness and swirling the muscle around the sensitive bundle of nerves. A kiss pressed there makes a whine leave your mouth, encouragement for him to start playing with your pussy again.

“You can do it for me, bebita. One more and that’s it.” Two of his fingers easily slip inside of you from your come coating your folds, a languid and lazy pace building up to something more steady as your whines and whimpers grow louder.

“Yeah, tell me about it, baby. How good does it feel?”

“So—so good. Can’t even, fuck, can’t even think straight.”

“Mm, such a good girl for me. Relax, bebita, I’m gonna take care of you again.”

The pace he built is plateaued to build your stimulation before he picks up more speed. His two fingers move quickly, hooking inside of you to press against that spot inside of you repeatedly. His tongue on your clit circles in sync, your mind solely on the sensations he’s providing you. The rest of your body is heavy from the two previous orgasms, unable to fight the overstimulation as he fucks his thick fingers into you at a delicious pace.

An overwhelming warm feeling drops to your pelvic area, feeling familiar and putting you on edge as you try to get him to release your hands to try to push his face away when Javi adds his tongue to your entrance with his fingers.

“Fuck, Javi! Stop I’m gonna — Oh my god, it feels different, feels like—like I’m gonna pee.”

His fingers continue as he pulls his mouth away to rumble out his words, coated in arousal.

“S’okay, bebita, just trust me. Relax, baby, let it happen.”

His voice is gentle and reassuring, skepticism still present as you focus on the pleasure again, burning hot in your torso. Your body relaxes again, his hand pressing your wrist into your lower stomach and fingers hitting the roughened spot inside of you while sobs wrack your body.

Pleasure blinds you as it finally overtakes, his name erupting from your chest in a moan. A warm, liquid feeling spreads across your body, feeling a much more intense release that makes you squeeze your eyes shut, flipping your hands over in Javi’s to hold him tightly.

Opening up your eyes again, you look down your body to Javi lifting his head from between your legs, damp across the lower half of his face and the same glistening on his neck. You wiggle again feeling a large wet spot under you and immediately feeling your stomach drop when you realize what happened.

“Mierda, bebita. So fucking sexy. Doing that for me the first time, m’gonna wanna be greedy and see you do it every time now.” You hide your face in your hands, shaking your head and feeling heat spread across your face and neck.

“I’ve never—” you barely manage to breathe out the two words, Javi leaning his head on your thigh as he stays mesmerized by the sight of your dripping cunt.

“Nuh uh, angel, don’t be shy. Fucking loved it.” He turns to press a kiss on your inner thigh, nuzzling his nose against the pillowy skin.

There’s no thoughts in your head, no words in your mind as you catch your breath following your last orgasm. Your chest heaves, quick inhales to fill your lungs and replenish the oxygen in your blood to get your brain started again.

Clarity spreads in your consciousness, hearing Javi’s voice from between your legs, “What do you say, bebita?”

Brows knit together, you move to sit up and support yourself on your hands, you sigh out as you look down at him. “Huh?”

“Where are your manners, angel? What do you say?” Awaiting your response, he punctuates his question with a swipe of his tongue over your ultra sensitive clit, making your thighs quiver and hips attempt to jerk away from his hold.

Attempting to follow his questioning, you take another second before timidly saying, “Thank you?”

“That’s my good girl.” His smirk grows as he climbs over you again, kissing you gently. A tender look filled with affection faces you, Javi gently running his fingers over your skin. Silence falls between you two before you’re nodding for him to stand, getting off of his bed and looking around for your underwear.

“Um, d’you wanna stay? You can if you’d like to. I mean, I’d like you to if you’re comfortable with it. Jus’thought you might wanna cause it’s late.”

You want to. You definitely want to.

But you shouldn’t. You can’t.

That’s a far more personal line, an intimacy of falling asleep with him and waking up in the morning that has your heart pumping but your mind yelling at you that this is still your job, no matter what feelings are involved.

“Oh, um, next time? I have so much to do in the morning and I have a feeling if I stayed, I probably wouldn’t go home until Monday.” You smile sweetly at him, stepping into your panties and grabbing your bra off the floor.

Javi chuckles and nods, stepping over to you and hooking his arms behind your back. “Probably right about that, angel.”

You give him a peck and reach behind you to clasp your bra, adjusting the straps to your shoulders. Javi steps away from you, grabbing his briefs and jeans, starting to gets dressed himself.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting dressed?”

“Why?”

“To drive you home?”

“You don’t have to do that. I can take the bus or a cab.”

“You’re not taking anything besides a ride in my car from me. S’late and I’m not letting you go home alone.”

“Really, Javi, you don’t have to drive me. I can manage.”

Why is he so stubborn?

You attempt to ignore the warmth his protectiveness is blanketing you in, shoving it all into the neat little box you’re attempting to keep everything Javi in.

He watches as you pick up your dress, sighing to himself and shaking his head as he finds himself wishing you would stay tonight. But if you aren’t staying, there’s no way in hell he was letting you walk out the door without him in tow to get you home safely. He wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight otherwise, but if he told you that, he thinks you’d be out the door before he could blink.

Why are you so stubborn?

“I know you can. I trust you, I don’t trust everyone else. Sorry, bebita, but m’not arguing with you.” He zips and buttons his jeans before reaching for a white t-shirt on the back of his desk chair and pulling it over his head as you put your dress back on along with your sweater.

“Okay, okay. You can drive me if it makes you feel better.” You finish fixing your clothes and start to head toward the front door to get your bag and shoes. Before you can leave his room, his arm blocks your way out of the doorway, you turning your head to face him.

“It would make me feel better. Thank you, baby.” He smiles subtly, trying to get a grin out of you and succeeding. Heartbeats run at the same speeds in your chests, unknowingly, as you take a moment to look into each other’s eyes. Within the next second, Javi kisses you one last time before dropping his arm and following you out of his room. Both of you get your shoes on, you grabbing your bag and heading out of his apartment and to his car.

The engine cuts in front of your building, Javi jumping out before you can say goodnight and circling around the hood of the car to open the passenger side door. He shuts it behind you and takes your hand, looking both ways before leading you across the street. Standing behind you, closest to the street, as you unlock the three flat’s front door, you take his hand this time, pulling him inside and up the stairs. At the second floor, you slow in front of your door and turn around to him, biting your bottom lip as he gives you a sleepy grin.

“Thank you for letting me bring you home safe. Now I might be able to sleep tonight,” he chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead, “And thank you for coming out with me tonight. Really enjoyed myself, bebita.”

“I enjoyed myself too, Javi. Thank you for tonight. Like, really, thank you.” You double down, the message received from the repeated ‘thanks’ that are insinuating your gratitude for how the two of you ended the night.

“My pleasure, angel.” He laughs with you, quietly as to not disturb your neighbors before he tugs you into his chest, tilting his chin in to kiss you sweetly.

You pout when he pulls away first, grinning when he pecks your pushed out lips.

“Goodnight, mi bebita. I’ll call you tomorrow? See how all the homework’s coming along?” He smirks as he taps your ass, unraveling from you to let you unlock your door.

“Night, Javi. Talk tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, angel. Sleep well.”

“You too.”

Stepping inside and closing the door behind you, both of you turn away on either side of the door; you head to your room and he heads back to his car, both replaying the night over and over again, having the same thought:

This is different from anything else before.

taglist (everything/javi): @northernbluess @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsquill @yazsos @cartoon-garbage04 @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel

#javier #writing #only angel #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #javier peña smut #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fanfic #javier peña fic #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fanfic

240 notes · View notes

scarsmood · 5 months

Text

Fleeing is fair

Why being a prey animal with no fight mechanisms is just as valid as predatory animals

I'm a little surprised i felt compelled to make this but I guess I shouldn't be. Adding to my herbivore essay collection I felt it was important for me to add that Flight, fawning and defense mechanisms are just as valid if not more so valuable in their own right than just standing your ground and fighting.

I think it's delightful some species of animals have spent millions of years getting so good at predator-prey conflicts they have evolved to simply make conflicts happen less if possible.

Life in general is not a hammer and nail situation. Fighting isn't always the answer sometimes leaving is a far better option. Camouflage, fleeing, flooding, schooling, and herds are all vital elements to some species survival that requires skill and tact and complete.

Trying to convince a predator your really not worth the effort is an artform that has taken place over centuries and millennia. It's also extremely popular and used in everyday life. When someone tries to start a conflict it can be easier to walk away or say something back that shuts them down. Something to convey to the other person "this really isn't worth your time. Im not playing a game"

I don't think these traits are often celebrated like hunting is because it is something that can't be glorified as easily in western culture. In other cultures I believe it is but since I live in america I don't see these traits being considered often despite being used so much.

The predator and prey cycle is a two organism game. Both of them need to outwit the other through any means they see fit. It's also a relationship prey will adapt specifically to some predators like the pronghorn for example. It's top speed is 55 mph which was used to outpace prehistoric cheetahs. Now it's overkill for things like mountain lions, wolves and coyotes.

For predatory animals I encourage to research your prey and learn your relationship with them. Take a moment to give thanks. Vice versa can be said to prey animals. Respecting the relationship of how you evolved and came to be in your habitat I feel is rather important.

I want to re-state again that other methods of survival are not weak. They are just as important.

#otherkin #therian #essay #herbivorekin #deerkin #preykin

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juneberrie · 1 year

Text

you always have been

thinking thoughts. *ೃ༄ this is very self indulgent im not sorry <3 btw the formatting is terrible 😭 also this is 1.5k words im so proud of myself its literally the longest fic i've ever written

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

fandom: outerbanks

warnings: swearing, mentions of being drunk, reader kind of pushes jj away, insecure!reader, stressed out!reader, mentions of jj's trash dad, fear of abandonment, sort of a smau? science hw (yes thats a warning science hw sucks), love confession, hurt/comfort <3

jj's instagram is a mess. it alternates between pictures of random objects, pictures of himself, and pictures of our friends.

lately, all of his pictures have been pictures of him and the pogues at keggers and on the boat. without me.

the most recent one is a blurry shot of him and kie at the boneyard. his hair is dripping wet and kie is holding up a red solo cup, beer sloshing over the side. the caption reads, "my brst girl 😋 ilysn kier.carrera" its so misspelled its obvious hes drunk, even without looking at the picture.

—————

↳ comments

-> jb.wifirouter ong your so drunk. ↳ heywpope its "youre" not "your" 💀 and you're durnk too ↳ sarahcamer0n lmaooo durnk

-> kier.carrera lol ilyt jj 💀 ↳ kier.carrera wsit wring emoji ❤️

—————

i groan and shut my phone off. kie knows i like jj. she's heard me rant about him since eighth grade. its fine, though. i need to focus on school. i get up and silence my phone, putting it into a drawer at my desk before going back to the papers sprawled on my bed.

science isn't my best subject, but i need this extra credit to bring my grade up. and, no pressure at all, this stupid extra credit is due by monday, at its literally sunday night. at least its pretty easy. all i have to do is write an essay about newton's laws and how they function in the "real" world. i sigh and open my textbook to the page on the first law, inertia.

as im scribbling down the beginnings of the paragraph about f=ma, my pencil breaks. well, how fucking dandy. i get up and head to my desk to grab a sharpener, and i pass the mirror next to my door.

i cringe away, then force myself to look back. the girl staring back at me is... not kie. not sarah. she's wearing a big oversized t-shirt she stole from jj and some shorts. her nail polish is chipped and her hair is practically crying for escape from the worn scrunchie.

i tear my gaze away and grab the sharpener. the clock on my desk reads 11:11 pm. i remember something kie said about making wishes at 11:11, so i think, why not give it a try? i squeeze my eyes shut and hope my wish gets to whatever magical star angel being is listening.

after i finish my essay, its 12:23 am. i grab my phone from the drawer and see a flurry of texts and instagram notifications assaulting my lock screen.

i ignore the texts — six from kie and eight from jj — and click open instagram.

my homepage is filled with pictures of the pogues at the kegger they're at. i can't help the pettiness that surges up inside me and i click on jj's most recent story, a video of him, kie, pope, john b, and sarah screaming the lyrics to bohemian rhapsody around a campfire.

—————

you replied to their story

yourinstagram looks like you're having fun :)

—————

i feel slightly terrible, but whatever. every single kegger they've been to this past week, i haven't been invited.

a text notification comes down onto my screen. it's from kie. the preview reads "im soo sorru"

what the hell? i immediately click on the text and i almost start crying.

—————

kie kie ml ♡

bro so dnt be mad but like i accidentally told jj that u liked him

im sorry

answer me please idont want yu to be mad

i dd;t mean to i swaer

y/n?? are you mad??

y/n pleeaas answre

im soo sorru

bro wtf.

ik im sorry but we were playing truuth or dsre and plpe asked if i had acrush on anybody and i sadi no i didn't but ik you did and the n jj asked who and im sorry :)

:(*** SORRY

whatever. go enjoy your kegger.

—————

what the everloving fuck. i specifically told her not to tell anyone, especially jj, and she goes and tells everyone and their mother. i've gotten a flurry of texts from pope, john b, sarah, and other pogues i suppose are at the kegger, all asking me if it's true i like jj. and, speak of the devil, jj himself has been texting me nonstop for the past thirty minutes.

—————

golden retriever lookin' mf 😋

haha kie jus told me the funnist shut

wait is she for real

wait n/n yuo like me

like fr fr?

brp answer me pls

y/nnnnnn

are you asleepo r somethinh 💀

y/n if you dpn't answer rn rn im going ovet to yiur house

—————

shit. jj can't come over right now. i look like a mess, and now im fucking crying. my gaze drifts back over to the mirror; my eyes are red and puffy and tears are streaming down my face and dripping down onto my (jj's) shirt.

—————

golden retriever lookin' mf 😋

jj please dont come over just stay at the kegger and have fun

nooo y/n im already on my wsy so its fine

—————

shit shit shit.

i throw my phone across the room and scream into my bedsheets. the pogues already didn't like me anymore; they had been going out and having fun without for weeks now, and now kie tells jj i like him? my life is fucking falling apart.

a knock at my window wakes me up from whatever sad haze i was trapped in for the last twenty minutes. jj's peering in and he smiles when he meets my gaze. i shake my head and turn away from him.

no bother letting him in, he'll probably just tell me that he doesn't like me back and to never talk to him again.

another knock, persistent, sounds from the window. i sigh and turn back.

i open the window but leave the screen up, so jj can hear me but he can't get in. "go away, j."

"nooo. wait, why are you cryiinggg?" he asks, the booze slurring his words.

"nothing. no reason. go away, please, jj," i say, my voice cracking.

his face softens and he seems to sober up a bit. "n/n, please tell me what's wrong. i hate seeing you sad," he whispers. fuck. i can't, i can't with the fucking blue eyes and the soft looks and the whispers. i open the rest of the window, and jj climbs in.

i crawl under the covers of my bed and face away from jj. i feel the bed dip next to me and he lays a warm hand on my back. its so casual, so domestic, that i want to laugh.

"sunshine, what's wrong? is this about what kie said?" he asks, gently rubbing my back.

the dam breaks. tears start flowing out of my eyes and i started shaking.

"it is about what kie said. i like you, jj, i really like you. no, i- i love you! i love you so much. i've loved you since i first saw you in mrs. williams' science class in eight grade and you laughed when she said that iron was discovered by the hittites. and i know you'll never love me back because— well— look at me! im not like kie, im not like sarah. i'm just... me! and i've been trying to pretend like you guys going to keggers everyday without me isn't a big deal because, hey, i'm swamped with school, even though its fucking intercession. and i knew if i told you, you'd hate me and you'd never talk to me again," i sob into my pillow.

jj is silent for a few seconds, still rubbing my back.

"i love you too, sunshine. i've loved you for the entirety of the time i've known you. and, you're right. you're not kie or sarah, but you're you. that's what i love about you. you are unapologetically yourself. and i'm sorry for not inviting you to the keggers. i just, i knew you were swamped and i know you don't really like parties 'nd drinking and shit. and i just want you to know that im so proud of you, honey, and— jesus, y/n. you're the only one for me. you always have been. you're the person who's been there whenever luke did something shitty to me, you've helped me with my homework, and gosh, dare i say it, you've helped me be a better person."

he chuckles. i feel him press a kiss to the back of my neck and gently bring me towards him so i'm basically in his lap. he wraps his arms around me and lays his head in the crook of my neck. we stay together in a comfortable silence for a few moments.

i sniffle. "i'm sorry, j."

"you're not the one who should be apologizing, sunshine. i love you, so much. i'm sorry if i made you feel like i'd never talk to you again or like you weren't enough; you are enough. you always have been."

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #obx #obx x reader #outerbanks #outerbanks x reader #jj obx #jj obx fic #outerbanks fanfiction #jj maybank hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #fluff #angst #[🧸] dear diary

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smigglescultture · 7 days

Text

(THIS IS SUPER CRAZY LONG BTW SRRY) I was thinking about it a lot last night and here's the thing:

I don't like random acts of violence. Obviously, I have some sort of fixation on mass shootings but typically I don't like people such as TJ Lane or Nikolas Cruz and especially Salvador Ramos. People who kill just for the thrill of it. I do not like them. That's why I do not like serial killers or their cases.

And look, I'm sure if I got into the nitty gritty of each case, I would understand the perpetrators more. In fact, I know by all angles I might look like Im a hardcore AL stan or whatever, but it never started like that. And still isn't. I think he was an incredibly smart, and funny boy who seriously could've become something in his life, but what he did was utterly disgusting and I will never be able to just put that past him, even if I do agree and maybe even look up to some aspects of him. I'm not a nihilist in the belief that everyone deserves to die. And especially not young children.

However, when it comes to Columbine specifically, its almost like every moral inside me is just pushed into the back of my mind. And maybe that's because I relate so deeply to these two assholes, or whatever, but I have to admit that I feel very guilty for the way I think about this case. And it wasnt an instant thing, I knew I felt eaten up with guilt from the second I joined this community.

It started with Zero Day, I made a tik tok account (DONT EVER DO THAT, TRUST) and suddenly I see all these people who at the time I considered freaks, have mass killers as profile pictures. I started to just block all of them, I used to repeat to myself how awful it was, replay in my head what those people did, and how their victims felt. It was like a compulsion to combat the obsession I was falling into which was the fact that, I was sickly interested in the whole thing. I dont even remember what kick started it, when I became what I considered a "degenerate", but, oh, did it happen.

I would be angry, furious, sick and disgusted with myself for even thinking of D&E. But the more you start to worry about the intrusive thoughts inside your head, the more they come. So the more swallowed up by guilt I felt. The more shame I was consumed by. I thought I had hit a rock fucking bottom. I remember the first time I ever saw that library picture of E&D, and I had never felt such shock and surprise in my life. I was so shocked at what I saw, I briefly mentioned (AND SHOWED?? DONT DO THIS BTW IM DUMB) it to my friends...and my parents. Who all just brushed it off, "yeah, theirs some sickos in the world". Which was easy for them to say, they weren't the ones becoming "sick".

All of that to say that, that picture was the nail on the coffin. The way I look at it now it was like I was on a rope desperately trying not to fall into the water, the community, but my arms couldn't take it anymore and I gave in. Slowly but surely those thoughts about E&D weren't painful and shocking to me anymore, I read Dylans journal and that was really a point of no return. I felt seen, the more I read it, the more time that has went on, it's like reading pages of my own life. I remember writing in my own journal that, even still I was ashamed for reading it, to relating to it.

I mean obviously, this fixation consumed me. I tried to put it into anything I could. Dinner table politics? Boom, mass shooting. My speech and debate script? Boom, mass shootings. My essay for school? Mass shooting. Art work for school? Mass shootings. And none of this has gone away or even flickered, and most times I'm completely okay with that.

But I am sometimes still constantly shameful. I think to myself, "if there ever is a mass shooting, you will sacrifice yourself first to repent for your little obsession" Even though I've lived in America all of my life, I have now become so obsessed about thinking where a shooter could be, especially at school. Not paying attention? Im probably thinking of a way to escape a shooting. Not just casually either, like, vivid imagery type shit. The worst part is that me and my brother go to the same school. I still feel guilty about my "fixation" with guns and mass shootings. I fear that as punishment for this, he would be the one to die in a shooting, not me. And he's my world, he's my best friend, he's the one who told me to stay away from here, and he's the one who still loves me anyway.

That's why I stray away from info posts about the Columbine victims. You'd think maybe it would be some compulsion to make up for my constant thinking of the killers, to learn about the killed, but no. It makes me feel even worse. I do care about those kids. I think it was a tragedy. Nobody should've died, they were all victim's to life and America and God himself maybe.

But what breaks my heart the most, the thing I will never get out of my head, is that one of the boys who died that day, shares a name with my brother. The first time I ever learned that, (which I do hold strong opinions about why certain victims get more "fame" and why that pisses me the hell off, but different post) I could've just fucking puked. I don't want to outright say his name because god forbid my brother ever stumble onto tumblr, but the reason why they killed him, the awful things they said, it makes me so angry. That poor fucking kid, he didn't do anything, nothing, not even indirectly. It makes you forget the empathy you held for E&D cause why would they have said those things or done that. They knew damn well he would've never, ever, not once, been someone who caused them pain. But this isn't a deep dive into why they did this shit.

All of this to say, I really hope you don't see me as just another edgelord, alpha male (yeah right, sure that was going through all your heads) "kill em all" kind of dude. Yeah, I don't care for humanity. Yeah, I am obsessed with gun violence. And no, I don't focus much on victims online. I relate too much to two goons who thought that everyone was against them. That's why I repost so much about them, cause I see them in me more than anything else. I do not "like" random acts of violence, I just like the comfort of knowing I'm not so out of my mind.

#wow sorry for the book I just released #i really appreciate it if you read all that #someone sedate smiggles

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aimasup · 1 year

Text

I can't do this anymore I have to get this out now

Welcome Home but if they were students in like middle school, human or puppet idk

long post warning

Poppy Partridge

she's the class monitor alongside Howdy and a very good one because she cares so much. Almost too much

more stressed about collecting the homework and class fees than the teachers

takes lab rules verrrrry seriously but you could not pay her to even stand next to a bunsen burner

favourite subject is Physics, oddly enough. Knowing how all these unpredictable accidents can be put into numbers gives her some kind of peace.

If something isn't explicitly stated in the instructions she'll wonder if she's missing something in between the lines

she gets made fun of for her troubles :(

Sally Starlet

Keeps getting into the principal's office

Has skipped school so many times and her grades are barely passing

If she's called up and doesn't know the answer she will make one

Is actually the president of a couple clubs and very enthusiastic during cocurricular activities, also a competent leader

Volunteers for so many activities and events. Not for credit, for fun

Rules announced at school talks because of her: No feather duster lightsaber battles, no standing on tables and starting impromptu sing-alongs, no 'grand car tire roly poly racing' down the halls, no broom twirling, no white balloons, etc.

identifies as Poppy's weekly heart attack

Eddie Dear

Exchange student! The mystery is from where. Most people think he's avoiding the answer

Isn't a leader in anything but has gained a reputation for being such a reliable stand-up guy whose flaws are more forgivable

He's a prefect who gets called out of class more than anyone to help with something

He's always so happy to help but then he gets even more late or tired, and his grades are falling behind

If you asked him to share his lunch money he'd gladly do it. with hesitance.

needs better boundaries

Julie Joyful

School's beloved. The kind of student who gets immediate applause when they perform or receive an award during an assembly

Started her own gardening club, grades are in the top few, an optimism that's as baffling as it is infectious

Sneaks gum and random toys into class, somehow manages to style her uniform in a unique way every other week

"psst can I copy your homework? I'll do your nails"

Can make any old cleaning task fun

Best and favourite subject is physical education, which includes games, gym, health, etc. Basically hands-on learning because she gets bored sitting still too long

Has a competitive side that gets wild if left unchecked

Frank Frankly

Number one in grades, always was, always will be

He's organizational, not lawful. Doesn't mind climbing over a fence or two in the name of education

His desk is almost unreal to look at it's so clean. Thinks of ways to solve a task so efficiently you'd think he's aiming to be class monitor (he is)

Though he intimidates people they often ask for study tips. His handwriting is an actual font and his diagrams look printed

Favourite subject is Biology but you wouldn't know because he excels at all of them

Also a prefect. He met Eddie during the orientation

During free time if he's not studying or doing homework exercises, he's sketching or letting Eddie and Julie gather at his table to chat

*raises hand* "uUhm teacher you forgot to assign homewo-"

Barnaby B. Beagle

If Julie gets candy into class he's somehow having whole dinners at the back. There's a rumour his bag can carry a microwave

He makes jokes during class, he balances stationary on his nose, he calls the teachers dude, his uniform is messy, but he's so chill and sweet that he's comfortable to be around real quick

Never pays attention during class. If he's not sleeping he's poking holes in his eraser with a pencil or something

yet he keeps getting decent grades. Teachers do NOT like him but popular among students

Best subject is English, but not everyone appreciates his poetry and essays unfortunately

Wally Darling

There's being well-liked and then there's 'most crushes accumulated school-wide'. It's no wonder because of how nice and helpful he is

Often told he has so much potential and that he's a model student. Basically teacher's pet

He's apparently known as so kind and sweet and gentle and perfect and cute but his friends know he's just a silly sleepy guy

You either love him or hate him, no in between

Best subject is art, his paintings are often posted around the school and he's done a few wall projects

Focuses verrry well in class! Appears so anyways. Head's always in the clouds, such a daydreamer

Also, certain unexplainables noticed about him. Brings one shiny apple every day but doesn't eat it. Leaves school, yes, but how does he get home? He's always the first one in class too, before Poppy. Somehow has all the latest gossip, but he'd never spill a friend's secret :)

Howdy Pillar

Class monitor, next to Poppy. He's just a handy dude

Helps out in the school cooperative selling items, most responsible out of everyone because he can keep a level head for tasks

Doesn't stand out much, originally just wanted to get through the semesters and get the business experience but soon became a social butterfly

Jarringly cheerful under all the work he takes upon himself. His organizational skills rival Frank's. No one knows how he does it

If someone can't afford to pay for something he helps them out in a way that doesn't technically break any rules

Is also the reason their class alone is cleaner than anyone else's. Poppy is the reason no one's dead

#welcome home #my post #headcanons #long post #julie joyful #sally starlet #poppy partridge #howdy pillar #eddie dear #wally darling #barnaby b beagle #frank frankly #welcome home puppet show

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theemporium · 1 year

Note

Can you write something where reader is overworked and Steve finds her asleep among the books? Idk just seemed cute...

this is the most self-projecting thing i have ever written bwdjkdjbewkb ANYWAYS

It was a lot.

You always knew it would be a lot but this was just beyond anything you had ever expected, or maybe you just weren’t prepared for it. Maybe you weren’t cut out for college and all the assignments and classes and work. Maybe you were in over your head.

You knew pretty early on you wanted to go to college. You wanted to be the first person in your family to go into further education. You wanted a degree with your name and achievements on it. It was all you had ever really expected from yourself.

You set the standard and now you were struggling to meet it.

The jump from high school to college was no joke but you thought you were coping. And for a while, you were. You were staying on top of assignments, you had a planner to help you remember classes and deadlines, and you were balancing a social life pretty damn well.

But then you missed a class.

And then you missed two.

And the next thing you knew, you were drowning in essays and presentations and modules and you couldn’t take it. You could barely handle the limited social interactions that attending class required alone, let alone everything else on top.

But you were stubborn and you didn’t want to burden anyone, and you kept it all in. You put a smile on your face, gave your cookie-cutter answers when someone asked how college was going and only allowed yourself to break down behind closed doors.

Steve knew you better than you knew yourself, and he knew just how much pressure you put on yourself.

He could see it on your face as the weeks went by, the way you would dissociate in large groups of people or the way you would always be picking at your nail beds when you were away from your books too long, like it was killing you inside to be wasting time anywhere but your desk.

But he was a patient man, and he cared about you a lot so he waited. He waited for you to say something. He waited for you to open up to him.

You never did, though. And he had a pretty good idea why.

It broke his heart to see the girl he loved slowly kill herself with stress and anxiety, and it killed him to know he couldn’t do anything beyond reminding you to eat three meals a day and stay hydrated.

He hated that you couldn’t see the girl he saw. When you saw flaws and mistakes, he just saw you.

You, as a whole. You, as one of the most determined people he has ever met. You, as the girl who was worth so much more than she assumed.

It was how he found himself at your doorstep, fist raised to knock on the door as he waited for you to answer. Thursdays had always been your date night—both because it was the one day you didn’t have any classes and Steve’s guaranteed day off from Family Video after cutting a deal with Robin.

When you didn’t answer after a minute, Steve was worried.

When you didn’t answer after five minutes, Steve was really concerned.

It barely broke into the sixth minute before he was using his spare key and letting himself in.

But the thumping of his racing heart quickly calmed down when he burst through the door as saw your head laid on the desk, a variety of open books scattered across the surface and a pen laying next to your now limp hand.

He paused, a soft smile on his face as he took in the sight of how peaceful you looked. No worry lines or furrowed brows, no biting your lips or chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Just you finally catching a break.

And then his heart twinged with guilt and concern when he realised this was probably the first break you gave yourself, and it wasn’t willingly. You had probably exhausted yourself—Steve knew how unreliable your sleep schedule was when you were stressed—and he hated that it reached the point of you passing out on your books to get you to take a break.

As softly as he could, he shrugged off his jacket and shoes before he made his way over to you, knowing he hated that he had to wake you up but hated even more the idea of you sleeping in such an awkward position and hurting your back.

“Sweetheart,” he called out softly, his thumb gently pushing some hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. “C’mon, baby.”

You let out a small whine, your nose scrunching up.

“I know, baby, I know,” he cooed softly as his thumb skimmed across your cheek in slow strokes.

“Steve?” you murmured, still half-asleep and almost convinced you had conjured an image of your boyfriend.

“I’m sorry for waking you up, pretty girl,” he spoke just above a whisper, his eyes taking in the sight of the bags under your eyes and his guilt grew tenfold. “Oh baby, when was the last time you slept?”

Your head still felt a little fuzzy as you sat up in your chair, eyebrows furrowed together as you tried to grasp the reality of the world around you. “Uh, Sunday?”

Steve frowned. “Baby, what day do you think it is?”

“Monday?”

Steve’s face softened immediately and the boy wasted no time in taking your face in his hands, a soft kiss pressed on your forehead that made you close your eyes to enjoy the embrace.

“C’mon, we are getting you to bed,” he whispered against your skin, and almost instantly he felt your body tense. He knew exactly where this was going, the words that were about to leave your lips and he refused to let you push yourself any further than you already had.

“Steve–”

“Nope, come on now,” he said as he pulled you up from your seat, his hands wrapping around your body and holding you close to him before you could wiggle out of his grasp. “It’s my week to choose a date and I am choosing a nap.”

Your face fell and he could see the guilt in your eyes. “It’s Thursday?”

“Yeah, baby,” he murmured softly, one hand catching your face before you could turn away. “Hey, listen, it’s okay. We all forget sometimes.”

“I just—” you let out a staggered breath. “I was working on my assignment for that stupid history class and then I forgot I had a presentation in my Spanish class and I swore it was only Tuesday, at least and—”

“Hey, baby, breathe f’me,” he murmured as he held your face in his hands. “It’s okay, I get it. I do. But baby, you gotta give yourself a break or you’re gonna kill yourself.”

You sighed, leaning into his touch. “Steve, I can’t—”

“You can and you will,” Steve stated and gave you a firm look. “This isn't doing you any good. You need to rest that big brain of yours.”

Your lips twitched upwards. “I just don’t know how to handle it all.”

“We’ll work it out together, okay? After a nap though,” he murmured and pressed another kiss to the top of your head. “I miss sleeping with my pretty girl in my arms.”

He was thoroughly amused to see the way your cheeks burned up at his words.

“Yeah, I guess I missed your hugs too.”

“Damn right you did,” Steve grinned proudly. “I’m your best pillow.”

You let out a small snort, the sound soothing something in his chest that didn’t make him feel like a fist was clenching his heart.

“We can even order from that Mexican place in town when we wake up.”

“Really?”

“Really, now get that cute ass on the bed now, baby.”

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington one shot #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot

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noirvette · 1 year

Text

kyle! comforting reader dealing w/ academic stress!!

another headcanons and scenario!!

so sorry for this being a couple days since u requested anon, i hope you're doing wonderfully <3 all the best to u!!

cws: none!

Kyle gets this a lot, he has a lot of pressure that he puts on himself to maintain high grades, a social life, and to do good in basketball. His parents don't help either with this.

He 100% gets you when you start getting stressed out and panicked over grades or even stressed out on maintaining a certain grade.

If you're stressed over upcoming things to turn in, he helps you organize by importance and then by date. What homework assignment is the most important to due and when is it due, is there an essay? How many minutes a day should you spend on that essay and/or how many paragraphs should you do in a day. That sort of thing.

If you're stressed by a recent drop in a grade, he'll help you figure out ways to improve your grade, even if that means typing an email to your teacher for you by asking for any offers of extra credit.

He'll even help you figure out what grade percent you need to get on your next exam to help boost your grade back up.

He then'll help you study for that exam or test.

He loves to help you study, not only does he get to hang out with you, he gets to help you.

It's a two birds one stone situation for him to be able to help you and spend quality time.

If you come to him upset, his first instinct is to just hold you and rub your back as you explain the situation to him. He'll offer to make you tea or coffee, (or even get water if neither of the other options are for you) in hopes of helping you calm down.

He's a bit awkward on the whole just purely listening to you, Kyle's logical, and finds it easier to give you solutions to help fix your problems. (He'll get better at just listening if you remind him about that, he'll still prefer to give solutions though).

Which, because he's logical, wants to absolutely help you if you need or want him too. He hates seeing you stressed over things.

Knocking at Kyle's front door, you pick at your nails, waiting for Kyle to let you in. As he opens the door, you briskly walk past him towards his living room and he immediately senses your distress.

"Y/n? Are you okay? What's wrong?" Kyle asks, closing the door shut and following you as you sit on his couch.

"It's.. it's my grades in physics and history. We have a project coming up in history and I just don't get physics at ALL and my grade recently dropped and now I'm near failing. I can't focus in on history and midterms made my grade update and my gpa is so low, Kyle what do I do?!" You stand up abruptly, pacing back and forth, the stress of school causing your emotions to boil over at an all time high.

You feel like crying, you are crying actually and Kyle gently wraps his arms around your shoulders, before his hands start rubbing circles in between your shoulder blades.

"Oh hon, it's okay. Shh, how about I help you with physics. I can tutor you and help you with that class starting tomorrow?" He squeezes you a bit, rocking you back in forth slightly.

He feels you nod against him and he kisses the top of your head, "perfect, you relax right now, I'll get you something to drink. The history project isn't due for a couple more weeks so let's focus on physics for right now. I'll help you with your project too if you need, okay?"

Afraid to verbally respond in case you cry even more, you just nod again. Kyle guides you to sit on the couch, "let's just watch some tv baby, I'll go get us some blankets and drinks."

#kyle broflovski #south park #kyle broflovski x reader #south park x reader #kyle broflovski headcanons #south park headcanons

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xoxo-sarah · 9 months

Text

I Wanna Be Yours || Part 5

Part 4 | part 6

↝a/n: I don't want to hear a single thing about the French being wrong. I had to use Google so blame it. Anyway, sorry this is late, been very busy and been stressing.

↝pairing: Robin Buckley x fem!Wheeler!reader

↝ Warning: not proofread. Possible spoilers, Canon events, Google translated French, pinning

↝⎙ 8.12.23

Robin couldn't help but admire you as you caught your breath.

Writing a decent essay in French wasn't going to be easy, which is why this is the 3rd day in a row Robin had invited you over after school to finish the partnered project.

To be honest, the essay was long forgotten. You two were just going through phrases in French at this point. Well, Robin was teaching you more French. You just couldn't wrap your head around it, no matter how hard you tried.

After you were paying so much attention to her mouth and the way it moved, you couldn't help but find it so hilarious, and in turn, Robin began laughing too.

It was probably around 9 by now, and you two had barely any of the paper done, but you kept wanting to hear her talk. For educational purposes, obviously.

"tu es belle." (you're beautiful) Robin wasn't worried about you knowing what she was saying. It honestly felt freeing to be able to admit thing openly, with you not knowing what it was she was saying.

She adored how you looked at her so confused, with your eyebrows furrowed. Her hand was practically shaking from not being able to lean forward and wipe the wrinkled skin away.

"tu es magnifique aujourd'hui" (you look beautiful today) She kept teasing you.

"Are you going to tell me what you're saying?"

"No, i don't think i will."

You smiled, basking in how comfortable you felt around her at that moment. You wish it could stay like this. Neither of you broke eye contact as she continued, "Tes yeux brillent si joliment aujourd'hui. Le ciel nocturne devrait être jaloux." (Your eyes are shining so beautifully today. The night sky should be jealous.)

"I should probably pay more attention in class." You chuckled, looking down at your lap, fiddling with the cover of the notebook. Robin was back to admiring you and your blushing cheeks.

"You're cute." Robin's smile dropped; her whole being scared of what she just said... out loud...to the person she'd fancied for what felt like forever. She wanted to disappear right then and there.

"What?" You glanced up from your notebook, still smiling- as if you hadn't heard what she had said.

"I said you look like a fruit." Pushing away the feeling of wanting to kick herself for her stupidity on the situation, the choice of words had her internally spiraling. What kind of answer was that? You certainly do not look anything like a fruit.

"That doesn't even make sense."

"Well I'm sleep deprived." She pulled her blanket closer to her, wrapping it around her body to find any comfort. "And it's tu ressembles à un fruit."

After a moment, you nodded, before standing up and gathering your stuff. "It's getting late."

"Yeah-yeah, uh," She flung the blanket off, standing to help you gather everything sprawled across her bed and floor. "I guess we lost track of time."

"Yeah." Flinging your backback over your shoulder, you pointed at her door. "I can show myself out. You need to be getting ready for bed- wouldn't want to keep you up any later."

"A-alright. yeah, bye. be careful." She stayed standing in that spot even after you closed her bedroom door.

She was not sleeping tonight; she already knew that much. She'd stay up all night thinking about you. And how you looked when you smiled or laughed. A joyous sight and sound, really.

•••••

Your leg shook from nerves. "Can you stop? You're shaking the car."

Nancy glared at you from the rearview mirror.

Digging your nails into your thigh, you stopped them from shaking anymore. "Sorry."

Robin glanced back, noting your nervousness. "It's going to be okay." Her voice was barely over a whisper.

"What if it's not? Two of our friends have already died because of this Vecna creep. We have no way to contact Mike or any of the Byers. What if something is happening up there too? I mean, they should've called by now. Mike promised he would call when he got up there-"

"We haven't been home, y/n."

"I was! He didn't call all of yesterday."

"He's having fun with his friend and girlfriend. Calm down."

Robin's eyes went back and forth between you and Nance. You were usually calm, or made it seem that way. Ever since you woke up in a frenzy, you had seemed on edge.

"What if he's not?" You whispered one last time, as Nancy pulled up to the school.

"We don't have time to think about that right now. Come on."

"It was here. Right here." Max was almost hysterical as she kept repeating the same thing over and over since you ran into the school. She kept talking about a grandfather clock in the wall.

If you were anyone else, you would be calling her crazy, maybe even making a phone call to the nearest psych ward.

"A grandfather clock?" Nancy almost seemed bored as she asked.

"It was so real and then, when i got closer, suddenly I just...I woke up."

"It was like she was in a trance or something." Dusting spoke, "Exactly like Eddie said happened to Chrissy." A cold hill went down your spine, causing goosebump to make your arm hair stand up. Folding your arms over your chest, you continued to pay attention.

Max turned around. "That's not even the bad part."

"Fred and Chrissy, they both came to Miss Kelley for help." You looked at the files on the desk. "Uh, they both were having headaches- bad headaches that wouldn't go away. And then- then the nightmares. Trouble sleeping. They'd wake up in a cold sweat. And then they started seeing things. Bad things...from their past." The desk lowly creaked as you leaned against it, giving Max your full attention. "And these visions-- they just kept getting worse and worse, until eventually...everything ended." Your eyes shot down to the ground.

What were you to do about all of this? This is too much for this group that consisted of teens and young adults. Before, you had El. But now, she was in California, without any powers.

Robin's voice broke you out of your thoughts that were running a mile a second. "Vecna's curse."

"Chrissy's headache started a week ago."

"She kept asking for medicine almost every time I saw her." She had taken nearly 2/3 of your medicine on your side table.

"Fred's started 6 days ago." The blood from you biting your lip tasted salty and like metal. "I've been having them for 5 days."

The air in the room became stale, almost like the air fell flat. "I don't know how long i have. All i know is that, for Fred and Chrissy, they both died less than 24 hours after their first vision. And i just saw that goddamn clock, so," Max's breath became uneven, "Looks like I'm gonna die tomorrow."

A loud click made you jump and turned to where the sound came from.

"Stay here." Steve looked at you guys, before walking towards the door. Before he opened it, he grabbed the lamp.

Not listening, you all stood and walked after him, through the dark school halls.

You could hear his uneven breathing from where you were. Or maybe that was you. You couldn't really tell at this point.

The sound continued as you walked behind Steve. It clattered, almost sounding like rapid running.

It grew louder until something came around the corner. Everyone screamed, Steve held the lamp up, going to strike, as your arms went up in the air, flashlight clattering to the floor as you turned on your heels, going to grab the nearest person. no matter how much you tried to move, your feet stayed in place, causing you to double over and fall onto your knees, bringing the person with you.

"It's me!"

"Lucas?!"

"It's me!" Lucas looked as if he was about to cry. You would too if you had nearly gotten beaten to death by a lamp.

"Holy shit!" You fell back onto your butt, facing the scene.

"Jesus!" Steve yelled, bringing the lamp back down to his side. "What is wrong with you, Sinclair?!"

Lucas tried to catch his breath with his hands on his hips, nearly doubling over. "I'm sorry."

Robin, who you had taken down with you, stood and held her hand out to help you up. You held up your finger, "I need a second." You might've peed yourself a little.

"I could've taken you out with this lamp!" Steve shook the lamp in his grip, furious.

"Sorry, guys." Lucas continued to pant, "Sorry. I was...I was biking for eight miles."

Grabbing Robin's hand, you let her pull you up.

"Give me a second. Shit." Lucas continued to pant through his words, "We've got a code red."

"What?"

"Dustin," He walked forward, "I've been with Jason, Patrick, and Andy, and they've gone, like, totally off the rails. They're trying to capture Eddie, and they think you know where he is." He spoke as fast as he could while also trying to breath. "You're in terrible danger."

"Alright. Yeah, that definitely sucks, but we've got bigger problems than Jason right now." Dustin looked back and Max, Lucas following him.

After Nancy and Robin came up with the plan about being Ruth and Rose, your leg went back to shaking and your teeth went back to biting into your lip, taking chunks out.

While everyone was getting a little bit of shut eye last night, you were wide awake. There wasn't really a thought that took up more space in your head than the other 10 thousand. Every time you tried to shut your eyes, Chrissy's face was painted on the back of your eyelids. Sometimes, you could hear her screams when you tried to tune out Steve's snoring. Max hadn't gone to bed, she stayed sitting at the desk, writing. What, you hadn't gotten a clue.

Right now, Steve was following Nancy after he had been stuck on babysitting duty yet again.

"Nancy, you're outta your mind if you think I'm babysitting again." Coming out of your room, you pulled the new, clean clothes closer to your body and walked after him into her room.

"Okay, first of all, they're not babies anymore. And Max is in real danger."

Steve scoffed at her as you plopped on her bed, wrinkling her made bed.

"She needs people around her."

"I know. But why does it always have to be me?"

"Y/n is here too." Nancy reminded, pointing at you.

"Oh my god, you have a Tom Cruise poster." Robin walked into the room, going staight for the poster and side table. "You have a Tom Cruise poster." She turned and smirked at Nancy, who was going through her closet.

"Thats...old.. It's just.."

Robin laughed before digging into the table,

"Can you please not touch anything?"

You leaned over, looking at whatever Robin was going through.

"I just- i can't do anything here, Nance. Maybe i can be helpful with this asylum director dude. I dunno. I could turn on my...my charm."

"Not the charm we need."

"Ouch."

"No, i just," Nancy sighed, stepping away from the closet. You followed Robin with your eyes as she stood and moved to the dresser. "I did a little digging last night, and it turns out this Dr. Hatch is a distinguished fellow of the American Psychiatric Association and a Harvard visiting scholar, okay? This is a life long student of the world. If we're going to win him over, we're gonna have to convince him we are too."

Robin opened the music box that laid on top of the dresser, music softly played as Nancy continued to talk, softening the blow. "That, like him, we are true academic scholars."

"Holy shit." Robin whispered, turning around to show the music box. "There's a little ballerina in here." She bit her lip.

Looking away, you tried to hide the pink on your cheeks. She was so cute.

Steve began nodding his head, turning back to Nancy. "Academic scholar. She's giving you an academic scholar vibe? Yeah."

Rolling her eyes, Robin closed the box, putting it back.

"No, but..." Robin scoffed, turning around. "She will."

Nance held up a pink dress.

"Oh, please tell me that you're joking."

"They're not answering."

Sighing, you slammed the phone back into the wall.

"They're probably out."

"You said that for the last 4 calls. It's been over an hour."

Dustin walked over, "Y/n, Mike is probably out having fun with El and Will. Please, calm down."

"Yeah," Sighing again, you plopped back into the couch, "Yeah, you're probably right."

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 1 year

Text

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet

Chapter Eighteen: Introductions Made

Summary- 3.9k Curtis Everett x Plus!Sized Reader. You and Claude might be playing matchmaker. When they do take an interest, Curtis suddenly finds himself with more time on his hands.

Warnings- Phone sex and discussing the use of toys.

A/N- As always, Thank you all so much for reading and sharing this little series. I appreciate whenever I get to hear what anyone is thinking about these two and how they navigate a building relationship. Thank you @what-is-your-plan-today for taking the time to beta this project for me. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics

Chapter Seventeen / Masterlist

You pondered at Curtis’s kitchen table, papers scattered all around, your reading glasses half slid down your nose as you leaned over with a pen poised in your hand, glancing over essays. Or that is what you were supposed to be doing. But, you had something more important distracting you.

Claude happened to bring up the newest addition to the middle school team, Yona. In particular how sweet, smart, funny, and kind the soft-spoken teacher’s aide was and how she thought that there was someone you both knew who would probably really like getting to know her- Edgar.

Things between you and Edgar had changed, immensely after that Halloween party, for the better. You two had gotten to actually know one another now that you were a frequent member at Paulie’s for game nights. Yes, he could be hot-headed and run his mouth too far as he proved at your party. But, he also grew a pair and came out to apologize with sincerity, that you were sure of. Now the man would give you the shirt off his back if he thought you needed it. He also proved himself to be funny and caring, a bit shy whenever complimented. You were rather fond of the man now.

Yona was much more of an observer and tended to be more cautious with things. Claude thought this would be a moment where perhaps opposites attract. Now that Claude put that thought in your head, it wouldn’t stop rolling around up there.

“How’re the papers going?” Curtis questioned from behind you, startling you a moment to glance over your shoulder to see him coming in from the garage. His hands were covered in what looked like car oil. “Can you get the sink for me so I don’t touch anything?”

“Slow… slower than I like.” You answered his question as you went to turn on the hot water and go under the sink to find the special mechanics degreaser soap.

“What are the papers about this time?” He had you pump several squirts of the soap in his hands before he started to scrub at them.

“The winter ecosystem and hibernation of local wildlife.” You went back to the table to sit back down. “Simple enough, but… I need your thoughts on an entirely different matter.”

“Shoot.” Curtis scrubbed at his nails with a brush before he was satisfied that they were clean once more. Cleaning up around the sink, he turned to dry his hands on a hand towel.

“Edgar ever have any serious girlfriends?”

“Edgar? Um- not for a hell of a long time.” Curtis pondered, trying to remember his last serious girlfriend. “At least for a couple years. He was with one girl, but she moved away. He has had dates, but never anyone he was serious about. Why?”

“Well, there is this woman who started just before Christmas named Yona. She just moved here, really sweet and kind woman. I was gonna mention to Claude about maybe inviting her to Paulie’s, and see if she wants to join in on one of our game nights.”

Curtis listened closely while settling in the chair across from you. “If you think she would like to hang with us Honey, invite her. I know Edgar showed his ass back at Halloween, but if you trust him, he would probably love to meet Yona. I know he misses having someone, you know?”

“I picked up on that.” You plucked your pen back up to start working on the papers once more, only having a couple more to go. “He did say he was jealous of you before.”

“Well…” Curtis moved to a stand, sliding his hand under your chin to tilt your head back to look up at him. “I would be jealous too if I let you get away from me.”

You rolled your eyes at him playfully, but couldn't hold back the way it made you grin all proud as he dropped a kiss to you. “Good thing you saw me first?”

“Remind me to thank Gilliam for that. You almost done?”

“Just a couple more, I just gotta focus.” You blinked up at him.

“Okay, let’s go out to dinner tonight when you’re done.” Another nipping kiss had you pushing your hand lightly against his chest.

“You gotta let me finish then, stop being a distraction, Curtis.” He caught one more protesting kiss before backing up with his hands in the air in surrender.

“Fine, fine. Come find me when you are ready.” He grinned while retreating into the living room, you waited a few seconds before leaning forward in your chair, looking around the corner to see him grabbing a book and settling in the recliner he preferred to read in while waiting for you.

“I promise you will have a good time,” Claude assured Yona while you went up the stairs to Paulie’s and held open the door. You two had managed to coax Yona to come to game night to meet the guys. It took a little convincing but she relented when you and Claude both offered up rounds of beers. Somehow the guys made out on this deal too.

Yona followed you up the stairs and stepped inside, glancing around. “Looks like a grungy sports bar with cold beers and greasy food.” You nodded since she basically nailed Paulie’s on the head. “I already love it.”

“Did Y/N tell you about her first trip here?” Claude smirked as she stepped in behind Yona and you let the door shut behind you.

“Met your boyfriend here, didn’t you?” Yona inquired and you shrugged.

“Actually I met him on a school trip, but we did run into each other again here and had a fun night. “ You glanced around, looking for Curtis, Edgar or Gray. “According to Curtis it was our first date, but I say it wasn't.”

“Why not? “

“Because he never asked me out that time. We ran into each other.”

“Fucking fate is what it was.” Claude leaned against the bar. “Paulie, where are the guys?”

“Out in the back room.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “They already have drinks back there waiting. Maybe. They already came out once for refills.”

You led them around the bar and disappeared through the kitchen and into the back store room that Paulie set up for you guys to practice throwing axes You could hear the three of them debating near the large bullseye.

“Yeah, it veers to the left because you are not throwing straight Curtis.” Edgar stated while studying the implanted hatchet.

“I bumped my shoulder the other night.” He admitted, his hand lifting to rub at his shoulder. “Must still be sore.”

You hid a grin, knowing full well why he bumped his shoulder. The two of you tumbled out of bed right in the middle of making out and Curtis had managed to wedge himself between you and the floor before you both landed. You felt awful at the moment as he hissed in pain, scrambling off to sit next to him, half-undressed while he laughed hard, assuring you that he was okay.

You certainly didn’t see anything funny about what just happened, worried that you had really hurt him but he pulled you back to him, kissing and pulling you against him till you were lost in the haze that being with him brought. “Get your ass back up on the bed Honey, we weren’t finished.” You never got off the floor so fast in your life. Curtis right behind you, rolling the two of you back together, making you laugh at his enthusiasm.

Next morning, he was lame.

“Well now I know how I can win against you.” Grey joked. “Gotta maim you.”

“Fuck off Grey, you been ahead in points since Christmas.” Curtis flipped him off while you three entered the room, breaking up the debate as all three of them saw your small group coming in.

“Hey guys…” You paused to sling your arm encouraging around your friend. “This is Yona, Claude and I work with her.”

“Hi, Yona.” They rang out in unison, making the woman next to you laugh with her own greeting back.

“This is Grey.” Claude pointed him out. “Curtis is that tall brute next to him.” Then she sauntered over to Edgar, taking his hand, not being too subtle at all as she pulled the man forward. “And this is Edgar.”

Edgar blushed wildly, making him look cute and boyish at that moment. “It’s nice to meet you Yona.” His hand slipped into hers when she offered it, giving a shake. His hand swallowed hers but just watching them, you had a feeling that Yona had the upper hand.

“You too Edgar, what were you guys doing?”

“Throwing hatchets, do you want to try?” Edgar perked up, Curtis wrapped his arms around you, invested as well in the interaction.

“Absolutely.” Yona set her purse down on the table and wriggled out of her winter coat. You watched as Edgar set about finding her some hatchets. Curtis tugged on your jacket, encouraging you to slip it off and settle in for game night.

“I like her.” He admitted, still listening to her and Edgar talk while they both took up spots to throw with hatchets in hand.

“I knew you would.” You said softly back while turning to face him, eyeing his shoulder. “Is it still really sore?”

“Nah, just stiff.” He rolled his shoulders, wincing a bit. “Okay, A little bit. You gonna kiss and make it better?” A wriggle of his eyebrows disappeared under his black beanie. He looked so hopeful at that moment, you had to give him a little something to ponder.

“Will do more than kiss it better.” Giving a wink, you took his hand in yours and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “But not till later, we have all night.” You tugged him closer to the throwing line so you could watch Yona’s and Edgar's throws, Curtis groaning behind you.

“Later? Honey you want me to hold out that long?”

“Hold out for what?” Claude piped up, her eyes teasing at Curtis while you let Curtis engulf you, his arms draped around you and his chest pressing against your back, his groin pressing half-hard against you.

“Exactly what you think.” Curtis retorted while Claude cackled, you scoffed and looked up at him.

“Behave.”

“Make me.” His grin was wickedly teasing, you let yourself lean back into him while Edgar lined up his shot and swung his arm to send the hatchet spinning in a blur but it planted into the bullseye very close to its intended target. “Damn, keep going and you are gonna be hitting those dead center.” Curtis complimented and you gave a small squeeze to his hand in a thank you. You knew Curtis didn’t give them out to Edgar, not often since Halloween and you hated the rift between the two of them, even though Edgar had been wildly out of line that night.

Edgar shrugged, trying to brush it off while Grey and Claude added their own input, but you saw the little secret smile he hid when he ducked his head, stepping aside for Yona to throw. Yona approached with some apprehension. Everyone started to yell encouraging, but Edgar motioned for you all to pipe it down. You muffled yourself in Curtis’s arm, still watching as she made her throw.

And it landed so close to Edgar’s, even though it did bounce off, that you and Claude cheered. Grey and Curtis exchanged glances, grinning at one another. “Let her throw again,” Curtis mentioned. “And give her one of those sharper ones.”

“Yeah!” Edgar went to grab another, this one gleaming with a fresh blade as he carefully handed it over. “Throw it again, Yona.”

“Why did you give me a dull one before?” she quizzed him and Edgar shrugged.

“It was the first one I grabbed that looked like would be a good fit for you.” Edgar tried explaining hurriedly to defend himself, you saw the flash of nerves across his face that he might have screwed up. Yona giggled and bumped her shoulder against him, breaking the seconds of tension.

“I’m just teasing.” She whirled up to send that one flying. It was closer to the bullseye and stayed in the board this time.

You all gasped in surprise and Edgar rushed right over to check it, wrenching the hatchet out while placing a marker in the spot. “You are good at this.”

She shrugged, this time she came off as a bit shy. “Ah, well I did archery every summer at my family’s camp.” She collected the hatchet in Edgar’s hand and swooped down to pick up the first one that dropped. “I have really good aim.”

Curtis, who was still behind you, watching the interaction dropped his mouth to your ear, whispering softly. “Oh yeah, I really like this friend. Edgar does too.” Your eyes flickered to Claude who was whispering excitedly to Grey, the man nodding in agreement with what she was saying.

In the following weeks, Edgar and Yona started to see one another outside of the group. Curtis certainly noticed a change in his friend. He stopped being sullen about things, more enthusiastic and exuberant at work. Although whenever Grey or Curtis mentioned getting together at Paulie’s, Edgar had an excuse for why he couldn’t go out.

That made Curtis home more often as Grey was also going out with Claude when he wasn’t spending his evenings with Sophia. You as well were busy with after-school programs involved in coaching students who were struggling with their studies. It turned into late nights in his garage working on the Camaro till he wandered up to his bedroom to shower, read and share a few messages with you before bed.

You offered to come over afterward, but Curtis knew how busy and tired you were. Not to mention the fact your apartment was a lot closer to the school. As a compromise, you always made sure to call him while you were getting ready for bed.

“I have our flight booked for Florida.” He could hear you shifting the blankets around and the creak of your bed as you got in. He also heard the unsaid questioning part in your statement.

“I’m ready for some sunshine, sand, and sex with my girl.” He teased as he flopped on his bed, having taken a shower earlier and set the heater for the night, he was just wandering his bedroom in his boxers now, ready to crash after you said goodnight to him. You laughed at his statement, relieved sounding.

“Sunshine, sand and sex actually sounds really good.” You gave a little moan in the phone, more rustling of your beading, and Curtis could hear the soft hitch of your breath.

“You tired tonight Honey?”

“No…”

“But I hear it in your voice, what is it you are wanting?” Curtis questioned, his legs stretching out as he leaned against the headboard, waiting for your answer.

“I miss you.” You said hesitantly. “I feel like we haven't seen each other in forever now. I’m sorry, I know it is because of my stuff at the school we haven't.”

“I miss you too, Honey. I know we were supposed to meet up with everyone at Paulie’s, but what if we just spent the evening together this weekend?” Curtis knew it was late, and both of you would be up at the crack of dawn, but he had to make the offer. For you, he would make that drive. “What if I came over now Honey?”

“No.” You said firmly, being the more reasonable to the two of them. “Friday is your early day so you can’t be late and I will just be passing out after talking to you.”

“You, Pretty Girl, are such a teacher.” Curtis teased. “All responsible. Fine, fine… I could help you go to sleep though.”

“Well I am, but seriously Curtis, you would just be coming here to cling to the edge of my small bed and not get a good nights sleep.”

“Your bed isn’t that small.”

“Smaller then your king size one.” You giggled and almost shyly inquired his other proposal. “How are you going to make me fall asleep?”

His sweet little Honey, how he wished he was there to see your reaction to what he was offering.

“We have never had phone sex Pretty Girl.” There was that whine of surprise, a bit needy and he assumed it was from him using Pretty Girl.

There was silence, but then a tiny breathy “Oh.” reached him. “No, we haven't done that.”

“We don’t have to if you are not in the mood.” Curtis offered, giving you an easy out if you were not interested.

“No! Um- I’m very much in the mood Curtis.” Your bed creaked once more as you wriggled around in your covers Curtis guessed from the sounds you were making on the other end.

“Just relax Y/N, I got you.” Curtis tilted his head back, letting his eyes close so he could picture you laying in your own bed. “What are you wearing Honey?”

“Um, well I am wearing your Highway To Hell tee.” That made Curtis smile, knowing you were wrapped up in his clothing.

“I left it there for you to use Pretty Girl. Where do you want to touch yourself first, close your eyes and picture it, talk to me.” He was patient, not pushing you further. But he could picture you trying to work through your thoughts, the way your expression would go from unsure to exited at the challenge.

“My thighs, sliding my hands along the tops of them.”

“You do have beautiful thighs.” Curtis started, his free hand rubbing down his bare chest and belly to rest above the bend of his boxers. “I love feeling how soft they are as they wrap around me and squeeze.” Your breath hitched at his words, he swore he heard a touch of a whine in your voice.

“Then to my inner thighs, my hands are not as good as yours though. Or your beard.” You tone started to sound breathy, like you were headed towards something.

Curtis ran a hand against his chin, rasping it enough so you could hear it. Your breath hitched just as he hoped. “You like my beard rubbing against your skin, marking you all over Pretty Girl?”

“Yes!” you said with enthusiasm, Curtis cussed under his breath hearing you and moved his hand under the band of his boxers to press his palm against his throbbing cock. “Run your face up and down my thighs.”

“Play with your tits Pretty Girl, I know you love your nipples licked and sucked on.” Curtis wrapped his fingers around himself, squeezing lightly, resisting jerking himself off listening to you for now. “Push your shirt up off yourself.”

A rustling started in the phone and then you started whimpering. “I do love when you suck on me like that.” You sounded so sweet, making Curtis grunt lightly as he pulled his hard throbbing cock out, fisting himself tighter.

“Honey, I would be pulling and sucking on them, kissing all over till you were covered. One day I will fuck your breasts.” He jerked himself, pushing his legs up to brace his feet against his mattress.

“Your big fat cock pushing through my tits.” You encouraged him. Curtis let his head fall back, letting himself get lost in the moment listening to you. “I want you too.” Your voice drifted off a moment. “I have to touch myself.”

“Do it Pretty Girl, you must be wet now.”

“Uh-huh.” Curtis recognized that tone, the soft wail starting to build up, the sound of you rubbing your clit. “I want you inside me. To feel you on top of me, holding me down.”

“Trust me Honey, I will be soon.” Curtis felt himself shudder hearing you, his cock throbbing, needing to release. He worked his hand harder, chasing that feeling that burned in his belly.

“Have you underneath me feeling so good.”

“Hands pinned back?” Your covers rustled in the phone like you were kicking them off. The sound of your whines and moans coming more frequently, your fingers now burying into you from the sounds of it. Curtis could just picture you, your thighs spread open and your fingers pushing into your heat till you were messy sounding, your pussy squelching with every squeeze around your digits.

“Fuck I will tie you up if it will get you off Honey.” Curtis hissed into the phone. “Fuck-” His hips chased his fist, his cum starting to shoot over his hand. You were quiet a moment, just soft pleading whines coming through.

“Did you come?”

“Yes Pretty Girl.” He exhaled deeply. “Your turn Honey. You are so good, always feel so good squeezing my cock Honey, feel yourself squeezing your fingers.”

“Its’s not as good as your cock though.” You sighed in frustration and his phone ruffled a moment. Then a buzz came through. Curtis couldn’t help but grin that you must have gotten a toy.

“Pretty Girl, have you been holding out on me?”

You sounded sheepish on the phone. “Well, I haven't needed anything since being with you.”

“Well damn Honey, glad to have been of service. But I think should take some of those out next time I’m over. Let me hear you Pretty Girl, I wanna hear you feel good.”

You started softly, rebuilding back up, but within minutes you were chanting Curtis’s name and crying out in need. “You’re so close Honey, fuck you sound so good you are gonna get me hard again” When you came, Curtis started praising you, telling you how good you did for him, that he couldn’t wait to see you.

You said his name with a curious tone. “Curtis… you really don’t care about the toys?”

That surprised him for a moment. His brow furrows in his confusion. “No? I think that we should start using them if you didn’t mind. Why?”

“Well… I have known others to be jealous of me having them.” You stated cautiously and Curtis would have been willing to put money on who exactly that would have been.

“Honey, toys don’t bother me. You want them, then you should have them. Damn, I will buy you some when I find out what you like.”

“Oh, you don’t have to-”

“No, I don’t have to but I sure as fuck want to. I would never tell you that you can’t have them anymore, or ever care if you used them. If you are worried about me feeling jealous of some toys, don’t. I’m not at all concerned that I’m not pleasing you. Adding toys will just make it that much better for us.” He pointed out.

“You are really okay with this.” You stated almost incredulously.

“Y/N, I’m serious, It doesn’t bother me.” Curtis stated. You yawned into the phone, making him speak up. “I am gonna say goodnight though Honey, you have an early day.”

“I’m not tired… much.” You rebutted. “But you are right. Thank you Curtis.”

“Thank you Honey, it was good hearing you even if I can’t be with you. Goodnight Pretty Girl.”

You groaned into the phone in exasperation, making Curtis chuckle. “Goodnight, sweet dreams.”

"Trust me, will be dreaming about loving up on you. Talk tomorrow Beautiful."

#life is short so make it sweet #curtis and honey #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett and reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett and you #curtis everett x plus sized reader #curtis everett and plus sized reader #curtis everett au #curtis everett #chris evans characters #amber writes #sweater writes

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