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chososdiscordkitten · 2 months

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Ex-Husband Gojo

artist: yunonoai on twt

Synopsis: Gojo as ur ex-husband trying to win you back („• ᴗ •„)

Pairing: Gojo x Fem!Reader Content: no use of y/n nor mentions of readers appearance, THERES PLOT IN THIS ONE!! Mentions of pregnancy and getting back together again, seducing(?), fingering, spanking ONCE, reader gets folded like a chair, multiple orgasms, cream pie, aftercare(?)

(a.n) underlined text is a link incase u need a picture of the position :>

MDNI

You could never hate Gojo, even if you had been divorced for a year- pretending to barely tolerate him when you saw him.

But you knew in your marrow- you could never hate him. The only man in your life for the past 7 years, father of your child, and provider of anything you could ask for.

The divorce didn’t even affect Gojo- even as he was signing the papers, he still looked at you like you hung the moon and the stars.

“Give my wife whatever she wants.” he directed his divorce lawyer, earning an exasperated sigh from your lips.

Everything your own lawyer asked for, he shrugged.

The house? “Take it.” he scoffed, looking at you with all the love in the world.

Child support? He didn’t even blink. Satoru offered to give you money every month. As long as you didn’t work and stayed at home to care for his son.

Forget the cars or the cabin in the mountains you would go to in the winter to ski. None of that bothered Satoru. He would give you whatever you requested as long as it made you happy.

It only made your head pulse- the way the divorce lawyers were looking at you like you were some kind of horrible villain. Divorcing a seemingly loving husband who would give you anything and everything you asked for.

That was until you asked for sole custody of your child, knowing he barely had time when you were married; how would he find the time as a single father?

“No,” he said sternly, in a deeper tone—now taking this seriously. “50-50, or nothing.” he threatened, a dark aura looming over his figure as you caved.

You asked for a divorce, not because he never gave you enough— that was never the problem. Gojo loved giving and had more than enough to offer, especially to his wife and child.

The issue was, two years into marriage, he knocked you up. It wasn’t a problem though. Married, old enough, and stable enough to welcome a child into the world.

Satoru was present a lot more for those 9 months you were growing his child. Ignoring the responsibilities of his demanding job.

Nine months of pure bliss. Moving into a house, painting your child’s nursery together. Shopping for clothes, going through Satoru’s unbelievably long list of baby names- 90% of which you said ‘no’ to.

The two years before you were pregnant, you were aware of how demanding Gojo’s job really was. You knew he would be gone more often than he was present.

And it didn't bother you. If it made Satoru happy and he still returned to you at the end of the day- you didn't mind.

But during those nine months of growing his child, you thought the rest of your lives together would be the same. You thought he would be present more often than not.

And when you were pushing his big-headed child into the world, it was almost like a switch flipped in Satoru’s mind. As though he looked down to the child that was undeniably his, lily white hair—the same shade as his, and bright blue eyes, just like his father's. Gojo saw the future in the boy he held in his hands.

Gojo never told you, but that day, he realized he had to work harder, to give you and his son the best lives you could have.

He distanced himself, making sure to leave as much space between you and his work as he could. This led to you wondering if he just didn’t find you attractive anymore, or if the domestic cookie-cutter life wasn’t enough for him.

Had he told you the truth- maybe the divorce would have been avoidable. But Satoru saw this divorce settlement as you throwing a fit.

Deep down, it hurt him. It pained his heart even thinking that you would consider leaving him, but he allowed you to sign those papers.

It only meant he would have to make you fall in love with him all over again.

You scoffed at his demand of 50-50 custody, knowing you saw him two nights a week when you were married. Not even being able to fathom how he could handle having your son 50% of the time.

But Satoru surprised you in that area. Always being on time to pick up his kid from your doorstep, giving you a big hug every time he would see you. Even kissing your forehead when he would leave.

You didn’t think anything of it- he invested so much of himself in your marriage; it was instinct by now.

But when you’d be at the park with them, watching him hold the little hand of the mini Gojo that looked identical to him. Smiling with a soft warmth, Satoru may have always run out of time- constantly. But it was undeniable that he was a fantastic father.

When he ran into an acquaintance from work, he still introduced you as his lovely wife. So often that you stopped correcting him, knowing he would only start complaining if you did.

Even if the law saw you as a single mom. Technically, divorced and with a 5-year-old toddler on your hip.

Satoru still looked at you and saw his wife. Mother of his child, homemaker, and the only person that helped him heal- the person who gave him the privilege of being a father.

In his eyes, you were still his. Didn’t matter if you were divorced or not; the marriage dynamic was still present between you two.

Of the two of you, Satoru was the one who was least embarrassed about the little slip-ups. Late nights after you put your toddler down to sleep, wine glasses in hand as you recalled memories from married life.

9 out of 10 times, it always ended with Satoru’s lips crashing into yours, greedily slotting his tongue past your lips as his hands pulled you to straddle his thighs.

Nights ending with being cuddled up together, undressed and on the bed you didn’t replace when he moved out. And mornings being awakened by the smell of pancakes coming from the kitchen.

Walking down the stairs with puffy eyes, “Your mama always sleep in this late?” you heard Satoru speak from the kitchen, followed by a little laugh your son chimed.

Nodding your head disapprovingly with a smile, watching your child pull Satoru’s ear to his lips, letting out a small ‘tsk’ at what his child whispered into his ear.

The sight was always heartwarming, knowing things could’ve been like this all the time if things were different.

And every afternoon, when Satoru would practically be forced out of the house- came the talk of “This can’t happen again. It’s confusing for him-” Only for Satoru to kiss your cheek.

“Won’t happen again.” he would smile, knowing that declaration was a mere tool to end conversations like these. Knowing as long as you allowed it- mornings like these would keep happening.

There was still a lot- almost too much love, between you and Satoru. You knew this couldn’t continue, branching out and thinking of ways to not be so involved. Being all too aware of the fact that, for the past 7 years, your life has only been your husband and your son.

Ex-Husband.

That only proved your point- Satoru slowly started embedding the idea of calling him your husband again, that even in your own mind you still referred to him as such.

You knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. To continue entertaining the potential of getting together again. You considered it at first, if he was such a changed man and all he needed was to be reminded of what he lost to change his ways, would it be so bad to get back together?

But the slip-ups and nights shared together in each other's arms were too good to be true.

You feared that the same thing would happen if you allowed him fully into your life again. He would show you the best parts of him at first, then go back to neglecting his responsibilities to you and his child.

So when you asked Gojo to babysit for one evening. Instead of asking you why, he asked his 5-year-old son. Who came running up to him, pulling Satoru's hair to whisper another secret into his ear- barely legible and full of amused giggles: “Mommy has a date.”

Satoru must’ve heard wrong- it almost sounded like his son said you- his wife, had a date with someone other than him.

He tried getting more information out of his son, playfully asking who, where, and why. But the little man only scoffed, saying that you only said you had a date, and that’s why Dad had to watch him that evening.

And on the day of, Satoru showed up at your doorstep looking offensively good. Fresh haircut and his hair half dry, a white t-shirt that was entirely too tight, and gray sweats- with nothing under them (slut). And to top it all off, your favorite cologne spritzed onto his chest.

You opened your front door- you furrowed your eyebrows in disbelief, eyeing the man before you. You hated when he would purposefully show up on your doorstep looking fucking scrumptious. It was too tempting.

And as he always does- he pulls you into a rib-crushing hug, ensuring you get a face full of his scent. Kissing the top of your head as you loosely wrapped your arms around his waist. “You look gorgeous,” he murmured against your scalp, pulling away from him and scoffing.

Walking back into the entryway of your house, hearing him step behind you and close the door- “I thought I told you to come at 7.” you muttered, trying to shake off the invading thoughts of the apparent print in his sweats.

“I wanted to see you before you left.” Satoru mumbled behind you, following you up the stairs of his house and listening to the TV playing your child’s favorite cartoon.

You only hummed in response to the excuse as to why he was here a whole 2 hours before you were to leave.

While you were showering, Gojo sat on the couch supervising his son, who was asking any question that popped into the little man’s mind. Questions the child would ask you, but refuse to think you were telling the truth. So he would ask his Dad, and believe him instead.

You found it frustrating that your child believed Satoru more than he believed you- but endearing that he would always run things by his father.

All the while, answering the little questions his toddler asked- Satoru wondered if you still had that bad habit of leaving the bathroom door unlocked while you showered.

But Satoru knew he had to take a more subtle approach to the delicate situation at hand.

As he heard the sound of the shower halting- thanking the noisy plumbing the house had. It always let him know you were stepping out of the shower from wherever he was in the house.

He rose from the couch and grabbed his child from the floor. “Let’s go see what mommy’s doing.” Gojo smiled as he hooked his hands beneath his child's arms, hearing happy laughter from the little human in his hands as he ran up the stairs.

Satoru always liked watching you get dressed, even if it was to go see another man. He enjoyed watching the care you put into your appearance.

He walked into the humid restroom, his eyes catching the half-way-done zipper of your dress. “Zip me,” you murmured, looking into the mirror as you applied your makeup.

Satoru placed his child on the ground and walked up behind you, his eyes catching the clasp of your lace undergarment. He furrowed his eyebrows, realizing it was one he hadn't seen before.

He lightly placed his hand on your hip, his face too close to your shoulder, as his fingers slowly worked up the zipper. Gojo’s thumb caressed your clothed hip, giving you a light squeeze before letting go of the zipper.

Pressing your thighs together slightly and trying to ignore the warmth of his hand.

So as he sat on the edge of the bathtub, his child bouncing on his lap, watching you with an adoring gaze, enjoying the angle he had of you slightly bent over the sink. “Where’d you say you were going again?” squinting his eyes as you swiped away any misplaced makeup on your cheek.

“Out.” you scoffed, knowing if you told him the truth he would only start whining at you.

So he flashed his eyes to his son, “Do you know?” he whispered, watching his son hold back a laugh as you rolled your eyes.

As much as you disliked being the bad cop in most parenting scenarios, your child always took his side- always told him the truth when he’d ask.

“Mommy has a date.” he giggled, only for you to look to your side and squint your eyes, “Traitor.” you murmured, watching Satoru’s jaw fall in feigned shock.

“A date?” he pursed his lips, looking at you sadly. “You asked me to watch my child to go on a date?” his tone was full of sarcasm, watching you nod your head ‘no’ as you looked back into the mirror.

“It’s just dinner-” you muttered, trying to avoid his harsh gaze on your profile. “Besides, I’m sure you have your fair share of them.”

Satoru gasped your name, placing his hands on either side of his child’s head and covering his ears.

“You accuse me of cheating in front of our child? I only have room for one woman in my heart.” he scoffed, placing a hand onto his chest- almost as though he found offense in knowing you could- but he never would.

“It’s not cheating, we aren’t married anymore.”

He pulled his hands from his child’s ears, eye twitching at your declaration. “Who is he?” he asked, tone more severe as his child played with his hands. You sighed, “I have a right to know-” he started- earning for you to look at him with an irritated expression.

“Just a parent from his school.”

Satoru squinted his eyes. He knew he couldn’t ask you to homeschool his child- ‘socialization’ and all that. But now, Satoru had to worry about you being pawed at while dropping off his son at kindergarten.

In some attempts to not show he was starting to get pissed off, “If you were into single dads- you have one right here~” Gojo grinned, watching the grimace on your face churn from his attempt at flirting.

“That’s not it, but thank you for that.” you scoffed, curling your eyelashes and feeling his eyes pierce your skin.

“So what is it?” he hummed, wanting to know what this man had that he didn’t.

With a sigh you rolled your eyes, hearing your child slide off his lap and patter out of the bathroom. “I don't wanna talk about this anymore.” you muttered, sensing Satoru rise from the tub's edge and shift behind you, placing his hands around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I wanna know who you’re replacin’ me with,” he whined in your ear, causing you to scoff and look down to the sink.

You were used to Satoru clinging to you- showing his affection to you even if you weren’t together anymore.

Satoru pressed his hips onto your slightly bent bottom, his lips barely grazing your ear, “If this is about your needs- I’m here for that too, y’know.” he whispered into your ear. Making sure you could feel his print against your bottom as he pressed himself closer to you.

Your breathing increased slightly, parting your lips as his hands around your waist squeezed you tighter. “You don’t have to look for anyone else-” he whispered, lips pressing onto the shell of your ear as you closed your eyes.

“I’m here whenever you need me,”

Mentally battling the temptation with every whisper into your ear, his breathing grazing your skin, causing goosebumps to rise to the surface.

Satoru was about to murmur another temptation into your ear. Until your child's crying voice echoed through the bathroom walls. Rushing out of the bathroom and finding your son on the ground of your bedroom- Tiny droplets of blood oozed from his little knee, with fat tears leaving his blue eyes.

Satoru wasted no time scooping up the crying child from the ground, hushing him with small assurances that it was okay.

Though it was only a scrape- it was enough for Satoru to convince you to call up this, ‘Fellow parent from school’ and tell him you had to cancel. Setting no reschedule day as Gojo purposefully called out to you- “Honey, where are the band-aid’s?~”

And with that, Satoru got what he wanted. Your date was canceled, and the man backed off.

After too many treats and much-needed coddling from his father, your son dozed off in Gojo’s arms as he walked up the stairs, exhausted from the sobbing. Placing him onto the little race car bed he built- recalling the day Satoru helped you paint the bedroom.

You settled onto the living room couches and thanked him for being here. “M’sorry if you had any plans.” You sighed, looking at the well-favored man before you.

Gojo scoffed, “No plans are more important than you.” with a slight smile on his lips.

“And your son.” you clarified with a warm grin.

Satoru looked down at your hands. “And my son.” He repeated your words, reaching for your hands and holding them in his. Scooching the tiniest bit closer to you, “Thank you,” he muttered, caressing the backs of your hands with his thumbs.

“For what?” looking at him adoringly.

Gojo blinked his eyes as he engulfed the sight of your expression. Looking back at him with the same look you had when you were still married. “For bein’ a good mom,” he whispered, slowly inching closer to you.

“-nd a good wife,” he whispered, watching your eyebrows furrow at the proclamation, cheeks tingling from hearing him call you that. Parting his lips as you leaned in closer to him.

The corner of his lips curled up ever so slightly, “Why did we ever get divorced, hmm?” he whispered, darting his gaze from your eyes down to your lips. Trying to recall the last time he tasted you- finding it offensive that he couldn’t even remember.

You gulped slightly, watching his eyes go half-lidded as he leaned closer to you. You blinked your eyes closed- feeling the last of your reservations dissolve in your mind as you pressed your lips against his.

Satoru’s eyes half-lidded as he watched your eyebrows pinch up- letting go of your hands as he traced his fingertips up your arms. Lightly swiping his tongue against your bottom lip, parting your mouth to grant him entry.

Your hands making their way to his torso- feeling the thin fabric of his shirt beneath your fingers. Sighing as his tongue pressed against yours, his hands trailing to your back.

Pulling you closer to him as his fingers reached the zipper of your dress. Soft hums of appeasement rumbling onto his tongue. Tugging down the zipper slowly as your hands found the bottom of his shirt, tracing your hands beneath the fabric.

Your fingers grasping against his carved torso desperately, your thumb lightly caressing his happy trail. His hands slipped past the opening of your dress- sprawling against your back.

You pulled away- looking into his eyes. His cheeks flushed and lips puffy. “We can’t-” you breathed, hoping he would have the strength to put a halt to this. You swallowed- mouthing another ‘we can't.’ before pressing your lips onto his again.

Letting a soft moan slip your lips as he pulled the top of your dress down- feeling the light grazes of his fingers against your skin. Placing his hand on your side, sliding up your torso and cupping the underside of your laced breast.

Feeling a twinge of anger once he felt it was a bralette- only a thin layer of lace separating his hand from your soft skin. Even more when he remembered why you would be wearing this.

Tracing his thumb over the little peak beneath the lace, giving it a soft swipe. Earning a light hum to leave your lips onto his.

And to check- just to be sure he wasn’t getting mad over nothing; Satoru pulled his lips from yours. Placing damp kisses onto your cheek. Peppering them down your neck, soft sighs and moans leaving your lips were heard as hymns to Satoru’s ears.

Making sure to pay extra attention to your collarbone, taking a few seconds to suck harshly on the skin. Even if you didn’t wear your wedding ring anymore- this was his way of showing any other men that you were claimed- that you were his.

His hands shifted your hips to sit correctly on the couch, slumped with your dress bunched on your thighs. Satoru trailed wet kisses to the swell of your breast, lightly pressing his tongue onto your laced nipple and swirling against the fabric, coaxing a light moan to fall from your lips.

Though your eyes were closed, Satoru's grip on your waist told you that he was furious. Had you opened them, you would have seen his jealous eyes looking back at you.

Satoru hoped he was wrong- hoped you wouldn’t do this to him. All but praying he wouldn’t have to do what he had to if he was right.

His hands hooked onto the bunched-up fabric of your dress, shifting it down your thighs and pulling it from your body entirely before he pulled his lips from your tummy.

Looking down at the matching lace panties- soaked as they were, he had never seen them. Gojo’s eye twitched as he looked back up to you, unwilling to come to the fact that you bought- and wore this for another man.

Satoru liked thinking he was a patient person, calm and collected when he had to be. But the way he rose himself from the ground, manhandling you to flip over and bend your knees on the couch, made him realize he held no more patience for you nor your attempts to make him jealous.

Your hands held onto the back of the couch firmly, keeping yourself up as Satoru’s hands landed on your hips. Groping the malleable skin as you whimpered, pressing your bottom back to the growing erection in his sweats.

“You wore this for him?” he mumbled behind you, slipping his thumb beneath the thin band of lace. Exhaling, feeling yourself soak your panties even further.

You bit your lip, looking down at your hands in shame- knowing whatever you said now would only make him more bitter.

Murmuring something- quiet enough for Satoru not to comprehend. He huffed a smile, “What was that?” he teased, pressing his bulge against your bent bottom, pushing you further against the wall.

“Tell the truth.”

You looked back slightly, peering at the crazed man behind you. Biting your lip and facing the wall, “I did.”

As a reward for your honesty, Satoru gave you a firm spank against your bottom. Causing you to jolt forward with a soft whimper.

“You’re that needy?” Gojo teased, caressing the warm skin of your bottom, soothing the sting. “That you have to cheat on me?” you exhaled- not wanting to admit how attractive it was that he was scolding you for something he shouldn’t be.

Taking his hands from your hips and hooking them onto the sides of your panties, slipping them down your hips to be greeted with your soaked cunt. Glistening with the taste he craved from the minute he moved out.

But even if his mouth watered looking down to your core, he couldn’t bring himself to kneel before you- knowing if he let things go your way, this little farce of divorce would stay in your mind.

No, he had to teach you a lesson, even if he had to pound it into your foolish brain that you were his.

So as the tips of his fingers grazed your soaked lips- avoiding the bundle of nerves that he was sure was throbbing from how wet you were.

Circling the tips of his ring and middle finger on your entrance as you let out breathless whines. “I just missed you,” whimpering as you reached a hand back to the one that held your hip in place.

The words enticed Gojo to dip the very tips of his fingers into your cunt- “Didn’t wanna tell you.” you moaned, admitting the truth he had been wanting to hear for far too long.

Closing your eyes as he slowly inched his fingers into you. Satoru smiled, feeling your walls welcome him in, too tight to have been recently fucked. So he knew you must be telling the truth.

Grasping onto his hand, the tips of his fingers prodding into the spot he quickly found every time.

Your hand that held you up trembling as he lightly curled his fingers. Letting out breathy moans, earning Satoru to smile to himself, “Who knows how to please you like me, hm?” he let out the thoughts from his lips without permission.

You whined as he pumped his fingers into you with a slow ease. Whimpering softly as he watched with dim eyes. “Who else but me?” he pressed, feeling your grip against his hand tighten.

“Need you inside ‘toru-” you whined, the hand holding you up gripping the edge of the couch violently.

Gojo remembered the last time you called him that- biting his lip from the nickname you used to call him when you were still married. And you must’ve known how his mind reels whenever you called him that- or else why would you say it in that tone?

All but begging for his cock with every light spasm your cunt did around his fingers.

Satoru was pleased with how pliant you were in his hands, satisfied enough to pull his fingers from your cunt. Quickly removing his shirt before placing his messied hand over his sweats, softly palming himself as he looked at your core-

Gojo was so sure at that moment- that there was no god- the closest thing to it was what lied between your legs. Pulsing- begging for him to bully his pained cock into it.

He pulled his hand from his bulge, shoving down the loose band of his sweats and freeing his cock. And as you suspected- no briefs.

Placing a hand onto his base and lightly tapping his leaky tip onto your ass, causing you to whine.

Gojo started thinking about how he wanted you- now that you were compliant and needy before him.

He backed away in the slightest. Kicking off his sweats before moving you to lie back onto the couch. Settling his hips between your thighs. Soaking up the desperate expression you wore as small whimpers left your lips.

The tip of his cock sliding up and down your cunt- refusing to give you what you ached for.

His forearms held his torso up as your hands latched behind his neck- legs spread and waiting for him to plunge himself into you. Only Satoru looked into your bleary eyes with a smile, “You wan’me inside?” he huffed- watching your bottom lip quiver, lowering himself close enough for your lips to brush against his.

“Tell me 'nd I will.” he grinned against you- watching your eyes close, trying not to cave to his demands. Biting your lip as he pressed his tip against your entrance- teasing you in the slightest.

You breathed a light whimper, blinking your eyes open and staring into his power-crazed ones. “Please-” you whined, “Put it inside ‘toru.” the tone you took only made Gojo’s ego boost- smiling with parted lips as he slowly pressed past your entrance.

A light whimper rumbled from his flushed lips as your hands pulled his neck closer, pressing your lips onto his. Breathing in every whimper, he exhaled onto your tongue as he eased himself into you.

Being able to feel that you hadn’t fucked anyone recently- That you were faithful to him. And this was all just an attempt to rile him up, which only made him even more eager to burrow himself into you further, ‘You’ve been good. That’s what you deserve,’ he thought as his tongue danced with yours.

The light sting from the stretch makes you huff out a pained whimper- inching himself deeper till his hips were flush to your thighs. His tip easily found the sweet spot he seemingly had exact coordinates to.

Satoru placed his hands on your hips, slowly raising himself with your legs locked on his waist. Holding onto your back as you lightly ground your hips flush against his.

A lazy, sloppy version of a lotus position, pulling away from his lips as you trailed a hand to his hair. Looking into his hazy eyes as his hand assisted your hips.

Small moans leaving your throat as your lips brushed against his. Not even attempting to kiss him, knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep a pattern from how deep he was hitting inside of you.

A light sheen of sweat coating your forehead as Gojo relished the look in your eyes- just fucked out enough to let the mask slip. Looking at him with love-filled eyes, your bottom lip quivering as your head threatened to tip back.

Your nose scrunched lightly, neck curving back with a low groan. Not wanting to leave space between you- Satoru placed his lips onto your exposed neck, humming muffled whimpers against your skin as your bottom lip trembled.

Words forming on the tip of your tongue as you ground your cunt against him. The position so full of intimacy, it made you forget you were doing this with your ex-husband.

Puffing out a light breath, smile forming at the corner of your lips- sinking into the mouthwatering pleasure you incited with every small thrust.

“Fuck, I love you.” you moaned mindlessly. But the words rang through Satoru’s ears like church bells, words he hadn’t heard in far too long- even in the past slip-ups. You always held your tongue, making sure to not plant that seed in his mind.

Gojo almost came when he heard your proclamation, inching you back with his lips attached to your neck. Easing your back onto the arm of the couch, planting a foot onto the ground as your hands kept a tight grip on his neck. Satoru dragged his hips from yours with a loud schlop coming from between your legs.

Pulling his lips from your neck, he looked at your expression—pinched eyebrows and eyes shut tight- showing him you were close. So close, he could hear it in your sighs of content.

Satoru leaned down to your ear, huffing a warm breath against your cartilage. Shoving his cock back into you- bottoming out too quickly, earning a whine from your lips. Wasting no time before repeating the movement. Setting a speedy pace with a low whimper.

Sliding your hands up his forearms, landing on his biceps as he quickened the pace- riding himself up an orgasm.

“Lemme make you a mama again-” he huffed into your ear, his tip nudging your sensitive spot with every thrust- you moaned his name in response, so close your brain would have short-circuited had you tried answering.

Satoru grunted with a smile, thinking of the words he was about to say. “Marry-” he groaned, feeling your cunt suck him in with every pull he did, “me again.” he whimpered, his thrusts pushing you up further.

Taking a long lick at your ear- urging you to answer him. Pulling away from your neck, placing his hand on your jaw lightly. “Huh?” Satoru grinned. “Marry me again baby.” Watching your eyes crack open- bearing your teeth softly as you felt the warmth in your tummy over fill.

Pressing his parted lips to yours sloppily- pulling away, and watching your eyes threaten to roll back. You started nodding your head ‘yes’ in his hand frantically- your walls flexing around his speedy cock as he felt you come undone.

Your nodding agreement was all Satoru needed to lose the rhythm of his thrusts. Sloppily pushing into your clenching cunt, his whining muffled by his bottom lip being tucked between his teeth.

Your lips started babbling soundless pleads- ‘please, please,’ and to Satoru’s ears- you were begging for him to fill you. Fill you till he didn’t have anymore to give.

And as a loving and obedient husband- that’s what he did.

With one loud grunt- he spilled himself into you- his thrusts slowing, not as long strides, but he made sure to push his seed deeper into you. Keeping that declaration of making you a mom again.

A low whine left your lips, feeling his warm spend coat your walls with every twitch his cock made inside of you.

So full, you were sure his proclamation would come true. And he came a lot- as though he was saving it up just for you.

Heavily breathing as he slowed his thrusts, pressing his forehead to your temple. Trying to catch his breath as he came down, feeling your heartbeat against his own chest- racing and pounding against his sternum.

Soft kisses planted on your face, your hands easing their grip on his sides. Satoru's hands slid down to your hips, raising himself to his knees and looking down to where you were still connected.

A low gulp bobbing in his throat, knowing he would have to pull out eventually; And dreading it. Thinking of a million ways to keep you filled and plugged with his future offspring.

And as you finally could steady your breathing, Gojo yanked you down from the arm of the couch. Back landing flush against the cushions with a soft grunt. Looking at him, all but asking what he was doing.

Till Satoru pulled himself out of you, hoisting your hips up from the couch with two strong hands. “Sator-” you tried saying, only for his arms to hug the crease of your thighs, bending you in half with your legs flailing in the air.

All the pressure was placed onto your shoulders as Satoru latched his mouth onto your messied clit. Keeping his eyes parted and watching your expression churn. Placing a hand onto his forearm- bracing as he greedily lapped at your neglected clit.

Mentally- this was to give his seed a better chance of taking. Hips in the air- all of the cum he had just pumped into you had nowhere else to go but deeper inside of you. And to also get a taste of you- even if remnants of his cum mixed with it. Satoru didn’t care, as long as he got to taste you.

Huffing out all the air you could, puffs laced with moans. Your hands gripping harshly onto Gojo's forearm, leaving minor crescent-shaped marks on his skin from your nails.

Basically folded in half, your hips started writhing in his grasp- overstimulation creeping up your spine from his vigorous tongue.

Spasming in his hands- trying to warm you were close, but it only came out as more ragged whimpers. Clenching your teeth with your eyes shut tight- unable to see the starved expression looking at you as Gojo unraveled you.

And once Gojo felt your clit tremble between his lips- he knew it was too soon to let you back down; he needed to keep your hips aimed up as long as he could.

Satoru watched your bottom lip tremble as he continued the movement with his tongue. Your hips trying to shimmy from his grasp- but he held you up with two strong arms that had a mission.

Abusing your overwhelmed clit as your eyes screwed together tighter- white spots infiltrating your closed vision with desperate moans. The top of your head bumped into the arm of the couch as he pushed you into a firmer bend.

Your entrance squelched against his chin as he pulled another orgasm from you- more ragged whimpers littered with his name falling from your lips.

You huffed- feeling his mouth go unbothered from the third orgasm he had given you. “Please ‘toru-” you whimpered, cracking your eyes open and looking at the crazed man holding your hips. Satoru pulled his lips from your cunt- looking at you with a smile.

Half his face soiled with your arousal and a glimmer of his seed on his chin. “Just one more-” he egged on, looking at you with dazed eyes. “Jus’onemor-” he cut himself off by placing his lips back onto your clit.

You only sighed a whimper, allowing him to get his fill.

Satoru lapped at your puffy clit, his eyebrows pinching together as his cock sent signals to his mind- the same signals that he was close to an orgasm. Untouched and so close just from pleasing you- from hearing your pretty sounds.

Gojo started to whimper lightly- whimpers that vibrated against your cunt and caused your moans to slur into higher-pitched puffs of air- trying to pull through another orgasm. Taking your lip between your teeth with harshly pinched eyebrows, puffing through your nose with muffled whines.

He closed his eyes- feeling the knot formed in his tummy snap as your knuckles turned a lighter shade, just from how hard you clawed at his forearm. Feeling a warm spurt onto your bent spine as you tried to focus on cumming.

It took very little time for Satoru to gift you a fourth orgasm, a small tear falling from your closed eye as you aimlessly shifted in his grasp.

Satoru sloppily licked at your cunt- cleaning up the mess on your clit with a softer tongue, parting his eyes and looking at your expression. Slowly easing his grasp on your hips as he unfolded you, placing one last kiss onto your cunt, earning a spasm from your hips.

He eased your hips back down onto the couch, watching your fucked out expression breathe in as much air as you could- trying to catch your breath.

Uncaring if the mess he spurt onto your back messied the couch- you always complained about how ugly it was anyway.

He lazily laid himself atop you- placing the side of his face on your collarbone as your hands rested on his shoulders, rubbing small circles on his skin. Grunting softly from how easily he laid his entire body weight on yours.

You parted your eyes, trying to blink away the post-orgasm haze. Even if you had showered a few hours ago- Satoru’s bath offer sounded like heaven.

It seemed to take no longer than a few slow blinks. Easing into the clawfoot bathtub Satoru chose specifically for times like these when he bought the house.

Sighing softly as his arms held you close, his palm gently sprawled against your lower belly and your back pressed to his chest. Avoiding the conversation that needed to be spoken about.

Knowing it would never be spoken if you shoved it off, jettisoned aside to be talked about later.

“Satoru?” you hummed, placing the back of your head onto his chest.

He sighed, closing his eyes and nodding his head 'no'. “I don’t wanna talk about that right now.” he huffed, feeling your hand clasp his beneath the water. Interlocking your fingers with his and closing your eyes.

“If we don’t talk about it now, we never will.”

Satoru smiled. “Then let’s never talk about it~” he scoffed.

You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to make sense of the meaningless words he babbled into your ear earlier. “You really wanna marry me again?” you asked- unsure if they were just words he mindlessly spouted at the moment- or if they had any meaning.

He scoffed, “What kind of question is that?”

Inhaling as though you were about to speak- “Course I wanna marry you again,” he hummed. Rubbing your belly softly, “nd make you a mom again.”

Pulling his hand from your tummy with a scoff, causing small ripples in the water. “Be serious.”

“You have no idea how serious I’m being right now.”

Your lips pulled to the side, mulling over his proclamation.

“You still love me?” he asked, looking down at the side of your face.

Turning your neck slightly, you peered your eyes up at him with sincerity filling them. Furrowing your eyebrows, you tried not to admit it, but- “Of course I still love you, ‘toru.” You mumbled. Heartfelt words that rang true in your heart.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you.”

“Then marry me.” he whirred, watching your hand pull his left one up from the water. Your eyes admiring the wedding band he hadn’t taken off.

You stayed silent, holding his ringed hand in yours. Satoru would be lying if he said seeing your ring finger empty didn't hurt.

Your silence gave Gojo his answer, “Why not?” he whispered, hearing a ragged sigh from your lips. “I still love you- you. You still love me-”

“M’scared.” you mumbled. Feeling your shoulders tense against his chest with a small ripple in the water.

Satoru let out a half-laugh from his chest. “Of what? I’ve been good, haven’t I?” he grinned, his playful tone invading your ears.

“You were good when I was pregnant too.” you quipped, dropping his hand into the water and recalling the days he started slipping through your grasp.

You sniffled lightly, “nd look what happened.”

Satoru bit his tongue. Knowing if he started defending his baseless actions, this would end up being a fight.

“I spent so long wondering if it was me- if I was the problem.” you scoffed. “I don’t want to let you back in just for the same thing to happen.”

Satoru pulled you closer with a sigh, “It won’t happen again.” he whispered into your ear, “I promise.”

You huffed air from your nose, making Satoru think you didn’t believe him. “I’ll even write it into my vows this time.”

A small laugh left your lips, “You won’t miss single life too much?” you played, feeling his head rest against yours.

“Not once have I felt single since you signed those papers.” he grinned.

You pondered his offer, pretending to actually consider the option before you.

Satoru softly kissed your ear, “C’mon- I’ll be such a good husband~” he whispered.

It wasn’t as though you ever really felt single either- That one year spent apart was still full of love and a marital dynamic.

The rest of the night was spent in the same bed Satoru built after you moved into the house, cuddled up just the way you had longed for since he moved out.

The following day, Satoru couldn’t wait for his son to fully wake up- he walked into the hazy child's bedroom and asked if he wanted a little brother or sister.

All smiles and beaming eyes in the kitchen- telling his son that his plan worked. He made you fall in love with him, and he was finally your husband again.

And as you watched your husband and your son giggle with each other in the kitchen, you smiled. Warm cheeks from the thought that Satoru actually thought you stopped loving him at some point.

But then again, you never really fell out of love, did you?

I loved writing this sm.

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saiidahyunie · 4 months

Text

autopilot

g!p minatozaki sana x reader ; smut

synopsis: taking the term ‘sex drive’ to a whole different meaning.

wc: 1.7k

warnings: no plot, just smut ; cursing ; voyeurism ; public sex kinda? ; creampie kink?? ; praise ; filthy filthy filthy ;)))))

a/n: first time writing/experimenting with g!p sooooooooo i'm curious to see how this is received :-D

—

sana and you were heading up to momo’s place for her birthday party.

the big catch was that momo wanted to have her birthday up in the mountains, so she and the rest of the girls planned out a whole airbnb to stay at a cabin for the weekend.

you insisted sana to leave that thursday night, but sana had a last minute work situation come up so the drive had to be done the next day.

once on the road, the trip would take about two hours to get to the cabin. you wanted to drive so that sana could relax after staying up, but she was willing to be in the driver's seat.

you guys were halfway there as you sat in the car, looking out the window of the rows of trees that went for miles on end. you then set your eyes on sana at her attire—she looked like she just got out of the gym, wearing a sleek black sports bra under her track jacket paired with simple grey sweats. she looked too good as your eyes trail down her breasts to her perfectly sculpted abs.

you also notice a small tent perking up in her pants as you bite your lip at the thought of her dick wanting to be let out. so without a second thought, you let your impulsive plan in motion.

“sanaaaaaaa.” you complain, “are we there yet?”

sana softly chuckles at your whiny little kid antics as she peers over the touchscreen to see the gps.

“we’ve got about forty-five minutes y/n, so just sit tight a little longer for me yeah?” she asks you as she puts one hand on the wheel and her other hand on her thigh.

“wanna do something to pass the time?”

“baby, i’m driving here, we can't.”

“you do know the car can be self-driven right?” you tsked out at her immediate refusal, knitting your brows together.

“yeah, and what about it?”

you swipe up on the touchscreen, tapping on a few panels as you set the car to self-driving mode. while you were doing that with your right hand, your left hand found its way to sana’s dick, brushing it lightly against the clothed fabric of her sweats.

sana is left confused as you give a devilish smirk, continuing to feel up sana get harder and harder though her pants.

“y/n, what if we get into an accident?”

you shift your hands as you continue to move your hands around her body, rubbing up her dick and abs, gripping the waistband slightly down before stopping.

“i don’t see any cars around, do you?”

sana looks at the car mirrors, realizing that you were right as she leans back deeper into the seat. you take your hands off of sana’s body as she whines out cutely, the car continuing to roll down the road at a comfortable speed.

“what’s wrong babe?” you coo as you take off your oversized sweater, revealing that you were wearing a black compression shirt that made your boobs look slightly bigger as sana inhaled sharply at the sight of you.

“n-nothing.” sana replies with a soft groan as she rubs herself through her sweatpants, cheeks flushing pink as she fondles her boob with her other hand.

“you want me to help with that?” eyeing the visible tent that was making sana super uncomfortable as sana continues to pump her dick up, hand clearly in her sweatpants as you smiled at her state.

“please y/n, i need you.”

you hummed out in delight as you crashed your lips with sana, smiling against her face as she let out a needy moan, her hands cupping your body as you slipped your hand through sana’s pants, palming her dick as you continued to stroke her length.

the slow pace was agonizing for sana as you felt her tip leak with a bit of precum through her boxers, lifting her hips up from the seat to fuck your hand, gasping out as you watch your girlfriend tried to get herself off.

you abruptly pull your hand away from sana’s pants as sana was annoyed again, shaking her whole body as a complaint as you shut her up with another kiss.

“you want more than my hand do ya?” you ask, pulling away from sana’s face slightly as she whimpered at your teasing.

“fuck, yes please y/n, i need you now.”

you kiss her cheek as you help sana take off her pants and boxers, her dick springing out in full length as you take off your pants. sana notices that you weren’t wearing any panties at all during this trip as her brain started to connect the dots together.

“so you planned this, didn't you?” sana asks you as you lather up your pussy with your spit, rubbing your clit as sana jerks the tip of her cock.

“when you look this good, how could i resist.”

you then shift yourself over to sana’s seat, hovering over her hips as you lower yourself slowly, letting sana’s tip across your folds as you gasp out at the pleasurable moment.

“fuckkkk baby. you’re gonna feel so good inside me.” you groan out as you rubbed her tip for a few seconds longer, letting sana’s length fill you up, lightly bouncing on the top half of her dick as you take more and more of her as you lowered yourself down.

sana throws her head back against the headrest, covering her mouth with her wrist as she feels her dick take up all of you painfully slow.

“feel good sana?”

“it’s amazing how you take me so well baby, i love it.”

sana then repositions herself slightly as you start to bounce on her dick at a steady pace, moans leaving your mouth as sana’s pupils dilate the sight of you riding her, cock sliding in and out of your pussy as your juices slick up her member. sana loves how you lose yourself in ecstasy, the sounds of your ass slapping her hips filling up the car as it continues to stay on course with the road.

“so big sana, fuck.”

sana tries to restrain much as she could, legs straightening out the more you fuck yourself on your her dick. working yourself to the bone as you ride out your much needed horniness. sana then clutches her hands under your ass, allowing you to get in a better crouching position as you let her thrust in you deeper, her tip puncturing your cervix as you lean down over to kiss her.

your legs move themselves flat on the seat as sana pulls you against her, arms clutching your back as she increases her pace tenfold.

“god sana please, don’t stop-“ you groan against her ear, “fuck my brains out like i know you could.”

sana growls lowly as she grabs your hips, her thighs slapping against your pussy as you yelp out in excitement.

“shit y/n, you’d do anything to get fucked by me even if it’s anywhere.” sana mumbles as she nips at your neck, adding onto the stimulus as you feel like putty on top of sana.

the heavy breathing is in sync, the moans are at the same matching octave, it’s near perfect you and sama completely forget that you’re fucking in a moving car. the high was almost there, sana just needed an extra push as you felt the pressure coil in your stomach and cervix.

“yes yes yes y/n- fuck you feel so fucking good.”

“mhm? you like when you get to fuck me like this baby? this pussy is all yours.” you murmur as sana falls limp for a second, allowing you to impale yourself with her cock as her eyes flutter shut, completely lost on cloud nine as you let gravity do its work with your bouncing ass.

sana groans out again, gritting her teeth as she lightly thrusts into you again, letting you do most of the motion as she holds both of your hands for more stability.

“you’re so good for me sana, look at me.”

sana locks eyes with you, realizing that she was getting close to releasing.

“ngh, baby ‘m so close shit-”

“wanna cum in this pussy so badly? no one else gets to fuck you like this but me.”

“keep going baby, yes just like that mmph-”

sana then pulls you closer again on top of her, growling as she starts to thrust inside you insanely fast. your cries were growing louder as your pace starts to bottom out.

“fuck fuck fuck y/n ‘m gonna cum i-”

you slam your hips down, sana helping as your walls contract around her cock. you grip her shoulders as sana’s cum fills your pussy up, cock pulsing as she curses out lowly.

it was so blissful, but you grind on her cock a little bit longer, sana’s body shuddering as a few more spurts from her cock coats your walls before coming to a complete standstill.

you collapse on top of sana finally, letting your body relax as she rubs your back. fingers weaving through your hair as you lay light kisses on her neck, not wanting to move as you and her were clearly spent after fucking each other dumb.

“i love your cum inside me…” you mumble out as you and sana’s breath return to somewhat normal, giving her another quick peck lifting yourself off of sana’s cock, a few drops of her cum dripping out of your pussy and onto her stomach. sana still not moving as she just looks at you with half lidded eyes whilst lying down on the seat.

“you look so pretty for me like that.” you say to sana as you lean towards her for a lazy kiss, a grin cracking through sana’s face as she places her hand on your cheek.

“you’re such a sex addict y/n.” sana smirks as she watches you pull away, “my dick can’t keep up with your sudden waves of being horny so be glad i was able to last this long for you.”

plopping back on the passenger seat as the car was still moving at a stable speed, you swipe on the touchscreen while sana readjusted her seat to a proper driving position. you check the eta to the cabin as you put your pants back on, sana’s hand rubbing your thigh as you look at her with genuine curiosity.

“we still have about twenty minutes before we reach the cabin. wanna pull over so you can fuck my ass some more?”

“i’m soooooo gonna get you back for fucking me while in a moving car.”

#saiiidahyunee #twice x reader #kpop x reader #sana x reader #twice imagines #sana twice #twice sana #minatozaki sana #twice smut #sana smut

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atinystraynstay · 2 months

Text

In The Woods Somewhere - Kim Mingyu

Synopsis: Going into the woods was not your idea of a vacation. However, Mingyu was determined to change your mind.

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem. reader

WARNING: MINORS DNI

Genre: established relationship, soft smut

Contains: nudity, grinding, begging, exhibitionism (even if you can call it that), unprotected sex (wrap it up, my friends!), pet names (use of daddy), creampie

Word Count: 3.5k

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"Do I need to make a right or left turn?" Mingyu muttered.

His eyes glanced back and forth between the road in front of him and the GPS. You couldn't help but giggle at how adorable looked, even if he looked like a mad man behind the wheel. His eyebrows were scrunched together, his tongue slightly poking out from his lips.

"Honey, would you leave that to me?" "Yes, passenger princess," he said teasingly.

Yet, he still reached over to pull your hand gently to his lips where he placed a lingering kiss on the back of your hand. Even when he was in a playful mood, he never wanted you to doubt it came from a place of endearment.

You squeezed his hand affectionately as your eyes analyzed the GPS mounted on the dashboard.

"Okay, you're going to make a left then follow the dirt road to the cabin." "Aye, aye captain!"

You couldn't help but giggle at his antics. One of the things you adored about Mingyu was his goofy personality. It made life fun, even when you felt like the world around you was crashing down.

That is why Mingyu instantly recommended a getaway, just for the two of you. He, of course, felt his own stressors at work. With deadlines and projects popping up, the time you have as a couple was very limited. If anything, the most you see each other is when you are going to bed. But even then, there is a chance one of you might be asleep before the other gets home.

Some of Mingyu's fondest childhood memories came from the outdoors. His father created fond memories of going out fishing, which Mingyu aspired to do with his future children. He also loved the moments his friends decided to rent out a cabin and spend a week together. That experience brought all of them closer.

And that was something he wanted to experience with you.

While you loved the effort Mingyu put into the relationship and looked out for your well-being, you were hesitant. Not because this was technically your first trip as a couple. You were excited for that part!

Unlike Mingyu, you never understood the allure of the woods. You were always drawn to city life where things were fast-paced. Being outdoors slowed down reality in ways you weren't sure how to cope with. You also weren't the biggest fans of all the bugs.

Mingyu was still determined to make this the best trip possible.

The two of you had been driving from the city nearly all afternoon. The sun has completely dipped behind the mountain but still painted the sky in dark hues of blue and purple. You could somewhat make out the landscape around you, but it made you more eager to be in the arms of your loving boyfriend as soon as possible.

"I think this is it!" Mingyu proudly announced.

You looked ahead to see the cabin Mingyu rented out for the next several days. It was made out of cherry-colored wood with the railing of the porch painted green. There was a set of stairs that led down to the dock which connected to the river. Mingyu would definitely be intrigued to go down in the morning.

"It looks so cozy. What a great pick, baby."

He smiled wider at your satisfaction. Everything Mingyu did was to satisfy you. You were his everything.

"Come on, we better get inside before it's completely dark. Who knows what lurks out there."

Your eyes widened before you began to scramble out of his car. Mingyu couldn't help but chuckle, but he also felt a bit guilty. This trip was about making memories with you. He didn't want to do anything to risk you not enjoying your time.

Once out of the car, the two of you headed towards the trunk of his vehicle. You were about to retrieve your purple duffle bag, but Mingyu beat you two it before you could even reach forward.

There was rustling beside you which caused you to jump. Mingyu smirked a bit when you moved closer to him. Any sign that you trusted him and needed him boosted his ego. He made sure to put the strap of his own duffle bag over his head so it hung at his side. His left hand held the strap of yours, so his free hand was free for you.

Instead, you wrapped both of your arms around his arm. He leaned down to plant a lingering kiss on your forehead before escorting you inside the cabin.

Luckily, the owner of the cabin texted Mingyu all the directions on how to enter. And by some miracle, he didn't break the smart keypad.

Your shoes found their temporary home by the front of the door. Slowly, you detached yourself from Mingyu to explore the cabin. The front of the cabin was like its own sunroom with a view of the river. You knew you'd appreciate it a bit more in the morning when you can see it clearly with your cup of coffee.

Mingyu had already migrated to setting your belongings in the bedroom. You began to follow, but also at a more leisurely pace. Your eyes bounced around the living room. There was a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall with a couch and two recliners. Eve though you knew you and Mingyu would be cuddling either way and not need as many seating options.

The kitchen was an open floor concept with a generous amount of counter space and a kitchen island. You two had stopped for food on the way to the cabin, so you weren't particularly hungry. A trip to the grocery store was in order which excited.

One of your favorite things to do with Mingyu was to cook. Or mainly to watch him cook. It was one of the qualities of Mingyu you adored. You loved watching his tall stature over the stove. He was really in his element whenever he was in the kitchen. You couldn't help but also stare at the way his arms would flex when doing the simplest of techniques.

You were about to join your boyfriend in the bedroom when a pair of hands stopped you in your tracks. If it was in any other scenario, you might've jumped. However, you could always recognize the loving touch of your beloved.

"How did you know I was about to come find you?"

Your head tilted back so you could look up at Mingyu. He smiled wide when he was able to look into your eyes. Often, Mingyu compared your eyes to two lost gems. He had never seen a color quite like yours which made him want to stare into your eyes all day.

"Lucky guess, pretty girl," he chuckled. His lips pressed against your temple which caused you to flutter your eyes shut at the feeling. It was such a simple, sweet gesture but one that nevertheless got your heart racing. You leaned back into Mingyu's chest where he took the opportunity to wrap his arms fully around you.

"You know, there is one thing I forgot to mention." "Uh oh," you began. "Don't tell me you forgot something or broke something already. We haven't even been here for 5 minutes!"

He wanted to look at you as if he had been hurt. However, he knew his track record of causing chaos whenever he simply looked at something. And there is no way he could be mad at his girl knowing him so well.

"Surprisingly not yet. But there is a hot tub here, wanna go break that in?"

Kim Mingyu is the only person who could convince you to get in a bikini at the beginning of spring. When it was still chilly and where layering your clothing was recommended.

Loving Mingyu was something you thought only existed in films. It was refreshing to be embraced by someone who loves you unconditionally. Even on the busiest days, he came home to be the man you needed. You two balanced each other by both being silly and being there to support one another during the trials of life.

It made you want to leap into his arms while also being there to hold him when he needed you. He was your everything.

And, staring at the man before you, you knew you made the right decision in saying yes to his offer. You had slipped into the bathroom to get out of your clothes. Mingyu went out to set up the hot tub, so it was all warm and ready to welcome you.

He had already slipped into the hot tub. His clothes had become a pile on one of the chairs. His arms rested along the back of the hot tub. Underneath the moon, he glistened. The honey tone of his skin made you salivate, wanting to shower him with your attention and affectionate.

He was all yours.

"What are you waiting for, pretty girl?" He teased you. "Seem a little distracted tonight. Let me come help you."

You bit your lip, unable to stifle the giggle caused by his antics. You were standing on the desk with a white fluffy towel wrapped around your clothes. You had another towel for Mingyu, going to rest it by his clothes for later. You took a step closer so you were by the edge where the deck met the hot tub.

Mingyu had pushed himself off of the edge of the hot tub so he could make his way over to you. The water stopped by his waist, not giving away but also leaving little to the imagination as the water was still a bit clear. He smirked with confidence, knowing you were eyeing him.

His hand extended out to you, so he could help you in the hot tub.

Slowly, you untucked your towel and let it drop onto the wooden deck. You shivered from the chilly air hitting your exposed skin, but also from Mingyu's gaze on you. Your nipples hardened and goosebumps rose on your skin. Mingyu's eyes marveled at you. Underneath the moon, you glowed. He was starstruck. This was always how he looked at you, like it was the first time he got the privilege of seeing you naked. You just kept getting more beautiful every single time. He noticed the pink flush on your cheeks which made his heart race. How could someone be so sexy yet so adorable at the same time.

He helped ease you into the warm water, not wanting you to accidentally slip. He would catch you regardless. You sighed gently as the warm water hit your skin and instantly relaxed your muscles. You were having a hard time remembering when you felt this at peace. There was no impending deadlines, no late night cals with the office. You were just here in the moment with the man you loved the most.

"I love seeing you like this." "Naked?" You laughed. "I mean, yes, I love being the man that you feel comfortable around to be this vulnerable. But I love seeing you content."

Smiling up at Mingyu, you wrapped your arms around his torso. He pulled you fully in his arms as he reclaimed his position in the hot tub. It was like he was sitting on his royal throne with you, his queen, accompanying him.

Once straddled his lap, so your arms could fully wrap around his neck. Your fingers drove through the hair at the back of his head, causing Mingyu's eyes to flutter shut. His hands squeezed your hips appreciatively. His biggest weakness was feeling your touch all over his body. It could be as simple as holding his hand in public to intimate moments like this. Any time he felt you presence, he was reassured this was all real and not some cruel dream.

His thumbs circled your hips, causing you to melt into him. The slight shift in your body caused you to rub against his cock. His breathing hitched gently as he looked down at you, biting you lip. You didn't think much of it until you felt his cock pressing up against your boner, making your crave him even a completely different way.

"Really?" You teased. "Can you blame me?" He rolled his eyes.

You could feel his hands leaving your hips towards your ass. You smiled at the feeling, loving whenever his hands ran all over your body. His hands fully cupped your ass, giving it a light squeeze.

"I am simply just a man with everyone's dream girl. Who is also naked. It's really human nature, baby." "Seems like we should do something about that. Wouldn't want you to perish in agony."

He chuckled lightly before his lips began to fall all over his face. His lips first pressed against your forehead lingeringly. With his hands on your ass, he gently rocked your back and forth against him. You could feel the side of his cock brushing against your pussy lips, occasionally the tip of his cock hitting your clit. That would send jolts of pleasure and excitement running through your part.

Even though the actions were starting to become more sexual, his kisses remained innocent. His lips moved from your forehead to the side of your nose, then your cheeks. He couldn't fight off the smile that curled on his lips whenever he felt your cheeks rise from your own smile. His lips then moved to peck yours before trailing down your neck. That was when your own fingers gripped his hair, causing him to let a moan slip.

He pressed gently kisses against your neck until he felt your breathing hitch. Jackpot. That was when he began his full attack on your neck. He sucked a lovely bruise into the side of your neck. His teeth grazing against the spot which made your back arch and chest further press into his. God, he loved the feeling of your body against his.

It's been far too long since the two of you have been intimate like this.

He wanted to take his time with you, to cherish you. He wanted to make up for the weeks of late nights, missed moments shared together, and simple kisses before bed or work. Mingyu wouldn't necessarily say he was needy, but there was no doubt he needed you.

"Baby," you whispered out.

It was as if you were afraid if you spoke too loud, the moment would be lost. It was really just the two of you that seemed to exist.

There were other cabins around, but the best part you learning about being in the woods was the space between you and everyone else. You and Mingyu had the opportunity to just get lost together, with one another.

He let out a light hum before grudgingly moving away from your neck. He took a moment to marvel at his work. There certainly would be a hickey there come the morning. And the best part is that you wouldn't try to cover it. Mingyu was always proud whenever he got to show off his adoration to you, whether it be through something physical like a hickey or doing something to make you feel special.

"Yes, my love?" "Just fuck me already."

Mingyu's eyes widened in surprise. You had never been so direct with him in the moment. He knew he sometimes gets too carried away in the foreplay, edging you for what felt like hours. To him, he would edge you for however long as possible if it meant getting you wet and ready for him. He was always afraid of harming you.

"Baby, are you sure? I won't tease this time, I promise. I don't want to hurt you."

Your sweet Mingyu. You smiled at him reassuringly before both of your hands reached forward to take a hold of your face. With him looking into your eyes, you saw all the love he has for you. Your thumbs caressed his cheeks affectionately, maintaining eye contact so he knew you were serious before getting too lost in the moment.

"I am positive that I want you to fuck me into oblivion right here, right now in this hot tub. We've gone weeks without sex," you pouted. "I just want to feel so close to my boyfriend. Is that too much to ask?"

Fuck, he was down bad for you.

"Not at all, darling, but are you sure you're wet enough?" "Mingyu, you are the most attractive guy I've ever seen and I'm lucky to call you mine. I'm always wet around you." "Okay, needy baby."

Without needing much other persuasion, he moved your body so your pussy hovered over his cock. With your assistance though, you aligned his cock with your pussy. You both let out a groan at the relieving feeling of being so close to one another. His hands momentarily left your ass to hold onto your hips. He squeezed them once before helping you ease down onto him.

The water helped ease the stretch of Mingyu. It was a delicious stretch, but nevertheless, one you haven't experienced in a while. Mingyu's cock filled you up in the best way, with a slight curve of his cock fully pressing against your g-spot when he was all the way inside.

"You okay, darling?" "Perfect, Gyu."

He smiled in satisfaction before pressing a kiss to your temple. His sweet girl. All his.

His hips moved downwards before he began to settle into a deep, slow pace. He groaned at the feeling of your wet pussy. It was amazing to him that he had no hard time distinguishing the warm water from your own juices. He just knew you that well. Your walls hugged him, welcoming back home.

Your head tilted back slightly which gave Mingyu access to planting more hickies along your neck. His hips began to snap harder as he wanted to die you everything you've craved the past three weeks. He let his tongue run along the old hickey before settling on the new ones.

Moans were falling out of your lips subconsciously. You just couldn't control yourself nor did you want to. You wanted Mingyu, and quite frankly anyone, to hear how good he makes you feel. Your one hand remained on the back of his head, fingernails grazing along his scalp. Your other hand moved to rest on his bicep. You got wetter at the feeling of his arms flexing.

"Yeah, baby? You feel that good that you turn into my little girl?" "Yes, daddy," you whimpered. "Missed you, missed your cock." "God, I've missed you so fucking much."

His hips picked up the pace, going faster and harder. The tip of his cock kissed your cervix which had you already seeing stars.

He pulled back from your neck to watch you. He loved the way your fingers clung onto him. Your cheeks were almost permanently flushed with your eyelashes resting against your cheeks from your eyes fluttered shut. You never looked more beautiful than in his moment.

"Only one for me," he grunted out. "Only one I want and need."

Your heart was swelling from the sweet nothings he spoke to you. Even in the most sexual moments, Mingyu never wanted you to forget his love for you.

His own fingernails were beginning to dig into your skin, as your body trembled. You were lost in a trance from his thrusts were all you could do was moan out his name and other incoherent words. You were so fucked out, so far gone. All thanks to Mingyu.

He let out a sharp breath when he felt your pussy squeeze his cock. Your walls began to pulsate around him which caused him to throb more.

"Is my sweet girl close? Hmm? Do you need to cum?" "Please," you gasped out as one particular thrust felt like he slammed into your cervix.

I guess you were going to be the first thing Mingyu breaks on this trip. Not that you were complaining.

"Cum for me. Cum like the good girl I know you are."

Not needing to be told twice, you felt like you were exploding with euphoria. You came fast and hard, almost embarrassingly. It's just been so long without getting to be this vulnerable, this intimate with your boyfriend. One of you was just bound to break first. Your back arched and toes curled, body pressing all the way into Mingyu's to the point you two could just become one.

He let out a loud groan as he came along with you. Hot spurts of his cum filled your walls, throbbing to make sure every last drop filled you. You sighed in content at the feeling before your hold on him went limp and you buried your face into his neck. The two of you didn't dare move as you too much enjoyed the closeness of him at the moment. And Mingyu liked the idea of you not wasting a singular drop.

His fingers moved from your hips to run up and down your back comfortingly. Aftercare was so important to Mingyu, maybe even more important than sex itself.

"See? The woods aren't so bad, are they?"

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joelmillerisapunk · 3 months

Text

Late night devil put your hands on me

Sugardaddy!Joel Miller x F!reader

Masterlist ☆ Sugar Daddy Masterlist

Wordcount: 2,139

Warnings: 18+, male oral receiving, reader is blindfolded, unprotected p in v. I can not ruin the rest, but there's nothing triggering. If I did miss anything, please lemme know 🥰

Summary: Your sugar daddy treats you to a surprise trip, gifting you with three sensory delights: one for touch, one for smell, and one for taste.

Notes: I hope you enjoy your first trip sugar babies

You've been chatting with Joel for the past week or so, getting to know each other and exploring a mutual attraction. It's been exciting and a little nerve-wracking, but you're enjoying the rush of new emotions that come along with having a sugar daddy.

So, when Joel calls you up unexpectedly and asks if you want to go on an overnight trip, you're caught off guard. "Tonight?" You say, looking up from your desk where you're working on a graphic design project for a client. "But that's so soon."

"I thought the terms of our agreement were clear," Joel says, his voice low and commanding. "Spontaneity is key, and I’m already down here, waiting."

You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm, enjoying the rush of this commitment. "Okay," you say, a little cautiously, knowing you're going to be cutting the deadline close. "I'll go pack a bag."

You quickly gather some clothes and toiletries, your heart racing with excitement and anticipation. When you're ready, you head outside to meet Joel.

He's waiting for you by his car, blindfold in hand. "Just trust me," he says, as he gently ties the soft fabric around your eyes, heightening your sense of anticipation and your senses in general.

You feel the cool night air against your skin as Joel leads you to his car, helping you climb into the passenger seat. You hear the trunk of the car close, your luggage now secure. The engine roars to life, and you brace yourself for the familiar sensation of the car pulling away from the curb. As he drives, you feel the smoothness of the leather seats and the gentle hum of the engine. The drive is a blur of twists and turns. The sound of gravel crunching under the tires and the occasional rustle of leaves as the wind blows lulls you into a state of excited curiosity. You feel Joel's hand on yours, gently holding it as he navigates the roads.

After what feels like hours of driving, Joel brings the car to a gentle halt. He steps out, and you can hear the faint rustle of leaves as he moves around the car to open your door. Gently, he guides you out of the car, taking your hand in his. The air is crisp and clean, filling your lungs with the scent of pine and earth.

As Joel leads you forward, you can feel the ground beneath your feet change from smooth pavement to a softer, uneven terrain. Your senses are heightened, and you can hear the distant sound of a babbling brook and the hoot of an owl echoing through what you can only assume is a forest.

Finally, just as you're about to question yourself for letting a man you barely know willingly take you to the woods, Joel removes the blindfold, and you gasp at the breathtaking view that greets you.

The moonlit sky stretches out above you, a tapestry of stars twinkling like diamonds against the inky blackness. Below, the mountains loom, majestic and timeless, their snow-capped peaks kissed by the silvery moonlight. The world seems to stretch out before you, a canvas of endless possibilities, and you can't help but feel your heart swell in awe at the beauty of it all.

"Wow," you breathe, taking in the snow-capped mountains and the endless expanse of stars overhead.

Joel smiles. "I'm glad you like it, but there's something else I want to show you.” He takes your hand and leads you towards a cozy cabin nestled in the heart of the forest. As you approach, you can see the warm glow of lamplight spilling out from the windows, casting shadows on the ground.

Joel opens the door, and you step inside. The cabin is breathtaking, with soaring ceilings and exposed wood beams. The walls are adorned with vintage skis and snowshoes. In the center of the room, there's a large stone fireplace, the logs crackling and popping as they burn. The scent of burning wood fills the air, mingling with the faint aroma of vanilla and cinnamon.

"This is amazing. How did you do all of this?" You say, your voice filled with awe.

"I thought you might enjoy it here," Joel replies, his voice low and husky. "Now, come with me." He completely ignores your question, leaving you with more questions than answers.

He takes your hand and leads you towards the bedroom. The room is dimly lit. In the center, there's a large four-poster bed adorned with plush velvet blankets and rose petals. A bottle of wine and two glasses sit on the bedside table, along with a selection of chocolates and fruit.

"This is...incredible," you say, your heart racing with excitement.

"I wanted to make this night special for you," Joel says, his eyes dark with desire. He takes your hand and leads you towards the bed, where you take a seat. “Close your eyes and put out your hands, I have a surprise for you."

You do as you're told, and then you feel the weight of a small box being placed in your palms. “Okay, open.”

You look at Joel for a moment before taking in the beautifully decorated box. You're feeling a little nervous, but ultimately, your excitement outweighs it, and you dig into the box, opening it to see an extravagant gift - a delicate gold necklace adorned with more diamonds than you knew could fit on such a delicate necklace. It's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen, and you can't believe that it's yours.

“Joel, this is - it's beautiful. I don't know what to say.” You smile in awe, staring at the necklace.”

“May I?” He gestures to the necklace.

You nod eagerly, handing Joel the delicate necklace.

Joel carefully takes the necklace out of the box, holding it up to the moonlight to admire its beauty. He then turns to you, his eyes filled with desire and longing. He steps closer, his body just inches away from yours, and you can feel the heat radiating off of him.

His fingers gently brush against your skin as he reaches around to clasp the necklace. His touch is soft, yet firm, and you can't help but shiver with anticipation. His hands linger for a moment, his fingers tracing the curve of your neck before he finally clasps the necklace.

You can feel the weight of the necklace against your skin, the cool metal a stark contrast to the warmth of Joel's touch. He takes a step back, his eyes never leaving yours as he admires his handiwork.

The necklace sparkles in the moonlight, the diamonds catching the light and casting rainbows across your skin. Joel reaches out, his fingers gently brushing against it, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

His touch is intimate, and you can feel the desire building between you. His eyes are dark, filled with want, and you can't help but lean in closer to him.

Joel's hands are strong and sure as they move to your shoulders, his thumbs gently tracing circles on your skin. His touch is intoxicating, and you find yourself leaning into him, your body molding to his.

"Your next gift," he says, his voice low and husky, "this one is a little different. Close your eyes."

You do as you're told again. You can't believe this is even happening. How many gifts does he have for you? You feel Joel's hands leave your shoulders, and you can hear the rustle of fabric as he grabs it from a bag.

"Okay, open."

You open your eyes to see Joel holding a small, velvet box. You recognize it as the kind that perfume comes in, and your heart skips a beat with excitement.

This is a very special perfume," Joel says, his eyes dark with desire. "It's made with exotic ingredients, and it's said to drive people wild with desire. I want you to try it."

He opens the box, and you can smell the intoxicating scent of the perfume even from where you're standing. It's a rich, musky scent, and you can feel it already starting to affect you.

"Here, let me put it on for you."

Joel takes the perfume bottle and sprays a little on your wrist. You can feel the cool liquid on your skin, and then the heat as it dries. The scent is intoxicating, and you can feel yourself getting lost in it.

"Now, there's one more gift I want to give you," Joel says, his eyes dark with desire. "But this one is a little more... personal. How ‘bout you sit on the bed for this baby.” He takes your hand, guiding you to the edge of the bed. “Close your eyes.”

You do as you're told once more, and then you hear more rustling and zipping, and then you can feel Joel's hand under chin. “You've had a gift for touch, a gift for smell, now a gift for taste. Open your mouth.” He orders and places his thumb on your bottom lip, gently guiding it open.

“Good girl, now, stick out your tongue.” Joel's voice is low and husky as he speaks, sending shivers down your spine. You stick out your tongue and feel the weight of his expectations. You hear him shift closer to you, and then you feel the tip of his cock brush against your tongue.

You gasp in surprise, but Joel's hand is there to steady you, guiding you as you take him into your mouth. He's large and hard, and you can feel the heat of him against your tongue. You wrap your lips around him, feeling the soft skin of his shaft against your mouth.

Joel moans softly, his fingers tangling in your hair as he begins to move his hips. You follow his lead, your mouth moving up and down as you explore him with your tongue. You can taste the saltiness of his skin, the musky taste of his arousal.

Joel's thrusts start to become more urgent, his hips moving faster as he fucks your mouth. You can feel the tension building in his body. The muscles in his thighs are tensing as he gets closer to climax. Suddenly, he pulls out, his cock glistening with your saliva. He looks at you with a dark, hungry gaze, his eyes flashing with desire.

Before you can react, he reaches for the necklace, his fingers wrapping around the delicate chain. With a swift, brutal motion, he rips it off your neck, the clasp digging into your skin as he tears it away.

You gasp in surprise, your hand instinctively going to your throat to protect it. But Joel is beyond reason, beyond control. He's consumed by his desire, his need to possess you, to claim you as his own, his need for human connection.

He throws the necklace aside, the diamonds scattering across the floor like stars in the night sky. His hands are on you again, his fingers digging into your skin as he pushes you back onto the bed. Before you can think he's swiftly removing your clothes and his, and then you can feel the weight of him on top of you, as he climbs onto the bed like a wild animal on the hunt, you can feel the intense heat of his body as he covers you. His cock is hard and eager, probing at your entrance. You're wet and ready for him, your body aching with need.

With a thrust, he's inside you, filling you up. You cry out, your nails digging into his back as he starts to move. He fucks you with a raw, primal need that you've never experienced before, his hips slamming into yours as he drives himself deeper and deeper. You can feel the pleasure spiraling higher and higher.

Joel's thrusts become more urgent, his hips slamming into you with the fierce, desperate need of someone longing for any kind of connection. You can feel the bed shaking beneath you, the headboard banging against the wall as he fucks you with a primal intensity.

"You like that, don't you?" he growls, his lips brushing against your ear. "You like feeling me inside you, filling you up?"

You can only moan in response, your body trembling with pleasure as he drives you higher and higher. His words only serve to fuel your desire, to make you want him more.

"Tell me you want it," he commands, his fingers digging into your hips. "Tell me you want me to fuck you harder."

"Yes," you gasp, your voice hoarse with pleasure. "Harder, please.”

And with those words, Joel loses control. he drives himself deeper. You can feel the spiraling higher and higher until it threatens to consume you. "Come for me," Joel growls, his fingers digging harder into your skin. "Come for me, baby. Wanna feel you come apart beneath me."

And with those words, you do. You come harder than you ever have before, your body trembling with pleasure as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you. And with a final, brutal thrust, Joel comes alongside you, his cock pulsing deep inside your belly. You can feel the warmth of his release, the way it fills you up and completes you.

For a moment, there's nothing but the sound of your breathing, the feel of your bodies entwined. And then, with a gentle kiss, Joel pulls out, his eyes filled with a soft, tender love.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, his fingers tracing the curve of your neck. "I'll buy you a new one, but I want you to remember this moment - the way I made you feel the way you came apart for me. The way you belong to me."

You nod, your heart still racing from the intensity of your orgasm. Joel reaches down and picks up the broken necklace, his fingers brushing against the shattered gold.

"I'll make sure to get you something even more beautiful this time," he says, his voice full of promise.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #sugardaddy!joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #daddy!joel miller #joel miller x you

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humanpurposes · 5 months

Note

So thrilled you’re taking requests! I love winter themed fics this time of year. I’m requesting modern Aemond (if not allowed then Michael Gavey) + stuck in this cabin until the storm passes/come sit by the fireplace. As much smut as you’d like with maybe a teeny bit of angst?

Thank you for taking requests, I know they will all be lovely

A/n: Took the liberty of making this a Michael Gavey request 😈 Also this gif is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen!! Shoutout @barbieaemond and all the other amazing gif makers on here. These guys are such an integral part of fandom and they deserve all our love, appreciation and credit ❤️✨

Words: 2.9k

Warnings: 18+, slight angst, handjob, thigh riding (ish), Michael Gavey being awkard, but not quite a virgin

Main Masterlist

“Fucking skiing holiday. Should have fucking known this would be a fucking disaster.”

Michael’s foul mouth hardly phases you anymore. When you first met him you thought he’d be a shy type of guy, with his baby blue shirts, cargos and wire frame glasses he kept pushing up with his middle finger.

You’d quickly found that he wasn’t at all like you expected. He can be abrasive, often judgemental and vulgar, not so unlike your other friends but with Michael it seems to come from a place of unashamed honesty. You sort of admire him for it.

He’s pacing the small living room and kitchen of the cabin, furiously fiddling with his mobile. You’re kneeling by the wood burning stove, hovering a lighter by the kindling in the hopes that you can light a proper fire.

You’re surprised he agreed to go on this trip at all.

You have a few friends who do Maths, and at the start of second year they started inviting Michael to the pub on the weekends. You recognised him from your trips to the library, where he’d usually sit alone after his friend ditched him for Felix Catton.

They’d been all talking about a skiing trip between Christmas and New Year, to this little Italian village in the Alps. You didn’t— and still don’t— actually know how to ski, but spending a few nights in a cabin in the mountains, surrounded by snow sounded like a dream. Michael had been sceptical at first but you’d managed to convince him to come when you said you’d need someone to keep you company when the others were on the slopes.

The others had all gone out as soon as you arrived, leaving Michael to get settled in the cabin.

But it’s turned out to be somewhat of a nightmare. It’s too dark to actually see the snow storm but you can hear it, shrieking and howling against the walls and windows of the cabin. You have no service, no central heating, just the small assortment of snacks you had brought with you, a packet of paprika crisps, a bar of chocolate and a prosciutto sandwich you’d bought back at the main resort, back down the mountain, back in civilisation.

“Fuck, fuck fuck!”

“What now?” You ask, still focused on the fire.

“Mobile’s fucking dead. Shit! I have a charger in my bag but the bloody electricity isn’t fucking working so I can’t fucking charge it!”

You smile to yourself as the kindling catches alight and the flames start to lick at the larger logs.

You glance over your shoulder as Michael tosses his phone on the sofa, runs his hands through his hair and catches his lower lip with his teeth.

“I have plenty of charge on mine,” you say, “I’ll turn it off to save the battery and we can see if the service is working in the morning?”

Michael stares at you for a lingering moment. He can be so intense sometimes, almost unsettlingly so. “You want us to stay here all night?” he says softly.

“People know we’re here. I’m sure someone from the resort will come up when they can. Until then, we just have to wait out the storm.”

He tuts, but he knows you don’t have any other options.

You sit together with your backs against the sofa so that you can be as close to the fire as possible. The heat pleasantly burns your face and skin through your jeans and jumper. Even then, where your arm presses against Michael’s, you feel the warmth of his body beside you.

You grab the crisps and the sandwich out of your bag, offering them both to Michael. He only takes a handfuls of crisps and when you split the sandwich in two he takes the smaller half. You offer him more of the chocolate bar but he insists he’s not hungry. You frown at that. It might not be a Crunchie, but Michael never turns down chocolate.

“How was your Christmas?” You ask, popping a square of chocolate on your tongue.

“Fine,” he says, looking down at his hands, “had dinner with my dad and my nan, went to see my mum on Boxing Day.”

Guilt twinges in your chest. “Are your parents not together?”

“Oh no, they split up a long time ago,” he says, like it should have been obvious.

“I’m sorry.”

He turns to face you, staring intensely. “Why would you be sorry?”

“Because I didn’t realise.”

He smiles. You think it’s because he knows you’re nervous. “I’ve been splitting Christmases between my parents every year since I was twelve, I’m well used to it now.”

The topic doesn’t seem to phase him. He takes another crisp from the packet and looks into the fire as he crunches it between his teeth.

The low light reminds you of the nights you’ve sat opposite him in the King’s Arms in Oxford, all the times you’ve been tipsy off wine spritzers and found yourself trying not to make it obvious that you’re staring at him. He’s handsome, especially up close when you can see the details of his face, his lips, his surprisingly pretty eyelashes, the little cleft on the tip of his nose.

When his eyes turn towards you, you think your heart might leap out of your chest.

You take a quick breath, eyes darting around the room, at the fire, the pile of logs beside the stove, the sprinkling of ashes on the floor, but it seems inevitable that you’ll find your way back to him.

“Why did they split up?”

Michael raises his eyebrows but keeps his face solemn. “She left him for someone else.”

“Oh,” is all you can think of to say.

“It happens,” he says. “People always want to find something better. My dad was never the most exciting guy to be around.”

“But what about you?”

He huffs a laugh to himself. “I’m not exactly enticing company either.”

You can’t tell if you just want the conversation to end or if you should say something else.

“It’s not something I can fix,” Michael says. One of his hands rests on his thigh and he slowly flexes it so the tendons shift beneath his skin. “And it’s not something that needs to be fixed. People come in and out of your life, but you move on. That’s just the way it is.”

He’s almost hunched over himself, with his chin tilted down and his glasses sliding down towards the end of his nose.

You’d seen him in the pub once, back in first year, with that friend of his, Oliver Quick. Oliver had gone up to the bar and ended up sitting with Felix Catton and his band of admirers. You’d watched Michael leave the pub and remember your heart shattering for him, for this boy you didn’t even know.

Now, stuck in this cabin, snow swirling past the windows, the sound of the fire crackling a few feet in front of you, and Michael’s side pressed against yours, your heart shatters all over again.

You place your hand over his, and he instantly stops moving. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re great.”

Michael tries not to smile. “You don’t need to flatter me,” he says.

You curl your fingers over his hand and tighten your grip. His eyes meet yours and you feel yourself frowning, because he doesn’t understand, because he doesn’t see himself the same way you see him.

“I mean it. You’re funny, even when you don’t even mean to be, and honest, and straightforward…”

You glance down at his lips, slightly parted as he listens to you. It crosses your mind to lean in closer, but something stops you.

“I really love that we’re friends,” you say.

Michael looks down at your hands. His lips are pressed together.

He doesn’t want this, you think. He doesn’t want me.

So you pull away, with a little smile to keep it friendly.

He blinks a few times as he looks back at your face. “Thanks,” he says, softly.

He stands, and you don’t think you can bear to look at him as he moves towards the hallway that leads to the bedrooms.

You turn your attention to the fire, add another log for good measure and poke at the glowing embers in its heart.

You hear movement behind you, footsteps and fabric.

When you look back you see Michael has his arms full with pillows and blankets. He layers some of the blankets on the rug, and soon he has two makeshift beds, one on the sofa and one on the floor.

“What’s this?” You ask.

“We’ll freeze in the bedrooms without the heating, we might as well make use of the fire.”

It’s a good call, and now that you have somewhere to sleep you start to realise how tired you are.

You rummage through your suitcase and pull out a pair of pyjamas you got for Christmas. Michael changes in one of the bedrooms and comes back in one of his maths pun t-shirts and a pair of red and black bottoms.

You go to lie in the bed on the floor but Michael puts his hand on your shoulder and insists you sleep on the sofa.

Even with the heat of the fire on your face and the blanket pulled up to your chin, you can’t stop shaking. Your limbs are frozen and your skin is tight, but it feels deeper set than that. You feel the cold in your chest like a fever.

It feels like hours have passed and you still can’t sleep.

“I can hear your teeth chattering,” Michael’s voice grumbles below you. You peer down over the edge of the sofa. He’s turned away from you, towards the fire. You hadn’t even realised he was still awake.

“It’s fucking cold,” you say, wincing at the quiver in your voice.

Michael shifts to his other side so he’s facing you. You’ve never really seen him without his glasses, and he looks completely different, somehow softer, not as harsh.

“We’ll be warmer if we, if we share,” he says quietly.

His suggestion weighs heavy in the space between you, unless it’s just in your head. You can already imagine yourself pressed against him, feeling the warmth from his body and letting it sink into yours.

You don’t trust yourself not to try something stupid either.

You take the blanket with you. The floorboards are piercing against your bare soles so you step on the balls of your feet, quickly slotting yourself by Michael’s side, on the layers of blankets.

He’s facing you now, your noses must only be inches apart and you feel his breath running over your cheek.

You try to steady your own breathing, but it only makes your heart beat faster.

You see his neck move as he swallows. “Come here,” he mutters, and brings his arm around you, pressing his palm to your back to pull you closer into his chest.

You let your arm drape over his side and your legs intertwine with his. You need the heat, tucking your head in under his chin and resting the side of your face against him.

You move with the rise and fall of his chest, breathe in the scent of him with every breath, hear his heartbeat against your ear.

If you shifted your head slightly, your lips would meet the base of his throat.

Want tightens and lingers in your stomach, but curled up under Michael’s arm, you let its dull ache soothe you to sleep.

You wake slowly, opening your eyes to cold sunlight glaring through the windows. In your haste to get warm last night, you had apparently forgotten to draw the curtains. All you see on the other side is white, the snow now settled and piled high.

The fire has long since died and the air is colder than it was when you fell asleep, sharp as you take a breath through your nose.

It’s still warm where your cheek meets Michael’s chest, where his hand rests against your back and your bodies are pressed together.

It feels good to be so close to him. He’s still asleep, as far as you can tell. You hear the heavy sound of his breathing, air fluttering in his throat and passing through his pouted lips.

As you start to become more aware, more awake, a warm wanting stirs in your gut and between your legs.

It’s a stupid little crush, one you’ve not been able to distract yourself from these last few months.

You start to trace your fingertips over his chest, feeling where his chest is hard, then soft, and remember everything you said to him the night before, and what you perhaps should have said.

You nuzzle your face in closer to him, to the clean scent of his t-shirt and something else that is so uniquely him.

You try to stay like this for as long as possible, even if it’s torture not to want more.

“You’re moving a lot,” he mutters. You feel his voice rumbling in his chest and humming against your head like it’s a part of you.

Only when you freeze do you realise you’ve been rocking your hips, every hint of friction you get against the fabric of your pyjamas only fueling your hunger. But you’ve stopped now, resting your palm against his stomach.

“I’m cold,” you say.

“Hmm,” he says, resting his lips and his chin against your head, over your hair, “I don’t feel cold.”

The low rasp of his voice only makes you want him more.

The lingering haze of sleep must be clouding your judgement, your sense.

You tilt your head up, brushing your lips over his throat like you’d imagined. You feel him shudder, and feel his stomach tighten under your touch.

He utters your name in a breathless whisper as he paws at your back and pushes his hips into yours. His arousal is evident, hard and pressing to your centre through two layers of fabric.

And then he pauses, and his hand slips away.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he says.

You drag your hand down a little further, to slip under his t-shirt and feel the ridges of his surprisingly toned stomach, just above the waistband of his bottoms. “Why are you sorry, Michael?”

“I don’t know, I just…” he huffs in frustration as his hand returns to your body, gripping at your waist through your shirt.

You start to snag your fingers on the waistband, and realise he’s forgone wearing any boxers to bed. “Do you want me to help you?” You whisper, unable to hold back a grin.

“Yes, fuck, please,”

A whine sounds in his throat as you shift his bottoms down just enough to free his cock, and close your hand around it. He’s bigger than you expected, long and thick, heavy, hard and soft-skinned as you stroke, up, down, up, down.

You enjoy the feel of him, run your thumb over his weeping tip as he starts to pant and try to hold back his moans, leaning against you and ghosting his lips against your temple.

You only feel yourself becoming more and more desperate. You hook your leg over his, grinding your core against his thigh. Sparse sparks of pleasure course through your body, not enough for a release, but it still feels good.

You tilt your head again, eagerly pressing your lips to his. He seems taken by surprise at first, but meets you with clumsy enthusiasm. He kisses you like it might save him from something. Once or twice he seems to lose track, dragging his lips to the corner of your mouth only to pull you back into him.

The movements become more and more frantic, your hand pumping Michael’s cock, his hips bucking under your touch.

“Fuck,” he hisses against your lips, “I’m close. Fuck, I’m so close.”

You rock particularly hard against his thigh, and he brings his hand to your rear, squeezing at your flesh and urging you on.

You tease your lips against the shell of his ear, smiling at the wanton noise he makes as he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

“Are you gonna cum for me Michael?” You whisper as you up the pace.

“Please,” he grunts, “please…” and suddenly he’s moaning against your skin, holding you tightly as you feel his cock pulse in your hand as he spills over your fingers and knuckles.

You quickly move your head back so you can look at him, eyes fluttered shut, jaw slack and tongue just peeking out from behind his teeth.

“You’re so pretty,” you say quietly.

He blinks his eyes open, looking down at you with a dazed smile. “You think I’m pretty?”

“So fucking pretty,” you say, with another drag against his thigh.

He hums, low and cryptic in his chest. “Do you need some help there?”

Before you can answer he’s slipped his hand underneath your pyjamas. He cups your bare, wet cunt, lightly circling over your clit with the tip of his finger.

“Fuck you’re soaked,” he mutters, all but teasing your lips as he leans in to kiss you. “Got yourself all worked up, hmm?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, “fuck, don’t tease me, please…”

“Now, sweetheart,” he coos as he presses more firmly against you, hastening his movements so your breath catches in your throat. “We might still have a few hours before anyone comes to get us, and I can think of more than a few ways to pass the time.”

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joelscurls · 7 months

Text

to the ends of the earth

pt ii of feel it in your bones | epilogue

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 12k

summary: You spend the week of Spring Break in Austin with your long-distance-boyfriend Joel. As you settle into a comfortable routine together, questions regarding your future arise.

warnings: 18+, minors dni, no outbreak, age gap (reader is in her late 20s, Joel is in his late 40s), fluff, angst (ik ik i’m sorry), smut, phone sex, masturbation (f, m), semi-public touching, unprotected p in v, squirting, creampie, soft dom!Joel, hair pulling, tiniest bit of nipple play, implied oral (f receiving), brief mention of shower sex, use of pet names (darlin’, baby, etc.)

a/n: i’m honestly so overwhelmed with all the positive feedback I got on part 1 - thank you all so much! there will be a part 3 in the form of a lil epilogue, so stay tuned for more of these two! as always, ty to @caffeinated-validation for giving this your eyes <3

Long distance sucks.

It’s been six months to the day since Homecoming Weekend, five since you and Joel put a label on things: “exclusive”. Not like you’d been talking to anyone else. Since Joel left Vermont that first time, he’d occupied your mind, made a home there, nestled deep between grooves of soft brain matter.

He’s been back a couple of times since. Quick weekend trips — much like the first one — just without the bad art and couch surfing. And each time he’s come and gone has been more painful than the last. More memories to reminisce on when you lay in bed alone. More words exchanged to drown in. You feel as if your heart has been ripped apart and stitched haphazardly back together every time he slips from your embrace.

The last time you’d seen him in person was New Year’s, when you’d rented a cabin in the Green Mountains, watched Joel react to his first snow, exchanged I love yous for the first time under falling flurries.

It feels now as if it were a lifetime ago.

It’s never enough — time, kisses, touches. It’s all so fleeting. You want, more than anything, to burrow into Joel’s chest and make a permanent residence there. To go with him where he goes, be with him where he is, always.

But you know you can’t — it’s not realistic. You have your life here, and Joel has his there. You remind yourself of this fact more times a day than you’d like to admit.

You will be with him again soon enough, though, and for the longest stint of time yet. An entire week in Texas, you and Joel.

The thought of it keeps you going in the leadup to spring break.

It’s the night before your flight, an early-morning departure from Burlington International Airport. You’ve waited until the last minute to pack, so here you are, hovering above your suitcase — which lays sprawled out on your bed — aimlessly throwing pairs of underwear and t-shirts into the main compartment.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand. A much welcomed distraction.

And then you notice that it’s Joel calling.

Your heart skips a beat. You answer. Put it on speaker-phone.

“Hello?,” you purr, flopping down on the small empty space on the bed.

“Hi baby,” he drawls, his voice so sweet and saccharine it makes you melt. “All packed?”

“Yeah,” you lie. “I’m ready.”

“Me too,” he says. “So ready. I miss you.”

“I miss you,” you parrot. “How was your day?”

He sighs. “Fine, I guess. Had a bunch’a loose ends to tie up at this site before Tommy takes over for the week. A lot’a back and forth on the phone, orderin’ shit.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I hope you won’t be stressed all week thinking about it.”

He hums, so deep it vibrates through the phone. It goes straight to your core. “Impossible, babygirl. Once I have you here, ‘m not gonna be thinkin’ ‘bout anything else.”

Your face heats. An unignorable pang of desire swells in your chest.

“Joel,” you say, desperation already coloring your voice.

“Yeah?”

“I need you.”

Phone sex has become somewhat of a norm for you and Joel, that overwhelming need to be close to one another manifesting as desperate touches of your own fingers and half-coherent pleas through the speaker. It’s rare that a bedtime conversation between the two of you doesn’t end in panting down the line, telling each other goodnight through labored, satiated breaths.

Tonight, your need for him is bordering on carnal, carving into your skin like a sharp blade. You know you’ll have him tomorrow, and a number of days after that, but still, it feels so intangible, unreal. Like you can’t let yourself fully believe it until he’s in your arms.

And so you need him — right now — in any way you can have him.

“You wanna touch yourself?”

“Yes Joel — please.”

“Fuck babygirl,” he breathes. “Okay. Lemme take care’a you.”

You slip your fingers under the waistband of your sweatpants impatiently. You feel yourself through the thin fabric of your panties and, unsurprisingly, you’re soaked. It’s like you’ve been pavloved — like all you need is the sound of Joel’s voice, soft and deep like crushed velvet, and you’re gone — every single time.

“I’m so wet,” you mewl.

Joel groans on the other end. He sounds almost pained, like not being there to feel you, to taste you, is physically hurting him. If it is though, he covers it up well, snapping his attention back to you like a reflex.

“You still got your pants on?,” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Take ‘em off for me. And your panties.”

You do as he says, pulling your sweatpants and underwear down in one tug, letting them bunch at your ankles.

“They’re off,” you say.

“Good. Now touch yourself baby, go ahead.”

You shallowly dip two fingers into the pool of arousal that’s formed between your thighs. Then you glide slick digits over your aching clit, back and forth, a quiet whimper slipping from your mouth.

“‘ts it, darlin’,” he coos, “rub that pretty pussy for me.”

You pretend your fingers are his — bigger, rougher — as you increase the pressure you’re applying and begin to rub tight circles against your clit. The thought of your touches being his, instead, leaves you failing to swallow back a moan.

“Joel – ngh – it feels good.”

“‘Good, baby,” he says. “Doin’ so good for me.”

You keep going, your breaths becoming increasingly uneven, your hips inadvertently canting off the bed in an attempt to create more friction. You can sense that you’re dripping onto the duvet below you, staining it with your arousal. You’re way past caring at this point — you just need to cum.

You bring your other hand between your thighs, teasing your entrance. You sigh when you find how much wetter you’ve gotten in just a few minutes. You’re sure Joel must be able to hear the lewd slickslickslick of your fingers swirling against your sopping cunt — which he confirms when he curses under his breath.

“Fuck; that all for me, darlin’?”

“Mhm,” you moan.

“Gonna fuck yourself with your fingers for me? Cum all over ‘em, imaginin’ it’s my cock, instead?”

“Yes,” you cry. “Please, Joel, need your cock so bad.”

“I know babygirl, I know.”

You push two fingers inside as deep as you can get them, crooking them against your walls until you find that spongy spot. You fuck yourself in time with the fingers rubbing your clit, your pace reflexively increasing when you start to feel that familiar warmth growing in your abdomen.

You feel it build, up up up — and then it falls, fading completely.

“Fuck,” you murmur.

You don’t relent. But again and again, even with the perfect amount of pressure applied to your clit and the fingers in your pussy curved just right, you find your orgasm just out of reach. You let out a frustrated whine, your movements stalling completely. You can’t get there, not like this, not alone.

“Joel,” you punch out, “need you to touch yourself. Need you to cum with me.”

He inhales a sharp breath through his teeth. “Fuck, sweetheart — okay.”

You hear a faint clink of his belt on the other side of the phone, followed by the telltale whir of a zipper. There’s rustling over the line. When you hear him sigh, you know his cock is in his hand. And then there’s a shift in his breathing, subtle, but enough that you pick up on it. Evidence that he’s started stroking himself.

“Shit,” he hisses. “Miss that perfect little cunt so bad, baby. Can’t wait to fuck you again. Gonna ruin you.”

You love when he talks to you like this — when he loses himself in it and his tongue works faster than his brain. You’d never imagined when you first met him, reserved, quiet Joel, that he could be so filthy.

“Tell me —“ you plead — “tell me how you’re gonna fuck me, Joel.”

“Fuck, gonna get you in my bed, burry my face between your legs until you’re beggin’ me to stop…”

“Shit,” you gasp, your fingers stuttering at his words.

“‘N then ’m gonna fill you up with this cock, make you go dumb on it, fuck you so good your eyes roll back in your head.”

You whimper. You know he’s not just all talk from experience, and the thought of him fulfilling all these promises so soon has you plummeting toward the brink. As long as he keeps going, keeps talking, you’re not going to last another minute.

“Gonna make you soak it, make you cum all over my fuckin’ cock. Fuck — swear ’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

You feel your orgasm approaching again. But it’s not waning, not this time. You chase it, letting Joel’s words run on a loop in your head: gonna fill you up with this cock, gonna make you feel so good, bury my face between your legs until you’re beggin’, gonna make you go dumb on it, gonna make you feel so good, so good, so good…

“So close Joel,” you breathe. “So fucking close.”

“‘ts it, darlin’”, he says, his voice strained. “‘m right behind you — shit — let me hear you cum. Wanna — ahh — wanna hear you.”

That’s all it takes, just his encouragement, and you’re cumming so hard the room spins.

You can faintly register Joel talking you through it, able to make out a string of good girls through ringing ears. When you finally start to come down, you can tell he’s nearing his own climax, panting down the line as your own breaths begin to even.

“Please Joel,” you beg. “Please cum for me.”

He lets out a low growl, and then your name is spilling from the tip of his tongue, over and over again, in between strangled moans.

The line is quiet for a moment, apart from you and Joel’s shallow breathing.

“Fuck,” he says when he’s recovered from his orgasm, “how many hours til you get here?

You laugh. “I don’t know — too many.”

“Yeah, too many,” he agrees.

There’s another lull. You yawn exasperatedly, only now realizing how exhausted you are. An earth shattering orgasm will do that to you, you guess.

Joel chuckles on the other end.

“Go to bed, baby. It’ll make the time go faster.”

You sigh. You don’t want to hang up. Don’t want to be without him again. But he’s right. He usually is — though you’d never admit it out loud.

“Yeah, okay,” you acquiesce after a moment.

“I love you,” he hums.

“I love you too, Joel.”

“Can’t wait to see you,” he adds.

You smile. You’re glad he can’t see you right now, can’t see how ridiculously giddy he makes you.

“Me either,” you say. “Goodnight.”

“Night, darlin’.”

You’re still grinning like an idiot when you hang up the phone. You lay there for a few minutes, just staring at the ceiling, willing time to move faster.

Eventually you peel yourself off the bed and finish packing. You throw in some lacy bras you know Joel will love — if you end up wearing any real clothes this week, that is. Then you zip your suitcase shut, toss it onto the floor somewhere, and slip under the covers.

You flick your bedside lamp off with a sigh, and begin your attempt to coax sleep. You are tired, but you’re more excited.

When you finally do drift off — at some ungodly hour of the morning — you dream of Joel, of his large arms wrapped around you, his honeyed voice in your ear. Tomorrow, he whispers, again and again. Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow.

You wake up the next morning with butterflies the size of baseballs in your stomach. You get to the airport unnecessarily early, make it through security in record time, and plant yourself down at your gate with a coffee in hand two hours before your scheduled departure.

Your body is practically vibrating in your seat, only partially due to the caffeine. Joel will no doubt still be asleep at this hour, so you shoot him a text to wake up to:

at the airport, all checked in. can’t wait to see you, cowboy <3

And then you send one to Sarah, who you know will be awake, her study-abroad trip to Cambodia meaning she’s probably studying or eating dinner right now.

On my way to see your dad; miss you! Can’t wait to hear all about your studies sometime soon :)

She almost immediately responds:

Yay! Miss you both so much! Yes, talk soon pls - lots to catch you up on. The professors here want me to stay forever (I won’t, dw, need to be able to bother you and my dad on a more regular basis).

You laugh to yourself.

Sarah had been thrilled when she’d found out about your relationship. Had been way too proud of herself for setting you up. When you’d learned she’d faked sick the night you met Joel at the art exhibition, you’d found yourself unable to feign disapproval. How could you care, really, when you’d ended the night straddling him, kissing him?

Not that you’d told her that, of course. She didn’t need to know every detail of that weekend.

It had been…interesting, to say the least, navigating a long-distance-something with the father of one of your students. But Sarah hadn’t pried, even when you’d suspected she wanted to. She’d let it bloom into something more, something real, before beginning to pester you with the questions: isn’t he the worst cook? do you think you guys will get married? can I be your maid of honor if you do?

To which you’d responded: yes (affectionately), I don’t know, and of course you can.

You’ll miss her this week, but another part of you — a more selfish part — is thrilled to have a week alone with Joel, without any distractions.

So thrilled, you can barely steady your shaking hands enough to plug your phone into the outlet under your seat.

You scroll mindlessly on social media as it charges until it’s time to board. Then you’re shuffling single-file down the aisle of the plane to your row, hauling your suitcase into the overhead, and taking your seat next to the window.

It’s your first flight of two, separated by a three-hour layover. You make it to Philadelphia in just over an hour, halfway through the cheesy 2000s rom-com you’d selected on the inflight entertainment screen. You make a mental note to finish it on the next leg.

You get lunch once you’ve tracked down your new gate — pay seventeen bucks for a soggy airport sandwich and a bag of chips that, upon opening, is mostly air. When you sit down to eat, you notice that Joel texted you back.

Got one foot out the front door already. Can’t wait to see you babygirl.

You can’t help the embarrassing smile that pulls across your face.

You re-read the text no less than ten times before you board your next flight — then once more for good measure just before you put your phone on airplane-mode and shove it in your sweatshirt pocket.

This is it, you think as the wheels lift off the ground and the clouds come closer into view. No more countdown. It’s here.

You have to refrain from sprinting off of the plane as soon as it’s landed in Austin.

You grab your suitcase from the overhead with reckless abandon, nearly knocking another piece of luggage out of the compartment and onto a passing flight attendant.

“Shit, sorry,” you curse.

She glares at you, unamused.

“I’m just…I’m meeting someone here,” you ramble. “I guess I wasn’t paying attention. Too excited.”

She nods. Pops her gum. “Mhm. Have a good day, ma’am. Thanks for flying with us.”

You keep your head down as you disembark.

It’d been a packed flight, and so you find yourself weaving through the crowd that’s gathered at the gate as you exit, around parents who have stopped to tie their kids’ shoes and solo travelers pausing to book their ride shares.

You check your phone as you walk, unwilling to waste even a fraction of a second. Find the directions buried in the text thread between you and Joel detailing how to get from your terminal to the passenger pickup area.

You follow them, suitcase rolling behind you as you trudge along, down a couple escalators and through a corridor.

You round one last corner — and then you see him, standing with his back to a pillar, hands anxiously fiddling at his sides.

Now you are sprinting.

Your suitcase is abandoned somewhere behind you as you run toward Joel. He doesn’t see you at first. You make it a few feet, shoes squeaking on tile, before his head snaps up and his eyes catch yours. And then he’s bounding forward, meeting you in the middle, your bodies colliding, hard.

He throws both arms around you, squeezes you so tightly you think your blood vessels may burst. You accept your fate willingly, breathing him in, letting your hands rove along his broad back.

He smells like pine and worn leather and Joel.

He feels like home.

He bruises a kiss in your hair, whispering against your scalp in disbelief: baby, you’re here.

You stand wrapped up together for a long moment, Joel rocking you back and forth as you catch your breath. Then you pull apart to look at each other.

Only then does it begin to sink in — Joel is right in front of you, touching you — and you’re about to spend a whole week together.

“C’mere,” he drawls, grabbing both sides of your face and crashing his lips into yours. It’s a slow kiss, punctuated by gentle strokes of his fingertips along your jaw. Your tongue rolls against his and your fingers anchor into his shirt collar. It simultaneously feels like it lasts forever and not nearly long enough.

“C’mon,” he whispers against your lips when you part. “Let’s go home, darlin.”

You grab your forgotten suitcase and pull it behind you with one hand, the other in Joel’s as you walk to his truck. It’s parked just outside, at the curb, hazard lights blinking.

“Was supposed to wait here for you,” he explains as he opens the passenger door, helping you in. He takes your suitcase, throws it onto the backseat like it weighs nothing.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” you smile as he gets into the driver’s seat. “Felt like a rom-com — I liked it.”

“Yeah,” he says, turning his key in the ignition. His cheeks flush. “I liked it too.”

You stop for fast food on the way to Joel’s — Whataburger, naturally. They don’t have these in Vermont, so you try to savor your burger, but your long day of travel has you ravenous, so you wolf it down, ketchup smearing on the corners of your mouth between bites. Joel just laughs at you from the driver’s seat, piece of lettuce lodged between his front teeth.

You get it for him — fingernails prodding at his gums, but he lets you. Even sighs at the contact. When you flick the leaf off your fingertip, he pulls you in for a kiss, much softer than the one you shared in the airport, but dizzying, nonetheless. “Better?,” he whispers, and you’re not sure if he’s asking about his teeth or you, but both are true, so you hum affirmingly.

You sink back into your seat, adjusting your seatbelt where it’s tightened around your neck.

You feel full and drowsy as you throw your trash into the paper bag the food came in, tucking it by your feet.

You let your head rest against the window. The glass rattles against your skull as the truck begins to move, but you ignore it, too tired to care. And then you let your eyes shut — just to rest them — that’s all.

You don’t remember falling asleep.

You come to when you feel Joel at your side, trying to move you from the passenger seat.

“Baby,” you hear him say. Your eyes flutter open. He brings a hand up to your face, peeling stray strands of hair from where they’re stuck to your forehead and pushing them behind your ear.

“We’re home,” he drawls. “Let’s go inside, yeah?”

You nod groggily, still letting your eyes adjust to the daylight. You take in your surroundings: you’re parked in his driveway, his house right in front of you. Somehow, it’s just as you’d imagined it to be — big, sprawling porch at the front, meticulously kempt yard ornamented with a beautiful red oak tree. It’s so Texan, you think, so Joel.

He grabs your luggage from the truck. Then he helps you out, walks you with a large hand wrapped around your middle to the front door and into the house. Once inside, he sets your suitcase down.

And then he hugs you again, like he’s afraid to let you out of his embrace, lest you vaporize into thin air.

“Still tired? Wanna take a nap?,” he asks.

You yawn, right in his ear. He laughs; that’s enough of an answer.

“Alright,” he says. You follow him to his bedroom, too sleepy to argue. You pass through the kitchen and living room on the way. Through drooping eyes, you notice scattered pieces of Joel — the guitar leaning against its stand next to the couch, the pictures of him and Sarah lining the staircase. It makes your chest tighten, being here in his house, seeing the parts of him that he can’t bring with him when he visits you.

His room is the most him though — masculine and minimalist. A canvas with a ram painted on it hangs above his bed — a gift from someone, you assume. You can’t exactly imagine Joel strolling the aisles of Target, picking out artwork to hang in his house. There’s another photo of him and Sarah on his bedside table that must’ve been taken at her highschool graduation, cap adorning her head full of curls.

It makes you smile — all of it.

You lope over to the bed, climbing in when Joel pulls back the covers for you. He tucks you in with a kiss to your forehead. His duvet wafts his scent, when you pull it up to your face. You inhale it deeply. Commit it to memory.

“Wait,” you say as he turns to leave the room. “Aren’t you going to stay with me?”

He leans against the doorframe, wood creaking under his weight. “Well I don’t really nap, darlin’,” he admits. “You get some rest, I’ll just be doin’ some stuff around the house.”

“Please,” you say, sticking out your bottom lip at him. You watch as he thinks on it for a minute, then sighs in defeat.

“Okay, I’ll nap with you baby.”

He climbs in next to you. “Only for a little bit, though,” he mumbles, like he’s trying to convince himself.

His broad chest presses into your back. He drapes an arm over your side as you nuzzle into his embrace, so warm, so safe. He noses at your neck, leaving gentle kisses along your exposed shoulder. This, you think, is what heaven must feel like.

The sound of Joel’s breathing lulls you to sleep.

When you wake up, the room is cast in shadows. It’s dusk, you realize, wiping the sleep out of your eyes. You roll over. Find that Joel is no longer next to you.

His side of the bed is still warm, you notice, so he must not have gotten up too long ago.

You clamber to your feet, ignoring the blood rushing to your head as you stumble out of his room. You make your way down the stairs, hand braced against the wall as you descend. The lights are on in the living room — a sign of life. But Joel isn’t there.

You wander into the kitchen. He’s not here either. Did he leave the house? You look around for a note, fish your phone out of your pocket to see if he texted you. But you have zero notifications and the dining table is empty, apart from a pair of salt & pepper shakers and a napkin holder.

You call out for him, to no avail. Stumped, you make your way to the door that leads to the garage, the only room you haven’t checked yet, and wedge it open.

To your surprise, you find Joel standing at the back of his truck, loading something into the bed. Upon further inspection, you see that it’s blankets.

Huh?

“Hey,” you announce, making your way down the small set of stairs. He whips around at the sound of your voice. The color in his face drains, like he’s just been caught in the act of something.

“Darlin’,” he says, eyes wide. “You’re up.”

You join him by the truck. Let him rest a heavy arm on your shoulder. You peer up at him with a quirked brow. “What are you doing out here?”

“Well, I uh, I had planned somethin’ for you. Not sure if you’re up for it?”

You look back at the blankets in the truck bed. It’s not just blankets, you discover. There are pillows too, big ones, like the kinds you put on patio furniture, plus a small radio situated in the corner. And there’s a bag of chips leaned up against one of the pillows, next to a box of your favorite candy.

“A picnic… in your truck?”

He laughs. “Not quite. There’s a drive-in movie theater down the road. Thought we could go.”

Those butterflies from this morning suddenly return, swarming your insides at the realization — Joel planned a date for you.

It’s not that he isn’t normally romantic, because he is.

You recall one particular weekend he’d visited — he’d insisted on cooking dinner for you at your apartment, determined to make it perfect for you. He’d ended up burning the chicken and oversalting his sauce, but you hadn’t cared one bit — not when he’d gazed at you so adoringly across the candlelit table, one of your hands in his as he’d peppered each of your knuckles with kisses.

On another visit, he’d scouted one of the only nearby mountains you hadn’t hiked yet and climbed to the top with you — because the internet said this was the best spot to catch the sunset. You’d stood at the lookout, hand in hand, and shared your greatest dreams — yours to have your research published in a major publication, his to leave contracting behind and buy a sheep ranch. And when the sun had dipped behind the horizon, the sky bleeding vibrant pinks and oranges, he’d just looked at you.

So you know he’s romantic. Still though, you’re practically swooning at the scene in front of you.

“So, you wanna go?,” he asks. He scuffs his boot along the concrete floor, awkwardly. “It’s okay if you d-“

“Joel,” you say. “I wanna go.”

He smiles. Rolls the cover over the truck bed. Presses a kiss to your temple.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

The sky is dark by the time you get to the drive-in. There are already quite a few cars in the dirt lot, parked in neat rows facing the giant movie screen that sits at the edge of a treeline. There’s a person directing traffic, a teenage boy, you guess, based on his stature, and he twirls his light-up batons in the rearview as Joel rounds the corner to the back row.

He backs into a spot at the far-left, car to your right parked a good ten feet away. And then he cuts the ignition with a quiet grunt, steps out, and makes his way over to your door to open it for you and help you down.

The pillows in the truck bed had jostled around a bit on the drive over, Joel finds when he unfurls the cover. So he adjusts them, making sure everything is just right. Then he unlatches the tailgate and helps you hoist yourself up, following closely behind you as you crawl toward the back.

Once he’s set the radio to the right channel, Joel sits with his back flush to the truck cab and spreads his legs, patting one of his thighs in invitation. He doesn’t need to ask twice — you immediately crawl between them, letting your head fall back against his chest as he wraps his arms around you, enveloping you in him.

A satisfied hum escapes your lips. The realization hits you then that you hadn’t even asked what movie you were seeing. Not that you care much — it could be a documentary about grass, and you’d still have a good time, thanks to the company.

It’s some dystopian sci-fi thriller, you find, as the opening credits begin to roll, with a title you vaguely remember hearing in passing at some point.

And it’s good. You’re invested in the story by the end of the first act, curious to find out how the main character is going to save her love interest.

But then you lose interest, quickly, when you feel the white-hot touch of Joel’s fingers against your skin as he slips them under your shirt, inching down your stomach.

He halts when he gets to the waistband of your jeans, and your breath hitches, lodged somewhere in your throat when he dips one finger under the denim. Your hips lift reflexively and he laughs lowly in your ear, prompting a shaky exhale to sputter out of you.

“Stay still, darlin,” he whispers, slipping another finger into your pants.

You try, you really try not to move, but he’s teasing you, his fingers moving the pace of molasses toward your core, where he hasn’t touched you in months. You feel like your entire body is going to combust if he doesn’t make contact with your clit in the next five seconds.

You whine, quiet enough that it’s muffled by the sounds of the movie echoing from the radio, but still too loud for Joel, apparently. He reaches his free hand out to turn the volume up, pushing the nob a few decibels higher.

He returns his attention to you. “You want this, babygirl?,” he asks, fingers reaching the hem of your underwear.

“Yes,” you whisper pleadingly. “Please touch me, Joel.” You feel his cock stiffen behind you, prodding your back.

“Okay,” he says. He pulls his hand out completely to unbutton your pants and unzip them halfway. Then he’s cupping your sex through your panties, letting his fingers brush over the wet spot that has already formed.

“Gotta be quiet then,” he purrs. “Can ya do that for me?”

You’re not sure you can, to be honest. He’s barely touching you and you already feel like you’ve lost all control over your body. Whatever it does, however you react — you have no say in the matter. Still, you’re not about to tell him that, risk him stopping, so you nod, furiously, your desperate face illuminated by the flashing light of an action sequence playing out on screen.

He dips two fingers into your underwear, immediately pressing them to your seam. He curses under his breath behind you, clearly pleased with how wet you are for him, with how easily he breaks you down. He brings them up to your clit, then, swiping back and forth, back and forth, his calloused touch forcing you to suppress a yelp. His fingers feel so rough compared to yours, so good. Breaths are pouring out of you in quick succession, your chest heaving with pleasure.

You’re briefly paranoid as Joel continues his ministrations that someone might see — but as you glance around the parking lot, you realize that you can’t see anyone else, just shadows in cars and on folding chairs, all focused on the movie in front of them. Slouched within the walls of Joel’s truck bed, it’s impossible for anyone to clock what’s happening.

So you let your body relax, melting into Joel behind you, your hands clinging onto his thighs to hold yourself steady. “‘ts it baby,” he says, your pliancy encouraging him to press his fingers down harder. “Always so good for me, huh?”

“Y-yes,” you stutter, your voice still hushed.

“Yeah, you are” he agrees, rubbing your clit faster, more deliberately. He knows by now just how to touch you — exactly how to bring you straight to the edge and send you toppling over. And it’s clear that time apart hasn’t affected this in the slightest, your abdomen already tensing, familiar coil tightening threateningly in your core.

You warn Joel with a squeal. His free hand flies up to your face, covering your mouth in an instant. Your eyes roll back instinctively at the lewdness of it, of him muffling you with his palm. You moan freely against it, teeth scraping the skin there as your orgasm grows nearer and nearer and nearer.

It hits you hard. You have to bite down on Joel’s hand to keep from screaming out as it scorches through you, heating every inch of your skin as it does. Your fingernails are digging into Joel’s legs so hard you think you may be drawing blood even through thick denim. He talks you through it, quietly, his utters of atta girl, look at you, ya cum so pretty for me baby keeping you tethered to reality.

When your breathing begins to even and the trembling in your thighs subsides, he removes his hand from your mouth and the other from your pants.

You gaze up at him through bleary eyes just as he brings the fingers that were pressed against your pussy straight to his mouth, sucking on them through a satisfied hum. He pulls them out slowly, and your body nearly buckles at the sight.

“Taste so sweet,” he whispers in your ear. “Always taste so goddamn sweet.”

Your head swims.

“Joel,” you say, pointedly.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“We need to leave. Right now.”

He cocks his head at you, confused. “Are you alr-”

“I’m fine,” you cut him off. “But I need you to fuck me right now, and I don’t think we can do that here.”

You see his eyes darken, his jaw twitch.

“Yeah,” he says after a few seconds. “Let’s get out of here.”

Joel speeds the entire way home.

The hand he doesn’t have on the wheel grips your thigh, making you dizzy with desire by the time he pulls into the driveway. He lodges the passenger side door open so hard you’d think there was an emergency (maybe needing to fuck your significant other after months of not seeing them in person does constitute as an emergency, though — who’s to say?).

He unbuckles your seatbelt for you, barely letting your feet hit the pavement before his lips are on you and he’s slamming the truck door shut, caging you against it. It feels like he’s everywhere all at once, his tongue sliding along your jaw, down your neck, across your collarbone. You’re panting by the time he pulls back, begging him in not so many words to bring you inside and pound you into the mattress.

It must take you five whole minutes to get from the front door to his room. Joel’s hand is splayed across the globe of your ass as you walk. He stops you every ten feet to spin your around and kiss you again, sucking on your tongue, needy moans slipping from his parted lips. His shirt has been discarded by the time you get to the stairs, and your hands greedily take in every inch of skin they can reach as you make your way up step by agonizing step.

When you finally make it upstairs, he backs you through the threshold, straight to his bed. You tumble down onto the mattress in a heap, mouths melding together in desperation as he reaches a hand behind you, under your shirt, and unclasps your bra. You help him out, reaching up your sleeve to tug down one strap, then shifting your weight to pull down the other. When you move, he follows you, not letting his mouth part from yours a second sooner than it needs to.

He tugs the bra the rest of the way off your body and pulls your shirt up over your chest, revealing your bare breasts. Only then does he unlatch his lips from yours so that he can admire you.

“More gorgeous every time I see you,” he mutters, rolling one of your nipples between two fingers until it hardens under his touch. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp. He leans down, lathing his flat tongue over the sensitive peak, eliciting a heady moan from you.

“Joel,” you cry beneath him, a hand coming up to his shoulder. You push against him lightly.

And he gets it — as much as he loves teasing, now is not the time. You’ve been teased enough by the miles between you and him. So he pulls back. Lets you roll him over. You straddle him, bracing your hands on his chest and experimentally roll your hips. You immediately feel his hard cock straining against his jeans underneath you.

You reach between your bodies then, prying open his button and yanking the zipper down. Then your hand is in his pants, tracing the outline of his heavy cock where it bulges under cotton.

You lean down and press a kiss to his clothed length. He hisses through his teeth.

“Baby,” he groans, hand coming down to tilt your chin up towards his face. “Another time. I need to be inside you. Right now.”

You don’t argue. He sits up. Shuffles back to the headboard, bringing you with him. He pulls your shirt the rest of the way off, over your head. And then he’s helping you slip out of your jeans and panties so that you’re completely naked atop him.

He pulls you in for another bruising kiss as he tugs his pants and boxers down, just enough to free his leaking cock. He strokes it languidly, smearing pre-cum from the tip down his length. You’re already impatient by the time he’s lining himself up with your entrance, so much so that you have to refrain from taking him all the way down in one go. You use your better judgment, sinking onto him slowly, until you’re flush with his pelvis, the hair at his base tickling your inner thighs.

His eyes are squeezed shut, his breathing labored as you adjust to the size of him. You’ve missed the sweet, burning stretch of him, the fullness you feel when he’s inside you, like you’re complete, whole. You’re pretty sure you could stay like this forever, make a home here on his throbbing cock.

When the sting dissipates, you begin to move, rocking on top of him. He grabs onto your hips, steadying you, his eyes blinking half-open to take you in.

“Fuck,” he rasps as you set a steady pace, his cock disappearing from you, then filling you to the brim again and again. “‘ts it baby, take my fuckin’ cock; ridin’ it so good.”

His hips snap up, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs. You wrap your hands around his neck reflexively, digging your nails into his shoulders, indenting crescent moons in the muscle there as he ruts against your g-spot. Your face falls against his chest, your muffled pleas for Joel to fuck you harder, harder, right there barely coherent.

He gets the message regardless.

He pulls you down onto his cock, essentially spearing you on it. You think he must be bruising your cervix, the way his thick head is repeatedly bumping it, but you don’t care. You need every inch of him, need to take everything he has to give you; it feels as essential as the air being punched out of your chest right now.

He’s fucking up into you so brutally that you find yourself delirious, eyes rolling back in your head for the second time tonight. You can’t even find the strength to warn him of your rapidly approaching orgasm, your body going limp in his grasp. He doesn’t need you to, though — he can tell just by the way you squeeze him that you’re close.

“Gonna cum for me, baby?,” he growls, hitting that spongy spot over and over and over.

“Uh — ahhh — uh-huh,” you moan weakly into his skin. Your fingers loosen at his neck, too weak to hold onto him any longer.

Suddenly, he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head off of his chest and holding it up so that you’re looking him in the eye.

His gaze is lascivious, almost carnal, like going without you for so long has him ready to swallow you whole.

“Look at me,” he spits, “look at me when you cum.”

You nod wearily. You want to give him that, want to give him anything he asks of you. But you’re not sure if you can, not when your eyelids feel like boulders on your face.

“C-can’t Joel,” you manage through moans as they fall shut again.

“Nuh-uh,” he snaps, yanking at your roots. Your eyes fly open at the intrusion.

“You can do it baby, c’mon. Missed these pretty eyes so much — wanna see ‘em.”

You can only imagine how absolutely fucked-out you must look, using every last ounce of energy in your body to keep from slipping again. Your eyes glaze over slightly as he gives a particularly rough thrust, and you feel yourself skyrocket to the edge.

You feel like putty in his hands — and maybe you are. You’d let him mold you to whatever shape he pleased right about now, when he’s making you feel this good.

“There ya go,” Joel coos, bringing his thumb to your clit. He lazily swipes it once — twice — and you begin to fall apart in his arms.

It’s almost violent, your second orgasm of the night. It rips through you, your body thrashing on top of Joel’s, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as he continues pounding into you. It feels different too, something more intense lingering, the threat of it just behind your walls.

And then he hits that spot again, the one that makes you see stars, and you’re gushing around him. Your release splatters out onto the duvet below you, soaking it. If Joel notices, he doesn’t care.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he groans.

Your eyes adjust as you come to. You take in Joel’s, charcoal black and blown-out with lust. You feel shy, almost, which you know is ridiculous given he’s still inside you. But even so, the way he looks at you, like you’re the most desirable thing he’s ever seen — it makes your cheeks heat.

He flips you over onto your back in one swift movement, slipping from you momentarily as he helps you to wrap your shaky legs around him. Presses a gentle kiss to your trembling ankle as he does. And then he’s burying himself in you again, right to the hilt, his pace slowing as he nears the edge.

“Please baby,” you cry. “Please cum inside. Need to feel you.”

Your body feels boneless under Joel’s weight, like he’s fucked near everything out of you. And now you need him to feel good, to take whatever he needs from you, whatever you have left to give.

“Fuck,” he grunts. His hips stall abruptly. He spills into you, deep moans pulling from the back of his throat. You dig your heels into the meat of his ass, dragging him closer, forcing him so deep he paints your cervix.

He pulls out with a hiss, his length softening against your mound as he lifts himself up on his elbows to kiss you. It’s a meager kiss, both of you still too out of breath to deepen it, but it soothes you, along with the soft graze of his thumb over your ribs.

You hold each other for a while, in no rush to move from this moment. You’re pretty sure you drift off more than once, awoken each time by the vibration of his gentle hums against your neck. When you finally do move, it’s not far, just up the bed and under the covers. And then his arms are right back where they were, around you, pulling you tightly to him.

He falls asleep before you, snoring quietly at the crown of your head. You try to wiggle from his grasp, move to the other side of the bed, but even in his sleep, he’s acutely aware of your presence. He just grips you harder, nuzzles his head deeper into your hair. You’ve never felt more content being stuck somewhere.

You slip under again eventually. You’re pretty sure you dream of nothing — no need for your brain to conjure up anything more than what you already have.

The following morning, you wake up with Joel’s tongue between your legs. He nibbles at your inner thigh, waiting for you to give him the go ahead to continue. And then he makes you cum twice on his mouth before you even eat breakfast.

He doesn’t let you get up for that, either. He brings you hot coffee in a Texas Longhorns mug and a plate of toast, slathered with butter and grape jelly, and doesn’t complain when you get crumbs on the sheets.

You’re satiated and caffeinated before you even start your day — which Joel has planned out to a t.

He brings you to his favorite spot for lunch, a BBQ place by the river, and acts smug when you tell him these are the best ribs I’ve ever had in my life. Then you go home, take a shower — together, of course — and you rinse shampoo out of your hair with his cock nestled comfortably inside you.

He fucks you with your hands braced against the shower wall until you’re screaming, the echoes bouncing off of tile, and then you get back in bed, laze around in your towels until dinnertime.

Joel orders takeout — sushi for you, lo mein and teriyaki beef for him. You sprawl out on the couch as you eat, your feet in his lap and the calming buzz of the tv on in the background.

It’s the best day you’ve had in a long time.

You easily fall into a routine over the course of the week: wake up, fuck, eat breakfast in bed, fuck, get up around noon, shower, eat lunch, grade papers while Joel cleans up or does yardwork, eat dinner, fuck, go to sleep.

You almost forget that this isn’t permanent, that you’re going to have to get on a plane and go home soon, that this isn’t your home, here with Joel. That is, until Friday night, over dinner — when Joel abruptly pulls you back down to earth.

You’re finishing your pasta, spooning the last remnants of sauce into your mouth. Some western flashes across the tv — Joel’s choice, and as you put your bowl down on the coffee table and snuggle up to him, he sighs.

“This has gotta be the best vacation of my life — or, staycation, I guess.” He says it innocently enough. Still, you feel jolted. Vacation, you repeat in your head until your brain catches up with reality. You feel smothered, suddenly, warm, like your whole body is an ore about to be smelted. You extricate yourself from Joel’s arms and settle on the other side of the couch.

“Just hot,” you lie. “Sorry.”

“‘ts alright,” he murmurs, unphased, eyes glued to the tv.

He doesn’t notice the way you tense, the way your breathing picks up when you excuse yourself to the bathroom. But why should he? There’s no reason for you to be freaking out.

Except there is.

Because the thought of leaving in a couple days, leaving behind Joel and this routine, not seeing him again for several more months, and even then, only having a weekend, or if you’re lucky, a week with him – it’s making you spiral.

You lock yourself in the bathroom. Close the lid to the toilet. When you sit down, your head falls into your hands, heaving breaths warming the skin of your palms uncomfortably. I can’t do this, you think. I can’t keep doing this.

You love Joel — you do, more than anything. And you can’t begin to imagine living without him. But you also can’t help but wonder, elbows digging into your knees, how this has become your life — all the leaving.

Something heavy settles in the pit of your stomach. You feel nauseous.

You get up. Splash cold water on your face. Curse your reflection, all sunken eyes and tear-stained cheeks. So stupid. This is why you didn’t want to get into another relationship. The pain, the pain, the unbearable pain.

Why did you have to fall in love with him?

There’s a clanging on the other side of the door — Joel clearing your dishes from dinner — an act of domesticity that plunges the dagger deeper into your bleeding heart.

You wipe your cheeks with your shirt sleeve. Huff at how pathetic you feel.

It’s so stupid, so silly, crying in Joel’s bathroom when he’s right outside, right there waiting for you. Even still, you can’t seem to shake the dread that hangs over you like a storm cloud when you make your way back into the living room with dried eyes, back into his arms.

You hope, silently, that it’ll go away with a good night’s sleep. That this is just a minor breakdown, a hormonal thing, maybe, and you’ll feel better in the morning.

It doesn’t, it’s not — and you don’t.

Joel can tell something is wrong the moment he hands you your morning coffee. You’d slept in today, legs tangled under the sheets, trepidation still clawing its way up your throat. You’d been quiet, had only hummed in response when he’d told you good morning.

That, he hadn’t noticed. But when he passes you the mug, steam billowing from the mouth, he detects the way you won’t look at him, your mumbled thank you.

You catch the way he steps back with a dejected hmph, and rounds the bed to climb in next to you.

You feel awful.

The mattress springs creak as he settles, balancing his full mug in one hand, laying the other over yours where it sits on top of the duvet, resting on your covered leg.

“Y’alright?,” he asks, even though you know he knows the answer. It’s why you don’t lie, shake your head. Your eyes flick up to his as a frown sets under his nose.

You downplay it. “I’m fine, really. It’s just — I — I’m sad that today’s our last full day. I don’t wanna go home yet.”

“Don’t have to go,” he drawls, drawing light circles over your skin with his index finger.

And you know he means it — know he’d let you move in with him in a heartbeat. But you also know you can’t. Can’t leave behind the life you worked so hard to make in Vermont.

“I wish,” you sigh, taking a cautious sip of your coffee.

“Well…d’you wanna do somethin’ today? Go into the city? I know we haven’t done much’a anything this week.” He smirks. And just for a moment, the look on his face — that dopey smile and those sweet cinnamon eyes — makes you forget about the darkness fogging your mind.

“We can do touristy stuff,” he continues. “Do anythin’ you want. To take your mind off things. Make the most of the day, ya know?”

His brows are raised as he anticipates your response. He’s so eager to do whatever it takes for you to be happy, and that makes your chest clench. More than you want to protect your own heart, you want to appease him. He deserves that, at the very least.

So you say yes, let’s do it; show me around Austin.

The cracks in your heart deepen when he nearly jumps out of bed in excitement.

Joel is a great tour guide, for what it’s worth.

He brings you to his favorite hiking trail in the city. It runs along a lake, the water busy with kayakers and paddle boarders.

The sky above is overcast. A sliver of sun cuts through the clouds, casting your forehead in a light sheen of sweat as you walk.

Every single passerby waves at you or says hello, all in the same singsong twang. Joel waves back, grunts a greeting. It throws you off, how nice everyone is here. You’ve grown used to New England, with its temperamental weather and even more temperamental people.

“Busy,” you note when another group passes you.

“Mhm,” Joel hums. Wraps a sweaty arm around you, pulling you into his side. It’s awkward to walk like this, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “Sarah used to love this place. We’d come all the time when she was little.”

You lean into his embrace. Nuzzle your face into the fabric of his T-shirt.

“I know you must’ve missed her this week. Is this the first spring break she hasn’t been home?”

“Yeah,” Joel’s other hand rests at the back of his neck, fingers absently working at a knot in the muscle there. “Gotta get used to it though, I guess, with her stayin’ north after school is over and all.”

“She didn’t tell me that,” you admit. “When did she decide?”

He sighs so deep you can almost feel it in your own chest.

“Couple weeks ago,” he says. “Guess she got some unofficial job offer for after she graduates, from this research institute in Boston. She’s all excited about it.”

You know Joel is proud. He’s always proud of Sarah. How could he not be? But you also know his heart is breaking right now, the long-established plans for Sarah to come home to Texas, to come home to him after finishing undergrad, suddenly squashed.

And then there’s you — leaving too — again.

The thought of hurting Joel is overbearing, more so than the thought of hurting yourself. He doesn’t deserve to be so far away from the woman he’s in a relationship with when his own daughter is already out of reach.

You feel selfish, suddenly.

It plagues your mind for the rest of the day — when you go to a diner after the hike and split a strawberry milkshake the size of your head with Joel — and still, later, when you wander hand-in-hand into a tacky gift shop.

You try your best to ignore the ache in your chest as you scan the store.

The back wall is stacked top to bottom with cowboy boots of varying colors and styles. There are cowboy hats too, displayed on a long table.

Joel picks up an oversized straw hat, resting it on the top of his head with a laugh. “Looks ridiculous, right?”

“Somehow, no,” you say. And it’s the truth. You think he’s the only person who could put that thing on and look hot in it.

He grabs another hat off of the table, a more traditional one — brown leather with a braided band wrapped around the base of the crown. You let him affix it on your head. He steps back to get a good look at you and nods.

“Looks good. Looks sexy,” he amends.

“Yeah?” You dip your head in faux greeting, fingers pressed into the front corner of the brim.

He scans over you then, his eyes darkening. It looks like he’s pondering something, the corner of his mouth curving.

“What?”

He steps closer. Leans down to whisper in your ear. “Think we should get ‘em. Wear ‘em later.”

Your breath pulls. The thought of Joel wearing that and nothing but that underneath you is enough to make you forget your quandaries, temporarily.

“Yeah,” you respond way too quickly. “Let’s get them, Cowboy.”

You watch his entire body tense at the nickname. And then he’s yanking the hat off of you, bringing both to the register in a hurry.

The house is dark when you get home, bag of Greek takeout in hand.

Joel flicks a light on in the entrance. You squint reflexively, your eyes adjusting as you set the food down on the coffee table in the living room. Joel brings your new hats upstairs, then joins you on the couch. You pull out two styrofoam containers, passing the one with Joel’s name scribbled on it to him and leaning back with yours in your lap.

“‘m starvin,” he mumbles as he cracks his open, squeezes a wedge of lemon over his rice.

You eat quickly, something else clearly on both of your minds as you shovel falafel into your mouths. You even forget to turn the tv on.

When you’re done, you insist you’ll clean up, bringing the trash into the kitchen as Joel disappears upstairs. Once everything is tidied, you re-situate yourself on the couch.

He returns a few minutes later — shirtless, that ridiculous cowboy hat fastened on his head, dark jeans sitting low on his hips. He’s holding your hat in his left hand.

There’s a dull throbbing between your legs. He starts across the room, toward you.

“Joel-”

He cuts you off with a kiss, bracketing you against the cushions, his hat bumping into your head. He pulls it off immediately, like if it’s going to interfere in any way, it’s not worth it. It falls onto the floor somewhere behind him.

Joel pulls at the fabric of your shirt. Your back arches, allowing him to pull it up and off before tossing it aside. His mouth moves from yours, trailing lower, lower, and settling at the column of your throat. He sucks a bruise there, the contact sending your hips bucking off the couch, the need for him to touch you already borderline painful.

And then that voice returns, the one that’s been screaming in your head since last night.

This’ll be the last time for a while. Maybe forever. Last time he touches you like this, kisses you like this. Don’t think about it — don’t. Just enjoy it. Just-

“Joel,” you pant. He stops immediately. Pulls back.

“What? What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

Tears well in your eyes, blur your vision. You can barely make out the look of concern plastered across Joel’s face as he kneels down in front of you and grips both of your shoulders.

When you speak, your voice comes out shaky. “No, it’s not — I just.” Your breath catches in your throat.

“What? What is it darlin’?,” he tries, massaging tense muscle under his palms.

You hadn’t wanted him to see you like this. You feel embarrassed that he has to comfort you like you’re a child who’s just had a nightmare, and not a grown woman with a PhD. You groan. Catch your breath.

“Fuck. I’m fine,” you try. Joel clearly isn’t buying it. He quirks a brow at you.

“C’mon baby, talk to me. I wanna help, whatever it is. Let me in — please”

And you want to, you do, it’s just — you don’t know how to even explain how you’re feeling.

“This is all so hard,” you start. Joel nods. He wants you to continue. “This whole — situation,” you try. “Being long-distance. It’s just — being here for a whole week and waking up together every morning, having coffee, watching tv at night, like a — fuck — like a real couple — and now I have to go back to normal?”

His face falls.

“Real couple? Is this not real to you?”

“It is real,” you sob. “It’s too real. That’s why it hurts so fucking much. I just, I can’t —”

“Can’t what?” His voice is quiet. Low.

“Can’t do this. Can’t handle the pain. And it must be hurting you too, Joel. Between me and Sarah—”

“I’m fine,” he barks, suddenly jumping to his feet. He takes a deep breath. “This isn’t about Sarah. This is about us. Do you not want this? Me?”

Your hands tremble in your lap. “Of course I want you, Joel,” you sniff. “I want you more than anything. But-”

“But not like this. This is too hard.”

You nod weakly.

He sighs.

“You know you can move here — stay with me.”

You do know. He’s said it so many times before. But you’ve worked way too hard to pack up and start over, to give up your professorship after only three years with the blind hope that you’ll land a new position in Austin. And now you’re mad — infuriated, almost, that he keeps suggesting it.

You scoff. “You know I can’t just give up my life, Joel.”

“So what, you’re just gonna give up on us, instead?” His voice is strained.

“I’m not giving up,” you clip, defensively.

“Certainly doesn’t sound like you’re tryin’.”

He stares at the ceiling. You watch as his eyes mist, his concentration palpable as he wills the tears not to fall. Your anger dissipates into guilt.

This is exactly what you’d feared — breaking his heart. It’s like you can see it fracturing, chipping at the edges.

“I don’t want to,” you whisper. “I don’t — I don’t know. I just can’t.”

His face contorts. A single tear slips down his cheek, which he wipes away quickly with the back of his hand. “Fuck,” he curses.

You stand from the couch, begin to move cautiously toward him. “Joel, I-”

“Don’t,” he snaps. Throws his hands up defensively. And then he’s turning, heading up the stairs, leaving you standing there in the middle of the living room with a ringing in your ears.

When you climb into bed twenty minutes later, he doesn’t acknowledge you.

You fly home the next day. Joel doesn’t say anything on the drive to the airport.

Once there, he pulls over to the curb at the drop-off and puts the car in park. You’re not sure what to do — should you kiss him? Tell him you love him? Because you do, so fucking much. You’re just — not sure if he wants to hear that right now.

He makes the decision for you, cradling your face as he presses a gentle, lingering kiss to your lips. He lets his forehead fall to yours with a sigh, and then he pulls back.

He doesn’t open your door for you, though. Doesn’t grab your bags from the back when you clamber down from the passenger seat.

It’s as if he’s saying: I love you, but I’m going to give you space.

You pry open the back door. Pull out your suitcase and rest your new cowboy hat over the handle. You almost wish now that he hadn’t gotten it for you. It’ll just serve as another reminder of everything you’ve left behind once your home.

“Text me,” he offers once your things are all gathered on the curb. “Let me know when you board, when you’re home safe.”

“Yeah,” you nod. Search his eyes for something. Some indicator that he’s okay. But he’s stoic, his lips set in a straight line. “I will. Promise.”

His mouth opens, like he wants to add something else. But whatever he’s thinking, he decides against saying out loud. Instead he just tells you safe travels, and then he’s pulling the passenger side door closed from the inside.

You stand unmoving. As his truck disappears down the roadway and out of view, a list of all the things you should’ve said rolls through your brain like the end credits of a film.

You send Joel a message when you get home. Let him know you got in safe. You don’t call, like you normally would, because that’s not what he’d asked of you.

Then you climb straight into bed, still in your clothes, and let the tears consume you. You wallow in them for what feels like hours, the natural light in your bedroom gradually sinking into the floorboards. You welcome the nightfall, the way the darkness soothes the pounding in your head, the way it feels like nothing.

Morning comes before Joel responds. You’re rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, the time on your phone reading 11:09, and the notification from him just below it nearly jolts you:

Okay. Thanks.

No love you, no miss you.

You curse under your breath.

Why did you have to say anything? Why did you have to ruin this?

The pain of possibly losing Joel for good makes the pain of long distance feel like a papercut. All you want is to go back in time, take back everything you said, tell Joel you love him a million-and-one times. Anything to undo this.

You fleetingly consider quitting your job, handing in your resignation letter the second you get to campus tomorrow. You’ll take your unpacked suitcase and head right back to the airport.

You don’t let the temptation win. But it lingers, sits at the top of your chest like a threat. Like if he asks one more time — you’ll do it.

He doesn’t, though. In fact, he doesn’t say much of anything — which you should’ve expected — but it still stings. You hadn’t broken up, not technically, so you’re stuck in this weird limbo, one in which neither of you wants to talk about what happened in Austin.

Instead, you text each other once a day or so — weird, surface-level messages, ones you’d send to an acquaintance, not someone who literally knows you inside and out.

Finally above 60°, you say, on Monday morning, attached to a screenshot of your weather app.

Your walk to campus must’ve been nice today, he replies.

And the next day:

Guy at the job site today was talking about that show you like.

Parks & Rec?!

Yeah, that one.

It’s barely enough to keep you going, to keep you sane. You feel pitiful, looking forward to Joel’s text-of-the-day like it’s a re-up of your drug of choice. Better than heroin, you tell yourself.

Two weeks pass with no phone calls and minimal messages. It’s 5:45 pm on a rainy Tuesday when you sit at your dining room table with a pile of papers to grade in front of you, some low-fi playlist on in the background, unable to focus.

Because Joel hasn’t texted you all day.

Usually he’d send something by now. And it’s not like you hadn’t texted him — in fact, you’d double-texted, one message sent this morning about how you burned your tongue on your coffee, and another after your final class of the day when you’d seen he still hadn’t responded:

Busy day?

Your fingers hover over the keyboard, the gears in your mind whirring as you debate whether or not to send the words punctuated by a flickering cursor on your screen:

Can I call you later?

He’ll probably say no. Or worse, continue to ignore you. Maybe this is it — maybe weeks of dancing around residual tension have driven him to call it quits. He’ll block you, and then you’ll never hear from him again.

The thought has bile rising up your throat.

You close out of the app and put your phone down before stalking over to the living room, letting yourself fall stomach-first onto the couch. You stuff your face into a throw pillow and scream.

You almost don’t hear it over your muffled yells — the rapping at your front door.

You still, lifting your head from the pillow. Listening intently. It comes again — rapraprap.

Ugh, you groan, lifting yourself onto your elbows, then your feet. You pull your cardigan tighter over your front. Drag your feet across the hardwood to the entranceway, wondering who the fuck could be at your door on a Tuesday evening, unannounced.

Is it the property manager?, you speculate as you reach the door. Was there an issue with my rent?

Your fingers wind around the handle apprehensively. You peer through the peephole and your heart plummets into your stomach.

Because Joel is standing right outside your apartment.

You wonder if you’re seeing things. If you’ve gone full-on hysterical. But it’s him, it’s unmistakably him — in his favorite flannel and his workwear jacket, which is smattered in rain spots. His gaze is trained on the floor by his feet and his hands are fidgeting at his sides — just like the first time you met him.

You throw the door open. Joel’s eyes shoot up. For a long moment, you just stare at each other, waiting for the other to say something — do something.

When your breath pulls, he rushes forward and crashes his lips into yours. He backs you into your apartment, letting the door slam shut behind you.

You barely hear it, still registering that Joel is here, he’s here and he’s kissing the hell out of you. And just minutes ago, you’d been sulking on your couch, convinced it was over between you two.

You feel dizzy. You pull back, only because you fear if you don’t, you’ll literally topple over. Joel’s breathing is heavy — it matches yours.

“What are you — fuck — what are you doing here, Joel?”

“I need to talk to you,” he pants.

“Could’ve called,” you say, as if there’s any universe in which you’d prefer that.

You lead him to the living room. Fall back onto the couch. He sits down next to you, taking both of your hands in his. You get a good look at him for the first time since he’d barreled into your apartment, and he looks wrecked.

“Are you okay?,” you ask.

His response isn’t much of an answer. “’m selling my house.”

Your head spins. “You — what?”

“Listed it last week,” he says. “Already got a couple offers.”

“Oh,” you blink. “Okay.”

“‘m gonna move up here.”

Oh.

Your heart feels like it’s going to beat straight out of your chest. You’re — speechless.

“I put an offer on a place,” he continues. “‘ts a ranch with some land. Room for sheep. I’m sellin’ my half of the business to Tommy. Leavin’ Texas.”

He exhales. His eyes search yours with tangible desperation. “Say somethin’.”

“I — fuck, Joel,” you breathe. “You’re — when? How?”

“Found the place a couple days ago. ‘ts about thirty minutes Southeast of here. Just went and saw it in person. Sent my offer letter before I came here.”

“Right,” you nod. “But Joel, you can’t just leave-”

“Sure I can,” he interrupts. “Nothin’ there for me anymore. Not Sarah, not you.”

A beat passes. And then he adds:

“I can’t lose you.”

Your heart swells in your chest as you imagine Joel this past week, making all of these plans to rectify the distance between you, to be sure he doesn’t lose you. And still — you’re not sure if you deserve it after the way you hurt him.

“You — you still want me, even after what I said?”

“Darlin’,” he says, in that honey-sweet drawl. “I love you. There’s nothin’ you could do to make me not want you. You were right. This isn’t feasible. We can’t do this forever.”

“Joel,” you sigh, “I just — you’re sure you want this?”

“I want you,” he says plainly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world — like nothing else matters. “And you need to be here. So it’s a no-brainer”

The rain picks up outside. It patters against the windows.

“Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll leave,” he says. “I’ll retract my offer. Go back to Texas.”

“I do Joel — want you here more than anything, love you more than anything. But-”

“Good.” He cups your face in his hands. You stare into his eyes, your future.

“It’s settled, then,” he says, pressing his forehead to yours, his fingers twisting in the fabric of your shirt. “I’m movin’ to Vermont.”

“This is crazy,” you laugh. “I love you. So much.”

“I love you more,” he beams. “No gettin’ rid of me now.”

You smile so wide your cheeks hurt. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Cowboy.”

end notes: ty again for reading! pls consider reblogging and leaving a comment if you liked it <3

tagging everyone who expressed interest in reading a part 2 (lmk if you don't want to be included going forward): @anoverwhelmingdin, @joelalorian, @lol-im-done, @bensonispunk, @sereindreams, @survivingandenduring, @stevie75, @vee-bees-blog, @brittmb115, @casssiopeia, @bbyanarchist, @janaispunk, @barbellpedro

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel x reader #pedro pascal as joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #fiiyb

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queen-of-deans-booty · 4 months

Text

I'll Always Choose You

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.8k

Warnings: car accident, injured!reader, bitchy girlfriend, angst, fluff at the end

Request by @jessicalynnann: I’m requesting another one lol. Can I get a request where the reader and Jensen are best friends and Jensen is falling in love with her but his gf is really rude to her and makes him choose. Well the reader hears and distances herself… well Jensen realizes it is too late and the best friend is the one that makes him happy but the reader gets into an bad accident. You decided the ending. Thanks.!!!

Summary: Jensen is back in town with his new girlfriend and is hosting a barbecue to get together with everyone and catch up. This is the first time you're meeting her, and she doesn't take you to as kindly as she leads everyone to believe she is.

Square Filled: in vino veritas (2021) for @spndeanbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Jensen hasn’t even been back for more than a week and he’s already having a barbecue at his cabin in the mountains. He rents the place out every summer and invites everyone he knows to stay with him for the weekend. The place is big enough to house two dozen people and Jensen knows a lot of people. It’s been a few months since Jensen has been home since he’s traveling with his new girlfriend. You haven’t met her yet but you have talked to Jensen about her. He seems to be crazy about her so you’re not going to ruin what they have.

Yes, you have a crush on him. Yes, you love him. Yes, you’d do anything to make him happy. Yes, he is your best friend. No, you won’t do anything about it because he seems to be happy. What kind of friend would you be if you took that away from him?

Once you finish getting ready into a summer flowy dress, you grab the food you cooked and pile into your car. The cabin is located in the mountains up north so it takes you an hour to get there. There are already a bunch of people there but you don’t mind being later than everyone else. You pull into the driveway and see Jared’s car indicating that him and his wife are already here.

You let yourself into the house and enter the kitchen to place your food there when you see a young and beautiful woman. She must be Denise, Jensen’s girlfriend. You recognize her from the photos he’s sent you.

“Oh, hi. Denise?”

She looks you up and down as if she’s judging you.

“Yeah. You must be Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you smile.

“You have such a cute dress on. Don’t let the drinks ruin it.”

It’s the way she says this that makes ou suspicious. She seems a bit passive-aggressive like she doesn't like you. Instead of giving you a chance, she’s already decided that she doesn’t like you. You’re not going to let her ruin your night because you came here for one thing and one thing only.

“I can handle myself. Where is Jensen?”

Speaking of, your best friend walks inside the kitchen using the back door with containers of food in his hands. He looks at you and a big smile breaks out on his face.

“Y/N! You came!” He sets down the food and scoops you into his arms. You don’t miss the way Denise is glaring at you two. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

“Baby, you promised you’d show me around,” Denise says and pulls her boyfriend away from you. “Remember? You said you’d do it when you got done outside.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He turns to you. “I’ll be right back. Jared and Gen are outside.”

“Okay,” you nod.

Denise practically drags him away, leaving you all alone. You shake off this bad feeling you’re getting and join the others outside. Jared is talking to some guys off to the side while Gen is heping prep the table for the food. Joshua, Jensen’s brother, is using the grill to make his famous chicken on the other side of the backyard.

“Y/N!” Jared says a bit too loudly.

“Whoa, are you okay?” you chuckle and hug him.

“Yeah, I’m great.”

Jared has always been a light weight despite how tall he is. He definitely has the weight to keep the effects of alcohol away but he acts like he’s a hundred pounds when he drinks. It only takes a few drinks to really get him going.

“What number of drink is that?”

“Three?”

“You drink any more, you’ll bring out Doug. Do you really want to do that?”

“Probably not,” he chuckles.

You have fond memories of Jared’s alter ego coming out after he’s had too many to drink. The night usually ends in the cops being called but it’s memories you love to think about.

“So, I met Denise.”

Jared starts laughing at the tone of your voice.

“Yeah, everyone has that same reaction when they first meet her.”

“What is her problem?”

“I don’t know. She’s not the best person to be around but no one says anything because it seems like Jensen is happy. They’ve only been dating for a few months but they seem happy together.”

Jensen and Denise come back from the self-tour and you watch as she clings to his side even though he wants to go over to his friends and converse. He has a smile on his face that doesn’t quite reach his ears. He might be happy but it’s not true happiness.

“You don’t know him like I do.”

You leave Jared’s side to join Jensen’s. He has yet to tell you about his trip and now’s the perfect time to do that. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him, you just want to be around him. However, Denise sees you walking over to them and she tugs on Jensen’s arm to grab his attention. She leans in and whispers something in his ear that causes him to chuckle.

“Sure,” he nods.

They both walk off before you can get to them, and Denise looks back at you to gauge your reaction. You pretend like you weren't walking to them and veer to the right where Gen is. She says something to you but you’re not paying attention. You stare at the couple until they disappear around the corner of the house. Jensen didn’t even see you coming toward him.

You push down your feelings and enjoy the company of everyone else until dinner is served. Jensen took the seat next to you before Denise could pull him away so she is forced to take the other side of him. Everyone digs into the delicious food immediately and the conversation somehow gets on the topic of how stupid Jensen has been in his past.

“Once Jared told me I couldn't do it, I had to prove him wrong. I climbed up to the roof and got ready to jump into the pool.”

“I told him not to do it but he wouldn’t listen,” you chuckle.

“Yeah, so I got a running head start and jumped off into the pool. I made it in but it was shallower than I thought, and I broke my arm on the side of the pool.”

“You were a big cry baby,” you laugh and lean on his arm in laughter. “I held your hand the entire way to the hospital.”

“That you did,” he smiles down at you.

Denise’s jaw ticks in annoyance and jealously. She grabs her alcoholic drink and walks past you as if she is going to get a refil. However, she “trips” and she spills her entire drink all over your new dress. You gasp from how cold it is and stand up in shock.

“Oh, I am so sorry!” Denise apologizes.

“Shit, that’s cold!”

You look down at your dress to see the alcohol already staining your dress. You look at Denise and see the malicious intent in her eyes. She might be faking an apology but you know she couldn’t care less about this. She did this on purpose.

“Here, come with me. Let me clean this up before the stain sets.”

“Do you need me to come with you?” Jensen asks.

“No, I got this,” Denise chuckles.

She takes you into the cabin before you have achance to say anything. As soon as the door is closed, she becomes a whole other person. She drops the nice girl act and shows her true colors.

“I don’t know what your problem is, but stay away from my boyfriend.”

“My problem? What are you talking about?”

You grab some napkins to dab your dress without her help.

“You can play games all you want but he’s mine, and I’ll make your life miserable if you keep doing what you’re doing.”

“I don’t want him,” you lie.

“Please,” she scoffs and rolls her eyes, “I saw the way you were looking at him the entire night. Stay away from him or I’ll do more than pour alcohol down your dress.” She walks back to the door but pauses because she’s not done talking. “I am better than you in every way. You might be the best friend but I’m his girlfriend, and I always get what I want.” She gives you a sweet smile as if she didn’t just threaten you. “It’s nice to meet you though. Sorry about the dress.”

As soon as she leaves the kitchen, tears roll down your cheeks. You can’t go back out there looking like a mess so you dry your cheeks and your dress as much as possible before going back outside. Everyone is mostly done with dinner so they’re standing around instead of sitting. Jensen immediately walks over to you with a look of concern on his face.

“Hey, are you okay? I can pay for the dry cleaning.”

You look at Denise who is watching you with careful eyes. Jensen might genuinely be happy with her so you can’t take that away from him and tell him how rotten his girlfriend is. Plus, would he even believe you? Yes, you’re his best friend but would he believe you over his girlfriend?

“No, it’s okay. It was a misunderstanding,” you sigh.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

You excuse yourself and walk over to Jared who has been watching you three the entire night. He had two glasses of water at dinner so he’s sobered up some more. He sees the look of defeat on your face and nudges you arm.

“They won’t last.”

“What?”

“I don’t see them lasting another month.”

“Why would I care?”

“Come on,” Jared chuckles. “We all know you’re in love with him.”

“Shut your mouth, Jared,” you snap.

“What, am I wrong?”

You look at Jensen and Denise who are all over each other. She has her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands are low on her hips. You have to hold back your tears.

“It doesn’t matter how I feel. She clearly doesn’t want me around.”

“Give it time.”

Jensen and Denise walk into the cabin to do God only knows what, and you decide it’s best if you leave now. You don’t want to spend the night and have to hear them through the walls.

“As much fun as this whole thing has been, I should go now.”

You give Jared a side hug so you don’t get the alcohol on him.

“Good luck.”

You can’t leave this party without saying goodbye to Jensen. You’ll steal a couple of minutes and leave and that will be that. You don’t even have to give him a hug goodbye . You walk inside the house in search of your best friend. You walk past the kitchen into the living room where you overhear Denise and Jensen talking.

“What’s wrong? You were fine when we showed up.”

“I don’t like that you spend so much time with her. I’m your girlfriend who loves you.”

“She’s my best friend.” Great, they’re talking about you. How can you go in there now? It’ll only be awkward and you’ll give away that you’ve been listening. “We grew up together.”

“You’re with me now. Y/N needs to find someone she loves and leave us alone. I don’t want to be rude but it’s obvious she wants you.”

You can’t see Jensen’s face from where you’re at but you can only imagine what it looks like.

“You’re overreacting.”

“Do you have feelings for her? Is that why you’re being this way?”

You hold your breath and wait for his answer.

“Be this way? What are you talking about?”

“It’s me or her. Pick one. You can’t have both.”

You can’t bear the thought of hearing his answer because there is a chance that he might choose her. You quickly leave the room without hearing his answer and escape to your car. You shouldn’t have come. He has been with Denise for months across the world. He probably has a lot more fun with her than he does with you. He’s found someone to replace you with. You can’t fault him for choosing her. She can give him everything you can’t.

You peel out of the driveway and start the journey back home. Tears are flowing down your cheeks making it harder to see the road in front of you. It’s a particularly windy day so your car is slightly shaking; nothing you can’t control. It doesn’t help you’re driving in the mountains with no light except for that of your headlights. Through your tears, you don’t see the car on the other side of the roading coming straight at you.

You hit him going seventy miles an hour head on, and you’re thrown from the windshield and onto the groound. You left in such a hurry that you forgot to put your seatbelt on. The car you hit is a much bigger car than yours so it doesn’t have nearly as much damage as yours. The car slams on its break before slowly driving off, leaving you on the ground outside.

You gasp in pain and stare at the starry sky above you. Blood runs down your body and pools on the ground. You never took time to admire how pretty the night sky is. Your entire body is in pain but there is a certain peace that comes with being on the brink of death. You close your eyes to get some sleep when you hear someone calling your name off in the distance.

How much time has passed? It seems like minutes but could have been for much longer.

“Y/N!” Jensen gasps and slides on the ground when he gets to you. You open your eyes and see red and blue lights flashing off his face. “I’m right here. You’re going to be okay. Just hang on for me, okay? Please be okay.”

“Sir, you need to move.”

Jensen is pulled back so the paramedics can come in and do their job. You close your eyes because you’re so fucking tired. You feel yourself being lifted off the ground and onto something softer than the ground. You’re wheeled on a gurney into the ambulance with Jensen following closely behind.

“Sir, only family are allowed inside.”

“I’m her husband,” Jensen shouts and pushes past the paramedics.

They allow him to sit inside and be with you until they get to the hospital. Jensen grabs your bloody hand just as you roll your head to the side. You barely squeeze his hand to let him knwo you’re with him and not going toward the light no matter how tempting it might be.

“I’m right here, sweetheart. I’m holding your hand.”

The next time you open your eyes, you’re confronted with blinding white lights. Is this what Heaven is like? Did you die? You blink a few times to correct your vision and see you’re not in Heaven but a hospital room. You groan softly and look to your right where Jensen is. He is holding your hand with his head lowered like he’s praying. When he hears your painful groan, his head snaps up.

“Sweetheart. Hey, I’m right here.”

“Jensen?” you croak.

“Do you need some water?” You nod and he grabs a small cup of water. He helps you drink before setting the cup down. “How are you feeling?”

“What happened?”

“You collided with another car. The bastard left instead of staying but cops found him near where the cabin is. There’s only one road going in and out of town so it wasn’t hard to spot the truck with bumper damage. Your car is totaled though.”

Oh, yeah. The reason why you didn't see the other car is because you had tears flowing out of your eyes the entire time. Why were you crying? Right. Jensen was going to choose Denise over you. You take your hand away from his when you remember this and shift further from him.

“Where is Denise?”

“Gone.” Your eyes snap to his. “I broke up with her.”

“What? Why?”

“She made me choose. Anyone who makes me choose isn’t good enough to be with me.”

“What did she make you choose?” you ask even though you know the answer.

“It was either you or her, and you should know by now I will always choose you.”

“You shouldn’t have had to do that.”

“I’m glad she did.” He grabs your good hand and kisses the back of it. “I was blind to who was by my side my entire life.”

You smile and run your thumb on the back of his hand.

“What does this mean?”

“First, you get better. Then, I’m going to show you just how much I love you.”

“Deal,” you smile shyly.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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kneelingshadowsalome · 7 months

Note

omg what’s cabin!konig? new koooonnnyyy unlocked

Yes, König comes in many forms and he always wants to knock you up. But!

Cabin!König is particularly designed to breed, and he’s very vehement about doing just so.

Hauls you deep into the Alps and shoves you inside this cute cabin that looks minimalistic and weather-beaten on the outside but insanely adorable on the inside. There’s a fireplace and a broad, sturdy hardwood bed (for the purpose of you know perfectly well what...), indoor plumbing for your convenience, an electric oven for you to bake him cookies and pastries (traditional Austrian ones if you wish to pamper and spoil him) and a lot of authentic 19th-century art on the walls, next to the ropes and traps and cast iron pans and pots and wicker baskets that hold woollen blankets in case you get cold.

But you really don’t get a chance to get cold, do you? Because König is on and in you every chance he gets. Man's got a plan, and he has always implemented his strategies and completed his projects with a frightening amount of energy, commitment and willpower. You wake up in the morning to his heated cuddles and soft whines, knowing that you’re about to get taken from behind – again. He’s soft and slow at first, cuddlefucking and spooning you like you’re the best thing in his entire world... but you know it’s all just a warm-up. The thrusts get deeper and more intense as the morning session goes on, until both of you are fully awake and König gets into his full breeding mood. It’s the same thing in the evening, but this time, he’s on top and looks you deep in the eyes as he makes love to you while your toes curl and point to the ceiling. Nothing but the fireplace and some candles lighting the cabin with flickering, warm tones: he’s a romantic soul underneath all that callous soldier’s discipline.

During the day, König has many responsibilites outside: he has to fix the roof of some shed and walk the perimeter to check that no one has found their way here, that no one is disturbing his mating season that lasts from May till August. You know nothing about his hikes, but he has even set bear traps all over the place, and not for the purpose of catching bears…

He of course tempted you here by saying you deserve a holiday and that the mountains would be a good, non-stressful environment to finally try and get you pregnant. He has been talking about wanting to have babies ever since you met: actually, he brought the subject up on your first date - to your horror and intrigue - wanting to know if you would ever want kids and if you were in it for the long haul because he was sick of dating just for some shallow, casual fun.

You could never have known that you would get folded into a mating press every day after only a few months of your acquintance, but here you are: getting stuffed full of potent cum every day, multiple times per day, because König has decided that you are the perfect wife material and the perfect mother for his kids.

He can come off as a little too intense, even rough at times, but he is in fact a very gentle lover and offers impeccable aftercare. His hormones are through the roof here in this sweet little cabin with his sweet little future wife-to-be. König is fully in his element when he gets to walk in the brisk mountain air and then come “home” to the delicious scent of warm buns or apple pie, to the sweet scent and feel of you.

Cuddles you after sex like it’s equally as important as the deed of getting you pregnant. He’s not just trying to apologize for being so needy and urgent with you, he’s actually bonding with you everytime you have sex. It’s like a ritual for him to hold you close and take in your soft panting and warm cheeks after he just made you cum no less than two or three times. You’re still not sure if this is a good idea, and you’re not sure if this man is even completely sane… But he sure as hell is adamant in making you feel good, providing for you and giving you the best sex of your entire life ❤️

#sorry i'm in my “write whatever the fuck you want ^^” era #you all have to just suffer!#also this is not a könig blog #nope #no #no...#könig smut #könig fluff #cabin!könig

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hxxsxxng · 2 months

Text

SUNGHOON 박성훈 - VACATION

MINORS DNI

word count: 2.9k

Genre: SMUT

Content: oral, fingering, praising, use of “daddy” and “master”, creampie, unprotected sex…. and more

Preview: You and Sunghoon deserve some relaxation time. and what better place to do it than a vacation cabin.

Authors note: I wrote this back when wattpad was really cracking down on smut, so if there is a word that is weirdly censored that’s why.

SUPPORT BY REBLOGING if you want

"Ahhh we're finally here." you say getting out of the car.

The 9 hour drive to the cold, snowy mountains has finally ended. You and your fiancée, Sunghoon, decided to rent a beautiful log cabin for the week of Christmas and you just arrived.

"Let's go check this place out!" hoon said as he was stretching.

You both walk up to the huge wooden double door and you look at each other in shock. Y'all didn't thing the place would be THAT big and fancy.

He places the key into the door and then pushes them open. The inside is huge. The furniture in the living room is nice and there is a huge, warm fireplace. You both step in and start touring the cabin.

You come across the kitchen. You are both surprised at all of the high tech equipment in there. Next is the book room. Thousands of books were just sitting on the shelf for display. Who knows how long it's been since someone actually read one.

There was also a theatre room. It seated 8 people and according to the people who let y'all rent the cabin, the sound system is really good.

"We are going to be watching a lot of movies on here babe." hoon says to you. You slightly chuckle.

You both walk down the hall way and come across the master bedroom. The carpet is nice, the room is big, and the bed was big enough to fit like 6 people. Y'all step farther in and walk into the master bathroom. The sinks were so fancy and the mirror was a full body mirror and it had not a speck a dirt on it. And across from the mirror was the bathtub. It had a part where you could sit on and it also had jets. It looked so relaxing.

After wondering around the insanely large house, you both decided to go back out to the car and grab your belongings.

You both walk back in and carry the suitcases to the bedroom and set them down. You are both exhausted and just want to relax.

"Baby do you want to go cuddle by the fire place?" Sunghoon says tiredly

He says this knowing that would would obviously say yes. Cozy cuddling is your favorite thing to do.

Sunghoon then goes and gets wood to start a fire while you fine some fuzzy blankets. You set the blankets down on the couch and go to change into something more comfortable.

You come back and he already has a nice fire going and he is already laying on the couch under the blankets. In a pouty mood, you walk over and lift up the blanket and slide under it. You closest to the fire, and him right behind you. (The spooning position)

He wraps his arm around you and you both fall asleep quickly.

2 hours go by and and barely waking up. You realize that Sunghoon is no longer laying with you. You give yourself a few seconds to wake up before going to see where he is. You hear the water running but you can't tell from where.

It can't be from the kitchen so it must be from the bathroom? you think to yourself

You walk into the master bathroom to find Sunghoon taking a warm bubble bath. Warm enough to make the mirror fog up.

His face brightens when he sees you walk in.

"You're in here, about to take a bath, in the big jet tub, and you didn't ask if I wanted to join?" you say in a fake offended voice.

"I mean, you are always welcome" he smirks

You decide to take him up on his offer. You walk over and stand next to the tub, taking off your top. Sunghoon looks at you amazed and started to touch your waist. Then, you took off your bra. He looked like he wanted to grab your chest so badly. You then slide off your pants, leaving only your panties.

"Mmmmmm are you gonna sit on my lap when you get in here?" he said suggestively.

You chuckle as you remove your final piece of clothing.

You step over the edge of the tub, feeling the hot water. It takes you a second to get used to the temperature of the water, then you submerge your body up to the middle of your waist.

Sunghoon scoots closer to you and looks deeply into your eyes, resting each of his hands on the lateral part of your upper arms. He slides his hands down and sets them on your love handles. He pulls you in for a kiss.

He continues kissing you until it turns into a full on make out session. His hands were roaming your body while yours were resting on his shoulders. He slides his hands up your waist them up to your neck, wrapping his hands around it. He softly grips your neck, as if he were choking you, but not all the way.

This simple action gave you butterflies. His hands are so big, slim, and soft and the feeling of them being wrapped around your neck was such a turn on for you, and he knew it. He probably did it for that purpose.

His hands continue to roam your body and so you start doing the same thing to him. Feeling down his muscular biceps, his chest, and down to his large thighs. He gets so turned on when you rub his thighs so you decided to calmly run your hands up and down them.

While this is all going on, you can't help but notice that he a grown a bit hard. You then reach your hand to his groin area, making contact with his member. This contact made him hum a little bit.

You slowly wrap your hands around his member and gently stroke it. Hoon, still keeping your lips connected, is starting to breathe heavier, wanting you to go further.

You moved you hand painfully slow, causing him to groan. He grips your hips and thighs in anticipation.

You finally decided to give in after what seemed like forever to him. You tighten your grip just a little bit and you pick of the pace. His breaths start to get slightly shakier, but still managing to keep his lips in direct contact with yours. Your tongues are wrestling each other's and Sunghoon playfully bites your lip ever so often.

He departs from your lips and goes to sit on the tub seat on the other side of the bathtub, leaning back. With no questions asked, you come to him right after, heel sitting in front of him. There wasn't a significant amount of water in to tub, so where wasn't a lot of water going every where.

You grab his cock with you hand and you start stroking it again. You open your mouth just a little bit and put your lips on the tip. You put more of it into your mouth, twirling your tongue around it. His favorite thing in the world is when you use your tongue a lot when you have his d¡ck in your mouth.

Slowly allowing more in to your mouth also meant that Sunghoon was slowly getting more restless. He loves seeing you bob your head up and down. He runs his fingers through the front parts of you hair, leading them up to a makeshift ponytail. The front pieces would keep falling out but he would brush them back if they did.

"Angh~ you are so good at this princess." he says

You, physically having no room to talk due to your mouth being stuffed with his perfect cock, hummed in response. Your hum made your throat vibrate and it made Sunghoon twitch a little bit. He starts to move his hips in a rhythmic motion, trying to match yours.

You speed up exponentially out of no where, surprising him. He was so shocked but he loved every second of it. His breathing is shaky and he begins to grip your har tighter. He tosses his head back while his member starts twitching.

"I'm so close baby girl,....yeah right there" he says to you.

You go down farther and farther on his dick , until eventually it was all the way in. He lets out cute moans as you feel him plant his seed in your mouth. Once you suck him dry, you pull away having your mouth hanging open, with his cvm dripping out of it.

He smiles and looks down at you. He grabs your lower jaw and closes your mouth. "Swallow it" he demands. So, no matter how strange it tasted, you swallows a mouthful is his cvm. Leaving some of it around your mouth.

"Good girl"

He switches seats with you and starts by kissing you all of your body, down your neck, chest, stomach, thighs... all of you. He runs his hands up and down your inner thighs while softly kissing them. He slides his fingers onto your sensitive area. He slowly and carefully starts rubbing your clit is circular motions.

He starts kissing you more, like sloppy kisses and he takes his fingers away and licks them, making them more wet, and then continued to manipulate your pussy.

"R-right there daddy, just like that.~" you say while letting out a quiet moan.

He massages you slower, teasing you to keep you on edge. He wants you to beg for it.

"Why did y-you do that??~" you say sadly

No response, he just looks down and smiles a little bit.

"Please keep going, I need this daddy, i need your fingers."

Sunghoon gets painfully turned on when you you any kind of praise word, like daddy, but his favorite is master. He loves the feeling of having power over you, so you saying this was bound for him to have a reaction.

The next thing you know, you feel him slip his fingers inside of you. He starts moving his fingers in and out and he knows all of the right places to do it too.

You lay back and rest your arms on the sides of the tub. You throw your head back and decide to let him take control of the moment. You try to keep your cute little moans to yourself but Sunghoon could hear them.

"Come on baby, let them out" he says

You very obviously blush. Following his request, you allow yourself to moan a little louder, it's not like anyone would hear you.

You weren't being loud enough. He wanted you to be screaming his name. Moaning uncontrollably. Tears rolling down your face. Legs shaking. All of this only for his own pleasure. Seeing you in such a weak, helpless state would only make him more horny.

He forcefully picks up his pace, making you gasp. You try to contain is but you can't. You start breathing heavily as moans continuously fall out of your mouth. You place your arms on his shoulders and you dig your nails into his upper back. This sort of stinging pain was so hot to him.

This is what he liked to see. This is what he liked to hear. Your adorable moans filling up to room while you grip his shoulders. It was heaven to him.

But it still wasn't enough. He eagerly pulls his fingers out of you and grabs you up off of the tub seat. He forcefully bends you over the edge of the tub. He has both of your hands held behind your back with one of his hands.

He grabs his member and slides it across your cl¡t a few times, building up the anticipation for the both of you.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" he asks you

"Yes please daddy, ruin me"

He rams his perfectly shaped cock into you without hesitation. It is the perfect fit for you.

"Fuuck~" he says under his breath. "Your pussy is so tight baby."

He starts off with slow strokes, making sure you are adjusting to the size well. You wince at the pain but it begins to start turning into pleasure quickly. Once you show that it's okay to go a little faster, he increases the pace.

He lets go of your hands and grabs both of your hips for more control. He notices the mirror was way less foggy than it was earlier.

"Looks in the mirror babe" he says

You feel embarrassed when he said this. You groan and keep your head down.

He grabs the ends your you hair with his fist pulling it back, forcing your head up.

"I said look in the damn mirror" he's says but this time, more angrily.

Your face was so red from embarrassment but also from the heat. You were moaning so loud while being forced to watch your self get fucked Sunghoon. But you have to admit, it was hot seeing the faces he made with each stroke.

"You look so pretty when I ram my dick in and out of you, princess. You are taking it like such a good girl." He praised.

He grips your hair a little tighter, giving you goosebumps. He uses his other hand to reach around you body and grab your breast in the palm of his hand. He was so skilled , it was as if he were a pornstar.

He continued at a steady pace.

You couldn't feel your body. Him repeatedly hitting your g-spot perfectly over and over again made the rest of your body go numb. Your mind is cloudy. You can't get over how insanely good he is making you feel.

"I-it feels so g-good,... m-master." these words some how managed to slip from your mouth.

"Mmm really? does this feel good too?" he proceeds you slap your ass.

Saliva begins to ooze out of your mouth. He has you drooling over him and what he's doing to you.

He slows down, but pounds into you with a lot of extra force each time. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you can barely breathe

"Do you like when I do this?" he asked

He didn't even need an answer. He knew what it was doing to you.

You were so needy for him. You would do anything he said if it meant that you could finish.

"Say my name and i'll let you cum?" he says

"d-daddy"

"Louder" he says sternly

"Daddy"

"Good Girl"

Your legs are getting weaker and are shaking like jello, you could barely hold yourself up.

Your moans start getting shakier and heavier. He picks up the pace again, trying to let you reach your max. He soon realizes that is is close to meeting his own, too.

"I love you baby." he says to you

You try to respond with "I love you too" but the sounds of your moans were masking it. You reach your all time high and you loud enough for the next town over to hear. You feel his warm liquid shoot into you as he continues with his strokes, eventually slowing down and pulling himself out of you. His cum was dripping and seeping out of your pussy while you both try and catch your breath.

He looks down at your pretty hole that he just ruined.

"Damn babe, your pussy looks so good with my cum oozing out."

He sits you back down on to the tub seat. He takes two of his fingers and slides them in you, not even giving you enough time to recooperate. He slides them in and out, making you grip the edge of the tub. You close your eyes tightly, whimpering.

He removes his fingers and sticks them in your mouth. The sweat droplets on his face was so attractive to you.

"You did so well for me today babe" he said taking his fingers out of your mouth while looking deeply into your eyes, gripping your chin.

You smile and thank him, pulling him into a kiss.

Y'all finish up in the bath tub and begin to get out. He runs to grab two towels. He returns and tosses a towel to you. He smiles and pulls you in, wrapping you both into his towel. He kisses you on the forehead.

You both walk back into the bedroom decide to get ready to sleep again, but longer than a nap of course. You both dig into your suitcases to find some pajama pants and a loose t-shirt to wear to sleep. You slip your clothes on and you plop yourself down in to the bed. You were very tired and sore.

Sunghoon leaves the room for a brief second and comes back what some warm blankets in his hand. He sets one down and he lays the other one out on top of you. He makes sure you are all warm and cozy before sliding into the bed himself. He lays the second blanket over the both of you and pulls you in closer by the waist. He leans in and kisses you on the forehead.

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