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goldeneyedgirl · 6 months

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TwiFicmas23 Day 3: Hybrid (The Party)

Good evening! I might have spent today reading a very old draft and realizing that as bad as the draft is, there is potential there. I'm pretty excited, and hoping I can salvage some of it for a future day.

But today I humbly offer a new scene from the OG Hybrid. This particular scene comes from earlier in the fic - after Jasper tried to feed on Alice and the Cullens begrudgingly welcome Alice to join their lunch table, but you wouldn't call them friends yet. Plus Alice is still set on being a normal high schooler with normal experiences.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

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The party is exactly what I expected - eighty teenagers in a log house unsupervised. There’s a good mix of Res kids and town kids; and from the conversation that I overhear, it's not just Forks High students from town either - at least a few are from the hippie school which might explain the distinctive smell wafting from the den - and a few people who have definitely graduated.

I feel awkward from the moment I arrive; after all, other than Angela and the Cullens, I don’t really hang out with many kids from school. I was so determined to have a normal experience and go to a high school party without vampires, I hadn’t really considered the reality of the situation. And the sheer amount of complete strangers here puts me on edge - it’s one thing to try and hang out like a normal teenager with my classmates and schoolmates. It’s an entirely different thing to be faced with a house full of random people when I don’t have anyone here to watch my back. The few parties I had attended in Chicago, I had gone to with one of my foster siblings, and no matter how much we disliked each other or what arguments we had, we always had each other’s back.

And Cynthia was way too young to be dragged to a high school party - no matter how enthusiastically she would have attended this with me - so I was on my own. I could do this, I had been to parties before. Hell, I’d been a homeless middle schooler when I went to my first party, a rave in an abandoned warehouse. A house party was nothing to be nervous about.

It’s easy enough to get a slice of pizza and a cup of what I know isn’t just a sugary sweet concoction of soda and juice. I smile and I talk - compliments for a girl in a bedazzled mini-dress, and another one with long pink and white hair; a couple of jokes for the guys manning the pizza boxes. I feel like I’m playing the part of a teenage girl at a party more than I feel like myself, but it’s something. I even manage to smile prettily and take a puff of a cigarette that I know isn’t tobacco and maybe have another drink and another until I’ve made party-friends with a group from Port Angeles who know a guy who knows a girl who got an invite or something. I feel a little more at ease with the alcohol in my system, and when the conversation turns to something I’m more familiar with.

In fact, I’m in the middle of explaining how we used to do our nails at my last foster home, when I’m rescued by a group of Forks High classmates; Mike Newtown is clearly their spokesperson as he unwelcomely grabs my arm.

“Hey, we didn’t know you were here,” he says loudly; I can tell from the flush on his cheeks, he’s either helped himself to the beers piled into the bathtub down the hall or he’s been drinking the same punch as I have.

“I’ve been here a while,” I say, and decide that I’m not going to make a fuss that he’s glanced down at my chest right now. He can look twice, and then I start getting bitchy.

“We’re about… about to play a game. Connor’s setting up, come join us.”

There’s something about the way that Mike is pulling on my arm, and two of the girls he’s with are looking at me that makes me agree, quickly bidding the group I was talking to farewell.

“You’re Alice, right?” One of the girls sidles up to me, sloshing her drink a little. “First party, huh? I’m Jennifer. A lot of these people crashed tonight. You gotta look out for each other.”

“Mrs Sawyer is gonna lose her shit when she sees this,” chortled the other girl, shoving a full cup at me. “Rob isn’t going to see the light of day until he’s like thirty after this.”

A boy I recognise from English - Austin - sidled up to us. “Rob’s in the den and he’s out. He’s not gonna have a clue what happened here. Told him to pace himself, but he never fuckin’ listens. Conner’s set up, let’s go.”

I take my seat at whatever dumb drinking game this is, and everyone seems eager to play. Jennifer and Samantha sit with me, but it doesn’t stop Mike Newton - who seems somewhat out of place here, without his usual group of friends - from clumsily flirting with me. I’ve had too much of the soda to appropriately call him out and make him stop, and my lukewarm disinterest seems to actually encourage him, though Jennifer swats at his hand when he attempts to casually touch my leg.

It’s not the worst night or party I’ve been to. It’s hot and loud, but there aren’t any fights breaking out, and most of the illicit substances seem to be kept in the back rooms of the house. It’s amazing how time locked up in a mental hospital cured me of any interest in anything stronger than weed and whatever was in my drink; plus the last thing I wanted was to get that kind of reputation.

But by midnight, I feel… sticky. I’m sweaty and my mouth tastes sour and sickly; my head is spinning and I’m too hot and I need to get out of this shitty house and away from these people who don’t even know who I am. Samatha and Jennifer have clearly decided to keep track of me, and there’s some obligation because I’m one of them, but they aren’t my friends and we probably won’t acknowledge this night ever again. Plus, a few of the hippie school guys have been watching me from the corner, and even through the haze of alcohol and weed, alarm bells are ringing - I can sense animosity from a mile away.

I need to get out of here.

It’s easy enough to excuse myself to the bathroom and then just leave through the laundry room door without anyone noticing. My head feels syrupy as I make it down the deck stairs and out into the night.

It’s colder outside than I remember and the air is such a relief, I want to press my face to the ground. I wish I had some water, but I need to get home - I was supposed to get a ride from someone here, but I didn’t trust myself to ask the right person right now, and I don’t really want to wait around any longer.

Plus, it was only a ten minute drive from town to this house, I could easily walk it. I’d made Simon drop me off at the crossroad half a mile away, I knew the way home.

Stumbling down the driveway, I let the noise and light of the party fade away behind me. The house was right up against the lake, and the drive wove through the forest from the main road - leaving me in the dark. But it was nice; a relief.

It was a beautiful night, and I was enjoying the walk - it was even helping sober me up.

At least, I was right up until about halfway, when I tripped over something and landed flat on my face in the gravel. That also indicated to me that I was… not quite as sobered up as I thought, because the pain felt very distant in that moment, like I was filing it away for later.

I shouldn’t have had so much to drink when I knew it was spiked.

Getting up was not a possibility. My ankle was sore, the world was spinning, my knees were burning, and the ground was nice and cool. The best I could manage was to half crawl to the side of the driveway and collapse in the long grass to wait for it to pass. I wasn’t sure if that was the night, my drunken state, or my inability to stand up, but I figured I could wait it out. I was comfy.

It was a pretty night, with the clouds drifting across the sky. It’s pleasant enough that I just lie there, staring up at the moon and the stars, with my head swimming. It’s not as bad as the feeling I used to get in the hospital when they’d give us the drugs to make us sleep. That made me feel like I didn’t have control over my arms and legs, like I was stuck and trapped and at the whim of someone else. This is warmer, and I’m still in control; kind of like I’m dreaming but awake. It was nicer. I kind of understood why some kids had preferred alcohol to meds now.

It’s just so peaceful, even if the damp is seeping through my top, that I lose track of the time. Dad had been worried letting me go, and made me swear I’d be home by one but I was nearly certain that I was going to miss that deadline. It was weird having a curfew - unless I was homeless, curfews at the hospital and in my foster homes had been more of the ‘in bed by nine, don’t even consider an alternative’ flavour.

At a certain point, though, reality began to break through the peaceful little haze I had going on, and I remembered my phone in the little sling bag that had gallantly survived the entire night without getting lost.

There were no cabs in Forks to my knowledge - and from what I had seen at school, there was a fifty-fifty chance they’d refuse to pick me up for one of three reasons: I was the daughter of the gay guys, I was the mysterious newcomer, or that I had been drinking at a high school party. After a few weeks in Forks, I’d found that the small-town judgment and prejudice were quieter than expected but it ran deep.

Cynthia had programmed a bunch of useful numbers into my phone for me, so maybe that included a solution to the fact I was lying in the mud next to the driveway of a classmate’s house.

Scrolling through my phone contacts, I wondered if I should just bite the bullet and call Dad or Simon, and own the fact that I was still a little bit high and still a little… okay, a lot drunk. I wouldn’t be the first ex-foster kid to come home drunk, and I wouldn’t be the last. But I also dreaded the look on my Dad’s face; that tired and disappointed one that looked like he had failed me and not the other way around. I wanted so much to be able to say that yeah, the party was fine, and have that been the end of it. I didn’t want the lecture, I didn’t want the embarrassment and I didn’t want…

I froze as I looked at my list of contacts. Five new numbers that I had certainly not programmed into my phone, and Cynthia certainly hadn’t added because if she knew and had these numbers, I was nearly positive that she would have sold them off to the highest bidder in the middle school cafeteria.

How the fuck had the Cullens’ collective numbers ended up in my phone? Had I done it at one of our awkward lunches? That seemed unlikely, but my brain couldn’t completely rule that out as a possibility, especially when I was sleep-deprived or bogged down with homework. And why would Dr Cullen’s number be included if we’d exchanged numbers during lunch? As shitty as their high school act was, they at least knew that offering me Dr Cullen’s number would be fucking weird.

Scowling, I selected the one member of the Cullens I would actually willingly talk to - well, the one member of the Cullens that I was quasi-certain wouldn’t immediately pass the phone off to any of the three members of the family I refused to speak to on principle.

Emmett seemed cool, but I sensed weakness in him when it came to the will of Rosalie and tonight was not the night to test that theory out.

If I hadn’t had so much punch, this would seem like a terrible idea. But if I hadn’t had so much punch, I’d be cheerfully walking myself home. Well, not cheerfully. But I’d be home in bed already, willing tonight to just go down in my personal history as mediocre and not worth repeating.

“Hello?” The sound of Jasper’s voice sent a shiver down my spine and a spike of … reassurance? Like everything was okay or would be okay because he was so good at putting things… putting me… back together.

Or he would be, in the future. I had seen it.

“Why is your number in my phone?” In my head, it sounded indignant but even I could hear my words run together. Fuck. “I didn’t put it there.”

“…Alice?” The way he said my name… I thought I’d known what it would sound like after years of visions. But it was different in real life, better. He sounded confused and slightly startled, which was new. Normally when he said my name it was a polite greeting. In my visions, it was warmer and more intimate.

“Yes, it’s Alice - do you and your family regularly inflict your phone numbers on unsus… unsusp… teenage girls that don’t know you stole their phones? You’re getting us all confused?”

“Alice are you… intoxicated?” He sounds incredulous.

“Why does that matter?” I demanded. Jasper might be the love of my life, but he had not yet earned the privilege of commenting on my chosen activities, let alone get to police me. “For your information, there was a party at Rob Sawyer’s tonight and all the real teenagers went. You and your family need to be more convincing.”

“I can attest that not everyone went, because Bella is downstairs with Edward,” Jasper replied.

“Well, her high school priorities are clearly different to mine,” I retorted; I was irritated that he was so calm and I couldn’t work out why. “I prefer to enjoy my youth. It’s fleeting, you know. One day she’ll look back and wonder why she spent so… so much time listening to her old man boyfriend play the piano when she could have been doing something fun… like going to a rave.” What was I saying? I hated raves. I liked getting dressed for them, because it was fun, but I hated how sweaty and crowded and smothering they were.

“Where are you, Alice?” Jasper sounds far too amused for my liking, and if he were here, I’d have smacked him.

“I’m fine.” My back was actively wet now, and I was certain I was covered in mud.

“Uh huh. Are you alone?”

“Yes.” There was a nearby frog I could hear, but nothing else. I was surprised - no one had left yet. Was it normal for Forks High parties to go on this long or did people stay over or what?

“You should call your parents, Alice. Get them to pick you up. Or Carlisle can if you’re worried,” Jasper says so kindly that all my indignation deflates like a balloon, and a ball of panic wells up in my chest.

“No. You cannot tell my father about this,” I said. “You have to swear.”

“Alice, I think your parents would prefer you were home safe rather than alone and intoxicated,” Jasper said soothingly.

“No. I don’t… they aren’t allowed to see this. I’m already too much trouble and messed up their lives, and I don’t want to disappoint them again,” I said, and felt tears well up in my eyes. “I must be costing them so much and they have to take me a bunch of places and watch me and every time I mess up or say something wrong, they get this look on their faces like they screwed up. It’s not. They didn’t have to take me into their home, not really, and I… I want to make it worth it for them.” I sniffled.

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

“Tell me where you are, Alice. I’ll drive you home.”

“Rob Sawyer’s house party. It’s on a dirt road.”

“That’s not… Don’t hang up, okay? I’m going to track your phone.”

“That sounds illegal, Jasper,” I said, wriggling around on the grass to get more comfortable. “How do you even do that?”

“It’s a long story. And yes, it is. But desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“I’m fine.” Kind of cold and muddy, and my knees and ankle were hurting in kind of a distant way, but the sweaty nausea had passed. I could easily fall asleep here. It wouldn’t even make the top ten worst places I’d slept in my life.

“We’ll agree to disagree, Alice.” I could listen to Jasper say my name forever. “But I do have a question for you while we wait.”

“Okay?”

“Why did you call me? I put all the numbers in your phone. Why me?”

I froze. He didn’t sound like he resented that I had chosen him; there was a note of something in his voice, something raw and real and even a little bit… not eager. But something. Maybe curiosity?

“Who else would I call? I hate doctors. Rosalie hates me. Edward doesn’t trust me and he reads minds. Emmett was a possibility, but he looks easily broken,” I said.

“And Esme?” Jasper sounded disappointed.

“I have a lot of mommy issues, let’s not unpack that box. I didn’t see her number there anyway.” I propped myself up on one arm. “You weren’t the last resort, Jasper. You were my first and only choice.”

“…Why?” Now I could hear the self-loathing in the boy’s voice.

“Because I trust you,” I replied. “You’re the person I trust the most in the world. Or you will be one day.”

Silence again. “I don’t understand.”

“I’ve known about you for a long time,” I said, watching the clouds move across the sky. “You’re a protector, a planner. You love to read and learn but you loathe high school. You have a wicked sense of humour, and you just… fix everything. There’s nothing too terrible or silly or chaotic that you don’t make better. Just by being there, you’re making things perfect…” He was. I had years of dreams of laughing and talking together, of the way he would stroke my hair and wrap his arms around me. The way we’d lie together, him reading and me drawing or messing around on my phone. We were meant to be so happy.

And it had to be said that he was… goddamn magnificent in bed. And like, I wasn’t entirely sure when he had died, but it was definitely in a ‘lie back and think of England’ era for women, so I felt like I should send a fruit basket or something to whichever ex-girlfriend had intervened because he was… outstanding. I’d only seen stuff like that over the last few years and it had been very enlightening on multiple levels. It had also been comforting that after every single thing that I’d lived through, I’d still be able to have that kind of intimacy with another person without all that fear and grief looming over me, and even enjoy it.

If he gave me one single chance to be something, whatever he wanted, I’d be his ride-or-die forever. I knew how fiercely and completely we’d love each other, and I wanted that so badly. He’d been my best friend long before either of us had set foot in Forks, and I just needed him to take that leap of faith and trust me, the weird girl who knew too much, to capture that future that we both desperately wanted and needed.

And I had no idea how I would convince Jasper of that. That I wouldn’t ask for this if it wasn’t something that I was so very certain we both wanted…

The phone had gone quiet.

“…What was I saying?” I yawned.

“I hope I can live up to your expectations.” Jasper’s voice was softer now. “I’ve got your location, Alice, I’ll be there soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” I said, as the phone line went dead. Awkwardly jamming my phone back into my sling bag, I closed my eyes for just a moment. Jasper was coming to get me and I’d go home, and everything would be okay.

#alice cullen #jasper hale #jalice #ficmas #ficmas23 #my fic: hybrid #alcohol is bad kids #jasper just at home reading on a friday night and alice drunk calls him and he's bewildered #ma'am this is a wendys #alice staring emmett down and going 'it's no use. you're a wife guy. you'll fold faster than superman on laundry day.'#jasper being oddly touched and humbled that alice picked him #jasper being intrigued and then terribly embarrassed about drunken alice's rambling #the image of cynthia standing in the middle school cafeteria taking cash offers for each of the cullens' cellphone numbers #“*five* dollars for edward cullen's number? please. five dollars won't even get you *my* number. try again. i know you have birthday money”#mike newton tries and fails again #for comedy purposes we need a fic where mike is leah's imprint and is the best damn stay at home boyfriend ever #justice for mike newton

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constant-and-immovable · 2 months

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Either the 2003 live action was originally a Disney property, or those guys were BOLD...As part of ongoing "I'm going to watch/read/listen to every adaptation ever written to be sure everything I'm doing is either new or taken right from Barrie," I'm watching all the behind the scenes details from the 1953 one....and the 2003 parrot was a cut character from the animated one. Some of the props are identical: the skull-headed vial of poison stood out in particular.

#hi WHERE did they find the floral frock coat they put hans conreid in for reference shots and WHY didn't they use that in the final i'm #obsessed with it #i want one #it was like a vaguely 1740s frock coat with FLOWERS along the trim!!!!!!#how perfect?????#I'm soooooo #sooooooooooooo annoyed by walt though #''a story of boyhood!" excuse me????#MR. JAMES MATTHEW BARRIE DIDN'T CALL IT PETER AND WENDY FOR YOU TO CALL IT ABOUT BOYHOOOD #anyway #ANYWAY.#peter pan #however I'm very attached to just how DARK it was in early drafts?#peter just deciding to kidnap wendy BECAUSE SHE WAS PRETTY to tell the lost boys stories????#what the everloving /hell/#deleted plot of wendy having a book about never land though is charming but I think that might have been better suited to a story about jan #or even margaret since...the original story is also about wendy

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arolesbianism · 6 months

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Ok did some fact checking and yeah unless I missed smth outside of Wendy, Walter is the character who refers to Abigail by name the most! Which is absolutely delightful news for me, the number one Abigail Walter besties believer

#rat rambles #starve posting #wurt is in second place with her saying abby-gill twice 👍#and the only other person who reffers to her by name is webber in his sisturn dialogue where he calls it a little abigail house #wait that reminds me I forgot to check some ppls sisturn dialogue but I did word search abigiail and abby on everyone's pages #so unless wurt mentions her no one else should have brough her up? lemme go check wurt tho #ok no other abby-gill mentions #anyways back to walter even outside of him actually reffering to her by name hes the only one that rly seems to like.#actually talk to her like a person?#like dont get me wrong other characters have talked to her instead of at her but walter is like. not being weird abt it.#he just talks to her casually like he would to any other person! and I love that so much!#hes even like the only one who seems to recognize her flower as her #ok well wormwood does too weirdly enough #but I dont think anyone else properly does? wortox might tho its just kinda unclear #but yeah walter has to treat abby like a person to make up for webber saying 'wendy would have been so happy if it worked' after failing to #revive abby to her face lol #I love webber so much but he is also like 10 so its unsurprising for him to be a bit too blunt sometimes

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michaelwatt · 1 year

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Shoutout to the time last year where I attempted to post one of my bugsnax x my time at Portia fanart on ao3 and someone basically had me convinced I wasn't allowed to post fanart bc it was a "fanfic site" and essentially bullying me. So I had a panic attack, assuming some rules had been changed, and I quickly deleted my work, only to find out that, no nothing had changed. And so I got really annoyed bc I realized

It's a fckn fanworks website.

You can literally post whatever. HELL. I was posting fanart for years prior, and suddenly this rando was bullying me to take it down and won?

#this still really annoys me #i let them get to me #i rly should have reuploaded after i found that out #and called them out in a note #however i rly hadnt dipped my toe in the fandom so i was a big newb and nervous #hfhdjdj #but yeah #what was that sir???#i cant post fanart?#HAH #that one spongebob meme where its like #yOu cAnT poSt fANARt tHIs is A fANfiC plACE. sir this is an archive #/sir this is a wendys/#beau/lyn speaks #beau rants

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cleaningbones · 2 years

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unpopular opinion but i view jack torrance as tragic

#based on the movie not the book #my working theory is that both jack and danny are nd and jack's behaviour (especially towards danny)#is the result of it being unaddressed #especially his anger abt wendy wanting danny to go to a doctor. i think a lot of his frustration is in danny #getting thr attention and validation that he needed #and i think the majority of the film he just has a hard time expressing frustration #and it's clear he genuinely cares abt at least danny if not also wendy. he tells lloyd he'd do anything for danny.#he says the same thing to danny earlier and you think 'oh he's crazy he's lying' but he has nothing to prove when he tells lloyd anything #and he was genuinely afraid of his dream where he killed wendy and danny #it's clear in the film that for the majority of the story he's dealing w a conflict of wanting to let out his frustration #and not wanting to hurt anyone #i think the hotel just took advantage of and manipulated his anger #in his final death scene he's not yelling out of anger he was yelling out of desperation #he was calling out for help it was just to late for him by then #and u could also argue that his actions could relate to a mix of undiagnosed disability internalized ableism and toxic masculinity #it's interesting cuz i don't think I've ever seen anyone else w a similar opinion on jack #i rlly despise the theory that he's a p3dophile #the shining #infodump

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aparticularbandit · 2 years

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The real question is where the line is on Scarlet and Wendy mother-daughter style bonding. Because I have a thought for a potential thing that I think fits, all things considered, but idk how well it will go.

To be fair, I also thought this about the America/Wendy ship soooooooo.

ALSO I have something planned for Part Five that I'm super looking forward to and want to get into writing but can't because it isn't time yet and I'm not there but UGH I wanna write it.

#musings #bandit writes fic #wanda america fic #i originally thought maybe i'd do it as a spin-off #because i wasn't sure it would go or fit in the proper main narrative #but i think it's actually the completion of the arc that wanda - scarlet - is going on #part three made her deal with the her most harmed by her actions (and also its consequences)#(part three deals with the wanda she wanted to be)#part four is making her deal with her younger self #(part four deals with accepting herself and her magic and i guess her grief)#(part four actually really deals with her self-hatred - accepting wendy and loving wendy as avenue of doing so with herself)#part five then needs to deal with the scarlet witch and who she became under the influence of the darkhold #(part five should deal with forgiving herself and allowing for her own redemption)#(wong called her an avenger in part three and ash called her one in part four)#(part five should be scarlet getting to the point where she can call herself one)#(and the best way to show this growth is through bringing in someone we've already seen before)#(or a variant of but haven't seen the 616!version of yet)#(and i'm SO looking forward to that)#(...and also when this person gets introduced i plan to switch to second person for reasons that will make sense when we get there #AND I MISS WRITING SECOND PERSON STUFF SO MUCH)#feel free to guess who it is in the comments

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bunnyhugs77 · 4 months

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High Demand

ꕤ- Pairing: Dealer! Jungkook x Reader

ꕤ- WC: 2.6k

ꕤ- A modern day Romeo and Juliet

Content: college student! reader, grumpy jk, brief texting! au, jk is lowkey whipped, drug use (marijuana), reader is his special customer, vaping, opposites attract, suggestive themes, minor jealousy, idiots in love (but they won't admit it), shot gunning, grinding, fwb?

Other Content: thigh riding, high sex, jk titty appreciation, unprotected sex (no.), hand job, soft dom kook, reader is a little needy, brief switch! koo, hickeys, pet names, spit, biting.

Shaking your head with a small giggle as you looked at your phone before tossing it aside. You're totally his favourite. You know he's stubborn and he would never admit it but deep down he loves delivering to you the most.

Looking around your sad and dimly lit dorm, all the lights were off and your roommate was gone for the weekend doing god knows what with her weird ass biology major boyfriend who would collect rabbit tails in jars for 'science'.

You were looking at one right now actually, it seems they left one behind, on the coffee table. It was just fermenting in... you actually weren't sure and didn't want to know.

Your eyes felt like they were on fire the longer you looked at the stupid philosophy paper you were writing. The bright light from your laptop was beginning to drill into your head. Your head lolled to the side glancing at the time on your phone.

It was almost 11:30, and time for a break. Abandoning the device on the couch for a quick wake-up shower; by the time you'd gotten changed and returned to the living room, you could expect Jungkook any minute now.

Except, this is Jungkook we're talking about. He's always late.

That's why when you heard the familiar rattling of the rusty fire escape you were startled. It was a little past midnight. Climbing through the window in nothing but your basketball shorts and a white tee.

Pleasantly surprised to see Jungkook scaling the platform with a bag of takeout pinned in between his teeth. The sight of you looking down at him from where he climbed made his eyebrows raise but of course he couldn't say anything.

Not until he was finally close enough for you to grab the bag from his mouth and he stands up. You climb back inside first with him following behind with a pained sigh. "I'm so sick of coming here. Got me climbing walls like its fucking subway surfers." He curses while you place the food down on the table.

Completely ignoring him, practically drooling as you slowly peeled open the bag. "And I thought you said you weren't gonna bring me anything." He snatches the bag.

"I didn't."

You let yourself fall onto the couch, arms crossed and unbelieving. "Oh yeah? So you just coincidentally craved Wendy's and decided to haul it up three flights up a ladder from your mouth when you could've just eaten it in the car?"

"Yeah exactly." He shrugs, obviously lying.

"Give me the bag, Jungkook."

"Fine. But I'm charging you extra for the delivery and the labour of bringing it up here." He hands it to you and you roll your eyes knowing it was nothing more than a bluff.

"It's not my fault you're out of shape," you mumble unwrapping the burger. "Oh yeah? Is this what out of shape looks like to you?" He says it almost offended but challenged.

Choking briefly on your food as he lifts up his shirt, revealing the defined abs that you have such lewd memories of. "Yeah, that's what I thought. You try climbing 3 flights up a ladder and tell me it's easy." You shrug,

"Not my fault you're banned from the campus." He drops himself down beside you, reaching for the bag of fries and taking some for himself. "But it is, if you hadn't called me to drop off a stash for Angelica's dorm party maybe I could still take the stairs."

You drop your half-eaten burger with apologetic eyes, "How was I supposed to know they were doing random security checks in the lobby? At least you didn't get arrested." You pout and he scoffs.

"Bare minimum." He says via grumpy mutter under his breath so you offered up the rest of your food to him as a peace offering. A little sad that he actually took it but you were getting full anyway.

As he finished up the rest of your food you couldn't stop yourself from asking, "So do you still do drops with Angelica?" He nods with his mouth full of the last bite, stuffing the wrappers back in the bag.

"How often does she call you?-- for deliveries I mean." He chuckles, licking his lips, "Jealous?" You take the trash off the coffee table and bring it to the kitchen to toss it in the garbage. "You're delusional."

"I can't help it if I'm in high demand." He manspreads, his arms stretched over the back of the couch. "Just shut up. Do you have my pen?" He reaches for the pocket inside his leather jacket, pulling out the slim box.

Already knowing that you were going to use it now, he began to unbox it while you collected the cash you needed. "40 right?" You say handing him the small spread of bills, "Yeah, but for you, I guess I could make it 30." He shrugs conceitedly.

"Because I'm your favourite." You say and he shakes his head, "No. Because I ate your food." Which he paid for but you didn't dare to say that out loud, you were getting cheap weed.

"So who's your favourite then Jungkook?" He hands you the pen, "Listen. I don't climb up the fire escape when I do deliveries for Angelica, I make her come to me. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Trying to tug the pen out of his grasp but he holds it firm until you respond, "I guess I can work with that." He smiles softly, letting you take the first hit as his arm wraps around your shoulder.

The two of you passed the pen back and forth, with little giggles here and there and wide eyes on the episode of SpongeBob that was playing.

By now the dark living room is illuminated by nothing more than your roommate's lava lamp and a strip of purple LEDs' taped behind the TV. You could see the smoke as it floated past the few sources of light.

"Open." He directs, taking a particularly long hit, leaning into you and blowing the pungent smoke into your mouth, sucking it in from his lips.

The pen is now forgotten as it rolls between the cracks of the couch. Straddling Jungkook's muscular thigh as he flexed it every now and then, taking hits from his blueberry Ice vape and blowing it to the ceiling, giving you a prime view of his sharp jaw under the soft purple lighting.

The sight made you shake, gyrating your hips almost desperately as you chased the feeling of friction on his denim-clad thigh. "You like that? You feel good fucking yourself on my thigh?" The question was rhetorical, you were too dazed to answer him anyway.

Your heavy-lidded gaze slowly rolls up to his pretty face once you feel his hand move from your hips to gently wrap around your neck, not applying any pressure, just there to let you feel the weight of his hand. "Answer me," He says, and you fall forward "Yess, feels so good." You moan, and Jungkook has danced this dance with you enough to see you were close.

But of course, he couldn't let you cum so soon, not yet. His hands flew to your hips and pinned you down on his thigh, restricting your range of motion. "Please," You beg and he wishes he had a little more willpower but he couldn't say no to you, not when you looked so fucked out when he's barely touched you.

"Fuck. Take your shirt off." Leaning back and crossing your arms over the base of the shirt, you pried it off your body desperately. Leaving you in your black lacy bra and it pulled out a guttural groan from Jungkook's chest.

"You little whore." he grits through his clenched teeth, grip tightening on the arm of the couch nearly ripping the fabric.

This position was no longer giving him what he so desperately craved. Shrugging the jacket from off his shoulders and taking off the tank top underneath letting your eyes roam over his built upper body, oh how you wanted to just...

Without thinking your tongue striped up the expanse of his bulky pecs. This was new, but Jungkook was so high out of his mind anything and everything you did felt like he was on cloud 9.

Your mouth dropped down to wrap around his rosy nipples and you could've never anticipated the worked-up reaction you got from him. "Oh shit, shit shit." He gasps, hands gripping your waist tight enough that you're sure there will be bruises by the morning.

Letting your tongue lap around his nipples with pure hunger, an inexplicable flame burning in your core as you were finally the one who got to watch the other be reduced to a moaning mess.

His once soft moans turned a little breathy and high-pitched, His hips bucked causing you to jolt in his lap, he was getting close.

"Didn't think you'd like having your tits played with so much?" You tease him but he didn't find the humour in it. He holds you by the throat once more, this time applying a generous amount of pressure, pushing you off him.

Unbuckling his belt and you knew what that meant. He slides out of his pants, followed by the boxers that were the last barrier between your moistened lips and his throbbing cock. "Let's put that smart mouth of yours to good use, yeah?" He hums, watching as you sink to your knees, hand carefully wrapped around his base, starting with slow pumps.

"Spit on it." Doing as told, you let a wad of spit fall from your pretty, plush lips and coat the shaft of his dick, you worked your palm up his length. Already satisfied with the way his head was thrown back.

"Just like that," Reaching for the vape, he takes a few good hits, the head rush mixed with the pleasure had him seeing stars-- the object falling from his hands immediately the moment he felt the warm heat of your mouth wrap around his sensitive tip.

"Y/n-" He breathes out, almost scared, he was so close, too soon. He's never struggled to hold himself back this badly before. What were you doing to him?

The obscene sounds of you choking as you struggled to take all of him in your mouth, letting your nose touch the soft, trimmed hairs near his base. Focusing on breathing through your nose before you felt a heavy hand on the back of your head, pushing you lower.

You were quite literally slobbering on his dick, gagging with every buck of his hips. "That's it, princess. You're doing so well--Shit. Mouth feels like fucking heaven." His praise rushes to your core and has your left hand trailing down to rub yourself through your lace underwear.

The rough friction being more than enough to get you there, "I'm gonna cum, baby. Where-- Shit!-- Where do you want it?" He gasps, his hips snapping, pushing his length down your throat almost erratically. You don't answer, only hollowing your cheeks to take him deeper, making your desires clear.

Your own fingers quickening their pace, your own sounds travelling through his dick in vibrations and pushing him right over the edge with you, filling your mouth with his warm cum.

Swallowing as if it were second nature. "Stick out your tongue," He says softly. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he tries to regain his composure from his overwhelming climax. Your tongue was out and cleared of any of his cum and it made him crazy.

He remembers the first time he'd brought an order to you over 6 months ago. He thought you were nothing more than a cute little philosophy major, never did he think he'd have you beneath him like he does right now.

Looking up at him, daring to give you an almost angelic gaze while the two of you ruined each other. Tainting each other with your own touches. "Kiss me?" You ask it so cutely, tempting him with the pout on your lips. You weren't being fair.

His body didn't give him a choice before his lips were on yours, his hips grinding into yours. The feeling of his solid dick rolling against your skin making the butterflies go ramped in your stomach.

The way you licked over his bottom lip with your own made Jungkook weak, stumbling on his elbows as he held himself up over you. Soft groans could be heard the deeper the kiss became.

Messy and intimate. Your hand crept up the back of his neck to tug at the dark locks of hair on his head. There was a loud pop and the two of you paused.

With Jungkook between your legs and with you under him, your heads turned slowly towards the coffee table where the jar was, dedicated to the fermenting rabbit tail. "What the fuck is that?" Jungkook slowly sits up, "My roommate's boyfriend's weird biology shit. I dunno, it freaks me out too." You sit up, now remembering what the two of you were in the middle of doing.

"That shit's not gonna blow up or anything right." You gently peck him on the lips but his brain seems preoccupied by the jar, "who knows," you say, kissing right under his ear and that seemed to get him to zone in on you.

Catching his bottom lip under his teeth as your kisses became more eager, suckling on a certain spot on his neck, his head falling back against his will. "Fuck, Y/n-- Don't you dare." You pull off his soft skin with a soft pop, admiring the burgundy bruise left behind.

"Oops." Your apology was ingenuine and bratty, and Jungkook hated brats.

Tearing you out of your final pieces of clothing before manhandling you into his lap. "Sit on it." He demands and you follow without question. Moaning out loud as his dick spread your lips apart like butter.

Sliding down with ease and a stretch of your velvety walls that were currently squeezing Jungkook for everything he's got and he's got nothing left, everything was yours.

"I-Shit! You feel so good, Kook!" He couldn't bother to correct you on the annoying nickname you were incessant on using. "Yeah? You like that- fuck, you feel so good." He curses, bucking his hips up into you as you raise your hips trying to match his thrusts.

He was fucking you so good, so ruthlessly, your head falls onto his shoulder and you needed more than just the couch to hold on to, your teeth sank into the muscular meat of his shoulder and his pace faltered.

"Shit shit shit! Do that again." He groans, picking up an inhumane pace that had you bouncing all over the place until he stilled you in his arms. His grunts and breathy moans came out right beside your ear only pushing you to your orgasm faster.

"J-jungkook-!" You pant, unable to speak, feeling like your insides are being rearranged, "Me too, baby. Cum with me." You finish first, and with a few more unsynchronized snaps of his hips, you were being filled to the brim with his cum.

The room is filled with nothing but the sound of muffled music playing from your neighbour's next door and laboured breaths. Jungkook gently lays you down on the couch beside him, staring into your eyes.

This felt so intimate. You felt his gaze deeper than just behind your eyes, it was as if he was looking into your soul. His eyes were tinted red as he looked at you with an adoring gaze. "You're cute." He says it casually as though he hadn't just fucked you.

Your eyes roll before they close, feeling the sleepiness begin to kick in. "Bet you say that to all your customers." Mumbling the words into his chest while he began to grin a little.

"Nope. Only to my favourite." Your eyes shoot open.

"I knew it."

#jungkook #bts #jungkook fic recs #jungkook ff #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #bts one shot #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook

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dontmindme2600 · 1 year

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I was obsessed with this one series as a kid and as I’ve gotten older every once in a while I’d fall into one of those hyperfixations that are way too embarrassing to share both online and with my irl life friends, but yesterday when I was at a social gathering I found out somebody I knew has been a fan of the series for YEARS like I am lmao it made me oddly happy

#nah cuz I know my friends would probably judge me for it #not like in a mean way where they tell me to stop being interested #just like a ‘wut’#also excuse the word ‘social gathering’ bc I don’t know what to call it lmao #a large group of people went to a Wendy’s and that was it #I can’t really call it a party

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elegyofthemoon · 1 year

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character opinion bingo Leo uwu

ngl the shit eating grin i got when i saw you sent leo lolol

tbh I would have circled so many HCs but I actually don't have that many... I think (never counted so I wouldn't know. Also I'm pretty sure I don't actually...have....any????? idk the brainfog is making it seem like head empty about this guy)

I have. Complex feelings about this guy. Do I like him? Yes. Do I want him to be bullied more? Yes. Do I think he's been through enough? Also yes.

#LIKE.#okay fine ill bite and ramble LOL thats what im good at doing i SUPPOSE #talking out of my ass i guess lol #also can you call it projecting when that guys literally doing that to himself 🤨my mistake for noticing the patterns #i like him i also hate him bc hes so. questionable sometimes. i want him to be bullied and i wanna put him in a blanket #I ALSO DONT WANT HIM TO BE SAD (@ BIRTHRIGHT) shit had me bawling for a week thinking about #also listne listen listen iknooooow i made that whole compile bs on the other blog but like #THIS ONE COMIC SO AND SO MADE REALLY MAKES ME ACHE THINKING ABOUT.....#i want to bite him solely because WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY B R A I N #have i ever had brainrot about a character as bad as i do him? perhaps hope gets close but not as bad as whatever the fuck this asshole has #going on.#'they sure do exist' i say as i grind my teeth gripping my sanity lest it be lost to HIM #but anyways! im normal :) promi <3 #answered #thanks wendy LKASDJFAHLDKSJAFH #augmentedampharos #this is yet another thing that makes me go 'man. i miss my mutuals.' aka 'the people i called the leo mutuals' IDK WHERE THEY WENT <:(#BUT THEY GIVE ME CENTRIFUGE BRAIN AND I WANT IT BAAAACK #toss me around!!!!!! do it !!!!! just fuck me up buddies !!!!!!

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strang3lov3 · 2 months

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Play Stupid Games

Summary - Who woulda thought you could make Joel come by playing with his nipples? NOT ME!! (3.6k words)

Tags - implied age gap as Joel calls reader kiddo, Joel Miller Nipple Worship, almost sub!joel, for like 8 seconds max, sub to softdom!joel, unprotected Piv, nipple orgasm, premature ejaculation, come eating, thigh riding, fingering, Joel talks you through it. A/N - this ended up being something between a drabble and a fic. I don’t know what this is. God spoke to me and I listened.

Thank you thank you thank you @noxturnalpascal for cleaning this mess up, thank you @beefrobeefcal @tightjeansjavi and @joelsgreys for the encouragement I needed to finish this!

Joel’s sheets are scratchy yet soft, his walls are illuminated by the flickering light of his burning candles. Joel’s naked under his blankets, your naked body tangled up with his. Your head rests on his chest and you draw lazy patterns with your fingers on his soft, pillowy tummy as Joel reads Stephen King’s The Shining to you, turning the pages when he asks you to. This is your evening routine with him, and you’ll never tire of it. Sex first, then a shared shower, where Joel washes your hair and you wash his. He dries you off, then you go back to bed to snuggle and read a book together. You giggle at the way he always wears his glasses too far down his nose, and he lightly drags his nails along your scalp. His clean and masculine scent takes over your senses and that low, gravelly tone of his voice as he reads aloud to you usually puts you to sleep in no more than twenty minutes.

“Turn the page for me, hon,” Joel asks.

You’re not so tired tonight. You’re watching Joel’s chest rise and fall, lost in your own world and not really paying attention to his reading. Instead, you’re watching his skin erupt in goosebumps as you trace his chest, toying with his sparse chest hair, lightly teasing his nipples, they’re a dark sort of mauve-brown color. Joel’s breath hitches as they pebble beneath your touch.

He bounces his book lightly on the crown of your head. “You with me?”

“Mhm,” you hum, “Of course.”

“Mm,” Joel mumbles, not convinced. And he’s right to not believe you. You’re grinding against his thigh subtly, but not subtle enough for Joel to not notice. He smirks as you reach between his thighs, first cupping his balls and then playing with his cock, feeling him begin to thicken in your palm. “Ohh,” Joel grins, “That’s why you’re not listening.”

“I’m listening,” you reply, stroking his cock. It’s always such a satisfying feeling, running your thumb along the thickness of his head, feeling him twitch and grow harder.

“Are ya? What’s happening right now?”

“Wendy…”

“Wrong,” he interrupts, “Try again.”

“Jack–”

“Danny,” Joel corrects, “What’s Danny doin’?” You don’t know the answer to that question, of course you don’t. Because you’re too distracted by what’s happening in your hand. “Exactly,” Joel says. He sets his book down on his stomach, the pages split to mark his place. He reaches under the covers and wraps his hand around your wrist, halting your movements. “You wore me out tonight, kiddo. I don’t have it in me to go again.”

It’s true, you did wear Joel out. It had been a few days since you’d last had him, and you were missing him dearly. Joel was gone all day, and you’d watched all three Indiana Jones movies, which didn’t help your case in the least. Fuck it, you might even be ovulating. You’re not exactly keeping track. Whoops.

You practically tackled him when he walked through the door. Dinner was made and the table set, but it remained untouched as you let Joel know just how much you missed him. Scrambling to unbuckle his belt, you walked him backwards until the backs of his legs hit the couch and he sat down. You wasted no time shimmying off your pants and pulling his own halfway down his thighs. He guided you to straddle his lap, his already rock-hard cock held loosely between his fingers.

Usually he’ll tease you a bit, make you beg and ache and cry for it as he drags his tip through your folds, toy with your clit for a moment before notching himself at your entrance. Today, upon realizing the severity of your need for him, he pulled your hips down on his cock, burying himself in you entirely. He let you adjust to him, feel the stretch and the ache of him inside you. No fingers to warm you up, no tongue, he simply gave all of himself to you.

Once adjusted, he began to roll his hips, grunting in your ear as you moaned sweetly in his own. That patch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit, how his thick cock hit all of your sweetest spots with each of his deep, sloppy, and quick thrusts. He was relentless, just how you needed him. As he fucked you, he slid his hands up the softness of your tummy and your rib cage, then cupped your breasts, flicking and twisting your nipples with his fingertips.

Per your wishes, Joel had brought you to the edge and pushed you over it multiple times by the time it was all said and done. You came on his cock once and begged him to let you come once more, and then one more time after that before he finally let himself go. By the time you’d finished, the sun had gone down and dinner had gottencold. It could’ve been hours, and Joel was spent. He could hardly keep his eyes open in the shower, swaying back and forth as he flirted with the idea of falling asleep under the warm water running down his shoulders.

“I’ll do all the work, Joel,” you offer as you squeeze his cock. “I just need you for a second.”

“Charming. You lied to me twice just now,” Joel smirks, turning his head to look down at where your head rests on his shoulder. “Didn’t you?”

“No, of course not.”

“Oh, sure. You just need me for a second, huh? Can I time it?” You bite your cheek to hide your sheepish smile. You see his point, but you weren’t lying, just slightly misrepresenting the truth. “Yeah, and you know what else is a load of bullshit? I’ll do all the work, Joel,” he mocks, putting on his best girl voice and batting his eyelashes.

You’re definitely not lying about that, though. “It’s true,” you argue, “I’ll–”

“Yeah, right. You ain’t done a lick of hard work in your life. You got me in the palm of your hand and you don’t gotta lift a damn finger to get what you want. Do you?”

You’re not answering that. Instead, holding up your pinkie finger, you swear to Joel, “I promise, I’ll do it all.”

Joel eyes you suspiciously before holding up his pinkie finger as well. You link fingers, kiss your thumb as he kisses his own, then smush them together. “S’a deal now, my darlin’.”

Joel first takes off his glasses, then dog-ears the page of his book to mark his place in the story before he sets both down on his nightstand. He raises his hands in the air as if he’s surrendering to you. You pull down the blankets and straddle him, your already wet pussy grinding against his now fully-hardened cock. You smile mischievously, biting your bottom lip as you pin his wrists to the bed on either side of his head. “Goddamn,” he drawls, “Am I nothin’ but a piece of meat to ya?”

“Mhm,” you reply, kissing his cheek and then his lips.

Joel smiles against your lips, “Alright, sweet girl. Show me what you got,” he mumbles. You pull back and Joel waits patiently, his wrists still pinned under your palm as you decide what you’re gonna do to him. You start first by grinding yourself against his member, garnering an amused smile from him as his tip catches against your clit and you moan. “Very nice,” he praises, “Gimme some more.”

Still grinding on his cock, you kiss his lips again, then down his jaw, down his neck, biting and sucking as you do so. “No marks,” he warns, squeezing your ass.

“I know, Joel,” you whisper, continuing your trail of kisses down his chest, down his tummy and back up again. You line yourself up with his cock and sink down on him, experimentally licking a nipple at the same time. Joel shivers. You do it again, this time gently teasing his other nipple with your fingers.

“What are you doin’, kiddo,” Joel murmurs quietly.

“Nothing, Joel.”

“I think you’re lyin’ again. Think you’re causin’ trouble.”

“I’m taking care of you.”

“I don’t, fuck, I don’t know–” you hum against him, sending vibrations through his skin. You’re grinding on him as you do so, rubbing your clit against that patch of hair at the base of his cock, taking in all of him - the feeling of him inside you, how you’re pulsing around him. His smell, his warm and thick body underneath yours. He’s breathing heavily, little whimpers escaping his mouth as he squeezes your ass and your sides, his fingertips digging into your skin so hard it hurts. He seems almost desperate.

“Don’t know what, Joel?”

“I don’t - fuck, ohh god, please, please–” Holy fuck, he’s begging, and you didn’t even know he could do that. You’re not sure what he’s begging for - more, less, go, stop. “Why’re you teasin’ me like this, sweetheart, why’re–”

“I’m not doing anything, Joel,” you smile against his skin. You’re trying it all out now, with one of his nipples you’re using your fingers to twist and tease him, feeling him jolt and tremble with your touch. With your mouth, you’re using your tongue - tracing the outline of his areola, swirling your tongue in a spiral to reach his sensitive bud. And then you switch, using your tongue on the nipple previously occupied by your teasing fingertips.

“Bullshit. You’re—fuuuuuck,” Joel lets out a long groan, his cock twitching inside of you as he squirms underneath you. “I can feel you smirkin’.You’re testin’ my patience. You need, I need, Christ–you’re startin’ something you’re not gonna like finishing.”

He’s warning you that this might be a mistake, but this only fuels your fire. It’s always you who’s squirming and crying and whimpering, begging for god knows what as Joel grins above you, torturing your clit and promising you that it’ll all be okay, that you’re not gonna break.

You’ve got him reduced to a mess, he’s moaning and whimpering, breathing heavily with his eyes squeezed shut, his brows knit together. You can feel in his touch that he’s conflicted, squeezing you tighter yet itching to push you away. His skin is tingling, his balls tightening as you clench around him, still grinding yourself ever so slightly on his pelvis. You’re making a sloppy mess of his chest with your mouth, all spit covered as you circle his nipples with the tip of your tongue, rolling the bud gently and carefully between your teeth. It’s torturously pleasurable when you begin to suck and nip at his nipples and Joel thinks he’s gonna–

“Fuck, Christ, oh my god, oh my god, mmm-ohhhh.”

He’s spilling into you, surprising both you and himself. He comes loudly and desperately, all needy whimpers and cries as he pulses inside you, painting your insides with his warm, sticky spend. Grabbing you and holding you tight, his grip easing as his breaths begin to even and he eventually goes still. You rest on his chest, feeling him leak out of you. When you finally sit up to admire your work, Joel’s got his eyes closed, his cheeks are rosy. A few tears running down his face and when you wipe them away, he opens his eyes.

“You look proud of yourself,” he tells you. His tone is pointed yet quiet, like he’s bashful. “Learned a new trick, huh.”

“I did,” you smile. He’s gone soft inside of you and you get up off of him, but Joel pulls you back down. “Nuh-uh. Where do you think you’re going?”

“Just to the–”

“Sit back down. I ain’t finished with you,” Here it comes. You anticipated Joel getting revenge in some way or another, but you’re not sure how he plans to. Maybe he’ll lay you on your back, lick you until you cry the way you did to him. He might bring you to the edge over and over and over again, yet never push you past it. Or he’ll make you come until your legs twitch and shake uncontrollably, and you’re a sweaty, sobbing mess of overstimulation. He’s done it all before and you know he’s not opposed to doing it again. “You’re gonna hold up your end of the bargain. Do some hard work for once in your life.”

You begin to protest, “I already did.”

“That don’t count. You cheated and found a loophole. You wanted me, so you’re gonna have me,” You’re not sure what he means or what he wants from you. You thought you did already have him. “Get on your knees, kiddo,” Joel says, slapping his bare thigh. When you pause, Joel nudges you and guides you to straddle his thigh. “Like this,” he says.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure that out,” Joel drawls, “I gave you a hint already.”

He’s placed you on his thigh. He says you wanted him, so you’re gonna have him. But you’ve made him come already, so that means–

“I can’t do that.”

“You started this, you’re comin’ one way or another,” he says. “You’re not getting up until you do it. You’d best get to it.”

His tone is serious, but you’re sure this has to be some sort of game. He watches you, how you furrow your brows in confusion. Joel sits up and adjusts a few pillows behind himself, spreads his legs further apart and holds your ass cheeks in his big, strong hands. “Rock your hips f’me.”

Slowly, you rock your hips on his thigh. You can’t feel much except for the mess you’re making on his leg, your arousal and his spend. It’s all awkward - the clunky and graceless rolling of your hips, the quietness in the room as Joel watches you intently. You shift your thighs, holding on to one of Joel’s hips and one of his shoulders as you rock your hips, trying to feel anything at all. You do - just for a second, maybe. “Keep goin’,” he tells you while drawing lazy patterns on your thigh, but you’re not sure that you can keep going. The expectant look on Joel’s face has you feeling uncomfortable. Not the bad kind of we need to stop this now uncomfortable, but just sort of puzzled. Joel could have tortured you with his teasing and he probably would have gotten a better result. He seems to know this, so he begins to guide your hips again. You’re not sure how he does it, but he finds the perfect angle and he knows this when you moan for him, squeezing his shoulders tight. “Like that,” he instructs.

You do your best to mimic the action, but it’s just not happening. He must’ve been flexing his thigh, or the way he moved your hips is a way that you can’t replicate without help for some reason. Frustrated, you slump down onto his chest. “I can’t do it.”

“You’re gonna have to,” Joel coos.

You shake your head, “No, no. I want–just fuck me. I want you inside me, I can’t come without you inside me.”

“Yeah, I know you want me inside ya. Can’t do nothin’ about that on account of what you did to me, now can I?”

You whine and groan in irritation. “Then I need you to do the w–” you press your lips in a thin line. Oops.

“Work,” Joel adds for you, finishing your sentence. “S’that what I’m hearin’? You need me to do the work?” You nod your head, it’s worth a shot. Maybe. “Not gonna happen, hon. We shook on it.” You pout, whining and groaning again. Joel strokes the skin of your back, “Oh, I know, I know,” he coos, feigning sympathy. “Let this be a lesson to ya then, kiddo. You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.”

“Joel,” you protest.

“Joel,” he mocks. “Come on, get up. Get to work.” Joel pushes you back, forcing you to sit back up on his thigh. Generously, he helps you find that movement once more. Where your hips tilt at just the right angle and you can feel the pressure of his thick thigh against your clit. “Right there,” you gasp, holding his hand on your hip. “Nuh-uh,” Joel shakes his head and pulls his arms back, crossing them on his tummy.

It’s okay. You’re gonna figure this out. You brace yourself on Joel’s shoulders as you search for that sweet spot on your own. Within a couple of minutes, you think you find it. You’re alternating between feeling good, better, worse, then to worse, good, and better. At moments it’s great, and then it just…disappears. And at this point, you’re exhausted. It’s been god knows how long since you even found yourself on Joel’s lap in the first place. You groan, resigning yourself to defeat. You’re about to get off of Joel’s thigh when he grabs your bicep. “Aw, come on kiddo. You givin’ up that easy?”

“Yeah,” you tell him, your tone saying all that you’re feeling. Dejection, frustration, disappointment.

Joel shakes his head, “M’not lettin’ ya.”

“Joel–”

“Deep breath in and out for me,” he instructs, and you roll your eyes. He repeats himself, “Deep breath. In. And. Out. Do it now.” And so, not wanting to make this any worse for yourself and just wanting to get it over and done with, you close your eyes. You breathe in deeply, letting your tummy expand with his instruction, then exhale your breath fully. “You need to settle down,” he says as you continue your breaths. “S’it. Nice an’ slow.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, “It’s just hard.”

“Know it’s hard. What’d we talk about though, hm? Hard work, right?” you nod your head, “Yeah,” Joel says, “I know. You’re gonna work for it, sweet girl. I’ve been spoilin’ ya.” A few more deep breaths, and Joel speaks again, “M’not gonna do it for you, but I’ll walk you through it if you’d like.”

“Yes,” you beg, your eyes flying open. “Please. Help me.”

“Least you’ve still got your manners,” Joel smiles. He reaches for your knees then, spreading them wide. “Tilt your hips forward, sweetheart, and rock ‘em on me,” he tells you. “What feels good? Back and forth, left and right?”

“Back and forth.”

“Then do it.”

And so you do it, just like you’ve been doing this whole goddamn time. Joel watches in your face that you’re not quite there yet, but he encourages you anyway. “That’s it, you’re gettin’ it. Tilt down a bit.”

You’re rocking your hips on his thigh, grinding against him, and with his advice it finally, finally feels good. “Fuck,” you moan.

“Again,” he instructs, “Keep goin’.”

You grind on him, this time with more intent. Faster and harder, having found that sweet feeling that’s beginning to build in the pit of your stomach, you savor it.

“Good girl,” Joel praises. And then as if to reward you for your hard work, Joel reaches between your thighs and finds your clit with his middle and ring fingers, giving you something extra to enjoy. He’s circling your clit as you move your hips, and when that feeling in your stomach begins to build, you ride him more intensely, chasing after that high you so desperately need, that you’ve worked so hard for.

“Need it–need you, Joel, don’t stop, don’t–”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere. Take your time, kiddo, I’m right here.”

“You’re here,” you nod, your brows furrowed together and you’re almost unable to speak, too focused on the prospect of release.

Your velvety folds soaked in Joel’s come and your own arousal. “I’m– fuck, Joel, I’m close,” you moan.

“I know you are, keep goin’,” Joel coos, “You’re right there, just let it happen. Gimme a good one, sweetheart,” You feel your orgasm building to a new edge when you hear him say, “Come for me.”

All it takes is that one command, laced with Joel’s encouragement, and you’re sent tumbling over the edge. Your long-awaited orgasm begins at your core and travels through you, washing over you with pulsing waves of pleasure. “Joel,” you moan breathless and needy, writhing on top of him. You feel it everywhere, in your spine and down your thighs. Your clit twitching, your walls pulsing around nothing as you ride him.

“That’s it, kiddo, there it is. Good girl,” Joel coos. “Did so good.”

With a soft moan, you fall limp next to Joel, steadying your breath.

A moment passes. “Finish the job,” he whispers.

“What are you talking about?”

“You made your mess on me, so you’re gonna clean it up. Part of the deal, sweetheart,” Joel gestures to your combined arousal on his thigh, then swipes his middle two fingers through the mess and pushes it between your lips, “You know what to do. Lick it up,” he instructs.

It’s not lost on him, the hypocrisy of having you clean up a mess that he had you make. But like he asked, you do it. You’ll do it every time he asks. He holds your hair back as you lick the mess from his thigh, savoring that slightly salty, masculine flavor he knows you love. “Such a good girl. You ready to go to sleep?”

“No,” you yawn, and Joel puts on his glasses again, opens the book back up and reads you the story. You’re sleeping on his chest in minutes.

If you enjoyed, please please please reblog, leave me a comment, or send me an ask. Your words go a long way and keep me motivated to write 🩷

Forgot to add cat pics!!! I add these at the end of my fics now

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