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joelsgreys · 6 months

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someone to be thankful for

DBF! Joel Miller x Female Reader

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

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

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

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

word count: 11.5k

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

You take a deep breath and look in the mirror.

Skirt pressed, not a wrinkle in sight.

Hair brushed, not a single strand out of place.

Makeup done, not a blemish to be seen.

And somehow, someone will still find something.

Something to point out.

Something to comment on.

Something to criticize.

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

Because someone always had something to say.

“Should you be eating all of that?”

“Another year gone and still no boyfriend?”

“Don’t you want to get married?”

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

Boundaries didn’t exist on Thanksgiving.

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

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

You groan outwardly.

There’s still plenty left to do?

How’s that even fucking possible?

You’ve been cooking and baking since sunrise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nods, returning to her board.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well?”

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

“She’s family.”

“She’s a jerk.”

“You crossed a line.”

“She crossed it first.”

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

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

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

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

Your throat instantly goes dry at the sight of him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s really not that long.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s here for your father.

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

You force back a small, amused snort.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nodding, your father begins the prayer.

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

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

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

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

“…through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

“Amen,” your relatives chime together in unison.

You force out the declaration. “Amen.”

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

Dinner’s fairly uneventful.

You eat in complete silence, as does Joel.

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

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

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

“You became a teacher?”

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

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

You stare at him in complete and utter disbelief.

“Dad.”

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

But he does mean it.

His comments hurt, and you hate that they hurt.

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

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

You shoot him a small, grateful smile.

The two of you wind up talking to one another.

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

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

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

“You plan on stayin’ out there permanently?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hushed laughter sweeps across the entire table.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You stare at him in surprise.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Needed to make sure you’re okay.”

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

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

His concern is genuine. It’s real.

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

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

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

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

It’s odd. Feels foreign, even.

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

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

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

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

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

He feels like stability.

He feels like security.

He feels like safety.

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

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

He repeats his reassurance over and over again.

He wants you to believe it.

And you do believe it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But Joel—”

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

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

“Okay,” you relent, accepting the offer.

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

“Yeah, I’m good.”

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

“I am. Thank you, Joel.”

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

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

“M’sorry the place is such a mess.”

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

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

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

“S’it pretty bad?”

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

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

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

He seems pleasantly surprised by your interest.

“Lone Star.”

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

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

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

“Here you go, darlin’.”

Joel’s deep voice shatters your train of thought.

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

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

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

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

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

“You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugs. “You said it was cold.”

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

“You feelin’ alright?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he does answer, because he does know.

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

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

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

“She’s wrong.”

“You don’t know what happened.”

“I don’t have to know what happened.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” His voice sounds hoarse. Strained.

“Can you—will you kiss me? Please?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The tension seeps through your skin and into your bones.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He sighs again and lightly shakes his head.

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

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

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

Your touch erases all the uncertainty he’s feeling.

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

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

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

Your throbbing center clenches around nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You giggle breathlessly. “Who needs a bed?”

Chuckling, Joel feathers a kiss on your inner thigh.

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

“Joel.”

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

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

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

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

Frantically, you nod your head.

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

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

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

Joel raises an eyebrow. “Daddy, huh?”

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

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

He fucking likes being called Daddy.

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

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

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

You nod obediently. “Yes.”

“Yes what?” he prompts.

“Yes, Daddy.”

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

For a split second, you can’t breathe.

This man will surely be the death of you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re milliseconds away from release.

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

His arm squeezes your thigh in encouragement.

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

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

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

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

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

You immediately snatch your hand away from him.

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

You’re just so fucking greedy for this man.

He offers reassurance—and an explanation.

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

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

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

You smile, finding his embarrassment endearing.

“I’m on birth control.”

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

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

That’s all he needed to hear.

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

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

You swallow harshly. He’s fucking massive.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me get the blanket—”

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

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

“But baby, you’re cold—”

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

“Just hold me. Please.”

And that’s exactly what he does.

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

“Joel?”

“Yeah, darlin’?”

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

“Do you, now?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’d do that for me?”

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

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

divider credit to @saradika-graphics 🤎

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

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consciouschunkofmoss · 1 year

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additional theory

#did kinbott and thornhill know each other ?#or was the latter already so ahead within her schemes that upon visiting the hospital she saw the flowers as an opportunity ?#(for framing. i mean)#it sounds all very fitting #but i dont remember them explaining this later on #ill always take the most hurtful path though #so thinking of them as initially a strang amalgamation of friends. them being the supposed supporting figures as normies to outcasts #and grow this 'work' bond which drew them closer to one another #maybe as outsiders to a place they should feel like they belong #yet ultimately dont #be it jericho itself or even more so the community of outcasts #(i hate using terms like that please dont lose respect for me)#only to have laurel's plan slowly corrode their small relationship to give space into a proper upkeeping of her image and safety #damage control. self preservation. etc etc #leading then as a fine act on betrayal to her framing and death #(held over by tyler in proxy of laurel herself nonetheless)#just rambling #i like to think about kinbott's aesthetic #and how it would have played more nicely into the drama #if given more potential to showcase itself in general #(before her dying. as backstory really doesnt count in my mind)

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salaciousdoll · 9 months

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· · The Rich Farmer's Daughter Turned Town's Slut · ·

From City Girl to Farmer’s daughter, oh how will you ever survive on the countryside? The answer is simple: fucking.

･˳ . ⋆ Reporting Live with Eren Yeager, Zeke Yeager, Yelena, Armin Arlert, Jean Kirtstein, Connie Springer, Oyankopon, Sasha Braus, Mikasa Ackerman,Annie Leonhart, Miche(Mike)Zacharias, Erwin Smith,Nile Dok, Historia Reiss, Ymir, Kenny Ackerman, Levi Ackerman, Porco Galliard, Reiner Braun, Hange Zoe, Pieck Finger, Eren Kruger, Keith Shadis, Theo Magath x chubby!Bimbo!Fem! reader ･˳ . ⋆

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Warnings : First part is in fic format, second part is in Drabble/headcannons format, Confident chubby girl, Smut, threesomes, foursomes, fivesomes, group sex, wlw, reader is bisexual, Sasha x Mikasa is shown a little bit( no I don’t ship, if you do this is the place for you), dildo usage( double ended dildos too), dacryphillia, heavy Bimbo activities implied here, very self indulgent but anyone can read, outfits are describe for a reason here( only because I like Bimbo farmers daughter aesthetic), chubby!reader, rich black farmers and daughter, dirty talk, cock warming on Erwin’s part, big exhibition here, Kenny is the bad guy who wants your father’s crops, could be considered dubcon on his part, reader is very dumb, fucked dumb too, implied protected/unprotected sex, this is fictional so none of that sick shit applies here but please do not go around doing this without protection( wrap up), reader is in her early 20s( 21-24), age gaps all throughout this story( some big, some not), dominant characters( Mikasa, Annie, Levi, Erwin, miche, Keith, Kruger, etc.), pet names ( bunny, sl*t, wh0re, pretty girl, town’s sl*t, princess, doll, doll face, butterfly, sweat pea, etc.) body fluids( squirting, cumming, spit swapping), bondage( handcuffs/ swimsuit used as handcuffs), use of strap on, oral receiving and giving, descriptions of body hair, pussy/dick visuals, tattooed eren!, reader could be implied to be a nympho here, degradtation/ praise, breeding kink, grisha lurking for him and Carla. Basically you fuck everyone damn!, have fun and if im missing something let me know.

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Word Count : 14.4k, longest fic I’ve ever written

18+, Minors do not interact

PSA from me : I wanted to write this to celebrate me hitting 4K followers, so I hope you all enjoy. Thank you all for 4K followers <333 And for the love of anything, please do not do none of this stuff with strangers like the reader did in this fic, if you happen to, wrap it up!!

Also credit to @bimbohub for the farmer’s daughter inspiration, so sorry I didn’t tag you when I publish it, mainly because I forgot but yes I want to thank you for making that fic and giving me inspiration for it<33

Jujutsu Kaisen Version Tokyo Revengers Version

You remember the time you first learned about your move to the town you wanted no relation to ever since your visit when you were 8 years old.

Summer days were upon you as you came home from a long year of college. You were only in college because your parents forced you to go, otherwise you would’ve just set up a camera in your room and gave older men shows in order to get money. Being in your early twenties is a curse because now you had to actually do adult things and adulting wasn’t for you at all.

In college, you didn’t understand anything about what you learned, especially with the business major you’re forced to take up. Bad on your parents part because you didn’t even know what a mortgage is and how it’s gonna benefit you. You didn’t know or care about things like that, but you passed— only because you convinced the nerdy boy next to you to give you the answers to every test you took and every project you needed to complete. The speeches you had to give in front of the class were all of his words and he stood there smiling because the pretty girl finally gave him the attention he wanted. And you did. You actually found him useful and pretty, he just needed to fix up his looks and that was the deal you proposed to him and he took it with no problem. You even added that he was gonna finally feel and taste how bubble gum tastes if you passed.

So now you were back home and staring up at your father and mother who had the biggest smiles on their face. The next words that fell out of their mouths after congratulating you for even finishing your second year of college were horrifying. “ We’re going down to Napeville, your grandfather has now retired his position as a farm owner and your father wanted to take control of it since he was trained his entire childhood.” Your mother finished her statement and your gum popped on your face as you stared at her with wide eyes.

You stare without blinking as your dad grabbed your suitcases on the side of you bringing them into the house, “ Why?! Can’t you just go down there on your own pops’, gramps only wanted you to go down there right?!…Wait are we moving down the-” your father came back out again to grab your bag you had in the trunk of your car— afterwards stopping in front of you when he retrieved the bag from the car. “ Yes, my little pumpkin, we’re moving down there. Aren’t you glad to go back there? I’ll even teach you all about farming if you want.”, Your father said as he smiled at you. You in fact did not want any of that shit. You only remembered the ugly house and barn your grandparents had you and your parents staying in. Being 8 years old, you remembered the faces of the people down there and let’s just say you aren’t gonna find love down there if they all looked and act the way they did when you were 8. Farming life was boring compared to what you were planning to do with your friends this summer. They were not gonna ruin this for you so you proposed a deal with them, hoping they’ll listen.

“ Hmm, what if I just go down there in the summer and come back up here to go back to school and you, my dear pops’ can buy me an apartment! The smartest idea I’ve ever came up with right?!!”, You say, with your arms wrapped around the neck of your dad hugging him from the side. Your mother wanted so badly to facepalm because that was a stupid idea, but she couldn’t say because you are her daughter and you are very sensitive.

Your father removed your arms off his neck and gave you his stern look, “ Enough, { reader}! You know better than to argue with us and besides you don’t even have a good paying job to afford an apartment months rent, especially for the apartment you are tryna’ get for yourself.” You pucker your lips out while huffing, “ Okay okay, I’ll get another one.” Your father shook his head and went inside the now almost empty house.

You stopped and looked around to see the way your house looked and gasped loudly as your parents continued what they are doing, “ Ma’, where’s our stuff, did you have an yard sale without me knowing, why didn’t you tell me because I wanted to keep that love seat we had and put it in my room.”

Your mother sighed loudly before turning to you, “ {reader}, honey, if we just said that we’re moving, what does that mean to you? What do most people do when they move?” She was already tired of packing up most of her and your equipment while you were off at college doing God knows what. You didn’t really check in with them like you used to do in your first year.

You almost narrowed your eyes at her, but decided not to do it since you didn’t feel like getting yelled at for looking at her like that. Answering whilst twirling the string of chewed up gum around your index finger, “ Um, we move. I don’t know ma’, it’s too much to think about really. Anyways, since I clearly have no choice but to obey you two, I’m gonna hang out with my friends for the last time.”

Your mother rolled her eyes as she put the tape on the last box you all had before you tidy up the move from this house to your farming house, “ be back before 12, you may be grown, but you’re still my child living under my rules.” You nodded your head and bit your tongue to stop you from saying something or rolling your eyes.

You were excited to see your bitches again but before you were off, you took out your phone and texted your friends that you wanted to roller skate like the old times. You put your phone away without their answers to your text and walked to where your mother just walked to, “ Ma’, which box are my baby pink and blue roller skates in? Need them for my girly time today.” Your mother walked to a box and kicked it towards you prior to walking off to finish what she was doing.

You opened the box, thanking the heavens that she didn’t box them up with that ugly tape. “ Aww I missed you babies so much, I bet you kissed your mommy just as much.” Your father wanted to really question if you got this personality from your moms side of the family so he asked, “ She got that shit from your side not mine, baby.”

You paid no mind to what the two of them were whispering about as you grabbed your roller skates in your baby pink manicured hands. Hurrying out the house before you got called back in to pack up something they missed, you walked down your stairs to your car. You honestly should’ve taken the hint that you all were moving when you saw the moving truck on the side of your parents car in the garage way. You smiled as you walked to your baby pink and white G-Wagon, “ I’ll make my last night worth it for sure.” You talked to yourself a lot since you were an only child and found a friend in yourself before you found friends. You looked down at your outfit and smiled, your tits looked yummy and your thighs did too.

The memory was four weeks ago and you were now driving your car in silence while following your mom and dad leads to the Legendary farm house. You were leaving so much behind. Your bed, your friends, college associates, your favorite nerd, now who’s gonna help you pass your classes. You huffed to yourself, still following after your parents to the next town you were going to have to adjust to. You were going to miss the stores you got to shop at, the malls were your favorite and least favorite because it was a hit or miss with the brookefield mall. Being the size you were was not a guarantee that you were going to find something in the mall for you, so when you found that one store that sold cute clothes in your size, you had no choice but to max out with your pops’ black card. You were also glad for the mall and of course the internet because you got to shop for new clothes prior to coming to this small town.

You were going to miss the boys and girls in that city. You were gonna miss Hitch and Boris, your main two toys you like to play with. Both were hot and were everything you needed to get by. The city was full of whores and now you gotta move to the country where they are so holy and thou there. Ewww, you're gonna hate it there.

By the time you all arrived at the house you were blown out of your mind when you looked up at the farm house. It was incomparable to the farmhouse you knew from your childhood. This town was so different from how it used to be, it used to be quiet and old looking now it looks a little loud and modern, you were so stuck because you thought of the farmhouse that looked like a cottage house with a big barn behind it like it used to look, now it looks too luxurious— to your liking. The house had big glass windows with a black wooden roof and a big riva double eyebrow 4-lite steel Iron, glass door to greet you. Honestly, the gate when you first entered gave it away that this was going to be different, but you didn’t even think about it because you’re too busy listening to your favorite playlist right now in the act of sucking on your blue cotton candy sucker.

The gate was long and you bet it was even longer than you actually think, your grandpa was full of surprises. The ride to the house was even longer. Nothing but acres of grass mountains and grasslands plus a few animals standing there greeted you as you drove to the house. You were so glad because your hands hurt from driving all night and the sight of sheep somehow made you brighter than before. Once you parked the car on the pavement of the garage behins the moving truck, you got out and looked at it stomping your red and white gingham platform heels on the ground at the sandy dirt on your tires, “ fucking dirt roads, hate them so much.” Your parents were already hugging your cousin while you were grumbling about your tire and car having dirt on it. You decided to wear red and white today to match the cherry red nails with cherry charms on them. You also wanted to try to fit into the countryside by wearing this, after all, you were now a farmer’s daughter.

Your cousin's smile brightens once she sees you come to her with your arms out, “ Bubbles!” You screamed out as you hugged her and she screamed your nickname right after, and the country accent was heard loud and clear. You figured that she must’ve been lonely as hell here because this place was huge and it looks like she’s the only one here.

“ If you’re looking for grandpa, he’s at his house around the corner from here.”, Your cousin said as she brought you inside the house. It was so neutral and blended inside compared to the outside. You almost wanted to puke from the smell of discoloration this house reeks of. So plain and boring.

“ pops’, are we going to go see him later or something?”, you yelled throughout the house since you were walking up the stairs. You heard an answer but didn’t bother to actually listen because your cousin was pulling you to your room she set for you. It was a room you never would have even step foot into a few weeks ago but now you had no choice, at least the bed was big just like your bed at home. Home. You missed it already.

Your cousin then gave you a cola she got out of the little fridge you guessed she stocked in your room, “ How thoughtful of you, { cousin’s name}. Seems like you didn’t change at all.” Your cousin smiled at your comment before taking your hand to go back down stairs to the movie truck, “ And you did. Not in a bad way, sugs. Just didn’t expect you to be like dis’ gotta say you look so gorgeous with that outfit and hairstyle but that’s not what we wear out chea’. Anyways I’ve called my friends and the people your father and I know over here before y’all arrived. You’re gonna love them. They all offered to help with these heavy ol’ boxes here.”

You furrowed your eyes because exactly how many of them are going to come. You start guessing in your head and thought your brain felt like it was combusting. Too much thinking again, so you just smiled. You started to stare off into space until your cousin snapped her fingers in front of your face, “ Hey hey, we gotta get some of these boxes out of chea’, we’re having tons of fun later, silly so let’s get this started now. It’s about 11 am right now, we all should be able to finish by 9, perfect time too.”

You stared at her like she was the sheep in the backyard before grabbing the lightest box, carrying it to the entrance while she carried two boxes, “ What’s happening at 9?”

Your cousin was about to say something when a group of men and women were walking towards you all. You were so confused on who they were because your family skin didn’t look like any of them, yet they’re here smiling at your cousin like they’re family. As you were standing there in a daze— occasionally sucking on your cherry sucker with glossy strawberry lip gloss wrapped around the sucker and the half of the stick.

You didn’t even notice that they got closer and were all standing before you staring at you in awe while you looked up at the sky, stuck like a robot. You blinked when you heard the whispers and gasp with a puzzled look on your face, “ Oh oh, hi hi, I spaced out and wasn’t paying attention to you all. My name is { your name}, nice to meet you all.” You flashed a smile and Armin almost fell for you right there. They all could tell you were a city girl and the accent proved it. They would also know because they’re all from the city too, not yours though.

Eren eyed you up and down with a toothpick hanging out his mouth. He had to get you under him because there was no way you were taking by the way you were dressing. You had on a red and white gingham top that tied in the front pushing up your boobs even more with your pudgy stomach showing— slightly protruding over your v waist, blue Jean short shorts that almost showed your ass if you bent down. Your face was so gorgeous, chubby cheeks when you smile and pretty lips to top it off, he couldn’t wait to know more about you. You were the perfect girl they all were looking for, the excitement and for some, the rush— just wait until the older men and women of the group caught sight of you. Right now it was just him, Armin, Jean, Reiner, Mikasa, Annie, Floch, Pieck, Colt , Connie, Sasha, Porco, Historia, and Ymir .

They all introduced themselves to you and your legs were almost shaking from their voices, especially the women. Eyeing each of them as they were now headed to the truck. You saw things you liked about them, for now. Eren has arm tattoos that made him even more attractive and long hair that you wanted to run your fingers through, Armin looks like the nerd you had back home just more handsome with his lil cowboy boots on, Mikasa had a red scarf wrapped around her neck with overalls on. She looked so cute. Annie had on pants that showed off her thighs really well and eyes that sealed you in, Sasha was obviously a foodie because she’s been smacking on another bag of fruit snacks since they’ve walked up. She was a beauty. A real one.

Ymir and Historia were attached each other with matching colors on, which made them look adorable. One had on jeans and a shirt with combat boots while the other one had her hair down in a middle part with a cute overall dress and tank top under it. Their boots even matched. Yeah they were indeed a couple, but you still had thoughts.

Flock’s hair was a little disturbing but his eyes were beautiful; he has potential. Now Reiner was big and beefy with a cowboy hat planted on top of his head and you were getting more attracted to him when he turned around to go inside the house— his chest was the first thing you saw. May those two buttons never come back together with their little holes because whew does he look so good! Jean was someone you never thought you would keep your eyes on consistently. You liked that he was taller than everyone here and he carried himself like he’s a leader, you love a man who owns the power of authority. You don’t know why, you just do.

Porco was good looking as well and you could tell he was hard to everyone else but gentle to people he liked. A beautiful boy indeed. Colt was shy but talkative to his peers he’s been around, he was a cutie. Now pieck was someone you wanted first, she’s so pretty and mesmerizing. So beautiful that you didn’t even realize that she was in front of you bending down to pick up the box you set down in front of you. You watched her get up and throw a little smile your way, “ You can’t be spacing out like this a lot, pretty girl. Don’t want you to get hurt in the future. So, can you help me carry this last box inside, it’s in the truck.” You laughed before walking ahead of her to the truck whilst she watched your ass jiggle as you walked in front of her. You were definitely gonna be the new talk around town now.

Indeed you were by 9 pm, you were done with everything— unpacking, showing you around your new home led by your cousin as the rest stayed just to talk more with you. Afterwards , they all asked to hang out with you at the bar a few minutes away from where you stay and so you did go. Greatest mistake on your part because from there on out, you were the talk of the town.

✧˖° Eren Yeager + Zeke Yeager, Yelena with grisha lurking + in Eren’s living room

The first time you met Zeke and Yelena was at Pipsy’s Bar— the one you went to when you first moved here. You didn’t really talk with either of them because you stayed close to your cousin and Eren’s crew. However, just because you didn’t talk with them doesn’t mean you weren’t the topic of the conversation they had at their own table.

Just as Zeke asked Yelena to look into who you were, his widened at you getting body shots on the pool table by his little brother. The way your body shook underneath Eren’s as he licked down your boobs to your stomach made his dick hard and yelena wet. They both wanted you and had to get a chance to talk to you one way or another

Today was their lucky day, especially Yelena’s because she was supposed to be somewhere else today, but Zeke asked to hang out at his house. They were on the couch and their hormones heightened as you walked through the door of their farmhouse with your baby-pink polka dot strapless tube top with a white shirt skirt on. Your heels compliment your outfit and legs so well. Yeah, today was gonna be a good day today

Friday afternoon was something you wanted for a long time. Your mini skirt was bunched up your stomach, panties long gone. With the twist of your dark nipples in between Eren’s fingers, he moved inside of your pussy with desperation of your hot and slippery pussy. He was so breathy underneath you. His chest glistened as he pant out your name in a hush tone . You on the other hand was too busy trying to please Zeke with your mouth around his coke can thick tip. Zeke groaned when you locked your jaw around his pink tip, “ Stop - uh- stop fucking looking at me with those doll like eyes, Angel. Makes me wanna’ take you away from everyone and grow my own farm filled with as many animals as you want and during that time our babies will walk around with their shoes off exploring our farm.”

Eren grunted out as you clenched around his heavy cock, “ Fuck no! She’s mine, Zeke. Get your own slut. Yelena’s, umph shit! She’s right there.” Eren leaned forward to take your nipples into his mouth, needing to shut his own ass up before he ruined this moment by arguing with his pinhead ass brother. Yelena was too busy fingering herself to her tongue exploring your ass cheeks— all the way down to your convulsing asshole. It looked proper and good to not put her tongue inside. In the process of eating your ass, her large hands were spreading you open, so Eren’s big balls and her tongue can now move freely.

Zeke put his hands on your chubby cheek with a low smirk on his face, his glasses long gone off his face letting you see what exactly his eyes are saying when they look at you. Your mouth was getting tired of hollowing around Zeke’s tip and at the same time your body shook against Eren’s body and Yelena’s mouth. You were about to lift your mouth off of the older brother’s cock to moan, but your moans were soon dancing along Zeke’s thick dick. His tip hit the back of your throat, making diamond tears fill up your eyes, they eventually traveled down your eyes causing your mascara to drip down your face. Zeke cooed at you with a little grunt and hum— moving inside of you with a sharp snap of his hips, “ Ah Yes, the face of a whore. The face I love seeing on many. Ughh! So fucking pretty taking all three of us at the same time.”

Eren hissed when you squeezed around his dick causing him to almost knock his knees together out of pleasure. He reached to grab your plushy love handles, holding them in his rough hand, “ Fuck, baby! Fuck me back like you’re doing.” And then he massages your love handles in between his long fingers that had cold rings on them. “ Thought I didn’t feel the little roll of your hips and thick thighs clamping around my hips. Think again. Now give me this pussy I’ve longed for. Fuck~”, Eren said as his rings cooled down your sweaty and hot love handles.

Their dirty talking was getting to you so bad. Yelena was now standing up after detaching her lips from your puckering hole with just a long string of saliva— she was behind you with a finger probing your ass and sloppy kisses on your back, “ Gonna’ let me use this ass of your sweetheart… nah, I think I might just open you up for the others, my debt to them.” You couldn’t even focus on her sultry voice uttering those foreshadow ass words because your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, ears popping and body shaking from their overstimulation on all three of your holes. Zeke groaned and came into your mouth at the same time as Eren cumming inside the condom— breaking it in the process. Some of his cum leaked into your pussy and you couldn’t do anything but squirm on him and Grind on Yelena’s finger. You swallowed Zeke’s nut with a few coughs prior to wiping off your mouth and chin.

Eren was still snapping his hips into you slowly just when his pretty emerald, green eyes fell upon you— he was truly enticed by you. Meanwhile, your head was thrown back on Yelena’s chest allowing you to moan out loud— nothing but pleasure coming out your mouth. “ Ahhh~ please, please. It feels so good, rennie, Zekey, lena’. Feels s’good. Mmm .” Your voice was so loud after popping Zeke’s semi-limp dick out of your mouth that Grisha, who stood on the second floor banister staring intensely at the three of you with lust filled eyes, heard everything from the fucking start. He wanted you, now. You were exquisite in his eyes, far too exquisite to make him of all people interested, dangerous even. He so wanted to jerk off, but he’ll just replay the ring camera set up in his living room over, maybe he and Carla could have alone time with you, she’s been asking for a threesome for a while. His sons were so dumb to not even know he was home or maybe they didn’t care. Grisha walked off humming to himself, he’ll let his fellow friends and wife know about you.

✧˖° Armin, Jean, and Connie + back of Jean’s pickup truck

Word got around the small town faster than the plague. Whispers were heard here and there and you had no clue it was all about sweet little you. You were too busy sucking on the pink lollipop that was in your mouth while watching the sheep’s make noise and walk around your big spacious backyard, the only thing that’s separating you from them is the wooden field gate. You took in the fresh air while smiling to yourself. This was your ‘you’ time. Nothing could interrupt this.

Except for a laugh Connie bucked out— walking into the backyard as your parents were yelling out that they’re leaving to visit your grandpa, whom you visited last week with sore legs, thanks to those three. How humiliating they left you. Your view of the green grassland was invaded by Jean Kirtstein with his hands on his hips.

Armin walked to your little lake in the yard petting and talking to the animals having their daily snack on the grass. As for Connie he was too busy admiring your look, your fashion sense screamed Bimbo and he adored it. He always snuck glances at you whenever you weren’t looking or he was goofing off with his friends. He was interested in you, that’s why he wanted to come but Jean and Armin decide to come as well fucking up his plan.

He was admiring your pink Diesel T- Angie shirt that showed off the print of your boobs perfectly to the tight jeans you wore and down to your pink cowgirl boots. Up until Jean grabbed your hand and led you to his big pickup truck, driving off with Connie and Connie on the side of you. They wanted to take you on the ride, away from your house to have their alone time with you.

Indeed they’re plan was a success because now you were in the back of Jean’s pick up truck getting plowed into from the behind by Connie’s cock— around 7.5 inches and thick. Jean took your mouth as he laid down in front of you whilst Armin took pictures of this interaction with your used sucker in his mouth. He was glad that he came with them after being on his farm catering to his father’s chicken coup. He needed a break and you were the perfect person to help him relax. He recorded the way your lips sucked in Jean’s lengthy cock in your mouth with a shuddered breath as he watched. You were fucking Insatiable, almost everyone in the small town thought so.

“ Fucking hell, She’s sucking me like it’s her last taste of ramen noddles, shit~.”, Jean rasped out as he moved your hair out of his vision from seeing you. Connie has your pink heart-shaped Moschino glasses on his eyes as he grabs your ass cheeks in his hands as he hits you from the back. Connie reached to Armin handing him your shoes that was on its way coming off from getting fuck on the truck’s tailgate, “ Here, seems like the slut of the hour just can’t keep up with us after all.”, He snickered before slapping your ass, “ her shoe came off. Now watch and see how she reacts when I do this. Jean keep fucking her face like that, sounds so slutty. Make sure she can’t breathe.”

Your cunt squeezed around Connie— a reaction to his dirty words. You popped Jean’s dick out your wet mouth and looked back at Connie with low fucked-out eyes, “ Please, mmph, keep fucking me like this, I want Armin too. Please Armin, wanna see your cock, wan’ it in my ass because of how pretty it is.” Connie folded right then and there. Yeah he was gonna get you to breed you for that shit. Armin sucked in a breath as he set his phone up on the inside of the truck before looking out to the opening of the dirt road both ways.

And so they did what you asked with a few taunts from Connie and persuasion from Jean for Armin to join without looking out for anybody— I mean after all this is a dead end. You were now all fully on the truck fucking like rabid bunnies. Armin whimpers we’re so pretty, you were kinda glad that Jean is fucking your mouth without any room left to breathe because you were going to cum to the sight of Connie’s pretty red face below you. You felt so full and they felt so good.

Jean yanked your hair to his dick holding you there with a loud moan erupting from his throat, “ My sweet sweet girl, fu-uhhh~” you tried to push your head off his dick, but he patted your head and whispered, “ a little bit longer bunny.” Jean’s cum leaked out of your mouth and mixed with your spit that was lathering his dick caused Armin to snap. Armin came inside of your ass with a loud cry, “ So perfect for me, Honey. So damn perfect.” At the moment of clenching around his cock with your tight hole. Anal was not easy but Armin made it easy for you by prepping you with his spit, lube out of Jean’s truck, and his fingers. He was the perfect person to break your anal virginity.

Connie came into his condom with a loud groan and chants of your name. Armin laughed at the shakes and final thrusts he did, “ Looks like you couldn’t handle her, Connie.” Connie rolled his eyes with a hard lip bite in the process of both of them starting to fuck slowly into you again to let you catch your second orgasm, you didn’t even know you had the first one. Jean pulled out your mouth leaning to hold your cheeks squeezing them together to make more mess of your big cheeks squeezed— covered with spit, cum, and sweat, “ You’ve done so well, my pretty, chubby bunny. Cum for daddy, bunny. Cum for all of us.” You snapped when he mentioned the one word that always got you off.

Your eyes couldn’t see that it was dark outside because your vision was white as you came in Connie’s dick causing him to jump and whine from the tightening around his cock, “ Fucking vixen you are.” They all laughed while you came back to reality, now seeing that it’s dark as hell outside and the only source of light was the flashlight Connie reached to turn on during the time he was digging inside of you. This was the best decision you parents could’ve made because since that move you’ve been getting pleasure. You may not even go back to the city college and just find one down here, who knows.

✧˖° Onyankopon + your kitchen

Onyankopon caught your eyes as soon as he stepped into your pupil's sight. He was so fine and you craved him. Reminds you of your ex from the way he smiled at you. He was a horse trainer and you were gonna get him to train you to ride horses. You don’t even necessarily want to learn, you just want him to speak a lot because his voice was so deep and sexy. And so you asked your dad can you ask him to train you as he was pulling the crops with his ugly yellow gloves.

You already knew the answer because you always got what you wanted from him and your mother. So, you decided to pick out an outfit and do your hair. The outfit was a off shoulder shirt with pink ribbons on the arms and top of it with pink shorts and black and pink cowgirl boots. Your hair was in your hairstyle but in a ponytail with a big pink ribbon to hold it together.

And so onyankopon taught you about how to be calm around horses to not piss them off. Oysnkopon was trying so hard not to look at your ass and body jiggle as you rode the horse listening to every word he says while making purposeful mistakes.

Afterwards you asked the famous question, “ Why are you called a cowboy then, if you ride horses, shouldn’t you be called a horse boy or something? I’m confused”. Onyankopon stood there contemplating on how he should answer this because it was a good and stupid question.

He never answered your stupid question, just showed you why you can only call him an horse boy as he now had your baby pink and yellow panties pushed to the side whilst fucking you into your kitchen island. His long, thick fingers pressed into your big thighs; holding them up and apart, “ Such a pretty pussy you got, such a shame you kept this to yourself all the times I came to this house since y’all - augh!- moved in.” You were a whimpering mess because of how big and deep— kissing your cervix a few times causing you to wince in pain and pleasure. He had you speechless and you hated it because you were always ready to reply to anyone if your mouth wasn’t occupied.

You and onyankopon watched out for your dad, who was far away from your house— at the garden your grandfather started. Your mom was at her new job she got, so it was just you in the house. Onyankopon yanked your ponytail back as he paused his movements, “ Don’t space out on me, now. Can’t and won’t have that. Need all ya’ attention, baby doll. Look me in the eyes as I take this fat pussy of yours, ya hear me?” You nodded, feeling your ponytail loosen from his grip. You wanted to throw your head back, but he told you to keep your eyes on his, even through your blurry vision. “ Please—” you choked out due to the increase of his pace as he looked down at your greedy kissy taking in his cock like it was eating his cock up.

His deep voice grunted in echo all over the kitchen, “ Please what? Baby doll. Gotta say it, not gonna understand you if you aren’t speaking right.” Onyankopon slowly dragged his dick in and out of your pussy— you felt like you were gonna break into sobs. “Full. Sentences. Ahhh shit! Pretty girl” he snapped his hips into yours punctuating every word he said— you never got dick with this much teasing.

You looked down to follow the movements of his cock moving in and out of your tight gummy walls with a vicious lip bite, whimpers following. You reached down to play with your clit in clockwise format, lifting your head to make eye contact with him, “ Please fuck me hard, Daddy. Fuck me like I’m yours. I can’t— please~” onyankopon smiled as he lifted his cowboy hat off the counter placing it on your head, “ As you wish, doll.” Oyankopon fucked you as he pressed his body against yours feeling the warmth of your body against his, your skin was so soft against his but your nails against his naked back was so harsh but felt good, somehow.

You were sure that one of your press-on nails popped off from how hard you were gripping onto his back as he quickened his pace. “ Fuck I know you feel me right ere’, right here. Your cute lil tummy is so damn cute just like your fucking cheeks, wanna’ bite em’.” He touched your stomach and kissed you in your mouth— swapping spit and flipping each other's tongues as he held your body against his. He trailed his kisses all over your face as he fucked into your sweet little pussy.

“ Ahh, Ony, I think m’ cummin’ mmm cummin’.” You kept saying his name in whimpers and that drove him to fuck you even hard. He didn’t stop even if you came around his dick creating a white ring around his dick. “ Oh God.”, you yelled as you climaxed against him and he came inside of you. He bit your cheek with a deep and long groan when he came into your warm pussy making her even more warm with his hot cum flowing inside. Fuck, he didn’t wear a condom! He didn’t care but you did. Onyankopon chuckled to himself inside his head because he was the first person who got to cum inside of you. Instead of his neighbors, it was him. He feels honored.

✧˖° Mikasa, Annie, Sasha, Ymir, and Historia + your room

Your dad wanted to introduce you to picking strawberries and washing them off from the expanding strawberry field behind your house next to the garden. He just didn’t have time to teach you because teaching you means that he’ll have to take all day teaching you how to even clean off strawberries, plus he knew you hated getting dirt or anything underneath your nails. So when Erwin Smith, the man he always spoke with before he even moved here, suggested the girls teach you all about strawberries since it’s three of their jobs to do on his farm.

When they did teach you, Ymir wasn’t letting up on commenting how stupid you are when you asked if we’re going to eat them off the plants or give them to the animals, historia told her to back off you and giggled when your confused pout displayed on your face. Mikasa’s was closed off but very fond of how you looked in that short little skirt you wore. She thought you knew what you were doing wearing something like this to pick dirty strawberries off the plant stems.

Sasha was the fun one and the most welcoming to you teaching you after Historia because this was her job, she even encouraged you to take a bite out of a dirty strawberry as a joke and you were happily about to do so because you always ate the strawberries in the container, only cleaning it off with water. That’s until Annie grabbed your wrist. Now, Annie was a scary one, but you knew underneath that scary aura she possessed— was a woman who needed comfort. And you were happy to give it to her, a sleepover is the best comfort for any girl.

You never experienced a sleepover like the one you were indulging in right now, maybe with Hitch but that was planned. Getting mocked while your ass collides with Historia’s small heart-shaped ass on the 10 inch long double sided tan dildo Ymir brought in her night bag was something that was not planned. You wondered how she even got her hands on this. “ oh, look at the fucking size difference, my my my you two are the most perfect sluts to try this thing on.” Ymir stood in front of a panting, red faced Historia as she taunted her with a small smirk on her face. Annie stood in front of you with sharp blue eyes looking down at your pretty face, “ You look so pretty like this, it’s unbelievable how fast you succumb to the few words that one over there and I.” She pointed at Mikasa, who was rubbing her clit with her pretty fingers. “ Annie continued, “Such a shameful slut letting us talk you into this just by pointing out how your fat pussy showed through them lace Polka dot panties of yours.”

Annie ended her statement by holding the now ripped panties in her hands, twirling them prior to bending down and engulfing your shivering lips onto her mouth. The kiss was so tasty and sloppy, fuck, you wanted more. Why didn’t she give you more? You stopped moving to deepen the kiss between you and Annie just for Historia to bounce herself against you— your moans falling perfectly into Annie’s mouth as you swapped tongues. You heard little squeals from beside you and behind you. Afterwards you felt a body slide under you and Historia— breaking the kiss to stare down at who’s underneath you, you instantly smiled because Ymir’s cunt was on full display for you as she flicked her tongue on Historia’s count with no mercy.

Moaning at the feeling of a finger entering inside you soon matching pace with the dildo moving back and forth into you and Historia. Sasha giggled in your ear as her white bra appeared on the side of you, “ So wet, can’t wait to taste you on my lips when you sit that pretty ass on my face, I’m craving something to drink right now… something sweet like juice and candy mixed together. You’re the right person for that right, { reader}?” You couldn’t focus because of the overstimulation of your pussy and the stares you got from Annie and Mikasa, who now stands in front of you beside Annie. They watched your eyes peer up at them before Mikasa landed a perfect slap on your face at the same time as Annie landing two in both of your hanging tits.

Mikasa grabbed your jaw and bent down to hold eye contact with you, “ Answer her! Don’t leave any of us waiting for an answer again.” Her voice was so smooth and made your entire body shake or was it the fluffy carpet you all were standing or kneeling on, “ Yesss— yes please taste me after this. I need all of you, Ohh~” your wetness was colliding with Historia’s and she couldn’t take it. Her moans were so pretty to everyone but yours was sexy.

Annie slipped on one of your 8 inch strap-on’s, rubbing it on your mouth, “ Open up for me. Want to see how much of me you could take. Wan’ stuff you full of my cock. Naughtily sluts like you deserve this face fuck I’m going to give you.” Mikasa let out a little chuckle at her words before grabbing Sasha’s hand to lay with her on your bed. You heard the sound of two people aggressively kissing and stared at the two of them making out: Mikasa with Sasha between her legs. Not long after, Mikasa trailed kisses down Sasha’s jawline as she locked eyes with you, “ Fuck her good, Annie or I’ll do it myself. Don’t let her waste a drop of spit or gag, she’s taken bigger cocks than that, so she should know how to do it. I’m sure of it.”

Historia moaned out yours and Ymir’s name, luckily Ymir covered her mouth, “ Ahh, m’cummin’— cummin’ so my-Ahh.” Her moans were muffled by her hand and that made you want to bounce your ass faster to overstimulate her. You wanted to chase you own orgasm and Annie saw that, so she grabbed your head and fucked into it like it was a pocket pussy men use. The electricity she felt from getting head from you in your didldo was on another level. “ Don’t talk to me like I don’t know what I’m doing Mikasa.” She stared Mikasa down in advance to peering down at you, taking all of her cock between your glossy two-tone lips. “Holy fuck, she sounds so fucking pretty, taking this cock like the whore she is. Such a shame, you’re a whore for everyone who shows little interest in you, how pitiful.” Her words had some truth to it, therefore you wanted to shut her up by reaching past the straps of the strap-on to her pussy— sticking two fingers inside of her making her let out a shuddering moan.

You were all feeling pleasure because you didn’t even notice that Ymir had a thick pink string from an egg vibrator hanging out her pussy but the others did. Every last one of you were on cloud nine, especially Sasha and Mikasa now scissoring on your bed as you played with Annie pussy. Her face fucking was harsh but it made you squirt against Ymir’s stomach that spurred Ymir to cum from the pressure of water on her lower belly. Nothing but sultry and slutty moans were heard in your room. You were surprised that your parents didn’t come knocking from the little squeals and screams you all produced.

✧˖° Erwin Smith, Nile Dok, and Mike( Miche) Zacharias + Miche’s bar

After a week from the previous sexual encounters, you decided to take a ride to the famous bar that was about 20 minutes away from here. You needed to feel the wind blowing in between your boobs and upon your legs. Feel the wind on your face as you chew on 3 pieces of bubblegum. It was almost getting dark when you arrived at the bar, you thought it would've been packed with people.

Only three men were in there and you were about to walk back out when Miche grabbed your hand, stopping you from going. His voice did wonders to your pussy. Being a fucking nympho is a fucking curse because you folded as soon as you heard his deep voice. He smirked at you as he breathed in deeply, nodding his head like it was a signal to the other two older men sitting down.

Once he got you to sit down and have a drink with them. They’ll introduce themselves as the leaders of the town, you honestly didn’t care for what they had to say after that because the word authority and older was dancing inside of your head as you stared at them with big pretty eyes circling in on each one of them. You were sizing them up. Sizing them up to fuck them.

Afterwards, Erwin would probably be the one who trailed you home to make sure you got home, explaining how he was just “ looking out for a civilian and his fellow friend daughter”

You are so glad you decided to stay and size them up because you were bouncing on Miche’s big dick in the booth next to the dirty window. When you first saw his dick, you gasped as you stared at it. It was so pretty, curved to the right with two thick veins running down his cock and a pink, thick tip. He also had a cigarette and cologne musk to him, your favorite on old men like him. Your arms hugged his back as he lifted you up and down his dick using his big hands whilst talking with Erwin and Nile. He multitasked and he was great at it because he still hit the right places deep inside of your wet, starving pussy, “ So this is the girl, everyone’s been speaking about? Gotta say she’s exactly my, Mmgh!, type.” They were speaking about you like you weren’t even there getting your pussy destroyed by Miche and that turned you on even more.

Erwin chuckled as he dabbed his cigarette on the ashtray just to bring it to his dried glossy lips, inhaling and exhaling it, “ ‘Isn’t she just so pretty?’ That was Armin’s words as he showed the video of a girl sucking Jean’s cock to me when I asked what they all were discussing. Who would’ve known that she would be the same girl in the video. Luck is on our side Mike and Nile because she is indeed a beauty.” The reason he had dried up lip gloss on his lips was because of your ‘Cherry Bomb’ lip gloss you wore when you made out with him and his friends moments before Miche placed you into his lap to fuck you.

Your moans and screams were muffled into Miche’s neck due to the increased movements of his hips snapping up as his nails broke more of the ass part on your white bow stockings, ultimately revealing your pretty panties that had a small bow on the bak. Your panties were pulled to the side as his cock thrust into you. Nile tried so desperately not to look since his wife was back home with his kids. His wife cheated on him yet he still stayed. Yeah that wife. He had to stay loyal but he couldn’t when your big ass recoiled when miche hit deep inside of you. “ Fuck, she’s something, alright.” Nile didn’t wanna admit it, but he wanted to watch you break underneath him.

And he did when he fucked you agaisnt the table in front of them. His dick was a monster right next to Miche’s— tan with a dark pink tip, hairy because you could feel some of the hairs against your ass as he pushed into your pussy, and long with a little girth to him. You couldn’t take him after getting your pussy beat by Miche. Now, your neck was held in his strong hands while he pushed into your soaking pussy. Your nails gripping the table in front of you, “ Kahhh, I can’t.. I can’t take it, please slow down.” You didn’t want him to slow down at all because this was the third best fuck you’ve had. Nile let out a deep, long groan, fucking you even faster, “ Look at her tremble under me, Erwin. Can you say she’ll do the same for you? I don’t thin— fuck!~ stop squeezing me so damn hard, baby girl.”

Erwin lifted the corner of his lips as he watched your tits flop inside your bra, he couldn’t wait to have you, “ Don’t speak too soon, Nile. Marie was trembling underneath m-” his tone was doing something to your soul and you were about to collapse under Nile’s right arm that was around your tummy. Nile didn’t like what he said and took it out on your poor bruised pussy and you loved it especially when your head was pinned onto the table and Erwin was in your line of sight— brushing the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. Nile snarled as he spoke to Erwin, “ Fuck you, Erwin. Fuck, she’s gonna make me, uhhhh~.” He was so vocal as he came inside of you, his cum mixing with Miche’s cum. Miche was so tired that he didn’t even bother to focus on their bickering moment, his eyes were glued to your body. He was fascinated by you. Everyone was. The moment you stepped inside his bar was the moment he knew you were gonna be screaming and cumming on his cock after the little talk you had.

When it was Erwin’s turn in between your legs, he fucked you with your face turned to Miche and Nile who was now panting like a dog outside without any water on a hot summer day. You were cockwarming him and spilling your cum and the other two men cum all over his cock, “ Don’t move now, Darling. Older men are talking, down here we show respect to our elders.” His eyes were on yours as he held two fingers under your chin tilting it up for you to hold eye contact with him, he soon took his focus off you to return it to the men across and on the side of you. You felt humiliation all over and that only turned you on even more, especially when he took a sip of his drink with a cooling “ aah” following, “ They taught that to us in the city, so why wouldn’t they teach that to her generation?”

They answered him and participated in your degradation and when you would try to say something or move, Erwin would perform powerful thrusts, immediately you’ll moan or cry out of pain and pleasure because after all he was the biggest one out of all of them— he was uncut with a wide girth to his already long dick, his smell was alluring to you because he smelled so natural with a twinge of Booze and cigarettes. You heard two names before your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks, yet you couldn’t make out the names clearly. It’s not like you know them or will be able to meet them. Right?

✧˖° Levi Ackerman and Hange Zoe + barn house

The moment you met Hange was when she was milking the cows for your dad as a deal with your mom. You didn’t know how they met, but you would assume your mom and dad knew every last person here because they were already planning to move down here before they told you, which upset you to the max. Truth be told, you should’ve figured it out earlier but your mind was filled with sex, fun, and zero responsibilities.

So when you finally decide to go out three days later after your father fussed at you for being out so late, you went to your father’s barn yard that sat on the side of a little river with different fishes inside them. You sat on the hay petting the baby goat in your arms. Hange came in with a bucket of milk, stopping when they saw you with your cute baby yellow and pink dress on, they raised their eyebrow at your yellow bunny ears displayed on your head. They never saw anyone dress or look around like you, not too many chubby people that can dress in this town. Theyinstantly got excited, practically running over there to greet you.

They asked you questions about your choice of style in a town like this and while you answered they couldn’t help but to pay attention to the way your hello kitty necklace and star shaped diamond necklace fell between your high sat boobs. Levi noticed who you were right when he entered the barn disturbing your one sided conversation with the person named Hange. His voice was rough and he was straight forward especially when he asked “ Why dress like a common whore in a barn? Who allowed this?” You didn’t and couldn’t take offense because he was so close to you and eye level to your boobs. You found that funny but wouldn’t say.

Levi was not supposed to have this much interest in you but he did, specifically when he asked a question about why there was a pink bow on top of the alpaca’s ears and insulted you after when you said it looked “cutesy”. He wanted to pluck his ear off from how excited and stupid you sound and looked, but he didn’t. It’s clear you just did what you wanted. So, He decided that you’ll be “fixed” with a good lesson. He couldn’t care less if Hange decides to sit through this lesson. You need discipline and he was the right person to do it.

Your moans were muffled by Hange’s pussy covering your mouth as they sat on your face. Your moans from Levi rubbing his fat tip up and down the opening of your hungry, fat pussy, “ That’s right, shut her mouth all the way up, got tired of hearing her talk about a bunch of nonsense.” He purposely bumped his tip into your clit trying hard not to moan at the feeling of your wetness on his dick. Hange looked back with a laugh as they saw Levi bit his lip as he slid inside of your pussy, “ Looks like you’re enjoying yourself, Levi. Maybe you liked hearing her voice more than you thought you did, huh? Levi?”

Levi was about to say a smart remark when you suddenly latched onto his dick with a vicious grip causing him to let out a low whimper, red sprouted onto his face in shame and embarrassment. Luckily, Hange was too busy enjoying herself with your tongue inside of her, “ Ahh, yes { reader}! You’re doing so good for mommy.” Levi cursed at how tight you clamped on him from her little nickname— slapping your clit as a response, “ Your pussy feels so good, so don’t ruin the moment by breaking my dick with all that useless clenching.” Truth: Levi actually loved the way your pussy took him in. The grip was insane to him since he knew you took Erwin, Miche, and Nile before. They were bigger than him in length, not girth though. He only knows because of the orgies they hosted. They never fucked without condoms so why were you special? Hmm.

Levi bent down to bite your nipple as Hange gripped your coils rocking back and forth with a loud moan. They were both enjoying you and you were enjoying yourself a little too much. Almost breaking at how deep he was fucking you. Hange yanked your head back— your face was in their line of sight and you looked so pretty with their juices covering your cheeks and mouth. They let out a happy laugh, “ Levi you should see how slutty her face looks right now.” They paused and hovered over your chest a bit to let you breathe. “ Don’t need to see that when I have the prettiest thing on her body in front of me, her pussy is swallowing me up Hange so don’t talk because you’re gonna ruin my hard on.”

Hange gasped and was about to reply back to him with a sarcastic remark, stopping when they heard a loud moan and slaps increasing rapidly. “ Ha-Ann~, please keep fucking me like this mister Levi, make me yours. Ouhhh.” Levi let a small smirk display in his red and sweat drenched face in victory, “ Got you right where I want now, pretty girl…” he gripped your stretch mark stomach underneath his little, thick fingers, “ Now in order to keep hitting that spot you want, you have to vow you’re gonna be a good girl after this and stop decorating your father’s barn and barn animals with that pink girly shit.”

Your body was shaking and your words were slipping out of your mouth in stutters when you tried to respond, but his long strokes inside of your velvet walls was enough to make you lose basis of the statement he just said to you. Hange tapped your face with three taps, “ Hey, Hey, my little butterfly, don’t tap out now, are you gonna obey what Levi said.” The table bench underneath you all felt like it was about to collapse from the shaking you and Levi were creating, so you quickly answered levi in a loud, “ Yes, just— ahhnn fuck me harder, please sir.. pl-pleasee mommy!!” Levi threw his head back to get his hair out of eyes and locked eyes with Hange, whose neck was turned to him, nodding his head. I’m his mind, he wondered when Furlan and Isabel is coming to town because he knew they would fuck and love on you just as much as he and Hange are doing.

Once Hange moved their pussy back to your mouth, you were in heaven because they tasted so good. Your slurping was music to both of their ears, so Levi rewarded you by placing his head in between your pretty boobs, fucking you faster in the mating press position. His balls were slapping the opening of your other hole and his arms were tightly around your abdomen. He loved the feeling of your stomach and tit moving up and down against his body. You were remarkable. The table shook underneath you three and you were so glad that this was drilled into the ground outside in the back of the barn because if it wasn’t this would’ve been fell. Levi dick was hitting the right spot inside of you, which made your loud moans get Hange off. The strength of your tongue circling around their clit prior to moving inside of their wet pussy was amazing.

All while this was happening, you all didn’t notice a tall shadow in the woods behind the barn watching you all with a small smirk on his face. You were a dumb silly girl who was easy to manipulate and he was going to have much fun with you later on. His nephew may have had you first, but he’ll fuck you better because he need you to know that there is bigger and better out here for you. Plus, he hated your grandfather and now your father, so he was glad he found out that you were his daughter. Only time will tell.

✧˖° Kenny Ackerman + at the lake beach party in the woods

The younger crew that you previously met on the first night invited you out for a party at the private lake beach of Napeville. You have never been to one of these types of swimming parties, mainly because you wouldn’t dare touch the water because of how dirty it is and because you have never been in the woods like this. You blamed your parents for this because now you have to go through the woods just to get to a party Reiner was co-throwing with Connie.

At first, your parents didn’t want you to go since you were on duty-calls for sneaking off to fuck Levi and Hange, they obviously didn’t know that was the reason. Reiner convinced them and said he was going to “ look out for you and help you finish your duties tomorrow. You didn’t know why your parents suddenly trusted Reiner, but they let you go before telling you to watch out for a man named “ Kenny the ripper”. You paid no mind as you walked to your room.

One thing you looked forward to was looking cute at the party. You had the perfect skirts and bikini to wear. Your bikini was a size smaller than your actual size and you and everyone loved it. You would think you would be shy with a body like yours, but you weren’t because you and the others thought you were the sexiest person at the party especially with your little back rolls and tummy out.

Your swimsuit did you justice and Kenny thought the same when he lurked around watching you holding the red cup in your hands, never once stepping near the water. He needed to get close and he didn’t have a way right now, so imagine his surprise when you made it easier for him to fuck you while walking through the woods to get to your car for an extra towel for Mikasa.

On the way back to Mikasa, you ran into the chest of Kenny Ackerman, a man your parents told you to stay away from just recently too. You couldn’t be stupid enough to insult the older man with a smart remark of how old he is and how you heard that old people have bad eyesight right? You couldn’t be stupid enough to smile when he gave you a backwards compliment on how the pretty gingham wedges you were walking in the woods with is a stupid and cute choice for you, right? You also couldn’t be stupid enough to let him hold you by the neck against a thick tree, only to react with a bite of your plump lip, right? Well you were indeed stupid enough to do all of those things in the act of also getting off to how strong the older man was, wanting a piece of him in the end.

Reasons why you were tied at the hands with your bikini bra and Kenny bottoming inside of you against a tree. Your bouncing tits littered with dark stretch marks hurt as they bounced back and forth against the tree and your moans were muffled by your bikini bottoms, so you were completely naked with only his cowboy hat on your head. Kenny let out a low maniacal laugh at the desperation your eyes plead as they looked back at you, “ My my my, sweet pea, such a dumb little thing aren’t cha’? Didn’t the little shit teach you not to do anymore dumb shit anymore or was it girly shit? Hell if I know, I just know I’m gonna fuck you like the fuckdoll you are.” He tried not to let out a loud moan as he watched your ass bounce back on his big cock, he was bigger than Levi and Erwin put together, you hated it because it didn’t necessarily fit in all the way— your pussy was only taking him just above his pelvis.

“ Gonna tell your old man that his daughter is a town’s whore and shouldn’t be allowed to be here. Maybe then that poor excuse of a father will grant me half of his farm land once I send the pictures to his phone, eh?… Shit, keep squeezing me like that, sweet pea, and I’m gonna breed this fat little cunt— fill it to the brim and send you home with the next Ackerman generation inside of you.”, Kenny says with a powerful thrust inside of your pussy. The slapping sounds and your muffled pleas were echoed throughout the little area in the woods. Your pussy was something else to him. She warmed his dick up mighty good and he couldn’t help but to admire you. You were definitely a beauty so maybe he shall stick to his original plan.

“Mmgh- mmmm- pldhpse.”, you felt like your eyes were stuck in the back of your head from how hard he was pounding you from behind and against a tree at that. Trees were yucky and splintery to you, in the back of your mind you hoped that the wood wouldn't magically appear in your stomach and tits. He bit your ear when he dropped his pants to the ground, instantly groping one of your tits with his right hand and playing with your pussy with his left hand. “ Come on, my pretty pea, set up a little get together with myself and the old fuck of a father, a great fuck greater than the one you have right now is guaranteed as the prize.”

Kenny slowed down his pace before stopping and pulling out of you with his cock touching the back of your thighs. He took the bikini piece balled up in your mouth out to let you breathe and talk properly. You didn’t get what he was asking and thought he was an old friend that your family knew, “ yes— please, please, please, I’ll get you that meeting, fuck me Mr., I need— I need your dick inside me. No mercy on my pretty little cunt.” Kenny stared at you wide eyed when you turned around to lock eyes with him. Holy Shit! You were such a needy little whore. He was going to have fun with you. He met a couple of women that were needy for his cock, but not like this.

The next thing you know, your feet was dangling in the air—on the side of his naked waist during the time of his arms underneath your thighs, holding you up as he fucked into you like a mad dog in heat. You were surprised that he could pick you without cracking any bones or hurting his back or arms. He did hunt animals and people, but you didn’t need to worry your pretty head about that. But his cock felt like it was punching your stomach in and out, “ ha-nnn~ s’good, it’s sooo good. Gonna cum all over your meaty cock. Fuck!” Your moans were filling his ears and he loved every word that came out of your mouth, so he sped up his pace, your heels long gone and his pants dropped to his ankles so now you both were fucking like the vampires in the woods on true blood. So deep into each other that you couldn’t think or hear, otherwise you would’ve heard your name being called by Mikasa and Eren.

“ Shh, what’s that I hear, little pea? I hear your friends getting closer, but you don’t seem to care, do you? You stupid little girl, you don’t care that your friends will see you fucking the one man they were told to watch out for? Ah, I got it, your- fucking hell you’re clamping down on me like you never want me to pull out. Such a bad girl you are, huh? Yeah, s’fucking naughty!”, Kenny’s words were getting to you more than the close shouts from Mikasa and Eren. You couldn’t even figure out which direction they were coming from because now Kenny was dipping and moving his hips in a rhythm you couldn’t even decipher in music class if you cared for it. Fuck, he was what you needed. Kenny's big hands gripped your ass in his hands, mounding them as he pounded inside of your soaking pussy that was ready to squirt all over his cock. He loved the way you held onto him tightly in fear of him dropping you. You were a piece of work that was sure. Considering how hard and fast he’s going, this would be your first time squirting and it’s sad that it was by the one person you were told to stay away from. When he introduced himself to you after making you squirt and cream onto his cock, all at the same time, You knew you practically signed over your father’s life and land of crops for big mean Kenny Ackerman. You were so fucked, yet you didn’t even noticed or care because you were too fucked out to know that he was the man to fear.

✧˖° Reiner, Porco, and Pieck + Reiner’s room in his ranch

Reiner couldn’t sleep unless he gets a chance with you, but why hadn’t you even looked his way. It's been weeks since his lake-beach party and he couldn’t get you out his head, hell he couldn’t even get the strawberry or other candy/fruit scent out of his mind as well. He knew of the others fucking you and still wanted you, so when you suddenly stood laughing next to Pieck with a big, blue lollipop in your mouth, he couldn’t help himself to fantasize that that blue sucker was his cock instead. He couldn’t help but to look over at Pieck and now Porco eyeing you sucking on the sucker with pure fondness in their postures and eyes. He had a plan.

Luckily for him, Pieck was one step ahead of him when she asked you to go to lunch with them. As she wrapped her arms around your shoulders, she brought her fingers to your shirt that said the words “ Dumb Bimbo in Charge” with rhinestone letters. Reiner and Porco knew what she was doing by making you explain what your shirt meant just for them to not pay attention to shit you were saying. Hell, you didn’t even know what it means because you were too dumb to get it, you just thought it was cute. Too focus on how excitedly your boobs bounced as you tried to explain what your shirt meant to you.

Only when you asked the question “ Do you wanna know what Blue lemonade tastes like?” They paid attention and Porco was surprised to see your eyes on him and Reiner, especially Reiner. Gulping and nodding to your question cause you to suddenly dip your blue sucker in your lemonade— putting it back in your mouth sucking harshly. Eventually pulling it out of your mouth whilst bringing Reiner’s face close to yours kissing him. Pock and Pieck were jealous and from that moment on you all decided to visit Reiner parents ranch they left to him.

Your body felt pleasure from all over as you lay under Pieck in a 69 position, taking Porco’s cock inside of her hot pussy during the time of you taking Reiner’s cock inside of your pussy. His moans were so whiny as he moved in and out of your drenched pussy with a thumb inside of your puckering hole, “ She’s so- ahhunn- she’s so eager to take me in, Porco.” You indeed were eager to take him in as the wet sounds of yours and Pieck’s pussy rippled in the room you all were in. Porco grunted as Pieck squeezed against his cock, “ Shit Pieck, Reiner shut the hell up, m’tryna get off here and all I hear is your whiny- annoying ass voice.” Reiner didn’t respond to Porco’s comment due to feeling your pussy convulse around his dick.

You, on the other hand, was in love with the way Reiner cock took up so much space inside of your pussy, filling you just right. Tears were brought to your eyes as you started feeling Reiner’s balls slapping against your hole from how deep he was inside of you, “ Mm’guh, s’deep, I can’t breathe, mmmm.” Reiner smirked as Porco eyes widened at how lewd you were talking about Reiner’s dick beating your pussy in. He couldn’t let Reiner win this, so he stuck two fingers in your mouth since your face was facing him as he dug deep into a moaning Pieck, “ Suck, bitch. After you’re done, suck my girl’s clit as I fuck her. That’s what you’re good for right, Ymir told us all about how skilled your pussy eating is.” You coughed and drooled on his thick fingers as they hit the pack of your throat.

Reiner hissed shapely at your clenching on his cock, landing a harsh smack on your thighs with his right hand, “ Seems your pussy took a liking to my cock, doll face. Wonder if she could take the shape of my cock even better than she is right now? Shit~ yeah, yeah, just like that. So fucking tight. Oh~” Pieck was so out of touch with this world that she jumped when she felt a hand slap her clit from below, she then proceeds to stroke a finger over your slit— taking in how sticky her hands are becoming. her moans only grew louder when she felt a calming suck on her clit from you, “ Pieck’s dripping— mmmgh! dripping so much Porco. She’s doing so good for us.”

Porco eyes rolled to the back of his head as you licked from Piecks pussy to the part of his cock that wasn’t inside of Pieck. Reiner didn’t take kindly to you lifting yourself up to do that. In response, he slammed inside of you, gripping your love handles harshly as he pounded inside of your pussy, “ Stop trying to run, doll face, can’t have you slipping from me to please that fucker.” It was like a different man came out as he pounded into your now bruised pussy. You couldn’t keep up with the licking of Pieck’s cunt because of the power thrust Reiner was doing to your body. “ yes, yes, yeshhh!” Your moans were shut off by Porco snatching your hair up to Pieck’s saturated pussy taking in his cock with a grip you could visibly see.

Reiner and Porco’s chest were glistening with cold sweat as they fucked you and Pieck with meaning. You were on the verge of cumming and wanted to try to hold it, but Pieck latched her luscious lips on your clit, sucking and curling her tongue around you eagerly. Your screams were muffled as it vibrated Pieck’s pussy causing her to squirt on your face and Porco’s cock. Porco couldn’t believe he was living his dream right now, “ Fuck~ I guess you are worthy little something huh, so fucking sexy.” He rubbed your head during the time of you swirling your tongue on Pieck’s slightly tan pussy. Soon after, Porco gripped Pieck’s hips as he slowly overstimulated her pussy like Reiner was doing your creaming pussy, “ doing so good for me, Pieck. A fucking good girl, now make her squirt f’me, P’.”

Pieck begins to licking more rapidly with her moans vibrating your clit. Reiners pounding only added to your pleasure and soon you were soaking and creaming around his cock and on Pieck’s face. Her eyes closed as you squirted on it, taking in the taste of your juices as well. Reiner’s hand gripped harshly on the headboard of the bed you all were on and with a loud yell of your name he came inside of you with no hesitation. You were so glad that you went to the clinic for a check up and got on birth control, otherwise you would’ve been done for. Kids were not on your list but it was on Reiner’s list as he came inside of you seeing nothing except for hazy imaginary snowflakes as he looked at the ceiling. His chest on Pieck’s head as he breathed into her hair, only jumping up from how shook your body was and Porco’s scream as he came into Pieck’s pussy.

Pieck’s moans were so fucking cute to you. You would love to do this again with the three of them, only next time you wanted Porco for yourself. Reiner was perfect, yet you still wanted more. More was in Porco especially with the way he locked eyes with you when you looked up at him through low eyes. His chest raised up and down with the eyes of a person who wanted whatever was in front of them like a kid seeing their favorite plushy and wanting it. Reiner bent down to kissed your thigh whispering a raspy “ thank you” and you squeezed around his limp cock still inside of you. Nothing but a grunt was heard when you did that. He hoped what he heard from your dad wasn’t true. He didn’t want you to leave to go stay with a relative in the city, just to go to college. It’s a college here, a small one, but he hopes it’ll do. It’s also 30 miles away so why couldn’t you stay? Stay.

✧˖° Keith Shadis and Eren Kruger + Theo Magath + at a dinner party inside of your parents house

Your father and mother told you that they were having a dinner party with the residents of this town, mostly the higher ups and they told you to dress appropriately. They were wary of your definition of appropriate so they had to specify it two times for you to get it. And when you asked if you have to attend, the look on your mothers face told you your answer. You are their daughter and you’re gonna have to take over after your parents die. Generational farming was not for you. You’re definitely gonna be the one to end that curse.

The list of people that showed up was huge, luckily your house was huge enough for them. Everyone you had sex with was here probably, not that you care. They just better keep it quiet. The noise downstairs was filled with nothing but plates and untensils clattering with loud laughs and talks. You heard a portion of the older man you fucked until the topic of Kenny Ackerman came up.

You wanted to eavesdrop so bad, but thought otherwise because you wanted to finger yourself to the last encounter with the said man. With your head against your fluffy pink silk pillow and hands locked in the handcuffs you brought, you fingered yourself to the memories inside of your head of every person you fucked. You couldn’t help yourself and couldn’t stop fingering yourself as the noise drowned out. You didn’t even stop fingering yourself when Eren Kruger walked into your room, mislaying your room for the bathroom.

Kruger eyes were wide when he walked in on you knuckle deep inside of your pussy moaning multiple men names, some of them was friends of his like Erwin, Levi, Ackerman, Zeke, Hange, etc. he made the conclusion that you were the little fox his colleagues were spending weeks talking about like they were in love with you. God. You looked so pretty with your mouth formed in a little O as you struggled to get off due to your pink handcuffs on your wrist. He closed the door not so quietly causing you to gasp out at the sudden noise. Your eyes widened when you saw who it was. The man who came here three weeks ago to talk with your dad; he was with two other men though.

His grey eyes peeled into you before he spoke to you in a deep gruff voice, “ So you’re the infamous, { reader}. Such a beauty you are…” he stood there, eyeing you slowly closing your legs with your fingers now placed on your pretty stomach, over the fabric of your pretty white dress. Your thighs were what he wanted to be suffocated in and that’s exactly why he came closer to you. You tried to move back to sit up, but he shook his head and immediately you stopped moving like you were in a trance, “ Can I help you out, princess? Want to make you feel good and much better. Allow me to make you feel good, princess.”

You stared at him getting on his knees in his black trousers. You were eyeing the door, slithering your eyes back to him with a meek nod of your head. You were never shy but he had the aura to make you do so. Kruger didn’t waste any time pulling off your panties underneath your dress you were supposed to make your way down the stairs with, “ so pretty.” His deep voice caused you to clench at air and he chuckled with his head still under your dress. He licked a strip of your fat pussy, your body shuddering in response followed by a little whine, “ fuck, please continue.” Kruger obeyed you and took long and slow licks up and down your pussy. Older men and women have proven to be better at everything because you’ve never gripped the sheets just from three licks of your pussy.

Kruger enjoyed the taste of your pussy, wanting to suck that pretty, puffy clit. He sucked your clit with meaning causing you to raise up a little to bunch your dress up over your plump tummy revealing his pretty eyes already on you. His facial structure made him highly attractive outstandingly when he moved his tongue in a slow circle around your clit. You two were lost in each other’s eyes that when the door opened and closed you couldn’t hear it. Your head tilted back at how good he was eating your pussy, “ Just like that, mmm, Mr. Kruger I want more.” Girls in their 20s wasn’t his type because they’re so whiny and much younger than him, yet he couldn’t help groaning into your pussy at your whines.

A hand suddenly grabbed your chin, squeezing your cheeks together. Your eyes widened in high alert when you saw the sunken eyes of a man you were afraid of ever since he came here giving you a mean stare: Keith shadis was a man you genuinely feared and respected enough to want. Kruger hummed against your Pussy prior to speaking once he detached from you with a string of saliva and juice following, “ See you made it, shadis. Didn’t expect you to come in and join, consider me impressed.” Keith's eyes hardened at Kruger, turning to you before he captured your lips with a bruising, hard kiss. Your hips bucked into the air from the hot, steaming kiss you shared with the tall 6’6 man, they were both so tall and big. Keith broke from the kiss with a little peck on your chin and lips, “ Couldn’t let you have all the fun, haven’t had this much fun since 95’. Wouldn’t miss it, although her mouth looks a little bored, a little conniving whore like her needs a cock in her mouth to satisfy her. Who knows? She might even have an oral fixation and if she doesn’t, I’ll create it for her to have.”

Keith pushed you back on the bed, taking his shoes off to climb onto the bed with his knees on the side of your head— messing up your hair a little bit. He unbuckled his pants and his dick popped out slapping you on the forehead, he was uncircumcised yet still had a huge cock you wanted down your throat. You grabbed his cock at the same time Kruger pushed his tongue inside of your pussy, “ Augh-mmmph.” As soon as you opened your mouth, Keith shoved his cock down your throat, fucking your throat fast with a vicious grip on your hairstyle you got. It hurts so good. Theo opened the door and slide inside to watch with a cigar hanging out his mouth. His eyes was focused on how well you took Keith’s dick inside of your mouth. He looked down at his trousers and shifted. Keith and Kruger knew he was there but you didn’t. How could you when Keith’s groans and Kruger’s slurping was heard along with your muffled moans from the dick sucking you were happily doing.

Keith was in heaven once your tongue slid I’ve this veins and Kruger was in heaven when your pussy drowned his face in your juices. Theo Magath was just a bystander and man did he want to join— he’ll wait out his turn. While you were about to get fucked out by three older men, your family was downstairs with the men and women you already gave yourself to. Such a slut and your parents had no idea what you’ve been doing and what you’re doing right now. You heard them calling you downstairs, though you were too busy being used by all three men upstairs in your recent decorative room. After all, you are the Farmer’s daughter that turned into the town’s Slut. Therefore, you are now the Town’s Slut and you’re not going anywhere else any time soon.

Tagging: @shunsuist @honeybleed @simpingfor-wakasa @happygoluckyalexis @mastermindenoshimaalicia @nutheadgeenat ( if you wanted to be tagged), @angelshub @bontens-angel and anyone else who wants to be tagged in.

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motimatcha · 4 months

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the Forbidden fruit

NSFW: headcanons about your sex life. hazbin hotel Adam x fem!reader That feeling when my drafts are almost halfway through the smut with Adam that I wanted to write, but at the last minute I stopped liking that text, so I switched to something else. Everything is (not) good. I wrote this text while listening to Landon Tewers - She Thinks of Me. the meaning of the song is not at all important and has nothing to do with the lyrics, I just liked the melody.

Adam has beautiful hands. Aesthetic. When he takes off his clothes and folds his arms across his chest, rests them on a surface, or carries heavy objects, his veins appear.

His fingers are thin and well-groomed, long, like those of a pianist, which Adam never was.

Just imagine the contrast it has on you during sex. His rough, sometimes wild, character and gentle movements of his hands that slide over your entire body while he whispers all sorts of dirty things in your ear. Imagine those hands touching your hips, squeezing your skin gently but noticeably to make you feel excited and excited, and then with a knee-baring grin, he leaves you unsatisfied.

Adam can and loves to tease. His hands pass dangerously close to your sensitive places, and his words are full of subtext and hints, which are sometimes not covered at all. And because many are accustomed to the character of Adam, who speaks complete nonsense, no one pays attention to the fact that Adam literally said that he would fuck you against that wall before entering heaven.

Adam sure has a sexy morning voice. He can lie on his back, finally finding a comfortable position without his wings getting in the way, one of his arms wedged under your body and resting on your side. He brushes the hair that is falling into his face back before turning his head in your direction. A smirk graces Adam’s face as he rolls onto his side and pulls you closer to him, allowing your two hot bodies to grind against each other. Adam wakes you up with a kiss behind your ear, slowly lowers himself to your neck and whispers some nonsense to you, but you don’t wake up or pretend to be asleep, he takes it as a challenge and the hand from your hip slowly slides down, straight into yours underpants.

Adam likes the cowgirl position when he's too tired but still wants you. This gives you both an imaginary sense of control: you control the speed of the process, Adam controls the movement of your hips.

He likes to look at your hips and butt, whether in tight pants/high-waisted shorts or skirts/dresses that contour your figure. Adam basically likes to look at you in tight clothes, style doesn't matter as long as you like it. Besides that, he likes to see his dick penetrate your body slowly or quickly (well, I mean, he likes to watch your pussy swallow his dick, let's be honest). He loves watching your breasts bounce rhythmically as you move. He loves the feeling of your fingers on his chest as you lean against him, finding a comfortable position.

If you don't mind having Adam's dick in you without having sex, then please allow him. He is overwhelmed by a feeling of unity that has not visited him since the time of Lilith and Eve.

Not against quick sex (or blowjob).

Speaking of fetishes, Adam loves creampies and he doesn’t hide the fact that he’s flattered by the idea of impregnating you. And the latter is not so much a fetish as his sacred duty, because he seemed to be created for this? First man, first man and all that. However, if you can't get pregnant (or it's your mutual desire not to have children due to your lifestyle), he still loves creampies.

Adam loves to leave his marks on you: hickeys and bites, especially on your neck, arms, collarbones, chest, hips... In general, wherever he can reach with his mouth and lips. Adam likes to do this not only because he finds it sexy, but because of his insecurity. He had two wives who went to a dwarf duck! Somewhere in the subcortex of consciousness, Adam wants every living and dead soul to see that you are already busy with him and minding your own business.

Adam will probably let you do anything (within reason and as long as he feels like he's in a dominant position) if you praise him during sex or tell him you wouldn't choose anyone else over him. This will upset him.

I'm not sure exactly what word is supposed to mean what I'm about to say next (at least I've seen it called "happy way", but I can't be sure), but Adam has a faint trail of hair from his belly button to the groin. And although he takes care of himself (if you ask, he doesn’t care until it starts to get in the way), but he will never remove this particular hair.

His cock is worth forgetting about toys. So are his fingers.

Adam doesn't have a favorite place to have sex, but he prefers you to be alone. Teasing in public is a whole different story!

If you want to quickly excite Adam, then touch his wings. But this should not be a light touch to the tips of his feathers, but a targeted stroking of the growth area of the wings and between the shoulder blades.

#hazbin hotel adam x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel

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greenllamas · 1 year

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The Downtown Collection (13 items) | greenllamas

The Downtown Collection is a 13 item set inspired by autumnal metropolitan street style and aesthetics. Let your sims live out their wattpad fantasies of being the “mysterious sim on the train”

This collection includes:

2 Hairs

3 Tops

2 Bottoms

2 Pairs of shoes

4 accessories (including an accessory jacket)

notes:

All items have LODs, shadows, spec, and bumps + custom thumbnails so you should be able to find everything in the same place as the rest of my stuff in CAS.

All items are tagged as feminine

For more details on how many swatches each item has + the names visit the item index linked below.

If there are any issues with the items PLEASE let me know and I will try to get them fixed asap!

DOWNLOAD (free) | Item Index | Discord

#ts4mm #ts4mm hair #ts4mm clothes #ts4mm tops #s4mm #s4mm hair #s4mm clothes #s4mm tops #ts4cc #s4cc #greenllamas #download #the way i thought i had this post queued #mind u it was just sitting in my drafts

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itgirlpushaaa · 2 years

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Tao downtown restaurant

I’ve been going to Tao downtown nightclub in Manhattan, NY for ages but back in 2019 I started going to their restaurant and I’ve fallen in love with Pan-Asian food & drinks. The restaurants decor is truly extraordinary and makes you feel like you’re in Los Angeles or Somewhere tropical… the whole aesthetic is truly an must visit if you’re ever in nyc, although they have Tao uptown, Los Angeles,…

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 1 year

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Eisteddfod Chairs: Pick Your Winner!

It's almost June! Nearly time to reveal the 2023 Chair! So come, gather round Tumblrs, let me tell you of the furniture-based customs of my people

So Wales has been celebrating Eisteddfodau (festivals of poetry, music, and disco dancing), in some form or another, since at least the 1100s, when Lord Rhys of Dinefwr had one all formal-like and made it into a big fun party and that. The word basically means 'sitting place', and probably refers to the way people in summer would gather round the twmpath in the village to listen to bards that passed through and drink mead and shout 'hurrah!' a lot. Amazingly, this is not where the Chair Thing comes from.

Part of Welsh history is the Bardic Age, and it was custom for bards to travel the country and visit the courts of assorted gentry types (also normal people's houses and taverns and twmpaths but let's stay on topic) and play for them. If the lord paid well, great; if not, the bard would write a Super Mean Song about them and sing it everywhere, so they were pretty well treated.

But if they were particularly good, rather than making them play for the WHOLE meal, the lord would offer them a chair at the table to join in the feast as a guest, rather than a worker, and THAT is where the Chair Thing comes from.

Anyway that's preamble to say that every year in the biggest Eisteddfod of all - the Eisteddfod Genedlaethol - the highest honour awarded goes to the Prifardd - the bard who writes the winning cywydd (super complex Welsh poetry WE DON'T HAVE TIME TO EXPLAIN ALL OF THIS). And the prize for writing the winning cywydd is that you are awarded, you guessed it, the Chair.

Now these Chairs (capital C, please, we like a bit of Fantasy Novel Capitalisation and for this cultural reason I will never understand people who complain about it) are unique. They are thrones. They are carved each year by one chosen carpenter, who crafts a one-of-a-kind Chair with symbolism and that, never to be replicated. They usually have the year carved on, but otherwise, they vary wildly in aesthetic and symbolism. In a No Award year (because Eisteddfod judges don't subscribe to the Western idea that there HAS to be a first, second and third place; if no one is good enough there is no award, and I have seen choir competitions for seven year olds where there was no first or third place but there were two choirs in joint second), the Chair is sent back to the carpenter who carved it, and they get to keep it. In a year where the bard died before the ceremony, it is draped in black, and given to next of kin.

(That has only happened once. RIP Hedd Wyn, 1887-1917. Also the only reproduced Chair; the original, known as the Gadair Ddu (the Black Chair) is on display in his family home, but a 3D printed replica has been made for display by Amgueddfa Cymru)

BUT THEREFORE a big part of Eisteddfod fun is seeing what the Chair will look like this year. Traditional ones, see, we tend to think look like variants of this:

(Apologies for the substandard attempts at alt-text; I have no clue how to describe these properly)

This one is from 1896. The phrase "Y gwir yn erbyn y byd" means "The truth against the world", and was included in a lot of old ones. Modern ones tend to incorporate the druidic symbol for awen ("poetic inspriation") instead. Some of these incidentally turn up in lil' chapels and that about the country.

But actually even the old ones were mad different, look; clockwise from top left, these are y Gadair Ddu (1917), 1876, 1926 (when the carpenter was Chinese and enjoyed the cultural fusion), and 1908.

Still the same theme, though, but in the modern day the carpenters are all off the shits! They're all over the place! Fuck the rules! And I have Opinions.

Category: I See What You Did There

SYMBOLISM!!! 2011 is a pit wheel from Wrexham's mining past! 2013 is the head of a harp, from Denbighshire's cultural harp-making past! 2017 is fish, from Anglesey's maritime present! Fantastic. Love it.

Best in category: 2017. Why does Anglesey's have so many eyes on the fish? We don't know. Wylfa B protestors reportedly furious.

Category: The Modern Throne

TALL!!! That silhouette! That height!! They have the range, darling! Christ knows 2016 doesn't have anything else going for it! Shout out to the Conwy river on 2019, the different woods from the forests of Maldwyn for 2015, and the red kite symbolism for Ceredigion in 2022 (the spiritual home of the bird, where the species was first saved).

Best in category: 2019, Conwy. I like the bridge and the river lines and the water effect on the front of the seat it's just so pretty.

Category: That's Just A Chair

(I am actually friends with the Prifardd who won 2018 at the bottom there :D )

WHAT ARE RULES WE JUST WANT FUNCTIONAL CHAIRS. Man even so 2014 was fucking ugly. You could have 2018 in your house. Around your table, like. Even 2012 has a sort of IKEA vibe that's boring but palatable. 2014 is only coming in the house under sufferance.

Best in Category: 2018, easy, and not just because it's the one I'm most likely to get to sit in one day. It's pretty.

Category: NO GODS NO CHAIRS NO MASTERS

WHAT

WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED IN 2010

BRO I DO NOT THINK YOU TRIED

Best in Category: OBVIOUSLY 2021 I COULD PHYSICALLY MAKE 2010 MYSELF

#wales!#closed for cleaning on mondays #long post

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smileysuh · 11 months

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Big Bear & Bee

🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You swallow thickly, leaning back against Johnny while you gain your courage. You know he’s not the type to force anything on you, and something tells you that if you don’t make this first move, you might miss your chance. Turning in his arms, you look up into the bear hybrid's chocolate brown eyes. Then you’re kissing him, putting all the passion that’s been brewing into the meeting of your lips. You thread your fingers through his soft hair, eager to get close to him, closer than you’ve ever been before.

tw/cw. protected sex, multiple positions (girl on top/missionary), pussy eating, praise, dirty talk, bear hybrid x human, fingering, overstim, size kink, big dick!Johnny, pussy stretching, slow burn, mentions of baby/child fever, sex while she wears a dress, etc... I pet names: (hers) bee, princess, gorgeous. (his) John, Big Bear.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 15.9k

🍭 aus. hybrid, bear/uncle!Johnny, human/honey shop worker!y/n, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. huge thank you to @sehunniepot for helping me through writing this and being my beta reader- Nikki is truly one of my best friends, and if you haven't already checked out her writing, she's got John fics for days - her Olympian Johnny is one of my favorite fics ever 💕

As a bear hybrid, Johnny has been in many honey shops in his life. He’s frequented hole-in-the-wall mama and papa honey selling places. He’s visited corporate brand locations so big and full of different types of honey that they made his head spin. He’s even given a chance to side of the road, farm fresh honey sellers.

Even with all of this experience, there’s only one place that he’s truly come to love, and that’s Queen B’s Honey Company.

Nestled between an ice cream parlour and a fifties style salon on an old street on the side of town, near the farming district, Queen B’s has a certain charm that’s always scratched Johnny’s honey itch just right.

With soft cream coloured walls, and touches of old wood that line the space in shelves and fill the room with various display tables, the store is somewhere between scandi and revitalized farm aesthetic, a style that Johnny adores.

Housing a wide array of honey, in sticks, jars, canisters and tubs, the honey shop has everything a bear like John could ever need, and that’s not even including all the hand made pottery that sits on the top shelves. Plants are speckled here and there, adding a floral scent to the sweetness in the air that’s inherent to the Queen B establishment.

There’s art too, all somehow relating to honey, and everywhere you look, there’s a recurring theme of bees and bears.

It’s a tale as old as time - the bears and the bees - and one that has always immediately brought the hybrid an indescribable sense of peace.

Even with all of this, however, Johnny’s favourite part about the store has to be the kind workers that calmly bustle around, always quick to lend a hand or ask how his day is going. Specifically, you draw Johnny in like no amount of honey ever could, and he’s pleased to arrive at the store once a week to often find you working.

Johnny might be a big shot club owner and entrepreneur by night, but by day - especially in the comfort of Queen B’s - Johnny sees himself as more of a calm dude just trying to support a local business. Despite his attraction to you, he’d hate to put himself out there and make you uncomfortable - at your workplace no less - so in the months he’s been frequenting your establishment, your short interactions have only ever pertained to honey, and he can live with that.

The front bell chimes softly as Johnny enters Queen B’s, and Johnny meets your smile with a grin of his own. “Good morning!” you call out, a common greeting that still somehow makes his heart beat loudly in his chest.

“Hi,” he nods, breaking your gaze to inspect the front display, where all your store’s new products are laid out like candy in a candy shop for the honey-loving bear hybrid.

He tries to be nonchalant, but as the only person in the store, Johnny knows he’s captured your attention. There are days when he’s one of a handful, and you often take care of those who’ve come before him, only to head his way and ask if there’s anything you can help him find. Today, he has all your attention, and it takes effort for him not to watch you approach.

There’s something about the soft yellow apron that you always wear, or the yellow scrunchies and ribbons in your hair. Your white t-shirt and blue jean ensemble under your work apron is just as much a part of the beautiful colour scheme, and there’s no three colours in the world that Johnny likes together more than cream, honey, and denim blue, especially on you.

“We’ve got new honey sticks,” you tell him, as you come to join him by the front display. He loves how you know what he normally buys, that you remember him so well.

“I see that,” he nods, sneaking a glance up at you. “Are they any good?”

You nod. “Very good, at least, I think so.” You begin to tell him where the honey is sourced - from a local apiary - and the way that the honey sticks are naturally flavoured with the seasonal blackberries, raspberries and other such ingredients that grow in the surrounding area, all organic of course.

Johnny listens, although half of his mind is much more pleasantly occupied watching your lips. The way you speak has always enchanted the bear hybrid, and he’s more than happy to watch you work hard to give him all the information you can.

“Sounds good,” Johnny says when you’re done. “I might just have to get five of each.”

“I can prepare that for you if you’d like to continue looking around,” you smile. “We also restocked the blackberry honey jars from Overgrove Apiary. I know we were out last week and you got something else, so…well, I called our merchandiser over there and got a new batch just yesterday.”

You're a woman after his own heart…and maybe also his money, but Johnny can never tell if your interest in him is beyond that of a professional.

“Thanks, I really appreciate that,” Johnny tells you honestly, watching you begin to collect five of each honey stick into a simple brown paper bag for him.

“Don’t mention it,” you say softly. “Anything for a regular.”

He wonders again if that’s all he is to you, a regular, and Johnny finds himself putting his hands in the pockets of his dress pants, fiddling with the golden ring on his thumb. “It’s nice to be taken care of,” he says finally.

Your eyes meet, and you’re quick to look away, but the soft smile on your face is enough to make Johnny’s heart race again.

“Is there anything else I can help you with today? Or just the honey sticks and blackberry jar?”

“I think this is good for now,” he tells you, following when you immediately turn to head to the till.

It’s a nice silence as he watches you check everything through the system, and when you give him the total, he pulls out his soft, brown leather wallet from his back pocket. He always pays in cash, and despite the fact that he never asks for change, opting to give you a tip that goes into the tip jar, you still ask if he’d like the coins back.

It’s one of Johnny’s joys of the week to tell you, “keep the change,” as he reaches for his brown paper bag of goodies.

“Can I-” your voice draws his eyes, and he wonders what you might ask him. This is not part of your normal interactions, and he holds his breath waiting to see what might come of it. “Never mind, it’s probably a stupid question.”

“Good thing I like stupid questions,” he assures you, giving you the space to continue.

“I was just-” you take a deep breath. “I’ve looked into certain hybrids like yourself enjoying honey, and Winnie The Pooh always told me that bears like honey, but you can’t always rely on cartoons, can you?” Johnny chuckles at the idea. “As a regular, I was thinking maybe I could ask you about your personal experience with our products?”

“That’s a good question,” Johnny says, thinking about it for a moment. “You know my affinity for the blackberry honey - I’ve always had a sweet tooth - but in truth, all the honey sticks are for my niece. She’s the real addict in the family.”

“Really?” Your eyes have widened, and Johnny thinks it’s possible you’ve never been prettier than this moment. “I always- I mean, in the months you’ve been coming in, I just always assumed the honey sticks were for you-”

“Easy mistake,” he smiles.

“You’ve never come in with your niece,” you point out.

Johnny nods, looking around the perfect store. “Yeah. There’s a lot of expensive stuff in here, the pottery, the displays- I didn’t want to bring her in and be a bother so usually I pick stuff up before going to grab her from her school. It’s my day to babysit,” he explains, “and it’s nice to start it off with a little goodie bag.”

He goes to reach for the brown paper bag in question, but you’re quick to pull it away from him. “A goodie bag?” you repeat. “If I'd known this was a goodie bag, I would have put some tissue paper in here-” you’re already reaching under the till, taking out some cream coloured paper with golden spots and bees on it.

“It’s okay-”

“No,” you insist, “your niece is going to love this, trust me.” You press the fun tissue paper into the bag, and the soft crinkling sound makes Johnny smile. “Maybe a bow too?”

“She really doesn’t need a bow-”

“Most little girls like bows, Uncle Big Bear,” you tell him, reaching for the yellow ribbons next to the register. But then your hands freeze. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just called you Uncle Big Bear-”

“That’s okay,” he assures you.

“It’s not,” you shake your head, averting your gaze, and Johnny corrects himself from earlier. He’d thought seeing you shocked made you cute, but seeing you flustered makes you even cuter. “That was really unprofessional-”

“Trust me, It’s okay,” he tells you again. “Look, if you really feel bad about it, you can call me Johnny. You can say ‘most little girls like bows, Johnny’ and that will be fine by me. How’s that sound?”

He loves the way your careful hands wrap a pretty bow around one of the bag handles even as you look up at him with shy eyes. “Most little girls like bows, Johnny,” you say, voice quiet.

“Then I’m thankful you’ve given me tissue paper and a bow,” he grins. “Thanks for all of this,” he picks up the finished bag of goodies.

“You’re welcome,” you nod, biting on your lip. “And Johnny?”

He loves the way his name sounds coming from you. “Yeah?”

“Please bring your niece in. We’re a hybrid and child-friendly store. I’m sure she’d love it here.”

Johnny takes a moment before nodding. “Okay,” he concedes, giving you one last once over before heading to the door.

When he picks up his niece from school, she’s ecstatic to receive a new and improved goodie bag, giggling over the cream and gold, bee and polka dot tissue paper. She immediately tears into one of the honey sticks.

While you’re often on Johnny’s mind after his Queen B visits, today, he can’t get you out of his brain.

You’re halfway through completing a transaction with an older customer when your favourite regular walks into your store. The sight of him makes you do a double take, because today, he’s not alone.

He’s brought his niece in, just like you’d asked him to.

At about waist-high next to the gentle giant bear hybrid, the little girl looks absolutely adorable. She’s in a yellow and white polka dot dress, with two sparkly scrunchies keeping her dark hair up in pigtails just behind her large fluffy ears. Her hand is clasped in Johnny’s, and her eyes are full of wonder as she steps into the space.

“Thank you for shopping with us,” you say to the lady you’re helping, quickly finishing up so your attention can return to Johnny.

His niece is tugging on his hand now, attempting to run up to the display case that’s stocked with all your new honey stick flavours.

“These ones!” the little girl insists. “These are the ones you got me last week!”

“I know, Winnie, I know,” Johnny smiles, joining the little cub in front of the table of treats. “Your favourite was the peach one, right?”

“Uh huh!” The little girl, Winnie, nods enthusiastically. “But I also liked raspberry, and strawberry, and apple, and cherry-”

“Slow down there, cub,” Johnny laughs, bending down to lift his niece up so she can see the display better. “We’ve got all the time in the world to make your choices, right?”

“Right,” Winnie confirms, nodding solemnly as she gazes down at all the honey sticks.

“I think we’ll be needing a basket,” Johnny notes. “Can we go grab a basket?”

“Yeah!” Her enthusiasm makes you smile, and you reach under your till to grab something to carry their honey in, approaching the two with a heart that’s currently melting in your chest.

“Welcome to Queen B’s,” you say, drawing both of the bear hybrid’s eyes. “I heard a basket might be in order?”

You hold it out for Johnny, and he gives you a grateful smile while accepting it. “Yeah, thank you,” he adjusts his niece on his hip. “Winnie, this is y/n, she showed me all these new honey sticks last week and wrapped your goodie bag up in a bow.”

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” The little girl grins, flashing a toothy smile that shows her sharp canines are just starting to grow in.

“She loved the bow,” Johnny tells you. “Didn’t you, Winnie?”

“I loved it, see!” She thrusts out her hand, and you find the yellow ribbon wrapped around wrist.

“That’s very pretty, Winnie,” you smile, also noting her cute yellow nails. She’s a girl who has an obvious favourite colour, and it’s cute in comparison to the neutral blacks and browns Johnny often wears.

“Is it okay if she chooses her own honey sticks?” Johnny asks, holding his niece closer to the display stand.

“Of course!” You’re a little shocked by how polite Johnny is. Even after telling him you’re a kid-friendly store, he still double checks to make sure he’s not crossing any lines.

“Did you hear that, Winnie?” Johnny looks down at the cub in his arms. “You can choose which ones you want, but I promised your mom to only get twenty today. Do you think you can count to twenty for me while you grab your treats?”

“Of course I can!” Winnie insists, reaching out her little hand to circle a bunch of the peach flavored honey sticks. When she pulls the treats back to her chest, she begins counting, and Johnny joins in. The first five are easy, but she begins to falter a little at six and seven.

Johnny is as patient as ever, helping her through to ten before he stops her. “Is ten enough, cub? That’s half of twenty, you know.”

“Ten is enough,” Winnie sighs, dropping her chosen sticks into the basket before reaching to return those she won’t keep.

“What else?” Johnny asks, beginning to bob his niece up and down on his hip as she surveys the options.

“Two raspberry,” she concludes, and Johnny holds her closer to the tin of raspberry sticks. She plucks two out.

“What’s ten plus two?” Johnny questions.

“Uh…” Winnie looks up at her uncle and you watch him mouth the word twelve, which Winnie announces a moment later.

“Good job,” Johnny praises her. “Ten plus two is twelve. Okay, what’s next?”

“Two cherry.”

“What’s twelve plus two?”

“Uh…” again, Johnny mouths the answer, and Winnie declares “fourteen!” which earns her a few coos of admiration and another ‘good job’ that has you practically melting.

You suppose standing and watching the two is somewhat intrusive, so with a nod to Johnny, you step back, busying yourself on a nearby display case that needs some fixing.

You listen to the bear hybrids count all the way to twenty, and you hear Johnny congratulate Winnie again for counting so high.

You’d always gotten the vibe that Johnny is a softy, but seeing him in action is something else, and you find it harder and harder to stop the smile from appearing on your face at all his sweet actions.

Instead of approaching the till, Johnny asks Winnie if she wants to see some of the pottery on the walls, and the cub lets out an excited “Yes!”

“But remember,” Johnny says, voice turning serious as he puts his basket down and adjusts the girl in his arms, hands going onto her waist so he can lift her high enough to see the tall shelves, “keep your paws to yourself.”

“I promise,” Winnie giggles. “Uncle John! Look! This one’s a beehive!”

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Johnny nods.

“Very pretty,” Winnie confirms.

“Maybe I should get your mom one of these for her birthday,” Johnny says. “Do you think she’d like a honey jar?”

Winnie nods enthusiastically. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“Which one, cub? This one? Or…” he moves over a few feet, showing her another ceramic honey pot, “how about this?”

“They’re all so pretty,” Winnie admits.

“Well, how about you think about it, and when we come back next week, you can help me choose one. How’s that sound?”

He truly is a gentle giant, and you find yourself grabbing a few extra honey sticks from a display near the till in preparation for Johnny’s approach.

“Okay, cub,” he says as he carries his niece over, “I’m gonna have to set you down now so I can pay.”

“Okay,” Winnie nods, allowing herself to be placed back on the ground. She tucks in close to Johnny’s leg, looking around the store while Johnny sets the basket next to your till.

“How’s your day going?” Johnny asks, flashing you a smile as he reaches into his back pocket for his wallet.

“It’s going great,” you admit. “I was wondering if you’d actually come in today.”

“I told you last time, Monday’s the day I babysit.”

“And I told you to bring in your niece,” your eyes dip to the small bear hybrid still clinging to his leg, “I’m very glad you did.”

“Me too,” Johnny smiles. “How much do I owe you?”

You give him the price of his twenty honey sticks, moving them from the basket to a pretty goodie bag you’d prepared. Johnny hands you two bills, and as always, tells you to keep the change.

“Wait,” he says when he watches you put five extra honey sticks into the bag, “I didn’t buy those-”

“They’re on the house,” you assure him. “I understand that your sister made a twenty honey stick cap, but I figured, maybe Winnie will share some with you, so… here are extra ones. They’re a different brand, Overgrove Apiary, and they’re all blackberry, which I know is your favourite.”

“Wow,” Johnny accepts the goodie bag, immediately handing it off to Winnie, who reaches in to tear a honey stick out. “Thank you, I uh… I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” you assure him. “And by the way, the ice cream parlour next door has a new flavour out. It’s honeycomb.”

“Honeycomb!?” Winnie is midway through tearing open the stick in her hands, and she looks up at you with wide eyes.

“You’re trying to get me in trouble with her mother, aren’t you?” Johnny laughs.

“I’d never even think of doing such a thing,” you grin.

“Sure you wouldn’t,” Johnny looks you up and down, and you feel your skin heating under his gaze. “Have a good day, y/n.”

“You too, Johnny.”

You’ve been looking forward to Monday all weekend, and when Johnny walks in at 3:30 with Winnie on his shoulders, all the tension from your long day leaves your body.

“Hi, you two,” you greet them, coming from around the till to give them your full attention.

“Hi, y/n!” Winnie exclaims, waving enthusiastically at you.

“How’s your day going, cub?” you ask, looking up at the little girl clinging to Johnny’s head.

“It’s okay,” Winnie sighs.

“That doesn’t sound okay,” you note, reading her body language.

Your gaze dips to Johnny and he gives you a look. “Some kids were being mean to her in school today,” he confesses.

“What?” you look to Winnie again. “That doesn’t sound very nice.”

“It wasn’t,” she confirms with another loud sigh. “They were making fun of my ears.”

“But you have such wonderful ears,” you compliment her, frowning at the fact that the world is still full of people who are very much anti-hybrid.

“That’s what I told her,” Johnny nods.

“Uncle John wanted to know their names so he could go and gobble them up,” Winnie tells you, flashing a mischievous smile. “But I told him I could handle it. They might not like my ears, but they don’t know how to dress good either, so-” the cub shrugs, “how am I supposed to listen to girls who don’t know how to dress good?”

You find yourself laughing at her sass, nodding along. “That’s a very good point, Winnie. I have to admit, I liked your dress the first time you entered the shop, and I see you’re in an even prettier one today.”

“This one?!” Winnie looks down at the cream coloured poofy dress adorning her form. “Uncle John got it for me for my birthday.”

“Well, he also has an eye for fashion, doesn’t he?” You smile at Johnny, and he grins back at you.

“He does,” Winnie agrees. “Even though mommy says he should wear dress pants with a button up, I like his t-shirts.”

“I do too,” you nod. You’ve always liked Johnny’s style, the way he can wear a nice pair of dress pants with a casual shirt and sneakers.

“You guys are too nice to me,” Johnny insists, and you can see the hint of a blush in his pretty complexion.

“No such thing as too nice,” Winnie insists, “you taught me that, Uncle John.”

“I guess I did, didn’t I?” he sighs. “Anyways, you remember our mission today, right cub?”

“A honeypot for mommy,” the little girl on his shoulders nods.

“That’s right,” Johnny begins to move towards the shelves holding ceramics, and you shadow the pair.

“Is there anything that stood out to you the last time you were here, princess Winnie?” you ask.

The little girl kicks her feet with joy at the new title you’ve given her, and she nods. “The beehive.”

“The beehive,” Johnny repeats with a sigh, and his gaze shifts to you. “Our little Winnie is nothing if not predictable.”

You enjoy the sentiment, the use of the word ‘our’ as if you’re already a part of their little family. You certainly feel connected to the two bear hybrids, although you’ve only really been getting to know Johnny for a short time.

You hope you can get to know them better.

“Is this the beehive honey pot you want?” you ask, pointing at a lovely handmade ceramic on the top shelf.

“Uh huh, that’s the one,” Winnie nods, playing with Johnny’s ears as she holds onto his head. “Mommy’s going to love it.”

“I’m sure she will,” you agree. “Let me just get the step ladder so I can reach it-”

“No need,” Johnny assures you, stepping forward and reaching up to grab the honey pot. You marvel at how tall he is- “Here,” he holds it out for you, “would you mind taking that to the till while we grab our twenty honey sticks?”

“I don’t mind at all,” you smile, accepting the ceramic and holding it close to your chest.

Johnny helps Winnie off of his shoulders and the two head to the display case that holds your store’s best goodies. You walk over to the till, scanning the price tag of the honey pot and getting it prepared.

You wrap it in bubble wrap before placing it in a nice gift bag and adding tissue paper to obscure the pot. This is a present after all, and you take your time making it look nice.

You’re just finishing your task when Winnie and Johnny approach holding twenty honey sticks, and they wait patiently while you scan them too.

“Hey Winnie,” Johnny looks down at his niece, “How about you go take a look at that display case over there,” he suggests, “I’m sure there’s some stuff in it you haven’t seen before.”

Winnie looks confused for a moment, but then she shrugs, skipping off to look at the array of jarred honey in a display case a few meters away.

You cock a brow at Johnny while he pulls out his wallet.

“Listen,” he says, voice low as he pulls out cash, “I know this might be overstepping, and I’m sorry if that’s the case but… I’d really like to take you out some time.”

“Take me out?”

“On a date,” Johnny clarifies. “Again, shoot me down and there will be no hard feelings-”

“I’d love to,” you tell him.

“Really?” He breaks into a smile, and it makes your heart flutter with excitement.

“Really,” you confirm, reaching for a Queen B’s Honey business card. “Let me give you my number,” you say, grabbing a pen to write your digits on the back of the piece of paper.

When you hand it to Johnny, your fingers brush, and the contact makes your whole body light up with energy. You can tell from the way Johnny looks down at your number, skin flaring a slight pinkish colour, that he has no clue of the effect he has on you. “Thanks,” he mutters, voice cracking. “I’ll uh, give you a call later.”

“Wow, a call, not just a text,” you smile as you take Johnny’s cash, putting it into the register and counting out change.

“Let’s just say I’m old fashioned,” the bear grins sheepishly at you.

“I like it,” you confess. “It’s part of your charm.”

“I have charm?”

“Tons,” you nod.

“Good to know.” He licks his lips, looking down at you with those chocolate brown eyes that have always made you feel like melting into a puddle on the floor.

Winnie returns to grab her bag of honey sticks, and Johnny gently picks up the present for his sister. “Say goodbye to y/n, Winnie.”

“Goodbye, y/n. See you next week!”

“You better,” you grin. “I’ll be eager to find out how your mom likes her new honeypot.”

“She’ll love it,” Winnie says with the confidence that only a toddler truly possesses.

You adore her already.

“I’ll call you,” Johnny says again, giving you one last smile as you say goodbye and he turns to leave your store.

You watch him go, holding Winnie’s hand while the little girl skips along.

You kind of feel like skipping too.

Old fashioned Johnny is sweeter than the honey your store makes, and he calls you on Monday evening to see if you want to go to a fair on Thursday night. “You’re not scared of heights right? I can take you on the ferris wheel? They do fireworks at nine thirty for the kids but uh, I thought you might like watching them.”

He’s a gentleman, and you agree to all his ideas.

Waiting until Thursday is something like torture, but you somehow make it to the end of your shift and go home to get dolled up for Johnny. It will be the first time he sees you not in a work outfit, and you want to impress him.

You’d noted how proud he looked of Winnie’s dress when she’d mentioned he’d bought it for her, and you think Johnny might have a thing for cutesy looks, so you find your sweetest dress. It’s still modest, and when you look in the mirror, you realize you sort of look like one of those cute elementary school teachers you’ve seen in movies.

Finishing the outfit off with red lipstick, you think it’s a happy medium, after all, you will be at a fair with lots of children running around.

Johnny picks you up from your house, pulling up next to the curb in an old black muscle car convertible that takes your breath away as you approach.

“Wow,” you whisper, looking between him and the vehicle he’s leaning against.

“I should be saying that to you,” Johnny grins, straightening and holding out his hands. “You look amazing. Can you do a little spin for me?”

You allow him to grab your hand, and he helps you do a twirl that makes your dress dance.

“Perfect,” he tells you. “I’ve always liked your work outfit, but this dress is something else.”

“Really?” you beam up at him, allowing the bear hybrid to pull you to his chest.

“Would I lie to you?” he asks.

You stare into his eyes, and after a moment’s consideration, you shake your head. “No, you wouldn’t.”

You almost think Johnny’s about to kiss you, but then he swallows thickly and turns his head away, looking at the road. “Should we get going?”

“Yes, please.”

He drives a little wilder than the calm persona he exudes when he’s in your shop, and you find yourself giggling as he races down streets. It feels exhilarating to be in a convertible, the warm summer air rushing past.

Johnny grins at you when you laugh, pushing the car even harder to bring you more joy.

You’re already completely dazzled by the bear hybrid by the time you get to the fair, and the night just keeps getting better and better.

He holds your hand as you walk through the crowd, and he even wins you a massive teddy bear at one of the fair games. His baseball skills are no joke, and he easily knocks down all the bottles, triumphantly holding the teddy out to you as his prize.

“For me?” you ask in shock, accepting the toy.

“Of course, everyone needs a Big Bear in their life,” he tells you, and the glint in his smile makes you think you’ve already found yours.

The two of you go on a few rides, with you clinging to Johnny’s side during rough twists and turns. He keeps you and the teddy bear safe, laughing while you scream in delight. It feels like being a kid again. It’s something you’ve never really experienced, being at a fair on a date with a cute guy who seems to want to give you the world.

It’s nine twenty before you even know it, and Johnny leads you to the ferris wheel.

“We should get to the top by the time the fireworks start,” he tells you before pulling out his wallet and stepping close to the teenage boy working the ride. “I’ll pay you twenty bucks to give us an extra five minutes at the top.”

“I can do that,” the teenager nods, quickly pocketing the bill before helping you both onto the ferris wheel. “Here, I’ll take care of the bear for you,” he says, as there’s no way you both will fit on the ride with the massive stuffed animal. The seats are for two adults, and Johnny pulls out another five to give to the attendant before sitting next to you.

The bar is secured in place, locking you in next to the bear hybrid who smoothly puts his arm behind you, laying it across the back of the seats. “It’s a nice night,” he tells you.

“A perfect night,” you agree. “I’m so happy you asked me to do this with you.”

“I’m happy you came,” he smiles. “I wasn’t sure if asking you out while you were at work was a good idea, but, I guess after seeing you interact with Winnie, I just couldn’t pass up on the opportunity.”

“Your niece is wonderful,” you breathe.

“She’s a good cub,” Johnny nods.

“Seeing as we’re going to be on this ride for a while, do you mind if I ask you some questions about yourself? We’ve spent the whole night doing things, and I don’t actually know that much about you.”

“You can ask me anything.”

“Let's start with what you do for work?”

Johnny laughs. “Any guesses?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure you’re not a nine to five kind of guy-”

“I’m not,” he confirms.

“You dress so well, part of me wants to say you’re involved in fashion or something.”

“Good idea,” Johnny grins, “but unfortunately no, I’m not involved with any fashion work. I think my job is a hard one to guess, so I’ll just tell you. I run a club with a few close friends.”

“You run a club?” you blink at him.

“Don’t look so shocked, Bee,” Johnny smiles, and your heart does flip flops at the new pet name. “It’s a hybrid bar in midtown.”

“A hybrid bar,” you repeat.

“Humans are allowed in the front section, but we have a back that’s exclusive for hybrids. It’s a safe space for us, and I’m there a lot, especially during the weekends, keeping an eye on things,” he explains.

“Tell me about the friends you work with?”

“First, there’s Hyuck. He’s a pretty peculiar guy. Then there’s Renjun, and Yuta, he’s a wolf hybrid. But at this point, I’m friends with a lot of the workers too. We have this raven manager, Doyoung, and I love watching him run around like a stressed chicken with his head cut off-” Johnny smiles to himself. “You’ll have to come by sometime and meet them.”

“That would be nice,” you nod. “I mean, you’ve seen me at work so often, it would be interesting to see you in your own element.”

“Honestly, I’m not so sure the club is my element. It’s a good way to make money, and I don’t have to do much- it’s one of the perks of being a part owner. But if I had to choose between your store and the club, I think I’d rather be at the honey shop.”

“So you can watch me run around like a stressed chicken with my head cut off?” you tease.

“You always seem so put together,” Johnny tells you.

“That’s because you often show up when no one else is in the store. You should see what it’s like during a Saturday rush.”

The bear hybrid laughs. “Maybe I’ll have to pop by, then.”

You’re only halfway up the ferris wheel, and you’re a little surprised when a sudden loud pop marks the beginning of the fireworks. You tear your gaze from Johnny, focusing on the blue and green explosion that’s lighting up the dark sky.

“Wow, this view is amazing!” you exclaim.

“It is,” Johnny agrees, and you can see out of the corner of your eye that the charming man hasn’t stopped staring at you just yet. “I knew you’d like it here.”

He adjusts his arm behind you, finally resting his hand casually over your shoulder, and you immediately tuck yourself closer to the bear hybrid. His large body is so warm and comforting, and you enjoy the peaceful quiet that settles over you both as you watch the fireworks.

The ride moves, bringing you closer to the prime spot at the top of the ferris wheel. You can feel yourself getting giddier- you’ve never been on a date like this. Never experienced something this perfect.

“You’re cute,” Johnny says.

“I am?” You look at the bear hybrid next to you.

“Uh huh,” Johnny nods. “The way your eyes light up when you’re watching the fireworks- I’ve never seen anything prettier.”

“Stop, you’re such a charmer,” you blush, hiding your face against the crook of his neck.

“Just being honest,” he tells you, stroking your shoulder.

The ride begins to move again, and you pull away from Johnny to marvel at the view again.

From the top of the ferris wheel, you can see everything. The whole fairground is laid out below you, twinkling and brilliant. The fireworks are dazzling, filling the sky with colourful explosions.

You turn to Johnny and something comes over you. You want to say thank you, but the words themselves won’t suffice, so instead, you lean close, pressing your lips to his cheek. Johnny practically freezes, and when you pull away, you see a red lipstick stain on his skin.

Johnny turns his head to look at you, gaze darting down to your mouth-

Again, you’re hit with a surge of confidence, and this time, when you lean in, it’s not his cheek you’re aiming for.

Johnny’s lips are soft, gentle against your own, and then his hand comes up to cup your face. You don’t want to pull away. You can tell he doesn’t want you to either. His mouth parts, tongue gently teasing your bottom lip, and you let him deepen the kiss.

Your body is tingling with energy as you lean closer to him, grabbing at the front of his shirt. When your own tongue darts out to taste him, the bear hybrid lets out a groan, and you mirror it with a pleasured sound of your own.

A loud bang makes you jump a little in his embrace, and Johnny smiles against your lips, releasing your face so you can turn to admire the large firework that’s just been set off.

“John,” you breathe, “this is perfect.”

“It’s how I wanted our first kiss to be,” he muses. “As much as I wanted to kiss you when I picked you up, I knew waiting would have its rewards.”

So he wanted to kiss you as much as you wanted to kiss him, and the thought has your heart thumping loudly in your chest.

You can’t help but press your lips to his again, smiling into the kiss while Johnny tugs you closer. His free hand slips down to your thigh, and you moan at how good it feels.

It’s shocking how just kissing Johnny is already doing so much to your body- as if some primal instinct is taking over.

You’re not sure how long you remain lip locked, but when the ride jolts into motion again, you break the kiss, laughing a little as you bury your face against his neck.

The bear hybrid holds you tighter, and you remain in his embrace for the rest of the ride.

When you reach the ground again, Johnny holds out a hand and helps you out of your seat. The teenage ride attendant gives Johnny the bear stuffie, and he carries it for you as you walk through the fairgrounds towards his car.

You’re amazed with how comfortable you are with Johnny, and the ride home is filled with as many speed fueled giggles as your drive to the fairground had been.

When you reach your house, Johnny even walks you to the door.

You kiss him again, loving the way that his size dwarfs your own. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, not wanting to let go. But all good nights must come to an end, and after a long makeout session, you finally pull away to catch your breath.

“When can I see you again?” Johnny asks.

“Monday?” you suggest.

“With Winnie?” The bear hybrid laughs. “Are you sure you’re not using me to get to my niece?”

You grin, enjoying his playful banter. “I was just thinking that you said you work most evenings on the weekend, and I work during the day, so our schedules are conflicting.”

“Right, yeah,” Johnny nods. “What are you doing Tuesday, after work?”

“You tell me.”

“Movies,” Johnny states. “I want to take you to the movies.”

“Is there anything good showing?”

“Probably,” he shrugs. “I figure anything will be good if you’re there with me.”

He’s such a sweet talker, and you give him a kiss, thanking him for the lovely evening. “I’ll see you Monday, John.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Why are you rushing, Uncle John?” Winnie asks as Johnny speeds down the street after picking her up from school.

“No reason,” he says, although it's partially a lie.

He’s excited to see you, even if it’s just for a short interaction while Winnie gets her honey fix. However, his niece is right, Johnny is going a little too fast, and it’s almost torture for him to slow down.

He all but hops out of the car when he parks in front of your shop, opening the back door for Winnie to exit the vehicle as well. They enter Queen B’s Honey with enthusiasm, although the cause of that enthusiasm is very different.

Winnie goes straight for the honey stick display, but Johnny’s much more focused on you. You’re restocking a few honey jars on a top shelf, wobbling a little on your stepping stool, and the bear hybrid is quick to rush to your aid.

“Hey there,” he breathes, steadying a hand on your waist. “Carefull, Bee.”

“Oh, hi, John,” you grin down at him.

“Hi, yourself,” he smiles, watching you put the last jar in its place.

You turn, resting your hands on his shoulders as you step down to the floor, and Johnny loves the way you’re so much shorter than he is. He could just eat you up-

“Hi, Winnie!” You wave at his niece over his shoulder.

“Hi!” she calls back, and when Johnny turns, he sees his little cub is already reaching to grab a few peach honey sticks from their jar. She’s occupied, and it gives Johnny the chance to talk to you one on one a little, something he’s very grateful for.

“How was your weekend?” he asks.

“Busy,” you laugh. “You?”

“Busy,” he grins. “Was thinking about you a lot.”

“You were, were you?” There’s a twinkle in your eye, and it all but bewitches the bear hybrid who still has a hand on your hip. “Did I really leave that good of an impression?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” he confesses. “Were you thinking about me too?”

“More than I care to say,” you nod.

“Are we still on for that movie tomorrow?”

“Of course, unless you’ve changed your mind-”

“Never.”

“Uncle John!” Winnie’s voice snaps Johnny out of his daze, and he tears his gaze from your lips to look at his niece.

“Yeah, cub?”

“I can’t reach the cherry honey!”

“Oh no,” Johnny says in an animated fashion, letting go of your waist to go help Winnie. “We can’t have that, can we?” He lifts his niece up, helping her grab a handful of honey sticks. “Woah there cub, how many of these have you got already?”

“Just a few,” she insists, adding her new goodies to a hand already holding a large number of peach sticks.

“Just a few,” Johnny chuckles. It’s obvious that Winnie has forgotten her candy cap. “Can you count to twenty for me?”

“Just twenty?” Winnie whines.

“You know we’ll both get in trouble with your mom if you have any more than that.”

Winnie sighs with exasperation, putting a few of the cherry sticks back in their jar.

“There we go,” Johnny grins. “Just peach and cherry today?”

“They’re my favourites,” Winnie insists.

It’s a shame that his little cub doesn’t take longer choosing honey, as it means there’s less time with you, but Johnny also supposes that he shouldn’t be monopolizing on goodie time. He’ll get to see you tomorrow, even though it pains him to head to the till and say goodbye to you so soon.

“Have a wonderful day, you two,” you grin.

“We will,” Johnny promises. His day is already fantastic now that he’s seen you, and he’ll carry the memory of helping you off that stool for many hours to come. “Don’t work too hard.”

“No promises,” you wink.

God, you’re perfect.

“Don’t be mad,” Johnny says, which is not a great start to a call thirty minutes before he’s supposed to pick you up for your date, “but when Winnie heard I was going to the theater with you, she insisted on coming because there’s this new Disney movie that’s showing, and her mom jumped at the idea to have her own date night-”

You listen to the bear hybrid ramble with a smile on your face, and when he finishes, he asks you if you’re okay with Winnie tagging along. “I’d love for her to join us,” you tell him. “You know I adore Winnie.”

Johnny lets out a loud sigh on the other end of the line. “Have I ever told you how perfect you are?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, you are. Very perfect. Thanks for understanding.”

Half an hour later Johnny’s at your door, but he’s not in the convertible muscle car. Instead, an SUV is waiting on the curb, and you see Winnie waving at you frantically through the window.

“You look amazing,” Johnny breathes, taking in your dress with a smile.

“You clean up well too, John,” you smile, enjoying the brown checkered pants and white shirt he’s wearing.

“I’m sorry about this-”

“Don’t be,” you assure him. “As I said on the phone, I’m happy for the little cub to join.”

“Yeah,” Johnny sighs. “This was supposed to be a date-”

“It can still be a date,” you tell him, and you truly mean it.

It’s obvious to you that Winnie is a big part of Johnny’s life, and if you’re going to be part of his world too, it only makes sense for you to embrace his family.

When you get into the car, Winnie is quick to say hello, and she’s practically bouncing in her seat in the back of the vehicle. “It is you!” she exclaims. “Uncle John told me you’d be coming, but I didn’t really believe him!”

“No?” you smile. “Why’s that, cub?”

“Because you’re a princess, and he’s just Uncle John!”

“Ouch,” Johnny laughs, slipping behind the wheel. “That hurts, Win.” He turns the key in the ignition, casting a glance at you. “Do we all have our seatbelts on?”

“Yes, John,” you smile, and your sentiment is echoed by Winnie in the back, “of course, Uuncle John!”

“Why?” he presses, looking over his shoulder at the child in the back seat.

“Because safety is the most important thing!” she all but yells, and you think this must be something of a ritual for the two of them. It’s sweet, and it makes you fall even harder for the bear hybrid.

“Can we turn on my music?” Winnie asks next.

“Of course, cub,” Johnny nods, reaching for the center console, fingers pausing over the play button. “That is, if Miss Bee doesn’t mind the Lion King soundtrack.”

“Not at all,” you assure him.

Music fills the car a moment later, as does Winnie’s high pitched singing voice. When it reaches the chorus of the song, even Johnny joins in, and you wonder how many times he’s listened to this sound track with his niece.

It’s a soft experience, and one you savor every second of as Johnny drives you to the theater.

Winnie insists on walking between you and Johnny when she exits the car, holding both of your hands and doing little jumps that force you and her uncle to lift her off the ground while she giggles.

Once inside, you wait in the concession line and Winnie tells you all about the movie you’re going to see. She’s a massive Disney fan, and you enjoy listening to her talk. You catch Johnny staring at you a few times, and he always flashes you a smile when you meet his eyes.

Johnny gets a large popcorn with extra butter, and when he hands it to Winnie, she notes, “This is as big as me!”

In the theater, Johnny’s adorable niece once again insists on sitting in the middle, and Johnny lets out a small sigh but doesn’t argue with his niece. When you take your seats, however, his arm immediately goes along the back of the chairs, and his fingers find the back of your neck, gently stroking your skin.

He smiles at you when you turn to look at him, giving you a small wink before he entertains Winnie with a discussion on what colour his tail would be if he was a mermaid. Winnie decides hers would be yellow, and when Johnny says his would be green, she insists his would be brown because he’s a brown bear hybrid.

“Does that make you a yellow bear?” Johnny questions teasingly.

“A honey bear,” Winnie corrects. “And Miss Bee would be pink.”

“Really?” Johnny’s brows raise. “And why’s that, cub?”

“Because she has a pretty pink soul,” the child smiles, looking up at you. “And also, your dress is pink, and I like it.”

“Thank you, Winnie, I like your dress too.”

Winnie kicks her feet happily and Johnny rubs his thumb along the back of your neck in small, warm circles.

The lights dim, the movie starts, and you find that you’re thoroughly enjoying yourself. It’s nice to have Johnny’s gentle touch, a constant reminder that - although you’re here with his niece - he’s still doing his best to be attentive to you.

The film flies by, and before you know it, the three of you are exiting the theater. Winnie is dragging her feet, obviously exhausted from a long day at school and an evening movie, so Johnny picks her up, holding her tight to his chest while she wraps her legs around his waist and all but passes out on his shoulder.

At the car, you help Johnny put Winnie into the back seat, and when he closes the door, he turns to you. “Thank you for all of this.”

“Stop thanking me,” you smile. “I enjoyed myself.”

“Me too.” His hands find your waist, and he tugs you closer- only for his phone to ring.

“Shit,” Johnny cusses, the first swear word you’ve heard from him. “One sec, it’s my sister.”

He answers the call, assuring Winnie’s mom that the movie went well and they’ll be home soon. When he hangs up, Johnny tugs you to his chest again, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips.

He seems reluctant to let you go, but he opens your car door for you all the same, shutting it gently behind you once you’re tucked inside.

The drive home is quiet, as Winnie has fully passed out in the back seat. Johnny’s hand is on your thigh, and you place your own on top of his, playing with his fingers.

When you reach your house, Johnny exits the car to walk you to your door, where he kisses you, cupping your face and taking your breath away.

“I want to see you again,” he says, still holding you close.

“I’d love that.”

“How about Thursday? The club usually isn’t that busy on Thursdays. You could come meet a few of my friends.”

“Okay,” you nod. “I think I’d like that.”

“Perfect,” Johnny leans in to kiss you again, and as much as you’d love to melt against him, you’re very aware that Winnie’s mom is waiting for her back home.

“Drive safe, please,” you say when you finally pull away.

“I always do.”

You laugh. “That’s debatable.”

“You just don’t trust my driving skills yet,” Johnny insists.

Before you can stop him, he gives you one final kiss goodbye, and when you watch him turn to walk back to his car, you find yourself wishing he didn’t have to leave.

On Thursday night, you face the dilemma of figuring out what to wear for your date with Johnny. The past two experiences had been fairly classic, with a fair adventure and a trip to the movies, both perfectly suitable locations to wear a cute dress. But tonight, you’re going to a club and you wonder how that should affect your clothing choice.

After much contemplation, and about ten different outfit try-ons, you decide to stick with your usual baby doll style. Johnny seems to like it when you dress cute for him, and you’re banking on the fact that the bear hybrid likes you for you, as opposed to the girls who frequent his club in all forms of scandalous attire.

You’re feeling a little anxious about visiting a hybrid bar, if you’re being honest with yourself. It’s not that you personally have anything against hybrids, you’re just used to only being around one or two at a time.

You suppose maybe this is how Johnny feels, being a hybrid in a human dominant world, and the thought makes you a little sad. He always gives off such an air of ease and calmness, as if he doesn’t have a bother in the world. You wonder what adversities he’s had to overcome to get to that mentality, or if he was simply born that way.

Before you know it, Johnny’s picking you up. The convertible muscle car is back, and you take a moment to appreciate him leaning against it on the curb.

He’s dressed up tonight, more so than usual. His dress pants are paired with a button up, and its black silky material is soft to the touch when he pulls you to his chest for a kiss. “You look perfect,” he tells you, pinching at your chin and looking you up and down. “My perfect little honey bee doll.”

“I’m happy you like my dress,” you grin, swaying your hips so the skirt picks up.

Johnny grabs your hand, giving you the space to help you twirl while he lets out a whistle of appreciation. “I always like your dresses,” he admits. “I like your jeans and white t-shirt work outfits, but, I mean…when you walked out on our first date in a dress, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

“Good, I can’t take my eyes off of you either.”

You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him into one last kiss before he opens the car door for you and helps you inside.

The ride is a peaceful one. He asks about your day, tells you about his own, and before you know it, you’re pulling up in front of his club. “You ready to meet my friends, gorgeous?” he asks, reaching over to give your hand a squeeze of reassurance.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you smile, leaning forward to kiss his cheek before exiting the car.

When you enter the club, with Johnny’s hand securely on the small of your back, it feels like any other bar you’ve been to. The staff are mostly hybrids, but you notice a few humans dressed in black too.

“It’s nice in here,” you tell him, beaming up at the man who makes you so eager to please.

“If you like this, wait till you see the back room,” Johnny grins, leading you past the bar.

“Oh,” you swallow thickly. “Didn’t you mention that the back is hybrid exclusive? Are you sure we should be going back there?”

“You have a good memory,” the bear nods. “It’s hybrid exclusive, but I'm a part owner, so I figure I can do what I want. Besides, this front section doesn’t have a VIP seating area, and my friends prefer to be in places where people can’t overhear us.”

“Are you planning on giving me some trade secrets, John?” You cock a brow and the bear hybrid laughs.

“Something like that.”

You reach the back door, where a bunny hybrid looks you up and down, his large, floppy ears twitching before his gaze shifts to Johnny. “Yuta said you’d be coming in tonight.”

You notice a puppy hybrid of sorts standing a few feet to the side, and his beautiful face is unreadable, his eyes fixed on you.

“Of course he did,” Johnny smiles at the bunny. “There’s not much Yuta can keep from you, is there, Markie?”

The bunny hybrid’s cheeks flare a cute shade of pink and he lets out a cough. “He’s uh… he’s waiting for you in VIP. Hyuck’s there too.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Johnny says, applying a small amount of pressure onto your lower back which prompts you to step past Mark and through the open doorway.

Johnny was right about the hybrid exclusive section being nicer than the front, and you hurry to take it all in with your eyes. As you scan the space, it’s hard not to notice a few looks you get from people within the room.

You’re not sure if it’s because you’re with Johnny, or because you’re a human, but when your eyes catch the gaze of a man behind the bar with large, black raven wings, you get the feeling that it might be the latter.

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” you ask, tucking closer to Johnny’s side.

“Definitely,” Johnny nods, leading you toward a set of stairs that leads to the VIP section. “Especially up here.” He takes your hand as you ascend, and you see a booth with two men sitting in it.

One has white hair to match his ashy wolf ears, and you think this must be the Yuta that Johnny has mentioned to you. The other man has his back to you, and you don’t see any obvious hybrid markings.

Johnny hadn’t mentioned much about this ‘Hyuck’ friend of his, other than him being peculiar, and you begin to wonder if Hyuck might be human like you. It would definitely make you feel more comfortable.

“Hey, guys,” Johnny greets his friends as you come to a stop in front of the table. “How’s it going?”

Both the men turn to look at you, and like the hybrids at the door, their gaze shifts down and then back up. The wolf is the first to stand, pulling out of the booth to shake your hand.

“I’m Yuta, and you must be the honey girl,” he flashes you a smile complete with sharp canines that glint in the light. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

“You have?”

“Johnny has been talking about you for months,” Hyuck breathes, but he doesn’t stand. “It was good to hear he finally grew some balls-”

“Hyuck,” Johnny groans, a warning in his tone. “Be nice.”

“You love bears probably want to sit next to each other,” Yuta says, slipping into the booth next to his friend and giving you the other side of the bench.

“Thanks,” Johnny nods, allowing you to sit first before he moves next to you, his arm immediately taking its place behind your shoulders. “Have you two been here long?”

Hyuck shakes his head, playing with the glass of amber liquid in front of him, but it’s Yuta who speaks. “Not long,” he assures you both, obviously the more talkative of the two. “Hyuck was here before me though, something about fucking his girlfriend in the staff bathroom-”

Hyuck grins mischievously and you wonder if this is a common occurrence for him.

“Does your girlfriend work here?” you ask, hoping to get into Hyuck’s good graces.

“Yeah,” his gaze shifts to the dance floor below. “She’s the sexy little bunny running around in that cute black dress.”

“She’s very pretty,” you smile.

“It runs in her family,” Yuta comments.

You’re confused for a moment before Johnny is leaning in close to your ear, “the bunny at the door, Mark, is her brother.”

“Oh,” you blink as you look at the men in front of you. “So you’re dating siblings?”

“I wouldn’t call what Yuta does with Mark dating-” Hyuck grins, earning an elbow in the ribs from the wolf on his side.

Johnny lets out a chuckle. “They’re both being very bad club owners, if you ask me.”

To be fair, both Yuta and Hyuck seem like the types to date their workers, but you suppose you shouldn’t hold that against them. These are Johnny’s friends, and you’re not about to start judging them now.

“So, Hyuck,” you look at the man across from you. “I can’t help but notice you don’t have any uh… any hybrid marks? Let me know if I’m being too forward, but are you human, or?”

Hyuck scoffs. “Definitely not.”

“And before you ask,” Yuta buts in, “his hybrid type is classified information.” The wolf flashes you a wink, and you suppose you should drop the topic. However, you can’t help the pang of anxiety that clutches your heart when you realize you truly are the only human in this back room.

“Johnny,” you look at the bear sitting next to you. “Are you really sure I should be here?”

“It’s fine-” Johnny goes to assure you again, but you can tell from the darkening of Hyuck’s gaze that maybe he doesn’t agree.

Before you can say anything else, Hyuck’s bunny hybrid girlfriend shows up. She smiles at Johnny, asking if he wants the usual, but when her eyes move to you, and you see her nose do a small wiggle, you realize she’s clocking you as a human.

“And what can I get your friend?” the bunny asks, and you’re thankful that she’s still being polite to you, but you can’t shake the feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Actually, I think maybe I need some air,” you admit, taking a deep breath.

You suddenly feel very claustrophobic, and it might have to do with being surrounded by predatory hybrids. You don’t know what Hyuck is, exactly, but you’re sure he’s something big, because he acts like he’s got the biggest cock in the room.

“Are you okay?” Johnny asks, standing up from the booth to give you the space to escape your seat.

“Yeah, I just need to go outside for a moment,” you shake your head, turning to apologize to his friends before moving past the bunny hybrid and walking back down the stairs.

You can hear Johnny following you, but you’re in something of a rush as you weave through hybrids staring you down on the dance floor. When you get to the door leading to the front section, Mark stops you with a hand on your forearm. “Are you okay?” he asks, looking genuinely concerned.

“I’m fine, thank you-”

Johnny appears behind you, taking control of the situation as he tells Mark, “She just needs some air.”

The bunny hybrid lets you go, and you scurry to the front door, finally making your escape onto the street where you feel like you can finally take a breath.

Johnny stands two feet away from you, watching you with an empathetic expression. He gives you time to take a few deep inhales before reaching for your hand and pulling you to his chest. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m probably overreacting-”

“You’re not,” he assures you, cupping your face and giving you a soft smile.

“I just… I feel like… everyone should have a safe space, you know? And I worry that, as a human, being in that back section was sort of like… invading the sanctity of your hybrid only zone. I’m really sorry, John, but I’m not sure if I can go back in there.”

“That’s okay,” he nods. “Maybe I was being…” he searches for the word, “presumptuous tonight. I wanted you to meet my friends, but I didn’t think too hard about how you might feel in that environment. I’m sorry I put you in this situation.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you shake your head. “I’m sorry-”

“Well we can’t both be sorry,” Johnny grins. “So maybe neither of us should be. Maybe tonight just didn’t work out, but that’s okay.”

“Really?” Relief floods your system as you look up into Johnny’s soft brown eyes.

“Really,” he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “What do you say about going somewhere else?”

“Somewhere else?”

“How about my place?” he suggests. “I was planning on inviting you after this, but we could go there now if you want. No pressure though.”

You take a deep breath before you find yourself nodding. “I think I’d like that.”

“Good.” His thumb smooths by your cheek.

“Do you have to go back inside to say goodbye to your friends? I feel bad about making them come down here to meet me only to run away-”

“Trust me, those two would be here watching their bunnies even if we didn’t come out tonight. I’ll just send them a text and explain the situation. We can always meet them another night, at another bar.”

“And you’re sure they won’t hate me?”

“I don’t think anyone could ever hate you, Bee. You’re much too sweet for that kind of reaction.” Johnny smiles. “In fact, I bet Hyuck will be impressed.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because you care so much about the sanctity of the hybrid zone. Much more than I do.”

“You really think your friends will be alright?”

“Without a doubt.” He leans down to press another sweet kiss to your lips, but this one lingers. When he finally pulls away, you’re left wanting more, but he’s already reaching behind himself to open the door to his car for you. “Let’s go, gorgeous. My house is nicer than this place anyways.”

Johnny’s right about his house, it’s much nicer than the club. You guess you shouldn’t be shocked that he’s got a place just out of town, nestled amongst the trees of the forest. It’s a sleek place to live, and you admire the wood detailing of the upgraded cabin like exterior.

“This is a big house,” you muse, as you follow Johnny up the stone steps.

“Too big for me, I think,” he admits. “But it was one of the only places I could find with acreage in the forest, and I wanted a space that felt like home, you know? Winnie loves it here, some nights she sleeps over and we have a fire in the back with s’mores, other days I take her on some of the hiking trails- my land connects with the national forest, and we’ve got easy access to one of the better hiking paths in the park.”

Your heart melts a little. You know Johnny is a fabulous uncle, but you hadn’t realized the true extent of it.

“I love how close you are with Winnie,” you admit. “It can be rare to find a single guy who’s so doting on his younger family members.”

“Then I’m glad we found each other,” Johnny grins. “I’ve had ex’s in the past who would get mad about the time I spend with Winnie, but not you. I really did appreciate how well you took her date crashing that other night.”

“Like I said, it wasn’t a problem. I had a wonderful time.”

Johnny flashes you a grin as he lets you into his house, and you marvel at the interior being as lovely as the outside had been.

“Wow…it feels even bigger inside,” you note. “Will you give me a tour?”

“Of course,” Johnny tosses his keys down on an entryway table, grabbing your hand to begin showing you around.

The lower level has a state of the art kitchen with french doors that open to the outside deck, and Johnny tells you about the barbecues he hosts here. “We even had a family reunion out back two years ago,” he admits. “I’ve got extra rooms, so my grandparents stayed here, and a few of my aunts and uncles- it was a really good time.”

“That sounds like a wonderful reunion,” you smile, enjoying how deep his love for family truly runs.

There’s a large dining room, and a living room with glass windows giving views to the forest. In the corner there’s even a toy chest, and Johnny explains how he bought so many things for Winnie through the years that he just started keeping some at his own house for the time she’d be here with him.

You love that he’s not a man afraid to share his space with a six year old, even if the toy chest does stand out amongst the other furnishings.

The second level is where the bedrooms are, and Johnny lets you peek into Winnie’s room, where there are even more toys overflowing in baskets.

Two more guest bedrooms brings the grand total of sleeping locations to a whopping four, and you can’t help but ask the question that’s on your mind. “Do you think you’d ever want to raise a family here? You’ve got more than enough space for it.”

“Oh, definitely,” Johnny nods. “Some days, when I’m here alone, I think about how much nicer it would be to have a few of my own cubs running around…” he licks his lips, pausing to look at you. “I don’t think we’ve ever talked about whether or not you’d want to have kids.”

“But I’m sure you can guess my answer,” you smile.

Johnny nods, grinning. “I bet you’d love to be a mom, and you’d be good at it, too.”

“Thank you,” you feel heat rising in your skin. “I guess my affection for kids is hard to hide, huh?”

“It’s sweet,” he tells you, “just another one of those perfect attributes of yours.”

He pulls you in for a kiss, and you melt against him, enjoying the warmth of his body.

When Johnny moves away, you’re in something of a daze, and you blink up at him.

“Saved the best room for last,” he tells you, reaching down to take your hand and lead you down the hallway to the final door.

His room truly is the most impressive of them all, a master bedroom if you’ve ever seen one. With floor to ceiling windows along an entire wall, and a large space fitting a bed as well as a seating area, tv and fireplace, you think you could be very satisfied spending a lot of time here.

“Wow, John,” you let out a breath. “I can’t believe this is real, I can’t believe you actually live here-”

“So you like it?” he questions, pressing his body against your back and wrapping his arms around you, head on your shoulder. “My bear cave?”

“If this is a cave, I never want to go back to a real house,” you laugh.

“I might hold you to that,” Johnny says, voice low.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling of being in his embrace. And that’s when you feel something hard beginning to press against your bum.

You swallow thickly, leaning back against him while you gain your courage. You know Johnny’s not the type to force anything on you, and something tells you that if you don’t make this first move, you might miss your chance.

Turning in his arms, you look up into Johnny’s chocolate brown eyes. Then you’re kissing him, putting all the passion that’s been brewing into the meeting of your lips. You thread your fingers through his soft hair, eager to get close to him, closer than you’ve ever been before.

You can definitely feel the outline of his cock against your abdomen now, and his hands reach down to find your hips, anchoring you to the front of his body while his tongue glides against your own.

“John,” you moan when his lips move to your neck, “I need you.”

“Yeah?” His tongue grazes your sweet spot and you shiver in his embrace, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling of him.

“More than I’ve ever needed anything,” you tell him, meaning it with all of your heart.

With a groan, Johnny reaches down, grabbing your ass and prompting you to jump so you can wrap your legs around his hips. In just a few steps, he can lower you to his bed, and you expect him to follow, to press you against the mattress with his large body-

But instead, he pulls away, looking down at you with dark eyes filled with lust. “You’re perfect,” he whispers, reaching down to play with the bottom of your dress. “I’ve been dreaming about how you’ll taste on my tongue.”

Your pussy throbs at the idea, and you gaze up at him with a body alight in anticipation. “Then… then you should taste me, John.”

The bear hybrid lets out another groan, and then he’s falling to his knees on the edge of the bed, large hands grabbing at your legs to pull you closer.

His lips find your calf, and then your knee. When his face is between your thighs, his pretty ears brush your skin and make you shiver.

“Ticklish?” he grins, continuing to pepper your thighs with soft kisses.

“Very,” you confirm, reaching down to pull the skirt of your dress higher, revealing your underwear to the man between your legs.

“Shit, Bee,” Johnny says, voice shaky as he looks at your core. “You’re soaked through your panties,” at first, his words make heat rise through your body, embarrassment- but then Johnny’s taking a deep breath, and he looks up at you when he comments, “It’s so hot.”

His hands grab at your hips, and in one motion, he’s pulled your pussy to his mouth, tongue pressing against the light pink fabric of your underwear.

It feels amazing, but it’s also such a tease- you can feel the wetness of his own tongue, but it’s just out of reach.

“Johnny, please,” you whimper, pushing your hips forward, wanting more-

His nose brushes by your clit and your legs shake on his shoulders, a gasp of pleasure leaving you as you throw your head back and close your eyes.

His fingers hook in your panties, and it’s a relief when he finally pulls them down your legs, discarding them over his shoulder before diving into your pussy. This time, there’s no fabric in his way, and his tongue licks at you directly, a sensation that drives you completely wild.

“John, it’s so good-” you groan, feeling the need to praise the man who pushes his tongue into your core.

He moans in response, and the vibration has your body tingling. You could get lost in something like this, and you can already feel your mind going practically blank. All that matters is the here and now, you and Johnny.

His nose brushes your clit again and a squeal of delight escapes you, your hands flying to grab at his soft hair and fuzzy ears. “John-”

He pulls his tongue out of your wet hole, licking a full stipe of your pussy before he begins to circle your clit, and you swear you’re in heaven.

You can feel tension building in the pit of your stomach, and you know you’re not going to last long like this. No one’s ever eaten you out before with such vigor, such a need to have you like putty in his hands, and you’re more than happy to comply. In fact, you don’t think you’ll be able to help yourself.

His lips suction around your clit and your legs shake on his shoulders, your grip tightening in his hair, which only makes him groan again. You gasp at the feeling, pushing your hips up, needing more contact-

“I’m close,” you whisper, pussy throbbing as he worships your most sensitive spots.

Suddenly, you feel something else, a finger slipping into your tight hole, and you let out another sound of pleasure. One digit becomes two, and they crook up expertly, reaching a spot that has you crying out.

“That’s it,” Johnny says, pulling just off your pussy, breath teasing your entrance. “I want you to cum, Bee. Want you to cum so bad-”

You let out a strangled gasp from the praise, and when his lips return to your clit, fingers pumping in and out of your pussy, you know you’re going to be a goner.

You pull on his hair, legs shaking as you teeter on the edge of ecstasy. When Johnny growls, the vibrations are enough to send you over, and your pussy clamps down on his fingers, whole body overcome with pleasure that brings a tear to your eye due to the intensity of it all.

He continues his motions, helping you through your high until you’re wiggling in his gasp. His free hand smooths against your abdomen, keeping you still while his tongue and fingers begin to slow.

When he pulls his mouth away, you can finally take a full breath, shuddering in the aftershocks of one of the most intense orgasms of your life.

“You’re just like you were in my dreams,” Johnny tells you, pulling his fingers from your core to suck on. He lets out a groan at your taste. “Sweeter than honey.”

You shouldn’t be in love with Johnny only after three dates, but with lines like this one, you know you most definitely are. In the after haze or your orgasm, you can’t even find it within yourself to care that he has you wrapped around his finger.

“Johnny,” you whisper his name, opening your eyes to look at the man who’s now standing by the edge of the mattress. “Need you now.”

“Let me just grab condoms,” he tells you, heading for the bedside table while tugging his shirt off.

Your pussy throbs just at the sight of him. He’s so big and built and bear-like, in the best possible way-

He undoes his pants, pulling out a condom package that he opens with his sharp teeth. Part of you thinks you should be getting naked too, especially when his briefs come down to join the pants on the floor, but as you watch him roll the rubber onto his large cock, you think maybe he’d enjoy it if the dress stays on… for just a little longer.

When Johnny turns to join you on the bed, you pat the space next to you. He quirks a brow, but follows through, falling flat onto his back. You take the opportunity to mount him, knees digging into the mattress on either side of his hips while you adjust your skirts, letting them fall over you both delicately.

“You can take this off of me in a minute,” you tell him, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, “but you’ve always told me how much you like my dresses, so I thought-”

“You look amazing,” Johnny confirms, grabbing at your hips and urging you to grind down against his cock, which is caught between your bodies. “My cute princess.”

“My big bear,” you smile, lips moving to his neck while you continue to swivel your hips.

Johnny lets out a groan of appreciation and you kiss him again, tasting yourself on his tongue. You reach under your dress, wrapping your fingers around his cock and squeezing, which earns another moan from the man who makes such perfect sounds.

“How am I going to fit this inside of me?” you ask.

“You can go slow,” he assures you, already panting from your hand alone.

You pull away from his lips, sitting up straight and lifting yourself so you can adjust him beneath you. As you begin to lower yourself on his cock, you find yourself moaning desperately from just the head and the way it stretches you out so well.

You’ve taken some well endowed men before, and the tactic that always worked was small bounces, allowing your pussy to get used to the intrusion as you slowly work your way to fullness. However, Johnny’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever had.

“Relax,” he tells you, rubbing circles on your hips through your dress. “Take your time, princess.”

But you don’t want to take your time, you want him inside of you, completely. You want to feel him everywhere, and soon, you’re fully sinking down on his cock, eagerly bending over to press your lips to his again while you both moan at the feeling.

You begin to ride him, thighs straining with the effort, but the reward is worth the muscle ache, and you get lost in the feeling of his cock splitting you open. Johnny begins to meet your thrusts, abdominal muscles flexing with effort while his tongue invades your mouth and he eats up your sweet sounds.

“As much-” Johnny breaks your kiss, gasping. “As much as I like your dress, I want to see you.”

You straighten again, easily pulling the fabric from your body so all that’s left is your bra. You begin to reach behind yourself to undo the clasp, but Johnny beats you to it, sitting up and easily removing the last piece of clothing keeping you from him.

“Shit,” Johnny groans, cupping one of your breasts with his large hand while his lips find your other nipple. His teeth graze the sensitive bud and you cry out, tangling your fingers in his hair while your pussy clenches around his cock.

Johnny moans beneath you, pulling his mouth from your breasts. He looks up at you with a wildly desperate expression. “Can I take over?” he asks, breathless. “I don’t think I can hold back anymore.”

“Please.” No sooner is the word out of your mouth than his hand is securing around the small of your back and he’s rolling you both, pressing you down against the mattress as his large body dwarfs your own.

“If it’s too much, let me know,” Johnny tells you, swallowing thickly while gazing down at your form. “I can be rough sometimes, even if I don’t mean to be.”

“I’m sure I’ll be okay,” you smile, cupping his face. “I’ve never actually said this before but… Big Bear, break my back like a glowstick.”

Johnny laughs. “You got it, Bee.”

His lips find your neck, and you close your eyes, grabbing at his strong shoulders as his hips begin to move.

Now that he’s on top, he’s somehow fucking you even deeper than before, and each glide of his cock against your inner walls has your toes curling in pleasure.

He sucks on your sweet spot, making you gasp as his movements get rougher and rougher, the bed beginning to rock from the force of his thrusts.

“John,” you whimper, body alight from the feeling of him, “Don’t stop-”

He only grins, fucking you harder, one hand lifting your leg higher on his hip so his cock can hit a spot deep inside of you that has you gasping-

“Oh my god-”

“Close already, Bee?” Johnny chuckles.

“You just feel so good,” you tell him.

You’ve never experienced anything like this, and you’re not sure if it’s due to his big cock, his ability to use it, or the fact that you actually sort of love the guy you’re literally making love to.

“That makes two of us,” Johnny says, kissing you again and taking your breath away.

You try to focus on his lips, to slow the orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, but it’s hard to distract from the cock that's splitting you open like nothing ever has before.

“Shit,” your bear hybrid breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against the crook of your neck, “If you keep making sounds like that, I’m not going to last long-”

“Me neither,” you confess, although he already knew that. “John… you’ll cum with me, right?”

“How could I ever say no to you?” he groans, fingers flexing against your hips. “You’re already so tight, if you cum, I don’t think I’ll be able to help myself.”

You moan at his words, stroking your fingers across his strong back. “Please, I’m so close-”

The bear hybrid practically growls, and the sound goes straight to your core, making you throb around his cock.

“You feel so good, I’m going insane-” you continue your praise, as every time you speak, he somehow fucks you harder. You’re not quite sure where he’s getting his stamina from, but you’ll never be one to complain about it.

Johnny lets go of your hip, and then he’s pushing his hand between your bodies, fingers finding your clit.

A strangled moan escapes you at the contact, your eyes clenching shut as your body is suddenly teetering on the edge-

“Cum for me, Bee,” he pants against your throat, “I can’t hold it any longer.”

Your entire body tenses as pleasure erupts through you, muscles screaming at how good everything feels. Gasping sounds slip past your lips, and you hold onto Johnny’s shoulders tightly, mind completely blank as the most intense orgasm of your life overtakes you.

The bear hybrid lets out groans of his own, hips twitching as he fills the condom, fucking you through all the pleasure. When he kisses you, you’re already breathless, and his lips don’t help the situation. You’re completely overwhelmed by Johnny, and you’ve never loved anything more.

As you come down from your highs, his thrusts slow, and he stills on top of you, cock buried deep in your pussy while you both catch your breaths.

“Wow,” Johnny says, laughing a little to himself as his kisses move to your neck again. “That was even better than my dreams.”

“You’ve been dreaming about me a lot, haven’t you, Big Bear?” you grin, tracing nothings on his shoulders.

“More than I care to admit.” He swallows thickly. “And something tells me the dreams will only continue.”

“They better,” you smile up at him when he pulls away from your throat.

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

With one last kiss to your lips, Johnny rolls off of you and stands up. You can’t help but watch him as he heads to the ensuite bathroom. His body is the most perfect thing you’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing and experiencing.

You take a few breaths while you wait for him to come back, trying to ground yourself.

After the bathroom, Johnny heads into his walk-in closet, coming out a moment later in a pair of black briefs. “I got you a shirt,” he says, holding it out for you. “As much as I love that dress, I think this might be more comfortable for you.”

“Thanks, Big Bear,” you grin, taking it and putting it on. The fabric swallows you up, and you smile at how good it feels to be wearing his clothes.

“I was thinking…” he sits on the bed next to you, hand smoothing up your thigh, “I’m pretty hungry after that workout. Can I make us something to eat?”

“I’d love that,” you say, sitting up.

“Good,” he takes your hand and pulls you to your feet before finding your panties on the floor. “Here, you might want these too.”

You laugh, accepting the underwear and bending over to slip them on.

“So what’s on the menu, chef?” you ask, following him out of the bedroom.

“Well, I know it’s not much, but I was thinking avocado toast.”

“Sounds perfect,” you grin, padding down the stairs after him to the main floor.

In the kitchen, you take a seat at the large island table, watching him as he heads to the fridge and pulls out a few ingredients.

You’re once again struck by how wonderful the silences can be with John. There’s no pressure to fill them with words, and you can simply relax while you watch your Big Bear hybrid work.

His muscles are particularly enthralling as he pulls out a knife and opens the avocado, setting half of it down before he begins to peel off the skin.

“Look at you go,” you smile, “opening that bad boy like a pro.”

Johnny flashes you a look and then lets out a laugh. “I used to absolutely brutalize avocados,” he confesses. “Yuta’s dad owns a sushi restaurant in Japan, so he knows how to do all this cooking stuff. The first time he saw me open one of these he nearly had an aneurysm.”

“Was it that bad?”

“I used to leave the peel on, slice it up, and then try to scoop it out with a spoon,” Johnny grins at the memory. “So yeah, pretty bad.”

You’d never have guessed Johnny would have had such humble beginnings with knife wielding, but you suppose everyone starts somewhere.

You enjoy watching his hands while he works, laying the peeled avocado flat while he slices it in perfect chunks. He’d put bread in the oven at the start, and as he finishes up with the avocado, he pulls the pan of toast out, the colour a nice golden brown.

“Do you make this sort of thing often?” you ask.

“Often enough,” Johnny nods. “Winnie likes her avocados almost as much as her honey.” He places the green slices on the bread, using a fork to press them down before he grabs salt and pepper.

“Can’t wait to try it,” you grin.

“There’s just one last ingredient though,” Johnny tells you, finding a jar of honey sitting on the counter. You watch as he drizzles the golden liquid on top of the avocado, and you can’t help but find the bear hybrid incredibly charming. “There we go,” he smiles, putting all the pieces onto a plate before coming around the table to join you on the bar stools.

“Cheers,” you say, holding up one slice for Johnny to gently touch with his own.

“To the bears, the bees, and the honey that connects them,” he muses.

“To us,” you agree, picking up on the metaphor.

You know that there’s technically nothing special about avocado toast, but it’s still one of the best things you’ve eaten in ages, and you find yourself groaning after the first bite.

“Is it really that good?” Johnny laughs, watching your expressions with a smile.

“Better than good,” you confirm. “If running a club doesn’t work out, you could always be a chef.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Johnny nods with a smile. “You haven’t even tried my barbecue yet.”

“Something tells me you know how to handle your meat.”

The bear laughs at your comment, and you realize too late the sexual connotation of your words.

“I didn’t mean-” you go to correct yourself, but you end up face palming instead, letting out a groan.

“You’re too cute,” Johnny assures you, resting a hand on your knee. “Hey, listen, if you want me to drive you home, I can, but… how would you feel about staying the night?”

“Really?” you blink at him.

He nods. “Really.”

“I think I’d love that,” you admit.

“Perfect, then it’s settled. Mi casa es su casa.”

You smile at the notion of his house being your house. “Since when did you speak Spanish?”

“There’s still a lot you don’t know about me.” His thumb rubs circles on your thigh.

“Well,” you reach down to cover his hand with your own, “I can’t wait to find out more.”

Johnny had closed the blinds last night, so when you wake up in a literal man cave, you kind of want to see the sun. However, Johnny looks so peaceful lying next to you, his plump lips just slightly parted, his fluffy ears twitching from whatever is happening in his dream land- and you think it would be a shame to wake him so abruptly to the light.

You take the time to appreciate him, wondering how you ever got so lucky to end up where you are now. You’d always had a crush on him, but you’d never expected it to be anything more.

You’re so happy that he’d felt the same way you had. If he’d never made a move and asked you out, well- you don’t want to think about that.

When you shift ever so slightly, Johnny’s eyes open, and he squints at you, letting out a groan. “Are you okay?” he asks, voice gruff from sleep.

“I’m perfect,” you tell him. “Are you waking up now?”

“It’s too early,” Johnny grunts, pulling you closer and burrowing his face in your neck.

“I guess I’m used to waking up at this time,” you note.

“Do you have to go? Is there work?”

“I’m thinking of calling in sick, that is… if you want me to spend the day with you.”

“Fuck, yes please.” His breath is hot against your throat.

“I’m just going to step out to make the call, and when I come back, do you mind if I open these blinds? I know this is your bear cave and all, but if you’re going to sleep a little longer, I’d love some light to read a book or something.”

Johnny only groans, but you take it as an affirmative as you untangle yourself from his grasp.

Five minutes later, the room is lit with sunshine and you’re slipping into bed next to him again. Your family has always been extra close with the owner of Queen B’s Honey, so calling in had been simple, and you’re excited about what your day with Johnny will bring.

You’ve found a book to read, some fiction off Johnny’s bookshelf, and when you get under the covers, Johnny is quick to cuddle up next to you again. “Can I put my head in your lap?” he asks, voice as groggy as ever.

“Of course, Big Bear,” you smile, adjusting to allow him to curl up next to you. He lets out a deep breath once he’s settled, and you smooth your hands through his hair, gently scratching at the base of his ear.

Johnny lets out a deep groan. “Feels good.”

He falls asleep just seconds later, and you continue stroking him while you read.

Time flies by, and you’re not sure how long you’ve been reading when Johnny finally wakes up again. He lets out a soft groan, cuddling closer to your side. “Good morning.”

“Hi, sleepy bear.”

“I had dreams about you,” he says softly.

“You did?”

“Uh huh,” his hand strokes by your thigh.

“What happened in your dream?” you press, gently scratching his fluffy ear.

Johnny lets out a laugh. “Maybe I shouldn’t talk about it.”

“Was it something bad?”

“Something good,” he confirms. “It involved a few cubs running around.”

Your heart thumps wildly in your chest. “Wow, John, I didn’t know you were really thinking that far ahead in the future for us.”

“I can’t help it,” he confesses, rolling onto his back to look up at you. “I know we’ve only had a few dates, but… well, I’ve been into you for months. It’s at a point where I don’t even really look at other girls, and I’m fine if you don’t want to be exclusive or anything-”

“Who said I don’t want to be exclusive?”

A lazy smile covers Johnny’s face, and he sits up, cupping your cheek in his warm hand. “You really want to give this a try?”

“I’d be stupid not to, don’t you think?”

“I mean… I’ve met girls who will only see me as a hybrid, as someone to mess around with for a little while before finding a human partner again. I wouldn’t blame you if you couldn’t see a future for us.”

“Oh, John,” you shake your head, “I’m not like those other girls.”

“I guess not,” he leans in, pressing his lips to yours.

You feel so blessed to be able to give this a shot with Johnny, a real shot. It’s all you’ve ever wanted, and as he pulls you into his arms, you have a feeling that everything is going to work out better than either of you could possibly imagine.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! If you've made it to the end and want something else to read, check out Hyuck's hybrid fic here, or more of Nikki's work on her masterlist here

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🔮 preview. “Give me a sec and I’ll pull off to a residential street,” he tells you, flicking his turn signal on. “It will take a minute or two longer to get home, but something tells me you won’t mind.” He’s literally the perfect man, and you’re working to get his zipper undone the moment you’re off the main road. Johnny lifts his hips, helping you tug his jeans down just enough to get at your prize.

cw/ tw. Exhibitionism, blowing Johnny while he drives, hand job, sex outside in the forest on a car, car sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, praise, quickie, etc… I pet names: (hers) Bee, Princess. (his) Big Bear, John.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2k I teaser wc. 350

🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!reader

bonus

Going to a baseball game is one of your favourite family outings. Between you, Johnny, his sister, and his sister’s husband, the four adults can handle the four cubs that run around you like excitable little rascals at all times.

Hotdogs and popcorn are cheap, and Winnie, as the oldest of the group of kids, spends the whole game explaining what’s happening to your sons, who are much too young to care about baseball.

You and Johnny sit on either side of Winnie, each holding a wiggling three year old twin in your arms. Winnie’s mom and her dad are in the row just in front of you, their own two year old in their grasp.

“So now,” the nearly ten year old Winnie explains to the toddler in your arms, “the bases are fully loaded, and the game is almost over, so the guy with the big bum has to make this hit-”

Johnny murmurs the name of the player up to bat, but Winnie ignores him. She has names for each man on the pitch, and it just so happens that the man swinging has the biggest butt.

The crack of the ball against the bat alights the stadium in cheers as everyone at their bases begin to run, and Johnny stands, holding his toddler while he watches. His baseball cap is backward, but it’s still clear by the jersey he’s wearing that he’s a home pitch superfan. “Go, go, go!” he screams. “Run, butt guy, run!”

You love him, and your perfect family.

You stand too, as this last run of the game is important to your evening plans. If your home team wins, Johnny’s sister will take your twins for the night and give you and Johnny some alone time. However, if her away team wins, you and Johnny are on babysitting duty.

“Go, butt guy! Go!” Winnie cheers, and you find it almost comical how the little girl has no clue that she’s helping cheer on the odds of her sweet Uncle John getting laid.

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deerspherestudios · 2 months

Note

Hellow!~ I just want to mention something a lil detail that I love about Myachel (not only the VN and the story cuz aa just drive me crazy <3 ) but is his Nose! I Love that he has no ''aesthetically pleasing'' looking one, he has an Upturned nose wich sadly in the world of fashion is not considered 'pleasing' but he is Breaking it ! Myachel is so handsome and without following any beauty standard wich makes him feel more real (in a way) <3 Sure sure he is a type of Myconid and stuff but like his design is still humaine. Im happy to see artists giving more variety to small but iconic details such as the nose and hope these would inspire others to try it and not being scared of drawing them :DD (im just tired of seeing the anime dot noses or plain Nothing ^^; ) Ok and for the question: I bet Myachel has seen other places of the world in books from the library, Does he wishes to visit one or more of them? like Beach, Mountain, Desert, Or maybe a city?

Aw this is so wholesome 😭😭❤️! Sometimes I do feel like his sprites aren't the most conventionally attractive when it comes to visual novel love interests, but I wanted to keep them authentic in that; not everyone is gonna find him attractive! And that's okay!

In fact I find it super interesting when people talk about others not liking his design, it really serves the whole 'ugly monster' narrative some merit haha! So thank you for sharing your thoughts on his little nose, I'm sure he'd be happy to let you boop it.

As for locations he'd love to visit, he's actually been to a few places! Beaches, mountains, maybe not the desert though, but he's definitely been to cities! He'd love to visit a fun fair though but the crowds and loud attractions/rides make him nervous. 💔

#mushroom oasis vn #mychael ask #fanart #tysm thats such high praise for something as simple as his nose waaa #jar of fireflies

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n6ptunova · 6 months

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i loved your chris bf hcs! could you please do one for matt? thank you and i hope you’re having a good day :)

boyfriend headcanons • matt sturniolo

a/n: thank you so much ily!! hope you enjoy thiss🫶

warnings: none

- you can’t convince me that matt wouldn’t be the type of bf who accidentally ignores you in public/groups of friends. he doesn’t mean to but he’s so awkward and doesn’t like pda much so when he tries to avoid it he avoids you altogether. it used to hurt your feelings but after talking to him he reassured you that he’s just a dumbass.

- he makes up for being distant in public when you guys are alone tho. he lovesss having you in his arms hugging his slutty waist, while he strokes your hair and kisses your head/cheeks occasionally. he’s def the big spoon most of the time.

- his love language is physical touch and acts of service, so he’ll often want to drive you to run errands together (grocery shopping, ikea visits, etc.) it makes him feel like you’re a married couple which kind of sums up your relationship with him.

- he’s also the designated bug killer, bob the builder ass bf. you got new furniture that needs to be built? he’s doing it no question. you broke something and need it fixed? he’s on it. he almost babies you honestly and he loves it but when you take it too far and act too spoiled he’ll be like alright wrap it up.

- he’s kind of moody sometimes for no reason like you’ll be making jokes or annoying him for fun and he’s just “not having it” when in reality he can’t get enough of your attention, he’ll pretend to be annoyed and keep rolling his eyes but he can’t wipe the goofy ass smile off his face.

- BABY FEVER!! every time he seems a cute baby out in public or on tiktok he turns into the biggest softy, “babe look oh my goddd they’re so cute i want one.” *hears the baby laughing* “nvm i want ten.”

- perks of dating someone with a car (ns to chris and nick! full shade actually) is you get to go on a lot of late night cruises with the top down, blasting your fav music, him using his free hand to switch between holding yours and placing it on your thigh. plus you get some privacy to….be risky! if ykwim

- matt loves when you take an interest in something he loves eg. pokemon, certain artists he listens to, cabin life, etc. he gets so excited and giddy and he’ll want to tell you everything he knows about these things. and he does the same for you but he gets embarrassed and defensive if you point it out so you just silently appreciate it.

- ^ you once caught him reading one of your favorite books simply because he wanted to talk to you about it and seeing you get all excited and passionate while talking about it.

- he’s definitely a soft launch type of guy. always posting pics where you just barely show. the back of your head, or your nails in the corner of the pic, your shoes etc. i can’t imagine him fully posting up with his gf on instagram or tiktok but maybe if it’s been a few years he’d do it for anniversaries and it’ll be like aesthetic ass pinterest vibes photos.

- matt would always be taking candid photos/videos of you and saves them in an album that’s full of just you. 90% of his screen time is his camera roll just bc he’s always looking and admiring the pics he took of you, he’s obsessed fr.

- after a while i feel like matt would start to show his silly/goofy side a lot more with you. he would so be the type to chase you around trying to tickle you- he just loves hearing your laugh. it usually ends with him pinning you down with one hand and tickling you with the other until you’re almost out of breath then he’ll stop and kiss you to make up for it.

- he’ll be more talkative with you than with his brothers sometimes since you don’t interrupt. he’s always rambling about whatever’s on his mind and apologies after like pookie you’re good talk more!!

- he’s a bit indecisive in general like where to eat, date ideas and stuff but he tries because he knows you like when he’s ‘assertive’. idk how to explain this but he acts like the stereotypical “man provides” but in a non toxic/non misogynistic way.

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo headcanons #n6ptunova

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ro-is-struggling · 9 days

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Dark Side of Me || Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: The plan you and your friends had come up with to celebrate your 21st birthday was simple: go to as many bars as you could in one night and stay out of the hospital. You weren't a big fan of it, but everyone had done it and now it was your turn. However, things went off the rails quickly and you ended up being dragged to Heroes, a superhero-themed strip club. You thought it was a bad idea, until you met the cold, piercing blue eyes of the Winter Soldier and simply couldn't look away.

Or the one when reader gets her first lap dance

Warnings: stripper AU, stripper!bucky x innocent!reader, suggestive tones, lap dance (I tried really hard), no actual smut, alcohol consumption, reader giving in to peer pressure, fem reader

English is not my first language

Word count: 4400

Notes: I watched magic mike the other day and apparently I am now obsessed with stripper aus. The movies have a softer side that I wasn't expecting but I loved it and that's the vibe I'm trying to recreate here. If you want to understand some of the dance moves I'm trying to describe here you should watch the movie! I tried really hard with this one (describing dancing is waay harder than I thought so I hope it makes sense)

I’m open to writing more of these two, so let me know if you’d like that and don't hesitate to stop by my asks/messages if you have any ideas!

tagging: @asgards-princess-of-mischief

What had started out as a night of celebrating your 21st birthday quickly went off the rails and turned into something completely different. The plan was to get wasted —legally this time—, visit a couple of bars and get home before you ended up in the hospital. You weren't usually a party and alcohol lover —you just went to have a good time with your friends—, but you recognized that your 21st birthday was an important event that deserved to be celebrated. Besides, your friends had assured you that they would behave themselves and that things would not get out of control -well, not that much at least.

In hindsight, you should have figured that wouldn't happen. Although nothing could have prepared you for ending up at Heroes, a strip club your friends had apparently been to before. You tried to say no at first, but you were a little buzzed and you'd never been good at saying no to your friends anyway, so eventually you agreed. The place was exactly what you imagined and completely different at the same time, if that made sense. Dark, loud and warm, but much nicer than you expected. The dim lights gave it a very intimate feel, highlighting certain spaces with red or purple lights that made it look aesthetically pleasing to the eye. The music played loudly, trying to drown out some of the shouting of the women throwing bills onto the catwalk where the dancers performed their routines, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle.

From the moment you settled at your table, a sort of strange sisterhood was generated between you and the groups of women seated in your proximity. Similar to bumping into a stranger in the bathroom at a party and reacting as if you were lifelong friends, you quickly engaged in casual conversation with the group of women at a bachelorette party to your right, and the one celebrating a divorce to your left. You complimented each other's outfits, shared a few drinks, and screamed with all your might in unison every time a dancer approached your side of the stage —or made quick eye contact with one of you. It created such a pleasant and fun atmosphere that for a moment you almost forgot where you were.

It stopped being nice and fun though when your friend came up with the idea of paying for a private dance and you had to face the force of a group of women pressuring you to accept. You had made the silly mistake of letting one of your friends know that you really thought the dancer who called himself the Winter Soldier was cute. You hadn't been able to take your eyes off him during his routine. And since that was the most interested you had ever been in any of the dancers, your friend thought it would be a good idea to treat you to a private dance.

“What am I supposed to do locked in a room with him?” You panicked as your friends dragged you to a more private area of the club to wait for your gift.

“I don't know, enjoy, I guess?” She laughed, practically pushing you into the arms of the man waiting to lead you to the Winter Soldier. You wanted to snap at her, but you kept silent, embarrassed by the stranger's presence. The last thing you needed was to make an even bigger fool of yourself by looking like an innocent, prudish fool.

But the problem was just that. You were a silly, innocent, prudish young woman that didn't have the slightest idea of what to do in a situation like that. You could feel the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out the screaming and the bass of the music that was getting farther and farther away. Your stomach was turning with nerves as you sat waiting in the chair in the center of the room, just as the man had indicated before disappearing behind the door. Your hands rested awkwardly in your lap, your body immobile as you contemplated your options —perhaps if you remained completely still, he wouldn't be able to see you there, it was dark after all.

You thought about running away from there. You were alone, the dancer had not yet appeared and the hallway was dark, you would probably be able to sneak out without even your friends noticing. You would send them a text later explaining everything, when you were out and away from their clutches so they couldn't drag you there again. But when you went to get up, you found that your legs didn't respond. Only this time it didn't feel like it was part of the nerves you were having at the thought of what was about to happen.

You discovered then that a part of you, hidden behind a lot of shame and fear of the unknown, was curious. You wondered what it would feel like to be in a room alone with him, what it would feel like to have him touch you —even in the lightest, most subtle way—, to have him press his body against yours as he had done on stage with a lucky girl in the audience. You'd never experienced anything remotely similar to that, you'd barely shared make-out sessions with your ex-partner that weren't particularly memorable-not in the way the Winter Soldier's dance was for you. You had the movement of his hips burned into your memory, the image of his flexing muscles popping up every time you closed your eyes. You wanted more of him, even if you couldn't bring yourself to admit it.

The sensual rhythm of the music that suddenly began to play brought you out of your thoughts. You looked up and there he was in all his glory. He was wearing a different outfit, a simple tank top and loose-fitting sweatpants. The tactical suit and mask that covered half his face in his routine had probably been left forgotten in some basket behind the stage, but you didn't mind. You could see more of him now, the real him, and you liked that. It felt more intimate, more genuine.

He could sense the nervousness in your voice when you told him your name. You had trouble maintaining eye contact with him, your eyes lingering for a full three seconds on his figure before returning to your hands. Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your flowy dress. It intrigued him. He had worked with flustered women before —it was more common than one might imagine—, but there was something about you that stood out. You looked so out of place there, with your innocent look and shaky breath. Everything about your body expression told him that you wanted to curl up in a ball and pretend you weren't there. Everything except a slight glint in your eyes that he almost missed as quickly as you looked away from him. It would be his challenge to get that side of you to come out.

“That's a beautiful name,” he said in a soft voice. You smiled, but your eyes didn't search his, focusing instead on the red light shining on the wall behind him. So he leaned in front of you, settling down to your eye level so you couldn't escape. “I'm Bucky, by the way, and there's no reason to be nervous around me, princess.”

Your face warmed at that affectionate nickname and a tingle spread through your body. It had been a while since the last time someone had called you that. You liked it, it made you feel special even if it came from a stranger's mouth.

“Why did you come here tonight? You don't seem like the type of woman that frequents these places.”

“I'm not! I'm here because my friends thought it'd be a good idea... a fun way of celebrating my 21st birthday.”

“Oh well happy birthday then!” Bucky gave you a smile and you thought that was the best present you had received all day. “Are you having a good time?

“Yea-yeah, I am.” Your voice was soft, almost inaudible. Bucky got the impression that you were embarrassed to admit that out loud.

“Are you uncomfortable, y/n? Do you want to leave? Cause I can give you a full refund and let you go right now if that's what you want.”

“No!” you were quick to say, big eyes staring at him for the first time since he had introduced himself to you. “I'm just a bit... scared, I guess. I've never done anything like this before. Actually, I've never done anything for that matter.”

You didn't know what prompted you to confess to Bucky —a complete stranger who danced and stripped for a living— your complete inexperience in sexual matters, but you couldn't turn back now. You supposed it was to be transparent, though there was no reason for such a thing. It wasn't like you were there to have sex, he was just going to dance on you for a bit and then you'd go back to your normal, boring life.

“Well, then I have to let you know that you are in full control here.” Bucky spoke in a soft tone full of understanding. His cold, piercing blue eyes softened, showing a warmth that helped calm your nerves a bit. “I do have a routine, but if there's something that I do that you don't like you can just tell me and I'll stop, okay?” You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the tingle of anticipation running through your body. “Good! Are you ready?”

At your nod, Bucky got up from the floor to press play on the music. Suddenly, the silence was filled by a soft, sensual beat similar to others that had echoed through the club throughout the night. He approached you with a slow pace, his eyes never leaving your face, studying your expression. Then he took one of your hands in his and rested it on his chest, still covered by the thin fabric of his white muscle shirt. You couldn't help but notice how much bigger his hands were compared to yours. You could barely see your fingertips as he wrapped his hand around yours, trapping it against his chest. His calloused fingers didn't let go as he slowly guided your hand down, allowing you to caress his chest as he rubbed small circles over your skin. It was such an intimate touch for the situation you were in, that for a moment you forgot he was a stripper who did this for a living.

The air caught in your throat, your heart pounding against your chest as your hand traveled lower and lower. You could feel the firmness of his abs under your fingers and the heat emanating from his skin. It filled you with anticipation, with need. You wanted to feel more of him, more of his body and his touch. More of his warmth and the intoxicating scent of his cologne. But before your hand reached his waist, he pulled it away. Your eyes shot up to his face, waiting patiently for Bucky to give you instructions to proceed.

He removed his shirt and as soon as the fabric touched the floor, his hands were on yours again, trapping them against his chest. Bucky liked the way you let him guide you, closing your eyes as you enjoyed something as simple as the feel of his skin under your fingers. He was used to dealing with more... confident women. They knew what they wanted and weren't afraid to demand it. Their hands were always everywhere, touching his crotch without hesitation every chance they got. But you were different. You didn't know what you wanted —what you were missing— and you were willing to let him show you. He enjoyed the slower pace, it was a nice change that allowed him to try new things. So in a way, you were both experiencing something different there.

Your eyes suddenly widened as you felt the fabric of Bucky's sweatpants brush against your fingers. Your face heated up, embarrassment taking over your expression. But he didn't let your hand slip away, on the contrary, he pushed it a few inches lower and made you cling to the elastic of the pants. He gave you a cheeky smile before he started moving to the rhythm of the music. His hand didn't let go of yours as he positioned himself in your lap, grinding his hips against yours with an experience that shouldn't have surprised you.

Bucky fixed his eyes on you as he danced, keeping you in a kind of hypnotic trance from which you could not wake up. Your eyes followed his, your body responding to his movements without a single complaint. He trapped you between the chair and his body, one of his hands clinging firmly to the back of the chair while the other traveled to your cheek. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the warm caress of his fingers. His face came so close to yours that you could feel his breath mingling against your quickened breathing, his nose brushing against yours. For a moment you thought he was going to kiss you, so you closed your eyes, letting the euphoric sensation of desire consume you.

But suddenly, Bucky rose from your lap. You couldn't contain the whimper that escaped your lips, a protest at his devastating absence. Although he wasn't completely gone, you could feel him at your back, his hands caressing your neck, his nose inhaling the scent of your hair. The ghost of his lips traveling from the sweet spot behind your ear to your collarbone, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He wasn't even kissing you and you were already experiencing things you had never felt before in your years of relationship.

With a graceful and sensual move, Bucky is once again on your lap, trapping you against the chair. He wasn't putting his full weight on you, but enough for you to feel it as he moved his hips. Your eyes traveled south, curious about the bulge that the sweat pants still hid. You'd never seen one before — well, outside of biology and health classes— and you'd never felt the urge to do so. But the way Bucky was moving on you made you wonder about things. You heard him let out a chuckle and looked away in embarrassment, knowing you'd been caught.

“You can look,” Bucky whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “That's what I'm here for, doll.” He stroked your arms, his fingers traveling slowly from your shoulders to your wrists. Then he took your hands and placed them back on his bare chest. “You can touch too, I don't mind.”

The desire traveling through your veins made you feel more confident this time, so you didn't need Bucky to guide your hands down his body. They acted at their own accord, fingers slowly tracing the defined muscles of his pecs and abs. You weren't yet comfortable going below his hips, so once you reached the edge of his pants you changed course to his back. Down, up and back down, your nails drew light red marks on his skin as he moved in your lap. You didn't even realize what you were doing, you just knew you liked hearing the sounds that escaped Bucky's lips when you accidentally applied too much pressure.

The lowest your trembling hands dared to go were his thighs. Bucky could see in your eyes the desire to go further —to brush your fingers over his bulge or squeeze his ass—, but shame and fear stopped you. You were trying so hard to keep your composure, to behave like a lady, but you couldn't fool Bucky. He knew what you wanted, even when you weren't ready to admit it. He saw it in the way your eyes darkened with each passing second and in the way your breathing became more and more erratic. The innocent, good girl shell you had when you entered the room was cracking, allowing your dark desires to come out. Bucky probably shouldn't find that so exciting, but he did. He couldn't help it, watching the innocence slowly leave your eyes, knowing that he was the one corrupting you, was a sight to behold.

Your lips curled into a pout of protest as Bucky rose from your lap, already missing the heat of his body pressed against yours. It was only for a moment, but to you it felt like an eternity. And he was counting on it, playing with the anticipation as he made a show of taking off his pants. This time your eyes lingered on his tight boxers for longer, though he could still see a flash of embarrassment as you crossed glances with him. It was driving him crazy, in the best possible way. He wanted to remove that innocence from your expression, to corrupt you past the point of no return. It was his personal goal, the challenge he had quietly accepted the moment he discovered what you were. And he was willing to win it.

Bucky dropped to his knees in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours as his fingers traced your legs. Your chest rose and fell with your quickening breath, your whole body buzzing with anticipation as you felt the gentle caresses moving from your ankles to your knees. To your surprise, his fingers continued their path up your thighs, though they stopped just below the hem of your dress. You resisted the urge to tangle your fingers in his hair as you felt him spread your legs slightly apart —enough for him to fit between them, but not enough to leave you too exposed to his eyes. And then the caresses over your body returned, only this time it was the ghost of Bucky's lips that sent shivers across your skin.

His mouth wasn't actually touching your thighs, but he was so damn close that you could almost feel his lips caressing the soft, sensitive skin on the inside of your leg. A warm tingling spread inside you as he moved further up, getting dangerously close to your trembling center. And at that moment you felt no shame or fear —like you had felt on other occasions with past partners. On the contrary, you wanted more, your legs involuntarily spreading wider to give Bucky more room as the ghost of his lips traveled up your lower tummy and across your abdomen until they reached your breasts. And as your breathy moans became more and more audible, your mind was lost in dark thoughts, wondering how different it would all feel if there was no barrier of clothing separating your bodies or how his wet kisses would feel on the sensitive skin of your thighs.

You didn't have much time to get lost in the fantasy though because in a second Bucky was on his feet again, pressing you against the back of the chair as he pushed your legs up. He settled down on the edge of the chair, resting each of your legs on his thighs. His hands gripped the back of the chair once again, trapping you completely between the cushions and his body —or rather, his crotch. You were practically sitting on his lap as you shared the chair, and you could feel his cock pressing against your center with every thrust of his hips. He was hard and you didn't know how common that was, but you decided to believe it wasn't something that happened often. You liked to imagine that his body was reacting to you and not to the sexual nature of his work. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

Bucky's hips moved to the sensual rhythm of the music, thrusting against your center in a way that made you feel like you were losing your virginity at that very moment. It was too much, the fire inside you spreading with the speed of a forest fire. And at the same time, it wasn't enough. Bucky's hip movements, though intense, did little to put out the flames they had started. They were pulling you into a swirl of desire and need, bringing you closer and closer to your limit with no promise of real relief. It was frustrating, in a way, but also incredibly exciting.

Your eyes closed for a moment as you struggled to process the sensations that were taking over your body. You tried to focus on your breathing and the sound of the music, anything to keep yourself grounded. But every time you thought you had managed to gain control of your own body again, Bucky moved his hips and all you could feel was pleasure, all you could think about was him.

A moan escaped your lips. It was involuntary and you didn't even realize what you did until a few seconds later. You were ready to apologize, certain you had crossed some kind of line, but Bucky let out a grunt of approval. One of his hands traveled to the back of your neck, holding your head firmly as he pressed his forehead against yours. His fingers tugged on your hair lightly, but the pain didn't bother you. You were too focused on the shape of his lips to think about anything else. You needed to feel them against yours. You needed to know what it would feel like to be kissed by him. You needed Bucky to take everything from you, to show you everything you'd been missing in these years of loneliness.

“C-can you k-kiss me?” You didn't think before you spoke, you just expressed what your mind was thinking without any kind of filter. Your voice was barely a shy whisper, your lips almost brushing against Bucky's as you spoke.

He should have refused, the number one rule of his job was never to kiss the clients —you never knew what things you might end up catching. But when Bucky saw the desperation in your eyes he couldn't help himself. Your slightly parted lips were highly tempting. You were inviting him, giving him permission to ruin you. You needed it as much as he did, so he gave in, and damned the rules.

Bucky's lips felt soft against yours, though there was nothing soft about the way he kissed you. Just like his dancing, the kiss was intense and unlike anything you had ever experienced before. His lips moved expertly, knowing exactly what to do to turn you completely stupid. You let him guide you, merely reacting to the pleasure that only Bucky seemed capable of giving you.

His tongue caressed your lips and you moaned into his mouth, allowing him immediate access to further deepen the kiss. Your hands clung to him —one digging your nails into his bicep while the other rested on his leg—, desperate to find something to keep you grounded while Bucky showed you sensations you didn't know you were capable of feeling.

You were high on pleasure, trapped under his body, immobilized by his lips, enveloped in his warmth and the scent of his cologne. You didn't want to be separated from him anymore. You didn't want to leave that room. You felt as if Bucky's lips were what kept you breathing, as if you needed them to keep on living. You couldn't pull away. You didn't want to pull away. But unfortunately a knock on the door signaled that your time together was over.

“You're more than welcome to come back anytime.” Bucky winked at you before disappearing behind the door, leaving you alone in the room.

It took you a moment to collect your thoughts and calm your rapid breathing. Your heartbeat was still pounding in your ears, but you figured that would change when you had a chance to get some fresh air. Your legs almost gave out when you stood up, still weak in the knees after the spectacle you had witnessed. You felt a little silly having to take a moment to steady yourself. Bucky had gotten up and left without any trouble, and there you were, clinging to the back of the chair as you struggled to compose yourself so you could leave without your friends realizing the effect their dumb idea had really had on you. You were pathetic.

Gathering your last bit of strength you pushed past the screaming women until you found your friends. They were back at their table, enjoying the routine of a tall, muscular blond who, from what you had heard, called himself Captain America. He was cute, but you couldn't stay in that place a second longer.

“How was it?” one of your friends asked with a smile.

“I need to get some air.”

“That good, huh?” Said the other with a giggle. You rolled your eyes, grabbing both of them by the arm and pulling them up from their seats.

Amidst protests they agreed to leave with you and call it a night. As they made their way through the crowd they didn't miss the opportunity to flood you with questions, insisting that you give them details of what had happened and how it felt to have Bucky dance just for you. You refused to say anything, partly because you were embarrassed to admit the reality of what had happened, and partly because you still needed time to process the night.

However, as you were about to leave, one of the waiters who had served your table - a young man who had introduced himself as Spider-Man - grabbed your arm. At first you thought maybe you had forgotten something in your seats and he was being kind enough to catch you before you left. But when you turned to look at him you noticed he had nothing in his hands but a rose and a piece of paper.

“He sends you this.” The boy said, handing you the items and disappearing into the crowd.

He didn't have to tell you who they were from for you to know. A smile immediately graced your lips as you held the flower to your nose and inhaled. Then you turned your attention to the piece of paper and as you unfolded it you discovered that it was a note.

‘Happy birthday!

Call me ;)'

It read, and at the end was written a phone number that was undoubtedly Bucky's. Your smile widened, which finally attracted the attention of your friends. One of them took the paper from you before you could hide it and when you saw the expression on her face you knew you weren't going to escape the interrogation. It was going to be a long night.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem reader #bucky barnes smut #(not really but just in case)#stripper!bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader smut

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brain-rot-central · 4 months

Text

Hey Jealousy

Rating: M/borderline E? (for now) Pairing: Spawn!A/Fem!Tav Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: NON-CANON, 18+, degrading speech, somewhat dubcon for certain parts but not totally?, adult themes, mentions of past sexual relationship, alcohol mention, alcohol use, blood mention, possessiveness, jealously, stalking, dry humping, ANGST, some fluff, bitter petty nonsense overall tbh

Summary: Astarion and Tav split at the end of the game due to a huge miscommunication. She tries desperately to move on, Astarion not so much. He finally gets ahold of her, aaaaand some messy feelings come out.

A/N - 1/28/24: Reuploading this! Not much has changed; mostly pulled it for grammatical editing purposes. Hopefully the story flows a bit better now!

The tavern is bustling with the usual weekend crowd. Upbeat music fills the air of the small establishment as this evening’s band continues their set. Drinks cascade like waterfalls into the hands and mouths of the tavern's parched patrons, each desperate for a distraction to drive out the unsettling reality of their lives, albeit for a few hours.

Astarion is perched in a corner of the tavern, circling the tip of his finger around the edge of his wine goblet. The unpleasant flavor of piss and vinegar lingers on his tongue from the spirit, mouth salivating. He sucks his teeth instinctively, trying to rid himself of the taste.

Reaching into the pocket of his favored violet and gold doublet, he retrieves a small vial of crimson liquid. He pops off the stopper and deposits the contents into his cup, bringing the cylindrical glass to his mouth to lap up the small droplet that rolls down its side.

He hums in satisfaction as the sweet flavor spreads across his tongue, floral and lively, before returning the stopper back atop the vial. Using a single finger, he swirls the additive into his wine, bringing the goblet back to his lips for another sip.

Ah, much better.

Surveying the bar, Astarion catches the attention of a young elven woman. She's aesthetically pleasing on the eyes - blonde hair with tan skin. Were he here for another reason, he may have tried his luck with her.

Astarion nods politely. The woman then rises from her seat, walking toward him. “Shit,” he mutters to himself, adjusting his positioning. He hurriedly repockets the blood vial within his doublet and hangs his head low just as she takes the seat at his booth, opposite him.

“Well, you’re certainly different from the usual fare,” she says, confidently. “Not often we get you teu-tel-quessir folk in here.”

Astarion absently swirls his wine. She believes I'm a moon elf?

Assuming that she's a regular of this tavern, this woman may be somewhat oblivious. Were she not, she’d have realized this is his third visit this month alone.

Astarion decides to play into her little game - he’s compelled to see how long he can keep the charade going. “I’m but a weary traveler, just passing through,” he lies. It rolls off his tongue like the caress of an old friend. Creating a fictitious life for himself is something he’s had quite a bit of practice doing.

“Is that so? I, too, happen to be passing through here.” The woman places her elbows on the table and leans forward, giving Astarion better access to the cleavage threatening to spill over the top of her bodice. His eyes fall briefly to the woman’s chest, but he doesn’t look at her face. Not yet. “Got the room rented out upstairs for a couple more days,” she adds, tone hushed.

Sliding her hand toward his, she gently rubs her fingers over the ones he has encased around the neck of the wine goblet. Astarion shudders, not expecting such an intimate touch, and finally lifts his gaze to meet her own. “Care to make a few mistakes with me?” she asks.

Astarion snickers. He can tell part of her story is a facade, though he doesn’t care enough to discern which.

“My apologies, love, but I’ve made enough mistakes to last a lifetime,” he replies. Pulling his hand from her, he grabs his wine by the cup, bringing it again to his lips. “I’ll have to decline.”

The elven woman softly hums in disappointment, standing up from her seat at the booth. “Such a shame,” she says, “you really are something beautiful.” She raises a hand to her lips, kissing the pads of her fingertips before extending them out toward him. Gently blowing on her fingers, she says, “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Astarion raises his cup to her and she walks off, returning to her group of friends on the far side of the tavern. He groans a sigh of relief.

Wasting little time resuming his attention on the crowd surrounding him, another is quick to catch his eye. He's seen her before - long auburn hair flowing down her back with streaks of blonde scattered throughout. She wasn't dressed in her evening best, but even so, the blouse and slacks she wore left little to his imagination.

She's sitting at the bar in the middle of the tavern, a young tiefling gentleman holding her attention at present. He’s not her usual type, Astarion notes to himself, though he remains transfixed on their interaction.This is the second man he's seen this evening trying their hand at impressing the young human woman.

A smile forms on her lips as she converses with her current suitor. Astarion once again swirls his goblet of wine before bringing it back to his mouth for another taste.

He knows this woman, rather intimately, at that. He’s held her hair within his hands, traced the outline of her jaw with his fingertips. The smell of her skin is ever present in his mind. The saltiness of her sweat on his tongue as he lavishes her throat, the intoxicating roll of her hips against his as he bites down into the tender flesh of her neck… the rush of blood cascading down his throat.

He swallows thickly around the memory.

They've been together a handful of times throughout their travels to save the Realm from the threat of the Absolute, but that was neither here nor there, at this point.

The tiefling begins skirting his fingers along her forearm, and she leans into his touch. Astarion seethes from his place in the booth, a rush of warmth flooding his core and quickly spreading outward to each of his limbs. It’s been months since they decided on this new agreement, though his reaction is just as strong whenever another encroaches on her.

Astarion looks on as the red-head gently pats her companion’s arm before standing from her seat. His eyes follow her toward the back of the tavern. After downing the rest of his drink in one quick swing, he’s following her, careful to keep just enough distance not to rouse suspicion.

The music from the band thumps loudly in his chest as he draws closer to the crowd of people gathered before the stage. Lucky for him, they’re so entranced by the show that they hardly notice his mindless weaving, trying not to lose sight of his target. Astarion stops for a moment to refocus, looking around. It doesn’t take him long at all to zero in a glimpse of those fiery locks disappearing down a hallway off to the side.

His feet bring him to the start of the long corridor and he peers cautiously around the corner. The woman is not to be found, likely in the powder room. Astarion sighs, some of the built up tension beginning to wane from his shoulders, and comes to stand with his back against the window across from the facilities.

The residual tension within him is beginning to bleed into anxiety and doubt the longer he waits. His mind is rapidly exchanging scenarios, all of which cause his stomach to become unsettled. Gooseflesh spreads over his arms and the fine hairs covering them stand on end. Why is he doing this? They'd agreed to be friends and nothing more. It’s his fault for not being able to honor his end of the deal, he knew, but by the Gods, he simply does not care.

Since the first drops of her blood spread across his tongue, Astarion knew something within him changed. He wasn't sure if it was due to her being his proverbial “first,” but he felt… compelled by her from that moment forward. Bonded almost, in a strange way.

In a sea of crimson, her blood would always sing loudest to him. It horrified him in the beginning, recalling memories of Cazador's puppeteering ways. The fear ebbed into compassion, after a time. As their physical relationship grew more intimate, compassion melted into an overwhelming desire to guard her. A want to protect what was his, finally his, after so many godsdamned years of pure, absolute shit.

Their… whatever it was they shared, was his. And he would gladly throw his life on the line any chance he could to insure its sustainability.

He catches a glint of red in his peripheral vision again. The human, oblivious to his presence, begins her trek back to her seat at the bar. The thought barely has time to process in Astarion’s head before his body reacts, reaching out to grab the side of her arm, pulling her back toward the wall with him.

“What the-!” the woman exclaims in shock. Her other hand comes up to begin swatting at the offending appendage. She stops midway as her eyes meet his face, recognition washing over her. “Oh, Astarion,” she says, voice flat, “what… what are you doing here?”

A practiced smile graces his lips as he releases the grip on her arm. “Am I not free to seek my own pleasure, darling?” An uneasiness begins to take root again, mind scolding him once the words leave his lips. What in the hells kind of question is that?

Astarion clears his throat. “I was simply out for a drink before returning home when I saw what appeared to be a fire in the middle of the bar.” Unsure of what response he's hoping for, he's praying she doesn't catch onto his desperate attempt at recovery.

A quick blush spreads across her cheeks and she bows her head, giving a genuine smile. Astarion huffs out a breath in relief.

During their time together, Astarion would often tease that her hair reminded him of a raging fire. Eventually, he adorned her with the pet name of “spitfire;” she thoroughly enjoyed solving the majority of her problems through brute force. She favored it, evidenced by a deep blush that would spread across her features.

Not unlike the one rising to her face at this very moment.

Were he honest with her, he’d tell her that this isn’t the first time he’s followed her since they parted - watched helplessly from afar as she rotated through potential nightly suitors. He chooses not to, however. Chooses to not tell her that he’s noticed every man she’s taken home has platinum hair. How they’re always of elven lineage.

She seems to buy his excuse as she visibly relaxes before him. “Oh, no, of course, Astarion,” she sighs. “It's uh, it's been a few weeks, hasn't it?” Her eyes are soft as she shifts her weight onto one hip. “How have you been?”

She's nervous, he can tell. She's doing that thing with her lip, chewing the inside of it. The rush of blood in her veins crashes and bellows in his ears as her blush settles deeper across the top of her chest.

“As well as one would imagine,” Astarion replies, “after having their heart broken.” There’s an air of nonchalance decorating his tone. A well-worn smirk tugs at his lips. He's fuming inside at the thought of another touching her, but he doesn't want to play his cards outright yet.

No, he wants to see her squirm, wants to inflict just a touch of the torment he's experienced since their parting.

What a spiteful creature.

Her expression falls flat, jaw tensing. “I'm not sure what you mean by that,” she retorts in a meek tone. She pulls her shoulders back. "I-I thought we agreed to be friends, no?”

Astarion glances over his shoulder to see the young tiefling gentleman from before passing behind them. Their eyes meet, Astarion furrowing his brow. His jaw tightens, lips curling upward, and the peaks of his fangs are visible. He watches for the tiefling’s reaction, elated to find that the boy is clearly shaken by his display. The Tiefling turns to speak but decides against it, turning his back to the scene before him.

Astarion sneers.

Yet another unworthy fool.

Though… a fool who has touched her. Something he and only he should be privy to.

An inferno erupts within him.

Astarion grabs the young woman by the arm again and leads her toward the supply closet at the end of the hall, making quick work of the lock. Astarion scans their surroundings before opening the door and shoving her in, a small squeak pushed past her lips from the impact of his hand on her back. Quickly closing the door behind him, he yells, “Ignis!” a fireball lighting the lone torch in the room.

“Astarion, what-” she shouts in protest. Before the opportunity arises he’s back on her, pinning her in place to the wall with his hips. His hands fly up to cup either side of her jaw.

"Do you truly believe I meant that?" he growls low in his throat, their eyes meeting in a whirlwind. “That I only wanted to be friends?” he adds, mockingly.

He's desperately searching her face for something, anything to show him he's not alone in this. Her tense expression stokes the fire raging within him.

Suddenly, he's spiraling.

The small voice in his head, his conscience, is yelling at him to stop - to pull back. She’s made it quite clear how she feels, you love-sick idiot.

Logic fails him - he cannot form a single cohesive thought. Not when she's looking at him like that.

A doe caught unawares in the middle of a forest. Eyes blown wide, mouth slightly agape. Not unlike those he's hunted multiple times in the past. His chest heaves as he drinks in her expression, a wave of heat rising up within him.

The compulsion is overwhelming, rapidly losing the battle with the rational part of his brain. Bitterness bites at the back of his throat like acid.

He absolutely must continue.

“Is that why your home has become a revolving door?” Astarion says, watching her face shift.

“Excuse me?” the human asks, offense evident in her tone. A rhetorical question, though he pushes forward.

“Of men who look just enough like me?” he continues, driving the thorn deeper into the woman's side.

Suddenly, she’s stone, cold and unwelcoming. Her face twists into something sour, nose scrunching up in disgust.

“Astarion Anunín… Have you been stalking me?” she nearly yells.

Oh, he has her right where he wants her.

"The color of their hair does always match my own…” Astarion ponders aloud, head tilting to one side. “Have any of them fucked you as thoroughly as I have, darling?" he chides.

Pulling in a quick, ragged breath, the young woman shudders beneath him, her head falling forward. Her hips involuntarily twitch against the knee he’s suddenly wedged between her thighs and she whimpers, biting her lip to stifle the sound.

“Astarion…” she groans, eyes falling closed.

She’s upset, he knows. Yet, he’s privy to how she can barely resist the call of his body against her. Why not use that knowledge to his advantage?

A heavy flush settles across her face and she reopens her eyes, looking up at him through hooded lids. Astarion sees it then - the unabashed desire emanating from her.

How ironic, he thinks to himself, that her eyes have a hunter green hue. At this moment she feels like prey, wrapped up in a delicate satin bow, all for him.

The remnants of his eternally damned soul sing in delight at her unraveling before him. Saliva pools thick on his tongue as he lavishes the thought of pushing forward, closing in on her.

Astarion leans toward her, cocking his head again to one side. “Hells, Tav… Did it really never occur to you that we made love the last time we were together?" he asks quietly, mouth hovering just above her lips.

Tav shivers beneath him, body writhing against the wall she's leaning against. Her hands come up to press against his chest, gripping fistfuls of his shirt as she grinds herself again on the knee between her legs. The flush on her face is so deep, practically matching the color of her hair.

“Y-you’re hardly playing fair,” she huffs out. She moans again, genuine and clear, making little attempt to subdue the noise. Astarion groans in response before closing the distance, finally capturing her lips in a kiss.

He’s timid at first, wanting to gauge her reaction. Tav doesn't resist nor push him away, giving him the encouragement to continue. Her jaw grows pliant under him and invites him deeper into her mouth, tongues entangling for a quick moment. The kiss is brief - just enough until she settles beneath him. Both of their chests heave as they part.

Astarion’s eyes rest upon her lips before he draws his head back. His hands fall from her face and he lays his palms flat against the wall on either side of her head.

"My biggest regret is that I lacked the courage to tell you with words..." he admits, voice trailing off. The ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he adds, "so, instead, I used the one tool I'm most versed with.”

Tav's pupils blow wide at the implication of his words.

Of course, Astarion used his body - used himself as an instrument. Again. To him, this is familiar territory. This is safe.

This is all I’m good for.

"It appears I must have gotten my translation wrong," he quips.

Tav shakes her head in disagreement. “It wasn’t wrong…”

She adjusts herself against the wall as Astarion’s leg falls back into a normal position, no longer wedged between her.

“I was so sure… and then the morning after, I- '' She cuts herself off and swallows. “I didn’t know what to think, Astarion.”

Astarion pushes himself off the wall, taking a few steps back from Tav to give her space.

“I don’t understand,” he begins, folding his arms over his chest. “I thought I made my position rather clear that morning. About…” He shrugs his shoulders. “Us. This.”

Huffing out a quick laugh, Tav shakes her head again, her discomfort in their current conversation mounting. “You started talking about being free, and-”

She stops herself again, choking back a sigh. “It just seemed so selfish to ask you to be with me. You were just getting yourself back, after so long.”

Tears begin to gather at the corners of Tav’s eyes. Gently with the pads of his thumbs, Astarion wipes them clean.

“Oh, my silly little love,” he says, lowering his face to place a chaste kiss upon her forehead. “How I wish you would have spoken to me first.”

Tav’s hands come up to cover his, removing them from her face. “I think… I think I need to go,” she tells him, urgently.

Nodding in silent agreement, Astarion lets her dip out from under him, seeing her inch closer toward the door.

Before she grips the door’s handle, she turns to look at him. “...Can we talk more about this?” She quickly gestures to their surroundings before adding, “In a better situation, maybe?”

Astarion can only sigh, chest rising and falling heavily. “Of course, my dear. Do you have a particular place in mind?”

Her eyes fall to the floor. Tav knits her fingers together nervously, rubbing her thumbs over the other. “Well… where are you staying?”

A quick laugh escapes his throat and he averts his gaze. His voice is soft and tender as he focuses on a broom leaning against the corner of the wall behind her, “...I went home.”

Tav furrows her brow before asking, “What do you mean by home?”

“Home, to Cazador’s,” he states, devoid of emotion. Astarion’s eyes fall back onto her, watching as she adjusts her posture.

“It’s not as though I know much else,” he continues. “I lack the gold or the ability to work. I have only what I’m able to pilfer off the unassuming, and I’ve grown tired of playing such a role.”

Astarion sighs heavily again before adding, “There are a number of… resources available to me, now that Cazador is gone. It would be foolish of me to squander them.”

Tav only nods in his direction, her expression falling flat. “Alright,” she says, “I’ll meet you… there, I guess.” She unlaces her hands and turns around, heading back toward the door.

“Tavaria,” Astarion calls to her as she wraps a hand around the door handle again, freezing in place at the use of her full name. “If you do decide to visit me, you’re going to need the passcode for the tower door.”

Looking over her shoulder, Tav waits for him to continue. Moments pass between them, the air growing thick and stale within the small closet. When she doesn’t speak, he pushes forward.

“It’s spitfire,” Astarion tells her.

He hears more than sees the small inhalation of breath she takes as his words register. Turning her head forward again, Astarion watches her finally twist the knob to the door, pushing it open. Tav steps out of the closet, looking at him briefly before disappearing down the corridor of the tavern.

Astarion slumps against the cool stone of the supply closet wall, light now pouring through the open doorway. His head is throbbing, an uneasy ache beginning to take root deep within his chest.

What a day.

#astarion #astarion x female tav #astarion fanfic #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion smut #astarion angst #jealous astarion #possessive astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion romance #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #astarion fluff

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auteurdelabre · 1 month

Text

A Little Sun part 6 Dieter!Bravo x f!Reader

rating: 18+ words: 8.4k pairings: Dieter x f!Reader

tags: pregnancy, details of body changing with pregnancy, insecurity, mention of family death, mutual pining, idiots in love, soft dieter, fluff, lurve, angst, miscommunication trope, female masturbation, male masturbation, dirty talk (thoughts). summary: You move in with Dieter after the fight with your mom and things get... complicated. a/n: Y'all this thing has turned into such a fuckin' beast. Remember when I wanted it to be a one shot? Anyway, we're nearing the end with these two idiots in love but I think this one ends pretty damn sweet.

Also I think I'm in love with Dieter Bravo?

SERIES MASTERLIST

REBLOGS, COMMENTS, ENGAGEMENT ARE WHAT KEEP US FIC WRITERS GOING. PLEASE REMEMBER THAT IF YOU ENJOYED THIS.

Dieter doesn't even let you step fully into his home before he's got you in his arms, wrapping you in his warm embrace. Your suitcases clatter to the floor as you cling to him, burying your face in his neck and fighting back tears.

"You can stay as long as you want," Dieter promises you as one hand cups the back of your head. "Stay forever."

You give a watery chuckle into his shoulder, not quite ready to let go of him. You only break apart when the smell of European cigarettes wafts into the room.

You swipe at your damp eyes while Dieter turns to greet the tiny woman with a shock of white curls. She wears an oversized green t-shirt and loose khaki pants. She shuffles from place to place in her oversized moccasins.

"You remember Magda, right?"

"I think we've met a few times," you say extending your hand. The old woman gives you a look before shuffling over and placing her hand on your belly. You're in too much shock to pull back.

"A healthy boy," she tells you through a thick Eastern European accent. You and Dieter exchange looks of surprise.

"Uh yeah," you peer down at her shriveled frame, "How did you know that it was a boy?"

"I can tell."

She says it with a sage nod and then with that revelation she shuffles off to the kitchen, the feather duster still firmly lodged under her bony arm.

"She's the best," Dieter says says fondly before turning back to you with a look of expectancy. "Lemme show you where you're staying."

He takes both of your suitcase handles and jerks head to the left indicating you should follow.

You follow him out into his garden beside the pool. A place that you've never really visited much before. Most of your business has been conducted inside in his kitchen or in his office. You've heard about his guest house, how he had so many decorators come in over the years.

When you enter into it now, you're surprised at just how normal it seems. You were waiting for whips and chains and other strange memorabilia to line the walls. But instead it looks like something out of a Martha Stewart magazine. Crisp White's and Blue wainscotting. Overstuffed chairs and couches surround the coffee table from the photo he sent you. It's strangely tasteful.

It doesn't suit him at all.

Dieter must notice your surprise because he smirks before he rolls your suitcases towards the kitchen bar.

"Remember that Danish woman I dated for a couple months right after you started working for me?"

"Yeah, Lyda something.'

"Right. She wanted to start a career as an interior designer. I let her run the show in this place. Not really my taste."

"Not really mine either," You admit looking around the space. "It is beautifully done but I prefer the place we stayed in Ireland, like, that aesthetic. Old wood and big windows."

"I like that too," Dieter agrees. He sees you yawn and immediately feels guilty for keeping You up after such an emotional day.

"I'm going to have Petra whip you up something for dinner."

Petra is Dieter's chef who stocks his fridge with high end

"Dieter you don't-"

"You gotta take care of you and little Bravo remember?"

Dieter feels something in his chest bloom when instead of rolling your eyes you smile at him, nodding.

"Thanks Dieter."

You wake up the next morning in the plush duvet with your arms stretched above your head before rolling an absent hand down your swollen belly.

"Morning little boy," you whisper to the tiny being there beneath your fingertips. You give a groan as you gently roll yourself off the bed sliding into your slippers and pulling on your robe. Despite your devastation of what happened with your mother, waking up in this beautiful space on this gorgeously sunny day has you feeling hopeful.

This feeling is dampened slightly when you glance at your phone, looking to the calendar and seeing a date in the coming week starred. A date you have been dreading for months. Your birthday. The first one of yours since your father passed. Without your mom around this seems especially painful to consider. You close your phone, not wanting to think about it.

You spot a tall figure out the window and feel your cheeks flush. Something has shifted since Ireland. Something that terrifies you. The whisper of feelings that you're having a hard time repressing when you think of how he supports you.

But you push it from your mind. Your worlds don't match up. You’re serious, you take life seriously, you want to dedicate yourself to science. Dieter wants to fuck and party and grab life by the balls.

Plus he's with Mia and she makes him happy.

Dieter saunters across the backyard, narrowly missing the pool as he heads to the guest house. He's wearing an old t-shirt and sweatpants under tattered robe, his eyes hidden behind his sunshades. He's carrying a tumbler of whiskey in one hand and a smoothie in the other.

"Dieter it’s ten in the morning," you say as you open the sliding door to greet him.

"I'm still on Ireland time," he says giving you a waggle of his brows before setting the pale

pink smoothie down on the kitchen counter. "Breakfast when you're ready for it."

He sees you eyeing the smoothie warily and gives a deep rumbling chuckle.

"Petra made this one so you're safe. You like strawberries right?"

You take a tentative sip, before giving a soft moan of approval and drinking down the rest.

He rocks back on his heels a moment and despite the dark of his glasses, you can feel his gaze lingering on you.

"So... What're you up to today, Bravo?"

"You mean you don't know?"

"I'm officially no longer part of team Bravo remember?" You remind him with a sad chuckle as you place the empty glass back on the counter. "Diane cut my access to work emails and calendars."

"Shit that's right, I forgot." He looks at you with such a guilty expression. "I'm sorry."

"S'okay. I'm looking at this like a real non working vacation," you tell him honestly pointing out the window. "I figure you have a pool, there's a chef, a housekeeper, I brought books, what more could I ask for?"

"Plus you have a recreation staff," Dieter grins, taking you by the hand and twirling you gently towards him. "Dance lessons by the pool, movie nights, anything the customer wants."

"Hmmm an end to global warming?"

"Sorry that's only with the premium package."

You let out a loud laugh as Dieter joins you, spinning you into a hug. His mouth is only inches from yours and when the two of you realize this your mutual laughter ebbs.

Dieter wants nothing more than to press his mouth to yours, to taste you, to fuck you here in his home. But he knows it's not what you want. You don't want that from Dieter. You want somewhere safe to stay and he'll provide that to you.

Besides there is someone who does want his affection, his touch: Mia.

You swallow, your body poised and mouth slowly tilting towards Dieter before he seems to realize himself. He slowly extricates his arms from around you before reaching into his robe pocket, clearing his throat.

"Here's the key," Dieter tells you, holding it out to you. You take it, looking at the tiny Jameson keychain on it. The one that matches the one Dieter got you in Ireland that you wear on your own keychain. You smile at the sight of it before looking puzzled.

"A key?"

"For the guest house."

"I don't need to lock it," you chide even as you take it from him and toss it into your purse. "It's just you and me here right?"

"Yeah," Dieter hides the broad of his grin behind his whiskey glass. "Just you and me."

For the next several days Dieter tries to give you as much space as possible. He brings you a smoothie every morning citing that Magda is too busy. In the evenings he texts you to invite you over to the big house for dinner. Sometimes you join him, sometimes you’re just too tired.

You always go back to the guest house feeling a little bit down. You didn’t realize you missed sleeping in the same house, how Ireland made it almost feel like living together. Dieter’s place is so large it’s like you’re in separate neighborhoods.

Dinners are starting to be hard as well. Knowing you’ll be leaving to go back to the empty guest room. It’s a luxury, that’s for certain with its tall ceilings and plush bed. But it feels quiet without Dieter’s music or loud laughter.

And so you can admit to yourself that every morning he comes by with the pink smoothie and a big grin, your heart leaps a little bit. Like now, seeing him rushing over more frenzied than usual. He smiles, pushing the drink into your hand hurriedly.

“Here. Drink fast, I finished the nursery and want you to come look.”

“When did you have time to do the nursery?” You ask amazed as you follow him to the main house, smoothie almost drained by the time you reach his place.

“I’ve been in touch with this guy Diora from Albania over email since Ireland. He’s all the rage, super hard to get but he was really excited about trying his hand at a nursery. He just finished Criss Angel’s man cave and James Franco’s bedroom.”

Dieter sweeps a hand to the middle of your back, guiding you down the hall. When he opens the door with a flourish it takes everything in you not to gasp in horror. Your hand still rises to your mouth, though when you step into the room.

It looks like a sex dungeon.

Black and white striped walls, a beautifully ornate crib painted a ghastly red.

"Contrasting colors are good for baby’s retinas," Dieter says confidently. "I read it somewhere."

It takes you a few moments of staring at everything before you can speak.

"You have whips hung on the walls."

"Those are vintage skipping ropes," Dieter tells you aghast at your misunderstanding. You turn slowly, taking everything in. Finally you shake your head slowly.

"Dieter, this is totally inappropriate for a nursery," you say. "What baby would be happy here?"

Dieter takes a moment to glance around the space, his previous elation dimming with every word from you.

"This is what Diora suggested. He's the hottest designer right now."

"Of millionaire bachelor pads," you say as you look at a particularly ugly piece of metal hanging from the ceiling. "Not for a baby’s room."

"I'm not gonna have some tacky nursery with stuffed bears and shit,” Dieter defends. “I can't do it. Anyone who comes over and sees that'll think I've lost my edge."

The thought of being a father is immensely appealing to Dieter. The thought of being a loser Dad is not.

“Mia said it was cool,” Dieter shoots out. “I sent her photos.”

Mia is also in her early twenties, you want to snap. But you hold your tongue, trying to see the upsides to this nursery. Unfortunately you can see none. Everything is a safety hazard.

Dieter paces around the room, suddenly sour at the whole thing. He thought you’d be excited to see where the baby will be. Instead you’ve come in with your judgments and frowning face.

"Please let me... Dieter let me help you with this," you almost beg. "I just.... I know he's not mine but I can't stand the thought of him being in this... Baby prison."

I know he's not mine.

This hurts Dieter to hear it. He knows that you face no interest in being in this baby's life or his the week after you've given birth. But he can admit he's fooled himself with you being here.

But this? This is a project the two of you can work on. A potential to have more reason to have you in the house, not in that fucking guest house. He can only think of so many reasons to knock on your door apart from smoothies.

"Okay, sure."

“Okay,” you say looking relieved. “How about a pale blue or green? Then we can get a nice crib and some rugs and gauzy curtains.”

“That’s so boring.”

“And safe,” you emphasize. “You have to think of his safety, Dieter.”

Dieter pouts slightly in thought, trying to see the nursery through your eyes. He has to concede that perhaps this is a bit much for a newborn.

"Actually, you know what would look really beautiful on this far wall here?" You muse, looking at the space. "That painting you bought me for my birthday."

You think of the artwork hanging in your bedroom. The one of the woman looking out over the ocean, her hair whipping in the sea air. It’s the one thing you didn’t bring from home that you regret. There was something about that painting that made you feel relaxed.

"I didn't buy you that," Dieter says with a furrowed brow.

Your stomach sinks at this admission from Dieter and you wish you could take back everything. The intimacy of the moment, the vulnerability. He never even fucking bought the thing himself. Diane probably did and here you are pouring your heart out about it.

"Oh, uh-Or Diane or whoever-"

"I painted it for you."

All the animosity that had been brewing behind your sternum drains from you. A smile blooms immediately, your body tingling as you roll onto your side to fully face him.

"You did?"

"Yeah," Dieter is smirking at you from the shadows. "I love painting. You think I'd buy you a fucking painting?"

“I think I just assumed that you got Diane or whoever to ship it to me."

"Maybe if you were someone else," Dieter muses, his gaze wandering around the nursery. "Someone who doesn't do everything for me." He falls silent a moment. "You really thought I bought it?"

"Yeah."

"Didn't you think it was weird that the girl in the painting was you?"

Now you're stunned and it must show on your face because Dieter is chuckling softly now.

"You've had it hanging up your room for how long? Did you even look at it?"

"Of course I did, I do," you say in a rush, feeling embarrassed. You look at it every night you’re in your bedroom. "I just ... I never thought..."

"What?"

"I never thought you saw me."

Dieter blinks back at you, his dark eyes searching your face.

"I just mean you never even said thank you before this whole baby thing," you explain. "I've worked for you for a while and you kinda just expected I'd be at your beck and call all hours of the day and night, even on my days off."

"I'm sorry," Dieter whispers. "That was shitty of me."

"Why do you do it?

“I went through so many assistants I just assumed you wouldn’t be sticking around long.” Dieter looks ashamed as he says it out loud. “But then the longer you stayed the more I depended on you. I think… After a while I think it just felt weird to not message you.”

You both lapse into a thoughtful silence.

“You’ll manage just fine without me when I leave,” you tell him, needing him to know. “And if you’re ever feeling really lost and like you just need to talk to someone, you can always call me. Not as an employee, but as a friend.”

“Really? We’re friends?”

“Yeah,” you nod, heart hammering. “Friends.”

Dieter wakes up hard every morning for the next two weeks. He doesn't try to; he actively tries to think of other things before he goes to sleep. He watches documentaries, he reads art books, he meditates. He tries to push you from his thoughts so he can wake up normal.

But he always wakes up aching with the head of his cock weeping, flickering remnants of his dreams still floating around his subconscious. And those dreams are always of you.

Today he wakes up with the memory of his dream still lingering. You on your knees, his cock in your mouth and your eyes heavy lidded. As he shifts in bed Dieter realizes his boxers are sticky with previous release. A fucking nocturnal emission? How old is he?

And what's worse is that he's still fucking hard. Throbbing, actually He groans low in his throat and tries to ignore it.

You're here at his home. You're practically living with him. You're only a few steps from his back door. You're so close and yet so frustratingly far from him. He misses being in the same home as you, like the rental in Ireland. He misses the feeling of coming home after a long day on set and seeing your sweet face on the couch.

He wants that again.

Dieter rolls onto his belly to try and squash his current erection against the mattress. But that doesn't help, it just gives a delicious friction. He shifts again experimentally, groaning at the shiver that travels from the base of his spine to the tip. In his sleepy arousal he imagines that it's not the mattress but you that he's fucking.

"You like that?" Dieter murmurs, eyes closed as he rocks against his bed. "Like feeling me like that, baby?"

He pushes his hips into the bed, starting to rut when the pleasure increases.

You're so big, Dieter.

And suddenly he's thrusting against it, picturing your body writhing under him.

Need it, Dieter. Fuck me harder.

"Yes," Dieter groans into his pillow, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress. He thrusts furiously into the soft fabric of the bed, hips bouncing up and down on the mattress.

Need your big cock, daddy, your dream self moans. Need it deep.

"Fuck yes, baby. Take Daddy's cock. Take it and-"

His phone chirrups loudly on the table next to him, breaking him from the immersive fantasy.

A name and photo flash up on the screen.

Mia.

Immediately he feels guilty. Here he is humping his mattress to thoughts of you as his gorgeous, talented, funny, sexy girlfriend is calling.

He breathes rapidly through his nose, slowing his grinding movements. He rolls over in the bed, reaching for the phone.

"Hey babe," Dieter says, panting as he answers. He flips onto his back, willing his cock to go down.

"You okay? You sound like you've been exercising and I know that can't be true."

Dieter barks a laugh at that. He's about to reply when he hears a splash outside his window. Mia starts chatting in his ear but he's completely taken with the view outside his window.

You're in a bikini, gliding through the clear water of his pool. Dieter feels his mouth run dry at the sight, especially when you roll over onto your back, your belly protruding from the water like a beacon. Your hair dances around your head, your eyes closed, face tilted towards the sun. You have the sweetest little smile on your face.

You're so fucking beautiful.

"Dee? You there?"

"Huh? Yeah, sorry babe what?"

"I wanted to know how you're getting on? I've been staying off socials for the last little bit of the shoot trying to stay focused. I finally saw the photos from the airport. How is the poor thing holding up?"

"Stressed, but better."

"She must be happy to be at home away from all that madness."

Dieter feels his stomach clench. He knows he has to be honest with Mia, she's his girlfriend, she deserves to know. And yet he hesitates because he knows how it sounds.

"She's staying in my guest house, actually," Dieter offers in what he hopes is a nonchalant voice.

The warmth from Mia's voice is immediately gone.

"Pardon me?"

"She's, uh, in my guest house for the time being," Dieter adds, closing his eyes and bracing himself.

Mia shuffles on the other end before her voice reaches out to him confused.

"I thought you wanted a relationship with me, Dieter. Otherwise why did your agent go to so much trouble to confirm it? To do a splashy roll-out?"

"I do want it."

"But you have the employee you got pregnant living with you?"

"Not with me. In the guest house."

"This is weird, Dee."

He hears the concern in her voice and he feels his stomach drop. He doesn't want to lose Mia.

"Her mom kicked her out," Dieter explains quickly. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Pay for a hotel?"

The answer is so clear, so obvious. Why didn't he offer a hotel? He has the money. Why had it been so important for him to have you here?

Because then he could see you every day.

The answer is immediate but he won't admit it. Not now.

"The paps have been relentless," Dieter says finally. "They'll camp out outside of wherever I put her up. Not like here where I know she's safe away from the public eye."

"But-"

"She's not like us, Mia," Dieter insists. "She doesn't want fame and all that shit. She's just a regular person who's pregnant and alone. Her mom kicked her out, she's got no one else."

He can almost hear Mia softening over the phone.

"It's just hard, Dee," she says finally. "Especially when I haven't seen you in weeks."

Dieter feels a flutter of panic at how sad she sounds. He wants to make it up to her and has a great idea of how.

"Prague!"

Dieter bursts out with this, wincing when he hears how loud he is.

"Sorry, what?"

"What do you think about Prague?" Dieter corrects himself, rubbing nervously at his beard. "You're flying to LA next week for our magazine spread, right?"

"Yeah."

"And you've always wanted to go to Prague, right?"

"Yes."

"So let's do it. After the shoot let's get away from everyone and everything for a few weeks just us two."

"You'd really want to do that?"

"Of course."

He hears Mia weighing the choice on the other end of the line. He holds his breath until he can almost hear her smile.

"Okay Dee, let's do it."

“Amazing,” Dieter says grinning. “I’ll get Diane to send you the details. See you next week.”

He hangs up quickly, undressing and pulling on his swim trunks.

You’re floating on your back, sunglasses on your face, your body most submerged in the cool water. You hear the sound of a door opening and crack one eye open to see Dieter approaching.

Dieter never uses his pool. He got the house on a whim and didn’t even notice it had a pool until he officially moved in. But right now seeing your tits overflowing out of your bikini cups has him so utterly thankful to his former self.

He shrugs off his robe, sliding into the chilly water with an exaggerated brrrr. He swims over to you, sunglasses perched on the end of his nose.

“Looked so refreshing I had to join.”

“It’s so nice,” you sigh, your arms and legs out as you soak up the sun and enjoy the lack of strain on your lower back. “I never want to get out.”

Dieter paddles near you for a moment, wanting to remember this moment before he recalls his conversation with Mia.

“Well you’ll have the place to yourself the next couple of weeks.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, Mia and I are going to Prague like you suggested.”

“That’s so great," you say with a tightness in your voice. “When do you leave?”

“Next Thursday.”

Next Thursday.

Dieter stars to drone on about how Mia has all these restaurants and museums she wants to go to but all you can think of is that you’ll be alone on your birthday. The first one since your father passed. No mother to turn to. Nothing. You’ll be completely alone.

A sudden flutter begins in your abdomen and you give an absent smile, hand slowly sliding over your stomach.

Well, not completely alone.

From where you stand in your guest house kitchen you can see into the main house. Specifically into the dining room. At night when the landscape is dark and the lights are on inside you can see it very clearly.

Like tonight.

You can see him pacing inside the house, his tall frame gesticulating wildly. He's obviously going over some lines. He asked you to have dinner and run through them but you’d texted back some feeble excuse.

The truth is you need to separate yourself as much as possible from Dieter because you’re convinced that what you’re starting to feel can’t be explained away by hormones. This desire to be with him.

But he’s leaving with Mia in a few short days on some whirlwind romantic escape. You even showed him the best way to pack his fucking suitcase! The sight of a box of condoms at the bottom of it hidden by the toiletries bag made your throat tighten.

Despite this your eyes sail over to Dieter’s house again, watching him make a note on his script before running through the lines. He looks so sexy when he does it, totally lost in the moment. It reminds you of the character he played in Ireland.

Fuck, that insatiable need is coursing through your body again. The hormones kicking into overdrive as you feel your thighs press together at the memory of Dieter and that regency costume. He looked so good in it. You can almost hear his husky voice in your ear.

It's okay if you want it, baby. Lemme give it to you.

You throw yourself into your plush bed, your hands sliding down under your panties and working frantically against your straining clit.

Uh huh. Just like that. Gotta come on my fingers before you get this cock.

You throw your head back, thighs squeezing as you rut against your fingers. This phantom Dieter plays in your mind, his husky voice full of dark, delicious promise.

Gonna fuck such pretty sounds out of you.

"Dieter," you groan, unable to help yourself. It's pathetic how quickly and easily your orgasm overtakes you. It leaves you shuddering and whimpering, rutting into your fingers and then finally collapsing back as you stare at the ceiling.

What the fuck are you doing?

Despite everything Dieter is still your boss in some ways. He’s still the man paying you to have a child. Yes, he’s sort of a friend, but at the end of the day he still holds some authority over you.

You wish that last thought didn’t turn you on so much.

You’re still groaning when you hear the light tap of knuckles on glass and you jerk up in your bed, face flushed.

You wipe your damp hand on the sheets before slowly stumbling out of the bedroom. Dieter is standing there at the glass door, giving you a stiff wave. You move quickly, tugging the door open. The sound of cicadas and LA night traffic punctuate the formerly peaceful space.

“Is everything okay?”

“I’m really sorry to come over here so late but Magda just told me when she was cleaning this place this afternoon she saw a roach.”

“What?”

Immediately you’re moving towards him, glancing behind you in disgust. Your eyes sweep the floor and counters for any trace. Strange, you haven’t noticed anything and this place is kept perfectly clean.

“Yeah,” Dieter nods, looking tense. “So I gotta get this place fumigated ASAP.”

“Of course.”

“But the fumes are bad for the baby so you’ll have to move your stuff into the main house until it’s finished.”

“For how long do you think?”

“Dunno,” Dieter shrugs, motioning to the room airily. “I was gonna call a guy in the morning to get some quotes. Might be a couple weeks before they can get someone out here.”

A couple weeks? Dieter has enough money to have the place fumigated tonight if he really wanted to. You gaze up at Dieter about to say as such when you see the searching nature of his eyes and suddenly the shoe drops.

There’s no roach.

You note the tense way he rubs his fingers together, the way his brows rise and eyes go owlish the longer you stare at him.

“I’m terrified of roaches,” you finally tell him as you start to throw your stuff into your suitcases. “Can I move my stuff in tonight?”

“Would be the safest,” Dieter nods exaggeratedly helping you to pack. It takes no time at all before he’s helping you carry the suitcases across the yard and into his home.

The guest room is just as nice as the guest house with tall ceilings but slightly less homey. Dieter prefers marble floors and gold accents. Things he was taught as a child meant rich. The bed is lovely, but minimalist. You are however very impressed with the large bathtub and even bigger rain forest shower. You put your suitcases to the side, feeling Dieter watch you from the doorway.

“It’s still early you wanna watch a doc or something?”

You bite back the delighted smile that threatens to bleed over your features before you turn to face him.

“Sure.”

“Okay, you got your passport, the tickets are on your phone, your bags are packed,” the young man’s reedy voice lists off things from his checklist as the three of you stand in the kitchen the following week. Dieter is sitting on one of the stools dressed nicely and looking nervously from the paper to you, completely ignoring Rupert.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go.”

“Dieter.”

“What if you go into labor?”

“Almost three months early?” you force a laugh from where you stand by the fridge. “Then we have bigger issues than you not being here. Now c’mon. Mia’ll be here any second.”

Today is the photo spread for the movie Mia and Dieter starred in. It’ll run late so the lovebirds have decided on spending the night in a fancy hotel before shuttling off to Prague the next day. Dieter is always nervous about trips away but he realizes this is especially daunting since he’ll have no PA with him.

Diane has sent him someone new over during the week. A young man with bloodshot eyes and a nervous countenance named Robert or Roger. Dieter can’t remember. All he knows is that the kid does his job decently but he isn’t you.

But he promised himself that he would plan this trip for he and Mia. He researched the restaurants and hotels with her and booked it all. He got them the best seats in the plane and the nicest suite in the hotel.

But all he can think is that he’s going to be away from you for two weeks. Away from his son nestled safely in your body.

“I made a new tape for him,” Dieter says, suddenly snapping. He reaches into his pocket and slides the tape towards you. “Make sure he listens.”

“Yes, yes,” you say rolling your eyes.

The doorbell rings and Rupert immediately goes to answer it leaving you and Dieter alone. He watches you peering into the fridge trying to find something to satisfy your current craving of salty vanilla pudding.

“I don’t want to leave you.”

His voice is a quiet hum. Your mouth tries to form the words but all you can think of is Dieters warm eyes, his hands caressing your belly, the sweet timbre of his voice when he reads to you when you can’t sleep.

“I’m going to be okay,” you promise him softly as you glance over to him. “Now go say hello to your girlfriend.”

Dieter nods resolutely before bolting around the corner to see Mia. You hear his excited greeting and you try not to feel upset. Instead you dig around in the cupboard for something salty. You hear your name being called and you turn to see Dieter and Mia entering the room.

Mia’s eyes go round with shock at seeing you waddle towards her. You give a bright smile, despite the pang that goes through you at the sight of them hand-in-hand.

"Oh wow," Mia says when you waddle into the room holding a bag of chips.

"Weird right?"

"A little," she laughs. You join in, knowing how strange this entire scenario is. You feel like a baby hippo meanwhile Mia looks like she just stepped off the runway.

“So nice to see you,” she says, giving you an awkward hug as she avoids the bump. “I brought a little something for the baby,” she hands a wrapped gift to Dieter, “and one for you.”

Dieter unwraps the package, bringing out a first edition copy of Winnie the Pooh. Your eyes widen at the sight. That must have cost her a fortune.

“Thanks babe,” Dieter says warmly, kissing her. You look away, unwilling to watch and unwrap your gift from Mia which turns out to be a delicate crystal flower vase. Arguably one of the most useless things on the planet since you hate flowers. Dieter knows this and you think you catch a curl of amusement in his face.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you falter.

“I know,” she says sweetly. “I just saw it and thought of you.”

“It’s beautiful,” you say, careful not to exchange amused looks with Dieter across the room. You shoot a soft smile at Mia. “Thank you so much. I’ll go pop it in my room so it doesn’t get broken. Magda tends to be a little chaotic when she cleans.”

You turn, about to go down the hallway to the bedroom when you feel something like tension in the room. You don't know why you pause but you do.

"I thought you were staying in the guest house?" She asks you but her eyes are scanning Dieter’s face.

“She was,” Dieter explains, hoping his cheeks aren’t red. “But there were roaches.”

Mia’s face scrunches. “Roaches?”

“Yeah,” you finally fumble, rubbing absently at your stomach. "The guest house needed to be fumigated and that’s not safe for the baby. That’s the only reason I’m in the guest room. I’ll be out in the guest house as soon as the fumigation is over."

Mia nods, but you don't miss the lingering look there in her light eyes.

With Dieter in Prague for the next few weeks you have a lot of free time to yourself. The only problem is you have no one to spend it with. You can't be seen in public now without a bodyguard save for your short walks through Dieter's Calabasas neighborhood. Phone calls with your mom are no longer an option. So you spend most of your time scrolling through social media, watching movies and swimming.

Dieter has always been annoying but he's the kind of annoying that brings you comfort now. Without his loud presence in the house you start to feel lonely. A strange feeling you've never really experienced due to your busy lifestyle.

It makes you long for the sound of Dieter's record player in the art room. Makes you long for his brash laughter during a funny commercial. Makes you long for the way your voices worked against one another when practicing lines, the sound of him muttering to himself when he reads something that interests him in the paper, the way he rasps your name when he’s just woken up.

All the sounds of Dieter that you realize have come to be their own comforting symphony to you.

But he’s with Mia and that's how it should be. They're on the same level. And you know that these feelings are from your hormones. This warmth will fade the second this child is taken from you and is likely contributing to this lonely feeling that arises with you each empty morning.

He’s only been gone four days but those days seem to stretch into eternity. Your mind is usually so full and your schedule packed. But you’re almost annoyingly free right now. Dieter has made only one request of you and that is to update the app every day at least once. He says it makes him feel less guilty about leaving, even though you're the one who encouraged it.

So you do.

29 weeks

Cravings

SALT

Vanilla

pie filling

chips

peanuts

Missing

the ability to see my feet

Baby is size of butternut squash

The only thing that tethers you to Dieter are the sporadic text messages he sends you. Where you once found his constant need to stay in touch annoying, now you crave his random messages, re-reading them with a smile.

[1:44pm] D: I hate not speaking Czech. I feel like everyone is making fun of me and I have no proof. [1:44pm]: You're being paranoid. [1:44pm] D: I'm not!!! [1:46pm] D: Okay maybe a little. Mia and I did an edible. [1:46pm]: Dieter! [1:46pm] D: Diane said no hard drugs! Edibles are natural.

You roll your eyes.

[1:47pm]: Whatever. Hope you're having fun.

You wish you could see his face when you recall Mia's instagram. You forgot you follow her. The second you click on her story you wish you hadn't. It's her and Dieter in a gorgeous spot in Prague chatting with the caption: Czech us Out! @BravoitsDieter

Your loneliness hits you on the fifth day quite acutely. And instead of turning to television or swimming you lay on your back in bed and stare up into the ceiling before your fingers fumble for your phone and you type hurriedly.

[6:08am]: I think he has your hair. [6:12am] D: Huh? What?? Why? [6:12am]: They say if the mother has lots of heartburn then the kid will have lots of hair. Right now I feel like my heart has been dropped in acid. [6:13am] D: No way. I thought babies were always bald. [6:13am]: Not always. I wasn't. Were you? [6:13am] D: Dunno. Never saw baby photos of myself. [6:14am]: Why not? [6:14am] D: My mom cared about stuff like that. When she died my dad just put everything in the attic and tried to forget.

You didn't know that about Dieter. You've heard snatches of information from other staff that Dieters dad is a low life, but to not save photos of your kid? That seems cruel.

[6:14am]: I'm sorry. [6:15am] D: NP. [6:15am] D: Mia is taking me to a museum so I gtg ttyl

You frown at the phone.

"What a bitch," you murmur before stopping yourself. You think about how your baby can probably hear sounds outside the womb now and you feel guilty.

"No, actually, she's not a bitch. She's really lovely and she's so good for your dad."

Your hands drift over your belly slowly, subconsciously as you speak and soon your eyes follow suit.

"Strange to think you're just in there all snuggly," you tell your belly with amusement. You gasp when you think you can feel a slight flutter within you abdomen.

"Is that you?" You wonder aloud. "Can you hear me?"

The fluttering continues and you feel something in you shift. Your heart squeezes pleasantly. He rarely moves around for just you. It seems he's most active when Dieter is nearby.

"You're really in there," you laugh to yourself. "And you can hear me."

The lonely feelings begin to dissipate. You're not alone - you have your son to keep you company. You talk to him through the day. You make jokes about bubble having Dieters hair. You talk to Bubble about the book you read on the porch. When you watch a documentary you narrate for the baby.

You update the app with a cheerful photo of you making a heart over the bellybutton with your fingers. You think Dieter will get a kick out of it.

When you go to bed you put the headphones over your belly and hit play on the walkman.

"This is a new one from your Dad," you tell your belly wryly as you position the foam on either side of your bump. "So I apologize now if it's fucking annoying."

With a serene smile you go to sleep with his muffled voice against your skin. And when you wake up on the sixth day you feel good. It's not until you look at the calendar that you're reminded of Friday's date.

Your birthday.

The first one without your father. It makes your stomach drop.

As if all of California has gotten the memo the day is grey and drizzly. You spend most of the day napping and eating whatever Petra has put together. But by mid afternoon you’re feeling restless. You try walking around the block, but the weather drives you back inside. You try to distract yourself but nothing seems to work.

Petra and Magda have gone home for the day. It’s just you and bubble and right now it feels like it’s just you. You decide to order a pizza for dinner, and as you wait for your Hawaiian Delight to arrive you can’t help but reach out to the one person you wish was here.

[5:48pm]: How is Prague? [5:50pm] D: Boring. [5:50pm]: Only you would say Prague is boring, Dieter. [5:51pm] D: In the airport now. Gonna go to Germany for a couple days. Mia really wants to see Cologne Cathedral and apparently they’re doing some once-in-a-decade tour event thing. I dunno. How’s the bubble? [5:51pm]: Still here.

You don’t know why you’re both still calling him Bubble. The tabloids have made it impossible not to be aware that you’re pregnant after all. But there’s something sweet about referring to him as your little Bubble.

[5:52pm] D: airport is so fucking noisy and I'm so tired. found coffee though.

[5:52pm]: Make sure not to drink too much. You won’t sleep on the plane. [5:52pm] D: U didn’t update the app today. [5:53pm]: Sorry, been distracted. [5:53pm] D:??? [5:53pm] D: How come?

You have no desire to get into this over text. Besides it’s not Dieters problem, it’s yours. And it’s not a problem it’s just. . . life.

[5:55pm]: Doesn’t matter. Here, this will have to do.

You attach a picture of your hand over your swollen bump and send it over.

You’re surprised when you see Dieter calling.

“Hello?”

“Why are you distracted?”

“Dieter don’t you have better things to do than call me about this?” You say rolling your eyes, but still delighted to be hearing his raspy voice. “Aren’t you in the airport?”

“Yeah.”

“Isn��t Mia with you?”

“She went to get another magazine for the flight. You gonna tell me what’s going on? Is it the Bubble?”

“No,” you say grunting as you lean back against the sofa.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine!”

“Cmon,” Dieter cajoles. “You know I’m just gonna keep calling and texting until you tell me.”

“Its pregnancy brain,” you throw out, hoping this will satiate him.

“Liar. Your voice always does that clipped thing when you lie.”

You can’t help but feel a small smile cross your features. You hear the distant boarding call for his flight and you decide you might as well tell him. It’s not like he doesn’t already know that your dead is dead.

“It’s just… It’s my birthday. The first one since my dad died and ...."

You trail off. You hear silence on the other end of the phone and then a soft fuck.

“Dieter?”

“I thought it was next month,” Dieter is murmuring and you can hear him tapping on the phone. “Fucking calendar. Fuck. I thought it was next month same day. That’s what I have it as. Fuck. This is why I don’t program my own fucking electronics. Fuck.”

“Nope. Today,” you clarify, amused at how frazzled he sounds. “But it’s not your problem. It’s just this is my first birthday without my Dad and, my Mom isn’t talking to me and I realized I’ve worked so hard so long I have no real friends and…. It’s just…”

You break off when you feel tears starting.

“Anyway, not your problem,” you say forcing your voice up an octave. “I’m only telling you because you asked. I hope you and Mia enjoy your trip! I can’t wait to see photos.”

“Hey, wait-“

“I gotta go,” you say, brushing the stray tears that have escaped. “Pizza guy is here. Bye!”

You hang up the phone and then place it on silent. You don’t want to talk with him anymore. You don’t want to talk with anyone. You just spoke to Dieter but that doesn't stop you from missing him. It gets to the point where you pull up old interview footage with him on YouTube just so you can hear his voice and see his smile.

When the pizza arrives you pay the guy delivering it, but then you just shove the box in the fridge. You take a shower, letting the tears mingle with the steamy droplets before pulling on a new nightdress. You grab the walkman and headphones, about to put them on when you pad t the kitchen for a glass of water.

You walk back, about to retire to your guest room, walking past Dieter’s bedroom. You’ve rarely ever been inside it and never when he isn’t at home. But something about today compels you into it, something make you push open the door and walk to his bed.

The room is recently cleaned by Petra, the bed freshly made, the floors sparkling, his clothing put away. The fireplace is off but you switch it on, noticing his tattered green robe freshly washed and hanging on the back of the bedroom door. You don’t even think about it, you just pull it on over your sleep dress and stumble into his bed.

Dieter’s bed is so comfy, even better than the one in his guest house and room. You curl under the sheets, burying your face in his pillow. It smells like his expensive shampoo and the cologne he sometimes wears. It brings tears to your eyes.

You wish he was here.

You turn onto your back, tummy swollen and resting heavily. It makes you long for Dieter in all aspects. Not just to fuck, but to spend time with. He's so different from anyone you know. He doesn't follow rules or social norms. But when you're with him you feel calm and not judged. It makes you feel like you can let go.

"Your daddy really is wonderful," you murmur to your belly, stroking it. "You might hear bad stuff but you need to know what a good heart he has. He's so generous and funny and he loves so deeply. You're not even here yet and he's so in love with you."

You look at the walkman resting beside you, and instead of putting it around your abdomen something inspires you to put the headphones on yourself. You’ve never listened to the message before but tonight you do.

You slip the cheap foam over your ears, rewinding the tape and smiling when his voice sounds out over the tape.

“Hey little Bravo, this is your dad speaking. I just found out you’re gonna be a boy. Woah. My son. Uh, I need you to know that you are so special and that when you’re born we’re gonna have so much fun. I’ve already made a list of places we’re gonna go. And-“

It goes on like this for several minutes with Dieter excitedly detailing all his future plans for he and his son. You hang onto every word, enraptured with the life he has in store for his son. You imagine a future with Dieter holding a baby with his same wild hair. And in this future you see him reach for a woman, but she isn’t you. It’s Mia, and she looks so happy with them. The perfect family.

Dieter’s voice draws you back in.

“You need to know that your Mom loves you just as much as me. I watch her patting you and whispering to you all the time. She told me last week that you were the size of a head of cauliflower. Then she started humming a song about her cauliflower son.”

You laugh out loud at the memory of you swimming a few weeks ago humming a tune about a cauliflower son. You didn’t even realize Dieter was paying attention. You turn your attention back to the recording.

“I just want you to know how much I love you. I love you so so much. I’m so excited to meet you.”

You stop the tape, rewinding it.

“I just want you to know how much I love you. I love you so much.”

You sniffle, rewinding the tape again.

“I just want you to know how much I love you. I love you so much.”

Again.

“I love you so much.”

Again and again you rewind to hear that section. And as you finally drift off into sleep it’s to the gentle sound of the man you desire whispering how much he loves you.

Dieter arrives at home late, toeing off his sneakers as he yawns, scratching his belly before heading for his bedroom. The suitcase is left at the front door, tomorrow’s problem. He’s exhausted from the flight and he needs to get some sleep before he talks to you tomorrow morning.

He opens the door to his room, preparing to throw himself into bed when he notices the fireplace is on. He pauses, seeing you in your bed lying on your side sleepily soundly. A small smile curls onto his lips when he sees the bright yellow walkman in your hand, fingers loosely around it. What strikes him is that you're wearing the headphones; you don't have them around your belly.

Dieter is quiet, looking down at your peaceful sleeping face illuminated by your bedside table. One of your hands is splayed over your belly protectively and this makes him smile. He gently pulls the earphones from off your head, sliding the walkman from your grip and placing both on his nightstand.

He figures he’ll sleep in the guest room tonight, musing that you’re playing musical beds tonight.

You murmur something sleepily, something be doesn't catch. He takes a minute longer to look at you and then his face hovers over yours. He kisses you softly, an innocent press of his lips to yours.

"G'night baby mama."

You shift partly awake, arms reaching out to wrap around his neck. He grins, allowing himself to get pulled into the bed next to you. You’re so warm. You don't say anything; you just snuggle up against him, face nuzzling against his neck.

"Go back to sleep, baby," Dieter tells your sleepy frame. "Just turning the light off."

He presses a ginger kiss to your temple before his free hand clicks the light next to the bed.

"Okay, love you, g'night," you murmur, still mostly dozing.

Dieter is silent, unmoving as your words rattle around in his head. He waits until you're snoring before he finally replies.

"I love you too."

TAGLIST: @getitoutofmymindwrites @manuymesut @whirlwindrider29 @mostardentlypascal @lu62 @missladym1981 @heareball @sptbear @drewharrisonwriter @lizzie-cakes @daddy-dins-girl @moel-jiller @tammythr @guelyury @lilyevanstan1325 @lu62 @sptbear @staywildflowahchild @whirlwindrider29 @pedropascalsbbg @cherrycosmos392

#dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #dieter x reader #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #series #a little sun

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kookygranger · 5 months

Text

Fairytale of Hawkins: Part One

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

A cheesy hallmark Christmas fic inspired by @bettyfrommars's tow truck!Eddie and prompts #1 & #6 from Betty and @allthingsjoeq's Holiday Prompt Party

Summary: You're spending Christmas in your best friend Robin's hometown this year, after spending far too many alone in the city. She can't wait to introduce you to the gang and all the wholesome festive activities they get up to, but you may have already made a not-so-good first (and second) impression on a certain metalhead in the first few days of your visit.

Warnings: mention of car crashing into snowbank (no damage), reader gets drunk (happy holidays!), reader doesn't have family, reader and Eddie are in their late 20s/early 30s, swearing

Word count: 4.4k

Author's note: I've spent far too long agonising over this when it's supposed to be silly and fun and not perfect, so please just have this first part and ignore me screaming into a pillow in the corner.

Part Two

6 Days 'Til Christmas

You really weren’t feeling the holiday spirit this year.

Not that you normally did.

Christmas for you, meant taking advantage of a quiet city, spending the hours alone walking the empty streets and having nothing but smoked salmon and champagne for dinner without feeling guilty. Sometimes (every Christmas), you’d let a corny Hallmark movie play on your TV and cringe and laugh at the predictableness of it all. Maybe, you’d be a bit quieter when the lovesick couple inevitably kissed at the end, maybe you’d pour yourself a little more champagne.

The aesthetic of the holiday season itself, you didn’t mind so much. The pretty twinkling lights, spiced hot drinks, and cookies you could take. But the frenzied crowds, all the talk of “goodwill” and “Christmas cheer”, when all you had to do was spend an hour in a department store to witness the real ugliness of humanity – hard pass. And let’s not forget Christmas day itself, either people would be spending it stuck with family, passive-aggressive comments and secrets coming out after the first few rounds of spiked punch, or they’d be forcefully and painfully reminded of just how lonely they were in this world.

The snow was nice. You secretly enjoyed the quiet and stillness a fresh blanket of snow could bring to the city. But out here in the sticks? Snow was your worst enemy.

Once your heart had settled back to a normal pace, you got out of the car to assess the damage. There was no smoke coming from places it shouldn’t, no visible scratches or dents that you could see – but there was also no way in hell that you were getting this car out of the snowbank you’d crashed into. At least the deer you swerved to avoid was probably off in the trees to your left with its family, living to frolic another day.

“Shit.”

You had no idea where you were. Already lost on the horrible directions your best friend Robin had given you before that damn deer came out of nowhere. The snow was coming down faster than the street plows could keep up with, your hair drenched in a few minutes as another shiver ran through your whole body.

Hawkins was cold. Like, freezing. You always thought winter was winter, but they really took it to another level here in the Midwest.

The day still had a little light left in it, but darkness was fast approaching. You decided the smart thing to do was wait in the car and hope that somebody driving by would be able to help. Or pretend to help before murdering you. Well, you didn’t think walking on a fairly deserted road in the middle of a snowstorm when you had no idea which direction to go would produce better results. So, you waited.

And waited.

Oh god, you were gonna die here all alone. You never should’ve let Robin talk you into coming home with her for Christmas. You could be happily wrapped up in blankets in your climate-controlled apartment with a warm mug of eggnog right now.

Wait! The rum you bought for making eggnog with Robin.

You scramble to reach over the car’s middle console, hands rummaging through the paper bags on the floor in the back until you find the smooth glass neck of a bottle.

The rum burns your throat on the way down with the first swig, but the edge is taken off soon after with a couple more swallows – the familiar warmth settling into your skin once you’ve polished off about a quarter of the bottle. You curl up into your seat, tucking your legs into your coat and holding the bottle of rum close to your chest.

Distracted by the fuzzy feeling seeping into your head and thoughts of which picture of you they’d use to announce your death on the local news, you don’t notice the sound of a truck approaching or its headlights shining across the back of your car.

Maybe Robin will give them a good one of you on vacation together in The Bahamas last year. God, you wish you’d gone somewhere warm instead.

You almost jump out of your skin, letting out an involuntary squeak when someone knocks on your window. Barely making out the shape of a man with wild hair through the condensation that had fogged up the glass.

“You alright in there?”

Please don’t be a murderer, please don’t be a murderer, please don’t be a murderer.

You open the car door and step out on shaky legs, almost stacking it when your feet are swallowed by a much thicker blanket of snow than you were expecting. The man reaches out to steady you, his hands engulfing your forearms as you look up at your rescuer. Or potential downfall. A black beanie covers the top of his head but does little to protect the rest of his wild curls that fall across his shoulders from the still falling snow. You briefly take note of the blue coveralls with a name sewn in red thread across his heart, before you’re sucked in by the worried look in his brown doe eyes.

“Are you alright?”

You nod, stuttering when you try and speak, gesturing to the car behind you and then to the road. “I–the car, there was a–and then, the ice just sort of…”

The stranger straightens up, the warmth from his hands leaving you as he eyes you wearily, “You been drink driving?”

“What? No! God, no…I–I,” you take a deep breath, trying to compose the thoughts that were tumbling too fast out of your mouth. God, he was pretty. “After I realised I wasn’t going anywhere,” you point to the front of the car, barely visible from the snow piled around it, “I may have opened a bottle of rum to keep warm.”

He scoffs a little meanly, “You realise that’s not how it works right? You actually lose heat faster when you’re drunk.”

A tingling warmth crawls up your neck at his scolding and you shrug, “Well, I thought if I was gonna die I might as well do it with a good buzz.”

He squints at you, his stare stony and you can’t tell what you’ve done to warrant this level of offence from a total stranger. Was he helping you or not? “You’re not from around here are you?”

You straighten up reflexively, shoulders going back in defence, “What makes you say that?”

He gestures vaguely to all of you, “Well, apart from the fact that you ooze city girl,” you frown, “it’s a small town. I woulda remembered you if you grew up here.”

He didn’t say it with a smirk or a sly look at your body. You knew it wasn’t meant as a compliment. Not a ‘you’re so pretty I would’ve remembered you’ but a ‘you stand out in all the wrong ways’.

“Okay, um,” you look around and notice his truck parked behind him, disbelief painting your face when you turn back to him and take in the ‘Munson Motors’ patch on the other side of his name. “Would you be able to help me?”

He answers with a frown as if the question itself is offensive. He has a tow truck and you're stranded on the side of the road in below-zero conditions. Of course, he’s going to help you.

Eddie, goes straight to work hooking up your car to the back of his truck, pulling it out of the snowbank and parking off to the side of the road again as you stand out of the way and watch, shivering now that the freezing outside air has begun to sober you up.

When he jumps back out of the truck to check your car is secure, he clears his throat, speaking to you like he's continuing a conversation, “How long you been out here?”

Your breath catches in a cloud of condensation as you exhale. “What’s the time?”

He pulls back the blue fabric of his left sleeve to check his watch, “Quarter past six.”

“Oh, um…a couple of hours I think.” It had been 45 minutes.

He nods as he gives a chain one final tug. “Guess no one’s come past ‘cause it’d be dumb to drive around in these conditions.”

You had to hold back from reflexively rolling your eyes. Here comes the mansplain.

“You know, you really shouldn’t be driving without chains on your tires.”

You huff, “Well, it’s not my car and I was only popping out to the store to get some groceries…an–and I got lost and then a deer just–” You wave your hand across the road stumbling over your words as the stupidly pretty tow truck driver turns to you and raises his eyebrows. “Forget it.” You sighed, “Is the car gonna be alright?”

Eddie licks his bottom lip, his intense gaze starting to heat you up again as he slowly nods. “The car will be fine. I can drop you and it off if you’ve got an address for me in town.”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks.”

***

A sigh leaves you as the warmth of the truck cab engulfs you, the smell of tobacco and the black ice magic tree hanging from the rearview mirror, along with something woodsy surrounding you on the inhale.

“Where to?” Eddie plops himself into the driver’s seat, pulling out onto the road as you give him Robin’s parent's address.

The ride there is mostly quiet, aside from the low hum of a Black Sabbath song coming out of the speakers, and you get the feeling Eddie the tow truck guy doesn’t take well to city girls getting themselves into sticky situations on his roads. You’re starting to feel a little silly yourself as the rum buzz well and truly wears off. This was a little too damsel in distress-y for your liking. You were an independent woman for god sake, the best solution you could come up with was getting drunk before an incredibly well-timed, handsome local had to come to your rescue?

As soon as Eddie pulls up to the curb he’s jumping out of the truck, clearly not wanting to spend another minute in awkward silence. You were never really good at small talk.

It isn’t until the passenger side door slams behind you that you notice the yelling.

“Oh my god! I thought you were for sure dead!”

Robin almost knocks you onto the sidewalk when she slams into you.

“Oh, I was so worried! I kept telling my dad, I think I told her the wrong directions. I told you to turn right on Maple when you should have turned left–“Her arms flail about in the air as she rambles in a panic and you just smile at her.

“Rob, I’m fine. I got to the shops okay in the end, it was getting back that was the problem. Then this deer ran out in front of me and I lost control when I swerved.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I almost killed you. You haven’t even been in town a full day!” She squishes your cheeks in between her hands, and you laugh.

Once she’s satisfied that you’re okay, she turns to Eddie as he walks up to the both of you. “Thanks for bringing my girl back alive Munson.” Robin beams and you notice Eddie’s eyes darting between the both of you, things clicking into place before she tackles him with a hug.

“Nice to see ya Buckley.” You hear Eddie mumble something into Robin’s hair and she laughs.

Figures. He was that Eddie. The metalhead with a heart of gold. Fantasy nerd that you were “going to love.” Obviously, your mind hadn’t immediately associated the grumpy tow truck driver Eddie with the one you’d heard hundreds of stories about, the one that was supposed to be warm and quick to welcome outsiders. Maybe it was just you?

“The car’ll be fine. Might just take a little while to warm up next time you go to start it, but if you have any issues just drop it by the shop.” He speaks directly to Robin as if it were her that he’d just rescued from the side of the road.

She thanked him with an affectionate punch to the shoulder and you tried to catch his eye before he turned away.

“Thanks again, for uh–for your help.”

He just nods, eyes briefly making contact with yours before they flit away again and he walks back to his truck.

“Don’t let her get lost again. It’s only gonna get colder over the next week.” He shouts before he slams his door shut behind him.

You turn to Robin who’s cheerily waving him off.

“Cold-er? It gets cold-er?!”

***

5 Days 'Til Christmas

“This is ridiculous.” Condensation forms around your huffs of breath, Jack Frost nipping at the tip of your nose and cheeks as you pull your coat tighter around you, stumbling slightly on the icy ground.

“The only thing ridiculous is your dress sense.” Robin giggles, pausing to let you catch up with her, arm linking with your own as you cross the car park together.

“This is my favourite coat.” You pout.

She shakes her head, “I know it is. And I know how much it cost, but we need to get you something sturdier and some thermals or something.” Her free hand rubs the thin, expensive material on your shoulder.

“Maybe, we should just stop leaving the house.” You grumble, causing Robin to knock her shoulder against yours.

“C’mon! I know we’re meeting everyone in a couple of days, but when Steve told me Jonathan and Nance we’re going to be at the bar tonight as well I thought it’d be the perfect opportunity for you to meet the grown-ups first.”

“Aren’t the kids at college now?”

You’d learnt a lot about Robin’s chosen family over the years. Having met Steve multiple times when he came to visit her in the city and been regaled by countless stories of the trouble they’d all gotten up to in high school.

“Yeah, but they’re not legal drinking age yet and it’ll be much easier meeting everyone else without them around trust me.”

The Hideout definitely wasn’t anything like the bars you frequented in the city, and you couldn’t help thinking about where you were a week ago – an office Christmas party that involved two-hundred-dollar bottles of champagne and coke in the marbled bathrooms – as your weather inappropriate shoes found the sticky floor and your nose wrinkled involuntarily at the smell, eyes wandering over the small crowd of mostly old men hunched over their half-empty drinks.

“Charming,” you murmur, Robin’s arm tightening its hold on you upon seeing her best friend waving at the both of you across the room.

“Hey dingus,” She ruffles Steve’s hair as you approach the group sitting around a small wooden table.

“Hey numbnut.” He was quick to push his hair back, everything but a lonely strand falling back into perfect place. Robin took an empty chair, while Steve captured you in a much-needed embrace, greeting you warmly and without a childish nickname.

He kept an arm around your shoulder as he introduced you to the three other occupants of the table. You shake Nancy and Jonathan’s hand, smiling at the way they held each other, but when you hold out your hand to their friend Argyle he just laughs and gets up to hug you with a “Come here my lil’ city slicker.” The scent of pineapple and pot clinging to you as you take a seat while Steve heads to the bar to get you and Robin a drink.

“Where’s Eddie?”

The pang that jolts you at Robin’s casual mention of her friend’s name is slightly concerning.

“He’s over there with the guys.” You follow Jonathan’s gesture to a group of boys standing next to a makeshift stage at the far end of the bar. A tousle of brown waves in a leather jacket stands with his back to you with three others dressed much the same, all drinking beer and laughing. You couldn’t see his face, but even from here you notice his shoulders look more relaxed than he was during your encounter yesterday.

Maybe you’d get to see the “warm” Eddie now that he wasn’t having to haul your car out of the snow.

Steve returns to your table with drinks and takes the seat next to you, reaching over your shoulders to pinch Robin when she complains about hers not having enough ice before letting his arm relax around you. Steve had seamlessly fit himself into your life when you first met just as he always did in any situation, and you knew that he could sense your nerves about meeting the rest of the group. You just hoped he didn’t pick up on any nerves about the presence of one in particular.

“Nice of you to join us Buckley.”

You tense as Eddie appears at the table and Steve squeezes your shoulder, smirking into his drink.

Never fucking mind.

“Oh my god, you guys I have to tell you all about Eddie’s hero moment yesterday!”

As Robin captures the attention of the group with a dramatic retelling of yesterday’s events, your eyes wander to your reluctant rescuer. He was yet to acknowledge your existence, only rubbing his neck and blushing when praise was thrown his way. His attention is mostly on Robin’s theatrics before it shifts, and you notice his gaze land on something by your shoulder. You look down at Steve’s hand still resting there and when you look back up your eyes catch shining, dark chocolate ones.

You’re the first to break the spell, eyes quickly landing on the table, unable to hold his intense stare.

When Robin finishes her story you excuse yourself to get another drink, having nervously gulped yours down already and you pass Steve on your way back to the table.

“Hey, can you give these to Eddie? He’s just outside. I need to take a leak, thanks.” He walks away quickly, leaving you with a packet of cigarettes in your hand.

***

Eddie stands with his back to you, leaning against the brick of the bar as you exit the swinging door, a blast of arctic air hitting you as you immediately wrap your arms around yourself.

“Hey.”

He spins around at the sound of your voice.

“Uh, Steve said you needed to borrow a smoke?” You hold up the pack.

He stares at you for a second before he lifts an unlit cigarette in between his fingers.

“I’m all good. Bummed one off Gareth.”

You nod and shove the carton in your coat pocket.

“You smoke?”

“God no, I value my lungs. These are Steve’s.” You shake your head and Eddie raises his eyebrows, pausing in his motion to light the cigarette now pursed between his lips, the yellow flame from his scuffed bic lighter flickering in the chilled breeze.

He releases his thumb from the lighter, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and frowning at it.

“So uh, I didn’t expect you and Buckley to show up tonight.”

You grip your coat tighter around you, it’s far too cold to be out here but you’re pleasantly surprised that he’s initiating conversation with you. “Oh yeah, Robin dragged me out of the house to come see some lame band. Personally, I think it’s too cold to do anything other than drink tea under a pile of blankets but–“

“Robin said they were lame?”

“What?”

“The band playing here tonight, she said they were lame?”

“No, she just mentioned that they’re here every Tuesday,” you look up at the neon signage hanging above the door, missing a ‘d’ with a barely flickering ‘o’ and shrug, “I figured–“

“Hey, Ed!” One of the boys Eddie had been standing with earlier pops his head out of the bar door, giving you a curt nod when you turn around. “You ready? We’re on in two.”

“Yeah, just give us a sec.”

The boy disappears back behind the door and you screw your eyes shut. Of course it was his band.

“Shit, Eddie I’m sor–“

“You always just say things without thinking?” His arms are crossed, eyes squinting at you in that offended disbelief that seemed to be reserved just for you and your big mouth.

You sigh, “Only around you apparently.”

You swear you see the corner of his mouth twitch. “Why’s that city girl?”

The nickname could almost pass as a term of endearment, the way it comes out of him in a drawl if it wasn’t for your terrible first and second impressions preceding you.

You shake your head, “Never mind. I’m gonna–“ You point your thumb behind your shoulder, “Yeah,” and walk back inside before you manage to say anything else idiotic, Eddie grinning after your retreating form.

***

You watch Eddie thrash about on stage under the haze of a couple of shots, needing a little liquid courage before you could throw yourself back into socialising – at least you seemed to be getting along with the rest of the group.

His skin was glowing with sweat under the cheap yellow stage lights, leather jacket abandoned so you could now see the tattoos peaking out from under his tattered old band shirt. One that hugged his biceps as they flexed with the ferocity of his guitar playing. Holy shit.

When he jumps off stage and approaches his friends, you can’t take your eyes off the damp hair that sticks to his neck and forehead.

“You guys were amazing.”

He bows his head at your compliment. The two of you now slightly off to the side of the rest of the group as they figure out whose round it is. “Not lame then?”

“No,” you shake your head, “no, I shouldn’t have–that was shitty of me to judge without hearing you. To judge, full stop. I’m not like that normally. I know you think I’m just some city girl who’s completely out of touch but I’m just–I got a bit nervous about meeting you all and making a good impression for Robin. I’m sorry.”

He rubs the back of his neck, “S’nothin’ to apologise for. Not like we’re playing The Garden or anything.”

“That doesn’t matter.” You frown, “You’re great–I mean the band are great–I can tell that you all love playing up there no matter the audience. That’s what’s important.”

“Thanks.” His soft tone and doe eyes threaten to swallow you whole. You look away, burning up under his attention again.

“You’re welcome.”

“We’re playing pool now, I need you on my team c’mon.” Robin wraps her arms around you and drags you away before Eddie gets the chance to keep you talking.

***

“Wait, Steve! You’re not driving?” You cringe at Robin’s slurred volume as she shouts across the small car park, thankful this isn’t a residential area.

“Pfft no! I’ve had way too many. I’m going in Nance’s car.” She glares at her best friend as he follows Jonathan and Argyle, waving her off.

“How are we getting home?!” She raises her arms in exasperation and turns to you as if you’d be able to offer a solution, the creaking of the bar door opening behind you grabbing both of your attention as Eddie steps out. He stops short, car keys coming to a halt mid-swing when he notices eyes on him.

“Eddieeee.” Robin sing-songs, wrapping her arm around your shoulder. His eyebrow quirks up. “Fancy dropping off two gorgeous young girls and making sure they get home safe?” She leans her head into yours and you giggle.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Yeah whatever, get in.”

Robin turns away abruptly to head towards his van, leaving you to stumble without the support, Eddie’s warm hands brace your arms before you even have time to think.

“You good?”

You nod, “Had a lot to drink.”

He huffs a laugh as you sway, breath stuttering when you look up at him, “Yeah, you did.”

The snow that falls around you two lands softly on your face, melting in your hair and on your eyelashes as you crinkle your nose.

“It’s so cold.”

He licks his bottom lip, “Right, right let’s get you home yeah?”

***

Despite Robin’s clumsy nature she always manages to stay light on her feet when she’s drunk. So, by the time Eddie pulls up to the Buckley residence she’s shooting out of the van, cackling at her own joke while you’re still trying to undo your seatbelt. Eddie tells you to stay still before he jogs to the passenger side and unhooks you, holding onto your arm as you step down onto the ground on wobbly legs.

“Where’s Robin?” You look around, the front yard frosted in snow that’s warmed by yellow fairy lights hanging around the edges of the house, but noticeably void of your charmingly sassy friend.

“She’s already inside. Here, let me get you to the door.”

His hands help steady you, guiding you to safety up the icy path, one stretching over your lower back the other holding your elbow. You hadn’t noticed his rings before now, silver glinting under the lights now directly above you as you walk up to the front porch. These hands adorned in skulls seemed to keep coming to your rescue. But you don’t need some hot tow truck, sexy guitarist guy coming to your rescue. You’re a capable, independent woman.

You feel Eddie’s breath on the back of your neck when he laughs softly.

“You think I’m sexy huh?”

You frown as you stop at the front door, shaking your head “What, why would you think that?”

“’Cause you just said it.”

“Out loud?!”

He snickers as you bury your face in your hands, “I have to stop drinking around you.”

Eddie bites his lip as you slip through the front door mumbling a good night and close it behind you without another glance at his smug face. He’s still smiling as he turns the ignition, the radio on low as Fairytale of New York fills his van with warmth. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head before pulling away from the curb, this fuzzy feeling in his chest not something that’s familiar to him.

“Fuck.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #stranger things au #stranger things fanfiction #towtruck!eddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #promptparty #she writes

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