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Based on this wonderful art of @puppetmaster13u for the dollhouse au!
It had been a long day, and was destined to be even longer.
The original plan had been bad enough; the league had a media conference planned for three o'clock, one that involved foreign presence and thus required pristine presentation.
Then, as all perfectly good plans that could have been left alone by the universe did, it was derailed by a villain attack or several. He said several because it seemed almost a dozen separate villains had individually had the bright idea of sabotaging the well publicised event. Though they'd failed, the accidental collaboration had done what each alone could not, and now the league was dragging themselves to base to hurriedly patch up the thankfully minor wounds and try and rush to meet the deadline.
Each league member on the list had a formal version of their usual super suit - flash's main change had been a bowtie before it met almost unanimous disapproval, and on the other end of the effort spectrum was Bruce. Not of his own will - he quite envied Flash's staunch faith in the single black bowtie - but he not only had been raised for the fast and critical world of the upper class, but was currently in a metal plated marionette held together by glue and screws and wires, which meant changing attire was more of a debacle than it would ordinarily be.
He flipped open the toolkit with the best approximation of a sigh the doll body could manage. The chest inflated and deflated, which was in fact a rather worrying sign because it wasn't supposed to be able to do that. He grabbed a screwdriver and a pit of tar glue and approached the mirror. He'd just have to go into the globally broadcast meeting stinking of sulphur... Perhaps he could borrow perfume from one of the girls, cologne combined dreadfully.
The chest cavity opened with little tugging, and he held one side in place as he attacked the bent hinges. An odd feeling, for sure. He took a hammer to the dent, imagining it was the penguin's face and praying Clark didn't decide now was the time to approach him on his self soothing metalworking hobby. He'd been entrusted with the override code for the door and Bruce was now quietly regretting that.
The chest cavity doors creaked back into place, which enabled him to finally pull out the costume change for the evening and dump it on the side.
Now for the leg, having been crushed under a tank penguin had smuggled into Gotham. It now bent the wrong way, and hiding it under his cloak had been a pain, but at least it hadn't come off -
There it went. Batman watched, almost despondent, as it toppled free of his body and crashed to the ground. The unhappy static that raced up his spine at the sight was expected - he'd be paying for the lack of care for the Patriarch Doll in nightmares tonight.
Joy.
He tipped into the nearby stool and kicked the lost limb closer with his remaining foot, squinting. Just a cracked screw and torn spring at the knee, thank goodness. He'd have it fully attached again within the hour.
But he was pretty sure he couldn't bend that far over without his jaw falling off, so face it was.
Hood off, wires unlaced under the chin, hidden screws loosened. The gas mask came off. The velcro on top of his head took good old fashioned yanking, but eventually peeled off with reluctant crackling, revealing the unpainted grey metal beneath.
As expected, his jaw was almost entirely loose, unable to close now without the structure of the mask. The nutcracker mouth in the lower jaw fell to tap against his throat, leaving either side of the actual lower jaw to hang in the air. Experimentally, he opened and closed his mouth, and watched all three parts swing and clink like a robot body horror wind-chime.
This was going to need a finer touch, and so he stripped off his gloves to access the sharp points of his talons - capped while with the league to keep the prick of steel rending claws to a mere suggestion.
He felt bared, now, all his top layer removed and abandoned, the door to his room at his back. He feels the paranoia to double check the lock, reassures himself that even if he'd somehow forgotten in his haste to hide away none of the members were mad enough to try and get in. Outside Superman, of course, but he always knocked.
Still, he hurried through repairs, running diagnostics in the back of his mind as he daubed glue into the cracks and set about restructuring his own jaw. Ears swivelled. Neck rolled. Glider snaps curled.
The jaw pieces were setting nicely when there was a noise at the door, and batman whipped around, cloak flaring behind him. The pliers dropped from suddenly weak fingers.
Captain marvel stood in the doorway, eyes wide as he took in the room, face pale as he saw Batman propped up in middle, bare of his many obfuscating layers. Black tar speckled his lap, wires hung free like veins, blank eyes glowed, his jaw gaping, skinless. Glinting claws and spikes in full view, a limb discarded on the floor like garbage. His chest a dark hole, void of organs, of machinery, of anything that could make him run. A decades old terror gripped his heart.
HE SAW!
Both froze. Time stretched interminably.
The captains chest heaved for a scream, and batman was moving before he knew it, grabbing his fallen leg and lunging.
Captain marvel fell with a crack. Batman caught himself on the door. Five seconds before short term memory entered long term, had he reacted in time?
Hm.
He considered the body of the champion of magic laid in front of him, idly rebalancing the eternal tally graph of potential energies the dolls might run on in the back of his head and as always coming up none the wiser. This was a very inconvenient place for a body. Perhaps he could nudge marvel into the hallway to wake up. He glanced up and down the empty corridor, staying out of view of the camera.
Maybe he had overreacted slightly.
Bonus:
Billy and Green Lantern sat in the monitor room, ostensibly on duty but really checking out the watchtower camera feeds of the day before. Lantern was pointing at the screen.
"Here," he said, with a glee Billy didn't honestly appreciate. "Look at that. You go down like a sack of bricks and then -" he clicked forward two frames, "- this silver hand thing appears on the door frame. Look at that, that's a proper horror movie hand curl. The claws! Just missing the glint of a blood covered axe appearing from the shadows."
Billy shuddered, but couldn't help moving closer.
"What do you think it was? Can't have been batman, right?"
"You were there, you tell me." Lantern patted him on the shoulder before he could retort. "I mean, doesn't look much like him. Doesn't really have claws and his are black anyway. Pretty sure his gloves are sewn into his skin at this point."
"I didn't need that mental image," Billy said, because he really didn't.
"Could be another Robin variant? Like that black bat thing?"
"Dunno. I mean, unlikely. Maybe it was batman. Maybe he can shapeshift a little."
"We've had that on the list of possible powers for ages, still nothing firm one way or the other."
"It probably is batman -"
"But the claws -"
They trailed off.
"We'll just add it to the list. I'll save the file, hang on. We can talk about it at the do next week - you're coming right?"
"Yeah, but I've got, uh... A diplomacy thing with the yetis at nine, so I'll have to bail then."
"You always have the weirdest personal missions. Hey, maybe you can ask them about batman, pffft. Maybe he's one of them."
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realistic sex with yunho
yunho x f!reader
fluff | smut | mdni
a/n: our big puppy boy yunho is the next entry to this series where i try to imagine how each member would actually fuck, as ✨realistically✨ as possible.
disclaimer: i say realistic but lets be honest this is pure delulu behaviour and total fiction. everything is solely based on the vibes the boys give off.
yunho is the kind of man that knows exactly what he wants. so when he got to know you he knew instantly he wanted you. maybe he didn’t know right away he wanted to pursue a romantic relationship with you but he definitely knew he wanted to explore this as a possibility
yunho goes to people he’s compatible with, therefore there's no awkward first stage. he pursues you but is never annoying or pressing but he's not a smooth talker either (he can be though) he just puts you at ease. he makes sure you feel comfortable around him and lightens the mood often with funny comments and little jokes or even silly faces.
basically makes you laugh all the time.
the goofball™
that's how you fell for him without even noticing. because you were just laughing all the way through enjoying spending time with your friend until he was way more than this.
getting together with him was so natural that at some point the lines got a little blurry and when you finally asked what you guys were he looked at you with big round puppy eyes
"what kind of question is that you're? you're my girlfriend, silly" was his response. to him it was so obvious that he didn't even need to label your relationship. to his defense he's been sure about you since that first day he made you laugh for real. not the polite controlled laugh but snorting laugh you could be self conscious about. but to him it's the single most endearing thing about you.
he loves that side of you and that he's known for quite a while. the man doesn't hesitate and doesn't beat around the bush
(aries much? yes very)
overall yunho is very gentle maybe because of his height but he's very much conscious of his body and strength and he's not the kind to accidentally hurt you when you play fight
and that's how you know than when he does hurt you. he means it. (more on that later hehe)
many people assume that since yunho is like tall tall that's he has a size kink. I am a firm believer that he actually doesn't. he knows he's tall, he doesn't need the size kink ego boost. but you know who has a size kink? san!
ofc if you're into it yunho will be more than happy to tap into it calling you little and bending you're tiny body in various position where he will look and feel huge over you just to make you shake and whine for him <3
the main thing that gets yunho's blood boiling is very simple: control.
well that's now that he is comfortable with you. because the first time you were intimate i feel like he was very very shy and you even thought it was cute how he got flustered the first time he saw you undress for him or how blushy he got the first time you told him how big he was (more big cock!yunho down below heheheheheh)
but as soon as he became comfortable the golden retriever boy vibe was out of the window as soon as you stepped in the bedroom.
yunho is a dom. plain and simple.
what he wants is for you to submit. he's not even necessarily the mean dom type (he def can be though) he's just the kind that would enjoy for you to be blindfolded or other kind of sensory deprivation or even bounded (if you're into that) he will go absolutely crazy for that
he would enjoy controlling you, getting you to lie down blindfolded and having you be completely at his mercy. He would trace his big hands across your nude skin and leave goose bumps scattered on your body, making you shiver with light touches just to get your blood boiling. He loves to see you pant and squirm with just a few touches. He’s the kind to tease like this until you have no choice but to beg him for more.
there only the real fun would begun skdlsklslkdls
most of the time yunho is making love to you. he doms you but he’s gentle, he whispers words of affirmation in your ear and is very attentive to your queues. he is very observant and will know when to stop/slow down/keep going. and particularly when he penetrates you. Since he's like big big. he always makes sure to go real slow. the one first stroke is always slow and deep, he pushes his big fat cock into you very slowly so you have time to adapt to him. and how he loves to see your lips go round when he bottoms out and his cock comes to kiss your cervix. h absolutely loves to hear your little gasps.
but most of the time you don’t take too long because he already prepped you with a nice session of fingering (and maybe one orgasm or two hehe). yunho doesn't have a hand kink himself but if you have one (if you are a yunho stan lets be honest here you have one lol) he will ABSOLUTELY TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THAT. at first it always starts as a joke to tease you. he knows how much you like his hands and he just loves to tease. at first he just strokes your thighs just to look at you hold your breath and ogling how his hand wraps perfectly around your thigh and how his veins pop out on his forearms when he squeezes your thigh a little. he plays it off as if he’s just minding his business pretending he’s unware of the effect he has on you but when you catch on to his teasing and playfully hit him he just throw his head back and laughs with that crystal clear laugh and creased eyes that made you fall for him. (he's just so cute and handsome and cute and handsome and slkdlskdlkdk)
but then his hand goes back to your thighs but with more purpose, it goes higher on your thighs closer to your center earning a little whimper from you and suddenly this sound makes him forget about the joke altogether. now he pushes his fingers inside your mouth, smirking when you instinctively wrap your mouth around them and suck on them while moaning, eyes fluttering close.
he presses his other hand to your clothed core and just rubs you there until you lose your mind before you are even undressed
“you like that baby? you like my fingers in your mouth?” "what's that baby? you want them somewhere else too" *snickers cockily* "so eager" “thats it baby make them nice and wet for me so the slide right in your pretty little pussy”
before you know it he pushes two long fingers inside you making your back arch against his broad chest and broken cries fall off your lips.
one other thing: like i said mingi like to be praised and yunho likes to praise you (thats why yungi is match made in heaven)
he loves to see your reactions every time he praises you.
“that’s my good girl” “baby you feel so good around me” “look at you taking my big cock, you’re doing so great for me”
of course that is interlaced with low groans and pants because i don’t think he’s the type to scream and moan a lot but he’s definitely not the type to keep all the beautiful sounds he can make to himself.
also like i mentioned in other parts of this series yunho is the jealous type. i think possessive even. but like contrary to hongjoong (who would just be upfront about it, confronting the person that hits on you) yunho is more subtle. if he sees you flirting with someone else he would come up behind you and wrap his arm around your waist, throw a defying (and ravaging) smile to his rival. but that’s the thing with yunho. his authority comes from within. he doesn’t even need to use brute force to get his point across he doesn’t need to raise his voice. everything is in the aura. nothing scarier than a mad and angry golden retriever energy boy.
as soon as the opponent taps out yunho is pushing you to a more secluded spot at your current location. If it’s a party it might be a bathroom or an unoccupied room. if it’s a mall it might be a quiet corner of the parking lot. truthfully he doesn’t care because right now he sees red and he needs to remind you that you are his. his only.
he would push you up against the cold concrete wall of the parking lot behind two big cars to be sure no one else can lay their eyes on you and overstim you out in the open until you can’t take it anymore. making you cum on his fingers and cock over and over again until you beg him to stop and he demands an apology from you which you comply to immediately in broken moans and sobs chanting 'sorry’s' and 'i wont do it again’s' until he’s satisfied.
but that is only if you piss him off. so dont piss him off (or do)
i feel like he almost 100% of the times finishes inside you. He just loves to stuff you full and hopefully make you a mom someday (even though he doesn't say it) so he considered this practice for when you are both ready
he loves for you to cockwarm him to sleep after he’s fucked your brains out and you both sleep cuddled up into each other <33333
screaming into the void because how cute (and incredibly hot) can one man be????
BONUS: tw: feet (don't read if it makes you uncomfy <3). idk if my brain’s chemistry was permanently altered by all the memes about this but i have started to believe yunho is actually into feet (yeah boo me if u wanna) when you think about it foot fetish is one of the most common one literally the most vanilla flavored kink ever (i don't make the rules) so it’s not impossible and i dont think it’s improbable. so here you go for this bonus: i feel like yunho likes the mating press for this very reason. because that way with your thighs pressed to your chest he gets to see your feet. when he pounds into you and he feels he’s close he would take hold of your foot and bring it to his face, heavily breathing and panting, getting your toes into his mouth and groan as he fills you up full of cum. one other way he likes to include some feet play is just to get a foot job, he would press both your feet together fuck his fat and mighty cock right between them. and nothing gets him more feral than to do that before he takes you and fucks your tight little cunt. you like the way he ruts into your feet because every time he does he sounds more rough, more primal then ever and you just think that's a good look on him. (not to mention he gets so worked up it’s guaranteed that he’s going to wreck your whole word right after) <3
IF U WANNA HELP ME PLEASE REBLOG WITHOUT USING THE COMMUNITY LABELS 🖤
want to see another member? request it in the comments or asks <3
realistic sex with seonghwa, with mingi, with wooyoung | ateez masterlist | navigation
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⋆。˚❆˚ 。⋆ Tinsel ⋆。˚❆˚ 。⋆
A/N: all I gotta say is..WHEN IS IT MY TURN DAMMIT 🥲
joel deserves nice things™ ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
~word count: 4.9k~
pairing | boyfriend! Joel Miller x f! reader
Summary: it’s Christmas and we’re all in misery, but your Texas hunk of a boyfriend makes sure that this holiday season you feel loved.
Warnings: fluff, smut, angst, mommy issues for the reader, typical holiday angst, readers mother is a bitch, mentions of smoking and consuming alcohol, unprotected piv, dom/sub vibes, fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, orgasm denial, cock warming, light ass slapping, unconditional love, Sarah and Ellie exist in this universe (Ellie is adopted) best friend! Tommy, close family vibes, soft! Joel, protective! Joel, Tommy is like a big brother to the reader, reader has no physical descriptions, there is one scene where Joel picks the reader up, no age gap, Christmas traditions, +18, minors dni! Please let me know if I missed anything!
“Hey, babe?” You chimed from the living room. Both hands on your hips as you peered up at your beautifully decorated Christmas tree. “Do you think the tree could use some more tinsel?”
Your boyfriend, Joel Miller was in the kitchen with Sarah and Tommy who were on cookie duty, while Joel was crafting together the best goddamn gingerbread house your mother would ever see in her lifetime. (You hoped)
“Here she goes again with the tinsel.” Sarah giggled, gently nudging her uncle with her elbow.
Joel gave his daughter a playful warning glare before picking up a dusting of flour between his fingers and threw it at her with a grin. “Be nice, baby girl. Y’know how her mom is with this stuff. Everythin’ has gotta be perfect.”
“I’ll be there in just a sec, honey!” He called back, brushing his flour coated hands on his apron and retreated from the kitchen while Tommy and Sarah snickered.
“I still think we should add more tinsel, Joel. Maybe more ornaments? If she sees a single bald spot on the tree—” you’re caught off guard from bare, broad arms wrapping around your waist from behind. His aquiline nose brushes the exposed bit of skin along your neckline. He inhales deeply, smelling of cinnamon, clove, and ginger with a hint of Joel.
“Baby,” he rasps warm and deep, lips pressing to your warmed skin with affectionate sweetness. “The tree is gorgeous. I don’t see any bald spots.” A gentle squeeze to your hips, followed by another peck.
“But—” your voice falls short.
You melt back into his arms the way that marshmallows do in steaming hot chocolate. Pliant in his hold, suppressing a giggle when the scratchy bits of his patchy beard gently scrape your skin.
“But nothin’, baby. How about you help frost the cookies, hm? Get your mind off this damn tinsel.” You feel his lips curve into a smile along your skin. His chuckle vibrates up his chest and through your sweater covered spine. His hands drop from your hips, settling against the curve of your back, fingertips slipping into the denim pockets.
Cheeky.
A grumbled sigh from your lips, agreement, for the time being. The topic of tinsel would be brought up again. Your hand floated upwards towards his face, fingertips ghosting the patchy spots that you loved to press hidden kisses to. A finger hooks around his jaw, pulling him downwards to meet you in a kiss.
He obliges to your silent request. His nose brushes yours eliciting a sweet giggle to pass through your parted lips. The sounds of Santa Baby drowns out in the background. White noise compared to the steady thumping of yours and Joel’s synchronized hearts.
“I’ll be bringing up the tinsel again, Joel.” You murmur through the palpable warm tension.
“I know you will, darlin’” he tuts playfully, “But shh. Less talkin��, baby. Kiss me, doll.” He all but demands. The gap between you is closed. He kisses you sweetly, squeezing your flesh below the denim fabric. You swat playfully, melting once more when his tongue swipes your lower lip, testing—
“Ain’t hearin’ much talkin’ goin’ on in there!” Tommy remarks from the opening of the kitchen. Smirk plastered.
It’s Joel’s turn to grumble. A hint of annoyance on his breath. He breaks away from the kiss begrudgingly, but not before he can whisper just for your ears to hear, “we’ll finish this later.” Shortly followed by an encouraging pat to your jean clad ass, and a nudge towards the kitchen.
“These cookies ain’t gonna frost themselves!”
“Relax, brother. We’re coming!” Joel shoots you a wink with a suggestive tilt of his chin in your direction. The simple action alone sends a wave of arousal gushing through the thin fabric of your panties. A jolt, like a bolt of lighting.
4 years of dating your Texas hunk, and the sparks were still flying.
Sarah and Tommy both give you and Joel a cheeky little grin once you appear in the kitchen. An apron is tossed in your direction. Your eyes roll playfully with a shake of your head.
Joel returns to his gingerbread house making when you realizing that there’s one more member missing. “Is Ellie still asleep?” You ask while glancing at the clock along the wall.
“Must be. I’ll go and drag her out of bed.” Joel announced. He untied his apron and laid it flat across the table. He brushed past you on his way out of the kitchen.
Ellie Miller was in fact still dead asleep when he quietly pushed open her bedroom door. “Ohh Jelly Bean.” He cooed, using her least favorite nickname purposely.
A pillow was tossed carelessly in his direction with the intent to hit him, but Joel was ready for it and ducked out of the way. “C’mon, baby girl. It’s half past 10 and we could really use your help downstairs.” Joel said while reaching for the comforter to yank back.
“Can’t the cookies frost themselves? Y’know how I feel about the holidays, Dad.” She grumbled with her face squished into her pillow.
“Mhm. I sure do. Just a buncha commercialized crap around a jolly big ole’ fat man that breaks into people's houses, steals their cookies, and leaves crap under the tree. The only cool part of Santa Claus is his reindeer.” Joel said monotonically.
“You’re forgetting the bit where Rudolph is the coolest because of—”
“His bright shinin’ red nose. See, I remember these things, kiddo. Now, please get on up and help us out. If you don’t wanna frost the cookies, then you can help me finish with the gingerbread houses. Fair deal?” Joel crossed his arms against his chest while he awaited her response.
Ellie let out a long, dramatic sigh before she slowly pulled herself up into a sitting position. “Yeah, yeah. Okay. I’ll come down and help out.” She grumbled.
“Thank you, grinchy.” He said teasingly while she shot him a playful glare. “There’s coffee downstairs too, if ya want any.”
Her nose turned upwards as she let out a disgusted sound. “Gross. Y’know how I feel about that stuff. It’s nasty. Smells like burnt shit. Don’t know how you drink that crap.” She grimaced.
“Hot chocolate?” He suggested with a warm grin.
“Now we’re talkin.’” She grinned.
Once the cookies were properly frosted, and the two gingerbread houses were fashioned, it was time for a well deserved break. Tommy volunteered to take Sarah and Ellie out sledding and then lunch while Joel stayed back to help you clean the kitchen.
Your boyfriend had his own idea of ‘cleaning’ and taking a break. You had just started the dishes when you felt his warm presence envelop and invade your senses. His strong arms were wrapped around you once more, and the tip of his broad nose was pressed into your neck, curls tickling your cheekbones.
“Have you come to help me with washing duty, baby?” You asked softly when his lips pressed an opened mouth kiss to your exposed skin. You learned very quickly early on in your relationship that Joel Miller was a lover, and a giver. He always needed to be close to you in some way.
“Mhm. I have, honey. But, I was hopin’ I could make you feel good first. I think the dishes can wait. Don’t you?” He nuzzled against you, thumbs slipping through the front pockets of your jeans.
“Joel..” you warned.
“Please, baby. I know the holiday season gets you all wound up. Let me help you relax, and then I will do the dishes and finish cleaning up here. Afterwards, you and I can settle in for a well deserved nap. How’s that sound?”
How did you get so lucky?
“You’re so good to me, baby. I suppose we can—” your words become lodged in your throat when his teeth graze your delicate skin. He nibbles playfully, knowing just how to get his girl going. His fingers toy with the button on your jeans before he pops it open.
“You’re my girl, ain’t ya? I live for makin’ you happy and feelin’ good. I love you very much, darlin.’ And I’ll be damned if this time of the year beats you down again.” He whispers while pulling down the zipper swiftly. His unoccupied hand slips under your sweater where he can feel your stomach clench inwards, the quickness of your breath while he splays his long, rugged fingers across your skin.
(If you ain’t dating a proper cowboy yet, then what the hell are you doin?’)
You allow yourself to indulge and melt into his grasp when his hand slips beneath the confines of your jeans, and below your panties. His broad fingers stroke gently between your folds, gathering up the slickness that has pooled there from this morning’s earlier interaction.
“Talkin’ of tinsel really gotcha goin,’ huh baby? Or was it the way that your handsome boyfriend was talkin’ to ya? Is that what got your pretty little pussy drippin?’” He purrs and your knees nearly buckle. Your Joel has never been shied away from dirty talk, and he knows how much you love it when filth drips from between his perfect lips.
You laugh, and it’s music to his ears whenever you let your guard down around him. Your head falls back ceremoniously against his shoulder, admiring his side profile through fluttered lashes. “It definitely wasn’t the damn tinsel, that’s for sure.”
“Thought so.” He mused with a rumbling deep chuckle. He’s acutely aware of your budding desperation taking the front and center stage when your hips buck upwards into his palm. “Someone’s a bit eager, hm? Want me to stretch this pretty pussy apart with my fingers, baby? S’that what my sweet girl wants?”
“Mhmm.” Is really all you’re able to get out because your mind is swirling, intoxicated with your boyfriend, and his goddamn hands that know how to play you to ruin. A flush rises to your cheeks, skin burning red hot like embers in a fire when his lips ghost the shell of your ear, sending a warm chill down every vertebrae in your spine.
“Can’t hear ya, honeybun. Gonna need ya to speak up for me.” His fingers dip down lower, teasing your tight wet hole that pulses around nothing, feeling empty and neglected thus far. His teeth bite down on your lobe, tugging it down playfully and elicit a desperate little mewl to slip past your lips.
“Fingers, daddy. Now. Please.” Your requests come out scrambled, misconstrued, but audible nonetheless. He seems pleased enough with your response and slowly sinks in two of his thick digits; ring and middle knuckle deep inside of your pulsing cunt. His hand encasing your entire mound while his thumb finds your clit with ease, curling his fingers inwards in a ‘come hither’ motion.
“Fuuck.” You moaned, wanton, depraved, love drunk on your Texas hunk.
His non-dominant hand that was presently resting along your stomach drops down. It takes him all of 5 seconds to tug your jeans down over your ass and thighs, exposing your bare skin to the room temperature air. His hand massages your supple flesh, curving against your spine before pulling back and returning with one firm smack to your left cheek that echoes through the expanse of the kitchen. “‘Atta girl.” He praises you lovingly, massaging the irritated skin before he delivers another smack, harder this time. It’s just enough to send you jolting forward into his hand, crying out his name.
The muscles in his bicep flex under the natural light flooding in through the kitchen windows. His fingers pump in and out, in and out. The mixed sounds of your pleasure, and your cunt squelching around his fingers sends blood flowing southwards to his hardening cock. You feel the press of him against your lower back when you reach around, fingers blindly searching till they find their home against the bulge in his jeans.
He grunts, lower lip taken harshly between his teeth, the speed of his wrist movements increase when you stroke him through the tight confines. You can feel all of him through the fabric, and you’re prideful that his desperately hard cock is just for you.
“Gonna fuck yourself against my fingers, baby? Gonna use me to get yourself off?” He questions hastily, breath shuddering when he finds himself grinding his hips in your hand with a need to satiate the building friction.
“Yes, daddy.” You whimper, mouth falling open in an ‘o’ shape when his fingers kiss that spongy spot that has you seeing stars. You’re so close, nearly at the edge when his fingers slip out, leaving you abandoned before his bending down and hoisting you over his shoulder like a rag doll.
His steps are calculated and precise carrying you up the stairs to your shared bedroom. He tosses you on the bed in a playful manner, lips finding yours in a chaste kiss while his hands tug your jeans down completely, followed by your panties. “Couldn’t wait any longer to be inside ya, baby” his words fall like whispers against your lips. You reach for his belt, undoing it with that sweet giggle that he loves so much.
He licks into your mouth like a man starved when you finally release him from his confines. His cock springs free, slapping against his stomach. His lips detach, a string of saliva connecting you to him before he plops down beside you on his back.
“We don’t even need to fuck, honey. Jus’ wanna be inside ya. Take a nap with my cock keepin’ you stuffed full.” He’s vulgar, greedy when he reaches for you. You melt like putty, sticky and sweet, and dripping.
“I love keeping your cock warm, daddy. Almost as much as I love it when you send me to a new dimension.” You murmur, settling against his chest. Your hand reaches down between your bodies, grasping his length and guiding it to your opening. A combined sweet sigh when he eases himself inside of you.
“So fuckin’ perfect for me. Warm, wet, huggin’ me s’tight.” He sounds drunk now too. His grin is lazily, placid when your eyes meet in a loving gaze. His hips shift beneath you, bottoming out, filling, stretching, while you pull him in.
His chin dips down, capturing your lips once more. It’s probably one of his favorite things to do, kissing you. Lips that he believes were made for him. A peck to your nose follows, teeth nibbling, giggles, sweet sounds.
“Joel?” You ask through the domestic calmness that shelters you both.
“Mhmm?” He rumbles, words rolling slowly against his tongue.
“I love you.”
His arms shift to wrap around you, holding you close. Heartbeats entwined. “I love you too, baby doll. And no matter what happens this Christmas, you’re perfect to me. No matter what your mother thinks, or says, you’re perfect.”
“Did you knit these ghastly things yourself?” Your mother criticizes the sweaters you knitted for yourself, Joel, Tommy, Ellie, and Sarah. It was your first big knitting project. A daunting task at first, but the old ladies at the senior center you volunteered at were both charming, and helpful.
“Yes, mother. I knitted them myself.” Her words hurt, but that’s what champagne spritzers are for. You take a hefty sip from your champagne flute.
“Well, the pattern is all wrong, dear.” She drops the sleeve of your sweater with a sigh. “Your home looks lovely, by the way, but your tree could use more tinsel. I noticed five bald spots when I first walked in.” She has no idea how many hours you spent decorating the tree in the living room, the mantles, outside in the front yard. You worked tirelessly with your family, and she still had the audacity to say something negative about it.
You fake a smile, catching a glance from your Texas hunk who is preoccupied in the kitchen with making sure that dinner is absolutely perfect.
“Thank you for the compliment, mother. Can I get you more champagne?” You ask, hoping that you can just take a breather finally.
“Oh, thank you dear, that would be lovely. Where’s that boyfriend of yours, Joe?” She waved her wrist carelessly, bracelets chiming in your ears. Even after four years, your mother still didn’t call your boyfriend by his real name.
“His name is Joel, mother. And he’s in the kitchen with his brother who is helping him with dinner.” You respond flatly.
“Joe. Joel, what’s the difference?” She doesn’t get it. She never does, and never will.
“Mother, it’s rude. He’s my boyfriend of almost five years, and you can’t even bother to remember his name?” You’re on the edge of snapping. It's not fair that your mother thinks that just because her husband divorced her that she gets to make everyone close to her miserable too.
“He’s still your boyfriend? Well, by now I surely would think that you’d be engaged and married. Who in their right mind plays house with a man for almost five years? Dear, have I taught you nothing?”
Tears prick the corner of your eyes from the blow of her words. You and Joel never felt like you needed to get married. It was just a piece of paper, shared finances, social status that neither of you cared for. You loved each other, you loved Sarah and Ellie, and viewed Tommy like a brother. Wasn’t that enough?
“Excuse me, mother, while I go top off your glass.”
She doesn’t see the glassy look in your eyes when you snatch the flute from her. Your footsteps carry you directly to the kitchen. For a brief moment you think about tossing the glass into the sink and letting the crystal shatter, but you opt to set it down on the counter.
Joel and Tommy are watching you closely from a distance. You’re visibly upset, and no fake smile can hide that.
I just need a breather.
The air is chilly, and the sky is clear with twinkling stars. Your tears glisten under the Christmas lights hanging above the front step when you hear the front door open and close. You move quickly to douse out the lit cigarette that is pursed between your painted lips, feeling a twinge of shame from a habit you couldn’t quite break.
“You don’t gotta hide that on my account, sweetheart.” Tommy said softly with his hands shoved in his jean pockets.
“I just..needed something to take the edge off.” You know that there’s no reason to explain yourself to him, or anyone for that matter. Tommy’s been your best friend for years, and he was the one that introduced you to Joel in the first place.
“I get it. Family can be real assholes sometimes, huh? It’s like that one scene in National Lampoon’s where the wife says, “it’s Christmas and we’re all in misery.” He chuckles.
“Yeah, and the misery is my mother.” You scoff and offer him your cigarette.
“Ah. What did she have to say this time around?” He asks while taking the cigarette between your fingers and bringing it against his lips.
“What didn’t she have to say?” You stifled a bitter laugh. “Five bald spots on the tree. The sweaters I knitted are ghastly, and she refuses to call Joel by his real name. Oh, and the cherry on top? She thinks I’m naive for ‘playing house with a man who isn’t even my husband.’”
“Bald spots? Where? The sweaters you made us are adorable, and what a bitch. I swear, that woman grows more callous every year. Who cares if you and Joel aren’t married? What’s it any of her business to do in your private life? You’re happy, aren’t you? She’s jus’ bein’ bitter cus’ you got a man that loves you unconditionally, and her husband left her.” Tommy finishes off what is left of the cigarette before he douses it out with the toe of his boot.
More tears begin to freely fall when you begin to fold in on yourself. “I love that man so fucking much, Tommy. He makes me so unbelievably happy and I just wish she could support me. To be my mother for once in her goddamn life and not this jealous..entity.” You sniffled.
“Oh, honey, it’s Christmas time and tears are not allowed!” Tommy attempted to joke, but when he saw just how upset you were, he switched gears and wrapped you up in his arms. “She’ll never understand, unfortunately. But that’s her loss. She could be real happy for you, and Joel, if she wanted to. But jealous people miss out on those happy moments I’m afraid. She refuses to be happy, and that ain’t have anythin’ to do with you, sweet pea.” He reassured you.
What Tommy really wanted to tell you, but couldn’t say, was that soon enough he’d be your brother in law, and your Texas hunk was going to ask you to marry him, to be his wife, at the stroke of midnight tonight when all the guests would retire home.
“You’re right, Tommy. You’re absolutely right. She’s choosing to be unhappy for me. That’s her choice, not mine. And you know what? Fuck her. She doesn’t get to hold this over me. I’m happy, and I refuse to let her ruin that for me.” You hug him back tightly.
“‘Atta girl. Now, let’s get back inside before my brother starts worryin’ more than he already has. I’ll entertain your mother so that you can have a break. How’s that sound?”
“Really? You’ll do that for me? Thank you, Tommy. I appreciate it.”
“Anytime, sweetheart. I’ll get her all liquored up.” He jokes with a playful wink.
Your lips peck his cheek in a non-romantic gesture. Tommy has always been your rock.
Dinner surprisingly runs smoothly, and you no longer have to deal with your mother because Tommy is talking up a storm with her, and she actually..smiles? Maybe it was just the champs.
Your Texas hunk is seated beside you with his hand resting along your thigh underneath the table. His thumb is rubbing reassuring circles against the silky fabric of your tights. He checks in with you between bites, silent glances, softened eyes. God, you loved this man.
Ellie, Sarah, and Joel helped you with the dishes while Tommy drove your cousin home. He had a crush on her for years, and finally grew a pair to make it known. Your mom, thankfully, went home with your aunts.
It was nearing midnight when Joel returned from upstairs after saying goodnight to the girls and wishing them sweet dreams. He found you curled up in the loveseat next to the fireplace, deep in thought with a half drunk glass of wine resting alongside the table. The rim of the glass was coated in a residue of your lipstick that had long since rubbed off.
“Is there room for me there?” He gestured to the loveseat with a small grin.
Your eyes met his in a soft gaze, and a subtle nod. And when you start to rise from the cushion, he stops you and instead lifts your thighs up gently before scooting in behind you so you’re draped across his lap comfortably.
“Are the girls asleep?” You ask as his hand rests around your hip.
“Mhm. Jus’ you and me, baby.” He replies with a swipe of his lips against your forehead. “Is everythin’ okay? You looked upset earlier..”
“Oh.” You sigh. “Yeah, everything is okay, Joel. It's just the holidays, and my mother, but I’m okay.” You reassure him while your hand drifts up towards the back of his head, threading your fingers through his hair with your nails gently scratching his scalp.
“Yeah, I reckon she had some shit to say? I’m sorry, baby doll. But remember what I said earlier? You’re perfect to me no matter what your mother thinks or says.” He murmured. His hand that wasn’t resting along your hip reaches up, his thumb brushes across your chin, eyes boring into yours with sincerity and pure love.
“I just..I hate her sometimes, and I know I shouldn’t because she’s my mother, but she’s a bitter woman, and I don’t want her in my life anymore, Joel. Not when she’s like this.” You nearly croak, and his face falls. His lips curved downwards into a deep set frown. He senses your tears before they even begin to fall.
“Hey, just because she’s your mother, doesn’t mean that she has a right to be in your life, baby. It’s your life, and you get to decide who you want to be a part of it.” He can feel the weight of the small box growing heavy in his pocket. “Darlin’, I love you, and I just want my girl to be happy.” He confessed.
“You’re right. It's my life and I get to make those choices, not her. I’m sorry, baby. I don’t mean to—”
He shushes you softly. His thumb gently presses down against your lower lip before he steals a quick kiss to reassure you, and himself. “Hey, you ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for. You’re perfect. You’re amazing. Could give less of a fuck what your bitter mother has to say about it. I love you for you, and ain’t nothin’ gonna change that.”
He pauses, swallowing the lump that is growing in his throat. He releases your hip gently before reaching into his pocket. “I know I shoulda asked you this question a long time ago, but I had to be sure that..it was perfect. All my life I’ve found myself bein’ a hopeless romantic. Always giving, never receivin’ the same kinda love I put out there. Never thought that one person could make a man’s heart feel so full, so complete till I met you. Now, you know I ain’t one for cliches, but I love you with everything my heart has to offer, and I want nothin’ more than to spend the rest of my life with you, my beautiful, sweet, unconditionally lovin’, girl.”
“Joel..are you—oh my god.” You’re in disbelief, heart thumping rapidly out of your chest when he pulls out a small, forest green velvet encased box.
“I ain’t finished yet, darlin.’” He tuts playfully. “So, will you do me the honors of becoming my wife? And as your husband, I promise to never stop lovin’ you, t’never stop supportin’ you, no matter what life throws our way?” His eyes are glassy with freshly brewed tears. He doesn’t even have the chance to open the box and reveal the ring to you before you’re throwing your arms around his neck, nearly knocking the wind from his lungs from how tightly you’re hugging him.
“Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you! Oh my god, a million times, yes!” You’re so happy you can barely contain it.
“Dontcha wanna see the ring?” He laughed warmly, wrapping his arms around you. “Ellie and Sarah helped me pick it out.”
“Aren’t you supposed to get down on one knee and all that?” You ask teasingly while you pull back from the hug and hold out your left hand.
“Oh, shit! You’re right! I’m doin’ this all wrong.” He chuckled with a shake of his head.
“No, fuck the tradition. Let’s do it our way.” You suggest and he smiles brightly, dimples peeking through. You open the box together revealing the dainty ring that had you written all over the design. An oval shaped diamond in the center, a shiny gold band, and two smaller diamonds on either side.
“It’s beautiful, Joel. You and the girls have impeccable taste.” Your heart swells when his lips press to your ring finger before he carefully slips the ring into place.
“It’s beautiful, but it doesn’t compare to the woman who’s wearing it.” He comments thoughtfully while your hands come to rest along his cheeks. His face is held tenderly while I love you’s are whispered only for yours and his ears. It’s not long before you're chasing one another’s lips. He kisses you with the same amount of passion every single time.
“Keep the sweater on, baby.” You request between kisses while his hands make quick work of tearing your thin tights open for easy access.
“I’ll buy ya a million pairs. Jus’ wanna make love to my future wife fireside without any obstructions.” His hands rest upon either side of your hips when you straddle his lap.
“And I want my future husband to sit back and watch his future wife ride his cock.” You finalize your words with a searing kiss while your fingers work open the button on his jeans. You push the material down just enough that you can pull his cock free.
“M’so fuckin’ lucky. God, I am so lucky. All my life I’ve been waitin’ for someone like you, baby.” He grunts lovingly, unconditionally when you finally sink down around him. “I can’t fuckin’ wait to grow old with you.”
Your hips roll slowly against his while he pulls you in with gentle hands. There’s no teeth clashing, or skin slapping. It’s just good ole fashioned love making by the fire. Just you and your Texas hunk.
Merry Christmas, Mr. Miller. You’re the only man in this world that deserves my heart.
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