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zepskies · 1 month ago

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I'VE GOT YOU

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Summary: Being pregnant with a supe’s baby isn’t easy, even the second time around. The good news is your husband is all too willing to help you relieve a certain craving.

AN: This one was originally released on Mother’s Day, so if you're a mom, this one's for you! 💗💗 Before writing this I rewatched the episode of Friends where Rachel is at the horny AF phase of her pregnancy. 😂

This little one-shot is set after Calculated Risks, so we also get more of Lila, Ben and the reader’s daughter! By now, she’s about five years old, and the reader is pregnant with her second child: Ben’s first boy! You all know he's been waiting for this one lol. 💚

Word Count: 3.4K

Posted on Patreon: 5/11/2025

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Father-daughter fluff, pregnancy fluff, married couple bickering, and some married couple smut. Domestic feels and happy endings all around 😉

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

Frank pulled the car up through both security gates, tires rolling smoothly up the curve of the paved driveway. When the black Ford Escape finally stopped at the front of the house, Ben subtly breathed out his relief.

The Spanish Colonial-style home was more modest than he had wanted for his growing family. You had been firm on just two floors, a pool, and the double garage. But it was a welcome sight after almost a week in Wisconsin, of all places.

The mission had been to gather intel on some old Vought lab that Stan Edgar’s cohorts had tried to keep hidden, one where V24 was still being made like a high-tech meth lab, with twice the exploding power.

Closing the lab indefinitely had been an easy job. Blowing up a powder keg was relatively simple when Ben himself carried the world’s biggest match, conveniently stored in his chest cavity. But he was reminded why he hated the Midwest. A dusty fucking snooze fest.

And if he ever heard another one of Hughie’s stupid fucking cheese jokes, it would be too damn soon.

He was all too ready—as he was after every field trip with Butcher and his band of merry assholes—to come home to you and Lila. His wife and his kid. That was really all he needed these days.

Christ. He almost shook his head at the thought, after getting out of the SUV. As Frank drove off and Ben unlocked the security passcode to the front door, he had to wonder when he’d gotten so goddamn soft.

“Daddyyyyyyy!”

Before he could even fully raise his head, Ben had his arms full of his little girl. Five years old, and Lila was looking more and more like her mother every day—bright-eyed and beautiful, even with that gap-tooth smile. But he saw just as much of himself there in her hair just a little darker than his, her eyes a little more hazel than green, and a small scatter of freckles across the bridge of her nose, with a couple more dotting her cheek. He hoped she didn’t grow out of them.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Ben greeted, unable to temper his smile. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and she giggled at its slight roughness, thanks to his beard. “You been good for your mom?”

You were coming around the corner, from the kitchen if he had to guess. You set down the remains of a cheese and salami plate on the mahogany credenza in the hall.

“Sometimes,” you wryly answered for your daughter, “but maybe she’ll calm it down a few notches now that Dad’s home.”

He watched your slightly waddling gait with an amused grin. At six months, you were at the cusp of your third trimester. Ben swung Lila over onto one hip and reached out for you as you came into his orbit, smoothing a hand along the swell of your belly before his arm wrapped around your waist and gathered you to him. You held onto his arm in turn.

“Hey,” you said, smiling into the narrow space between your face and his. He welcomed himself home when he bowed his head for a kiss.

Lila squealed and buried her face in her father’s neck, as if she was witnessing a crime. You couldn’t help laughing, but you stayed in his arms even after breaking from his lips, resting your head against his chest.

In some ways, the separation when he went on missions with the team was good. It allowed Ben to work out some of the more intense energy he couldn’t always release at home, and it was no secret that you and your husband could butt heads over almost anything—from who didn’t replace the bag after taking out the trash, to just how long you were going to continue working from home for Supe Affairs before your son was born (albeit with your mom’s help in taking care of Lila).

Sometimes you and Ben just needed the break from breathing in each other’s general direction…and then finding something about it to bicker over.

“Jesus, you sound like a moose sometimes. Would you close your mouth?”

“How about you leave me alone, huh? I just worked out in the basement, and it’s fucking stuffy down there.”

“That’s because you still haven’t changed the air filter like I asked you three weeks ago.”

“Christ on a cross, enough with the damn filter! It’s fucking fine. I changed it last month.”

“No, honey, that was the vacuum filter. And you didn’t do anything. You held the garbage bag while I shook out three pounds of dust and pet hair.”

“You’re the one who wanted the fucking cat!”

“No, your daughter begged—”

Anyway.

Right now, you were fighting the (hormonal) sting of tears in your eyes. You breathed through it, grounding yourself in Ben’s solid frame and the familiarity of his arms. You rested your cheek against his chest, feeling his warmth through the smooth fabric of his sweater.

He noticed the way you held onto him a bit tighter. His brows raised, but he bent his head to brush his lips against your temple.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” your voice was thick when you answered, though you nodded quickly. “Just…missed this.”

Missed you.

You couldn’t see the way he smiled. He rubbed your back, while Lila tangled her little fists in his hair and continued to cling to his neck. Still, his entire world was right here in this room.

“Why did Mr. Cheese go broke?” Ben posed the question to his daughter that evening, after dinner and a family movie in the living room. He’d pretended to suffer through yet another rewatch of The Lion King, but he’d begrudgingly admitted it was good, for a cartoon.

Slowly, painfully slowly, the three of you were going upstairs. Lila was once again in his arms. This time she stretched herself out dramatically like a starfish and expected him to carry her like that up to her bedroom. He did so with a roll of his eyes, but he also had a supportive hand on the small of your back while you made your way up ahead of him.

You held onto the guard rail as you went. Your other hand braced your belly. Occasionally you huffed and puffed, but you were determined to get up these goddamn stairs and to your bed like a normal human.

“Ummm I dunno, why?” Lila replied to her father.

Ben’s lips twitched at a smirk. “He had too many runny asses in Wisconsin.”

Lila bit her lip, but a giggle poured through and shook her whole body. Ben curled his arm upward to hold her more securely, so she wouldn’t smack her head on the stairs. You rolled your eyes, your lips hinting at a smile.

Still, you chided him. “Ben.”

“What? Blame the co…” He cleared his throat at your sharp eye, glancing down at his daughter. “Blame Hughie. He wouldn’t shut up with that shit.”

“You said another bad word, Daddy,” Lila said, in that know-it-all tone she’d gotten into.

Sharp as a tack, this one, Ben thought wryly. If you weren’t a foot away, he wouldn’t care all that much what came out of his mouth. By now his daughter had heard plenty in his presence, or whenever she hung out with her “uncles,” Frank and Loco. But by the way you were looking back at Ben, raising your brows in a not-so-subtle challenge, he knew it wasn’t worth the headache.

“Yeah well, add it to my tab,” he said. He wrangled Lila up higher in his arms and swung her halfway over his shoulder. She screeched and giggled and clung to his back. Ben smirked at the resigned look on your face, but he urged you the rest of the way up the stairs with a playful smack of your ass. "Come on, let's go. We've been here for twenty years already."

"Oh, I don't wanna hear that from you," you shot back with a laugh. "I'm carring the equivalent of a watermelon here."

Ben just rolled his eyes, despite his smile.

Once you reached the top, you both went over to Lila’s room, first door on the right. The orange and white tabby cat, Simba, was already sleeping curled up on her bed as if he was waiting for her. Ben would still rather get a dog. He'd told you more than once.

"Something butch. And reliable," he said, while shoveling Cheetos into his mouth from his reclined state on the living room sofa. "Like a German Shepherd or a Great Dane. Not this lazy fucking Garfield. I mean, what's this thing good for? Whining and scratching my leg all the time for more kibble."

"He just wants you to pet him, babe."

"Damn needy," he muttered, all while the cat was purring, curled up in the crook of his arm while he watched the latest Giants game. Ben scratched Simba's cheek absently.

You shook your head with a smile and went back to work in your office. You only came out to the living room to ask your dear husband to turn down the damn TV.

“Okay, why did Mr. Cheese cross the road?” you offered.

“I don’t know, why?” Lila asked, playing along.

“To get to the other slice, of course!” you said with a smile.

Ben set Lila down on her feet, and the two shared a similar look. Unimpressed. At least your daughter had the decency to try and hide it.

Your lips pursed, but then you waved a dismissive hand and sighed.

“Okay, time for bed,” you said.

You and Ben tucked her in together that night. She was tired enough that she didn’t demand a story this time, for which he counted it as a small blessing. All he wanted to do was strip down and relax in bed with his wife, maybe catch up on his episodes of Deadliest Catch. He’d just have to ignore your teasing that he’d never once went fishing in his life, and likely never would, despite now owning an arsenal of extremely expensive fishing rods.

He ventured down the long hall over to the master bedroom, where you began to change into your nightgown while trying not to sulk.

“She used to think I was funny,” you complained.

“She’s developing a sense of humor. You should be proud,” Ben replied with a smirk.

You swatted him on the ass for that one, making him chuckle as you passed by. He hooked a hand on your arm and carefully guided you back to him, into the cage of his arms.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, sweetheart,” he warned.

In his eyes, you read a familiar spark of desire as they roamed over your deep green, silky maternity gown—a baby shower gift from Annie. But he tempered the spark behind a chaste kiss, more tame than usual for the past few weeks. You merely smiled against his lips, stroking his bearded cheek. Inside, you bubbled with a trill of nerves and arousal all at once.

Your second pregnancy had thus far been more tumultuous than your first one. It was similar in that you were experiencing intermitted bouts of super strength, but your hormones had been going haywire, leaving you with bouts of morning, night, and day sickness, breasts tender to the point of painful, and almost no position comfortable enough for you to lay down and rest your aching back.

Ben knew it full well and had been getting an earful of your pregnancy woes for the past couple of months (not to mention, your accusing side-eye). Weirdly, the constant shitty feeling of being rundown and on the verge of puking had begun to ease up when he was gone this past week…shifting into a different mode of insanely hormonal.

As in, bouts of severe horniness. You’d even had to consult the second drawer of your nightstand for some relief.

But now, you grabbed a fistful of Ben’s shirt and brought him down to you for another kiss. This time you led him deeper, luring him with your sensuous tongue slipping into his mouth. A groan of approval caught in the back of his throat, even though his brows furrowed in slight confusion.

“What’s all this?” he asked, his voice rougher, but still teasing as he squeezed your waist. “You done puking day and night, complaining about my dick and balls being the reason you can’t fit into your jeans?”

His lips brushed along your jawline, a tantalizing sensation, even though you could feel his smirk. You rolled your eyes.

“Charming,” you said flatly. “Just for that, I should leave you to stroke your blue balls for another night.”

Ben chuckled, but he also called your bluff, beginning to graze down your neck, his tongue flicking along the shell of your ear. You shuddered at the pleasurable zing of sensation, unconsciously leaning against him.

“Seriously, you feeling good?” he asked.

You felt the hesitation in his lips, which pressed a real kiss in the juncture between your neck and shoulder. You smiled.

“Maybe,” you said teasingly. “And I might be craving more than oatmeal cream pies and Thai chili peppers this time.”

He snorted. “Thank fuck for small favors.”

You giggled, dragging your nails up and down his back through his shirt. You felt the suspect twitch in his muscles in response. So you slipped your hands back to his chest and gently pushed him backward. He raised his brows and took a step back, then another, until you could guide him into sitting on the edge of the bed. You stepped in between his strong, widespread legs and held his face in your hands.

His own were already beginning to roam down to your hips, giving them a nice firm squeeze. It felt so nice to be touched. It felt like every part of your body was waiting to feel something, wanting to feel good. You desperately needed him to touch you…

“But,” you said, holding a finger over his lips. “Um…I need you to go slow. Be careful.”

Ben’s brows furrowed. Did you really think he'd be too rough with you?

“We fucked plenty of times the first go around. Can't say I remember any incident.”

Your lips twitched at a smile. “Yes, but…I don’t know. I’m feeling more sensitive this time. I’m not sure what’s gonna feel good, what might be too much.”

Ben actually paused. He saw where you were coming from. It just irked him that you felt you had to warn him. He could see the concern and hesitance in your face, like you weren't sure if he could do what you were asking.

“Sweetheart,” he shook his head and pulled you closer, until your belly was nestled warm against his chest. His hands spanned your hips, large and strong, but only enough to feel secure. Grounding. “You think I don’t know how to take care of you, even now?”

Your breath hitched at the depths of his voice, the rumble of it going straight between your legs. He slipped his hands under the nightgown and kneaded the bare flesh of your thighs, somehow both firm and careful.

“Turn around for me,” he said.

You smiled, raising a brow, but you followed his lead. His touch never left you while you turned in his arms and let him slip your nightgown off. He tossed it to the side along with his shirt and pajama pants, then he guided you down to a seat on his muscled thighs. His movements were slow and calculated as he welcomed you back into his arms, brushing your hair back from your face and away from your neck. He nodded up at the dresser mirror straight ahead.

“Take a look, sweetheart,” he said. Meeting your eyes in the reflection there, he skimmed the back of his hand along your jawline. “Fucking beautiful. Now more than ever.”

Those words, he murmured into your skin. “Gonna give me a son. Then I’m gonna fuck another one into you, ‘til we got every fucking room in this house filled up.”

You laughed at that, despite the way your cheeks heated up at the gravel-laden promise.

“What’re you trying to do, assemble your own version of the Von Trapp family? Dress our kids up like Mormons and make ‘em sing songs?”

Ben chuckled. “Hey, they gotta earn their keep somehow. I’m the one who’s rich, not them.”

You wanted to point out, again, that it wasn't just his money, not to mention all the ways he was already spoiling your daughter rotten. But his teeth once again grazed your neck in a sharper nip, grabbing your attention. His tongue flicked along your earlobe, all while his fingers brushed the sides of your breasts and made your shaky breaths rise to meet him.

He cupped your breasts in his large hands and brushed his thumbs over each sensitive, hardened nipple. You let out a cross between a hum and a whine, arching into his touch and pressing back against his chest. You held onto his arms for a further sense of stability and security.

“You’ve been waiting for me, huh? I can tell. You’re all fucking locked up,” he murmured.

“Mhmm,” you agreed, breathless already, a delicious heat pooling in your center.

Eventually, he continued his exploration down the rest of your body, including the gentle swell of your stomach. He kissed down your shoulder, beginning to stroke the outside of your thighs back and forth. Steadily, he moved inward. His fingers became more grazing the closer he got to the apex of your sensitive inner thighs. A shiver ran down your spine.

You heaved a trembling breath. “Ben. Need you, baby.”

“I know,” he replied roughly, a contrast to his sensuous touch. “I fucking told you, I’ve got you. Just relax.”

He clasped his free hand to yours, steading you while his fingers began to tease your wet folds, slipping in between. He brushed and grazed a torturous back and forth. Until finally, two of his long fingers dipped inside your hot, weeping channel for a moment, before they moved back up, circling your clit.

Your breaths were coming out more raggedly now. You let go of his hand just to reach back and grasp at his hair. His fingers moved at just the right angle and you gasped, a delicious tendril of pleasure licking through your core. “Oh…fuck…mhmm…right there…”

Ben smirked. He knew. Because he knew every part of you, every angle that would have you shuddering, body contorting in bliss and pleasure. His favorite thing in the world, aside from being balls-deep inside your sweet pussy, was this. Playing you like a virtuoso, like a fucking First Chair violinist. He might change the notes, tease out different chords, but the end result was always the same—making you fucking sing for him.

While his fingers toyed with your clit, rolling the sensitive bud with firmer pressure, he spread your legs a bit wider with his knees and made more room for himself. Your hips rolled against his hand on reflex, chasing your release.

He used that to his advantage, grabbing your hip and guiding his cock into your throbbing heat in shallow thrusts. You both groaned at the feeling. Your hand tightened in his hair, nails scraping his scalp, surely threatening to rip out a few strands.

It only spurred him on. Ben worked you down over him as slowly as he could manage without busting prematurely at how fucking good you felt, wet and warm and already choking the head of his cock. He buried himself inside deeper and deeper while he stroked tight circles over your clit, until his cock was finally nestled in, filling you completely, hot and hard and perfect.

“Oh, fuck. Ben,” you whined. “Think I’m…”

Your core throbbed tightly around him for a few moments, making you shudder with pleasure. There he just held you to his chest for a minute, allowing you to catch your breath. You held onto his arms. You felt caged, but in the best of ways. You tipped your head back onto his shoulder, where his lips found your temple.

“How was that?” he asked, his voice deep and gravel rough.

“So good,” you nearly sobbed. You were pretty sure you came just then, with merely the feel of him fully seated inside you. You were brimming with pleasure…but it wasn’t just that.

Your heart felt so full for this man, it was nearly overwhelming. You grabbed his wrist and dropped a kiss onto his hand, his palm, and his still slightly wet fingers. He swept his thumb along your cheek in response.

“All right. Good,” he nodded, a bit breathless himself. He slowly smirked into your neck, self-satisfied and a hint devilish.

You smiled too when you caught him in the mirror. His hands returned to your hips and began helping you move, a rocking rhythm that led into his slow, purposeful thrusts. A new lance of pleasure curled up into your core, and a half-choked moan fell from your lips.

“Now the real fun begins,” Ben said.

AN: 😘 All right, some fluffy family moments, some classic BMD bickering, and some fluffy married couple smut. I think we checked all the boxes here! lol Let me know if you guys still want to go back in time and see their wedding, because I have a fun idea for a twist – complete with another Supe Affairs mission with unintended consequences. 🫢

Until then, I've been working on soon to be future chapters of Breaking Point (Russell Shaw x Reader). After that, I'll be working on a series to continue 10 'Til Midnight (Professor!Dean Winchester x Grad Student!Reader). So stay tuned for those! 💚

But on June 1, we're finally getting to another SB series! Unravel Me: the prequel to Lost in Translation (Soldier Boy x Afro-Latina!Reader). 💜💙

Join My Patreon ⟡ Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories. Top-tier patrons can even send me requests!

⋆˙⟡ Get notified when more stories drop! Follow my fic library blog - @zepskieswrites - with notifications on. 💚

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@nancymcl @emily-winchester @sl33pylilbunny @chernayawidow @spnfamily-j2

@lacilou @mimaria420 @yvonneeeee @my-stories-vault @iprobablyshipit91

@jacklesbrainworms @adoringanakin @deanwanddamons @globetrotter28 @mrsjenniferwinchester

@deans-daydream @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70

@rizlowwritessortof @chevroletdean @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @muhahaha303

@123passwort @lyarr24 @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @sanscas @supernotnatural2005

@jessjad @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2 @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67

@deansbbyx @midnightmadwoman @ladysparkles78 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @tmb510

@sarahgracej @foxyjwls007 @just-levyy @roseblue373

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norrisainz33 · 5 months ago

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set up || ls18

☆ summary: esteban sets his good friend lance up on a blind date after a tough season

☆ pairing: lance stroll x nonfamous!reader

☆ fc & warnings: none

☆ requested: yes! thank you sm for your request 🫶🏻

masterlist

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

lance_stroll has made a post

liked by estebanocon, flavy.barla, astonmartinf1, ynuser, hugoboss, pierregasly and 654,234 others

lance_stroll: season finale on film 🎞️ hopefully next season holds more success for the team

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user1: we love you lancey

estebanocon: you’ll come back stronger next season💪🏻 [liked by lance_stroll]

user2: aesthetic fr

chloestroll: love you brother 🤍 [liked by lance_stroll]

user3: nowhere to go but up!!

flavy.barla: 💚 [liked by lance_stroll]

user5: hope you get some well deserved rest

astonmartinf1: we keep pushing! enjoy your break lance 🫶🏻 [liked by lance_stroll]

estebanocon has posted to his story

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yourbff: they’re so cute

estebanocon: and a mess but love them nonetheless 🤍

user1: obsessed with eo31 bf content

ynuser: heheh you can’t but you still do anyway. merci mon ami 🫶🏻

estebanocon: you are always welcome y/n/n

user2: is that the [insert uni] volleyball player y/n y/l/n? no way yall know her she went to my uni im?????

lance_stroll: who is flavy’s friend?

estebanocon: y/n! she’s flavy’s childhood best friend. why do you ask 👀🤭

lance_stroll: ah just curious.. she’s real pretty

estebanocon: oh curious are we?? im telling flavy

lance_stroll: no no that’s ok esteban i didn’t mean like that

estebanocon: too late!

user3: obsessed with their style tf

flavy.barla: my girl ❤️

estebanocon: guess who’s interested in your girl

flavy.barla: omg who

estebanocon: lance

flavy.barla: we’re setting them up whether they like it or not. i’ve seen the scripts - they’re perfect for each other

ynuser has posted to their story

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yourbff: OMG how did it go

ynuser: amazing actually… hate to admit it but they were right

yourbff: ahhhhhhh yayyy!!!!

yourteammate: begging to know WHO they set you up with

ynuser: would you believe me if i said it was an f1 driver?

yourteammate: no way?! which one!!!!!!!

ynuser: lance stroll 🤭

yourteammate: omg you’re winning he’s so handsome

flavy.barla: you love us 😘

ynuser: i do and you were right. he’s so sweet im actually obsessed

flavy.barla: music to my ears. we’re going on a double date tomorrow 🤍

ynuser: wait what?

flavy.barla: shhh don’t question it. lance has had a tough couple of months and esteban and i think you two are good for each other!! just roll with it 😘

ynuser: fine fine fine

lance_stroll: i had a great time with you tonight

ynuser: likewise! thank you for dinner

lance_stroll: no thanks needed! i’m really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow

ynuser: i’m looking forward to seeing you too 🥹

lance_stroll has posted to his story

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user4: oh so you’re on a date and it’s not with me….

chloestroll: ARE YOU OUT WITH THE GIRL YOU TOLD ME ABOUT

lance_stroll: yes!

chloestroll: jumping for joy!! can’t wait to meet her 🤍

lance_stroll: you’re going to love her chlo

astonmartinf1: enjoy lance💚

user5: this is unexpected…. a soft launch?

estebanocon: remember when you told me a blind date was a stupid idea and now you’ve seen her more in these past 2 weeks than i have and she’s literally staying at my house ????

lance_stroll: haha yes i do remember saying that and yes i do remember when you told me that you told me so

estebanocon: ok! i just had to make sure you didn’t forget

user8: crashing out that should be me

ynuser: oh these are cute 🤭

lance_stroll: i thought so too 😉

user6: MONTOYA POR FAVOR

ynuser has made a post 🔒

liked by yourbff, yourteammate, chloestroll, estebanocon, flavy.barla, lance_stroll and 214 others

ynuser: spent some time gallivanting around europe with 2 of my favorite people and a new friend. now onto my first season of professional volleyball with the las vegas thrill. see you all again on match day - it’s time to lock in 🫶🏻

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yourbff: cant wait to see your beautiful self back out there 🏐

ynuser: 🫶🏻😘🏐

flavy.barla: i miss you already

ynuser: i don’t think i’ve ever missed someone more

lance_stroll: good luck! can’t wait to see you again

ynuser: thank you lancey 🤭🤍

yourbff: this is certainly something ��

yourteammate: clocking this 📝

yourteammate: yesssss my baby girl is coming home to me let’s gooo

ynuser: yes my love

estebanocon: you are always welcome at maison de ocon

ynuser: merci for being the best chauffeur and airbnb owner ever

vegasthrill: our girl 🤍

ynuser: 🤍🏐

lance_stroll has made a post

liked by astonmartinf1, yourbff, chloestroll, fernandoalo_official, ynuser, georgerussell63, and 352,935 others

lance_stroll: i think i might like vegas

[tagged: chloestroll, ynuser]

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user3: smiley lance im crying

chloestroll: you were right i do love her

lance_stroll: knew you would

ynuser: STOP I LOVE YOU CHLOE

chloestroll: run away with me ynuser

scottyjames31: hey hey hey let’s not do that

user8: he deserves this happiness fr

f1gossip: this was not on my bingo card i’ll be honest

ynuser: i like you in vegas that’s for sure

lance_stroll: well thank goodness because you’re going to be seeing a lot of me

estebanocon: disgustingly cute

lance_stroll: thanks man

vegasthrill: thanks for joining us! you are always welcome 🏐 [liked by lance_stroll]

user12: lance smiling and a hard launch before gta6

ynuser has made a post 🔒

liked by lance_stroll, yourteammate, vegasthrill, yourbff, flavy.barla, and 321 others

ynuser: with love from me and mine 🤍

p.s everyone say thank you eo and fb for this match made in heaven

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chloestroll: thank you esteban and flavy for bringing this ray of sunshine into my brothers life

scottyjames31: thank you esteban and flavy and y/n for making our lance so happy

flavy.barla: it’s the least we could do for our dear friends 🤍

ynuser: crying real tears rn

lance_stroll: 💚💚💚

estebanocon: two of my favorite people

ynuser: i screenshotted this for the next time you complain about me

estebanocon: of course you did

lance_stroll: look at my beautiful girl 😍

ynuser: i’m too busy looking at my handsome man 😍

lance_stroll: god i love you

ynuser: and i love you 🤍

yourbff: im throwing up. this is so cute its made me sick

ynuser: valid tbh

flavy.barla: remember lance_stroll she was mine first

lance_stroll: noted 🫡

yourteammate: dare i say you two are THE it couple

ynuser: babbyyyy 😭😭😭

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes, feedback and reblogs appreciated. getting a lance request made me so happy

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

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waterlilyvioletfog · 4 months ago

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Rating Scum Villain Characters By How Much I Cheer When I See Them Depicted With Grey Hair

It goes without saying that this list is highly subjective. But it makes me happy! I have not actually seen all these characters with grey hair, i don’t think. Listed ages reflect end of book except where stated otherwise.

Mobei-jun: 2/10. Age: fuck if I know. We’ll say he’s like 39. I understand the whole ice prince aesthetic makes silver/white haired Mobei-jun attractive to some people but I personally think it’s really funny if he just looks absurdly young forever. Assigned youngest child.

Shang Qinghua: 6/10. Age: like 40 or 80 if you count his first life. Shang Qinghua’s perpetual state of total stress is one of his most defining characteristics so grey hair for this character makes sense. Also jives well with his whole sleazy uncle kind of vibe. When paired with above, it can make MBJ look like SQH’s inappropriately younger boyfriend, which is deeply funny to me. Unfortunately, the twinkification of this character in fandom limits my opportunities to experience this kind of joy.

Luo Binghe: 0/10. Age: like 25. It just feels wrong.

Shen Jiu: 8/10. Age: depends, we’ll say 40. If Shen Jiu had grey hair he would dye that shit so fucking fast. Yue Qingyuan would try to re-assure him that oh, shidi, grey hair is nothing to be ashamed about!! And Shen Jiu would be like you stupid fuck it’s clearly caused by my terrible shitty cultivation GET OFF MY FUCKING MOUNTAIN!!!!!!!! But fun fact! It is actually caused by his constant hyper-vigilance, PTSD, and meteoric stress levels. 🙏💚

Ning Yingying: 1/10. Age: also like 25. Gets 1 point for the hilarity of a character named baby ending up prematurely grey.

Ming Fan: 5/10. Age: 27-ish. This kid is so fucking stressed. Obviously this more applies post-jump, not to volume 1!Ming Fan. There is excellent potential here though for every time something happens to Shen Qingqiu, Ming Fan shows up looking greyer and more haggard.

Liu Mingyan: 0/10. Age: like 25. Idk it just doesn’t inspire me.

Sha Hualing: 1/10. Age: also like 25. I was gonna say 0/10 and then i thought about Luo Binghe-wrangling giving her grey hair and her furiously dyeing it black again and I thought it was funny. Sue me.

Gongyi Xiao: 2/10 Age: ??? Dead anyways. See, if the depiction of GYX gives him grey hair, that means he lived long enough to have grey hair 🥺

Yang Yixuan: -10/10 Age: Baby. Reason: Baby.

Tianlang-jun: 10/10. Age: I don’t fucking know, man. Lots of great reasons to give TLJ some greys. # 1, it helps distinguish him visually from Binghe. # 2, appropriate since he is an evil DILF. # 3: my guy got crushed under a mountain for like twenty years I think that entitles him to some grey hair. # 4: I think he’d be completely ridiculous about it. I am imagining him frantically denying he looks his age and demanding Zhuzhi-lang tell him he still looks pretty.

Zhuzhi-lang: 3/10. Age: ?????? On the one hand, ZZL is probably old enough and stressed enough to have grey hair. On the other other hand, his hair is typically depicted as mostly green, partially snakes, so, like, ymmv.

Su Xiyan: 6/10. Age: dead, would probably be in her 40s/50s if she were alive. Look, I cannot deny the appeal of giving some grey hair to the dead dilf mother of all time. Tianlang-jun would also, unfortunately, be staggeringly horny about it.

Mu Qingfang: 7/10. Age: 40s-ish. *Nods approvingly*

Liu Qingge: 4/10. Age: 30-45. Liu Qingge is the assigned baby of the peak lords, so giving him grey hair always feels weird to me. He would look pretty with like a cool silver streak tho. I do also see some appeal to him acquiring grey hair during the five year time skip due to the *hand waves*.

Qi Qingqi: 7/10. Age: 40s-ish. MILF.

Yue Qingyuan: 16/10. Age: 40s-ish. Makes absolutely perfect sense. This is one of the most stressed men alive. He’s very literally the assigned da-ge by the narrative. His cultivation is a total mess because of Xuan Su! Frankly, I’m surprised his hair isn’t totally white by the end of this book! because it would make sense!! within its literary and cultural context from what I know!! Also, it would work with his wardrobe.

Shen Qingqiu: 10/10. Age: 27-ish, technically, except also in his 40s, except also immortal so who really knows. Similar to YQY and TLJ, this makes sense. Shen Qingqiu’s abysmal physical health and terrible mental health are persistent throughout the text, and things like Without A Cure and the widow arc are perfect excuses for SQQ to have grey hair. It makes him look older, which is fun in SQQ’s context for a variety of reasons, including the fact that LBH would find it hot. Elegant, Beautiful, Graceful, Scholarly Qing Jing Peak Lord Shen having grey hair is a beautiful thing indeed 💚

#scum villain #svsss #scum villain self saving system #mxtx #bingqiu #i know there are other characters but idk. im having fun here.

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amirasainz · 5 months ago

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Maybe some jealous Lando but with a happy end? Btw, I loved your last post. 💚

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 🧡

Burning Jealousy

The silence in the car was unbearable.

Yn sat stiffly in the passenger seat, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the passing streetlights. The only sound was the low hum of the engine and the occasional flick of the turn signal. Lando’s hands gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly, his jaw clenched, his knuckles white.

It had been like this since they left dinner with their friends—since Mike had made her laugh a little too much, leaned in a little too close, and, in Lando’s eyes, given her just a little too much attention.

Lando had said nothing the entire drive. But then, just as the silence was starting to settle into something tolerable, he opened his mouth.

"He's in love with you, you know."

Yn’s fingers twitched. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she stared out of the window. She refused to acknowledge the comment.

"Yn," Lando tried again, his tone sharp. "Don't ignore me."

She exhaled through her nose, still refusing to look at him.

"I'm not ignoring you," she said, her voice dangerously even. "I just have nothing to say to that."

Lando scoffed, shaking his head. "Right. Of course. Because you don't see it."

"Because there’s nothing to see," she snapped, finally turning to glare at him. "Mike is my friend, Lando. He has been for years. You know that."

Lando let out a humorless laugh, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, and I also know the way he looks at you."

Yn clenched her fists in her lap, willing herself to stay calm. But the anger had already started to bubble over, and she knew it was too late.

"You know what? I’m done with this conversation."

She turned back to the window, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

Lando let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his curls.

The road ahead was empty, the city quiet at this late hour. When they reached a red light, the car rolled to a slow stop. The tension in the air was thick enough to choke on.

And then Yn had had enough.

Without a word, she unbuckled her seatbelt and pushed open the car door.

"Yn!" Lando’s voice was sharp with shock, but she didn't stop.

She stepped out onto the pavement, reaching down to yank off her heels. The night air was cool against her skin, but her anger burned hotter.

"Yn, what the hell are you doing?"

Lando had barely processed what was happening before she was walking down the street, heels dangling from her fingers, her bare feet padding softly against the pavement.

"Yn!"

The sound of the car door slamming echoed through the quiet street. A second later, Lando was jogging after her.

"You can’t just walk away!" he called, his voice laced with frustration. "Yn, stop!"

She ignored him.

"Yn, I'm serious—come back here!"

Nothing.

Lando groaned, running a hand down his face before picking up his pace. His heart was pounding for a different reason now—protectiveness, fear, the sheer desperation to fix things before they fell apart.

He caught up to her quickly, stepping in front of her path and forcing her to stop.

"Move, Lando," she muttered, her voice ice-cold.

"Not until you talk to me."

"I don’t want to talk to you."

"Well, too bad," he shot back. "Because I’m not letting you walk barefoot down the street at night like a crazy person."

Yn huffed, crossing her arms. "Then you shouldn't have said something so stupid."

Lando’s expression softened slightly, but he didn’t move. He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair.

"I know," he admitted. "I know it was stupid."

Yn blinked, surprised by his sudden shift in tone.

"I just—" Lando sighed, looking down at the ground for a moment before meeting her eyes again. "I love you, Yn. And sometimes, that love makes me an idiot."

She frowned, her anger flickering for just a second. "Lando—"

"No, let me finish," he interrupted, stepping closer. "I know Mike is your friend. I know you love me. But sometimes, I see the way other guys look at you, and it drives me insane."

"Lando—"

"Because I don't want to lose you," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "Because the idea of you being with someone else—of someone else making you laugh like that, making you smile like that—kills me."

Yn’s anger started to waver, just a little.

"I hate that I get jealous," Lando continued. "I hate that I let it get to me. But it's only because I love you so much, and sometimes, I don’t know how to deal with that."

Yn let out a breath, her shoulders loosening slightly.

"You're an idiot," she muttered.

Lando let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, I know."

She sighed, shaking her head. "I love you, Lando. But you have to trust me. You have to trust that I love you and only you."

"I do," he said quickly. "I do trust you. It's him I don’t trust."

Yn rolled her eyes. "Mike has never tried anything, and he never will. You have to let this go."

Lando hesitated before nodding. "Okay."

"Okay?" she echoed.

"Okay," he repeated, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry. Really."

Yn let out a small sigh. "You're lucky I love you."

Lando grinned, his dimples appearing. "I really am."

Before she could say anything else, he bent down and, without warning, scooped her up into his arms.

"Lando!" she squeaked, wrapping her arms around his neck on instinct.

"You're not walking back barefoot," he said simply. "Even if you are mad at me."

Yn huffed but didn’t argue. She rested her head against his shoulder as he carried her back to the car.

When he finally set her down, she looked up at him, her expression softer now.

"You're an idiot," she murmured again.

Lando smirked. "Yeah, but I’m your idiot."

She rolled her eyes, but before she could say anything, he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against her lips.

And just like that, the fight was forgotten.

The love, however, remained.

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #xoxo babygirl 💋#lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris #charles leclerc x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #max verstappen x reader #george russell x reader #carlos sainz x reader #pierre gasly x reader

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finniestoncrane · 7 months ago

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OH BOY! How about Office Eddie nsfw headcanons? I love that dweeb at the office with a dark streak and honestly just want anything about him 💚

Dano!Riddler x Fem!Reader Headcanons oooooooooh yeah!! i've started writing a little outline for something like this but longer!! this is a good excuse to test some things out and see what works >:3c 🐀💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: voyeurism, pervert eddie, peeping tom, spying, non-consensual stuff, masturbation, unintentional cum swallowing

listen, employment in a nice office isn't all that common in gotham, and you're lucky you're not behind a bar serving sleazy wannabe rogues or hustling for what little money you can get, so you're willing to put up with your shy and quiet and kinda dweeby co-worker

but that's only because you have no idea about all the weird stuff he's up to...

eddie is smitten immediately by you, but he doesn't speak to you at all for the first two weeks you're sharing an office with him

it makes you a little uncomfortable, but he slowly warms up and offers you a hello and a goodbye

when he starts talking to you a bit more, it's about quite dark and deep subjects

it's almost like he's trying to guage your response to decide if you're a good person

or one of the people he goes on about, the undeserving masses

he's nice enough though, and you find that he's very helpful and willing to guide you with the tasks

and you quickly notice that he's far smarter than you, and is willing to hold himself accountable for your training

this seemingly kind gesture isn't selfless, however, it's actually his way of getting closer to you

and to have you depending on him for your job

it's not something you notice at first, if at all, but edward always offers to look your work over before passing it on to the bosses

he's changing it without you knowing though, making sure there are little mistakes that have you reprimanded

eddie delivers that bad news of course, and offers to show you how to fix your errors

you're so grateful that you hug him, or compliment him, and so he can hardly stop doing it

besides, the stupider you feel, the more you'll have to rely on him, and the more you'll view him as smart and wonderful

and in order to keep you thinking that, he'll criticise you sometimes

nothing too mean, not too obvious

but enough that he can see your pupils widening and your skin flushing when he does compliment you

"don't worry, i won't tell the bosses"

gosh, you owe him so much... maybe he'll cash in the favours someday

eddie has the keys to the office and he unlocks it every morning, since he's always there a lot earlier than you

you never question why, but it's so he can set things up

you wouldn't believe how many cameras are hidden in the little space you share

under the desk, in the toilet, in the stationary cupboard

and the work laptop he offered to set up for you?

the webcam is hacked, so he can watch you at home

because at a certain point, he can't stand not to be around you or to know what you're up to when you clock out for the day

and that includes when you leave the room to go to the toilet

he had to drill a hole in the wall of the cupboard between the office and the bathroom, just so he can keep an eye on you

and he finds his behaviour escalating, like an experiment to see how far he can go

it starts with him touching himself under his desk, rubbing his hands over his erection and trying to keep quiet

rubbing against you in the elevator, placing his hands on your shoulders as he stands behind you, staring down your blouse

asking you to reach up high or down low to watch the way your clothes move to expose you

messing with the ac, watching you sweat when it's too hot, watching your nipples harden when it's too cold

then he starts messing with the cables under his desk a lot, something with the wiring you don't understand

but it's an excuse to stare at your legs, trying to get a peek up your skirt

and then before you know it, your sweet coworker is masturbating into your coffee creamer

waiting to see if you can taste the difference, to see if you recognise him on your tongue

#is this too like... nasty? is it just me that would read this as a long fic lmaoooo #finnie writes #x reader #riddler smut #fanfic #the riddler fanfic #riddler fanfic #riddler x reader #riddler x you #ridler scenario #dano riddler #dano!riddler #edward nashton #the riddler fanfiction #the riddler #paul dano #danonation #batman 2022 riddler #riddler 2022

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xomakara · 8 months ago

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what do you think about brat!reader that has a fixtation on pulling jaehyuns hair during sex but since he enlisted, brat!reader couldn’t do it because of his short hair and has been bugging him about it through the phone whenever he calls to check in on her and when he comes back home during his break, brat!reader is still pissed about it but jaehyun is in a loving way annoyed with her brattiness and puts her in her place ( if you don’t mind could you write something along the lines of this too 🤗🤗🤗)

Completely Yours

SUMMARY | Jaehyun gives you unconditional love before he enlists. PAIRINGS | Jaehyun x Reader RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+ GENRE | husband!Jaehyun, soon-to-be-dad!Jaehyun, smut, established relationship CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, filthy dirty thoughts, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), fingering, oral sex (female receiving/male giving), dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, vaginal penetration LENGTH | 3,543 words TAGLIST | — NETWORKS | @k-vanity @ksmutsociety AUTHOR’S NOTE | Hi anon, I know it's not exactly what you requested but I did include a hair-tugging kink in there lol. I hope you still like it regardless. I finally managed to finish this and sure, it's not as long as the other Jaehyun fics I've written, I still hope you all like it. My brain has not been braining for this fic and it has drove me crazy but I really wanted to get this posted before Jae enlisted. I also want to thank @caelesjjk for the gorgeous banner! Please reblog, like, comment, I love you all and I'm gonna miss Jaehyun for the next 18 months. 💚

NCT Main Masterlist

"Come here, babe," Jaehyun's deep voice is sweet like honey. He's sitting up in bed, blankets over his bottom half and propped up against the headboard, relaxed. His fingers are crooked, signaling you over. "I wanna do somethin'."

There's a devilish curve to his lips, hinting at some mischief. With how hot and cold he's been this last week—all touchy one moment, ignoring you the next—it makes you hesitate in walking over. You eye him warily, watching him coo at you. "What's gotten into you? What do you want, exactly?"

"Just want my wife," Jaehyun replies.

You crawl your way between his legs, knees planted on either side of his thighs. "I'm still mad at you. I hope you know that."

"Still?" His hands fit themselves at your waist perfectly. A kiss finds itself placed right below your ear. Another at your jaw, then to the side of your nose. "Baby, it's only the military. You know I have to go. I'll be back soon."

"Not soon enough," your tone is accusatory and petulant; he's aware of this as his fingers dance against the fabric of your silk slip nightgown, stopping just as the hemline hits the junction between your inner thigh and hip. You frown, running your hand through his now short hair. "I miss the longer hair already."

"Gonna miss tugging on it during sex, is that it?" he snorts, blowing raspberries into your neck as he squeezes the globes of your ass with his big hands. You jolt up in response, barely able to smother out the surprised noise from your mouth.

"Y-yeah! I like when it's long...and I get to yank on it and make you make pretty noises. No more stupid buzzcut," you groan, doing your best not to think about what you were going to be without for a whole two years.

"Taeyong's girlfriend didn't complain when he cut his hair," Jaehyun chuckled deeply, the sound vibrating through his chest. "It'll grow back real quick and then I can go back to giving you head while you hold it and tug on it however you like."

“That’s Taeyong’s girlfriend,” you whined. "But you promise, Jae?"

"I promise," Jaehyun bites into the joint between your shoulder and neck and then soothes over it with his warm tongue. He hums, "Time will go by so fast. And, anyway..." his lips are brushing against yours. He still looks so good with the short hair. So handsome when he smiles. His words are full of sureness as he caresses your belly, "you have a piece of me already."

Your heart squeezes at this because he's right. Inside of you, there is already a small fragment of him living and growing, something physical for you to always cherish. "How did you find out?"

His arms wrap around you, snug and warm. Your lips mold against his and he's drinking you in. "I found the test when I was getting the emergency kit before we left for our trip. Why didn't you tell me, baby?"

"I don't know. I… I was nervous. Not about having a baby with you. I'm afraid of...afraid of being by myself without you," the grip around you grows tighter at your confession. "How can I get through the next 18 months without you? Who is going to help me when I get fat and angry with hormones?" You laugh, watery at the sudden sting of tears brimming behind your eyes. The words start to flood past your lips now that you've confessed. "Who will hold my hair back for me when I barf, or massage my aching feet at the end of a long day?"

"I'm always a phone call away, baby. All you have to do is reach out," he hugs you tighter, pressing his lips against the side of your throat. "The guys are always here too, Taeyong's girlfriend and our family. Don't feel like you have to go through any of this alone."

"Promise me you'll call every day? After your shifts? Come home during your breaks?" your hands fidget against his shoulders as they dip beneath your slip, gripping at his bare waist, eager for him. His hips buck into the air a little. You're breathless. "Please?"

"Whatever you want," there's a tentative motion as he strokes a line up your spine. His hands cup your cheeks. "I'll give you everything."

With the tip of his tongue, he nudges your lips apart and slips past. Jaehyun deepens the kiss by nibbling the corner of your lip, slipping into your mouth as you gasp at his little bites, swallowing his moans when you wiggle around in his lap, grinding down slowly.

One thing you and him do very well is kissing. You used to kiss until your mouths would begin to tingle with numbness and you'd have to separate to catch a breath before diving right back in.

Jaehyun tastes the same. His kisses are addictive, hot and demanding like the man himself. "Let me love you in the meantime. Let me spoil my gorgeous wife until the second I leave."

"Jaehyun, the guys are outside," your husband hasn't kept his hands to himself, palms drifting lower to hold the swell of your ass as you attempt to sit up and off him. But the man isn't having it.

"I'm sure the guys are all at the lake or goofing off somewhere," Jaehyun muttered, his lips dragging down the line of your throat to leave marks as he pleases.

"Can't believe you invited the guys on our trip...ah," your complaints weaken out as he gently teases your nipples through the fabric of the slip, touching the wet bud of the other until you start to squirm. "Ah! Babe, knock it off," you squeak, glancing at the door. Your knees tighten their grip at his sides.

"Can't help myself. Got a hot, pregnant wife sittin' on me," it's meant to be a joke but all it does is send your mind on an out-of-control tangent. His eyes drop. "Now, are you going to take care of the problem, or will I need to do it myself?"

"Not my problem that you popped a boner," a squeal of surprise passes from you when he rolls you onto your back, switching your position easily. There's something hungry, unbridled and impatient in Jaehyun's eyes as he regards you. You flush at his heavy gaze and spread your legs so he can nestle further between your thighs. "Jae."

"What does my sweet, gorgeous wife want?" his thumbs slide across your nipples as he takes a deep breath.

"I...fuck, Jae," you huff and grind up against his crotch. Your throat feels like it's tightening. Heat pools in your tummy as the flush moves further down, towards your tits, neck. "I want your mouth."

"Good thing I'm hungry, too,” he smirks.

"Jaehyun," you snap at his teasing, arching when he pulls down the straps and slides the nightgown down your frame.

"Can't wait to taste you," the bottom hem goes as far as your middle before bunching. A bite to your nipple has you whining, trying to muffle the noises by biting the knuckle of your thumb. "Lift yourself up a little so I can get this out of my way."

Your panties join the crumple on the floor. Then, you spread your legs so that one wraps itself around his shoulder while the other is lifted up and set in the crook of his elbow. His hands lay flat on your belly, right above your pelvis. He nips and kisses all the soft, unmarred skin that he's familiar with. Your heart begins to flutter, making you tingle down below.

"I can't believe that I'll miss you being all round with my baby," Jaehyun murmurs against your stomach. Your body aches for him as the days he has to leave start to come close. There's still time, but that won't matter soon when the separation will set in.

"At least you'll be home during your breaks," you gulp and your head dips back. A light kiss is placed directly on your clit. "That'll make me feel a little better. We'll see you and you'll spoil the hell out of me with your undying love and affection."

"Exactly. The time will be fast, so let me enjoy the moments I still have with you," Jaehyun slides your labia apart and licks a broad strip from your clit to your core. "Mhm. So damn perfect, it tastes good, too."

You squeeze his arm tightly and gasp, his breath is hot and making your whole body tingle with sensitivity as you writhe against the sheets, and he takes this as a signal to keep eating you out.

The long length of his tongue darts inside your cunt as he swirls the tip over the sides. He goes deeper, spreading you wider for his convenience and flicks at a sensitive part that has your legs tensing. He watches, with pleasure, how you shiver when he curls his tongue upward. Then, he presses right under your hood, applying a relentless pressure to the aching spot that has you trembling. The muffled and delicious gasps and whines of ecstasy are music to his ears, as are the satisfied moans you make every now and then when his lips engulf your clit, the vibrations that shudder through the sensitive organ adding to the intensity.

His hand continued to caress your belly. The reminder that a life was slowly forming in you both warms him and makes his throat clench at the same time. He will miss it. Miss your swollen belly, your changing figure, your shifting moods, and cravings, and how his little spitfire will get all hormonal on him.

Jaehyun retracts the point of his tongue from inside and replaces it with two of his fingers. A continuous stream of arousal slips from his digits when he sinks in. He thumbs the side of your engorged clitoris as he pushes into you as slow as his body would allow. There were times he wasn't willing to take it slow, was almost rough, but now was not one of them. He only wanted to hear you fall apart before his departure and milk it for all it's worth.

Fingers moving expertly in you, he moves up to kiss your breast, taking the other nipple into his mouth. His tongue swipes across the protruding nub in a circular motion, pinning the pebble with the point, as his other hand continues to stroke you in perfect harmony. Jaehyun pinches your nipple, lashing the hard, reddening, little peak until you moan at him, back arching and your knees knocking his shoulders.

"What else do you want, my love?" Jaehyun breathes, curling his fingers. "Tell me."

"Jae," you breathed out.

“Tell me, babe. Come on, use that pretty voice of yours,” Jaehyun coaxed.

“Inside!” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper.

"Inside? Yeah?" he murmurs. He laps a bead of your cream from the corner of his lips. Aroused, your nipples stand firm as he thumbs them again.

"Put your cock in me," your nails drag a line over his shoulder. "Make love to me."

"Damn, my baby's so impatient," the tone in his voice, all rugged and husky from not saying a word until now, goes straight to the center of your core. The slight quaking that makes itself present in his legs goes unseen to you.

Jaehyun captures you with a brief yet searing kiss. You hum with delight, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, holding on as he presses his lips to yours. You nudge his nose with the side of yours, offering a smile when he looks into your eyes. The moment lingers for several seconds with him observing you as you catch your breath.

"Tell me," Jaehyun touches his forehead to your collarbone, nuzzling his head on your skin as he feels your pussy constrict around him. He flips his head and kisses where your shoulder meets the collar. "Tell me how you want it."

"Love me, babe. Please," you whisper, eyes meeting him. The head of his cock pushes into you just enough for him to rock deeper in and stretch you slowly. He drags his length through your swollen pussy, slipping in and out to coax himself hard again and again, always returning to his place inside of you, opening and filling your throbbing heat, molding your softness and wetness around his hard cock.

A ragged exhale leaves his lungs as Jaehyun runs his hand down the outside of your leg, clutching your ankle in order to wrap around him. You wiggle against his torso and then rest your leg higher up along the center of his back, knee nudging his tail bone, wanting him deeper inside of you, rolling your hips and chasing the high he knows that you desperately need. Jaehyun rewards you for it by sliding in more, up to the root.

"Oh, shit!" you curse and tighten around him.

He's silent; he loves having sex with you, but there is no room to talk when all you can hear are the squelch of his thrusts and the rickety noise made when his cock enters your throbbing sex and his heavy grunts.

"Almost there?" Jaehyun is quite close, breathing heavily as his skin starts to shimmer in the sunlight.

He pushes inside of you until his hips knock your own. He circles his pelvis, massaging your clit with his dick. The pressure on the swollen nub has you whimpering, struggling to meet his movements until it starts to sting and ache from the constant stimulation and you begin to move away, but he stops the motion with one of his big hands splayed on your hip and holds you steady.

“Jae!” you cried out.

"Hm. Is this what you want? You want this?" he groans, rocking his hips, punctuating the word with another nudge of his cock against you.

A yes bubbles from you, the word leaving your mouth followed by the most desperate moan when the swollen glands hit just the right spot. The ridges on his pelvic bone brush along the top of your slit and bump your clit each time his hips rut forward. The thickness of his penis is evident as he repeatedly pushes and pushes until you take every inch inside.

"Gonna cum?" the man mutters in his most raspiest tone. "It's okay to cum," he grunts, pounding into you harder than before. "Gonna love you the entire time...even if it takes me all night."

You sob with delight as a flash of electricity moves from your pelvis to the very top of your scalp. It was white behind your closed eyes as a shattering pleasure moved down the middle of you. "Ah! Shit. Oh, Jaehyun!"

A single moan escapes his parted lips, sounding strangled and wrecked, before Jaehyun catches and swallows it. He moans it deep into your mouth with one last hard shove, the final shove of his cock. You feel the burst and heat spreading inside. He makes a beautiful face, gasping with the sensation that overtakes him and you catch his orgasm just in time. It's euphoria the way his expression, eyebrows upturned, lips slightly opened. He moans out a gasp and throws his head back, full and handsome, before tipping his chin and pressing his forehead against yours.

You touch his jawline lightly with a fingertip and he opens his eyes to look into yours, finding those crinkles in the corners. The sweat is coating his skin and you admire the red that paints his cheeks and lips. You reach up and run a gentle hand over the skin there, down his chest, before finally letting it settle over his rapidly thumping heartbeat.

"You've made me a complete mess," you huff out with laughter, full of warmth. The light-hearted sound makes a smile appear on Jaehyun's face.

“Don’t worry,” Jaehyun chuckled, “I plan on fixing it for you in a minute. Think you can handle another round?”

"Definitely."

Some months later

"Look at my little princess getting all big," Jaehyun cooed from the tablet screen in your hands. "Daddy can't wait to be home."

"Oh, you care more about your daughter than your wife now, huh?" you situate the phone on the phone stand so that you could bounce the baby in your lap, wiping her chin after the last of her suckling your breast. It was close to time for her to nap, the lightness in the tone of her fussing notifying you.

"I love both my girls. I can't wait to see you both," he mutters, his gaze softening at the two of you.

"We both miss you," you coo, standing to pace about the room with the infant at your chest. There was no stopping the fond look that passed onto your face. He'd been a daddy for three months, was lucky to be there for your labor, and held his beautiful baby girl for the first time in the delivery room. From that moment, your heart had never been fuller. "Here, honey, say hi to daddy."

The phone was in position so the small baby girl could be seen in your arms, waving at the camera with her fist.

"That's daddy, yeah, that's him! That's daddy," you whispered sweetly, resting a kiss on the downy hair atop her tiny head as she babbled. "Say 'hi!'"

"Daddy will be home soon in a few hours," he says, his free hand raising in a wave to the phone. "Then, daddy can hug and kiss his little princess for real. All good in the nursery? Do I need to bring anything home with me?"

"No, the room is finally fully finished, thanks to the family and the guys. No toys needed, no blankets or clothes," you beam. "But... you can pick up her a few diapers."

You continue on walking the baby around until she begins to doze off, arms twitching in her sleep, her head laying on your chest, fuzzing and twitching like a kitten. A wide grin spread across the man's face, warm and genuine at the sight, feeling like something within his chest had been suddenly twisted in a pleasing way.

"Only a few more months and I'll officially be home, my love. Then we'll be together, our whole little family. My whole world," he smiled, making silly faces through the tablet. "Babe, I gotta get going now. Johnny is almost here to pick me up."

“Hurry home, fast,” you urge.

“As fast as Johnny can drive,” Jaehyun calls as a goodbye and winks at you.

“Oh god. That might get you home quicker, but I am begging you,” you plead, “Don't let him speed.”

"No promises!" he calls as a goodbye and winks at you.

With that, the call is done and you situate the baby on the playmat, turning on a baby video with music as she snoozes away. You sit, with legs curled under you, waiting for his arrival.

Ten minutes, fifteen minutes, half an hour and still no Jaehyun. He should've been back by now.

After a couple more minutes, the door unlocks and you look over to the door, your husband comes barreling through as quick as his legs will allow. "Jaehyun!"

His feet carry him in an instant, catching your jaw gently, cupping it before dragging the pad of his thumb over your cheek with a love-sick and tired smile gracing his features.

"I'm home," he whispers softly, lifting you up in a bear-like hug and carrying you the short distance to the sofa before setting you in his lap. "God, how have you been, sweetheart? How's my baby girl?"

"Good and asleep. Tuckered herself out today, too," you lean over him, peering over the back to spot the infant sleeping. "We're both really glad you're finally home."

You breathe out, laying a loving kiss against his brow. "How long is this break? Do I get to keep you to myself for longer than a day this time?"

"This time is a week," he grinned and hugged you closer, hands going up and down the span of your back. "Just a week. You can keep me to yourself for a week. Plus my hair is a bit longer now for you to pull..." he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows and making you swat at his broad chest.

"Quit! The baby is sleeping," you chide him. But, Jaehyun was quick to make up for his lack of brain cells by leaving open-mouthed, lingering kisses over your neck, not holding back while nipping gently here and there. Your breathless hush becomes a broken groan.

"Did I ever tell you," his voice dropped, turning rough, as he grazed his teeth over the shell of your ear. His smile was wicked and inviting. He'd never looked as handsome as in this moment to you. "I love you so, so much?"

You clear your throat with a chuff, fight a shiver, and narrow your eyes at your husband. "Many times, but remind me once again."

Jaehyun looks you in the eyes, giving your buttocks a hearty squeeze. "Let me prove it, instead."

#kvanity #ksmutsociety #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct stories #nct fanfics #nct imagines #nct smut #Jeong Jaehyun #Jaehyun #nct jaehyun #jaehyun smut #jaehyun x reader

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shellshocklove · 8 months ago

Text

brat four: everything is romantic | joel miller

pairing/au: joel miller x brat!female!reader – no outbreak

summary: joel's brat summer has come to an end.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! age gap, enemies to lovers vibes? swearing, drinking of alcohol, smoking of cigarettes, use of pet names, angst, fluff, smut, brat tamed? reader, dom!joel, a hint of sub!joel? manhandling, oral sex (69-ing), cock worship, pussy pronouns, a little dacryphilia, degradation (whore, slut), multiple orgasms, squirting, creampie, some sub space territory, unprotected sex (don’t do it!), one (1) use of the word 'daddy', no use of y/n

a/n: here is the final chapter! thank you as always to @dustydaddyyy! 💚 without her i don't think would've been able to finish this.

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3 / playlist

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.

He was used to being listened to, your father, his voice weighty although every word he spewed was superfluous. You watched how his jaw moved, up and down, up and down, almost like he moved in slow motion, the spit splattering in big drops.

"–I need you to smile with your eyes this time– the social media intern told me a lot of people on twitter said you looked like you didn't want to be there… are you even listening?" he spat.

Never in your life had you wanted to roll your eyes as much as you wanted to now. Something ripped deep inside your heart, at a wound that had never really closed. You were used to the feeling; a quiet rage simmering under your skin at yourself for feeling it still.

"Dad, I already told your secretary weeks ago that I can't be there–"

"I don't fucking care–" he cut you off, "I tell you to be somewhere and you'll be there, understood? Don't forget your place, now."

The threat didn't sting as much as it had a few years ago. What used to scare you in the past, now only managed to make you angry. You had packed your bags already. The summer was over, your last year of post grad was waiting, along with your new internship, you couldn't just miss the first few days because your father needed you to stand behind him and smile (with your eyes) at a fundraiser.

It was ridiculous.

Oh, how stupid you'd felt when he'd arrived at the house, thinking he was there to say goodbye, to be a father for once.

Turns out you were ridiculous.

"Or else?" you spat out so quickly you didn't have time to regret it.

His eyes hardened, eyes growing cold as he dug them deep into you. The words you'd spat out had hung over your conversations with your father for years, but never had you spoken them aloud. He made you feel so small, he'd always made you feel small, and you were done with it.

He stepped closer, the kitchen island the only thing separating you now, and raised a finger at you. "What did you just say?"

Behind your ribcage your heart beat out of your chest, pumping your rage throughout your body. Images flashed before your eyes, a supercut of your childhood, of the countless times he'd stood over you with poisoned words.

"I said: or else? You need a hearing aid or something?"

Your father stepped around the island, and a fear gripped around your throat, your legs backed off on their own accord. He froze then, a pleased smile tugging at his face, ripping it apart. You felt sick to your stomach.

"Or else…" he started, "I'll cut you off. If you're gonna be an ungrateful bitch like this, I ain't giving you a penny– I'll have you removed from my will, I'll disinherit you, you understand?"

"You wouldn't dare," you tried to argue back, but your voice lacked bite and your anger.

"Oh, sweetie, I'll do it with a smile."

Looking at your father, how pleased with himself he looked, you felt your whole body deflate. How could the man who gave you life, who put you on this earth have so much hatred in his heart for you? What was it about you that was so hard to love?

"It would be a relief," he continued, but his voice sounded far away, "to finally be rid of you."

"'m sorry to interrupt y'all talkin'," Joel's drawl cut through the room, "we're finishin' up out here 'nd we need your final approval."

Joel was looking straight at you, but it was hard to interpret his face. Something dragged across it, like he fought to keep himself in check, but softening at the edges as he looked at you.

How dared he? How dared he look at you like that?

“I’m paying for this nonsense so I’ll be the judge of that,” your father huffed, pushing past you to slip out into the backyard, leaving you alone with Joel.

Suddenly, the room felt awfully stuffy, something heavy growing between you and Joel. He must've caught the end of you and your father's conversation. A mix of anger and embarrassment simmered at the bottom of your stomach at the thought.

You'd done exactly as he'd wished; you'd slipped quietly out the door at the wedding and left your dignity behind. The summer never wanted to end, and seeing him day in and day out, working away in the backyard stung more than you'd ever admit out loud.

So you'd kept your distance, leaving early to mill about downtown, trying to fill your days with anything to keep you from thinking of him. Joel wasn't worth the energy. Joel was a bug under your shoe to crush.

(Joel was all you ever thought about.)

At night a childish desires would plague you. The dark conjured them forth, made your mind lenient with hope, hope that he'd storm into the house like some love interest in a romcom to beg for your forgiveness, or he'd kiss you, or fuck you, or everything all at once.

When morning came, and you caught his eyes as you slipped out the house, you were reminded of the coldness in his voice, and not the warmth of his touch. What was the real Joel? Maybe it didn't matter? Joel had been fun until it wasn't anymore, a fling for the summer, nothing more– never anything more, because you didn't fall in love.

Love.

What even was love? Was it the way Joel looked at you right now as he stepped closer?

No.

You hated him.

Tears pushed at the back of your eyes, a lump building in your throat as you held them back. How could you ever love someone who'd treat you like that? You needed to leave; you'd rather die than Joel see you cry. Your father you could handle, that old wound would never close and the pain was numbed long ago, but Joel was like a wound to the gut that wouldn't stop bleeding.

"Hey," Joel's hand wrapped around your wrist, holding you back from leaving, "You okay?"

This motherfucker.

"Why do you care?" you bit back through your tears, because why did he? Why did he care? He'd been pretty clear he wanted nothing to do with you. "You didn't sign up for my antics, don't you remember?" you tore at your hand, and you slipped between his fingers.

Pushing through the door, you ran up the stairs to your room. Joel didn't bother with a reply, and you hated how it stung in your chest. The door slung shut behind you, and you collapsed on the bed. Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you wouldn't let your tears fall. Instead, your curled your knees to your chest, and focused on your breath.

Breathe in, slowly, steady, and then out again.

Again, and again.

Breathe in, and out.

Again, and again.

A knock at the door startled you, and you couldn't tell if you'd fallen asleep or lulled yourself into a false sense of peace. Sitting up, you wiped at your eyes, before jostling to your feet when the door opened.

There he stood, Joel, in the doorway of your childhood bedroom, rough jeans clasped in by a tool belt. He didn't belong in here, you didn't belong in here – not anymore. He didn't say anything, only looked around the room, like he was looking for you. Maybe he was? This was where you'd been born – the girl who felt like a complete mess – the disguise masquerading like a brat.

"What do you want?" you spat.

A frown pulled at Joel's face, and his eyes tried to catch your gaze, which you desperately avoided.

“We’re all finished up out there,” he told you, fingers twitching at his side, “We’ll be out of your hair in a couple of minutes.”

Why was he even in your room? Your dad had been out there, he’d talked to him, probably gotten the okay from him. Everything was taken care of… so why was he here?

“Okay, that’s fine,” you nodded, keeping your voice cold and devoid of any emotion. Joel cleared his throat uneasily.

“... your dad, uh, left.”

His tone was difficult to read, something akin to pity legible between the lines. You gave him a dry, sardonic smile.

“Of course.”

You scoffed, wrapping your arms around yourself as you turned your back on him, looking out the window. Of course you weren’t even worth a goodbye. You wanted it to hurt, but you’d been rejected by him your whole life. Never ever did you want it to happen again, but now you braced yourself for Joel’s rejection, of the sound of his footsteps getting quieter and quieter as he walked out of your life.

“Goin’ somewhere?” Joel said quietly, and you couldn’t hold back your head from looking past your shoulder. His eyes had found your packed bags left by the door, the bags now fuller than when you’d arrived at the start of the summer.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” you countered. You wished your voice was harder, more accusing, but it just sounded meek.

“Looks like you’re leavin’ for good.”

“I am.”

A frown pulled at Joel’s face. Confusion and sadness? You couldn’t tell what it meant, couldn’t understand him– and maybe you never had. Maybe you’d just gotten ahead of yourself, put meaning where there wasn’t any. Confused attention with adoration.

“Then it’s my business,” Joel said, almost angry. “If you're goin' away for good then I’d like to know 'bout it.”

“Why?” you snapped, your voice biting, “So now you don’t like it when I disappear quietly? You should make up your damn mind, Joel.”

Your words seemed to stun Joel into a surprised silence. If he wasn't going to leave you alone, you'd be the one to walk out instead. You didn’t have to stay here any longer and listen to him pretend to care, not when he’d made it so clear he didn’t.

The thought gnawed at you, simmering down your anger and draining you of any substantial fight. You didn’t need to re-hash this. Tonight you were going home, to your real home, and you'd never see him again. What was the point in making this harder than it had to be? You’d always thought you were tough, you are tough, and maybe all this pain had its benefits; you'd built up a bit of a callus. You were tough skin where nothing could pierce through to the core.

“Look, I don’t need to go over this again, okay?” you let out, your voice a strange mixture of anger and defeat, “I got the message, loud and clear, now can you fuck off?”

This was the first time you’d sworn at Joel like this. You wished your voice was angrier, or cold and calculated, like how his own voice had sounded when he kicked you out the door at the wedding. Instead, there was a raw undertone in your voice, a hurt you hadn’t intended for Joel to hear.

Joel's silence rubbed at you, rubbed your skin raw. You wanted him to scream at you, raise his voice and say something entirely too hurtful. At least then it would feel okay, you could leave with a good conscience. It just didn't work out. When Joel didn’t move, your jaw clenched, nose drawing an irritated breath.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

You turned towards the door, managing two or three furious steps before Joel spoke.

“Red,” he said suddenly.

It was just one word, but it was that word. Your word, our word. It stopped you in your tracks, turning to look at him with shock on your face.

“What did you say?” you asked him, and for the first time today, Joel gave you a look you could entirely decipher: he looked sad, almost in a desperate way.

“Red... “ he repeated, and you watched how his fist clenched by his side, “‘means stop, right? Can we just take a second and stop this, please?”

When you said nothing, he continued, “This ain't how I want us to be leavin’ things.”

“Us?” you echoed incredulously, “I’m pretty sure you made it very clear there was no us.”

“Jesus fucking christ,” Joel let out in an exasperated breath, "Look… I should've never said those things to you, especially when–"

“Don’t,” you said, your tone and gaze full of warning.

Don’t bring him up.

This was not a topic of conversation you were open to having with Joel.

"No, listen to me," he commanded, "D'you realize the situation you've put me in? You're the governor's daughter– d'you think I haven't seen him on TV? Seen his ads, and the pamphlets, and all his 'family values' politics? But I had you all wrong… How was I s'posed to know this was how he treated his daughter?"

Joel shook his head in anger, gathering a stuttering breath, "You don't deserve that shit, no one does. You're good, I can tell– even when you put on that little act that makes me want to fuck the daylights outta ya."

You fought it with every fiber of your being, but you felt something inside you soften as your eyes moved to meet Joel’s, the corners of his mouth twitching into the beginnings of a smile.

“You were an asshole to me,” you told him, trying to save any of the resolve and anger you had left.

“I was, and ‘m sorry 'bout it, 'nd I wish I could take it all back,” he told you earnestly, “But your behavior wasn’t perfect either... next time you want to be my date to somethin', at least give me a chance to ask you first, princess.”

“Next time?” you questioned, and you couldn't help the raise of your eyebrows.

"Well, at the risk of soundin' like a kid still in high school– I like you, okay?" Joel confessed, and you felt a heat coat your cheeks.

Joel was right – this felt like high school.

"Are you asking me to go steady with you?"

You couldn't help it, you had to push at him, but the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth made it worth it. His laugh sounded like home, and you felt yourself slip under.

Again, and again.

"Not yet," he answered, taking a step in your direction. "I wanna get to know you first, take you on a date. There’s something special ‘bout ya, I’ve seen it.” He took another step.

"You do know me," you told him.

Joel shook his head, closing the distance, "I know a brat with your name, but I know she ain't the real you." A large palm cupped your cheek, making your eyelids flutter at the touch.

"Stop hidin' from me," he whispered.

Inside, you felt something crumble as a tear made a river down your cheek. You felt yourself frown at the feeling, surprised by your own reaction. Joel's thumb rubbed over it, catching it, catching you.

"I don't know how," you confessed. The words tasted acrid on your tongue, and as you let them settle another tear ran down your cheek. Once a tear had broken free, you couldn't stop them.

"Oh, sweetheart," he cooed, your tears wetting Joel's hand as he wiped at your cheeks.

"Please don't, Joel," you begged through a shuddering breath, "I don't want your sympathy."

"It ain't sympathy. I fuckin' care ‘bout you– there's a difference."

His words hit you in the chest, knocking the breath out of you. I fuckin' care 'bout you. No one had told you something like that before; no one had cared for you or about you before. More tears streamed down your face, and this time you couldn't hold back your sob. Joel's arms were around you in a second, pressing you tightly to his chest, as a comforting palm held the back of your head.

"I didn't know," you whispered into his chest, staining his t-shirt with your tears.

"I know," he whispered back, pressing a kiss to your temple, "It's okay, princess."

His lips were so soft against your skin, so gentle, and warm. Tilting your head back, you caught his eyes, watched the deep whiskey color seeping with warmth. Without thinking you leaned forward, brushing your lips over Joel's in a kiss, a first kiss.

What his lips would taste like, you'd daydreamed about before; mint-y, sugary sweet or deep like embers? Joel didn't taste like either, he tasted like Joel, like a comforting hug, like the ecstasy of an orgasm, like a home. When you pulled away, you kept your eyes shut, not wanting to let go of the feeling of him just yet.

"Listen…"

The deep bass of Joel's voice soothed your eyes open where they stared right into Joel's. His voice had sounded steady, but his eyes gave his worry away.

"At the wedding–" Joel's voice stalled.

His eyes rested at something behind you, dancing back and forth as he searched for his words. With a shake off his head he let go of your body, taking with him the soothing safety he exuded. Looking around your room for a moment his eyes settled on your bed. He looked so out of place in your room, your mattress giving way for him where he sat at the edge.

Joel let your words sit between you, as his teeth caught on his lip, chewing. "Do you…" Joel trailed off, before he drew a deep breath. "I need ya to be honest with me now, no more games–"

"Okay…" you breathed out, your heart drumming in your chest.

Joel chewed on his lip again, his eyebrows pulled together in a frown as he searched for his words. "What was all this to you? That night at the club I thought you were pullin' my leg– why in the hell did you approach me?"

This time your face scrunched in a frown, "Why are you asking me this?"

"Just humor me, please."

Taking a deep breath you grabbed the back of your vanity chair, turning it to face Joel before you sat down. "Well, if I'm gonna be honest…" you started, "I was just looking for someone to buy me a drink. You were sitting there all alone so I thought why not. I liked that you made me work for it, it was fun, and hot, and I really wanted you to fuck me."

It was hard to interpret Joel where he sat, nodding his head with his eyes glued to the floor as he listened to you speak. "Why?" he said, looking up and finding your gaze.

"Why?" you couldn't help but chuckle, "Are you serious right now? Have you looked at yourself in the mirror– looked at your dick?"

A shy smile coated his face, and you swore you saw the apples of his cheeks flush pink. "I've looked at myself in the mirror, princess, and I ain't as young as I used to be."

"Is this why you're asking? Because you're older than me?" you wanted to know.

"I'm askin' because I'm old enough to be your daddy." In his eyes you could see a glimmer of something like shame. It was contagious, snaking its way into your chest where it squeezed around your heart.

"Are you ashamed of me?" This time you needed him to be honest, but still, you couldn't help but feel a nervousness trickle through your body as you awaited his answer.

"No," he said quickly, "It ain't that…"

"What is it then?" You almost didn't want to ask, your head swimming with answers before he could utter them.

"I'm ashamed of myself," he confessed, you felt the words run ice cold down your back. "I get that everythin' is different now– with datin' 'nd all. Nothin' wrong with a one night stand… but I'm too old to be someone's fuckbuddy. I can't be that guy for you."

"I d-don't want you to," you rushed, surprising yourself as you stumbled over the words.

The corner of his mouth twitched, a small smile telling you he didn't believe you.

"Well, you tell me nothin'. The little persona you put on is fun for sex, but it ain't fun when it has repercussions in real life. When you showed up at the wedding… I panicked, okay? For you it's all fun 'n games, but for me that's my family. What was I s'posed to say if they saw you, huh? Tell 'em that's the girl I'm fuckin'? Pretty sure my daughter would have a fuckin' aneurysm."

Joel shook his head as a shaky breath sifted through him.

"I shouldn't have said all that shit to you– I shouldn't have used that tone, but I couldn't let it continue like that… I don't want casual with you– I ain't got the energy for that sorta thing. I wanna know where I stand, I don't wanna keep guessin' what you're thinkin'… I can take your attitude, but at least be forthright with me." Joel's eyes found his hands folded in his lap.

"Okay…” you hesitated for a moment, “I think I might be falling in love with you," you confessed. The words fell out of your mouth before you could think them through, and you let them. Somehow, you weren't afraid anymore. You'd already lost the people who were supposed to be closest to you, supposed to be your family. There was nothing else to lose, just Joel, just a love.

He looked up from his lap, "You think or you are?"

Your teeth came down on your lip, chewing at a loose piece of skin as your eyebrows pulled together in a frown. "I am… I think–" you tried, your finger pinching the bridge of your nose, "I've never been in love… I don't know."

The heat rising in your cheeks had you look away from him. Across from you Joel rose to his feet and closed the small distance between you. A heavy palm found your cheek, turning your face slowly.

"D'you wanna find out?" he smiled, the rough pad of his thumb skating softly over your cheek. Joel towered over you, but you didn't feel small… you felt protected. The realization had tears press behind your eyes.

"Heyheyhey," Joel cooed, while his other hand found your cheek, "It's okay."

Drawing a shaky breath, you told him, "It's not, Joel, I'm leaving– tonight." A tear broke loose as the words left your lips.

Joel's thumbs wiped at your tears before he crouched down between your legs with a groan, his knees popping loudly. "You don't need to do anythin', princess. Y'can stay at my place until you figure things out–"

You shook your head as more tears ran down your cheeks. "I'm moving back to California, I was only supposed to stay here for the summer," you told him, "I have one year left of my engineering degree at Berkeley, and I'm starting a new internship job on Monday."

"Oh," Joel let out. If he tried to hide his surprise, he did an awful job at it; it almost made a smile crack between your tears.

"You should check your face Joel,” you told him, your tone as light as you could manage it right now, “I know you're old, but in this millennia, girls can be engineers too," you tried to jest.

He let out an incredulous breath, before he let go of your face, "I know that– but California… it ain't exactly a short drive."

In your chest, you felt a twinge, "And you don't exactly text."

Joel fell silent at your words, head dipping forward, and you swore you could hear the cogs turning in his head. With a groan he stood to his feet, backing up to sit at your bed again.

"Look," he started, his eyes catching yours, "I wanna give this a go, if you wanna give this a go."

"I do," you hurried, and Joel nodded.

"You leavin' makes this a hell of a lot more complicated…" he sighed, "If we're gonna do this thing, I wanna do it right… take you on a date– treat you right."

"I'd like that," you smiled, and you knew it was the truth.

Dating had been a means to an end; free meals in the exchange for mediocre sex for a month or three (or however long it took you to die of boredom). Dating Joel would be different; it would be real. At the start of the summer, you hadn't realized how starved you'd been for something like this, how you'd filled up on emptiness all your life and mistaken it for love.

"I got 'nother job lined up startin' next week, but I should be able to take the weekend off in a month or so," Joel told you.

Inside your chest, you felt like you'd swallowed a bag of butterflies. "You wanna come visit me?" you asked, a genuine smile tugging at your lips.

"'f you'll have me, princess."

Rising from your chair, you crossed the space between you on eager feet, slotting between his spread legs. Cupping his cheeks in your hands, you let your thumb run over his beard, the thick bristles tickling your skin. His face softened in your hands, and inside you felt the wound torn open by Joel, start to close up.

There wasn’t a chance in hell you’d give up the opportunity of being with Joel, but there was one condition…

"Only if you promise to never treat me like that ever again. I'll stomp on your fucking balls– is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," Joel said, a grin tugging at the side of his mouth.

Pleased, you climbed into his lap, locking your arms around his neck as you felt his large palms settle at your hips.

With your face only inches from his own, you commanded, "Say that again."

"Yes…" he grinned, his hands sliding lower to grip your ass, "Ma'am."

Pressing your lips against his, you felt something heavy fall off your heart. A weight so heavy if Joel's hands weren't on you, you'd float away. Joel licked into your mouth, deepening the kiss and exploring your mouth. Your fingers threaded through his hair, pressing him closer and closer to your body. You wished you could meld with him, become one, something strong and resilient.

When your hips started to grind against the hardening bulge in his pants, you mumbled against his lips. "One last time for the road?"

His laugh tasted sweet like honey, and you tried to lick up every sugary breath of it. His hands on your ass tightened as you rolled your hips again, his fingers making dents through the rough fabric of your jeans.

Pulling away, the sound of your wet lips smacked against the walls. Joel's grin looked infuriatingly cocky as he took in the state of you; your lips rawed and sticky with spit, and your eyes filled to the brim with lust.

"I ain't fuckin' you again until I've taken you on a date," he told you with a light smack against your ass.

"You can't be serious," you whined, head tilting as you pushed your lip out in a pout.

"Oh, I'm dead serious, princess. I'm gonna do this right, 'n that means you gotta be a good girl f'me 'n behave." Joel's voice dropped an octave as he whispered the last words in your ear, and a shiver ran down your back at the promise.

"But not too good," you told him, a smile coating your lips.

"No, I like you a little bratty."

"When does you flight land again?"

Propped up in bed, fluffy pillows soft against your back, you pressed your phone to your ear. A month had never passed as slowly as these past weeks. The new internship and settling into your new classes might've had something to do with it – you'd been overwhelmed with work – but the promise of Joel at the end of it had you longing.

"Five thirty– I already told ya yesterday, princess."

He did, right after he'd guided you towards a shaking orgasm just from his words. Joel had promised to text, but he was awful at it. You know he'd tried, replying to your texts sporadically throughout the day, but you'd quickly given up on anything substantial from him in that department. When he'd suggested a phone call before bed you'd grimaced at the thought, but hearing the deep bass through his drawl every night had you convinced without a fight – especially when you'd managed to tease him into spilling filth down the line.

"I know… but in my defense I was a little out of it," you reminded him.

Joel's chuckled, a deep rumbling laugh that dripped like honey in your ears. "Really? I couldn't tell," he teased.

"Shut up," you laughed.

"I don't think you want that," you could hear the grin coating his face.

He was right, you didn't want that. What you wanted was to talk to him all night, hear the static bass of his voice in your ear. It didn't matter what he said, what language he spoke, if the lilt was high or low, you just wanted to talk to him. But more importantly you wanted him in your bed – so you told him just that.

"What I want is: you here, in my bed, right now with your cock inside me," you pouted.

Your words pulled another laugh from Joel. "Well, then, you ought to be patient, princess."

"I'm very unfamiliar with that concept," you told him, a teasing lilt covering your words, "I'm used to getting what I want."

"Oh I know… but we ain't doin' this again, princess…" he told you, his voice dropping with sternness, "As a matter of fact, I don't want you touching yourself at all until I can get my hands on you. 's that clear?"

"Do you promise to punish me if I do?" you wondered, your teeth coming down to nibble on your bottom lip through a smile.

"I promise to keep my hands to myself and my pants buttoned for the whole weekend– does that sound like a nice punishment, brat?"

"Jesus christ," you sighed, "I guess I gotta be good until tomorrow, then."

"I'll make it up to you," he promised through a laugh.

"You better," you teased.

Pulling into the parking lot next to your apartment building, his words skipped around your brain. I'll make it up to you.

Now well into September, the days close to knocking on October's door, Joel had been a constant presence in your head ever since you’d left Austin. Your thoughts of him wandered away in your classes, conjuring him forth when you slipped a hand into your panties, and even filled up your dreams.

But the flimsy fantasy version of him was nothing compared to the solid form next to you. In the parking lot the sun slipped beneath the skyline and the golden orange light coming through your car windows kissed Joel's cheek, and bathed him in the last drops of the sun.

He was here, finally, his hand brushing against yours as you led him inside.

"It ain't how I pictured it," he spoke; the leather strap of his bag slipped from his shoulder.

You hadn't realized that you'd held your breath before it released at his words. It was like you'd been waiting for your bubble to burst, that he wasn't really here, forever a static voice speaking down your phone. But his voice was clear, and deep, and real; and Joel was flesh and blood standing beside you in your apartment. You didn't need to hold your breath anymore.

"How did you picture it?" you asked, genuinely curious as you led him deeper inside your apartment.

"I don't know…" he trailed off, his eyes darting through your space, "Bigger, maybe?"

You hummed, following his eyes as he took in your space – the furniture you'd picked out special, and the art you hadn't had time to hang yet – it was a one-bedroom, but it was enough for you. The previous year you'd lived with roommates in a fancier apartment closer to campus. Socially it was great living with your classmates, but they were all boys, and at one point when the apartment looked especially dirty, you'd considered hiring a housekeeper. But the downsides weighed lightly against the upsides, and you’d never felt lonely, not like you'd done home in Austin.

"I don't want that anymore… there's nothing lonelier than a big house." The words settled between you, a comfortable silence while you tried not to think about what Joel was thinking, as you felt his gaze burn at your cheek.

“Come here,” he said, slipping an arm over your shoulders, tucking you close to his chest. “Let’me look at ya.”

The rough pads of his fingers pushed at your jaw, tilting your head to look at him. A soft smile blossomed over his face, his eyes deepening with a soothing warmth.

"You see something?" you asked, your eyes flicking to his lips.

"You ain't lonely anymore," he told you before he leaned closer in a kiss.

The brush of his lips had your eyes fluttering shut, and the press of his lips against yours awakened a burning pit in your tummy – the flames licking at your insides and igniting your want. The words he’d promised you over the phone played like a broken record in the back of your mind.

I'll make it up to you.

Clawing at the hair at the nape of his neck, your desperate hand pulled him closer, eager to fill your tank up on Joel.

“Bedroom,” you mumbled, the word fanned against his lips, "It's been so long and I deserve it– I've worked all fucking week."

"Deserve it, huh?" he hummed, pulling away to catch your blown out and moony eyes.

"Yes, Joel," you whined, pressing your lips against his again. But Joel wouldn't have it, letting you get one good kiss in before he pulled away again, eliciting a pouty whine from your throat.

"Patience," he told you, teasing smile hanging off his mouth while the hand splayed across the side of your face tightened. "I already told ya, I ain't fuckin' you until you've taken me out."

Letting out an petulant huff, you stepped away, crossing your arms over your chest. "So, now I'm taking you on a date?" you asked with the raise of an eyebrow.

A smile tugged at his lips as he regarded you, a teasing glint in his eye. Hooking an arm around your waist, he pulled you closer, "Yes, you ought to wine and dine this old man after a long day of travel."

"Well you could've told me earlier," you moaned, leaning back in his embrace with drama, your arms still wrapped around yourself as you looked at him through your lashes. "All the good restaurants are probably full at this hour…" you trailed off, "let's just get take-out," you said, pleased at your work-around.

His other hand joined the other on your waist, "Nah-uh, princess, ain't a real date until we're eatin' out."

Raising an eyebrow at him, the innuendo wasn't lost on you. With a knowing shake of your head, you told him, "No, you just want me to beg."

Joel's eyes narrowed playfully at you, his head tilting in a playful scrutinized way, "Well, you beg so pretty f'me."

This time you were the one to narrow your eyes at him, your face scrunched together in the slightest frown. Staring at him like that, you tried to break him down, but Joel was used to your antics, and he didn't break.

Letting out another fussy huff, you said, "So… if I take you out to eat, you'll fuck me after?"

"If the foods good," he teased, one hand sliding down to squeeze your ass.

He was insufferable, you thought through a sigh, rolling your eyes at him as you slipped from his grip.

"Come on then, old man."

After a change of clothes and a visit to the bathroom to freshen up, you pondered over your usual 'rule': You didn't fuck on the first date. Sure, you weren't a stranger to a one night stand after a night out, but if a man were to take you out, you wanted to at least give it a shot before you gave it all up.

"Usually, I never fuck on the first date," you told him as the elevator hummed around you. Joel's hand rested comfortably at your lower back, and you found that you liked it– liked his casual show of affection. You didn't know why you said it. Maybe as a last resort to convince him to click the button to your floor and take you back up to your bed?

Joel didn't look at you as a smile that gave nothing away spread across his face. His response was cut off by the elevator dinging, and with his hand at your back he guided you out the elevator.

"Well, too bad for you then, princess," he hummed teasingly in your ear, which earned him a playful shove before you led him down the street.

Blitzes of red, green, and blue danced over Joel's face, the bright neon light tugging at his features in playful shadows. Overhead, the sky had darkened with night over the parking lot. It was empty, safe for the food truck parked by the entrance.

Before you'd moved back home to Austin for the summer, you'd been apartment hunting in this area. It was by sheer luck you'd found it, so close to your internship job with only a couple of blocks away. And when the sun hung high in the sky, this parking lot filled with hungry office workers eager for a well made burrito or taco. You knew because you liked to watch them from up high, the building where you did your internship giving you the perfect view of the small ants. Sometimes one of those ants was you.

The tired wood of the picnic table felt rough against your skin and it wobbled slightly if either of you put too much weight on it. In the background the truck generator hummed away between your bites, but somehow this felt perfect.

"How's your taco?" you asked, a smile hanging off your lips as you broke the comfortable silence that had settled between you and Joel.

"God damn good," Joel nodded, taking another bite.

"Right?" you smiled, a proud warmth settled in your chest. "Looks like I'm getting my dick wet later," you teased.

The laugh that rumbled out of Joel's chest, bubbled up inside you, feeding you more than the tacos. It almost took you by surprise, the feelings he'd conjured forth inside you, stronger now in his presence. Maybe all those #1 hits, and romcoms were right after all?

"We'll see," he winked.

Gulping down his second taco, Joel wiped his hand on a napkin before he wrapped a hand around his beer bottle. He watched you with a smile, how you tried your best to bite into your own taco without everything falling out.

"Too big f'you, princess?" he teased, "Shouldn't be a problem f'you, huh? You've taken bigger than that."

"Ah!" you exclaimed, mouth too full to say anything else. Kicking your foot under the table, you hit his shin lightly in a reprimand.

Joel only laughed it off, before taking a swig of his beer.

“That’s it,” he said, his eyes falling on you playfully, “Good girl.”

You couldn't hold back from letting out something between a snort and a sound. It resulted in an unceremonious amount of salsa to drip out of your mouth and onto the plate, which only made Joel laugh harder as you struggled to swallow down the huge bite of taco.

When you finally managed, you gave Joel a half-pointed, half-amused look, “Asshole.”

“You love it, sweetheart,” he said through a chuckle, and somehow the light words hit a little harder than you'd thought. Could you love Joel? Maybe you already did.

Shaking your head, you tried to rid yourself of your new discovery. “Don't be a brat Joel,” you said in a sing-songy voice, trying to hide your growing smile behind another bite out of your taco.

Joel chuckled again at the inside joke, and a sense of pride grew in your chest. “That a threat, baby?” he returned, raising a single eyebrow as he regarded you.

You gave him a nonchalant shrug as you swallowed down your taco. “Just a warning,” you told him simply, and now Joel’s lips curved into a smirk.

“A warning, huh?” he repeated as his eyes ran down the length of you and back up. He took his time, making sure you felt his gaze over your skin before he uncrossed his arms and leaned towards you over the table, “Thought I was the only one handin' out warnings ‘round here.”

“Roles can change,” you replied simply, your own smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. Joel crossed his arms under himself this time, still leaning on the table as he considered you, twinkle in his eye.

“Yeah?" he tsk-ed, "Y'gonna give me a run for my money, princess?” he asked after a second, his voice a fraction deeper than it was before.

“Shouldn't be too hard,” you told him with your sweetest smile.

Joel only looked at you as a smile tugged at the side of his mouth. The dark brown of his eyes coaxed you deeper, drew you in, like a magnetic force pulled you across the table.

God, you wanted him.

It was an almost overwhelming thought, Joel was too overwhelming. To settle your brain, your cleared your throat, looking away first.

“You, uh–… you want any dessert?” you asked, trying not to act flustered, "Their churros are really good."

“Y’haven’t even finished your taco, princess,” he pointed out with an amused lilt to his voice.

Right.

Continuing your act, you snorted as you picked up your last taco. “I meant after, obviously.” The smile on Joel's face had a hot flush of warmth climb up your neck to your cheeks.

“‘m alright f’now I think,” he said with a nod towards his plate, where he had one last taco left.

As you and Joel ate your last tacos, he told you about the lady he'd been sat next to on the flight. A real southern lady, he told you, "like sittin' next to the mouth of the south." The genuine tiredness in his voice as he talked about it, had a cooing laugh escape you, and you reached out your arm across the table to slot it in his.

When both of you were full and satisfied with tacos, Joel cleaned up your plates while you fished a cigarette from your purse. You offered one to him as he sat down, to which he shook his head, "You know those'll kill ya."

Tilting your head, you rolled your eyes at him with a smile, "I know."

Joel watched you light your cigarette, the flame brightening your face for a split second, before he spoke up, "I've been meaning to ask ya…"

"Hm?" you looked at him, inhaling the first tar-y breath and exhaling away from him through the side of your mouth.

"How'd everythin' go with your…" he hesitated, "Uh, your father."

Joel watched how your face changed at the mention of him, how you looked away from him like the words had stung you.

"I ain't gonna say I wasn't eavesdroppin' on y'all's conversation," he confessed.

Drawing a deep breath, you flicked the ash into your empty beer bottle. "It went like it always does," you shrugged, "He threatened me some more, and then I threatened him back. He's more concerned about his reputation than me, so I told him I'd post the truth about him if he disinherited me… shut him up real quick."

"I'm sorry, baby," Joel said with a shake of his head, "That ain't how you're s'posed to treat your kids."

"Well," you shrugged, taking another drag. "I'm used to it," you exhaled.

A silence settled between you, the only sound the sizzling burn of your cigarette as you took another drag, and the quiet humming of the truck generator. His words settled in your chest, and a curiosity you'd previously strangled resurfaced. Joel had a daughter.

"Was it hard, um…" you struggled to find the right words, pinching your eyebrows together as you searched. Joel leaned his elbows on the table, tipping it towards him, listening intently. "For your, uh, daughter when you got divorced?"

"Divorced?" he questioned, bushy brows pulling together in a confused frown. A second passed as he searched your face for answers. "Oh, right," he chuckled, his face smoothing out as he sat back, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "I was never married to Sarah's mom– I've never been married, baby."

"What?" Now you were confused, sporting the same frown he had, "But you said–"

"Yeah, I know," he cut you off, "But technically you put the words in my mouth, 'nd I didn't know where all this–" he pointed between you, "–was headin' so I… I just let you believe it."

"Oh."

“Sorry,” Joel said after a second as he processed your answer, “Probably should've said somethin' but–”

“No,” you said, shaking your head, “I didn’t really ask, did I? Just assumed.”

Another silence fell over the two of you while you inhaled another breath of smoke. Joel watched you, studied you as he gulped down the last of his beer. Placing the bottle gently down against the wood, Joel continued.

“So no… Never got married, and never got divorced.”

“What happened?” you asked him gently, not sure if he wanted you to ask or not, “With Sarah’s mom?”

Joel looked down at his lap for a second, like the answer laid in his lap before he looked up with a shrug. “There ain’t much to tell, honestly… high school sweethearts, just a couple of stupid kids who made a stupid mistake.”

“But you kept the baby?”

“Yeah,” Joel said through a sigh, “We live in Texas darlin’, and back then it… it just wasn't an option for us.”

Joel shook his head, before he cleared his throat. “Anyway, we convinced ourselves we’d set up our own little family, neither of us would go off to college and we’d just work… I got a carpenter job, she waited tables– it was a total fantasy in hindsight, of course, but we didn’t know it then.”

You listened intently as Joel opened up, and noticed how he avoided your eyes. He played it cool, but you could clearly see from his body language, that this wasn't a topic he spoke about often. The realization felt disjointed, a happiness inside you at being trusted by Joel dulled by the pain hidden behind his words.

“Pregnancy was fine, even the job was goin' okay, but as soon as Sarah was born it all went to shit… we had no idea what we were in for and it was hard. We were overworked, broke, exhausted and covered in poop and puke, it wasn’t pretty.”

“Wow, you make parenthood seem like such a joy,” you told him sarcastically, trying to draw a smile across his face, but Joel only snorted.

“Whoever sells that lie should go to jail,” he said with a scoff, “Let me tell you– there ain’t nothin' harder in this world than raisin’ a child.”

This time you had to look away from Joel, the words tugging at something in your own heart; that wound that never closed. Was that why he hated you so badly? Why she didn’t want to see you? That couldn't be right, they never even tried. But you remembered those who did, the revolving doors of all the nannies who'd held you when you'd cried, blew on your knees when you scraped them, played with you in the tree house, and tucked you into bed. You were half-way through your twenties now, it was time to grow your old wounds – it was time to finally let go.

“It was too hard for her, I guess… one afternoon I came home from work and she’d packed all her bags, left Sarah in her high chair with a note– 'I'm sorry' it said. I never heard from her again, but her parents told me she’s livin’ up in Seattle now. They didn’t hear from her for a while either– almost had the police involved…”

Stumping out your cigarette, you reached across the table for his hand, “What did you do?”

“I was angry first, called her 'bout a million times 'nd got an out-of-service message, which meant she’d dumped her phone already… when it sunk in I wasn’t going to see her again I was scared shitless… here I was, barely twenty years old with a six-month old baby and no freaking idea what I was doin', and the one person I was s’posed to be doing it with had just disappeared into thin air,” Joel explained, before he let out a sigh, “Poor girl probably had some kind of postpartum depression, but we were so overwhelmed with the baby we could barely keep our lives together– 'nd I was so preoccupied with Sarah I never really addressed it… in hindsight, I feel like I failed her, y’know? I should’ve noticed, paid more attention to what she needed… I never wanted to fail my family ever again.”

"So you raised your kid.”

Joel gave you a nod, as he pursed his lips together. “I raised my kid… 'nd Tommy helped me a lot. He was just a kid, 'nd he didn't have to do it, but he moved in– watched Sarah while I was at work up until he joined the army 'nd I could afford a sitter…" Joel trailed off, his eyebrows knitting together as his breath stalled in his throat.

"I remember one night…" he started, "Sarah screamed so loud, kept on cryin' 'n cryin', and I couldn't figure out what she wanted. I'd walked around the whole house, carried her for hours until it felt like my arms were gonna fall off. It would be so easy to just give up right then 'nd there… but as I looked at her, at my perfect little baby I promised myself that I'd never make the same mistake again as I had with her mother– I'd always put my babygirl first no matter what…”

Joel let out a sigh as his eyes finally caught yours.

“I guess that’s why I was so mean with you, when you showed up at the wedding. This is my family, y’know? They mean the world to me, always been my priority, always will be… I didn’t want the decisions that I had made to affect them,” he sat up a little straighter, squeezing your hand before he looked at you intently, “I realize now that wasn’t fair to you either, so ’m sorry ‘bout that–”

You shook your head, biting down on the underside of your lip as you fought the tears that pressed at the back of your eyes. Never in your life had something so rudimentary as family mattered in your life. Family to you was something to escape, a randomized lottery that assigned you to people you had nothing in common with. Not once had it occurred to you that your actions could have had consequences for Joel's relationship with his family – and never did it occur to you that those relationships mattered.

“No, I’m sorry,” you told him, with an embarrassed shake of your head, “When I showed up at that wedding… I– I was only thinking of me and what I wanted, not about any consequences it could have for you… I guess I’m not really used to the idea of thinking about what or who matters to others… especially family.”

The last word died on your tongue as your eyes found your lap. The weight of what you'd said, penetrated through your heart, made you hear it for the first time. Across from you, Joel was silent for a long time as you sat with your confession, digesting it at your own pace.

"I know…" Joel suddenly said with a squeeze of your hand, "I forgive you."

His words had a finality to them you found hard to believe. There was no bite of anger, or falseness hidden behind sincerity, only the truth.

"I forgave you weeks ago, baby, after…” He let the words die on his tongue but you knew what he meant – after he’d seen you with your father. “Let's leave it in the past, ‘nd focus on enjoyin’ these days together.”

Joel didn't give you an opportunity to reply before he stood to his feet, reaching out a large palm for you to hold. Slotting your hand in his, he guided you past the food truck and out onto the street, holding your hand the whole way home.

"I didn't know you wore glasses," you said softly, leaning against the doorframe to your bedroom.

Joel was already under your covers, propped up against the headboard where he scrolled on his phone. He didn't look up right away, so you took your time to study him as you walked closer with slow steps. One graying curl hung over his forehead, his head tipped slightly forward as he tapped with one finger. His tanned exposed skin looked soft like silk, and you wanted to trace your fingers down the graying thatch of hair speckled down his chest.

At the sound of a quiet wosh! he finally looked up from his phone.

His glasses sat low on his nose where behind the glass his eyes rolled over you, and the brand new set of lingerie adorning your body. The transparent mesh was the perfect shade of green, one that complimented your skin so well it might as well have been made specifically for you. The bra was simple with embroidered flowers weaved through the mesh. The same embroidered flowers adorned the thong, barely concealing your mound. Usually, you wouldn't go for something like this, it wasn't your style– too cute, but there was something about it that made you feel so sexy. Maybe it was the mesh, the way the thin string of the thong split your cheeks in two, or maybe it was the small bow at the back.

You knew you looked hot, but you hoped Joel would like it anyway, you’d bought it just for him.

Joel placed his phone slowly on your night stand, a wide grin spreading across his face. Then he leaned forward slightly, scrunching his face together in a playful squint, "So, this is whatcha look like!?"

You couldn't contain the giggle slipping through your teeth. Joel's smile hung loose, and he leaned back casually, silently inviting you into his lap.

"I like them… You look hot in them," you told him, climbing up in his lap.

"I use 'em only for readin'," he explained, taking in the sight of you before him with wandering hands.

His rough palms over your skin left goosebumps in their wake. You let him touch you, let him familiarize himself with the fabric as you leaned forward and slipped the glasses off his nose.

"You're somethin' else aren't you, princess?" The low timber in his voice had a wetness soil your panties.

"Do you like it, Daddy?" you wondered breathlessly as one of his fingers slipped through the thin band of your thong where it traced the skin underneath. "I missed your birthday… but I hope this makes up for it?" you asked, a lilt of innocence coating your words as you rocked your hips against his.

Joel's smile sat wide and toothy on his face; forming small creases around his eyes. Under you, you felt his hardening cock grow. You couldn't help but rock your hips again, chasing the feeling of him after waiting so long – you needed him now.

"Y'look real pretty, princess… so beautiful– how'd I get so lucky, huh?"

One large palm cupped your cheek and brought you closer to his face. His lips tasted fresh and mint-y when he brushed them over yours in a soft kiss. Under your skin your body buzzed with anticipation. His kiss was short; leaving you wanting more, always wanting more.

"Too bad you don't fuck on the first date," he teased, leaning back and letting his hands fall to your ass where they landed with a playful smack!

Jumping slightly from the impact, a breathy whine escaped your throat, "I can make an exception."

"Really?" he grinned, raising a single eyebrow at you, "Just f'me?"

Pushing out your lip, you gave him an impatient pout. "You promised you'd make it up to me if I didn't touch myself…" you moaned, "And I didn't."

Joel tilted his head in feigned sympathy; his hands on your ass drawing soft circles into the skin. "That's sweet, princess," he hummed before he let out a forced sigh, "I did promise ya, didn't I?"

"Yes," you nodded with a rock of your hips against his hard cock.

"Alright then," Joel said, his fingers finding the bow at the back of your thong, "Let me make it up to ya."

The silk bow keeping the thin strings of your thong together dwindled into scraps with one tug from Joel. Something drew your closer, like something bright and loud inside your chest clawed out for him. This time it would be for real – no more act to play, and no more hiding. The thought bubbled with nerves in your throat.

After discarding your thong in the bed sheets to get lost, Joel's hands cradled your face, bringing you closer. The crook of his nose grazed gently against yours before he pressed his lips against yours.

You let yourself be explored by him, savoring the way his tongue tasted in your mouth, how he took the lead like it was the most natural thing in the world. Inside, you felt like you were about to burst; so many pent up feelings finally breaking free from his kiss. You couldn't help but grind against him; the fluffed duvet in the way of any real friction the way you wanted it, but you craved him either way.

"I know, baby," he hummed against your lips, "That pussy's aching f'me ain't it?"

"Yes," you breathed through a whine, "Please, Joel."

"Alright, princess," he soothed, "So polite for once, huh?"

"Yeah, you better savor it," you teased against him, "Because it's not happening again."

With a breathy chuckle, he pulled away to tap at the thick of your thigh. Twisting your eyebrows together in a confused frown you got off his lap. Between your legs you felt your arousal stick wetly against your inner thighs as you sat back on your knees beside him. Joel pushed the duvet away before he shuffled down the bed, exposing his body, before he laid his head down on the pillows.

"C'mon then," he waved his hand at your expectantly. "Let me take care of ya."

Not moving, your frown grew deeper at his words while your hands collected like a nervous tick in your lap.

"Sit on my face, baby, let me taste that sweet pussy."

Sit on Joel's face?

Your teeth came down to nibble on your bottom lip, as a small shiver of insecurity raced up your back. It’s not supposed to look like that, is it? It’s not supposed to look like that, is it? It’s not supposed to look like that, is it? You shifted on your knees unsteadily, the mattress dipping you forward where his body weighed it down.

You couldn't look at him, so your eyes found your hands in you lap. Why did you need to go through this again? What was his obsession with it exactly? To see you humiliated? And not in the fun way.

"Hey… you okay?" Joel asked, his tone low and soft. He sat up on his elbow, his body turned curiously towards you.

The way he looked at you, his eyes dark and warm and full of… something, had your cheeks filling with a blazing heat. Shaking your head, you tried to will the embarrassment away. You didn't want him to see you like that– it wasn't supposed to be like this, not this time.

"Yes." You pulled yourself together, lips tugging at a teasing smile you hoped would put Joel at ease.

Leaning forward – making sure to push your ass out and arch your back for him – you tugged at the waistband of his underwear where you could peek the outline of his hard cock straining against the cotton. Before you could pull them down, Joel's hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you. Tilting your head curiously towards him, you could see a smirk coat his face.

"'s that whatcha want?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, and you nodded. "Greedy girl," he tsk-ed through his grin.

His strong hands were around your waist before you had time to think, manhandling your legs over his chest, exposing you and your wet center to his waiting mouth. A panic gripped your heart then, and you sat up with haste, slipping off his body.

"Don't do that, Joel," you let out, your tone laced with an unintended annoyance.

A frown pulled at his eyebrows as he sat up; his eyes bounced over your body and then your face.

"Red?" he asked, concern spilling across his face.

A sigh fell from your lips as a hand came up to rub at your face. When you didn't say anything right away, his hand caught your own, pulling it away while his other soothing palm found your cheek.

"Red?" he asked again, a little sterner – demanding an answer.

You shook your head in his hand, the words on your tongue failing you.

"What is it then, princess?"

The tenderness in his voice almost broke you down, hacking at the crumbling wall shielding you from him. Joel cared about you. He'd told you that, came all this way to make it crystal clear. So why couldn't you let him?

"Do you wanna get your dick sucked or what?"

Shaking off his palm you could feel ashamed later for slipping into your outdated disguise. This was how the sex with Joel was supposed to go – how it always went. But Joel wouldn't have it.

"Well, now I'm sayin' it– Red."

Inside, your heart sunk like a stone in water, and before you knew it you felt tears fight their way forward. You'd ruined it– your perfect day with Joel was ruined. Cautiously finding his face, you expected Joel to be angry, but the tenderness in his eyes as he looked at you hit you like a sucker punch.

"Let's stop for a minute, baby. Clearly there's somethin' botherin' you. I knew I saw it last time– what's goin' on?" he wanted to know. "Tell me," he grabbed your hand, slotting your fingers together as he held your gaze with an intensity that burned. "'n no more hidin', remember?"

No more hiding.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you managed to push back your tears as a stuttering sigh escaped you.

Okay.

Opening your eyes slowly, you gathered your courage. "I feel like I'm ruining everything," you confessed, your voice breaking a little as you told him the truth.

"That ain't true," Joel frowned, "'f you don't want this anymore, we can stop–"

"I don't want to stop," you cut him off, "I want this– you so badly! I've been thinking about it all day– all month long, b-but I…" you stuttered.

"But you don't like oral?" Joel finished for you, his frown deepening in confusion.

You shook your head, "I– um… no, not really."

Joel was silent for a second, eyes boring into you as you tried to avoid his gaze.

This was embarrassing.

“There a specific reason f’that, pretty girl?” he asked you as his hand holding yours tightened just a little while dipping his head to meet your eyes.

Your cheeks burned furiously as you looked at Joel, trying for a nonchalant shrug. “I-It just–… it doesn’t feel good.”

At that, Joel raised a single eyebrow in surprise, considering you.

“It doesn’t feel good?” he repeated, "I seem to remember you enjoyin' yourself last time…" You watched how a frown pulled at his face, his own words sinking in and replacing them with a sliver of doubt. "Or am I wrong?"

This time, Joel was the one who wouldn't meet your gaze, acting surprisingly bashful. Quickly, you shook your head, "No."

Joel's face twisted into a sad smile, and the way he looked at you told you he didn't believe you. "Y'can be honest with me. If I did somethin' you didn't like– you gotta tell me."

"It wasn't you who did it," you muttered, voice low like a whisper, the only way the words could leave your lips.

"You gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me," Joel let out in an exasperated sigh, his tone backed up by anger. Squeezing your hand again, he demanded your attention. "Who did then? Tell me, baby– some twenty-somethin’ asshole say something he shouldn’t have?”

Your eyes widened slightly at his words, surprised that he wasn’t even that far off, and the memories pushed their way forward. It’s not supposed to look like that, is it? His mocking laugh echoed in your head. The way he'd licked your mound with a scrunch of his nose as you'd wished you could've sunk through the bed.

Even though you hadn’t uttered a word, Joel had read your expression telling him he'd hit the nail on the head, and now his brows knitted into a frown.

“Baby,” he told you, his voice so tender it made your head spin. One of his hands let go of your palm, bringing his fingers up to graze the pads softly over the edge of your jaw. “We’ll do whatever you want, it’s your choice… but I wantcha to know that I think you've got the prettiest fuckin' pussy I’ve ever seen– the sweetest tastin' too.”

Dropping your head, you squeezed your eyes shut. Joel's hand slid from your jaw to cover the side of your face, the palm covering your ear and half the world disappeared. You were silent for a second, before you took a small breath.

“You mean that?”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean, princess,” he told you, tilting your head up to meet his eyes, “m’not lying either, you know… it’s the only fucking thing I can think about, only thing I wanna see when I’m fucking ya– wanna see just how good she looks wrapped 'round me.”

You couldn't fight the smile from breaking, your eyelashes fluttering bashfully as you turned your head. "You can't just say that… this is supposed to be a tender moment."

Joel's laugh rumbled through his chest. "I'm a contractor, princess, I ain't no poet. I dunno how to wax poetic 'bout your pussy."

"I don't need you to do that," you told him through a laugh, turning your head back to look at him.

"Good," he smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkling.

He studied you for a beat, before he leaned back against the pillows with an inviting raised arm. "C'mon. Let's get some sleep, baby."

“Sleep?” you asked him, the disappointment evident in your tone, “But, I–… I haven’t even sucked your cock.”

“Y’gonna let me eat you out?” Joel returned, and you crinkled your nose.

“Joel,” you whined, dragging out the vowels as your hands covered your face. A small laugh escaped Joel, and quickly his hands came up to gently pry yours away.

“Baby, I don’t wantcha doin' anythin' that makes you uncomfortable, but I also wanna make you feel good,” he told you, “I don’t believe in one-sided exchanges, and if m’honest, the only thing I can think about right now is buryin' my head between those pretty thighs and makin' you scream my name for the next five hours.”

The casual confidence in his voice sent a shudder down your spine where it pooled between your thighs. He did make you come last time, you remembered, and it had felt really really good. Still, that old insecurity at the back of your neck clung to you like a poltergeist. After a second of silence, watching the conflict on your face, Joel drew a deciding breath.

“Tell you what baby,” he said as you felt his hands gently grab at your waist and pull you towards him, “Think I know a way we can both get what we want.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked grudgingly, “What’s that, hm?”

Joel leaned forward and slotted his lips against yours gently, pulling you deeper into a sense of safety. After a second he pulled back, teeth trapping your bottom lip.

“You still have to sit on m'face,” Joel told you with a smirk, “But I’ll level with ya princess, you can do whatchu want, and I’ll make sure to keep ya distracted… promise.”

A beat passed as you let his proposal settle between you. A thought of how you could always say your safeword if you absolutely hated it crossed your mind. He'd established it so early in your relationship, set the boundaries between you clearly and you knew Joel would never force you to do anything you didn't want to do.

Drawing a deep breath through your nose, you let out a breathy, "Okay."

Joel's smile brightened before he leaned closer to press another gentle kiss to your lips, "Attagirl."

Turning you around, Joel helped you swing your leg over his broad chest where his palms settled over your hips. Maneuvering your hips backwards he positioned your exposed cunt to his face.

Afraid to put your whole weight on him, you hovered, your knees digging deeply into the mattress on either side of his head. As reassuring as Joel had been, being this exposed still made you nervous, and you couldn't help the way your body tensed up. Trying to distract yourself from what Joel thought about you, you focused on your distraction; Joel's straining cock hidden away behind the woven cotton of his underwear.

Pulling at the elastic band, you slowly revealed the length of him inch by inch. A pleased smile tugged at your lips as you took him in your hand; his thigh reacting in a twitch at your touch. He still had the prettiest cock you'd ever seen, veiny and thick, and perfectly heavy in your hand. Leaning down, you pressed a light kiss to the skin right above the base; the dark and silver wiry hair tickled your skin as you inhaled the masculine musk of him – of Joel, your Joel.

Joel's greedy fingers dug deliciously into your skin, as his dominant hand glided up your back, pushing you to lay your weight on him. You couldn't see what he was doing, only feel the hot breath of him so close to the core of you.

"She looks so pretty drippin' f'me," his voice rasped, placing a fluttering kiss through your folds, "'n she tastes even better."

You couldn't help the stuttering breath that escaped you, your eyes squeezing shut as Joel licked a stripe from your clit to your hole, tasting you unabashedly with a content hum. His fingers dug deeper into your skin as you whined, holding you firmly against his mouth to keep you from squirming away.

Focusing back at your task at hand, you tightened your fist around his cock, gathering a blob of spit in your mouth and let it slowly drip down the length of him. You watched your spit run over your knuckles before you started to work your hand up and down his length, thumbing over the head to mix your spit with the precum sprouting from the tip as you wet his cock with slick squelching tugs. Against your stomach, you could feel his chest vibrate in a content hum.

Kneading your ass cheeks firmly, Joel spread you apart for him before you felt him spit harshly against your cunt. The spit ran down your folds, gathering at the flat of his tongue where he circled it around your clit. You tensed at the contact, your face pulling together in the slightest of frowns of pleasure.

"Shit," you let out in a breath.

Pleased at the reaction he'd pulled from you, Joel hummed against your cunt, wet and spread open for him to devour. "Yeah? That feel good, princess?"

"Uh-huh," you moaned, your hand stilled at the base of his cock, as he traced circles around your clit with his tongue.

Cocking his hips, Joel reminded you of your neglected job. Pulling yourself together, you tightened your fist around him again. Mesmerized, you lowered your head and dropped open your mouth, slapping the wet length of him against your waiting tongue. Pleased, you hummed at the first salty taste of him, the familiar heaviness of him in your mouth. Enveloping him in your mouth, you closed your lips around the mushroom tip to tease the head with your circling tongue, making him twitch in your mouth at the new stimulation.

The way his mouth had latched around your clit, sucking and flicking it expertly, made it hard to concentrate. So much was happening all at the same time, his tongue devouring you, urging you towards a long awaited orgasm, but judging from the way he started to buck his hips into your mouth, you figured the same thing was happening to him.

Trying your best to keep your focus, you started to bop your head. Relaxing your throat, this new angle made it easier to take the hefty length of him down your throat, and you found that you liked it. Pushing your head deeper, you gagged yourself on him, loving the feeling of how he filled up your throat with each bop of your head.

On his tongue your clit pulsed with need, and you found yourself moaning around his cock, making Joel's hips buck from the vibrations in your throat. Joel ate your pussy greedily, drinking up every whimper and moan your body produced as he coaxed you closer and closer with just his tongue.

You couldn't stay still, even with Joel's fingers digging harshly into the flesh of your ass, branding you as his. With your head clouded in lust, you didn't realize you started to push back against his tongue, chasing the high of the swipes and zigzags of his tongue through your soaked folds. "Feels so fucking good," you mumbled, lips pressed to the side of his cock while your head was clouded in cotton candy bliss.

Choking yourself on his cock again, you pulled yourself under the blanket of tranquil arousal, your head filled with nothing except the way Joel took care of you, and how good his cock felt in your throat. Your desperate hands found his heavy balls, cupping them gently before you rolled them in your hands, earning you a deep rumbling groan.

"That's it– play with my balls, baby– good girl," he moaned into your pussy.

His praise settled in your tummy like a warm cup of tea on a cold day. The wet breath of him against your throbbing clit was almost too much to take, and now you started to grind against this face, fucking yourself against his tongue as you chased your high that just continued to build, and build, and build. His rough hands on your ass guided your movements, and when your thighs started to tense with arrhythmic shakes, he latched onto your clit and sucked.

"Come on baby… that's it– good girl," he hummed, "Come f'me, princess."

Pulling off his cock with a wet pop, your head came to rest over the thick of his thigh as your body started to shake and wither with your orgasm. You felt him grunt against your cunt, his tongue never ceasing to assault your aching clit. He lapped greedily at you, tasting each drop of your blinding ecstasy. His cock sat heavy in your hand, small wet whimpers puffing against the wet skin of him as you rode out your high.

In your chest, you could feel your heart grow larger, bursting out of your chest for Joel, like it reached its hand out to intertwine it with his.

When the tension in your body let go of you and your grinding hips faltered, you sat up slowly, sliding down his chest on shaking legs as you beared your weight on his thick thighs. His hefty cock laid heavy and throbbing against his stomach, smeared and glistening in your saliva. With a curious tilt of your head, you wrapped your hand around him, his hips bucking as you jerked him slowly.

"Fuck," he spat.

Looking over your shoulder, Joel looked a mess coated in your arousal. The coarse salt and pepper hair of his beard glistened in the dimmed light as he turned his head to the side, pushing it deeper into the pillow while you teasingly skated your fingers down the length of him. His moan vibrated through his chest, and a smile followed a pleased prickling feeling of pride in your chest – pluming yourself at having a man like him at your mercy, your eyes found his cock again.

In your hand you felt him throb; the thick vein down the underside of him protruded with need. His hands found the thick of your thighs, palms spreading over your skin like an afterthought before they settled at your hips. Leaning down, you longed to feel him fill up your throat again – finding you liked this new angle.

Placing a pouty kiss to the head, you licked at the pearling precum. Did it always taste this good, or was there just something so obsessively special about Joel? Humming contently, you hollowed your cheeks around the head, before you dropped your jaw to slowly ease him back down your throat.

Joel's hands on you tightened like he was holding on for dear life, as another pleasurable moan fell from his lips.

"Shit– you love that cock don't cha– love sucking cock like a good whore."

His words had you whimpering around him – he was right after all, you loved sucking his cock. You wished you could see him, see the way his eyes squeezed shut as you took him deeper. A rush of arousal pooled in your tummy at the thought, ready to gush over the greying hair scattered over his chest.

Starting up a bopping rhythm again, an obscene gagging squelch escaped your throat at every bop, filling your bedroom with filth. Joel's mouth wasn't any better, rambling degrading praise that only urged you on. When your hands found his balls, slicked up with your runaway spit, his fingers dug harshly into your ass cheeks.

"Stop, baby… I'm so fuckin' close."

Pulling away, you dropped your head to his thighs, laying down gently with your hand still wrapped around him at the base. Tightening your grip around him, Joel's breath stalled in his chest, and you couldn't help but place a soft kiss down the length of him.

"Baby," he said sternly, and a bubbling laugh escaped your lips.

Loosening your grip, his cock slapped against his skin where the head wept onto the skin below his belly button. His hands on your ass pushed at you, and you slid your body off him, your thighs sticking together wetly as you sat back on your knees beside him.

Sitting up against the headboard, a soft groan fell from his lips. His gaze over you was blown out and wide, and his grin wide with teeth.

"Come here," he ordered, the crook of his arm open for your body to slot into.

His other hand fell at the top of your chest, sliding it up around the back of your neck, holding you. The heavy weight of his touch had you pliant and loose in his hands; your eyelids fluttering with desire. He could do whatever he wanted to you in that moment, and you'd let him, but the only scandalous thing he did was kiss you.

He tasted like you, and you as him, and nothing had felt more right. Somehow, he maneuvered you onto his lap, distracting you with his kiss as he positioned you how he wanted.

His leaking cock pressed into your stomach, and if you hadn't been so distracted the visualization would spark a thought of how deep inside you he'd reach, would graze you. Instead, you licked into his mouth, your desperate hands finding his cheeks where his beard prickled your palms.

"You want that cock inside, don't ya, princess?" he nudged between kisses, slipping a hand between your bodies to angle the tip of his cock to rub through your folds, circling it around your aching hole.

The new stimulation had you pulling away from his mouth with a hitched breath, "Please– been so long."

Pressing your cheek into the crook of his neck, a sticky sheen of desperation clung to your skin as you lifted your hips. He slid the bulbous head through your seam where you dripped over him, coating him in your slick arousal.

"Go ahead, baby, sit on that cock, take what you need," Joel's voice rumbled against your skin.

Lowering your hips, the blunt fat head of his cock pushed past your folds and nudged at your opening. He let you take the lead this time, letting you control the pace at which you worked inch by inch of him deeper inside you. The stretch of him always burned deliciously, an aching pleasure that you didn't think you'd ever get enough of.

When you finally eased yourself down on him, your hips flush with his, a guttural moan fell from Joel's lips. Sitting on his cock like this, he reached deeper than he'd ever done before; a heavy pressure poking at the deepest part of yourself. It was almost too much, your thighs clenched as they fought to move back up.

"There you go," he cooed, "So fuckin' tight f'me."

"Joel," you whined out in a heavy breath, digging you face deeper into the crook of his neck.

"'s alright," he soothed, nosing down the length of your jaw, "'s all yours, use it princess– get yourself off on my cock."

You couldn't help the whimper you stuck to his skin as you felt him flex inside of you, your walls fluttering around him desperately as you rocked your hips into him. The wiry hair at the base of his cock nudged against your throbbing clit, the new angle prodded at the spot inside that made your hips stutter.

Joel let you do all the work as you lifted your hips, slowly at first, and lowered yourself down on him. Looking for more leverage, you forced yourself to sit up straight, your hands digging into his shoulders as you pushed back on him at an increasing pace, using him for your own pleasure.

"Such a good girl, keep goin', just like that," he praised from under you, watching how your eyebrows creased as your eyes shut at the increasing pleasure.

Moving your hips at an unabashed pace, Joel's hands found yours to intertwine with. "Come on, baby, don't stop now, ride that cock, bounce on it like a good slut," he encouraged, pushing back against your hands.

Lost in the fog of your own pleasure, desperate pleas and whiny breaths were the only coherent sounds falling from your lips, the feeling of him filling you up repeatedly, too good for words.

When your thighs burned with effort, you slowed down your bounces and fell against his chest to catch your breath. Swiveling your hips between chasing grinds, the desperation in you still chased your orgasm.

"Gettin' tired, princess?" Joel asked, his voice full of faux pity. His hands untangled from yours to fall at your back, his fingers teasing over the band of your bra. "Need me to do it f'ya, huh?"

Hooking his finger under your bra strap, he pulled, letting it smack harshly and quick against your skin in reprimand. You jolted against him, letting out a whine and a "Yes, please," as the end of him poked at your spot at the movement.

Unhooking your bra, Joel cast it aside, getting lost in the duvet along with the rest of your underwear. Cupping your ass, he squeezed a good handful before a hand came down in a stinging smack!

What happened next was nothing short of instinctive. Keeping you steady in his lap, Joel thrusted up into you, setting a brutal pace. Bouncing in his lap, you felt like a rag doll. Rolling your head back, you met every thrust, felt every vein, and every ridge of him, as the fat head repeatedly hit the spot so deep inside you. When your vision started going spotty with pleasure, and Joel's lips spilled filth between his grunts, you were tethering right on the edge.

"Keep goin'– good girl, earn my fuckin' cum."

"Y'want me to fill y'up don't cha? Have it leakin' outta you all night."

"Come on, princess, I know you're close, give m'cock a big squeeze."

The noises spilling out your throat were breathy and whiny, harmonizing perfectly with the deep guttural grunts out of Joel. When his hand reached between your bodies, the flat callused pad of his thumb putting pressure down on your clit, it was all too much.

With an arch of your back, he tipped you over the edge, the pleasure rolling over you like a blinding wave. Your body went rigid for a moment, your cunt squeezing around him like a vice, before the tension released in a stuttering shake.

"There she goes, my good girl," Joel praised, but his voice was far away, like someone had stuffed cotton in your ears, or pulled your head under water.

Prolonging your release, Joel never stopped his thrusts, only slowing them down as he sped up his fingers on your clit. Your mouth dropped in a quiet scream, your face twisted in pained pleasure as a stream of liquid gushed from your cunt.

You didn't notice the surprised look on his face, or the way he groaned out, "Fuck– you're amazin', princess– 'm comin'." But you felt the way his cock twitched inside you, pulsed thick spurts of his cum as he filled you deep and steady with his hot release.

Caught up in his own pleasure, Joel sunk down the bed, dragging you with him. The feeling of his cum filling you up, branding you as his, had you withering with another gush of release over his thighs. Your skin stuck to his, and with this new angle his cock slipped out of you from the force of your orgasm.

Everything was sticky, everything was hot. Riding out the last buzzes of your ecstasies, you could still feel how intensely your clit throbbed as Joel's heavy release dribbled out of you, making a mess over his wet thighs and softening cock.

You didn't realize you were crying until Joel peeled your cheek from his chest, two large palms cupping your head to thumb at the wet tears.

"'s okay, baby, you're okay," he cooed, wrapping his strong safe arms tightly around you, while you clung to him like a koala bear. "I'm here."

It was only two words, but it was just the two you needed to hear.

Joel was here.

"Thank you," you whispered, afraid your voice would break if you spoke louder.

"You did so good f'me," he cooed, as your heartbeats steadied.

Pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, Joel turned to the side, dragging you with him. Your limbs were coated in your releases, and sweat clung to your skin, but it didn't matter as he pulled you closer. You didn't know how long he held you, how many kisses he pressed against your skin, but you could never get enough.

When he finally pulled away, you whined, your fingers digging into the flesh of his arm.

"Please don't leave," you whimpered, your brain scrambled with vulnerability.

"'m not leavin', pretty girl, but ‘m gettin’ you cleaned up. That sound alright?"

Getting out of bed felt like moving through molasses, but Joel was patient, helping you to the bathroom on your wobbly legs. Finding a washcloth in your cupboard, he dampened it with warm water before he dragged it down your thighs, catching the mix of your combined release where it had started to run down your leg.

"Made a mess didn't we?" he teased with a wink.

Shooting him half of a smile, you only nodded, tiredness pushing at your eyelids. Joel didn't push, only cleaned himself up before he told you to pee while he changed the sheets. When you finally emerged from the bathroom, Joel invited you back in his embrace, curling himself around your body in a safe weight as your eyelids started to droop to the feeling of his soft kisses against your skin.

When you woke, the bed was empty. Looking around the room a coldness ran through you as you started to wonder if last night had all been a dream. But then you heard a low hum of music coming through the open bedroom door, along with the smell of breakfast cooking, and the coldness melted away.

Grabbing your robe off the hook by the door, the music got louder as you padded into your kitchen. Joel stood with his back to you, already dressed as he pushed gently at the eggs frying in the pan. With a look over his shoulder, Joel noticed you and the smile that spread on his face as he took you in in all your morning glory, had a warmth tug at your heart.

"You ain't got no coffee in this house," he told you, turning back to the eggs.

"I usually go down to the coffee shop on the corner," you shrugged, sitting down at the table.

"That ain't real coffee, princess," he clicked his tongue playfully, sliding the eggs carefully onto two plates he'd set aside with two pieces of toast ready.

"Thank you serf," you joked as he placed one of the plates in front of you. It earned you a genuine laugh as Joel sat down opposite you.

"You're welcome, brat," he smiled.

There was something so romantic about the way he said it, all casual and smirking. And when you caught the way his eyes glinted as he looked at you, you found yourself thinking that if this was love, then you thought you could get used to it.

For the first time in your life, you wanted to fall in love.

Again and again.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfic #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #brat!reader #pedro pascal

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vbecker10 · 18 days ago

Text

Stop Worrying

Pairing: Steve Rogers x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: Steve comes home early when he hears you're sick but his efforts to help leave you feeling like your super soldier boyfriend doesn't think you can take care of yourself. After you tell him to stop worrying and leave you alone, you run into Bucky who explains how ill Steve was before the serum and how much anxiety it causes him when the people he cares about get even a little bit sick.

Warnings: Angst (because why the hell not), being sick (it's just a cold), being a moody person when your sick (sometimes you just want to be left alone to feel awful), Steve getting yelled at for just trying to help, mentioning how Steve's mom died and all of his childhood illnesses (which I googled so hopefully they are right, if not oh well I guess)

A/N: Well... this was supposed to be super fluffy and cute but that's not what happened lol. There's a bunch of angst that was not planned but if you know me you should have known I wouldn't write anything straight fluffy, not sure why I tried lol. I hope you all enjoy this! 💚

A coughing fit forces you to sit up on the couch, reaching for a half empty bottle of water while you cover your mouth with your other hand. After finishing the water, you toss it in the small trash can you brought in from the bathroom and lay back down. You shiver and pull the blanket tightly around your body then sigh and pick up the thermometer next to the tissue box. Closing your eyes, you kick the blanket off your warm lower half and wait for it to beep.

I better not have a fever, you think and close your eyes when you feel like it is taking too long to register your temperature. Hopefully this is just a stupid little cold and I'll be fine by the time Steve comes home this weekend. I'm so tired, I'm really just not in the mood for captain perfect to see me all sniffley and gross.

You're eyes open quickly when a sound interrupts your thoughts but it's not the beeping you are waiting for, it's the front door.

"Y/N," Steve's voice fills your shared apartment just as the thermometer finally beeps. He closes the door and takes off his jacket while you try to stifle a cough and read the results. "I heard you were sick, are you okay?"

You nod, unable to answer as you begin to cough. Steve goes to the kitchen and returns with an open bottle of water, handing it to you as you finish coughing. You look up briefly at him and see his expression full of worry.

While you drink, he picks up the thermometer and checks to see the last reading. "No fever, that's good," he says but he sounds overly concerned when he puts it back down. "Did you have one earlier?"

You shake you head and clear your throat. "No, I was just getting the chills a bit so I figured I should check it."

"Oh, that was good thinking," Steve agrees when you sit up on the couch, covering your legs then bending them to give him room. He sits near your feet and rests his hand gently on your knee over the blanket.

"Thanks," you mumble despite feeling like his approval isn't really necessary. It's not my first time feeling like garbage. If you're hot and cold at the same, you take your temperature, it's not really a big deal, you begin to feel annoyed. You know your boyfriend isn't really what's bothering you, you're completely exhausted from not being able to sleep and because you've felt terrible for the last two days. It's nice to have him home but you really didn't need him to see you like this either.

Steve doesn't seem to notice your sour mood though, his hand gently squeezing your knee when you look at him again. "Why are your home? I thought you didn't get back for a few days," you ask, drinking a bit more water while you wait for an answer.

"They're still out in the field but Nat called and told me you were sick," he explains. "Tony and Clint can handle this one without me."

"You didn't need to do that. It's just a cold," you respond, feeling more than a little irritated that your mutual friend was keeping an eye on you for him. She is a spy though so I guess that's what she does, you remind yourself

"Are you sure?" he questions you. "Did you see anyone in the infirmary? I'm sure Dr. Palmer wouldn't mind taking a quick look at you. It could be the flu or an upper respiratory infection or-"

"It's a cold," you interrupt him, letting your annoyance show more than you meant to. "Stop worrying, I'll be fine."

"I always worry about my sweetheart," he says with a warm smile, his hand moving up and down your shin lightly over the blanket.

You feel yourself forcing a smile and you know he can tell when his smile falters and he clears his throat awkwardly. Normally, you love when Steve is sweet and touchy but right now all you want is to be alone until you feel less miserable.

"Did you eat anything today?" Steve ask after a long moment of silence.

"Yeah," you respond then realize he's waiting for you to prove it. You try not to sigh out loud but you're starting to feel as if he's treating you like one of his new recruits, double checking everything you say or do. "I had a little dry cereal this morning and some soup like an hour ago."

"That's not very much," he sounds disappointed in your answer.

"I haven't really been hungry," you shrug, not making eye contact with him as you reach for a tissue to sneeze into.

"Bless you," he says as you quickly turn so your perfect boyfriend doesn't have to watch you blow your nose. "I could make you something," his hand gently rubs your knee again.

You toss the tissue, "I'll make more soup later."

"No, I think I'm gonna rest for a bit," you look up at him, thankful when he gets up from the couch so you can stretch your legs out again.

"Okay, just make sure you don't forget to eat. You need to keep your strength up to fight whatever you have," his words sound almost like an order and you nod then avoid looking at him by fixing the blanket. "Do you need anything? More water or a new box of tissues?"

"Okay sweetheart," you can feel his eyes moving over your body as you pull the blanket up higher. "How about some tea? It would be good for your cough. I can put honey in it if your throat is bothering you," he suggests when you begin to cough.

You shake your head although you have to admit that might be a good idea. You just can't help feeling annoyed by the way Steve is constantly making suggestions and questioning your decisions. He's always been a fixer and a leader in the field during missions but right now all you want to curl up in a ball and be left alone.

"You sure? That cough sounds pretty bad," Steve says as he begins to clean up the few tissues on the floor that must have missed the garbage can.

"Just leave them, I can clean up later," you tell him, embarrassed as you watch a super soldier handle your snotty trash.

"I don't mind helping Y/N," he says with a caring smile.

"I don't need help," you snap without thinking. "I can take care of myself Steve. I'm not a little kid or one of your new soldiers that you have to lead around because they're useless."

"I didn't say that," he sounds confused by your reaction which only annoys you further.

"You're acting like it though," you tell him.

"I'm sorry, I-" he begins to apologize but you interrupt him.

"Can you just leave? I really want to rest," you lay down and fix the blanket, getting frustrated when it tangles around your foot.

He gently tugs the end of the blanket free from your foot and you sigh. "Maybe you should sleep in the bed," Steve says and you glare up at him. He visibly regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth and he tries to take them back. "I just mean-"

"Stop worrying and just leave me alone Steve," you roll over, facing the back of the couch and folding your arms over your chest. Closing your eyes tightly, you breath deeply to try and avoid a coughing fit when you hear the door open and close.

"Do you know why Steve slept on my couch last night?" he asks.

You walk into the common kitchen, still exhausted from another mostly sleepless night and go straight to the fridge. You cover your cough as you grab a bottle of water then pause when someone knocks on the open fridge door. You close it partially and see Bucky looking at you curiously.

"Oh," you mumble and close the fridge door. "I yelled at him."

"Did he do something stupid?" Steve's friend assumes.

"Not really I guess," you shrug but Bucky's expression makes it clear he's looking for the full story. "I don't know... He's so overbearing sometimes. I know he means well but he left a mission early cause Nat told him I'm sick. I'm not a child or something, I can take care of myself. I've been doing it my whole life."

Bucky rubs the back of his neck with his metal hand then says, "I think you should talk to him."

"Bucky I'm not apologizing cause I don't want to be babied," you tell him, sniffling while you pull out a cough drop from your pocket.

"That's not what I mean," he says and before you can respond he asks, "What do you know about Steve from before they gave him the serum?"

"Not much honestly," you admit after thinking for a moment. "I know he was short and kinda skinny but that's pretty much it."

He takes a seat at the island and you copy him, feeling like this is going to be a longer conversation than you originally thought. You crack open your bottle of water and wait for him to start talking.

"Before he was a super soldier, Steve was a really sick kid," Bucky says. "Poor guy was anemic, had diabetes, a heart murmur, scoliosis, asthma and partial hearing loss from scarlet fever when he was really young."

"Wow," you say quietly in disbelief.

"Yeah... he also had a terrible immune system. If anyone had a sore throat or the flu or literally anything contagious, you could count on Steve getting it. I had to take care of him a lot back then, he was sometimes too weak to get out of bed by himself," you bite your lip as Bucky talks, trying to imagine the super soldier you know needing that much help. "When his mom died, everything got worse," he looks down at his hands while he talks.

"How did she die?" you ask as you quickly realize you've never asked Steve anything about his life before he was the famous Captain America.

"She worked as a nurse in a tuberculosis ward and unfortunately she caught it from her patients. She passed right before Steve's 18th birthday," Bucky looks up at you.

"I had no idea, that's awful," you say, wishing you had gotten to meet her or at least heard other stories about him mom.

"Yeah," Bucky agrees with a slight nod. "Steve was always a bit of a... we'll call him a worrier when we were growing up but he sort of spiraled after watching his mom get sicker and sicker. Now I can see it was anxiety and some sort of panic disorder but those weren't things people really understood or talked much about back then."

You fidget with the water bottle, peeling the label off while you listen to Bucky quietly.

"I tried my best to help him but a few years after Sarah, his mom, died I got the flu pretty bad and he was a wreck," Bucky continues. "He wouldn't leave my side for a minute, even after the doctor told him I'd be okay. Steve did everything he could think of. Brought me food and water, tracked my medicine and read to me when I was too tired to hold the book up myself. It took me a few weeks to get back to normal but it took him way longer to let go of trying to take care of me."

"I'm not saying Steve isn't a lot, cause we both know he can be," he chuckles lightly and you smile a little, "but maybe cut him a little slack? I know how much he cares about you and I think you getting even a little sick brings back those feelings from when we were younger."

You're quiet for a moment, digesting everything Steve's oldest friend told you then you shake your head. "I can't believe I didn't know any of this," you frown and wonder how well you really know the man you're living with.

"Go talk to him," he says encouragingly. "He's probably still in my apartment if he didn't head down to the gym yet."

"I will, thanks," you get off the stool, grab your water and head to Bucky's.

Steve sits on the couch, tying his shoes without looking up when you open the door. "Sorry Buck, I'll be out of your hair in a minute." He stands and finally sees you waiting quietly by the door. "Y/N?"

"Can we talk?" you ask him, fidgeting with the water bottle in your hands.

"Yeah," he sits back down on the couch and you sit next to him, placing the bottle on the coffee table.

"I talked to Bucky," you start, "He told me you were here."

"I wasn't sure where else to go," he shrugs.

"I shouldn't have told you to leave, I'm really sorry Steve," you tell him and he reaches for your hand squeezing it gently. You sniffle and he hands you a tissue which makes you crack small smile. "Thanks."

"I just wanted to take care of you," Steve says when you turn away from him to blow your nose. "I wasn't trying to upset you."

You nod and look back at him, "I know... and that's really sweet of you but I'm not used to anyone helping me like this. I've always done things on my own and the way you just came in and started asking me all kinds of questions and suggesting things really made me feel like you didn't trust me to take care of myself."

"That's not how I wanted you to feel at all," he says. "I was worried about you but that doesn't mean I think you're incapable of getting better on your own. I just don't think you should have to do it all by yourself, I want to be here for you."

"Maybe we can split the difference a little," you suggest and he furrows his brow a bit in confusion. "Instead of throwing a ton of things you think I should do at me all at once, just suggest one thing and if I say no, listen to me."

"I can do that," he smiles as he relaxes for the first time since he heard you were sick. He leans over and kisses your cheek.

"Thank you," you rest your head on his shoulder, covering your mouth when you yawn.

"Should we go back to our place so you can rest?" he suggests almost nervously.

A smile spreads across Steve's face, "I'd really like that. It's been a long time since I've talked to anyone other than Bucky about her."

"Yes please," you get up, holding his hand tightly. "And maybe later, you can tell me some stories about your mom. Bucky told me a little bit about her and I'd like to know more, if that's okay?"

"I guess I never asked you anything about your life before I knew you," you say when he opens the door to the hall for you. "I had no idea you had such bad health or why you got so anxious when you heard I was sick."

"How long did you two talk for?" he asks in a half joking manner.

"A while," you answer with a shrug and a smile as you walk together towards your apartment.

He chuckles, "I'll tell you all about how scrawny and weak I used to be as soon as you're all better. I don't want to make you laugh too much while you still have that cough." He moves his arm around your waist to keep you close.

"I really just can't imagine you being short," you giggle.

"That was the least of my problems back then," he assures you

Steve opens the door to your apartment, his arm gently holding you around the waist as you cough hard. When you catch your breath he asks, "Do you need anything or do you want me to head out for a bit so you can go back to sleep?"

You look up at him, knowing exactly what will make you feel better, "Can I have some soup please? And cuddles."

He smiles and kisses the top of your head lightly, "I can absolutely help with both of those. Go get comfy, I'll be there in a few minutes sweetheart."

"Thanks handsome," you sniffle and walk towards your room, pausing when you get to the doorway to turn and look back at him. "I love you."

"I love you too, now go rest," Steve says from the kitchen. "I'll be right in to take care of you."

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💙💙 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

(I wasn't really sure who to tag for this cause I don't really have a Steve list)

@soubi001 @mochie85 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @multyunervisesuperfan @cabingrlandrandomcrap @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @jiyascepter @eleniblue @muddyorbsblr @alyeskathewave @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @km-ffluv @biodegradable-glitter-fest @wolfsmom1 @hopefuldreamers-world @anukulee @trojanaurora @babygirl-panda19 @catsladen @stargazer-luna @gruftiela @bolontiku @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @crimson25 @lokiandbuckysdoll @holdmytesseract @wolfsmom1 @peaches1958 @michellewgrt @jaidenhawke @mochie85 @itscomplicatedx @motherofmischief @lethallyprotected @biaswreckedbybuckybarnes

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dismalflo · 2 months ago

Note

hi, Uhm… so, I love your blog (like, reading your drabbles to sleep love) and I’d really like to request a poly!wolfstar x fem!reader where they are in an established relationship already, and the guys come back from a party or smth, and find reader dancing to the beat of Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A man after midnight) by ABBA, (and they’re coming home late from said party) and so they tease reader about it but in the end they start dancing along with her? Thank youuu 💚💚💚

hi darling, tysm for requesting and for your kind words <3 i hope you enjoy!!

poly!wolfstar x reader who dances the night away ✩ 1k words

cw: fluff

What the boys expect to find is you in bed, waiting for them. Probably dozing–half-awake, ready to insist you’re not even that tired–only to fall asleep two minutes into Sirius’ dramatic retelling of their night out. He and Remus would share one of those sly, wordless smiles over the top of your head, as if managing to lull you to sleep were some grand feat. They’d follow you into dreams not long after, limbs tangled and content.

But what they expect isn’t what they come home to.

Remus is the first through the door, Sirius close behind, still fumbling with the handle as it swings shut. Normally, the loud click would make Remus wince, but tonight, he barely notices. There's a sound drifting faintly from the kitchen; a low, familiar thrum.

ABBA.

The unmistakable glittery beat of Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! carries faintly through the flat.

Sirius lets out a noise that might be a laugh, might be a groan—shifting his weight from foot to foot. “If I don’t get these shoes off in the next five seconds, I’ll have to saw my feet off. I swear they’ve shrunk since we left.”

Remus chuckles, his hand finding Sirius’s elbow to steer him toward the sofa. “Alright, c’mon.”

Sirius drops onto the cushions with a contented sigh, already slumping sideways. Remus crouches to untie his laces, deft fingers at the ready, only to be swatted away.

“I think you should check what Y/N is up to,” Sirius says with a wink. “I can handle my own laces just this once, handsome.”

Remus rolls his eyes but stands, throwing Sirius a fond look over his shoulder as he pads toward the kitchen. The music grows louder with every step, bouncing lightly off the walls. He stops just short of the doorway.

You're dancing.

Well–half-dancing, half-preparing some kind of midnight snack at the counter. There’s a butter knife in one hand, a piece of cheese in the other, and your hips are swaying. Bare feet shuffle against cool tile, and though your voice is too soft to carry over the music, you’re humming along.

He leans against the doorway, arms crossed, head tilted, a stupid smile blooming across his face.

Remus lingers for a moment, content just to watch. There’s something magnetic about the way you move–unbothered, joyful, utterly at ease in the quiet sanctuary of your shared home. Your shirt hangs loose off one shoulder, one of Sirius’s band tees he’s definitely going to pretend to be mad about you stealing later. The kitchen is softly lit, golden and warm.

You spin around mid-chorus, your mouth opening to belt out the next line.

“Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight–”

And then you spot him.

You freeze mid-twirl, eyes wide.

He just raises an eyebrow, lips twitching. “Don’t stop on my account.”

Your mouth opens, flustered. “You–you weren’t supposed to be home yet!”

“We left a bit early.” His smile is soft, fond, not at all mocking. “Got tired.”

Sirius’s voice calls faintly from the living room, laced with the laziness of someone who’s already kicked their feet up. “Are you both coming in here?”

Remus doesn’t reply. He crosses the room to you, every step quiet. You set the cheese down, suddenly shy.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you murmur. “Thought I’d wait up. Got hungry. And then it was too quiet…”

Remus’s eyes soften as he crosses the space between you. Without hesitation, he brushes a loose strand of hair from your face, his fingertips grazing your cheek gently.

“You didn’t have to wait up, you know.”

“I know,” you say. “But I missed you both.”

Remus smiles, warm and worn-in, and then he’s folding you into his arms, your body tucking instinctively into his. He sways with you, just slightly, despite the poppy beat still looping through the kitchen. His chin rests against the top of your head like it belongs there.

Then; footsteps.

The kitchen door swings wider, and Sirius appears in the doorway. His shirt is wrinkled, half-untucked, collar unbuttoned. That mischievous gleam in his eyes is unmistakable.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls, arms opening dramatically. “What do we have here?”

You look up at him, warmth creeping up your neck. “I was just… waiting.”

Sirius’s eyes flick between you and Remus, the corners of his mouth pulling into a grin. “Looks like I missed the opening act of your kitchen concert,” he says. “Very rude.”

Remus laughs softly, squeezing your waist. “He’s just upset he missed the food.”

“And the dance,” Sirius adds, stepping in close. His hands find your waist before you can react, and with a gleeful spin, he twirls you away from Remus and across the kitchen.

You stumble into laughter, clutching at Sirius as he steadies you. His grip is sure, warm, familiar.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously charming,” he says with a wink.

“Gross,” you tease, wrinkling your nose.

Remus rejoins you both with a soft chuckle, his hand sliding around your waist from behind. Sirius presses closer from the front, and the three of you sway together now, the remnants of ABBA giving way to something softer.

No one moves to stop the music.

For a moment, words feel unnecessary. There's only the slow rhythm of shared breaths, the warmth of bodies pressed together, and the kind of peace that settles deep in the bones.

Remus kisses your temple.

Sirius squeezes your hand.

The night stretches around you, golden and easy. There’s nothing more to say.

masterlist <3

#flo'sfics #marauders au #marauders fics #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #poly!wolfstar x reader #poly!wolfstar x y/n #poly!wolfstar x you #poly!wolfstar #poly!wolfstar fluff #poly!wolfstar drabble #poly!wolfstar fic #poly!wolfstar imagine #wolfstar x reader #wolfstar x you #wolfstar x y/n

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idkdudethisisntpermanent · 7 months ago

Text

Over the Limit - pt.v

jenna ortega x female reader

summary: An unlikely group forms—did someone say road trip?

word count: 10.8k

a/n: It's officially been a month since I've started posting Over the Limit on Tumblr! Thank you everyone for the overwhelming amount of support💚

————

How are weekends meant to look for the average 20-year old? Finally sleeping in after having a week of 8am classes? Scrambling to your job that funds all your stupid vices? Maybe it was stressing over picking the sluttiest outfit you can wear since you had a frat party and needed all eyes on you?

That realm of life seemed impossible for you. When you’re from Brimstone you don’t have the privilege of worrying about those things—no, instead on this fine Saturday morning you’re groggily rubbing your eyes open at 6am, while Hunter is panicking about the land lord who’s five seconds away from knocking the door down.

“Dude just answer,” you say annoyed, you could barely sleep last night and the last thing you needed was this antsy land lord playing drums on the door.

“I fucking can’t!” Hunter whisper yells, crouching down to your position on the floor where you had slept the night prior. “He’s gonna hand me an eviction notice when he sees me!”

And that is how your weekend begins when you’re from Brimstone.

After ignoring the loud knocks for some time, the land lord left grumbling angry curses at Hunter.

“So you’re backed up on two months of rent?” you ask, learning the information from the man that was once outside the door.

The older guy sighs with a nod, “Yeah, you know how it is. I haven’t been getting much races lately. I should’ve put a wager on you when you raced that Blond douche,” he says with a hollow chuckle.

You frown. You know exactly how it is. It’s not rare for you to walk into the garage and hear the whispers of unhappy Sinners about their pay cut.

Race clubs had their own economy. The quickest way for racers to make money was by paying an entry fee to compete, with the total pool going to the winning racer or crew. Crews like the Sinners also occasionally hosted parties, collecting entry fees to boost their earnings.

But gambling was the bread and butter—side bets, wagers, and deals made on the outcome of races. Anyone could place a bet, whether it was on their own crew or against them, but most of the money came from outsiders: third-party crews or devoted townspeople.

And then there was the fastest, most dangerous way to make cash.

“Didn’t you have a sponsor?” you asked.

Hunter's jaw tightened, and a shadow of bitterness crossed his face. "Yeah, I did. But things went south," he muttered. "Sponsors aren't what they used to be. They're too caught up in politics, or they want a cut so big it's not worth the payout."

You nodded, understanding that finding and keeping a sponsor was a double-edged sword. While they offered financial stability and access to better equipment, they came with strings attached—controlling interests, unwanted appearances, and expectations that sometimes choked a racer's freedom. You had to be in at least the top 5% of racer's to even be considered by a sponsor, and Hunter was just that good. But that lifestyle was clearly not worth it for him. You don't blame him, you've heard the stories of sponsor's having crazy asks for their prodigies.

"You'd be a sponsor's dream you know?" he suddenly says.

You quirk a brow up, not knowing how so.

"You're a great racer, you get along well with the rich, you're submissive—

"I am not submissive!"

————

After some more banter with Hunter you finally proceed with your morning and freshen up. As you're standing in front of the bathroom sink, wondering how you're going to brush your teeth, you noticed two toothbrushes in the holder.

Hunter lived alone.

Not knowing the origins of the second toothbrush and not willing to risk it, you opted to brush your teeth using your finger, and splashed some cool water on your face, trying to chase away the exhaustion and pull yourself together.

As you stared at your reflection in the mirror, a chill slid down your spine. Shock had a strange way of altering a person’s expression—jaw locked, eyes hardened, gaze steely. The revelations of last night were etched into your face like battle scars.

You were scared. Everything you heard last night was real—things that will directly impact you and your loved ones. It wasn’t just some joke, it was real life. And about your father...ever since the revelations of last night, it's been weighing on you—if you should tell your mom about the foul play in her husband’s death. How do you even tell someone that?

Your hands tightened around the edge of the sink, water dripping off your face and pooling on the counter. You thought about how it didn't shock you more to learn that your father’s death was no accident. Did that make you a terrible daughter? You thought of Anton, always armed, always prepared for whatever might come his way. Of course this life was brutal. Your father had been a founder, a leader—how could it not be dangerous?

But who wanted your father dead?

That was rather the question that gnawed at you, digging deeper with every passing second. Who could have wanted him gone, and why? Your fingers clenched the porcelain sink harder, the tremor in your hands matched by the anger coursing through you. And then the tears came undone, streaking down your face and mingling with the water already on the counter.

“Y/n?” Hunter’s voice cut through the fog of your mind, followed by a knock on the bathroom door. “Hey, you okay in there?”

You sucked in a shaky breath, fighting to steady yourself. Now was not the time nor place for breaking down.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you called out, forcing your voice into something resembling normalcy. You wiped your face with the back of your hand and swung the door open. Hunter stood there, a towel draped over his arm, eyes shadowed with worry.

He frowned as you brushed past him, taking the towel and pressing it to your damp face. The silence hung between you.

Hunter’s gaze followed you as you moved, his eyes full of questions. “Y/n, look” he started his voice soft, hesitant, as if he was afraid that speaking too loudly would shatter you. "I don't know what's going on with you. But I know it's a lot. I already know that Jenna is a Viper and now this Ghost Smoke shit. You can talk to me about whatever you're dealing with if you want."

You paused, towel clenched in your fists, staring blankly at the wall. The weight of everything threatened to crush you, but you felt the warmth of Hunter’s hand as he reached out, resting it on your shoulder. That simple touch was enough to crack the fragile shield you’d tried so hard to maintain.

Tears welled up again, this time falling freely. Before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out, each one tugging at the raw wound inside you. “Hunter, I don't know what to do.”

He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a firm embrace. The warmth and steadiness of him anchored you as you broke down, sobs shaking your frame.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, his hand gently rubbing your back. “We’ll figure this out, I promise. You’re not alone.”

The floodgates opened, and you told him everything—how you met Jenna, her request to find dirt on Percy, your dad supposedly wanting out of the Sinners, and the revelation that Bullet and Apex weren’t just names, but legacies tied to betrayal and death. Hunter listened in silence, holding you tight, his own expression darkening with every word.

In that moment, the fear and uncertainty didn’t vanish, but they felt a little more bearable. You had someone who knew, someone who would stand by you.

————

You and Hunter sat side by side on his worn couch, the late morning sun casting a soft light through the window. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable now; it was a shared reprieve after an outpouring of truths.

Hunter leaned back, one arm resting along the back of the couch, the other in the bag of chips he pulled out for you two. Your breakfast. He let out a breath, shaking his head slowly. “So, Jenna came to you with this whole thing about Percy and the Ghost Smoke operation, and you just… jumped in? Talk about submissive.”

You punch his shoulder lightly, and managed a small smile, the relief of finally sharing the truth giving your chest room to breathe. “I didn’t think it would spiral like this,” you admitted. “It was supposed to be simple—find out what Percy was up to, help Jenna. But now, with what we know...”

Hunter’s eyes darkened as he nodded. “It’s more than just racing politics. It’s deeper, more dangerous.” He glanced at you, concern still etched into his features. “And you’re sure Anton has no idea you’re involved?”

The question hung heavy between you, but you felt more grounded now. You nodded. “For now, he doesn’t. But I don’t know how long that will last.”

A sudden thought crossed your mind, and you straightened. “Do you think Mikey knows Jenna is with the Vipers?”

Hunter shrugged, "She give you any reason to think that?"

"She was just... observant man. The other day—when we went on the drive. She remembered the Aston from the footage she saw of me and Jenna. Said something about how it was the car I rolled in with 'my girl' in."

Hunter’s smirk returned, and he nudged you again, playfulness edging out the tension. “Maybe she’s paying close attention because she’s totally into you.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile lingered. “I’m being serious, Hunter.”

“Alright, alright,” Hunter said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But on that note... we need to talk about the Aston.”

You frowned, a hint of confusion crossing your face. “What about it?”

Hunter leaned forward, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by seriousness. “Think about it. We crashed that meeting last night and got caught snooping around. The only lead they have on us is the car. They know we escaped in the AM. If they’re looking for anything, it’ll be that.”

Fuck he was right.

"I say we demolish it. Scrap it for parts or something."

"—no!" you exclaim interrupting his thought. "I'll find a place to have it stashed. Don't worry."

The older guy squinted his eyes in confusion. You were a mechanic, you never got attached to your cars. You knew better than anyone that cars come and go. Yet you couldn't let go of this one.

————

Being a mechanic had its perks, and one of the best was the network of wealthy clientele you’d built over the years. If someone had enough money to buy a custom-built, fully modded car from you, chances were they also had plenty of land—land that could discreetly store a car like yours. Now, you just had to hope their generosity matched the size of their bank accounts.

You stepped out onto the balcony as you scroll through your phone, siffling through your contacts.

"Hmm, maybe John might help me out," you mummer to yourself pressing call.

John was one of your more calm clients. He was the proud new owner of a 1969 Ford Mustang Mach 1. You’d delivered the car just over a month ago—the same night Anton nearly gave you a heart attack by pulling a mock robbery, complete with a gun pointed at you. You shook the memory from your mind, focusing instead on the call as it began to ring.

You first engaged with some small talk before you asked him for help. For all you knew he was a sponsor involved in some shady shit, maybe even involved in Ghost Smoke. Is this what paranoia is?

"I hope there's no complaints about the Mustang," you laugh lightly.

"No complaints Y/n."

"Amazing...so I actually need a favour," you said, leaning on the balcony railing. “I’ve got a car I need to tuck away for a while. Somewhere discreet. Think you could help?”

There was a brief pause, then a hum of consideration. “Hmm, yeah, I’ve got a lake house not too far from here. You can stash it there. No one will bother it.”

“Appreciate it. I’ll swing by later today.”

“Anytime kid,” he said before the call ended.

You exhaled, relief washing over you. One less problem to worry about—for now.

————

After letting Hunter know you’d secured a spot for the car, you set out for the address John had texted. The drive felt almost reflective, the Aston Martin humming beneath you like it understood the significance of this moment. Arriving at the secluded lake house, you carefully parked the car— the car that had genuinely started it all for you.

The Uber ride back to Hunter's was quiet, except for occasional small talk with the driver and faint chatter of the radio. You leaned your head against the window, letting the scenery blur as you reflected on everything that had unfolded.

Your phone buzzed, snapping you out of your thoughts. Hunter’s name flashed on the screen. You swiped to answer.

"Hey," you greeted.

"Hey, where are you?" Hunter's voice was calm but direct.

"In an Uber. On my way back to yours."

"Cool, change of plans. Head to Brenda’s Diner instead."

You frowned, the name clicking in your memory. "Brenda’s? That’s in the next city, like forty minutes away. Why there?"

"Just meet me. We’ll grab breakfast, Hunter said nonchalantly. "I’m almost there already,"

Your confusion deepened, your brows furrowing. "Why are you suddenly all the way out there? And why can’t we eat closer to your place?"

He sighed, "Jenna texted me, okay? She asked me to come here, so I’m here. So just come.”

You blinked, caught off guard. "Wait, what? Jenna texted you? Why does she even have your number?"

Hunter chuckled lightly, clearly amused by your confusion. "Relax, Y/n. Just come here. Who knows, maybe she’ll butter your biscuits or drizzle your pancakes."

"Excuse me—what?" you sputtered, but before you could say more, he hung up, leaving you staring at your phone in disbelief.

You slumped back in the seat, your mind racing. What in the actual hell is going on?

————

“Thank you sir," you say as you get out the Uber. You squint your eyes as you take in the red and yellow sign that said that read Brenda’s. Even the sun shined brighter in this town, from what you knew the town you were currently in—Countsville, wasn’t tainted with race crews and class differences. It was an average suburban town.

You couldn’t help but wonder why Jenna had called you here of all places. Did she have some secret life here? A hidden family? The absurd thought made you chuckle under your breath as you shook your head.

Pulling out your phone, you caught your reflection in the camera and quickly fixed your hair. A pang of nervousness hit you out of nowhere, making you hesitate. Why were you even nervous? Shaking off the feeling, you squared your shoulders and stepped inside.

“Ah, there she is! Y/n!” Hunter’s voice boomed, his arm shooting into the air to wave you over like you were lost in a crowd.

Your eyes darted to him, already settled comfortably in a booth, and then to the two women seated across from him—Jenna and the girl from last night. The one whose name you still didn’t know.

Your steps slowed as their hushed conversation came to an abrupt halt. Without a word, you slid into the booth next to Hunter.

Hunter leaned back in the booth, a smirk playing on his lips. “Took you long enough. Thought maybe you needed a treasure map to find this place.”

“Ha ha,” you deadpanned. Your gaze darted to Jenna, sitting across from you with her arms crossed and her focus firmly planted on the coffee in front of her. She didn’t even glance up when you sat down.

The girl sitting next to her, however—was the complete opposite. She was all smiles, her gaze bouncing between you and Jenna like she was waiting for something to happen between you both.

“Uh, hey. I don’t think we’ve been introduced?” you said, leaning forward slightly.

“I’m Aliyah,” she replied, her grin widening as she reached across the table, hand outstretched.

You took it, chuckling softly. “Nice to meet you.”

Aliyah’s smile turned teasing. “I’m Jenna’s sister.”

“Sister?!” Your jaw dropped as you let go of her hand, the word practically punching its way out of your mouth. Was she a Viper too? Did you get caught up in a family of snakes?

“Well it's nice to meet you,” you muttered, your attention flickering to Jenna. “So, uh, what’s this all about?” You doubt she invited you here to introduce you to her family.

Nothing. Not a word. Jenna’s silence was loud, deafening even, as she swirled her spoon in her coffee like you weren’t even there.

Hunter glanced between the two of you, clearly picking up on the tension. “Oh, this is fun. Should I just grab some popcorn, or…?”

You shot him a glare. “Not helping.”

“Not trying,” he quipped, leaning back with a lazy grin. “Anyway, why don’t you ask Jenna why we’re here? She’s the mastermind behind this little breakfast summit.”

You turned back to her, trying again. “Jenna?”

Still nothing.

“Seriously?” you asked, the irritation creeping into your voice. “You’re just going to ignore me?”

Jenna finally looked up, her expression cool and indifferent. “Oh, I’m sorry. Were you talking to me? Hard to tell when you’ve been acting like I don’t exist for the past few days.”

Hunter snorted, barely holding back a laugh. “She got you there.”

You sighed, sinking back into your seat. This wasn’t what you had anticipated. Sure, you figured she’d be upset about you ghosting her, but you thought you’d moved past that. Last night at the meeting, it felt like you’d reached some kind of unspoken understanding. Yet here she was now, stone-faced and silent, her cold shoulder speaking louder than words.

“Anyways, can we get some actual food in here before someone combusts?”

Aliyah snickered, clearly amused by the dynamic. “Sure, Hunter. Anything to save the day.” She turned her attention to you. “You have to try these pancakes, Brenda’s makes the best pancakes in town!"

Jenna muttered under her breath, just loud enough for you to catch. “Probably too busy to eat pancakes these days.”

Your jaw clenched, but you forced yourself to stay calm. This wasn’t the time or place to start something. Instead, you turned to Aliyah, doing your best to ignore Jenna’s jab. “Yeah, pancakes sound good. Let’s do it.”

Hunter raised his hand to flag down a server. “Pancakes for the table, and maybe a side of good vibes, yeah?”

————

For the past 20 minutes, the table had been quietly enjoying their pancakes, the clinking of cutlery filling the gaps in conversation. You caught Hunter sneaking a glance at your plate, his eyes drifting to the fluffy stack of pastries and then to the glass jar of maple syrup conveniently sitting right next to Jenna. With a sly grin, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, clearly not letting his earlier joke die.

Aliyah finally broke the silence, her voice cutting through the calm. "Alright, since Jenna's committed to this whole silent act, I guess I’ll get us started. Last night was absolutely insane, and I think we seriously need to talk about everything we learned."

You frowned, glancing between the two girls across from you. “Wait, we? What do you mean, we?”

Aliyah looked at you like you’d asked a ridiculous question. “I mean we, as in all of us sitting here. Jenna, Hunter, me—you. We’re in this now.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your brow furrowing deeper. “But… Jenna got her dirt on Percy, didn’t she? That’s what all this was supposed to be about. What more does she have to do with any of this?”

The words came out sharper than you intended, and for the first time since you’d arrived, Jenna’s eyes snapped up to meet yours. Her expression was calm but laced with a distinct edge—and some hurt?

“Are you serious?” she said, setting her coffee cup down with a soft clink. “You think I can just walk away now?”

“Why not?” you shot back. “You wanted proof of what Percy was doing, and you got it. That’s what you asked me to help you with. This whole Ghost Smoke thing—it’s not your problem.”

Jenna’s jaw tightened, and her lips pressed into a thin line. For a moment, it looked like she was biting back a retort. Aliyah, however, was quick to jump in.

“It’s everyone’s problem,” she said firmly, her voice cutting through the tension. “Ghost Smoke isn’t just some petty racing drama, Y/n. It’s destroying lives, and if the Vipers start pushing it harder, it’s going to get worse. Way worse.”

Hunter nodded, his usual laid-back demeanor replaced by something more serious. “Aliyah’s right. Last night wasn’t just some casual run-in with Percy’s people. That dealer wasn’t joking around, and you saw how he talked about the ‘boss.’ They’re planning something big.”

You leaned back in your seat, the weight of their words sinking in. But still, a part of you couldn’t shake the nagging thought that none of this should fall on Jenna—or you, for that matter.

"I don't want you two getting involved," you said, your tone flat and detached, though the tightness in your chest betrayed the storm underneath. You stared at your plate, pushing a piece of pancake around with your fork, avoiding their eyes.

Jenna scoffed, the sound sharp and cutting. “Are you serious right now? You don’t want us involved? After everything last night?”

Your gaze remained fixed downward, even as her frustration bristled against you. “It’s not your fight,” you muttered.

“Not my—?” Jenna’s voice rose, and you finally looked up to see her glaring at you, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “You don’t get to make that call! You think you can just decide when you want me around and when you don't? Newsflash—you’re already in deep, and so are we. There’s no undoing it now.”

You stayed silent, your jaw clenching as you tried to tamp down the surge of emotions threatening to surface. She wasn’t wrong, but she didn’t understand. Couldn’t understand.

You couldn’t drag them further into a world where people are pushing drugs—where people are capable of taking lives, just like they had taken your father’s and uncle's.

“It doesn’t matter why,” you said finally, your voice still low. “I just… I don’t want you involved. Either of you. That’s all.”

Jenna let out an incredulous laugh, throwing her hands in the air. “Unbelievable," she muttered, pushing back her chair abruptly and standing up, her frustration was palpable as she strode toward the diner’s exit.

You watched her leave, a pang of guilt twisting in your stomach. Hunter sighed beside you, leaning back in his seat.

“She’s not wrong, you know,” he said quietly. “You can’t do this alone. They were there last night. As much as you don't it to be true, they're now part of it.”

You didn’t respond, the weight of your own thoughts pressing down too heavily. Even though your intentions were to protect them, you couldn’t help but feel like you were only making things worse.

————

"If you grip the wheel any harder, it’s going to fuse with your hands," Aliyah quipped, casting a cautious glance at her sister.

Jenna shot her a sharp side-eye but said nothing, her focus fixed on the road ahead as they made their way home.

When it became clear that Jenna wasn’t going to return to the table, Aliyah had reluctantly followed her, leaving behind the unfinished business that had brought them all together in the first place.

“I don’t get it,” Aliyah said, breaking the silence. “I thought you two were fine last night. What’s with the sudden mood swing?”

Jenna’s grip on the wheel tightened even further, her knuckles white against the leather. She thought she had been fine too. Last night, things had felt different—maybe not perfect, but at least... manageable. But seeing you again today had stirred something raw and unexpected inside her.

It's not your problem, you said.

“I don’t know,” she muttered, her voice strained, as though admitting it hurt.

"Well I don't think your girl—sorry Y/n had any bad intentions. And if you really want to get involved in this Brimstone drama, then you have to make up with her eventually" Aliyah said, her tone gentler now.

Jenna let out a slow breath through her nose, her eyes never leaving the road. “It’s not that simple,” she murmured. “She ghosted me, Aliyah. And now she’s acting like she has to carry everything on her own, like I can’t handle myself. She wanted me around at first and now she decides I'm out? Oh I'm sorry I wasn't aware I was some fucking doll.”

“Or,” Aliyah countered, “maybe she’s terrified of something way bigger than you realize and doesn’t want to drag you—us into it.”

That struck a nerve. Jenna’s fingers twitched against the steering wheel as she mulled over her sister’s words. Was it fear? Was that why you were pushing her away? Her frustration softened slightly, but the knot in her chest didn’t loosen.

“Even if that’s true, she’s going about it the wrong way,” Jenna said after a moment. “I can’t help if she keeps shutting me out.”

Aliyah smirked faintly, crossing her arms. “So tell her that. You’re not the type to sit around and wait for someone else to fix things, right? Go confront her, like the fiery little Viper you are.”

Jenna rolled her eyes at her sister’s teasing, but the words stayed with her. Maybe Aliyah was right—waiting wasn’t getting her anywhere, and the Brimstone situation wasn’t something she could handle without you. As much as she hated to admit it, you were already too entangled with one another for her to pretend otherwise.

She exhaled sharply, determination taking root. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll figure it out. But if she tries to pull some shit on me again, I won't hold back."

Aliyah grinned. “Now that’s the Jenna I know.”

Aliyah sighed in relief, glad her words had managed to ease her sister’s frustration. She could have kept up the teasing, sure, but she knew better. Deep down, she understood the root of Jenna’s anger—it wasn’t just about the danger or the argument at breakfast.

You weren’t wrong, after all. As far as Aliyah knew, the terms of whatever arrangement you and Jenna had were clear: you’d help her get what she needed, and once she had it, that was that. Simple, transactional, with no strings attached. But that simplicity seemed to be the very thing eating at Jenna now.

It wasn’t just frustration; it was hurt. Hurt because Jenna realized you seemed okay with it all ending there—with the two of you going your separate ways. And it wasn’t okay for her. Aliyah could see it—the sadness in Jenna’s eyes, the way her jaw clenched just a bit tighter than usual. It wasn’t about the Ghost Smoke or Brimstone drama anymore. It was about you.

Her sister wasn’t mad at you for walking away. She was sad that you didn’t seem to need her the way she found herself needing you. Sad that she no longer had a reason to stay connected.

Aliyah glanced at her sister, who was staring straight ahead, her grip on the wheel lighter now but still firm. Jenna didn’t want to admit it, not yet, but she was falling. And Aliyah could only hope she didn’t hit the ground too hard.

As Aliyah mindlessly glanced at her side view mirror, she noticed something.

"Uhm sis, do you think that car's been following us?"

Jenna raises her gaze up to the rear view mirror and she spotted the same car that had been trailing them for a while now—a solid black Escalade. But California traffic is like that, the typical resident wasn't going to lane change like a racer. "I'm sure it's nothing."

Still, to be safe, she made a series of deliberate right turns, one after the other, her pulse quickening with each corner. When she glanced at the mirror again, her fears solidified. The car was still there.

“It’s not nothing, Ali. They are following us,” Jenna said, her voice low but tinged with rising panic.

Aliyah stiffened beside her, her wide eyes darting to the side mirror. “W-what? Who do you think it is? Percy? Or those guys from yesterday?”

Jenna’s jaw clenched as she considered their options.

"Aliyah, call Y/n. Now," Jenna ordered, her voice steady, tossing her phone to her sister.

Aliyah fumbled with the phone, her fingers trembling. “What do I even say? ‘Hey, someone’s following us, want to join the party?’” she muttered nervously, trying to mask her fear.

Jenna shot her a sharp look. “Just tell her where we are and what’s happening. She’ll know what to do.”

Aliyah hesitated for a split second before dialing your number. “It's ringing.” Aliyah whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat.

"Jenna?"

The girl driving couldn't help but feel relief upon the sound of your voice, maybe it was because you both have faced many high stakes situations together and have always made it out on the other side. And in that moment, she felt certain you’d all make it through this one too.

“Okay, so, there’s this car, and it’s been following us for a while. Jenna took a bunch of right turns, and they’re still there. We don’t know who they are, but—”

“Aliyah,” you interrupted, your tone sharp with focus. “Put Jenna on.”

Aliyah quickly handed the phone over, and Jenna brought it to her ear without taking her eyes off the rearview mirror.

“Jenna, can you lose them?” you asked, voice soft, sensing her hesitation.

“I-I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I’ve never done this before—what if I mess up? What if—”

“Jenna,” you interrupted gently, but firmly. “Take a deep breath. You’ve got this. But I need you to help me help you, okay? What’s up ahead?”

Jenna blinked, her focus flicking back to the road. “Uh, there’s a left turn coming up, and... a main road with a lot of traffic.”

“Alright, take the left. Make it clean.”

She nodded, her hands slightly shaky as she turned the wheel, the tires squealing lightly.

“Good,” you encouraged. “Now tell me what’s next. What do you see?”

“There’s an on-ramp to the highway coming up,” she said, her voice tight with nerves.

“Perfect. Get on the highway. Blend into traffic and use the cars to block their line of sight.”

“Okay,” she whispered, guiding the car toward the ramp as Aliyah sat rigid in her seat.

“You’re doing great, Jenna,” you said, keeping your voice calm and steady. “Just focus. You’re faster and smarter than them. Trust yourself.”

Jenna weaved into traffic, her grip still tight on the wheel. She glanced in the rearview mirror and tensed. “They’re still back there.”

“Stay calm,” you said. “What’s in your lane? Any big vehicles?”

“Yeah... there’s a semi up ahead,” she replied, her voice rising with nervous energy.

“Good. Get in its blind spot. Use it as cover. When you’re close to an exit, slip off. They’ll have to stay on the highway.”

She exhaled shakily, maneuvering into position as you guided her through. The tension in the car was thick, but she followed your instructions to the letter.

“Whenever you’re ready,” you said softly.

Jenna swerved off the highway, her heart pounding as the pursuing car sped past the exit.

“They’re gone,” she whispered, her voice thick with disbelief.

“You did it, Jenna,” you said, pride clear in your tone.

She let out a shaky laugh, her shoulders finally relaxing. “We did it,” she corrected, a small smile tugging at her lips.

The line went silent for a moment, the weight of what had just happened hanging in the air. Then, breaking the tension, your voice cut through with a sudden, determined tone.

“Jenna, listen. Can you go home, pack a bag for you and Aliyah, and meet me and Hunter at the mall we went to?”

Jenna’s brow furrowed in confusion. Moments ago, you were adamant about keeping her out of your life, and now you were asking her to pack a bag? She glanced at Aliyah, whose puzzled expression mirrored her own.

Aliyah shrugged dramatically, mouthing, “YOLO.”

“Why?” Jenna asked, her tone cautious.

“I’ll explain everything when we meet. Just trust me and do it, okay?”

Jenna hesitated, her mind racing with questions, but something in your voice made her pause. Finally, she exhaled. “Okay. We’ll meet you there.” And hung up the phone.

“Well, would you look at that—your little lover’s quarrel is finally wrapping up,” Aliyah teased, her grin wide.

“Shut up,” Jenna shot back, though the corners of her lips betrayed her as they curved into a reluctant smile. “I’m still mad at her.”

————

“You two are so confusing,” Hunter chuckled as he drove, his laughter filling the car. “Do you hate each other? Or are you about to jump each other’s bones? Seriously, I can never tell.”

You rolled your eyes, but deep down, you couldn’t help but think he had a point.

“So, care to explain why we’re all packing a bag and meeting up with them again?” Hunter asked, his tone laced with curiosity.

“We’re going on a weekend getaway,” you replied nonchalantly.

Hunter’s head whipped toward you, excitement lighting up his face. “No way! I’ve always wanted to do the Bahamas.”

You laughed. “Not the Bahamas, Hunt. Just somewhere a few hours away. After everything that went down—the meeting, the girls being followed—I think it’s smart for all of us to lay low for a few days. I’m not taking any chances.”

Hunter nodded dramatically, placing a hand over his chest like he was pledging allegiance. “Protecting your girl and your sister-in-law. I respect it.”

Ignoring his teasing, you redirected him. “Just drive us to the garage,” you said firmly. “I need to let Anton know we’ll be out of town for a few days. The last thing I need is him freaking out and sending a search party.”

————

As Hunter pulls into the garage, you take in the sight of the Sinners hard at work, each one laser-focused on their tasks. Was there a race coming up?

Stepping out of the car, your eyes land on Anton at the back, working on a car with Mason. You hadn't seen Mason in a while—not since the Sinner-Viper race nearly two months ago. Not that you missed him; Mason was one of the most aggravating members of the crew. Apparently, Anton in the moment thought so too, judging by the way he was yelling at him for some reason.

"Hey! Long time, no see."

You turned to see Mikey approaching, her brown eyes bright with curiosity.

She tilted her head, eyes scanning both you and Hunter. "So, what have you two been up to?"

"Oh, you know," Hunter chimed in, "just the usual. Saving the day and eating pancakes"

Mikey raised a brow, her skepticism softened by amusement. “Uh-huh. Sounds like you two are living the dream.”

She shifted her attention to you, crossing her arms. “Haven’t seen you around for a few days. No more late nights at the garage?”

You felt a flicker of unease. Something about Mikey always made you cautious, as if she could see right through you. Keeping your tone casual, you rubbed the back of your neck. “Yeah, the Aston’s finished, so I’m finally catching up on sleep. Not much reason to be here right now.”

Mikey tilted her head, clearly not satisfied with your vague answer. “Really? And here I thought this place was your second home. What’s been keeping you busy?”

Before you could formulate a response, Hunter swooped in. “Oh, don’t worry, we’re not slacking off. We’re just gearing up for a little road trip.”

“Road trip?” Mikey repeated, her interest clearly piqued.

Hunter nodded, grinning. “Yeah, figured it’s time for some fresh air and open roads. Recharge the batteries, you know?”

You shot him a subtle glare, but he just winked at you, unfazed.

Mikey narrowed her eyes slightly, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “Interesting. Well, have fun with that. Don’t get into too much trouble.”

“Us? Trouble?” Hunter gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Never.”

"We actually came here to let Anton know we’ll be gone for a couple of days,” you say, flashing Mikey a polite smile. “Catch you later.” Without waiting for a response, you grab Hunter’s arm and drag him along.

“Would it kill you not to spill everything?” you hiss under your breath.

Hunter shrugged, his usual carefree grin firmly in place. “Relax. It’s gonna get out eventually that we’re taking a couple days off. If we act shady, it’ll just make people more suspicious.”

You sighed, shaking your head at his nonchalance. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Together, you made your way toward the back of the garage, where Anton and Mason were knee-deep in their latest project.

“I don’t know why I keep you around, Mason,” Anton groaned, his hands dragging down his face in exasperation. “You incompetent fool!”

Hearing your footsteps, he glanced up, his frustration momentarily melting into surprise. “Y/n? What are you doing here?”

“Hey,” you greeted, keeping your tone light. “I'm kind of in a rush, but just wanted to let you know Hunter and I are heading out of town for a couple of days. Figured I’d let you know so you don’t worry.”

Anton’s brows furrowed as he straightened up, eyeing the both of you. “Heading out? What for?”

“Just a road trip,” you said casually, shrugging like it was no big deal. “You know, get some fresh air, clear our heads. Nothing major.”

His eyes flicked to Hunter, then back to you, his suspicion barely veiled. “Where to and who’s going?”

"We don't really know yet, wanna see where the road takes us you know? And just us two," you replied smoothly, lying without hesitation.

Anton’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he was going to press harder. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, fine. But something feels off about this, and I don’t like it.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “If this is about something dangerous, you better tell me now. You know I’ll have your back.”

You swallowed hard but maintained your composure. “It’s not, I promise. We’ll be fine.”

He didn’t look convinced. Anton studied you for a moment longer before nodding, though his concern was evident. "Alright. Just be careful out there, okay? Keep your phones on and don't do anything stupid."

"Got it," you promised, trying to sound reassuring.

Hunter gave Anton a mock salute. "We'll be model citizens, swear."

Anton rolled his eyes but didn't press further. As you turned to leave, Mason chimed in from where he was leaning against the car. "Bring me back something cool! Like a souvenir or somethin'!"

Hunter snorted. "Sure thing, buddy. How about a map so you can finally figure out how to navigate a racetrack without crashing?"

You couldn't help but laugh as you walked away, though Anton's lingering concern weighed heavily in the back of your mind.

————

The SUV you “borrowed” from the garage rumbled along the highway as you adjusted your grip on the wheel, glancing at Hunter slouched comfortably in the passenger seat. Your packed bag sat in the back alongside his, evidence of your brief pit stop at home.

The memory of Anton’s concerned expression lingered, gnawing at you. You hated that you hadn’t told him the truth. He’d lost his father too—same as you—and you knew better than anyone how much that loss shaped him. How much it shaped both of you. But unlike you, Anton didn’t know there was more to the story. That it wasn’t just a tragic accident.

You felt awful for keeping it from him, for standing there and letting him believe everything was fine. But what were you supposed to do? Drop that bombshell and then tell him you were heading out of town for a few days? There was no way he’d have let you leave. No way he wouldn’t try to step in, to get involved.

And as much as it tore you up inside, you couldn’t let that happen. Not yet. Protecting Jenna—and by extension, your fragile alliance with her—had to come first. There was too much at stake, and dragging Anton into it now would only complicate things further. Still, the weight of your silence felt heavier with each passing mile.

“You good?” Hunter’s voice broke through your spiraling thoughts, pulling you back to the present.

“Yeah,” you muttered, though the word felt hollow.

He raised a brow but didn’t push, thankfully. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, letting the conversation from earlier drift back in.

“I gotta admit. I thought Anton would take a lot more convincing.”

Hunter glanced at you with a smirk. “What, you thought he’d put his foot down? He knows you’re stubborn as hell. Probably figured there was no point fighting you on it.”

“Maybe,” you murmured, though a part of you wasn’t so sure. Anton letting you go that easily still didn’t sit right. He’d been wary, his words cautious, but ultimately, he hadn’t stopped you. You wondered if he trusted you more than you expected—or if he had reasons of his own for letting you leave.

Shaking the thought from your mind, you shifted the conversation. “By the way, you seemed pretty comfortable with Jenna and Aliyah back at the diner.”

Hunter shrugged nonchalantly. “They’re cool. Aliyah’s funny, and Jenna’s… well, Jenna. We were just chatting for a bit before you showed up.”

“Before I showed up?” you echoed, glancing at him skeptically. “She didn’t seem in a chatty mood when I got there.”

Hunter chuckled. “I guess I have that effect on people. Smooth-talker, remember?”

Something about the way he said it made you pause, a memory resurfacing. “Wait. Jenna texted you, didn’t she? How do you even know her?”

Hunter tensed ever so slightly, and you didn’t miss it. “Uh… well…”

The gears in your head were starting to turn. “Hunter,” you pressed, narrowing your eyes. “How do you know Jenna?”

He fidgeted with his hands, clearly stalling. “It’s complicated, alright? Don’t worry about it.”

Before you could demand an answer, the bright lights of the mall parking lot came into view, and you spotted Jenna and Aliyah parked and waiting near the back of the mall. Hunter exhaled dramatically, clearly relieved to be off the hook—for now.

"We're here," he announced unnecessarily, pointing out the obvious.

You rolled your eyes but focused on parking the SUV. As soon as you stepped out, Jenna's sharp gaze locked onto you, her arms crossed, while Aliyah waved with a cheeky grin. Whatever Hunter was hiding would have to wait.

You park the SUV next to their car and step out, heading straight for the trunk. Without a word, you pop it open before turning toward Jenna and Aliyah. Stretching out your hands, you motion for their bags.

Aliyah hands over her duffle bag without hesitation, but Jenna hesitates, squinting at you with suspicion. Her scoff cuts through the quiet as you turn around and load the bags into the trunk.

Following you to the back of the SUV, she crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. "Uhm, are you planning to explain what's going on anytime soon?"

You close the trunk with a sharp thunk and meet her gaze, keeping your tone steady. "I will."

You glance over your shoulder, flashing her a grin. "Oh, and hey—nice work shaking those guys. Not everyone's got those skills. Seriously, you were impressive."

As you turn back to the SUV, Jenna's voice comes softly, almost shyly, "Thanks."

You don't catch it, too focused on adjusting the bags in the trunk, but Aliyah and Hunter exchange knowing looks. Jenna's rare vulnerability wasn't something they saw often, and the faint pink dusting her cheeks didn't go unnoticed either.

————

You merge onto Interstate 5, the highway stretching south through California. The evening sun dips lower on the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of gold and fiery orange. Hunter has his window down, one arm draped lazily over the edge, while Aliyah hums along to a faint tune playing on the radio. Jenna sits diagonally across from you, arms crossed, her gaze fixed out the window. The soft pout on her lips and the sharpness of her glare suggest she’s deep in thought—and likely still mad at you.

You glance at her through the rearview mirror, unable to help the small smile that tugs at your lips. Even in her frustration, she looks ridiculously adorable.

As you bring your eyes back to the road, they flicker back to the mirror—and that’s when it happens. Jenna catches your gaze, her sharp brown eyes locking onto yours.

Crap.

She breaks the silence, her tone firm but tinged with curiosity. “Alright, enough stalling. Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?”

You’re relieved she doesn’t make a snarky comment about catching you staring. Instead, you sigh and focus back on the road, deciding it’s time to answer her question.

“I’m sorry,” you start, glancing briefly at her reflection, then at Aliyah. “To both of you. You were right earlier… about being involved in all this.”

Hunter nods in silent approval from the passenger seat, encouraging you to keep going. “…As much as I don’t want either of you involved,” you continue, catching him facepalming out of the corner of your eye, “there’s no avoiding it now.”

"Neither one of can help it, and that car following you? It kind of put things into perspective for me. So I think the safe option for all of us to get out of town for a few days."

Jenna raises a brow, her expression unreadable, but she doesn’t respond right away. Aliyah and Hunter both glance at each other, waiting for someone to fill the silence. When Jenna finally speaks, her voice is softer than you expected. “Still didn’t answer the question,” she says. “Where are we going?”

You shrug one shoulder, keeping your eyes on the road. “I don’t know,” you admit with a lopsided grin. “I’m just driving.”

Jenna stares at you for a long moment before exhaling and shaking her head. She doesn’t voice the acceptance of your apology, but something in her gaze softens, and you can tell she’s made her peace with it—for now.

“Unbelievable,” she mutters, loud enough for everyone to hear. “We’re on the run, and you’re winging it? Great plan, genius.”

Aliyah bursts into laughter, and Hunter cheers, “This is classic! Road trip roulette—who needs a destination when you’ve got vibes?”

Jenna pinches the bridge of her nose, mumbling something under her breath, but you swear you catch the faintest hint of a smile.

————

The next hour passes surprisingly smoothly. Everyone keeps themselves entertained in their own way, avoiding any mention of the issues that pushed you all to leave town in the first place. Aliyah has her headphones in, swaying gently to whatever music she’s listening to, while Jenna scrolls through her phone, occasionally glancing out the window. Hunter fiddles with the radio, switching stations until he finds a faintly decent song, only to switch it again moments later.

You keep your focus on the road, but your mind drifts. A part of you wished you could bring back the easy banter you used to have with Jenna—back before you ghosted her. It would've made the drive so much more fun. Instead, there’s this quiet tension hanging in the air between you two, one you’re desperately hoping will dissolve sooner rather than later. At least Hunter agreed to take over driving on the way back. Maybe by then, things between you and Jenna will be better.

Suddenly, Hunter starts humming, his voice cutting through the silence. At first, it’s aimless, but then it takes shape.

“Ninety-nine bottles of milk on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of milk!” he sings loudly, grinning as he looks around at everyone.

You groan. “Oh, no. Don’t.”

Aliyah chuckles behind you, joining in softly, “Take one down, pass it around, ninety-eight bottles of milk on the wall!”

Jenna sighs dramatically but mutters, “This is so dumb,” just before she jumps in on the next line. Within minutes, the whole car erupts into an awkward yet oddly harmonious singalong, voices overlapping and laughter spilling between verses. By the time you hit ninety-five bottles, everyone’s belting at the top of their lungs.

It’s ridiculous, it’s cheesy, and it’s exactly what you all needed.

When the laughter finally dies down, Jenna clears her throat. “Uh, I need to pee.”

You glance at her through the rearview mirror, raising an eyebrow. Internally, you can’t help but think, Really? We’ve only been on the road for an hour. Did she not go before we left?

But you don’t voice the thought. Instead, you nod, spotting a route stop up ahead. “Alright, we’ll pull over.”

As you exit the highway and roll into the rest stop, Hunter claps your shoulder. “Road trips, man. This is what it’s all about.”

You just shake your head, chuckling as you park the SUV.

————

As everyone steps out at the route stop, the golden light of the setting sun casts long shadows over the parking lot. Hunter stretches dramatically, mumbling something about his aching legs, while Aliyah is already darting toward the brightly lit convenience store, proclaiming her hunt for snacks. Jenna heads to the bathroom, and once she returns she lingers by the SUV, her arms folded, her body language closed.

“Need anything?” you ask, hesitating slightly as you approach her.

She shakes her head but doesn’t look at you. “I’m good.”

You nod, biting back the urge to say more, and join Aliyah and Hunter into the store. The shelves are stocked with everything from bags of chips to questionable gas station sushi.

Hunter immediately gravitates toward the candy aisle, gleefully holding up a pack of gummy worms. “You know you want some,” he teases, tossing a pack at Aliyah, who yelps and tries to dodge.

You chuckle at their antics but can’t help glancing back toward the SUV, wondering if Jenna’s still standing there, or if she’s wandered in.

She hasn’t.

Grabbing a couple of bottled drinks and a bag of chips, you head to the register. Aliyah sidles up beside you, arms full of snacks. “Do you think we should get something for Jenna? She barely ate earlier.”

You hesitate, and recall her eating a chocolate the day you both hung out at the mall and then grab that brand of chocolate from a display near the checkout.

Outside, you find Jenna leaning against the side of the car, scrolling through her phone. You hold out the candy as you approach. “Figured you might want this.”

She glances at it, then at you, her lips twitching like she’s suppressing a thank-you. “Thanks,” she says quietly, taking it without meeting your eyes.

There’s a pause. The others are still inside, their laughter faintly audible from the store. For a moment, it’s just you and Jenna in the fading light.

“You okay?” you ask softly, unsure if you’re even expecting an answer.

She finally meets your gaze, her expression guarded but not unkind. “I’m fine,” she replies, but her tone doesn’t match the words.

You want to push, to ask what’s really on her mind, but something about the way she holds herself stops you. Instead, you nod and step back, giving her space.

She seemed fine interacting with you in the group, she was more vocal. But once it was just you two she got all quiet. But she surprised you with her next words.

She finally glances at you properly, her eyes searching yours. “Thanks, by the way. For this. I know you didn’t have to.”

You swallow, suddenly aware of how close she’s standing. “You don’t have to thank me, Jenna. I just… I want to make sure you’re safe—and your sister!”

She nods faintly, looking down at the ground. For a second, it feels like the rest of the world fades away, leaving just the two of you under the flickering lights.

Before the moment can stretch too long, Hunter sticks his head out of the car window. “Yo! Are we road-tripping or setting up camp here? Let’s go!”

Jenna chuckles, the tension breaking as she steps back. “Guess we should get going.”

“Yeah.” You push off the SUV, giving her a small nod. “Let’s hit the road.”

As you both climb back into the car, you can’t help but glance at her through the mirror again. She doesn’t notice this time, and you’re glad she doesn’t.

————

"Hey, Y/n, remember the car I was driving yesterday?" Aliyah asks, her voice breaking the comfortable silence that’s fallen over the SUV.

It’s been about two and a half hours since you hit the road, and everyone is busy with their snacks. Conversations drift in and out, short bursts of chatter punctuated by the rustling of wrappers.

You hum softly, urging her to continue.

Aliyah glances at you in the rearview mirror, her tone casual. “It’s pretty cool that you own that car. My dad used to have the same one, and I remember him always going on and on about how rare it was. Small world, huh?” She shrugs, clearly amused by the coincidence.

You and Jenna freeze. For a moment, no one says anything, and the awkward silence hangs in the air like a weight.

You glance at Jenna through the rearview mirror, and she avoids your gaze. Great, you think. Of all the things to come up right now, this had to be it.

“Well…” you clear your throat, deciding Aliyah deserves to know at this point. “That was your dad’s car.”

Aliyah’s brows furrow in confusion. “What? No, his was black.”

“Yeah,” you admit with an awkward laugh, “and then I wrapped it green.”

The realization dawns on her, and she turns to Jenna, her jaw dropping as she whisper yells, “Oh my God! You like the girl who stole Dad’s car?”

Jenna’s eyes widen, and her face flushes. “Aliyah, shut up!” she snaps, but her tone lacks bite.

Aliyah smirks, clearly reveling in her discovery. “I mean, this is peak comedy. She stole Dad’s car, and you’re just fine with it?”

“I’m not fine with it,” Jenna retorts, but her lips curve slightly as if she’s holding back a smile. “And for the record, it was both of us who stole it.”

Aliyah raises her hands in mock surrender. “Oh, so now you’re an accomplice? Love that for you.”

While they bicker in their private conversation, Jenna’s eyes soften, and her gaze turns nostalgic. “That day was insane,” she murmurs, more to herself than anyone else. “We had no idea what we were doing, but it was... kind of thrilling."

Not knowing what the two girls were talking about, you glance at her in the mirror for the millionth time today. Jenna’s smile, faint and genuine, tugs at something deep in your chest, but before you can dwell on it, Hunter’s voice cuts in.

“Well, look at you,” he says with a laugh, nudging your arm. “Stealing the car of the dad of the girl you like. That’s one for the books, huh?”

“Shut up, Hunter,” you groan, shoving his arm off you.

He just grins wider. “Nah, I’m serious. You’ve really outdone yourself here. Romantic and criminal—who knew you had it in you?”

Rolling your eyes, you lean back into the seat, but an idea suddenly strikes you. "Alright, since we're all in a sharing mood, how about this—Hunter, how exactly do you and Jenna know each other?" Your tone pointed, almost teasing.

Silence.

Not a word, not even the rustle of snack wrappers from the backseat.

Aliyah breaks the tension, her brows knitting as she glances at her sister. "Wait...what? I thought we both met Hunter this morning?"

You glance in the rearview mirror. Jenna’s expression is stone cold, her face unreadable, like she’s mastered the art of giving away nothing. She doesn’t so much as blink, just stares out the window as though the question didn’t even register.

Hunter, on the other hand, looks like he’s sweating bullets. His hand fidgets with the strap of his seatbelt, and he clears his throat awkwardly. “Uh, well… you see…”

Before Hunter can dig himself into an even deeper hole, Jenna suddenly bursts out laughing. The sound is so unexpected, so completely jarring after the tension-filled silence, that your head whips around to look at her.

Her laughter is light and melodic, the kind that shakes her shoulders and makes her eyes crinkle at the corners. For a second, you forget about the chaos in the car and just stare.

Her laugh is kind of… cute, you think, catching yourself and quickly looking back at the road before anyone notices.

Jenna waves a hand, her laughter dying down just enough to speak. “Relax, Hunter. Seriously, it’s not a big deal. Go ahead, tell them.”

Aliyah sighs loudly from the backseat, crossing her arms. “Okay, my patience is wearing thin. Someone better spill before I start throwing snacks.”

"Okay fine, you tell them Jenna, since you think it's so funny," Hunter mumbles defeated, shrinking into his seat.

Jenna glances at Hunter, who is clearly trying to become one with his seatbelt. With a small shrug, she answers casually, “I walked in on Hunter… being intimate.”

You blink, nearly missing your next lane change. “Oh, wow. That’s… embarrassing,” you mutter, trying not to laugh. But then your brain starts piecing things together, and you frown. “Wait a second. How does that even happen? Like… was this in public or something? Did you come to Brimstone, or were you—”

Hunter interrupts, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I was in Summer Valley, okay?”

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. “Oh, okay. Get that bag, I guess. But, man, from the way you were sweating, I thought it was something really bad.”

For a second, you think the tension has finally lifted. But then Hunter lets out a resigned sigh, muttering, “I was with someone from the Viper's crew.”

It all made sense now, why Hunter was so understanding of the idea of you being affiliated with a Viper—why there was two toothbrushes in his bathroom.

He had his own fucking Viper.

“What the fuck?!” you shout, your voice climbing a whole octave as you instinctively swerve the car.

Hunter grabs the oh-shit handle. “Whoa, whoa, focus! You’re driving, not judging!”

“What the fuck Hunter?!” you yell again, steadying the wheel as the SUV veers slightly back into the lane. Thankfully, it’s almost 8 pm, and the highway is relatively empty, so you narrowly avoid disaster. "You're fucking a Viper?! What the actual—"

Hunter throws up his hands defensively. “What’s the big deal?! You are too!”

You slam the brakes—figuratively, of course—your head whipping around to glare at him. “EXCUSE ME?!”

Your face goes red-hot, and you stammer, “I’m not—what—literally who?! I’m not fucking anybody!”

Hunter smirks, sensing your flustered state. “Oh, sure. But you wish you were fucking a Viper.”

If you thought you couldn’t blush any harder, you were wrong. From the backseat, Aliyah is howling with laughter while Jenna buries her face in her hands, her own ears tinged pink.

“You’re delusional,” you snap at Hunter, but your embarrassment only fuels his laughter. “Seriously, who even—"

“Doesn’t matter!” Hunter interrupts, his grin practically splitting his face. “I’m just saying, don’t judge me when you’ve got your own Viper situation brewing back there.”

“Hunter, I swear—”

Aliyah cuts you off, gasping between giggles. “Oh my God, I can’t breathe. This is the best road trip ever!”

Jenna groans softly, pressing a hand to her forehead, but the small, stupid smile tugging at her lips betrays her. She hated being teased, especially by Aliyah, who had the precision of a sniper when it came to embarrassing her. Yet, as the chaos bubbled in the backseat, Jenna found her thoughts wandering to the things Hunter had been saying to poke at you.

What had you two been talking about? Hunter clearly knew something she didn’t, and now, curiosity gnawed at her despite herself. She glanced at you, watching as you muttered under your breath and tightened your grip on the steering wheel like it might save you. It wasn’t just the teasing; something else was making you squirm, and Jenna couldn’t stop the faint curve of her lips from growing into a fuller smile.

She didn’t know what Hunter was hinting at, but the way your ears burned red and your gaze stayed glued to the road… she couldn’t help but find it a little endearing.

————

The freeway stretched ahead in an endless ribbon of asphalt, swallowed by the inky darkness of night. The faint glow of distant city lights barely pierced the dark sky, leaving only the occasional flash of headlights to illuminate the passing road signs and surrounding emptiness. It was quiet now, except for the hum of the tires against the pavement and the faint sound of Aliyah’s soft snores from the backseat. The earlier chaos had subsided, leaving the SUV calm in stillness.

You glanced over at Hunter, slumped against the window with his head bobbing slightly with the movement of the car. He and Aliyah had devoured the candy earlier like children on Halloween and, predictably, crashed hard. For the last thirty minutes, they’d been completely out, and you were silently grateful for the reprieve. Any more teasing, and you were sure your heart would’ve leapt out of your chest.

Your heart was still pounding, though.

You sigh as you wrestled with a thought you’d been avoiding for a while. You never addressed ghosting Jenna. You mentioned to her at the meeting that you’d talk later, but then you didn’t. And now, things between you were stuck in this strange, awkward limbo. You hated it. You hated the distance and the way your banter had evaporated into stilted exchanges.

More than anything, you wanted this trip to be enjoyable for both of you—for her.

“Hey, Jenna you awake?” you said softly, testing the waters. You knew she was awake. Her breathing wasn’t even enough to fool you. You just needed something to break the ice.

“Yeah, what’s up?” she muttered, her voice low to avoid waking her sister.

You hesitated for a moment, your hands flexing nervously against the steering wheel. Then you took a deep breath and decided to do what needed to be done.

“I just… I want to apologize,” you began, keeping your eyes fixed on the road ahead. “For ghosting you. I know it was shitty, and you didn’t deserve it.”

She didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel her eyes on you, listening.

“I… I had a conversation with my mom the first day I didn’t reply to you,” you continued, your voice soft and unsteady. “And it—it messed with my head. I found out my dad wanted out of the Sinners. That completely flipped everything I thought I knew. I was already so confused, and it just made things worse. And then…” You paused, forcing yourself to push through the lump in your throat. “It made me feel terrified. Of everything. Of this whole situation. And of you. Of what you made me feel—what I felt for—”

You clamped your mouth shut, cutting yourself off realizing you spilled too much. Your mind was already coming up with excuses for what you meant by what you made me feel. Heat crawled up your neck, your knuckles stark white against the dim light from the dashboard. You scrambled internally for a way to gloss over your slip-up, but the words weren’t coming.

“I’m not trying to excuse what I did,” you said after a beat. “There’s no excuse for it. I just wanted to explain, to tell you why I acted the way I did. And to say I’m sorry. Really sorry.”

She's not saying anything. The silence stretched uncomfortably, and you risked a quick glance in her direction, her expression unreadable in the faint glow of the passing headlights.

Panic began to claw at your chest.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” you blurted out, your words rushing now. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I know what I did was shitty, and I know I have no right to expect forgiveness—”

"I know you didn't mean to hurt me, Greaser."

Greaser.

You smile.

And that was all she said until Hunter and Aliyah awoken from their slumber twenty minutes later. But it was enough.

————

"Damn, how long was I out?" Hunter grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he shifted in his seat.

Aliyah stretched with an exaggerated groan, yawning as if she'd been asleep for days.

"Only about forty minutes," you replied, glancing at them. The weight in your chest felt lighter after your moment with Jenna, but a part of you braced for the teasing chaos that might erupt now that they were awake.

Aliyah groaned dramatically. "Ugh, I was hoping the driving part would be over when I woke up. Are we seriously just gonna spend days cooped up in this car?"

"We’ve only been driving for like three hours," Hunter pointed out with a shrug.

"And that’s not far enough?" Aliyah raised a brow.

Hunter nodded, turning his gaze to you. "She’s got a point, you know."

"...I have a suggestion." Aliyah finally says.

"Shoot," you encourage her.

She leaned forward slightly, a mischievous grin spreading across her face as she looked at Jenna. "How about we visit Markus? We’re probably close to him already."

Jenna’s face lit up instantly, her smile matching her sister’s excitement. "That would be amazing, Ali, but… are we really gonna risk leading trouble straight to him?"

Aliyah waved the concern off with a dismissive hand. "Come on, you really think those bad guys are gonna follow us all the way to LA?"

While the sisters debated, you leaned toward Hunter, lowering your voice. "Who the fuck is Markus?"

Hunter smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "What’s the matter? You jealous?"

"What? No!" you snapped, scoffing like the idea was ridiculous. But your mind betrayed you, lingering on Jenna’s radiant smile. Who was this guy, and why did she look so happy talking about him?

The sisters’ conversation quieten down, and Aliyah finally addresses you, her grin still firmly in place. "Y/n, how does a trip to UCLA sound?"

next chapter

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 1 year ago

Text

🪱🧠 Wiggly Wednesday 🧠🪱

It's Wednesday, peeps! Post a brainworm, tag some friends!

Today, I'm thinking about ...

... Eddie playing guitar in the band on a luxury cruise ship. Sure, the passengers are a bunch of snobby assholes with an abominable taste in music, but Wayne was so eager for him to fill in when his coworker's son broke that arm, and the pay is decent. Almost worth putting on the straightjacket of a suit and the bowtie that makes him feel like a clown.

At least he isn't stuck doing the entertainment programme for the passengers’ spoiled little brats. He's seen the stupid, cheap costumes in the staff garderobe. The seams on that Peter Pan costume are frayed and coming apart, and whatever poor girl has to play Tinkerbell will barely be able to cover her ass in that flimsy dress.

Except the person who shows up to collect the brats on the first day, clad in sheer tights and the skimpy green atrocity, glittery tulle wings strapped to their back, isn't a girl. Eddie’s fingers fumble on the guitar strings - not that he can be blamed, he thinks - and Tinkerdude turns and fucking winks at him. He herds the brats out and into the waiting arms of his partner, a lanky, freckled chick wearing what looks like … yup, the Peter Pan costume. Then he's gone, leaving Eddie marveling at the vision he just beheld.

He meets Tinkerdude in the garderobe later that night (and absolutely doesn't almost swallow his own tongue, thank you very much), and the next night, and the night after that. Over the course of the cruise, Eddie finds out more and more about him.

His name is Steve. He's set to study business economics. He'd rather do something with kids, but his dad insisted he take over the family business. Right now, he's doing a gap year, getting to know different jobs on the cruise line. He wears the skimpy fairy costume so that his partner Robin won't have to. He likes sports and 80s pop music, he has a heart of gold and a delightfully bitchy sense of humor, and he makes the sweetest little noises when Eddie fucks him against the wall of the staff garderobe on the last night of the cruise.

And if Eddie gets a call a few weeks later, asking him to play guitar on another ship because the son of the cruise line's owner specifically requested him? Well, he's about to find out one more thing about Steve.

Edit: The incredible @arelliann drew Steve and Robin in their costumes!!! 💚

Some no-pressure tags: @eyesofshinigami @a-little-unsteddie @steddie-island @vegasol @medusapelagia

@sunflowerharrington @matchingbatbites @devondespresso @tangerinesteve

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #wiggly wednesday #hype's wiggly Wednesday #hype's brainworms

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zepskies · 4 months ago

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(Not a fanfic request) Imagine spoiling Ben and/or kissing him stupid. Just getting through all the machismo stuff and becoming his safe space. Doing mundane tasks but they never feel mundane because you’re with your best friend. Imagine him growing as a person. Imagine him looking at you with nothing but adoration. Jensen Ackles has so much to atone for— How dare he be so talented. 😭💕

Ahhh you're giving me the warm fuzzies, anon! 🥰 I definitely think this would be the vibe between SB/Ben and the reader in my series Break Me Down, and I've tried to give that sense of them being each other's safe space in many of the sequel stories.

In that story-verse, Ben's the one who makes you feel safe, who gives you the support you need so you don't have to be so strong all the time. While you're the one who makes him feel like there's someone in the world who understands him, accepts him for who he is, but also takes him to task when he needs it.

More domestic headcanons with Ben:

(Whoops, my hand slipped. 😂💚)

You and Ben watch old movies together and argue about the plot, with your modern, feminist view vs. his "traditionalist" view. But he also gives you behind the scenes info whenever he actually knows the actors, directors, etc. -- like the best movie commentary ever.

Ben won't easily admit it, but one of his favorite things is just chilling on the couch with you, flipping through channels, drinking a glass of whiskey or snacking on junk. You using him as a body pillow, basically. Or him with his head in your lap while you scratch his back or run your fingers through his hair. You like playing with his hair, the soft strands.

You also like his hands, long fingers and wide palms. But he likes the gentleness of your hands.

Ben likes taking you out to dinner, but he also likes going grocery shopping with you because he likes picking out new things to try (even as he makes fun of all the "oatmilk this" and "quinoa that").

Late at night, if either of you can't sleep (or after a few rounds of keeping each other up), Ben starts to open up.

He tells you about his life before Compound V, about his mother, about his father, about the world he grew up in, and sometimes, very rarely, about that Russian lab.

Those are the times that you have to hide how much your heart breaks, because you don't want him to instinctively close back up, not wanting to be pitied or seen as less of a man for being honest about what he went through.

He also admits to things he did when he was the "leader" of Payback -- his "glory days." What he doesn't admit, but you can tell just by his tone and demeanor, is that he's less proud and yearning those days than he used to be.

Actually, he wouldn't go back to those days even if he could.

Because now, he has you. He has a real family. That's the main thing that's real to him now.

AN: Again, didn't mean for this to become a mini HC, but there ya go! loll 💚

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bankabb · 3 months ago

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Sash

Fic written by @razildor

This is page 1 of 4. To view full uncensored comic Here

Fic written by @razildor for our mini-collab 💚

Tensions are high to say the least as the two enter Emmrich's room. The taller one removes his coat carefully, trying to control the bubbling anger deep within his chest, yet failing as he throws it onto the chair near his desk, hazel eyes never leaving the woman's tense back after setting his staff to the side.

“You should have taken the other path-”

“Oh Maker Emmrich! It's too late for that now! It's over isn't it? We did what we set out to accomplish: taking down that Venatori group.”

Dahlia rolls her eyes, sighing in annoyance, removing her own coat and throwing it onto the same chair as Emmrich’s.

“By you being so reckless? Just to shave a few seconds off? They SAW you coming! If it wasn’t for Davrin’s shield they would have-”

“Yet you never bothered to say anything before I told the team to take that path?! Why?”

“I… Well I thought you would make a far more educated guess! That’s why I didn’t say-”

“So you were being too nice to question my actions?”

“It wasn’t a matter of being ‘nice’. It was a matter of-”

The Mage grunts at the prod to his chest from Dahlia’s finger, glaring down at her. She doesn't back down, stepping onto her tiptoes to poke at his chest again, trying to match his height yet failing, being far smaller than him.

“If my recklessness is a problem then your niceness is a problem as well!”

“I beg your pardon? How is that a problem?”

Dahlia huffs in annoyance as she settles back onto her feet, crossing her arms to glare up at Emmrich, her anger getting the better of her.

“You’re too fucking nice with everything you do! And I mean everything!”

"Volkarin couldn't fight himself out of a paper bag! He'd be politely asking it to remove itself!" Johanna’s skull adds from her perch.

Emmrich sighs loudly, a wave of his hand silencing the skull with a spell. Looking back at Dahlia with a deep frown, his hands steeple in front of him, trying to gain some control of the tense situation, without the ‘help’ from the half lich.

“Now, without the ‘helpful’ insight from Johanna. Dahlia, please. This is not the matter of my so-called ‘niceness’ being the problem here, it’s clearly your ability to be reckless.”

“Right, as if you could be anything but nice.”

Dahlia rolls her eyes, turning to head towards the bookcase to find something to read. Anything to get her mind off the mission and the stupid argument the two were having, wanting nothing more than to relax for the rest of the evening before sleeping.

“I’m sorry… What did you just say?”

Emmrich’s tone is low, deeper than normal. Something in the air has changed, but Dahlia doesn’t pay much mind to it. She rolls her eyes again as she takes a book off a shelf, reading the title for a second, opening the pages as she replies, off-hand.

“I said: as if you could be anything but nice.”

The only warning Dahlia has is his fast approaching footsteps, followed by a hand on her shoulder forcing her to turn. A gasp leaves her lips at the sight of Emmrich’s disheveled look, his eyes aglow green. There is a deep growl from the Necromancer as he crushes his lips against hers, pushing Dahlia back into the bookcase, ignoring the books that fall from it and her hand.

“Too nice am I? Really?” He spits out.

A gold-ringed hand shifts to grab her neck, using his height to tower over her, strands of his silver hair covering his eyes. Dahlia glares up at Emmrich, reaching up to pull on the chain of his collar pin, bringing him even closer down to her. Lips push against his, followed by a bite, words slipping from her lips before she can think, truly being reckless.

“As if you can be anything but nice”

The Necromancer's eyes narrow at her challenge. He gives a grunt as he pulls her closer by the neck, lips once more pressing together, his teeth giving a sharp nip.

“Then allow me to prove myself, darling.”

Emmrich gives Dahlia little time to react, dragging her towards his desk by the arm, pushing her to lay flat on the cold surface. His ringed hands quickly strip her bottom half off. Falling to his knees, Emmrich pushes apart Dahlia’s thighs, diving between them. There is hunger in his eyes as the Necromancer slides a wet tongue from hole to bud, rubbing in small circles as her hands find their way into his hair. She pushes up into his mouth begging for more.

“Oh, Maker, Emmrich! More! Please!”

Emmrich pulls back slightly, a chuckle leaving his chest. Dahlia shivers from his warm breath, his chin already covered in her fluids. A clatter of gold rings land on the desk and a soft gasp leaves her at the feeling of a large finger sliding into her warmth. Pushing and pulling, twisting and turning, then more fingers, gradually picking up speed until the air is filled with the slick sound of her cunt. Her hips roll to meet each thrust, the tightening of pleasure building more and more, balancing on the brink yet missing that extra edge.

“O-oh… Fuc- Ahhhhhh! Emmrich please.. a little- mo-more!

The tongue returns over her swollen bud, dancing over it, sending spikes of pleasure running through her body, fingers holding on for dear life as Dahlia finally tips over the edge with a cry, back arching, chasing her climax, letting out a gasp of air as she collapses onto the desk.

Lilac grey eyes slowly come back into focus, just in time to see Emmrich licking his fingers clean of her wetness, one by one. His hazel eyes snap to meet her own as he ever so slowly licks the last finger, coming up to cage her between his arms on the desk. Dahlia’s own arms slowly sneak around his neck, a teasing grin on her lips.

“Oh, Emmrich. I knew you couldn’t be some brute. You’re far too kind for that.”

Dahlia slides her hand up his chest, coming to rest the palm over his heart, feeling it’s beat beneath it. As the Necromancer's lips part to speak, the younger Mage bites his bottom lip, a giggle leaving her at the sight of the dishevelled man.

Emmrich’s nostrils flare in annoyance, quickly pulling back ignoring the other Mage’s protest of him moving. He grabs her arm to pull her to her feet with him, crushing his lips to hers once more before turning Dahlia in his arms, pushing her over the desk with a growl.

“I see I still have much to prove to you then, my sweet.”

“Hm, you really do need to try harder, my love.”

Emmrich’s ringed hand on the back of her neck keeps her pinned, fingers tightening when she tries to move. There is the sound of cloth moving aside, then a gasp from the younger Mage at the feeling of Emmrich's cock sliding in between her legs, gathering the wetness between lips before sliding into her tight cunt, right to the base, making sure she takes all of him. As she lets out a scream, body arching upwards, she is quickly pushed back down, Emmrich giving a harsh command.

“Down. You will stay down until I am done with you.”

Her eyes widen at the feeling of something soft sliding round her waist, hoisting her hips in place, sharp thrusts giving her no time to react.

Dahlia claws at the table under her, trying in vain to get away from Emmrich's relentless thrusts into her. A cry rips from her throat as she's pulled back by the sash around her waist, each end held by gold-ringed hands.

“Oh you're not escaping.” Emmrich grunts out, emphasising his point with a sharp thrust that sends her forward, knocking her glasses askew. He keeps her hips high up by use of the sash, her toes barely brushing the floor.

“Ahhh!! Emmrich! I..I'm about to-”

Her climax crashes through her quickly, a hand quickly moving to reach behind in an attempt to halt Emmrich's thrusts into her cunt as she starts to become sensitive. He quickly snatches her hand, pinning it to her back with a dark laugh.

“We're not done yet, my dear.”

Emmrich quickly pulls Dahlia up to her feet, pinning her to the desk to give himself enough time to remove her glasses. He sets them to the side with much more care than he shows her in that moment, his hands bringing the sash up over her eyes, cutting what little sight she has off. Her breath hitches, a sense of dread bubbling in her chest as Dahlia’s vision disappears from her. A hand scrambles to the sash, trying to remove it, but a ringed hand catches her wrist. She gives a whimper at the sound of his voice near her ear.

“I will show you how ‘not nice’ I can be. You will take me deep inside, my Little Dahlia, you will take every part of me that I give you.”

The Mage quickly lifts her into the air, feet dangling as he thrusts back into her quivering warmth mercilessly over and over again, ripping screams from her throat as she comes again, squeezing around his cock, covering it with her seeping wetness. He doesn't relent, pushing her through the pleasure.

“Ohhh! Fuck! Emmrich, please!”

Her smaller hands feel their way up his arm, wrapping them around his much larger one that held her neck. Her head rests back on him, shivers running down to her core with each grunt of his into her ear. All she can do is feel him, the loss of her sight leaving her unsure on what to expect from the man that is her Emmrich. Her eyes roll back at the feeling as Emmrich’s cock hits the sweet spot that has her toes curling, mouth dropping open, a string of moans falling from her lips. Dahlia’s feet kick slightly in the air, unsure if she wants to pull away or try to push more back into him.

“Pleaseplease-”

“Take all of me, darling.”

“That's it, ohhh how exquisite your tight warmth feels around me.”

“Be a good girl and give me another, I want to feel you quivering over me until you have forgotten your very name.”

She comes crashing around his cock, squeezing tightly until her legs are quivering just as he desires, drool slowly dripping down her chin. Her cunt leaks over him and onto the floor, Dahlia’s nails digging into his arm, unaware of the marks she's leaving on him.

“That's it, take it deeper, just like that.” He mumbles into her ear, rocking his hips through her pleasure, each deep thrust pulling a gasp from her throat.

Emmrich slowly lowers Dahlia to her feet, letting her lean on him as her legs quiver. The air fills with their heavy breathing. Emmrich doesn’t remove the sash yet. Another gasp escapes her, his cock sliding deeper into her as he pulls the smaller woman closer to him, his ringed hands likely to leave marks on her hips, not that she minds.

“I thi-think you’ve proven your point, Emmrich…” Dahlia mutters breathlessly, turning to bury her face into his vest, trying to slow her beating heart. Little moans leave her lips as she squeezes uncontrollably around his still hard cock, shivering at the hot breath near her ear, her own hitching slightly at his words.

“Have I?”

Dahlia gasps at the feeling of his cold rings on her shoulder, pushing her roughly against the desk she was bent over a few moments ago.

“Emmrich! Again?!”

“Come now darling, you will take another, just for me before I fill you deep with my seed.”

Emmrich leans over her to grab her by the neck, smirking next to her ear.

“Perhaps keeping it inside you for the day will be a good reminder of what I am capable of.”

“Ha… Still waiting for you to prove anything, Emmrch.”

Emmrich thrusts back into her quivering cunt in one thrust, giving her little time to process the feeling. Each deep, rough thrust knocks the air from her lungs. Her head falls to lay on the desk, biting her lip to the point of almost breaking skin. All Dahlia can hear is the slapping of skin on skin, the wet slick sounds that accompany Emmrich’s grunts each time he thrusts in.

The wood of the desk squeaks to the rhythm of the Mage’s harsh movement, watching how his cock slips in and out of Dahlia, the way her ass ripples at each harsh thrust. A firm thrust sends the smaller woman across the desk, ripping a sharp grunt from his throat as her hands scrambling to grip the edge with a breathless laugh.

“Keep that up Emmrich, and I’ll- Ahh!”

A ringed hand in her hair pushes her down into the wood as a gloved hand pushes between her shoulders, keeping her perfectly pinned beneath the Necromancer. Her cunt squeezes around Emmrich’s hard cock as the pleasure builds within her again, as a boot nudges her legs apart.

“Legs apart darling. Oh, look at that: you can listen”

“Such a good girl.”

A whimper falls from Dahlia’s lips, eyes closing behind the blindfold as she feels her walls pulse around his cock, the praise hitting her without warning, doing such things to her body that she can never deny. Dahlia hears a breathless laugh above her, eyes shifting behind the sash, trying to pinpoint Emmrich’s next move. Her muscles stiffen at the warm breath near the tip of her pointed ear.

“Emmrich, don’t you dare-”

A long moan rips from her throat as the Necromancer’s lips brush against the tip, a small nibble before trailing lips down, being mindful of the gold piercings. She can feel the smirk on his face followed by his wet tongue slowly tracing her ear, sending shivers down her back. She can’t move, fully pinned in place by a huge gold-ringed hand that quickly grabs her by the neck again.

“I will very much dare, my dear Dahlia.” A whisper to her ear before quickly shoving her face back into the desk, hand threading through hair as he sets a brutal pace once more, ripping screams and moans of pleasure from the woman, the hand gripping her hip likely to leave marks, a sight likely to send the Necromancer feral later.

“I want another from you.”

“I-I don’t think I-ahhh can!!”

“Another. Now.”

The sultry growl from Emmrich’s voice near her ear sends Dahlia towards the edge, rolling tightness in her gut finally releasing, shockwaves after shockwaves bolting through her body, hands scraping along the wood of the desk. Emmrich’s relentless thrusts stop for nothing, pushing through the tight walls of her cunt, her fluids leaking down onto the edge of the desk, dripping slowly to the floor between her feet. She fully loses control of her body, mind starting to haze from the pleasure. The last thing she hears is a long moan from Emmrich, the last thing she feels is his seed filling her to the brim, their mixture slowly dripping out of her abused cunt.

“Emmrich… I…” She tries to call out to him, fighting through the fog that hazes her mind, resting her forehead on the desk, letting sore muscles relax, ears twitching from the sound of his voice. It sounds… Concerned? She isn’t too sure, unable to fully form a thought let alone words.

“Dahlia are you- Maker! Darling I’m so sor-”

Again she can’t fully make out anything, her head slowly swaying, not fully ready to give up the bliss that runs through her body and mind. A smile forms on her face as she slips fully into darkness, letting sleep embrace her.

Soft light across the sheets wakes the slumbering woman, lilac grey eyes fluttering open, squinting from the harsh light of the Fade outside the open windows. Dahlia groans softly as she shifts, the feeling of the silk bedding brushing against her skin as she slowly sits up, muscles all through her body feeling sore. Reaching for her glasses on the side table she places them on, blinking a few times as her vision clears. She frowns as she fails to spot Emmrich, before softly calling out to him below, hoping he is nearby.

“Emmrich?”

A scrape of a chair, a set of footsteps and the clinking of something making its way up the winding stairs.

“I’m coming, darling!”

Dahlia smiles softly as Emmrich comes to the top of the stairs, holding a tray of food and a pot of tea, still steaming. She watches him set the tray down, noticing the guilty look on his handsome face as he pours tea into a cup and gently hands it to her alongside a small plate of coconut macarons. Dahlia takes a moment to wet her dry throat, looking from the teacup to Emmrich, who slowly sits on the edge of the bed, hands in his lap. He doesn’t fully look her way, instead at the cup in her hand.

“Emmrich? What’s wrong?”

“I.. Oh, darling I’m terribly sorry for how I acted. I acted like some common brute more than a gentleman.”

He waves his hands around in worry as he tries to explain himself and his actions. All the while she slowly sips her tea, recalling the events with a blush on her cheeks. Looking at the Necromancer as he comes to the end of his ramble, he finally has the courage to look at her with shame in his eyes.

“I am truly sorry, Dahlia. I really should have-”

Dahlia sets the empty cup on the side table, reaching out to hook a finger under the chain that connects to his collar pin. She gently tugs on it to bring him forward and to also shut him up from rambling again. She wraps her arms around his neck, fingers running through the hairs at the nape.

“Emmrich, please stop before you pass out from worry. I’m fine.”

“But I acted like a foolish brute, Dahlia. I-”

“And what if…..I want that common brute again?” She mutters, feeling her cheeks becoming more heated as she looks away from him for a split second then to his eyes, laughing a little at his surprised reaction.

“You- You enjoyed it?” He timidly asks. He lets her pull him more onto the bed, caging her head between forearms, allowing her to pull him into a kiss.

“Very much so.”

Emmrich’s cheeks burn red at her words, a small chuckle bubble from his chest. He hides his face in her neck, kissing the skin gently before answering.

“Well… Maybe I could indulge once in a while, if that's agreeable?”

“Yes, please.”

#dragon age #rook x emmrich #emmrich the necromancer #da4 fanart #emmrich x rook #emmrich volkarin #emmrook #dragon age emmrich #dahlia ingellvar #dragon age veilguard #emmrook smut #smut comics #blue sky

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satorusugurugurl · 11 months ago

Note

i love everything you write like i wake up just to read them over and over again. could i request some more angst to smut please (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)

JJK Men: Going from angsty to smutty!

Characters: Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, AFAB!Reader

Warnings: fighting, yelling, curing, smut, unprotected smut, creampies, dirty talk, making up, mentions of blood and death (Suguru’s) spitting daddy!kink, oral sex, male receiving

Word Count: 8,140 (oops)

A/N: HI Nonnie thank you for the request!! I'm so glad you're enjoying my stuff!! I had a lot of fun with these! I hope you enjoy! Love u! 💚💚💚

Nanami Kento:

Nanami Kento was leaving you again.

He left you once after you graduated high school, giving up the Jujutsu world for his salary job. That nearly destroyed you. You begged him to stay, but once he made up his mind, there was no changing it. So he left and was gone for four years. Until one day, he called Gojo, telling him he wanted back in.

Of course, you were happy to see him back, but you were hesitant to get close to him again. But fate had other plans for you. Everywhere you went, he was always there. Whether you were getting drinks at the vending machines, in the break room, walking around school, or grabbing drinks with your coworkers and friends afterward. He'd always give you a sweet smile and motion to a spot next to him, to which you would refuse until you drunkenly made the mistake of stumbling over to him one night.

He looked so handsome, his hair pushed back, tie discarded, and top buttons undone on his dress shirt. Watching him chug down his beer with a slight flush dusting his cheeks made you feel stupid emotions like longing, lust, happiness, and hopefulness. Maybe if you were to open the door to a relationship with him, it would work out. Both of you have matured so much over the years. Maybe if you gave it another shot, it would work this time.

The night you threw your arms around him after downing a ton of shots to give you the liquid courage even to approach him, he was kind enough to make sure he drank water, took you, and told you you would discuss it in the morning when you woke up the next day with the pounding headache, Nanami was there with aspirin and a water bottle. Even without the alcohol, you were able to tell him that you missed him; you missed the two of you together.

And Nanami felt the same.

That morning led to make-up sex and the beginning of your relationship for a second time—one stronger than the first, built on truth and trust. You never kept anything from each other, always being honest about how you felt and what you wanted in the future. Life had been great until he took you to dinner one late fall evening.

“I’m leaving for Malaysia in a month.” His words felt like he’d stuck red hot needles into your lungs, making breathing hard as your fork fell out of your hand, clanking against your plate. “I bought a property on the beach and will build a house there.”

“Y-You—you’re leaving?”

“Yes, I finally have enough money saved up that I can leave this place, not have to work, and spend the rest of my days reading the books I haven’t gotten a chance to— .”

Your timid voice interrupted him. “You’re leaving me?”

“Darling, it’s not—”

You grabbed your phone, fighting against the burning sting in your eyes. “No, it is.” You were not going to cry, not in front of him. “You’re leaving me again, Kento.” You shook your head, running your hand down your face with a pained laugh. “Oh my god, I’m such an idiot.” Without another word, you stormed out of the lounge room, your heart breaking with every step you took.

It felt like the walls around you were closing in on you. Your chest felt tight as you took deep, ragged breaths, trying to calm yourself down, as tears finally breached the wall you had put up around yourself. The instant those tears ran down your cheeks, your momentum faltered, the stride you had crashing down. You fell to your knees, gripping at your chest as the future you pictured with Nanami slipped away like a film strip burning after too much use.

He always thought about leaving, building a house on the beach somewhere. It was never about the two of you leaving together. Never ‘we’re’ going to build a house. ‘We’re’ going to live in Malaysia. It was always him. And you thought since you both matured, things would be different; maybe since you were sleeping together and you were supposedly in love, he would take you with him next time. Of course, that was a moronic and naïve thought.

You were losing him all over again.

When you finally came to your senses, you hurried back to your apartment. You tried making dinner, watching a movie, doing anything to distract yourself from the pain that had settled in your heart. But anytime a second passed when you weren't busy, moving, or thinking, Nanami’s words whispered in the depths of your mind.

How could he just up and leave you like this again?! It hurt so bad; it was almost soul-crushing. After all the plans you had made, like getting married when you retired, and the places you'd see. All those plans were suddenly garbage because he could finally live out his dreams. Dreams that you should be happy about! You didn’t want your boyfriend to continue to suffer in a job he disliked, constantly working overtime, wasting his life away.

What hurt the most was that he didn't even ask if you wanted to come with him!

The hurt slowly turned into rage, so hot and heavy that you didn't hear the door to the apartment creak open. Nor did you hear said boyfriend's keys dropping into the bowl on the entry table. You did, however, feel his hand gently grabbing your shoulders. To which you pulled away.

“Don't fucking touch me!” You barked out, whirling around, jabbing your finger into his chest. “I don't fucking want you touching me!”

Nanami winced at the pain in your voice, hurrying after you as you stormed towards the bedroom. “Love, please stop.” Nothing was said as you threw the covers back on your bed. “Please let me talk to you. Let's have an actual conversation like adults instead of children!” Frustration and anger were evident in his voice, emotions that only seemed to fan the flames of your anger.

“Are you insinuating that I—” you pointed to yourself, “am acting like a child?”

“When you refuse to speak to me, yes.” you laugh. It's cold and void of joy as you place your hands on your hips.

“You wanna talk?! Fine, let’s fuckin’ talk!” You toss the throw pillows to the ground with an anger that could fuel a bonfire. “I cannot believe you’re leaving me again!”

Nanami’s honey-brown eyes followed each pillow that slammed into the ground with a force that made him cringe. “Who said I was leaving you?” He cocked a brow in your direction as you crawled into bed, fluffing your pillows.

“You said ‘you’ were leaving for Malaysia, that ‘you’ we’re going to build ‘your’ house on the beach. So excuse me, you made it very clear that you are leaving.”

“I am—” You open your mouth to tell him you were right that you knew that already, but he held a hand up in front of him, ceasing your interjection. “But I want you to come with me.”

“Oh, please don’t treat me like I’m some item you forgot to pack! You told me it was your house, books, everything!”

Without so much as a word, your boyfriend stalked over to the bed, reaching into the suit jacket. You watched with rage-filled eyes as he handed you an envelope. Nanami didn’t say where you snatched the envelope out of his hands. Opening it up, you found two one-way tickets to Malaysia. One had your boyfriend‘s name on it, while the other had yours.

You found yourself staring at the tickets as if you stared long enough; you would somehow get the answers to the questions running through your head. It isn’t until the bed dips under Nanami’s weight that you finally look up at him. His eyes held no malice or anger; they drifted from the envelope before slowly meeting your confused gaze.

“I could have started the conversation out better. But you ran off before I could finish.” He took your hand in his, thumb gently stroking the side of your thumb. “Yes, I bought a property out in Malaysia. I plan on building a house on the beach, filling it with all the books I haven’t read.” He squeezed your hand. “But that house will never be a home without you in it. I want you to come with me; I promise I will take such good care of you.”

“Y-You want me to come with you?”

“Of course I do; I left you once, and that almost ruined us completely. Do you honestly think I would ever put us at risk like that again?” Big tears welled over your eyes, streaming down your cheeks. “I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you; please come with me.”

Nanami’s thumb gently brushed your tears away. His smile was gentle and warm, and you hiccuped, nodding your head in agreement. “Y-Yes, Kento, I would love to go with you!” He grinned, excitement in every part of his features, as he pulled you and kissed you deeply.

It was the kind of kiss that lasted a lifetime, conveying how sorry you were for the misunderstanding. A kiss that had started very soft and sweet before it turned into something more desperate and hungry. A kiss that had you shoving your boyfriend back against the bed.

“What are you doing?” Nanami asked with curious eyes as you unbuckled his belt.

“Shh, relax.”

Nanami had been confused at first, but all his questions were answered several minutes later as you bobbed up and down his thick girthy cock. His hand fisted your hair as he watched as tears pricked your eyes as you struggled to take more of him into your mouth. Each time you went down, he felt his tip hit the back of your throat, which in turn made you gag, coating his cock in more of a slick combination of your saliva and his pre-cum.

You were so beautiful, stunning, sucking his cock down eagerly. You gag, eyes flooding with tears as he looks down at you, grunting as his eyes shut. His hand gently strokes your hair, collecting it in a makeshift ponytail. You hummed happily, looking into his narrow eyes before he shoved you down until your nose brushed over his trimmed pubes.

“Look at my lover~ such a good girl making me feel good.” He shivers as you moan around him. “Fuck darling, yes~ just like that~ swallow my cock like a good girl.” He sighs out, his hips gently bucking up into your mouth. “Soo good~ all because I’m taking her to Malaysia where she won’t have to worry about working again.” There was something in his words that had you shuddering as you dipped your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit through your shorts. “Ooh? Do you like the idea of me taking care of you? Spoiling you rotten for all time?” The only response Nanami gets in return from you is the way you eagerly swirl your tongue around his cock. “Ahh, atta girl~ using her tongue to tell me.”

You planned to show him how much you appreciated him in many more ways. For now, this would do. Nanami held a firm grip on your hair as you bobbed faster, your hands reaching down, cupping his balls, squeezing them tight. Your sweet, considerate moans had him groaning into his hand, head falling back as you deep throat him. Making sure he knew how much you loved him, how much you appreciated him spoiling you and making sure neither of you had to deal with the mundane lives of the working force.

“Haaah yes~ fuck suck it~”

His dirty words have you rubbing yourself harder as you do as he commands. “mhmm!”

“That’s it~ good girl fuck are you gonna swallow it? Swallow all of my seed down your throat?”

You take more of him down your throat than you do. “Nngh!” Nanami chuckles, wrapping his hand around your hair as if it were his tie, forcing you down before yanking you back up and pushing you down again.

“Good girl, be sure to swallow every drop, and I’ll reward you.”

He’s thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth face fucking you as hard as he possibly can. You do your best to relax your throat, but drool seeps out the corners of your mouth, running down your chin. As Nanami focuses his attention on the tears that prick your eyes, you struggle to take him down further. It’s the struggling, effort, and the way you’re gagging and moaning around his thick, hard cock that in him tumbling over the edge of sweet release.

“Nngh fuck~! Fuuuck yes, swallow, swallow every last drop of it, and don’t let it spill out.” Your boyfriend growls as he continues, holding your head in place as he continues fucking into your mouth. “Yes~! Yes fuck!”

His cum is thick and hot, slowly sliding down your throat as you stare up at him. Admiring the flush that dances over his cheeks up to the tip of his ears. His face is scrunched up with pleasure as the waves of pleasure roll through him, leaving you wet and ready. Your clit twitched under your finger pads as Nanami pulled you off of his cock. You waited for him to lift you by your hair, bringing you close to his face. What you hadn’t been anticipating was for him to shove you down against the floor while he did his tie, letting it hang loosely around his neck.

“K-Kento—ooh!” You yelp as he forces your legs apart with both his hands, spreading them wide for him. “Whoa! Holy shit!”

“I’m going to make up for upsetting you.” He whispered, grabbing your shorts, yanking them down your legs, and throwing them behind him. “By making you squirt on my tongue.”

As Nanami trailed kisses up your thighs, you shuddered against the cool wooden floor, imagining if this was the same way he’d spoiled you when you were in Malaysia; instead of being on the floor, he would be on the sand at the beach. Maybe some fights and misunderstandings were worth having. You screamed out as Nanami took your clit into his mouth, sucking on it gently. Fuck, some fights were totally worth having!!

Geto Suguru:

“Suguru—” you whisper as your boyfriend grabs his bags, not stopping to look over his shoulder at you. “Do you have to take this mission?”

The dark-haired man taps his thumb against the center of his forehead. “Yes, everyone else is on their missions. I have to do this.” He slips on his shoes, and you can’t help but feel another part of him slip away with the action.

It has been a year since the Plasma Star Vessel, Amanai Riko, was killed and a year that your boyfriend has been suffering. He wouldn’t admit it, but you could see how he changed. He had lost weight, dark circles permanently resided under his eyes, and he had grown distant from you and your friends. Everyone had been worried, asking if he was okay, but he blamed it on the heat in the missions he was constantly sent on.

But you knew he wasn’t. He hadn’t been okay since Riko died. If he would talk to you and stop pushing you away, you might be able to help him.

“I could go with you.” You suggested, slipping on your sandals and following him out the door of the dorms. “My curse technique could be helpful.”

“It can, but this is a simple mission out in the countryside. You know the curses out there are weaker than those in the city. I’ll be back in no time, I promise.”

You want to scream and shout at him to beg him to talk to you. “I could help—”

“I just said it’s a quick miss—”

“I’m not talking about the mission, Suguru.” he stops, looking back at you from over his shoulder. “I can help you with whatever you’re going through. If you stop and talk to me, I’ll listen to you vent, scream, and curse the world. But I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on, Sugu.”

Cicadas buzz in the distance as your boyfriend stares at you with no words leaving his mouth. At this point, you’re fuming with anxiety, frustration, and anger over the silent treatment and him pushing you away. How would you help your boyfriend if you refused to talk to you? He didn’t want to talk to you or anyone else. If he didn't talk about it soon, the pain he had been bottling down for the last year was going to burst sooner or later.

You had hoped that your words might act as a voice of reason and that maybe speaking the truth would finally break him out of the stupor he found himself in. Your hopes didn’t have a chance to kindle, however, because all he did was sigh, turning his back on you with a shake of his head. That casual brushing off made your worry melt into rage. You stormed down the stairs, rushing after him to stand in his way, arm stretched out in front of you, preventing him from moving further.

“Talk to me!”

“I don’t want to!”

“Why the fuck not?!”

“Because you weren’t there! You don’t know what we went through. You wouldn't understand; you're just some girl I date. You have no clue how hard it was being one of the strongest.”

His words hurt, knocking you back a step. “What—?” Suguru shoved past you, storming down the steps. “What the fuck is your problem?!” Screamed, tears rolling down your cheeks. “I’m not just some girl! I'm your girlfriend! I am not someone you can talk to like that you can’t—”

“I don’t want to talk to you!” darkness flooded his eyes as he snapped his attention towards you. “Do you fucking understand me?” You were too stunned to speak. “Fucking drop it before I drop you.”

“Maybe I should be the one to break up with you then. If you don’t wanna talk to me, then I don’t see a reason for us continuing this relationship.”

Blurred your eyes as you looked over your shoulder, watching your boyfriend freeze his back and turn to you for a second. Instead of turning around to talk to you, he kept heading down the steps towards the car waiting for him. That was all the answer you needed from him. When he returns from his mission, you will give him all his stuff back since your relationship is over.

You had so much planned on what you wanted to say to him when you handed him all his shit when he got back to the school. You refused to keep fighting for a relationship that was as good as dead. Suguru needed to work through his issues, and maybe once he was feeling more like himself, you might consider talking to him, let alone working.

Those words and thoughts were titanium. Your resolve was set in stone, and you wouldn’t let him convince you that he was fine otherwise. He needed to heal to talk to someone. It broke your heart, but you weren’t the person he needed.

Saying all that, keeping true to your word was much easier said than done.

The resolve you claimed was stronger than titanium snapped like a twig when a call at two in the morning had you jumping out of bed. Suguru’s name flashed on your screen, and you forgot about the fight and the drama, answering your cell as fast as your hands would allow.

“Suguru?” You yelled, jumping to your feet. “Are you okay?”

The other line was silent before your boyfriend sighed. “I wanna talk.” You were slipping your shoes, nodding your head as he could see. “But I’m going to send you an address. Meet me there. Just don’t tell anyone where you’re going.” The fact he didn’t want anyone else coming with you didn’t bother you.

You stepped inside the hotel room Sugurh had messaged you about, and as you did, the scent of blood and smoke flooded your senses, making you question his reason for you coming alone. Glancing around the dark room, you found him crouching beside a bed where two little girls lay. They were bruised and bandaged up, holding each other’s hands as they peacefully slept. Your boyfriend watched them silently, his shirt splattered with the blood that still lingered on him before his eyes finally looked towards you.

“Suguru—what happened?”

“I’m going to remake the world.”

“Huh?” You step further inside the hotel room, approaching him cautiously. “What do you mean?”

“I’m going to kill the non-sorcerer and remake this world into a better one.”

You laughed softly, thinking that maybe he was just fucking with you. But the way his eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched, you knew otherwise. Your boyfriend was serious, deadly serious. It didn’t make any sense. This was your boyfriend, who saw it as Jujutsu Sorcerer's duty to protect non-sorcerers. This new ideal had to be one of the reasons he had been so standoffish with everyone.

Instead of scolding or yelling at him, you sat down on the bed adjacent to the young girls, observing your bloodstained boyfriend. He had done the one thing you asked him to do, and that was for him to talk to you. You gently padded the spot on the bed next to him with a gentle smile.

Suguru opened up to you about everything. Riko’s death, the clapping from the religious group members he was constantly hearing, and the discussion he had with Tsukumo Yuki. For the first time in months, you felt like you were finally listening to your boyfriend talk. Part of you felt relieved, but something else began to take a route in your stomach as he told you about Nanako and Mimiko. He had slaughtered an entire village, an action he stood by and one he did not regret.

“I’ll be banned from Jujutsu Society and given a death sentence. But I don’t regret what I did.” Suguru’s eyes were glued to the floor, hands in his lap. “But you deserve to know what I did. What I plan on doing, I will remake this world, ridding it of non-sorcerer, those useless damn monkeys.”

He wasn’t sure how you would react. He expected you to shout, yell, and look at him in utter disgust. Yet what you did left him stunned as you reached across his lap and took his hand in yours. Suguru watched as your clean fingers intertwined with his, giving it a gentle squeeze, trying draw his attention towards you.

“We’ll remake the world.” His eyes went wide as he sat up back stiff as a board as the light returned to his eyes. “I’m coming with you.”

“What? Why would you willingly say yes? I killed people. You understand that. I killed a lot of people, and I’m going to have to kill more.”

“I know.”

“Then why?”

“Because you have a point. I see the world you want to create, and I want to help you.” You turned your body to him, wiping dried blood on his cheek. “Because I love you.”

The icy wall that had formed between you both melted. Suguru grabbed you by the face, kissing you deeply. He snarled and growled into your mouth, pulling you to your feet and dragging you into the bathroom. His lips only left yours to remove your clothes. Start the shower and shut the door. Once he got his hands, mouth, his entire body pressed against yours, you didn’t stand.

Suguru had you pinned into the shower floor with your hands pinned above your head as he wrapped your legs around his waist. His hips furiously bucked into yours as his lips smashed and moved against your own, his teeth nipping and sucking at your lips, pulling it back before releasing it, drawing blood. He needed you with a deep, crazed passion. His cocks slammed in and out of your pussy. The lack of prep on both your parts had your walls stinging with each hard thrust into you.

“Haah! Fuck! Oooh fuck!!”

“You’re mine~! You’re fucking mine, and we could’ve remake this fucking world. You could stay by my side. You’re never gonna fucking leave me.”

His teeth finally gave up their ass assault on your lips, moving to attack your neck instead. “Nngh! Fuck! Suguru!” He growled, his ass clenching with each deep thrust into you, the curve of his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly, guttural moans from you.

“Fuuck, that’s right. Say my name. I missed hearing you say my name.”

“Suguru.”

“Yes—fuck what does my princess need?”

“W-Wanna touch you! Please, Sugu!”

You didn’t even need to beg; Suguru let go of your wrists, allowing you to wrap your arms around him, digging your nails into his back, scratching down his toned muscles. Your boyfriend hissed at the sting pain, but he returned the favor, digging his finger into your hips, grabbing you roughly fucking into you with the same momentum, making sure not only you would have bruises on your skin, but your poor pussy would be bruised as well. He wasn’t just leaving his mark on the world but also his pretty princess.

His dark, wet, damp hair fell over his shoulder as he slammed into you with one hand, reaching up to cut the back of your head, cradling it gently as he slammed into you with all of his strength. He was making up for the months that you hadn’t been intimate. He was ensuring that you knew how excited he was to have you on his side and to have you see the world as he saw it.

He fucking loved you.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I’m gonna cum; I’m gonna cum inside your pussy.” His into your ear, feeling the way you clamp down around him, his vulgar words. “Yeah, does my princess like that?”

“Yes!”

“The beg for it, beg me to cum in that tight little cunt.”

Your nails dug harder into his skin as you felt his cock twitching inside of you. “Please, please cum inside of me, Suguru! I need it! I want it so fucking bad!” His thrusting, the words he said, and the way he kept rubbing the head of his cock against your spot have your leg shaking body arching off the shower floor. “Oo-ooh! Fuck! I’m cumming! Cumming!!” You screamed as your walls convulsed around his cock, drawing out a deep moan from Suguru.

“Take it! Take it, baby~! Fuuuck~! Yes, cum on my cock~ cum for me, princess cum!”

The warmth of his cum filling you grinned as you happily peppered his neck with kisses. God, you missed this; you missed him. Once his thrust came to a stop, you hummed, kissing down his neck yourself. He smiled, chuckling weakly against your soft skin.

“Fuck,”

“Yeah, fuck.” You purred, holding him tight as his cock twitched inside of you. “I needed that so bad.”

As you both lay on the shower floor, Suguru held you tight. You rubbed your hands up and down his biceps, fingers trailing over his chest. As he watched your hands slowly move over his body, he realized how lucky he was to have you. You were throwing away your comfortable, stable life for him, leaving the world you knew behind to become a curse user who would help him obtain his goals. You were too good for him.

“God,” he whispered, pulling you up to his mouth, pressing his lips against yours in a heated kiss. “I can’t wait to rule the world with you.”

Gojo Satoru:

You loved your boyfriend. Gojo was an amazing partner and friend. But dating the strongest sorcerer of the modern age came with its downside. Satoru was consistently being the mission he was consistently sent on. You were supportive and always willing to wait for him. You stayed up late to talk to him when he was in different time zones. You made him his favorite meal when he got home.

You even understood when he would come home that he was tired and just wanted time to himself, like sleeping or snuggling you in the silence of his condo. You loved waiting at home for him, eager to help him relax and take some of the stress off of him whenever you could.

That was the usual routine until he started going out with his friends instead of you. He would often say he needed to go to a new cafe and get himself a sweet treat; it was like a reward to himself. Which you didn’t mind; in fact, you encouraged it! If Satoru wanted to go out, he could. You weren’t the type of girl to be all controlling or suspicious of his actions. At the end of the day, as long as he came home to you, you didn’t mind when he did. You were happy as long as he was getting the stress relief he needed.

And he needed that kind of stress relief with the higher-ups making him work as much as they were. It felt like every other weekend, he was getting sent on missions, which was strange because it was summertime. There shouldn’t have been as many curses since it was the slow season for you guys. You didn’t question it at all. Instead, you continued to offer to be there to support him if he needed you.

Until you caught him.

It was supposed to be a girl's night; you, Utahime, and Shoko went to the local bar to enjoy a few cocktails and vent about your day. When you walked in, you sat in your booth, sipping on your Sex on the Beach, while Shoko sighed, finishing her fifth shot of whiskey. Her eyes kept dying behind you before I glanced at the table, running her long-painted nail over the rim of the glass.

“So, where did they ship Satoru off to this time?” She asked, smiling as the waiter brought her another drink.

“Mhm,” you swallowed the drink in your mouth, “Ireland, something about some castle curse or something. I don’t know. It seems like there’s been a lot of activity, which is weird.”

“Ireland, huh?” Shoko sighed, taking another peak over your shoulder. “Bastard didn’t even bring back souvenir for me. You would think he would bring me back some Irish whiskey.”

“Well, he might; he should be back tomorrow night.” Your friends' reactions mirrored each other. It was a look that spoke volumes, one that had your stomach unsettled. “What? Why are you guys looking at each other like that?”

“Gojo is still in Ireland?”

“Yeah—?”

Shoko sucked down a breath rubbing at the back of her neck, before pulling out her cigarette box. “Well, don’t look now, but I think your boyfriend got back sooner than you thought.” She points behind you with her cigarette.

Turning your head, your eyes go wide, finding your boyfriend sitting in a booth with his closest friends. In Tokyo, and not in Ireland like he had told you an hour beforehand. You felt like the room was spinning, and it wasn’t because of the small amount of alcohol you had drank. No, it was because of the carefree look on his face as he smacked Geto on his back before downing his cola.

Your body moved before you could even think. Rushing forward, pushed past strangers, hurrying towards your boyfriend, who hadn’t even noticed you running towards him. His friends, however, did notice. Geto smiled as he waved at you, Nanami nodded his head in acknowledgment, and Haibara leaned his head back against the booth, turning his head just as you slammed your hands down on the table.

“Oh, hi! How are you doing tonight?” Haibara cheerfully greeted, sitting up straight, eyes sparkling. “I thought Gojo said you were out on a mission.”

Upon hearing his name brought into the conversation, your boyfriend turned his attention towards you before spurting out the cola he had been drinking, the liquid coming out his mouth, and he coughed harshly into his fist. You felt sick to your stomach, and your chest felt tight. Why would he lie about being home?

“Funny, he said the same thing about himself.”

“Sweetie, I uhm—“

“How was Ireland?” You questioned, tilting your head and crossing your arms over your chest.

Suguru cocked a pierced brow, his dark eyes darting towards his best friend, who looked like he was about ready to shit bricks. “Ireland? I thought you said that’s where she was at?” All eyes seem to focus on your white-haired boyfriend as the back of your throat burns with unshed tears.

“So I guess it’s at least good to know. I’m not the only one you’re lying to.” You rolled your eyes, storming out of the bar and snatching your purse from Shoko, who was watching. “Bye.”

“Sweetie! Honey, wait!”

“No! I have nothing to say to you right now that would be remotely good!” You yelled back at him, listening to his footsteps over the sticky bar floor. “So please leave me alone.”

“Baby!” His slender fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you back towards him. “Listen! I—fuck, I’m sorry!”

“Sorry for what you did, or sorry you got caught in a lie? One that you apparently had told several different people.”

There was nothing he glanced aside from instead of staring at the floor. “I’ve just been overwhelmed with work and didn’t want to come home.” The tone in his voice is almost comical.

“Okay? When have I ever had an issue with you going out? You could’ve just told me the truth instead of lying.”

“I just felt like I’ve been neglecting your needs, but I feel like I’m not in a position to be there for you in the way you need.”

For a second, your boyfriend thinks you might stop to give him the time to listen to what he has to say. Instead, you yank your arm out of his grip, letting it limply fall to your side. Gojo can see the pain in your eyes. Pain that he wanted to avoid putting on you, but instead, he’s pretty sure he had caused more pain.

“So you lied about being on a work trip?” He says nothing. “Good to know you feel that way.”

You start heading back out to get an Uber, but Satoru is right behind you. “Baby please, I just, I feel so tired all the time. I just need to unwind.” You turn back around, shooting daggers up at him.

“Fucking unwind! Do whatever you want! I don’t give a fuck!”

“Then why are you so upset?”

“Because you fucking lied to me!” You screamed, causing him to wince through his teeth. “You called me today and told me you were in Ireland! When you could have told me, ‘Hey babe, I’m going out with the guys,’ instead, you fucking lied to me!”

Satoru frowned, not knowing what to say in a situation like this. A problem that he had created himself. One that could’ve easily been avoided if he had told you the truth. So, instead of saying anything, he just dropped his head down in shame.

You fought against the urge to somehow break through his infinity and slap the shit out of him. But since that was impossible, he watched as you wiped the welling tears from your eyes with a shaky sigh. With a swallow and a deep breath, you turned away from him, heading to the car that pulled up to the curb for you.

“W-Wait, where are you going?!”

“Home.”

Without so much is another word, you got in the car, and your boyfriend watched as it drove off down the street. He had messed up royally this time. So much so he wouldn’t be surprised if you were to break up with him at this point. Gojo had been so stressed, and he didn’t want you going above and beyond to take care of him when you were just as stressed as he was. he saw how you acted. You made it a point to cook his favorite meals to buying him his favorite sweets, when you had the same dark circles under your eyes from your hard work being a sorcerer.

You seemed to enjoy helping him out like that. Like it was a highlight of your life. So, instead of sitting down and talking to you like a normal person, he decided to go out with his friends. Giving yourself time to hang out with your friends, read a book or catch up on some well-deserved rest. He should’ve just talked to you about this but didn’t want to hurt your feelings.

But in trying to protect your feelings, he had hurt you even more. He couldn’t just idly stand and let this be the end of the conversation. He needed to talk to you and tell you how sorry he was in person.

When you got home, you could smell Gojo in the apartment. You weren’t expecting to smell his cologne, seeing that you had left him twenty minutes prior at the bar, but the asshole was able to teleport himself wherever he wanted. So much is saying a word. You threw your purse on the entryway table before storming towards the bedroom, where, low and behold, he was waiting for you.

He sat on the edge of the bed, cerulean eyes snapping towards the door as you walked in. “Sweetie.” He hesitantly spoke, hurrying after you as you headed into the bathroom. “Look, can we talk?”

“About what? Your next mission: what are you going to China or something? Or is it just another excuse for you to hang out with your friends?”

You were pissed. This would be one of those moments you held over his head for all time. “Look, I fucked up, big time.” You laughed, glancing at him in the mirror as you took your shirt off. “Okay, majorly fucked up, I should’ve talked to you, but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” The cold, dark stare you gave him in the mirror told him that your feelings were already hurt, and his reasoning was stupid to bring up at this point. “Will you please just listen for a second? Let me apologize properly.”

While the idea of fumigating in your anger was tempting, you knew if you didn’t give him the opportunity to, he wouldn’t get off your ass for the rest of the night. Shaking your head, you turned to face him as you leaned against the glass door of the walk-in shower. A certain relief settled inside Gojo’s chest as he stepped closer towards you.

“I’m sorry for lying. I should’ve been honest with you. But you always get so excited taking care of me when I get home that I didn’t wanna hurt your feelings.” The pinch of your brows softened as he spoke. “You spoil me fucking rotten. I honestly don’t deserve someone as good as you. I’m an egotistical, arrogant, pompous asshole, and you were too good for me. Even though I can see how tired you are, you always make an appointment to put me first.”

“Toru—”

“So I decided to take a step back and relieve some of my stress by hanging out with the guys. Lately, you’ve been so rundown. So I’ve told you I was going to Ireland so you could have a night to yourself. You have to worry about dinner or taking care of or making me feel good when you should be taking care of yourself as well as you take care of me. Fuck I should be taking care of you. But I’m just so fucking tired. I don’t have the energy to do that, and unfortunately, I’ve neglected you and your needs.”

“No—Toru, I see where you’re coming from, and it’s alright.”

“No, it’s not alright. Nothing about this is alright. I should’ve talked to you instead of lying to you, and I fucked up.” He hesitantly reached out, grabbing your hand and squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry I lied. I should’ve told you the truth.”

You were still angry over him lying to you. he could’ve been more of an adult and told you what he felt. But simultaneously, you could see where he was coming from. You had been putting a lot of effort into taking care of him and thus neglecting your own needs. He was right; you were as tired as he was. Not only did you have your own missions to go on, but on top of taking care of the condo and trying to make him feel comfortable, you hadn’t put time away for yourself. In his reasoning, he was trying to take care of you like you had taken care of him.

You allowed him to take your hand, squeezing his fingers back. “I swear to God if you lie to me like this ever again, and I catch you at the bar with your friends when you’re supposed to be in Ireland, I will kick your ass all the way there myself, Gojo Satoru.” he wins at the use of his full name, but your boyfriend pulls your hand tugging you into his chest.

“Noted, I promise I won’t ever do that shit again. I’m really sorry, baby.”

“It’s fine. We both got overwhelmed and instead of communicating, we just ignored it. Next time, I think we can do better as a couple. That way, this sort of shit doesn’t happen again.”

Gojo nods before he presses his chin against the top of your head, wrapping his long, lanky arms around you. “Right, I can do that.” You into his chest, sighing happily. “Is it too late to start communicating our feelings now?” You giggle, you’re almost bare chest rumbling against him.

“Depends on what exactly you want to talk about.”

Gojo pulls his chin off your head before grabbing your face in his hand. He lifts your head, forcing you to look at his beautiful, stunning eyes. “I don’t really wanna talk. I want to feel. I want to make you feel good. If you’re not too angry with me.” You slowly run your hands up his chest, smiling lovingly at him.

“I can’t say no to you.”

One steamy make-out session later ended with you both pressing each other against the walls in the bathroom; Gojo had you pressed against a wall, wrapping you up in his arms and holding you in his chest. "I missed you so much, sweetheart. So fucking much." The hot, steamy water from the running shower made the bathroom hot. He kissed you gently.

“I missed you too, Toru.” You whispered against his lips with a giggle as you brushed some of his hair out of his eyes.

His hand moved up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing your soft skin. "Can I kiss you again?" Instead of answering his question, you close the distance between your lips, kissing him deeply, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pulling him closer. Satoru grunted, leaning forward and slamming his hands against the glass door to the shower. “Fuuck missed you, baby.” He slowly pressed his lips to yours, holding his breath momentarily as he just kissed you like there was no tomorrow.

“Mhmm Satoru~”

He pulled away after a moment, his hands still holding your face. "God— Fuck, I missed hearing you sent my name like that." He held you tight, pressing your head to his chest as he slowly dried his fingers down your back.

“I’ve missed saying it,” you pressed gentle kisses up his chest, flicking your tongue over his nipple. “But I missed moaning it more.”

"Oh, you have?" He felt his heart and cock flutter at that, smiling softly.

“Ooh yeah, I’ve missed your cock.”

Gojo cocked an eyebrow with a smirk. "Well, I guess we have something. We have to do something about that then?~" He pulled you tighter against his body, his hardening cock rubbing against your bare hip. "I missed that amazing pussy, too~."

You whined, looking up at him. "I want you now, Toru." You whispered as you wrapped your hand around his cock, gently stroking him with a twisting motion.

“Oooh fuck baby.” His eyes slowly shut, his cock immediately completely hard. "Yeah does my sweet little girl need her Daddy’s cock?" He groaned softly, still holding you close against his bare ivory skin.

“Yeah~ I need it fuckin’ bad.”

Satoru bit his lip, his cock twitching in your hand. "Fucking okay, sweetie, I’ll give it to you.” He groaned, lifting you, pressing you against the glass wall of the shower. "God, I can't fucking resist you."

"Ah~!" You gasped out, your eyes glossy with need. "Fuck, please." You’d had sex against walls before, but this was needier, and fuck, it made you wet. "Fuck me, Toru~ fuck me until I squirt on your fat cock."

Just hearing you say those things made him shiver, leaning into you, kissing you deeply. "Of course, sweets~" He groaned as he held his hand up to you. “Spit.” You followed his instructions, spitting into his hand. He moaned as he rubbed it on his cock in place of lube. Once his cock was slick, he held you up by your waist and slowly lowered her down onto his aching length.

"Fuck!" You cried out, your eyes rolling back. "Oh god, y-you're so fucking big." Your whimpers grew louder as he stretched you out with his thick cock. "Fuck me, Toru!"

“Ahh fuck—“ Satoru let out a small growl, his left arm holding your waist and his right hand moving up to toy with your clit. "That’s right, sweetie, moan for me. Let’s get another fucking noise complaint from our neighbors ~" He pistoned his hips He pistoned his hips into you, thrusting fast and hard, chasing his already-building orgasm.

He glanced up, watching your eyes roll back, your hands gripping his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin. Loud sounds escaped your mouth as you looked into his eyes, dilated with pure animalistic need. He leaned in, kissing you deeply, swallowing your moans he fucked into you.

"Fuck, you're so damn pretty, Sweetheart~" He groaned, wet slapping sounds reverberating off the walls with every thrust. " O-Oh god, I'm—not going to last long. I've been so pent up!”

You weren’t in much of a better position than him feeling him, slamming into his curved cock, hitting every special spot inside of you. At the same time, his right hand played with your clit and had you on the edge so ridiculously fast you’re pretty sure he was about to world record. Satoru watched as your eyebrows knitted together as you stared into his eyes. There was a desperation in your beautiful eyes as you cried out his name, telling him you were close.

“G-Gonna cum Toru~! Gonna cum!”

At least you were able to form coherent words. Feeling your walls flutter and hearing the sweet sound that left your lips made Satoru’s hips stutter, and he moved, slamming his lips to yours as he gripped your hips, shoving you down all the way on his cock as he groaned, releasing his cum into you. Feeling his warm seed fill you sent you right over the edge with him, making you tilt your head back as sweet moans of his name left your lips.

“Missed you.” That was the only thing your boyfriend said before pressing a kiss to your lips again. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Toru.”

“I’ll never lie to you again.”

“Thank you—Ah!” You squealed as he opened the shower door, stepping inside with you. “Toru!”

“So when I tell you we’re going eight rounds tonight, you better fuckin’ believe it’s happening.” Gojo would show you just how sorry he was for hurting you. Even if that meant you were hurting from all the sex you were about to have the next day.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree

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