sethell

[sethell]

Imagine this..

You're a messenger for the human kingdom. Many would hate to be in your shoes.. traveling under the cruel sun and having to adventure out to the kingdoms that the common folk tremble under..

Yet all you see is entirely different worlds.

The Elf Kingdom.. is one of the oldest civilizations. With their long lifespan and sharpened minds, they have seen through wars and disasters. When you arrive through the gates, they already have everything prepared. The best stablehands for your horse. The best room and refreshments for your stay in the kingdom. The Elf King and his advisors value your words and input. Which is a very hard thing to accomplish for an admittedly ignorant group.

The Orc Tribes.. may seem like a gruff group of barbarians, but they value strength in all forms. When they hear you riding in, they know you've survived another grueling testament of patience and endurance. A private tent is set up for you, and your horse is taken well cared of. They take your stay quite seriously. The best of their warriors guarding your tent. The Orc Tribes know all too well of enemies trying to trail behind you for a moment to strike.

The Dwarf Camps.. is another one of the oldest civilizations. Many kingdoms do not interact with them due to their isolated lives in the quarries and mountains. But they appreciate the struggle you go through to make it up the rocky cliffs. Your horse gets the best horse shoes ever possibly made. Dwarven steel. Your gear gets fixed up as you discuss trade with the council of members. The Dwarfs do not let you leave until they know you and your horse are in the best possible shape.

When representatives of each land come visit your kingdom? They always pay you the greater respect than your ruling monarch. It's you who's traveled across blazing suns and chilling storms to keep them informed.

So it will be you each land fights for a chance to marry one day.

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Donate for Palestine⤵️

""Hello my dear ❤️

My name is Abdullah, and I’m from northern Gaza. I’m a father of four children, and my wife is seven months pregnant.

Before the war, I had a beautiful home and a stable job in software engineering. But everything changed — I lost my job, my house, and now I am left with nothing and no source of income.

I’ve launched a fundraising campaign in hopes of securing the basic necessities for my family.

I lost my daughter during this war, and now I’m doing everything I can to protect my remaining children.

Please, I’m not asking for much — just enough to provide food, shelter, and safety for my kids. 🙏

No matter how small your donation may be, it will make a huge difference in our lives.

You can help Abdullah and his family. @abdallahgaza75

Please, help us survive 🥹💔

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters my number verified on the list is ( #641 )✅️""

[sethell]

DAVID CORENSWET Adventures in the Making of Superman (2025)

[sethell]

IMAX????

[sethell]

Dark Heir

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝙴𝚕𝚏 𝚡 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙰𝚍𝚘𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚈/𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚝. 𝙻𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚖𝚘𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚜, 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚢, 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚑: 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚎𝚍, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗.

Gathering herbs deep in the forest, Y/n heard a child crying, her thoughts involuntarily turning to her own. But she knew her child slept soundly in its cradle after its activity.

The girl hurried towards the sound, sunlight filtering through the leaves, trying to light the young mother's path. Y/n thought that one of the village girls might have abandoned the child; it was an unwanted pregnancy. This was a common practice: when a girl became pregnant but no one would marry her, the child was left in the forest to preserve the family's reputation. Y/n herself had once been ordered to do the same. Her parents were furious, shouting and beating her. But the girl refused, and they took her to the forest, where a small house stood. Her parents didn't want to shame the entire family, so they left her there. In the end, her parents wanted to know the father's name, but by the grace of heaven, it was the king's knight. They were passing through their lands and decided to stay in the village. Y/n vaguely remembered the man's face, but he had whispered so seductively, promised love so tenderly, that the girl surrendered and lay on his bed. Soon after, the detachment left. That year, many innocent girls "suffered" at the hands of seductive knights, and many were shamefully cast out. Y/n was no exception. The infant's cry grew louder, and the girl ran out into a clearing where a bundle lay. She hurried to it, and when she pulled back a corner of the blanket, she recoiled in fear. It was a dark elf child. Y/n looked around, listening to the forest sounds, but realized the child's parents were not there. The infant's head had darkened from crying, and the girl understood it was hungry. Y/n couldn't abandon the child, so she unlaced her bodice and gently brought the baby to her right breast. The child finally quieted, having received nourishment. But Y/n still scanned her surroundings, ready to place the child back and flee if she saw anyone of its kind.

Y/n realized the infant's parents were absent, unsure if the child was abandoned or if something had happened to them. But Y/n made a decision that would change her fate forever! She took the child and returned home.

Several days passed, and now two babies lay nestled together in a spacious crib, having bonded with each other. Y/n cooed over them, continuing to leave them alone at home after tending to them, and went to the forest to gather herbs. It was a hot summer, but autumn was approaching, and supplies were needed, especially medicinal herbs. In the evenings, from time to time, she also went into the forest with a bow on her shoulder to hunt rabbits, and if lucky, a larger animal. The girl wouldn't have had to hunt; if she hadn't been driven from home, her father would have done it, and then her husband. But fate decreed otherwise, and using the skills she observed in the settlement, she independently crafted a bow and arrows and trained herself. Y/n was quite good at it, considering the game she brought home. And she herself didn't need much. Just something to put in her mouth to avoid starving and to stay healthy for the children.

The worst began after the past week. Moon Day started with the dark elf's loud crying. Y/n realized the infant was ill. She gave him various tinctures; the raspberry tincture didn't help the fever, and the baby cried more, seeming to burn. Linden was needed, but it had run out, so the girl quickly gave a chamomile tincture, which helped the child calm down. Taking her basket, she ran to the other end of the forest. She probably fell a few times on the way, but nothing could stop her. She gathered a whole basket of linden flowers and, just as quickly, wanted to get home. As she approached the cottage, she saw the open door, and fear pierced her entire body. Somewhere, she tried to calm herself, telling herself it was likely her parents, who rarely visited, but her gut told her it wasn't her parents. Quietly and slowly, she approached the door and peeked inside. All was silent. No one. Only the cooing of her baby. She rushed to the cradle and saw only her child. But where was the second? She swallowed loudly, carefully turning towards the door. The girl understood that she now needed to go out and survey the area.

Y/N wanted to grab a bow for protection, but to her horror, realized it was broken. Now, unarmed, she went outside. She stopped, trying to listen to the sounds, but the gusts of wind rustling the treetops made it difficult.

She understood that a dark elf had come here and taken his child, but had he left? Perhaps he would realize she hadn't done him any harm, only protected the child?

She looked around, spinning, and at the last moment noticed a man who had unexpectedly appeared among the trees. His dark skin and bright eyes frightened Y/N, causing her to involuntarily yelp. The man held a baby in his arms, who calmly rested his head against his father's chest, looking peaceful.

"I… I… I didn't hurt him…" Y/N decided to start her defense.

The elf smiled slyly, and then… disappeared. Y/N merely blinked, and the man was gone.

The following days passed peacefully, the only change being that Y/N began to notice baskets with various fruits and vegetables, and sometimes fish or game, on her doorstep.

She knew this wouldn't go unacknowledged; she would be obligated to give something in return. And on the other hand, she had cared for his child… And Y/N accepted the gifts, enjoying the peace.

The next morning, the woman noticed how the nature around her trembled nervously. Strong gusts of wind reached her cottage, leaden clouds hung over the forest, thunder rumbled in the distance, and lightning even flashed.

Y/N closed the window shutters, pressing them tightly against the frame, and securing them with a latch. She moved the cradle further from the window, deeper into the house.

While the woman was busy preparing food and caring for the child, evening had already arrived, and there was a loud knock at the door. She heard a couple of male voices and Y/N thought of her family, who had decided to pay her a visit. She hurried to open the door to let her soaked family into the house. But to her horror, the ones at the door were two men, one a burly fellow with an eyepatch, and the other thin with an overbite.

"What do you need?" the woman asked, slightly closing the door. "Oh, darling, are you alone?" the big man replied. "What's it to you? I asked a question," Y/n frowned as the man placed his hand on the door, pushing it slightly. "We got lost in the woods and stumbled upon this cabin. Let us in, we're soaked," his voice was deep but grating. "I can't," Y/n relaxed a little.

The man didn't like the answer and shoved the door with all his might. Y/n unexpectedly fell to the floor. The men brazenly entered the house, looking around. They smelled unpleasantly of alcohol, sweat, and tobacco. Most likely, they were bandits or hunters. But their arrival made the woman nervous. She stood up, awaiting further actions.

"Oh, look, Bon, we were expected," the big man brazenly sat at the table where a bowl of stew was. "I told you there'd be something to get here," the lanky guy finally spoke, he was thin, almost squeaking. He also brazenly started rummaging through the cupboards, collecting all the supplies. "What are you doing!? Get out of my house!" Y/n screamed hysterically, and a second later dodged a sharp knife that Bon threw. "Shut your mouth, whore! Boss, should we kill her!?" the man squeaked similarly. "Come on, what are you waiting for? She'll warm our bed," the Boss chuckled, a few pieces of meat falling from his mouth.

The door was open, a downpour raging behind it, forming deep puddles. Y/n couldn't escape because of her baby, who began to stir, disliking the loud voices and the cold, so he started whimpering. The men noticed him. The lanky guy approached the cradle inside the house, and Y/n's heart clenched and filled with fear.

"Yeah, she's mommy!" Bon exclaimed, and yanked the baby out by the leg, the child dangling, crying louder. "Please! Put him back! You're hurting him!" Y/n lunged at the man, but he pushed her away, and the girl fell to the floor again.

"She's so loud! Boss! Why do we need her!?" The sniveler unceremoniously tossed the baby into the crib, and Y/n's head began to throb. Her child was only a few months old, too fragile! "Hey! I don't care, you don't have to stick your junk in her. I'm going to stick it in her, I haven't had a woman in a year!" The boss, who had been eating meat the whole time, stood up, grabbed Y/n by the hair with his dirty hands, and dragged her across the floor.

To the sounds of the baby's crying, and her own, Y/n struggled, scratching her attacker's hands, but it was all useless.

"Ah, you slut! Well, nothing, I'll calm you down now! Why are you kicking, it's clearly not your first time! I'll give you another baby, for good measure! Did you hear that, Bon!?" The men laughed obscenely, the brute began to pull down his pants, but the belt wouldn't budge.

Y/n crawled towards the door. She somehow got up and ran outside. The woman ran a short distance and stopped halfway when she noticed a familiar figure among the trees. The rain continued to pour, she was getting wet and pathetic. She noticed her secret acquaintance holding a basket with something in it, he clearly wanted to visit her at such an hour.

"Where are you running!? Do you want me to kill your worm!?" roared the bandit, stepping outside, his pants already down, "I'll take care of this quickly! Or are you, such a dirty girl, that you decided to entertain me outside in the rain!?" he laughed obscenely again. "Please…" Y/n wanted to beg the dark elf, but a thick black shadow flashed past her.

This magic began to form into hands with claws, it headed towards the bandit, who fearfully tried to escape, but failed. These hands grabbed him, sinking their claws into his flesh, they moved to his neck, squeezing it, and then, amidst the sound of the rain, a snap was heard. The magic snapped his neck. As the force was about to retreat, a displeased companion appeared in the doorway, picking his nose.

"Boss, what were you doing…?" he froze.

The claws went into a new battle, grabbed the skinny man, suspended him above the ground, and then flung him with all their might towards the trees. The dark elf skillfully controlled this power, moving his hands through the air. And the claws obeyed him, finishing off the man. Y/n remained standing, looking only at him. The elf also continued to look. A moment passed, and it became dark in her eyes, and Y/n fell onto the wet ground, not caring about anything.

The girl woke up to birdsong. She opened her eyes slightly and realized she was in her room, her baby cooing beside her. She got up carefully, wearing a nightgown, and a blush of embarrassment spread across her cheeks, realizing the mysterious elf had changed her clothes. To her surprise, she noticed that besides her child, a dark elf's baby was also in the cradle, happily reaching out to her. The girl shook her head and quickly went outside. Not far away, under a tree, sat an elf, his eyes closed, humming softly.

"Thank you," the girl said quietly but clearly as she approached the stranger. "ɦ໐ຟ ໓໐ นู໐น ʄﻉﻉɭ?" a similarly quiet and deep voice asked. The girl faltered slightly. "Sorry, I don't understand... I think I hear familiar words, but I can't put them together," Y/n smiled awkwardly, and the elf nodded. "Y/n," the girl pointed to herself. The man did the same. "Elowen."

The elf fell silent again and closed his eyes. Y/n understood that he would stay, and she wouldn't mind.

[sethell]

N S F W!!! . .

.

.

.

p i c k a g a i n .

. +)

yoga instructor au

[sethell]

This is peak 3 am reading material. Oh, my precious parasite...

This was AMAZING. I’m reading every Venom line with the dumbest grin and little giggles. And omg I love the reader here because she’s so real. Like c’mon, if I could actually touch them?? I’d 100% be like this

“Born to ride”

Eddie Brock x Neighbor!Reader

Eddie’s Masterlist Join the tag list

Summary: Riding your hot neighbor until he cries has become your newest obsession.

WC: 4.8k

Warnings/Tags: smut, minors DNI, pwp, unprotected piv, dirty talk, edging, overstimulation, subish!eddie, female!reader, eddie and reader are fuckbuddies, set between first and second movie.

This is a one-shot, but you can read Laundry Mix-Up and Instructions for more of these two!

Eddie’s life had significantly improved. Yes, he was still stucked with low-paying freelancer gigs, which sucked if he compared it to the grandness he once had, he was still living in a run-down apartment, and he still had an alien parasite living inside his body. But now he was fucking you, for some magical and mysterious reason. You, his hot neighbor, the one that he didn’t even know how he managed to have landed. And if that wasn’t amazing enough, you seemed to be completely and utterly obsessed with him, never able to stop, no matter how many times he gave it to you, no matter how many times he made you cum, you always came back hungry for more.

It was like he’d walked into a dream and never woke up. Your touch, your mouth, your sounds… they haunted him in the best possible way. Even now, when his body was sore after a long night with you, he’d go back and do it all over again just to feel you one more time.

“Sometimes I think she’s the one with a parasite inside,” Venom said, his voice denoted how amusing he found this whole situation. “A sex parasite.”

Eddie huffed out a short laugh, still a little daze. “She’s… quite something, huh?”

“Oh, definitely,” Venom snorted. “Quite mentally deranged, too, for keeping on coming back to have sex with you.”

Eddie frowned his brows. “Hey! I’m not that bad.”

“You’re…decent,” Venom said dismissively. “If we don’t count the times you’ve cum in, like, two minutes.”

Eddie’s head snapped up, he blinked in confusion. “That was once! And it was a very stressful day.”

“She acts like you’re a god in the sheets. It’s confusing.”

“I'm trying my best, okay?” Eddie said, almost sounding like a little kid, trying to excuse himself.

“Try harder,” Venom shot back unapologetically. “Do push-ups. Drink water. Get flexible. She’s gonna break you.”

You straddled Eddie’s lap like you’ve done many nights before, your eyes were locked to his, your hips moving in slow circles, like you were savoring every second, just grinding against him without any hurry in the world, letting the tip of cock rub between your soaked folds. His hands gripped your hips like he was afraid you might vanish, his fingers were digging into your skin as you kept rocking your hips. Every shift of them dragged a groan straight out of his throat, it was as if your body was playing him like an instrument.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie rasped, already feeling breathless, even if you were the one moving, and he was the one sitting down. “You’re—fuck, you’re incredible.”

“‘Incredible’ doesn’t even cover it,” Venom chimed inside Eddie’s head, deeply impressed with your riding skills and your over the top stamina. “I’ve seen things, Eddie. I have knowledge across multiple universes. And I’ve never seen anything like her.”

Eddie’s hands traveled higher up your body, until they found the soft plumpness of your breasts, he gripped them eagerly, his big palms closing around your tits, kneading your flesh before his thumb and index finger pinched your nipple, making you jolt a little over him.

“Fuck, baby—please—” He was begging before you’d even started.

“Please what?” you teased, notching him at your entrance but not sinking down quite yet. “You wanna feel me inside you? Cumming around you? Wanna feel how tight I get when you hit that spot?”

“Jesus. yes—please, baby.”

“Wait,” you said teasing him a little more, just because he was so easy to poke fun at. “Beg a little more first.”

“I love when she gets sassy like this,” Venom practically purred in Eddie’s skull. “We’re her sluts, Eddie.”

Eddie had actually gotten better over the last few weeks—way better—at tuning Venom out during sex. It had taken practice, and several near-ruined orgasms from Venom’s running commentary, but now, when you were on top of him, moaning like an angel, Eddie could almost pretend he was alone in his head. He could almost just focus on you and only you.

His eyes fluttered shut for a second, and he whimpered like it physically hurt him to hold back.“Please,” he said hoarsely. “I need to be inside you. I need to feel you. Please, baby, I’ll do anything you want.”

Venom cackled in his head. “Pathetic. I love it. Stuff her. Now.”

You sank down all the way, gasping at the invasive stretch, even after weeks of taking him multiple times a day. He was so big, and so thick inside you, your walls clenched around him like you never wanted to let go. The burn, the stretch, it made your thighs quake and your stomach tighten, but you loved it, you welcomed every inch like he belonged there.

He groaned loudly, feeling completely helpless as you took every inch of him, burying his cock inside you to the hilt, over and over again.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you moaned, tossing your head back as you rocked your hips faster. “You’re so big. You fill me up so much I—I can feel you so deep.”

“THERE SHE GOES AGAIN,” Venom screeched in his head. “SHE’S COMPLIMENTING YOUR DICK… I CAN’T—I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS LIFE FOR US NOW, EDDIE.”

Eddie couldn’t believe this was his life now either. His eyes snapped shut as you bounced harder over him, his breath was hitching as he fought to hold back the flood threatening to spill into your cunt. Every time you complimented how big he was, or how good he felt, it was like getting electrocuted, and he loved it… he loved how you worshipped him with your words and your body at the same time.

His hands flew to your ass, gripping it tight, yanking you up and down his length, helping you ride him harder. His hips bucked up into you, trying to meet your pace. Everytime he pulled you up his cock, he could see gushes of slick sliding down his shaft, pooling at his base, coating his heavy balls, making each thrust echo loud and wet against the walls.

The room was hot, thick with the scent of sex and sweat, your hair stuck to your temples, your tits bounced with every desperate grind of your hips, and he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“You like that?” you gasped, clawing at his chest for balance, leaving the red marks of your nails on his skin. “Like watching me fuck myself on your cock?”

“Holy—Holy fuck, yes,” he groaned, his eyes rolling back in overwhelming pleasure, he’d never in his life felt so good.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS,” Venom shouted in Eddie’s skull, trying to be louder that the slap of skin on skin. “SHE’S GOING TO KILL US. OUR SPINE IS GOING TO SNAP IN HALF. IT’S DEATH BY PUSSY, EDDIEEEEE.”

“You’re so deep, baby—god, you-you’re perfect, so fucking thick, s-so big… I can’t stop,” you moaned, grinding down harder, circling your hips as Eddie’s mouth fell open. Hearing you moan that, made Eddie’s brain malfunctioning. It was no secret, he was a pleaser, and by the way you were moaning and clenching around him? He knew he was doing a great job.

“F-Fuck, baby, don’t stop, don’t you fucking stop,” he pleaded, his dignity rested six feet underground, and he couldn’t care any less. “You feel so fucking good—shit, I’m not gonna last—”

His hands trembled on your hips, trying to hold you still, to slow you down for a second so he wouldn’t blow already, but you didn’t let him control your pace, you kept moving fast and deep, wanting to feel every inch, every twitch, every drop.

“NO, EDDIE,” Venom screeched. “NOT AGAIN. HOLD IT. THINK OF ANYTHING BUT HER BOUNCING ON YOUR DICK LIKE A GODDESS—OH SHIT WHY AM I EVEN DESCRIBING IT.”

You leaned in close, your mouth brushed his ear before you whispered. “You’re stretching me so much… I can feel you in my fucking stomach. Oh God, Eddie. You ruin me so good. Swear to god there’s no one like you.”

The way your voice broke on his name nearly undid him in that second, he could feel your slick walls flutter around him with every word. You grabbed Eddie’s hands firmly and pressed them against the flatness of your lower stomach, guiding his fingers over the thick outlines of his cock buried deep inside you, noticeable under your skin and muscle.

“We’re in her guts, Eddie,” Venom whispered with incredulity inside Eddie’s mind.

He let out a strangled moan, he kept one hand on your stomach, feeling his dick pushing in and out of you, his other hand on your waist, thrusting up into you as you slammed down again, over and over, loud and slick and filthy.

“I can feel you right here,” you gasped. “You’re stretching me out s-so much… I-I can’t believe you even fit inside me.”

“WE’RE GOING TO BREAK HER,” Venom shouted, a pinch of worry in his tone, because why if Eddie truly splat you open on his cock? Was that even possible? He’d have to look it up in Reddit sex forums on Eddie’s laptop while he was asleep.

You rode Eddie harder, faster, your hips moved with wild, hungry purpose. Eddie’s head tipped back against the pillow, his hands slipping up to your waist, then your tits, then back to your hips again like he didn’t know where to anchor himself. His abs trembled with the effort of holding on. Your name kept falling from his lips like a prayer, like a curse, like the only thing keeping him together. Your thighs began to shake, your moans rose, your body trembled as you tipped closer to the edge, feeling his imminent orgasm approaching.

“Jesus—fuck!” he groaned. “You’re gonna make me—shit… I can’t.”

“Come on, baby,” you encouraged him seductively. “Cum with me. Want you to cum inside… fill me up so deep I feel it for days.”

“I’M GOING TO COMBUST,” Venom wailed. “THIS IS THE END. WE CAN’T KEEP UP. SHE’S GOING TO DRAIN US DRY.”

Eddie finally snapped, his fingers dug in your flesh with desperate strength, pulling you closed as he slammed up one final time, so deep it knocked the breath from your lungs. His cock throbbed inside you, pulsing as he emptied everything he had in his balls, burying his thick and warm ropes of cum deep inside you where gravity couldn’t reach it, where it wouldn’t come out.

You followed him just a moment later, clenching around him with a loud cry, collapsing over his body with a full-body shiver. He held you in place as you both came down from your climaxes.

“OH MY GOD,” Venom wheezed. “I THINK WE BLACKED OUT. SHE DRAINED US. I CAN SEE GOD AND HE LOOKS JUST LIKE HER.”

Eddie stood in the kitchen the next morning in nothing but a pair of sweats, and a cup of coffee clutched in both hands like it might help him, give him enough energy to survive what had just occurred less than twelve hours ago. His arms ached, his back popped every time he moved, his thighs were quivering like he’d run a marathon uphill.

You were still asleep in his bed, sprawled, satisfied, and glowing like you’d had the best sex of your life. He was trying desperately not to think about the things you did to him, not the way your nails raked down his ribs, not the way your thighs shook as you rode him, not the way you whispered filth in his ear like you were some girl that came straight out of his wet dreams.

But Venom wouldn’t shut up. “You were screaming, Eddie. Like a dying animal. I thought your soul was leaving your body.”

“Please,” Eddie groaned under his breath. “Not now.”

“You were screaming with your eyes closed, Eddie. I SAW it. She rode you like she was trying to erase your spine. You cried a little. You did. Don’t lie to me.”

“I didn’t cry—”

“You whimpered.”

Eddie stared down into his mug like it might drown him. His reflection in the coffee showed the face of a broken man.

“She said you were so big, Eddie. She said you were filling her up,” Venom said dreamily, as if those were the most beautiful words he’d ever heard. “I always thought you were small and insignificant, but apparently she disagrees.”

“V, you’re giving me a headache.”

“Do you know what that means, Eddie? It means we’re legends now. The bar has been set, and it’s us. We’re the bar.”

“I need sleep. I need silence. I need—”

“You need a chiropractor. Your hips cracked, Eddie. She folded you in half like a lawn chair, and you thanked her.”

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose, utterly exhausted.

“I’m so proud of you, Eddie,” Venom said smugly. “You’re not even halfway bad anymore. And you’re getting laid like a pornstar. Don’t even thank me.”

Eddie, still trying to come down from everything that had occurred just mere hours ago, blinked up at the ceiling. “…Thank you?”

“Exactly. I made you who you are. But don’t even mention it. Seriously. Not a word.”

“I can’t believe this is my life now.”

“Your life is perfect. Now go check on her. Make sure she’s still glowing. And if she wants another round then STRETCH FIRST. I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH.”

Eddie wasn’t sure how it happened, but one second he was walking to his bed to wake you up, and the next the sheets were half on the floor, the mattress was crooked. His thighs were shaking, his chest was covered in sweat, and you were on top of him again, grinding slow, like you were feeding on the way he trembled beneath you.

He curled his fingers into the blankets like he needed an anchor or he’d float right out of his body. His mouth hung open, and those glassy eyes kept looking up at you like you were some kind of divine punishment and he’d earned every second of it.

“Baby,” he gasped, “baby, I—I need a second…”

But you just leaned down and hungrily kissed him, moaning into his mouth as you rolled your hips again and sank down hard, taking every thick inch. His body jerked beneath you, he grabbed your waist, fingers digging on you like he couldn’t decide whether to hold on or let go.

“OH MY GOD, SHE’S DOING IT AGAIN,” Venom screamed in his head. “EDDIE, THIS IS ROUND FOUR. I’M COUNTING. ROUND FOUR IN THE LAST TWELVE HOURS. SHE’S TRYING TO KILL US.”

“I love riding you, you know that?” you whispered against his lips. “You look so fucking good when you shut your eyes and make that cute little face, like you can’t decide if you wanna cry or cum.”

Eddie let out a shaky laugh, it sounded almost like a whimper. “P-Probably a little bit of both,” he gasped, totally wrecked.

“Why are you so fucking perfect,” your hot breath and sugar-sweet voice hitting his cheek. “You fuck me so good, Eddie—so deep. I can’t get enough of you…”

Eddie’s head fell back with a groan so loud it bordered on a sob.

“STOP. STOP IT RIGHT NOW. SHE’S SAYING THE MAGIC WORDS AGAIN. SHE’S SAYING DEEP—OH FUCK, EDDIE, WE CAN’T—”

“Please,” Eddie gasped, trying not to die as you rocked steadily against him. “You’re gonna break me—”

“Good,” you purred, your nails dragging lightly down his chest, you loved seeing the marks you left on his body. “I want you broken. l want you mine. Your body knows it, you’re so hard for me. You’re still hard after all I’ve done to you. Look at you.”

You rode him harder, like you couldn’t get enough of the way he moaned under you, of the way his tip kept hitting your cervix like it was meant to live there, buried deep in you.

“Perfect. She’s perfect. Marry her. Build her a temple. Do not cum.”

His moan hitched in his throat as you clenched around him, grinding just right in tight circles of your hips that had him twitching inside you, helpless, already teetering on the edge again. Eddie wasn’t sure if it was possible for a man to cum this much, this many times, or if it was some kind of symbiote-induced superhuman stamina bullshit. Maybe it was Venom, or maybe it was just you, the way you touched him, rode him, coaxed him into giving more when he was sure he had nothing left.

“F-Fuck, fuck—you’re gonna make me, oh shit” he gasped, cracking under you.

“Do it,” you breathed against his neck. “I want to feel you cum inside me again.”

“OH, COME ON. AGAIN? WE’RE OUT OF FLUIDS, WOMAN. HE’S A MAN, NOT A DAMN FIREHOSE—”

“Please,” Eddie whispered, nearly delirious at this point, “please don’t stop—”

You didn’t stop, you leaned back, bracing your hands on his thighs for better support, and started riding him with that same ruthless, perfect rhythm that always pushed him to the edge.

His eyes rolled back, his mouth slack with nothing but broken moans spilling out. You felt his thighs spasming violently under your hands, his abs clenching so hard you could see every muscle strain. Seconds later he spilled into you again with a strangled cry. His cum, thick and hot, painted your insides. He held you down on him, still buried deep, like he couldn’t let you go just yet, like he’d to stay inside you or he’d fall apart completely.

Venom stirred. “Well, well, well.”

Eddie blinked up at the ceiling. To say that he couldn’t speak would be a misunderstanding, he couldn’t even form one coherent thought.

“She’s purring on top of us like a satisfied little kitten. We really ruined her this time.”

Eddie flushed to the tips of his ears, his arms instinctively tightened around you, like you could somehow hear the alien banter happening in his brain.

“I give it an eight and a half out of ten. Lost points for crying a little when you came. Oh and that little noise she made when you hit that spot? Mm. Let me try sometime—”

“NO.” Eddie screamed inside his mind.

“Rude.”

“I can’t get enough of you,” you whispered, looking at the complete wrecked state of him. “You’re all I want, all the time.”

You collapsed on his chest, both of you were panting, a hot, sweaty, tangled mess of limbs laying in his bed. Eddie’s heart stuttered in his chest, maybe you should want him a little less, because if you kept going at this rhythm he wasn’t sure he’d survive another month of you.

“I’m yours,” he said softly. “Even if it kills me.”

“AND IT WILL,” Venom screamed. “BUT WHAT A WAY TO GO.”

Eddie stood under the shower like a man clinging to the last shreds of life. His hands were braced against the wall, shoulders hunched, jaw slack, eyes blank. Everything hurt, from his thighs, to his lower back. Even muscles he didn’t know existed… even his soul hurt. And despite all that, all he could think was you were probably still not done.

“Eddie, you are going to die,” Venom said calmly inside his head, as if he’d already assimilated it. “She is going to ride you into an early grave, Eddie.”

Eddie groaned, a sound that came from deep in his chest, half agony, half awe.

“I counted five times. FIVE. What the hell are you even made of?”

“I don’t know,” he rasped. “Take out. Coffee. Regret.” He winced as he shifted his weight from one sore leg to the other, his knees buckled slightly.

“You need protein. And electrolytes. And a spiritual cleanse.”

“She just kept saying I was perfect. What was I supposed to do?” Eddie recalled all the things you’d said last night, and his cock twitched a little, completely against his will.

“Say no?” Venom said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Eddie gave a tired little laugh. “Not possible.” His lips curved, he looked drunk… on you.

“She told you it felt like you were in her stomach, Eddie. Her stomach. That’s not a compliment. That’s a warning. That’s probably dangerous.”

“Sure sounded like a compliment last night.” He smiled again, both dreamy and destroyed at the same time.

“Because your brain short-circuited the second she said the word deep. You think with your dick, and your dick has a death wish.”

Eddie ignored that, he shut off the water, stepping out and grabbing a towel. His legs wobbled, making him sit down on the edge of the tub.

“I think I’m in love with her.” The words escaped him like a confession before he could shut his mouth. Maybe it was his pussy-drunk state of mind doing the talking, but right fucking now, he felt like you were the love of his life.

“…I KNEW IT. You idiot. Of course you fuck a woman after months of celibacy and you fall in love with her.”

“She’s insatiable,” he murmured with something between awe and terror. Part of him was a little scared of you, because every round, you looked less like a person and more like a sex demon. “She looked at me like I was the best thing she’d ever felt. Like I ruined her for anyone else.”

“No pressure.” Venom said sarcastically.

“And I liked it. I liked being the one to give her that.”

“You will die. You know that, right? She’s going to climb you like a jungle gym until your hips detach.” He was trying to knock some sense into Eddie’s mind, there was no way he’d be able to keep up with you without severe and permanent body damage.

Eddie ran a hand down his face and sighed. “God, it would be so worth it.” His eyes closed, and a delirious smile appeared on his lips.

“You say that now. But wait till tonight.”

Eddie limped back to bed with two protein shakes and a bottle of Gatorade. His legs were barely working, his hips stiff, his thighs sore, each step felt like betrayal. You were already waiting under the covers with a smile that made his knees weak again. That smile was as wicked as your mind, glowing with mischief, and it made something in his gut clench painfully, cause he knew you were not even close to being done. His cock twitched in spite of itself. He was sore, spent, barely upright… and still getting hard for you.

And in the back of his head…

“ROUND SIX. SOUND THE ALARMS. RING THE BELL. PRAY TO WHATEVER GOD YOU HAVE LEFT.”

You climbed on top of him and guided him into you with precision, gasping as the thick length of him stretched you again, inch by aching inch.

“Ready to keep going, tough guy?” you purred, your hips giving one teasing grind just to watch him squirm under you.

Eddie blinked up at you, sweat-drenched, like he’d just survived an exorcism, and nodded fast.

“Yep. Ready.” His voice cracked halfway through. “Totally ready.”

“Liar,” Venom muttered. “Your soul left your body two rounds ago.”

He was still sensitive, painfully so, the feel of your heat enveloping him made his whole body jerk. His fingers fumbled for your hips, trying and failing to get a grip, his eyes squeezed shut and his lips parted in a shuddered moan as you took him fully, until he bottomed out.

“OH MY GOD,” Venom screamed. “WE ARE BACK IN HELL.”

You rode him like your life depended on it, your hips slamming one second, grinding on the next, rolling with that perfect, filthy rhythm that left him gasping for air. Your body was moving like you were made for this, made for ruining him. You started to circle your hips, rocking down mercilessly. Every roll, every drag of your cunt around him seemed to be engineered to break him into pieces, every inch of you was built for his destruction… and he was willing allowing you to destroy him.

“HER GRIP IS UNHOLY. I’M LOSING OXYGEN. I THINK I SEE MY MOTHER.”

Your walls clenched around him as you ground down harder, chasing your own high now with reckless, beautiful abandon. The wet, obscene sound of you moving on him echoed through the room. His hands gripped your thighs like they were his only tether to reality, knuckles white, arms trembling.

“I’m gonna cum,” you gasped, head tossed back, riding him harder, faster. “Gonna cum with you so deep inside—”

Eddie’s eyes rolled back, his mouth opened in a soundless moan, head pressing into the pillow, helpless beneath you. Every nerve in his body was on fire, every touch, every squeeze of your heat around him sent him closer to the edge.

You shattered first, crying out, body trembling, nails clawing at his chest as your orgasm tore through you. The way you pulsed around his cock was merciless, and he was hanging by a thread.

“Fuck, I—” Eddie choked, nails digging into your hips. “You’re gonna make me cum again—can’t—shit—”

You leaned in, your voice was so soft it leaned on pornographic. “You’ll cum when I say you can.” Your teeth grazed his lobe, your body still grinding down slowly, deliberately milking him. “You can take more. Be a good boy for me, Eddie.”

“GOOD BOY?!” Venom shrieked. “I TOLD YOU THIS WOULD HAPPEN! SHE’S TURNED US INTO HER PET!”

Eddie was too far gone to speak, he was just a trembling mess beneath you, muscles twitching like he’d been wrung dry and somehow was still begging for more. His stomach was locked tight, body slick with sweat, his cock twitching helplessly inside you as you kept him right on the edge, right there in that sweet, agonizing purgatory.

You rode his dick with brutal skill, lifting and dropping your hips just enough to make him gasp, to keep him aching, leaking. And every you slammed down and clamped around him, squeezing him tight with that wicked grip, your cunt spasmed around him like you knew exactly how to drive him insane—he'd get close, so close, just for you to stop, keeping him on the edge of madness.

Your lips brushed his ear, his breath was hot and slow. “So close, baby? You gonna cum?”

He whimpered.

“No, you’re not. Not yet.”

You rolled your hips slowly, dragging him back from the edge, then tightening again.

“Good boy. So deep. So full.” Each word was a weapon. “You’re so big, Eddie. Stretching me open just right. No one makes me feel like this—no one.”

“YES. BECAUSE SHE KILLED THEM ALL,” Venom bellowed in Eddie’s mind, practically gleeful. “THEY’RE DEAD, EDDIE. SHE DESTROYED THEM. WE’RE THE LAST SURVIVORS.”

He let out a ragged, broken moan, hips jerking up like he’d lost control of his body. His eyes were glassy, unfocused, his lips trembled as he tried to form words. He was done. Gone. Completely at your mercy.

“Not yet,” you said sweetly. “You can take a little more. You’re gonna beg for it, and I’ll decide when you get to cum.”

"Baby—"

“Beg, Eddie,” you purred, slowing just enough to torture him.

And then Venom chimed in his brain, practically vibrating with glee:

“Come on, Eddie. Be a little bitch and beg.”

“P-please, baby,” he gasped, voice cracked. “Let me cum—please.”

You smiled cruelly, circling your hips. “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you.”

He sobbed a little, actually sobbed.

“Please, baby. I need to cum. I need it—please let me cum. Please, I’ll be good, I swear—”

“Beautifully pathetic.”

You clamped down hard, grinding your hips in just the right way—tight, deep, merciless. And that was it, he broke, with a strangled, helpless cry, he spilled inside you, his whole body seizing beneath yours, fingers digging into your skin like he’d never get enough.

His arms wrapped around you like he might fall apart without you. He gasped your name, over and over, like a prayer, or more like a plea for mercy. You didn’t stop though, you kept moving without clemency, milking him through it.

“OH GOD NO, SHE’S STILL GOING,” Venom shrieked. “WE’RE GOING TO DIE. WE’RE GOING TO NEED IV FLUIDS.”

He closed his eyes tight. “Stop talking—fuck—not you,” he added quickly when you looked confused. “Just… you feel so good, baby.”

Eddie was shaking beneath you, trembling like a live wire. His moans were wet and broken, eyes glazed and barely focusing, every nerve in his body was on fire, stretched far past the edge, but you weren’t stopping. Not yet.

His jaw dropped in another hoarse, strangled moan, and he couldn’t stop his voice from cracking as you rolled your hips deliciously, making his cock shiver again deep inside you. Poor Eddie was still achingly hard, even after everything you’d already wrung out of him.

“You’re doing so good, baby. So sensitive. Still so hard for me.”

“You’re evil,” he croaked, voice shredded. The words barely made it out—it was more like just a hoarse breath.

“You love it,” you whispered back.

You licked the sweat from his collarbone, bit his shoulder, just enough to make him shudder. And when you started to roll your hips again, dragging his length through your slick, tight heat, Eddie let out a low, broken groan.

“B-Baby,” he rasped, voice raw and shaking. “I can’t—I already—fuck, I already came—I don’t even know how many times.” His hips still bucked up into you, like his body didn’t care what his mouth said, he was still chasing more of you on pure and pathetic instinct.

“You can give me another,” you whispered, voice sweet but with an edge of cruelty. “I know you can. Look at you still so hard for me. You want to cum again, don’t you?”

“WE ARE GOING TO DIE,” Venom screamed inside his head. “SHE'S KILLING US. THIS IS A SEXUAL EXECUTION.”

“You’re mine, Eddie. That cock belongs to me. So give me what’s mine.”

“OUR COCK BELONGS TO HER.”

Eddie cried out, back arching off the bed, his thighs trembling beneath you, nothing coherent was coming out of his mouth, just desperate sounds torn from inside him.

You were absolutely soaking him now, his cum from the last time still warm inside you, your slick drenching his thighs, your sweat glistening as your bodies slapped together. The scent of sex hung thick in the air. It was like every single drag of your tight cunt around him was too much, too good, too fucking perfect. His hands scrabbled at your hips, unsure whether to hold you still or pull you down harder.

“I can’t,” he gasped. “I can’t. I don’t have anything left in me.”

“I know you do, Eddie. Please, just a little more.”

“You’re not gonna survive this. But don’t stop. I wanna see how many loads a man can give before he breaks.”

And then you started moving for real. No teasing, no mercy. Just deep, dragging, devastating thrusts, your body slamming down on his cock with ruthless, hypnotic rhythm, it was as if everything you've done before was child's play and this was the real thing.

Each thrust made him jolt, he felt as if you were electrocuting him. His hands clawed blindly at the sheets, then at your hips, trying not to pass out as you rode him straight through the overstimulation like it was your mission from God.

“Holy shit,” Eddie groaned, already unraveling again. “Please—I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna—”

You leaned in close, breathing heavy as your hips rolled deep, grinding down so hard he screamed.

“FUCK—!” Eddie’s back arched violently, his toes curled, and his fingers dug into your flesh like he was going to fall off the edge of the world.

Another orgasm slammed through him, ripping him apart, every muscle in his body locking up as he came into you again, deeper than last time, hot and endless. It was too much, far too much, and he sobbed with it. You kept riding him, your cunt sucking every last drop like you owned him.

His cock twitched over and over inside you, leaking, pulsing, fully drained. His voice was gone. His mind was gone. You had fucked him stupid.

Venom cackled inside his head. “This is ART. I’m framing this moment. Look at you, Eddie. Weak. Spent. Ruined.”

You kept rolling your hips in slow, gracious circles, milking every last drop, drawing out every tremor in his spine, every helpless twitch of his cock, until his whole body went limp.

“I—can’t—babe, I can’t,” he gasped. “Too much—too—fuck, you’re gonna kill me—”

“You love it,” you whispered against his ear. “You’re so good for me, Eddie. So sensitive, so full… you give me everything.”

“WE ARE NO LONGER MAN,” Venom groaned. “WE ARE PUTTY. WE ARE GOO. WE ARE HER PLAYTHING.”

Eddie’s eyes fluttered shut as you finally—finally—slowed to a stop, keeping him inside you while you curled up against his chest. His arms wrapped around you in instinctive surrender, his cock twitched one last time inside you before starting to soften.

“You did so good,” you murmured. “I’ll let you rest now.”

Venom made the sound of a dying whale. “SEND… HELP…”

Join my tag list

A/N: Revelations coming in the next part???👀

I’m gonna be honest, I almost didn’t post this because I felt like it wasn’t good enough. Idk, it’s all porn without plot and I figured some people might expect more, but at the same time, I never promised any plot, just some silly little one-shots, so jokes on you for expecting something from me. Let your girl feel insecure sometimes, okay? Anyway, I hope you like it, and I promise I’ll try to bring some more plot next time.

Makes me wanna cry with all the love you’ve given to the Eddie fics🥹 When I did that poll a while ago and he got so few votes, I thought well, five people are gonna read it, but I don’t mind cause I’m dying to write for him and V. But now I’m head over heels seeing how much you’ve loved them.

Thank you a million times over for all the love and support🫶🏻🩷

tag list: @ducksareswagy @unforgivemn @conrzd @xmrsbutlerx @chaos-4baby @potter-solomons @bhyunrosies @glitterspark @freyadronning @imjustaprettyyprincess @laufeysons @moonbeamott @ohthisisanna @moonlightbored345 @faithhhhhsblog @sethell @sweetnspicychicken @thescxrpio @marisolpusheen @joelmillerswife9 @cowboylikejoha @dugiioh @crimsonxcobra @twigleektribute23 @youngadult9016 @alexxavicry @lil-royal-spo0k @tr199yc0841n @thievin-stealing @tearsweetenedtea @serenity-1221 @wxrw1dow @llollzylol @feveredvisions @uncassettodiricordi @Ghostlover19 @frenchaurora @mommymilkers0526 @afyreinjuly @maru0uu @kpopslur

dividers by: @/saradika-graphics

[sethell]

Okay yeah, I’ve made peace with the fact that I’m here for Venom, not Eddie. I love that monster so bad it hurts. Waiting is physically painful at this point

Writing the next chapter of the Eddie x Neighbor series, hopefully up by this weekend, hehe.

“You can give me another,” you whispered, voice sweet but with an edge of cruelty. “I know you can. Look at you still so hard for me. You want to cum again, don’t you?”

“WE ARE GOING TO DIE,” Venom screamed inside his head. “SHE'S KILLING US. THIS IS A SEXUAL EXECUTION.”

“You’re mine, Eddie. That cock belongs to me. So give me what’s mine.”

“OUR COCK BELONGS TO HER.”

[sethell]

“POKE THE BEAR” part 1

Joel Miller x Sunshine!Reader

Summary: You’re too bubbly, too chatty, too cheerful for Joel’s liking. Always rambling about dreams or tossing out random facts no one asked for. And sometimes… Joel just wants a little silence.

Joel’s Masterlist Join the tag list

WC: 11.4k

Warning/Tags: Angst, eventual smut (not in this part), kind of slowburn, undisclosed age gap, f!reader, Joel is a grumpy and mean old man, and ofc he sucks at feelings.

“Hey partner, you’re late.” Joel heard you call out, your voice far too bright for this early in the morning, too damn cheerful for seven a.m. “Looks like it’s you and me from now on, huh?”

Joel didn’t answer right away. He just gave a grunt, adjusted the rifle on his shoulder, and kept walking toward the stables.

He liked patrol, always had. It kept him sharp, reminded him of what still lingered beyond the gates of Jackson, reminded him of the shit people were too comfortable forgetting. The warm beds and hot meals were nice, but it was comfort that made people soft, and being soft gets you killed. He also liked patrolling with Tommy, it had always made the hours go easier. They understood each other without needing to say much, they knew when to speak, when to let the silence stretch between them, and when to crack a joke. But last week Tommy had come to Joel, said he needed to cut patrol for a while. "Just a few weeks," he promised. Said he needed his mornings free to supervice some work being done on the hydric plant. "Don´t worry, I'll reassign someone with you."

And now here you were, bright-eyed, full of questions, talking like you were hosting a radio show. You always had something to say, too much to say. You never knew when to shut up, it was like you didn’t realize how loud your voice could get, how damn annoying it was for the people who had to listen to you, as if the words “shut the hell up” had never been directed your way in your entire life. And maybe it’d be easier for Joel if you were just useless. If you couldn’t shoot for shit or kept forgetting to check your blind spots, then he’d have a reason to complain, a reason to go to Tommy and say, “Take this girl off patrol. She can’t do a damn thing right.” But that wasn’t the case, you were sharp and you knew how to handle yourself. You were a survivor just like him.

And that pissed him off even more, he didn’t like you not because you were loud, or bright, or talked too much, sure, those things annoyed the shit out of him, but it was because somehow, despite everything this broken world had thrown at you, you still looked around and saw something good, you still looked at him and saw something good. And he didn’t know what the hell to do with that.

Joel didn’t say out loud how annoying he found you, but he thought it constantly, every time he got saddled with you on patrol. You, with your sunshine voice and those eyes full of stupid, stubborn hope, like you hadn’t noticed the world ended twenty years ago, like you still thought it could be fixed somehow, or that beautiful things still existed. He’d sit through entire shifts in stiff, seething silence, grunting when you spoke, or straight-up ignoring you altogether, hoping you’d eventually catch the drift. That maybe, just maybe, you’d realize he didn’t give a damn about whatever weird dream you had last night, or your favorite color growing up, or some useless fact about bees, or whales, or whatever the hell it was today.

It was a cold morning. Joel pulled his coat tighter as he trudged through the morning snow, boots crunching over the frozen ground. You were just behind him, your constant stream of chatter following him.

“…and did you know lizards can drop their tails when they’re in danger? Like, it just… boom, falls off, to distract predators. Imagine if we could do that, being chased by a runner and suddenly your ass just drops off behind you like ‘see ya!’ Of course, we wouldn’t be able to grow it back like lizards, but still. I think that’d be kinda cool, right?”

Joel didn’t answer, he never did, but that never stopped you. “I read that in a book, I mean, it was a children’s book, but it was still really interesting. Did you know that female goats don’t live with the male goats—”

“Bucks and does,” Joel cut in. You blinked, surprised, because that was the first thing he’d said to you all morning.

“Huh?”

“Female goats are called does. Males are bucks.”

“Oh. Right.” You nodded thoughtfully. “Well, when the female goats—does—have babies, if the babies turn out to be male, once they grow up, the moms kick them out. Make them go live with the other mal— bucks. I think goats are smart. We should raise some here at Jackson, and we could even make some goat cheese with their milk. Oh, I’ve never tried goat cheese, but I’m guessing it’s probably really good. Have you ever tried it, Joel?”

Joel only grunted, a gruff sound that you couldn’t even tell if it was a yes or a no.

You told him next about the deer you’d seen near the river, about the weird dream you had three nights ago where the moon exploded but it turned out the moon was made of cheese, so everyone at Jackson was happy and celebrated by eating moon-cheese pizzas.

“Hey, Joel,” you called again, as if you were clueless about how much you were annoying him, your voice muffled behind your scarf. “Can I ask you something?”

“No.”

You snorted. “Okay, well, I’m gonna ask anyway.” He rolled his eyes where you couldn’t see. “If you could be an animal, what would you choose?”

He didn’t turn around. “You’re gonna get yourself killed someday, talkin’ ‘stead of payin’ attention.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He sighed heavily, like your words were physically weighing him down. Still, he said nothing, the crunch of snow under your boots filled the silence.

“I think I’d be a butterfly,” you said, your voice light as the snow crunched beneath your boots. “It’d be nice to fly, go wherever I wanted. Plus, they’re cute. People like butterflies, they get the pretty treatment, you know? Everyone’s like, ‘aww, look at that butterfly, it’s so pretty!’ But if you’re, like, a moth or something? People just wanna kill you. Instantly. Life’s so unfair, don’t you think?”

Joel blinked. What the hell were you even on about? He didn’t get how your brain worked, how you even got to these thoughts. Butterflies and moths? Did you just think things and say them out loud with no filter, no sense of direction? He didn’t say a word, just kept walking, praying internally that you’d finally run out of things to say, that the endless stream of chatter would dry up, that you’d burn through every thought in that strange little head of yours and, God willing, just shut the fuck up already.

“Or maybe I’d wanna be a chicken,” you mused, your voice louder than necessary, resonating through the woods. “They always look so clueless, right? Like, what’s going on in their heads? Are they secretly scheming some evil plan, or is it just… static in there?”

Joel didn’t respond, not that you expected him to, so you just kept going. “Did you know roosters don’t just crow in the morning? They cackle, too. It’s a totally different sound. Like, they cackle when they wanna mate, or when they find food and wanna tell the others. Imagine being a chicken and hearing your husband cackle, you’d have to figure out if he wants to do it or if he just found a worm.” You laughed at your own joke, your head tipping back like it was the funniest thing you’d ever come up with. “Like, ’Is he trying to make a baby or is dinner ready?’ That’s gotta be so confusing.”

Joel grunted, just a short, low sound, but from him, it might as well have been a full monologue. You grinned, proud of yourself, that was something, at least you’d managed to pull a reaction out of him.

Shoving your hands deeper into your coat pockets, you added, “Y’know, I think if you were an animal, you’d be a bear. You totally give ‘hibernate for six months just to avoid people’ vibes. Or maybe… a lone wolf. Yeah. All moody and broody and with a tragic past. Definitely a lone wolf.”

Joel didn’t say a word. The woods go quiet again, and Joel dares to hope, for a moment, that maybe that was it, maybe you’d finally run out of things to say, that you were done, and he could have what he wanted most: silence. The trees stand tall and bare, branches black against the pale morning sky, Joel walks ahead, the rifle slung over his shoulder doesn’t sway.

You glance up. “I had a dream last night about—”

Joel stops short. You nearly crash into him, your boots skidding a little on the snow-packed path. He doesn’t turn fully, he just speaks.

“Y’know,” he mutters, eyes still forward, “you ain’t gotta fill every second with talk.”

“Oh.”

He turns just enough to glance at you, not all the way, just enough that you catch a piece of his face in profile, of his mouth pressed into a hard line. He doesn’t look angry, not exactly, be just looks… worn, maybe a little annoyed.

“Jus’ sayin’,” he adds after a beat. “You could let the woods do some of the talkin’.”

You nod. “Right. Of course. Sorry.”

He starts walking again, crunching through the snow like nothing happened, and you stay quiet… for almost twenty whole seconds, until you suddenly saw a rabbit hopping through the woods, and Joel knew another goddamn animal fact was coming.

“Did you know rabbits have like three or four pregnancies every single year? How insane is that? I mean, I guess that’s where the whole ‘doing it like rabbits’ thing came from. It’s crazy how biology works, don’t they get tired of popping out babies? Poor things.”

Joel exhales sharply through his nose, and you smile like you’ve just won something. “You ever shut up?”

You grin, he was just kidding, right? He actually loved hearing your rumbles, didn’t he? “Nope.”

He mutters something under his breath that might be Jesus Christ, might be kill me now. It’s hard to tell.

“God, this weather’s perfect,” you chirped, dragging your boot through the fresh blanket of snow. “Crisp, but not too cold, you know what I mean? And the trees look so beautiful like this, like they got powdered sugar on them.” You glanced over, squinting at Joel’s profile. “You like snow, Joel? You seem like a winter guy. Definitely winter-coded.”

No answer, not even a grunt. You didn’t take it personal, you were used to that with Joel. The silence didn’t bother you anymore. You just… filled it, that’s what you did. You filled space, filled time, filled quiet, because the world was already heavy enough, and talking made it lighter, at least for you. But Joel wasn’t having it today, maybe because he’d had a shitty night, because he hadn’t slept. He was even moodier and grumpier than usual, which was saying something.

“So I was thinking,” you went on, undeterred, “what if we organized a karaoke night at Jackson?”

Still nothing from him.

“I bet you’d kill some old country song. You’ve got that deep, grumbly voice, you could totally pull off a Johnny Cash. Or, like… wait, do you like country music? I kind of assume everyone from Texas does cause I don’t remember much from before and that’s what comes to my mind when I think about Texas... did you use to go places on a horse? Did you have a cowboy hat? I feel like you must’ve had a cowboy hat. Sorry if the whole stereotyping is offensive, by the way.”

Nothing, not a sound came out of his mouth, but you didn’t let that stop you. “Anyway, do you even like Johnny Cash? You could totally sing something from him, I bet you’d crush it.”

He didn’t answer, not even a little grunt this time. You grinned and nudged his arm lightly with your elbow. “Come on, Joel. Give me something. A sigh? A groan? One of those little annoyed huffs you’re so good at?”

His steps halted, you blinked and looked up at him. “What’s wro—”

“I swear to God,” he snapped, turning on you fast, “if you don’t shut the hell up for five goddamn minutes, ’m gonna lose my fuckin’ mind.”

You froze, the breath caught in your throat, you were used to Joel being grumpy, you were used to his silence, the annoyed grunts, the glares, but you’d never heard him like this, never heard him snap.

You let out a weak, awkward laugh, trying to lighten the sudden weight in the air. “Talking’s kind of my thing, Joel. You know that.”

He shook his head hard, like he was trying to shake you right out of it. “You think every moment of silence is a goddamn invitation. Like you have to talk, like people need to hear every damn thought that crosses your mind. Well, we don’t. I don’t.”

Your voice came quieter now, a little stung. “I was just trying to make conversation.”

“Well, I couldn’t give two shits bout what the snow reminds you of. I don’t give a fuck about what you think I’d sing. And I don’t care if you think ’m a fuckin’ winter guy.” He took a step closer, looming now. “You treat every patrol like it’s some goddamn field trip. And some days... some days, I can’t take it, you’re too much. So do me a favor, ’nd top talkin’. Just… stop.”

He didn’t even blink when he said it: “’Cause I can’t stand the sound of your voice. And believe me, I don’t give a damn about anythin’ that comes out of your mouth.”

You didn’t speak, which was rare, Joel had finally done what he’d wanted for weeks now… he’d shut you up, you didn’t even know what to say, it felt like someone had reached into your throat and ripped the words out, like even if you wanted to speak, your mouth wouldn’t know how to shape the sound.

Joel’s chest rose and fell, hard, like he’d just spat out something he’d been choking on, like it was a relief to finally say it, but the silence that followed wasn’t peaceful or restful. It was cold, unpleasantly cold. And maybe that was the point, maybe he’d meant it to be, maybe this was what it took to finally make you shut up, right? He’d tried subtle hints, hadn’t he? Polite nudges, short replies, walking faster to get ahead of you, that one time he said maybe you should “save your breath for the hike.” But you never got it, you never listened, so maybe this was necessary, maybe cruelty was the only language you understood. At least, that’s what he tried to tell himself.

You took a single step back, your boots crunching in the snow. “Okay,” you said lowly. “Got it.” You didn’t look at him, you just turned, and started walking ahead, in silence now, just like he wanted.

The next hour dragged and you didn’t say a word. Your mind buzzed with a thousand thoughts, stories, questions, stray facts desperate to spill out, but none of them made it past your lips. You fought the urge to tell him about the time you’d built a snow fort as a kid and nearly froze your fingers off. You stopped yourself from asking him about his favorite food, or who he liked the least in Jackson, or whether he knew horses can’t physically vomit.

You were quiet, gave him exactly what he wanted, but somehow, it didn’t feel like a win. Joel had spent so long wishing for this, some goddamn peace and quiet. And now that he had it, now that you’d finally shut up… it didn’t feel right, didn’t feel good. It felt wrong. The silence settled between you two and guilt slowly crawled up his spine, making him feel like a dick for saying that to you, gnawing at the edges of his pride until all that was left was the sharp echo of what he’d said and the miserable quiet that followed.

You stopped by a frozen stream, crouching to sip from your canteen. Joel stepped up beside you, but he kept a careful distance, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed closer anymore. You could feel him watching you, but you didn’t look back.

“Wasn’t tryin’ to be mean,” he muttered, keeping his eyes on the snow.

You glanced sideways, but didn’t dare to meet his gaze. “Didn’t sound like it.”

Joel exhaled, a frustrated sigh more at himself than at you. “I just—”

“You don’t have to explain,” you cut in quickly, with a smile that didn’t even pretend to reach your eyes. “Really. I get it. Some people like quiet. Some people like noise. You like quiet. I’ll be quiet.”

He shifted his weight. “It’s not like that, I—”

“Sure it is,” you said, your voice light in that careful way that hurt more than yelling ever could. “Lesson learned, Joel. Don’t poke the bear.”

You were waiting at the stables when Joel arrived. You had your coat on and your hair tucked into your hat. You looked like you always did, a little too pretty for patrol, the soft curve of your cheeks pink from the cold, but something was missing… your usual charm, your cheerful voice greeting him, your bright smile. You just nodded when you saw him appear at the stables. No “good morning,” no snow commentary, no teasing about how slow he always was, just a nod. He looked at you for a second longer than usual, then walked past to saddle up his horse.

“Ready?” he asked.

You didn’t say anything, just climbed up in silence and rode. The first hour passed without a single word, and it felt so unnatural, so uncomfortable. You used to fill the air do naturally, but now it was just the wind and hooves and the sound of your breathing. Your silence was sharp and uncharacteristic, the girl who used to talk about snow and song lyrics and dream dinners with celebrities was now just… trying not to breathe too loud, scared that would annoy him too.

By the time you reached the crossing path at the river, Joel had tried to say something three different times. The first time, he opened his mouth and closed it, his jaw working like he had to chew the words before they came out. The second, he cleared his throat and muttered, “Watch your step,” as you crossed a patch of ice. You nodded and that was it, no smile, no playful “Yes, Dad.” Just a nod. The third, he almost said your name, just to test it, to see if you’d say anything back, but he didn’t, too scared you wouldn’t reply.

At one point, you saw a deer sprint across the path, his cute little white tail flashing through the trees. Normally, you’d make a joke, say something like, “Think he had somewhere to be? Maybe a hot date?” but today, you just watched it go by, didn’t even crack a smile, just breathed in slowly and let the moment pass. Joel followed your line of sight, then glanced at you again, you didn’t look back, didn’t even seem to notice him. He couldn’t stand it, the silence didn’t suit you, it looked wrong on you, like watching a bird forget how to sing.

And the worst part was that you weren’t pouting, you weren’t dramatic about it, weren’t even trying to punish him. You were just… quiet, just deeply hurt by what he’d said, and it was all his fault alone. It echoed in his head, louder now than it had sounded in the moment, he still saw it, too clearly: the way you’d stepped back that day, the way your smile had dropped, the way you’d said, “Lesson learned. Don’t poke the bear.”

By the time the sun dipped low, you kept ahead of him on the path back, not out of spite, but because you didn’t feel like walking beside someone who didn’t want to hear you. Except… he did. He realized that now, too late, maybe—but still, he missed your dumb jokes, your questions, your weird little facts. He missed the way you made the world feel softer, he hadn’t deserved any of that, but you’d given it freely, and he’d crushed it with one goddamn outburst. Crushed something warm and rare and good.

Snow fell over your wool hat. It was another patrol morning with Joel, but you were still quiet, you weren’t speaking, and Joel hated it. He wouldn’t admit that, of course, not out loud, but he did. You rode a few feet ahead of him, not too far, not enough to be rude, but far enough that he didn’t have to pretend not to look at you. And he did look. Often, in short, guilty glances when you weren’t watching.

The silence was driving him crazy, by the time you passed the old bridge, Joel was clenching his jaw so tight it ached. “So… Ellie’s got this book,” he says. “Full of jokes. Real bad ones. Think you’d like it.”

Your posture didn’t change, you didn’t turn your head, didn’t soften your shoulders, didn’t give him anything, didn’t offer him the comfort of your voice.

“She told me one the other day. Uh… lemme think…” He frowns under his breath, tugging on the reins slightly. “Why did the scarecrow get a promotion?”

No response.

“Because he was outstandin’ in his field.”

Fine, it was a good joke, you probably would’ve laughed until you fell off your horse, if your chest didn’t still ache from all the things he’d said. You still said nothing, not even a breath of amusement. The silence that followed felt louder than the punchline.

“Get it?”

You nod, but it’s cold and mechanical, a hollow gesture. He exhales and scratches the back of his neck, a nervous tell. Joel Miller doesn’t fidget, doesn’t tell jokes, doesn’t try to ramble, but for some reason, you’d gotten him trying now. And somehow, that made it worse, because he’d only started trying after he broke something.

Another hour passes like that, the only sound was a hawk criying in the distance.Joel kicks at a rock as he walks next to his horse, it skitters off the path and disappears into the trees. “You’d have a fact about hawks, I bet,” he says. “Prob’ly somethin’ real weird, like how they mate midair or scream to scare prey. Somethin’ strange like that.”

He says it like a joke, but his voice is low, almost uncertain. Still no answer from you, you don’t even look at him, not once. His attempts at small talk were pathetic, really. Painfully awkward, it was obvious how much he sucked at trying to make light conversation, the words didn’t flow, it didn’t come naturally to him like it did to you. Joel wasn’t built for that, he was built for silence, for scowls and short commands.

He’s grasping now, and he knows it, but he keeps going anyway. “Or frogs. You always liked frogs, right? Ain’t heard a goddamn frog fact in days. ’M startin’ to worry.”

Still nothing, just the steady rhythm of the horse’s hoofs in the snow, your silence tucked tight around you like your coat.

You eat lunch in silence by a half-frozen stream. Joel sits across from you, he tries not to stare, but fails. Your head is down, shoulders hunched a little from the cold, or maybe from something else. You chew on a protein bar and look out at the trees, Joel doesn’t even bother unpacking his own food.

And suddenly, he was starting to get pissed at your silence. Why were you acting like this? Like a little girl throwing a tantrum. That’s what it felt like, that’s what he wanted to call it, but it wasn’t, he knew it wasn’t. Still, the frustration built. Yes, maybe he’d said something a little cruel, maybe he hadn’t meant it to sound like that, maybe he didn’t know how to say things right, but goddamn, did you have to stay so quiet? Did you have to make him feel like this? Like every second you didn’t speak was a punishment he couldn’t bear.

“Alright, enough.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You proved your point,” he said gruffly. His tone was sharp, like he was the one who’d been wronged. “You’re mad. I get it.”

“I’m not mad,” you said, and God, your voice was quiet and so empty.

“So you’re just gonna stay quiet this whole damn time?” he muttered, the words sounding more bitter than he intended.

You glanced over at him. Not angry, just… tired. “Figured you’d like that.”

He scowled. “Didn’t say that.”

He was so stubborn he couldn’t even own the words that came out of his mouth just a few days ago. Couldn’t admit them.

“You did, actually. You told me to shut the hell up, remember?” you said, glancing ahead again. Your voice didn’t shake, you weren’t accusing him, just repeating the facts, it was the truth, he’d said that. “Said you couldn’t stand the sound of my voice. So I’m doing you a favor.”

Joel muttered something under his breath, it sounded like a curse, or maybe it was your name. You didn’t know, didn’t catch it, and sure as hell didn’t ask him to repeat it. You weren’t being dramatic. You weren’t sulking or giving him the cold shoulder on purpose. You were just… sad, quiet in the way people get when they’ve decided they’re not allowed to take up space anymore, like you’d tucked yourself into some small corner of the world, somewhere less inconvenient. And Joel had done that to you, he still remembered exactly how you’d looked when he snapped, the flicker behind your eyes, that small, tight smile, how fast you’d folded yourself in.

“Y’know I didn’t mean it,” he muttered eventually, like he didn’t really want to hear himself say it.

You didn’t look at him. “Yeah, you did.”

“I was just—”

“Tired. I know. Had a bad day or whatever other excuse, didn’t want to hear me rambling.” You didn’t say it bitterly, just plainly, like a fact you’d finally accepted. You didn’t care about any excuse he might have for treating you like that. Honestly, it’d be easier if he just owned it, if he admitted outright that he hated you. That was the part that hurt the most, how honest he’d sounded. Because you liked hanging around Joel, even if he never said much, you still enjoyed taking up the same space as he did, telling him about your dreams, about your past, and knowing he couldn’t even stand being around you completely broke you.

Joel exhaled hard through his nose. “You’re twistin’ it.”

“No,” you said calmly. “You were clear. And I listened.” You didn’t want an apology, you didn’t want to fight, you just wanted to believe your voice mattered again. You stood again, shouldering your bag. “Let’s keep moving. I wanna get home soon.”

“Just lemme know if you ever get tired of bein’ mad at me.”

You stopped in your tracks and looked him full in the face “I’m not mad, Joel.” He blinked. “I’m just… not interested anymore.”

And that hurt him more than any yelling ever could.

You waited until just after noon, when the patrol rosters were still being finalized and Tommy was alone. He looked up when you knocked on the door frame.

“Hey,” he greeted. “Can I help you with anythin’?”

You nodded, stepping inside. Your boots felt heavier than usual, like every step toward that desk was one you didn’t really want to take. “Can I talk to you?”

“‘Course.” He sat up straighter. “What’s goin’ on?”

You hesitated, just for a second, but you knew it was the right choice to make, even if it stung, even if it felt like giving up. Then: “I want to switch partners. On patrol.”

You’d thought about it, a lot, and even though it hurt, deep inside you knew it was the right call. Being out with Joel hurt, you couldn’t stop thinking about the things he’d said to you, the look in his eyes that day, as if you were just… an inconvenience to him, something loud and annoying and in the way, something he had to tolerate, not someone he wanted to have around.

Tommy blinked. “You were with Joel, right?” His voice was careful and measured, but he wasn’t dumb, he already knew the answer. And he also knew his brother was a complicated man, especially around people. He didn’t find it difficult to imagine Joel acting like an asshole around someone like you, not when your personalities were complete opposites.

“Mhm.”

“Sure you wanna change?”

You nodded, quick, and it felt like ripping off a bandage. If you hesitated, even a second, you knew you’d unravel.

He studied your face, the way it looked down for someone who was always chatty and cheerful. Someone who used to talk so much she barely paused to breathe.

“Did Joel… said… or do somethin’?”

“No,” you said quickly, and suddenly you were trying to fight the tears back from your face. Your throat tightened, and it took everything not to blink too fast, not to wipe your face, not to let it show. “He didn’t. He just…” You shrugged. “I just think it’s not working between us.”

Tommy frowned. “Not workin’ how?”

You exhaled. “I don’t know. We’re just… really different and… I think we’d both benefit if we get assigned to different people.”

You didn’t say anything else, you didn’t trash Joel. Didn’t tell him how it felt to offer up every little spark of joy you had, only to watch it die in silence. You didn’t explain what it felt like to give joy to someone who never once gave any back. Didn’t say how it hollowed you out, how it started to feel pathetic. You didn’t explain how he had made you feel like you were too much, like you were unlovable. Like your kindness was annoying. Like your voice didn’t deserve to fill the air. You just stood there and waited for Tommy to speak.

Tommy rubbed his jaw. That soft, thoughtful gesture of his when he was trying to work through something, trying to find the right thing to say. He didn’t usually do favors for people wanting different patrol partners or better routes, he was a fair man, through and through. But there was something in the way you looked that made him relent. He felt responsible for the big asshole his brother was. And so, against his usual rules, he agreed.

“Well,” he said, standing. “I’ve got Javi lookin’ for a partner for the east routes. Bit longer than the ones you’re used to, but if you don’t mind… I’ll talk to him. You okay with that?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that works for me. Thanks, Tommy.” Your voice was polite, practiced, the kind of tone you used when you didn’t want anyone to ask follow-up questions.

Tommy gave you a quiet smile. “Joel can be... complicated. Don’t take anythin’ too personal.”

“I know.” You looked down, then away, but you didn’t believe it, not really. Joel wasn’t just complicated, and you were tired of people excusing a grown-ass man for acting like a dick.

Joel found out about the change the next morning. He walked into the stables expecting to see you there, same as always, but the space where you usually stood was empty. He slowed to a stop, frowning. “…Where is she?” he muttered, mostly to himself.

Hector, a man in his forties Joel didn’t know well, just a face from around town, appeared from behind one of the stalls. “She’s with Javi today. East patrol.”

Joel turned, shocked by this new information. “What?”

“Got reassigned yesterday,” Hector said, tightening a saddle strap without looking up. “Tommy said she asked for it. I’m with you now.”

Joel stared, feeling how his stomach dropped. Had you really gone to Tommy asking for a new partner? What had you even said? “Joel is mean and he hurt my delicate feelings, I want a new partner.” He could almost hear it in your voice, except not really, because you wouldn’t say it like that, you wouldn’t be petty. Had you really been that immature? Or was it that he’d hurt you so much you couldn’t even stand to be around him anymore? That possibility stung the worst. He’d seen the pain in your eyes, but he never thought you’d come this far, never thought you’d actually pull away for good, thought maybe you’d get past it soon enough, start talking like before, start babbling about the clouds or chickens, and Joel would once again beg for you to shut up.

“She asked for it?”

Hector finally looked up and shrugged. “That’s what I heard.”

Joel said nothing, did nothing, just stood there, in the cold morning air, until Hector called his name and forced him to move.

“What the hell, Tommy?” Joel said as soon as he came back from patrol with Hector, stepping inside his brother’s house like it was his own.

Tommy looked up from where he was peeling an apple at the counter. “What you on bout, big brother?”

“You just rearranged patrol ‘cause she asked you to? Like she’s a spoiled girl? You can’t pull that shit.” Joel’s voice was rough, irritated, and maybe a little defensive too.

“Look, Joel—” Tommy tried to explain, this reaction from Joel surprised him, why did he care so much about you changing partners? He’d assumed Joel couldn’t stand being around you.

“No. Who does she even think she is? She comes here and asks for a different partner and everyone just does what she wants like she’s—”

“Like she’s what?” Tommy asked, quieter now, with a warning in his voice.

Joel paused, he didn’t finish the sentence, didn’t want to say something he couldn’t take back.

“Look,” Tommy said again, slower this time. “I dunno what the hell went down between you two. I don’t know what you said or did to that poor girl. That’s your business.” He dropped the knife down on the cutting board with a soft clack. “But she came to me tryin’ to hide the tears in her eyes. Asked for a new partner real quiet. Wouldn’t say much, just kept lookin’ down.” He shrugged. “Javi needed one after Mikey split his ankle, so I offered her.”

Joel just shook his head and scoffed, a bitter sound, one that tried too hard to cover up the sinking guilt that had started curling in his gut.

Weeks stretched by. You liked having patrol with Javi, he was a funny guy, easy going, warm. He didn’t seem to mind how much you spoke, in fact, he always followed your conversation, he cracked jokes back at you, he’d answer all your questions with real enthusiasm, and he’d tell you about his dreams too. Made you feel like your voice wasn’t a burden, like it mattered, and it was exaclt what you needed after Joel’s words broke your spirit.

Joel saw you once, across the market, laughing softly at something Ellie said. It caught him off guard, that sound… your laugh. It was the first time he’d heard your voice in days. Another time, in the dining hall, he almost didn’t see you there, but you were sitting at a table near the back, listening to Javi talk while your eyes stayed fixed on the window. And once, the hardest of all, at the gates, you were loading your patrol pack, and Joel couldn’t help but remember, and also miss, his mornings patrolling with you.

You’d reached out again and again and again, with light and warmth and endless words, trying to pull something out of him, and all he’d ever done was push you away.

One night, he sat on his porch with a half-drained glass of whiskey and no coat on, the cold didn’t bother him, it couldn’t reach somewhere already frozen through. He stared at the street, at the place where your silhouette used to pass by some evenings, humming, talking to yourself, but now you were gone. He missed it, he missed you… And it was too late to take it all back.

The gates were already open when the horses came in. It was late, and the watch lights had already been turned on, casting long yellow shadows over the snowy ground. Joel was just walking by, just passing through, he’d just… wandered this way. Thought maybe he’d say hi to Tommy, that was the lie he told himself, he was definitely trying to run into you after your patrol shift, to look at you even if it was from afar. But when he heard the hooves, saw the horses trot in through the gate… and saw you, slouched in your saddle, with blood down your sleeve, he went still.

You weren’t crying, you weren’t panicking, but your shirt sleeve was ripped off, and there was red streaked from your bicep to your knuckles. Javi was beside you, talking, too animated, too casual, his hands moved while he spoke, like this was just another story, like you weren’t bleeding, like Joel wasn’t standing there ready to rip someone’s throat out.

Joel’s blood ran hot, his fists curled and his chest burned, something primal slammed into his ribs, roaring to life. He started moving before he knew why, his eyes locked on you like you were the only goddamn person that existed. You dismounted with a slow wince, your wound wasn’t anything life-threatening, not visibly at least, but there was a long, jagged cut along your arm.

Joel pushed past two people who were in his way, his shoulders slamming without apology, and stormed straight for Javi like he was seconds away from ripping his head off his body.

“The fuck happened out there?” he snapped, looking at him like he wanted to eat him alive.

Javi turned, surprised by Joel’s outburst. “I don’t know man, we were cool and suddenly there’s like a dozen runners coming out of nowhere. It was siiiick.”

Joel’s chest rose and fell like he’d just run a marathon. “She’s bleedin’.” He pointed at you like it physically hurt, like the blood on your arm was on his hands. “What the fuck happened?” He said again, as if Javi’s explanation hadn’t been good enough.

“I told you, some runners attacked us,” Javi said, frowning at Joel’s insistence. “She tripped and cut her arm with some glass from a broken window. She’s fine.”

“She ain’t fine!” Joel’s voice cracked through the air and people turned. The guards, the stablehands, two kids passing by with a bucket of feed. Even you stopped, still holding your reins. Joel wasn’t a man known for yelling, not like this, not unless someone was already dead or dying. And yet here he was, vibrating with fury, his eyes locked on Javi like he was seconds from breaking something… or someone.

Joel stepped closer to him. “You’re s’posed to watch her,” he said darkly. Pissed at Javi but also pissed at himself for not being there to protect you. “That’s your goddamn job. Makin’ sure she’s okay.”

Javi scowled, Joel was really getting on his nerves with all this complaining, trying to put the blame on him for an accident that was not out of the ordinary during patrol rounds. “Hey. Don’t come at me like that, man. She’s not a damn child. She can protect herself too.”

Joel’s face twisted in anger. He hates Javi for not doing something more to help you, but he also hated him more for being the one taking the place Joel used to have next to you. “Maybe, but she ain’t you. She’s not built like a fuckin’ tank. She’s small. You should’ve had her back.”

Javi took a step forward. “You weren’t there, man. You don’t know what the hell went down. She handled herself just fine.”

“Then why the hell is she the one comin’ home bleedin’ ‘stead of you?”

“Joel,” you said, sharp now, feeling like you needed to intervene before this got out of hand. Your voice cut the air like a knife. “Stop.”

Joel fully ignored you, just kept looking at Javi. “Maybe if this asshole—“

“Hey!” Javi barked, who the fuck Joel Miller thought he was to talk to him like that? “Back the fuck off. You don’t talk to me like that.”

“No, you listen to me, you little—”

“What the fuck is your problem, dude? There was nothing I could do.” Javi tried to explain himself again, trying to get that old stubborn man to understand it.

“THERE’S ALWAYS SOMETHIN’ YOU CAN DO.” Joel straight-up yelled, it wasn’t just anger now, it was fear. Fury and guilt and panic, all knotted together.

The shouting echoed, everyone was staring now, a dozen half-frozen faces looking between them like something might snap, like they were about to watch some street fight. And they almost did, Joel’s shoulders were tight, his fists trembling at his sides, Javi was standing his ground, his chest puffed, ready to throw the first punch if he needed to.

And you? You stepped forward, planting yourself between them like a barrier between the two big man. “Come on, Javi,” you said firmly, not leaving any room for argument. “Let’s go.”

Joel’s jaw clenched like it might crack any second now. Where you really siding with Javi on this? With the guy that was supposed to protect you but failed? “You don’t have to leave with him.”

You turned to him. “Yes. I do.” Your voice didn’t rise, it was just flat and final.

Joel stared at you, at your pale cheeks, at the cut at your temple and the blood on your arm. Blood he hadn’t cleaned, wound he hadn’t checked, wound that was there because he hadn’t been around to protect you. There was so much anger in your eyes, like you couldn’t believe he had the nerve to care now. You were already walking away with your head high, Javi gave Joel a final glare and followed you, his presence behind you was loud and loyal, like a dog who knew where home was.

And Joel stood there, fists still curled, chest heaving, surrounded by silence, staring at the empty space you’d just walked out of. No one spoke, no one dared, not with the way Joel’s hands were shaking. Not until Tommy came walking up from the far side of the barn and muttered under his breath, “Jesus Christ. What the hell’s goin’ on with you?”

"It's goddamn Javi. He's an idiot, he—"

“Don’t bullshit me, Joel. What was that? That wasn’t about Javi.”

“Yes. It sure was. Stupid kid can’t watch his flank. He’s gonna end up gettin’ someone killed.”

“Joel, you can’t lie to me. I know it’s about her.”

“It ain’t about her. She’s got nothin’ to do with—” He tried to lie, but Tommy knew him too well, he could tell when his brother was lying.

Tommy stepped closer, it felt familiar in the way only someone who’s known Joel his whole life can be. “Listen, man. I get it. She’s bright. She talks a lot. Got that energy that makes people wanna stay near her.” Joel’s jaw flexed, a muscle twitching from holding back too much, too many feelings, too many emotions he’d tried hard for years to suppress, but now they were coming out all at once. “But whatever’s goin’ on,” Tommy continued calmly, annoyingly gentle even, “you gotta figure it out. ‘Cause this whole hot-cold act? It’s not workin’. Not for you. Not for her.”

“Ain’t an act.” Joel tried to excuse himself, almost defensively. The words tasted strange in his mouth, hell, he didn’t even know what this was all about. He thought he hated you, he’d told himself that, over and over. Repeated it like a prayer every single morning he had to spend patrolling with you, he’d convinced himself that he’d rather have a clicker come and bite him in the neck than listen to another second of your voice… your voice that never shut up, your voice that filled the silence with sunshine and facts and nonsense and life. But now? Now he was dying to hear your voice again, now he was starting to think that maybe… maybe he liked you. Maybe he liked the way your nose scrunched up when you talked about animals, maybe he liked the way you laughed at your own bad jokes, maybe he liked the way you made everything feel less cold. Maybe he’d just been a goddamn coward.

Tommy didn’t flinch. “Then that’s worse.” The silence that followed was thick. “What is it? Between her and you. Be real.”

Joel looked away again, like it physically hurt him to say it. He couldn’t even admit it to his own brother, hell, he couldn’t even admit it to himself, couldn’t even say the words: ‘I like her’ out loud. “It’s nothin’.”

Tommy stared, Joel was too much of a stubborn, emotionally-constipated man than he even remembered him being. “You gonna stand here and lie to my face?”

“There ain’t no goddamn deal,” Joel snapped, angry at the world for trying so hard to get him to admit his feeling for you. “I patrolled with her a few times. Thassit.”

Tommy was not buying a single word. “You don’t scream at someone’s partner like that after they get hurt unless there’s a reason behind it, Joel.”

“I didn’t scream—”

“You lost your goddamn mind.”

Joel looked down at his hands. They were clenched, he realized, like he’d been bracing for a punch that never came. “I am…” he exhaled roughly, and almost inaudible said, “upset.” That was as close as he could get to talk about his feelings out loud.

“Right. And ’m the Pope.” Tommy moved closer now, like approaching a wounded animal. “Y’like her. Don’tcha?” Joel didn’t respond, he let the silence be the confirmation of his feelings toward you. “You care bout her. You ever told her that?”

Joel gave a bitter little laugh. “You think she’d wanna hear that from me?”

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “You ever ask?”

“Believe me, she don’t want anythin’ to do with me.”

“Maybe cause you act like an asshole every time she gets close.” Tommy said, Joel didn’t flinch, he’d been expecting that one, he deserved worse after how goddamn cruel he’d been with you. “You pushed her away, Joel. And then you got pissed when she let go.”

Joel ran a hand through his hair, the gesture was restless, almost violent, like he was trying to rip the thought of you out of his skull. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”

“Well, it did,” Tommy said. “She asked to stop patrollin’ with you. That’s a big step. That girl didn’t seem the type to give up on people.” Joel swallowed hard and Tommy sighed. “So ’m gonna ask one more time. Not as your brother, as someone who watched you lose your goddamn mind when you saw her come back bleedin’.”

Joel looked up at that, Tommy met his eyes. “What’s the deal with her?”

Joel exhaled slowly, like it cost him something. “I dunno,” he said. “I don’t know what it is. I just…” His voice tightened. “She was always talkin’. Always smilin’. Like it didn’t matter how cold it was, like she didn’t know the world we live in.” Tommy waited, Joel rubbed at the back of his neck. “I didn’t know what to do with that,” he admitted. “Didn’t think I deserved to have it pointed at me.”

“You mean her attention?”

“I mean her.” It was the most honest thing Joel had said in months.

Tommy’s gaze softened. “Joel…”

“She was better off. With someone who could…” Joel shook his head. “Smile back.” He couldn’t even picture it, himself smiling at you like you did at him, like he meant it, like he deserved it.

They stood in silence, and Tommy let out a long breath. “Well, she ain’t smilin’ much these days.” Joel didn’t move or speak, just stared at the dirt like he could dig a hole and bury this whole damn mess. Tommy clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t gotta fix it all at once. But maybe stop pretendin’ it don’t exist.”

That night, you sat on your bed. The room was quiet, too quiet, Javi had offered to walk you home, but you told him you were fine, and you weren’t lying, not really. It wasn’t the pain that hurt, not the cut, not the dull throbbing in your arm or the tender spot blooming purple on your ribs. It was the sound of Joel’s voice cracking through the cold like it suddenly mattered, like your well-being was important now that the damage wasn’t his fault. Where was that fire when you’d gone mute for days? When your eyes welled up mid-patrol and you turned away so he wouldn’t see? Where was that protectiveness when you’d been swallowed by quiet and too afraid to speak again? Where was he? Not when you needed him. He couldn’t protect you from a wound he’d already made, and no amount of yelling at Javi would change that. He could shout all he wanted now, full of heat and anger, but it was too late. The damage was done in the stillness, in the look he didn’t give you, in the joke he tried to tell when you were already fading. You didn’t need him to defend you now, you needed him then.

Joel didn’t sleep. He sat at the window with a half-empty bottle, watching the streets go dar, watching the world turn quiet while something inside his brain stayed loud. Not because you were hurt, not even because of Javi, but because for one brief second, when he saw the blood on your skin, his heart stopped, and then it shattered. It wasn’t the cut, it was you, with blood on your face and standing on your own two feet, not needing him, not even looking at him. And the aching realization that he didn’t know you anymore, that he’d pushed you away, bit by bit, and word by cold word. And now? Someone else got to stand beside you, someone else got your trust, your time. Someone else got to see you bruised and brave and trying, and Joel just watched from the damn gate like a stranger, like someone who used to matter.

The Tipsy Bison was loud on the night of your birthday. One of your friends had brought a guitar, someone else was dancing badly after too many shots, and there was a small cake waiting on the table. You were in the center of the room, halfway through a funny story, your hands flying as you animated something absurd, probably patrol-related, probably exaggerated, probably funny as hell because everyone around you was howling. At least that was what Joel thought. He’d come for one drink, maybe two, say hi to a few people, show his face so Tommy would stop nagging him about not leaving his house. That was what the night was supposed to be like, but then he walked in, and he saw you, and everything stopped.

Javi was doubled over, your friend Annie had her hand on your shoulder, laughing so hard she spilled beer down her sleeve, someone at the next table leaned in just to hear more of your story. And you? You were shining. Your mouth was open wide with laughter, your cheeks were flushed from whiskey and heat, your voice bouncing through the bar like music. That fire Joel thought he’d snuffed out was back.

He watched from the far corner of the room, you wore a deep green sweater that made your eyes too bright, and your hair was half-tucked behind your ear, messy from dancing. There was a thin scar just beneath your cheekbone now, probably from the bad patrol a few weeks back, but it only made you look prettier. And Joel hated how long it had been since he saw you like this, he hated that you could glow again and he wasn’t part of it.

Someone toasted you. You rolled your eyes but raised your glass anyway.

“To her loud mouth,” one of your friend said.

“To her bad jokes,” someone else added.

You laughed and clinked your glass against theirs. “To being a pain in the ass for one more year.”

The whole table cheered and Joel’s chest hurt, because there was nothing in this world he desired more than to be there celebrating next to you.

You stood to stretch at one point, hands over your head, grinning as the music shifted. Javi grabbed your hand and spun you clumsily in place, it wasn’t a real dance, just a drunken sway. You laughed and shoved him off, swatting his shoulder. And Joel gripped the edge of the bar like it might keep him grounded, that used to be his spot beside you. His partner, his patrol, his quiet moments in the woods, listening to you ramble. He threw it away, and now you were spinning, tipsy and bright and surrounded by people who wanted you. People who didn’t flinch when you reached out, who didn’t push you away.

“Y’alright?” the bartender asked him. Joel blinked, realized his glass was still full, he nodded stiffly. “Birthday crowd,” the guy said. “She bring the whole damn town in with her.”

Joel didn’t respond. Didn’t say: She used to talk to just me for hours, she used to walk beside me and hum under her breath, she used to ask me questions just to fill the silence... and now she laughs like I was never there at all. He just gave a tight nod and turned away from the bar. You didn’t see him, not at all. You were too busy dancing, talking, drinking… too busy living.

Joel was walking home, hands in his coat pockets, boots scuffing snow. He’d tried to finish his drink but couldn’t, and seeing you there having fun with your friends had become unbearable, so he decided to call it a night. But then he saw you, alone, laughing softly at nothing. You were half a block ahead of him, your coat was open, your scarf crooked, you had a half-empty bottle in one hand while your arms stretched out like you were trying to balance on an invisible beam. You were talking to yourself, to the moon up in the sky, maybe to some cricket you’d encounter along the way. To him, when you turned and saw him in the middle of the street.

“Ohhh my god,” you said, grinning. “Look everyone! It’s Joel Miller.”

He blinked. “You drunk?” What an stupid question. he

“Extremely.” You walked toward him with uneven steps. “What are you doing out? You stalking me? Bit forward for you, cowboy.”

Joel sighed. “Jesus.”

You stopped in front of him and squinted. “Good evening to you too, Mr. Miller. You look awfully serious tonight.”

“I always look serious.”

You nodded solemnly. “True. That’s your whole vibe. You should try smiling more often, you got nice lips. Not that I noticed, of course.”

Joel looked at you, really looked, for the first time in what felt like months. You were flushed from the cold and the whiskey, and your eyes looked brighter than usual, your lips pink and chapped from the wind. “It’s your birthday,” he said softly.

“OH MY GOD, you’re right. It’s my birthday!” You grinned, as if you’d forgotten it after too many drinks. “Wait, how did you know?”

“Saw you and your friends at the bar.”

You took another swig from the bottle. “I’m a year older now. Can you believe that? I made it this far. How crazy is that?” He didn’t respond. “I used to think I’d die young,” you said casually. “Something poetic. Falling off a roof trying to rescue a cat or some shit.”

Joel frowned. “That ain’t poetic. That’s stupid.”

You burst out laughing. “Okay, fair. But you get the idea.” He sighed, and you rocked back on your heels. “Anyway. Happy birthday to me.”

“Happy birthday,” he murmured.

You smiled, wide and tired. “Well, thank you very much, Joel Miller.” Your started walking again, slow and wobbly, and Joel moved to follow. “You don’t gotta walk me home,” you said.

“I know.”

“Let me guess… you’re gonna anyway.”

He didn’t respond, but you talked the whole walk, like the old times, probably because you were too drunk to remember, or to care, that you were still angry and hurt. You talked about the music at the Tipsy Bison, about how your friend Annie cheated at darts, about how someone made you a cake with candles, actual candles, and you cried for like six seconds over it. Joel just listened, he didn’t speak unless you asked him something, he didn’t interrupt you, just walked beside you in the dark, feeling blessed to hear your voice once again. You tripped on a rock at one point and he reached for your elbow, you let him touch you just for a second, then kept walking.

“I missed you,” you said suddenly. Joel looked at you but you didn’t look back. “I mean,” you continued, “not that we were ever, like, friends. Or whatever. I know you’re not exactly a fan of… people. Pretty sure you hate me.” Joel stayed quiet. “But still, I missed you. It was weird not talking to you.”

Joel swallowed. “You stopped talkin’ to me.”

“You told me my voice annoyed you. And that you didn’t care about anything I said,” you said without any anger behind your voice. “What was I supposed to do, Joel?”

He didn’t answer, you stopped walking and he stopped too. You looked up at him, suddenly a little less drunk, like the chill had sobered you. “Why did you say that?” you asked quietly.

Joel blinked. “Say what?”

“That I talk too much. That I was annoying. That I wasn’t… enough… Was I really that insufferable?”

He frowned, fuck, you were kicking him while he was on the ground. “I didn’t say you weren’t enough.”

“You said worse.”

He inhaled sharply. “You were pushin’. Always askin’ things I didn’t want to answer. Talkin’ when I needed quiet. I tried givin’ you signals but you didn’t know how to stop.”

“I didn’t want to stop,” you said. “That’s the difference. I didn’t want to stop cause I enjoyed talking to you” Joel stared, but you looked away, ashamed, and for the first time, your voice dropped. “I spent my whole life being told I was too much. Too loud. Too happy. Too intense. I always thought… maybe the right person wouldn’t mind it.”

Joel’s throat went dry. Did you really think he was the right person? Him? An old, grumpy, broken-down man? That was what you saw for yourself? That was what you aspired to? You, with your bright eyes and all that goddamn sunshine in your voice, thought he was it? You couldn’t be serious.

“I liked you,” you added softly. “I didn’t think you’d like me back or anything,” you continued. “But I thought you didn’t hate me. I thought you… tolerated me. Cared a little, maybe.”

He took a step toward you. “I did—”

You held up your hand to stop him there. “And then you snapped. Like I was a burden. Like I was some stupid, useless little thing you had to drag around on your boot like mud.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“But that’s how it felt. I wasn’t pissed,” you said. “I was hurt. Maybe you thought it was the same thing cause you have the emotional range of a teaspoon. But it’s not the same thing.”

There was a big silence, just the wind in the trees was heard. And Joel, stuck between wanting to apologize and not knowing how. “’M sorry,” he said finally. “I shouldn’t have said those things,” he continued. “Not like that. Not to you.”

This time it was you who didn’t answer.

“I was… mean. For no reason. You didn’t deserve that.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You were the first person in a long time who—” He paused. “Who made me forget. How bad things were. Just for a minute.” Joel exhaled. “I didn’t know what to do with that. And for the record, I don’t hate you, I never did.”

“I don’t need you to explain,” you said. “You already did the damage. And I already survived it. It’s all good, Joel. No hard feelings."

Joel looked like he’d been hit. You turned, started walking again and he followed. You didn’t say another word the rest of the way until you stopped in front of your porch, one foot on the bottom step, swaying a little, maybe from the alcohol in your body.

“I should go to bed,” you said, and Joel nodded. “Thanks for walking me.”

He gave a tight nod again. “Yeah. Don’t mention it.”

You turned, made it up two steps, then paused. Without looking back, you said: “You know I never wanted you to like me back, right?”

Joel blinked. “What?”

“I didn’t expect that. I wasn’t asking for anything. I just… liked the way it felt, being around you, making you smile sometimes... even if it was just a grunt. And when that stopped… that hurt worse than a bullet. And I got shot once, so I know what I’m talking about. I’d tell you the story but I doubt you’d be interested.”

You should’ve gone inside, the door was already open, you could feel the heat of your living room escaping into the cold night air. Your limbs were buzzing with too much whiskey and too many words said, but Joel was still standing there, and your body was still turned toward him.

He shifted on his feet and glanced up at you with a slight squint. “How,” he said with caution, asking the question that had been killing him inside. “How’s patrol goin’ with Javi?”

You blinked and then snorted. Oh, he had some nerve asking that. You leaned against the railing, smiling just enough to hurt him. “It’s great. Javi doesn’t complain when I talk too much, and he doesn’t tell me to shut the hell up. So that makes him a better partner than you already.”

Joel winced, and you let him suffer for a bit. He nodded once, and then, after a long moment, his voice came out carefully neutral. “You and Javi…?”

“Me and Javi what?” you asked him, arching your brows.

“Are you two a thing or…?” he said, trying to appear unfazed, like he didn’t care about the answer, even if internally, he was praying you’d say no. His voice was tight, casual in the way someone pretends not to be holding their breath.

“A thing? What do you mean?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“Y’know what ’m talkin’ about,” he muttered, eyes flicking to the side like he wished he hadn’t opened his mouth.

Then sudden realization hit you. Your eyes went wide. “OH MY GOD, NO!” He blinked startled, and you smiled wider. “Javi’s gay. Like, suuuper gay.”

You watched it happen in real time, the way his jaw relaxed just slightly, the way his shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch, like a thread pulled too tight had finally been cut.

“Oh,” he said.

“Yeah, like reeeaally into guys. I mean, like, if we were both naked he’d probably be checking you out and ignoring me,” you chuckled, amused now, watching color bloom subtly in his cheeks. Joel didn’t say anything, he just felt relieved, so stupidly relieved it made his chest ache. “Your gay-dar is super off, Joel. You should get it checked,” you teased with a grin.

He didn’t respond, just grunted, shifting his weight, clearly trying not to smile. You tilted your head. “Why did you ask?”

Joel didn’t answer, he didn’t need to. You could see it all in his face… the question he didn’t ask, the way his eyes flicked over you like he couldn’t help it, like he was trying to memorize you before he lost his nerve.

You took a step closer and Joel didn’t move, or look away. Your voice was soft now. “Did you think he was my type?”

Joel’s voice came slow. “I didn’t know if you had a type.”

You smiled. “I didn’t either.” Another pause. “But now I think I might have a thing for older guys. The grumpy type. The ones who break your heart without even meaning to.”

You leaned against the porch railing again, closer now, and Joel stepped up. His hand came to rest on the railing beside you, not touching you yet, but near. You looked up at him, and found his eyes already on you. You stared at each other, and then he moved, not fast or clumsy, he just leaned in, slowly, like a man who’d been thinking about it for weeks, like a man who didn’t believe he’d ever get a second chance if he didn’t act now.

And when his mouth met yours? It was quiet and warm, like he was apologizing for all the things he said with that same mouth before... that mouth who’d hurt you in the past was now trying to put the pieces of you back together. You didn’t pull back or freeze, you just let it happen, let your eyes slip closed, let your hands curl against his flannel shirt… let yourself feel him.

It wasn’t rushed, it wasn’t needy or desperate, it was gentle like he was terrified he might break you, and maybe that was the part that undid you most, that this man, this gruff, stubborn, often infuriating man, was finally treating you like something precious. His hand came up slow, fingers brushing along your jaw before sliding to the back of your neck, you felt his thumb at your pulse point, like he was grounding himself in the fact that you were real, that this was happening.

When he finally pulled back, just inches in between you two, his voice was the softest it had ever been.

“Goodnight, birthday girl.”

You looked up at him, dazed. He stepped back and walked off your porch without another word, and you stood there like you’d been struck, watching him walk away, still swaying slightly from the whiskey, still buzzing from the feel of his mouth on yours, still trying to catch your breath. Joel Miller was already halfway down the walk. You watched him go, one step, two, three.

“HEY!” you shouted.

He didn’t stop walking, just turned back over his shoulder, eyes catching yours for a second, that big-ass smile stretched across his face.

“Joel Miller, you can’t do that!”

He slowed, but kept walking away anyway. “Already did it.”

“No! You can’t— You can’t do that and walk away!” Your voice cracked, but there was no real anger behind it, just amusement, and maybe a little frustration, because he’d left you hungry for more. “You can’t kiss me and run away like a coward!”

“Sweet dreams, birthday girl.” He replied teasingly with that same grin still painted on his face. The street was empty, the windows all dark, it was just you and him and the sound of your own heart thudding against your ribs.

“You better come back here and finish what you started, Joel Miller.” You tried to sound dangerous and commanding, but the look of a schoolgirl in love on your face wasn’t helping you.

He offered you one last smile before turning around and walking away. It was faint, like he didn’t have the right to give you more than that. Maybe this was all that was meant to happen tonight, but it sure as hell meant something for both of you. He felt it in his chest as he walked away, you felt it in your throat as you watched him go. And you wondered what would happen the next time you saw him, if he’d pretend nothing happened, or if he’d look at you the way he did when he had his lips on yours.

Join my tag list!!

A/N: Wraaaah, I’ve had this idea bouncing around in my head for a while, and I finally sat down and wrote the first chapter! Please, please, please let me know what you think🥹 I’m writing a second part soon (with some smut in it😮‍💨).

This is one of the fics I’ve poured the most love into, I swear I’ve edited it a thousand times to make sure it’s the best it can be. I have so many more ideas for these two in the future, so please, I’d really love to know what you think!

As always, a huge thank you for your support🩷

tags: @unforgivemn @puduvallee @gorzelnia-blog @conrzd @applebloom928 @glitterspark @imjustaprettyyprincess @mani-pedro @jettia @sunnyssimming @sethell @thescxrpio @cowboylikejoha @dugiioh @crimsonxcobra @twigleektribute23 @alexxavicry @thievin-stealing @tearsweetenedtea @serenity-1221 @lover-of-books-and-tea @joelsgoodgirl @nightbornangel @millersweetheart @spacemooi @bbyanarchist @nixiaw @dlwrish @yeswhale456 @mxyjailer @uncassettodiricordi @looking1016 @Ghostlover19 @sofisweb @lanasdolll @smvtwitchmiller @bolitadesol

dividers by: @/thecutestgrotto

[sethell]

nurse's office ♡

➤ summary: Even doctors need check-ups, so you indulge your boyfriend and put on a sexy nurse costume. (18+)

➤ pairing: trafalgar law x afab!reader

➤ word count: 3.1k

➤ warnings: switch!law, modern AU, nurse-patient roleplay, praise kink, established relationship, fluff, silly porn dialogue, fem reader

➤ notes: i LOVE law with all my heart but i have such a hard time writing him.... hopefully this turned out okay and it's accurate to his character :')

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

When you returned to your apartment after work, the lights were on and a familiar black trench coat hung in the entrance, but the coat’s owner was nowhere in sight. You called his name as you slipped off your shoes and received no response. 

A muffled noise coming from your shared bedroom caught your attention.

Curious, you crept through the living room and creaked open the door just enough to slip inside. Law sat at his desk in the dark with his back turned away from you. Completely focused on his dimmed laptop screen with headphones plugged in and unaware of your presence. A smile spread across your face when you noticed what he was watching.

A busty brunette woman in an incredibly cliché nurse outfit batted her fake eyelashes at the camera as she deep-throated her patient’s dick. Your boyfriend’s inked hand rose up and down his own cock, eyes half-lidded and biting his lip to attempt to stifle his throaty groans. When you were literally right behind him, you leaned over his shoulder to read the video title out loud. “‘The Best Prescription In Town Is A Dose Of This Naughty Nurse’s Pussy’?”

Law’s entire body went cold.

“I-It’s not what it looks like!” He panicked, whipping his head towards you and accidentally ripping his headphones cord out of the jack. Exaggerated and unrealistic slurping sounds, accompanied by the male actor’s moans, started playing at full volume. Law forgot how his typically agile fingers worked as he rushed to pause the video. He was ready to diagnose himself with a heart attack.

Your eyes flickered to the bottle of lube and box of tissues beside his laptop. “I think it’s exactly what it looks like.”

“No, I…” Embarrassment flooded his veins and he scrambled for a logical explanation. You were clearly amused instead of upset, but that didn’t deter him. Steeling his nerves, your boyfriend cleared his throat and prayed his voice didn’t shake. “I wanted to see how accurate this was, but it’s a disgusting mockery of nurses. This is completely inappropriate in a real hospital.”

“Well, duh,” you chuckled and rolled your eyes. You leaned closer to study the other tabs open in his incognito mode browser. One search for ‘hot nurse’ and another for ‘nurse fucks patient’. A second video titled ‘Nursing Student Gives Penis Exam’. A spark ignited in you. “Law, is this what you’re into?”

He stayed silent and let his head fall down in shame – which only directed your gaze to his quickly softening dick – as he mumbled a timid apology.

“Oh, baby, you have nothing to apologize for.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and nuzzled against his neck. “Please don’t be embarrassed, I genuinely wanna know what turns you on. I won’t judge, I promise.”

“You’re prettier than everyone in these videos,” was his only response. He was such a sweetheart without even trying. 

Even though you’d been together for quite a while, Law still had a hard time discussing his kinks. The man had a neurotic need to protect his innermost thoughts and thick iron walls guarding every part of his mind. It took a lot of time and patience, but you’d managed to break down most of his barriers. You wanted him to trust you and feel comfortable around you; having fun in the bedroom was just a bonus. 

Pressing your lips to his ear, you teasingly whispered, “I can buy a nurse costume, you know.”

“Huh? Are you serious?!” Wide gray eyes met yours, a flurry of emotions overtaking his stressed-out expression.

“Of course! I’ll look for a cute one right now.” You pulled out your phone, pausing before opening your browser to bat your eyelashes and say, “Only if you want me to.”

“I – I…” Law fumbled for words, unable to keep up with the thoughts racing through his brain. After a moment of hesitation, he licked his dry lips and hastily leaned over to look at your screen. “Let me see the options.”

The costume was set to arrive in 3-4 business days, which gave you and Law plenty of time to talk and plan. Both of you discussed what you wanted out of the scenario and what you each felt comfortable doing. You promised Law you’d do actual research by watching nurse pornos in order to imitate them, and he swore to never correct you mid-scene with his accurate medical knowledge. 

His steely eyes lit up when he spoke and made your heart flutter with love. As an accomplished surgeon, he took care of countless patients every day – of course he wanted someone to do the same for him. Nothing was sexier than seeing Law turn to putty in your hands, happily melting into your protection.

The fateful night arrived with a flimsy package at your front door.

Law sat on the couch in the ‘waiting room’ (also known as the living room), anxiously rubbing the letters tattooed on his knuckles and bouncing his legs. His throat was parched, his heart was racing, and his dick was already getting hard.

His jaw dropped when you opened the bedroom door – no, your office. The tight white dress hugged your body perfectly, accentuating all of your best features. Firetruck red stripes lined the sleeves and collar, and a prominent zipper ran all the way down the front. Your boobs were spilling out of the low-cut top and the skirt barely covered your upper thighs. A dainty white hat sat atop your head, sporting a white cross in a red circle that matched the one on your breast pocket. The look was complete with thigh-high white stockings, lacy crimson lingerie, Law’s real stethoscope around your neck, and a notebook and pen in your hand.

“Trafalgar Law?” You called out coquettishly.

His excited cock tried to answer for him, but he took a deep breath and nodded. “T-That’s me.”

With an overly sweet grin, you beckoned him into the room. “It’s time for your appointment. Follow me.” 

Previously arranged pillows on the bed mimicked the half-upright position of a medical chair. Law couldn’t look away from you as he shuffled towards his ‘exam table’, sitting down so his legs hung off the edge. You placed a gentle hand under his scruffy chin, his gaze flickering between your face and your tits. 

“Now, what seems to be the problem?”

Law didn’t have the confidence (nor the acting ability) to answer ‘my dick’ the way a pornstar would. So he settled for, “I’m not sure, miss. Maybe… give me a physical?”

“Ooh, a full body inspection,” you giggled, putting on a pair of hospital-grade latex gloves. “Please remove your shirt and lie on your back.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Only my shirt?”

Biting back a laugh, you responded, “Let’s take it one step at a time, okay?” 

Your boyfriend nodded obediently, neatly folding his canary yellow t-shirt beside him on the bed. It didn’t matter how often you saw his heavily tattooed chest – you were in awe of it every time. You opened your notebook, humming in mock contemplation and scribbling nonsense on a blank page in an imitation of Law’s terrible doctor handwriting. He tried to peek at what you were doing, but you quickly shut the cover. 

“Just relax, I’ll take care of you,” you cooed with a gentle smile and ruffled his hair.

He apologized curtly and settled back into a comfortable reclined position. Running your fingers along his jawline, you trailed your touch down the column of his throat and across his collarbones. Gently massaging his shoulders and feeling the tense muscles loosen as he let out a content sigh. You were unable to resist tracing the massive inked heart on his torso as you’d done so many times, lightly trailing your pointer finger across its flames and swirls and sending pleasant tingles throughout his body.

Repeating the action on his matching bicep tattoos, you cheekily stated, “Such strong muscles. Your girlfriend is a lucky woman.”

He chuckled, finally beginning to relax into his role. “You have no idea.”

“Let me check your heartbeat.” Not even bothering to put the stethoscope in your ears, you ran the cold chestpiece against Law’s nipples, forcing a pretty hiss from his lips. Rubbing circles atop them until both were stiff peaks, then teasingly rolling them between your fingertips until he was flushed and panting. 

Satisfied with his worked-up state, you pulled away to write more nonsense in the notebook. Your boyfriend furrowed his eyebrows. “Seriously, what the hell are you writing?”

“Please let me do my job, Mr. Trafalgar.” You firmly smacked the end of your pen against one of his nipples. The sudden display of authority made his cock twitch. 

You caressed his defined abdomen muscles, moving lower down his gorgeous body and brushed over his dark happy trail. 

“Your chest seems fine, which means…” You trailed off and tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants. Law’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed in anticipation, lifting his hips to help you slide down his sweats and boxers underneath. 

His rock-hard dick sprung free gratefully, angry red and twitching in excitement. You’d never seen him get this worked up so quickly – it made your cunt ache.

“Well, this is clearly the issue! Poor thing, you must feel so lightheaded from all the blood flowing down here.” You cooed, wiping his dark bangs away from his eyes in mock comfort. “I have to relieve this pressure or else the swelling won’t go down.”

“H-How will you–“ Law’s cheeky question was cut off by a groan when you curled your fingers around the thick base of his cock. Just one stroke pushed out several beads of pearly precum from his pretty tip. The synthetic softness of latex gloves felt strange against such a sensitive part of him, but it made the scenario extra immersive. 

“I need to milk you dry. Is that okay with you, Mr. Trafalgar?” 

Law nodded eagerly, too overstimulated to consent with words. He’d heard that phrase so many times in his videos. Your chest swelled with pride as you admired his submissive state. It wasn’t easy for your boyfriend to relinquish control to you during sex – no matter how much he wanted to – but he looked like he would die for you at that moment. 

You swung your leg over his body to straddle his upper thighs, cunt inches away from where he needed it. The movement caused your skirt to ride up and reveal a peek of your lacy panties. Law gulped when he noticed your soft thighs bulging around the elastic band of your stockings. 

Using both hands, you began to jerk him off with slow and deliberate movements. Dragging your palms from the base to the head with the perfect amount of pressure, making sure to trace the sensitive vein on the underside. A steady stream of translucent fluid dribbled out, the length pulsing and begging for more in your grasp. You paused to spit on his tip for added lubrication and rubbed it into his heated skin. 

Law was glad you were fixated on his cock rather than his face. He knew he looked pathetic. Barely three minutes had passed and he was embarrassingly close to cumming (though he was proud of himself for not bursting in his pants the moment you emerged in your costume). His abdomen muscles were wound tight and his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. Steely gray eyes never left your body, your hands, almost too afraid to blink. 

When you fondled his heavy balls, his orgasm hit him like a truck. Law threw his head against the pillow and cried out, painting white streaks across your baby blue gloves. You grinned watching your boyfriend heaving for air, finally meeting his gaze when you swiped your tongue across a thick glob of cum on your thumb. He watched dazedly as you wiped the rest of his spend off on your skirt, then tossed your dirty gloves on the floor. 

“Perfect! The swelling went down,” you grinned slyly and added, “but it might come back.”

“Oh, it’s definitely coming back.” 

Law grabbed your waist and quickly flipped your positions, pinning you underneath him by sitting on your hips. Holding your wrists above your head in one hand and using the other to cup your jaw, he pressed his lips against yours in a wet and messy kiss. You whined as he shoved his tongue down your throat, eagerly devouring your mouth. 

“M-Mr. Trafalgar, this is very unprofessional…” Weakly faking a struggle against his grasp, whining when it only got tighter.

“I gotta self-medicate now, miss, or I’ll never get better.” Your boyfriend kissed his way down your sternum, tugging down the zipper of your costume just enough to reveal your chest. He groaned at the sight of your vivid red bra. “Fuck, what a uniform.”

While mouthing at the swell of your breasts, your boyfriend stroked himself to full hardness – which didn’t take long. Desire was overtaking his mind and turning his vision hazy. He might actually have a medical issue if he didn’t fuck you immediately. 

Law slipped his hand between your legs and snickered at the wetness soaked through your panties. Pushing the fabric to the side, he unceremoniously thrust his E and A fingers in your cunt. Those skilled digits pushed and prodded inside you, a grin spreading across his face when he heard the sinful squelch of your drenched walls. 

“Naughty nurse,” he chuckled teasingly, gray eyes burning holes into your own when he sucked his sticky fingers into his mouth, moaning at your taste.

“I’m not naughty,” you pouted. “My job is to make patients feel better, and this is helping, right?”

“Shit, yeah, you just might cure me.” 

Law tapped your inner thighs and you spread them willingly, unsurprised when he chose to shove your panties to the side and keep the costume intact. He pressed his swollen mushroom tip against your leaking entrance. With freed wrists, you gripped the bedsheets, heart racing and pussy throbbing. 

Rather than fulfilling both of your desires, your boyfriend paused in thought. “Hold on, what did you diagnose me with?”

You shrugged and defaulted to something you heard in a porno. “Big dick disorder?”

Law fought against every well-educated neuron in his brain begging to correct you. He took a deep breath and let out an exaggerated exhale, but smirked proudly. “I’ll accept it.”

His cock slammed into you and knocked all the air from your lungs. Bottoming out with a groan, he paused to lean back and admire your outfit, feeling his cock get impossibly harder inside your cunt. Fucking a fantasy nurse was a deep-rooted desire of his, and he was amazed and incredibly grateful that he was able to act it out with you. 

“Is this the right way to treat my illness?” Smugly punctuating his words with a sharp thrust, the head of his cock kissing the tip of your womb. You’d never seen him so talkative in bed.

“M-move faster… it’ll be more effective.”

“Okay. I trust you, miss nurse.” Law whispered seductively in your ear. His beard tickled your skin when he nipped at a soft spot of your neck. 

Setting a brutal pace, he pistoned his cock in and out, balls slapping against your skin with every thrust. Messy wet sounds filled the room – your cunt gushing and your tongues desperately sliding against each other. Law typically limited his vocal expressions of pleasure to grunts and soft groans, but something in him had clearly snapped. He had no issue throwing his head back and moaning unashamedly, interweaving spat curse words and praises of your body. 

He sucked on your tongue while switching his hip movements to a slow grind, his dick fully sheathed and rubbing against every delicate inch of your cunt. 

“T-Traf… oh, fuck, Law.” Your eyes rolled back into your head as you tangled your fingers in his messy black hair and held onto it for dear life. He swallowed the string of saliva connecting your lips with a playful grin.

Shifting your position into a mating press, you locked your stocking-clad knees around his shoulders. His rough pace resumed, cock reaching impossibly deeper inside you, bullying your cervix with every thrust. Your body rocked back and forth on the shaking mattress. Every movement caused your hat to press against the pillow and reminded you of your costume – no, your role.

“Good girl,” Law panted, pupils blown wide with pleasure. “Taking care of me so well with your pretty pussy.”

You whined needily, feeling your core tighten. “I’m s-so close, baby,” 

A sharp slap came down on your tit. Law’s eyes narrowed. “Be professional.” 

Despite his strict command, he rewarded you by pressing and flicking his thumb against your neglected clit. You bucked your hips into his touch desperately, grinding the sensitive nub on his calloused finger.

You threw your head backwards, arched off the bed and came with a cry of, “Mr. Trafalgar!” Arms wrapped around his back, legs pulling him in even tighter as your pleasure hit you like a tidal wave, flooding over you in a bright white light. 

“Naughty fucking nurse.” Your boyfriend growled with a pleased smirk. Hot cum coated your walls as Law let out a deep moan, your cunt eagerly milking every last drop. Your boyfriend kissed you deeply until the aftershocks of both of your orgasms had subsided.

He collapsed on top of you, both of your chests heaving against each other as you struggled to catch your breath. Releasing your tight grip on his shoulders, you lovingly rubbed the giant skull tattoo on his upper back. 

“Thank you, miss. I’m cured.” Law mumbled happily, kissing your cheek. 

You frowned. “You are? After one round?”

“Oh.” That certainly wouldn’t be a satisfying ending to his appointment. “Um… No, I’m still very, very sick.” He followed it up with a fake cough. Not exactly a symptom of having a big dick, but whatever. 

Deciding to give your overwhelmed boyfriend a break, you took control of the situation again.

“I’m not sure how much medical knowledge you have, Mr. Trafalgar, but I have an ache in my chest.” You reached between your bodies to innocently spread your unzipped dress even more, pushing out your tits. “Mind checking it out for me?”

Law pushed up the cups of your bra without a second thought, groping your soft flesh with large palms. “I’ll see what I can do.”

[sethell]

young master ♡

➤ summary: You don't worship the ground Doflamingo walks on, and it turns him on a little too much. (18+)

➤ pairing: doflamingo x afab!reader

➤ word count: 3.7k

➤ warnings: kinda sub!doflamingo (he’s a horny menace), mild dubcon, possessive doffy, spit kink, oral (f receiving), masturbation (m receiving), degradation, name-calling

➤ notes: this takes place before dressrosa but i’m only halfway done with the arc so sorry for any inaccuracies! i haven't posted my writing online in years so please lmk what you think :3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Doflamingo was sulking. His signature smile was comically turned upside down and his arms were crossed over his chest. Feet resting on top of his desk as he leaned back in his plush office chair, crumpling the important documents strewn underneath them that he was meant to review and sign. He knew he probably looked like a petulant child, and he felt like one, too. This was all your fucking fault.

Even though you were only in your twenties, you were already a well-known Vice Admiral. Vergo had informed Doflamingo of your impressive Haki abilities months ago, but that wasn’t the only reason he kept a close eye on you. You were sexy as hell, even in a Marines uniform, and he delighted in every brief interaction he had with you at Warlord meetings. When you decided to take some time off, he snatched you up immediately with a tantalizing job offer. After all, working for him was technically still a Government job, and he was helping so many countries in need!

You made it clear from the very beginning that this was a temporary gig and you had no intention of permanently joining the Donquixote Family. You were his business partner, not his subordinate. He never planned on honoring that agreement, of course, but you were making his plans particularly difficult. 

The man had hundreds of thousands – if not millions – of loyal and passive subjects. Obedient workers who never questioned his judgment and praised his iron fist, from the filthy commoners at the bottom to the Elite Officers up top. But not you. 

You had the kind of effortless confidence that got under his skin. You were unbothered and detached from his evil antics, from him. He made his presence known everywhere he went and was always the focus of the room, but it seemed like you paid more attention to the damn servants than him. His threats and intimidation which made thousands tremble in fear hardly made you flinch. When he revealed the secret of Dressrosa’s toys in hopes of getting a reaction from you, you practically yawned. 

You knew who he was. You knew what he was capable of. You didn’t fucking care.

You weren’t afraid of him, and this greatly disturbed him.

A few days ago, you had strolled into his office without even knocking on the door. He furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance, but you barely took notice. You were there to discuss your agreement in order to figure out a time frame of how long he needed you. He threw his head back and laughed loudly as he said, “That’s adorable. You really think you can get away from me, hm?”

Perceptive as always, you noticed the slightest twitch of his middle finger and immediately held an Armament Haki-coated hand in front of your chest, blocking the nearly invisible string flung your way. “Doffy, I’m being serious.”

He frowned and narrowed his eyes. Diamante used that nickname once in front of you and now you wouldn’t call him anything else. You thought it was cute. “Since when can you block my strings?”

“Do you really think I’d be a Vice Admiral if I couldn’t do that? You were so obvious about it, too.” You clicked your tongue, knowing full well that anyone less powerful than you wouldn’t be able to perceive his movement. Prominent veins popped in Doflamingo’s forehead but the blonde man stayed silent. “I think I’ll stay here for a few more months, at least. Maybe longer if I don’t have a terrible time here. Dressrosa is kind of growing on me.” 

“You’re acting like I can’t keep you here by force.” Doflamingo interrupted your train of thought. “I could have Sugar turn you into a cute little doll, and then your Vice Admiral position would disappear. Or Giolla could turn you into a painting to hang on my wall.” He paused as if considering his options, knowing full well what he truly wanted. “Maybe I’ll keep you tied up with strings as my own personal pet.”

Many times he’d pictured you tied to the headboard of his bed, stripped naked and covered in his drying cum as he used you however he wanted. Perhaps then he’d finally ignite a spark of fear in you. 

“If you actually wanted to do that, it would’ve happened already. But you’re the one who hired me, remember?” You acted like you were explaining something obvious to a kid. “If you try anything against me, I can always call up the Navy and tell them what you’re doing to your poor innocent citizens. Maybe even let them know your alias? Begins with a J, right?”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He snarled, sitting up in his seat immediately and binding strings around your wrists to keep them pinned above your head. You kept your eyes trained on his, a determined and almost taunting glint in them. 

“I’m not a big fan of blackmail, so I don’t want to do that,” you replied in an even tone. “I’m just saying that I can. Now, are we gonna talk business, or are you gonna play cat’s cradle all day?”

Doflamingo should’ve killed you right then and there. That would’ve put an end to his confusing thoughts about you, but your conversation only made them worse. You were on his mind constantly, to the point where he couldn’t focus on anything else. It was an obsession, an infatuation, one completely unbecoming of a heavenly being like himself. People were meant to grovel at his feet and kiss the very ground he walked on – why the fuck were you not affected?

He finally had enough. He pushed the chair away from his desk and stormed out of his office. Servants hurried away in fear, knowing that his scowl and heavy footsteps meant nothing but trouble. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled around his mind — he wanted to make you scream, to completely immobilize you with his power, to kiss you so hard you saw stars. No, that wasn’t it. 

He wanted you to call him ‘Young Master’. 

Doflamingo threw open the double doors to a secluded drawing room in his typical dramatic flair. You were alone, reclining on a couch and reading a book. Even this pissed him off – you were in a potential viper’s nest, surrounded by powerful people who could turn on you at any point, yet you didn’t feel the need to keep others around you for protection. You turned your head towards the intruder in confusion. His massive body filled the door frame and light from the hallway illuminated him and his feathery coat from behind, making him look like a fallen angel.

“What Devil Fruit did you eat.” It was a statement, not a question. His voice was a dangerously low growl. 

“I already told you, I didn’t eat one.” You said slowly, slightly thrown off by his demeanor but still not afraid. 

“You lying bitch!” He roared, using his strings to slam the doors behind him as he crossed the room towards you in three giant steps. “You must have some kind of mind control ability, or manipulation, or… I don’t fucking know! Tell me what’s happening!” He threw his head in his hands and crouched over, almost as if he was in pain. “Why can’t I stop fucking thinking about you!”

Your mouth opened slightly and you blinked a few times to process the situation, and then it hit you. A sly grin slowly formed on your face as you dog-eared your book and set it down next to you. You knew this man was incapable of love in its purest sense, but maybe… “Doffy, have you never been attracted to someone before?”

His head shot up and he narrowed his eyes at you furiously behind his sunglasses. Of course he’d fucking been attracted to people – he refused to settle for nothing but the best with his lovers. He had fucked enough sexy men and women over the years to form a small army. But none of them were like you. 

They were all cheaply made toys, suitable for one or two uses then tossed in the trash when they broke or when he got bored. He was a greedy and spoiled child who always got what he wanted. But with you… it felt like he was staring through the front window of a shop at a shiny new toy. So close and so enticing but completely out of reach.

“Fuck you! I… I…” You would never know how that sentence was supposed to end, because he sunk to his knees and hung his head in frustrated shame. He slammed his fist against the floor hard enough to rattle the room. “Why won’t you belong to me?!”

The almighty King of Dressrosa, the feared Warlord, the powerful underground broker, was on his knees begging for you. He knew he sounded pathetic. He felt pathetic. But he couldn’t go a moment longer without getting what he wanted, what was rightfully his. 

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You had always stood your ground because you knew your worth, but sometimes you did it to purposely push the blonde man’s buttons since no one else seemed to have the courage to do so. But you were just teasing him – this was not the outcome you had in mind. 

You slowly stood from the couch to move in front of him. Even bent over, the massive man was practically your height, but he had never seemed smaller.

“Doffy,” you began in a quiet voice and reached out to gently touch his feather-clad shoulder, but he slammed the ground again. 

“I don’t need you to patronize me! I need…” he trailed off again and hesitated for a moment before realizing what he needed to do to calm the fire roaring inside him. Fine, he would give you a fucking reason to worship him. He threw himself at your midsection, making you yelp in surprise. He had finally drawn a reaction out of you, and it spurred him on even more. Rough hands yanked your shirt up to your breasts and he hungrily mouthed at the soft skin of your tummy, a frenzied mess of tongue and teeth and soft lips. “I need you. Give yourself to me.” He said breathlessly, punctuating his words with a sharp bite at your hip. 

You were frozen in place but weak in the knees, unable to do anything but accept his bites and bruises. You’d be lying if you said you’d never imagined what his long tongue and nimble fingers felt like on your body, in your body. He nipped at your skin hard enough to bruise then soothed it with his tongue, sending heat straight to your core. 

Doflamingo was in a drugged-like haze, mind clouded with a dizzying mix of lust and hatred and longing. He belatedly noticed that you weren’t resisting him when he popped the button on your jeans. When he looked up, he realized your cheeks were flushed and your gaze was trained on his long fingers dancing along the waistband of your pants. 

He smiled wickedly, feeling a sliver of regained control. “You fucking whore. You want this, don’t you?”

“Doffy, you’re the one literally trying to get in my pants.”

“Shut up.” He snarled, annoyed yet allured by your sweet giggle afterwards. He yanked your jeans down to your ankles to reveal pretty pink lace panties underneath. They practically matched the color of his coat – you had to have worn those just for him. Might as well take them later. 

A needy and unashamed whine tore from his lips when he saw your pussy. Even more perfect than he’d imagined all those times he fucked his fist alone in bed. He told himself this was what was necessary to crush that annoying ego of yours, knowing full well he was nearly shaking with pure carnal desire. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise and shoved your thighs apart before diving in. His tongue was ravenous, licking a sloppy stripe from your ass to your clit, mouth closing around the nub and sucking harshly. The sweetest moan he’d ever heard fell from your lips and he echoed it, eager to hear more. 

Fingers tangled in his short blonde hair as you tried to steady yourself. It was too much all at once. You tried to tug him away to tell him to slow down, yet wanted to pull him even closer. Doflamingo flinched at the contact. Part of him wanted to tie your hands behind your back because how dare you touch him without permission. But instead, he groaned at the rough pull on his scalp, which went straight to his hardening cock. His grip on you tightened as he dragged you further onto his face.

His long tongue lapped messily at your folds then slipped into your cunt, shallowly thrusting the wet tip in and out. He laughed in delight at your delicious juices coating his tastebuds and making his head spin.

“You’re so fucking wet.” He panted and rubbed his nose against your clit, making you jump. A sloppy string of his saliva still connected his mouth to your entrance. “I think you like me after all.”

“I’d like anyone who eats me out this good,” you quipped.

“But no one’s as good as me, hm?” To prove his point, he shoved the entirety of his skilled tongue deep inside you. You threw your head back and whined as the wet muscle curled and twisted inside you, hungrily lapping at your sensitive inner walls. “No one will ever be as good as me. Say you’re mine and you can have this every day.”

“F-fuck, Doffy… so, mmh, good…” He ate you out like a man starved, desperately sucking at every part of your pussy he could reach. One hand moved from your hip, leaving dark blue fingerprint-shaped bruises behind, and plunged into his own pants. He let out a deep groan at the contact.

“Call me Young Master.” Doflamingo breathed heavily as he pulled his pants down slightly. Your jaw dropped when he revealed his massive and fully erect dick, leaking beads of precum and bobbing against his stomach. You knew he’d be big based on his height, but this was inhuman. The blonde man noticed your hungry gaze and chuckled. “You want me so badly. Stop denying the truth and I’ll give you everything you want. I am a benevolent king, after all.”

You actually laughed at that, and he didn’t even try to be angry – being on full display for you meant he couldn’t hide the way your disobedience made his cock twitch. His other hand slithered between your legs and rubbed at your folds and the smile fell off your face.

You stumbled backwards – there was nothing behind you to lean on and your legs were quickly turning into jelly. “W-wait, Doffy, I can’t, ahh, l-let me sit…”

Two of his fingers moved downwards and bound your feet to the floor with his string. Immobilizing your bottom half like a statue but intentionally leaving your top half free to grab at his hair and body as you pleased. “Your king will grant you permission to move when I want to.” 

“S’okay, I l-like seeing you look up to me for once.” Your witty reply was lost on the blonde, who had spread your folds apart and was hypnotized by your entrance clenching around nothing. You were so fucking tiny compared to him and he ached at the thought of molding your insides to take him and him alone.

Just one thick finger was enough to make you moan and pant, slowly pushing its way inside your cunt. “Shit, you’re so tight.” The soft squelches of your inner walls rang in his ears and pretty pearls of precum leaked from his dick. “Perfect fucking pussy. Give it to me.”

A second digit was soon added, scissoring you apart expertly. Unsurprisingly, the man really knew how to use his fingers. He crooked them and brushed against your most sensitive spot, causing you to cry out and hold onto him even harder. Sharp teeth playfully bit at your inner thigh in response. Doflamingo gathered some of the constant dribble of precum from the tip of his cock to lube his rough palm. He considered making you spit on his hand to ease the glide, but a better idea came to mind.

“Spit in my mouth.” He ordered, tilting his head up and sticking his tongue out. Waiting for you to follow his command like a good toy.

You were taken aback by the sudden request, but you gathered a ball of spit in your mouth like you were told… and it landed directly on the lens of his sunglasses, obscuring the vision of one eye. Doflamingo knew that it wasn’t just badly aimed. This was an act of defiance. You intentionally spit on his defining accessory, his very essence.

“You stupid slut.” The venomous insult came with a maniacally pleased grin. He pushed the stained glasses onto his forehead and you finally saw his eyes for the first time. Gorgeous and bright blue with lust-blown pupils. Looking at his beautifully depraved expression in its entirety, you briefly wondered if he really was an angel. His fingers sped up to a nearly brutal pace and he slipped in a third digit, causing you to choke on your spit. “Love me. Love me.”

A divine being who fell from heaven to beg at your feet. 

“Y-you’re fucking insane,” you panted with a blissful smile, your cunt clenching down deliciously on him. “Make up your, mmh, mind.”

“Adore me.” He responded immediately. “Say you’re mine. Be mine.”

Even though you refused to respond, the blonde was lost in his fantasies yet grounded in the reality of your beautiful face scrunched up in pleasure. Mouth hanging open, hands nearly going numb from how hard you held onto him. He needed to see you like this every day – no, every hour. He could keep you under his desk like a pet, ready to suck his dick whenever he allowed you to. Or maybe you’d sit in his lap all day, one of his hands fondling your tits as he attended meetings and forced his subordinates to watch him play with his favorite toy. 

But that was too mundane. He could snatch up anyone in Dressrosa right now and do the same. No, the twisted fantasy that really made his cock ache was already happening. That annoyingly sexy confidence of yours was threatening his godliness. 

Maybe he’d make you step on him next time.

“Call me Young Master,” he begged again, too far gone to realize how ridiculous he sounded. Tongue hanging out like a dog (and panting like one, too), he rutted into his hand even faster. His cock was absolutely throbbing, red and angry and dripping precum. He was in no position to be giving orders. You stifled a giggle with your hand, which quickly turned into a moan as his fingers bumped against your cervix. 

“I already t-told you,” you sucked in a few shaky breaths. He was watching you intently and still smiling, but his fingers never slowed down. “You’re not my –mm– Master, I don’t, ahh, work for you…”

“But why not?” He whined again. “At least call me it when you cum. I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t.” 

You didn’t acknowledge the ridiculously empty threat, instead throwing your head back when his fingers crooked against your most sensitive spot. Slick was dribbling down your legs – Doflamingo licked it off of your thighs before slurping around his digits buried inside you. The blonde echoed your unashamedly loud moans, practically on the edge himself. He only needed one thing to send him into a rapturous white bliss. 

He stared up at you unblinkingly, face frozen in a grin as he took in all the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm. Sweat dribbled down your forehead, eyebrows furrowed together, body tense and breath hot. “I-I’m gonna… gonna…” He crooked his fingers inside you the way he’d done thousands of times to turn people into obedient little puppets.

“Doffy~!” Your face contorted into the most divine expression he’d ever seen, crying out his name like a desperate prayer. 

You ignored his order. You used that stupid fucking nickname. 

He came hard. 

The tight coil that had been building in his groin for days at the mere thought of you finally snapped. An animalistic moan left his lips as thick ropes of cum coated his hand and spilled onto his abdomen. He looked even more blissed out than you, panting hard and shuddering and nearly overstimulating himself with the hand on his cock still slowly moving up and down. 

Doflamingo finally removed his fingers from inside you and loudly sucked them clean of your essence. Still craning his neck upwards so he wouldn’t break eye contact with you. You could lose yourself inside that piercing gaze, so full of obsession and hunger, especially when it was coming from a position of worship rather than condescension. 

Blinking out of your stupor, you realized the blonde’s cum-coated hand was in front of your mouth. If you were anyone else, he would’ve shoved his fingers all the way to your throat and made you choke on it. Instead, he stayed still and kept quiet. This was an offering. 

You grabbed his wrist and kitten-licked his sticky palm twice, humming thoughtfully as if appraising the taste. His grin grew even wider. Then you pulled away and teasingly said, “You take care of the rest of it.”

Doflamingo simply giggled in delight — you’d willingly tasted the essence of a god, one that was soon to be your god, but you were still too stubborn to give in. He didn’t expect you to crumble so easily and he didn’t want you to. He was having way too much fun. The blonde smeared the rest of his cum on the crotch of the pink panties still pooled around your ankles. 

“That’s disgusting.” You huffed in annoyance and rolled your eyes. “What am I supposed to wear out of here?”

The man chuckled lowly and rose to his feet, suddenly towering above you at full height. He wiped the dried spit off of his sunglasses before returning them to their rightful place on the bridge of his nose. 

“Who said anything about leaving?” You paled at the sight of his devilish grin but felt your core clench in need. “You still haven’t called me by my proper title.”

[sethell]

I was literally at the cinema with my friend to watch F1. It was a VIP hall, so only 15 seats. And the couple right behind us started going at it.

Listen, with god as my witness, if Damson Idris is in front of me (even just on the screen), I’m not putting another man’s dick in my mouth. Judge me if you want.

[sethell]

OOH SHE WANTS IT, I GOTTA GIVE IT TO HER

masterlist

husband!nanami x wife!reader

cw: suggestive, mentions of babies and ovulation, crack (a bit), petnames (“my love”, “baby”), f!reader just wants it very bad (i mean, who doesn’t?), not proofread.

“Put a baby into me.”

“Good morning to you too, my love.”

Kento never seemed surprised with you. Not even glancing to you, his focus never wavered from his newspaper, his glasses carefully sat on the tip of his nose, comfortable on his chair.

He was the quiet, gentle strength, steady and unmoving and you hated him for looking so calm, while a raging war was taking place in your body - your ovaries screaming for you to get a baby.

Dilated pupils. Flushed cheeks. Short breath. Legs almost shaking. And grumpy in the morning?

Yeah, definitely ovulating.

It was always like that at this exact time of the month, he was used to it by now. So, it was definitely not a surprise when you approached him not so quietly, standing between his spread legs, your eyebrows knitted and your fists almost curled.

“Kento.”

“Yes, my love?”

“I want a baby.”

“And I want vacations. We don’t always get what we want unfortunately.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

You huffed, disbelief painted on your face. How could he? Your eyes narrowed, as if a single look would kill him right here, right now, your hands coming on his shoulders.

“Kento.”

“Hmm?”

“Put me out of my misery, please, please, please, please-“

“My love.” He put his newspaper down on the table at his right, pushing his glasses that were slipping on the top of his nose, as he gave you his undivided attention now. “I know it’s your ovulation week and-“

“How do you know?”

He always knew. Noticed the signs. And of course, kept a period app on his phone.

“I just know.” He sighed, his hands taking yours tenderly. “You always complain about babies, about how they look like trolls-“

“Gremlins.”

“Gremlins in diapers, right. You don’t actually want a baby.”

Was he wrong? Not really. Babies were loud, always crying and babbling nonsense that nobody understood but pretended they were cute. Babies were tyrants, little demons running everywhere, throwing tantrums and misbehaving.

Having a baby wasn’t on your plan right now, and Kento wasn’t really opposed to the idea but he always made sure that your desire came before his.

But right now, you wanted him.

Everywhere. Anywhere.

The single thought of Kento’s hand spreading your thighs, and the other one doing wonders between them made your heartbeat faster. His hands on your hips didn’t help at all, the heat of his palms through the fabric of your shorts didn’t help at all, him explaining things to you with patience didn’t help at all. And the worse of it? He didn’t seem to grasp it. To understand the effect his rasp voice had on you, and your body that was on fire.

“I want you in me. Your coc-“

“I get it, my love.” With an expert hand, Kento took off his glasses, setting them aside, his resolve slowly crumbling under your words. The image was pretty vivid in his mind,

“Do you? Because I feel like if you don’t give it to me now, I might die, Kento.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Yes, I am, but try to act normal when your ovaries are screaming and-“

The words in your mouth died the second his lips kissed the corners of yours, his eyelashes brushing your cheeks, the cold of his wedding ring dancing on your stomach. He pulled you on his lap, one of his fingers putting one of the strands of your hair behind your ear.

“Who am I not to give it to you, hmm? That would make me a bad husband, right?”

“A very bad one, indeed.”

Your breathless voice made him almost smirk in amusement - your body sensitive to the slightest of his touch - his forehead pressed against yours, shallow breath leaving his lips, his rough hands grabbing the back of your neck with tenderness, your perfume invading his nostrils.

“You just want to be fucked, my love, right?”

“Yes.”

Yes. Yes. Yes. A billion times of yes.

You were way too enthusiastic when he knew you won’t be in the same state at the end of this. As a man of his words, he was the only one who could give what you wanted - the thrill of the moment making your skin shiver with anticipation.

“It’s yours, baby.” Stealing your breath with his simple sentence, he gave you permission to use him however you desired it, his hands on the armrests of the chair, as you fumbled with the belt of his pants. “Do what you want.”

What wouldn’t he do for his wife?

[sethell]

Dr. Miller’s Check Up♡

Dark!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Joel’s Masterlist

“Jesus, sweets… you’re squeezin’ the life outta me. Can’t do a proper exam if this cunt keeps suckin’ my fingers in like that.”

Summary: Joel Miller comes up with a brilliant plan… pretending to be a doctor just to get close to you and have full access to your body.

WC: 7k

Tags/Warnings: smut, minors DNI, dub-con, dark!joel, pervy old man!joel, gaslighting, manipulation, gullible!reader, stalk-ish behavior, unprotected piv, fingering, oral (f!receiving), breast exam, creampie, mentions of breast cancer and std’s.

Before reading, please make sure you’ve read the warnings and are okay with them. Also, keep in mind that this includes a bunch of medical misinformation due to Joel making up bullshit, so please don’t take any of it as factual, except for the fact that it’s important to do breast self-exams!!

When you first heard a man talking about Jackson, your initial reaction was: he must be out of his mind. There was no way a sustainable community still existed, one that welcomed strangers instead of killing them over two cans of peaches and a half-loaded rifle. A place with warm beds, hot showers, and real meals? It sounded like a fairytale, not something meant for the world you lived in. But then you arrived, just a week ago alongside your brother, and it turned out the rumors weren’t a cruel lie after all, Jackson was real.

It didn’t just exist, but it felt like a dream. One so delicate, so impossibly good, you were afraid to blink, terrified that if you did, it would all disappear… just a figment of your desperate imagination. People were kind and friendly in Jackson, the kids ran through the streets laughing, throwing snowballs like there wasn’t a brutal world just beyond the gates. It was organized, there was a functioning hospital with real doctors, engineers kept the hydroelectric plant running. There was a school with teachers. It was the closest thing you’d seen to the old world in a long, long time, and it scared the hell out of you.

Your brother had settled in just fine, it only took him two days to make friends, join the patrols, and prove himself useful around town. But for you… it wasn’t so easy. You were still waiting for the dream to break, waiting to wake up and find the walls torn open, overrun by infected. Waiting for a bigger, meaner group to find Jackson, and if you were lucky, they’d just kill everyone quickly.

Maria, the woman who seemed to run things around Jackson, had told you when you first arrived to stop by the hospital, get yourself checked up. After all, being out on the road for so long could do a number on your health, but the truth was, you’d barely left the house since you got here.

Joel was doing what he did every day, minding his own damn business. Patrol had taken a toll on his body, and now Tommy was on his case about getting the new houses built by the end of the week, which wouldn’t be such a problem if he wasn’t stuck working with people who’d never held a hammer in their damn lives.

But that’s when he saw you, crossing the gates of Jackson, and Jesus Christ, it had been a goddamn long time since he’d felt like this about anyone… Since he’d felt like a man. You looked a little roughed up, like you’d been on the road too long, worn down by it, but even then, your beauty was undeniable. Those piercing eyes, that mouth with lips that looked like they were made to be kissed, sucked, bitten. And your thighs, your hips… they didn’t look too soft or meaty, you looked like you hadn’t had a proper meal in weeks, but still, they looked just right, made to be held, to be grabbed, to feel them tight under him while he fucked the breath out of you.

Joel also noticed the guy standing next to you, tall, broad-shouldered, always keeping a close eye on you. He’d suddenly dropped whatever argument he was having with Tommy, his attention fixed on you both. One day, he said low and discreet, “Saw we got a few new folks in town.” Tommy nodded. “Found ’em on the road. Seem like good people. Just a guy and his younger sister.”

So that man wasn’t your boyfriend… good. That was better for Joel, easier to swallow. As the days passed, his obsession only grew, he saw your brother around town, always hanging with a group of other guys, but you… you were nowhere to be seen. Every evening, Joel would walk past your house, hoping for just a glimpse of you through the window, but the curtains were always drawn tight. It was clear you were struggling to settle in. Maria only confirmed his worries. “I’m worried about the girl,” she said once. “Told her to go see the doctor for a check-up, but she hasn’t been yet.”

Joel felt like an evil genius when the idea popped into his head. And yeah, maybe some people wouldn’t think it was the right thing to do, but God knew he was a lonely man, he’d been one for a long time, and he was so fucking done handling his own horniness by stroking his cock alone in bed every night thinking of you.

So what if he had to lie a little to get close to you? What if he had to make up a story, just a little one, so you’d finally look at him the way he needed? So you’d smile, so you’d let him in, so you’d let him touch you like he wanted. After all, there weren’t good people anymore in this world, sometimes you had to be a little shady to get what you wanted, and all Joel wanted was you, so really, who could judge a man for following his impulses and doing what he needed to do?

Joel spent the next few days scheming. He tracked your brother’s patrol shifts, searching for the perfect moment when you’d be alone at home, just you, no interruptions. He even managed to sneak a few medical supplies into a worn leather suitcase from the hospital, just typical stuff: a stethoscope, a thermometer, small details to make his act look real, convincing. Every piece carefully chosen, every step planned.

You woke up from the nap on the couch you were taking, groggy and disoriented, the muffled sound of sturdy knocking pulling you from sleep. You rubbed your eyes, and padded slowly to the door. On the other side stood a man in his mid-fifties, you’d guess. With salt-and-pepper hair brushing back from his temples and a beard peppered with white, his weathered face lined with the kind of creases that only came from a hard life. He looked rugged, capable… and completely unfamiliar.

“Afternoon,” he said, offering a big, polite smile that was all teeth.

“Afternoon,” you replied, your voice sounded a little shaky from the unexpected visit from a man you’d never seen before. “May I help you?”

“’M Doctor Miller,” he said, extending a calloused hand. You hesitated, just for a second, but then took it, his grip firm but not rough. “You’ve had us a little worried. Been expectin’ you at the clinic for a check-up.”

So that’s what this was about. You exhaled softly, relief mixing with irritation, you’d been avoiding that particular appointment, the last thing you wanted was to strip down under fluorescent lights and let strangers poke and prod you under the guise of care. Still… you didn’t know how to say no without sounding ungrateful, the people here had been kind since you arrived.

“I… didn’t think it was mandatory,” you said, voice soft but careful.

“It ain’t,” Joel replied, eyes narrowing just slightly like he was trying to read something behind your expression. “But when folks don’t show, we get concerned. S’not about rules. It’s about makin’ sure you’re all right.”

“I’ll… I’ll stop by soon. I promise.”

He gave you that same too-big smile, tilting his head slightly. “Oh, but sweets… ’m already here, ain’t I? So why don’t we kill two birds with one stone ‘nd go ahead with the check-up?” Before you could form an excuse, he stepped forward and crossed the threshold of your doorway.

“I-I don’t know. I really appreciate it, Dr. Miller, but—” You weren’t sure, you weren’t exactly comfortable, no matter how kind he looked… or how handsome he was.

“Nonsense, sweets.” His voice dropped its warmth, sounding colder now. He was already setting the leather case down on your coffee table, glancing around like he owned the place. “You can’t keep postponin’ your health. Check-ups are important, yeah?”

He stood in front of your couch, and made a subtle gesture with his hand for you to sit down. Something about the way he carried himself made it feel less like a suggestion and more like an order. You hesitated, but then slowly, you stepped toward the couch and sat, still unsure, but reasoning with yourself. Why not? A check-up wouldn’t hurt, and Dr. Miller seemed… nice enough. He’d gone out of his way to come see you, hadn’t he? It’d be rude to just turn him away. The people of Jackson had been nothing but kind and helpful since you arrived. You told yourself this was no different.

“Sit down, yeah?” he said, voice softer again now, almost coaxing. He knelt in front of the coffee table and opened the leather suitcase. From inside, he pulled a small flashlight and turned it on.

He leaned closer, almost too close, you could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips and chin as he reached up, his fingers rough but gentle, and took hold of your jaw with one large hand.

“Follow the light f’me, sweets,” he murmured, his voice was low, almost a purr. “Gotta check those reflexes.”

The flashlight flicked from side to side, you followed it with your eyes, but even in that brief movement, you couldn’t ignore the fact that his stare was hungry, like he was memorizing every inch of it.

“You’ve got beautiful eyes,” he murmured, and a smirk crept onto his lips as he caught the blush blooming across your cheeks. “Very good reflexes too,” he added with a playful tone, gently pinching your cheek between his fingers before letting go.

He turned back to his suitcase, taking his time as he reached for the next item. “Alright,” he drawled, pulling out a small digital thermometer and holding it between two fingers like it was something far more intimate. “Open those pretty lips f’me now… yeeeaah, jus’like that. Thaaassit.”

As he slowly guided the thermometer into your mouth, his breath hitched. He prayed you wouldn’t notice the way his body betrayed him… the thick, pulsing erection straining against the front of his jeans. Because fuck, watching your plush lips part obediently, the way they wrapped around the slim shaft of plastic… it was too easy to imagine you taking something else between them.

His jaw tensed as he tried not to groan, all he could think about now was your mouth stretched wide around his cock, those soft lips soaked with spit, your eyes looking up at him while he gripped your hair tight and pushed deeper until you were gagging on the weight of his length, until tears blurred those beautiful eyes he’d just praised.

God, looking down at you like that, so sweet, so trusting, sitting pretty on the couch while he held the thermometer between your lips… it did things to him. You looked up at him with those wide, innocent eyes, completely unaware of the filth running rampant in his head, it was almost too much.

The thermometer beeped. “Ninety-eight degrees,” he muttered, pretending to check the screen while he offered you another one of those charming smiles. “Healthy as a horse.”

He reached back into his bag and pulled out the stethoscope next. His hand went straight to the hem of your shirt without hesitation. “Gonna need to undo this… just a few buttons, alright?” he said casually, but he didn’t wait for a yes, his fingers were already working through the first three buttons before you could even react.

And there it was that little peek of your black bra beneath the open fabric. Joel saw it instantly, he noticed the way it hugged your chest, the contrast of the fabric against your skin. He hummed low under his breath, satisfied, his gaze lingering just a second too long before he cleared his throat.

“Now this might be a lil’ cold, sweets. Be brave f’me,” he said as he pressed the cold metal of the stethoscope right against the swell of your chest.“Take a big breath f’me now.” He added.

You obeyed without question, slowly filling your lungs with air and holding it, your chest rising beautifully beneath that open shirt, the curve of your breasts subtly shifting beneath the black lace of your bra. Joel’s eyes were locked onto the bare skin exposed to him, transfixed by every breath, every tiny movement. The way your chest expanded, the soft bounce as you exhaled… fuck, it was too much. The thick line of his cock strained hard against his zipper, throbbing, aching, desperate for release. The image burned into his mind, how you’d feel wrapped around him, warm and wet, completely unaware of just how badly he wanted to ruin you.

“Is everything okay, Dr. Miller?” you asked, your voice denoted innocent concern.

Joel blinked once, dragging his gaze back up to your face. “Mhm,” he hummed, retrieving the stethoscope and slipping it back into his bag. “Lungs are sound. You’re a mighty healthy young lady.”

“Is that it, then?” you asked softly.

He shook his head, giving you that easy, charming smile again. “’Fraid not, sweets. Got a few questions for you next. Just routine, nothin’ to worry about. That okay with you?”

You gave a little nod, and he settled in just a bit closer, his eyes still shamelessly dragging over every inch of you, already imagining the answers he wanted to hear.

“Aight then,” he said, voice casual as he clicked a pen in his hand. “You been feelin’ any pain lately? Anythin’ that don’t feel quite right?”

You shook your head. “No… I’m feeling fine.”

“Good. That’s good.” He gave a small nod, as if he was just ticking boxes in his mind. Then, with the same steady tone, he asked, “What about your cycle? Your period?”

Your eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by the bluntness of it. Joel didn’t miss it, of course he didn’t, his lips curled faintly as he added quickly, “No need to be shy now, sweets. ‘M a professional. This here’s a safe, confidential space. Just me ‘nd you.”

You swallowed, shifting a little on the couch. “M-my period is… it’s fine.” You weren’t used to talking about something so personal with someone you barely knew, especially not a man, but you reminded yourself: he’s a doctor, he’s just doing his job.

“All good? No cramps? You regular?” he continued, his tone was calm, but his gaze stayed fixed on you, studying every twitch of discomfort like it fascinated him.

“Y-yes. It’s all good,” you said again, forcing a smile.

He tilted his head slightly, then asked, “‘Nd what stage you in right now?”

“S-stage?”

“Yeah, sweets. Are you bleedin’? Or ovulatin’, maybe?”

You hesitated, feeling your cheeks warming. “I-I think I’m ovulating.”

Joel made a low hum, almost like a sound of approval. His smile deepened, more to himself than to you. “Ovulatin’, huh?” he repeated. “That’s good. That’s real good.”

You weren’t quite sure why he sounded so pleased. “Why’s that?” you asked pulling your brows together.

Joel chuckled, as if you being clueless amused him. “Oh, sweets, you been doin’ your breast checks, right?”

“Breast checks?” you repeated, blinking in confusion.

“Yeah. Self-exams,” he said, almost fatherly. “Touchin’ your breasts, feelin’ around for lumps, any changes in texture or size. ’S important. Breast cancer’s no joke, sweets. Ain’t somethin’ to ignore.”

“B-breast cancer?” The words hit like cold water. You’d never even considered it, not with everything else going on when you had do survive day by day in the outside world, who had time to think about that?

But Joel was already nodding. “Don’tcha worry, now. We can do it together. I’ll show you how, ’s quick.” His hands moved without hesitation, reaching for the rest of the buttons on your shirt, fingers working with practiced ease.

“D-Dr. Miller… I’m not sure—” You shifted back instinctively, trying to bring your arms up between you, but he was already loosening the fabric.

“Shhh, ’s alright.” His tone was coaxing. “You trust me, don’tcha? This is for your health. I’ve done this with plenty o’patients before.”

Before you could fully register it, before you could think clearly enough to say no, he’d slipped the shirt from your shoulders, exposing your bra-clad chest to the cool air and his heavy gaze. You felt yous cheeks getting even more red, but he didn't even noticed, his eyes were too focused on your bra.

He hummed pleasingly "Bra's gonna have to go too for the exam." His colloused rough hands made their way to your back, easily uncalsping your bra, letting it fall to the floor.

Joel’s mouth nearly watered at the sight of your chest, the swell of your breasts exposed made his breath catch. It’d been so long since he’d last seen a pair of tits in the flesh, not a still image on old paper from a magazine, not some fading memory… this was living, breathing flesh. He watched the way they rose and fell with each nervous breath, how the cool air had already coaxed your nipples into stiff peaks.

“D-Do they look alright, Dr. Miller?” you asked timidly.

He took a slow breath through his nose. “Oh yeah,” he murmured. “Lookin’ real healthy, sweets. Real fine pair you’ve got.”

A flicker of heat bloomed in your stomach, twisting with something that felt like shame, or was it confusion? Was this how a check-up usually went? It didn’t sound right, but you couldn’t be sure, pre-outbreak medicine was a fuzzy memory now for you, you were too little to remember that. Still, he was kind, gentle… professional, right? And he looked so sure of what he was doing.

“Course, I can’t be certain just by lookin’,” he added smoothly, already reaching out again. “Gotta feel em too for any lumps, any irregularities. Standard procedure.”

And before the words even settled in the air, his hands were on you. One cupped each breast, his palms were warm against your skin. It wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t delicate either, his grip was firm, practiced, like he knew exactly what he wanted. His thumbs pressed into the softness, spreading and pushing your breasts together, letting them bounce gently in his hands as he worked them like something meant to be studied and enjoyed.

“Won’tcha look at that,” he muttered, more to himself than you. “Fit perfect in my hands… just how they should.” He gave them another squeeze, his eyes locked on the movement like he was hypnotized. “You feelin’ this, sweets? This is what you’re s’posed to do, press, roll, check for anythin’ outta place. But you? You’re all soft… tender. Just right.”

You sat still beneath him, wide-eyed and warm all over, letting him explore as he pleased. Joel couldn’t believe how goddamn pretty you looked so obedient and flushed, letting him handle you without protest, it lit something hot in his gut. His thumbs circled slowly over your nipples, making them stiffened up under his touch, and when you gasped softly, lips parting just a little, he didn’t hesitate, he leaned in, pinching one sensitive peak between his fingers with a soft pull.

“Attagirl,” he whispered, watching your reaction. “Sensitive there, huh?”

“D-Dr. Miller!” you gasped, startled by the sudden sharp tug of his fingers.

“I know, I know, sweets,” Joel drawled, his was deep and soothing. “I know they’re sensitive… that’s why I gotta check ’em real thorough. Nipples tell me a lot, y’know? All part of makin’ sure you’re healthy.”

He didn’t wait for you to argue, just kept rolling the tight peaks between his fingers, pinching a little harder now, just enough to make your breath hitch. His touch was rougher this time, greedy almost, thumbs rubbing over your soft buds until they ached under the attention. Then, he leaned down without warning, his tongue flicking out to taste you, it was just a tease at first, a quick lap over one nipple, watching your reaction like he was testing your limits. But when you didn’t pull back, just sat there flushed and breathing harder, he took it as permission, and so he latched on fully, mouth wrapping around your nipple and sucking gently, then a little harder, the wet heat of his tongue drawing a tremble from deep inside you.

You whimpered when he bit, just a little, a flash of teeth against tender skin that had you clenching your thighs. He didn’t stop, just switched to the other breast like he couldn’t stand to leave it unattended, devouring you slowly with lips and tongue working your tits with unspoken hunger, like he was savoring every second.

“D-Dr. Miller… is this… is this part of the exam?” you managed to whisper, both confused and aroused at the same time.

Joel pulled back with his lips wet “‘Course it is, sweets,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over the nipple he’d just kissed. “Gotta check sensitivity… tongue’s perfect for that. You’re doin’ so good f’me. Lemme finish takin’ care of you, yeah?”

You gave a small, shaky nod, but you couldn’t ignore the way your panties clung to you now, they were damp, sticky where your swollen cunt pressed into the fabric, heat pooling deep in your core. It was humiliating, getting turned on during something that was supposed to be a routine procedure, but the way Joel had sucked on your breast, the heat of his mouth, the scrape of his teeth, the pressure of his tongue… it had left you aching for more. He caught it, of course he did, he saw he way your thighs had started to press together, your hips shifting ever so slightly like you were trying to find relief without giving yourself away.

“Aw, what’s this?” Joel murmured, his tone still coated in that false professionalism, but you could hear the edge of amusement bleeding through. “You gettin’ a little worked up, sweets?”

“I–I—It’s not… not what it looks like,” you stammered, mortified.

Joel let out a quiet and low chuckle. “Relax. It’s a completely normal biological response,” he said smoothly, his hand giving your tits one last slow, deliberate squeeze before pulling away. “Some nerves get stimulated, hormones get movin’… happens all the time. ’M a professional, remember?”

You swallowed hard, nodding again, though your eyes had dropped to the floor, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. You crossed your arms quickly, hugging yourself, trying to hide your bare chest.

“Your tits,” Joel said, standing tall again. “They’re perfect. Healthy as can be.”

“G-good,” you whispered, curling in on yourself slightly, the warmth between your legs now less shameful and more unbearable, your body betraying you no matter how hard you tried to stay composed.

“Although…” Joel’s voice lowered, taking on a more serious edge. “There’s somethin’ else I’m a little concerned about.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard. “What is it?”

He looked at you with that same calm authority. “Are you sexually active?”

“W–what?” you echoed, feeling your heart skipping a beat.

“Sexually active, sweets,” he repeated, his voice was steady. “Are you havin’ sex? Anyone been inside you recently?” His hand reached forward, not rough, but firm, pulling your arms away from where you were shielding your chest. “Is someone fuckin’ that sweet little pussy?”

You gasped, that word… pussy… coming from a doctor, from him, it sounded so filthy. Was that even a question doctors asked? Was that relevant? But if Dr. Miller was asking, there had to be a reason, right?

He watched you hesitate. “Answer me.”

“N-no,” you whispered. “Not… not lately.”

“But you’ve done it before, haven’t you?” he asked softly. “Or is that cunt still untouched?”

“I–I’ve done it before,” you murmured, eyes falling to the floor, humiliated by the question, and more humiliated by how your body responded to it.

Joel nodded slowly. “There’s no shame in it. ‘M not asking to be inappropriate.” His thumb brushed lightly over your forearm, almost in a reassuring way. “But I need to know. These things matter, sweets. You could be carrying a sexually transmitted disease, ’nd not know it.”

“I… I don’t think I do,” you murmured, your voice felt so small. “I feel fine.”

Joel tilted his head slightly. “STDs can be silent, sweets. You’d be surprised how many go undetected until they’ve already caused damage. You’d never know unless someone checked.”

You hesitated. “I–I’ve only been with one person. And… it was a while ago. I think I’m okay.”

His hand gently squeezed your knee, grounding you, but also making it impossible to forget how close he was. “Sweets,” he said, his voice dropping, sounding more firm but not unkind, “’M the professional here. Lemme be the one to make that call.”

Your throat went dry. “H-how do you… check for that?”

Joel gave you a slow, almost reassuring smile. “Gotta do a full inspection.” He didn’t blink. “So here’s what we’ll do, why don’t you go ahead and lie back f’me, alright? ’Nd slip those panties down nice and slow.”

You still felt unsure, it was all happening too fast, your mind was struggling to catch up. A doctor, in your home, talking about breast cancer, about STDs, asking intimate questions, sucking your breasts, and now telling you to undress…

Joel’s voice cut through your daze. “‘S alright,” he murmured, already reaching for the button of your jeans. “Lemme help you out.”

You didn’t stop him, your body stayed soft and still, as his rough fingers popped the button open and dragged the denim down your thighs. His eyes never left you, he was watching the way your skin revealed itself to him inch by inch. He paused when you were left in just your panties, Joel wasn’t an impatient man, he’d always believed in the value of taking one’s time, especially when the reward was worth it. But it had been too long since he’d seen a cunt in real life, and he’d been thinking about yours since you stepped in Jackson. With one fluid motion, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and tugged them down, they slipped past your knees, down your calves, finally pooling around your ankles.

“Go on,” he said softly, coaxing your thighs apart with a firm hand. “Open up a lil f’me, sweets. Gotta make sure I can see what I’m workin’ with.”

Your breath caught as his hands guided your legs apart, wide enough that the cool air hit your most sensitive skin, leaving you exposed, completely bare before him.

Joel let out a slow exhale, his voice dropping to a quiet rumble. “Damn, now that’s a sight worth waitin’ for.”

You looked so goddamn tempting, it knocked the breath right out of him. Joel had never been this turned on before, hell, not even when he was a teenager and just hearing the word “tits” would’ve had him pitching a tent. But this? This was on a whole other level. The way your cheeks were flushed pink, your chest rising and falling fast, your tits full and heaving, and that bare, glistening pussy between your thighs… so puffy, wet, and begging for attention.

He cleared his throat, trying to keep the strain out of his voice. “Everythin’s lookin’ good… at first glance,” he muttered. “But now comes the physical exam.”

“P-physical?” you echoed, already breathless.

“Mhm,” he hummed, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Can’t exactly rule out infections without gettin’ my hands a little dirty, now can I?”

You gasped when his fingers brushed over your cunt, just barely, nothing but a whisper of touch, but it lit you up like electricity. You had to bite your lip to swallow the moan threatening to spill out. Joel’s fingertips ghosted along your folds, parting them with precise movements, spreading you open like he had all the time in the world. You were soaked, the slick was gathering thick between your thighs. He didn’t need to warm you up, your body had done that all on its own, eager and responsive, so he slipped one thick finger in, feeling your heat wrap tight around him, your walls fluttering like they were grateful to be touched.

“Goddamn,” he whispered, his eyes locked on how your pussy swallowed his finger as he started to move it in and out, testing how easily you took him. “You’re already clenchin’ round me like you don’t wanna let go.”

“D-Dr. Miller!” you gasped, trying and failing not to let the moan slip from your throat.

“Shhh,” he soothed you with amusement. “Workin’, sweets. Gotta make sure this pretty pussy’s in good shape.”

His finger moved in slow circles deep inside you, the pad of his finger stroking your inner walls like he was mapping every soft ridge, and then without warning, he pushed a second finger in. You were tight but soaking, your slick making it effortless for him to stretch you open. You whimpered at the fullness, and then cried out when he curled those fingers just right, finding that spongy, sensitive spot that made your hips jerk.

“There it is,” he muttered with a dark chuckle. “Jesus, sweets… you’re squeezin’ the life outta me. Can’t do a proper exam if this cunt keeps suckin’ my fingers in like that.”

His filthy words only made it worse, your walls clenched again, fluttering helplessly around him. You felt so exposed, so overwhelmed, the heat kept rising to your face as shame and arousal tangled deep in your belly.

“D-Do I… do I have anything wrong?” you managed to ask, the concern still clinging to you even as your body betrayed you, arching into his touch.

Joel didn’t answer at first, he just started pumping his fingers in and out, in a steady rhythm, always hitting that spot every time he pushed back in.

“Everythin’ looks good so far,” Joel said, voice rough as he lazily thrust his fingers one last time before slipping them out. “Your pussy’s soft… warm like it should be. ’nd gettin’ slick all on her own. That’s a real good sign, sweets. You gonna make some lucky bastard very happy one day with a cunt like this.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, torn between the throb of pleasure building in your core and the burning embarrassment climbing up your neck.

He didn’t stop. “Don’t find pussy like this every day… so fuckin’ tight. Hell, like a goddamn fist. This thing’s easily a ten outta ten…” He let the silence hang, just long enough to make you wonder… and then. “…Although.”

Your eyes opened slowly. “…W-What, Dr. Miller?”

He met your gaze, steady and unreadable. “Well,” he said casually, “I’d have to taste it to be sure.”

Your breath hitched. “Taste…?”

“Mhm.” He nodded like it was nothing, like this was just protocol. “A proper taste. With my tongue. Gotta make sure there’s no off smell, no odd flavor. That can be a sign of infection, y’know? Might not show up on the surface.”

You hesitated, feeling your mind buzzing, but Joel just waited, calm and unbothered, like a man who’d already made the decision for you. And… he was the doctor, not you, he’d gone to med school for this, he knew what he was doing. So you nodded, small and uncertain, but enough for him to proceed.

Joel didn’t waste another second, he dipped his head down, and the first thing you felt was the hot, humid drag of his breath ghosting over your soaked cunt. Then the slick heat of his tongue, starting at your entrance and slowly gliding up your slit until it flicked your clit with a hungry swipe. He groaned into you like he was the one being touched, one lick wasn’t nearly enough, he dove back in, tongue flattening against your folds before he began lapping at your pussy with filthy enthusiasm, no hesitation, no shame, just desperate, starved need. He slurped and sucked, swallowing every bit of slick you gave him, like he was trying to get drunk on it.

“Dr… Dr. Miller—i-is it okay?” you asked, your voice sounding breathless and shaky.

He pulled back, his chin was wet with you. “Oh, sweets…” he rasped. “This pussy? Ain’t no fuckin’ 10 outta 10.”

Your stomach dropped. “N-no? What’s wrong? Did you find something?”

Joel’s lips curled into a wicked grin. “This pussy’s a goddamn 20 outta 10. Addictive as hell. Got one little taste and now I can’t stop.” He punctuated it with a filthy, teasing suck to your clit, making you cry out and jolt in place. “You think you’re ready for another test, sweets?” he asked.

You nodded before you could stop yourself. “W-what kind of test?”

“Well…” he drawled, kissing your inner thigh. “I gotta check the sensitivity of those nerve endings real good. Make sure everythin’s workin’ the way it should. I’m gonna eat this pretty pussy til you give me a proper orgasm. That sound alright?”

“An-an orgasm?” you repeated, your voice trembling. “A-Are you sure, Dr. Miller? I don’t think that’s—”

��Yes, sweets,” he interrupted firmly. “An orgasm. What’s wrong? Don’t trust me now?”

“N-no! I trust you, I do…” you rushed to say, feeling your cheeks burning. “It’s just… I’ve never heard of this kind of exam before…”

Joel gave you a slow, almost patronizing smile. “I know, sweets. That’s ‘cause most doctors wouldn’t even know what to do with a pussy like this. But I promise you, it’s very standard practice in my hands.” He licked his lips. “Now… can I continue?”

You gave him a small, shaky nod. That was all he needed, he dove right back in. His tongue found your clit instantly, giving it a slow, languid lick before sealing his lips around it and sucking hard. Your spine arched off the couch, a desperate cry catching in your throat, but he didn’t let up, he alternated between torturously slow flicks of his tongue and rough, greedy pulls that had your hips jerking, your thighs shaking around his head.

“Oh—oh, Dr. Miller, that’s—oh God!” you gasped, shame burning hot in your cheeks as your body betrayed you, letting your hips rock up into his mouth, your cunt soaking his tongue with every hungry stroke.

“That’s it, sweets,” he murmured against your dripping heat. “Let it all go f’me. This pussy tastes like heaven… be a good girl and give Dr. Miller that orgasm.”

He fucked you with his tongue in deep strokes, his nose pressed to your clit as he devoured you like a man on a mission. His tongue pushed in and out of your soaked hole while his mouth kept working, messily and hungrily, until your thighs were trembling around his head. A few more filthy sucks on your swollen clit and it hit you, your orgasm ripped through you like a lightning strike, so intense it made your toes curl.

Joel finally pulled back, his salt-and-pepper beard glistening with your slick, and he licked his bottom lip like he was savoring the last drops of something too good to let it go to waste.

“H-how’d I do on the exam?” you asked in a shaky breath, your chest still rising and falling from the intensity of your climax.

He smirked. “You passed with flyin’ colors. Those nerve endings are real sharp, sweets. And you… you look like a fuckin’ angel when you cum.”

You would’ve blushed if your face wasn’t already burning. Embarrassment swelled in your chest, and instinctively you tried to close your legs.

“Ah-ah.” Joel’s voice dropped. “Did I say you could close your legs? Don’t be shy now. Exam ain’t over yet.”

“Th-there’s more?” you asked. What else could there be? He’d already fingered you, tasted you, made you cum…

“Oh yeah, sweets,” he drawled. “See, elasticity’s just as important. I know you could take my fingers, and they’re pretty damn thick, if I do say so, but I need to know for sure you can handle somethin’ longer and thicker. That’s crucial.”

“W-what do you mean by… longer and thicker?” your voice was barely a whisper, part of you knowing the answer.

Joel just chuckled, as his fingers moved to undo his belt. The sound of the buckle clinking made your heart skip, and your eyes dropped, his pants were already stained with pre-cum, a big, dark, sticky patch from how much he’d been leaking and creaming just from tasting and playing with your soaked pussy.

“Need to make sure you can take cock, sweets,” he said. “Real cock. Not some sad little inch from a boy who don’t know what to do with it.”

Joel let his pants drop to the floor, and the second you saw what he’d been hiding, your breath caught in your throat. Your eyes widened, lips parting in stunned silence as you took in the sheer size of him. Calling him big would be the understatement of the century, that thing between his legs was massive. His cock stood proud and thick, his shaft decorated with pulsing veins and his tip was flushed angry red, glistening with arousal like it had been waiting for this moment for too long.

He spit into his hand, then wrapped his fist around his cock and gave it a few lazy strokes, the wet sound making your thighs clench. “You ready for it, sweets?” he asked like a warning and a promise all in one. “You’re in for one hell of a stretch.”

“Dr. Miller… I-I don’t know…” you stammered, glancing between his cock and your own trembling body. “It’s too big. I don’t think I can…”

“Hey.” His voice was gentler now, but still rough around the edges. “Don’t be scared. Pussy’s made to stretch. ’Nd yours?” He gave himself another pump. “Yours was fuckin’ built to take this cock. I’ll make it fit. You just relax ’nd let me show you.”

Before you could get another word out, Joel had already lined the fat, swollen head of his cock up to your entrance. He didn’t even have to push, your pussy was practically sucking him in, but when he did press forward, a broken little cry slipped from your lips. His tip breached you, forcing your slick heat to stretch wide around the thick crown. It burned with a delicious, overwhelming sting that lit up your nerves and had your body twitching as it tried to adjust to the impossible stretch of him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweets,” Joel groaned, his voice sounding ragged. “Ain’t never felt anythin’ this tight. This pussy’s one of a fuckin’ kind.”

He was in heaven, his cock finally buried in something warm, wet, real. After too many lonely nights and too many empty fists, this was paradise, and it was too good to hold back. With a low growl, he gave one rough thrust, burying all of himself inside you in one deep, punishing stroke, balls flush against your ass as he bottomed out.

“Dr. Miller! F-fuck!” you whimpered, your eyes went wide and teary as you tried to breathe through the sheer fullness, your pussy pulsing around every thick, twitching inch of him.

Joel might’ve meant to give you a second to adjust, hell, he swore he would, but the moment he felt your cunt gripping him like a vice, all thoughts of patience went out the window, his brain short-circuited. He pulled out nearly to the tip, then slammed back in with a grunt, hips snapping forward hard. Then again and again, each thrust was more aggressive, more desperate than the last, his cock punching deep into your slick heat like it was the only thing that had ever mattered.

“F-fuck, sweets,” he gasped, barely holding himself together. “You feel too fuckin’ good. Oh, what the hell are you doin’ to me?”

“D-Dr. Miller—f-feels so—so good,” you whimpered, your voice trembling with every sharp plunge of his hips.

“Ohhh yeah,” Joel groaned. “This pussy’s got a damn good grip… stretchin’ out real nice f’me. That’s it. That’s how a good pussy’s meant to be… tight, warm, and takin’ it.”

His heavy balls, slick and wet from the mess leaking out of you, were smacking against your ass, the sound was obscene and echoing around the room, a wet rhythm that matched the ragged moans pouring from both your mouths.

“Yeah, sweets?” Joel rasped, panting hard above you. “You feel that? Feel me deep? Tell Dr. Miller exactly how his cock’s makin’ you feel.”

You could barely breathe, barely think, but you managed through moans and gasps to reply. “F-feels deep… l-like in my belly… and—and I’m so full, s-so full…”

Joel grabbed hold of your legs, his big hands lifting them high and folding them over his broad shoulders, the new angle had him driving deeper, and your breath hitched at the overwhelming stretch. “You feel me deeper now, huh?” he growled.

You nodded frantically, gasping as one of his hands moved to your belly, pressing against the firm bulge of his cock slamming into you. The extra pressure he was applying made you cry out, your back arching as pleasure ricocheted through your entire body. And he nearly lost his mind when he saw the outline forming in your tummy, his cock visibly stretching you from the inside, he couldn’t get enough of the way your body molded around him, squeezing him tight, holding him like you never wanted to let go.

“Look at that,” Joel rasped. “See where I am? That’s me, right up against your fuckin’ cervix, sweets. Deep in this perfect little body.”

You were too cock-drunk to respond, your mind was hazy with nothing but him. Joel’s cock was battering some spot inside you that had your legs trembling, your toes curling, your brain going static from the pleasure.

“Hey,” Joel grunted, slamming in harder to yank you back from the edge. “Focus. Last test now. You need to gimme one more orgasm. Need to feel this pussy clench up tight with my cock this time. Gotta make sure you’re really healthy.”

You nodded, unable to do anything else, Joel’s fingers dropped between your thighs, finding your soaked clit, he rubbed rough, fast circles matching the steady, brutal rhythm of his thrusts and it didn’t take long, you broke with a scream as your orgasm tore through you, your cunt pulsing around him, milking his cock with desperate, needy squeezes.

“Fuck yeah,” he groaned, tipping his head back. “Just like that. That’s what I needed.”

Joel growled feral, like something barely human. His hands locked onto your hips with bruising strength, fingers digging into your flesh as he slammed up into you with punishing force. You cried out, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes, maybe a little from pain, but mostly from the sheer overwhelm of it, of him, of the way he was wrecking your pussy with every desperate thrust. He was chasing his release, starving for it, and with the way your cunt kept fluttering around him, hot and soaked and gripping him like it didn’t want to let go, he didn’t stand a chance.

At this point, the head of his cock was pounding deep against your cervix, bruising it with every merciless thrust “Shhh,” he cooed. “I know ’s a lot, but you can take it, sweets. You’re doin’ fuckin’ amazin’ in this test.”

“Ah… ah!!! Dr. Miller!” you sobbed.

His fingers brushed the tears from your cheek, gentle for a quick moment, before his hips slammed into you harder than before, like he wasn’t letting you go for anything.

“Just a lil more, ’m almost there,” he groaned. “Last part of the test is seein’ how this sweet pussy can take a big load. ’S very important.” He moaned, “Oh goddamn, you’re cuttin’ off my cock’s blood flow, sweets.”

You squirmed beneath him, your body instinctively clenching around his as he kept pounding with a fierce, almost violent intensity.“Fuck-fuck, gonna cum—”

He drove in one final time, burying himself balls deep, cock twitching as he came hard, like he hadn’t had a proper release in years. You gasped at the feeling of the thick, molten ropes of cum spilling inside you, coating your walls and filling you up to the brim. You whimpered as he slowly pulled out, he was watching in a daze as his cum spilled from your used and abused hole in lazy drips, wetting the couch beneath you.

“Look at that,” he said watching your hole flutter around nothing. “Pretty pussy’s tryin’ to keep it all in, yeah, that’s real fuckin’ good, sweets. Means your body’s workin’ just right. Strong breedin’ instincts, just the way it should be.”

“S-So… how was the test, Dr. Miller?” you asked through a dazed smile.

Joel looked down at you with dark, satisfied eyes. “Oh, you exceeded, sweets,” he said, giving your thigh a possessive squeeze. “But just to be thorough… I’ll need to schedule a follow-up next week.”

A/N: I was totally on a roll writing this, it ended up longer than I thought it would cause I just couldn’t stop writing, barely got any sleep last night cause I stayed up all night to finish it, I already had most of it planned out in my head and I was so motivated I couldn’t stop until it was done😭 I could definitely spend more time polishing it, but honestly? I proof-read it once and I kinda like how it turned out, so I decided to just drop it like this.

It’s my first time writing something a little more on the dark-ish side, so I really hope you all enjoy it!! And if you do, your comments, reblogs, and likes make me extra happy. Thank you so much for all the support🩷🩷

dividers by: @/haecunt

[sethell]

I’m just waiting for Venom actually uses that tongue (a girl can hope, okay??). Also the way he absolutely worships Eddie’s girlfriend?? I love him. He’s so unhinged and so grateful and it’s everything.

Thought I’d share a little sneak peek of part two of Laundry Mix-up, currently in the works. Sorry Eddie girlies for leaving you stranded.

“Now, Eddie,” Venom’s voice slithered into his mind, thick with amusement. “Use more tongue. NO. NOT LIKE AN ICE CREAM CONE. Get in there. Jesus Christ, and you say you’ve done this before?”

Eddie pulled back slightly, letting his forehead rest against your inner thigh. He was breathing hard, his face was red and his jaw wet. He took a steadying breath, trying to ignore the sarcastic snickering in his skull.

“IT’S EATING PUSSY, EDDIE. NOT ROCKET SCIENCE.”

[sethell]

I want venom. I. WANT. VENOM.

Look at this cutie

“Laundry mix up”

Eddie Brock x Neighbor!Reader

Masterlist here

Summary: Due to a laundry mix-up, your neighbor Eddie ends up with one of your thongs—and he has no intention of giving it back.

WC: 6k (This shit is way too long for all smut, Jesus Christ, there must be something wrong with my brain)

Warnings/Tags: smut, minors DNI, dirty talk, masturbation, lingerie kink?, oral (m!receiving), female!reader, venom being venom, set between the first and second movie, awkard eddie.

The first time Eddie saw you, you were wrestling with a box twice your size in the hallway, one bare shoulder pressed to the side of it as you struggled with the lock to your new apartment.

Eddie had been on his way out, hoodie half-zipped, takeout menu folded in one hand, and Venom growling in the back of his mind about how humans eat garbage. But then he saw you, in that tank top, those shorts that clung like sin, messy hair, and he abruptly stopped.

“Uh—hey, need a hand with that?” He heard himself say.

You turned, eyes flicking over him for the briefest second before smiling. A proper, slow, flirtatious smile, the kind that made his heart skip a beat.

“No thanks. I’ve got it,” you replied, voice low and warm, a little teasing. “But good to know someone around here is actually nice.”

Eddie chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

Venom whispered inside his brain: “She smells good. Can I eat her?”

You were only his new neighbor, and that quickly became a problem, because Eddie wasn’t exactly a man in control of his own mind. Especially not with Venom in there.

You two started talking in small doses, it was only elevator conversations, jokes in the laundry room, a few lingering glances that made him wonder if you could feel it too—whatever this was.

“You want her,” Venom said one night as Eddie stood by the kitchen window, half a beer in his hand.

“No. No, I don’t,” he mumbled.

“Liar.” he said. “I’m tired of you being a pussy, you should take her. Just pick her up. Tell her she’s yours. She wants you.”

“Whatever, V.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re still mourning over Anne,” Venom roared. “We are so over Anne.”

“It’s not about Anne!” Eddie snapped. “Don’t bring Anne into—”

“Then tell me,” Venom growled inside his skull, “if Anne got Dan then why we can’t mate with the hot neighbor?”

“Because this ain’t the goddamn law of the jungle, pal. And ‘mating’ doesn’t work like that!”

“I don’t know what the hell happened to you, Eddie,” Venom grumbled in his head. “I’ve seen your memories— you used to have some game, pal. Now you’re just… floundering. Pathetic.”

“Yeah, well… life happened,” Eddie muttered, running a hand through his hair. “You seen her? She’s insanely hot. Like, melt-your-brain hot. She’s probably got a whole damn waiting list of guys dying to buy her coffee, and I’m over here forgetting how to talk when I see her.”

“We could eat the others.”

“Still not helping, buddy.”

The dryer buzzed. Eddie was already regretting leaving his laundry till the last minute again, he was down to his last pair of clean boxers.

He opened the dryer door and started pulling the clothes into the basket, not really looking. A hoodie, some socks, a t-shirt, and then… something small, black and lacy caught on the edge of the drum and fell into his hand.

Eddie stared, it was a thong.

Not just a thong. The thong. Tiny, with a little bow, and so delicate it barely weighed anything, the kind of thing he’d imagined you in before. The kind of thing that didn’t seem like it could possibly be functional, the kind of thing someone wore when they wanted to be seen, when they wanted to tease, to ruin someone else.

The fabric dangled from his fingers like it knew what it was doing.

Venom purred. “Ooooooh. That’s hers. I can smell it.”

Eddie’s stomach twisted, his throat went dry and his pants got tighter.

“Oh no.”

“Oh Yes.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie muttered, tossing the thong toward the basket like it burned. It landed softly on top of a towel—mocking him still.

Venom huckled darkly. “Definitely hers. And she wore it recently. Mmm, bet I can still taste her.”

“Shut up.” His voice cracked, rough with arousal and shame. “Shut the hell up.”

“Do you think she left it here on purpose?” Venom hissed gleefully. “Marking her territory? Begging you to find it? Wanting you to react to it?”

Eddie let out a strained noise, somewhere between a groan and a whimper.

“Christ, you’re insane.”

“I’m not the one hard over a pair of panties,” Venom sneered, amused.

“I’m not—fuck off.”

Eddie dragged his hand down his face again, his pulse thundering. He couldn’t stop picturing it—you pulling that thong up your thighs, the way it would hug your hips, disappear between your cheeks, the way it would smell after you wore it all day. He leaned against the dryer, eyes shut tight, trying not to let the fantasy spiral.

Venom growled low and hungry. “Take it home.”

“I am not.”

“Sure.”

…

He stood frozen in his apartment, the thong still in his hand.

His brain was doing somersaults, because obviously, this was an accident, a simple mistake, you’d probably tossed in a load late at night, mixed it with his by mistake. It happened, it was a normal honest mistake. But he couldn’t stop looking at it, at how tiny it was, how soft, how impossibly intimate.

“She wore this.” Venom’s voice slid through his chest. “It touched her. We could smell her on it if you let me—”

“NOPE,” Eddie snapped aloud, shoving the thong deep into his hoodie pocket like it might explode if he looked at it one second longer.

He started pacing.

“This is wrong. I’m not that guy. I’m not some creep who—who sniffs his neighbor’s—Jesus, what is wrong with me?”

“You want her,” Venom growled, low and matter-of-fact. “You’ve always wanted her. And now, after a whole year of celibacy, blue balls and sad showers, you’re losing your mind like some horny teenager.”

“No. I’m gonna go over there and return it to her. Tell her it was a mistake.”

“We have a trophy, Eddie! A GIFT! why would you want to throw it away like a coward?”

“Because I’m not a goddamn pervert!”

“No, you’re just a hungry, touch-starved, pathetic little man.”

Eddie dragged a hand through his hair, then sat heavily on the edge of his bed. The thong was burning a hole in his pocket, his mind was spinning in the worst kind of way—fast, filthy, uncontrollable. Images flickering like wildfire, images of you, naked, bent over a counter, hips rocking, that little scrap of fabric on the floor.

“God. I need help.”

“She would help. If you asked nicely. If you growled a little. She’d love it.”

“Christ, man. Stop. I mean it.”

Eddie didn’t move to return the thong to you.

…

It was just after 1 a.m. The city outside Eddie’s window was buzzing with low life and sirens, he was lying in bed, shirtless, the covers pushed down around his hips. His skin was hot. His thoughts, worse.

That damn thong was next to him. He’d tried to forget about it, he really had, tried going for a run, watching old movies, reading the newspaper, even did the dishes, anything to keep his hands busy, anything to distract himself from the way his cock had been aching—throbbing—for over an hour.

But his dick was still hard, he could feel it drooling at the tip. Painful with the kind of need that didn’t just settle in his body, but in his bones.

“Touch it,” Venom whispered, low and guttural inside his head. “You know you want to.”

Eddie groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

“This is so wrong.”

“She wants you to. She probably left it for you.” Venom’s voice was dark silk, soaked in hunger. “She wants you to lose it. Wants you to wrap it around your cock while you think about ruining her pretty little throat.”

Eddie didn’t answer, instead, his hand slid beneath the waistband of his boxers. Just to ease the pressure, he told himself. Just to take the edge off, just to stop his cock from leaking precum onto his stomach like some fucking teenager.

The second he wrapped his fingers around his aching cock, a sharp breath escaped him. It was hot, heavy, the head so sensitive that even the glide of his palm made his hips jerk.

His mind began to wonder. You—on your knees in his kitchen. Eyes wide and innocent, but your mouth so filthy, stretched around him, drool running down your chin.

You—straddling him, mouth parted, voice whispering his name like it was yours. Grinding on him slow, panties pulled to the side, slick soaking him as you whimpered into his neck.

You—laughing as you dropped that tiny scrap of black lace in his lap, telling him “you’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?”

His hand moved faster over his thick length. Fist tight, twisting at the top, every stroke dragging a shiver down his spine, smearing the leaking precum from his tip down to his shaft, letting it get all wet. He reached in the dark for your thong, and wrapped it around his knuckles, dragging it up his cock, imagining it was your tongue instead.

“That’s it,” Venom hissed, delighted. “Think of her. Think of her wet, begging for you—”

“Jesus—shut up, get out of my head,” Eddie gasped, even as his hips rocked into his fist, chasing that release with desperation he hadn’t felt in years. His body was tight, every nerve on fire, all of it focused on you.

“Look at you,” Venom snarled, delighted. “Sweaty, moaning her name, fucking your fist like it’s the only hole we’ll ever get. Tragic.”

“I don’t need a narrator,” Eddie growled through clenched teeth, thrusting frantically into his fist. “Just—just shut up. Let me have this. Just one goddamn minute.”

He ignored Venom and imagined your thighs wrapped around his waist, your fingernails dragging down his back, your voice, high and breathy, “Harder, Eddie—God, don’t stop—”

He came hard, so hard his whole body seized, cum spurted over his hand, hot and thick and endless, leaking between his fingers and onto the sheets. The orgasm was so intense it made his eyes roll back, his back arch off the mattress, his chest rising and falling with ragged, uneven breaths. His stomach was a mess, his thighs shook, his mouth hung open on a silent moan.

His hot, sticky cum coated his fingers as he collapsed against the pillows, shaking with the aftershocks of it, it was slowly dripping down his wrist but he didn’t even have the strength to clean it up.

“You’re an embarrassment,” Venom purred. “You should’ve gone next door. Told her how you feel. Pushed her against the wall and fucked her like you wanted to.”

Eddie groaned.

“Man, we should be fucking her,” Venom barked, “not your hand. You’re a disgrace to horny men everywhere.”

“I hate you.”

“I hate you more. I’m stuck with a pathetic excuse for a man who’d rather jerk off instead of banging his hot neighbor.”

Eddie lay there, heart still pounding, sweat cooling on his chest, hand limp on his stomach. The thong was still wrapped around his fist, soaked, reeking of sex, shame and everything he couldn’t have.

“Please,” Venom groaned, equal parts disgusted and amused. “Go wash your damn hand. I swear, if I wake up glued to the sheets again, I’m eating the mattress.”

Eddie let out a broken laugh, still breathless. “Jesus, you’re so fucking dramatic—”

“No, you’re disgusting.” Venom snapped. “And if she ever finds out what you just did thinking about her—oh, the shame, Eddie. The shame.”

…

Eddie swore he was going to return the panties. The next morning, he almost did, got as far as your door, the thong folded neatly in his hoodie pocket, hand raised to knock, but he turned around, went back inside, and jerked off so hard it made his legs shake.

Now, it was like a routine. Midnight, lights off, apartment quiet, and there he’d be, in bed, fingers curling around your thong like it was sacred, holding it to his face, inhaling the faint, lingering trace of your scent, stroking himself slow, then faster, like it hurted not to.

He wrapped it around his fist and fuck it with the kind of desperate, aching rhythm that left him gasping, grinding his hips up into the fabric, fucking it like he’d fuck you—deep, needy, filthy.

He started talking to you in the dark, whispering into the sheets.

“You’d take it so good, baby. God, I’d split you open on this cock. You’d beg for it. Cry for it.”

Telling you how tight you’d feel, how soft your skin would be, how long he’d make you take it—slow, then rough, then slow again until you were shaking and begging and—

But tonight a different thought crept up behind it. A dirtier one, a ridiculous idea, one that he couldn’t take out of his brain..

“Try it on.”

His face flushed instantly. “No. Fucking no. That’s—no.”

“Just do it.”

“Venom, get out of my thoughts.”

“Just once. I know you want to.”

His hand shook as he brought it to his waist, like his body was already making the decision for him before his rational thoughts had any chance to say otherwise. He stepped out of his boxers and bent slightly, lifting one foot, then the other, sliding that little black thong up. The band stretched tight around his hips, it was way too small for him, he had to pull the fabric carefully to keep it from snapping.

When it was in place it dug tight between his asscheeks, pressing snug to the curve of his aching cock and balls, he let out a strangled sound, something between a whimper and a moan.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

It looked obscene on him, it hugged everything, making his cock look bigger, more sensitive somehow. His balls were spilling out the sides, the tiny scrap of fabric was doing a miserable job at holding anything in, barely stretching over the thick girth of his cock.

“You’re so pathetic,” Venom purred. “But you look surprisingly good in that.”

He palmed himself over the thong, his cock throbbed through the fabric, twitching with every rub, the tip already soaking the black lace with pre-cum. Just the mental image of you wearing that same thing, hugging your ass and cunt the same way it was now hugging his cock, made him throb in anticipation.

The friction felt surprisingly good, the lace rasped over his swollen cockhead, catching against the veins down the shaft. He could feel every seam, every thread. He pulled the fabric aside to free the thick length of his cock, just enough to stroke himself properly, but he kept the rest on, tight around his hips, and in between his cheeks. He could feel it every time he moved, and it made his whole body feel like it belonged to someone else. Like he was yours in some fucked-up way.

The lace rubbed under his balls, ruthless against the sensitive skin, and he rocked into it like he needed it. His orgasm hit him hard and fast. He arched off the bed, cock shooting rope after rope of cum that painted his stomach, the thong, the bedsheets. His hand didn’t stop moving even as his vision blurred and he choked on a moan that turned into a laugh. A fucking laugh.

“Pathetic little human,” Venom crooned, low in Eddie’s skull. “You’re addicted. Obsessed. Do you think she’d be shocked if she knew? Or turned on?”

Eddie’s eyes fluttered closed, cum cooling on his skin, your thong still wrapped around his cock.

He hoped to God the answer was turned on.

One night there was a knock on his door.

Eddie flinched like he’d been caught doing something illegal. Which, in a way… he had. Last night. With your underwear. In his bed.

“Open it,” Venom growled in his chest. “It’s her. She smells…sweet tonight.”

Eddie swallowed hard and cracked the door open. You were standing there in little denim shorts and a tank top that clung to your curves like it had been painted on, hair loose, lips glossed. You leaned on the doorframe like you owned it.

“Hey, neighbor.”

His mouth went dry.

“ACT NORMAL. NO, WAIT, DON’T ACT LIKE YOURSELF. ACT COOL.” Venom yelled inside his mind.

“Uh… hey.”

You smiled, one side of your mouth twitching like you could smell his panic.

“Sorry to bother you. I forgot my phone charger at work today. You wouldn’t happen to have a spare one, would you?”

“Y-yeah,” he managed. “Yeah, I’ve got a spare one.”

“LET HER IN,” Venom practically moaned.

Eddie stepped back, heart thudding like a drum. You walked past him, slow and easy, he couldn’t help but watch the way your hips moved—graceful, lazy, like a cat in the sun.

The same hips he’d imagined bouncing on his lap.

Focus, man.

“Uh… Sorry it’s a little messy,” Eddie muttered, scratching the back of his neck as he glanced around the apartment. Messy was an understatement. There were plates stacked in the sink, half-drunk beer bottles on the table, takeout containers shoved everywhere, and—were those feathers on the floor? Yeah. Definitely feathers. Remnants of whatever Venom had called “dinner” the other night.

You stepped inside carefully, eyeing the organized chaos. “It’s alright,” you said, lips quirking into a grin. “It has personality.”

Eddie blinked. “That’s… a nice way of putting it.”

“Your bed has personality too, Eddie. Show it to her.”

He fumbled through his desk drawers, his fingers trembling slightly as he searched for the charger.

You watched him. “You always this nervous when a girl is in your place?” You teased gently.

He glanced at you over his shoulder, trying to play it cool. “Only when she looks like she belongs on the cover of something I can’t afford.”

You laughed—low, real—and Eddie felt like someone had punched him in the chest.

“Well, well,” Venom purred, amused. “That wasn’t so bad, Casanova. Almost sounded like a functioning adult.”

“Smooth,” you said, taking a step closer. “And are you always this charming?”

“No,” he muttered, too honest, too quick.

“Tell her she smells good,” Venom said. “Just don’t make it weird. Wait, never mind—you will.”

Another step, and now you were just a few feet away, he could smell your perfume—warm, something sweet layered over your skin.

He felt Venom stir, curious and hungry.

“She wants you. Say something. Do something. Pin her against the wall. Fuck her like—”

“Shut up,” Eddie whispered.

You blinked. “Sorry?”

His eyes went wide. “Oh, no—I wasn’t—I wasn’t talking to you. I, uh, I have this... brain injury.”

You laughed again, this time with a raised brow. “Right. That explains a lot.”

You took the charger from his hands, but didn’t head straight toward the door. Instead, you lingered there, just a couple feet away, eyes fixed on his face.

“Why do I feel like I know you from somewhere?” you said, eyes narrowing as you searched his face, trying to place him.

“From your dreams!”

“Yeah… I get that a lot,” Eddie replied, his voice a little stiff.

Then your eyes lit up. “Oh! I know—you’re Brock. Eddie Brock.”

"AND VENOM."

He gave a sheepish shrug, scratching the back of his head. “That’s what it says on my ID.”

You grinned. “I knew you looked familiar. My grandma used to love your show—you know, The Eddie Brock Report?”

“Your grandma…” Eddie grimaced. “That doesn’t make me feel old at all.”

“It was a great show.” You laughed, nudging him. “Anyway, thanks for the loan,” you called over your shoulder. “I’ll return it. Maybe tomorrow.”

The door clicked shut behind you and Eddie stood there, brain fried, heart pounding, hard as a rock under his sweatpants.

“Lame,” Venom purred. “She wants to climb you like a tree. She’s like a cat in heat. And you just stood there. Pathetic.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re soft.”

“Yeah.”

“You are a coward, Eddie.”

“Yeah.”

Eddie sat on the couch, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms while Venom was pacing inside his skull like a caged animal.

“She came in here,” Venom hissed. “She was close. She smelled like want. And you let her walk out.”

“I’m not… I’m not ready for that,” Eddie muttered.

“There we go again.”

He pressed his face into his hands.

“She’s younger. Hotter. She probably thinks I’m a loser. Look at me, man—I look worse than I’ve ever looked, I don't have a steady job, I pay a rent I can barely afford. I’m not some—some smooth guy she’s waiting on. I’m the weird neighbor who talks to himself.”

Venom snarled.

“Yes, you’re insignificant, lame, and puny. But you’re not gonna do anything with all that self pity. You’re the man she wants. You smell what I smell, her body’s on fire when you’re near. She’s thinking about it. Fantasizing. Just like you.”

Eddie swallowed hard. “I’m not the same as I used to be,” he said quietly.

And that was true. Before everything fell apart—his job, Anne, the whole alien symbiote situation—he’d been confident, charming, even. He’d had purpose.

Now?

He jerked off with your underwear clutched in his fist and then pretended not to stare when you stopped to chat in the hallway.

“You are so weak. It’s sad really. She wants to mate with you and you’re here like a virgin.” Venom said, voice curling through Eddie’s skull like smoke. “I can’t believe you used to have sex daily, and honestly? From your memories? You didn’t even suck most of the time. Shocking, really.”

“Okay, first of all, she doesn’t want to ‘mate’ with me,” Eddie hissed under his breath, glancing over his shoulder like you might somehow overhear him from two rooms away. “And secondly, thank you.”

Venom huffed. “We should be out in the world. Eating heads. Getting head.” Venom laughed, low and rumbling. “Giving head too. ‘Cause we’re gentlemen.”

Eddie dragged a hand down his face. “You are not a gentleman.”

“Excuse you—I opened the door for her last week. That counts.”

“That was me, you jackass. You just screamed in my brain the whole time about how her jeans were ‘a work of sinful textile engineering.’”

“They were! You’re the one who got all shy and ruined it. You could’ve devoured her right there in the stairwell.”

“Not everything is about sex and consumption,” Eddie gritted.

“Oh but it is, Eddie. It is. We’re basically a walking wet dream. I’m a lethal, throbbing apex predator with a six-pack… and you… well you have your anxiety. I’m sure some women find that attractive. We should be doing something with that.”

Eddie groaned, rubbing at his temple. “Please shut up. You are so fucked in the head.”

“And horny, Eddie, don’t forget horny. I can fix this,” Venom growled. “Let me take over. We’ll go to her. Push her up against the wall. Make her beg for us.”

Eddie’s gut clenched. “Jesus, no.”

Venom cackled. “Then grow a spine, Eddie. Do something before someone else does.”

That last bit landed hard. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned his head back against the couch, jaw clenched.

“You think she’d really…?”

“Yes,” Venom hissed. “She’d let you fuck her until she can’t stand straight. She’d moan your name until the neighbors know. All you have to do is act.”

Eddie groaned. He was hard already, the ache too familiar, and without even thinking, his hand slipped beneath his waistband—again. And just like that, the routine began, but this time, the shame was louder.

“There we go,” Venom purred, watching through Eddie’s eyes. “Stroke it like a pathetic little pervert. Oh wait—you are one.”

“Tomorrow,” Eddie breathed.

“What?” Venom hissed.

“I’ll talk to her. Tomorrow. I swear.”

“No more jerking off like a teenager.”

“Okay.”

“No more hiding.”

“Okay.”

“You will fuck her or I will do it for you.”

“V, please—”

“Deal?”

Eddie shut his eyes, hand still moving, breath picking up. “Deal.”

“She’d be riding our face by now if you had an ounce of dominance in that soft little meat body,” Venom sneered. “Instead, you’re over here moaning into your hand like a loser.”

Tomorrow, he told himself.

But tonight?

Tonight, he came hard, moaning into the dark, with your name on his lips.

The cookies were still warm when you tucked them into the little tin. You didn’t usually bake, it wasn’t your thing, but you’d been restless all day—thinking about last night, about the way Eddie looked at you like he wanted to devour you but didn’t know how. You liked it, you liked him. The quiet awkwardness, the softness under all that scruff and shyness.

And now you were standing at his door again, bare-faced, hair loose, wearing a big old sweatshirt and tiny shorts underneath—just short enough to show your thighs just right.

You knocked. A pause. Footsteps. The door opened a crack—and then wider.

Eddie blinked at you, staring at the tin like it might explode.

“Hey,” you said, all casual. “Peace offering.”

“I, uh—what?”

You smiled. “Cookies. I made them. To say thanks for the charger last night.”

“You… baked?” He looked skeptical, then immediately apologetic. “You didn’t have to”

“I wanted to,” you held it out, and he reached for it like it might vanish.

“THAT’S WIFE MATERIAL OVER THERE, EDDIE!” Venom bellowed, rattling around in Eddie’s skull like a drunk frat boy on a megaphone. “ASK HER TO COME IN. NOW.”

“Wanna come in?” he asked, stepping back.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Eddie closed the door behind you and stood awkwardly while you made yourself at home—again. You popped open the tin, plucked out a cookie, and held it up to him.

“C’mon. Be honest. If it sucks, I’ll pretend not to cry.”

Eddie took it—your fingers brushing—and took a slow bite.

His eyes closed. You bit your lip.

“…Holy shit,” he mumbled, mouth full. “This is actually—this is really good.”

You grinned. “Told you.”

“EDDIE,” Venom thundered in Eddie’s mind. “KEEP HER. MARRY HER. GIVE HER BABIES. ALSO—GIVE ME ANOTHER COOKIE.”

Eddie coughed and nearly choked.

“Y’okay?” you laughed.

“Yeah. Yeah. Just, uh—brain injury.”

“Right, I remember.”

You took one yourself, leaning back against the counter, licking melted chocolate from your thumb. Eddie looked like he might combust, his sweatpants weren’t hiding a damn thing now, the huge bulge under them was clear as the day.

“SHE IS DOING THAT ON PURPOSE,” Venom growled gleefully. “SHE KNOWS YOU’RE A WEAK MAN.”

You met his eyes and he didn’t look away.

“You can’t even talk to her without getting a boner,” Venom muttered. “Pull yourself together. You’re embarrassing both of us.”

“So,” you said slowly, “I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s dangerous,” he said, before he could stop himself. He made his way to the couch, maybe if he sat down, spread out and casually pulled a cushion over his lap, you wouldn’t notice the way his cock was throbbing, straining against the thin fabric of his sweats.

You raised a brow, grinning. “Okay, smartass. I was gonna say… I’ve been thinking about another way of saying thank you.”

Eddie’s throat bobbed. “Yeah?”

You took a step closer, stepping between his knees, where he’d sunk onto the edge of the couch without realizing it.

“DO SOMETHING,” Venom snarled. “NOW. SHE IS IN FRONT OF YOU. GET ON YOUR KNEES, EDDIE—NO, WAIT, GET HER ON HER KNEES—”

And then you were doing it for him. You dropped to your knees slowly, purposefully, hands trailing up his thighs. He sucked in a breath like you’d punched him.

You spread his legs a little wider with your palms, your nails dragging lightly through the soft fabric, your breath ghosted over the bulge in his sweatpants, you felt the tremor roll through him.

“OH MY GOD,” Venom practically moaned. “I AM SEEING THROUGH YOUR EYES. I LOVE THIS. I LOVE HER.”

Eddie’s breath hitched as your fingers grazed the bulge in his sweatpants. It was thick, and it twitched under your touch, hot and heavy and aching for attention. You could feel the shape of him through the cotton, you could already imagine how he’d feel against your tongue.

“Fuck—” Eddie whispered, his pupils were blown wide, his mouth slack. “You’re really… doing this.”

You dragged your fingers along the outline—slowly, deliberately, like you were unwrapping a gift, earning a strangled, wrecked noise from him.

“Is this okay?” you murmured.

He nodded, voice lost.

“I want to make you feel good,” you whispered.

He reached out—like he didn’t know whether to stop you or pull you closer—but he stopped himself when your lips brushed over the thick outline of him, teasing with every slow drag of your mouth. You nuzzled your nose against the heavy bulge, humming softly like you were getting to know it, testing the weight, the girth, the way it twitched for you even without skin-to-skin contact.

Eddie couldn’t believe his fucking eyes. You, on your knees, mouthing at his cock through his sweats like it was the best thing in the world, that was the most glorious sight he’d ever seen.

“I—Y-you…” Eddie stammered, his words breaking apart as his brain tried to keep up.

Your only answer was another slow press of your mouth against his cock, your tongue dragging along the fabric now, a wet spot blooming as you licked him through the cotton.

Before he could say anything else, you were already sliding his waistband down, already pressing a kiss to his thigh. His cock sprang free, flushed and leaking, beautiful and so hard it looked like it hurt, you kissed just beside it, inhaling the scent of him. His tip was already glistening with precum, and you made a soft, appreciative sound in your throat, like you’d just been handed dessert.

“You looked like it,” you said, smirking as you leaned in just a little.

Eddie blinked. “L-Like what?” he asked, voice cracking just enough to betray the panic brewing beneath his skin.

“Like you had a huge cock.”

Eddie’s breath hitched, eyes going wide.

“DO NOT COME LOOKING FOR ME—I’M DEAD,” Venom wailed dramatically inside his head. “I HAVE ASCENDED. I AM GONE. BURY ME WHERE I FELL.”

You licked a slow stripe up the side of his cock and his whole body jolted like he’d been electrocuted, you soothed him with a kiss to the head, one hand stroking his shaft while the other pressed gently on his thigh to hold him still.

“SHE HAS NO BUSINESS LOOKING THAT GOOD WITH YOUR DICK IN HER MOUTH!” Venom snarled, somewhere between horrified and deeply impressed.

Eddie clenched his jaw, trying his hardest to drown out Venom’s relentless voice echoing inside his head, all he wanted was to focus on the wonderful, intoxicating feeling of your mouth on him, so warm, wet, and impossibly good.

You moved your tongue with just the lightest pressure, just the tip of it tracing up and down his swollen head. His cock was so sensitive, leaking more precum every second, and every time your tongue swirled over the slit, his whole body shook

“Fuck, you’re good at this,” he mumbled breathlessly.

“I’m just getting started,” you whispered.

“HA. She’s going to kill you. You’re going to die from horny.”

Eddie twitched in the seat, knuckles white as he gripped the edge, eyes barely open and glazed with need.

“You’re so sensitive,” you cooed. “Is this too much?”

He whimpered. “Yes—No—Maybe—don’t stop, please.”

You kissed him again, licked the precum off his slit, and wrapped your hot and wet mouth around him. Eddie’s whole body shuddered, his hand flew to your hair, not to push you down or guide your movements—just to hold on, to anchor himself. His knuckles turned white in your hair, his jaw hung open, he made a sound like he was dying.

“SHE IS GLORIOUS.”

“Ff-fuck—” he whispered.

He was sensitive and desperate, you could tell, every flick of your tongue made his thighs tense, every sound from your mouth made him tremble. You moaned around him like you were the one getting head, and he cursed again, hips jerking like he couldn’t help it.

Venom was purring like a damn engine. “I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’VE DEPRIVED ME FROM THIS FEELING FOR SO LONG. THIS IS BETTER THAN BRAINS. WE ARE NEVER LETTING HER GO.”

“Shut up, just—shut—” Eddie started muttering to Venom under his breath, eyes squeezed shut.

You looked up at him, cock still warm and wet in your mouth, brow furrowed in confusion.

“I-I said—I said it feels so good,” he stammered again, trying to recover, but his voice sounded rough and desperate.

You sucked him in inch by inch, tongue working along the underside, feeling every twitch, every pulse of heat. He was thick, stretching your lips, hitting the back of your throat before you pulled back to swirl your tongue around the tip.

You pulled back just far enough to speak, breath hot on his spit-slick cock. “Good?”

He nodded, frantically, not trusting himself to speak. His whole body was a twitching mess, like he couldn’t stop his body from reacting.

“Marry her. Now. While she’s still gagging on your cock. Best time to ask.” Venom demanded, while Eddie was already dying inside.

His grip tightened, his hips bucked the tiniest bit, chasing the heat of your mouth. You let him, you wanted him wild, you wanted him wrecked. Your mouth was taking him with purpose, pulling off just to spit on the head and swirl your tongue around it, looking up with eyes that borderlined on pornographic.

Your mouth slid down over his balls, licking one and then the other, before sucking them into your mouth one at a time. While your mouth showered one with attention, your hand massaged the other one softly.

"Jesus Christ—That's—"

You moved back to his cock, which was in need for attention. You shoved it deep in your throat until your nose was buried in the hairs that decorated his pelvis. You held yourself there, letting him feel the heath of your throat clenching around him as you bobbed your head in long strokes.

“Shit—I’m gonna—”

“NO. DON’T YOU DARE, EDDIE. BE A MAN AND HOLD IT. I WANT TO KEEP FEELING IT.”

You didn’t stop, didn’t want to, you wanted to swallow every last drop, and so you sucked him deeper, letting spit drip down your chin, your eyes locked on his as you kept taking him to the hilt, hands cupping his slick balls. He cursed so loudly it echoed, and you just stared up at him hungry, needy, desperate, like you were begging him without a single word. Begging him to give it to you, to give you that hot, aching load straight down your throat.

“Don’t blow it, Eddie. Just a little more,” Venom pleaded, his voice thick with urgency and hunger.

"Holy shit—I ca’nt—I’m gonna—fuck, I can’t hold it!"

But Eddie was already too far gone, every nerve screaming, every muscle trembling, completely unable to hold back even if he wanted to. And when he came—hard, shaking, gasping your name—you swallowed his cum down like he was the sweetest thing you’d ever tasted. Hot and thick on your tongue, your mouth full of him, your hands holding his trembling thighs steady while he came undone for you. You didn’t let a drop escape, you kept sucking until he whimpered.

He collapsed back, dazed and ruined like he’d never been before.

“SHE SWALLOWED IT! DID YOU SEE THAT?” Venom roared triumphantly inside Eddie’s head, practically bouncing with excitement. “THAT WAS SO MUCH BETTER THAN YOUR NASTY HAND, EDDIE.”

You kissed your way up his chest and curled beside him on the couch, lips brushing his ear.

“OH HOLY GOD,” Venom howled in his mind. “SHE’S PERFECT. SHE’S A KEEPER. WE ARE CLAIMING HER. CLAIM HER NOW. MATE FOR LIFE—”

You looked at him—lips swollen, eyes dark, smile lazy and warm. “Was that good?”

Eddie stared at you. Still panting, still stunned.

“Y—yeah. Jesus. Yeah.” He blinked at the ceiling. “What year is it.”

You chuckled softly, “I was thinking,” you whispered, “maybe next time… you could return the favor.”

Eddie made a strangled noise. His cock gave a sudden twitch, still half-hard.

Venom roared. “YES. YES. NEXT TIME IS NOW.”

A/N: Sooo, this was my first Eddie fic, hope you enjoyed it! If you did, please consider showing some support🫶🏻🩷

Eddie Brock girlies, get behind me🤺 this one was made especially for you. I’m planning to write more Eddie x Neighbor!Reader one-shots for that 20% who wanted Eddie fics.

Felt like I needed to give @mani-pedro a shoutout for suggesting the idea of Eddie wearing the thong (genius).

tag: @katssecretdiary

dividers by: @/saradika-graphics‬

[sethell]

God, I missed my husband so much!!

Every time he speaks I swear I lose a year off my life and I’m fine with that. Like, take them all, Baldwin. Just keep talking.

Crawling back into Baldwin’s arms for comfort and finally getting him to take off that mask?? I’m not even kidding this is my ultimate comfort fic. I’m fully obsessed. Like, no coming back obsessed.

¤ Sweet, Silver Affliction ¤ (p.11)

▪︎King Baldwin IV x f!Reader arranged marriage work

{Oh, my god his eyessss ♡ you ready for your coronation soon?......and the conflict that follows?}

《 The next morning, after you'd traveled to your bed and continued your rest- you were given a letter written by the king when you awoke. Written in his own hand which made you blush feeling as though these words would be as close and as intimate as your nights spent together. Usually, his messages came through the mouths of others so you felt this to be important….or perhaps, secret.

You heard your handmaidens preparing your bath, opening your curtains and laughing amongst themselves as you sat up in the bed disheveled, hearing Baldwin's own voice as your read the letter silently in a smile,

“Beloved,

I've made my departure early to ensure that I can return punctually. I do hope you can forgive me for being unable to tell you sooner. Though, you must know that I sat with you this morning before you had awoken and gave my thanks in prayers to see you sleeping so peacefully. It will be my greatest honor to wake up beside such a vision from now until my final breath.

Please see the advisors today regarding your wishes on the day of your coronation. They must see that everything put in place is perfect and to your liking.

Sir William will request your audience at midday to begin-”

You smiled wildly, the castle girls taking notice of your swoon which only made you shoo them away in fear they would try and read his tender words- but when your fingers found that there was a second page included in his Majesty's letter, almost as if it was intended to be read as a whisper- an underlying mention only intended to be blunt and brief, you read his one line of scribe with wide eyes,

“When I return- wear nothing.”

Your voice cried out in shrill, breaking shriek to know exactly what he meant and you were then surrounded by their laughter when they saw your joy erupt from the silence you'd been in since awaking. There was no possible way to contain your nerves around the thoughts of becoming a deflowered bride.

The hours of the morning from your bath, to your prayers, to your morning meal- felt like a trance as your eyes stayed low when glazing over from thought. Several times you managed to wake yourself to respond to the servants and your handmaids but quickly they became tuned right back out to the noise of your mind.

Sir William found you, waking you from another conscious dream as you were sitting in the inner ward before the gardens, it was midday already and you hadn't noticed.

The thin, sheer veil hung from your face as you stood to greet him, per your husband's instruction since it wasn't entirely feasible that you could only be alone with women servants as he was gone. He led you along to one of the grand council chambers where you were sat with only Sir William who was tall, raven-headed, and seemed quieter in person than you believed him to be.

“Princess- I plan to know your wishes as to who you'd like to attend your coronation. The king has made his own list quite extensive. Would you like to hear some of his honored guests?”

“Yes-” you answered, eager to know who Baldwin had designated to be present for your crowning.

The King of France, Phillip II.

Frederick I of the Holy Roman Empire.

Tamar The Great of Georgia.

And there were others that Baldwin himself had been procuring. William spoke of Duchesses from Normandy and Belgium- places that a girl born of Hadjari had never known of and frankly, the guest list nearly became a history lesson that you were glad to receive. You thought it only to be fit for a Queen to know her guests accordingly and the land from which they traveled.

“Princess-” William asked after he'd completely the list of who he was certain would be in attendance,

“Is there anyone you'd like to invite personally?”

You nodded, telling him of your father and Nurse mother from Hadjari, maybe their chosen generals if they wished but William then turned to the desk behind him to retrieve a letter. He informed you that they, in fact, had already sent word to your royal father in Tuunda’an.

He turned to present you with said letter that was still sealed in its adorned wax which made you think of sitting in your father's lap as a child while he wrote decrees and petitions. You opened the letter to read his penned words- the first thing he had even told you since the morning of your departure to Jerusalem.

Tensions were high on the eastern front of Persia. Invasions were coming and leaving his armies scarred and barren for provisions that were irreparable without his direct attention. Your eyes then became wet, and you crumbled like a child there in front of Sir William when you discovered the summation of his writing to you.

Your father wasn't coming to your coronation.

You wouldn't see his proud face as you became the Queen of Jerusalem. One of the only rewards you dreamed of before loving Baldwin.

Sir William wanted to reach out and touch you but it was illegal for him to do so. He had to persuade Baldwin profusely for this meeting to even happen since you'd be alone in another man's presence.

“Princess- I most certainly am sorry for your disappointment. But the King and his advisors, including that of myself, shall try to make the ceremony as fulfilling as possible with the absence of your father.”

You sobbed into your hands, making Sir William stand in the thought of retrieving your handmaids so they could console you better than he could himself. After minutes, your tears having wet the lace of your gown; Hanna, Yasmeen and Risha were quick in kneeling to your chair where they began to comfort your cries.

Tenderly, your mouth sputtered in heart broken words from your mother tongue- not having the will to use the king's when your hurt was this great. You wanted to see your Father so deeply and this felt like a wound being opened that perhaps had first cut you in your childhood living without your mother.

A day later, after prayer and reflection guided by the priests under the advice of the King's staff, Baldwin returned much earlier than planned. He wasn't set to arrive in Jerusalem until much later in the night but you heard his carriages break the clamor of the city's passage just after breakfast. Royal harkers cried at his arrival to the citadel's guardsmen who seemed just as surprised by his unexpected return.

It was clear that his journey was halted by word of your sorrow.

You thought of what he wrote in his letter and you winced in hope he would be forgiving of your unfortunate state of distraught. You weren't in his bed but you did stand at his door, trying to keep the facade of being unbothered in the face. But just as your heart felt his presence there you were again melted by sadness that shook your hands as they covered your mouth.

He approached with a swiftness that moved his cloth wimple behind him and you tried to speak as he nearly galloped to bring you closer to him in a pull with arms outstretched.

You tried to speak but he shushed you with hurried words that felt devastated to see you pained in the eyes,

“-Shed not another tear.”

Your head was brought to his collar where you then wept loudly, making Baldwin raise his hands to signal his guards to make their presence scarce while he consoled you. He shushed you with gloved hands petting your head until he brought your chin up with hardened words to assure you that something would be done,

“Look at me- hear me when I tell thee-”

He wiped your eyes with his thumbs, making you swell in love as your glassy eyes found his gaze as it burned down to you.

His touch feathered your lips as they quivered with your tender misery and he said with a quiet vow that lulled you still,

“I won't dare tell you that this world or the next will replace the presence of your father on your special day. I shan't even say that my own eyes seeing you crowned will relieve this hurt. But do not let this despair convince thee that he is not proud. You're his only blood taking the cloth of a holy Queen. If he won't attend, I'll pray that the Almighty take witness in his absence.”

His silver lips pecked against your temple as his touch still strummed your lips lovingly and you held his hands against you in exchange.

You had never felt so calm after so much mental torment that cost you days of what you expected to be peace before your coronation. You cried during your last dress fitting- even the rehearsal of your Holy Vows as you rose the cathedral stairs in hand with the sacred Orb and Scepter.

But you felt serene with your troubled head resting on his chest and he guided you into his chamber where he wanted you to be with him at peace.

When you crossed into his room, he told you to lie on the bed while he sat across in the chair used for his scribing. He listened as you spoke of your troubled woes involving your father, even your finer days of childhood before the fated night you lost your mother to illness. He'd realized how little the both of you had actually known of each other as you spoke the tale of your early life. But with every memory he shared, he became more and more grateful to the heavens that somehow he was intended for you.

Soon, much to your own enjoyment, he too told of his adolescence- the one hidden by scarves and veneers to hide his disease. The many summers in sweltering heat, sweating behind a cape because he'd rather perish at the hand of the sun than embarrassment. He spoke of Sibylla, the sister you had yet to meet until you were crowned- all her beauty and thoughtfulness when tending to his misfortune in youth.

You found his mind to be far less mythic than you had assumed. He wasn't such a delicate puzzle after all. The pieces weren't made of glass as you discovered- but you still had trouble when looking through them.

Through one of his stories, he found you fast asleep in the curve of his arm after he had joined you on the bed. He knew that after a good supper, you were likely to find rest. The servants and advisors informed him of your unwillingness to eat during your day of weeping- which made his stomach sick to know how affected you truly were.

As he watched you, he heard the knock of a guard at his door which he answered with only his head turned to listen when the curtain was drawn to his chamber.

“Sir William requests your brief audience, Your Grace.” Sir Isaac quietly informed, making the King nod and step aside to meet his trusted advisor in the dark corridor lined with the nighttime air of the Citadel.

“Everything is prepared, Your Majesty. I wanted you to rest assured tonight that everything is being made to your vision for the Princess's Coronation.”

“You have my thanks-” Baldwin replied with a nod, brushing his thumb to the half wall illuminated with the low-burning sconces,

“Wake myself before her in the morrow, I want her rested. I know well of her need to be prepared and we will see to a tight schedule that allows her to recover.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” William answered, thinking that in turn they would bid each other goodnight but he saw Baldwin turn his eyes up before speaking again,

“One final task I must burden thee before tomorrow. It must be done tonight…..mine ire shall require such haste.”

William found his own interest piqued and he leaned close to listen to the king's demand before bedding down for the night in the castle, making this task urgent and necessary,

“Send word to the western front where her Father rides in defense for Hadjari. I…wish to speak to him directly. I want those Arabian stallions in Jerusalem ere the summer's end.”

William felt the weight of his asking and he nodded to promise that word would be sent expeditiously to reach the battlefront of Sundaih where your father rode in fight of a seething rebellion. Baldwin's stare followed William as he departed the hall, and he stayed firm in the eyes even as he returned to his chamber where you lied sleeping.

Until there was light in his eyes.

Behind the drawn curtain, saturated in the lines and soft clouds of frankincense, he found candlelight.

Dimly and low, flickering in radiant dances, the candles of his altar, his personal candelabra, and the ones arranged to his bedside table were all ignitied. He furrowed in brow before he was stopped to find what exactly he had returned to.

You were perched on the bed nearly hidden in the sheer drapes of his canopy. Your hair was down and unbraided, unlike the way he left you. Your eyes half lidded in await for him to come closer- where he would find you only covered by his own thin duvet that spoke of no imagination to the curves of your body.

He pulled away the fine, lace curtains of his canopy bed and found you there in wait. Your hand then outstretched, beckoning him closer as more of your delicate skin became revealed and he lost a breath, widening in the eyes to swallow more of the sacred image he'd found. A soft, delicate display of…loving seduction.

It felt tenderly hithering to be drawn closer, taken at the hand by a lover with desire in their eyes and he swallowed heavily to ask you, breaking the silence that could only scream,

“My….my angel..I want you to find rest tonight. I- I know of what I asked those mornings ago. Yet, I..-”

You shook your head, letting your hands graze up his arms when you spoke to sweetly to tell him,

“I don't want my disappointment…to hinder another moment away from us.”

You placed his hands around your waist as you stood on your knees upon the mattress, making you nearly at his eye level now and he watched your every breath as his touch found you,

“I'm to be Queen in merely hours. The night treads fast. I want my first sacred duty to be performed…here. In the sight of my King…as we become one.”

His eyes softened to know that you wanted this…just the same as he and he neared closer, bringing your face to his own where he placed his silvered mask against your head. He thought of being with you, his own needs being sated while trying not to hurt you, but mostly…his image. He thought of your curiosity and how tonight would bring it all to a great summit.

He broke a breath and finally allowed himself to embrace….that someone else besides the Holy Ghost would see him unmasked. 》