#I loathe his hair so v much

[amischiefofmuses]

Why must the best angle of this man be ruined by his fuckass bob.

[icangiveitback]

moon & sun

[coweye]

The Worst Logan

Logan Howlett x Reader!Loganverse| smut | 5.8k words

Summary: You are the deceased-anchor-being-Logan's lover, having found yourself with Laura in the void, you navigate meeting the variant of the love of your life. Sweet dick kicking angst with gratuitous smut, cause we all know Logan eats pussy like a CHAMP. 😤

This is self indulgence at its finest, but it had be to done. 7-years ago, the movie Logan broke something within me that has finally been fixed! 🤠💕

Warning: Explicit - smut. canon death, depression, angst, spoilers for Logan / Wolverine and deadpool, cunnilingus, unprotected p in v, creampie, all the good stuff. 18+

The first time you see him again, the new him, the other him you mean. It’s in the cave accompanied by a man who talks far too much.

You recognise his voice in an instant when the mouth finally allows him to get a word in edgeways. His voice. 

You’ve heard it nearly every night for the past seven years. It's a few octaves deeper than you remember and filled to the brim with vitriol but it's definitely his. The realisation that your memory has been warped by time is a blow to the gut but you continue towards the sound all the same.

When finally you round the corner Logan stands before you in all his glory. For a moment you are rendered utterly unable to form a single sentence as he leans against the wall, a bottle of bourbon in his palm and adorned in yellow and blue.

Your mind can't reconcile this figure as the man you buried. He has the same sneer, the same broad shoulders, he even has the same stance - but Logan, your Logan, would rather die than wear that garish yellow suit and admit to being the hero he always was. 

His nose flares in what you believe to be recognition as he smells your presence, you allow your powers to retreat and reveal yourself. As your invisibility ebbs away Logan snarls in surprise as the talkative man in red gasps theatrically and begins jumping on the spot. 

Your fears are proven well founded when your eyes connect with his across the room, instead of the love and recognition, you find only open hostility and rage.

Your heart had bulldozed all logic, you were in the fucking void, of course it was a variant.

This Logan looks younger; his hair not so grey, his face unscarred and his eyes not so tired. 

This not-quite-Logan stares right back at you seemingly ill at ease with the stranger who is currently taking an inventory of his face. 

“Logan, that's them. It’s X-23 and Y/N, the one’s I told you about.” You graze your palm along your daughter's back in support as you come to stand beside her. 

“Her name is Laura.” It’s a knee jerk reaction; your correction. Your girl wasn’t the sum total of an experiment, she was her own person with her own thoughts and feelings, not a weapon to be utilised. 

The Wolverine’s gaze darts between the two of you, it’d be comical if you didn’t feel like you were about to regurgitate your lunch. They land on Laura, and linger there for a few moments, before they return to you, it's as if he’s trying to find you in her features. 

You barely hear the man you will later come to know fondly as Wade Wilson, question how you all ended up in the void.

“There was a knock at the door TVA sent me here, saying my world was dying … and I never even got the chance to fight for it.” Blade explains remorsefully. 

“They sent us here because they knew we’d put up a fight.” You utter distractedly, finally breaking your staring contest with Logan as he takes a swig from the bottle he’s currently white knuckling. 

“People like us don’t go quietly, TVA knows that so they took us out.” Elektra attests.

“The answer is yes, I’m in.” Wade declares.

“In what?” Blade questions bemused by the man in red. 

“A team up, you me, me you, all of us together, lets get the fuck outta’ here.”

“Don’t listen to him, he’s a fucking liar!” Logan growls, furious at the other man. 

“It was an educated wish!”

“HA!” The loathing behind it makes you pause, he was so angry. 

The heat in his voice, the resentment, it burns you. You supposed even your Logan had his fair share of rage.  

When he arrived at the mansion all those years ago, fresh faced and wild, you had adored him even then, though Logan was far too preoccupied with Jean to notice the torch you carried for him back then.

It was ironic that It had taken the utter annihilation of the X-Men to bring you together. Charles’ accident had left the two of you as sole survivors. Over the years in hiding your ability to mould force fields managed to keep the worst of the effects of Charles’ seizures at bay, but Charles Xavier was one of the most powerful telepaths to grace the earth and your powers had limits. 

Those years were some of the darkest and yet the best of your life, you found yourself growing to love the man the world called The Wolverine.

You realise you’ve entirely tuned out Wade’s rousing speech and have spent the time analysing the man wearing your love’s face currently gargling bourbon though your name pulls you out of your reverie. 

“Laura, Y/N? What’s it gonna’ be girlies?” 

“Lets fucking go.” Laura agrees heartily, you simply nod still dazed. 

“YES! LET’S FUCKING GO!” Wade shouts back fist pumping. 

“You’re all fucking dead.”

Much later in the evening when the sun has finally set you seek him out. When you come across the father and daughter duo before the campfire you hold back, your skin slowly begins reflecting light, fading from vision as you call upon your powers to hide in the treeline. 

They both needed this and it wasn’t something you were about to get in the way of. They talk for a little while, before they part ways, both a little teary. Laura nods your way despite being unable to see you as she heads back to the cave, her nose just as keen as her fathers. 

So it shouldn’t surprise you a few moments later when you hear Logan's voice call across the clearing.

“You gonna’ stand there all night, Bub?” The man sounds utterly exhausted. 

You say nothing in response, only dismissing your powers and revealing yourself as you advance. You take Laura’s seat at the fire, not quite having the courage to look at him just yet. 

“You hear all that? Should mind your own damn business.” You remembered this Logan well, the one aching for a fight, desperate to shed his vulnerability and bloody his fists. 

“I didn’t hear a thing, Logan.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, you haven’t had to gentle parent The Wolverine in a while but it’s like riding a bike. “I wanted to let the two of you talk, she needed it and I think maybe you did too.”

“What do you fuckin’ know.” He growls dismissively, swigging from his bottle of what now appears to be scotch. “You can skip the speech and go back up, I’m not looking for company.” 

“I’m not here to tell you what to do, Logan.” Finally, you look away from the fire and find his eyes fixed on you, you swallow the lump in your throat before you speak. “I just wanted to see you.”

“See me?” He questions incredulously. “Well, keep the change, bub. Good night.”

Despite your smile at his words, you can’t help the tears that begin to cloud your eyes. Your mind and your heart have been locked in a constant battle since setting eyes on him. This man by all rights is Logan. The man you have mourned relentlessly and yet in every way that matters he isn’t.

“It’s like seeing a ghost.” Is the only explanation you can give him, his response is a stoic cheers with his bottle before he takes a deep gulp. 

Finally either his curiosity or the alcohol gets the better of him as he questions. “You her Mother?” 

“Yes and no.” His stare doesn’t leave your face as he waits for you to elaborate. “Her biological mother was a woman from Mexico City that the fuckers in the lab exploited, all we know is that she disappeared after giving birth. After … you … after everything that happened in North Dakota…” You trail off.

Your voice is suddenly thick and your words get stuck in your throat as you try to make them form. It's utterly embarrassing as you feel the traitor tears begin to form. 

A bottle of Johnny Walker enters your field of vision from where you sit staring at your clasped hands in your lap. Startled, you glance up to find the Wolverine standing before you, casting an impossibly large shadow as he holds out the bottle.

You accept the offering from his gloved hand, your fingers grazing his in the transaction as you take a swig or two (or three) before passing it back. He looks thoughtful when he places his lips on the place where your own had just lingered, as he retakes his seat. With amber courage coursing your veins, you continue. 

“She was all I had - if not for her, I-.” You wipe your nose, staring back into the fire. If it was a struggle to meet his eyes before, it was impossible for you now.  “I just couldn’t see the point in being alive anymore if everything just slowly gets stripped away; the X-Men, then Charles and then Lo-” 

You don’t know it, but you’re preaching to the fucking choir with your words. It was rare to find a soul, going through the exact same torture as yourself. Logan found himself softening to you, it was as involuntary as it was unwelcome, but he couldn’t help it as you described a battle so close to the one he fought daily. 

“-she reminded me what I had to live for. Laura she is fierce and so fucking kind; she is everything I loved about him.” You cut your trauma dumping to a swift end as you remember yourself. “So no, to answer your question. I’m not her biological mother, but she’s my daughter in every way that counts.”

Silence reigns for a moment as neither one of you knows what to say to the other. 

“You loved him?” Logan’s voice is deeper than before when he speaks the sentence. You raise your eyes from the fire to find his for the first time since you began monologuing. They’re filled with something you can’t quite name.

“I did.”

Logan seems to contemplate this, mulling it over as he continues drinking. Finally, he seems to reach some sort of conclusion.  “You should get some sleep, big day for you tomorrow.”

“Can I stay here … with you for tonight?” The words slip out before you really even mean them to. Tomorrow you might be going to your death and the ghost of the love of your life is here alive and real, what do you really have to lose?

Logan does a double take, not quite expecting those to be the words that leave your lips. “I’m not him, Darlin’.”

“No, I suppose you’re not.” You sigh, “but could you please just hold me whilst I sleep, James?”

A huge part of you expects him to tell you to fuck off back to the cave and leave him to his booze fueled pity party. However, against all odds, he doesn’t do that. 

Logan simply lifts the half full bottle of scotch to his lips and downs every last drop. He’s a little unsteady on his feet when finally he stands up to his full height and turns towards the blankets he’s laid out on the ground. 

“Fuck it.” He growls and drops himself like a sack of potatoes onto the pile with little regard for his own body. You’ve certainly had nicer invitations into his bed but when he waves you over with a lazy gesture, you can’t help but hurry before he changes his mind. 

Before you know it you’re tucked into Logan’s side. His gloved hand doesn’t quite seem to know where to go, more accustomed to brutality than tenderness these days as it hesitates for a moment suspended in the air. After some careful consideration he delicately places it on the dip in your waist securing you to him. 

Logan’s breath is uneven, though he’s doing his best to seem unaffected by your closeness. It has been years since someone has touched him with such easy affection and the way your body curls around his own as if it was created to do just that is driving him crazy. 

You are completely at ease with him, you trust him so entirely it almost breaks his fucking heart. Logan's stomach is heavy with something he can’t name, you fucking terrify him. Yet, he doesn’t move because you feel so fucking good as he holds you. 

It's scary, you realise, how easy it would be to pretend this was your Logan as you melt into his embrace. He smells exactly the same as you bury your face in his neck, the roughness of his beard feels the same pressed against your forehead. 

This Wolverine’s arms are a little fuller and his chest a little firmer, but he still holds you the same. You make a decision to not focus on such difficult philosophical concepts as variants and the morality of switching out your Wolverine. You decide to live in the moment, to just enjoy the furnace of his body keeping you warm and his arm encircling your waist protecting you from the world, it’s so easy to pretend that this was your Logan, so you do. 

And you fall asleep quicker than you have in years.

It is still night when you awaken, it's not quite dawn but the fire has burned out to a low smoulder. You’re not sure what has awoken you from the best sleep you’ve had in a long while, that is until you feel the arms wrapped around you and the sleeping Wolverine holding you in a death grip against his chest, his half hard appendage digging into your hip. 

Everything is still hazy; you’re floating in that sweet spot between waking and dreaming, you forget about North Dakota and, god forgive me, Laura. 

You’re back in your bed at home and Logan is holding you.

There's no my logan, new logan, old logan. 

He’s just Logan. 

You bury yourself deeper in his neck. 

It’s only for a moment though before it all comes flooding back and the agony overwhelms you like a blade to the gut. 

Instantly tears flood your cheeks as you shake from your silent sobs. 

“...Y/N?” Logan's voice is thick with confusion and sleep, his grip has loosened somewhat to allow you to breathe but he doesn’t release his hold on you. “What’s wrong darlin’?” 

That affectionate name is the last nail in the coffin it fucking ends you. 

All teary, and regrettably maybe a teensy bit snotty, you lean forward and kiss him. Kiss isn’t the right word but it’s your intention. Your lips touch one anothers before he’s pulling away and holding you back. 

“Y/n… Darlin’ you don’t want this… I’m not-”

“But you are Logan. You’re him just as much as he’s you.” Your hands rise to his jaw, running your finger along its familiar sharp edge. “You’re Logan.”

“Y/N… I’d be taking advantage…” His voice is firm yet gruff as he tries to inject reason into the conversation. As usual being the good guy he’s constantly telling everyone he’s not. 

“I am so goddamn sick and tired of being sad, please Logan.” This time when you capture his lips, he doesn’t rear back. You’re not sure what’s going through his mind, but his self control seems to snap within him as he begins returning the kiss in earnest.

Logan’s tongue swipes along your bottom lip begging entry, entry you swiftly allow. You’re breathing heavily through your nose as he plunders the depths of your mouth, exploring your mouth with his quick tongue. 

Deciding to make the next move you push yourself up, throwing a leg over him to straddle his lower stomach. He’s lifted the top half of his body to ensure he doesn’t lose your mouth, your teeth clash slightly with the movement and you can’t help a bubble of nervous laughter.  He pays it little mind though as he swallows the noise, his hands coming to rest on your hips. 

Instantly, you grind your hips downward on the growing bulge that lurks below. Logan lets out a deep groan at the friction and his hands on your hips raise to the bottom of your tee in response, his thick hands tugging at it requesting your permission.

Nodding, you pull back causing him to groan at the loss of your hot mouth on his. Though it's only for a moment as the second the tee is over your head, he’s back on you, only it's your bare neck he’s lashing with affection now.

Logan breathes in deep your scent mixing with the heady aroma of your arousal. He’s nipping and licking along the smooth skin, soothing his bites as quickly he makes them. It's the animal instinct within him, telling him to devour you entirely; make you his. 

“Logan…” You gasp, your eyes are clenched shut in pleasure as he bucks his hips upwards into your jean covered centre.  

Logan pulls back to take you in, writhing above him in the moonlight, you’re fucking beautiful, though the flash of familiar metal between your breasts catches his eye, unable to stop himself, he catches it in his fist. 

Dog tags; his old dog tags.

‘LOGAN’ is etched into the aged metal and they’re warm to the touch from living beneath your shirt over your heart. 

The realisation hits him like a freight train, not only was he loved by you, but for his other self to have given you these, he fucking loved you. 

He’s not sure why it didn’t occur to him before, that the other him was as devoted to you as you were to him. He’s not entirely sure how to feel about it, but he twists his hands, careful not to snap the metal string, but using it to pull you close. 

For the other dead Logan, the hero he’s heard so goddamn much about, he decides he’ll give you the treatment you deserve. 

As if you weigh nothing at all he flips you onto your back, his hands dropping the dog tags and falling to the waistband of your jeans. His dexterous hands undo the button so quickly, that your trousers are peeled from your legs before you know it, leaving you in an unimpressive unmatching set of underwear beneath his roaming eyes. Though Logan couldn’t give a fuck as he groans at the sight of your body exposed to him. 

Logan begins by kissing down your stomach before his hands linger on your black panties, he can't help but grin at the tiny barely there bow in the middle of them; you’re like a gift all wrapped up for him. 

His eyes lift to meet your own as he begins sucking at the fabric that's keeping your pussy from him, it's already damp with your arousal and by the time he finishes, absolutely sodden with his saliva.

“Logan, please…” you whisper desperately as your hands find his ‘tufts’ for a lack of a better word. They were new, but you liked them, plus they now seemed pretty functional. 

He takes only a moment to remove his gloves, before they return eagerly to your body. Those thick hands traverse the planes of your thighs, they’re quick in their passing as they make their way up to the waistband of your panties, he hooks them over his thumb and reveals your soaking core to his hungry eyes and he’s right back to wanting to fucking devour you, and boy, fucking does he. 

Enthusiastic, would be the word, earth-shattering would be another - the word to describe how Logan eats pussy.

Logan without much preamble dives into your centre, his tongue slips into your hot wet heat, lingering for a moment on your clit, circling it reverently before he dips that talented tongue inside of you. His nose knocks against your clit several times, each more delicious than the last as he utterly devours your pussy. He moans, grinding his hips into the dirt and readjusts pulling you closer, his thick muscled arms locking under your thighs as you buck against his mouth. 

You're a complete goner the second he slips a single long thick finger inside of you. 

“Fuck, Lo, I’m gonna-” 

“Come, baby... I got’ya.” He mumbles into your pussy. And fuck me, he does. He carries on lapping at you all the way through your orgasm, drawing it out of you like the pied fucking piper of pussy. It feels like you’ve been falling for hours by the time you finally come down, only Logan doesn’t allow you any reprieve before he’s back to lashing your clit with his quick tongue. Your hands find those faux ear tufts once more and he groans as you pull on them a little more sharply than you intend in your shock, in answer Two fingers bury themselves deep inside of you.

“One more.” He’s negotiating orgasms, but you have no qualms as he rubs his nose side to side with affection against your sensitive bud. His tongue and nose moving in pace with his fingers, currently fucking in and out of you. 

It's when he scissors those thick long fingers inside of you, hitting that spongy spot within you that makes your back arch. 

Your top half has left the ground, he grunts in annoyance, suspending your hips back to his mouth at the angle he likes. Those deep hazel eyes meet yours from between your thighs, crazed and animalistic, driven wild with arousal as he eats your pussy with gusto.

It's that image that thrusts you over the edge once more, your back hitting the ground as your body seizes, thrusting your hips against his mouth. 

Without any preamble a third finger joins stretching you deliciously. The hand not currently fucking you, leaves your hip to caress your stomach stroking the flesh there, not quite able to reach your breast. 

“Lo… fuck… yes… right… right fucking there.” You cry as he draws your second orgasm of the night out, only when you tug at his tuft due to overstimulation does he acquiesce and pull back, only of course, after cleaning up your gaping desperate hole. 

He sucks his fingers clean as he sits back on his knees, his cock thick and tenting against the yellow bottoms of his suit. Your arousal has soaked through his beard making his chin slick, he wipes it with a single swipe with the back of hand though, it does very little for his sodden chin. 

Tired of not touching him, you sit forward grabbing at his belt. It's a difficult contraption that confounds you, though Logan is far too wound up to find any humour from it. 

 He replaces your hands unbuckling the thing before finding the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. 

There, finally in all his glory, he is exposed to you and you’ve never been a religious woman, but Mary mother of fucking christ, he is gorgeous. Logan’s chest is fucking… transcendant to behold, it's like he’s been sculpted by god herself, the light isn’t the best out of here, but you hope to god you don’t die tomorrow simply for wanting to take your time and lick each and every single one of those muscles on his stomach. 

Its your turn to leap forward onto your knees and join his mouth with yours, he tastes distinctly of you and his chin is still sodden, but you couldn’t give less of a fuck, you love the fact your desire is still marking his skin. 

Your hands trace the firm abs at your disposal, before dipping into his now open trousers and underwear to find him rock hard. 

If his physique impressed you, you had a big storm coming, because his cock was a fucking resplendant beauty and it was plain to see from the swelling Logan really liked eating pussy. 

Your fingers barely touched as you pumped him, once twice, spreading the copious amounts of precum along his shaft.

“Fuck.” He grunts into your mouth. You lean down, positioning yourself to take him in your mouth, though he stops you in your tracks grabbing your shoulder. “No sweetheart, I want your pussy.” You clench around nothing at his filthy words, this man will be the fucking death of you. 

You reach behind you and free your tits from their confines, another moan leaves his throat as he pushes you backwards. On his hands and knees he’s deliberate with every move as kicks the bottoms of his suit off as he prowls towards you.

Finally, he’s in between your legs naked as the day he was born. His hands are on your breasts, exploring the new plains exposed to him, playing with your nipples alternating between sucking and twirling them between his fingers. 

So lost in his skilled hands, you barely notice when one disappears to line himself up, it's a shock, the sudden intrusion, but not an unwelcome one as he thrusts himself forward and as deep as he can go. 

You moan his name into his ear, doing your best to keep your volume down.

He has prepared you well, you’re so worked up that he slides home through your tight slit. The sheer size of him means it's a stretch that borders on uncomfortable, but the second his hand finds your clit you’re clenching around him and grinding forward, desperate for more. Unable to control himself, his claws extend, he grunts pulling you close and thrusting them down into the ground. 

“Fuck, you’re tight.” He grunts into your neck, where he's busy lavishing the flesh once again with bites. Your neck is going to be black and blue tomorrow, but you can’t find it in you to give a single fuck.

The two of you are so fucking close his bare skin so deliciously hot against your own, but you want more, you need more.

Logan pulls his hips backwards, pulling out of you until only the tip remains before slamming home and spearing you wide open his cock. Your moans blend together as you lose yourself in each other's bodies.

Logan is worked up from eating your cunt, so it doesn’t take long for the sensation to hit him.

“Fuck, where do you want it?” He grunts into your neck, as his hand descends to rub quick circles on your clit. He pulls your ass up, making sure to hit the spot inside of you that makes your toes curl.

You know he’s teetering on the edge, desperate to make you cum before he does. 

“Inside - come inside me, baby.” You whimper into his neck as he pounds into you reaching your deepest recesses with his thick cock, his hammering, it’s unforgiving with his enhanced strength but it pushes him deeper into spots you couldn’t have imagined. He groans at your words, sounding every bit the wounded animal he is. Your shared groans and the sound of his balls slapping against your ass as he takes you again, and again is all that can be heard in the clearing. 

Finally as he joins your lips in a kiss, you come hard on his cock. Clenching around him as your body writhes uncontrollably. 

Logan adjusts his hold on your thighs, now he uses your body, drawing out your pleasure but ultimately chasing his own. The pace is fast as he grunts and groans erotically into your neck, he fucking growls as his hips stutter against your own, and you know you should be more careful, but the thought of him cumming inside you has you gripping his cock like a vice once more. You give him a tight sheath to come in, and he pumps you fucking full of his cum and its a big fucking load. Logan thrusts a few more times, pushing his seed deep inside of you as he claims your mouth once more.

You run your hands through his hair as he lets his body fall against yours, he’s supporting his own weight, thank god, you don’t think you could handle his muscle, let alone the adamantium skeleton. He’s still sheathed inside you as the two of you revel in the closeness.

The silence stretches on for an amount of time you can’t quite quantify. The two of you take in your surroundings, listening to the quiet of the forest, until your breathing has finally calmed down. 

Logan lifts himself up on one arm, and pushes your hair back from your face. You stare at him in the moonlight for a long moment, unable to help yourself as you trace his familiar features. His strong nose and the curve of his brow, your finger dances along his flesh. 

Logan’s eyes close, so touch starved he basks in your affection. 

“I-” Logan goes to speak, before you drop your finger on his lips.

“It’s okay. Whatever happens tomorrow, happens. I’m okay with it.” You smile at him, there's a chill to the air but you’ve got your Wolverine warming you up. “I just wanted one night to be about something other than death.”

He takes your hand from his lips and kisses along the back of it and up your wrist, though It's a slippery slope as he hardens inside of you again. 

Logan manages to pull two more orgasms out of you before dawn.

When your time has run out, the two of you finally dress, not wanting to be found in a compromising position. Logan curls his body around yours and buries his face in your hair as he spoons you from behind. 

Just when you’re just on the cusp of sleep, he finally speaks into the night. Logan opens up about his world tearfully, instantly you reach your hand down, finding his own thicker one resting on your belly and you intertwine your fingers with his. He tells you of the mutant hunting as you draw comforting circles on the back of his hand, it's not much, but it's more than he’s ever had whilst reliving his worst day. When he has finally bared his soul, the two of you fall back into silence. 

After what has been an emotionally, not to mention physically taxing night the two of you finally fall asleep if only for a few more hours, two incredibly damaged souls offering one another comfort.

It’s later in the morning when you finally awake. The sun has risen that much is clear but you're slow to awaken from your comfortable position in Logan's arms, his warm strong body coiled against your back fighting off the worst of the early morning chill, his face still buried in your hair as he snores peacefully.

There’s a sensation niggling at you, you think it's what woke you up in the first place; you can’t shake the sensation of being watched. 

Lazily you open your eyes, only for your heart to drop to your asshole when you find Wade Wilson about 10-inches from your face lying on his side, his head supported by his hand.

“Mornin’ sleepy head, have a good night?” You can hear the smile in his voice. 

“AGH!”  Unable to stop both your cry of fear and your fight or flight response in progress, you throw yourself backwards, your powers activating of their own accord, and slamming your body into Logan’s chest. He startles awake, with the telltale ‘snikt’ of his claws extending as he orientates himself, his arm coming out to block you from the threat, despite not being able to see you. 

After your brain catches up, you call your power back, but Logan doesn’t do the same, keeping his claws out seemingly ready to slice up his not-so-best friend. 

“Get the fuck outta’ here, Wade.” Logan growls harshly at the other man, his voice is filled to the brim with hatred.

“Hmph - this is what I get for acting altruistically. I thought a good stress relieving bone in the woods with your cherie amour would really sort out that bee in your bonnet, but you sir are just a very unpleasant man and I’m worried that-”

“WADE.” This time Logan’s voice is a threat as he shouts at the man. You place a hand on his muscled arm to steady him. Though he may have stopped your heart with his antics, Wade isn’t doing anything particularly outrageous.  Logan shakes your hand from his arm and allows his claws to retract as he stands. 

“Thanks for jumping to my defence there, Y/N. Great to meetcha bt-dubs, huge fan.” You’re disoriented from the wakeup call but you shake the hand he offers you.  Honestly, you’re still trying to process the head-fuckery of the past day, so you don’t have a quick response for him, though the mouth doesn’t seem to mind as he continues. “That mean lil’ lady is asking for ya’. Thought I’d come and check you and big yellow weren’t still bumpin’ uglies. Didn’t want her to see you and Papa going to town on each other's fun parts.”

“Uh - Thanks… Wade?” 

“That’s me.” He theatrically begins bestowing multiple kisses on the back of your hand he still had in his grasp, which you retract gently. “Oh, and we’re done.”

Pushing yourself up, you go to stand though Logan offers you his newly gloved palm. You lock your fingers around his and the two of you stand together, inches apart and your fingers still intertwined, neither quite sure what to say to the other. Wade’s ‘awh’ over your shoulder shatters the moment and he drops your hand instantaneously. 

After a beat or two Logan leans forward, placing a single solitary kiss on your forehead. “See ya’ around, bub.”

“Where’s my smooch, Logie-bear?”

“Go fuck yourself, Wade.” He calls as he walks around, Logan doesn’t look back as he heads off into the forest. 

You still had faith he’d turn up for the fight, Logan always turned up when it counted and you knew this time would be no different. 

“Hate to see him leave, but love to watch him go.” Wade sighs linking his arm with yours. 

“Mmh, You can say that again.” You agree with the clown watching Logan’s ass as he walks away, you swear you see his step falter thanks to his impeccable hearing, but he doesn’t turn back. 

The two of you turn and you begin walking back to the cave arm in arm with the strange man to prepare for the assault on Cassandra’s lair when Wade finally asks the question you know he’s been dying to ask since meeting you “So, Y/N just between us girls… how big is it?”

LOGAN TENDER HAIR TUCK SUPREMACY RISE. I'll use it in every fic, don't think I won't.

Thanks for reading xxx

Graphics by my pal - @saradika-graphics 💕

[sceletaflores]

where there’s sparks, there’s fire!

pairing: patrick zweig x fem!reader

summary: you can’t tell if patrick hates you as much as you hate him. every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. but he’s only doing all that to piss you off. you think back to tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. you don’t see it. patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special.

—or: patrick zweig is a slut. you can't stand him.

word count: 4.6k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all!), public sex (doing it in a coat closet lmao), more hate sex, swearing, fighting as foreplay, light choking, light hair pulling, degradation, even more hints of mean!reader cause i really do live for that shit, tashi and reader are cute besties always, porn with a little plot, no use of y/n.

author’s note: i originally wanted to post a tashi fic next but i realized i don't have any like actual full on plot filled patrick works lmao i felt bad neglecting him and my patrick girlies so yeah. once again had literally so much fun writing this, like i hardcore love this niche!!! i ride so hard for it!!! the tashi fic i'm working on also falls into this category lols and yes this is fourth of july themed and it's late shut up i cannot write fast for the life of me...anyway! to the anons who requested something like this, hope you love it! okay bye mwah xoxo.

Patrick Zweig is a huge slut.

Everyone knows that. He doesn't even go to Stanford but he's still somehow managed to sleep with a third of the girls on campus, maybe even more than a few guys too if the rumors going around are true.

You hate him. Hate isn't even a strong enough word. You loathe him. You despise him. You detest him. Pick any other fancy synonym, the point still stands. You just really fucking hate him.

It blows your mind that someone as sweet and angelic as Art would be best friends with someone like him. Someone who's so obnoxious, so arrogant, so crass. Art’s the guy that goes out of his way to protect you from the gross frat bros at parties, only to bring his very own as a plus one.

Sigma Nu throws a rager every year on the fourth, extending invites to those who are still in Stanford for the summer. The women’s tennis team is always invited, and Tashi always ends up convincing you to go. Well, she’s less convincing than she is more forcing you, but it’s basically the same thing to her anyway. She did your makeup and wrestled you into a Hollister dress, vowing to get you laid as she straightened your hair.

Tashi’s almost more invested in your sex life than you are, constantly hand-picking guys on campus for your consideration. She actually offered up Patrick once when you told her you wouldn’t fuck any of the guys on campus at all. The two of you were practicing, she suggested it as casual as ever while returning your serve. You were so shocked you stopped in your tracks, letting the ball fly right past you. She assured you she wouldn’t mind if you did, that what the two of them had was quote “Nothing serious, he’s just a really good fuck.” and that you should “Totally do it. He definitely wants to fuck you, I can tell.” 

You just brushed her off, ignored the way she smirked knowingly at you over the net. Your cheeks burned as you served again, you wrote it off as annoyance. As if you would ever let Patrick Zweig fuck you.

You lost Tashi when she took off to the bathroom, texting you that she’d be a while thanks to a long line outside the door. You were leaning against a wall nursing a half-empty cup of jungle juice when he came up to you. You can’t remember his name, you think it starts with a B. Something like Brandon? Or maybe Brian? One or the other.

He’s Sigma Nu’s secretary, you sit three seats down from him in your economics lecture. Tashi says he has a crush on you, and he’s nice for a frat guy but he’s definitely not your type. He’s been droning on about his upcoming trip to his family's summer house in Cabo for almost ten minutes. You try your best to seem interested, humming and nodding every couple seconds. You’re in the middle of tuning him out when a loud, familiar voice calls out your name. 

“There you are!” Patrick Zweig shouts from a few feet away, ugly American flag patterned flip flops smacking against the ground as he makes his way over to you. He’s wearing a bright red button down and white cargo shorts you scrunch your nose up at. He’s tanner than the last time you saw him, legs long and even more toned. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that pretty face.” He coos sweetly, his hand that isn't holding a bottle of Bud Light comes up to pinch your cheek.

You scoff, smacking his hand off your face. “You found me, so you can go bother someone else now,” you say, rubbing your cheek lightly. “Bye.” You press, waving your hand dismissively when he makes no move to walk away.

Patrick grins, unfazed by your reaction, he steps in even closer. “Yeah, I missed you too,” he says breezily, his breath smells like cheap beer and camel blues. He’s just as tall as you remember. He has tacky blue shutter shades resting on the top of his head. His eyes rake over your body shamelessly, lingering on the low dip of your neckline. “Cute dress.” 

You ignore him, rolling your eyes before turning your attention back towards Brandon/Brian. He’s silent now, eyes flicking between you and Patrick skeptically. “Are you like, together, or something?” 

You laugh loudly, quickly shaking your head ‘No’. Patrick beats you to speaking though, “God no, man.” he says through a laugh, dark curls bouncing as he shakes his head. “I came over here to warn you.” He continues, voice and expression going overly serious like he’s not talking out of his ass.

Brandon/Brian’s brows furrow, clearly confused. “Warn me?” he asks, head tilting to the left slightly. His puka shell necklace makes a small clicking sound as he moves. 

Patrick nods his head gravely, clapping his free hand down on Brandon/Brian's shoulder a little too roughly to be considered friendly, shaking him back and forth like a rag doll. “Yeah, best of luck trying to get inside that snatch, man.” he says earnestly, jerking his head in your direction. “Cause’ she’s really fucking picky–”

You whip your head in his direction to cut him off, grimacing in disgust. “You would say snatch, you sick fuck.” you snap, red solo cup crunching quietly in your hand. Patrick just laughs, dropping his hand from Brandon/Brian’s shoulder. Anger stews inside you the longer he looks at you with that stupid shit-eating smirk on his face. 

You can’t tell if Patrick hates you as much as you hate him. Every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. But he’s only doing all that to piss you off. You think back to Tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. You don’t see it.

Patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special. Sure, he may feel the constant need to be a horn-dog when he’s around you. That doesn’t mean anything. Patrick’s just gross, constantly making crude comments or lame innuendos. What Tashi fails to see is him making sex jokes around you is just another way he can piss you off. It’s not an open invitation into those god-awful shorts. 

Patrick takes a small step back, big hands raising in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Put the claws away,” You try to ignore the way him saying your name in that goddamn infuriating condescending tone makes your cheeks start heating up. Patrick leans his shoulder on the wall next to you, looking down at you with a small grin on his face. “I actually wanted to congratulate you on cracking the top twenty.” He takes a long sip of his beer, head lolling to the side lazily as he swallows. “Lucky number 14.”

You’re not too proud to admit that Patrick is kind of hot, especially in this lighting. He’s objectively a hot guy, and he knows it. All tall and firm looking even in his horrendous outfit. But he’s kind of cute too, in an ass-holey way. His hair's a mess of soft-looking black curls and his ears stick out from his head sort of endearingly. He’s close enough that you can see he’s got a little brown in his eyes, and long lashes. There’s a handful of freckles sprinkled over the bridge of his nose. 

His big, strong nose that looks like it could work wonders between your legs. Or at least that’s what you’ve heard from Jen in your chem lab. Maybe this jungle juice is stronger than you thought.

Patrick's smirk widens, wolfish and dirty like he can see what you’re thinking. “That’s pretty impressive.” he continues, his tone a mix of genuine admiration and teasing. "Especially for someone who's always so...busy." He lets the last word hang in the air, a clear innuendo that makes your blood boil all over again.

"Busy training," you snap back, not willing to let him get under your skin any more than he already has. "Some of us have actual work ethic, Patrick. We put in the hours on the court instead of fucking anything that breathes, you know? So we don’t look like idiots that get their ass handed to them on tour by nobody scrubs."

You can feel the heat start to simmer in your stomach, anger and frustration bubbling beneath the surface as Patrick's presence continues to grate on your nerves. The tension between you is thick, amplified by the chaotic energy of the party swirling around you. You see Brandon/Brian take a long, awkward sip of his beer as he steps away, turning on his heel to quickly disappear into the sea of bodies crowding the living room. You roll your eyes internally, pussy.

Patrick grins, not deterred in the slightest. “You’ve been keeping up with my matches?” His voice is low and pleased sounding, shiny green eyes slowly getting swallowed by the black of his pupils. 

You pause, owlishly blinking up at him in silence. You’ve been caught. Shit.

You can feel the immediate warmth of embarrassment burning hot on your cheeks as you cast your gaze to the floor. “Only when I need to cheer myself up, a losing streak that high is actually laughable.” You mutter to the floor, lightly swirling your drink in your cup. 

Patrick laughs loudly, throwing his head back in amusement. “Still thinking about me though.” he says matter-of-factly, a lazy grin taking over his face.

His audacity sends another wave of anger and embarrassment through you, your grip tightens around your cup. "Only because you make such a spectacle of yourself," you retort sharply. "It's hard not to notice when you're crashing and burning so publicly."

Patrick's grin doesn't falter. If anything, it widens. "I'll take what I can get from you," he says, his tone a blend of amusement and something else that you can't place. "But seriously, congratulations. You deserve it."

His unexpected sincerity throws you off, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. It's rare to see Patrick in a light that isn’t coated in sarcasm or sleaze. You catch a glimpse of something genuine in his expression, something that almost resembles respect, and it confuses you.

It confuses you, and it makes something warm start to burn in your stomach. You can’t afford to feel any warm, fuzzy feelings around a guy like Patrick, not if you don’t want to get majorly fucked over the second he gets bored of you. 

You don’t know how to react so you do what makes sense, you lash out.

“God, will you just fuck off and leave me alone Patrick,” you say, tone over-dramatic and long-suffering as you tip your head up to the ceiling in annoyance. “I’m trying to have fun.” A lie. The party kind of sucked compared to last years. You were planning on talking Tashi into leaving when she came back, but he didn’t need to know that.

Patrick’s cool exterior finally cracks, letting out a quiet huff of disbelief as a frown starts tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Jesus Christ, what the hell is your fucking problem? I’m being sincere.” The playful light in his eyes is gone, replaced by something darker.

You let out a loud laugh, shaking your head in amusement. “Maybe I’d believe that if you weren’t such an ass. I know you too well, Patrick.” You say, tone mean and condescending. You know he’s right, on some level, but that doesn’t stop you. 

Patrick is silent for a beat, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that makes you want to start squirming. He lets out a quiet, bitter laugh, bringing his beer up to his lips to take a long sip. You watch the way his throat moves as he swallows, the way his lips look wrapped around the neck of the bottle. You feel a familiar heat start to pool between your legs, thighs clenching involuntarily as your mind envisions something else his slick, pink lips would look good wrapped around. 

He drops the bottle to his side, finally breaking the silence. “You know, now I do believe you.” he says casually, swiping his tongue over his lips lazily. “You must really not be getting any dick acting like this much of an uptight bitch.”

You reel back in shock, his words hitting you like a punch in the gut. The wave of fury that sweeps through you is almost tangible, your vision narrowing to a tunnel that begins and ends with Patrick’s infuriatingly smug face. “What did you just say?” you ask completely taken aback, voice low and rough. Your hand twitches at your side with the need to throw your drink in his face, anger and embarrassment lapping white hot flames in your stomach. 

Patrick just scoffs, heated gaze not breaking from your own. “You heard me.” He says, jaw set stubbornly. “You need like, emergency dick, or something to chill the fuck out for once.” 

You feel your heart rate spike, your free hand clenching into a tight wrist by your side. “You’re a fucking pig.” your voice shakes with anger, you feel sweaty and hot all over. The heat swirling between your legs is persistent.

Patrick laughs, a loud and infuriating sound. “Come on, we both know you’re fucking begging for someone to give you what you need.” He says like it’s obvious, you clench your fist a little tighter. He takes a step closer, voice dropping down to a whisper meant just for you. “I can help you with that. I can fuck all that bratty shit right out of yo–”

You’re reacting before you can stop yourself, hand flying up to slap him hard across the face. The loud crack pierces through the room, loud enough that a few eyes turn in your direction. Patrick's head snaps to the side, the shades resting on the top of his head fly off. 

Your heart stops, hands shaking with the realization of what you just did. You expect Patrick to flip out, start shouting and threatening to sue you or whatever else it is that rich people do. Time seems to slow down as he turns his head, and when he looks back at you, there's no trace of anger in his eyes. Instead, they're dark with something else entirely— something that makes your stomach flip.

He licks his lips, a slow, deliberate motion, and then he laughs, a low, throaty sound that sends shivers down your spine. A clear hand print grows steadily, red and angry on his cheek. "Fuck." he breathes, his hazy eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. 

You’re stuck staring at each other for what feels like hours, the music and chatter from the party reduced down to a low hum as you’re caught under Patrick’s heavy gaze.

He drops his beer bottle on the floor carelessly, hand shooting out to grab your wrist tightly and drag you away from the living room. Your cup falls from your grip, splashing down onto the hardwood in a red sticky mess. You fall into step behind him, letting him guide you into the hallway outside the living room before he lurches to a stop in front of a closed door, ripping it open and shoving you inside. Patrick follows quickly, closing the door behind him and bathing the coat closet in darkness. 

It’s a tiny closet, you’re pressed up against too many coats fighting for space on the tiny rack, kicking loose shoes around as you try to find your footing. “Patrick, I–” You start, but you're cut off by a strong hand gripping your forearm and whipping you around. Your back hits the door with a dull thud, you don’t have any time to react before his lips are on yours.

The kiss is the opposite of gentle, Patrick’s lips are almost violent as they move with yours. Your hands tangle in his soft hair, kissing back just as roughly. He hisses into your mouth as you twist the strands in your grip meanly, pressing you into the door harder. His tongue forces its way past your parted lips, claiming your mouth fiercely. He tastes like beer, his fingertips are rough and calloused on your skin, pulling you closer as if he wants to meld into you.

“If you don’t want this, say the word and I’ll stop right now.” He says against your lips, breathless and rumbly. His hands squeeze your hips reassuringly, his own version of sincerity softening the moment.

Yeah fucking right.

“Zweig,” you say slowly, yanking his hair roughly. “If you don’t shut up and fuck me in the next ten seconds, I’ll kill you.”

Patrick grins wildly, surging forward to connect your lips again. Your hands find the buttons of his shirt as the two of you kiss, working them open one by one until you get too frustrated and rip the two half-open sides apart. Buttons clatter onto the floor of the closet, Patrick groans into your mouth, breaking the kiss with a huff. “I liked that shirt, dick. You owe me twenty bucks.”

You’re not listening, eyes trained on the bare skin of his chest as everything seems to slow down for a second. Of course, you’ve seen Patrick shirtless before, when he’s on the court and it’s above ninety or when he’s taking up space in Art’s dorm. This feels different, a completely new situation where it’s actually okay for you to stare at the expanse of his torso. 

You can’t help reaching out to touch him again— running your greedy hands down his chest, his abs, the sharp ‘v’ cut of his hips that makes its way into the waistband of his shorts. Your manicured nails scratch through the dark hair of his happy trail, you can see the muscles in his stomach jump.

“Fuck,” you whisper breathlessly and immediately regret it. He was already insufferable— all you fucking needed was for him to know how you felt right now. How the sight of his barely undressed body is making your pussy soak through your panties.

Patrick doesn’t even gloat, just uses his tight grip on your hips to flip you so you’re pressing onto the door harshly. He impatiently yanks the skirt of your dress up, wasting no time in hooking a finger on the lace of your panties and moving the fabric to the side for easier access.

You hear him pop the button of his shorts open, his zipper following close behind. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” He says, sliding the thick tip of his cock through your slick lips, brushing himself against your entrance teasingly. “I’m gonna make you think twice about bitching me out ever again.” He seals his promise by grabbing your hair and yanking, causing a surprised whine to fall from your lips. His voice is so patronizing, but you aren’t getting mad like you should be. You’re just getting wetter, getting desperate with the need for him to get inside you right fucking now.

You grit your teeth in frustration, exhaling sharply through your nose. “I hate you.” You hiss, grinding back against his hard cock. You gasp raggedly as he starts to sink himself inside you, not stopping until his hips are flush against your ass. “Shit!” Your hands grip the door so hard you’re scared one of your nails will break. The stretch of him burns in the best way possible. You’d never say it out loud, not wanting to inflate his ego anymore than you probably already have, but he’s definitely the biggest cock you’ve taken. Almost porn-star big.

“I know.” He replies easily, hiking your thigh up with his hand as his hips start to pound mercilessly into the meat of your ass, not even giving you time to get used to the thick stretch of him. The loud smack of skin on skin fills the tiny closet easily, you hope to God the amount of clothes shoved in here somehow muffles the sound. The rough denim of his shorts scratches against your raw skin, adding to the sting of his hips.

Patrick was pounding into you in a way that makes you feel every inch of him. His cock felt impossibly big, filling you up like he was carving a place for himself inside of you. The sting in your pussy at the stretch of him is mind-numbing, you think you’d collapse from how hard your thighs were shaking if he wasn’t practically holding you up.

His big hand grips the sensitive skin of your inner thigh hard enough that it’ll probably be bruised by tomorrow. You distantly hope he’s high up enough that your tennis skirt will cover it, because if not it’ll be a hard thing to talk your way out of.

You throw your head back, a strained moan erupting from your lips. Your nails scratch at the paint on the door's edges, raking small lines down the wall. The loud squelch of your pussy’s overflowing wetness every time he sinks back inside you would be embarrassing if you had the mental capacity to care.

“Fuck yeah, keep making those slutty sounds, baby. Want the whole fucking party to hear how good I’m making you feel on this cock,” he mutters, hiking your leg up higher so he can pound into you deeper.

He drops your thigh, sliding his hand up your body and around your throat. You whine loudly, pushing back into his thrusts harder. Guys have tried the choking thing in the past, but Patrick’s hand is the only one that’s felt right. His long fingers curling around your throat like they belong there.

“Shit, fuck- don’t stop.” you mewl, lips parted in ecstasy. His hand squeezes a little tighter, not enough to cut off your breathing, just enough to get your eyes rolling back into your head as your pussy weeps around the thick length of his cock.

“That’s it, taking my fucking cock like you were made for it,” Patrick grates through a groan, gripping your hips and pulling out from your tight hole to spit on where his cock bumps up against your entrance before plunging back in.  You jolt at the extra wetness, whining at how dirty it is. “So fucking tight— does it hurt, baby?” he asks in a barely breathless voice, laughter edging his tone. “Is my fat cock hurting your tight little pussy?”

“God– shit, yes!” you sob loudly, cheek rubbing against the wood of the door as you nod your head frantically. “Hurts so fucking good.” You stop caring about inflating his ego, letting moans fall freely from your lips as you get closer to the edge.

“Fuck yeah, I’m gonna come,” he grunts, his rhythm growing sloppy and erratic as his muscles tense. He wraps your hair in his other hand, pulling hard enough to make your neck crane back awkwardly. He leans forward, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I can feel you, fucking clenching up on me so tight,” he whispers, still pounding into you roughly. “I know you’re close. Do it. Come all over my cock like a slut.”

Patrick's hand tightens around your throat as he talks, cutting off your air for just a second. “Patrick!” Your voice sounds weak and strained, your hand coming up to wrap around his wrist desperately.

He pulls out abruptly, dropping your hair from his fist to frantically jerk his cock, burying his face in your neck. You can hear the lewd shlick shlick shlick of your wetness help his hand glide over the skin of his cock quickly. Patrick lets out a loud growl before you feel the sharp bite of his teeth sinking in where your shoulder meets your neck, muffling a loud groan of your name as he sprays hot come over the skin of your lower back and the swell of your ass. 

The feeling of Patrick’s hand wrapped around your throat as his come paints your skin has you catapulting over the edge. Eyes rolling back in your head as your convulsing pussy gushes wet over his spent cock. 

You drag in greedy lungfuls of air, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. “You came first.” You say breathlessly, voice scratchy and hushed. Patrick chuckles against your skin, swatting the tender flesh of your ass lightly. 

“Shut the fuck up.” He mutters half-heartedly, nuzzling his nose in your neck in a way that seems far too intimate for what the two of you just did. You don’t say anything.

Patrick eventually peels himself off your back, but the warmth of his body stays wrapped around you as he starts to gently wipe your skin clean. You’re ready to scold him for using some poor guy's coat as a come-rag, but when you turn your head to glare at him he’s using the inside of his own shirt. You wrinkle your nose, but a tiny smile fights its way onto your lips. So gross, you think with a sort of reluctant fondness.

He leans over to fix your panties back over your puffy, abused pussy. Your thighs continue to shake weakly as you try to stand on your own, still unsteady without Patrick holding you up. He gives you a sweet kiss on the back of your shoulder, smacking his lips loudly. You huff out a tiny laugh, pushing away from the door to face him.

You watch him as he languidly gets re-dressed. He looks well-fucked, his hair and clothes are mess, his face is flushed and sweaty. Your eyes trail down to where he’s buttoning up his atrocious shorts. 

The fabric around the crotch is darkened with your release, wetness soaking the denim around the zipper and front pockets. You gawk at it, a mix of terror and excitement swirling through your stomach. “You can’t go back out like that.” you say to his shorts, shame burning your cheeks. 

Patrick follows your gaze down to his crotch. A pleased smirk plays on his lips when he looks back at you. “I’ll text you later.” Is all he says, zipping his fly and turning towards the door. 

“You don’t have my number.” You say, tugging the skirt of your dress down over your hips. You can slowly feel the horny fog leave your brain, leaving you clear-minded and a little panicked.

He cracks the door open, but before walking out of the closet he looks back at you over his shoulder. “Art’ll give me your number. “ He says casually with a small shrug of his shoulder. You suddenly feel sick, wondering how many other people have heard that line before getting completely ghosted. 

Patrick must see the negative thoughts running through your mind play out on your face. He gives you an actual smile, one that has his eyes crinkling up the tiniest bit at the corners. “Promise.” He says with a reassuring nod, it’s the most sincere you’ve ever seen him. You bite your lip to stop from smiling at the hope blooming in your stomach, nodding back at him slowly. He throws you one last toothy grin before he’s walking out and closing the door behind him.

You sigh contently, staring at the closed door for a few beats before your phone buzzes to life from where it's laying on the floor. You bend over to search for it, blindly rooting around until you see the tiny display light. The ringing stops before you can answer, when you flip the screen up to check your inbox you have seven missed texts and two missed calls.

Four texts and two calls from Art, and just three texts from Tashi.

arty where are you? i’ve been looking for you are you okay? hello???

tash you know you're not invisible right? everyone saw your little show have fun <3

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

mini a/n: yes i did change the title leave me lmao love you!

[sugoroo]

TRADING CARDS!

summary: in which toji’s in need of some cash, and you’re in need of having your cherry popped! he’ll take your v card if you lend him your credit card. simple, right?

warnings: fem!reader, penetration (p in v), breast play, tummy bulge, squirting, loss of virginity (reader), fingering, oral (f receiving), age gap (reader just finished college), tojis a bit of a perv, 18+ minors dni.

wc: 7.2k

"hey, doll?" toji grunts as he pokes his head into your room, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he shoots you a slightly apologetic grin. "i'm gonna need ya to cover my half of the rent again this month."

you look up from your phone, your lips pulling down into a small frown at his words. this isn't the first time this has happened, and it certainly won't be the last, either. "seriously, toji?"

toji simply gives you a noncommittal shrug in response, turning the pockets of his sweatpants inside out as if to further prove his point — there wasn't a single cent in sight. "i ain't got nothin', sweets. hardly been able to buy food these last few days."

you roll your eyes, letting out a soft huff at his not-so-subtle attempt to make you feel bad for him (which almost always worked, and he knew it.) "fine. but you better come through next month. i can't keep covering you."

he lets out a sigh of relief, reaching out to ruffle your hair with one his large hands. "yeah yeah, i'll pay up next time. promise." he was lying through his teeth, and you both knew it. but you chose not to comment on it — maybe a small part of you wanted to keep toji as your roommate, even if you had to pay his rent half the time.

toji heads back out into the living room to lazily slump across the couch, leaving you to your own thoughts.

it was really starting to grate on your nerves how much you had to support him. he's a fully grown man, and you're a young girl fresh out of college. and yet, somehow, you ended up being the one paying his bills with the leftover money from your summer job.

and maybe it wouldn't bother you so much, if you weren't so constantly pent up.

college was supposed to be your time to shine, where you'd attend countless parties and have meaningless hookups with guys in bathrooms, just like all the movies you watched when you were younger.

but it wasn't really like that. and as much as you loathe to admit it, you're still a virgin. with only your own feeble fingers to keep you company, you can probably count on one hand the amount of orgasms you've had in your life.

and that's when you have an idea.

it's just like trading cards — toji takes your v card, and in return, you lend him your credit card.

it's shameless, and you might've felt embarrassed with yourself for even coming up with it if you weren't in dire need of releasing some tension.

and if toji's as desperate for money as he makes out like he is, maybe he wouldn't mind agreeing to your little proposition.

the only catch in your genius idea is that you actually have to ask toji about it.

you've been lingering outside his bedroom door for what feels like hours, trying to figure out how to actually phrase your proposal without making a complete fool of yourself.

but just as you timidly raise a fist to knock, the door swings open, and toji walks right into you, causing you to collide face first with his toned chest. you barely register the two strong hands that rest over your shoulders to steady you, your mind suddenly laser focused on the way your cheek is squished between his pecs.

"oops. sorry, doll," toji chuckles heartily, moving one of his hands from your shoulder to gently grasp your hair and pull your now noticeably flushed face away from his chest. "didn't see ya there."

"n-no, it's my fault." you manage to stammer out, taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to regain your composure. shit, you hadn't even asked him yet, and you were already a mess.

he raises a thick eyebrow at your skittish demeanour, his hand leaving your hair to teasingly poke at one of your adorably pink cheeks. "aww, what's this? you blushin'?"

you try and shoot him a glare, but it looks more like a pout than anything else as you meekly swat his hand away from your face. "shut up, toji. you're the one who walked right into me."

he lets out a deep, amused chortle at this, crossing his arms over his chest and staring down at you with a lazy smirk. "right. and you're the one who was lingering outside my door like a creeper."

you let out an embarrassed huff at his rebuttal, knowing there's no way to deny it now. you take another deep breath, idly wringing your hands as you crane your neck to look up at him. "yeah. about that. i, um, i wanted to ask you something."

toji cocks his head to the side, his expression turning mildly curious. "oh? what could you possibly want to ask this old man, hm?" he grunts, your little nervous fidgets not going unnoticed by him.

"w-well, i, um..." you begin, your features twisting up into a grimace as you struggle to get the words out. damn it, you were already cursing your past self for thinking this was a good idea. "i have a proposition for you."

this seems to pique the dark-haired man's interest, and he straightens his back slightly, reaching up with a large hand to scratch his chin. "what kind of proposition are we talkin', sweets?"

you swallow thickly at the way he puts such emphasis on the word proposition, as if he already knows exactly what you're thinking. but of course he doesn't — how could he?

"the kind of proposition where i lend you my credit card to help with your little... money problem," you begin, fighting to keep your voice as steady as possible. "and in return, you..."

toji's eyebrows raise even higher at your words, and he lets out a grunt of irritation when you trail off at the end of your sentence. "in return i what? use your words, doll."

"and in return, you..." you repeat quietly, your voice becoming consistently quieter until the last few words come out as a mere whisper. "help me lose my virginity."

the silence that follows your words is absolutely deafening, the only noise being the faint sounds of cars passing by the road outside the apartment.

you immediately start thinking of ways to salvage the situation, maybe just laugh it off and say it was a prank or something. it's a flimsy excuse, but it's better than this painful silence.

just as you open your mouth in an attempt to backtrack, toji grasps your chin in one large hand, effectively shutting you up with the movement. "you're a damn virgin?" he rasps out, turning your flushed face from side to side as if examining it would help him find the answer.

"u-uh, yeah," you mutter sheepishly, shrinking in on yourself slightly under the sudden intensity of his gaze. "why do you sound so surprised?"

toji barks out an almost incredulous laugh, as if you were utterly ridiculous for even asking such a thing. "seriously?" he huffs, shaking his head. "you're a fine little thing. figured ya would've had guys linin' up around the block for ya at college."

your eyes widen almost comically at his words, your mouth opening and closing a few times as you try to form a coherent response. you never expected your considerably older, rough around the edges roommate to actually find you attractive. "i-is that a yes, then?"

he scoffs loudly at this, repeating your words back to you in a mocking tone. "how the hell do ya expect me to say no to that?" he mutters, the pad of his thumb skimming across your jaw. "i've done worse deals for a whole lot less."

you let out a long sigh of relief, some of the tension leaving your shoulders at his agreement. the hardest part was out the way — you'd managed to get him on board.

"hey." toji grunts, his hand on your chin squeezing hard enough to get your attention as he angles it higher, tearing you from your thoughts. "look at me when we're talkin', girl."

your eyes widen even further at his sudden commanding tone, your thighs instinctively pressing together slightly beneath your skirt. the reaction doesn't go unnoticed by toji, but he doesn't comment on it, simply filing the information away for later.

"ya sure this is what y'want, sweets?" toji asks, his voice barely above a low mutter as he leans his head down closer to your level, his hot breaths just barely puffing across your face as he seemingly searches for any signs of hesitance. "once it's done there ain't no goin' back."

"i... i know." you gulp, vaguely aware of the way his dark eyes follow the gentle bobbing of your throat. "i wouldn't have asked if i didn't want this."

he hums, appearing satisfied with your answer. his thumb moves from your jaw to the plump skin of your lower lip, pulling it down slightly before letting it snap back into place. "how long do i get ya credit card for?"

"how long?" you repeat, blinking a few times. you hadn't even thought about that. and it was becoming quite hard to focus with the way he was toying with your lip. "um... twenty four hours."

toji grunts in acknowledgement, but his lips start to spread into a mischievous grin, and you can tell he's not going to make this easy for you. "nah. forty eight."

you let out an indignant huff, your eyes narrowing at the audacity of this man. two whole days? he was probably planning on bankrupting you at this rate. "thirty six." you counter.

he lets out a hearty laugh, his chest visibly rumbling with amusement at your haggling. his thumb traces over your lip again, causing you to let out a shuddering breath. "mm. ya got y'erself a deal there, dollface."

"good." you mutter, reaching out a hand towards him in a gesture of sealing the deal. toji takes it, his large hand entirely enveloping yours as he gives it a brisk shake.

before you can even think of saying anything else, toji uses his grip on your hand to tug you closer to his chest, your face almost colliding with his torso again.

"i'm assumin' you've atleast kissed before?" toji muses, this thumb still tracing the contour of your lips as if that would answer his question.

you let out a small, embarrassed laugh, rubbing the back of your neck as you find yourself avoiding his gaze again. "yeah, i have."

toji tuts, yanking your chin back up again, more forcibly this time. "jesus, girl. what did i say about keeping your eyes on me?" he grumbles. "and whatcha laughin' for? i say somethin' funny?"

"sorry." you huff, your lips pushing out into an involuntary pout. "i'm not laughing because of you. it was just a really... bad kiss."

he hums in response, tilting his head to the side as his grin morphs into a small smirk. "damn. a virgin and you've never even had a good kiss. i got my work cut out for me here."

you try and shoot him another glare, a huff of exasperation leaving your lips. "no need to rub it in, toji. i'm paying you for this, remember?"

toji barks out an amused chuckle, shaking his head at your little attempts to try and look stern. cute. "yeah yeah, i know ya are. and don't worry, ya won't regret it."

you're about to open your mouth to retort, but before a single syllable can leave your mouth, toji's lips are on yours. they're rough and slightly chapped as they brush over your own, just the texture you would've expected them to be if you had to guess.

it's not a rough kiss, but it's not exactly gentle either. it's somewhere in the middle, somewhere that makes you think even the way toji kisses is just so... toji.

he pulls away after a few moments, letting out a soft huff of laughter at your dazed expression. "you still in there, sweets?" he hums, flicking his thumb against your forehead.

you can feel the way your cheeks flush darker at his taunting words, silently cursing yourself for getting so worked up over a simple kiss. damn it, it was so obvious just how touch starved you were. how were you going to make it through this?

"i'm still here." you grumble under your breath, causing toji to chuckle even harder. "and if you're just gonna keep laughing at me, maybe i'll go ask someone else to help me."

toji's chuckle turns into a bark of laughter, and his lips curve up into a smug grin as he flicks your forehead again. "no can do. we already shook on it. handshake's sacred, dollface. dontcha know?"

"ugh. you just made that—" you attempt to argue, but he shuts you up by pressing his lips back onto yours again, slightly rougher this time. you let out a sound of surprise against his mouth when his scar brushes against your skin, but slowly, you start to reciprocate the gesture.

he lets out a satisfied hum, starting to take a few steps backwards through the doorway of his room, his lips still moving against yours all the way.

you angle your face up to unknowingly chase after his lips when he pulls away, and you have to swallow down the embarrassing sound that threatens to escape you when you realize what you're doing.

toji snorts, shutting the door behind the two of you with a stupidly self-satisfied smirk stretching across his lips. "that attached to me already, huh? we only just started."

"i'm not attached." you scoff meekly, though your actions severely contradict your words as you lean up on your tiptoes in the search of another kiss.

"mhm. whatever y'say, girl." he mutters amusedly, his hand snaking under your chin again to help you reach his mouth. he meets you halfway, his kisses growing slowly more insistent as his tongue flickers out to swipe over your lower lip.

a soft gasp escapes your lips at the feeling of the warm, wet muscle asking for entrance into your mouth, but you comply, parting your lips to allow the intrusion.

he lets out a satisfied grunt, his tongue darting every which way as it expertly explores the warm cavern of your mouth. you just stand there, completely stock still, for a long few seconds before your own tongue starts to meekly lick against his.

"yeah, there we go," toji mutters into your mouth, his thick tongue easily enveloping yours as he rolls them together. he's so effortless with it, like this is second nature for him — you suppose it probably is. you're not oblivious to the amount of hookups he brings back to the apartment when he thinks you're asleep.

toji pulls back from your mouth with a lewd pop! once he registers that you need some air, observing the way your chest rapidly rises and falls like you can't get enough oxygen with silent amusement.

he's going to have such fun pulling more of these pretty reactions from you.

while you're still desperately trying to catch your breath, he slides both of his rough, calloused palms under the fabric of your shirt, his hands leaving a tingling trail of heat across your skin.

"wait—" you begin to protest, but whatever you were going to say trails off once you feel his fingers brush against the underside of your breasts.

he lets out a grunt of surprise, raising his bushy eyebrows. "no bra, doll?" toji scoffs, shaking his head. "you were ready for this, weren't ya?

your cheeks flood with embarrassment for the nth time this evening, and you feel the sudden urge to just shove his hands away and go back to your room to get yourself off with your feeble fingers. but you don't.

toji lets out yet another snort of laughter at your reaction, rolling his eyes. "i ain't sayin' it's a bad thing, girl," he mumbles, moving his hands to cup each of your breasts in his wide palms. "makes things easier for me. i like it."

you let out a small huff of relief at his sort-of-creepy reassurance, unable to fight the way your body instinctively leans into his touch, pressing your chest into his hands slightly.

he hums, removing his hands only to push your shirt up to get a look at your bare breasts, the fabric bunching up around your collarbone as he leans in closer to inspect your assets.

"toji!" you gasp in complaint, trying to push down the instinct to cover yourself up from your roommate's intense gaze. but when your hands fly up to guard your chest, he instantly grabs your wrists, making you freeze.

"ah ah," he chides with a smug smirk, easily moving both of your wrists into one hand while the other reaches out to fondle your breasts. "no need to be shy. ya got a nice pair of juicy tits right here."

his compliment is so lewd, and even with the way you attempt to wriggle your wrists free from his grip, he effortlessly keeps them trapped with one strong hand.

toji squeezes and kneads the supple flesh of your breasts, laving both with equal attention as he feels up every inch of skin available to him. he can't believe his little roommate has been hiding these pretty tits from him all this time.

when he leans down to pop one into his mouth, you let out a strangled gasp which quickly morphs into an almost pornographic moan when he starts to gently suckle at your highly sensitive nipple.

"shit." you manage to push out, your breaths becoming increasingly more erratic as he starts to flick his rough tongue over your perked bud. you can feel rather than hear the raspy chuckle he lets out at your reaction.

"so damn sensitive," toji rumbles as he pulls back from your breast, which is now shiny and slick with his salvia, before moving to the other. "y'like that, huh?"

it takes you a few moments to form a coherent response, your mind suddenly feeling unable to focus on anything other than the way he's practically making out with your chest. "y-yeah."

toji's smirk widens in a grin at your stammered words, clearly finding enjoyment in the way your body is reacting to his every touch. "bet ya do. poor thing, graduated college and still never been properly touched."

you let out an indignant huff, annoyance momentarily taking over your pleasure. damn it, why did he always have to mock you at any given opportunity? you're starting to wish you never told him about your virginity.

he snorts again at your huff, removing his mouth from your breast with a long, stringy trail of salvia connecting his lips to your chest. "whatcha huffin' for, girl? thought ya wanted this."

you shoot him another one of your trying-to-be-stern-but-really-just-pouting glares. "i do want this. but i also want you to stop laughing at me the entire time."

he rolls his eyes dramatically, acting as if not laughing at your expense was the most difficult thing he'd been asked to do today. "i'm not laughin' at you, dollface. i'm laughin' at those stupid ass college boys who missed out on having you like this."

before you can even begin to process his words, toji crowds you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the edge of his bed, and you instinctively plop down onto the mattress, looking up at him with wide eyes.

he snickers at your shocked expression, moving forward to stand between your legs. from this position, he towers over you even more than usual, and you have to crane your neck practically all the way back to meet his eyes.

"why so surprised, hmm?" toji drawls, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear in an uncharacteristically gentle touch. "y'think i didn't notice how pretty ya were the first damn day ya moved in?"

you open and close your mouth a few times before managing to pull yourself together enough to speak. "honestly? i kinda figured you didn't pay me much attention — considering how many hookups you bring around here."

he hums in response, moving his hand to grasp your chin and force you to maintain eye contact with him. "so you noticed that, huh?" he grunts, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "they're just distractions, really. i've wanted you for a while, but i assumed ya wouldn't be interested in and old man like me."

you can only raise an eyebrow incredulously at his words, as if he'd just said something ridiculous. "toji, you're so dramatic. you're not that old."

he barks out a loud laugh at this, slowly lowering himself to his knees between your legs. the audible sound of his muscles protesting the movement seems to disprove your words, making you wince. "no need to flatter me, sweets. i know 'm old." he mutters, his smirk still firmly in place.

you open your mouth to argue, but quickly forget whatever you were about to say when toji's large palms start to trail up your thighs, stopping just below the edge of your skirt.

"ya got no panties on too?" he asks teasingly, although you can hear the faint sense of actual curiosity in his tone. however, when his fingers graze against the edge of your lace panties, he huffs. "hmph. you disappoint me."

you roll your eyes at his words. you would've gone pantyless too, but unfortunately the prospect of finally losing your virginity made you so wet that you had to wear them to prevent yourself from dripping on the floor of the apartment.

"you've touched yourself before, i take it?" toji grunts as his hand moves to easily cup your clothed pussy in his palm, his smirk becoming a grin again when he feels how damp the material is.

you suck in a sharp breath, your eyes fluttering in pleasure at the feel of someone else's hand except your own touching your most sensitive area. "y-yeah, i have. but it's..."

toji seems to understand why you trailed off, letting out a hum of acknowledgement as his fingers start to rub little circles against your panties. "but your little fingers can't make you cum right, yeah?"

you can only manage a feeble nod, fighting the urge to start grinding yourself into his hand. he chuckles amusedly at your reaction, his fingers just dipping under the edge of your panties but not quite.

if you were one of his usual hookups, he'd probably be balls deep inside you by now. but you're not — you're his pretty little roommate he's had his eye on for a while, and on top of that, you're a virgin.

he's going to take his sweet time with you.

toji spends what feels like an eternity teasing you through your underwear until you're squirming restless on the edge of his bed before he finally, finally makes direct contact with your pussy.

"shit," he grunts as he swipes his finger through your sopping folds, the digit practically slipping across your slick skin. "you're so damn wet, baby. i've hardly even touched you yet."

you can't stop the pathetic whine that escapes your throat, your cheeks flushed a delightful shade of pink and your eyes half-lidded with need as you look down at him. "please, toji."

fucking hell. he actually has to restrain himself from just pouncing on you right there and then when you beg him so sweetly. instead, he lets out a raspy chuckle, his finger moving down to lazily circle your dripping entrance. "please what, girl? use your words."

"please..." you say again, your voice breathless as you wriggle your hips slightly underneath his hand. "touch me properly."

toji snorts at your phrasing, shaking his head. but before another retort can leave his lips, he's rendered speechless for a moment when he slides a finger into your entrance, your gummy walls instantly sucking him in.

"jesus," he mutters hoarsely, yanking your panties to the side with his other hand to get an unobstructed view of the way your little pussy flutters around his finger. "what a pretty fuckin' cunt."

you let out what can only be described as a mewl at his words, and the noise sounds foreign to your own ears. god, what is he doing to you?

he groans low in his throat at the sound you make, moving his finger around inside of you as gently as he can and brushing the thick digit against your spongy walls.

it should be illegal, really, how quickly toji manages to find your sweet spot. he's had a single finger inside your pussy for just under a minute, and the calloused pad of his digit is already grazing your sensitive g spot.

"ah!" you practically sob, your thighs instinctively clenching around his beefy arm. you've never felt such an intense spark of pleasure before — it's obvious you never managed to find that spot before when you attempted to get yourself off.

he grins smugly, brushing his finger over the spot again, almost touching it but not quite enough to properly stimulate you. "that's the spot, ain't it, dollface?" the question is rhetorical. you both know that's the spot.

but before you can start grinding yourself down onto his finger, he abruptly pulls it out, admiring the way the digit is now coated in your shiny slick.

you open your mouth to protest, or beg for more, or something, but all rational thoughts leave your mind when you see toji slip his finger into his mouth, sucking your juices from it with a low grunt.

"damn, that's good," he mutters gruffly, almost to himself, as he slides it out of his mouth with a lewd pop! — his eyes then fall back on your glistening pussy, his pupils dilated considerably more than before.

in a matter of moments, toji's slid your ruined panties down your legs, admiring the sticky mess soiled there before shamelessly shoving them in his pocket of his sweatpants.

"hey!—" you huff half-heartedly, but before you can even think of finishing the sentence, toji's chapped lips are placing a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses up your thighs.

"mmph," you moan softly, not bothering to protest as he slides your thighs further apart with his palms, his lips nibbling against the supple skin of your inner thighs, undoubtably leaving small marks that will bloom tomorrow.

"wanna eat you," toji murmurs once he's face to face with your pussy, his hot breaths puffing across your sensitive skin and visibly making your little clit twitch impatiently. "can i eat you, dollface?"

you crease your eyebrows a little in confusion at his request. from what you'd heard from your college friends, guys hated performing oral for girls. but the way toji was staring hungrily at your cunt, his tongue swiping across his dry lips, made you think he would simply laugh at you again if you told him that.

"o-okay," you mutter sheepishly. and the second the agreement leaves your lips, toji's burying his entire face against your heat, groaning into your pussy as he rubs his sharp nose up and down your sopping folds.

when he first slides his rough tongue across your sensitive skin, you swear you go cross-eyed for a full moment before regaining control of yourself. it's like nothing you've ever felt before, wet and warm and so deliciously lewd.

"fuckin' sweeter than candy," toji grunts against your skin, the vibrations causing your body to instinctively attempt to wriggle away. but he's not having it, his beefy arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you in place. "ah ah, no runnin', baby."

while before you might've tried to argue a little in protest, your brain has already turned to mush from just his finger and his tongue, so you can only let out a few unintelligible murmurs.

"yeahhh," he snorts as he continues to sloppily lap at your folds, gathering as much of your syrupy slick on his tastebuds as possible. "don't hear none of that backtalk now."

god, he's so messy with it. you can hardly manage to keep your eyes open to gaze at him, but when you do, it only makes your pleasure heighten to new levels.

you've never seen your roommate so focused on anything before — not even those storage wars shows he likes to shout at on the tv. his eyes are half-lidded, his thick fingers are digging into your thighs so hard you can visibly see the marks forming, and his tongue is ruthless as it delves in and out of your dripping hole.

"t-toji, shit. feels so good," you manage to stammer out, your head thrown back and your hands traveling up to tangle in his messy dark hair without thinking, tugging on it gently.

your action draws a raspy chuckle from low in toji's throat, and his sloppy, shameless tongue seems to speed up even more in response. you vaguely register a glob of saliva landing on your pussy, but just as quick as it falls there, he's already licking it back up. "c'mon, girl, i know you can pull harder than that."

you attempt to tug his dishevelled strands harder, but your hands feel weak, and your thighs are starting to shake slightly around his head. you notice a familiar spring coiling in the depths of your stomach, but it feels more intense than any build-up to an orgasm you've given yourself before.

"t-think i'm close." you gasp out, your mouth hanging open as you try and keep your body from collapsing back against the mattress. he's quick to help, his hands sliding up the back of your skirt to support your back.

toji hums in satisfaction, a shit-eating (or, in this case, a pussy-eating) grin spreading across his lips as he continues to devour you, his tongue repeatedly massaging your g spot.

it feels like he's trying to eat you whole, and it's completely overwhelming in the best way possible.

"yeah?" he mutters against your cunt, wrapping his lips around your puffy, swollen clit and sucking the sensitive bud harshly. "go on then, baby. cum for me."

it feels like a part of you was instinctively waiting for his permission, because the second those words leave his mouth, your entire body starts convulsing in his strong arms, a strangled cry leaving your open mouth as you orgasm.

your earlier suspicion was right, because this is the hardest you've ever cum before in your entire life. (not that there's really much competition). your limbs feel all tingly and airy, and there aren't really many thoughts left in your mind except from toji, toji, toji.

"hmmph," toji grumbles, pulling back from your cunt after he's sure every bit of your sweet release is down his throat. he looks up at you, snickering gruffly at the utterly dumb look across your features.

you look completely fucked out already, and he hasn't even fucked you yet. that's what happens when you make a deal with a virgin, he assumes.

while you attempt to come down from your high, toji shifts slightly, his knees aching slightly from spending so long on the floor. but even worse than that, is the raging erection he has straining against the material of his sweatpants.

it's been there since he started kissing you, and it's only gotten progressively worse as the time stretched on. he's so hard now that it actually hurts, and the small stain of pre-cum darkening the front makes him feel like a damn teenager again.

toji gets to his feet, ignoring the way his stiff muscles protest, and sheds his sweats and his boxers in one swift movement, kicking them somewhere across the room. he makes his way between your legs, spreading them even further apart to make room for his body.

"wait..." you mumble dazedly, your words adorably slurred as you blink lazily up at him, reaching out a hand as if silently asking for something. "don't y'want me to return the favour first?"

he snorts, although it makes something inside him warm the slightest bit at your consideration. "nah, dollface. you're paying me, not the other way 'round, yeah?"

your pouty expression from earlier returns, but before you can argue further, your eyes fall on his cock, which you only just notice is free from his sweatpants. it's bigger than any you've seen videos of online before, with a prominent vein running down the length and pearly rivulets of pre-cum leaking from the pudgy tip.

your mouth falls into a small 'o' shape, a sudden sense of dread filling you at the mere thought of trying to take that inside of you. why did you have to make this deal with someone who has such an unnecessarily large dick?

toji chuckles deeply at your reaction, cocking his head to the side with a smug smirk. "what? don't tell me you're g'nna chicken out on me now, sweets?"

you could just smooth down your skirt, hand him your credit card as payment for what he's done for you already, and walk right out of his room the way you came in.

but you don't. you've come too far already to back out now — you're this close to finally losing your virginity.

"no," you murmur meekly, swallowing thickly and tearing your eyes away from his cock and meeting his eyes again. "i don't wanna stop. it's just... is that thing really gonna fit in me?"

he barks out an amused laugh at this, his rough palms on your thighs squeezing in what's probably his way of giving you a reassuring gesture. "it'll fit, baby. i loosened you up a little already, so that'll help."

"okay," you mutter, your eyes flickering back down as he wraps a large hand around the meaty base of his cock, lining it up with your entrance and rubbing it along your puffy folds, gathering some of your creamy slick on the head. "is it gonna hurt? it's gonna hurt, isn't it?"

toji huffs at your hurried rambling, leaning his head down to shut you up with a quick kiss to your lips. "it'll only hurt at the start," he grunts in as soothing a tone as he can muster, bracing a hand against the headboard above you.

this seems to ease your nerves, if only a little, and you nod in a sign of silent permission. but he doesn't appear satisfied with this, and he grasps your chin with his free hand. "that ain't good enough, dollface. use your words f'me."

"y-you can start now." you murmur in response, your eyes glued to the way the muscles in his arm flex above you as he begins to slowly push himself in.

"fuckin' shit," he groans, the sound more guttural than anything he's let out so far as his cock breaches the first ring of muscle inside of you, his beefy arm visibly shaking as he tries to hold himself back from just plunging all the way in. "so damn tight in here."

your face contorts into a grimace as a rush of pain pangs through your body, your hands clutching at the sheets for purchase. you'd heard about it hurting online, but then again, most people didn't take a cock as big as toji's for their first time.

"sorry, babydoll." he mutters hoarsely, his gruff tone holding an underlying tone of genuine sympathy instead of the amusement he's shown so far — he's clearly aware of the strain he's having on your body.

he gives you a few moments to adjust to the intrusion, gritting his teeth to hold back any sounds that threaten to spill out of his mouth when he feels your cunt clenching and unclenching around him.

"you can keep going now," you manage to say, your eyes screwed shut and your hands fisted in the bedcovers as you try to deal with the pain. "i'm okay."

he grunts in response, the hand that was around your chin moving to grasp one of your balled up hands as he continues to sink himself inside inch by inch. he can feel how hard you squeeze his hand the entire time, probably cutting off the circulation to his arm in the process.

but he couldn't care less about that. not when he so close to finally being balls deep inside of his pretty little roommate.

"biiiig stretch." toji hums, a low, drawn out sound, when he finally feels himself bottom out, your spongy walls contracting and fluttering around him as if they can't decide whether to push the intrusion out or pull it in deeper. "there we go."

you, on the other hand, couldn't manage to string together a single syllable. it feels like toji has buried himself into your guts, like he's physically rearranging your anatomy right before your eyes.

toji lets his own eyes flutter shut for a moment, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. he knows you need a while to adjust to taking all of him, but damn if he doesn't want to pound you into the mattress right now.

you let out a strangled groan, wriggling around against the covers as your body stretches to accommodate his sheer size. it feels like he could split you in half without much effort. "p-please... start moving, toji."

"you sure?" he rasps gruffly, his hand gripping the headboard so hard his knuckles have gone completely white. "once i start i prolly won't be able to stop."

"i-i don't care. just..." you begin, unable to even finish the thought when he shifts slightly, unintentionally pushing into you even deeper. "move."

he snorts at your desperation, but the sound turns into something akin to a growl when he pulls out slightly, before shoving himself right back in all the way.

"ah!" you sob pathetically, clinging onto his hand even tighter as he starts to shallowly thrust into you. shit, you're pretty sure you just felt something inside of you snap.

you're officially no longer a virgin.

"yeahhh." toji grunts above you, his lips spreading into a pussydrunk grin as he moves he moves his hips leisurely but expertly. you're starting to understand why his hookups always cry his name so loud through the thin walls separating your rooms.

the initial pain slowly starts to fade, being replaced by an overwhelming sense of pleasure and fullness. you bring your shaky legs up to wrap around his beefy back, your ankles locking against his skin.

"jesus, girl," he groans, his hips subtly stuttering in their pace in response to your actions. "y'er pullin' me in even deeper."

you open your mouth to apologize, or retort, or something, but it comes out as a slurred garble when you feel toji's fat cockhead brush against your cervix.

"uh huhh." he grins smugly, his hand that was interlaced with yours moving down to grip your hip and keep you in place as he quickens his pace slightly. he's being a little gentler than he usually would be just for you, but this is still toji here.

"t-too much!" you cry out, reaching up to grasp onto his bicep above you for some sort of support. your entire body is jolting against the covers in response to his increasingly hard thrusts, your mouth hanging open dumbly.

"nah, dollface," he grunts in protest, his fingers digging into the skin of your hip as if to ground you. "i know y'can take it. doing so damn well f'me."

toji brings his palm up from your hip to slide under your previously bunched up shirt, fondling your breasts and rolling one of your hardened nipples between his fingers.

this makes a loud mewl escape from your throat, your cunt clenching around him in response to the dual sensations. if you thought his tongue made you reach new heights of pleasure, his cock is a completely different beast.

you can already feel something strange stirring in the depths of your stomach. it's not like your previous orgasm, it's unfamiliar — it almost feels like you're about to pee.

"t-toji, feels weird," you slur out, squirming against the covers as you try to hold the rising sensation at bay. "like i'm gonna pee or something. m-maybe y'should pull out."

he barks out a laugh at this, as if he knows something you don't. his hand moves down to pat your stomach, right where the prominent bulge of his cock is moving in and out.

"that means you're gonna squirt, baby." he utters simply, making your eyes widen in surprise. now that's something you've definitely never managed to make yourself do before.

looks like you're gonna be ticking off more than one first from the list today.

"makin' ya squirt for y'er first time," he proclaims cockily, smirking to himself as he effortlessly keeps up the languid rolls of his hips. "i'm damn good, ain't i?"

"i haven't even squirted yet." you grumble, heat flooding to your cheeks in response to his teasing. he's still your annoyingly smug roommate, even when he's fucking you into his mattress.

"key word — yet." toji shrugs in response, his lethal thrusts quickening in pace. his rough palm pushes down right above your bulging tummy, causing you to let out a strangled gasp.

your cunt clenches impossibly tighter around him, your ankles digging into the skin of his back as you feel your second orgasm of the night start to wash over you. "fuck. g-gonna..."

"yeah? c'mon, baby, make a mess all on me." he grunts gruffly, his hand moving down to rub lazy, sloppy circles against your puffy clit, the nub pulsing under his touch.

"tojiiii!" you practically sob, the added stimulation sending you hurling over the edge before you can process it. your vision goes completely white with the intensity of your high, your breaths coming in heavy gasps.

"oh, thattt's it," he hums in satisfaction, lightly patting your pussy as he watches the gushes of clear liquid squirt out, lewdly coating the base of his cock and balls in your essence. "fuckin' good girl."

it only takes him a couple more strokes for toji to know he's close too, and he quickly pulls out, slapping his thick cock against the flushed skin of your tummy and giving it a few final jerks.

as much as he'd love to fill you up, he figures that since you're a virgin, you probably wouldn't be on birth control.

and he's not about take that risk.

toji lets out a low, raspy grunt as he spills his creamy, pearlescent cum all over your stomach, tainting the supple skin with his sticky, oozy mess.

he lazily tugs his boxers and sweatpants back up, wiping some sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand before leaning down and giving your cheek a quick, wet kiss.

then he saunters out of the room, leaving you panting and limp on his bed while he rifles through your purse on the living room table.

"i would've done that for free, by the way." toji mutters amusedly as he pulls out your credit card, waving it tauntingly in front of his face with the smuggest grin yet stretching at his lips. "see ya in thirty six hours, dollface."

© 2024 SUGOROO. please don't copy or translate any of my works without my explicit permission. all rights are reserved to me.

i’d like to dedicate my first proper fic to @screampied because her works inspired me to begin writing my own! <3

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

[pepperyduck]

warnings: nsfw (18+ mdni), scummy mean bad boyfriend gojo, dubcon (kinda), dacryphylia, p in v, unprotected sex, finishing inside without permission, really nasty stuff, female reader.

"aww, don't look so sad," gojo coos, a cocky grin plastered on his face that you wanted to slap off oh-so-badly. but with the current position you were in, the strength you needed for that had been wiped away hours ago.

gojo had been harshly fucking into you for what felt like days, gyrations of his hips not missing a beat, all the while barely breaking a sweat.

your clothes were discarded in front of his door, now laid fully naked in front of him, legs unable to close from the swift motion of his pelvis banging into you at full speed. wrists pinned down next to your sides, unable to fight the light-haired man on anything he did, all you could do was lay there and take it.

fat tears roll dramatically down your cheeks, begging him to stop the relentless pounding, because at this point, your mind is too fuzzy and far gone to formulate words. you loathed the way he confidently stood over you, sunglasses barely making their way down his nose, shirt only halfway unbuttoned and slacks pulled down enough to get what he wanted.

"how does it feel, baby?" gojo taunts, "now, don't cry." your boyfriend fakes pity as he lets go of one of your wrists to bring a thumb up to your face. he sweetly wipes a tear away as you turn your arm to hold onto the sheets for dear life, because you were sure it'd be taken out of you by the end of the night.

"hurts, 'toru," you quaver, earning a sharp thrust that pierces your cervix. gojo only smiles wider when you clench around him tighter, holding your face, continuing to dry your constant tears that rolled out your left eye.

he's so mean.

and to get even meaner, he releases your other wrist, and quickly hooks both of his arms behind your knees to press them into your chest, folding you in half. he releases a guttural moan at the new angle, your walls tensing up again, this time permanently. he fastens his pace, the sound of skin slapping becoming even louder.

"god, i'm so close," he groans, "let me fill you up, c'mon," gojo eggs you on. your eyes widen and you immediately begin to push on his chest, to no avail. he doesn't let up. he won't let up.

"no- please!" you frailly shout, attempts to knock him away useless. "don't!" you cry, words landing into deaf ears.

"aww, c'mon!" he pleads, "just this once, baby, please?" he sounds so confident and desperate all in the same, rutting into you deeper and deeper.

"you said you wouldn't 'toru!" you wail, hands pushing against the fabric of his button down, fingers practically tearing into the cloth. another thrust sends a wave of pain through your body, "it hurts!"

gojo's length continues the assault on your insides, barely giving time between pulling out and bullying its way back inside, hitting you so nastily. your boyfriend simply doesn't care how much you cry.

"sorry, baby," gojo purrs, "you know i can't help myself."

[ddejavvu]

eddie teaching venom about love languages <33

"Physical touch is," Eddie starts, shoulder bumped up beside yours on the couch, but Venom cuts in, head hovering over Eddie's shoulder.

"That is the one where we fuck her." Venom announces proudly, toothy grin aimed in your direction. You stifle a laugh and Eddie groans, head tosses back against the couch cushions.

"Yeah. Yeah, that's the one where we fuck her," Eddie drawls, exasperated, "But that's also, like, holding hands, kissing, that kind of stuff."

"That one is my favorite." Venom declares, "I do not care about the other ones."

"Yes you do," You counter, and Venom's milky white eyes turn to you again, "'Cause there's gift-giving. That's when I bring you chocolate. And chickens."

"I gave Eddie the gift of a decapitated man once," Venom reminisces, "But he hated it. Does that mean he does not love me?"

"That's not a gift, buddy." Eddie shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the gory memory, "That's- I mean maybe you thought that was a gift, but gifts are supposed to be nice things, like flowers or a teddy bear."

"Teddy bears are useless!" Venom roars, and you know he's only speaking out of deep-seated loathing for your own stuffed animal, which the symbiote is rather jealous of.

"I would much rather receive a head," He huffs, turning back to Eddie, "Does it mean that you do not love me because you do not give me heads to eat?"

"No," Eddie rubs a tired hand over his face, "Let's- let's just move on. Uh, words of affirmation."

"You're so handsome," You croon at Venom, who blinks as you stroke the back of your hand along his goopy cheek, "And you're a great protector, I always feel safe around you."

"See?" Eddie nods, "Just like that. Nice things you say to the person you love."

"You are very small," Venom practices, and while it's true compared to his gargantuan size, it's not much of a compliment, "And I like that you feel safe around me even though I could easily rip your head off. And eat it. You would not stand a chance."

"We'll work on it," Eddie mutters, "Alright, acts of service."

"Like when Eddie gives me a shoulder massage," You hum, stretching out the tense muscles in your neck, "Or when I wash his hair for him in the shower. That's nice things you do for the person you love."

"I am good at that!" Venom boasts, "I make you breakfast sometimes."

"Yeah," Eddie nods, voice strained, and you play along even though you know that the attending to the mess that comes with Venom's cooking is more effort than doing it yourself, "Yeah, buddy, that's good. You're right, that's really nice of you."

"I am very nice," Venom agrees, bobbing his head up and down, "Are there more?"

"Quality time-" You and Eddie speak in unison, laughing sheepishly at each other. It's Eddie that continues, "Like what we're doing now. Sitting together, talking, just hanging out and being with each other."

"When he takes me on dates, too," You chime in, your voice a soft hum, "Or when you take me around the city, big guy."

You tap at Venom's cheek and he nods, blinking once in understanding.

"I like quality time," Venom decides, the thick black ooze connecting his head to Eddie's shoulder sucking him back in until his face is nestled between yours and Eddie's. It's an odd feeling on your hair but you and Eddie hold your positions anyways, intent on drilling non-sexual physical touch into the symbiote.

"Me too," You nod, and Eddie pitches in his confirmation, "Which one is your favorite, V?"

"Mm," The symbiote hums, but it sounds more like the revving engine of a car, "I do not know. I like getting gifts, but I like sitting with you, too. I like them all."

"Too hard to choose," Eddie agrees, "You?"

"More of the same," You conclude, turning your face so that your nose nudges Venom's cheek. He purrs, not unlike a cat, sounding more engine-like than ever, and his large eyes slip shut.

"Naptime," Eddie chimes, reaching over to grab your hand in his. You smile, puckering your lips to send him a kiss that you can't press to his cheek unless you break away from Venom. He pretends to catch it where the symbiote can't see, slapping it onto his cheek and acting injured at the recoil.

"Oh," He groans while you giggle, "You throw a mean kiss."

You settle against Eddie's side, and it's odd having Venom's face in between you to where you can't rest on the man's shoulder, but he's a nice pillow in and of himself. You're only seconds away from fully drifting off to sleep when Venom's jaw moves against your face, and he whispers (terribly), "Eddie. Are you awake?"

"Yes, Venom." Eddie groans, but by the sound of his voice, he wishes he wasn't, "What do you need?"

"I decided on a favorite," Venom informs Eddie, and you listen under the guise of closed eyelids, "I like the sex one best."

You can't help it; you let out a snort.

"Nice going, V," Eddie squeezes your hand, shutting his eyes once more and attempting to get comfortable, "I'm sure that's just the answer she wanted to hear."

[spookykoolkat]

kinktober | the man in apartment 6a - j.m.

kinktober day three - dumbification

pairing: older!joel miller x younger!plus size!reader

wc: 9.0k

summary: your older, grumpier yet handy neighbor can hear everything that goes on in the comfort of your pink four walled bedroom, simply because shitty apartment buildings made the walls so thin.

warnings: 18+ ONLY! minors are NEVER welcomed. pervy!joel, creepy!joel, older!joel, JOEL IS WARNING IN HIMSELF LOL, mentions of self loathing, uncomfortable sex (not with joel), marijuana use, alcohol use, fingering, oral (f receiving), manhandling, degradation (slight), creampie/breeding, pet names (sweet girl, sweetheart, pretty girl, baby, dumb, stupid, daddy), a little bit of ass eating (whoops), raw penetration (p in v) *wrap it up pls*, aftercare

reblogs, likes and comments are very very appreciated!

⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧ °｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧

IT WAS A FRIDAY NIGHT, work was tired, and you needed to take the edge off with a fat blunt and a full glass of wine. it was so quiet in the apartment complex you lived in that you might be the loudest one there, since three of your neighbors are older than 50. 

so after you poured your bottle of wine into a glass, you turned your led lights under your coffee table on and the bulbs that are in your two lamps beside your couch. it was such a colorful scenery, you loved smoking and drinking like this with music or a movie on in the background. making sure to not turn the volume up too loud, or else joel would come knocking on your door asking you to turn it down. 

joel was your neighbor in 6a and to you he always seemed like he had a thorn stuck in his ass cheek. he was a bitter old man who seemed like he hated fun, or maybe he just hated you. 

but you didn’t care much. nothing was going to stop you from being you, being bubbly and optimistic. it makes no sense to you to sit solemnly and think about every wrong turn you’ve ever made, and yet it seems that’s all joel does. 

he was always on edge, noticing the way he would flinch meeting you as the two of you locked your doors and headed off to work. you watched him from your window when he walked into the complex up the stairs, and noticed how he always had his jaw and fists clenched, head whipping in every direction before seemingly slipping inside his apartment and locking up. 

it made you curious as to what made him so tense, so frustrated and even paranoid. you wished you were someone he could go to, to release all of his ugly emotions and thoughts onto you. maybe you were being young and naive, having irrational sex daydreams as you gathered your paraphernalia to roll a blunt. It was delusional, yes you knew that, but you couldn’t help but fantasize about your neighbor.

but you wanted him in every way. you didn’t care he was twice your age, and you didn’t care that he was about as introverted and mean as they come. he’s a real asshole. to you, you felt you were allowed these fantasies given he’d never be the type of man that would want you. i mean, you were young enough to be his daughter, and you weren’t so sure that he even liked bigger women.

shaking your thoughts of him, you hummed along to whatever song that was on your halloween playlist playing loudly. soon after it’s rolled, you spark it up and take hits of it as you throw your body back on the couch.

you feel at ease as you listen to your playlist and smoke your blunt, enjoying peace for a day. your hair was still wet from the shower you took, and your blunt was barely starting to form a good cherry when three bangs hit your door over the music that startled you. 

you take a few more hits trying to get the most out of your blunt and ash it out quickly, yelling a choked out, i’m coming!!, over the music. you get up with your wine glass, walking barefoot to the door and opening it as your eyes meet a broad chest in a button up black and gray flannel, buttoned over a plain white t-shirt. 

joel.

“uh, hey. what’s up?” you say, setting your glass down on your door side table. 

“you told me your toilet wasn’t workin’? didya need me to take a look?” he asked as he unsubtly soaked in your attire. shit. you completely forgot your piece of shit toilet stopped flushing. 

you noticeably had no bra on, and your tank top was resting at the curve of your waist with one strap off of your shoulder, showing off your plush body and midriff. he could almost see the hardening of your nipples when you opened the door. 

“oh, right. i thought you meant you could do it like, monday.” you said, wishing to just relax tonight. he shook his head and looked back over your body, before meeting your eyes. 

“i’m busy monday. it’s now or never,” he bargained with a hard tone and you rolled your eyes.

“of course, right, sorry. come in.” you said and moved out of the way to step inside your girly apartment. you went to your coffee table to grab the remote and turn the volume down a little on your tv. 

“the restroom is-,” you start to say and go towards it until he cuts you off. 

“i know where it is. i’ll be done in a bit,” he said coldly and you pressed your lips into a thin line. he renovated these apartments dumbass. 

“alright.” you said and let him go to the back hall to find the restroom, and you released a breath. 

you felt like you looked messy, you just got out of the shower and had no bra on, and didn’t have panties on either. you were embarrassed. 

it was a free night for you and he had to barge in. of course. you decided to grab your wine and sit down on the couch, eyeing the blunt wishing you could be smoking it right now. instead you sip on your wine and scroll on your phone for maybe thirty minutes until he calls out for you. 

“coming!” you replied a little too cheery, and walked to the back rooms to see him on his hands and knees trying to reach under the toilet with his tools sprawled out on your pink bath rug. 

joel tried to hide the smile that grew when he heard your eager voice.

“yeah?” you asked and blushed at his image. he looked so sexy with his eyebrows furrowed, even sexier looking so manly in such a pink room. His dark colored clothes made an exciting difference in your bathroom. 

joel quickly scaled you over, from your bare feet with black toenails up to your week old shaven legs, up your wide thighs, to the fat of your tummy and the curves of your breasts. 

“you think i can have me a water bottle?” he asked, and you smiled, completely unaware he was thinking of bending you over the sink and making you watch yourself take all of him.

joel had a teensy crush on you the second he saw you at his doorstep. 

you mustered up the strength to knock on two doors to be greeted by two elderly ladies, and introduce yourself as their neighbors while giving them cookies you baked for them. 

you figured it was the best way to gain their trust and familiarity as you were going to be living here for a while. and while it worked on them, you weren’t so sure about your last neighbor. you were nervous. you hated socializing and to introduce yourself as the new person in the area, but the last door you knocked on was one that truly ruined your day. 

the door swung open ferociously to present a tall broad figure with tan skin, eyes tired and hair all ruffled. you could tell he just woke up, and you instantly regretted it. the force of the door opening made you feel a gust of wind, and chills. 

you were taught it was common courtesy to introduce yourself when you’re new somewhere, though it didn’t seem he was happy to see you at his doorstep all cheery and energized.

“uh, hi, i’m your neighbor in 6C, i just moved in and i just wanted to introduce myself,” you said and told him your name, with a small smile. he kind of just looked at you blankly, adjusting his eyes to your figure and face. 

“i, uh i made cookies for everyone so, i thought i’d bring them by cus i just like to bake and i thought maybe it’d be a peace offering... it’s okay if not i just wanted to be nice,” you rambled looking into his brown eyes as you held the plate covered in foil out with your hands. he looked between the plate, you and next to him to look at the clock on his doorway table.  

you were nervous, tapping your fingers on the plate and biting the inside of your cheek. he was so handsome. so manly. 

“you’re knockin at my door at eight thirty in the morning ona saturday to give me some cookies?” he asked, making sure what was happening was real. it was a little comical to him, only seeing shit like this in the movies. but to him, you were cute. he knew he didn’t carry southern hospitality and kindness like most, like you.

“you don’t have to take them. just tryna be nice,” you mumbled and pulled your arms back, your texan accent almost as thick as his. 

“Mmhmm, well i don’t need no cookies this mornin’,” he said surely. it kind of pissed you off honestly. 

“forget about it,” you said and turned your head down, moving to the door next to his and opening it right before mumbling, “asshole,” and slamming your door shut.

you were just so cute, so lively that he was drawn to you. it was odd because joel’s taste in women usually ranged, but he’d never been so drawn to a woman who seemed so eager to take on the world everyday. joel wasn’t used to seeing people so happy to leave the comfort of their homes to go into the city and interact with people, he wasn’t used to people making small talk as you fetch the mail at the same time. but that was you. 

he would just shake you off, mumble words to get you to stop being so cheerful and kind. he didn’t want you to waste your time on him, he didn’t deserve your kindness. you heard the small comments. 

“so damn pink,” 

“ya have to hum all the way down four flights of stairs?”

“you ever not dressed in glitter and ponies?” 

which he over exaggerated, you just liked pink. you would ignore the mean comments, and you would force yourself to remember that he is a man of cutting down trees and building houses with his bare hands. whatever you think is manly, he is. he wore nothing but dark colors, denim, work boots, and still had the iphone eight which seemed like it was forced on him. 

but this is the first time he spoke to you remotely nice, and asked you for anything. 

“yeah, uh do you want like, ice or just room temp?” you asked a bit embarrassed, wondering if that was a dumb question to ask. and a small, very small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth but it was so slight you almost gaslit yourself into seeing it. 

“don’t matter sweetheart, whatever ya wanna get me,” he said and went back to doing whatever it was he was doing. 

your tummy just fluttered at the small pet name as you pushed yourself off the door frame and moved to the kitchen.

never did you ever think you would hear a word like that come out of his mouth when referring to you.

you grabbed a water bottle and grabbed some ice chips with a scoop to pour it into a tall thermos. you took it straight to joel, and he faced you as you leaned down a bit to hand him the cup. from your stance, he could practically see down your shirt but only stole a small glance. 

you couldn’t notice, you were just excited to do something nice for him. 

“you need anything else?” you asked with your hands behind your back, your chest poking out a bit more and the light made it easy to see your nipples against the cloth. 

“nah, i got all i need, you can go relax.” he said and went back to work as you walked off. 

you wondered if there was a softness to his voice as you sat back down on the couch, turning your music up a little bit but not loud enough to get bitched at by joel. you figured he’d might be here for a bit given his outbursts of cursing because something wasn’t working with him, so you grabbed your blunt and lit it again. this was your apartment. 

joel was frustrated enough from the stupid toilet. a bolt kept untightening every time he tried to flush, and it pissed him off enough but kept him busy as he smelled the scent of strong weed filling his nose. he knew he smelled it when he walked in, but now he can smell the smoke and hear your muffled coughs every once and a while.

he was actually a bit surprised, for some reason you didn’t seem like the type to partake. he knows in his days he did, so he wasn’t judging you at all, it just didn’t seem like something a girl like you would do. you seemed so… behaved.

he ended up managing to find the bolt he was looking for because it fell somewhere and skidded across the restroom floor. 

joel didn’t mind working on things for the neighbors in his complex, he was really the only one that was able to fix almost everything in sight. he was never bothered by it either, in the back of his mind he wanted to feel like he was needed. like he could do some type of good for people even if he was closed off and cold. his hands were godsend, and in many ways. 

but he’d always see things maybe the resident wouldn’t want him to see, like a box of condoms or a sex toy. it didn’t bother him, he’d just ignore it.

but here he was, still and frozen as he finally found the bolt laying on a pair of red panties that were laid on your floor like you just had these on. and you did. 

you managed to get all of your clothes in the hamper except the pair of panties you had on, you actually thought maybe it was in the tangles of your clothes. but no. there they were, and he was on his way to losing his mind. he couldn’t move, he just stared at the red high cut panties that even had a black bow on the trim. 

he couldn’t stop himself. before he knew it, he grabbed your underwear and almost inspected them quickly before taking them, pushing the fabric into his nose and breathing in your musk, and folding them to put in his back pocket. he felt drunk on you already. he knew it was wrong, he knew he was probably a sick man. but he needed something from you, anything. 

the opportunity showed itself, he just took it. 

now, he still smelled you lingering on his nose, and imagined what your pussy looked like puffy and red for him. he wanted to fill you up completely and fuck you until you were sore and throbbing, he wanted to see those cute little glossy lips of yours kissing the tip of his cock and taking it in your throat like a fleshlight. 

you were just perfect. so much for him to grab, kiss, and mark. he wanted your eyes to watch him devour you whole, and he craved to watch you break for him.

he knew he was a creep. he didn’t care. joel never acted on his desires and his pervy ways, until now, when really he wanted to do it all. whenever you came out to the mailboxes the same time as he did, he wanted to get his phone and sneak pictures of you, under your skirts more specifically. 

he was thinking of if you’ve ever fucked yourself here in this very restroom he’s crouched in, thinking of the way your leg would lift to rest on some vantage point, fingering your hole until you fought to stand upright again. he imagined you walking in a little white towel back to your room, drying off and getting dressed in front of him. his cock was throbbing at the image, pairing it with the image of the red panties he stole. 

he couldn’t work like this, not thinking of all of the ways he wanted to make you whine, make you squirm, make you cum. 

he finally managed to fix the problem after 30 minutes and flushing once to test, smiling at his success. it was always satisfying seeing something broken be fixed, he was a problem solver, he loved the challenge. he cleaned up his area and picked up his tools, putting them in the bag and fixing himself before he washed his hands and wiped them down with a towel, leaving the restroom to see you puffing a small roach of your blunt. 

“y’know you shouldn’t be smokin in here,” he said and you jumped a bit, exhaling the last bit of smoke and ashing it out in your ashtray. you just looked at him with a small smile, but realizing this is your apartment. he can’t tell you what to do. 

“oh, well i mean, i thought… i mean it’s my apartment, so,” you said as you blushed, feeling like you’re in trouble now. 

“don’t worry yourself, darlin’. i ain’t gonna tell on you,” he suggested and you blushed, somehow even more. 

“would you want like, a drink? the least i can do,” you said as you grabbed a dos equis from your fridge and walked up to him, handing it to him. he was hesitant at first, really in deep thought about whether he should accept this or not. was it opening a door? he hoped so. 

“thanks,” he said and took it from you, not looking at the green bottle at all. he put his tools down on the small table you had in your kitchen and followed you to sit on the loveseat on the right side of the living room. 

“it’s joel by the way, no one calls me mr. miller,” he said as he took a swig. you nodded and responded ohh, moving to drink more of your wine. you ended up changing your music to a horror movie and kept your eyes trained on that instead of his eyes. you felt him watching you, every breath you took, every blink, every lip bite. 

“so who lived here before me?” you asked to break the silence, looking to him from the movie. his eyes were already on you, you just met them. you figured you’d make some sort of conversation if he was going to sit there and drink a beer. who drinks together silently? 

“nother’ older lady, she was a good neighbor,” he trailed and drank from his beer. you quirked your eyebrows, drinking from the wine glass and keeping it by your side. 

“am i not a good neighbor?” you asked sweetly, genuinely curious. he refrained himself from getting up from his seat and showing how good of a neighbor you really were to him. 

“you are, just a little loud from time to time.” he admitted, more so talking about your unsatisfying experiences with the men you bring him. 

“am i? i’m sorry, i’ll try to keep it down,” you said softly, almost embarrassed and you looked at your fingers tapping on the rim of the wine glass. 

“s’alright, it ain’t too distracting.” he lied. of course it was distracting. he was begging to know what you sounded like when you were really enjoying yourself, how you looked under him and on top of him. how he imagined you in his room instead. 

“still, i don’t wanna be that neighbor that’s annoying,” you said and looked back up at him to where he’s sitting. “i feel like you hate me.” you finished. 

he doesn't blame you. he doesn't make it easy for people to know him, or make a nice impression firsthand. he kind of feels bad for making you feel like that. but he was just not that friendly honestly, not that nice and not that comforting. at least he felt he was. he didn’t know how to be. 

“it’s nothin’ personal,” he said and drank from his bottle again, letting his eyes trail over your body. you felt it, hell you saw it, and you still squirmed. 

“i prefer to be by myself.” he said and you nodded, but he was still watching you. 

“i see. i understand now, sorry for imposing most of the time.” you say with an apologetic smile, and he kind of smiled. it shocked you really to see any emotion other than anger and discomfort displayed on his face.

“you don’t bother me, not one bit.” he said to reassure you, but he wanted you to know you did far more than “bothering” him. you just smiled, blushing a bit at his confession.

“so is it just you living here?” you asked and saw his face look a little pained, and again you regret opening your mouth. 

“uh, no actually. i have a sixteen year old i sort of adopted. just me and my daughter.” he said and you were a little shocked. how did you never manage to see her? or hear her?

“she goes on her own a lot, friends places, parties. i know she can handle herself so, she has my number if anything happens.” he answered your internal questions. 

“that’s really sweet. i wished my parents did that. i kind of had to move away from them’ after i graduated. m’ not really on speaking’ terms with any of my family.” you admitted a little sadly, even though he didn’t ask.  you seemed as though you could talk for hours if no one shut you up. 

“i’m sorry to hear that,darlin’,” he said and continued to drink his beer until he finished it. 

“it’s fine, i’m a lot happier now than i was before.” you said with a small smile, and drank from your wine glass. joel was glad you took the attention off of him and his daughter, not asking any questions about his situation. he appreciated it. 

he just nodded, finishing his beer as you finished your wine and suddenly you were nervous. again. it was just you and him, in this colorfully lit room. you looked at him as he got up, and walked to the kitchen to grab his tools. no no wait wait you can’t leave, not yet. 

“thank ya for the hospitality, i should go,” he said coldly and you almost scrambled to your feet to step in front of him. 

“um, wait uh,” you tried to think of an excuse. anything. something to keep him here a little longer. he looked down at you, how flustered you were, how you looked like you were trying to come up with an excuse. you really even didn’t think it through, you were just acting on the pulsing in your shorts.

but suddenly, you got a bit insecure. you didn’t know joel’s type, and you wondered what the outcome would be of throwing yourself at him. 

“yeah?” he asked and tilted his head, curious as to what you had to say. truth is, he didn’t wanna leave either. how could he wanna leave when you looked so desirable right now? he couldn’t even feel bad that he was practically 20 years older than you, he wanted to ruin you. 

“um, nothing, m’ sorry.” you said. you admitted defeat. there was nothing you could’ve said or done to make him stay, at least that's what you thought. 

“have a good night,” you said and he repeated it to you. you walked him out, shutting the door behind him. 

⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧ °｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧

joel was still awake after his shower. not by choice. he was laying in his bed, checking the time on his clock that flashes at 2:30am, and back at the wall that connects the two of you. were you seriously this unaware at how loud you were? 

he was thanking god that ellie wasn’t home, so she wouldn’t be hearing any of this either. but he was also wondering if you were even enjoying yourself in the first place. 

after joel left, you felt this aching feeling that you couldn’t satisfy yourself so you just called a friend over. one that you really don’t know, and you don’t care about, but one that wanted to have sex with you just as bad as you wanted to have sex with joel. 

one thing led to another and there you are once again, laying in bed as this guy poorly ate you out and uncomfortably fingered you. it just didn’t feel right, and at this point you were hoping he was done. your fake moans rang through the apartment again, wondering if you were over or under selling it. to the lanky guy between your legs, you were selling it just fine. 

you even tried thinking of joel being the one sliding into you as this guy did, but you doubted he'd be this painfully terrible at sex. it didn’t feel enjoyable, it just felt like blindly jabbing at your cervix. not even 10 minutes later, that man is out your door and you're back in bed, feeling miserable with yourself. 

you wanted for once to have a good sexual encounter, constantly feeling ugly and used. these men didn’t even care about you and didn’t care if you were satisfied, and you hated yourself for it. the physical intimacy you wanted seemed like it was something you wouldn’t be able to find. 

you craved a man’s touch even if you hated it or not, maybe blaming it on your daddy issues or just blaming the fact that you looked for the wrong things in the wrong thing. you wanted comfort and protection and looked for it in sex. 

you wanted joel. you wanted him since you moved in despite him being a dick. you wanted to know how it felt to be protected by him, to be held by him, to be wanted by him. and you wanted it so bad, you started crying. loudly, at that. 

in the moment, joel felt like he was imposing on your privacy. he felt bad listening to your muffled cries like this, and he wanted to do everything he could to help you. he knew so little about your family situation, but to him you had no family. he never saw you with friends, he only saw you with a new man every week. he wanted to comfort you, to show you that he and you were more alike than you thought.

he heard it stop for about twenty minutes all of the sudden, and then something bump into the wall he was staring at. then, it started again.  

you just laid there after your shower, now softly crying and sniffling as you heard a soft knocking on your front door. you got a little scared, so you wiped your tears fast and slipped on the shorts you had on to go open your door. it was dark in the main room, only a small orange lighting shining in front of your windows. you even noticed finally that it was actually pouring rain outside.

“who is it?” you said a little loudly, too nervous to peek through the hole. you fiddled with your polished black nails before the person answered. 

“it’s joel,” he said and you paused. 

“joel?” you asked. 

 you quickly unlocked your door to open it enough to peek your head out. 

“what are you doing here?” you asked, looking up at him. you scanned over his attire, now barefoot and in a simple black shirt and pajama pants. his head was whipping right and left, seeing if anyone else was in the hall to see him. 

now, he was the one that was nervous. what was he doing here? what did he think was going to happen? if he played it right, everything he ever wanted. 

“can i come in?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck and you gulp, opening the door wider to allow his broad figure in your home. your eyes were trained down, refusing to let him look at you. 

“can i get you something? water?” you asked, still not facing him and turning a lamp on next to your couch and moving past him until he grabs your wrist firmly. you still, and you have no choice but to look at him with your bloodshot eyes. 

“i can hear, y’know,” he said, paying attention to your tear stained face as you slowly looked up to him. 

“hear? hear what?” you said unknowingly. 

“everything. i can hear the guys you bring home, i can hear you moanin’, i can hear you cryin’,” he said, pulling you closer to him. by now you were almost to his chest as he grabbed your other wrist and held you tight. 

“i-,” you began but you felt humiliated. you didn’t realize he could really hear everything, that he heard everything that transpired in your room tonight. 

“did he make you cry?” he asked grimly, his eyes dark and his stare serious.

he wasn’t squeezing hard enough to hurt you, your breath just caught in your throat because you were nervous. nervous to admit to anything. 

“no, he didn’t, he didn’t do anything to me,” you said and looked down at his hands gripping your flesh. 

“it doesn’t matter. i’m just really sorry, i didn’t know that’s what you meant earlier. i’m sorry it won’t happen again.” you apologized with tears in your eyes. the guy who you fucked wasn’t even worth all of this embarrassment that flooded you. 

“then why’re you cryin, sweet girl?” he asked, moving his hand to your chin so you can look up at him. 

“i, it’s nothing, i’m sorry for waking you up,” you said and blinked your tears away, your hands falling to your side when he released you. you just stood there though, his hand on your cheek while his thumb rubbed circles into your face. 

“it ain’t nothin. he wasn’t makin’ you feel good? made you feel bad?” his southern accent was thick in this tone, but for some reason you felt at ease. better now that he was here. 

“he made me feel bad,” you were too nervous to lie, he already heard you through the wall. 

“i know, baby, i know,” he said. you really couldn’t move, the words coming from his mouth were insane to you. you couldn’t fathom the fact that he was talking like this, to you. his hands slid to grip your hips, to feel the way they curve into your waist, resting at the small of your back so that now you’re pressed against his body. 

“i never hated ya,” he said, his face getting closer to yours to where you could feel his breath on your lips. while your breathing was faltered and shaky, his was calm and collected. he wasn’t nervous anymore, he was determined. 

“actually, i think i like you more than i’d like t’ admit,” he whispered, moving his lips to your ear and your neck. 

“what are you talkin’ about?” you breathed. your arms just went slack, you didn’t know what to do with them, if you should finally touch him and feel his hard chest, feel his body the way he feels yours, or if you just want to accept that this is a dream. 

you finally move your hands to his waist and grip tightly onto his shirt, almost like if you let go you’ll fall. 

“i know you feel the same, darlin’. i can hear you, remember? i can hear you callin’ for me, moanin’ for me when you touch yourself.” your breath shook slightly and he smiled against your neck, moving his hands up your back. 

and the only thing you can say, that your brain can think of, is to apologize. 

“none of that, don’t do that. tell me sweetheart, do ya want me to make you feel good?” he asked, and you pulled his body closer to yours. 

“do, um, do you want to do that?” you were so unsure of all this. did he truly like you? did he truly find you attractive? you never failed to question men’s sincerity, was this just for pleasure or was this emotional? 

“my sweet baby, if i ever say no to you like that, i’ve gone fuckin’ senile,” he groaned against your neck. 

“y’know how many times i've thought about being between these legs of yours?” there was nothing else that could’ve made you as wet as you were right now, you heard the roughness of his texas accent, the lust mixing with desire. he wanted nothing but you. 

“been wantin’ t’ ruin those little skirts you wear. jus’ wanna watch you fall apart on my cock,” your eyes widened and you felt a pool of arousal coat your cunt. you’d never been talked to like this, the crudeness of his words sliced whatever tension there was, and you gave in.

his lips moved down your neck and to your chest as you pant against him, your body pressed into a wall near the hallway that leads to your bedroom and restroom. he pressed against you enough so you could feel the hardening bulge on your thigh and he could feel the softness of your breasts pushed into him. while kissing your neck and shoulder, he moved your hand to feel his hardness while grunting a bit into your skin. 

“you feel what ya do to me? you see how i get for ya?” he asked, and you whimpered a bit feeling how large he really was through his pajama pants. he pulled away from you a bit and looked down at his hand on top of yours, your own hand voluntarily softly massaging his cock. 

“fuck, sweetheart, you know,” he cooed, smoothing your hair down and grabbing the nape of your neck to crane it back, “you know exactly what that pretty face does to me,” 

he tilted your head to look at him, to be close enough to his face to feel his breath on your face. 

“tell me you want me, honey,” he said sweetly, looking between your eyes and your lips. you just kept your eyes on his while he examined you. 

“i, i want you,” you said in a whisper and blushed. joel smiled to himself, another smile you’d never seen, and slid down against your body and grabbed the back of your thighs, urging you to jump and instinctively you did. 

only he made you forget you were three times the size of a skinny woman. 

“joel, wait i’m too heavy for this wait,” you said but he stayed put, didn’t move, didn’t talk. he just stared at you. 

“ain’t no such thing as too heavy, princess, i’ll still pick you up and fuck you stupid,” he assured, playfully tapping your ass as he carried you all the way to your room, laying you on your back. you swore he could feel the pulsing of your cunt against his abdomen. 

he brought you to your room, dark and quiet with the help of your small lamp illuminating your face as he laid you down on your back, falling with you. 

“gonna let me see you, baby? let me see all of this,” he said lowly, crawling to straddle you and put his hands on your tummy, groping and massaging. 

“i-,” you said, out of breath already and joel smirked. he was loving you like this. so dumb and innocent for him. 

“you’re jus’ the sweetest little thing, baby,” he said as his eyes roamed your body. “gotta use your words, baby, let me hear that pretty voice, tell me what you want,” he said again. 

“touch me, anywhere, p-please,” you whimpered out enough and he hummed in satisfaction. 

his fingers creeped up your stomach, leaving a burn with their trail and acted like he was going to help you out of it, but instead he bends down and grips the center of your tank top with two hands and careful to not hurt you, but fast and swift, he rips the weak cloth in half. 

“what, joel oh-” you said and joel’s fingers wrapped around your throat with no pressure, and held you in place as his eyes trailed over your body again, his other hand roughly moved the two halves of your tank to either side. 

“what did he do that you didn’t like, baby?” he asked you as he stayed on top, playing with your breasts by squeezing and pushing them together, only thinking impurely about you. 

you couldn’t think of anything as he felt you up as he pleased, his calloused hands rubbing your smooth skin, tugging and pinching your nipples to watch them harden and extend just for him. 

“just,” 

“he, ugh,” 

he laughs. “can’t even talk while i play with these pretty titties? goin’ dumb already baby?” 

“mmmph,” you couldn’t muster any words. it was a new feeling, feeling lightheaded and only drunk off of joel. 

“please, fuck me,” you whimpered, moving your hands to play with his waistband and try to tug at it. but he stopped you quickly, never letting you even grab a hold of the fabric when he grabs your wrists. 

“need you to tell me exactly what you want, can you do that?” he asked you and you whined, squirming with his hands still locking you in place. 

you looked up at him, his eyes only on yours and his cock straining against his pajama pants. “fingers,” 

it’s all you mustered and he accepted it, moving down a little to move his fingers down into your panties and spreading your legs with his. his fingers immediately felt heat when he spread your cunt and moved down to your hole, teasing and prodding in your arousal. 

“baby’s so wet for me, yeah? you ever thought about me, honey?” he asked you as he looked between you and where his fingers hid in your shorts, waiting for an answer. you were a whimpering mess, soft breaths and pants falling from your lips with every touch. 

“mhm,” you mustered, clenching your eyes shut when his middle finger circled your hole and pushed his palm against your clit, “always wanted you,” 

if you weren’t so dizzy, you probably would’ve scorned yourself for saying that. but he was amused, moving his scruffy cheek to glide against yours and leave kissing on your neck. 

“thought about you too, pretty girl. just so damn cute all the fuckin’ time, couldn’t stop thinkin’ about how you’d look taking my cock,” you whined at his words, trying to shut your legs to stop the pressure but he just shook his head and pried them apart. your hands were tight on his wrist, begging him to let up as he fucks you with two fingers and uses your slick to rub circles over your clit. 

“r-really?” you asked through choked moans, your body lifting up to watch him finger you. he chuckled softly, “yeah, sweetheart. can’t stop thinkin’ about ya,” 

he pauses before taking your shorts and panties off quickly, spreading your legs further and throwing them over his own spread thighs you went back to gripping at your sheets, your body responding to every touch as he spread your cunt even more and spit on it. 

“you want me to fuck this pretty hole, baby?” he asked, watching your slick cover his hand as he curled his fingers inside of you. you were a mess, incoherent, making sounds and guttural noises as he brought you closer to your edge. all you could do was nod erratically and try to close your legs. 

“i’m gonna need you to cum for me then, sweetheart. needa’ see this little cunt cum for me,” he growled, his other hand pulling his pajama pants down, easily taking them off. 

“i, i-,” you choked, your chest tight as you watched him abuse your pussy and watched as his eyes flashed quickly. he managed to lift your lower half up in the air by your ass cheeks, bringing your core to his mouth and pulling you closer to him so he could taste you. 

“daddy,” you moaned as he pulled away with a harsh breath. 

“‘s that right? that’s what you like, baby? want daddy to make you feel real good? go fuckin’ stupid on my cock?” he taunted, his words making your stomach flutter and your clit throb. 

you whimpered a small yes, but you couldn’t think. you’d say yes to anything he offered. you’d take anything he gave you. he didn’t even have to ask, you wanted him to give you anything he wanted. he went back to lapping at your cunt, slurping up any of your juices that ran down your crack, licking at your unused hole that puckered for him. 

it was a new feeling, something no one had done but the way he lapped at both holes made your orgasm build ten times faster, and soon you felt it creeping down your shoulders and sending a cold chill down to your toes. it was blinding, the noises you made were yelps and gasps as if the air had been knocked out of you. 

your entire body shook within his grasp and his mouth never let go of your overstimulated bud, sending more of your juices to leak out of you nonstop. joel wasted no time to lick you all up and manage to strip naked, watching your body go through aftershocks of your orgasm and smiling. 

“pretty girl, such a fuckin’ pretty girl,” he cooed, crawling between your legs again and grabbing you by your waist, flipping you onto tour tummy and chest as he helps you move to steady yourself on your knees. 

“you’d let me do whatever i want to ya, ain’t that right princess?” his voice was like velvet, making you feel warm all over as you pushed your ass into his groin. you whimpered as you felt his hardness against your cunt and you wiggled your hips, making joel laugh a little and slap your ass. 

“so eager too, huh?” all you could do was nod into the pillow, using your forearms to fold under it and hold your head up. the arch in your back was exaggerated, but you wanted him to be able to get the best leverage on you. 

he gripped your hips tight like you were going to leave him, and spread your asscheeks to see both holes shining for him. 

“tell me you want me, can you do that for me?” he asked condescendingly and you hummed, drunk off him grabbing your ass to pull your cheeks apart and watch as they jiggle. 

“i want you,” you muffled, your voice not sounding recognizable. it was hoarse, from moaning and crying and was about to get even more raspy. 

“good girl, you tell me if you want me to stop yeah?” 

“no! please,” you clung onto whatever he was giving you, “i want it, all of it, please,” you cried for him. 

he spits down on your asshole and watches it slip down to your cunt, and he positioned himself at your hole as he keeps your ass spread apart for him. 

“so fuckin’ messy, such a sweet cunt for me,” he moaned as he pushed the head of his cock inside, making you whimper at the small stretch. you didn’t think he could stretch you anymore, until he sunk deeper into your hole and made you start gasping for air. 

“what baby? is it too much? can’t take daddy’s cock?” he taunted behind you as your weak arms went from under the pillow to trying to push his thighs back. unfortunately with your strength, it was no use and only gave him incentive to pin both your arms behind your back, right where your back arched. 

you could feel your drool leaking onto the pillow as he slid slowly into you, not stopping until you felt his balls hit against your cunt. your legs were already trembling from his sheer size, making joel put one hand on the fat of your hip to steady you and one hand on your wrists. 

he started to pull out again, just to slide back in and repeat the movement as he slowly started to speed up the pace. you could hear faint groaning and the sound of your slick gathering on his cock, the wetness being the only noise that was distinct. 

it was pain and pleasure balled into one as he kept gliding in and out of you, feeling your walls tighten and release around him the faster he went. you felt each thrust make your body lurch forward, pushing your face into the pillow as he kept his relentlessness up. 

“oh, baby you feel so fuckin’ good, so good for me,” he groaned. he grabbed both your wrists with his hands and yanked your body up off the mattress so that your breasts are exposed for him. he takes advantage of the space between you and bed, and pulls you even further up to press you against his chest. 

“keep makin’ those pretty sounds for me, makes me wanna ruin this little pussy even more,” he grinned against your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist, and you threw your arms back to grab onto his hair and head. you needed something to balance yourself now that you were standing on your knees, and being fucked into like you weighed absolutely nothing. 

“d-, fuck, i can’t,” you choked through a loud moan, one that made joel grunt as he fucked into you harder. he wasn’t doing small strokes, he was pulling out almost all the way and slamming back into you in a way that sent pain to your cervix, but pressure on your clit begging to be released. 

“can’t what princess? can’t think? i know baby, gettin’ fucked so good you can’t even talk,” he chuckled, moving his hand to grab at your breast and knead your flesh. his hands molded onto your body like they were made to fit you, but all your mind could focus on was the sound of his skin slapping against yours. 

joel knew you were going dumb already, not expecting answers from you as that would just be cruel. he wanted to make you feel good, and the way your spit covered your chin and your mouth fell open but hardly any noise was making its way out, he knew he was doing a damn good job. 

“hear that, baby? such a fuckin’ pretty mess, you like soakin’ my cock like that? so damn wet, so fuckin’ tight,” you couldn’t get enough of his words when he plucked at your nipple, teasing and pinching to get you closer and closer. 

“s-so big, m’ so full,” you cried and he smiled again, holding you closer than ever as he wallowed in your voice. 

“my baby’s full of me, full of my cock,” he repeated, never slowing down as he pulled out just to push all of him back into you at once. he was in love with how you felt, he even felt like he was losing his train of thought at you let out deep moans that made his cock jerk inside of you. 

“‘s okay baby, you look so cute all fucked out like this, can’t even fuckin’ breathe can ya?” he asked and you shook your head no, reminding yourself to unclench your chest so you could let in a good breath. he heard it, and rubbed up your chest to grip your throat, which elicited a harsh whimper. 

his other hand traveled down your body, past your larger stomach and reached down to your cunt. he used the slick between your lips after stuffing them in your mouth and started to rub circles over your nub, making you squirm and wiggle against his body. 

“uhn-uh, thought you liked takin’ my cock like a slut? take it, baby.” you couldn’t even move if you wanted to, wanting to fuck back on his cock and meet his thrusts. you were almost empty headed, words sounding like words but not being able to form them yourself. 

“there you go, take it all baby it’s yours,” he repeated as he watched you grab onto his arm that held you by the neck and let him ravage you like no other. he was the animal, and you were his prey. 

the feeling of his thick cock ramming you, splitting you open while he fingers worked your clit makes you throw your head back on his shoulder and shut your eyes strongly. it was blinding, the pleasure you felt that he inflicted, and you felt yourself clenching your entire body as your orgasm reached its peak. it’s all you focused on. his hands grabbing you everywhere, soaking you in as he pushed your thick body into his chest and managed to lay on his back. he let our body fall onto his and held you up like that, his hands spreading your legs as you tried to sit up on your hands. 

you couldn’t, of course, couldn’t even think about how he changed positions so quickly, or if you were too heavy for him. your body was limp as he held you open, his thrusts becoming harsher and faster as he fucked into you. 

“m gonna, j-joel, gonna cum, gonna cum, m’ gonna cum,” you chanted in a strained whine, one that sounded needy for him. one of his hands lets go of your leg and rests his palm on your forehead, pulling you back to his shoulder so he can kiss along your jaw and neck. 

“cum for me baby, such a dumb fuckin' slut, taking my cock like you were made f’ it,” he was so insulting, so degrading, but the feeling of losing your autonomy so he can fuck you like you deserved made it even sexier for you. you didn’t know your neighbor felt this way for you, that he’d been wanting to feel you and have you like this. it was exhilarating and when you finally let go, when the ringing in your ears started and every muscle in your body tightened just to go slack again, you realized how much you’d been missing. 

you’d never been fucked to the point of silence, nothing but quiet moans and strained breathing falling out of your lips because you couldn’t think, and as joel holds you by wrapping an arm around the thickness of your tummy and letting you close your legs to alleviate the intensity, he whispers nothing but dirty things in your ear. the shaking never stopped, even as joel started to reach his peak. 

“such a pretty girl,”

“love watchin’ you go dumb on my cock,” 

“gonna fill this cunt with my cum, ya want that sweetheart?”

“can’t even talk, such a dirty fuckin’ whore,”

you were mumbling, blabbering, making noises that couldn’t even be registered as noises as his hips slammed against your ass lazily. you feel it the minute he empties inside of you because he holds you even closer than before, stilling your moving hips and you feel the heat of the white ropes that cover your walls. it was so dirty, so messy, so filthy that you wouldn’t be surprised if you were embarrassed after this. you were still mindlessly groaning, humming as your orgasm buzzed through your body and the feeling of his cum trying to push its way out. 

you both lay there, breathless, sticky and with joel still buried inside of you.

“i have… i have to get off,” you breathed out, coming back to the sense of reality. the air in your room felt cold, pricking at your skin like needles. the sweat didn’t help either. 

“no ya don’t,” he said, only to hold you tighter. 

“joel, i’m like crushing you,” you tried to wiggle out of his grasp and he just gave a quick slap to your cunt, making you jolt and still. 

“don’t be ridiculous, ya need me to show you exactly how strong i am or are ya gonna take my word for it?” he warned and you swallowed, blinking at the ceiling before you turn your head to look at the side of his face before he turns his head to look at you. still, the back of your head rested on his shoulder and your legs were between his.

“i can’t even move, joel,” you said in a smile and he laughed, leaning in to kiss your forehead and over your face. 

“i’ll help ya with that.” 

joel proved once again that he was strong enough to pick you up, because he carried you bridal style to the restroom and got a bath ready for you, joining in to help clean you up and massage your muscles. you were dazed, so entirely fucked out that you let him do whatever he needed to do with you to get you into bed. and he didn’t seem to mind, because after taking care of you he got to snuggle in the same bed he made you drool in. 

he let you cuddle into him all you wanted, wrapping your arms and legs around him to bury your face in the shirt he put on. even though it was your bedsheets and your body wash he used, he still smelled like joel. and it was all you needed, ironically the man you longed for to make you feel good was the man who stayed in 6a.

[catsteeth]

The Caged Bird & The Leashed Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 18 ✿:+ Life, Death, and War. 

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Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it. 

CW: MDNI, SMUT, p in v unprotected sex, pregnancy, doggy style, mention of oral, spanking, hair pulling, WAR, character death, labor, mention of forced abortion, NSFW themes, Sandor “my wife” Clegane, misogyny, angst, VIOLENCE, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of death, blood, threats of violence, 

Word Count: 7.3K 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

The days were long preceding the war. Perhaps it was the pregnancy, or perhaps it was the anxiety of the coming war. Most likely the pregnancy. You were mostly confined to your chambers if not seated at the council table to set forth plans of war. A task not many pregnant women have done. Your belly was so swollen you could not see your toes as you looked down. Sleep was a rare thing for you to find, and nothing could satisfy your hunger. Hunger for plum cake, sisters stew, roast goose, and even dirt once or twice. As well as an unsatisfiable hunger for sex, it made you irritable and short tempered. You loathed that you’d have to suffer the discomfort another thirty days. But you would have the Eyrie in less than ten. You would birth in the Eyrie, just as your mother did. Such a bittersweetness. 

You began to feel more and more bonded with the little falcon that grew in your belly. Feeling them kick, and turn, even hiccup in your belly. Sandor tried to be by your side as much as he could. However he was the only man you trusted to ready your men for battle, so he took his position with the greatest seriousness. Though not as serious as he took his position as your husband, and father to your child. Any moment he was given he was bringing you meals of any kind you desired. 

However this afternoon was one where his duties drove him to the training yards. Lord Royce often did your bidding, sending as many ravens as the North had to as many Eastern houses as he could. 

Today, you got a response unlike the others you had gotten. It was from Lady Anya Waynwood. With your growing support against Baelish. Baelish blockaded the Vales resources, sending wheat, grains, fish, meat, and bread only to his supporting households. The smallfolk, and common born people starved with the Highborn houses that supported you. Lady Waynwood was urgently seeking your aid. 

“Mhphm.” You groaned and placed a hand on your belly as you felt a kick in your ribs. “I cannot believe it either.” You mumbled to the babe, before shrugging, “Well actually I can. Still it upsets me so.” You said narrowing your brows as you continuously rubbed your belly, pacing your room. 

You looked over your shoulder as the door to your chambers opened. Your husband hunched down as he entered through the door, too short for his stature. 

You placed the piece of parchment over an open flame, letting it burn away, “He has allowed the small folk of the Vale to starve whilst he feasts.” You said with an annoyance turning towards him. “And I have been asked to assist somehow.” 

“You slept?” He huffed stepping towards you, this scene was all too familiar now.

You looked up at him, “I did.” hardly, but you did sleep. Between the constant tending to the babe and the constant tending to the war that nipped at your heels  you found little time for such luxuries. 

“How long?” He placed a large hand on the back of your neck, halting your steps and guiding you back to your bed. 

“Long enough.” You sighed as you laid back down. You groaned in discomfort as you attempted to make yourself comfortable “Maester said-”

“Maester? You let that old greasy cunt-” He interrupted you, and you interrupted him.

“He knows best. Unless you can tell me how well my child grows in me– I am forced to allow that old greasy cunt to poke around my insides.” The thought did not please Sandor, but he chuckled lowly to himself. You rarely swore without his cock in you. But he always liked it when you did. He removed his boots, muddied from the training yards. You continued your previous remark, “Maester says that the babe strong, says it’s strong and progressing well.” You smiled softly running your fingertips along your stomach. Sandor turned away to remove his clothing. You could not see it, but the corner of his mouth slightly twitched upwards in what some would call a smile. Happy to hear the steady and healthy progression of your babe. Perhaps this one would be different from the one his mother suffered, or yours. 

As his last bit of clothing hit the cold stone floor, he was left in his small clothes. The sight made your hunger for sex rise. “Says it‘s all thanks to their father, strongest man in the seven Kingdoms.” You reached for the hand of your husband. 

As you squeezed it, he gripped firmly onto yours. Turning towards you, and laying in bed beside you. Though only late afternoon, he knew you’d only truly sleep in his presence. The weight of him entering your bed, made your body roll into him. 

He groaned softly, placing his free hand a top your stomach. “Let’s hope that’s all they get from me.” His eyes trailed down to your thighs, made more plump and lovely from your pregnancy. He grabbed hold of your inner thigh, running his hand up and down them.

It was strange. You wanted him, wanted him to touch you this way, wanted him to fuck you good and well enough that you’d not have to think of the war and the discomfort that sat on your bladder. But a bit of you, a large bit, could not allow yourself to feel desirable. Your thighs now had scars, not of battle but from your skin stretching to prepare for your baby. Your body had changed. You grabbed ahold of his hand, “Stop it.” You said with annoyance. 

He knew by your tone, it was not a tone of disgust, or unwilling, but of insecurity. “Never had an issue with it before.” He grumbled, losing his grasp on you and gently rubbing your thigh. 

You shifted uncomfortably, “I didn’t look like this before.” You looked into his deep brown eyes, as they gazed down at you.

He bit his lip, his eyes ravaging your plump form, “I like it.” 

You turned onto your side away from him, “Liar.” you rasped. 

He sighed at your unwillingness to see how beautiful you were. But seeing you in that chemise, he found himself hardening. The thin white fabric covered hardly anything at all. He admired the curves of your body, the new  “That feel like a lie?” He asked, pressing his hardened cock into your ass making him groan, and making you tighten around nothing. He grasped your chin in his large hand, forcing you to turn your head to look at him, “Don’t give a fuck what you look like. I’ll never tire of you.” he rasped into your lips. His tongue darted against your bottom lip. He pulled away from you, and his teeth grazed your ear as he whispered, “Get on top of me.” 

You felt heat rise in your body with his breath against your ear. You reached behind you, your hand roaming his hard stomach, getting closer and closer to his cock but never touching it. You knew just how to innocently tease him, “You always say a man is meant to fuck his woman.” You whispered as his mouth began to roam your neck. 

He sucked onto your sensitive skin, and it made an audible noise when he pulled away from you. “Aye. I’ll be fucking you. I just want to see you. All of you.” He kissed the skin of your shoulder as he pulled your chemise down. 

You turned towards him, “Sandor-“ you whined as you grasped hold of his wrist. 

His motions stopped, he looked at you “You don’t want it?” He was not angry, annoyed, or disappointed, simply wanted to know how to please you best in that moment. 

“I do.” You whispered, still insecure despite the encouragement your husband was eagerly bestowing onto you. 

He took your hand that held his wrist, and intertwined his fingers with yours. “Then let me serve you.”

You looked into his eyes deeply as he pressed his forehead against yours. “My body…” 

“Yes, your body.” He groaned, kissing your lips once more, he kissed you like he were drinking the finest and rarest of wine. As he pulled away he rasped, “That’s the fucking point, it’s yours. That’s all that matters. That it’s yours.” His hands grasped ahold of the pathetically thin fabric of your chemise, 

Your eyes never left his face as he tore it off your body with ease. As your breasts became exposed, his rough calloused hands grasped them without mercy. His mouth sucked onto the tender skin of your neck as his fingers pinched at your sensitive nipples.

He began to grind his clothed throbbing cock into your ass. He grabbed hold of your thigh, lifting it to give his cock better access to your cunt. You could feel the tip of his cock, warm and already leaking for you, pressing against the hot and swollen lips of your cunt. As if his cock were kissing the lips of your cunt. 

“I want it.” You moaned as you arched back into him, his lips still attached to your neck.  “I want it so badly.” You squirmed against his touch, lost in the ecstasy of your heightened sensitivity. 

“I want your cunt in my mouth,” He groaned into the hot flesh of your neck, 

You shook your head, tearing away from his grasp, and turning to face him, “Fuck I want you, Sandor.” You said as you held his face in your hands and tried so hard for your lips to catch his, desperate for any touch he’d give you. “I need you inside of me.” 

He liked to tease you, “Not sure I can give you that yet.” He said with a smirk, “I want to taste my wife first.” He rasped. 

You panted pathetically. You finally pressed your lips into his own, as you inserted two fingers into your own cunt, moaning into his mouth. He watched you in awe as you pulled your fingers out of your cunt, and presented them to him. He took your fingers into his mouth, taking in your taste. “Please,” You whimpered. 

He moaned as you pulled your fingers away from his mouth. “Fuck me,” You whispered sweetly. 

His mouth ravished yours as you practically clawed his underclothes off of his body. He pulled you off of him by your hair, “Get on top of me. I like to see your face when I sink into you.” And so you obeyed. Though you were unsure of how you’d support your weight under your weak knees long enough to ride him. But he’d thought of that, “I’ve got you,” you whispered as his large hands grasped your hips. He took you in for a moment as you straddled him, in awe of your beauty. His cock twitched beneath you as he took you in, you felt it tap at your core for just a second. You smiled at him as you lined his cock up with your wet cunt, “I’ve got you.” He whispered once more. 

You began to lower yourself, pressing his length into you. Your face contorted with pleasure and you threw your head back as you felt him pulsing inside of you. Sandor groaned in pleasure, and he ran his large hand from your throat, to your breasts, then your sides, then finally gripping your ass. “Fucking hells, woman.” He moaned through gritted teeth, his eyes unable to close for even a moment as he watched you bounce on his cock. He gripped onto your ass even harder as you clenched around him. He landed a firm slap against your ass, making you squeeze around him even harder and your eyes widened as you looked at him with surprise. “You liked that before.” 

“Again.” You moaned with a smirk, 

He smirked back at you, “There she is.” he groaned as he spanked you again, making you clench around him again, he hissed through gritted teeth. The pleasure your cunt gave was better than anything. This was sweeter than killing, this was sweeter than any wine or ale, sweeter than any whore he’d paid for. The best thing he’d ever had. 

Also uncontrollably he began to buck up into you, the head of his cock hitting your soft spot deep inside your cunt at an unforgiving speed. He looked up at your sweet face, eyes shut and face contorted from the pleasure, “Say those words again.” SPANK, “You know the ones.” he commanded through gritted teeth.

You opened your eyes, “I love you.” You moaned, “I -Ah!- Love you!” You could hardly speak a full sentence with his speed ever increasing, thrusting in and out of you. 

SPANK, “Again!” he commanded, SPANK, 

Your eyes rolled back, and you smiled as you moaned from the euphoria. “I love you,” you steadied your eyes and looked at him deeply, “Sandor Clegane-“ 

That was his breaking point, he pushed you off of him. You looked confused as he made you stand. 

Sandor walked you over to a chair in the room, but not to sit. No, Sandor began to position you, “Kneel.” Sandor commanded, and you obeyed. Kneeling in front of the cushioned seat. “Hold onto it.” He rasped into your ear as he took a hold of your hair. 

You leaned forward, laying your head against the cushioned seat, and your hands holding onto the arm rests. 

Sandor spread your legs, and you arched your back in response. Taking it a sign of your eager desire, he plunged himself back into you. This time thrusting himself in and out of you even harder, and faster. You now understood why he told you to hold on. 

One hand of his gripped at the plushness of your hip whilst the other kept a firm hold on your hair. His grip would tighten pulling your hair just the right amount. “My woman likes it hard,” he groaned as your cunt tightened around him, “I’ll give it to her hard.” He said with another firm spank. “Because she can fucking take it-“ he moaned, cunt drunk. His hand snaked around your thigh, and found your needy and neglected clit. His fingers toyed with it, pinching and circling it, finding just the right rhythm you needed. 

You moaned out louder and louder, not caring who heard you. 

You felt yourself release only this time it was different, somehow you released so much so quickly it was as if your water had broken. Only you knew it was that. 

The wetness splashed around Sandor cock making a vulgar noise as his cock continued to sink in and out of you. He’d never made a woman release like this before. He’d heard men in the kingsguard, or in brothels and taverns gloat about making a woman do what you’d just done. But he’d always believed they’d lied. 

But fuck, you did it, and for him. 

He hunched over as he felt himself cumming into you, kissing your shoulder in an attempt to mask his pathetic moans. 

“Was that wrong?” You whimpered into the cushion of the chair, too tired to get up. 

Sandor kissed your cheek, and plucked you up from the ground, carrying you to bed. “You’re perfect.” He grumped softly as he laid you into your warm sheets. 

As the both of you laid there. He held you close to his chest. You were nearly asleep when all of the sudden it came to you, 

“I’ve an idea.” You shot up in bed, no longer tired or worn out. “Write to my uncle Edmure Tully. Request his aid in feeding the small folk of the Vale. And Write to each of the largest houses in the Vale, I wish to speak to them in person.” 

Sandor covered his eyes and groaned. Even a good fucking couldn’t put you to sleep. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

But he did as you asked. And so your uncle agreed to aid your cause as it was what honor demanded of him, and with such a great ally in such a seat of power as yourself he would do all he could to ensure your alliance was strong. Edmure sent Tully knights to deliver packages of food to the small folk of the Vale, and the many houses who supported you. All in your name. 

The people of the Vale now only furthered their support of you, and so did the great houses. Most were eager for the feast Lord Royce had created in your name. It was held in Runestone. You tried your best to wear something other than a robe and with Sansa’s sewing you managed to wear a gorgeous blue gown. 

At the table of the feast, you sat at the head of the table. Beside you, your husband, and to your other side, your brother. Lord Royce sat at the other end of the table and seated on either side of the table were heads of some of the largest houses of the Vale. Houses Belmore, Corbray, Egen, Grafton, Heresy, Hunter, Melcolm, Redfort, and Templeton. And of course houses Torrent, Longthorpe, and Borrell of the three sisters. 

You stood, raising a cup towards the heads of the great houses in front of you, “I thank Lord Royce for hosting such a feast in his home, and offering us all guestright. And I thank you all for coming here. I understand it is an uncertain time. And uncertainty can breed mistrust, paranoia, and unsteady judgment. So allow me to set your uncertainties right.” You said graciously, placing your cup down, “I am the Lady of the Vale. The King's command died with him, but my fathers did not. I am heir to the Vale, as declared by the North, Lord Royce, most of the Vales people, and my own brother Robin.” You said looking over to Robin, he smiled and nodded to you. Your voice turned slightly sterner, “I do not need any of your blessings to take these titles; however I understand and respect how long your houses have sat on this land. I want you all to know a war will be fought on these lands.” You said wanting them to know war was coming, and it was time for them to decide where they fell, “You’ve been starved. Smallfolk have been starved. I have brought you food, brought the smallfolk food, not Littlefinger, but I.” You reminded them as they ate the very food that you graced them with, “I ask for you to not forget your oaths.” You finished as you sat in your seat.

You looked around the table, waiting for someone to say something. 

Lady Waynwood stood, “Your rations have fed our people, saved some from death itself. You have come to our side, offering aid in a time of need and without us begging for it.” She raised her cup towards you, “We shall come to yours.” She said with a nod. 

Lord Belmore stood as well raising his cup to you, “Woman or no, you are the blood of Jon Arryn.” 

You looked over to Sandor, exchanging glances at the Lord's thinly veiled prejudice. Then turning your gaze back to the Lord, and smiling with a nod of gratitude, taking any support given. 

“Fuck Littlefinger.” Ser Symond Templeton grumbled as he stood holding a cup towards you, “We’ve not forgotten.” 

Lord Horton Redford stood holding up his cup, “To Lady Arryn, the mother of the Vale!” 

“Nay, the defender of the Vale!” Lord Eon Hunter interjected, as he raised his cup as well. 

And with that each of the Lords at the table stood, cups rose in honor of you. Even Lords Longthorpe, and Borrell of the three sisters stood. You felt for a moment, a wave of relief, Tyrion was wrong. You would not need to send the Hill tribes to do your bidding and perhaps you’d created peace, a new generation of unity by House Arryn and the Three Sisters. Something your father was never interested in doing. 

However, as your own brother stood for you, you looked over to Sandor who was glaring at a man down the table. Lord Torrent, Lord of Little Sister. The man sat not cheering and celebrating like the other Lords and Lady did. He frowned and ate from the food your family gave to him.

“Lords and Ladies.” You said, making them all halt their celebration, “Lord Torrent, clearly has something to say. By all means, my Lord Express it.” You said with a calm and gentle tone. However the grimace on your husband's face set a much more tense feeling in the room. 

The lords all looked towards Lord Torrent, who scoffed as he spoke, refusing to look at you, “I have something on my mind. I speak of this perversion done to this land.” He said angrily, his eyes settled onto you angry and piercing, “Never hand a wench a-” 

“Sword when she has her blood.” You finished his sentence, unafraid of him “I have heard the joke.” You said with dark eyes, your husband beside you clenched his fist. 

“Shut your mouth, you drunken oaf!” Lord Royce demanded, 

“Why should I?” Lord Torrent snapped back at him, 

“The Arryns saved you from the Starks long ago. The rape of the Three Sisters, you swore felty to her house!” Lord Borrell shouted.

Torrent looked towards you, “Your house’ done nothin’ for us.” 

“She’s fed you!” Lady Waynwood attempted to defend you.

Torrent's eyes didn’t leave you, “One meal after a generation.” 

You leaned forward, “Your house sits upon my land, if I find you are unworthy of its soil… I will shake the ground it sits on until the vermin shatter out of it.” Your eyes narrowed.

“You wouldn’t dare-“ Lord Torrent stood, 

“But I have. Did you not hear me? I have dared.” You smirked and nearly hissed at him, 

Lord Torrent, sat reluctantly, huffing to himself like a spoiled child. 

You did not release him from your violent gaze until he let out a final sigh and nodded. Silently agreeing to aid your cause. 

Now you would be able to tell Tyrion you were right, you would not need the aid of anyone to gain the sisters allegiance.  

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You did not relish in such a victory for very long however. You were soon back and seated at the council table in Winterfell.

You stared intensely out the window, unsure of the future and uneasy by the many possibilities of it. “War shall be fought on the marrow. At day break.” You declared. 

Tyrion nodded, “We’ve the support of nearly each house within the Land. The others, though few, remain neutral.” 

You contemplated as you asked, “What is our standing?” 

“We greatly outnumber the pretenders.” Lord Royce said proudly, 

“How great?” You pushed the question further.

“Greatly.” Tyrion said before continuing  “Though we set forth to accomplish a supposed impossible challenge. And one that if accomplished allows for speculation of how invulnerable the Eyrie might be.” He said cautioning you.

You raised an eyebrow at Tyrion, “Though that might be. It is a necessity.”

“But perhaps,” Tyrion attempted to continue, 

“I was right about the hill tribes, Tyrion. Allow me to handle the well being of the Vale.” You said calmly but sternly. Setting him in his place. You then pulled out a scroll of parchment, “I’ve written this. This is the plan of battle you and your men will follow.” You held out the scroll towards your husband but pulled it away before Sandor could grab it, “None of you can open it until you’ve left for battle.” They looked at you with confusion, “The element of surprise is key. If it were to be exposed all would be lost.” Sandor nodded and took the scroll from you. “I shall see you off on the Marrow then.” You said to the rest of the men in the room. 

As you and your husband walked out of the council chambers your brother caught up to you,

“I want to fight. Fight for you, and your child. For my mother. For our father.” Robin said as he walked alongside you.

You nearly rolled your eyes, and smirked at him “You believe you’re cut for it?” you asked, not halting your steps. 

“I know that I am.” Robin said confidently, 

“Or you’re young and arrogant.” You said, not meaning to be mean but meaning to convince him to stay away from the fight.

“Or I’m not.” Robin retorted, 

“Or you are.” The two of you were arguing like brother and sister. It was a new role you played being a sister, but you enjoyed it. You smiled as you placed a hand on his cheek, “You’re the last living male Arryn. It is a heavy burden you hold.” 

Robin felt himself wanting to cling to the nurturing embrace you gave him but he was no longer a child. He sighed, “Your child could be a boy-“

“A Clegane.” You corrected, “As honored as I am to bear it, they will not be an Arryn.” You said knowing your husband was there to hear it.

Robin stepped closer to you, “There is precedence for noble ladies keeping their own name and giving it to their children in order to keep their families line. Whatever child inherits your titles would remain an Arryn.”  

Sick of circling the subject, you said plainly, “I have mourned all the family I can, Robin. Do not challenge me.” You said placing a hand on his cheek once more.

“Do not coddle me like my mother did.” He said removing your hand, and looking at your husband. Sandor, the Hound, a man who was quite clearly the complete opposite of Robin,  “Your husband fights for you, so I shall fight beside him.” He said with a confident and determined nod.

Your steps halted once you reached your chambers. You looked at Robin defeated, “I cannot keep the sword from your hand either?” Robin shook his head, and you sighed  “Fine then.” 

“I will not disappoint you, sister.” Robin vowed with confidence, 

You shook your head, “You couldn’t.” You said with a smile that thinly veiled your worry.

WIth that, Robin smiled somberly and left you as you and your husband entered your shared chambers.

As Sandor closed and locked the door behind you he contemplated speaking his mind on this topic, but did anyway. “He’s not ready.” Sandor said with a sigh, knowing it would be a bad idea. 

You huffed in frustration as you threw your hands up, “He’s nearly a grown man. I cannot stop him Just as I cannot stop you.” 

Sandor stepped closer to you, placing his large hands on your sides. “Someone should be here, with you.” 

You smiled softly as his concern, “I have my cousin. I have the maester, and all the midwives a woman would care to have. Besides, it is too early for laboring.” You ran your hands down his arms, “I don’t want you to fight.” 

He shook his head, placing a hand on your stomach, “I told you I would get you that castle.”

“I release you from that promise.” You said, knowing your words would change nothing.

“I don’t. What husband doesn’t fight for his woman, for his family?” He rasped

You held onto sandors wrist, “You must come back to us.” 

Sandor nodded, knowing he could not promise that he would. 

He looked at your face, wanting to memorize every bit of you. Tomorrow war may take him from you, and he was determined to keep your image with him. He wanted to memorize every bit of you, “Take this off.” He said as his eyes trailed over your body with a lascivious gaze.

You held back a giggle as you smirked, “You want my favor before you go to battle?”

He leaned in closer to you, making you tilt your head, “I want to taste your cunt before I go to battle.” He groaned against you.

“That shall serve nicely as my favor.” You said looking up at Sandor with half lidded eyes. 

You let out a small yelp and squeal as Sandor picked you up and carried you to the bed. He would make sure that night you slept.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Sandor had left you in your bed, naked, and sound asleep. 

He was not going to wake you no matter how many times you told him to wake you before you finally fell asleep. He watched you as long as he could before it was time for him to set off.

He believed you to be in a deep sleep, but without the warmth of your husband you woke.

So you could imagine Sandor’s surprise to see you walking towards him in the courtyard of Winterfell.

“What are you doing?” Sandor asked frustratedly, 

You responded with a matching frustration, “You know what I am doing.” 

He stepped closer to you, “You need to be in bed-” 

“I am staying here, as you have insisted once again. I cannot send men into battle without offering them my words.” You interrupted him, and leaned in closer to him, “I won’t be seen as weak again.” You told him in a whisper. He understood no matter how reluctant he might have been. 

He turned away from you and looked towards the crowds of soldiers that readied to depart for war. “Your Lady has words for you all. So fucking listen!” He shouted. 

You hid your nerves by holding your head high, “Northernmen, you march forth to fight for house Arryn. A house that has meant nothing to any of you for generations. But I have fought for your lands, your lords, and your lives. You now fight for loyalty and honor.” You knew Northerns had much less reason to aid your cause than the Valemen did, so you clung to honor. “Valemen, you march forth to fight for House Arryn. Ancient blood, of an ancient house. You fight for a rightful succession. Though none of it matters really. What matters is that your land is held hostage by a usurper. A man who drove the crown into debt, a man whose success was built upon the foundations of brothels and secrets, a man who has seen no battles, a man who has allowed your families to starve.” The Valemen began to murmur, and shout words of support, “A man who killed your Lord and Lady.” You said somberly, “You fight for liberation of your people.” You said confidently, “You set forth to succeed an impossibility. No one has ever done what we set forth to do. But the Eyrie is weakened without you all. After today, the realm will know our wrath, and will come to fear the color blue.” As you finished the men pointed their swords in the air and they railed in support. 

“Sister.” Robin said sweetly as he approached you,

You placed a hand on his cheek as you said, “Be vigilant, brother.” 

Robin hugged you quickly, too scared to let the other knights see. Once he released you he nodded and took his place on his horse. 

Your attention turned as Sandor took your hand. 

“Wife.” Sandor said, his way of saying goodbye in front of other men. 

You however would not allow him to leave without a bit of you. “My favor.” You said as you handed him a handkerchief that was embroiled with your initials. 

He took the cloth from you, looked at the initials embroidered onto it, “You already gave it-” He said, teasing you.

“Another.” You interrupted him as you took him by his cheek. You and he kissed one last time before he rode off. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Though your armies greatly outnumbered Baelish’s, he held the advantage. The Eyrie held high ground and archers. 

You knew this, and if they did not open their gates willingly, even with climbing spokes it may take a mountain of dead men to climb the walls.

Tens miles out from the battle, Jon, Royce, Sandor, and Robin opened your highly secretive plan. 

Royce looked it over, “She wants us to fake a surrender.” Lord Royce scoffed, “Is she mad?”

“Easy.” Sandor said with hard eyes, warning Royce.

Robin nodded, “We will need to take the Eyrie from the inside.” He said confidently that you knew what you were talking about, “This is the only way inside. She knows we will need an offering of flesh.” He thought for a moment and then said, “I’ll do it.”

“No.” Sandor snapped, knowing if something were to happen to Robin, you would only blame yourself. 

“Yes.” Robin said, making Sandor huffed at him, making Robin’s confidence dwindle, “I-I mean it is only that he would only believe a surrender from an Arryn.” 

“The young Lord is right.” Jon said with reluctance.

Sandor knew he could not stop it, so with a sigh, he continued “I’ll lead the men inside.” 

“We’ll be behind you.” Jon said with a nod.

Royce, though not thrilled with your plan, committed himself, “Our men will use the climbing spokes once you’ve overwhelmed them inside. Then we will open the gates.”

And with that, the plan was in motion. The battle of the Mockingbirds and Falcons began. As your men arrived at the Vale, they hid themselves behind the natural advantages of the landscape. Hiding behind large rocks on the edges of cliffs.

Only allowing Robin to move in. However your men were not far behind.

The arches at the top of the gate aimed as Robin walked towards the Bloody Gate, holding a crude white flag. Robin waved it desperately. 

“The Lady Arryn asks for mercy for her and her child!” Waving a white flag of surrender, Robin fooled Baelish’s commanding knight and several soldiers. 

They opened the gates, the commanding knight stepped out with several soldiers beside him. . The commanding knight looked at the horizon seeing no sign of an ambush, he sent his men out to investigate if they had truly surrendered. Robin bent the knee as he drew his sword and offered it. His distraction allowed for your forces to approach unnoticed. One soldier takes up the sword and inspects it, only for your own arches to ambush the soldiers. Drawing and releasing their arrows killing the commanding knight and the soldiers that accompanied him. This offered some time for Sandor and Jon to rush the gates with their men. 

Sandor and Jon along with their men proceeded to kill all of the approaching soldiers as Sandor made his way closer and closer to the gates of the moon, causing them to send out more men. As the battle continued, the archers were overwhelmed. Lord Royce’s men took it as an opportunity to climb the walls of the gates. Killing all the remaining archers. Royce’s men then opened the gates allowing the Eastern forces to charge in and cut down the remaining soldiers. 

The battle raged on, though Baelish’s forces dwindled quickly once your forces passed the gates. As the Eastern houses fight off the last of the Baelish’s soldiers, Sandor pursues the Eyrie. Cutting down each man in his path. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You looked out your window, waiting impatiently for a raven to arrive with news, any news at all. But all you saw was snow. How terrible you felt watching snow fall, knowing miles away your family fought for you.

As Sansa enters the chamber you began, “I feel like a coddled child by both my Husband, Lord Royce, and somehow SweetRobin of all… Even you.” You looked at her with slight contempt.

“All people who hold fondness for you.” Sansa said coldly as she stepped towards you. “None of us desire to see you or your child harmed.” 

You shook your head softly, “I’d not fight. Gods knows I can hardly see my feet anymore.” You said, making Sansa chuckle softly. “But I am left here, to worry, and pray that those men I entrusted with such plans do not disregard my orders and take their own.” 

“Your husband would not allow it.” She said, and you knew it was true. 

“Left here to worry for who will fall.” You said solemnly. You worried once again that you would leave without your husband, and now you worried for your brother, and your cousin. 

Sansa took your hand, “Then we shall worry together.” 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

As your forces laid a successful siege to the Eyrie, Baelish knew his reign was over. He opened the doors to the Eyrie, stepping out of it he looked at Sandor. “I surrender.” Baelish said with a smug sigh, as if he expected to be untouched if he surrendered willingly. 

He was however wrong. Sandor marched over to Baelish. Sandor pummeled his fist into Baelish’s face. Amazed he didn’t break his jaw on impact, Sandor grabbed hold of him by his throat, 

“I take it you want to crush my skull, break my bones? Is this how Clegane’s define justice?” Baelish attempted to ask as his windpipe was being crushed. 

“Aye.” He said roughly, he relished seeing the fear in his eyes. The eyes of the man who kissed you without your say, the eyes of the man who held you against your will, the eyes of a man who forced you to drink moon tea, the eyes of a man who attempted to marry you off to the Boltons. He knew that he wasn’t his to kill. Sandor let him go, “But that’s not how your Lady defines it.” Sandor turned to the knights around him, “Put him in a cell. Do nothing until my wife takes her place here.” 

“My Lord,” Ser Leon said with some urgency, “It is your brother by law.” 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ 

Sandor and Ser Leon made their way to the gates of the moon. As he arrived he saw many soldiers mortally wounded from the battle. But the one that caught his eye was your brother. Robin lay with an arrow through his chest. 

Sandor looked to the healer that was standing over the boy's body, “The boy is dead.” The young healer said plainly. 

Sandor looked upon the boy, he did not know him well. But when he looked at the boy's face all he could think of was you, and how your heart would break. “Seven fucking hells.” 

“Send a Raven to our Lady.” Ser Leon said to a young squire somberly with a sigh. 

“No.��� Sandor commanded, grabbing the squire by the collar, “Speak nothing of it.” He said with intensity in his eyes. If you were to know, it would be told to your own ears with him by your side.

The squire swallowed nervously, then squeeked, “My Lord-“

Sandor’s grip on the boys collar tightened as he pulled him closer, “If my wife- Your Lady hears of this from a piece of fucking parchment it’ll kill her.” His tone was raspy, dark and deep. 

The squire, though terrified, blurted out, “My Lord, a raven has already been sent.”

Sandor let go of the squire's collar, stepping away for a moment. He knew his time was running thin, he knew this news would break you. If he left now on horseback, and did not stop until he reached Winterfell perhaps he could get there before the raven did. “Give me my fucking horse!” Sandor barked as he turned back to squire.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You and Sansa sat in the council room. Waiting for news, a sign, anything. Just as you did days before. 

The wait was horrid. The uncertainty was worse. You could only hope and pray that you were not a widow. 

What you did not know was that your husband was only a few miles away on a horse charging towards you, and you also did not know that a raven had just arrived. 

As you stared out the window of the chamber, Sansa looked to you. 

“What is it like?” Sansa asked. Looking at your swollen belly. 

“Like carrying a child in your body. A child that kicks at your ribs and makes you sick in the mornings.” You said in a blunt and snarky tone, it made Sansa smile slightly. “It is wonderful.” You said more genuinely as you ran a hand along the side of your belly.

“You carry it well.” Tyrion said as he and a guard entered the room,

Sansa helped you as you stood from your seat, walking towards the council table, “Has there been any word?” You asked with furrowed brows, desperate for any knowledge. 

Tyrion and the Guard looked pensive as the Guard began to speak. “My Lady, the Eyrie has been taken in your name. Littlefinger was taken alive, he is being held as a prisoner awaiting your judgment in the Eyrie.” Sansa breathed a sigh of relief for you as she grabbed hold of your hand. You looked to her, in disbelief as a wave of relief washed over you, “My Lady, there is more.” You looked back at the guard with terror in your eyes, not wishing to hear the words you knew you were about to hear.  “Your half brother Robin Arryn was struck down by an arrow-“ Your knees felt weak as the guard continued to talk, “whilst your armies laid siege.” 

You grasped your throat, and felt yourself become breathless. “Are you alright?” Sansa asked you, placing a hand onto your back,

You ignored her question, “What of his condition?” Your voice was strained as a pain in your back began.

The man paused briefly, unsure of how to phrase his words best, “He is dead, my Lady.” the man said softly.

Your tears came, you grasped onto the table and hunched over in pain as the pain grew and grew, “Fuck,” You hissed exasperated through your tears. You grasped onto your stomach as you felt a warm liquid trickling down your leg, “The babe, the babe is coming.”

Tyrion stepped closer to you, concerned, “Are you certain? It is too soon.” 

“Fuck!” You struggled to say the words as your water broke, falling onto the floor. 

Sansa tried to take hold of you, to prevent your knees from buckling and falling to the floor. 

Tyrion turned to the guard and shouted, “Get the Maester, and as many midwives as Winterfell has!” 

꒰ ୨୧ ─

Once Sandor reached the Gates of Winterfell his horse was near death from exhaustion. He looked to the Guards at the top of the gates.

“Open the fucking gates!” Sandor barked, 

The guards knew who he was immediately. A man like the hound is not one that you would ever forget. 

As the gates opened Sandor grabbed a hold of the nearest guard, 

“My Lord-” The guard nearly squeeked, 

“Where is my wife?” Sandor growled, 

The guard, frightened, began “S-she has begun her labors, my Lord.” 

Sandor felt his heart drop to his stomach, and his stomach drop to his feet. He didn’t know this feeling very well, was it excitement? Fear? He did not know. 

“How long?” Sandor questioned. 

The man shook his head, “Not even an hour, my Lord… She began when she heard of her brother's death.” 

Sandor groaned, angry that he was not faster, “Fucking hells, bring me to her, NOW!” 

NOTE:

HI- i’m literally so sorry this took so long. if you girls knew what was going on in my life….. omg. anyways please enjoy !!! again i’m so sorry lol. but that isn’t stopping me from blue balling yall with the baby AND Baelish getting canned.

K love you, xoxo

Bambi

Support or Request > ♥️♥️♥️

Beloved Tags: 

@dontfollowjuststuff @merfic @broadsdrinkwhisky  @vikingswhore0

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[eccentricallygothic]

|| Coach ||

Pairing: Dark!Pedri Gonzalez | You.

Description: What happens when the boy you used to ignore in middle school becomes an international footballer while you are so broke that you cannot even afford to learn football; a mutual passion, but the boy -still very much enamored by you- reconnects with you and even offers to give you private lessons? 

Warning(s): Noncon/Dubcon, Pedri is a manipulative asshole, humiliation, thigh riding, pinching, dumbification, infantilization, boob play, inspection kink, slight choking, allusions to stalking, helplessness on your part, unprotected p-in-v, spanking, overstimulation, creampie, hair pulling, biting.

Disclaimer: This story does not represent Pedro Gonzalez in any way. It contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact. 

Note: For everyone who was waiting, thank you for being patient. Ps, this is what happens when I write while I am in subspace. 

.

Today was one of those days. 

You had been at this for long enough to know it. 

Whenever Pedri walked into the ground with that one glint in his eye and with his jaw set in a certain position, you knew it. 

It had been shocking for you at first.

Hard. 

But you were used to it now.

Numb.

So you weren't even surprised when he got down to his bullshit. 

“You know, bebé” you loathed the pet name. It made you feel dumb, helpless and clueless. But that was exactly what you were. And had been. “I say we exercise more today than play” same old excuse. “This one–”

“Will increase the agility and endurance of my thighs” you completed for him, jaw stiff. 

He had already manspread on the only bench in the football ground he had rented out just for you to train and play in. Pedri's eyes were crinkled as he peeked up at you through the sun by tilting his head back and in the shade of the tree behind him to shield himself from the orange light. His arms lazily rested against the backrest. 

“Such a fast little learner, aren't you, bebé?” You wanted to smack the smirk off his face. 

You had told him not to call you the hideous name many times. But he insisted that since you were a baby to the pitch, it was the only appropriate name for you on there. 

Once when you got too agitated he proposed that if you managed to score against him, he'd stop… And obviously you were not someone who could score against FC Barcelona's Pedri. 

“Only because I have a good teacher” you resigned yourself to your fate and abandoned the ball before you walked over to where he was, lifting the too high for comfort skort that you wore before you climbed onto his sculpted thigh. This piece was one of the many he had gotten you for the free football training that he gave you. 

And you would have been grateful if it weren't for them making you look like a sports themed porn video model than someone actually learning football.

“Aw baby” you backed up a little when he booped your nose appreciatively. His sweet and ‘easy going' demeanor was the worst part. It was meant to make you feel like he was a generous friend doing you a favor for free when he could be doing many other more rewarding things with his precious time. That you being hostile in return made you look like you were the bad one. “Aren't you the sweetest little student one could have?” 

He was the absolute worst. 

“Only for you, coach” you replied as you adjusted yourself against the muscles of his thighs by rocking your hips until your covered pussy was spread. You had no choice but to be sweet and compliant. 

Or he refused to teach you. 

And football -even though it was too late for you to make a career out of it, not that you had the money or skill for even the prerequisites- was all you had in your shitty little life. 

It muted the world out for the time you were on the pitch. 

So much so that you could even endure the lewd ‘grazes’ and infuriating ‘tackles’ Pedri guised as guidance. 

“Go on, then” his strength and unexpected touch always gave you a sensory shock. So you flinched when he patted the side of your thigh. “We don't want your body to get cold now, come on. Get to it while it's still warm” you nodded as you took in a deep breath and prepared yourself.

You bit your bottom lip to withstand the shame and burst of shivers that your pussy's grazing against his strong thigh caused. Placing your hands on your laps, you looked down at him and he lazily stared back at you with a smile, the mop of his thick, dark hair sticking to his forehead in some spots due to the sweat beads that had gathered there. 

“Feels good, doesn't it, bebé?” He had taught you obedience in a truly cynical way. Good things come to good girls. 

Though Pedri was evil, he was not particularly deceitful. “Y- Yes, coach” if you just granted him his depraved wishes he was actually very benevolent. 

“Good girl, keep working those pretty legs” his rough hands now stroked and fondled your thighs that flexed everytime you dragged yourself so far up, your tender bud pressed into his hard skin before you moved your intimates down to your entrance that was already starting to tingle. “Look at how caring and nice your coach is, huh, bebé?” You nodded as you tried to keep your voice, that had betrayed you on one too many occasions, tightly locked in your throat. 

He didn't prefer to overtly pressurize or force you. At least, you didn't think so. No, Pedri liked you submitting to him despite not wanting to do so better. It got his sick shit going. 

“Tsk, tsk. Use those words now, hm?” You could feel your pussy lips squishing as each rub burnt more and more heat into your cunt. “I want to hear that pretty voice” because it will break or you will moan and he will win. 

Pedri loved to rub your nose into the helplessness of your condition. 

Just like back in middle school.

When he would follow you around and you, the beauty and brains amongst the students of the whole institution would not give him so much as a considering glance. Which would cause some of your friends to even make fun of him. 

Of course, your coach would never outwardly admit it because of both his savior complex and the petty I am the bigger person agenda that he had been pushing since day one, you just knew it.

You could literally hear the ‘not so high and mighty now, are you?’, in his voice sometimes. 

You had sped up a considerable bit into a swift and steady pace. Your lips had slackened and your mouth had fallen open. “Y- Yes, Pedri-iii–!” The upper half of your body toppled against his since you hadn't been holding anything for support. 

You hated how that was not enough for you to cease your animalistic panting as you continued to hump his thigh, your forehead now resting against Pedri's as your sports cap pushed upwards. 

“It's okay, bebé” his eyes were darker than they had been before. One of his hands caressed your ass comfortingly. “You can hold onto coach. After all, support and guidance are what teachers are for, no?” You pathetically tried to hold a semblance of your ground as you rubbed your pussy closer and closer to the kind of edge only Pedri could push you from, not that you liked to acknowledge it. 

But you only collapsed against him again after you had lifted yourself up halfway without leaning against him. Your spine trembled from the sensitivity and he chuckled, the reverberations causing for short stabbing waves of pleasure to travel up your cunt which was sopping by now. 

Taking a deep breath of defeat, you placed your smaller hands on his strong shoulders and managed to push yourself back up with ease this time. 

“See, bebé? That wasn't so hard now, was it?” Your seeping pussy hole clenched when you felt his manly fingers creep in and up the material of your skorts. “All you had to do was listen to coach like a good little girl” then his relaxed jaw tightened and a muscle ticked as he collected a pinchful of your buttcheek between his index finger and thumb before pressing them together in a punishing manner. 

That was the way he preferred; the silent way. Where he would not use words that could be remembered vividly and misinterpreted in all the ways. No. Because you see, he was not the bad guy here. So he would both express his disappointment and push his desires forth like a cruel and slithering snake. 

Silently and devastatingly.

“Y- Yes, coach!” You cried out from the pain and the pleasure it caused by flipping your stomach into a puddle of fiery wantonness that travelled right down to your pussy before spreading over your folds. 

“Such a good girl” you were getting close, which meant you were about to get a whole lot more stupid than you already were. “Come here and show your coach some appreciation” his free hand -the one that wasn't groping your ass- wrapped around your neck before he pulled you down and hoisted himself up with ease to press his lips against yours. 

“Thank you so much, coach. You're so patient and kind with me” you parroted out the words you had been taught through cruel blackmailing. Your voice was humiliating in how it broke and you gasped and moaned through your words, the effort you put into suppressing it all only making you sound like you were on the verge of tears with need. 

“Don't sell yourself short, bebé, you're not exactly a bad student either” he let go of your throat to retreat his hand by dragging it down your chest and letting it linger and move over your covered boobs. “We haven't done an inspection in some time, have we, bebé?” He had been rather busy lately, so no. 

Your heart fell but your pussy fired up even more. “N- No, coach” you kept using the honourific because you knew he liked it when you did. 

Pedri had an inspection segment in your training. Where he would check and measure the quality of your health and wellbeing every few sessions. 

That required you stripping down to nothing and tying your hair on the top of your head and out of his way. Then he would make you stand with your body spread out in a star position before he would examine, touch and grope every bump, surface and crevice of your body to make sure nothing was wrong. He would squeeze you in places and asked you how much it hurt on a scale of one to ten to check for muscle damage. Next you would have to touch your toes while spreading your legs wide. Pedri would part your ass cheeks and ask you to cough. If you tried questioning it, you were told that athelete hygiene and wellbeing was complex and he was the professional, which was basically a shut the fuck up call. The threatening edge of his tone also quietened you before you could build up more courage. Then you would have to prop your back against the bench and hold your legs apart and out of his way in that your buckled knees had to touch your shoulders. All you had to do was to focus on his dark hair as he peeled open your pussy lips and examined you there. After that you were to ‘air’ yourself out because he said it was good for your skin after all the sweating. That was to be done while increasing the durability of your muscles. So you would be placed in the middle of the field -the point where the wind was the strongest- with your head earth cast and limbs spread out while you held yourself up on all fours. On warm days Pedri would even generously pour water all over your kneeling form to make you feel fresh. 

Because he was a caring coach. 

Whether you had ever been teased for leaking while he went about that business, if you ever came from being pulled apart so intimately, and if the aforementioned things had happened, the number of times they happened, you were not willing to disclose to anyone. 

Perhaps not even your own self. 

“Let's just air out today” he decided as he glanced at the pinking sun. Evenings were what you two could mutually manage so that's when you did this. And it would be dark soon so you didn't have a lot of time left. You felt like screaming at him. It wouldn't be him if he ever spoke straight.

Always with the twisting and manipulating. 

“Yes, coach~” you moaned out as you whimpered from how Pedri was moving you up and down his thigh with the help of his firm grip on your ass. You took one of your hands off his shoulder to fiddle with your skimpy sports bra before you gave up somehow getting rid of it and instead pulled it down to bring your tits spilling out towards the male's face. The tightness of the bra’s neckline only made them push upwards more, the movement of your cunt fucking against his lap making them jiggle. 

“May I inspect them, bebé?” It was a bloody insult to injury. He always asked shit like this like you had a choice. 

And yet the rage added to the tightness in your hips. 

You were on the brink.

“O- Of course, coa– coach!” You hadn't noticed just how sensitive they had become until he reached for one of your hardened nipples and your back arched from the sting it caused. 

“Not to be unprofessional, bebé, but you are truly the prettiest girl I've ever seen” you reckoned this compliment coming from an international football star, especially a male one, would send any girl over the moon. You were no exception. If only said football star hadn't been the middle school loser you used to ignore and now had to submit to like this only because he made accessible for you the one thing that helped you to keep going.  

All it took for your pathetic self to cum the daylights out of itself was for him to circle the shape of your hard nipples and squeeze your other breast before he pressed a wet kiss to each of your nubs. 

Your ears went numb and the all too familiar feeling of sweet and hot spilling of your loins exploded between your hips. You threw your head back and moaned his name out loud while you rode out your high. 

Since your heart was in your ears and you became physically incapable of fathoming anything other than the pleasure burning your body up and threatening to well out of all your openings -and out of one of them it actually did- you didn't notice him chuckling at you until after your high had subsided. 

You tilted your head to the side before you furrowed your eyebrows to express your confusion. 

“Such a naughty little girl you are, bebé” if it weren't for your post-orgam sensitivity, your jaw would have ticked. But you were panting too much to do anything than to sit on his lap soiled by your own cum and staring at him dumbly. “All I had meant to do was to work up your pretty little legs but you being you just had to be the messy little baby that you are” you felt a glaze of tears well up in your eyes. 

In-fucking-sufferable. 

“Okay, we don't have long now, come on” he switched back into his professional voice and patted your covered up messy pussy with the back of his fingers. “Show me some of the dribbling I taught you in the last session and we will call it a day” you wanted to cry out loud.

This was a downwards spiral of the most depraved sort. 

“Yes, coach” he tried his best to hide his devilish grin but you knew what was about to happen; where this command was gonna take you. 

You gingerly climbed off of Pedri and adjusted your skirt like he didn't know every centimeter of your body already, blinking your eyes to keep your vision from spinning and trying to tough the shaking of your legs out. 

That was how his making you cum always left you. 

“Leave those like that” he referred to your tits when you tried to adjust your bra while bringing the ball closer to him. “We haven't done inspection in a while so we will compensate how we can” yeah right. 

“Yes, coach” you obediently responded before you took a stabilizing breath and focused on the ball before you got to it. 

And exactly as you had expected, your weakened legs buckled and your body tumbled before your ass hit the ground with a thump. Your heart rate picked up again as you nervously scrambled yourself up. You could feel the intensity of his dark stare and it was making you admittedly nervous. Oh, no. Yet your pussy curled at the thought of him getting pissed because of you. Fuck. You gulped and set the ball before you started again but it slipped from under your foot and you nearly hit the ground face first. Pedri didn't say anything, he only spoke out of necessity. Your bottom lip wobbled as you adjusted the brim of your cap and recentered the ball. Under usual circumstances, Pedri would have given you some guidance or reassurance by now. He actually did teach you good football on days when he wasn't possessed by Incubus himself. You started again and thought it would be different this time, that you had got it, and that it would be soon over now like he had promised. 

But you never seemed to learn that hope was a foolish thing. 

Your thighs trembled and the muscles inside them twitched. Before you could even register what was going on, you had landed in front of Pedri's feet on your hands and knees. A stifled sob left you. 

He sighed. “I wonder why your endurance hasn't increased even a little from when we did this the last time” which was 2 months ago. “The exercise I recommended for it was sure to work…” Your head further lowered in shame like you were in the wrong. 

“That's ‘cause I haven't been doing it, coach” your cheeks and eyes burnt alike in humiliation. Thick drops of hot tears thumped on the grass in front of you. 

“Oh, really? Why not?” He feigned innocence like he didn't know that you hadn't been doing it.

You remained at his feet because you knew that's how he liked you to be, deep down. And you didn't feel like disappointing him even more than you probably already had. 

“J- Just…” You did not even dare to let your mind wander to how he even knew that you hadn't been doing. “Just…” You chose ignorance. It was bliss. Life was hard enough and you could not afford this right now. 

Pedri sighed as if he was actually unhappy about what was about to happen. “You know what has to happen now, don't you?” You nodded, utterly defeated as you slowly rose to your wobbly feet and began to trudge yourself to the middle of the field, relieving yourself of your clothing as you went by, taking off and dropping each article behind you while you walked. 

You collapsed on your knees in the middle of the field and propped yourself ass up on your hands and knees, widening your legs for him to see and access your cunt better. 

“You know I hate to do this but you just have to forget things like the silly little baby that you are, don't you?” You feel his knees touch against yours as he kneels behind you. One of his rough hands grab you by the hip to keep you in place whilst the other holds his rock hard cock over the smooth surface of your ass. 

“Y- Yes, coach. I am sorry–” your voice disappears when he suddenly taps his leaking tip against your pucker and you nearly have a panic attack. Though you don't hear it you feel his body vibrate behind you and you know he's laughing at you, your panic, your helplessness, your humiliation. “... C- Coach” you finish breathlessly when he prods your wrinkled up pucker with his tip but then drags it down the dent and between the hot cavern past your pussy lips. 

“Well, you know what I say,” the fat apex of his thick cock glides a little before it finds an opening and pushes itself between your folds to kiss your pussy hole that blinks in response. “A good girl's one who owns her mistakes.”

“Yes, coach– hnnng!” Your back arches when he enters you with a jerk, the mess you made in your panties couples with the precum coating his tip aiding the penetration. 

The task that had landed you in this situation was that every night before bed you were to get in this same position that you were in right now and stay like that for some 15 minutes before you were to rub -and strictly only rub- your pussy -because Pedri insisted that it was just as much a muscle as any other in your body- until you were so close you felt the initial heat of your orgasm before stopping. Then you were to continue being in the same position with your head lowered to watch how your legs were doing for another 15. 

This was to build the endurance levels of all your muscles as well as develop in you a restraint and discipline all football players were required to have. 

Usually he made the edging worth your while soon after but as mentioned before, he had been busy and so you were left with nothing but the frustration. 

So you had stopped. 

As to why you couldn't just let yourself go and cum by yourself, it was because you were incapable of doing so. 

Unless he was actually there with you, your body would either refuse itself orgasms or ruin them for you. 

Only Pedri could make them make sense.

“Tell me, bebé,” his mask only slipped when you were like this. He would say things and touch you in ways that betrayed his little charade. “Did you purposefully disobey coach like a bad little baby because you like him breaking in your beautiful muscles?” Yes, that is what he had termed this.  

Breaking in of your muscles.

And you.

Your sensitive pussy was being overworked as the burn of overstimulation overwhelmed you with each resounding thrust. Pedri had found a pace and the upper half of your body had collapsed against your folded arms. Your cheek rubbed against it with each thrust as you involuntarily moaned out loud, watching the stretch of the field aimlessly. 

Pedri snorts as he breathes heavily, snapping his hips harder and harder as he continues to fuck deeper and deeper into you. “I always forget that your brain is also a muscle so it breaks each time I've to help you out like this” you can only croak in response as you feel another orgasm building. He tries to get your attention attention again but you can only let out wanton moans and grunts. “Hey!” And so it comes; his hand cutting through the air before it loudly cracks against your ass. 

“Huh!” You snap out of the haze of your euphoria only to jump again because another one lands on your other cheek. You were barely even following him so you squeak out, “Yes, coach! You're right, coach!” He chuckles. 

“The sweetest little thing, aren't you, bebé?” Just then his cock hits you where you are sensitive while he lands a spank on your pucker at the same time and you cry out, toppling over the edge as your vision declines and hearing follows its suit. 

Your body shakes with spasms as you clutch the grass to withstand the pounding he's giving to your g-spot. It is too much for you when his hot cum begins to fill you up and the air fills with the lewd sound of his cock slopping in and out of you while specks go flying all about. 

“Come here” he growls as he pulls you back up against his chest by your hair so you bounce upwards with each thrust he gives you while he fucks his high up your sensitive womb. Pedri wraps his arm around your neck so you're in a headlock and his lips and teeth attack the side of your face that is in his reach. He kisses, he licks, he sucks and he bites to withstand the pleasure that his cock feels in the hot enclosure of your tight little cunt. 

Pedri even slips his fingers between your legs to rub your folds only to make you cry out just a bit louder.

It takes you both a bit to fully calm down but when he pulls you off his cock with a loud and humiliating squelch before putting your nude form against the ground to fix himself before sitting down beside you and gently pulling you into his lap to calm you down, he sweetly rubs your muscles as you weakly rest your head in the crook of his neck.

“Here” he picks up something from beside him before handing you it and you cannot help but tear up. 

You had lost one of your air pods a week ago and hadn't been able to afford a fix or substitute. How he knew this, as you hadn't seen him in a while, was beyond you. But as you saw the brand new boxed up set, hot tears spilled down your cheeks and you only shook your head in a you didn't have to fashion since you were too messed up for words. 

You threw your arms around him in the way he liked and kissed his cheek as you let your breasts press into his chest. He just chuckled and patted your head like a father would his child's. You bit back your sob as you let yourself surrender. 

It wasn't because you were touched that you were crying, no. 

It was because you knew. 

This was the peak of his craft. 

He had begun reeling you in already so he could destroy you again whenever he pleased later. 

Building you up to break you pretty for himself. 

And then reassemble you in the fashion of his preference only for the same cycle to continue. 

Maybe he was right. You were pathetic and you liked this more than you would ever admit.

After all, you came everytime and anytime he wanted you to… didn't you?

[coryosbaby]

Camera Ready ✧･ﾟ: Finnick Odair x reader

Summary: Neither of you really care if anyone sees.

Warning: exhibitism, voyeurism, p n v, riding, they fuck in the arena while it’s being televised, spit kink, size kink, creampie, switch ! Finnick, switch! Reader

⭒

“You know you could walk a little slower, sweetness. ”

Finnick’s voice blares out teasingly into the morning air as he trails behind you. Your hair sticks to your forehead in sweaty strands, your body on high alert as you make sure to scope out any remaining candidates that aren’t on your side. Which isn’t much, considering you have Katniss and the others, but it’s still a good idea to be cautious. To your relief you had found Finnick in the woods last night. And as much of a victor as you are, the dark makes you nervous. So he had allowed you to sleep beside him, curled up with his arms wrapped around you. It wasn’t intentional, of course, but when he sleeps it seems that he tends to get handsy. And when the warmth of his body was beside you, you couldn’t resist letting him throw you into his embrace.

“Maybe you could walk a little faster, pretty boy.”

He chuckles at the nickname, his pace finally catching up with you so you can see the cocky smile on his face.

“You think I’m pretty?”

Your friendship is like this, a lot. Flirtation, playful banter, and a few hook ups every now and then since the two of you met at a capital event one year. And now, even when you’re supposed to be enemies, you’re working together. It’s just a connection, an order that makes you both flow freely with each other and get the things you desire.

You ignore the way Finnick’s hands ignite flames on your skin and the way his smile makes your heart flourish. You also ignore the way you feel the constant need to protect him and keep him alive. In this game, you can’t have anything serious.

“Mm..” you reply. “Sometimes.”

Your hands wrap around his neck as you pull him to you. He smiles, that pretty crooked smile, and presses a kiss to your temple.

And then, you hear a snap.

You and Finnick are both on high alert then, and turning around you’re both faced with a victor. Not an ally, it seems, as she’s pointing a knife at the both of you.

It doesn’t take long before she’s dead, but it’s still a bother to you. You don’t like murdering these people, and you’ve never liked the whole idea or subject of the hunger games. The first time you had won, but at what cost when they’ve sent you right back in?

It’s kill or be killed. And as the woman’s blood splatters on your face, you sense that familiar feeling of rage from the first time you killed creeping back into your psyche. That rage that loathes the capital, loathes those stupid fucking districts as they fall into the ground. And your knife doesn’t stop the assault on her as you make sure she’s dead. It’s better, this way, to overdo it so they don’t have to suffer. Finnick is surprised at your strength and skill, he always has been, but he finds it best not to bring it to attention.

As you two walk away, the woods begins to clear. And then you both watch as you see the Arena come into view, dark and blood soaked.

“Great,” you mutter. “More to show the people.”

It’s obvious that everything is being recorded, but this is the most clear spot. As you sit down on one of the rock formations, your lean back to watch the clouds and the orange sunset. Finnick sits beside you, his neck and chest splattered with blood. And after a moment, you begin to speak.

“I don’t like doing this.” You state. “It’s all bullshit. It’s psychotic.”

Finnick nods in agreement, his jaw clenched as he watches the stains on your shirt.

“We should give them a show.” He says. “Do something that we know they can’t get away from.”

And that’s when you get the idea.

You look at him, a mere glance. You’re both probably sweaty and disgusting, but even now Finnick looks absolutely god like. You know he’s chiseled, under that gray suit. And you know what big thing lies underneath the crotch of his underwear.

You smile, your hand coming to rest gently on his muscled thigh. His eyebrows furrow in confusion, as he watches your palm begin to move up more.

“What are you doing?” He asks. He doesn’t seem completely against the idea, though. Because then that cocky smirk you know so good and well is plastered onto his face, his hands finding there way to the exposed skin of your shoulder. He leans over and kisses your collarbone, gently. You huff, your lips moving to graze the spot below his ear.

“If they want them a show, let’s give them a show.”

Seeming to be on the same page, Finnick crashes his lips into yours in a bruising kiss.

Meanwhile, at the capital, the monitors in the room begin to awkwardly watch as you push Finnick down onto the rocky arm. His back hits the floor with a grunt, and then he’s watching as you sit up and unzip the back of your suit. He groans when your tits are revealed to them, full and sitting in all their glory. He brings his hands up and gropes one in his hand, feels the soft skin and your pert nipples being brought to attention. You tut when he tries to move his fingers down to your pussy.

“No, Finn.” You coo. Your nails scratch his addam’s apple, and he flushes as you begin to climb on top of him. “No touching there until I say.”

He groans when you press down against his growing bulge.

“You know if we don’t hurry we could die, right?” He huffs.

“I don’t want to hear excuses, baby. We both know fucking me again is the last thing you want to do before you go.”

He can’t deny that, and as you demand that he lift himself up and unzip his suit down to his thighs, he follows your directions with desperation. You watch as you pull his briefs down below his balls, watch as his girthy length springs to full attention. He moans when your hand connects to his skin, and begins to jerk him off with vigor. You can feel a tension in the air, the feeling of being watched extremely prominent. And it shouldn’t get you so wet, but it does. So you bring yourself to eye level with Finnick’s cock, and spit down on him, quick to shove his tip into the warm confines of your mouth. He makes a deep sound in his throat, and you move away teasingly when his hips try and move his cock farther into your throat.

“C’mon, sugar.” He says, overwhelmed. “Don’t be mean.”

“Why don’t you just shut up and do what I say, Odair?” You demand. You slap his cock, and he groans, legs beginning to tremble at the pain and pleasure mixing. “Besides, I’m not letting you use my mouth right now. I just needed to get you wet.”

He whines in protest when you pull away from him. But then you’re pushing your suit down, past your calfs and onto the ground.

So help you, if you’re going to die it’s going to be like this.

When your pussy is revealed to him, Finnick’s cock jumps and he sits up to guide you to his lap. He’s warm, his cock drooling and messy. You don’t hesitate to rub his tip against your clit, your thighs holding his lean body down.

“Please, y/n, fuck!” Finnick stutters, the feeling of your wet silky cunt making him go crazy.

You smile as you finally guide him to your entrance, and sink down. His cock fills you up to impossible levels, his balls pressed flush against you when he finally bottoms out. His hands go to your waist, and when you bounce on him, his eyes roll back and he cries out like a bitch in heat.

“Jesus Christ.. you feel so fuckin’ good, angel. Love your pussy so much.”

“I know, sweet boy.” You moan when he grazes a soft spot inside you. “It f-feels good, doesn’t it? My little pussy feel good around that big cock?”

“God, yes. Cmon, ride me harder, momma. I know you can.”

And when you begin to fuck him faster, he brings his hands down to your ass, and begins bucking up into you with a feral pace. Your arousal makes him keen, makes his brain turn to mush the moment your scent hits him. You look so beautiful, so flushed and perfect, and something snaps inside of Finnick, then. His fingers spread your cheeks apart, and his voice is raw.

“Bet you like this, huh? The whole capital watching you get fuckin’ destroyed by my big cock? Hm?”

You gasp at his words, your fingers clawing at his chest.

“Finn, baby, fuck!”

“You love it, don’t you?”

No reply. Finnick slaps your ass harshly, and you yelp at the sting. His hands grab your throat in a harsh grip.

“Answer me!” He demands. You cry out, trying to nod the best you can, and then uttering out a “Yes! Yes sir!” As his large hands cut off your air supply.

“That’s my fuckin girl.” He replies. His fingers rub your clit, leaving your throat as you gasp for air and your orgasm washes over you. Your pussy gushes all over him, soaking his cock and balls and the rock below the both of you, and without warning Finnick is grabbing your hips with his large hands and turning you over so you’re beneath him. It’s quick, and you’re incredibly surprised. You wrap your legs around him as he begins to pummel you, now with more leverage and strength, and his cock feels like it’s destroying you from the inside out. You don’t complain, though. And when Finnick’s hips begin stuttering, you know he’s about to cum.

“C’mon, baby, cum inside me, cum in my pussy!”

Your words spur him on, makes him leave bruising marks on your wrists as he holds them above your head and begins to cum in thick, messy ropes. Your walls practically milk him of everything he’s got, and when he’s done you can feel the stickiness of his seed dripping off his cock and onto your thighs.

He buries his face in your neck, then. And with a small laugh, he pulls himself out and begins to lick his cum out of you. Your middle finger comes up into the air as he does it. A sign, as the victor from district 4 eats your pussy. A big ‘fuck you’ to the capital.

The cameramen and people at home watch in shock and awe. There’s a debate of whether or not they should turn it off, and after a while everyone becomes too distracted by the images on screen to worry about it. The next day, none of the other tributes look at you both the same.

Because at that time, they had been watching, too.

@emsbookcase

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 16: You Gotta Do What You Gotta Do

You and Joel look for Anna and find a new balance in your relationship. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 15, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: SMUT! Unprotected P in V sex. Discussion of drug use and addiction. Mention of parent death Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 10.6k

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter

“You’re sure this is a good idea?” 

You kept your voice low, watching as Joel swayed slowly with Ellie cradled in his arms. 

“She’ll be fine,” he said quietly. “C’mon. Would I do anything that would put this sweet little thing in harm’s way?” 

You sighed, Joel already ignoring you in favor of your niece. Not that you could blame him. In the two months that you’d been basically living with Joel, Ellie had blossomed. She still had her crying jags and was far from an easy baby - from what you could tell, anyway. But she was eating steadily now that you’d found a formula that didn’t upset her stomach so much and sleeping for three hours at a time overnight. She’d gone from being underweight to having charming rolls of baby fat on her arms and legs and she had this tendency to watch whoever was holding her with an intensity that felt uncommon for a baby. You were sure you were biased but you were certain that she was the smartest baby you’d ever seen. Her gaze was keen as she took everything in, her eyes shifting to a deep, rich chocolate brown and it was hard to not just look at her all the time. 

“I’d never let anything happen to you, would I?” Joel said to Ellie, his voice high pitched and lilting. “No I wouldn’t! Uncle Joel loves you so much, yes he does!” 

You smiled a little, letting yourself enjoy the sight of your best friend holding the baby who had become the most important person in the world before looking back in the direction of the kitchen where you knew Tommy was putting a mountain of junk food into the fridge and freezer. 

“Really, Goldie, it’s fine,” Joel said in his more typical baritone. “Tommy watched Sarah for me all the time when she was a baby, he’s actually great with kids, even tiny ones. She’ll be just fine for a night, I promise. We gotta do this.” 

You sighed and then nodded.

“Right,” you said. “You’re right, we do.” 

You held your arms out and Joel passed you Ellie before his lips brushed your temple, a motion that had become so commonplace over the last few weeks. You glanced at him quickly, eyes darting, as he pulled away from you and he flinched a little before grabbing your overnight bags and heading for the living room. 

That was a commonplace occurrence, too. The flinching when he touched you in some intimate, familiar way that seemed to go beyond the bounds of your previous relationship. 

You weren’t sure why he kept doing it. Kissing you, putting his hand on the small of your back when you were near, nuzzling into your hair. He always flinched some after, like these little sparks of closeness were nauseating. You had your theories as to why, of course. He’d told you little of Sarah’s mother but it sounded like she had been around for at least the early days of her daughter’s life. Maybe he was used to these tiny intimacies with a woman he was raising a child alongside, maybe the only way he was used to passing off a baby came with a gentle brush of his lips on skin. Or maybe he thought you needed it, that you were still so fragile even months after you’d shown up on his doorstep with a screaming infant and feeling like you were going to lose yourself if you weren’t careful that he needed to do things like touch you to keep you sane. 

But you wished he’d just stop. It didn’t help when you knew how much he apparently loathed it, it just stung. Even tempering it with the knowledge that he apparently cared enough for you to tolerate something he so clearly didn’t enjoy because he thought it was what you needed, it hurt. 

You and Joel had struck a delicate - if largely unspoken - balance since that first night. You’d all but moved in, Joel giving you two drawers and a corner of his closet, and you’d put a small bassinet in his room. The two of you took shifts overnight, switching out looking after Ellie when she stirred. Since UT’s school year ended a full month before Sarah’s did, you took over making breakfast and getting her out the door in the morning until she was on summer vacation and - now that summer break was in full swing - you watched her and you took care of Ellie while Joel was at work during the day. For all intents and purposes, you functioned like a couple. In all ways except one: you didn’t have sex again. 

You should probably be thankful for that, you knew. It wasn’t like you’d ever say no to him if he’d offered. Even if it destroyed you, you’d always fold the moment he touched you like he wanted you at all. The fact that it hadn’t happened since was a blessing. 

You tried to remind yourself of that when you were lying next to him at night and he didn’t touch you that way. Not that you expected him to at all, especially not with Ellie in the room but still. You wanted it. Longed for it. Ached for it, taking full advantage of what little privacy you got when in the shower or when Sarah was at a friend’s house and Ellie was down for a nap to fuck yourself hard and fast until you had to bite your lip to keep from moaning your best friend’s name. 

Because it was always Joel you thought of now. He was burned into you that way. The first time you’d ever touched yourself had been to the thought of Joel, back before you knew what kissing him and taking him into yourself would be. It had been a losing battle since you’d moved back to Texas, the proximity bringing him to mind so much faster now. Once you’d started dating Stephen, it felt almost like cheating when you made yourself come to the thought of someone else, even though you’d never talked about being exclusive in any sense, let alone in the world of fantasy. Still, you came hard to the thought of your best friend and dealt with the twinge of guilt after. You’d just hoped you’d be able to set this obsession down if you became serious about someone. 

The aftermath of sleeping with Joel again had proved, though, that you were going to be stuck here, feeling like this, for what seemed like forever. You cut things off with Stephen then, using Anna’s vanishing as an excuse to end things. Really, it was just because you couldn’t stomach pretending like it could go anywhere, like you wouldn’t spend your entire relationship wishing he was someone else. 

Since then, you’d thrown yourself into anything - everything - else you could use to distract yourself. Beyond caring for Ellie and Sarah, you’d made some progress on your next book, shifting the story to be about a family more than a romantic relationship. You’d helped Joel with a business plan for Miller Construction, the contracting company he was hoping to start. But, most importantly, you’d gotten some idea about where Anna might be. 

She was, at least, still alive. You’d been able to track down contact information for her sponsor after meeting her once and hearing Anna mention her first name a few times. Marlene had been reluctant to tell you much at all but did at least tell you that she was checking in with Anna daily. She seemed sober, apparently, and Marlene was encouraging her to seek some help but she hadn’t had any luck yet. 

“I shouldn’t tell you this,” she’d sighed when you called a few days earlier. “But she mentioned her ex today. I think she might be with him.” 

You’d all but flown into a panic at that, fighting to hold it together as you watched Sarah swim and you held Ellie carefully while you sat on the steps in the shallow end of the pool. Josh Williams was the worst possible fucking influence your sister could have. He’s who got her into drugs in the first place, their love affair had been a whirlwind even in the best of times. What would being around him do to her now, when she was cracking under the weight of motherhood and what you were certain was postpartum depression? 

“Goldie, take a breath,” Joel said that night after Sarah was in bed and he’d plied you with a margarita. “Here, gimme…” He held his hands out and you passed him the baby and he beamed at her for a moment, making her giggle, before he turned his attention back to you. “Drink more. Let’s think on it. When things went real bad for her, was she with Josh or was she on her own?” 

You sighed and took a sip of margarita. 

“On her own,” you said. “She definitely got into trouble with Josh but… he didn’t hurt her. Well, not like that.” 

“So she’s probably safe,” Joel said gently. “That’s good, that’s the important thing right now, right?” 

“Right,” you nodded and sighed again. “Jesus… So what do we do?” 

“Well,” Joel shifted Ellie and she cooed at him before he cooed back as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Lemme just…” He typed something in, pressing a kiss to little Ellie’s cheek as he did. “Alright, looks like that band of his is on tour and they’ll be in Dallas in a few days. We can go, talk to him, see if he knows where she is.” 

You nodded slowly, taking another drink. 

“If I can talk to her, I can see if I can get her to get some help,” you said. “Or at least come home… Even if we still keep Ellie for a while, if she was at least home…” 

“It’s progress, Goldie Girl,” Joel said gently, putting his phone back in his pocket and shifting Ellie again. “It’s a good thing. It is.” 

You drank a few margaritas there on his couch, watching Joel with Ellie. He seemed enraptured with her, making faces to pull little gummy smiles out of her chubby features and peppering her with kisses before coaxing her to sleep on his chest. 

“C’mon,” he said quietly after a while. “Let’s get this one to bed and then get you to bed. You need it.” 

That night was the closest the two of you came to fucking again. You were tipsy enough that Joel had to help keep you from stumbling between the bathroom and the bed, Ellie sleeping soundly in her crib as she had been the last few nights, the distance from her still oddly foreign to you. 

“Careful there,” he caught you. “How many’d you have?” 

“Enough, apparently,” you tried not to laugh, worried you’d wake up the baby. 

“I’ll say,” he said, walking you to the bed and lowering you to the mattress. “Alright, legs in baby.” 

You obeyed and he tucked the sheets around you before turning out the light and climbing into bed beside you. You rolled onto your side and nuzzled against him before he’d even gotten settled, making him laugh. 

“Forgot what a touchy feely drunk you are,” he teased. 

“Shut up,” you said, pressing yourself closer to him all the same. He laughed and then the two of you fit yourselves against each other, your body curving around his. 

“Know it’s not the best circumstances,” he said quietly after a minute. “But… I’m glad you’re here. That you’re not tryin’ to do this shit alone.” 

“Me too,” you said, moving somehow closer to him. His hold on you tightened, his nose nuzzling into your hair. Your lips ghosted over the warm skin of his throat. He groaned a little and your leg hitched over his thigh. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you ground your hips against him.

“Goldie,” he said, a little breathless, pulling back from you enough to look you in the eye. “We… we shouldn’t…” 

You groaned in a way that was closer to a whine and his forehead dropped to yours. 

“You’re drunk,” he whispered. 

“Not that drunk,” you whispered back. 

“Drunk enough,” he said, closing his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “This… you still want this in the morning? We can talk about it. Or just forget about it. Whatever you want, but we can’t right now.” 

You fell asleep before too long, feeling achy and needy as you did, and woke up still in Joel’s arms with dawn slipping through the slats of his blinds. Joel was already awake, his large palm resting on the crown of your head, his thumb brushing a gentle trail over your forehead. You looked at him for a moment, memorizing the planes of his face, the scruff on his cheeks, the way his hair was mussed first thing in the morning. 

“She still asleep?” You asked quietly, eventually. 

“Yeah,” he said, just as quiet. “Don’t know that she’s ever slept this late but checked the monitor a little while ago, she’s still breathin’…” 

“That’s good,” you smiled a little. Your stomachs were pressed together, your t-shirt had ridden up in the night so your skin was against his and he was so warm, the heat of him seeping out and spreading over you. 

“Goldie…” he whispered, his face drawn and so close to yours and your heart lurched in your chest. “I can’t…” 

Ellie’s sharp little cry made you both jump, like you’d forgotten for a moment about the little life in the next room that was completely dependent on the two of you. 

“I got ‘er,” Joel said, quickly pulling himself from you and all but running to Ellie’s room. 

The two of you didn’t talk about it again. 

You carried Ellie to the kitchen, Sarah perched on a counter as Tommy made a huge plate of nachos. 

“And we can watch movies and stay up late and…” 

“Just because I’m gonna be out of town for a night don’t mean that all the rules are out the window, baby girl,” Joel said, a small smile on his face all the same. 

“Hey,” Tommy said. “How late she stays up and what junk food we eat while she does it is none of your concern when you ain’t here, old man.”

“Yeah Dad,” Sarah smirked, leaning over and swiping a chip from Tommy’s plate. “You leave Uncle Tommy in charge? You get what you get.” 

“Lord,” Joel sighed, still smiling. “Such a bad influence on my kid…” 

“S’why you love me,” Tommy smirked before winking at you. “Alright, let me see the tiny one, c’mon.” 

You gave Ellie a kiss on her chubby cheek before passing her off to Tommy and he beamed at her. 

“There’s the cutest baby in the world,” he held her with his large hands around her waist, lifting her to blow a raspberry as best he could on her onesie covered stomach. Ellie giggled and he held her to his chest. “There, now I got the important stuff all set. You two get out of here, try to have fun…” 

“Not goin’ for fun,” Joel said, almost like a reprimand. 

“I know,” Tommy said, still calm. “But still. You two have had your hands full lately. Have a damn drink at least.” 

You stepped in before Joel had a chance to try to pick a fight with his brother. 

“You know how to hold her when she has her bottle?” You asked. “And where the extra diapers are in case the ones in the changing table drawers run out? And…” 

“I got ‘er,” Tommy said gently. “And I got your numbers if I need ‘em. Which I won’t.” 

You nodded, not fully able to shake the knot that had settled in your stomach at the thought of leaving Ellie with anyone but yourself or Joel. At the thought of being alone with Joel, no buffer of Ellie or Sarah that had been there ever since you’d slept together again. 

“Thank you for doin’ this,” Joel said earnestly. “It means a lot.” 

“One day, I’ll have kids and I’ll need you to watch ‘em when I want to get my girl out of town,” Tommy said. “Better believe I’m cashing in.” 

You and Joel stopped at a gas station on the way out of town, filling up your car and grabbing snacks from the convenience store and delaying the inevitable awkward silence when the two of you were alone with nothing else to distract you. 

It felt like the two of you were halfway to fucking Waco when Joel finally spoke. 

“You think she’ll be there?” He asked. 

You sighed. 

“I don’t know. I hope so, I hope we can get to her and that she’ll listen and…” 

You ground your teeth for a moment before looking over to him. Joel was driving - it never mattered that it was your car, Joel always drove, it had been like that even when you were teenagers - and there was something so reassuring about him being behind the wheel. 

“Is this stupid?” You asked. “Am I going about this the wrong way?” 

He glanced over to you, looking you up and down before turning his eyes back to the road. 

“I don’t think there’s a right or wrong way to do this,” he said after a moment. “It’s… it’s a shit situation. I just don’t want you gettin’ your hopes up too much is all.” 

“They’re not,” you said quickly. “God, even if she is there, it’s still going to be a fucking mess…” 

“It is,” Joel said. “But you’ll help her through it. You’re real good at that shit.” 

You scoffed. 

“What?” He said. “You are. You’ve been doin’ a great job, Goldie girl. That’s not going to change because Anna actually comes back - or doesn’t.” 

You nodded slowly, looking out the window again, trying not to think about whether you were more afraid that Anna would be at the concert tonight or that she wouldn’t be. 

“Think you’re ready to throw a pool party for a bunch of preteen girls?” You asked, giving him a little smile. 

“Lord,” he laughed once. “No. But thanks for helpin’ plan it all the same. Sarah’s so damn excited, rivals the fuckin’ concert…” 

“Your list is coming along,” you smiled a little wider him.

“Speaking of our lists,” he teased, glancing your way. “How’s that book of yours comin’ along?” 

“Good, shockingly enough,” you said. “You’re in this one, too. Well, kind of you, it’s not like I named the character Joel but…” 

“I am?” He asked, brows raised. You nodded and then he frowned. “Wait, too? What do you mean, too?” 

Your face fell before you could stop it, your eyes going wide. 

“Goldie,” he said, glancing toward you. “What’d you mean, too? Was I in your first book?” 

“OK, don’t start that,” you said. “Come on, I… Look, alright? My first book was more of a coming of age thing and you were my best friend so… yeah, OK, you might have influenced a character a little. Just a bit. That’s all, it’s nothing crazy…” 

Your heart was racing but Joel just smiled, broad enough that it made the corners of his eyes crinkle. 

“Didn’t know I meant so much to you, Goldie Girl,” he teased. 

“Don’t read into it,” you rolled your eyes. “Literally, please don’t read it…” 

“Pretty sure it’s above my reading level, anyway,” he winked.

You glared at him. 

“I hate you,” you said. 

“I know,” he smiled, glancing over at you. “S’why we get along so well.” 

The two of you fell into your usual, comfortable familiarity after that, joking and laughing and singing along to the songs from the playlist Joel made for the drive, you trying to forget about the fact that you were only making this drive to try to save your sister from herself. 

The room Joel had booked for you this time was not nearly as nice as the one from the Taylor Swift weekend - not that you were arguing. Putting the two of you in one hotel room right now felt like tempting fate as it was, let alone one that could be mistaken for romantic. But still, you were disappointed when he opened the motel door to a room with two queen sized beds instead of just one king. 

“Figured you could use some space from me since we don’t gotta listen to a baby monitor all night,” Joel said, carrying the bags in. He dropped your duffle on the bed furthest from the door and checked his watch. “Should probably head out in about an hour if you want to get something to eat first…” 

You nodded, fidgeting with your necklace, feeling Joel’s eyes on you. 

“Well,” Joel said, his voice a little awkward. “Think I’ll… I’ll just… take a nap. Keep my eyes closed. So you can get changed and shit if you need.” 

“Right,” you smiled tightly. “Thanks.” 

“Yup,” he said, lying flat on his back on his bed, his forearm over his eyes as you started going through your bag. 

You checked in with Tommy, already missing Ellie, before you got changed into something that was good for a rock concert. Well, you thought it was, anyway - this was always your sister’s territory - and did your hair and makeup so that you had a shot of trying to talk your way backstage to talk to Josh. Hopefully. Maybe. 

When you gently shook Joel awake he stared at you for a moment, blinking with a look on his face that you couldn’t quite place. 

“You really passed out,” you teased, fighting that awkward feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

“Yeah,” he shook his head quickly, like he was shaking off the sleep. “Guess so. C’mon Goldie, let’s go see if we can find Anna.”

***

There had to be more Joel could be doing to help you. He was sure there was something he was fucking missing because there had to be something he could do beyond twiddling his fucking thumbs, waiting in line to get into a small concert venue in Dallas on a Saturday night. 

You were twisting your hands around on themselves, lower lip between your teeth as you tried to peer around the line as though you’d have any chance of seeing any of the bands right now. 

“Is this dumb?” You asked eventually, looking at Joel with wide eyes. “I’m worried this is a stupid fucking idea…” 

“How else were you gonna get ahold of the guy?” He asked gently. “You didn’t have his number, it’s not like you can find him in the damn phonebook. You came to him. It’s what you had to do. You have to try, right?” 

You took a deep, shaky breath and nodded. 

“Right,” you said. “You’re right.” 

The words didn’t match your expression, still worrying your lip between your teeth, still knotting your fingers and Joel wondered yet again what the fuck he was missing. It had to be something, there had to be something he could do to make your life easier because, fuck, why was he even here if he couldn’t?

Ever since you’d all but moved into his house, you’d done nothing but improve his life. Sure, you came with an infant and she was nothing if not a challenge but Joel liked having another kid around to take care of. Thrived on it, really. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed Sarah’s newborn days until he was faced with Ellie’s. 

Joel had been so alone then, drowning in the state of his life, in his new identity as Sarah’s father, in the weight of the future heavy in his hands whenever he held his baby girl. It had been hard to really enjoy that time. He knew he’d want to remember it, the way her little legs tucked up into her stomach and the way her nose scrunched when she first woke up - something she still did now if he woke her up abruptly from a deep enough sleep - but it had been a conscious thing. Remember it because he should, because he knew he’d want to keep these parts of his daughter close, not because it came naturally. 

He wondered, sometimes, in hindsight, if there was something wrong with him for that. If he wasn’t a good enough father because his mind had been elsewhere in his daughter’s earliest days, if some vital piece of him was broken because he hadn’t taken naturally to that part of fatherhood even though he loved her more than he realized any human being could love another. 

With Ellie, though, he knew he wasn’t broken. He’d just been so overwhelmed by everything else that the best parts of fatherhood hadn’t found their way to him yet. Now, though, it seemed like he had everything he needed. There was Sarah, you, a new little life that needed care and guidance and love. He felt like he had purpose and so much of that was thanks to you. 

And of course, once you came into yourself again with Ellie, you’d started doing what you always did: make things better. Of course, you just being there would have made things better. But you stepped right into loving his daughter like she was your own. He’d come home from a job site and find you in the yard with the girls, a makeshift soccer goal set up, Ellie in her bouncer in the shade, you in the goal to give Sarah a chance to practice shooting. 

“Dad, look!” She’d yell before Joel even got the door all the way open on the truck. 

“I’m watchin’,” he’d smile and look over her head to you and you’d give him a wink. And he did watch as Sarah dribbled the ball toward you and faked out her kick, making you go one way while the ball went the other. 

“See?” She beamed, her smile huge. “I’m going to score so many goals next season!” 

“You really are,” he kissed her forehead. “Great job, baby girl!” 

You helped him with his business plan. You gave him an audience while he practiced playing guitar with a plan to go talk to Jimmy and see if he’d let him play at the bar again, like he did when he was young. You’d kick him playfully as the two of you sat on opposite ends of the couch with your legs overlapping his in the middle, just like you had when you were kids. You made him dinner and made him laugh and made him want to kiss you so bad he wondered if it was possible to explode with wanting. 

You did so much for him. Why couldn’t he figure out a goddamn way to give it back to you? 

The venue finally opened and you laced your fingers with Joel’s as you worked your way through the press of people, trying to make it close to the stage. 

“This is so weird,” you said, looking back over your shoulder to Joel, standing at your back. “What do we do? Dance? Pretend this is a regular concert? Do we get a beer?” 

“If you want a beer, Goldie, I’ll get you one,” Joel smiled a little. “I think it’s fine if we just stand here until they come on and try and get his attention when they do. But… well, if you feel like you can have a good time, I think you should.” 

Your face pinched at that, like you thought maybe you shouldn’t even consider something as insignificant as your own happiness. 

“Think this’ll be easier with a drink,” he said, making an executive decision. Maybe having fun when trying to track down your sister when she was fuck knows where and left you with her infant daughter was insane but fuck it, being miserable while doing it wasn’t making it any easier. “Be back.” 

You looked like you were about to protest but he slipped away from you and into the people starting to press into the pit, working his way against the flow of bodies to the bar. He got himself a whiskey soda and you a vodka sour because that’s what you’d get with your fake ID when the two of you would sneak into places like this when you were kids. He smiled a little, thinking about that as he went to find you again, how you’d pretended like it wasn’t really breaking the rules since you were just helping Joel do research for how to break into the music business. You’d smile at him, your eyes so bright from the stage lights and say “Someday, that’ll be you up there” and he thought - even then - that you might be the best thing he’d ever seen. 

Joel was working his way back through the crowd to you, living in that time long past for a moment, when he saw you toward the front of the pit. But he didn’t have a chance to really enjoy the sight of you all decked out in your concert clothes. Instead, there was a man next to you, his hand on the small of your back as you leaned away from him and Joel’s blood got hot. 

“…just for a little while,” the man was saying, trying to step closer to you. 

“No thanks,” you said, your tone sharp. 

“C’mon, we’ll get you a drink and…” 

“Hey,” Joel said, stopping right behind the man, crowding his space. The guy was tall but not as tall as Joel and he had to tilt his head back to look him in the face. “You botherin’ my girl?” 

The man’s eyes darted to you before going back to Joel. 

“She didn’t…” the man began before puffing himself up, straightening his spine as much as he could. But the top of his head still only reached Joel’s eyes and he quickly deflated. “Look man, all she had to do was say she had a boyfriend and I would’ve backed off, alright? Think your problem is with your girl…” 

“No,” Joel said, jaw tight. “My problem’s with you. Don’t matter if she’s got a boyfriend or not, she says she ain’t interested? She ain’t interested. Learn some fuckin’ respect. Or do you need me to teach you?” 

The man looked Joel up and down, like he was weighing his chances. Joel just stood his ground. He wasn’t about to let this asshole just touch you without permission. An excuse to hit him would be welcome. 

“Fuckin’ asshole,” the guy muttered, turning to go. Joel watched him leave before turning back to you and handing you your drink. 

“You alright?” He asked. 

“Fine,” you said, watching him closely. “Thank you for that. He just was not backing off. I forgot what it’s like to go to places like this and deal with guys like that…” 

“Shouldn’t have to deal with guys like that,” Joel said, clenching his jaw. “Fuckin’ asshole should know how to take a no. But probably shouldn’t leave you unattended again, apparently the second I walk away some jackass swoops in…” 

You laughed a little and rolled your eyes as the crowd started cheering and you turned to face the stage as the opener came out. Joel slipped his hand around your waist to your stomach, his fingers splaying wide over the satin fabric of your shirt and he wanted to touch the silk of your skin below and he tried not to think about that. He tugged you back against him and you frowned, looking over your shoulder to him. 

“To be safe,” he said in your ear. “Keep other assholes’ hands off ya.” 

You smiled a little and Joel held you close as the first two bands played, your back pressed tightly against his front. The more of your cocktail you drank, the more you moved almost absently to the music and Joel had to focus to not get lost in you. 

It was easier to remember exactly what the two of you were doing here when the headlining band - Josh’s band - took the stage. The crowd became deafening when they came out and you grabbed Joel’s arm when the guitarist jogged to his place under the lights. 

“That’s Josh!” You yelled over your shoulder to Joel. 

He evaluated the man quickly. Your brother-in-law was on the other side of the stage, stocky and shorter than Joel’d expected him to be, in ripped jeans and a tight gray t-shirt, a guitar strapped across his body. He lifted the neck of it and played the first chord, the lead singer running out and taking the mic. 

“C’mon,” Joel said, keeping his grip on you and trying to guide you through the crush of people toward the other side of the stage, hoping that Josh would see you and recognize you in the crowd. “Try and get closer.” 

It took some time, a few songs passing before the two of you could make it over there and even then, getting to the very front of the pit was basically impossible, fans pressed tight to the barricades and reaching for the band. 

Still, it didn’t stop you from trying to get his attention, your arms up over your head and screaming his name. When he thought the set might be winding down and Josh still hadn’t acknowledged you, Joel started looking for where to take you to try to get back stage and, when the band left the stage and you deflated, he took your hand. 

“C’mon,” he said. “Think we can try and get to ‘em this way…” 

He tugged you along behind him, keeping a tight hold on you as he led you to a side door. He jiggled the handle but it was locked. 

“Shit,” you swore, looking back to where people were leaving. 

“Any security?” Joel asked, voice low. 

You frowned and looked around for a moment. 

“No, but…” 

He grimaced but forced the handle down with all his weight, the old lock popping. 

“Did you just break the door?” You asked quietly, brows raised. 

Joel shrugged. 

“You gotta do what you gotta do,” he said, ushering you through it and quickly pulling it shut behind him. 

“Now where?” You whispered it even though there was no one around to hear you. 

“Uh,” he looked around, trying to remember where he thought the green rooms would be as he looked down the hall. “This way, I think.” 

He led you down the cinderblock passage, things getting louder as he did - a good sign, he thought. And then, he turned a corner and walked smack into a security guard. 

“Sorry,” Joel said quickly, tucking you behind him and hoping the guy would forget it and move on. 

No such luck. 

“You two supposed to be back here?” The guard asked, looking you and Joel up and down. “Show me your passes.” 

“We don’t have any,” you said, stepping out from behind Joel before he could stop you. “But I’m trying to talk to Josh Williams from Shine Anthem, he’s my brother-in-law and…” 

“Don’t really give a shit who you say you are,” the guard said, reaching for Joel. “You can’t just come back here so I’m going to have to ask you to…” 

Joel was trying to figure out some kind of plan when he heard your name being called from behind you and then the man from the stage was there, running up and damn near tackling you, bending low to tuck his shoulder into your chest so he could lift you into a hug as you yelped. 

He put you down quickly, though, a broad smile on his face and a glassy look in his eyes. 

“You didn’t tell me you were coming!” He beamed, looking you up and down. “Should’ve called! I’d have gotten you tickets and passes and shit instead of you hangin’ out out there with everyone else!” 

“Well, it’s not like I had your number,” you said, a little incredulous as Josh leaned around you to the guard. 

“They’re good,” Josh said to him. “This is my girl’s sister! She never fuckin’ visits, this is great!” 

You turned to Joel, a look of almost total disbelief on your face as Josh threw an arm around your shoulders and started guiding you down the hall. Joel just shrugged at the security guard and followed, you looking back over your shoulder to make sure he was still there. 

“She didn’t say anything about you coming, either,” he said, an almost odd familiarity to his tone. From what Joel knew, you’d only spent a little time with your sister’s husband, it wasn’t as though the two of you were close. “Could’ve called her, too! She can always get ahold of me, always answer the phone for that girl…” 

“Have you seen her?” You asked. “Because…” 

“Seen her?” He laughed. “She’s here! It’s like old times, s’been great! God I love that girl. She’s with the guys right now, nice to have her around again…” 

“She’s here?” You stopped and turned to stare at him. “Right now?” 

“Yeah!” He said brightly. “This is great, a regular family reunion! She’ll be so excited to see you, she’s always saying she wishes you’d come back home more. Who’s this guy, by the way? Not your husband, he’s that old dude, right?” 

“This is my friend Joel,” you said quickly before trying to refocus him. “Josh, I need to see Anna. Right now.” 

“Alright, alright,” he said, stopping outside a heavy metal door and turning to Joel. “You party? Because we can do shit up, I know this one’s not usually down but…” 

“We’re not here to fucking party, Josh!” You snapped. “I need to see Anna! Right now!” 

“OK!” He put his hands up and gave Joel a look as if to say ‘women, right?’ before opening the door. “She’s right here.”

The space was smaller than Joel had been expecting. Maybe he had idealized expectations for a rockstar’s green room since he’d once dreamed of being one but this one was small, with a few couches that were crowded with people, the air clouded with acrid smoke so thick he couldn’t help but cough. 

“Ahhh!” Anna threw her arms in the air in glee from the corner of one of the couches, where she was perched on the lap of some other band member. “My sister’s here! Look, guys, it’s my big sister!” 

Joel clenched his jaw and looked over to you, ready to help you if you needed it. The look on your face was hard for him to place, your expression so strangely foreign. Of all the faces Joel knew, he knew yours maybe best of all - Sarah the only exception. He knew how you looked when you were lost in thought, when you were about to cry, when you were coming, when you laughed so hard you cried. But you were so rarely angry that he didn’t recognize it, not at first. 

But your eyes narrowed and your hands curled into fists at your sides and for a moment, just a moment, Joel thought you were going to scream. 

But you didn’t. Instead, you steeled yourself and marched purposefully, forcefully, over to your sister. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You asked, standing over her. “This is what you’re doing? You’re here, partying with your ex-husband and the guys you used to fuck around with while I’m home with your daughter?” 

The room had gone silent, Anna staring up at you with wide eyes. 

“Daughter?” Josh said quietly and Joel looked over at him. He was staring at Anna in disbelief and disappointment. “Wait, you had a kid? When…” 

“You didn’t even tell him?” You scoffed at her. “Of course you wouldn’t, why would you? Why would you ever consider anyone but yourself in your decision making process? You never have before! Hell, you never even really think of yourself, do you? Not your future self, not the person you really need to be worried about because if you did, you wouldn’t be fucking high right now!” 

“I’m not high!” She got up quickly, stumbling a little as she did. 

“Bullshit you’re not high,” you snapped. “Look at you!” 

“I’m not…” She lowered her voice, as though that would make much difference in a room as quiet and small as this one. “It’s just some pot, OK? It’s not like…” 

“Oh, because you’re not snorting anything or injecting anything, it doesn’t count?” You asked, brows raised, incredulous. “Because this isn’t the first step to you ending up back in the hospital after you OD again or worse, just dead somewhere?” 

“You ODed?” Josh said weakly, going over to her, running his fingers through her hair. “Baby, you never told me this, why didn’t you tell me this?” 

“It was last year,” she said. “You were touring, it wasn’t that bad…” 

“She almost died,” you said to Josh. “And she had been sober until you came along, so congratulations on dragging her down yet again.” 

You turned your attention back to your sister. 

“Were you ever planning on coming home?” You asked. “Or were you going to just party like a goddamn teenager without a care in the world until you wound up dead?” 

Anna just stared down at her hands and you shook your head. 

“I should have fucking known.” 

You stalked off without another word, slamming the door behind you as you went. 

The room was awkwardly silent for a moment, Josh looking at Joel apologetically. 

“I didn’t know,” he said quietly, his eyes wide, all the casual familiarity gone. Instead, he was almost uncomfortably earnest and almost sad. “I never would have… I didn’t know.” 

Joel looked back toward the door for a moment before he sighed and looked at Josh again. 

“We’re here ’til the morning,” he said. “Gimme your phone.” 

Josh handed it over and Joel typed his number into a text message before sending himself a message that had the name and address of the hotel you were at with the room number. He gave the phone back before he turned to Anna. 

“She loves you,” Joel said. “And she loves Ellie. You should come home.” 

She sniffed but just turned her head, looking away from him. 

“Right,” Joel said. “Well… Should know Ellie misses you. And we’ll be at that hotel until 11 a.m. tomorrow.” 

He had to run to catch up with you, finding you standing outside with tears in your eyes as you paced. 

“Hey,” Joel said and you looked at him, quickly drying your eyes on the insides of your wrists. “You alright?” 

“No,” you sniffed. “No, I just fucked everything up, I shouldn’t have done that, who knows what…” 

“Hey,” Joel cut you off, pulling you into his chest. “S’OK.” 

“Easy for you to say,” you said, voice muffled by his shirt. 

He sighed, holding you for a moment, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“C’mon,” he said, giving you a squeeze. “Let’s go back to the hotel. Pick up some beer on the way.” 

You checked in with Tommy on the way and Joel tried to keep his distance from you once the two of you got back to the hotel room and you’d calmed down a little. He’d gotten the two damn beds for a reason and it wasn’t because he wanted to be apart from you. It was because he knew that things between the two of you had gotten too close since you’d shown up on his doorstep with Ellie in your arms. Even if the sex had never happened, it was too much like being with you, going through life with you the way he had been. It couldn’t continue, not without destroying him. 

So Joel stayed on his bed and you stayed on yours, a six pack on the night stand in the middle and he cursed the pretext of it. The space was smart, he knew that. But goddamn, couldn’t he just hold you as long as you’d let him? Couldn’t he just live in that liminal place for as long as he could manage it? Wouldn’t the damage be worth it in the end if he did? He didn’t know. He just stayed on his bed, finding some stupid action movie with a bad TV edit to put on, one where the dialogue choices were bad enough that you were laughing so hard that you spilled beer on your bedspread. 

“Oh shit,” you swore, putting the now nearly empty bottle on the nightstand and jumping up to run to the bathroom and grab towels. Joel joined you, mopping up the mess as best you could. “God, so much for having one night where I don’t end up covered in something. If it’s not spit-up at home it’s beer here…” 

“At least this didn’t end up in your hair,” Joel smiled a little and you laughed. 

“Yeah, thank god for small miracles. And at least it’s just my bed so you don’t have to deal with it, too.” 

“You don’t need to deal with it, either,” he said before he even thought about it. “You can just sleep in my bed.”

Not that he really needed to think about it. 

“You don’t need to do that,” you waved him off. “I’ve already taken over half your bed at home, you deserve your space. I’ll be fine sleeping in spilled beer for a night.” 

“Goldie, c’mon,” he said, realizing just how close he was standing to you. How easy it would be to kiss you. “This ain’t some frat house, not about to just make you sleep in that shit.” 

You bit your lower lip, uncertain, and he had to fight the urge to tug that soft flesh from between your teeth. He wanted to bite that lip, kiss it, run his thumb over it. 

“What?” He asked, desire edging into his voice whether he wanted it to or not. 

“What about distance?” You asked quietly, breathily. 

“Distance is overrated,” he said, tightening his hold on the towels so he wouldn’t grab you and kiss you the way he was so fucking desperate to do. 

He tried to make himself calm down in the few minutes you were in the bathroom, getting changed into pajamas and setting the beer-soaked towels out to dry. He wished he could jerk off because that might be the only thing that actually put him back inside his own goddamn head for a moment. Maybe he could once you were asleep, just lock himself in the bathroom and fuck his hand to the memory of you and try to keep your name off his tongue when he came. 

But that wouldn’t help now as he watched you cross the room in the little shorts and tank top you’d brought to sleep in, all but mesmerized by the bounce of your breasts when free of your bra when you walked or the way the soft cotton of your bottoms just skimmed the edge of your ass and he could see the swell of flesh there, almost out of sight, almost out of reach, close enough to tempt but far enough to not belong to him. 

“I really didn’t mean to put you out again,” you said as you climbed into bed beside him. “I really didn’t mean to the first time, either… In case I haven’t said it, I think I owe you my life for everything you’ve done for me and Ellie. I would have drowned in this alone.” 

“You’re not putting me out, Goldie girl,” he said, smiling a little. “Hell, it’s been nice, having the two of you around. Sarah’s been beggin’ me for a little sister since she could talk, think this is the closest she’s getting for a while…” 

You laughed a little and then sighed, leaning your head back against the headboard. 

“How bad do you think I fucked up with Anna?” You asked, watching him. 

He sighed. 

“I dunno… S’not like I know much about addiction or what she’s going through right now. But I can’t say I blame you for what you said. She knows you love her, that you want what’s best for her.” 

You sighed and looked down at your hands, picking at your thumbnail for a moment. 

“She’s the one who found our mom, did I ever tell you that?” 

“No,” Joel said quietly, watching you closely. 

“She did,” you nodded at your hands. “I can’t imagine what that would have been like for her. I only saw Mom after the funeral home had her, I didn’t have to… I wasn’t there for Anna after that. It’s no wonder she dropped out, found trouble, tried to take care of shit with drugs…” 

“That’s not on you,” Joel said. 

“Isn’t it?” You looked at him. “I was the big sister, I was who she had and I left her to cope with it alone and the first time I try to actually help her with something, I fuck that up, too.” 

“You were young,” Joel said. “Basically a kid.” 

“I was 20 years old,” you replied. “I was old enough to have a fiance and a career path and a life away from here. I could have moved back, I could have stepped up, I could have done something but I just…” 

“It’s not your job to take care of everybody, baby,” he said gently. 

“What if I fucked up so bad this time that she doesn’t come back?” You whispered. “What if she leaves Ellie with me forever and I can’t do it and…” 

You sniffed and looked back at your hands, a tear slipping down your cheek and Joel just tugged you against him, tucking you against his chest, kissing the crown of your head. 

“We’ll deal with it,” he said, tracing his fingertips along your hairline soothingly. “Whatever happens, I’ve got you. It’s OK.” 

You nodded wetly into his chest and he held you like that for a while, your body slowly molding to his until you were soft and warm and pressed entirely against him and your tears slowed. 

“You doin’ better?” He asked eventually and you nodded against him, sitting up and sniffling a little. He smiled, reaching out and trying your tears with a swipe of his thumb, your cheek fitting against his palm. “See? Not so bad.” 

“No,” you smiled a little back. “It’s not.” 

Your eyes were on his and he was so close to you, so close that he could almost touch your nose with his. 

So he did, moving ever so slightly closer so your skin was brushing his own. Your breath hitched when he did and instead of finding relief in the contact, it stoked a fire he hadn’t realized was burning, low and hot and sure, inside him. 

“Joel,” you breathed. “Please…” 

“It’s OK Goldie girl,” he said softly. “I’ve got you.” 

He kissed you then, the concept of distance so far at the back of his mind as he did, the spearmint of your toothpaste tinged with hops from the beer on your breath. 

It was hesitant at first. He wasn’t sure if it was just him holding back or if you were, too, but all pretense was gone almost immediately. You were twisting in the sheets, moving to face him, to put your arms around his neck and press yourself closer to him as his hands ranged over you, trying to touch as much of you as he could reach before you slipped through his fingers yet again. 

He pulled at your clothes, your mouth separating from his only long enough to get your shirts off, and you moaned into him, fingers fumbling with his pants, pulling the waistband down to free his already hard and aching cock. He palmed you through your shorts, your cunt so hot and wet he could feel it through the fabric and if he thought too long about what being inside you would feel like, he was going to come before he even had a chance to fuck you. 

Your hand wrapped around his length and you started working him, making him groan and you seemed hellbent on trying to move closer to him somehow, practically squirming as you worked yourself against his hand while pulling yourself toward him. 

“I’ve got you baby,” he said, breathless, as he tugged your shorts down, watching with rapt attention as your skin was revealed to him. You were glistening between your thighs and he groaned at the sight, tossing your shorts and panties aside before he teased your little, swollen clit. 

“Fuck,” you panted, closing your eyes for a moment. “Holy… I need…” 

“What?” He asked after a moment, working your clit harder. “What do you need, baby?” 

“You inside me,” your eyes opened again, your pupils blown. Your hips moved almost of their own accord against him and he moaned. “Please Joel, please, fuck, it hurts, I need…” 

“Take what you need,” he said, cock aching so bad he thought he might explode with hit. 

You just nodded before moving to straddle him. He sat back against the headboard and took your waist in his hands as your dripping slit brushed against his leaking head, his hips involuntarily jerking up toward you at the temptation of you there, hot and wet and wanting. 

Your eyes met his - so wide and vulnerable - before you lined him up with your grasping entrance and took him inside yourself in one, swift motion, 

He gasped at the feeling of it, how your velvet tightness made room for him inside of you, how your walls stretched over him, how you were so warm and soft inside, your wetness already making a mess of him. 

“Fuck, you feel good,” he breathed, watching you closely. “So goddamn good…” 

You just gave him a strangled little moan as you looked down between your bodies to where he was entering you, panting for breath. You rolled your hips against him, slowly and deliberately at first, pulling a groan from him that made him thankful you were in some shitty hotel room and not home where his daughter would hear him because he didn’t think he could stop it if he tried. He didn’t want to stop it. He wanted to let himself get lost in you and your body and your pleasure until the only thought left in his mind was you. 

You started to ride him in earnest then, your pace increasing, your clit finding his pubic bone and grinding against him there as he thrust up into you, finding those deep, soft places inside your tight heat, places that made your channel start to flutter over him in little shocks of pleasure. 

He watched as you stifled your moan as he hit one of those places inside of you and he pressed there deeper, harder, holding you to him for a moment before his thumb moved to your clit, working you in tight circles. 

“Want to hear you, baby,” he panted before kissing and sucking at the tender skin of your throat. “Don’t gotta be quiet here, lemme hear you.” 

You nodded quickly, desperately, and his hands ran up your back as you arched into him, fingers digging into your flesh, guiding you over him as you rode him hard and fast and he met you stroke for stroke. You moaned, your body tightening around him and he took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and teasing and turning your moan into a needy little cry. 

“That’s it baby,” he panted against your skin. “Just take it. Come for me, make yourself come on my cock, c’mon.” 

Your movements became faster, more uncertain, your pussy so tight around him it would probably hurt in any other context but because it was you, like this, it was heaven. 

“Joel!” You cried, burying him deep inside as you exploded around him, your muscles throbbing over him. He held you close and tight and drank in the sight and sound of your pleasure for a moment before giving over to his own, coming hard and deep inside of you, rope after seemingly endless rope of his spend spilling into you. 

He held you close and tight like that as the two of you came back down from your shared high, buried inside you where it felt so much like he belonged he thought his heart might burst with it. 

Eventually, you sat back from him, your eyes searching his for a moment, a hint of panic at the edges. He ignored the sting in his chest that came with that and instead just cupped your cheek. 

“It’s OK baby,” he said softly. “I’ve got you.” 

You just watched him for another moment before you nodded and slowly, gently, pulled yourself away from him, settling against him on the bed. 

He had the fleeting thought that he should go, get a washcloth, clean the two of you up but he couldn’t bring himself to move, afraid if he lost this closeness with you now he might never get it back. Instead, he stayed there, trailing his fingers up and down your bare arm as he held you. 

“What are we doing?” You asked quietly, eventually. “We can’t keep doing this, Joel, we have responsibilities, we’re not teenagers anymore, there are kids involved now, we….” 

“Why do we have to be doing something?” He asked, adjusting so he could actually look at you. 

You pulled back from him, frowning a little. 

“What?” 

“Why can’t we just…” he paused, trying to find the words. Words he shouldn’t say but that he couldn’t seem to stop. “We’re basically living together. We have so much else goin’ on right now it’s not like we’re dating anyone. Why don’t we just…” 

He trailed off, hoping you’d fill in the rest. 

“Do you mean like…” You paused. “Friends with benefits or something?” 

“Yeah,” he said, even though calling you that felt so wrong that it was something like blasphemy. “Then we can just… do this when we need it. Don’t need to be a big deal, it can just…” 

“Right,” you said, looking from his face to his chest before nodding. “Yeah… That… we can try that. As long as you promise it won’t ruin things with us. I can’t lose you again, Joel. I just can’t.” 

“I know, baby,” he said quietly, kissing your forehead. “Can’t lose you, either.” 

“OK,” you said softly, nuzzling closer. “Friends.” 

“With benefits,” he said. 

“With benefits,” you said. 

The term felt so wrong that it took time to settle in him, reducing what he felt for you to something as simple as just friendship with sex. But there was something hopeful in him, too. Something that clung, vicious and hard, to the thought that he could have this with you, live in that place between worlds where he could pretend that you were his when he came home to you because he got to fit himself inside you every night. This, he thought, would be worth the destruction. 

He tried to dwell on the comfort of that as the two of you got packed the next morning, moving slowly but in sync with each other in the small room, one bed stained with beer and the other your indiscretions. 

Joel had given up hope that Anna would show - glad he hadn’t told you that he’d given Josh the room number so you wouldn’t be let down by it - when he carried your bags to the car in the morning but froze when he saw your brother-in-law standing outside an Uber, his arms crossed, watching the hotel room door. Joel just gave him a nod before going to put the bags in the trunk, Josh meeting him there. 

“Didn’t think you were comin’,” Joel said, closing the lid with a little too much force. 

Josh nodded slowly, staring at Joel’s feet. 

“Needed to talk things through with her first,” he said before meeting his eyes. “I didn’t know any of that shit, swear I didn’t. If I did, I wouldn’t have… I guess it doesn’t matter. I talked with her. She told me everything. I think everything, anyway.” 

Joel just nodded, giving him a chance to continue on his own terms. 

“I’m not good for her right now,” he said. “Shit, probably never was but I’m smart enough to know better now and I love her too much to let her get hurt because of me.” 

“So what are you going to do about it?” Joel asked. “Because saying that kind of shit don’t mean much if you just keep letting it happen.” 

“You’re right,” Josh said. “She’s in the car. She agreed to go home with you guys and go to rehab. Back to rehab, I guess.” 

Joel nodded again, looking toward the car, just making out the outline of Anna sitting in the back through the tinted window. 

“You’re doing the right thing,” Joel said. 

“Is she here?” Josh asked. Joel jerked his thumb toward the hotel room but Josh shook his head. “Not… I mean the baby. Ellie? Is she here?” 

“No,” Joel said. “She’s home, with my brother. He’s takin’ good care of her, he watched my daughter plenty when she was Ellie’s age.” 

Josh clenched his jaw but nodded anyway. 

“Probably for the best,” he said. “I’m not… I should figure my own shit out before I meet her. But I want to. I will. I’m going to.” 

Joel wasn’t sure he believed him but then, he’d done plenty to try to make himself worthy of being Sarah’s dad. Maybe Josh had it in him, too. 

“Joel, do you have the…” 

You fell silent as you came up beside him, one hand in your bag like you were looking for something, your mouth open in shock when you realized who he was standing with. 

“Hey sis,” Josh smiled awkwardly. 

“Hey,” you said quietly, eyes wide. 

“Anna’s in the car,” he said. “We talked. She’s going to head back with you, figure shit out.” 

“Yeah?” You asked, voice wet. 

“Yeah,” Josh said. “It’s… it’s the right thing. Just… don’t be too hard on her. She’s hurting.” 

“I won’t,” you said quickly. “I’m sorry I said what I did last night, I didn’t…” 

“It’s OK,” Anna said. Joel hadn’t even noticed her getting out of the car but she was there now, one arm crossed protectively over herself. “I know I didn’t give you much choice.” 

“Anna,” you breathed before all but throwing yourself at her, flinging your arms around her neck to pull her close. “I’m so glad you’re OK.” 

She laughed wetly as she hugged you back. 

“Yeah, me too.” 

Josh went to help her get her things from the Uber and you looked to Joel, drying your eyes on your wrists. 

“How’d you do it?” You asked quietly. 

He shrugged. 

“Don’t think I did much of anything at all,” he said, watching you closely. “Just told her the truth.” 

“Whatever you did,” you said, stepping closer to him. “Thank you.” 

You hugged him, your arms wrapping around him and he could feel every line of your body against his and he held you close. He couldn’t help but hold you close. 

“‘Course, baby,” he said. “Do anything for you.” 

He tried not to think about how true that was or how much that scared him as he gathered you up and took you and your sister home, where you belonged. 

A/N: I'm so sorry this took an eternity to write. My carpel tunnel flared up something fierce and put me out of commission for a while. Thank you so much for being patient!

Goldie and Joel are doing... something. It's something. I promise they're getting somewhere, they really are! There are just a few more bumps in the road until they do. I just really love writing these two as they work through these long-held assumptions and insecurities! Thank you for wanting to be there for it.

Love you!

Taglist: @kaseyconnour

[ahockeywrites]

Prompt 44 w/ nh13 👀

I’m mildly obsessed with that man

⁴⁴⁾ “i like you so much better with my hand around your throat.” from this list

warnings: smut!, explicit fem!reader, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it!), spitting in mouth, spanking, choking, oral!fem receiving, oral!m receiving, sucking on fingers, degradation (use of the word slut once)

authors note: can be seen as a second part to through the fog, i see you

to say that you didn’t like Nico was an understatement. you loathed him. yes, you had slept with him once in a dirty club bathroom, but that’s all it was. a one time thing where he did the one thing no man before or after him could do. he got you off. and he enjoyed it.

the fact that two weeks later, after their east coast road trip, you found yourself under him for the first time. in his apartment. in his bed. as his dark hair fell into his face, he didn’t bother to push it out the way as it would only deter his actions, namely using all his energy to thrust himself into you with as much force as possible, trying to knock out as much air from your lungs as possible.

sweat beaded on his brow and the odd drop made its way down to his chin and fell onto you. it was hot in the dirtiest way possible. he had already spat in your mouth, after spending what felt like hours between your legs and made you swallow it before calling you a good girl as his large fingers slipped inside.

you’d sucked on his thumb, pretending it was his cock, before he’d let you anywhere near his member. to make sure that you were ready for it hitting the back of your throat. he’d held your head still, by your hair, as he thrusted in and out of your mouth before coming all over your face. then he collected some on his finger and made you lick it off. he had spanked you as you rode him when you stopped looking him directly in the eyes.

nico was easily the sexiest hookup you’d ever had.

he pulled out of you quickly but grabbed your legs and yanked you down the length of the bed so your legs dangled off the end. his strong body squatted down to be between your legs, but instead of putting his tongue or fingers to use, he put your ankles on his shoulders. he rose and pushed the tip of his cock into you.

“you like that baby,” he whispered as he bent over to cage your body in. you were almost folded in half and it was delightfully painful. as he bent over his cock filled you once more and your eyes rolled in the back of your head. “yeah she does, she fucking loves this, doesn’t she. my fucking little slut.”

your eyes were open wide and all you could do was nod at speed. you did love it and there was nothing you could do to lie to nico. you may have hated him when he wasn’t fucking you, but god damn you loved him when he fucked you.

his hands rested on your tits, kneading the muscle and increasing the pleasure you were feeling. his right hand twitched and you knew he wanted to move it.

“choke me, nico, please,” tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as you requested something that no other lover would oblige to.

“fuck me baby,” his thrusts slowed down and he leant back. his abs rippled as the thought went through his mind. “hit the mattress three times if it’s too much baby.”

you nodded once more and his hand wrapped itself around your neck. he started thrusting again and the slight restriction of air heightened the feeling of nico’s cock hitting you everywhere it needed to, the way his public bone rubbed against your clit and the callouses on his fingers from his training.

it took him a few minutes to get back up to full speed but when he was there, neither of you could stop. moans left both of your mouths and you didn’t know how someone could make you feel as amazing as he did.

“come for me,” nico instructed and you followed. your eyes rolled back in your head as he caused you to see stars and smell colours. his grip on your neck loosened as you felt him twitch inside you before he leant over you and pressed his lips to yours. his hips thrusted for a final time before you felt him coat your walls with warm liquid.

“i like you so much better with my hand around your throat,” nico whispered in your ear. “significantly less shit is being spouted.”

“if you like it so much,” you replied, trying to keep as much sass in your voice as you could. it wasn’t much because nico pulled himself out of you and settled between your legs again. “why don’t you do it again?”

[alexendria-rose]

I have a request

Can we see a submissive Stephen Strange story?

Like what you see?~

Stephen Strange X Reader

Warnings: PURE SMUT!! UNHOLY anyways; p in v, choking, sub Stephen with a hint of dom him, cock sucking, cussing.

Summary: Stephen comes back whining about work, and Y/n has the perfect idea to forget why he was whining in the first place-well whining about that certain situation...

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Did I ever mention how much I loath Thanos?” Stephen huffs walking into their shared room at the Sanctum. Y/n looks up from her book to look at Stephen eyebrows knit together.

“My love, I think everyone hates him.” She laughs softly placing the book down on the side table before criss crossing her legs on the bed.

“Yeah but I really hate him, wong as sorcerer supreme! That was my spot.” He says plopping himself on his lovely girlfriend’s lap. Y/n rolls her eyes playing with his hair making sure not to mess it up so much.

“So you’re mad at Thanos because of that?” She just giggled leaning back against the bed. He looks up at her with puppy dog eyes.

“Yes.” He states his eyes fluttering close as she massages his head. Y/n laughed softly.

“Oh poor baby, I’m so sorry the blip affected you getting sorcerer supreme.” She fake pouted, Stephen sees right through that groaning and rolling his eyes.

“I don’t feel comforted.” He mumbles moving his eyes away from her as he pouts. Oh people would absolutely died laughing if they found out how soft Stephen was in front of her.

"Oh do you want to feel comforted? I have a few ideas in mind." She says softly tracing his lips a small smirk planted on her face. Stephen grins moving his hand to trace her wrist.

"I do like the sound of that." He mumbles his eyes never leaving hers. She bites her lower lip leaning foreword before capturing his lips with hers in a heated passion. He groans from the taste of her lips a slight whimper escaping his mouth. Y/n just smirks against his lips moving her hands to cup his cheeks, moving her body to straddle him instead- his back against the bed. He goes to grip her hips, she pulls back from the kiss grabbing his wrist.

"Nope, I didn't say you can touch me sweetheart." She smirks, his eyes widen at her comment, feeling himself get a hard at her words. She quirks an eyebrow at him, the smirk never leaving her face. "Oh are you excited for me Mr. Strange?" He takes a shattered breath nodding his head slowly.

"I need you, really badly." He was able to choke out. Her hands making its way down to his shirt(luckily he wasn't wearing his normal outfit) she brushes her fingers teasingly against his skin noticing his breath hitching at the contact. She pulls his shirt off, watching his chest rise and fall. She connects her lips on his chest his breath wavering slightly as she moves her lips down near his lower stomach just above his pants. "F-Fuck." He gasped out, she knew he was sensitive right here so she drew it out more by creating love bites on his lower stomach. He wanted to grip her hair so bad, but also wanted to obey her by not touching her, letting her work her magic on him. She slowly unbuttons his jeans before sliding them down his legs. She looked down at the bulge begging to come out of his boxers.

"Awh look at you, its basically begging me." She taunts flicking her tongue. He swallows hard his Adams apple bobbing.

"Please, I need you." He begs his eyes begging and full of want. She moves her hands to his underwear band before pulling them off, his cock flinging out as soon as she does. She could basically already see the pre-cum leaking out. She just smiled moving her head down, her eyes never leaving his.

"I give you permission to touch my head but that's it." She murmurs before using her mouth to take him whole. He brings his hands to her hair gripping on it softly but his body shuddered under her; his hips slightly bucking at the wetness of her mouth.

"F-Fuck." He sputters his mouth going dry from the way he kept his mouth opened. He whimpered lightly at the way she swirled her tongue around his length and the way she hollowed her cheeks in. She began to move her head up and down his length to create more friction. He groaned and moaned loudly at the way she took him with such ease and grace. He felt himself so close to the edge his grip on her hair tugging on it harder, instead she pulls her head back wiping her mouth, he whined at the lost of contact. She just chuckles.

"Mr. Strange be patient. Don't you want to cum in me?" She smirked standing up from the bed removing her shirt and pants revealing her lace bra and underwear knowing this was most likely going to happen. His eyes move up and down her body, his eyes never leaving out a inch of it. "You like what you see?" She taunts crawling on top of him. He just nods watching the way she crawled back on top of him. "Well since you like it so much-" She moves her panties off to the side before sliding herself down onto his cock. He groaned his head rolling back as his hips bucked up which let out a moan out of her lips.

"F-Fuck so perfect." He choked out, his eyes traveling back to her chest, the push up in the bra making her breast look fantastic to view. God lace looked so good on her- he thought. She just grinned adjusting to his length before moving her hips and down. His moans and whimpers becoming louder. "G-God oh my fuck." He grunts out his eyes rolling back at the way she felt so good to him, wet and tight just for him.

"See? Who would want to cum in a mouth, when you've got this tight pussy just for you." She says dissolving herself in the pleasure fluttering her eyes close as soft moans escape her lips.

"S-Shit Y/n." He moves his hands to her hips gripping on them so tightly his hands turn white from the grip. She chuckles not moving his hands knowing herself she enjoyed the touch. She moves her hands down to his throat her hands wrapping around it softly, as she started moving her hips faster.

"Fuck me like I'm the only pussy you want." She moans out as soon as those words left her mouth, his grip on her hips tightens before thrusting himself up in her deeper groaning every time he hit her G-spot. She gasped out at him hitting just the right spot, the sound of slapping skin bouncing off the walls. She feels herself tighten around him-very close to her edge.

"C-Can I cum, please?" He begs his eyes gazing at hers, she bites her lip to stop the whimpers coming out seeing Stephen this sub and soft in front of her made her so weak and her pussy tighten as she thought about it.

"F-Fuck." She whimpers out nodding out a quick yes. He moves his hips faster until he reaches his climax, her following swiftly feeling his warm seed enter her, his body shaking and shuddering underneath her. She rides out his orgasm before removing herself off of him flopping herself next to him, feeling her legs just shake slightly. She hears him chuckle deeply.

"Wow." He murmurs out turning his body to face her propping his elbow up before resting his hand on his palm, his eyes traveling up and down her body. She just smiles brightly.

"Your such a good boy." She smirks winking at him. He growls lowly.

"Keep it up baby girl, and I'll show you who can also be such a little sub." He smirk moving his hand to smack her ass. She gasped at the contact whining softly. "Exactly my point." He lifts her chin with his index finger. "Now I won't say I didn't enjoy that, but you are the only living soul that can know that." She gulps lightly nodding, the dominance slowly fading away. He smirks' lightly.

"Good girl."

[cr4yolaas]

mezzo forte — non-confrontational

track 7: pity party | masterlist | track 9: homesick v.2

heavy, purple bags weigh his eyes down. it's the first thing she notices when she swings open the door with a little too much force. he's exhausted, that much made obvious by the droopiness on his face and the unkempt nature of his hair. for a moment, she forgets why she came there.

he doesn't make a move to let her in. instead, he rests the entirety of his weight on the doorframe, the old painted wood creaking ever so slightly beneath the pressure. it's as if her presence is a hindrance to him. her feet plant themselves on the floor in retaliation to his foreign detachment, and slowly, the confusion and anger that motivated her visit come crawling back in the form of pinpricks clinging onto her spine.

"hajime," she mutters, and the forgoing of his usual nickname makes him falter just a bit. "what happened that night? at the reunion party?"

he shifts his stance from one leg to the other. he doesn't know what to say.

"you and tooru have ignored me since, and it- i don't know, i just feel lost. i don't know what happened. and i hate that both of you are hiding it from me," she rambles, and he can tell she's upset.

truthfully, he's horrified. he doesn't want to tell her the truth -- if it even is the truth -- but he knows that nothing will happen if he doesn't say anything.

"who have your songs been for this whole time?" he asks, his voice cracking and his hands shaky. the creases on her forehead only increase tenfold, and he's scared. a heavy sigh falls from her lips.

"it's always been you, haji," she heaves out, unloading a burden that had hung heavy on her shoulders for years upon years. "they were all for you. i don't- i don't understand how you didn't see it. and i feel stupid for not making it more obvious."

he pauses. his mouth hangs agape and with every shallow breath he takes, a bit of his pride and confidence seeps out. disbelief weighs heavily in his heart and overpowers every other rational sense that's kept him going for so long.

"it can't be me. it really, really can't."

it comes out as a whisper, his words nearly lost to the gentle summer breeze. she hears it as a rejection -- an admission that she cannot write syrupy, silly melodies for him, because he cannot satisfy the sickly sweet sensation rotting her heart. she loathes how aloof he seems to be about it.

something bubbles up within her throat. she's scared that, if she so much as breathes another breath, she'll say something she doesn't mean. so, instead, with an ache in her chest and a pounding in her head, she walks away -- because she cannot bear to face the end of the road that she's been running on for so long.

he doesn't chase after her, nor does he depart from the scene. hajime maintains his posture against the door. guilt gnaws violently at the sinew between his bones and every ligament that ensures his stability, and he swears he can feel the pitter-patter of his heart diminish into something slow and scattered.

hajime is terribly non-confrontational when it comes to her -- that much had been a consistent truth since they met, in their little suburban neighborhood at the unripe age of 7 -- and he curses his own weakness for destroying what he'd been holding onto so desperately.

♪ i’m lowk rushing thru this bc i’m too eager to end mezzo forte i’m sorry 😭😭 i love it but i canr wait for it to end if that makes sense

♪ yn got nothing done in the whole week of no contact with the other two. she was quite literally paralyzed with fear she couldn’t finish any of her work

♪ yachi thrives on severe retail therapy habits if u couldnt tell

♪ msby 4 was lowk listening from the hallway they love the chismis but also they r actually invested in this relationship

♪ i think we might get the triple update tn 😭😭

taglist: @zumicho @causenessus @guitarstringed-scars @yuminako @chemiru @sunnyskiezzzz @httpsivy @itsdragonius @theycallmenanamisgirl @wyrcan @19calicos @hunnies4bunnies @mawenskiblue @diorzs @loverlunaire @mfcherry @solaqes @myromanempiree @brithedemonspawn @corvid007 @lilchubbyyy

[deakyjoe]

Southern Charm

Pairing: Phillip Graves x Reader (afab, she/her, use of “girl”)

Category: smut

Summary: You’re supposed to hate him but you just can’t resist that southern charm.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected p in v sex (one day I’ll get characters to use a condom), creampie, vaginal fingering, biting, grinding/dry humping, thigh riding, pet names (good girl, naughty girl, darlin’), praise & degradation kink, quickie, cum eating, slight choking, Graves is a bit of a dick but we love him, slight dom!Graves, slight sub!Reader, slight slut-shaming, jealousy

Word count: 3k (how did that happen?)

A/N: That’s my pookie. He can do no wrong. He has committed many atrocities. I want him to wreck me.

Consider buying me a coffee :)

You didn't know how you'd ended up here.

Well, you did. But you were in denial.

You knew you were supposed to dislike him, considering the rest of the team did. Slimy. Untrustworthy. Suspicious. Creepy. Dodgy. Sinister. Menacing. Sly. All words that had been used to describe the man. And you agreed with every single one of them but just couldn't find it in yourself to feel the same way they did, and maybe that did make you loathe him a little. How was he so irresistible to you?

He had just waltzed in, all charming smiles and inviting voice, and expected to take over the whole operation. Bastard. But when he looked at you, you couldn't help the heat that would crawl to the surface of your skin and make you yearn for him, crave his touch. And you knew he felt the same.

You’d been exchanging meaningful glances for weeks, full of tension and future promises. Yet neither of you dared to act on it for a while, knowing it was too risky. But sometimes things just have a way of happening.

But when you’d been walking down one of the many hallways on base, him just a few paces behind you, you couldn’t help but slip into the nearest room with a quick glimpse back at him. It had taken him less than ten seconds to burst through the door after you.

So that's how you'd ended up being pushed against a wall with his knee between your legs and his tongue in your mouth. A quickie in a tiny storage room with someone you weren't supposed to like was not your style. But maybe today it was. It had to be because this was all you had.

"Shit." You cursed when one of his warm hands snaked under the hem of your shirt, and curled around your waist, and the other reached up to squeeze your breast through it.

Graves only smiled against your mouth, enjoying the effect he was having on you. It was only further proof of what he already knew.

But your mind kept straying to the door of the room that was very much unlocked, considering there was no way to bolt it from the inside, and the fact that anyone could walk in at any moment if they chose to. What would your team say if they caught you like this with him? The shame was almost too much to bear.

"We should stop." You mumbled against his mouth, making no effort to get away and actually just pulling him tighter against you instead. One of your fists gripped the fabric of his shirt and the other curled around the back of his neck and into his hair. You were insatiable.

He knew you didn't want to stop. Neither did he. "Mhm, sure."

He kissed you harder.

You let him.

"We could get caught." You said, during your next pause for air. Rational thought was escaping you fast and you knew you had to at least pretend that you cared that this was wrong.

"Nobody comes in here. Just girls like you waiting to get fucked."

You pushed on his chest, breaking the kiss. "I didn't think you'd follow me."

You did.

"Bullshit." He laughed. "I've seen the looks you've been giving me, darlin'. I know."

You frowned at him, defiant nature kicking in. He was too cocky for your usual taste no matter how attractive you found him. Perhaps it even made him more attractive to you. "Know what exactly?"

His eyes sparkled. "How much your pussy aches for me."

He wasn't wrong. And you hated that. Hm, maybe you did despise him a little.

He saw the look of embarrassment flash across your face and could only laugh. "It's alright. Do you know how hard you make me?"

It was pressed up against you so, yes, you knew very well. But you bit your bottom lip and shook your head anyway. And he was all too enthusiastic to take one of your hands and guide it down to his crotch so you could palm his hardened length through his clothing.

"Fuck." Graves groaned at your touch, head dropping and eyes squeezing shut for a moment.

You giggled, liking how easy this was even though he'd been the one teasing you a moment ago. "You like that, Commander?"

His head snapped back up again, playful look back on his face as he pushed his whole body up against you further. It got to a point where the only way for the two of you to be any physically closer would be if you were to remove your clothes. And you certainly weren't doing that in an unlocked storage room on base.

"Naughty girl." He mumbled, craning his neck to trace his lips over your jawline. “Calling me by my rank. You like that sort of thing?” He lifted the knee between your legs up higher when you nodded so it pushed against you harder, making you whimper in pleasure. "You do this often?"

"Do what?" Your brain was too fuzzy from what he was doing to you to properly comprehend whatever he was talking about. It probably didn't help that you shifted your hips to start grinding against his thigh.

"Send wicked glances to all your higher ups and then fuck them in closets? You a barracks bunny, hm?" One of his hands slid to the belt on your jeans, undoing the fastening slowly. Too slowly.

"I don't work for you. You're not my higher up." You pulled his face away from your neck and tugged him down to kiss you again, wanting to shut him up. But you couldn't deny that what he was saying was turning you on even more. You weren’t interested in sleeping with your team or anyone else on base but his implication of it was… slightly exciting to say the least.

"Oh, darlin'... you know you'd submit to me easy enough. All I gotta do is ask."

You definitely despised him. Despised the fact that he could read you so well. To be fair, you hadn't really tried to hide your interest in him. You were sure he'd known since the first moment you laid eyes on him. If it were possible, you were sure he would've been able to see your eyes blown wide with immediate lust and the heat that pooled in your lower abdomen. He just really did it for you. Maybe it was the accent, maybe it was the hair, maybe it was the scar, maybe it was the over confident nature. Whatever it was, he just clicked right for you.

"You're such a dick, Graves." You finally replied, breathless and about two seconds away from pushing his hand fully into the front of your jeans if he didn't speed things up.

“Yeah, but you like it.” He chuckled, moving his attention to the finger that had finally reached your clit and was providing the much needed stimulation you’d been thinking about since you’d first met him.

“Shit, fuck.” You gasped, head falling back to hit the wall.

Graves huffed at your groan of pain and used his free hand to hold the back of your head in order to prevent any other injuries. How sweet and out of character for him. But you didn’t question it, just thankful that he didn’t seem to want you to give yourself a concussion.

His hand slipped down further. “Goddamn, you’re wet for me. Huh, darlin’? Didn’t know you were that desperate.”

Your eyes rolled back when he slid a finger into you. It was almost humiliating how easy it happened, how wet you were from so little.

“Oh, my god.” You squeaked, clutching onto his shoulders and moving your hips to grind against his hand.

“I will be your god soon enough, I can promise you that.” Graves’ hand moved with you, knowing exactly what you needed to make you feel good.

“Shut up.” You sighed, not really caring what he had to say anymore. You were about one orgasm away from agreeing with anything he had to say. That was dangerous territory. But you were sure it would pass once you had this, had him, out of your system.

“I mean it. Gonna ruin you for all other men. You’ll only ever think about me after this.” His forehead furrowed as he watched his wrist disappearing in and out of the waistband of your jeans, fully concentrated on that.

You wanted to disagree but you could already feel it happening. It didn’t help that you were already so attracted to him. But if he made you come? Then you were screwed. Literally and metaphorically.

When he added a second finger to the mix, crooking them inside of you to meet that sweet spot and the heel of his hand grinding against your clit at every little movement, you knew every sane thought was lost for the near future.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You babbled, nails digging into his shoulders to drag him down to meet your mouth again. It was all teeth and tongues, technique abandoned in your ecstasy, and you could feel him holding back a smile against you. Always so fucking smug.

“Come on, darlin’. Be a good girl and come for me.” He mumbled against your cheek after the kiss was broken.

The use of good girl did it for you.

Your hips rocked against his hand wildly as your orgasm washed over you, desperately trying to chase the high even further.

Graves guided you through it, trailing kisses up and down the skin of your neck as well as the area of chest and collarbone that was left exposed by the neckline of your shirt. “Good girl, that’s it. Such a good fucking girl for me, hm?”

You whimpered when he pulled his hand out of your jeans, and his fingers out of you, and planted a kiss on your lips as a reward for coming. You didn’t really understand the logic as you thought you should be rewarding him for making you come but you weren’t going to complain if that worked for him because it was certainly working for you.

He licked the essence of you from his fingers, moaning at the taste. “So sweet.”

You could only watch with hooded eyelids, both from exhaustion and arousal.

When he kissed you again, you could taste the remnants of you on his mouth and you just pulled him impossibly closer. You knew he wasn’t done with you yet, his hard cock being pressed against you was evidence enough of that.

When he broke away, his eyes flitted over your face. “Knew you’d be easy. Didn’t know it’d be this easy.”

Your nose scrunched. It was things he said like that that made you know that you should like him a whole lot less. “What made you think I’d be easy?”

He beamed that dazzling grin. “My good looks and outstanding personality.”

"Been using the southern charm on me, huh?"

His eyebrows raised. "It's been working, hasn't it?"

"Confident." You scoffed.

"Only because you came on my fingers less than two minutes ago." He reminded you, smug smile plastered across his face. "Thought that was a telltale sign, darlin'."

You grunted and nodded at him, hands falling to unbuckle his belt.

“Eager?”

“Horny.”

He laughed again and pulled your own jeans and underwear down to the ground, the cold air making you gasp.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You asked, gaze flicking to the door.

“How’d you expect me to fuck you if you got jeans on?” He glanced up at you from where he was crouched down.

“Good angles and a little effort.” You replied but still kicked them off of your ankles.

“Can’t do this if clothes are in the way.” He stated as he stood up straight again, each hand swooping behind your thighs and lifting you in the air so your legs could wrap around him and your back rested against the wall. “This a good angle for you?”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“And enough effort?”

You nodded again. “Yes, Commander.”

He shook his head in amusement. “Good.”

And he kissed you again, pushed fully up against you to use his own body to keep yours up. Your hands tangled in his hair, nails scratching at his scalp and fingers tugging on his roots. His hips rutted against yours and you laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“Just fuck me already, Graves.” You whispered, trailing one hand down the length of his torso.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Pushing his jeans down a couple of inches was enough to free himself from the confines of his clothes. He pumped himself a few times before pausing, eyes snapping up to meet yours.

“Shit.”

“What?” You asked, confused.

“I haven’t got a condom. Do you?”

You laughed. “Yeah, I just carry them around with me with the rest of my gear.”

“Shit.” He looked disappointed.

“Easy, Commander.” You said, brushing a hand through his hair to make him calm down for a second. “I’m on birth control, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He visibly relaxed. “Thank, god.”

“No, thank me.”

The flirtatious smile returned to his face. “And how’d you want me to do that?”

“I think you know.”

With a quick nod of confirmation between the two of you, he placed his tip against your entrance.

You held your breath.

And he exhaled heavily when he pushed into you steadily. “Fucking… fuck.”

“Yeah.” You replied, eyes fluttering shut and head falling forward to meet his shoulder.

“Darlin’, you’re so…” He trailed off but you got the idea.

“You too.” You turned your head to suckle on a spot on his neck.

He liked that.

His hips slammed into yours. “Jesus! You gotta warn me. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Sorry.” You weren’t. In fact, as you said it, you moved to graze your teeth against his jawline.

Graves grabbed you by the side of your neck and forced you back to look at him. “You not gonna be a good girl and listen to me?”

“I’m sorry.” This time you were. But only to hear him call you a good girl again.

The hand on the side of your neck curved to meet your cheek, his thumb running against your lower lip. “I wasn’t joking earlier. Are you the barracks bunny around here?”

Fury burned in your chest, a scowl crossing your features.

Graves laughed. “Oh. Upset you, did I?”

"Fuck you." You hissed, venom in your voice and lust in your blood.

A smirk tipped up the corners of his mouth as he leant in to whisper in your ear. "You already are."

And with that, he pulled out of you before pushing back in again. An embarrassingly loud moan tumbled from your mouth.

Graves chuckled. “How am I not supposed to assume you’re the resident slut when you get off fucking your commander in a closet?”

“Not a slut. Not my commander.” You replied, rolling your hips against his as best as you could.

“Hmm… You fuck your lieutenant then? Or your captain? Tell me, what’s Price like in the sack?”

The loathing you were supposed to feel for him grew more and more by the second. But so did the want. You wondered if he was jealous. Which would explain why he was pressing you about whether you’d slept with the other members of the team.

“Haven’t fucked Price.” You responded, a jolt in your voice as he pounded into you.

“What about the rest of your team, hey? Or anyone else around here?”

You were frustrated. “Fuck! None of them, okay? Just you.”

He loved that answer. “Just me?”

“Yes, just you.”

He kissed you. “Good.”

You whined against his lips, sweat starting to glisten on the surface of your skin and the wet sounds of him pushing in and out of you filling the room. You were sure that if anyone were to walk past the room, too close to the door, that they’d be able to hear the two of you. And they’d certainly be able to smell if they were to come in after the two of you had left. The air smelt distinctly of sex.

The hand on the side of your neck fell to move between you, the thumb that was previously teasing your bottom lip now eagerly circling your clit.

Graves watched your face intently to take in every minor reaction you gave him. And when you crashed into your second orgasm, he swallowed your moans with a firm kiss. Only pulling away again to whisper sweetly in your ear. “Good girl. That’s my good girl.”

The feeling of you clenching around him did it for him as well as he slowed down slightly before he twitched inside of you and pumped you full of him.

“Fuck, darlin’.” He grumbled as he rested his forehead against yours for a few moments before gently lowering you back down to the ground. His arm wrapped around your waist when you stumbled on shaky legs. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” You replied, steadying yourself against the wall and sending him a short smile.

He nodded and tucked himself back away in his jeans before helping you to get yours back on. When that was done, and you’d flattened his hair as much as you could after tousling it up as much as you did, you just looked at him awkwardly. You could feel him dripping out of you and making a mess of your underwear.

He didn't strike you as the romantic type so it surprised you when he leaned in and gave you, what could only be described as, a very tender kiss. You figured it was his version of aftercare. It was surprisingly nice. You'd take it.

He pulled away and looked at the wall over your head. “Go take a shower and clean up.”

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Not going to join me?”

“You wish.” He snickered. “No, I was supposed to meet Price in his office ten minutes ago.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “What?”

Graves shrugged. “Got distracted.”

You could only smile back at him in disbelief as he sent you one last cocky smirk and sauntered out of the room.

Yeah, his southern charm worked. You definitely didn’t hate him.

A/N: hope you enjoyed <3