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tremendum · 1 year

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Mr. Miller’s House

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her, use of the word girl)

rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)

word count: 7.6k requested: yes summary: “Joel was a mean, mean man. and you eat it up like a woman starved for months.” warnings: mentions of food/eating, drinking alcohol, age gap (unspecified), Jackson era, Ellie gets a splinter, Joel is honestly rude to Ellie in this and reader is judgy about Joel’s parenting practices lol. but really, this is just filthy smut (PiV, unprotected), dirty talk, sir kink, use of the word slut a LOT, one use of the word bitch, humiliation/degradation, hints of masochism, choking, exhibitionism, public smut, rough sex, dom!Joel, mean joel, lots of fighting/anger, cumplay, dirty talk, ass spanking, pussy spanking, mentions of blood (reader gets scraped knees), throat/facefucking, rough oral (m!receiving), overstimulation, dacryphilia, multiple orgasms. lmk if i missed any please lmfao

notes: okay jesus fucking christ!!! i wrote this so fasst lol but it was fun and highly requested. hope yall like it. as always reblogs/asks/comments are always great motivations :’) this is not reread because as i have said before im lazy and INSANE!

[this is a sequel to Mr Miller. part three other Joel fics: fever landmines ]

★

this was a mistake. you shouldn't have done this....this was a terrible idea.

fuck.

the chair is stiff beneath you. there's a hard coolness about it that is welcomed on the skin of your bare legs, the shorts you wear helpful in the heat of summer but futile against the slick of sweat that sheens your skin. the chair is hard, but yet still strong, sturdy.

you swallow dryly, heart beating fast. it's the same chair you sat at just a few weeks ago, signing the log with Joel leaning over your shoulder, before he-

you look away, around, anywhere in order to avoid the memories, hot and boiling and clawing at your mind and suffocating you until you stop breathing- and then your eyes settle, they glue themselves across the kitchen table.

they glue themselves to him.

fuck.

Joel's already staring at you; his lips are downturned in that permanent grimace he always sports, the muscles of his torso rigid with immobility - perhaps he thinks if he's still enough, the ground will just swallow him whole and he won't have to do this.

you yearn for that escape as much as he does.

then, out of the silence; "see, this isn't so bad."

speak for yourself, Ellie.

both heads in the room turn to the speaker slowly, the girl watching between the two of you, more than willing to ignore the obvious disdain in the air. she's grinning like a damn devil.

this girl's going to kill you.

it is that bad, contrary to Ellie's statement.

it'd been days of her begging you, with a tug on the hand, a punch to the shoulder, and countless pleads and threats until you finally caved in and accepted her proposal to have her and Joel over for dinner.

no matter how much you detest her guardian, you just can't resist those big puppy-dog eyes, or that gigantic, youthful smile.

for the last few months, Ellie has grown to be quite the little farmhand for you; though you like to keep to yourself on your days in the gardens, it was nice to have the girl buzzing around you and the other gardeners, pollinating each person she sees with questions like what really happens in germination and is this ripe? can I pull it?

it's cute, how excited she is to show Joel all of the crops you've grown with her in the last few months. but what isn't cute, is that it's him that has to be here. of all people, why did Joel have to be the one Ellie chose as her father?

because.... things weren't okay between you and Joel.

you're not sure if you were childish for expecting for him to warm up to you after - well, after the time he bent you on this table and fucked you stupid - but you hadn't been prepared for the coldest shoulder you've ever gotten in your measly life for the last few weeks.

it didn't help that the summer was kicking up and you needed more crops than ever for the commune; your patrolling had dwindled into maybe one or two every week or so, usually with Maria - so you didn't have to face Joel, really, at all.

but he avoided you like the plague when in town or on your street (though, he did that with everyone) and even at the Tipsy Bison, where your presence would clean him from the room before a drop of condensation could even slide down his glass of whiskey.

hell, maybe he even put a word in with Maria and Tommy that the last patrol together didn't go as planned; you'd even considered doing it at one point. you're not sure, but it just made you all the more irritated when you'd catch glimpses of their porch in the afternoons, Joel holding a guitar around Ellie's chest, chuckling as she strummed horribly. as if everything was okay. like you didn’t exist.

the anger and hatred grew awful.

it festered, grew when Maria mentioned off-handedly to Tommy that some woman, Dahlia, had taken a liking to Joel. you'd nearly shattered the glass you were holding in your fist at that; Joel, with Dahlia? that grumpy piece of shit, taking a liking to someone sweet and kind like her?

you ought to punch his fucking face.

you're zoned out when Ellie suddenly comes into your line of sight; reaching over your chest to grab a slice of the fresh bread you'd picked up earlier that day. you blink back into reality as Joel grunts, "E-Ellie, hey." he's shaking his head as he gestures to her arm, "use your manners."

he sounds almost embarrassed; annoyed. your mind betrays you as it whirls back; when Joel had you pinned down on this very table, commanding you in a different way, his eyes dark with delight as you cried and writhed for him.

but at his chastising, you send Ellie a sneaky look, rolling your eyes when Joel's looking down. the girl chuckles at that and an untrusting Joel stares daggers between the two of you. Ellie clears her throat with a smirk, "sorry. can you please pass me the bread?"

you grin, "why, yes, ma'am." you hand her the basket, "thank you for asking." you add to the girl on your right, your eyes on Joel's. he stares back harshly, hand grabbing for the glass of wine that sits in front of him.

another few moments of tension before Elie decided to take it upon herself to introduce as much of the food that sits on the table in front of you as she can remember.

peas, spinach, lentil and cabbage stew, beet salad, goat cheese and roasted carrots, cauliflower mash. fresh bread.

proteins from animals are scarce and are typically served in only the dining hall, so you decided to skip the meat and serve roasted artichoke instead. Joel doesn't look too thrilled about that as Ellie explains. you hide your scoff behind a sip of your dark wine.

"-and, look, I planted these beets." Ellie points to the bowl on the table which houses arugula and beet salad; you smirk down at the plate as Joel hums as if interested. his eyes flicker to yours from across the table as Ellie delves in on a tangent about how bloody beets look, those dark pupils flickering over your face before flitting back to the young girl. his eyes were swimming with something else, something.... seductive.

a shiver runs down your spine.

does he ever think about it?

you do. you think about it every night - how his hands felt, rough, unforgiving; the look on his face, that dark smirk when he'd made you beg for him to ruin you... the frenzy in his eyes when he'd ‘taught you some goddamn manners,’ when he'd taken you apart brutally and quick. Joel was a mean, mean man. and you eat it up like a woman starved for months.

your name calls you back to Ellie, whose eyes are wide and tracing over a rough, splintered notch in your table, "the hell is this from, is it-" her fingers jolt away at the rugged piece that slides into her skin, "shit!" she yelps, shaking her hand.

your brows furrow, rising to help her as Joel pulls her hand towards him. "I have tweezers." you mutter, disappearing into your bathroom to pull out your tweezers, returning to see Ellie smiling in embarrassment and Joel sitting with his arms crossed, amused irritation lacing his face. his beard is growing in more recently - you can hear the noise of the short bristles scratching his hand as he rubs his knuckles over his jawline.

nodding, pleased that Ellie's discomfort has subsided, you set your tweezers on your right, spearing some salad on your fork as silence cradles you three yet again.

it’s only tense and silent for a moment. then Ellie speaks, and it’s just tense.

"why is there a notch like that in your table?" she finally wheezes, as if she'd been summoned to be silent until she couldn't handle her curiosity anymore.

you don't have to look up to know that a pair of dark eyes pin you to your chair, daring you to say something about it.

your throat dries as you swallow your mouthful of salad, coughing a bit.

a rip in your flannel, the grazing of your soft skin with the blade. a hand pulling hard to dislodge the knife from its home against you; the thick slide of Joel as he drags his length through your destroyed, spent core.

"um- I-I" perhaps it's your panic, of the knowledge that his eyes are glued to you, but soon your eyes meet his; unwavering. "well. someone likes to threaten people when they can't find patrol logs."

"Joel!" Ellie hisses, smacking his arm, "you fucking stabbed her table and didn’t do anything about it?” she’s grinning.

"yeah, Joel," you smirk, swirling with desire as his hawkish gaze pins you to your chair, "you really should use your manners. you've ruined my table."

"shut the hell up right now." he snaps at you, hand slamming his fork down harshly onto the plate. you and Ellie both jump at the sternness in his voice.

you listen, for once.

and honestly, ten minutes ago feels like heaven compared to the tenseness of this silence.

several minutes go by, the sounds of scraping forks and knives and the meager attempts by you and Ellie to salvage a decent dinner conversation ringing soft in your kitchen.

at least you and her are trying.

you ignore the notch from the knife like a wildfire and pretend Joel isn't even with you; Ellie is more than enough life and laughter for you, and your playful disposition matches hers perfectly despite the joy-damper of a man sat across from you.

he's stewing. arms crossed, chewing on food here and then, mostly listening and sighing, brushing off Ellie's jabs or playful questions or stories. he won't do anything except eat and glare at you.

the wine bottle is nearly gone and you're not sure if it's his fault or yours. probably both.

you snap when he just outright ignores Ellie, shaking his head with a sigh and taking another bite. the audacity.

"-she asked you a question, Miller." you snap, fed up with his dissociative disposition. you don't even intend to say it; even Ellie looks up at your words, surprised.

his head turns to face you too slow to be safe. his eyes are fucking furious as he mutters, "excuse me?"

"hey, guys-" Ellie's hands are out in front of her, but you can't take your eyes off him.

"I'm just saying, you could at least try to pay attention." you spit, crossing your arms defensively, "we made this dinner, we're just trying to have a conversation, the least you could do-"

"you don't tell me what to do." he states, calm and cool, pointing at you. his nose flares as he breaths heavy, your own breath quickening. arousal rushes to your center and you shift on your seat.

"-listen, maybe this was a bad idea. I knew you weren't the best of friends, but this is-" Ellie starts again, eyes flickering between you both. "this is too awkward."

"no, Ellie, I'm sorry-" you start to say, breaking.

you don't want her to be caught in the cross-fire of your problems with Joel; it's unfair. the further this goes, the more she'll be put in a position of mediator, so you figure it should just end now.

"Ellie, go home."

Joel growls the demand, eyes looking to her, his hand falling gently to her shoulder. her eyes widen, as if asking him if he's serious.

"what?" she asks, "no! you'll-you’ll fucking stab each other or something."

yeah, you think. you might.

Joel's shaken off her shoulder but he's resilient, "go on, go see the kids for the movie. I'll come later. we just need to sort something out." he mutters, eyes falling to you at the tail end of his sentence.

shivers roll down your spine; fuck, fuck - a flood of arousal hits you again, and you swallow, willing the feelings to go the fuck away.

Ellie's scowling, but still has the decency to thank you for dinner before slamming the door hard on her way out of the threshold.

Joel's eyes stay locked with yours until her footsteps are gone.

it’s silent for a moment before he speaks.

"do not fuckin' disrespect me like that in front of her again." he snaps.

you narrow your eyes, "you're concerned that I- what, I undermined you in front of your girl?" you hiss incredulously. "come on, that's pathetic."

"I don't like you." he snaps, shoving his plate away from him in an almost childish act of defiance. it’s shocking, the immaturity of his words so sudden. barely prompted.

it's clear he intends to continue this little confessional of his, but you have no intention of allowing that.

you roll your eyes, "big fucking deal. what do you want me to say?" you hiss, "sorry that I was rude, Mr. Miller! let me just cook you fucking dinner and invite you over to make up for it."

his nostrils flare, "never wanted to do this in the first place." he mutters.

you nearly rip out your hair in frustration. "obviously you didn't! christ, why do you always act like everything you do is a goddamn chore?" you snap, "Ellie wanted to have a nice night and show you what we've been doing- what she's been doing for this community. and all you can do is sit here and act like a fucking asshole because you don't know how to enjoy anything. it's a miracle she's still around with you, when you treat her like that."

his jaw clicks in anger, "you have no fuckin' clue what we've been through together." his voice is close to a yell, "you don't know how much that girl means to me."

"then why won't you show her!?" you yell.

it quiets the room for a moment and a fleeting feeling of pride is squashed when he speaks again.

his brows raise, a look of realization creeping onto his face. he nods his head, "I see what this is," he lets out a bitter, mocking laugh. "you want me to tell you how much I love your food? y'trying to prove to me that you're not a bad influence on her, after all?"

you stare at him, anger clouding your sight; are there tears of frustration rimming your eyes? you hope he doesn't notice.

"-newsflash, darlin', I don't fucking care about you." he finishes, scowl dark. "you're a nuisance. don' know why Tommy took you in, anyways. you're a foul-mouthed, untrustworthy, pathetic little slut- and jus' because you can't stop thinking about my cock doesn't mean I owe anything to you. no dinner, no fuckin- cordial neighborly attitude, nothing."

thinking about- what?

oh, fuck him. your face burns; your jaw unhinges. of course he thinks this is about you and him. your eyes spare a quick, fleeting glance to the notch in the table before you glare, "well I don't fucking care about you either, Miller. don't be so fucking conceited."

he laughs, shaking his head as he downs the remainder of his wine before slamming the glass down, but you're not finished. you can't let him think he's won.

"you’re delusional. I haven't thought of it once." you spit, aflame at his accusation. you feel flustered, still caught off-guard. if anything, it was him who was obsessed with it - you see the way his eyes can't leave you; the way he adjusted his jeans earlier when you leaned over to pull a bowl from your cabinet.

"really?" he spits, brows raised. his chest moves with the exertion of your yelling and you resist the urge to hit him or stomp your foot or anything. "yes, really." you defend, face heating up under the scrutiny of his knowing gaze.

"anyone ever tell you you're an awful liar, sweetheart?" he drawls, raising his brows at you.

you fume, standing up, pointing to the door, "get the fuck out, Joel."

his eyes light ablaze with the same anger that rages in your heart as he stands, throwing his napkin on his plate, "gladly. food was great." he spits, storming out of the house with no other words.

your scowl doesn't leave your face for the entire rest of the night. what- what the fuck was that? how dare Joel assume so much about you- he doesn't know you, at all.

your eyes fall to the bottle in your hands.

ellie left her water canteen at your place. you were so angry, so mad earlier, that you hadn’t realized she’d left it until a few minutes ago.

she doesn't need it, right? she could get it next time she comes round. yeah. she'll get it next time, you don't have to go over. right?

no.

you have to go over.

the anger within you festers just as much as the slick that plagues the apex of your thighs in the aftermath of your spat with Joel; it's a vicious cycle where you think about his tone, how condescending it was and then you get mad - but some sick part of you wants it to consume you; wants him to consume you.

you’re fucking obsessed with him. you hate him.

you need to hear him yell at you again- if-if anything, to get your ten cents in on the argument, and also maybe to get some good content for your wet dreams tonight. jesus christ.

god, you're so fucked up.

christ.

so once you finish cleaning from the remnants of the meal, your legs are carrying you over to his house with Ellie's canteen in your hand before you can second-guess it.

what the fuck are you doing?

you're standing on their porch in mere seconds, your breath heavy with wrath. what if Ellie opens the door? well- you suppose, if she does, you'll give her the canteen and talk to her. probably apologize for acting the way you did. no business with Joel, then. yeah. that’s... that’s fine.

fuck. why do you want Joel to answer so terribly?

you know where the answer lies - a coiling beast of arousal, consuming and muddling your mind, just at the apex of your thighs.

Joel is a fucking asshole. you need him. now.

your knuckles slam so hard and unforgiving against their door that there is no possibility of them assuming it's anybody else but you at their porch. their light is flickering and dim above you as you stand, canteen in hand, eyes trained forward in determination.

the door swings open in an air of irritation.

your face jerks back as Joel Miller stands, staring at you with the disdain of a thousand lifetimes swirling around his eyes.

"y'here for more?" he snarks.

your momentary hesitation melts away when his words drip from his lips. a glare pierces him through the eyes when you shove the canteen into his hands, "I'm here for Ellie. she left this." you spit.

he lets out a chuckle, humor absent from the ring as he scratches his nose, "right." he mutters. "well she ain't home. went to the movie in town." he clips, setting the canteen on the table just inside the house. "y'need me to pass any more of your words of wisdom on to her?" he asks, voice clipped and prickled with sarcasm.

you glare. "yeah. just do me a favor, tell her I'm sorry her dad is being a hypocritical, neglecting asshole." you snark, sending a false smile up at him as he leans with his arms crossed at the doorway.

you don't miss how he leans into it, how he's not slamming the door on your face. he wants to argue, too. "-and you can suck a dick, Mr. Miller." you add, intending to whirl away on your heel.

he scoffs, a deep and condescending noise. "thanks for comin' all the way over to return a little canteen. g'night, darlin', hope you don't make too much'a mess when you cum all over that table again tonight thinkin' of how much I hate you. glad y'got your ten cents in."

your face burns hot in embarrassment, and at the irony of him using the same phrase you’d thought.

the door moves quick to shut, but your arm moves quicker.

your hand wedges is just before it shuts, leaving you far too close to Joel than you'd like - gunpowder, pine, and dark amber whiskey surround your senses. again.

so you shoot another fist forward, aiming for his left jaw; aiming for it to hurt.

he’s going to fucking hurt.

it doesn't make contact with the warm skin, though: no, his hand has caught your wrist in an iron-tight grip, wrenching your arm down hard.

you let out a gasp of surprise as he shoves you off of the door and away from him before you can blink.

but instead of the door slamming in your face, his rough hands are pushing you hard up against the side of his garage. the door behind him remains ajar as he pushes himself into your space, growling at you as your mouth falls open in shock.

"did you just try to hit me, girl?" he whispers, voice deadly serious. you swallow, arousal rushing down to your heat; you swear you can feel your heartbeat in your pussy as he stares hard at you, but your eyes trail down to his jeans.

you hide your smirk as you take in the stretch of the rough denim, the outline of his own arousal evident even in the dim light. he’s hard because you were going to hit him.

your body aches as you remember the stretch of him inside you, splitting you open. your eyes flicker back up to his where he breathes heavily, expecting a response.

you give him one.

"yes, but you already knew that." you smirk, cocking your head as you boldly gyrate your hips forward slightly, your clothed cunt clenching in desire as you graze his hard-on. "or are you not hard right now, Mr. Miller?" you purr, your voice laced with seduction.

his rough hand shoves your hips hard back against the wall, a growl slipping his throat. "y'got a dirty fuckin' mouth on you." his breath hits your cheeks in a warm reminder of the wine you'd both had for dinner.

"so it wasn't because of that?" you ask, blinking in a false sense of innocence, watching as his eyes swim with an animalistic hunger. you've got him right where you want him. "was it from thinking about me touching myself? or, from remembering the last time we were together in my house?"

his momentary lapse in recovery allows for you to go in for the final kill, "Mr. Miller,” you coo, “do you think of my pussy when you fuck Dahlia? d'you wish it was me?" you spit, smirking up at him as red splatters his furious features, "you can talk all you want, Mr. Miller, but I know you're just a greedy, desperate man who loves to pretend you have any power over me." you whisper into the shell of his ear, palm roughly grabbing the outline of his cock boldly.

his next movements take your breath away: the shock of his fists slamming hard against the wall on either side of your head makes you jump, and his hawkish, angry eyes bore into yours.

"get your fuckin' hands off of me. now."

his voice is... scary.

the blood leaves your head as your damp spot of your pants floods with desire, the fear spiking a real excitement in you. you are smart enough to follow his orders; the look in his eyes suggests you do so.

your hands shakily fly back from his crotch to hang by your sides as you stare up at him - nervous. excited, ready.

his eyes are narrowed, stern as his brows are furrowed low. the permanent scowl on his lips is intimidating as he holds your gaze with fierce intent. "you're gonna be real fuckin' honest with me, now. okay?"

you swallow dryly, staring up at his face, how he's boxed you in with arms on either side of your head. you feel cornered, small; prey, hunted by predator.

you nod smally, startled into silence, unable to speak as the ache between your legs becomes unbearable. your legs clench, searching for relief only to be disappointed at the dull sensation.

he stares at you for a few moments, unmoving except for the flaring of his nostrils and the rising of his chest as he breathes just as heavy as you.

"are you wet?"

your face flushes with heat. christ, Joel is going to kill you. (if you don't kill him first). your legs feel weak, desire driving your heart rate up as you nod meekly, voice cracking out. "y-yes."

he nods, seemingly pleased with your honesty.

"how long have you been walkin' round with ruined panties?" his head tilts down slightly, angled down at you as if chastising you. you flush in shame, genuinely taking a moment to remember the exact moment you first noticed your underwear dampen.

you can't admit to him that you woke up this morning with his name on your lips and a wet patch on the seat of your sleep shorts, can you? (and certainly not that it happens every day.)

"s-since-" you take a sharp inhale, glaring at him for humiliating you like this - outside, no less. anybody could walk past or look out their window and see Joel and you like this. "dinner."

his brows raise, the look darkening on his face. you can tell, he loves the beginning - the teasing, the arguing, the embarrassment - just as much as the end. "dinner? s'like, two hours." his frown immodest, tempting. judging.

you nod, biting back a snide comment about Joel being an excellent time-teller, your face burning in embarrassment as you break eye contact, staring at your feet.

"d’you like being a slut?" he asks, then. you nearly whimper at his words, the aching in your cunt burning, pulsing and clenching around nothing as you stare at him in desire. fuck Joel Miller.

"'m not a slut." you say, but the defiant words come out more as a whine than a sharp argument. one hand falls from the wall on your left to grip onto your jaw, holding your cheeks hard as he forces your eyes back up to him.

his nails dig into the soft flesh of your cheeks as you gasp, your own hands in fists as you resist pulling him into you.

"that's not what I fuckin' asked, now, is it?" he sneers. you blink up at him, shaking your head after a moment of contemplation. "no, sir." you whisper meekly. you don't miss the tightening of his grip at the honorific as it falls sultry from your lips. he hums.

"do you want me to touch you?" he asks next. you can't even have the decency to stop your whine as you nod, "yes, please."

his other hand falls from the wall, eyes just as angry and unforgiving as he undoes the button on your shorts single-handedly. "good. don't you fuckin' look away from my eyes, y'hear me? hands down, eyes up."

this is twice now that he hasn't let you touch him - your brows furrow, but just as he snaps in front of your face, you let the thought melt away.

"y-yes, sir." you nod, your palms sweaty, heart thundering as he shoves his hand down the front of your shorts, breaching your underwear easily as fingers slide through the deft curls that lie just above your heat.

"gotta warm y'up for me this time," he mutters, eyes sharp as he watches yours, ensuring they don't do as much as blink.

it's delicious, almost too much as two of his thick fingers part the seam of your lips, your wetness spilling and coating his fingers immediately. you burn in shame, thighs starting to close over his hand.

one ruddy, thick thigh slides to kick your leg to the side, widening your stance as he shoves you harder up against the side of the house. the tip of his finger prods at your aching hole, leaking with desperation for him.

there are crickets outside, a steady but low staccato of music filling the summer Jackson air as one finger slowly slides into you, curling unforgivingly as you gasp, rising on your toes as he stretches you. "fuck," you whimper, throwing your head back against the wall behind you.

the thud is dull, but it echoes around the street and it calls your attention to the very public space you're in.

"hey." Joel snaps, one hand swatting your cheek lightly as your eyes close, "don't look away."

you blink back at him as he pumps lazily for a few moments, watching your every micro-expression, the way your chest stutters with his motions. the noise of your arousal is humiliating against the pleasant summer breeze.

you can't help the low moan of his name when he adds a second finger. the stretch is nothing like when it's his cock inside of you, but the strokes, the curl of his fingers start to coax a simmering coil in you that you know will explode soon.

your eyes are still on his obediently when you nearly whisper it.

he hears it, though, and smirks, "what was that, darlin’?"

you groan in irritation but it splinters into a sharp moan when his fingers pick up their pace, fucking into you as you lie slack against the wall, legs trembling.

"just- fuck me. fuck me now." you wheeze, the desire a burning snake that coils around your chest and squeezes at your heart.

"no." he decides, eyes glaring, "can't have y'whining like a bitch again, darlin'. gotta open you up on my fingers first." the sting of his words are cushioned by the lust that swirls around his voice, the languid was his thick fingers pump up into you, holding you up against the frame of the house with a dark smirk.

you nod, hissing in stimulation when one finger slides to start rubbing your neglected clit with just enough pressure to curl your toes; your chest is slick with sweat, fingernails digging painfully into the meat of your palm as you hum, lips sealed tight to avoid yelping out.

your eyes flicker from his once more, scanning the street just feet away from you, paranoid of the possibility of a neighbor seeing you.

Joel notices, of course. "what, baby, don' want the neighbors to see?" he hums, eyes cutting into you as your face flushes with heat, "y'seemed to want everybody to hear me fucking you stupid last time, didn't 'ya?"

you groan, "fuck you, Joel."

his hand stops its ministrations just as cold ice pours down your spine. oh, shit.

his hand slides out of your pants, face furious.

you shake your head, eyes welling with tears; you hadn't meant for it to slip out like that. "n-no, wait, 'm sorry, didn't mean it." you whimper, voice choked with the loss of his hand.

he just huffs a cold chuckle, wiping his hand over his face, the other one glistening with your juices under the light of the porch.

your panicked, desperate babble of apologies is stopped with one look from him.

"get on your goddamn knees now."

you shiver with excitement, tears drying slightly as you swallow, complying quickly. the cement is rough and cold under your bare knees, your hands held still together on your thighs as you stare up at him in wait. he stands tall before you; the shroud of the flickering porch light emboldening him, making him look like a god - an unforgiving one, at that - as he pulls his thick, pulsing cock from his jeans.

your mouth waters as he starts to pump it languidly, the tip a red color from arousal, leaking precum.

he doesn’t have to ask you to open your mouth for him, your own desire to taste him spurring you to stick your tongue out flat in wait for his dick.

"I'm going to ask you again." he says, tapping your tongue with the weight of his length, the slapping noise flooding your underwear as you ache to feel him again. "do you like being a slut?"

you swallow, tongue sliding along the bottom of his head as you do, muttering a slight, "yes, sir."

"'s right. you love being my slut." he nods, your mouth open and ready for him as he thrusts his whole length into your wet, warm mouth; you gag almost immediately, his hips unforgiving as he immediately starts to fuck into your throat. you try your best to breathe through your nose, gagging as his tip pokes the back of your throat - you know there'll be a bruise that will make it painful to eat, drink, speak - you fucking love it.

he lets out a grunt of arousal, nodding as his hands gather your hair from your face, gripping your cheeks and pushing your head back against the side of the house.

two thrusts, a few tears from your eyes as you choke, your lungs burning for air.

he pulls away, you suck in air with a strangled gasp. your saliva links you to his heavy cock, a chain that holds you in his grasp. "tell me you love being my slut."

you burn at his words and in your brief hesitation, his cock is slapping at your mouth, his impatience bleeding through his actions.

"I-" your voice is wrecked after only a few seconds of him in your mouth, but you swallow as you gasp for air, "I l-love being your slut."

he slides himself through your slick lips again, hips a punishing pace as he fills up your mouth, your throat tight and wet. his groan echoes through the street; in the corner of your eye, you swear you see a light turn on in a bedroom window. shivers of desire run through you as you resist the urge to touch yourself.

you can't breathe; your nose brushes against the course hair at the base of his shaft, the scent of him surrounding you as his hips try to smash you against the side of the house.

he holds you there, hands rough on your cheeks, slapping your right cheek as it bulges with his length. you choke, gagging as you try your hardest to keep eye contact. his face is harsh, his sneer cold as he stares at you, "'s right, choke on your fuckin' words, darlin'." his hips press forward slightly and you cough around him, it's too much - tears slide down your cheeks as you try not to gag more.

"you gonna disrespect me again?" he asks, tilting his head as spit trails down your chin, tears meeting the trail of saliva as it drips down onto your chest.

you can only hum a nuh-uh around his cock, hoping it's enough to satisfy him. you feel yourself throb and fucking burn with need, your knees sore from the cement under you.

you cough and sputter when he pulls himself away from you, mouth sore, jaw aching and throat wrecked. his eyes flicker over to the house across the street before he grips your shoulder, tugging you in your aroused, dazed state up to your legs.

"oh, darlin', you're bleedin'." he coos at you, thumb swiping your cheek as you stand up. he's right: your knees are just scratched enough to speckle the skin with dark splotches of blood. you feel a tingling sensation of arousal as he hums, "let's get you inside, hm?"

you stumble to keep up as he storms through the threshold of the house, the door swinging shut after your shaking frame falls inside. it's dark; there is only one lamp turned on in the other room.

Joel is almost a shadow as he surrounds you, your hands falling onto his large, stiff shoulders as he pushes you against the door frame.

your legs give out from desire soon and the two of you tumble to the ground, a mess of grunts and shoves, tearing at clothes as you whimper in desire, his own lustful groans echoing the empty house. as his pants are shucked off and your shorts are thrown across the room, your hips are shoved and flipped over until you're ass-up for him, one of his large hands moving roughly to grab a handful of your plush behind.

your hands and knees ache, but you wiggle your ass slightly in need, not daring to speak to him. the anger that radiates from the two of you is a grenade; you can feel the tension bubbling behind your desire and so you just move back until you brush against his hard length, the fabric of your panties completely soaked as you grind against him.

his moan echoes as a hand falls hard to slap against the skin of your ass. you let out a strangled yell, the pain stinging through you as you keen forward. you know there will be a handprint branded into you, you know it'll be sore to sit and you'll have to think of him each time. he'll consume you for days.

you love it.

his fingers tease the wet material that's glued to your pussy with desire, tracing over your lips lightly over the fabric. "pretty cunt, just for me." he mutters; you shake with desire when you realize it was more a mutter for him than an intentional phrase for you to hear.

"think you're ready for me, baby?" he grunts, his fingers pulling your underwear to the side, exposing your puffy, glistening cunt to him.

"I'm so re-ready sir, please, fuck me." you beg, reduced yet again to nothing but a writhing mess for the worst man you know.

he gives no warning, no teasing - he breaches you swiftly and rough. you scream.

it cracks, it echoes, it's painful as you yell out, his cock heavy and huge and aching as he slides into you, sheathing you fully within a few seconds. Joel's moan reverberates on your skin as his hands grip so hard at your ass you think his fingers will remain there for days.

he immediately sets a pace that has you squirming under him, breath choking up in your chest as you slide against the hardwood. the smell of the house is Joel - sandalwood, whiskey, pine. sex.

your arms are tugged roughly.

panic rises in you when you think you're about to slam your face against the floor, but as Joel pounds hard into you, he pulls your hands tight to your back, holding you up to you're suspended with just his cock working you open can keep you from falling.

it's bliss. it's sharp, this angle; he hits into that spongy spot inside you as his cock drags against your pulsing walls, your hands clenching as your breath leaves you.

one hand sneaks over your front, grasping at your tits as he reaches up into you deeply. then it snakes lower, rocking you forward as he swats at your clit, the sharp smack of his palm causing you to squeeeeeze around him, trapping him in your aching desire. he lets out a grunt, "fuckin'- jesus christ, girl, you're s-so tight."

the noises of your arousal swallowing his dick echo around the room in a sickening chorus.

"dumb girl, lovin' it when I yell at her," he mutters to himself, chasing your high as he feels it spasming close around him. "gonna be o-obedient and thank me for each orgasm, 'kay?" his accent is thick in the throes of passion, you notice.

you nod, unable to speak, unable to think as you feel the crest of something incredibly blissful; you let out a wheeze of ecstasy. "y-yes, s-sir," you choke, your voice croaking from the remnants of his dick wrecking you.

you barely realize you're cumming until you’re screaming, a white-hot, searing arousal streaking your vision. tears are resurfacing on your eyes as he hums, "say it."

you swallow, shakily squirming as he pounds into you, unforgiving in tone and pace. "than-thank you."

it only takes a few more minutes and his thick hand squeezing your throat before you cum for a second time, your hands pulling at his hips, trying to escape the overstimulation of his long, dragging thrusts. the floor is slick with your juices, and so is his pubic bone.

"thank you, s-sir." you slur out, his hand holding you by the throat against his chest, his heartbeat slamming just as fast as yours.

soon he drops your arms, their shaky muscles barely stopping you as you fall to the floor. his chest follows you until he's smothering you, thrusts becoming weak with his own nearing orgasm. you cry, the overstimulation causing you to shake. "'s too much, too much."

he hums, "you want me to stop?"

"no!" you scream it, wail it; no, christ, don't stop. never stop.

he chuckles; a dark, brooding noise. "an' you wonder why I think you're such a bad influence." he mutters into the shell of your ear as he pushes further, deeper into you; "lettin' an old man fuck you into the floor. lovin' it."

he chuckles as you let out a whine, eyes screwing shut at the bursts of pleasure coursing through you. your knees ache.

"'s dirty, isn't it? and you love it, pretty girl."

you let your cheek drop onto the hardwood at his ministrations, spent from your previous orgasms; the pet name makes you flush, arching your hips back. he's so deep, you feel him in your throat. each thrust pushes his tip into your cervix, a dull ache with a swirl of pleasure and ecstasy. you let out a groan, "love it, love it s'much. love it, sir, thank you." you whimper, your brain empty except for Joel Joel JoelJoel-

"good m-manners, sweet girl." he hums, pressing a hot kiss to your spine. goosebumps form in his wake, his words echoing in your brain. sweet girl.

"you're gonna cum one more time." he orders, the thrusts of his hips grinding you down, melting you, tearing you. you nod, "yes, yes-yes, fuck, gonna-gonna cum again." you whimper, the painful overstimulation of his cock drilling through your spent, swollen folds.

your third orgasm has you wailing, shaking your head as you convulse in pleasure, his strong grip holding your hips down as he hits your spot repeatedly, the noise of him fucking into you echoing through the foyer.

there's tears on the floor as you shake, colors exploding behind your eyes as he whispers things you cannot hear into your ear.

when you come to, he's still ravaging your body.

you're limp, ecstasy flowing through your very being as his cock spears through you, hands smacking you, gripping you, grunts leaving his mouth as he nears his own orgasm, having pulled three from you.

"where are your manners?" he whispers into your ear. you let out a broken half-laugh, half-gasp. "fuck- thank you, Joel, thank you."

he hums in satisfaction and you swear you feel his cock twitch inside you as you utter his first name.

he's back in your ear in seconds, surrounding you, swallowing you whole. you love it.

"this is my pussy. mine." he grunts, "never think 'bout any other pussy. jus' this one. always." his voice is laced with desperation as he swats your ass, thrusting into you a few more times as you squirm, sobbing, throat raw.

yours, you whimper in a chorus, body limp as he uses you; his thrusts are sloppy. he's so close-

and he cums just as he's pulling out of you; you gasp at the loss but also as his cum shoots hot spurts across the plush curve of your ass, a bit onto your spine - most of it over your ruined pussy, streaking you in white.

you pulse around nothing, shaking as your legs give out. he groans a deep thing, fingers falling to spread you open, the lewd noise soft and slick.

you jolt and he shushes you with a soft caress of your back. "jus' wanna see it, baby. wanna see how I ruined you."

you swallow dryly at that, nodding as you tilt your hips, eager to feel his eyes over you, over all of you; eager for him.

a finger smears his spend over your juices, pressing lightly at your puckered hole, pushing some of his cum back into you. "fuckin' christ, girl."

you set out a laugh that turns into a cough of pain at the ragged state of your throat.

he stands and leaves you on the cold floor, covered in sweat. you try not to let your heart deflate when he’s gone.

but he returns with a rag and hands it to you before shucking his jeans on; you pull your underwear back on with shaky hands once you’ve wiped yourself clean, your body exhausted.

you sigh. even the thought of making the trek just a few houses down to your own place is daunting as your eyes flutter. something in his eyes glint in understanding when your gazes meet each other, and he seems to get it.

so if Joel gathers you in his arms with a grunt and a short complaint, you don't think too much about it.

(you hate him. he hates you.)

and if he holds your head to his chest as he starts the walk back to your house, it’s not a big deal to you.

when brings you up into your bedroom instead of leaving you at your front door as he finally carries you to your house, you chalk it up to you being nearly asleep. you must be delirious when he tucks you into your mattress and pulls your blankets up. you swear he mutters something about dinner and nice and good job.

(what a cocky asshole.)

it's probably a dream, when a hand caresses the sweaty skin of your forehead, brushing hair away gently before footsteps disappear through the doorway.

. part three .

requests open

#joel miller smut #joel x reader smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #Joel Miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #the last of us smut #the last of us x reader #the last of us #tlou spoilers #tlou fanfiction #the last of us (hbo)#the last of us (tv)

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atombombkaytee · 20 days

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I’ve watched the entire series again today in a hungover state and I CAN’T DEAL with all the parallels.

I mean, when Lucy finds out about her Dad’s true actions and origins - her whole world falls apart. She saw the vaults as safety - she looked up to her Dad more than anyone else in the world. She learns that he’s lied about who he is as a man and as her father, but also she must realise that the vault’s are hiding their own dirty secrets (especially after her experience at vault 4) and that her Dad is a part of that too. She even says to Max, after leaving vault 4, that if she destroyed a whole community to save him, he would be heartbroken: when that’s exactly what he did on an even grander and more terrible scale. Lucy’s life wasn’t even in direct danger to warrant that reaction - he’s just an insecure selfish arsehole.

At the very same time we see the flashback scene of Coop hearing Barb suggest that they drop the bombs on America. This woman that he loves and trusts and has made a family with - who he said he fell in love with because she always tries to do the right thing. Their reactions at the point of realisation - shock, inability to speak, almost dissociation - are both extremely similar. Him having gone through that betrayal before (and likely plenty of times since) is EXACTLY why he talks to Lucy how he does. He’s preparing her for the eventual heartbreak - because he has experience which states that nothing could ever be as perfect as she claims her life is. When he’s making ass jerky from Roger, he even tells her: there’s what people say they do and then there’s what they really do.

When you look at all of that, really, in the scheme of things, Coop - the man that she’s seen as this inhuman, cruel, murderous monster - he’s the good guy. He too thought his wife’s business with vault tec was abhorrent. Yes, he’s been warped and twisted by the wasteland and by his own trauma - but he does see this brightness in Lucy. He thought she was just naive and full of bullshit (especially being a vault dweller. Something which I’m sure triggered him considering his past with vault tec and the links to his wife) but when she proved herself by giving him the vials instead of letting him die, he’s probably amazed that there’s someone left in the world who isn’t just a liar and a terrible person. He’s so used to betrayal and violence by this point. She’s a good person - a trait that he literally said he was in love with his wife because of. She softens him.

But she also proves herself in another way - by shooting her feralled mother - showing that she’s also grown and learnt that not everything is black and white. It’s not just “good and bad” in this world. And although Coop has questionable morals, he’s honest, like her. He tells it how it is. Plus, after her Dad’s huge life changing betrayal and her time in the wasteland, she understands a little more why Coop has done all the things that she’s seen him do - I mean he did meet her pretty much day one out of the vault initially - hence why she goes with him. He has hardened her up to protect her in the wasteland.

Wilzig even says “will you still want the same things when you’re a different animal altogether.”

My god. It’s just genius. Absolutely genius.

“You comin’?”

Edit: Can we also talk about how Coop is basically the inspiration for the vault boy - who Lucy basically looks to (physically a few times throughout the series) for inspiration to do the right thing. AND the fact that her Dad was obviously a bit obsessed with Coop and probably still was when Lucy was born, seeing as he’d been in a pod and had only just woken up, retaining recent memories. So Lucy likely watched all of his films and her Dad maybe even saw him as a bit of a role model (or at least his in-film characters). AND the obvious exchange of index fingers. Yup. Honestly if this relationship doesn’t become cannon, I will start dropping bombs too.

ANOTHER EDIT: Sorry one last thing but, I just want to add: nothing that post-war Coop does is personal. It’s either: to get a job done, survival, because he’s been triggered by something (understandable after what’s he been through) or, in Lucy’s case, to teach a (admittedly often harsh) lesson. He doesn’t just mindlessly kill - or particularly enjoy killing - he just has no issue with it, it’s all just means to an end. He even still remembers to pay for his tomatoes in Filly ffs haha… I imagine he’s extremely numb and devoid of all feeling - except for when it comes to his wife and little girl. That’s the only time we see more visceral reactions in either actions or dialogue from him. He’s such an intricate character and Walton did an amazing job of portraying him.

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sinsirellaxx · 6 days

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Ok, I got an idea. So the slytherin boys left us cus we're pregnant then bla bla bla, a few years later lets say that we became famous & we are not ashamed that we have a kid out of wedlock so of course the kid also gets to bask in the fame so we get in newspapers, tvs, billboards, etc., so now the boys feel haunted & realize their mistake after seeing how well we've been since their abandonment. They also got sad at the thought not seeing their kid grow up & imagine our struggle raising them. (this can be for all or 1 character & its totally fine if you don't do this idea)

Slytherin Boys – Reacting to you getting pregnant pt. 2

Warning: Toxic boys alert! Not proofread. Mention of miscarriage/blood etc.

A/N: I got so many requests on this one – some entailing a more angsty approach and some similar to your request. I heard you and I combined the different approaches. Hope y’all enjoy!

BTW: My requests are closed because I'm drowning in asks and I cannot keep up. 🙈 I'll open them as soon as possible!

Mattheo …

… regretted being so cruel to you after having thought about the situation for a few days.

… hadn’t seen you since that day and grew worried – he must have really hurt you.

… went to look for you after a few days but he was met with an empty room.

… later found out that you had to be rushed to the hospital because you had refused to go to the hospital-wing. Your parents had to pick you up.

… immediately rushed to you when he saw you in the Great Hall after a whole month – you looked pale. Before Mattheo could say anything, you walked past him, your shoulders hunched and your eyes downcast. You looked devastated.

… realized that you must have lost the baby and guilt settled deep in his stomach. He had ruined you.

Theodore …

… was shocked to hear you had left the school for uncertain reasons. No one knew – except for him.

… was pissed that you had left – he just hoped that your mistake would not come back to bite him in his ass.

… regrets the way he acted towards you years after graduation, having finally grown up made him realize what he had lost.

… never stopped looking for you after graduation, he felt horrible for his past actions, and he hoped you had not gone through with his wish to abort his child.

… stumbles upon a little girl with beautiful green eyes one day, her light brown curls shimmering in the sunlight. The child was lost, looking for her mother with tears rolling down her chubby cheeks.

… tells the girl he will help her find her mother and picks her up, to help the child look over the crowd of people. His chest felt tight as he thought of all the what-ifs. Would it have been a girl was well?

… tenses up when he hears the worried wail of a woman, shouting for him to stop. Theodore whips around, the little girl in his arms crying out happily as she reached for her mother. And there you were, with your arms outstretched and your teary eyes focused on the little girl.

… stares at you with big eyes, his lips parted as he took in the sight in front of him. He finally found you.

Lorenzo …

…grows impatient when you hadn’t returned to him after a few days. You must have made your choice – a choice he didn’t like.

… missed you the moment you had walked out of his room, and he was scared you’d completely walk out of his life as well.

… can’t bear the thought of losing you, so he caved in and rushed to you – begging you to talk to him.

… immediately apologizes the moment you two were alone. Enzo tells you that he loves you and that he will support you no matter what – that he will be there for you and your child. He struggles to say the last part, stuttering slightly – stumbling over his words when realization hits him full force. He’s going to be a father.

Will you forgive him?

Draco …

… stares at the newspaper with wide eyes, his fingers tightening around the paper, crumpling it in the process.

…blinks a few times as he rereads the headline again and again. You were a famous best-selling author in the muggle-world. And you looked stunning. Draco’s eyes are drawn to the article about you … and your life as a single mom with your young son. His son. He had a son.

… feels horrible – he was glad you were doing well but he felt like the biggest dimwit for everything he has put you through.

… is scolded by his mother when she reads the newspaper. She wasn’t stupid – she had been able to put one and one together. She wanted him to man up and reach out to you.

… is nervous when he finally stands in front of your door. He felt stupid; with flowers in his hand and a present for his son under his arm – as if any gift would be enough to make everything right again. Taking in a deep breath he finally managed to ring the bell, nervously waiting for you to open the door.

Blaise …

… wants to scream and cry when he sees your – his – daughter in your arms. He is left speechless, lost in those dark innocent orbs. His fingers twitch at his side – desperate to reach out and hug his little girl. She was undoubtedly his.

… felt so stupid for everything he had said to you, and he was so grateful for your strong will.

… looks from your child to you, closing and opening his mouth as if wanting to say something – and he did but he just couldn’t.

… finally blurts out a please when you try to walk away, his hand reaching out for you and your daughter.

Tom …

… had not expected you to be so stubborn. You were refusing to abort the child, rushing out of his room when his temper got the best of him.

… rushed after you – he wasn’t done talking and he sure as hell wouldn’t let you act recklessly.

… grabbed your wrist at the top of the stairs, pulling you back as he tried to reason with you. You were so annoying.

… gripped your shoulders harshly, forcing you to look at him as he practically growled at you.

… shook you by your shoulders out of anger – you were truly testing his patience. You suddenly tried to free yourself from his grip, taking a step back to gain some distance until your foot was met by emptiness. Your eyes widened as you tried to cling onto your boyfriend, but your fingers slipped, and you tumbled down the stairs.

… stared at your unmoving body with wide eyes, your arm was twisted in a weird way.

… immediately rushed down the stairs, pulling out his wand to heal you only to stop in his steps when he noticed the blood dripping from between your thighs.

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lethalchiralium · 1 year

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Tattooed Heart | Simon “Ghost” Riley Headcanon

a/n: this is purely a response to Angel, this is how the 141 reacts to the knowledge of Simon “Ghost” Riley having a daughter. (alejandro, rudy, laswell, and könig meeting winnie soon! also simon meeting you soon as well :)!)

warnings: mentions of afab!reader, cussing, mentions of sex, mentions of death, gaz and price did not know simon knew how to have sex

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- Obviously, Price is the first to see the video. And of course, he’s absolutely speechless. Hearing Ghost speak in a soft voice was one thing, but seeing evidence that Ghost has 1. Had sex. 2. Got someone pregnant. 3. Has a daughter, was another thing. (He really thought Ghost has never had sex because of his whole aversion to physical touch.)

- And of course, as soon as Ghost gets on base, he is hunting his ass down. (“Since when do you have a baby?!” “Since November.”)

- Price does not ask about Winnie unless he knows absolutely no one is around. No one can eavesdrop, no one will know. Asks Simon about what color she likes best, if he really wears the mask around his daughter. (Which Simon answers, “She likes green right now. And yes. She knows me with or without it.”) He also asks if he can ever meet her. (“Someday, Captain. But not today.”)

- Price meets her on her first birthday. He bought her a little light green bear and a necklace “for when she gets older”. (It’s a Price family heirloom. Price considers Ghost to be one of his closest friends, and doesn’t really want a family himself so why not give it to someone who will appreciate it.) (“Thank you, John.” “It’s no problem, Ghost.”)

- Price learns about Winnie’s mom just before she’s two. She had died in an ambulance after a car crash when she was pregnant, Winnie had to be born via c-section two months early. (The woman was a ‘close friend’, Simon was coming to terms with being a father since she had told him two weeks before she died. He doesn’t speak her name.) She’s a happy child, always loving seeing ‘Uncle John’. Price is all smiles whenever he sees Winnie. (which used to be rare, but Simon has grown to truly trust Price.)

- Right after Winnie turns two, Simon asks Price to be her godfather. Price cried. He babysits sometimes for Simon when his pretty nanny has to go out of town and is always so surprised at how obsessed Winnie is with Simon. (“Where’s Daddy, Uncle John! I want him right now!” “Honey, Dad’s workin’. I’m supposed to be working too, can you- Ah!” Winnie smacks him in the face with some of the kid paint she has. She was ‘scolded’ by Simon when he got home (Simon told her to do it again when Price is being ‘mean’.)) Price would do anything for his goddaughter, he would burn the world for that little girl.

- The Task Force would see the video by accident. (At this point, Winnie is almost 4 and for the sake of this whole thing, TF141 is created BEFORE the events of MW2.) Price was drunk at a bar with Gaz and Soap, scrolling through his phone before saying, “Aww, look at my goddaughter.” And he plays the video.

- Gaz is just fucking bewildered. He’d sober up immediately and take the phone from Price, jaw dropped. “What the fuck.” He’d hand the phone to Soap, who is fucking speechless. (And of course, Price would snatch it away and immediately recognize his wrongdoing and say, “You lot stole my phone and saw that video, I did not show it to ya. I am not in on this.” Trying to get himself out of trouble because he knows that it’s incredibly difficult for Simon to let anyone meet his baby. So that would make it VERY easy for Simon to revoke Price’s privileges, albeit not for super long but long enough for Price to regret his whole life.)

- “Ghost has had sex?!” Was Gaz’s first response. (Price uttered a quiet, “That’s what I said.”) And he pushes his beer away, looking at Price while Price looks straight ahead. “He has a baby.”

- “Holy shite.” Soap would then say, tossing the phone onto the bar. “Can we meet her?”

- “It took me almost ten months to meet her myself, I doubt you two will ever.” Price answered, Gaz just sits back in his chair and goes, “Ghost has had sex.” And Soap goes, “Ghost has a baby.”

- When Soap and Gaz arrive back on base, practically dragging a very piss drunk Price while being piss drunk themselves, Ghost meets them. Gaz and Soap both stare at him and Ghost says, “What happened?”

- “You had sex.” “You have a baby.” Ghost looks at Price. Price looks at Ghost. Ghost knows he did it. He doesn’t say a word before he takes Price from the two bumbling idiots and says, “Go to bed.” (Ghost chews Price out the next morning. Price knows he deserves it and does not say one word.)

- Gaz follows Ghost around the next day, asking questions about his daughter out of earshot of others. (“I don’t know what you’re on about, Sergeant. Don’t you have paperwork to do?”) Gaz grumbles when he finally gives up, saying that the video probably wasn’t real and just Price messing with them.

- Soap is a lot more annoying about it. Just like Gaz and Price, he only asks questions when no one is around. (in fear of his life but he would never admit that.) “How old is she?” “Babies are so precious. My sister has one. I love my niece.” “Does she like ducks? My niece likes ducks.”

- Ghost would give him a look of “Shut the fuck up before you get smacked the fuck up.” Soap doesn’t care. “Babies are so fun!”

- It would take just one day on patrol back at their base in England for Soap to trail Ghost home and see the girl for himself. She kisses his mask and hugs him tightly, he pats her back and heads into a house, seeing a very slim glimpse of a beautiful woman. (He reports back to Price and Gaz, freaking out. “HE HAS A WOMAN IN HIS HOUSE.” and Price is like, “Uh, yes… He has a nanny.”) (Gaz is still very much bewildered that Ghost, the untouchable man, has had sex so he does not comment on a woman being in his house.)

- A year later, after both Gaz and Soap have stopped pestering Ghost about Winnie, on her fifth birthday, unbeknownst to Gaz and Soap, Price invites them to the ‘party’. Soap immediately recognizes the building as Simon’s house when he, Gaz, and Price drive towards it. “You tricked us!” “I did.” “We don’t have presents!” “Yes, you do.” Price shoves small bags into their hands.

- Simon opens the door and actually lets them in. Gaz and Soap are absolutely dumbfounded when they enter the house. (Of course it’s in almost the middle of nowhere because he a paranoid man.)

- And here comes Winnie - dressed in pink with the green bear Price got her in her hands. “Uncle John!” She screams, and attacks his leg, clinging to it while Price just laughs. He walks around and chats with Ghost while Soap and Gaz just stand and watch the little girl.

- She would detach herself from Price’s leg before climbing onto the couch next to Gaz and smacking her hands onto his cheek and saying, “Friend.” Gaz would immediately burst into tears and she would hug him around his neck, Gaz would stand and carry her towards Ghost. (He’d be silently pointing at her to Price and mouthing, “Look!” He’s in absolute shambles. He thought that the Lieutenant’s daughter would be conditioned to not like strangers.)

- Winnie holds onto Gaz for dear life and does not like Soap at first. As soon as Soap was near, she would reach for Ghost. He would take her from Gaz without a word and let her squeeze her arms around his neck. (Soap’s face drops but Price pats his arms. “Don’t worry, she didn’t necessarily like me in the beginning either.” Soap feels better then.)

- Ghost would thank them all for coming to visit after they eat, he herded them towards the door and Soap goes, “Where’s the missus?”

- Ghost opened the door, gesturing for them to leave. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” And ‘slams’ the door in their faces. (Price bursts out laughing and Gaz is still all smiles. Soap is defeated.)

- And all is normal when they return to base the next day, except when Ghost is sat beside Soap. He fishes a light pink paper out of his vest pocket, hands it to him. Soap opens it and sees a drawing of an obviously mohawked stick figure and a smaller stick figure wearing pink. And in big, childish letters, Soap was written and pointed towards the mohawked one, and Winnie pointed to the smaller one. He almost cried. (Ghost then pulled out his phone, and opened his photos. “Here’s my girls.” He then showed a picture of you, holding a ten month old Winnie. (Ghost would be lying if he said that wasn’t when he fell in love with you.) “Don’t ever ask again.” “Sir yes sir.”)

———

#canon that winnie loves gaz more than soap and price #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley call of duty #simon ghost riley call of duty #simon ghost riley headcanons #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #john mactavish #soap mactavish #simon ghost riley x afab!reader #price cod #gaz cod #soap cod

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tootiecakes234 · 6 months

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I’m gonna rank jjk peoples and the things they are best at

Some SFW AND NSFW

All characters aged up.

*im just ranking the top 3 for each category.

SFW:

Best cook:

Nanami (would cook 3 course meals everyday if he had the time)

Itadori (big ass appetite and cooked for himself a lot growning up)

Panda ( i just feel like he’s the cook for himself, toge, and maki)

Best singer:

Megumi ( he hums when he’s concentrating but no one mentions it because if he realized, he’d never do it again)

Geto (Gojo used to force him to sing because he loved his voice)

Todo (hear me out, he sings so often and it’s great but everyone ends up telling him to shut the fuck up cuz he will just keep going forever)

Biggest gossips (I don’t need to explain these):

Gojo

Nobara

Toge & Panda

Best gift givers:

Shoko (i feel like she’s pays very close attention to detail and would know exactly what you want)

Nanami ( would get you something that you want AND something that you need. Balance)

Megumi (is more of a listener than a talker so he 100% knows what people want)

Worst liars:

Itadori (poor baby can’t lie to save his life)

Yuta (again… lying just isn’t his thing)

Haibara (innocent sweet baby)

Best liars:

Geto & Gojo (lied to everyone and said they never saw each other in private after that day…. Puh-lease!)

Nobara (constantly telling Gojo she doesn’t know where those charges on his card came from.. weird)

Shoko (covering for Gojo when he did go meet with Geto)

Worst drivers:

Maki (music blasting, windows down, curbs hit and vibes. She’s also driving 20over the speed limit at all times)

Gojo ( this man can’t be hurt so he drives like a god damn maniac)

Gakuganji (he’s old and someone needs to take away his license)

NSFW:

Best overall in bed (not explaining):

Toji

Shoko

Geto

Best eaters:

Maki (I shouldn’t have to explain…. This woman EATS DOWN. Will not stop until the sheets are soaked and your legs are shaking)

Shoko (women do it best and shoko…. Yea she’s top tier. Have you outside her door with a boombox)

Yuta (the only man to make this list because he is a MUNCH.)

Most loving in bed:

Nanami (obviously… rose petals on the bed, slow moves deep strokes and great aftercare)

Toge (he shows you what his words cannot say)

Choso (would not leave a patch of skin untouched and he loves to talk you through the whole thing)

Meanest in bed:

Sukuna (very obvi, more pain than pleasure. Uses you like a plaything)

Mei Mei ( she’s tying you up, gagging you and overstimming to hell, but you will enjoy yourself)

Ijichi (stick with me…. This man is used and abused all day at work and he comes home to let that out on you… I feel like he’s a mean dom)

Pillow princess energy:

Nobara ( is the exact definition of a pillow princess. Treat her well)

Mei Mei (on the days when she’s not up for the work, she will sit back and let you try and please her until she gets tired)

Gojo (he comes home a lot of times exhausted and just wants to be rode or be sucked off)

Biggest tease:

Gojo (he’s just so physically affectionate, he would have you squirming and not even be doing it on purpose)

Megumi (would 1000% be on purpose but it would be so subtle. You’d be gaslit into thinking you’re making it all up in your head)

Sukuna (just wants to see how fast he can make you get on your knees and beg for him

Best subs:

Yuta (he would be down on his knees for you. Does anything to make you happy)

Choso (self explanatory. Loves to serve you)

Gojo (but only for Geto. Cannot tell me he didn’t go to him begging to be fucked more than once after their breakup.

*this was so much fun

#jjk drabble #jjk headcanons #jjk hcs #gojo saturo #suguru geto #inumaki toge #jjk panda #nanami kento #mei mei #nobara kugisaki #shoko ieiri #yuta okkotsu #choso kamo #fushiguro megumi #nijika ijichi #maki zenin #toji fushiguro

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redxx95 · 23 days

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Tachibana & Kurosawa parallels that are making me go insane

Hey guys so I had some Thoughts that are not letting me go so I did some digging and now I'm gonna present yall with my findings. They are horrible. (Spoilers for volume 14)

So how this all started is me wondering if Kurosawa ever feels a little guilty about entering a relationship with Adachi, since things could've been a lot easier for him if he'd simply gone out with a woman (to him it would've been Fujisaki) instead. He often mentions Adachi could've been happy without him, after all.

Then I remembered this bit from the end of volume 14 about how Adachi doesn't know how to deal with advances because Kurosawa was always intercepting them for him and decided to properly translate all of it.

"Adachi felt guilty, but him not understanding the tactics of love or how to evade invitations is my fault. I don't want anyone to take him away, but I also don't want him to ever learn any of this. Of course I can't tell him that though."

Tactics of love, huh. You mean like...

Giving little compliments... (The phrasing here is almost the same in japanese except Tachibana is using polite speech)

Offering favors...

Invading personal space...

Going "hey you like this thing, why don't we do this thing together?" ...

Helping out when they're weak and vulnerable...

You mean tactics like that? Man it sure is convenient that Adachi remains blissfully unaware of any of this huh. Okay So. Before you raise your pitchforks at me, yes there's obviously some nuance in all of this. Kurosawa is doing all of this to befriend Adachi, first and foremost. He wants to be closer to him because he loves him. Tachibana (as far as I can tell) just wants to get in his pants lmao Also Adachi's a Grown Ass Man and can definitely make his own decisions, and it's not like he got really manipulated either, since he could read Kurosawa's thoughts and intentions the whole time. I could still see Kurosawa having some self-doubts about their relationship though, if he ever realizes that he might have "manipulated" Adachi into a relationship that is objectively worse for him, considering the alternative of being with a woman and completely evading all the problems they've had with homophobia. Not to mention that Adachi is clearly good with kids and might want some of his own, which is something he can't have with Kurosawa, since adoption requires couples to be married in Japan and gay marriage is illegal, as we know. What if Kurosawa ruined Adachi's chances to lead a happy life, for his own selfish reasons?

...

Now, here come my truly insane speculations about vol 15 and how this could tie in with drama around Matsuura :)

So on that last page she's clearly approaching Tachibana, who, as we can read pages before, wants to get black-out drunk to forget all his romantic woes. Which means he will be very talkative to a nosy Matsuura. There's no doubt in my mind that he'll reveal literally everything to her, how he wanted to go for this cute, inexperienced coworker named Adachi and how he got told to back off by his big scary boyfriend named Kurosawa. "Oh yea they work together at Toyokawa. I even told him it's really risky to date coworkers, can you believe it?!" Matsuura just goes "Oh that is Interesting."

She might even try to get under Kurosawa's skin by drawing parallels to his harassment in vol 1 and him pursuing Adachi, since Kurosawa has a higher position in their company and earns more, and Adachi being inexperienced. One could easily construe this as a power imbalance between them. Throw into the mix the issue of being "forced into a relationship that's looked down upon by society" and the looming threat of their relationship being revealed to their workplace and Kurosawa might truly spiral, maybe even breaking up with Adachi, just to fulfill yet another parallel to Tachibana.

Man would that be fucked up or what haha

#cherry magic #spoilers for japanese volumes #the deranged ramblings of someone with too much cm brainrot

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marveldcmistress · 7 months

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Heartbreak Amongst the Harem

A/N: It's here! Thank you to @just-ten-cents for the encouragement and beta writing for me! And like most of my writing, this is purely self-serving. Based off a dream I had about Mikey, but I threw is the other three just for spice and giggles. Enjoy!

Summary: Reader is in a poly relationship, and everything was going great, until a lack of communication and people's hurt feelings cause some loyalty issues.

Pairings: Mike (Hellraiser) x Plus Size!Reader, Captain Syverson x Plus Sized!Readaer, August Walker x Plus Sized!Reader, Walter Marshall x Plus Sized!Reader

Trigger Warnings: cheating, reverse harem, cussing, physical violence/threats of physical violence, hints and innuendos of smut, drinking and smoking, if there's anymore just let me know.

If someone would have told you a year ago you would be in a relationship with four men, who are more than happy to share you, you would have laughed in their face. It was a wonder even one out of the three older men took a second glance at you, let alone all three wanting you. You were less surprised about Mikey though. You were fully aware that he was a whore. He almost bragged about it when he could come in during your shifts at the bar.

All four had been customers at some point or other. Sy, Walter, and August had all grown up together. Despite being fourth cousins, twice removed, or however they tried to explain it to you, they grew up in tight knit families. Eventually, Sy went into the military, August was hired into the CIA and Walter went off to college and became a cop. But as life goes, it brought them back together when Sy retired, August chose to leave the CIA, and Walter offered to move them into his house to fill the void Faye left when she went to college.

Sy had started his own dog training business while August became a personal trainer for the police academy. Months after though was when Sy got the call from one of their other cousin’s, Liza. Liza had gotten pregnant at 17 and raised Mikey mostly on her own. When Mikey had gotten into college in the same city, she had practically BEGGED Sy and Walter to let him live with them so he would stay out of trouble. And it worked, for the most part. There had been a few times where some of Mikey’s flings had shown up to the house because he had ghosted them and they couldn’t handle it, but Walter had that straightened out pretty quickly.

The first time you met them, they had all come in for Mikey’s 22nd birthday, only wanting a couple drinks and some wings before going home for work the next morning. You were behind the bar, busting ass alone and looking fantastic while doing it. Sy and August had shared a look. It wasn’t uncommon for them to share a woman during their usual one night stands. Walter had rolled his eyes and shook his head. One day these three were going to get him killed. Despite his thought process though, he could agree that you were an attractive woman. All four men were flirting with you all night, causing a blush to cover not only your cheeks, but spread all the way down your neck and across your chest, much to their delight.

It went on that way for months, sometimes they would come in individually, just two or three of them, or as the whole group. Sometimes it was deep conversation about the darkness they had seen in the world, the battle of darkness inside of them, and the anger at the universe they held for making them go through that darkness alone. Everytime though they would flirt with you. Eventually, you fell in love with them.

Sy was the perfect southern gentleman, funny and sweet and respectful. He always told the worst dad jokes. August was snarky and sarcastic, but he called you Kitten and it just made you weak in the knees. Walter was grumpy and brooding, but the intellectual conversations you would have stimulated you mentally, which stimulated you sexually as well. He could also appreciate any insight you could provide from what little he could tell you about his cases.

And last but not least, Mikey. He had gotten the nickname Baby from you because of his baby face. He was like a puppy dog to you. It had taken some convincing from Mikey and the others for you to give him a chance. It was unconventional, but it worked for the five of you. Sy and August were your makeshift bouncers when your boss fired the last one you had without having someone to replace him and they never interfered with your job unless it was a risk to your safety. Sometimes when flirting with customers for tips they would get carried away, but that’s not the point.

Everything was going great, until you got that text that shattered everything. It had been a beautiful summer day in the middle of July. Sy had taken you and Walter on a trip for the weekend in between cases. The cabin on the lake was beautiful, lush green grass surrounding you, trees thick and abundant. Sy and Walter were on the docks fishing while you were sitting on the porch drinking a glass of moscato. August had appointments for a personal training business he had just started and Mikey had opted out, spouting something about having summer classes he had homework for. It struck you as odd, he hadn’t told you about taking summer classes before, but you shook it off and decided to have a good trip with the two lovers you had with you. There was no cell service out here so you had to entertain yourself.

After your much needed break with your boys, filled with sex and rest, it was back to business as usual. Walter had once asked you to move in, to which you had told him it was too soon. You would love to move in one day, when your relationship with all four men was at a more permanent standing. It wasn’t that you didn’t see a future with them, but you were still unsure as to how this poly situation would work long term. But that was a discussion for another day.

It was a week after your trip and you were hustling behind the bar, flipping bottles and slinging drinks. It was an extra busy Saturday night, the band being extremely popular amongst the local community. Sy and August were standing at the very end of the bar by the door, two sets of military trained eyes scoping every part of the crowded room. You’re so busy you don’t have time to check your phone when you see a notification from Mikey light your phone up.

It wasn’t until after the last customer had left and you finished all of your side work did you look at your phone. Sy was walking behind you to his truck, his hand in your back pocket. August had left after last call, saying he was gonna set up your nightly routine at home so it was ready when you got there. Your boys always treated you so well.

You unlock your phone and click on the notification. You weren’t surprised to see he had sent you a video, as Mikey had an obsession with TikToK and liked to share what he thought you would enjoy. As you wait for the video to load, Sy helps you climb into his truck, his hands pushing you by the ass into the seat, pinching just under the cheeks before you sit down.

“Ow, Sy!” you yelp. He just chuckles, vibrations coming from deep in his chest.

“Can’t help it, Sugar. It’s just so juicy,” he says as he sends you his signature failed wink, making you laugh as you call him an asshole. You had almost forgotten your phone in your hand until the video started playing. You watch, confused at first as to why you see your ex-coworker MaKenna on the screen. But the longer the video goes on, the worse it gets. She’s half naked, completely bare from the bottom down and bouncing on someone’s……. And then you see his face and your blood starts to boil.

It’s Mikey, under your ex-coworker, letting her ride reverse cowgirl. His hands are on her hips and his hips are meeting hers and you’re gonna get sick. MaKenna wasn’t exactly a bad coworker or person, you knew she was promiscuous, and you didn’t judge her for it. But she knew you and Mikey were together. And though it was an unconventional relationship you had with him and his cousins, you were big on loyalty and each man had pledged their loyalty only to you. So for him to have done this to you broke you on the inside.

Just as they start to get louder, tears start to burn in your eyes. Sy catches on to the noise coming from your phone and looks over the console to your phone. The second he recognizes his little cousin’s face, he’s pissed. He knew Mikey had been a slut, but it seems he needs to teach the little prick a lesson about messing around on the woman you promised to only give certain affections and attentions to.

“That little fucker. I’m gonna beat his ass.” he mumbles, starting to tear out of the parking lot and speed towards home. You ignore him, locking your phone and wiping the tears out of your eyes. You had confided in all four that you had been cheated on before, and all of them had worked hard to earn your trust. You never thought one of them would do something like this to you. Before you could stop it, a sob burst from your chest and out of your mouth. That’s when the dam really broke and you started crying uncontrollably.

“Oh baby. I’m sorry, I know it hurts. I’m gonna get you home and August and I are gonna take good care of ya. And then we’re gonna hunt down that little prick and kick his ass real good.” He reaches across the console to wipe the tears from your eyes before wrapping his arm around you and pulling you into his side. It’s uncomfortable, the console digging into your ribs, but you appreciate his attempt to love on you.

You pull into the driveway ten minutes later. Sy doesn’t even give you a chance to get out on your own, opening your door and wrapping his arms around your waist and carrying you inside the house. August had heard you pull in and met you at the door, one brow lifted in question. Then he saw your red, puffy eyes and his ocean eyes turned murderous. You simply just unlocked your phone and handed it to him, Sy walking away to let him watch the video without hurting you even further.

“What the actual fuck?!”

“I’m already planning to kick his ass so get in line. But right now she is my main priority,” Sy hollers behind his back. Normally you would admonish him for talking about you in front of you like you weren’t even there, but you were too busy trying to keep air in your lungs to really care about telling him off. Your chest hurt and your eyes stung and it just felt like your world had come crashing down. You knew you would owe Sy big time when this was over. August too.

Sy had carried you into the master bathroom where August had set up a bubble bath with candles and snacks. He had taken to spoiling you after your long shifts. You had found out very quickly he was dominant and took his duties as a dom seriously, and that included pampering you with only the best. Most weekend evenings/mornings after your shifts at the bar include a hot bubble bath with your favorite wine, snacks, and a good foot rub. That is usually followed by a full body massage with your favorite lotion. If you happened to stay awake during the massage, you’d then get the best dick down to finish you off and send you to sleep more than satisfied.

“Baby doll?” Sy’s voice pulls you out of whatever trance you were in. You look up into his eyes, before looking over his shoulder to August’s concerned gaze. You hate the pity you see in both of their eyes, hate knowing they are looking at you in such a vulnerable state.

“Do you want us to help you, Kitten?” August asks. You don’t know what you want. You want them there for comfort, as that’s what partners are for. You want the floor to open you up and swallow you whole. You want to forget that Mikey even exists and that you ever met him. You don’t know…..

August must see it on your face because he moves to the tub and takes the plug out to let the water drain. He then swiftly moves to the shower and turns it on as hot as you can stand it. Sy slowly starts to ease your shirt up and over your head, before moving to your jeans. You know there is nothing sexual motivating his actions, but you can’t help but bring your arms up to cover yourself. Sy squats down to his knees to help you take off your pants, and August moves to leave a kiss on your forehead before pulling out his phone and walking out of the room.

Sy moves you bodily to the shower, helping you slip in before telling you he’ll be in the other room when you get out.. You see him set out a towel and fresh clothes from Walter’s closet before leaving the bathroom. The sound of the door clicking shut resonates in the silent room. The only noise being the shower water hitting the tiled floor and your quiet sobbing. You slide to sit on the floor, bringing your knees to your chest and burying your head.

You felt ridiculous. Part of the reason you had been so hesitant to even consider adding Mikey to your little group was his history with women. All four men were open about how he treated his flings when he was done with them. You were also concerned about his age. You didn’t normally go for guys around your age, and especially younger. Three years wasn’t much of a gap physically, but maturity wise had been a big red flag to you.

Eventually you had cried yourself dry and the water had turned cold. You stood up, shutting off the water. You hadn’t even had the shower door fully open before Walter burst in the bathroom. You wanted to cover yourself, but he didn’t give you the chance. Before you could blink, he had you wrapped in his big arms, the wool of his sweater scratching against your bare skin. He sways you back and forth and you’re bombarded with the memory of him telling you this is how he used to get Faye to sleep when she was a baby.

“I’m so sorry, baby. August called me and I rushed right over.” he slowly releases you when he remembers you’re fully naked. He moves back to the toilet where he gets the towel and wraps it around you. You want to argue that you can dry and dress yourself, but the energy just doesn’t seem to be there. Once he’s satisfied that you've dried off enough, he pulls one of his softer sweaters over your head, lifting your arms and slotting them into the sleeves. He kneels with a pair of boxers in hand, lifting each foot and sliding the shorts up your legs. He makes a show of bringing them up over your ass, and you give him a small smile. All three of these beautiful men, trying to make you feel better. How did you get so lucky?

When Walter is happy that you are finally ready for bed, he scoops you up by the thighs and carried you into the bedroom. You see Sy already laying in bed, shirtless but wearing pajama bottoms. You hear August in the kitchen, assuming he’s putting away the snacks he had planned for your nightly routine. Walter lays you in the middle of the California King sized bed, right next to Sy, before moving to the closet to change into pajamas while Sy turns and snuggles into your side, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and ribs.

“I know this probably won’t mean much, but he doesn’t deserve you, Sugar.” Sy mumbles into your chest. Even now, you can’t help but find amusement in his obsession with your tits. His favorite pillows, he once said.

“Thanks, Sy.” you mumble. You feel the bed dip beside you, turning to find Walter getting in on your right side. He’s also shirtless only wearing pajama bottoms, and the fuzz on his chest is thicker than the others.

“He’s right, Love. You are an incredible woman, and it’s Michael’s loss if he can’t see that.” his voice rumbles through your whole body. They’re both so warm, so soft. You internally chuckle at the contradiction. All four of them had godlike bodies, firm muscles and virile masculine strength. You lose your amusement as you think of Mikey again.

You look up as August walks in, dressed just as the other two. You were prepared for the nightly argument of who was going to cuddle with you and how. When it came to sex, these men worked together like a well oiled machine, each one moving perfectly in sync with the other to bring you the highest heights of pleasure. But when it came to cuddles, they fought over you like children with a teddy bear. But none of that happened. With Sy on his side to your left, Walter on his side to your right, and you on your back in the middle, August made his way between your legs and laid right on top of you. His torso was half on top of you, with his head on your sternum right below your breasts, half on the bed between your thighs, and the rest of his body between your spread calves.

“I feel like I’m in a puppy pile,” you mutter, causing all three men to chuckle. They quiet quickly though, all three concluding you’re trying to hide your pain through humor. Three sets of arms squeeze you tightly, and you soak up the love radiating from the three beautiful souls surrounding you. Maybe this heartbreak will be easier to get over when you have three other boyfriends to take care of you. Soon, the snoring coming from Sy, the soothing hand August has rubbing your thigh, and Walter playing with your hair, on top of all of the crying you’ve done, lulls you into a deep sleep.

*************************************************************************************************************

When you wake up, the sun is shining through the windows. You’re used to the sun being high in the sky when you wake up, but never have you woken up with one of the guys, aside from Mikey, still in bed with you. Sy was never one to sleep much, years of military training now just ingrained into who he is as a human being. August was usually at the gym, and Walter would be on a case. So it shocked you to still have Walter by your side. You look up to his face and find he is watching you. You should have figured he wouldn’t have been asleep.

“How long have you been up?” you ask, voice hoarse from sleep. Your throat hurt from crying so much last night, and your head was throbbing. Despite having slept deeply for a decent amount of time, you were still exhausted. Your eyes burned and your body felt heavy.

“A few hours. I was up for a bit, but I didn’t want you to wake up alone.” he whispers. You always wondered how he always knew what you needed, even if it was something as small as keeping his voice low because your head hurts, when you didn’t even tell him.

“Thanks, babe. Where’s the other two?” you look around. You can hear someone working around in the kitchen. The smells of bacon and eggs finally hits your senses and your stomach grumbles. You silently wished Walter hadn’t heard. Out of the four, well now three, he was the most anal about making sure you ate enough and stayed hydrated. You look up and there it is, the pointed look he gives you everytime.

“Love, did you eat last night?” You look down in shame. You had a horrible habit of getting so caught up at work you forget to order food from the kitchen before it closes.

“You see, what had happened was..” you start. Walter rolls his eyes and huffs, beginning to roll away from you. You pull him back in protest.

“Listen to me! I didn’t have the chance to eat because I had to get the bar put together because Katie had to leave early and then we got slammed and Sheri couldn’t keep up with her tables so they kept coming up to the bar and then we just, didn’t slow down until after close, so Sy and I were going to go get something to eat and then….” you trail off, your brain bringing up the awful memory of what your….. You’re not even sure what to call Mikey. Walter notices where your mind seems to go and quickly put his hand under your chin and raises your eyes to his.

“Sy is making breakfast,” he starts.

“Fuck yeah,” you mumble. Sy was the best cook in the entire group, and his breakfast was fire. Walter rolls his eyes at that.

“And August went to the gym. Grumbling something about still being pissed off.” That last bit of information didn’t surprise you at all. August was crazy, as you had seen one night when a customer had gotten too handsy and decided to fight Auggie when he tried to throw him out. You were not ashamed to admit it made you so horny that you jumped him in the car at the end of your shift. It may have also revealed just how toxic you could be at times to the entire group. None of them seemed to mind though.

Just then, Sy came into the bedroom, carrying a tray full of food. You see french toast and biscuits and gravy, eggs, bacon, ham, fruit. All of your favorite breakfast foods. God you love these men. Sy sees you eyeing the tray and raises his eyebrows suggestively.

“Well good morning to you too, Sugar. You sleep alright?” He kisses your forehead while balancing the tray in his hand. You soak up the affection, staring at him as he brings the tray to sit in your lap. You pick up a fork and dig in, almost inhaling the fruit and french toast, feeding bites to each man beside you. It was almost perfect, until you heard the front door open and Mikey’s voice rings through the house. Your hand tightens around your fork and Walter is quick enough to move the tray off your lap as Sy flies off the bed and out of the room. You both quickly follow him, knowing deep down you wouldn’t be able to keep Sy from kicking his ass.

You stand at the top of the stairs and watch as Sy barrels towards Mikey, shoving him against the wall and holding him up by the front of the shirt. Walter moves you to the side, coming to stand on the steps in front of you but not shielding you from watching what was happening. Mikey’s eyes go wide and his hands go up at his sides.

“Woah, woah, woah. Easy, big guy. Good morning to you, too.” It wasn’t unusual for Sy and Mikey to wrestle in the house. But the look on Sy’s face told Mikey this was anything but playful.

“How was your studying session, Mike?” Sy snarls. His voice sent shivers down your spine. You almost feel sorry for anyone who had to go against your Captain. It was joked once that he was a bull, once he sees red there’s no running from him.

“It was fine. What is your problem, man?’ Mike stutters. That just seems to piss Sy off even more because he removes one hand and pulls it back before punching Mike in the stomach. The younger man doubles over before Sy lifts him back into a standing position. Part of you wants to step in. Yes Mike hurt you, but you don’t usually condone physical violence unless absolutely necessary. But on the other hand, Karma is a bitch, and he’s had more than enough coming his way.

“Now, you wanna try that again?” Sy growls. Mikey looks up to you, and your heart breaks all over again. You see the moment it clicks in his head, and shame fills his eyes.

“Sweetcheeks…” he tries. Sy shakes him hard.

“You don’t get to speak to her. You’re lucky August isn’t here because he wouldn’t be as easy on you as I am right now. I thought we had a clear understanding on what this relationship meant to her, and now you’ve set all of us back. She’s going to shut herself off and we’ll have to work double to get her trust back. Fucking idiot.” Sy pushes him harder into the wall before dropping him not so gently to the floor. You move past Walter and make your way down the stairs. You put a hand on Sy’s shoulder and he looks at you. You can hear his thoughts as loud as if he said them out loud; ‘you don’t have to do this’.

Mikey stands up and looks at you, flashing his puppy dog eyes and pouty lips. Normally it would melt your heart, but right now it just turns it to stone. You wonder how you would be responding if you didn’t have the strength of the two men behind you.

“Taking summer classes, huh? Does the name MaKenna ring a bell?” you seethe. You had once confided in how insecure she made you feel. She was your height but very petite. You had noted how her breasts were the perfect size that they just stayed perky, making you self-conscious of your larger chest that hangs low. Not that you didn’t love your body, but loving yourself is a long, bumpy road.

“Babycakes,” Mikey tries again.

“What did Sy say? You don’t have the privilege of speaking to me. Ya know, Mikey, it took a lot of convincing from your cousins to even get me to consider giving you a chance, based off your history with women. I knew from the get go this was going to end badly but I had that littlest bit of hope that I was wrong. I can’t even stand looking at you right now.” you say, turning away from him. You move but before you get too far, he reaches out and grabs your arm. You spin quickly, and before anyone can blink you slap him. Hard as fuck. Your palm stings and his face immediately turns red. You turn and run before he can see you start to cry.

“Great contact, Sugar.” Sy mumbles as you rush past him, giving Mikey one last hard look before following you upstairs. Walter, who had been silent during this entire altercation, finally looked at Mike.

“I’m not going to discuss any of this with you, right now. I’m more disappointed than angry,” he starts. Mikey rolls his eyes.

“No offense, Walt, but I don’t need the dad lecture at the moment,” he says sarcastically. That’s what finally set the normally stoic detective off.

“Obviously you do! Maybe if that piece of shit father of yours would have stuck around you would have turned out better.” That fucking stung. Mikey had taken some time to open up about his dad bailing on him and his mom. He blamed himself for a long time, something you strived to help him heal.

“But he didn’t, so now it is up to myself and the other two to teach you something about being a man. I understand that before her you made no commitments to the women you took to your bed. But when you actually make a promise to someone you don’t break it like that. I’m going to ask you once to leave. Take a few days at a friend’s while we discuss how we want to proceed from here.”

Mikey went to protest but the look on Walter’s face killed the argument before it could leave his mouth. He knew he fucked up, and he hears his mother’s voice in his head telling him to face the consequences of his decisions.

“Can I at least grab some stuff before I go?” he mumbles. Walter nods but says nothing else. He watches as Mikey gathers some things before moving towards the front door. He pauses before opening the door, turning back to the older man.

“I’m sorry, Walt.”

Walter shakes his head. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to. We all have some talking to do, but for right now let the dust settle. She needs to heal some from this. And before you start accusing me of choosing a woman over family, remember that you are the one in the wrong in this scenario.”

And with that Walter went upstairs, leaving Mike to walk out of the house with his tail between his legs. Just as he was getting to his car, August pulls up beside him. Mike barely has his door open before August is on him, throwing him up against his car.

“I should beat the fuck out of you right now.” he hisses. If Mike thought Sy was scary, August was terrifying. He remembered one night when they all had had way too much to drink and August went to a really dark place mentally, giving a recount of just how many people he had killed during his time working for the CIA. Mike knew just how skilled August was in the arts of torture, and the thought alone of what he could do to him almost made him piss himself.

“Listen, Sy has already given it to me and she left this beautiful hand print on my face, so give me a break, okay? You can come at me later when Walter lets me back in the house,” he grumbles. August locks in on that last bit of information.

“Walter kicked you out?”

“He said it’s just for a few days.” August nods.

“Well whatever you do, do NOT go back to that little bitch’s house. Find a GUY friend to stay with. And call your mother, before one of us does.”

Mikey should have known that was coming. All three of the older men were fiercely loyal to his mother, and never missed an opportunity to let her know when he did something stupid. But this was probably the worst thing he could’ve told her. He sighs and gets in his car, thinking of who he could call that would let him stay a few days.

*************************************************************************************************************

August makes his way to the bedroom immediately upon walking into the house. He didn’t want to leave you this morning but he was still so pissed by what happened early this morning he knew it would do no one any good if he didn’t get it out of his system. So he went to the gym where he almost destroyed a punching bag and scared some staff members. One of his training buddies had finally had enough of him abusing the gym equipment and said something.

“Now what did the bag ever do to you?” Geralt asks. The man was taller than August with more muscle, but he had a more even temperament. August puts his hands down and huffs.

“I’m picturing Mikey’s face.” he growls. Geralt just raises a brow. August had talked about his little cousin and the relationship he had with the bartender. He’d been to the bar and wasn’t hesitant to admit he could understand the attraction. You were a beautiful woman, fiery and bubbly simultaneously. It was adorable.

“What did the little idiot do this time?” Geralt had come to calling him that after he had drunkenly picked up a rabid raccoon out of the dumpster and it bit him.

“He hooked up with MaKenna.” August says. Geralt pauses to rack his brain.

“The little redhead that worked there before she was fired for having sex in the parking lot during her shift?”

“That’s why they fired her?” August spins to face the larger man. You had said she was fired for employee misconduct and insubordination, but you never gave the specifics. “You know what, I’m not surprised.”

“That’s what I heard from the owner at a house party a week after that, I think. Doesn’t matter. How did you guys find out?”

“The stupid shit sent her a video of them fucking to her, in the same bath tub in the cabin Sy took her to last weekend.” August shakes his head. Little shit couldn’t have even been original.

“And he’s still breathing?” Geralt looks surprised.

“For now. But when I see him….” August’s hands curl into fists at his side and he almost starts shaking. Geralt gives a hum and then pats his back, turning to leave his friend to stew in his feelings and planning a nice phone call to the beautiful bartender with a broken heart at home.

Shaking the memory from his mind, August opens the bedroom door to see you curled into Sy’s chest, shoulders shaking but no noise coming from you. Only the vision of the bright hand print on Mikey’s face calms his rising anger. He hears Walter in the bathroom and the shower turning on. Sy finally notices him and makes eye contact. It was almost a telepathic conversation between the two men: our baby needs us.

August turns to his left as Walter walks in, steam following him from the running shower. Sy nudges you up with murmurs of needing to calm down. You grudgingly obey, make eye contact with August before quickly looking away and following them to the shower. August takes this chance to change the sheets, rolling his eyes when he sees the crumbs on the comforter. He’d told them time and again not to let you eat in bed, but they never listen. He’ll let it slide this time, given current circumstances.

After fixing the bed and taking the breakfast down to the kitchen, he starts on the dishes. You had expressed only once that it was your least favorite chore, and he had taken it upon himself to be the designated dishwasher of your group. Despite the shower running upstairs, the water was still scalding and he thanked Walter once again for finally caving and buying a new hot water heater and for Sy saving them money by installing it himself. The burning pain from the water distracted him from the heartbreak he felt coming from you. You always joked you had a radiating energy that affected those around you, but he didn’t think it was a joke.

When he first saw you, you shined so brightly you almost glowed. Your smile was like a beaming ray of sunlight, sending warmth straight through his heart. At first he thought he was dying, that you were an angel of some sort that had shown up to take him to his after life. But one look at Sy and Walter and he knew he wasn’t alone. Bringing you into their lives was like having eternal summer. And now Mikey had gone and shut your light off. He was lucky he was kicked out.

As soon as everything was dried and put away, August made his way upstairs where Sy was carrying you out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Walter followed behind with a brush and some lotion in hand. They met eyes for a moment before moving to sit beside you and Sy on the bed. Sy had you his lap sideways, rocking back and forth while you controlled your breathing. He let you cry in the shower until your breathing turned ragged and he recognized the onset of a panic attack setting in. Walter starts brushing your hair while August takes the lotion and starts rubbing your feet. Soon your breathing evens out and the sniffling quiets.

All three men watch you and you make eye contact with August. He gives you a small smile and brings your ankle up to his mouth for a kiss. His mustache tickles your skin and you pull it back with a small shriek. This causes all three men to chuckle.

“Are you okay, Kitten?” August mumbles. Walter and Sy turn to you pointedly. You hadn’t said anything to them since you ran away from Mikey. They knew you weren’t okay, but they needed you to open up to them so they could help.

“Not really.” you whisper. Your hand still stings from slapping Mikey, but even more so your chest hurts. It feels irrational to you. You have three gods in front of you, ready and willing to worship you, and you’re heartbroken over someone you knew was going to hurt you from the beginning. “I think I’m more pissed than anything. What if this ruins what we have? I don’t want to be here around him but that means I won’t be able to be with you guys as much.”

Sy burst out laughing. You look at him offended, only to catch the amusement on August’s face as well. You turn around to look at Walter and find him chuckling.

“What the fuck is so funny?” you almost yell. August rubs his hand along your naked thigh, bringing your attention down to him.

“Kitten, if you think we’re going to let that little twerp ruin one of the best things to happen to us, you must not hold us in too high of a regard.” he looks at you pointedly.

“Yeah, Sugar. You got me fucked up if you think I’m going to throw you away because of this. If anything, it’s Mikey that’s going in the trash.” Sy says with a smirk. You look at him tentatively, and he gives you his wink/blink. You give him a smile when you feel Walter kiss the top of your head. You look up to make eye contact with your furry lover.

“Besides, I kicked Mikey out,” he says. You immediately sit upright in Sy’s lap, scrambling to stand and look at Walter full on. You bring your hands to your hips, causing the towel to fall and you rush to catch it.

“What do you mean you kicked him out? Don’t cause issues with your family because of me, Walter, that’s crazy.” He just smiles at you. It isn’t fair how pretty he is, how pretty all three of them are. You shouldn’t be jealous because your boyfriends have prettier eyelashes than you do. He reaches for you, bringing you between his legs, spreading them wide to make room for your thick thighs.

“It’s only for a few days, Love. Give him some time to think about what he did and for all of us to cool down.”

“No promises on that last one,” August grumbles. Sy gives a hum of agreement.

“Regardless,” Walter starts, giving a pointed look to the other two men, “even if Michael is here, you still have every right to be in this house. Or we can start spending more time at your place. We can work around this, love.” He grabs your hands in his and brings you close to him. “We love you, Y/N.” he whispers. Tears start to fill your eyes.

“Yeah, Sugar. Sure, your apartment is small and crowded, and you have all those pretty rocks I’m too scared to touch,” Sy starts in, making you giggle.

“They’re called crystals, Sy.” you mumble.

“Whatever, they’re part of your little witchy shit and sets me on edge. But I wouldn’t be anywhere else, cause I love ya.”

“Aww you guys,” you say as the tears really start to flow. You look to August, waiting for him to take his turn to confess his feelings. He just rolls his eyes.

“All this sappy shit. Yes, I love you. This is probably the only time you’ll hear me say it out loud, so soak it up while you can,” he grumbles. You bend down and give him a kiss on his pouting lips.

“I love you, too.” you whisper as you move away from him.

“All of you. I didn’t want to get too close at the beginning because I didn’t want to have to choose between you three, but thank god you suggested this. I know I’m going to be a little down in the coming time, but I appreciate each of you and everything you do for me as a team and as individuals. I don’t know where I’d be without you guys.”

All three men wrap their arms around you like some kind of awkward python of arms and hair. You run one hand through Walter’s hair and the other down August’s back. Sy buries his face in your chest, and you send thanks to the divine universe for the beautiful men it has sent you.

*************************************************************************************************************

Mikey pulls up to his friend Evan’s house, aware of the gloom cloud hanging above his head. He’d called him as soon as he pulled out of the driveway at Walter’s, giving as little details as possible as to why he needed a place to crash. Evan was a great friend, but he didn’t need any more judgment today. He was already dreading calling his mother. How was he going to explain to her that he cheated on his girlfriend that he was sharing with his three older cousins? Up until today he wasn’t even sure it WAS cheating. I mean, you had the other three, why couldn’t he fuck other people too?

But then a memory arises in his mind. It had only been a couple months since you had met him and the other three men, and you were freaking out in the cooler at work. It had taken him five minutes to get you calmed enough to tell him what had you in such a state. When you finally confessed that you had caught feelings for him and his cousins, and that you didn’t want to choose between them, he had the best idea. That night he mentioned a poly relationship to August and Sy, unknowing of his cousin’s history of sharing women. When he pitched the idea to Walter, the detective was reluctant. But it took one look at your face when they presented the idea to you to convince the bear to cave.

What Mikey wasn’t prepared for was the jealousy he would feel sometimes. It seemed some days that you treated him like he was still a kid, and the nickname Baby Face only made it worse. The way you talked to the older three like they hung the moon, and the way you let them dominate you. It emasculated him, you never let him top you. When he saw MaKenna at a party one night, and she started flirting with him, he felt good. She talked to him like he knew what he was doing, stroking his ego and he felt on top of the world.

Looking back now, he knows he fucked up. He wished he could blame the alcohol, but he knew deep down that wasn’t an excuse.When you agreed to the poly proposal, you had sat everyone down for a deep discussion on the rules of the relationship and how to operate the slippery slope of romance. You had pressed the seriousness of open communication. If anyone was having any issues, it needed to be talked over and worked out. He just couldn’t bring himself to tell you how he was feeling. And now he may have lost you forever.

He looks up from his steering wheel when he hears a tap on his window. Evan stands there, waving a hand to get his attention. He exits the car, avoiding Evan’s questioning gaze as he gathered his things and followed his friend into the house. He sets his bag on the couch, a deep sigh leaving his chest. He hears Evan say something but didn’t pay attention to his words. He sat down and reached into his bag for his computer when he noticed he had packed one of your shirts that must have gotten mixed in with his laundry somehow. He brings it up to his face and takes a whiff. It still smells like you even after going through the wash and he’s surprised to feel the tears burn his eyes.

That’s how Evan finds him when he walks back in from the kitchen with two beers in hand. Mikey wasn’t one to show much emotion outside of excitement and horniness, so to see him crying really threw his friend for a loop.

“Hey, man, you okay?” he sets the two bottles on the coffee table and moves to sit beside Mike. As an EMT he’s used to having to de-escalate a situation, but this was different somehow.

“I cheated on Y/N,” Mike gets out once he calms down. Evan raises his brows in surprise. He couldn’t lie and say he was shocked. He knew exactly the kind of guy Mike was and exactly the woman you were. He told Mike once that he thought he was too immature for someone like you. You were a grown ass woman, not the little girls Mikey liked to play around with. You had your shit together, a good job and your own place, paid your own bills and never really asked for nor needed help. He had expressed his concerns when Mike had told him you accepted his offer to be shared with his cousins. But alas, Mikey didn’t listen. It took all the willpower Evan had in him not to say ‘I told you so’.

“With who?” he whispered. Getting loud and angry would do his friend no good right now.

“That MaKenna chick, the one you met at the party that one time.” Evan racked his brain, shifting through faces and names. Mike had introduced him to plenty of chicks over the last two years of their friendship.

“Is she the little redhead that worked at the bar with Y/N? The one who got fired for fucking a customer on the clock?”

“Is that why they fired her?” Mikey looked up.

“Yeah, man. My brother was there that night, said she ran out of the bar screaming and cussing everyone out. She may have also been drinking on the job.” Fuck, he had alot of apologizing to do.

“Look, I’m your friend, and as your friend it’s my responsibility to tell you when you fucked up. And I love you, bro, but you’re fucking stupid. What was going through your head, man?”

Mike wanted to be offended, but somewhere deep inside he was glad to have a friend who called him out on his shit.

“I don’t know, man. We were at this party and I was drinking and Y/N has been so busy with work and caught up in the other guys that it just felt like I didn’t exist anymore, ya know? And then when we do have sex, she’s always in control. It made me feel….” he trailed off. Evan nods his head, encouraging him to continue.

“I just felt like she saw me as some little kid she could play with, and never took me as seriously as she did them. I wasn’t a man in her eyes. And then MaKenna showed up and I just didn’t think. Now I may have lost her for some community pussy.”

Evan laughed at the last sentence, fully aware the same could be said of Mikey.

“Listen. You stay here for a few days, let her calm down, and figure out your own shit while you’re at it. And maybe get some ice for your face cause brother, she left her mark.” Mikey reaches up and touches his still stinging cheek.

“Leave it, let it be my reminder that I’m an idiot.”

“If you say so, man. But it’s turning purple so better go find some make up at the drug store before people start asking if you’ve been abused.”

*************************************************************************************************************

The next few days flew by in a blur. You’d had picked up extra shifts just to keep your mind focused on work and not Mikey. The three older men never really let you have a moment to yourself. If you were at work, they were sat at the very end of the bar. If you were at home, you had at least one wrapped around you and another lurking somewhere in the house. You didn’t mind, really. You had done enough crying over Mike. You, however, didn’t let them see the anxiety eating at you as the days drew closer to Mikey coming back to the house. Walter had tried to reassure you that everything would be fine, but you knew it would be so awkward. Sy had offered to move in with you, to which August protested that there wouldn’t be enough room because he’d be damned if he wasn’t moving in too. You let them bicker for an hour before shutting down the idea in general.

Sy had made sure August had taken you out for the day when Mikey had finally come back to the house. He didn’t deserve to even be in your presence. When the younger man walked through the door, Sy had given him a dirty look before going into the kitchen to start on a dinner he had been dying to have you try. Mike just nodded his head in acceptance before moving to lock himself in his bedroom. He was in there for an hour before he heard your laugh coming in through the front door. He had to physically restrain himself from running out to greet you, instead putting on his noise cancelling headphones and closed his eyes, praying for the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

It went on like this for weeks. If he happened to run into you around the house, you would avoid looking at him and run to another room, usually followed by Sy or August. Walter had picked up a new case and had barely been home. If Mike went to the bar with the guys, you would have the other bartender serve him.

Watching Sy and August love up on you was torture. It was like they were being extra affectionate just to tease him, looking right in his eyes when giving you a deep kiss or long hug. The worst was when he would hear you three at night, his room being right under the bed. Your cries of pleasure haunting him in his dreams.

It was getting towards the end of September, the weather was starting to get chilly and his classes were kicking his ass. He had resorted to moving in with Evan just so he could sleep. Walter had finally convinced you to move in, despite the tension between you and Mike. It hadn’t been an easy fight.

“Walt, baby, I really don’t think it’s a good idea. I still can’t even talk to him, living here is just going to make it worse.” you protest. It was on a rare night that he had come home from work and all three men had taken their turn ravishing you to exhaustion. You lay naked on your back in the middle of the bed, Sy half asleep with his face on your chest, August getting water and snacks in the kitchen, and Walter standing in the doorway to the bathroom towel drying his hair.

“But your lease is coming up, baby, and they’re going to raise your rent. What are you going to do, if you can’t renew it and can’t afford it?” Sy whispers against your breast.

“I can find another apartment, Sy.”

“Besides, Mike moved in with his friend, Evan.” If it wasn’t for Sy’s heavy body keeping yours pinned to the bed, you would have sat straight up.

“When?” you ask.

“A couple days ago. Said he couldn’t stand being in this house anymore, he couldn’t sleep.”

You both turn when you hear August coming up the stairs with his arms full. You took note of your favorite cookies and some waters. He takes one to Walter, before moving to sit on your other side and feeding you a bite of cookie.

“I just hope this doesn’t cause any problems with you guys and his mom…” you trail off. Walter had told you about Liza’s phone call when Mike told her what happened. You knew your boys probably got an earful, but eventually she came to understand her son was the one in the wrong. That still didn’t save them from the scolding over the idiocracy of their poly relationship.

They didn’t care though. It wasn’t her relationship, therefore her opinion didn’t matter.

“Liza will get over it. You, my dear, are OUR priority. Mikey moved out of his own freewill and you need a place to live. You can have Mikey’s old room, if you’re worried about losing a space to call your own.” Tears come to your eyes. God, you love them so much.

“Yeah, you can put all your witchy shit in there,” Sy says. All of you just laugh and carry on with your night.

August and Sy had helped you pack your apartment and, with a little help from Geralt, who had recently started spending time with your little group, had moved you in with your polycule. You sold most of your furniture aside from your dressers and mattress. Walter had even set up a space around the house for your cat, happy to have a free mouse catcher for when the rodents invaded during the snowy months. Everything was going great, you had your boys, work was banging so you had some extra cash in your pocket. Soon the sting from Mikey’s betrayal ebbed away to a dull throb.

It was mid-October when shit really hit the fan. The band at work was super popular around the local community and everyone was getting lit. Your boss had given you the night off per your request, but you just couldn’t seem to stay away from work, even off the clock. You had dressed up extra nice tonight, donning an outfit that showed off all your goodies. Sy and August had been to the barber a few days before and looked so yummy. Walter had opted to take the night and spend time with Faye during her time off for fall break. You had invited Geralt but he said the loud noises would mess with his sensitive ears.

After grabbing drinks and saying hi to your friends in the band, you take a seat at a table with the guys, talking to some regulars and friends. The night was going great, for at least an hour. Until Mikey walked in. Just seeing him pissed you off again. You made eye contact for just a split second before turning away, giving him the cold shoulder. Nothing gets past your two soldiers though, and both men clock onto their younger cousin making his way through the crowd. Sy slings one arm around your shoulders and August moves to block you into the booth, stuck between the two beefcakes. You keep your face forward, your focus solely on the band.

‘Fuck she looks good’ Mikey thinks. You had put on his favorite teddy, tits pushed almost to your chin, tucked into a pair of jeans so tight they might as well have been painted on. Your hair was curled and wild, and your make up was done in his favorite style. He missed the nights of watching the mascara run down your face from choking on his….. He shakes his head, starting to regret coming out tonight. One of your coworkers had told him you had taken the night off, and he was in the mood to drink himself stupid. He hadn’t spent a night sober since he moved out. He can’t even self pleasure any more, the guilt killing his sex drive. He refused to look at women. Not when the one he wanted was so close yet so far away. He tries ignoring the glares being sent to him from Sy and August. They hadn’t forgiven him for his mistake. To be honest, he hadn’t exactly forgiven himself.

When the band goes on break, you extract yourself from your loving bodyguards to go to the restroom. Locking yourself in the large stall, you turn your back to lean against the wall, taking a deep breath, before doing your thing and leaving the bathroom. You sneak out the door to the back patio quickly, before Sy or August can see you. You loved them deeply, but the past couple weeks they have been a tad overbearing. You move past all the smokers and into the back parking lot, taking in the cold air, letting it freeze/burn your lungs.

The healing you had done the past few weeks seemed to fly out the window at seeing him again. You missed him. You hated it, but you missed him so much. The stupid faces he would make when you were in a bad mood. The puppy dog eyes he would give you when asking for a bite of your food. The way he vigorously rubbed his face in your chest when he was tired and acting like a toddler. The memories cause tears to sting your eyes, and you put your fingers under your eyes to keep your makeup from running.

A cough from behind brings you back to the present, turning to find Mikey standing behind you. He had his head down, rubbing the back of his neck and scuffing his foot on the ground. It pleased and pained you to see him looking so rough. He was always pale, but his skin was almost gray. His hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in days and his clothes were rumpled. He looked like shit, and you loved it and hated it in a strange emotional paradox.

“Hey,” you whisper, and your heart breaks all over again. The circles under his eyes wouldn’t have been covered by the best concealer in the world. You just want to pull him into you and love every ounce of pain out of his eyes. But he broke your trust and you have to stand your ground.

“Hi,” he whispers back. It’s tense for a moment, and you’re wishing you would have snuck your pack of smokes into your purse without August seeing. All of them knew you had your vices, but August was adamant about breaking this specific bad habit. As if reading your mind, Mikey hands you a cigarette, and you take it with a quiet ‘thank you’. He lights it for you, and you both look each other in the eye before turning away again.

“Mikey-”

“I-”

You both speak at the same time, before smiling softly at each other. You motion for him to start first, anxious to hear what he has to say.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. What I did was wrong and I really hurt you. Nothing can excuse what I did, but if it’s any consolation, I feel like shit,” he clears his throat, and avoids eye contact with you.

“You look like shit,” you huff. He throws his head back and barks a laugh. His shoulders shake and you know it’s not because he finds anything funny.

“Thank you, Sweetcheeks.” You smile at his nickname.

“Seriously, Mikey, are you okay? You look like you haven’t seen the sun in weeks.”

“No, babes, to be honest I’m not. I can’t sleep without drinking half a bottle a night, I don’t think I’ve had a solid meal in two weeks, and my sex drive is completely gone. Hell, I can’t even masturbate!” The more he talks, the more manic he sounds until he shouts that last sentence, drawing the eyes of some customers walking by. You slap your hand to your face to hide from embarrassment.

“Sorry. But yeah, I’m not okay. But I brought this on to myself,” he mumbles. You would disagree, but you can’t. He made his decision, now he can lay in the bed he made.

“You look great, though. They must be taking good care of you,” he says almost bitterly.

“Yes, they are. I’m actually using your old room as an art studio.”

“Wow. That’s great.” You just nod your head. And then it really processes in your head, and you can’t help the petty happiness that fills you at the thought of him not being able to get it up. Your face must give away how you’re feeling.

“What?” Mikey asks.

“Would it be shitty of me to say it pleases me immensely that your dick isn’t working right now?” Now Mikey really laughs, from deep in his belly and full of mirth. You start laughing with him, and when you make eye contact, it only seems to amuse you further. Soon you both are wiping tears and holding your stomachs.

“No, babe, I wouldn’t fault you at all for taking pleasure in my pain. Matter of fact, if my suffering makes you happy, I will do it gladly.” You roll your eyes at his cheesiness, but damn it if that wasn’t what made you fall in love with him to begin with.

“I can admit I miss you, too, Mikey. But don’t think that this simple conversation is going to make everything magically better. You have a lot of trust to build back up, and not just with me.” You warn him. His eyes light up, and like a trick of the shadows around you, his skin almost seemed to glow back to life.

“I’ll do whatever you want, Sweetcheeks. I promise, I won’t so much as LOOK at another woman. You won’t regret this.” His body jerks forward, arms open to hug you before he hesitates. You open your arms in acceptance, ready to move past this awkwardness and be with your Mikey again. After a long few minutes of just soaking in each other after weeks apart, you move back and wipe your eyes once more. A gust of wind blows around you and sends a shiver over your naked shoulders and back.

“Let’s get you inside, Sweetcheeks,” Mikey says, shrugging off his zip up jacket and throwing it over your shoulders. You both move to go back inside just as the door opens and August and Sy come barreling out. August glares at the cigarette still in your hand while Sy shoots a dirty look at Mike’s jacket around you.

“Uh oh, Mikey, we should probably put out the smokes. Here comes Captain Killjoy and Agent Sourpuss,” you giggle.

“Careful, Sweetcheeks, they’re likely to punish you,” he jokes back. Two sets of cerulean eyes study you and Mikey closely. August looks ready to murder the younger man, while Sy just looks confused.

“So what’s going on here?” the bull grumbles.

“Mike and I have had a conversation, and he has apologized,” you start slowly. You’re unsure just how well they will react to this news.

“So one little ‘I’m sorry’ and he’s just forgiven?” August seethes. You take a deep breath. You love your Scorpio man, but Lord did he test you.

“It’s not all magically fixed, no. We still need to have a very long talk, and it’s going to take a lot of work, but for right now, tonight, we are going to leave the past in the past, let go of any grudges,” you look pointedly to both men, “and go enjoy our friend Alex’s singing and eat some good food because you,” you turn to Mikey, “are skin and bones. Am I clear?”

You had used what you call your ‘mom voice’, leaving no room for argument. All three men follow you back into the bar, Mikey sitting by the wall and letting you lock him into the booth. Things were going well until SHE walked in. That redheaded little hussy. It was a good thing Sy listened to you when you told him to keep you away from the whiskey. The last thing you needed was to go to jail tonight. None of the guys seemed to have noticed, so you chose to ignore it.

At the next intermission, Mikey decided he’d take the opportunity to get another round for the table. You kept your eyes stuck to him the entire time, launching yourself from the booth when you see MaKenna walk up to Mikey. He glances at her before looking around the room nervously. Sy and August follow but stay a few feet away. You sidle up to Mikey and wrap an arm around his waist and using the other hand to bring his face down to yours and sealing a deep kiss to his lips. You open your mouth and make a show of mingling your tongue with Mike’s, letting this bitch know he’s yours. Mikey follows you as you pull away, whining low in his throat when you break the kiss. You then turn to the girl beside you.

“Oh, hi. I forgot you existed,” you say. She’s looking between you and Mikey, very confused.

“I didn’t know you and Mike were dating,” she says. You narrow your eyes at her, knowing she was lying. She knew damn well what she did.

“MaKenna was just trying to hook up with me again. I was just telling her no,” Mikey rushed to tell you. The last thing he needed after making up with you was you thinking he hadn’t changed. The only acknowledgement you give him is a hum and a nod.

“Yeah, after he fucked you he realized he needed a real woman. I’m surprised you even have the guts to show up here after being fired the way you were. You really must feel no shame,” the venom dripping from your tongue could kill a horse, but damn if it wasn’t sexy. Mikey was trying so hard to hide the tightening in his jeans.

“I don’t know what you mean,” the smaller female starts.

“Oh, please. You got caught fucking another woman’s man, again, on the clock. And when his girlfriend showed up to kick your ass, it caused drama that didn’t need to be started here at work. You think you would have learned from that, but apparently you have no sense of self-preservation. I suggest you start looking for something safe to do, because I won’t be as nice as the last girl. You got lucky a bouncer was able to convince her not to knock your teeth in, but the bouncers here love me and would highly encourage it. So find someone else to fuck with, before that butterface of yours gets permanently damaged.”

All three of your boys groan. Seeing you so riled up was so hot, and they knew hearing you threaten someone shouldn’t have been as sexy as it was. The girl in front of you flinches before walking away from you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath through your nose. You’re typically not a confrontational person, but it felt so good to put someone in their place. And to do it without laying a hand on her.

“That was hot as fuck,” Mikey says behind you. You chuckle, turning back to flash him a flirty smile before grabbing his hand and moving to go grab the other two. The lust you see in August’s eyes sets you aflame. Sy just looks giddy, like a child. He knows exactly what’s about to happen. After grabbing your things and saying your goodbyes, feeling smug as you watch MaKenna move around the bar to avoid you. You pay out your tabs, leaving generous tips for the bartender and leaving with promises to fill her in on all the dirty details later. Gossip makes the work shift go by faster and Monday night was gonna be a HOT, tea party.

You almost run to Sy’s truck, August following closely behind to his car parked in the next spot over. Sy barrels past his cousin and quickly grabs you, turning you around and grabbing your cheeks in both hands. He tilts your head back and stares deeply into your eyes.

“I hate every bitch that isn’t you, you absolute fucking goddess.” he rumbles. The absolute desire radiating from his bulky form affecting the other two men. You giggle almost manically as he kisses you sloppily. You can taste the Jack he’s been drinking all night. He smacks his lips when he pulls away, reaching down to slap your ass before turning and climbing into his Chevy. August chuckles at his cousin’s antics, turning and unlocking his car. Mikey opens the door to the truck for you, helping you in by pushing under your asscheeks. It’s almost like your lovers had an obsession or something.

August eyes the actions closely, still suspicious of his younger cousin’s motives. Mikey catches his eye and looks down to the ground. You notice and give August a pointed look that said ‘stop it’. He couldn’t help it. It was his job to protect you, even from emotional pain. You stare even harder until he softens his expression.

“August, do you mind giving Mike a ride back home with us?” you say so sweetly it almost rotted his teeth. He huffs at you and you give him the bedroom begging eyes. The same eyes you give him when……. God damn it. You really knew how to get under his skin. He rolls his eyes to try to hide just how much you affect him.

“Fine. See you back at the house.” Mike hesitated, but moved when you poked him in the ribs and motioned for him to get in the car before shutting yourself in the truck, kicking your feet up on the dash. The Chevy rumbles to life and Sy peels out, leaving a trail of smoke in the parking lot. August rolls his eyes at the unnecessary display of masculinity. ‘Dumb country boy’.

The ride is silent and awkward, Mike fidgeting with his hoodie strings and bouncing his legs. August kept his focus on the road, ignoring the anxiety vibrating off the younger man. Ten minutes felt like an eternity. When they pulled in the drive, Mike finally felt like he could breathe. Sy had just turned off the truck when August put the car in park. You hopped out of the driver’s side, hair sticking out sideways and your lipstick smudged. Sy follows, mouth and cheeks red from your make out session. August rolls his eyes.

“Impatient asshole.” Sy just shoots him a smug smile. You giggle and reach up to kiss your agent, knowing he was just grumpy cause Sy got to have you first. He hums in satisfaction as you pull away, picking you up and walking you into the house. You take note of Walter’s car parked in the garage and try to wiggle out of August’s arms to go greet your other lover. Mike follows hesitantly, hands deep in his pockets and dragging his feet on the ground. The past several times he’s been in this house hasn’t exactly been pleasant.

August finally relents and lets you down. As soon as your feet hit the floor you’re on your way up the stairs, almost tripping in your haste. A strong arm wraps around your waist to catch you, and you mumble a thank you without looking at who it is and continuing your way up to the detective. He’s laying in bed with a case file in his hand, one arm behind his head. His hair is wet and he’s only in boxers. He looks up when you come in through the door, eyes light and a flush in your cheeks.

“You’re home early, and it looks like you had a good time. You’ve been absolutely ravished” You climb onto the bed, the alcohol finally catching up to you.

“I did! Mikey apologized and came home with us. Sy is at fault for the ruined lipstick.” The detective raises his brows in surprise.

“That’s great, Love.” he says, getting distracted by the three men filing into the room behind you. He makes eye contact with the youngest man, giving him a nod in greeting. Mike nods back, at least Walter isn’t as intimidating as August.

“And then that bitch showed up at the bar, that’s why we came home early,” you growl. Walter looks confused before Sy happily clarifies. The detective thought it odd his cousin was so excited to relay the news that the girl who Mike had cheated on you with had shown up to ruin your night.

“She tried hooking up with me again. Sweetcheeks, I didn’t tell you about her flirting with me so you would threaten her.” Mike explains. Walter raises his brows further and looks at you pointedly. Sometimes you forget he’s actually a cop.

“I didn’t threaten her! I told her she needed to find something safe to do, that’s just giving good advice.” you grumble.

“And it was so sexy when she did it.” Sy exclaims. Well, that explains that. You flush at the praise, tingles running down your spine. Walter chances a look at August, and the memory of you, the deadly venom in your tone, as you threatened the smaller girl just fed the flames. The lust in the agent’s eyes and the giddiness from Sy sparks something in Walter as well. You quickly catch on to the energy change in the room, biting your lip and making eye contact with each man. Mikey is unsure, though. You had just forgiven him for sleeping with someone else. Would you even want him to touch you? You notice his hesitation, beckoning him forward with a crook of your finger. He knows that look, and he’s happy to let you be in charge again.

He kneels at the foot of the bed, hands laid flat on his thighs, head down in submission. You hum in satisfaction, crawling to get closer to him, ass in the air and hips swaying back and forth. You hear a chorus of groans ring around the room, but keep your focus on the boy in front of you.

“Poor Mikey. He confessed to me earlier that he’s been having trouble getting it up here lately, boys.”

“Serves him right,” August spits. You want to roll your eyes at the hostility, but know that would only lead to a paddling later.

“But he’s apologized, Auggie. It’s time to move past it, don’t you think he’s suffered enough?” It took Mike a moment to remember the dynamic at play here. You submitted to August, and he submitted to both of you. He could only imagine the hell he had coming in his near future.

“By the universe, sure. But I think you have been too lenient on him, Kitten.”

“Agreed.” That comes from Sy. You turn behind you to look at Walter, who gives his nod in agreement to the other two.

“So what do you suggest I do?” Sy shrugs.

“That’s up to you, Sugar. You’re in charge here.” You contemplate for a moment before an idea pops into your head. Mike gulps as he watches a sinister smile bloom across your lipstick smeared mouth. The deviant look in your eyes lets him know he’s in for a long night.

“Your punishment, Baby Face, is to look but not touch.”

Oh yeah, he’s well and truly fucked.

*************************************************************************************************************

You flop back onto the bed, gasping for breath and covered in sweat. Sy groans beside you, just as sweaty and breathless. Walter leans his back against the headboard, and August and Mikey are curled together on your naked thighs. One solid hour of sex and passion had sobered you up. As the endorphin high slowly subsides, you move to get up, attempting to extract yourself from the pile of skin and hair and sweat.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Sy grumbles.

“I have to pee, let me up.” you grumble. August and Mike groan as they move off you, Walter giving you a hand to keep your balance as you stand on the mattress and maneuver your way off the bed and to the bathroom. You start the shower, not enjoying the sticky feeling of sweat and cum drying on your skin. Once deemed warm enough, you step under the spray and the let water wash over you.

You close your eyes and turn to wash your face. Now sober, and in a post-nut clarity state of mind, you think about Mikey and just how easily you gave into him tonight. The boys were right, you were too lenient. You said you needed to talk, but what would you say? You had already told him he hurt you, and that was still needing to be further discussed, but you also wanted to know why. You let out a deep sigh and run a hand down your face.

You flinch when you feel an arm wrap around you, turning to find Walter giving you a worried look. You give him a small smile, turning back into the water to finish scrubbing the make up from your face, before turning to grab your body wash. He stops you, grabbing the soap and your loofah before gently starting to wash your chest. You hum, closing your eyes and leaning back to let the water flow through your hair.

“What were you thinking about, Love?” Walter asks softly, causing you to open your eyes.

“Mikey, and the talk we all need to have.” you whisper. “Just don’t know how I want to go about it.”

“You want to talk it through with me? Help process your thoughts before going in blind?” you huff a laugh out of your nose, before nodding.

“I want to know why he did it, but at the same time, I’m scared to really find out.” He nods his head, putting his hands on your shoulders to turn you so he can start washing your back.

“I’m also confused on how to get over the hurt. The anxiety and that little voice whispering in my ear that he’s going to do it again.” You feel him hum as he starts to massage your shoulders, releasing the knots in your neck.

“Unfortunately, my dear, that little voice may never go away. But Michael put that voice there, and if he’s truly sorry and serious about being with you again, he will work very hard to chase that little voice away.” You nod, understanding what he’s saying, and you appreciate his wisdom, but it does little to ease the heaviness in your chest. Your thoughts are interrupted when Sy burst into the shower.

“Y’all are having a party in here and didn’t invite me?’ he says, fake offense on his bearded face. You chuckle and roll your eyes.

“It’s a shower therapy session, Captain. Just working through some thoughts and feelings.” He raises his eyebrows, not expecting that retort.

“Well, make room. I need to wash off.” he pushes into the small space. Walter grunts while you giggle, rinsing the last of the soap off and slipping out of the shower and grabbing a towel. You can hear the two men in the shower bickering but pay no mind as you make your way to the bedroom to steal one of Walter’s sweaters. You take note that the bedsheets have been removed and the other two men are no longer in the room.

After drying off and getting dressed in the sweater, some panties, and knee high socks to keep your legs warm, you move to go downstairs where you knew August would be putting together after care snacks. Walter and Sy are leaving the bathroom as you head to the bathroom door, stopping to give them both a kiss before leaving the room and going downstairs.

As you had predicted, August was in the kitchen, pajama bottoms hanging off his delectable hips, putting together sandwiches and juice. Sometimes you think he took the nickname “Daddy” too seriously. You look to your right to see Mike in the laundry room, pulling out clean bedsheets and a bigger comforter. This leaves you puzzled, Mikey never did chores. As if he can read your thoughts, he looks up and gives you a sheepish smile.

“Just trying to help out.” he mumbles. You just nod your head, your brain still trying to compute what it was seeing. You must have looked like a SIM, just standing there staring. You snap back into reality when August clears his throat, giving you a look of confusion.

“Yes, Daddy?’ you say. It was almost instinctual at this point to call him that at home. He just simply smirks, before grabbing your hand and moving you to sit at the kitchen island in front of a plate of food. You start to salivate at the sight of a sandwich and fruit. He puts a bottle of water beside the plate before kissing your forehead and moving to put together plates for everyone else.

You munch quietly on your fruit, mind going back to the conversation you’re going to have to have with your four boys. Walter and Sy were easy to talk to, giving you the space to freely and safely speak about how you feel. The strength that radiates from them giving you a sense of peace, leaving you unafraid of your feelings. You didn’t have to tell August what was on your mind. He had an uncanny ability to guess how you’re feeling most times. ‘You can’t control your face, Baby Girl.’

You lift your head up from your snack when you hear Walter and Sy come thundering down the stairs. Both are dressed just as August, leaving you in a sea of man titties and hair. This is the closest to Heaven you will ever get and you can die a happy woman secure in that knowledge. Immediately Sy goes to a plate of food, grumbling a thank you to August in between bites. Walter takes a plate and sits beside you on a stool. August and Sy are standing against it on the opposite side, and you see Mikey shuffle his feet to your other side.

“Guys, we need to talk.” you say. Walter doesn’t react, August and Sy just blink, but you feel Mikey tense up beside you. He knew it was coming still. He just didn’t think you would do it so quickly after what just happened upstairs. He hadn’t even thought about what he was going to say to the other guys. Hell, you didn’t know how to even begin. Now that you’re thinking about it, this probably should have been a one on one talk with Mikey.

“I know that things aren’t going to be the way it was before,” you start. You don’t have to clarify what you meant by before. Just that word alone is enough to drive a knife through Mikey’s heart. You didn’t look at him directly, but he knew you were talking to him. The three older men stay quiet, letting you get what you need to off your chest. August’s sharp attention to detail doesn’t fail to notice the sweat starting to bead on Mikey’s forehead. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you are about to ask.

“Why, Mikey?” your voice cracks, pushing your plate away and looking up at him with tears in your eyes. A lump formed in his throat and he didn’t know what to say for a minute. He didn’t know how to tell you it was because he felt like less of a man in your eyes compared to the other three. How could he tell you he was insecure and emotionally immature and he doesn’t want you to look at him with pity.

“I…” he voice cracks. You raise your brows, anticipating his answer.

“Was it something I did? Something I said?” you croak. This pisses Sy off.

“Don’t go blaming yourself, Darlin’. Mike made the decision to do what he did, no matter what you did or said to him,” he almost barks. You turn to him, seeing his face and chest starting to turn red with anger. You just nod, making eye contact with August who just gives a nod in agreement. You turn back to Mikey.

“He’s right. I could have just talked to you about what I was feeling.”

“What were you feeling?’ Walter asks. If he could get Mikey talking about it, the sooner it unburdens you.

“Emasculated, ignored,” he mumbles. “I just, you call me Baby Face, and it made me feel like you see me as a kid, not a man like these three,” he motions to the others.

“That’s because you are a kid,” Sy grumbles. You turn and give him a pointed look, telling him to shut the fuck up with your eyes.

“He’s right, Baby Cakes, I am. It took me moving out and doing some self-reflection, to realize I’m not yet a man. Hell, I can’t even grow facial hair yet!” You all chuckle, fully aware of just how virile it makes the other three look. “I just, felt like less of a man. But those weeks apart showed me how little I really know and just how much I still have to learn about being, not just a good man, but a good man for you.” You nod along, listening intently and understanding where he’s coming from.

“I wasn’t aware of just how jealous I was going to feel about sharing you. It was like everytime I wanted alone time with you, one of the others needed you more.”

“That’s understandable, but baby you have to tell me when you’re feeling neglected like that,” you say, reaching out to grab his hand in yours. You bring it up to your mouth for a kiss, before setting it back down on the counter.

“It’s not that hard, really. Pick one night a week when she can be all yours,” that comes from August, face stoic as ever. Mikey wanted to get an attitude, but remembered that he should be taking the advice.

“Or just tell us when you want some one on one time, we’ll give you a couple hours,” Sy says.

“And jealousy is normal, but you gotta talk to me, Mikey,” you say, bringing his attention back to you. “I’m sorry my nickname made you feel that way, I can find other nicknames to call you.”

“You can call me whatever you want, baby. I realized it doesn’t matter, as long as I’m with you.”

“But why her?” you ask. It was bad enough that he cheated, but with someone you had told him made you feel insecure.

“I don’t know. She showed up at a party one night, and some petty part of me wanted to make you feel the same way watching you with them made me feel. It was immature and wrong.” A part of you could understand that. You were young and immature once too, and you could go from pretty to petty with one letter.

“Do you understand what that did to her?” August says. He wants to yell, but the look on your face says he needs to be calm. Mike shakes his head. In all of his self-reflection, he considered he had hurt you but didn’t think to what extent.

“You almost killed her self-esteem. It took me two weeks just to get her to be comfortable with being naked, just with herself. She didn’t leave bed for anything other than work for a month. Hell, Geralt wasn’t able to touch her for a week because she couldn’t stop crying, and you know how he feels about emotions.” Sy says.

“Geralt is coming around?” Mike says.

“That’s not the point,” Walter chimes in.

“Right. Baby, I’m sorry,” Mikey starts. You just shake your head.

“It’s okay. I’m glad you were honest with me. Just, PLEASE, start talking to me about how you feel. Communication is the only way this is going to work,” you have to emphasize the last sentence heavily. He nods his head furiously. You open your arms for a hug, Mikey wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tightly.

“Though, I do have one request,” he trails off. You hum, waiting to hear what he has to say.

“Can I top you at least twice a week?”

You blink, before bursting out laughing, breaking the hug and leaning back onto Walter as your body shakes. You can feel him laughing behind you, and hear Sy chuckling. August rolls his eyes, typical Mikey.

“Anything you want, Baby Boy. I love you, thanking you for talking to me,” you say, leaning over and giving him a deep kiss. He kisses you back just as lovingly. He pulls back, gazing at you adoringly before turning to his older cousins.

“I’m sorry to you guys, too. I was the one who brought up this whole arrangement not knowing just what it would take to maintain it.”

August just nods, not having fully forgiven him for what he did to you, he couldn’t care less about a slight done to himself. Walter and Sy just mumble “it’s okay.”

“But I want to thank you, too. Thank you for cleaning up my mess and taking the best care of her. I really owe you guys,” he rubs the back of his neck, unsure how they would respond to that.

“Well, we took care of her because we love her, that’s what you do when you love someone, you take care of them,” Walter says. You smile at that, full of love for your big grump.

“And I plan on making it up to her every day.” he looks deep into your eyes, hoping to really drive home his promise. You smile and cup his face, thumb caressing his cheek. He turns and kisses your palm, before putting his hand over yours and lacing your fingers together. The tender moment is broken by your wide yawn. Sy claps his hands.

“Alright, Little Girl, bed time!” he moves around the island to pick you up, never letting you release Mikey’s hand. Sy carries you upstairs, your arm slung over his shoulder to keep your fingers locked with Mike’s. August starts cleaning the kitchen while Walter puts together the bedsheets Mike had dropped when you started your talk. Sy keeps you in his arms as Walter makes the bed, Mike just staring at you, so thankful for your graciousness.

As soon as the bed is finished, Sy lays you gently in the middle, letting Mike take his place by your side in the bed. Just as Walter was going to climb in with you, his phone rings. You groan, knowing a phone call this late can only mean he’s got another lead on his case. He gives you a quick kiss before moving to the closet and answering his phone. As predicted, he gets dressed in jeans and his sweater, pulling his boots on before giving you one more kiss and leaving the bedroom. You hear the door shut downstairs and send up a prayer to any deity that will listen to keep him safe.

You take the usual position, on your back so you can have one on each side and one on top of your chest. Mike is to your left and Sy decides he wants to be in between your legs tonight. August comes into the bedroom, turning off lights before climbing in to your right. Tucked in between three out of the four loves of your life, you drift into the best sleep you’ve had in weeks, surrounded by love and hair.

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Taglist: @just-ten-cents @shellyshellshell @wa-ni @summersong69

#captain syverson x reader #reader insert #captain syverson #walter marshall x reader #mike (hellraiser)#henry cavill fanfic #august walker x reader #henry cavill #reverse harem #fan fiction

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myanmy · 2 months

Text

Unrequired feelings

I LOVE ANGST!!!!!!!

Summary: You fell for Jack and you thought he liked you too, only to be proven the contary.

Word count: 1720

Warnings: cheating? But not cheating because they weren't together. (as you can see I'm very good with warnings)

Your relationship with Jack had always been weird. In the beginning it was because you were a woman and he wasn’t used to having that just yet on his ship, but he felt obligated to help you, since he was partially the reason the house you worked so hard on building burned to the ground. You were rightfully mad and against all your survival instincts, went to have a talk with the famous Captain Jack Sparrow himself and let him hear a piece of your mind. When you somehow manage to find his ship the men on his crew refused to tell you where the goddamned pirate was, but you had previously heard a lot of stories about him and the most famous one was that he was a drunk who spent the majority of his money and time on rum and women. Luckily the rumors had been right and you found him in the second pub you search, mentally you ask yourself how the hell the hundreds of people searching for him didn’t already have him locked up, the man was as obvious as a rock. You ordered him to repay the damages for your house and he obviously didn’t have that amount of money on him, so instead he offered you a deal and now you are sure you weren’t in your right state of mind, because you had accepted.

Eventually your relationship had gotten better, the nasty looks you gave him stopped and you had even grown to like the dumb and yet so lucky bastard. Your relationship with the crew had also grown immensely, at first they seemed skeptical and even disappointed in their captain for bringing a woman on deck, but with time some just learned to accept you while the majority had become your friends and at some point you had began to see them as a family, a family that supported each other, saved each other asses while also annoying the shit out of you.

Your interactions with Jack had become strange to say the least, you would spend the whole night on the deck while drinking rum, him managing to drown a whole lot more than you, but still. You would talk for hours and hours and when there was nothing else to talk about, you would stare at the sky, laying on the wood floor of the ship while lost in your own separate thoughts, the silence always comforting and never awkward. That was until the next morning, where Jack would avoid you at all costs, when you asked a question he would answer with short answers and didn’t even bother looking at you, when he felt hungry and was planning to get something to eat, he wouldn't call you to eat with him as usual. The urge to punch his beautiful face was always huge, but you also wanted to understand what was going on with him. How can someone be talking all night about their life stories and the next day just act like you are a complete burden?

Then Elizabeth Swann came, you didn’t hate the girl, god knows she’s in a worst situation that you are, however you didn’t like the fact that now Jack had all the time in the world for this girl he just met. It was one of those nights, where the sea was quiet and for some reason sleep just didn’t seem to be your friend today, so you grab a robe beside the bed and wrap it around yourself. Jack had stolen the robe from a rich old woman’s house and gifted it to you, saying he thought of you as soon as he saw it. The rich fabric felt like clouds in your skin, making you warmer against the cold that was surely out on the deck. You make your steps as light as possible, aware that the wood creaked with the smallest of movements. You open the door to the main deck, only to hear voices on the quarter deck above you, two voices to be precise. One you had learned to like quite a lot, the other you were just growing accustomed to. You hear Jack telling Elizabeth one of his unbelievable stories he had told you, followed by her laughing and adding a few questions, only for him to answer them quite excitedly, just like he had done with you.

You feel a weird thing in your heart, the feeling traveling up to your throat and you felt like you were back to when you were a little child, holding the tears in while telling yourself how stupid you are and how you’re over exaggerating it. You stay there for a few more minutes, your body and mind telling you to stop and listen, maybe he would leave some details out while telling that story to her, maybe he wouldn't tell her the most sensitive topics he had told you, because he had said that he hadn’t told that story to anyone else and had only told you because he trusted you, right? Right?

You stayed long enough to figure he wasn’t leaving any part out and slowly closed the door, hoping they wouldn’t notice the sound of it closing. Luckily because you were a girl, the crew had agreed that it was better if you had a little place for yourself and didn’t sleep in the hammocks between the men, you thought they were being mean and just didn’t want to be close to you, however now you were totally glad they did it. You weren’t sure if they had done it because they just didn’t like you back then or simply wanted you to be comfortable and in the process make themselves comfortable, that didn’t matter now, but you sure were glad and thankful that you had your own small tiny room for yourself. You laid on the bed and let the tears fall slowly, telling yourself that it was okay to over exaggerate while you were alone. In the morning when you wake up you can go back to the non feeling and definitely not a sad person that had lost one of the most precious friends they had.

The next weeks kept going on like this, some nights you would awake late at night and open the door to the main deck slightly, hoping there would be no voices and while sometimes there weren’t, most did and you would go back to your room, each night crying a little less.

“What’s goin’ on lass?” Gibbs asks while you try to tie some knots to keep everything in place.

“Nothing.” You answer, swiping the sleeve of your shirt on your forehead.

“There’s definitely somethin’. You aren’t even looking at him with the angry stare.” He adds.

You sigh, talking about your feelings were not something you were good at, especially when you yourself wasn’t sure what exactly you were feeling. “It’s nothing Gibbs.” You feel his eyes on you for a few more seconds, making it obvious he didn’t believe you, but eventually gave up and walked away.

That night you couldn’t even close your eyes properly and decide to try the deck, praying to whatever god was listening that they weren’t there. When you open the door the slightest bit and don’t listen to their voices, you almost let out a long breath, only when you open the door a bit more and look up, you see them…kissing. One of his hands is around her waist while the other is on the back of her head and her arms are around his neck, their lips meeting in a hungry kiss. You normally would manage the tears until you were back in your room, this time however they flowed as you watched, watched as she had everything you wanted. When you come back to your senses, you simply turn around, not caring about the open door, a clear sign that someone had been there, though you were sure they wouldn’t figure it was you.

You always knew Jack had his affairs, I mean, he was Jack Sparrow. His life involved around rum, the sea and women, but for some reason this one felt different and it hurt, it hurt so much. You didn’t want to admit it, but you had fallen for the pirate, even with you knowing it wasn't a good idea falling for a pirate, especially one with so much of a reputation.

That night you spend crying and writing letters to your closest friends, Gibbs and some men in the crew you had befriended. You tried writing a letter for Jack, only to write his name and not a word surging in your mind after, so after hundreds of tries you give up and throw all the wasted paper on the trash. Tomorrow the ship would stop in Tortuga and you would wait until everyone got off before you put all the letters in the specific hammocks and then…you would leave. Leave this life behind, leave all the running and stealing, but mainly, you would leave him.

A short time after the sun had risen, the ship stopped in the port. Your hands were sweaty, your breath was short, and your pulse was pounding in your ears. You were nervous, and there was no way around it. This was a big moment, something you had been dreading for hours and now that it was here, all you could do was try to keep your head on straight. Your nerves were frayed, but you were going to do this, one way or another.

After all you could hear were voices from outside the ship, the soft wind and the calm waves is when you start doing everything you had planned. You place the letters, each one gaining a tear dropping from your eyes, then you grab the essential things you had already placed in a bag. You take one last look around, flashes of good memories appearing everywhere you look, but unfortunately memories aren't enough to keep you here. You step out of the ship, knowing this was the last time you would ever be seeing it and as childish as it sounds, you mentally say goodbye, goodbye to everyone and to everything involving pirates, but more specifically Captain Jack Sparrow.

I'm writting new characters yay. Don't worry, I'll still write for Rick, trust me when I say that my crushes always stay the same, so at some point I'll write for him again. I've noticed that there isn't a lot of Jack Sparrow fanfics out here and it's so sad, I mean, it's Johnny Depp, have writers really not seen him as Jack? Anyways, so I thought I'd give it a try. Hope you guys enjoy it. 💟

#pirates of the caribbean #jack sparrow x reader #no use of y/n #jack sparrow #angst #angst with a sad ending #betrayal #unrequited feelings #johnny depp

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glamaphonic · 2 months

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But no for real all the "he should've gone to find Daryl/Morgan/had a protracted reunion with XYZ character instead of focusing on his wife and kids!" shit ties back into people's lack of narrative literacy and, underlying it, their lack of theory of mind when it comes to these characters and of course all those nasty implicit biases. They think that what they care about most is necessarily what Rick cares about most.

There are people who refuse to understand or accept how important Michonne and Judith and RJ are to Rick. Of course he loves his extended found family. Of course he cares about his community. But people want to act like those relationships are somehow interchangeable with (or for a lot of these clowns MORE IMPORTANT THAN) those with his wife and children. That has never been the case! For the entirety of this goddamned show, it has never been the case! Andy has outright said it: this entire story, from the moment Rick wakes up in that hospital bed, has been about a man trying to find and protect his family. That is this insane feral motherfucker's central, defining character motivation! You would think if you claim to be a fan of this character and love him so much you would know that!

And it is wildly transparent that for many people they do know that but are pretending this is no longer the case now because they don't consider the family he has made to be legitimate.

They've been "predicting" (read: wishing for) Michonne's death since the day she and Rick got together and she was "ruined" for them because they could no longer mentally sideline her as a Strong Black Woman with no internal life or emotional, physical, or spiritual needs. And the only thing they hate more than Rick having a dark-skinned black woman as a soulmate is him having a black son. Hated it so much they had a whole ass documented conspiracy theory trying to will that baby out of existence. Judith gets a certain amount of grace from a lot of them purely from the virtue of being white, but they still constantly pull out the most vile anti-adoption bullshit about her not REALLY being Rick's (or Michonne's) child too.

So they sat there and watched a six-hour narrative! A lovingly constructed narrative one of the emotional cruxes of which is the fact that Rick was separated from his wife, love of his life, for eight years, missed most of his daughter's life up until now, missed all of his youngest son's life up until now, was made to forgot his eldest son's face, made to forget his wife's face, and this traumatized him so profoundly that he literally wanted to die! This traumatized him so profoundly that when he at last had the opportunity to go back he was paralyzed by fear to the extent that he wanted to continue living an empty ascetic unlife rather than have to face the emotional turmoil of the mere IDEA of losing them all again.

They saw that and went, "Well him getting to be back with them is unsatisfying because it should've ended with him leaving them to go looking for a grown ass man whose closest interpersonal relation already fucking went to find him!"

And not all of them are stupid. They fucking know that there is a difference between one's relationship with their sibling or close friend and their relationship with their spouse. There's a difference between one's relationship with their sibling or close friend and their relationship with their children. And it's not about quantifying the amount of love, it's about the self-evidently different emotional needs and dependencies that exist in these relationships!!

They know it! They just don't want any of that to apply to this spouse and these children and they're mad af that the show unequivocally said that it does.

And to that I say: lol suffer, bitch.

#talmbout #richonne #the ones who live #the ones who live spoilers #fandom nonsense

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hopelesslygaysstuff · 2 months

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The Art of Healing: Chapter 8

pairing: wanda maximoff x agatha harkness

summary: intense smut and job applications... Wanda discovers that she has to live a life of her own choosing.

content warnings: smut, cunnilingus, enchanted strap-on, deethroating said enchanted strap, overstimulation

word count: 3.8k+

Series Masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

The Start of New Beginnings

Scarlet wisps flowed smoothly around the room, Wanda’s fingers barely moving as she silently controlled her magic. Seated on the couch, she commanded her magic to paint the walls a dark red color, the order seeming almost thoughtless as her magic leaped at the instruction.

Smiling, Wanda let her features morph into a pleased expression, the ease of controlling her magic both exciting and calming her. She can hear Agatha padding around in her study upstairs, the footsteps slow and heavy. Tilting her head, Wanda reluctantly looks back at the laptop in front of her.

A clean logo sits innocently on the screen, the neutral colors unwavering even as Wanda’s concentration fails, scarlet wisps dissipating as she sighs.

Who knew that applying for a job would be so fucking difficult.

Honestly, Wanda hadn’t given much thought to her future. She’d fully expected to work for HYDRA with Peitro by her side until they were no longer of use. Besides, it’s hard to plan your future when you’ve been orphaned in the streets of an impoverished country.

Agatha was the one who introduced the idea of a job, blue eyes kind as she urged Wanda to think about her future. How to make a living, and be an actual citizen. Of course, Wanda had protested, pointing out that Agatha lived by herself in a remote cabin, but the brunette had just cackled and told her that she deserved it after hundreds of years of working her ass off.

Returning her attention to the screen in front of her, Wanda exports her resume after giving it one final cursory glance. It was good, really good. Agatha had helped her, making it look professional and subtly lying to make Wanda appear more experienced than she was.

‘Confidence is key, sweet cheeks,’ Was all she’d said, ignoring Wanda’s questions about how she’d somehow acquired all the forged skills written on the resume.

After a few more grueling minutes, Wanda has her cover letter and resume attached to an email, her cursor hovering over the send button. She hesitates, sitting back slightly as she stares at the screen.

Waves of self-doubt flood her, the company’s logo mocking her from the site she had pulled up. She felt inadequately prepared, having only attended one event at the company, Agatha’s smooth voice charming anyone within five feet of them. That’s how she’d met the current owner of the business, a formidable-looking woman whose sharp eyes had assessed her quickly.

The company was well known within the BDSM community, offering a multitude of classes and events for members of the exclusive kink community. Wanda had been impressed at the professionalism of the whole event and somehow had managed to not make a fool of herself in front of the CEO.

The rest of the night had seemed slightly absurd, time moving quickly as Agatha and she had been given a tour of the building. The woman, Elenor, had turned around abruptly at one point, gray eyes boring into Wanda’s, and uttering a single sentence before turning around and continuing the tour.

“I want to see your application for my position in my inbox before the end of the week.”

Agatha had thrown her an approving look, and Wanda had simply nodded once, a soft ‘Yes, ma’am,’ leaving her lips.

That had been two days ago, and now Wanda was stuck in a state of semi-panic and hopefulness as she stared blankly at the screen. Absent-mindedly realizing that Agatha’s pacing had stopped, Wanda blinked as she reached out with her magic.

The lavender-tinged magic she’d grown used to lingered near the kitchen, and Wanda smiled as she tried something new. Reaching out, she sent a single wisp towards Agatha, commanding her magic to curl around the woman’s wrist and gently lead her towards the couch.

“Ah, a new trick. Very clever, dear.” Agatha remarked, sipping on her water as she allowed herself to be led towards Wanda. Her blue eyes glanced towards the computer, taking in the unsent email before understanding dawned in them. She moved behind the couch, fingers grazing Wanda’s cheek briefly as she scanned the brief message.

Hovering over her shoulder, Agatha placed a single hand on Wanda’s sternum, her thumb resting lightly against her throat. Plump lips grazed her ear, Wanda’s breath hitching as Agatha murmured, “If you hit send, I’ll reward you.”

That was all the encouragement Wanda needed, her finger only shaking slightly before clicking the blue send button. She took a deep breath, feeling a wave of nervousness and… relief.

Chuckling slightly, Wanda marveled at how nervous she’d been. Really, it was a single email. One fucking email, and she’d stressed about it for two days.

“Good girl,” Agatha murmured, and Wanda felt her panties dampen, blood rushing to her cheeks. “Come with me.”

Wanda didn’t need any additional encouragement, her fingers closing the laptop and reaching for Agatha’s hand within seconds. Strong fingers tangled with her own, pulling her closer until her body hit Agatha’s with a soft thump, lips colliding desperately as Wanda let out a soft groan.

Making their way towards the bedroom, Señor Scratchy’s eyes following them from the kitchen, Wanda couldn’t help but grind against Agatha. She desperately needed friction, the arousal soaking her panties almost unbearable.

Then, she felt it. The bulge in Agatha’s slacks, a telltale sign that she was packing.

Pulling back briefly, Wanda let her hand wander down, fingers squeezing the strap through the silk fabric as Agatha groaned. Her eyes widened, shooting towards Agatha’s.

The woman’s blue eyes were dark, her pupils dilated as she pulled Wanda’s towards the bed with a sense of urgency. “Yes, I can feel it.” She muttered in between nips and kisses on Wanda’s smooth neck. “It’s a new enchantment I’m trying out.”

Wanda felt a wave of arousal shoot through her. Something about intelligence really got her going, and Agatha was constantly showing her new spells or rune combinations she’d created. Of course, most of their lessons ended with Wanda on her knees, not that she minded.

Strong hands grabbed the collar of her sweater, pushing backward until Wanda felt the back of her knees hit the mattress. An errant wave of Agatha’s hand slammed the door closed, the woman’s attention focused purely on the redhead seated before her.

Green eyes locked onto the slight tent in Agatha’s pants, a tongue peeking out and swiping lazily across Wanda’s lips as she felt her thoughts run wild. God, she wanted to pin Agatha down and take the strap so far down her throat. She wanted to hear the brunette moan unabashedly as Wanda forced orgasm after orgasm out of her until the last drops of pleasure were wrangled from her enchanted strap.

Then, she wanted to tear the toy off of those perfect hips, and absolutely devour the juices that would leak messily from Agatha’s needy pussy. She wanted to…

“Fuck.”

Agatha’s raspy voice tore Wanda from her thoughts. Looking up, she smiled slightly at the sight in front of her. Pupils dilated so severely that only a sliver of dark blue was left, sharp teeth biting desperately into a plump lip, strong thighs clenching together. She looked absolutely perfect.

“On the bed,” Wanda commanded, keeping her voice soft.

She’d learned that less is more when being dominant. Some people might like the yelling and sharp words and angry tone, but most submissives yearned for the quiet, strong dominance Wanda offered.

Almost robotically, Agatha obeyed. The slight tilt of Wanda’s head only encouraged her to move faster, and she discarded her sweater before sitting against the headrest.

“Did you wear this just for me?” Wanda asked, slowly pulling Agatha’s slacks off. She took the brunette’s slight head nod as an answer, humming briefly in response as her eyes locked on the dark purple strap.

Agatha wasn’t wearing a harness, but the toy was snug against her, and Wanda practically salivated at the thought of the other end that must’ve been buried inside the woman’s pussy. Her fingers reached out, one hand caressing and pinching Agatha’s nipples, which were rock hard through her bra. The other hand reached down, until Wanda’s fingers were in her underwear, collecting some of the juices that had escaped.

Blue eyes watched hungrily as Wanda pulled her fingers free, wet strands of arousal threatening to drip from them. They were glistening, and Agatha’s breath caught when that same hand wrapped loosely around the tip of her strap.

It took everything she had not to thrust her hips feebly into Wanda’s relaxed grip. The scent of Wanda’s juices made Agatha’s head swim, driving her mad. The frictionless movement of those long fingers against her strap, smearing Wanda’s arousal over the silicone made Agatha desperate for more.

Agatha never begged, but she was about two seconds away from whining. And she couldn’t lose her composure that soon.

“I want to use your throat until I cum, and then I want to keep fucking you until I’m satisfied,” Agatha practically growled, growing tired of Wanda’s teasing. She took one look at the slow smile spreading across the redhead’s lips before she moved.

Her hands were tangled with Wanda’s silky strands before she could even think, pulling the woman closer to her strap. Those sparkling green eyes locked with hers, and Agatha felt her arousal grow impossibly stronger. Then, those soft, perfect lips were wrapped around her and moving down and taking her deeper and…

A sultry moan erupted from Agatha, the satisfied sound encouraging Wanda to take her fully. With the strap nestled deep in her throat, Wanda held her head against the woman, breathing in her arousal, before coming up for air.

Moving her head down again, Wanda sucked the strap sloppily, her tongue wrapping around the tip and swirling teasingly before she bobbed her head down again. The weight of the strap against her tongue sent arousal coursing through her, jolts of electricity making their way straight to her clit with each small rut of Agatha’s hips and every little moan and gasp that escaped from her lips.

Breathing deeply, Wanda let herself enjoy the slight pain of Agatha’s hand gripping her hair. Every time she moved her head up, the woman would tighten her grip, not wanting to lose a single moment of pleasure. Taking a quick break, Wanda locked eyes with Agatha’s half-lidded ones, resting her chin on the woman’s hip and letting the strap slap lightly against her cheek.

Agatha let out a low groan at the sight. She was so horny she could barely even think. She needed stimulation, and she needed it now. She could feel her breaths coming out in short bursts, and briefly thought that she should care about how desperate she probably looked, but pushed it aside in favor of flipping Wanda onto her back.

Wide green eyes peered up at her, Wanda’s surprise at the change in position evident. Her hands wrapped around Agatha’s legs, her hands squeezing her ass as the woman rutted the tip of her strap against Wanda’s lips.

“Take it,” Agatha muttered, her hand pressing on the back of Wanda’s head as she eased the strap into the redhead’s mouth. “Take it all like a good little slut.”

Wanda moaned around the strap, enthusiastically bobbing her head as Agatha fucked her mouth. She felt her own arousal increasing as the strap moved between her lips quickly. She didn’t care about the spit dripping down her chin and smearing over the strap, all she wanted was to make Agatha cum.

Fuck, she wanted to be used for Agatha’s pleasure.

As soon as the thought passed through Wanda’s mind, Agatha felt her orgasm overtake her quickly. She came with practically no warning, the only indicator of her orgasm was the painful tightening of her hand in Wanda’s hair.

Agatha continued to fuck Wanda’s throat, giving the woman no reprieve as she prolonged the pleasure. She felt another orgasm building, increasing exponentially when she looked down and saw Wanda’s hungry eyes roaming her form.

The hands on Agatha’s ass squeezed again before a resounding slap sounded throughout the room. Wanda internally smirked at the gasp Agatha let out, moaning when the woman retaliated by shoving the strap as far down her throat as she could manage, holding her there for a few seconds.

“Don’t be a fucking brat,” Agatha hissed, eyes boring into Wanda’s as her orgasm crept up. She dragged the strap almost fully from the woman’s mouth, allowing her a few seconds to breathe before she slammed it to the back of her throat with no mercy.

Fucking Wanda’s mouth like it was the last thing she’d ever do, Agatha arched her back, eyes raising to the ceiling. The sound of her strap as Wanda’s tongue slurped around it sent her over the edge once more, her thighs trembling as she rode out her orgasm.

Reaching out her other hand, Agatha felt her strap pulsate as it was buried in Wanda’s mouth, her breath ragged and muscles seizing. She gripped the headboard, knuckles whitening as she slowly fucked in and out of the wet heat wrapped around her strap.

Nails dug into Agatha’s ass, and she groaned as the pain caused her arousal to feebly jump. She pushed it down, nerves overstimulated as she moved to pull her strap from Wanda’s mouth.

Wanda’s eyes flashed scarlet, and before Agatha could properly think, she was flipped over and pushed flush against the mattress. Scarlet wisps held her wrists tightly above her head, another thick tendril of magic pinning her hips down as Wanda eagerly took her whole length in her mouth.

There was something intoxicating about the way Agatha moaned, the sound high-pitched and bordering on a whimper. Wanda let her hands rest on the woman’s thighs, fingers curling tightly as her short nails dug into the soft skin.

Taking a moment to breathe, Wanda swirled her tongue around the tip of the strap before dragging her tongue down the length of it, enjoying the raspy groans erupting from those pretty lips.

Agatha’s hips jolted violently, causing Wanda to choke slightly as she wrapped her lips around the strap. With a firm glance, she commanded Agatha to remain still, before using both her hand and mouth to bring the women to yet another orgasm.

“Oh… fuck. Wanda stop, I can’t… it’s too much. Wait. Please, I’m gonna, fuck, please. I’m coming… I’m fucking coming. Don’t you dare stop. Don’t fucking stop.”

Endless words streamed from Agatha’s lips, her brain having finally dipped into a comfortable vanilla haze. She knew that Wanda held more magical power than she did, and even the hundreds of years of experience she held had nothing over the raw power the redhead controlled. Given this fact, she knew escape was fruitless.

All she could do was lay there and take it.

“That’s right. I’m glad you finally understand your place,” Wanda practically purred, and Agatha was too overstimulated to berate her for reading her mind. She felt her muscles twitch, her pussy leaking around the strap, threatening to let the toy slip out from inside her.

“Ah ah,” Wanda’s voice was low, her hand firm on the base of the toy, holding it steady. “None of that now. You’re going to take everything I give you, understand?”

“I-,” Agatha couldn’t do much else but nod, green eyes watching her as she felt her cheeks flush. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Agatha drew a shaky breath, Wanda’s hand slowly pumping up and down her strap. It was sending her into a delirious haze of pleasure, and she just barely managed to squeak out a ‘Yes, ma’am,’ before Wanda was moving.

With a flick of her fingers, Wanda’s scarlet magic whisked away their clothes, leaving Agatha’s chest exposed to her nimble fingers. The dripping heat of Wanda’s pussy hovered over her strap, anticipation and want filling Agatha as she watched the redhead straddle her hips.

“Beg.”

It wasn’t a question. Wanda’s eyebrow rose expectantly, her head tilting slightly as her fingers roughly pinched Agatha’s nipples.

“Fuck, please.”

“Please, what? Be more specific, dear.”

Groaning, Agatha threw her head back against the pillows. She sucked in a few deep breaths as Wanda’s fingers pulled and twisted her sensitive nipples before she let her remaining dignity go.

“I need to feel your pussy around my strap, please. You can use me however you want, make yourself cum all over my cock. Please, Wanda. Just fuck me.”

The words had barely left Agatha’s lips before Wanda was sinking fully down on her strap, their moans sounding out at the same time. The fingers abusing her nipples briefly stopped, Wanda grabbing her breasts and squeezing as she steadied herself.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” Wanda’s words were slightly breathless, her eyes shining as she began to fuck herself on Agatha’s strap.

Grinding down, Wanda felt her own orgasm slowly building. The strap slid easily in and out of her pussy, her juices leaking down around the toy and smearing on her inner thighs as she worked herself up.

Agatha had begun to let out a series of moans, the sounds reverberating around the room and sounding suspiciously like whimpers. Her fingers wrapped around the scarlet tendril restraining her wrists, the power from it sending her head reeling.

Wanda continued speaking, her accent wrapping around each syllable and pushing Agatha’s orgasm closer to the surface.

“You’re going to make me cum, fuck. You look so good, all tied up beneath me. God, I could do whatever I wanted right now, and you’d just have to lay there and fucking take it.”

With a sudden thrust of her hips, Agatha threw Wanda off balance, the redhead’s upper body colliding on top of hers with a soft thump. The sensation of her breasts against her own sent firefly bolts shooting through her, and Agatha valiantly fought her impending orgasm.

“Go on,” Wanda challenged, “Get me off like the good little whore you are.”

With a guttural moan, Agatha canted her hips up roughly, Wanda’s soft moans against her ear sending her over the edge. She felt the redhead’s pussy walls clamping down on her strap as they orgasmed together. The sensation of Wanda squeezing around her sent her headfirst into another, smaller orgasm.

Eventually, Wanda slowed down, lazily grinding against the strap still buried deep inside her. She milked the last remnants of her orgasm, feeling Agatha’s chest heaving against her own. Her fingers slowly massaged the brunette’s chest, nipple taut and hard under her ministrations.

Agatha whimpered, a whispered ‘yellow’ falling from her lips.

Pulling back, Wanda moved her hands up to cradle the woman’s face, thumbs gently stroking over her flushed cheeks.

“Too much?” She asked, and hummed softly at Agatha’s weak nod in response.

“Alright,” Wanda’s voice had a note of finality in it. “I’m going to ride your face then, you still owe me another orgasm.”

Well, Agatha certainly wasn’t going to complain about that.

—

Both Agatha and Wanda were slightly slumped over their morning coffee, exhausted. Wanda was slowly eating a piece of avocado toast, her eyes half closed as Agatha fed Señor Scratchy bits of carrots and cucumbers.

Wanda’s open laptop sat near them, the screen shining innocently as Agatha pulled her rune book closer to her. She’d instructed Wanda to research a few sites, but judging from the sluggish movements of the redhead across from her, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

Besides, Wanda was far too anxious about the job she’d applied for the day before to get any real work done.

An email pinged through, and Wanda’s green eyes eagerly scanned it, her form no longer bent over the table sleepily.

There! An interview time and location, the words swimming before her eyes before Agatha’s touch grounded her.

“Good job, hon.” Agatha’s voice was proud, her blue eyes warm. Wanda practically beamed at her, jumping up from her seat and rounding the table before wrapping her arms around the woman’s waist. She could hardly believe it, and her chest twisted as she thought about starting a new chapter in her life.

Wanda didn’t really want to leave Agatha but knew that she had to get back into the world. Training had been a nice break, and so had learning to trust her dominant slash mentor slash… friend?

Almost as if reading Wanda’s mind (oh, wait), Agatha chuckled, turning her around to face the mirror. She played with Wanda’s red strands briefly, before sizing her up and murmuring in her ear, words dripping like honey as blue eyes blazed warmly.

“Time to go shopping for a professional outfit, and maybe a whole new wardrobe.”

—

Wanda walked through a set of glass doors, trying not to stare too hard at her surroundings. She resisted the urge to tug on her new blazer, the beginnings of her new wardrobe still feeling slightly foreign to her. Luckily, Agatha had good taste.

Her new apartment was a mess, her limited bags strewn all over the place. Even with all the chaos surrounding the rounds of interviews she’d gone through, before finally getting the position under the CEO, Wanda only felt a vague sense of pride.

Her anxieties had faded the second she’d received the phone call confirming her new position from Elenor herself, lessening even further at the amount of money she’d receive while training to take over the company. Agatha had been proud, a smug smirk on her face as she’d helped Wanda move in, purple and scarlet wisps dancing around each other to efficiently unpack.

And now here she was, her first day.

Wanda resisted the urge to smile, instead nodding once at the receptionist before smoothly brushing past her toward the elevator.

Upon reaching the top floor, Wanda felt a thrill go up her spine at the sound of her heels clacking slightly on the floor. Who knew such a simple sound could instill great levels of confidence?

The morning was long, information being thrown at her by her new boss. Luckily, Agatha had taught her how to take effective notes, and CEO training had nothing on experimental rune combinations.

The afternoon stretched on, filled with meetings and countless handshakes, and Wanda remained steadfast through it all. She was relieved when they finally returned to the top floor, settling gratefully into a chair as her new boss started talking, pulling something up on her computer.

“Of course, you'll have to choose a stage name of sorts. It sells the mysterious illusion that surrounds your position.” The woman said, brown eyes peering at Wanda over the top of her computer.

A small smirk formed on Wanda’s lips, her mind thrown back to the small cabin in the woods. Visions of purple wisps, lavender perfume, and bright eyes danced through her thoughts, a name popping into her head almost immediately. Blinking away the memory of strong arms wrapped around her waist as a white rabbit watched from the countertop, Wanda looked up, eyes sparkling.

“The Scarlet Witch.”

Next Chapter

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