#and i got the heel hook so that's what counts

[piedoesnotequalpi]

Got a picture from graduation that I think is very funny and also doesn't show my face, so here it is! I finished my degree in December but graduation was this weekend

[pathologicalreid]

don't say nothing | S.R.

gemini part two

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: softdom!spencer, "good girl" (you can tear it out of my cold dead hands), alcohol, fwb, oral fixation, consent, idiots in love, praise kink, gun violence, jealous spencer? unprotected pinv sex, word count: 3.73k a/n: posting smut twice in a row who the fuck am i?? anyways, everyone's favorite idiots in love are back. i used the song don't say nothing by del water gap to provide me with inspiration.

part one

please say something, cause I've been growing lonesomer each day

Penelope threw her arms up in frustration as you walked through the front door of O’Keefe’s, “I was beginning to think you were ditching us.” She got up from the booth, letting you slide in so that you were next to the wall – across the table from Spencer.

Things with him were as awkward as ever. The two of you were like a rubber band getting stretched, every time the tension became too much, you snapped and ended up in bed together - or in the academy showers, but that was just the one time. Looking at him now, the rubber band felt taut.

“I took the liberty of getting you this,” Garcia announced, a broad smile on her face as she pushed the glass toward you.

Raising your eyebrows, you eyed the beverage suspiciously before taking a tentative sip. An undetermined liquor slid down your throat as you tried to hide the distaste from your expression. Penelope had a taste for sweet, sugary drinks, it was the main reason she usually ended up puking first at girls’ night.

Spencer noted the look on your face, discreetly sliding his glass of water toward you. Thank you, you mouthed to him, earning a slight smile in return. “So, where’s this friend of a friend that you’re trying to set Y/N up with?” Luke asked, standing at the open end of the table.

In your periphery, you saw the smile immediately drop off Spencer’s face. Feeling his eyes on you, you shifted on the supple leather of the booth and looked over at Penelope.

“He said he’d show up later,” she said, lifting her own glass to her lips and sipping out of the straw.

That was enough for you to know that it would never work between the two of you. You needed someone who was punctual. Someone who wouldn’t ghost you at the last moment. Huffing, you sat back in the seat, wondering how long you’d have to stay out before it was socially acceptable to go home.

You took about thirty minutes before asking your teammates to let you out of the booth under the guise of needing fresh air. Luke asked if you wanted to move out to the patio, but you waved him off before walking out the front door.

The spring air kissed your skin as you avoided pedestrians until you made it to the outer wall of the bar, leaning against the cool bricks and sighing.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, walking out of the bar, and approaching you.

Avoiding eye contact, you watched people’s shoes as they walked by – heels, sneakers, sandals. “I’m fine, Spence,” you answered simply as your heart begged you to meet his hazel eyes.

You closed your eyes as he reached out, gingerly placing his hand flat on your ribcage. “You had a close call last week,” he said matter-of-factly, referring to a shot you had taken to the chest while on a case last week.

Shrugging, you opened your eyes again, “I was wearing my vest, barely even hurts anymore.” Spencer had been on sabbatical at the time, but he still came to visit you during your overnight stay in the hospital. You were left with a gnarly bruise to the ribs, and Emily had benched you for two weeks.

Tired of your refusal to meet his eyes, Spencer hooked a finger beneath your chin, lifting it until you could make out the gold of his eyes. He looked through the window of the bar, checking for something before he tugged you further from the glass. You didn’t have the time to ask him what he was looking for before his lips were on yours in the alleyway.

Spencer Reid had a habit of kissing you like you were a last meal, with open, messy kisses that made your lovelorn chest ache.

“Garcia’s friend didn’t show up?” He asked, pulling away from you just enough to get the words out.

Shaking your head, you reached up a hand and threaded your fingers through his hair, “Nope.” You cocked your head to the side as the two of you fell into your familiar pattern, “I’m glad I didn’t agree to the date. Could’ve been a fatal blow to my self-esteem,” you told him while thinking of a good way to navigate your current situation.

He also had a habit of making your mind go blank when his lips were on you, and you almost lost it when he groaned against your mouth, “His loss.”

Your breath hitched when he used his knee to part your legs, placing an agonizing pressure on your sex as you resisted the urge to grind on his thigh.

“Hey, Y/N?” He murmured in your ear before pressing gentle kisses on the side of your throat.

Humming, you bit your lip, “Yeah?”

Detaching his lips from the soft skin of your neck, Spencer pulled away to look at you, “Thank you for not agreeing to the date.”

Your body slouched against the wall, “I can’t do this again,” you confessed. The words slipped out of your mouth too easily for it to be a lie, even if you never meant for them to come out.

Spencer took a step back, removing himself from you entirely, “What do you mean?” He asked, watching as you frantically smoothed down the front of your dress and caught your breath.

“Why do I keep doing this to myself?” You muttered helplessly, once again averting your eyes from the man standing in front of you. Taking a shaky breath, your heart pounded so violently in your chest that you thought it might burst.

Catching out at you, he firmly placed his hands on either side of your waist before you could walk away from him. “Baby, what are you talking about?” He asked you urgently.

There it was again, baby. It was like a key in a lock, causing everything to pour out of you. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Isn’t that funny? You’re there, haunting my every move, and none of me occupies even a fragment of your mind.”

Recognition flashed in his eyes as he processed what you were saying to him, “It’s me?” He said, hazel eyes flickering over your face.

“Of course, it’s you, Spencer,” you said exasperatedly, afraid of years of longing coming out in a random alleyway in the district. Tears pricked at your eyes as you silently pleaded for him to say something.

Bewilderment was pasted on his face as he opened his mouth to speak, shut it, and then opened it again. “The person. Your one person that you’d say yes to. I’m your one.” He clarified, trying to get a hold on the situation.

Nodding miserably, you reached up and placed your hand over your heart as if you could staunch your bleeding heart, “You’re my one, and every time we’re together, you’re thinking about someone else.” It wasn’t an accusation; you knew he had feelings for someone else. He had told you just as much at Dave and Krystall’s wedding. Two months ago. Wiping underneath your eyes, you gathered whatever was left of your dignity and walked away from the situation.

As you walked back to your car, you were vaguely aware of people staring at you. You knew that you had played just as big of a role in your own destruction as Spencer had, maybe even more. You never should’ve had sex at the wedding, but you had sought comfort in one another.

Fishing around in your purse, you pulled your keys out, only for them to be scooped from your hands. “Hey!” You shouted in frustration, gaining the attention of passersby as they wondered whether or not they needed to call 911 or stay out of a lover’s quarrel. Shooting daggers at Spencer, you refrained from stomping your foot in frustration lest you look like a petulant child. “Give me my keys, Spencer,” you insisted, holding your hand out impatiently.

“Not until you talk to me,” he responded. He was out of breath, meaning he had run to catch up with you – a feat in and of itself.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, “There’s nothing left to talk about, Spencer.”

He took a moment to catch his breath before looking around, “There is everything to talk about. I have to talk to you.”

Weighing your options, you reached out for your car keys, which he let you take, and unlocked the car. “Get in,” you offered halfheartedly, wiping your cheeks before getting into the driver’s seat.

Silently, you started the drive, taking a right onto the next street. “This isn’t the way to your apartment,” Spencer observed anxiously.

You shook your head as you turned on your turn signal to merge onto the highway, “No, it’s the way to yours.”

Residences had been off-limits during your illicit affair, but each member of the BAU had the ability to get to each other’s homes. It was more of a safety concern than anything else. Since you’d never been to Spencer’s apartment before, you needed him to guide you through the lobby and up the stairs. To your chagrin, he did that by taking your hand in his and having you follow him.

Looking around once he unlocked the door, the first thing you noticed was that the space was so… Spencer. From the green walls to the stained-glass window to the piles of books, it all just seemed so fitting for him. “Sit,” he said with an authoritative tone as he made his way back to the kitchen, returning with two glasses of water.

“What do you want to say, Reid?” You said, leaning back in an armchair as you looked over at him, taking calculated breaths.

Disappointment filled his eyes, “Don’t call me that.” There was something in his eyes that resembled fear, but you couldn’t quite place the reason.

Narrowing your gaze, you tilted your head to the side and feigned ignorance, “Everyone calls you that.” You challenged, even though you supposed it wasn’t true.

“You don’t,” he responded simply. It was true, over the years you had never called him Reid. Dr. Reid and Spencer Reid, yes, but never just Reid. To you, he had always been Spencer or Spence. “When you do it, it feels so… impersonal. Detached.”

You blinked, not expecting him to have said that. Your relationship with Reid had always been personal. From back when you were just friends to whatever miscellany of emotions you had now. “I didn’t mean for it to be,” you admitted defeatedly, fiddling with the buttons on your cardigan. Although maybe you had intended to detach yourself from the situation by referring to him with a name that felt less personal.

In your periphery, you saw him looking dejectedly at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Will you please look at me?”

Swallowing thickly, you closed your eyes, “I can’t.” Your voice was no more than a whisper as you admitted the truth, one look in his eyes, and you’d break your heart even worse.

“At first, I thought it was easier for me to just say I was interested in someone else because I was under the impression that you were interested in another man,” Spencer told you candidly. “My idea was that I could keep you close to me until you felt ready to move on, and that would just have to be enough.”

Staring blankly ahead of you, you reached out to grab your water from the coffee table, taking small sips as you struggled to digest what he was saying to you.

You shut your eyes tightly at the vulnerability in the room, opening them to find Spencer knelt in front of you. “What I didn’t realize was that a fraction of you would never be enough, not for me.”

Burying your face in your hands, you avoided his eyes as the gravity of his admission weighed down your shoulders. “Spence,” you begged. He needed to stop. He was toeing the point of no return.

“I am so devastatingly in love with you,” he admitted. “I didn’t know how deeply it ran until the wedding, but I just couldn’t get myself to let you go.”

Spencer pried your hands off of your face, revealing teary eyes. You let your body slide off the chair until you knelt in front of him, knee to knee. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his.

Quickly, he wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling your body flush against his, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you answered, surprised at how easily the words rolled off of your tongue. Taking your time, you slung one arm over his shoulder, reaching the other up so you could put your hand in his hair. You relished in his groan as you tugged lightly at the strands.

You couldn’t help the whine that passed through your lips as he pulled away from you. He got to his feet before helping you up, and once you were standing, his lips were back on yours.

Leading you to what you assumed was his bedroom, you felt your blood heat up as he pushed your cardigan off of your shoulders. As you reached up to undo the buttons on his shirt, you grinned against his lips.

Sat on the edge of his bed, you parted your knees and pulled his shirt from where it was tucked into his pants before fumbling with his belt buckle. Disconnecting your lips so that you could look at what you were doing, he took the opportunity to duck his head and take your earlobe between his teeth. As he nipped at the soft skin, goosebumps spread where you were bare, leaving you in need of more. More of him.

Once you got his belt undone, you made quick work of the button and zipper on his slacks, sliding them down over his hips and ass while his hands made their way up your dress. “Spence,” you said breathlessly, trying to push his pants further down. Understanding your plea, he stepped out of them entirely, kicking them to the side.

Spencer drew away from you just enough to tug your dress off of your body, tossing it off to the side and gently guiding you so that your back was flat against the mattress. You watched in anticipation as he pulled his t-shirt off, the movement allowing for the tip of his cock to peek over the elastic of his boxers. “You’re so pretty,” he muttered, the softness of the words taking you by surprise, “Always so pretty for me, baby.” He gently traced his finger over your bruise as a shadow of worry crossed his features, but it was gone as quickly as it showed up.

His words spurred you on to pull at his underwear, trying to take them off, but you simply didn’t have the arm span to do it on your own. “I wanna touch you,” you confessed, “Can I touch you?”

“I need to be in you,” Spencer answered, pulling his boxers off before kneeling in front of you, eyes widening when your legs fell open. Expertly, he hooked his fingers in the sides of your underwear, dragging them off in one swift motion and leaving the both of you completely bare.

Your mouth parted when his hand reached your wet heat and two fingers entered you tantalizingly slowly. “I thought- ah- no touching,” you complained. It was a halfhearted complaint because really, there was nothing to be bothered by.  

Reaching down, your hand grabbed his wrist, trying to slow his ministrations. “You’re so responsive for me,” he murmured, continuing to move his fingers in and out of you and watching in fascination as your hips bucked off of the mattress involuntarily.

“Fuck,” You said, screwing your eyes shut as that all too familiar knot started to form in your lower belly. “Spence, baby- I’ll…” A low whine escaped your throat as he withdrew his fingers from your core. “Spencer,” you said in frustration, opening your eyes to see him inspecting your slick that had been left on his fingers.

Like a rehearsed routine, he placed his hand in front of your face, prompting you to incline your head forward and wrap your lips around his index and middle finger. As you swirled your tongue around his fingers, he watched you with an undying interest. “Good girl,” he muttered, the praise causing your sensitive cunt to clench around nothing.

Taking his hand back, you looked down as he used his now free hand to line his cock up with your entrance. Laying one of your hands at the side of your head, he used his other hand to intertwine your fingers before he pushed into you. Instead of tossing your head back like you normally would, you looked up at him, watching as he hilted himself in you. “Spencer,” you whispered.

“Are you alright?” He asked, checking in with you as he placed his free hand on the other side of your head.

You nodded quickly, “It just feels different this time.” Your heart clenched at your own admission. You weren’t using each other as an escape anymore.

Spencer hummed in understanding, leaning down and pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “I love you,” he whispered, “I love you so much.”

Your breath hitched as he tentatively thrust in you like he was testing the waters. “I love you,” you responded in kind, your voice higher than usual.

The response was enough encouragement for Spencer to keep going, he tucked his face in the crook of your neck, gently biting the skin as he set the pace. Small gasps escaped your throat every time his hips met yours.

As usual, your sounds spurred him on, seemingly trying to make you as vocal as possible, he used one hand to reach up and grope your breast. While his fingers pinched at your nipple, you wrapped your legs around his torso, locking your ankles together behind him. He lifted his head, moving his lips against yours in hurried, messy kisses that only aided the knot building in your stomach.

You didn’t have the capacity to warn him before you came undone beneath him, your orgasm coming over you as you whined into his mouth. Your walls clenched around him so tightly that Spencer had a hard time keeping his pace before it became too much.

Sighing contentedly as he filled you, you ran your hands down his back as he continued working through both of your orgasms. You whimpered as he continued fucking his cum into your oversensitive hole until your head went fuzzy, “Spence.”

He stuttered to a stop, staying inside of you for just a beat under he pulled out, causing you to flinch as you were left empty. “Are you alright?” He asked, still breathing heavily – not that you were faring much better.

Nodding, you blinked rapidly as your lungs tried to catch up with the rest of you, “I’m perfect,” you answered dazedly.

Spencer smiled at you, “You are. Perfect, that is.” He sat next to you on the bed, placing a hand on your bare hip, affectionately dragging his fingers over the skin. “You need to go pee,” he said suddenly, furrowing his brows at you.

You couldn’t help it as you erupted in a fit of giggles, resulting in an adorably confused look from Spencer. “Sorry, it’s just you telling me that I need to go pee – it’s funny,” you told him, biting your lip to muffle your laugh.

“Have you not been peeing after sex?” He was clearly appalled as if the idea of you not peeing after sex was abhorrent to him.

Rolling your eyes, you propped yourself up on your elbows, “Of course, I pee after sex, Dr. Reid,” you put extra emphasis on his honorific. “And I will pee just as soon as I’m sure my legs aren’t going to give out of me when I stand up,” you explained to him, reaching out and placing a hand on his knee.

He looked at you seriously, “You know, there are some studies that say the sooner after sex you urinate the less likely you are to contract a UTI.”

“Oh my god,” you said, “Don’t say the word urinate at me while I’m naked in your bed.” You complained, clambering up and making sure you were steady before you walked to the ensuite.

Later on, you were laying in bed next to Spencer, your head was resting on his chest while he kept you tucked into his side. You flinched as a phone started ringing, you sat up and looked around for your phone. Please don’t be a case, you silently hoped as you searched the sheets for your phone.

Once you finally grabbed it, you saw Penelope’s contact flashing across the screen. Swiping the screen, you put the phone up to your ear, hearing loud music on the other end of the call. “Hey, Penny,” you said, smiling as Spencer reached out and pulled you back into him.

You adjusted your t-shirt over your skin, having made Spencer go out to your car for your go-bag so that you could have clean clothes to sleep in. He slipped his hand under the cotton of your shirt, placing his hand flat on your bare skin. You tried to greet Penelope again when she doesn’t respond.

“Hey!” Her voice chimed in through the speaker, “Where’d you go? Jason just got here!”

Frowning, you pulled your phone away and looked at the time – just past eleven o’clock. You sighed, letting your body meld into Spencer’s, “Tell him that someday he’ll find a girl with equally as atrocious time management skills as him.”

You heard some rambling on the other side of the call, and wondered how many members of the BAU made it out this late. “Okay, but where are you?”

Humming, you peered up at Spencer who had, unsurprisingly, pulled out a book to read before bed. “I’m right where I need to be,” you told her earnestly, wondering if she could hear your voice's smile as Spencer kissed your forehead softly.

tagged, if you asked for a part two: @donttrustlove @jumpingjackalope @bippityboppityboob1tch @makingbloodbaths1 @sammyreidslut

@evvy96 @mus3y @nnab @basicallynotbreathing @hell0kitty11

@tatilolz @radioactiveinvisible @lamentis-10 @k-corbett @discotitsposts

[springseasonie]

I'm a Mouse, Duh! | LJN + NJM (M)

Roommate Jeno x fem reader x roommate Jaemin, Halloween party trope, pure filth

Summary: Nomin in police costumes and Y/N in a "mouse" costume (it's literally just lingerie). Will they fuck? Keep reading to find out! (the answer is yes) (the title is a mean girls reference if you didn't notice btw)

Warnings: sexual content, dom Jeno, dom Jaemin, oral (fem and male receiving), Eifel tower 😖, spiting, cum eating, ass eating, butt stuff (it's my first time writing this don't judge too hard), double penetration, slight crying kink

Word count: 8,3k

Song recs: needs by tinashe

A/N: the drought is over!!! I have posted. This is my kinktober thing bcs I've been too busy with life so I hope y'all like this even though it's a bit rushed. This can kinda be like a "the walls are thin" special episode if you will. Also tysm for 800 followers (even though I'm barely posting). Feedback is loved and appreciated 🤍🤍

"Can you please hurry up? The party started an hour ago," Jaemin yelled from the living room.

"Don't rush me. You want me to look nice right? Be patient," you yelled back, applying the red lipstick carefully. You checked your hair in the mirror one last time, fixing your lashes as you leaned into your vanity.

"I'm sure you look fine. Hurry, I want to get there before they run out of beer," Jeno yelled.

"Gosh, I'm coming," you said, grabbing your bag. You opened your room door, heels clicking as you walked out the both of them sitting on the couch. You stared at them, face contorting in confusion. "Cops? Really?"

They turned to you, staring at you for a little longer than they should've. Your outfit was definitely something beyond scandalous. Lace lingerie, fishnets, heels, and a headband. Jaemin swallowed hard, eyes scraping every inch of your body. The obscene 'costume' hugged your body like it was made for you. And your lips looked great in red. He always loved the color on you. Jeno didn't hide his emotions like Jaemin did though. He was always shameless. Letting you know how good you look even on days where you weren't very dressed up. Jeno had always been attracted to you. Both of them were, making being roommates with them very hard at times.

"That's your costume," Jaemin questioned, eyes scanning you once again stopping at your cleavage.

"Yes it is."

"And what are you supposed to be," Jeno continued.

"I'm a mouse," you said, pouting at the headband. "Duh."

Jeno chuckled at your answer, raking his hands through his hair as he stared at you. "If I were to guess, I'd probably say playboy model."

"Ha ha very funny," you mumbled. "Anyway, I'm ready. Are you both going to keep sitting there staring or do you wanna go?"

"Yeah, the party, right." Jaemin pulled out his phone, ordering Uber for the three of you. You all walk outside, standing in front of your apartment. Tonight, the biggest frat of your university was going to throw a Halloween party. They're known for having the best parties, so this one shouldn't be short of excitement. You were hoping and praying to get laid tonight after a 4 month dry spell. You needed action, no matter where you got it from.

Hopefully, your dream could come true. It shouldn't be that hard right? After all, it was Halloween.

-

You definitely were not gonna get laid tonight. Half of the frat is already piss drunk, the sports bros are hooking up or going home early, all the hot guys are with their girlfriends. It looked like luck was in fact not on your side. In moments like these you would nuzzle into one of your friends arms and complain but they were all off doing whatever for the night. Now it was just you and the red solo cup full of various alcoholic beverages mixed together. The drink was rancid, but it would have you loose in no time to help you get comfortable.

Funny thing about it was you'd probably never be comfortable. You definitely did not have the most outrageous outfit in the house, but the eyes that lingered on you made you feel like you did. This costume was completely out of your norm. Every other Halloween, Jeno and Jaemin would dress up as something funny, but this time you wanted to take a bit of a break. Now that break is costing you foot pain, forcing you to stand in the corner in 5 inch heels for an hour and a half.

You stopped your drink, trying your best to avoid the gaze of the men who migrated around the house. But there was one gaze you couldn't shake no matter how much you tried. Jaemin watched you from the other side, eyes scanning your body like they did hours prior. He was so attracted to you it made him crazy. This was probably the first time he felt like he needed you. There were times where he walked in on you accidentally, saw you in underwear, but nothing could compare to this.

You stood there, gorgeous as ever, in the sexiest clothes ever, tiny bits of skin peeking through the lace making his mind wild. And now that he had just the right amount of alcohol in his system, he could finally do something about it.

You didn't notice Jaemin walking towards you, so when you heard him speak, you jumped a bit.

"Y/N," he said, making you turn around.

"God, you scared me," you laughed. You watched him lean on the wall, one hand on his cup and the other in his pocket. His eyes hung low, lips curved into a smile as he stared at you.

"Ah, sorry. Didn't mean to." Jaemin sipped his drink, licking his lips as he continued to look at your cleavage. "I didn't tell you earlier but… you look great tonight."

The way his eyes went from your lips to your chest didn't go unnoticed. "You didn't have to tell me, you've been staring since we got here," you say. You thought that would probably throw him off his game but to your surprise, all he did was grin and laugh.

"So you noticed?"

"Of course I noticed. Everyone's been staring at me. Am I that naked," you question.

"Do you feel naked?"

"I do when you look at me like that," you laugh. Jaemin's eyes were always the thing that told you the most. He could've lied and said you look ridiculous but his expressions never lie. He didn't know, but you always felt vulnerable under his stare. Like he could do anything and everything. And you would definitely let him.

"If you wanna fuck me, just say so," you joke. You brought the cup to your lips, drinking the party battery acid. Your eyes were locked on his, the tension between you both becoming thicker and thicker by the second. For a minute, you forgot that you were in a room full of people because all you wanted to do was rip that costume off him and give him what he was begging for.

Jaemin watched you as you pulled the cup away from your lips, lipstick staining the plastic. A drop of the liquid remained on your lip, the sight making Jaemin swallow hard. All he could think about was that pretty lipstick being in places it shouldn't be. Jaemin reached up, tilting your chin to him softly as he took his thumb and wiped the drop.

Your stomach erupted in butterflies, heat spreading between your legs when he maintained eye contact. You didn't mean to, but you leaned into his touch, slightly gasping when he continued staring at you.

"Should I fuck you," he said out right.

Your heart beat sped up immediately, this sudden surge of confidence in him making you go crazy. That's when you noticed how close you both were. Jaemin's face was hovering right above yours, one more step and he would be kissing you. His lips looked so soft and inviting, so why not make it happen. You glanced at his lips then looked back at his eyes slowly getting sucked into his little game.

"Is this part of your whole police bit? Interrogating me like this,' you joke, trying to take some edge off the moment. "Are you going to arrest me if I don't answer?"

Jaemin didn't answer, just grinned. You always had a way of getting out of something and that something just so happened to be the sexual tension that's been brewing between the both of you for the longest. You couldn't deny that he looked good in the costume. And you always had a thing for men in uniform.

But instead of making a move, Jaemin simply backed away from you, eyeing you up and down. "I'm not doing this here," he mumbled, licking his lips.

"Do it," you said. "Do whatever you want." You swallowed hard, watching Jaemin watch you. You wanted him to just grab you and take you right here in the corner of the room. No one would notice anyway. Everyone was either high, drunk or in their own world.

Jaemin chuckled, licking his lips. "I'll see you later okay. Don't get too drunk." And with that he walked away, leaving you hot and needy.

-

Your body moved to the music, surrounded on all sides by people who also danced, talked and laughed. So far it's been a blast. Nothing crazy has happened except for some guy fighting another guy for scaring him too badly, two freshmans getting caught in a bedroom together, a girl projectile vomiting all over the living room. But other than that, it's been a smooth night.

You keep thinking about how you talked earlier with Jaemin. His sly look, the confidence in his eyes, the way he towered over you. God, he was so enticing.

You kept sipping your drink, the liquid falling into your stomach and heating your body at the same time when you felt someone come up behind you. They held your hips, body swaying with yours. "I thought you would never come back," you said, leaning into their body.

"I haven't seen you all night."

You looked behind you, only to see Jeno staring at you with his signature smile. "I thought you were Jaem," you said, turning around fully. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he continued to hold your waist, body dancing with yours to the music.

"Why are you always looking for him and not me," he whined playfully.

You laughed, fingers playing in his hair. You felt his hands tense and tighten on your hips, fingers slightly pressing into your sides. This is the closest you've probably ever been to him. Due to the nature of your outfit, it felt like his hands were on your skin, making your body heat up a little too fast. You tried to push the thoughts of his hands ripping off the outfit, forcing you down to your knees, swirling your cup of liquid behind his head. You took your arm from behind him, sipping it slowly.

"Gosh what made you think this costume was a good idea," he groaned, his cute grin making you giggle.

"Why didn't you and Jaem tell me you guys were gonna be cops? I could've been a cop too," you laugh.

"No one likes female cops."

"Not true. You haven't seen me as a female cop yet." The funny thing is that he did it last year. Except you bought a proper cop costume instead of a 'sexy' one. "Besides, I like this one. It was cheap."

"Clearly," he chuckled. His laugh was deep, radiating through your entire chest. That's when you noticed he wasn't even looking in your direction. Jeno was looking directly at your cleavage as your chest was pressed right against his. He slid his hands down your hips and behind, palms loosely cupping your ass. "What were you looking to achieve wearing this Y/N? Because whatever it was, it might be working."

You reached back, moving his hands back to your hips. "I'm trying to get laid, and I'm trying to do it with anyone that's not you."

Jeno raised a brow, giving you a dry laugh. "You're the only woman I know who wouldn't take the easy route."

"And what do you mean by that?"

"I mean," he leaned into your ear, lips brushing against the edge,"what kind of woman wouldn't wanna fuck two guys who clearly wanna fuck her and happens to live with?"

Jenos hands snakes back to your ass, gripping it hard. Your brows furrowed as you looked up at him, who remained as calm and collected as he did earlier. God it made you crazy. You were already wet from the interaction with Jaemin earlier, this one with Jeno just making you soaked.

"You're so rough, don't manhandle me," you whined, chest slightly pushing against his.

"Don't pretend you don't like it rough. 'Harder, faster'," he mocked. You've been a little less discreet than you would've liked in the past, leading to weeks and weeks of bullying by the two. "Your taste in men is horrible. If you have to keep telling them what to do, they're horrible."

"And if I fuck you and Jaem, what would that make me," you ask, tilting your head.

"Smart."

You laugh, taking another big sip from your cup. All Jeno could think about was how close you were to him. How close he is to ripping your lack of real clothes off. He just wanted you to admit that you've been thinking about it too, but he's fine if you didn't. He enjoyed the chase. He watched you place the cup on the coffee table that's next to you, fully immersing yourself in the conversation you were having with him. But Jeno wishes he could immerse himself the same as you. The way you look at him, the way you let your fingers graze his arms. You had no idea.

"Do you like the police costumes," Jeno asked you, content expression on his face.

You nod, moving your arms from around his neck and placing them on his shoulders. "Of course I do. You look hot," you complimented, grazing your fingers down his arms.

"Hot enough for you to fuck?"

You gave him a soft laugh, rolling your eyes. "Keep asking and it'll never happen."

"So you've considered."

You shook your head, avoiding the obvious answer but he knew you better than that. You thought about fucking him and Jaemin almost everyday. The thought of them bending you over, fist in your hair as they took you from behind plagued your once sane mind more times than you would like to admit. The feeling of their rough strong hands on your body, forcing you into any position possible. You couldn't help it. Living in such close quarters with them gave you the privileges of seeing things other women would kill to see. The Halloween costumes made it so much worse, the want for them to dominate you stronger than ever. Maybe you had a thing for power, but whatever it was was turning you into the most horny woman where you stood.

"Don't lie to me," he said quietly. Jeno gave you a smug smile as he leaned into your ear. "Instead of trying to fuck one of these losers, all you have to do is say the word and we'll be out of here."

A shiver ran down your spine feeling his breath on your ear. You needed him badly. You needed Jaemin badly, and you just knew you had to take the opportunity, but not without teasing him so much. Just before you spoke, you felt someone press against your back, whoever it was was not breathing into your neck.

"You guys are having fun without me?"

You gulped, Jaemin's deep whisper traveling right between your legs. Jeno moved his hands to your hips allowing Jaemin to place his own hands on your waist. His fingers played with the thin fabric, nails threatening to tip the thread with every pass. Jaemin pressed his semi hard cock in your ass while Jeno pressed his to your front, sending you into a spiral. You were forcefully sandwiched between your roommates, the air getting thick around you as people began to stare at the three of you.

"Guys people are starting to stare," you say, looking down to avoid eye contact with Jeno.

"And? They're just waiting for us to fuck you right in the middle of this floor. And I bet you're waiting for it too," Jaemin says in your ear, chuckling when you arched your ass on him. For a second it felt like no one was in the room. The music muffled in your ears, the faint feeling of jaemin's lips on your neck and Jeno's lips grazing against your lighting a fire in your chest.

"Stop teasing," you exhale.

"Do you want it as much as we want it," Jeno questioned, biting his lip as he stared at yours.

"Yes."

A wicked smile you couldn't see spread on Jaemin's face hearing your words. "This is gonna be a long night then."

-

The Uber ride consisted of nothing but kissing and touching. You were squeezed between the two men, their hands all over your body not giving a second to breathe. You find yourself kissing both of them at the same time, one or the other pulling you away when they feel they've been left out.

Jaemin's soft touch contrasted how strong his kisses were, his hand resting gently on the back of your neck as he kissed you. He wanted you to feel how much he wanted you, not just know. Jaemin didn't hide how horny he was for you due to the number of drinks he consumed at the party. He palmed himself, his cock straining against the pants of the costume.

Beside you, Jeno kissed neck, holding your waist tight he was pressed against you, sandwiching your body between the both of them. The scene was something straight out of a movie. The three of you are unable to keep your hands to yourselves as your driver tries his best to not watch in the front of the car.

You were in a complete daze, Jeno grabbing your chin gently, turning you to him. You moaned on his lips softly, turning your body to him. Jeno's hands went from your waist to your chest, gripping your breast generously. Jaemin kissed your neck down to your shoulder, his big strong hands making their way between your legs. You gasped softly feeling his thumbs rub your inner thighs dangerously close to your soaking heat.

"Fuck," you whispered, brows furrowing as you felt his thumb graze your clothed clit.

"It would only take me a second to rip this shit fabric off you," he whispered low enough so the driver couldn't hear. "Is that what you want?"

You nodded, gulping as Jeno's hands rubbed up your thighs. "Be patient, pretty. We're almost home," Jeno whispered, kissing the corner of your mouth. You wish you could calm down, but the way jeno's hands sooth you as Jaemin keeps rubbing his thumb dangerously close to your clit makes you feel insane.

You kissed Jeno, hand on his neck as he wanted into his mouth. Jaemin began stroking his thumb softly against your clit, his lips on the back of your neck. Jeno bit your lip softly, kissing you once more as you began to quietly moan. Your hips moved on their own, slightly beginning to grind on his thumb.

"You're such a cute whore, putting on a show for everyone," Jaemin whispered.

"Are you gonna punish me officer?"

Your lips curled into a smile hearing Jaemin's soft laughter. You thought he would be put off by the sentence but instead he whispered something else that made your thoughts run.

"The costume came with handcuffs. You wanna put them to use?"

You nodded, heart beating fast in your chest. Jeno took your chin between his fingers, kissing you softly, his tongue making its way into your mouth. Jeno wrapped his hand around your neck, squeezing it lightly making you moan softly into his mouth.

"U-uh, w-we arrived at your location," said the driver, who was silent the whole ride.

Jeno planted one more kiss on your lips softly, before turning to speak. "Thanks for the ride." The three of you got out of the car, Jeno stopping before walking to the entrance of your shared apartment.

"Mark is your name right?"

"Uh-huh," the driver said, nodding awkwardly.

"Thanks for the ride Mark, I'll give you a hefty tip."

The driver nodded and drove off, the deep red on his cheeks completely noticeable. Jeno walked back to you and Jaemin, who were already eating each other's faces in front of the door. "You two look like 2 drunk sorority girls," he laughed, pulling you away from the other male.

"Well, I'm trying to fuck like a drunk sorority girl so let's go inside," you said, closing your eyes as Jeno kissed your neck. The male chuckled and pulled you into the building followed by Jaemin. The elevator ride up was just as eventful as the car ride, hands and mouths all over you. The ding of the elevator snapped you out of whatever trance they had you in, but not them. They pulled you down the hall and to the door of your apartment, Jaemin's hand fumbling as he put the code into the door.

In the blink of an eye, the three of you were inside and the door was shut. Both of their hands were all over your body, not even giving you a chance to breathe. Jaemin grabbed your face, kissing you roughly. "Fuck I've been waiting for this all night," he mumbled.

"C-can we get to my bedroom at least," you said.

The both of them chuckled at your sudden flustered expression, following you to your room. Once again they didn't even give you time to breathe before they were all over your body. Jaemin pulled you to him, lips on yours as his hands gripped your waist. His hands moved to your tiny shorts, unbuttoning and unzipping the fabric. You kicked your heels off, height shifting but still keeping your lips on his. That's when you feel Jeno come up behind you, pressing himself on your body as he groped your breast from behind, kissing your neck softly.

Jaemin tugs your shorts down letting the fabric fall to the floor. You step out of the shorts, moaning softly when you feel Jeno's hand slip between your legs, cupping your clothed heat.

"Bet you've been thinking about this all night," he whispered in your ear.

You nodded, brows furrowing as Jaemin begins to kiss your neck. "Just fuck me already," you whined softly.

"You're desperate aren't you," Jaemin mumbled, chuckling as he undid the buttons of your body suit. The male pulled the fabric up your body, his fingertips grazing your bare skin lighting a fire in your belly. Jeno wasted no time getting his hand back between your legs, finding that you were wearing nothing but a thong with your tights.

"Jesus, you really were just trying to get fucked tonight weren't you." You closed your eyes, letting your head fall on Jaemin's shoulder taking in the feeling of Jeno rubbing your clothed clit. He smirked to himself watching you push onto his hand as he kept going. "What do you want right now, hm?"

"Anything," you said breathlessly. "Please.."

"Isn't that cute," Jaemin mumbled, chuckling softly. "But are you gonna be a good girl for the rest of the night?"

You groaned softly, rolling your eyes. "Please just fuck me," you whined.

"You didn't answer his question," Jeno chimed, fingers playing with your fishnets.

You wanted to say something else, but you realized they had the upper hand at the moment. You needed to have sex badly, and was so desperate to get something out of someone. And as much as it pained you to not pick a fight with them m, you obliged not just for your own sanity, but also because the thought of them telling you what to do was fucking hot.

"I'll be a good girl," you said reluctantly.

"Good," Jaemin smirked. "Get on your knees."

Both of their eyes never left you as you dropped to the ground slowly. Their bodies towered over you in the most degrading way and you loved it. You move your hands towards Jaemin's belt, undoing it all while staring up at him. His eyes were glued on you, along with Jeno's, who was undoing his belt and unzipping his pants. You tugged his pants down, allowing his hard on to spring free from the confines of the fabric.

"Shit," you whispered to yourself, staring at the size of him.

You look to your left to see Jeno was just a big, a gulp moving down your throat.

"What? You're scared," Jaemin mocked.

"Don't tell me you're a quitter Y/N," Jeno taunts, "we barely got started."

"Shut up," you grumbled. Your face grew hot, breath a little shallow as you wrapped your hand around the base of Jeno's cock, stroking it slowly as you turned to Jaemin's. Jaemin's heavily lidded eyes lingered on you, watching you as you licked the tip of his cock, staring at him with those big eyes he loved so much.

You wrapped your mouth around his head, sucking and bobbing your head slowly. The way he looked at you lit a fire in you, the fire traveling to your stomach and even lower, making you press your legs together. You lifted your mouth off him, wrapping your hand around his shaft as you turned to Jeno.

You licked up the base of his cock all the way to his tip, making the man scrunch his brows. He bit his lip, watching you close your eyes as you started to suck him off with a bit more vigor, hand moving on Jaemin at the same pace. Everything about this looked like it jumped straight out of a porno. You're still in half of your costume, Jaemin and Jeno dressed like cops with their pants to their ankles, both their cocks in your mouth.

"Good girl, keep going just like that," Jeno mumbled, hand stroking the back of your head.

The praise went right to your head and your cunt making you squeeze your legs tight. The way Jeno looked at you made you feel like he was about to eat you alive, and that's all you wanted. You pulled off of him, breathing heavily trying to catch your breath. Your hand stroked him fast as you turned to Jaemin, giving his neglected cock your attention.

You stuck your tongue out, tapping the tip on the wet muscle in the most teasing way possible. Jaemin watched you in awe as you kissed his tip softly, opening your mouth wide to take him. Jaemin licked his lips, enjoying watching you.

"Take all of it."

And you did, sinking lower and lower until all you could do was splutter around him, gagging as he hit the back of your throat. Jaemin took the back of your head, pushing you until your nose touched his skin. Eyes screwed shut, trying to be the best girl you possibly could below both of these men making you go crazy.

"Good girl," Jaemin cooed. "Take it like the slut you are."

Jaemin took his hand off your head, allowing you to rise from him. You coughed, heaving as you tried to get oxygen in your lungs but even that couldn't stop you from spitting on his cock and taking him in your mouth again. You bobbed your head, hand pumping Jeno at the same pace you had no idea how you looked but it couldn't have been anything short from a mess.

However, to the men standing above you, you looked like a wet dream. On your knees, hands on both of them, tears straining your face, drool falling from your pretty lips.

"Fuck, just look at her," Jeno grunted, thrusting into your hand slowly as you stroked him. You stopped bobbing your head, pulling his cock out your mouth and turned back to Jeno. They were both so close and you could tell. You could feel it in the way they were talking, breathing, thrusting in your mouth or hands. Jeno raked his hand through his hair, throwing his head back at the feeling of you deepthroating him, a loud groan leaving his lips.

"I'm so fucking close," Jeno moaned, the sound of his voice making you weak.

"C'mon baby, make us cum." Jaemin breathing heavily along with the male across from him, watching you with focused eyes as you removed Jeno from your mouth, not just stroking them in your hands quickly.

Looking up at them, your doe eyes shifted rapidly between them, wanting them to cum badly. "Please," you spoke with a breathy moan, voice raspy. "Cum on my fucking face."

Your voice sent them both over the edge, the pressure building up in both of them resulting in your cum landing all over your face. You stuck your tongue out, catching both of their seed swallowing and sticking it out again to show them.

"Good girl," Jaemin praised. "such a good girl. Stand up for me pretty."

You did as you were told, letting go of their cocks as you rose to your feet, knees sore from being on them too long. Jaemin pulled you to him, lips crashing on yours. Behind you, you felt Jeno's hand snake underneath you, popping the buttons of the body suit. You moaned softly, feeling his hands pull the fabric up your stomach. He traced his fingers on your ass, giving you neck slow wet kisses.

You pulled away from Jaemin, reaching back for Jeno as you felt his fingers graze your inner thighs once more.

"I let me taste you," he said, ensuing an enthusiastic nod from you. Jeno took you, sitting you on the edge of your bed followed by him sinking to his knees right in front of you. You thought about this happening more times than you'd like to admit. But now here he is, spreading your legs wide for him, eyes unable to look away from your soaked thong and slick thighs. You were a mess and don't even know.

"Fuck," Jaemin breathed. "You like being on your knees that much?" Jaemin sat next to you, stroking his semi soft cock as he watched Jeno tease you.

Jeno kissed your inner thighs, tongue grinding along your skin licking your arousal. His eyes never left yours. They pierced into yours as if they could read every thought you had at the moment. A shiver ran through your spine as you circled his tongue on your clothes clit, hand reaching up and pulling the thong against the sensitive bud.

"Perfect little pussy just for me," he mumbled to himself, pushing the fabric aside.

"God we should've done this a long time ago," Jaemin mumbled.

Jeno gave you clit one lick, making your body shudder, a sigh falling from your lips. He did it again, this time harder and longer. Jeno wrapped his arms around the underside of your legs, placing soft kisses on your cunt. Jaemin turned your head to him, locking lips with you as Jeno began to eat you out with vigorous tongue moving all over.

Jaemin kissed you deeper, tongue exploring your mouth as his hand kept pumping his cock. Jaemin pulled away, smirking to himself as he looked at your cum covered face. "So fucking pretty," he mumbled, kissing the corner of your mouth.

Your moans grew, panting heavily as Jeno sucked your clit, flicking his tongue on the bud. Looking down at him, you couldn't help but get even more turned on. His mouth was covered in your slick, tongue moving inside you like crazy. Your hips began to move on its own, grinding on his face. You always loved his nose, especially right now. His nose continued to stimulate the swollen bud as he licked at your entrance.

"Fuck Jeno, oh my God," you whimpered, pleasure amplified by Jaemin's lips on your neck.

"Is this pretty pussy gonna cum for me," he mumbled, flicking his tongue on your clit fast. Jeno removed his arm from around your leg, hand immediately making its way in-between your legs. In the blink of an eye, his fingers were inside you, fingering you hard and fast.

"Jeno, fuck just like that," you whimpered, body starting to shake from the intense pleasure. He never took his eyes off you, lips wrapping around your clit once again, sucking it hard.

"F-fuck, you're gonna make me cum." You ran your hand through his hair, gripping it tight as you pulled his face closer to your body. Just as you felt yourself about to cum, Jaemin took your chin, kissing you messily. You moaned loudly into the other male's mouth, sucking his tongue as you whined, feeling yourself cum around Jeno's fingers.

You sat there panting as Jaemin cupped your face, trying to catch your breath and whatever piece of mind was still there as Jeno moved his fingers from inside you.

"You did so good Y/N," Jeno praised, standing up between your legs. "Open your mouth for me."

You did, dropping your jaw on command. No man has ever been able to dominate you in the way that these two have, but you love it. You were fuzzy, completely fucked out. You just wanted to be a good girl for them. Jeno looked down at you, taking in the absolute mess that you were and reveled in it. The amount of times he's jerked off to this couldn't compare to being here at the moment. You were a tease and knew it. He couldn't wait to wreck you.

Jaemin watched Jeno grab your jaw and spit in your mouth, sticking his fingers coated in your cum down your throat right after. Almost like you've done this a thousand times more, you sucked his fingers, staring up at him with begging eyes.

"Fuck if I knew you were like this I would've fucked you a long time ago," Jaemin mumbled. You pulled off his fingers, nothing but a string of saliva connecting your bodies till it broke.

"I need both of you inside me," you said, face hot at the thought.

"At the same time," Jaemin questioned. Both of the men glanced at each other, silently communicating.

You nodded, gulping as you stared at them with desperate eyes. "Please.."

Jeno sighed, laughing softly to your begging. He began to unbutton his shirt, the sight of his fingers moving setting your body on fire. "God, I love it when you beg."

You turned your head, Jaemin already out of his shirt. He removed his shoes, kicking his pants and boxers off his ankles. His hands then tugged on your bodysuit taking the sheer fabric off of you as lifted your arms. Then went your bra, Jaemin sliding it off your shoulders kissing the back of your neck softly. He took his shirt, wiping the cum that covered your face off, making you sigh in relief.

"Face down ass up," Jaemin said, tone more assertive than before.

You did as you were told, arching your ass in the air watching them watch you. Their eyes burned holes in your skin, smiles taunting you as you let them feel up your body.

"Where's your lube," Jeno questioned, raising a brow.

"Third drawer."

But before Jeno even pulled it out, Jaemin had already decided he was ready. You sighed softly, feeling his soft lips on the plush of your ass, his hands kneading your body like a stress ball. Jaemin never realized how unintentionally rough he was, how strong he was and it annoyed you except for this time. Your already sensitive cunt grew even more aroused as he squeezed harder. Jaemin smacked your ass hard, making your body jump.

"Has anyone ever eaten your ass before," he asked, his voice sounding darling from behind you.

Your face goes hot, gulping as you shake your head "no."

"There's a first time for everything."

The sensation that went through your body when his tongue touched your asshole was unexpected. Maybe you were simply too horny to function, but it actually felt good. Jaemin licked your backend again, this time starting from your pussy. Unintentionally, you pushed against his face more earning a hard smack on your ass once again.

"Fuck," you whispered, brows scrunched together. His tongue swirled around the tight muscle, eliciting yet another whine from your lips. Jeno stroked his cock, watching the both of you, precum already dripping. Jaemin was as hard as a brick, precum leaking down his tip as buried his face in your body. "J-Jaemin, this feels so good."

"Yeah?" He chuckled darkly, staring at you like you were his prey. He felt your body tremble in his hands when you felt his spit slide down your ass without warning. Jaemin rubbed the pad of his thumb on your puckered hole as he reached over to grab the lube. With one hand he opened it, squeezing its contents on your body. "You sure you want this," he asked, lids heavy with desire.

"Y-yes."

Jaemin took his finger, rubbing the lube a bit more before you gasped softly, feeling his finger move past the tight muscle. The deeper and deeper he pushed his finger, the harder your hands gripped the cover of your bed. The feeling was new, completely foreign and it would definitely take time before you got used to it. Your eyes were screw shut, the discomfort of him thrusting his finger in and out of you making your back hunch and whine tiredly.

"I know it feels strange but you'll start feeling good, I promise," he said softly.

And he was right, because after some time, that fire in your belly started to come back making you pant softly against your pillow. Your body becomes more relaxed, your brain adjusting the prior discomfort to pleasure. But you wanted more, needed more.

"A-add another finger," you mumbled, making Jeno bite his lip as he watched you.

Jaemin smirked, doing as you said. You gave him the reaction he expected. He loved your pretty sounds so much they gave him goosebumps. You were right around his fingers, the pressure making his cock leak. He popped the cap of the lube open, adding more.

"You're doing so well baby. Does it feel good," he said, voice sultry and sweet.

"Mhm." You could barely form real sentences, your brain too fogged in pleasure. You found yourself arching into his fingers more and more as he fingered you slowly. Jaemin's other hand massages your ass, adding more to the pleasure swimming all over your body. The room was silent with sounds of heavy breathing and the sound of Jaemin's fingers slipping in and out of you. That was until he slipped another finger in you without warning, making you whine loudly.

"F-fuck, it's too much," you whined.

"If you can't take three fingers, you can't take my cock," he said smoothly. "Don't tell me you're quitting Y/N."

"N-no," you managed to get out.

"Good," he mumbled. "Do you think you can take Jeno and my fingers at the same time?"

You nodded, gulping hard at the image you created in your head. "Yeah," you answered breathlessly. You lifted your body weakly, letting out a tiny whine as Jaemin pulled out his fingers. Jeno climbed underneath you, his head plopping down on your pink pillow. His hands ran up and down your sides, trying to soothe your sensitive body.

"God you're so pretty," he mumbled, staring at you from below. You hadn't seen yourself since you got out of the car, but you could only assume he was lying. Your lipstick was probably smudged everywhere, mascara running along your cheeks. You were anything but pretty, but his words still made you blush. "I would put a condom on, but I have no idea where you keep those."

"I don't have any," you said blankly, just now realizing your lack of protection. "But… I don't mind. As long as it's okay with you guys."

Jeno didn't say a word, only giving you a look like he's been dreaming of this moment. He thought about it all the time, fucking you nice and raw. The thought of having your tight cunt around him was about to make him spiral. Jeno took his cock, rubbing the tip along your slit slowly.

He grinned, watching your brows knit at the feeling. "You want me to fill you up real bad don't you," he taunted, rubbing your clit softly.

"Yes, I want you to stretch me. Please," you whined, begging for him with a hot face. You let out a breathy moan, feeling his tip slowly enter you. Jeno let your hips do the rest of the work, groaning when you fully sat on his cock. "Jeno, you're so big," you moaned, mindlessly beginning to grind on him. Your hands curled on his chest, the stretch he was giving you overstimulating your senses but you couldn't help yourself.

Suddenly, you felt two strong hands grab your hips and still them. "You're so eager you can't even wait," Jaemin said with a small laugh. He kneeled behind you, forcefully pushing your body down against Jeno, making you arch your back. That's when Jeno wrapped his arms around you keeping you still as Jaemin added more lube. You shivered feeling the cold substance on your skin, hissing as his fingers filled your asshole once again.

Your body is on fire, Jeno filling your pussy while Jaemin plays with your ass. The vulnerability of the position, the way both of their eyes burned into you as you laid there weak and unable to have a single coherent thought only turned you on even more. Jeamin pumped his fingers in you while Jeno thrusted in you slowly, the discomfort beginning to melt away as time passed. His dick was painfully hard, wanting to do nothing but ravage your body.

"You think you're ready," he said, chuckling when seeing your fucked out expression.

"Y-yes, fuck me please."

Jaemin moved closer to you, pulling his fingers out at you smoothly. Picking up the lube, he added a generous amount. You bite your lip hard looking, Jeno unwrapping his arms from around you allows you to look over your shoulder. Jaemin pressed the head of his cock against your hole, his eyes droopy in lust. Jaemin pushed the head of his cock into you, the stretch making you screw your eyes shut, nails digging into Jeno's chest.

"I love first timers," Jaemin groaned. His brows furrowed deep, gripping your hips. Very slowly, he fills you, the tightness making the three of you moan. You were in a daze, body gone completely limp and weak. You never felt so full in your life and you loved every second of it. The only thing you could do was take deep breaths, as Jaemin bottomed out inside of you. Tears pricked the edges of your eyes as you let your face fall into the crook of Jeno's neck.

"You're doing so good baby," Jeno whispered in your ear, his hands traveling to your ass, squeezing your body hard.

The action made you clench, giving both men a chill up their spines. "Fuck," you whimpered softly. "So full..t-too much.."

"Shh baby you can do it," he moaned softly, hips starting to rock into yours slowly. "Take it Y/N. Be a good girl and take it."

With every rock of his hips, it caused your body to move also, adding a slight bounce on Jeno's cock. You couldn't even compute the feeling flowing through your body. All you could do was lay there weak as they filled every part of you, drooling and moaning uncontrollably. Jeno turned your head to him, kissing you lazily as he began to thrust in and out of you slowly along with Jaemin.

Your breathing quickened, hands moving from his chest to his shoulders. "Oh my God," you whimpered tearfully. Your body was completely overstimulated, overwhelmed with lust.

"Poor baby, she's crying," Jeno said, chuckling darkly.

"Wanted both of us at the same time, but can barely handle it." Jeamin spread your cheeks further watching both his and Jeno's dick move in and out of you. "So fucking pretty and tight for me. You've been waiting for this haven't you."

Absent-mindedly, you nod, the only thing in your brain is pleasing them.

"Good girl," Jaemin said in a slight whisper. "Every time you cum from now on, I want it to be from my cock in your ass. Understand?"

"Y-yes," you said in a small groan.

"Good girl." A hard smack landed on your ass check, the pain quickly turning into pleasure. Jeno was beginning to get impatient, the feeling of Jaemin practically rubbing right against him, the tight and snug fit of the both of you quickly about to make him cum.

"Faster," you whine. "B-both of you, please." Both men obliged your pleading, watching you throw your head back, eyes rolling back while you moaned in controllably. Your hips pushed against the both of them, desperate for them to be seeing inside you.

"Such a fucking cock slut," Jeno said through gritted teeth, his hands trailing down your arched back. "You like having two dicks in you don't you?"

"Y-yes," you said, gasping, feeling a pair of fingers on your neglected clit. Looking at your bodies, you see Jeno's fingers rubbing it fast. You were nowhere near cumming, but now you felt it. You felt the pit in your stomach grow. "I'm gonna cum," you moaned, tears threatening to escape again.

"Cum on my cock." Jeno's voice sent a shockwave through you, your orgasm coming to you almost violently, body shaking, nails digging into his shoulders as you held onto him. Your pussy clenched tight around him, making you clench just as tight around Jaemin, who was pressing his fingers into your sides. For the first time in a long time, you came so hard you saw starts and it felt real fucking good.

"Fuck, you take me so well," Jeno groaned. He lost all self control after feeling you cum around him, thrust started to get fast. Jaemin matched his speed, making your already weak body slump over on the man below you. Your face was buried in his neck once again, whimpers and whines escaping.

Jaemin pounded into you as Jeno went deeper, every single movement making you see stars, your brain going fuzzy with pleasure.

Jaemin watched you sit up as best as you could, looking back watching both of them stuffing you like a doll. He took one glance at your wet face, hands gripping hips hard when the sight made his mind reel. That's when he felt himself coming closer and closer to his orgasm. Everything stimulated him quickly, the way you felt to the way you looked on top of Jeno, he was going to cum quickly.

"Fuck I'm so close," he groaned. "You want me to cum in your ass?"

"Yes, yes cum in me," you moaned weakly.

With a few more thrust, you felt Jaemin cum, his loud breathy moans filling your ears. Jaemin kept thrusting, riding out the high until he couldn't take it anymore. Slowly he pulled out of you, breathing heavily as he stared at your gaping asshole, cum slowly leaking out.

In an instant, you wanted him back inside you, missing the feeling of being full, but Jeno didn't let you miss it for too long. The man took your hips in his rough hands, holding your body up as he fucked up into you.

"J-jeno, fuck, right there," you sobbed, throwing your head back. You mustered up enough energy to bounce along with his thrust, your orgasm finally approaching for the third time that night. You squeezed around him tight, making the man moan loudly."Cum in me," you whined, holding onto his shoulders. "Fill me up."

His hands slid from your hips to your ass, squeezing so hard it was going to leave a bruise. "You like this? You like being fucked like a whore?"

"Mhm," you nodded. Desperate to reach your climax you start bouncing on him as he pounds into you. Soon enough you begin to feel your stomach tighten, on the brink of cumming. "Fuck, I-im cumming."

You came hard, body shivering on top of the male underneath you. Soon Jeno came with a loud moan, the warm liquid making your brows furrow. The three of you were exhausted, bodies completely spent– especially yours. Jeno was still inside you when you plopped down on his body, heart beating and trying to catch your breath even though you had minimal movement.

"Hey you alright," Jaemin said, poking at your back.

You didn't respond, your brain still fried from the high you just got. You laid on Jeno silently, tuning everything out.

"I think we broke her," Jeno jokes. His hands caress your waist, taking in the breaths fanning his neck. Jeno thrusted into you, earning a breathy moan.

"Too sensitive," you managed to say.

Jeno chuckled softly, kissing your cheek tenderly. "You did a good job Y/N. God you're so pretty when you cum."

"She looks like she's about to pass out," Jaemin commented, gazing at your expression.

He was right you were exhausted, horny, and one hundred percent not ready for the pain you were going to have in the morning. You gave Jeno a small whine when he pulled out of you, laying you next to him on the bed. You felt him run his hand on your side, looking at him with begging eyes as he rubbed your waist.

"You can't look at me like that and not say what you want," he mumbled, licking his lips.

"Kiss me," you said quietly, slightly pouting.

Jeno gave you a small smile, kissing you softly like you asked. "Let's get you cleaned up okay?"

Jeno stood up followed by Jaemin. Jaemin tugged your limp body to the corner of the bed, putting his arms under you to lift you up. You wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him close to your body.

"So fucking cute," he mumbled. "Wanna watch a movie later?"

You shook your head, eyes getting heavy as he carried you to the bathroom. "I just wanna take a bath and sleep."

"Okay we can work with that," Jeno agreed.

You laughed to yourself in your drowsy state, biting your lip softly. "This has officially been the best Halloween ever."

[bbydoll18xx]

Guilty As Sin?

'We've already done it in my head'

Paige Bueckers x reader

I've never written anything, so this could very well be terrible, but I have a teeny tiny crush and it's killing me lol here we go!

word count: 3.1k

warnings: some naughty thoughts, ANGST, friends to lovers aka my fave

....................................................................................................

If there was one thing you had learned throughout your time at uconn, it was that it was pretty fucking difficult being Paige Buecker’s best friend. 

You had met her early in your freshman year when the boisterous blonde was partnered with you in an introductory biology course. You attempted to hold back a groan and an eyeroll as you heard your professor assign the two of you together for an upcoming lab project. You hated group projects, and even more, you could not stand the prospect of not getting a good grade in a class so important for your major. 

Paige, even as a freshman, was extremely popular. Her incessant smirk caused girls to blush under her gaze, and the boys basically broke their necks trying to impress her. She was the type of girl who knew she was hot shit.

Unfortunately, that was your type.

As Paige strolled over to where you were waiting for her, you tried desperately to ignore the uptick of your pulse. ‘Get it together,’ you thought to yourself. Girls like that should have no control over you.

“Hey, I’m Paige. I don’t think we’ve met. I would’ve remembered someone like you,” she murmurs flirtatiously, looking you up and down. Trying to keep the pink out of your cheeks and taking a deep breath, you hold out your hand and introduce yourself. 

That was the beginning of the wildly complex and intimate friendship you would build with Paige.

As a senior in college, you had learned many things: don't drink copious amounts of alcohol without eating some carbs first, avoid getting into ubers alone, do not, under any circumstances, hook up with your TA, and falling in love with your best friend is never good.

It started off innocently enough.

Paige was clingy and affectionate to those she was close with. You, being bisexual and surrounded by mostly straight people before coming to uconn, were hesitant with showing any sort of affection. You had always worried about accidentally giving your girl friends the wrong impression. Paige never cared, though, as she conditioned you into accepting hugs and tentative hand-holding. You grew to crave her warm, longer fingers wrapped around yours or her hand resting on your leg when she’s next to you at dinner or in the car. 

You had realized you were head over heels for her in your sophomore year, and the rest was history.

History you’d very much like to forget.

You were laying on the couch in your apartment. Music filled the room and you basked in the warmth of the sunshine. You rarely have moments of peace anymore, now that school had started back up.

Suddenly, the front door flung open dramatically, allowing several members of uconn’s women’s basketball team to enter as if they owned the place. 

“Hey girlie pop!” screamed KK. “We are going out tonight, and before you say no, you are coming with us.” 

“What happened to bodily autonomy?” You questioned with an eye roll. This happened all the time. Paige and her teammates had made it their personal mission to turn you into an alcoholic.

“Fuck that,” chirped Paige. “You had all week to chill, and I will not stand for that shit for another minute. Party P is comin' out in full force tonight, and I expect the same from yo' ass."

You let your eyes lock with hers. God that shade of blue made you want to drown in it, gasping for sanity as if it was air. 

“C’mon, you always do this. We’re going crazy tonight,” demanded Nika.

Pretending to think about it, you hesitantly agree. You didn’t have any control when it came to Paige. Whatever she wanted from you, she got. You chalked it up to being best friends, but your stupid brain always reminded you of the true source of power.

Paige, Nika, KK, and Azzi all celebrated as you acquiesced, already planning drink orders, outfits, and song requests at the bar they always frequented.

You sighed as Paige sat down next to you. You could handle this. You always did. Focused on anything other than her, you pick at a piece of lint on the soft green couch. Everything seemed to be a distraction from her. The heat of her body sends your pulse racing, just as it did the very first time you met. She really was an enigma.

“I’m glad you’re coming,” she murmurs softly. “Wouldn't be the same if you weren’t there.”

Taking a page out of the Paige playbook, you look her up and down and respond with an “I know.” She momentarily wears a look of shock, before her lips slide into that smirk again, and she laughs. The sound makes you want to run through a field of flowers and then jump from a building.

The pregame was, like always, chaotic, loud, and gave you anxiety. A drunk Paige was a clingy Paige, and you were not sure you could handle the extra touching tonight. One of the bottles of vodka that sat on the counter in the kitchen was beckoning to you, and you decided quickly that the only way you were getting through the night was with copious amounts of alcohol.

As you swallowed with a grimace, feeling the burn slide down your throat and settle into a warm pool in your belly, the door opened. Paige appeared, rubbing her hands together, looking like she was ready to fuck shit up. Your shit already felt ruined as you gulped at the sight of her. The black crop top she had on made you quickly spin around, shooting another shot in a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the hunger that was brewing.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down there. We don’t need you wasted before we even leave,” Paige taunts teasingly, as she saunters over to you.

With your cheeks pink and inhibitions already lowered, you licked your lips in a manner you could only hope looked seductive and put the bottle into her outstretched hand. For the second time today, a flicker of surprise graced her features. ‘Good,’ you thought. ‘Two can play that game.’ 

As Ted’s was close to the apartments you all were living in, it was decided that a walk would be more efficient than attempting to wrangle the numerous already drunk girls into ubers.

You cherished the warm breeze flowing through your hair, allowing it to briefly sober you up.  Walking alongside Azzi and Caroline, you let out another small sigh, catching their attention. Your feelings were evident to pretty much everyone except Paige, and her teammates often tried to coax you into admitting your feelings to her. 

“Try to have fun tonight. Find someone hot to grind on, and you’ll feel better,” Azzi said unhelpfully. You laughed, but it wasn't a bad idea. “You’re right. I need a distraction. And preferably someone who is not blonde,” You muttered, causing Azzi and Caroline to giggle. 

Paige’s head whipped around at the sound of laughter. She pouted for a second before bounding over to you. She secretly hated the attention you gave her teammates; she wanted you all to herself.

Paige was possessive, as well as mouthy when drunk, which could be a messy combination. But Paige did not care about being messy tonight. She wanted your attention and your attention only. She knew she could very well embarrass herself, but the desperation of needing your attentiveness was far more important. She could handle her anxieties in the morning. 

“There’s my pretty princess,” Paige announces loudly, taking your hand into hers, almost possessively. The pet name wasn’t unfamiliar. Paige called you every name under the sun except the one on your birth certificate, yet the sudden affection caused your heart to lurch dangerously.

You needed a drink.

The bar was already buzzing when you walked in alongside the girls, still being pulled along by the tall blonde. You were fortunate it was dark inside, allowing a sense of privacy to indulge in the intimacy Paige was supplying to you.

She places a hand on your waist, looking down at you. “Imma get you a drink, babe. Stay here with the girls, and do not let any creeps touch you.” You could tell the few drinks she had at the pregame were already getting to her. She was getting more proprietorial.

You nodded, but you wanted to see how far you could push her. You’d do anything for her attention, even if that meant flirting with a boring guy to test her. She was sexy when she was pissed.

You fantasized about the way her jaw clenches when she's angry, as you scoped out for someone to be the target of your favorite unhealthy game. A six-foot blonde with light blue eyes catches your gaze, and you smirk. ‘Game time,’ you think.

With a smoldering look in your eyes, and the alcohol in your veins to keep you feeling confident, you walk up to the guy and introduce yourself. You find out his name was Josh and quickly shift in closer to him, feigning intimacy you would only ever want with Paige. 

It’s not long before you feel Paige slide between you and Josh, creating the distance you wanted since you walked up to him. 

“Paigey!” you exclaim. “This is Josh. He wants to dance with me.”

You see Paige jaw clench in annoyance and she pushes the drink she brought you into your hand before wrapping her now free arm around your waist with her hand splayed against your belly. You shiver at the contact.

“Go away before I make you, bro. She’s mine,” Paige practically barks at Josh. He shrinks away with a weird expression on his face.

You weren’t sad to see him go.

“Thanks for rescuing me, Paigey,” you beam up at her and take a drink. Paige’s eyes never leave your lips as you bite them, looking around the crowded bar. Your lips are pink from the gloss you just applied, and she thinks about how they’d feel against hers. 

Paige would never admit it aloud, but she thinks about you. She thinks about your dimples when you smile at her. She thinks about your laugh. She thinks about how you taste. In her head, they are together. In her head, you are spread out underneath her, begging for her tongue, her fingers, for anything.

Paige is used to people throwing themselves at her, and the idea of rejection, especially from you, makes her shrink back in fear. 

Paige’s eyes are hazy as the dirty Shirley starts to float its way through her veins. She relishes in the feeling of lowered inhibitions and the perfect excuse to get closer to you. Paige pulls you into her to dance. With the alcohol fully in your system, as well, you giggle and seductively dance against her. You can feel the tight muscles of her abs up against you, and you swallow thickly. It's difficult to ignore the way it makes you feel hot and sticky. 

“God, P,” you mumbled against her pale throat. 

“You look so good dancin’ against me, you don’t even know, babe,” Paige replies with her signature smirk.

You could feel the boundaries of your friendship slowly stretching to accommodate the feelings of lust sparking between the two of you.

Between the dancing and the large amounts of alcohol flowing, the night flew by quickly. Soon, you were getting pulled through the door and back out into the chilly Connecticut air with Paige holding you steady. You were a notorious lightweight compared to the girls of the basketball team, and that hadn’t changed tonight. 

“P-paigeyyy,” you whined needily. “Need you,” you pouted up at the blonde. The other girls in your vicinity shared curious looks with each other. You had never acted like this before whilst drunk, and no one really knew how to respond, Paige included. 

“What do ya need from me, princess?” Paige asked with a chuckle.

You motion for her to lean down, and you whisper in her ear, “kisses.” 

“Oh? You wanna kiss me?” Paige questions, feeling all the blood rush to her head.

You nod with a dreamy look on your face. You were going to regret this in the morning, but right now all you could think about was how soft her lips looked and how much you wished you could be hers.

'We've already done it in my head,' you thought drunkenly.

Paige looks down at you with an unrecognizable look, but she presses a soft kiss on your forehead and says, ‘“let's get you home and to bed, doll.” 

As you stumble back into Paige’s apartment and onto her bed, you look up at her and raise your hands over your head, making grabby hands at her. Paige rolls her eyes fondly but helps you get undressed. Walking you into the bathroom, she lifts you up onto the counter effortlessly, helping you take your makeup off and brush your teeth.

It felt so domestic you could cry.

Climbing into bed, your drunk mind prepared itself to sleep next to Paige. It would never feel like enough to you. You wanted all of her. 

Paige lies down behind you, wrapping a long and muscular arm around your waist, caging you in just the way you like it. You are a second away from sleep enveloping you, when you think you hear Paige whisper, “I am so in love with you.”

Your heart stops.

You wake up the next morning with your head pounding. You squint your eyes and look around. Paige is still sleeping next to you. You gently smile as you gaze at her peaceful figure. You wish you could stop time to stay here in this bubble with her. Soon, you’ll go back to being just Paige’s best friend, and the relationship you’ve built up in your head will come crashing back down.

Soon enough, the blonde wakes up, ripping you from your daydreams. She smiles at you, and turns over to completely face your body. “Crazy night, huh,” she alludes slyly.

Your eyebrows crinkle in question. “Did something happen?"

“Uh yeah…you don’t remember what you said to me?” she asks.

You shake your head in confusion, but you start to attempt to recall the events of last night, and all of a sudden it comes back to you. You recall asking her to kiss you, hanging all over her, and the incessant pouting and neediness. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment, and immediately you jump out of bed to leave.

“Wait, don’t go please,” Paige pleads in a way that is startling unlike her.

You ignore her pleas, gathering your stuff and running out of her apartment. Tears burn your eyes as they threaten to slide down your face. You try to stifle your sobs as you climb the stairs two at a time and get to your own door. You throw yourself into your shower as you attempt to drown out your own cries. 

As you sat on the floor of your shower you could not believe how stupid you were. Drunk flirting with your best friend would be the end of your friendship. You could see it already. Paige coming to you, trying to let you down easy. You felt so humiliated.

You sat there until the water got uncomfortably cold, leaving goosebumps against your skin. As you toweled off, you replayed the events of last night in your head for the millionth time. The dancing in the bar, the walk back to Paige’s apartment, her helping you undress. You sigh at the idea of losing her before it all comes crashing back.

“I am so in love with you,” she had whispered into your hair. You still at the memory. Paige loves you? Sure it's common knowledge that you loved and craved her with all of your being, but a love that was requited? It was almost too much to think about. 

You grab your phone that you had left abandoned on the couch and see the messages from the blonde. Messages of regret and longing fill your phone. One more pops up as you scroll, saying ‘I’m coming over. I won’t let you avoid me over this bullshit.’ 

A few moments passed before there was a loud banging on the door to your apartment. You had never felt so appreciative that your roommates had left for the weekend. Your breath grew ragged as the door slowly creaked open, revealing a panting Paige. Her blue eyes looked almost wild as they met yours.

“C’mere, just let me explain,” she says quietly. You weren't used to Paige being quiet and almost solemn. It scared you, just as the thought of confrontation did. This was not a conversation you wanted to have. 

Fighting your own instincts to immediately bolt, you gingerly sit on the couch where she had already made herself comfortable. Some things never change.

“Listen,” she starts out cautiously. “I never want things to be weird between us. I never imagined I would be feeling this way towards someone who was just a friend, but…I think we haven’t been ‘just friends’ in a while.”

You finally allow yourself to meet her gaze, trying to search for any semblance of where this conversation could possibly be going. Surprisingly, she looked hopeful, as if she knew something you did not.

“I-i want you. Like, more than a friend,” Paige stutters out, “And I think you feel the same way. We’ve both been too scared to admit it, but I’m tired of ignoring how you literally make me feel whole.”

You blink back more tears in realization that the last three years of hell of being only Paige Bueckers’ best friend was finally coming to an end. She could finally be all yours and yours only.

Without thinking, you place a hand on her jaw, bringing her to your lips. They meet yours with such hesitancy you almost think you’ve ruined the delicate balance of what you are to each other at the moment. Paige lets out a breathy sigh and pulls you onto her lap. 

You were heavenstruck. 

As the both of you finally pull away from the drug of a kiss, you look at each other and giggle.

“So much for the dramatics, I guess,” laughs Paige. 

You smile, rolling your eyes. “Not my fault,” you pout. “I have no control when it comes to you, P.”

“Same,” grins Paige. “The only thing left to do is figure out how to tell the girls. They’ve all been beggin’ me to tell you ‘bout my lil crush on you.”

“Those bitches knew?” you ask incredulously.

“Well yeah,” Paige says. “I’m not subtle.”

You giggle at how stupid you felt. The signs were there all along, but the fear of rejection and the cloud of lust had obscured any indications of reciprocity. 

“Let’s just start making out the next time we’re in front of them and see how they react,” Paige suggests with a waggle of her eyebrows. 

You could hear the whoops and cheers already.

“Deal,” you say blissfully. 

She was finally yours. 

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Kindred Spirits | Azriel x Rhys’daughter!Reader

Summary: Amidst Starfall, Azriel discovers that he has a mating bond with you, Rhysand’s daughter, and after pleading his case, he gets to spend some quality time with you at the cabin.

Word Count: ~ 4.2k

Warnings: Age gap, smut, p in v penetration, fingering, wing play, shadow play, you get the dea

Minors, do not interact!

A/N: Couldn’t get the idea of Rhys’ daughter with Az out of my head so I decided to write it down, hope you enjoy<3

Masterlist | Next

Requests are open!

From the moment he’d laid eyes on you, a newborn still covered in the blood and fluids of Feyre, cradled gently in her arms, he’d known you would be special.

Not just special to him as a family member, in the same way your older brother, Nyx, was, but something deep in him, more ancient and wise, had known.

He’d watched you grow up, always watching quietly along with everyone else as you slowly grew.

When you’d started crawling, large blue eyes peering up at Rhys as you had giggled and cooed, legs and arms moving clumsily in tandem to your father, who was kneeling, arms open and beckoning you to come closer. Feyre had been sat down on the edge of the couch, Nyx, only four years old, sitting on her lap as she’d raked fingers through his dark curls.

“There’s my pretty girl,”

Rhys had murmured to you in a soft tone as you’d finally made your way into his arms, he’d picked you up and began gently giving you little kisses as your pudgy little hands grabbed at him, hooking onto his bottom lip and tugging.

Cassian’s hearty laughter could be heard from across the room as he walked in to find you pulling on every part of your father you could get your hands on. He had plopped down on the couch next to Feyre, leaning back slightly and settling as Nyx crawled into his lap.

Azriel had been there when you’d taken your first steps. When your tiny little legs had slowly, unsteadily begun moving, arms thrown out to balance as your fuzzy little wings had been stretched to the side to hopefully keep you from falling.

What had been the thing that had made you finally walk after all of your parents failed attempts to entice you into it?

A beetle.

It sounded ridiculous, and looking back on it, it was.

Nyx had originally brought it in, hoping to scare you and make you run away from it, with Feyre hot on his heels trying to make him put it back down.

Whether it had been the way its wings had flapped so quickly, or the shiny, rainbow iridescence of its shell that reminded you of the rainbows that formed over the Sidra after light rain, you’d been fascinated. Feyre had let out an ear-piercing squeak as soon as she’d seen you start walking, and towards a live bug no less.

Rhys was there in an instant, clearly wondering what had caused his mate such distress when he caught the sight of it and grinned larger than ever before, maybe. Nyx got closer to you, the bug still squirming in his hands, but before he could get it to the babbling baby, Azriel calmly stepped in and gently grabbed the shiny insect, releasing it out of an open window.

He remembered your first word, which, unsurprisingly, had been “mama”. He remembered your first day of school, where you had been shy and almost shed a few tears when separating from your parents.

And gods, he definitely remembered your first day of middle school, when you’d come home sniffling and his first instinct had been to murder whoever had made you feel such a way.

It had been happy tears, apparently, when a friend you’d lost contact with long ago after leaving your elementary school early had met back up with you, in the same grade and class.

High school had also been a nightmare, for the entire family because of your frequent mood swings, not to mention the never-ending drama and gossip surrounding the High Lord and Lady’s daughter and son. Nyx had been a Senior when you’d first gone in as a Freshmen.

Due to your generally quiet and reserved temperament, there was little dating from you to deal with, luckily, but Nyx had been a nightmare. The boy was a player, to say the least, not to mention how he made it his personal mission to annoy you to death anytime you were having sleepovers or hangouts with your closest friends.

“Get out…!”

You had half-yelled, half-whispered from inside your pillow fort, your friend quietly giggling beside you. It was midnight and Nyx still wouldn’t leave you alone. One hand swatted the blanket entrance to the side, and Nyx’s smirking face met yours as he then lay on the floor, chest down, legs playfully swinging.

“Don’t be shy, spill all the drama.”

He drawled, eyes dancing with amusement. Your friend giggled, hiding behind you, apparently finding your brother incredibly funny. Annoyingly funny.

“I’ll call Cassian.”

You threatened, giving Nyx a look. He simply raised a brow, smirk widening.

“You wouldn’t dare interrupt his beauty sleep, would you?”

You huffed, the knowledge that Cassian was asleep this early making you not want to wake him. You were always like that, worrying about others, and caring for them. Suddenly, an idea hit you, and a small smile curled on your lips, one that seemed to make Nyx nervous as his eyes widened.

“Don’t even-“

He got that far before you called out for Azriel, his shadows most likely carrying the yelled whispers out to him, and in a moment he was there, oddly quick for your call. He took one look at the pillow fort, the scent of you and your friend inside, and Nyx’s intrusion, and grabbed him, carrying him easily out of the room and nodding at your giggled thanks.

From then on, something seemed to shift between you and your shadowsinger.

The way he looked at you had changed, but it wasn’t overly obvious. Nothing had been added, it was still respectful as ever, even when he’d spied your prom dress, or your graduation dress, a beautiful mixture of light and airy but still tight in the right places, fabric cascading down your body in shades of rich purples, highlights of a gentle yellow reflecting the glow of the stars amidst a dark skylight.

That dress had nearly brought him to his knees. It had been one of the many that Rhysand’s mother had made before her death.

Still, he’d never let his gaze linger, never had a hint of anything darker or longing in his hazel eyes, but something had changed. The familial connection you had with him seemed to have fallen more into that of a friend, or almost an authority figure, but not quite. What it was, you couldn’t ever figure out.

However, the Cauldron had its own plans, ones that nobody in the family could’ve expected.

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

It had been the night of Starfall, coincidentally only a few days after your eighteenth birthday. Rhys always liked to tease you, saying if you’d only waited a few more days then you could’ve shared your special day with one of the most special days of the year in Night Court.

Azriel had taken extra time to get ready for tonight, dressing himself comfortably, but also regally. It wasn’t too much, and it wasn’t too little. He liked teetering on the balance between the two, it often let him blend into the background while his brothers enjoyed their mates.

When he arrived, he’d first seen Nyx slip off into a dance with another woman of Night Court, not too uncommon for the male at these parties.

Nesta danced with Cassian, playfully teasing him about something as he laughed and retorted, all the while Feyre and Rhys slowly danced between sipping on glasses of wine, content to bask in this moment together.

Family dances weren’t uncommon, which was why you didn’t think much of it when Azriel offered you his hand for a dance. It was almost a habit at this point, as you two ended up lumped together now since everyone else seemed to have found their happy ending.

“If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but leave her alone.”

Rhysand had told him. And he had left Elain alone.

Now, weeks, months, and years later, Elain was happy with Lucien, basking in his warmth and domesticity as they both shared a home in Day Court, Lucien now the proclaimed heir of Helion after his heritage was discovered and revealed.

Mor was still “single”, but Azriel knew better, with the way she still gave eyes to that one waitress at Rita’s who always touched and looked at her longer than necessary. That was Mor’s decision on whether to reveal it to the family or not, and he understood it.

Nyx was still…hopping from female to female, happy with the cheap thrills the Night Court ladies could give him. According to his shadows, the boy had recently caught the eyes of a specific girl, his usual pattern of getting bored and moving on crumbling in the face of her.

However, it was just you and Azriel, surrounded by mated couples and lovers as he gently pulled you closer to him, hands intertwining with his with a practiced ease, while you both began a slow, gentle dance to the rhythm of the music. Your eyes were on the stars, the ones which your father had always told you were spirits migrating, or traveling on this day in particular, for whatever reason.

His eyes were on you, watching as your deep blue eyes, freckled with what looked like stars amidst an aurora haze observed the night sky. No matter how many times you saw it, it always seemed to amaze you. Something he was a bit jealous of.

Your black hair, midnight as your father’s, fell in waves against your tanned skin, a fair mixture between your mother and father. The dark wings, courtesy of your father, were tucked neatly in on your back, as they usually were during events like these, though they slowly relaxed as you got lost in the music and cool atmosphere of this night.

It was then that it had happened.

You had turned to look at him, blue eyes full of the quiet appreciation and confidence that mirrored his own in some ways, meeting his dark hazel ones, that sparks seemed to fly in both of your veins.

His eyes widened, something you had seldom seen before. The shadows around him tightened, agitated, before going to your side and some wrapping around you, their whispered touches cold against your warm skin.

Both of your feet faltered, hands that were intertwined loosening, but staying together. It was only the two of you in that moment, everything else seemed to be drowned out by the roaring in your ears.

That was what he had been to you, never an uncle like Cassian, never a full authority figure, not a friend, but your mate.

The realization of what had just happened hit like a brick. You and Azriel were mates. It had taken your father almost five centuries to find his mate, the same for Cassian, and you were lucky enough to find him this early in life. You mentally wrapped tender hands around the golden thread in your chest, tying you both together, and very hesitantly pulled on it.

Based on the way he jerked and twitched, before pulling on his end, making you do the same thing, colliding with his chest with a small ‘oomph’, confirmed everything for the both of you.

He hesitantly wrapped his arms around you, watching painfully close for any tiny sign of fear, pain, anger…, anything he didn’t want to cause. You could only wrap your arms around him in return, too enamored with the male in front of you to care about the two of you embracing like lovers at Starfall, for all to see.

They could see, you didn’t mind.

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

From the moment the bond had snapped, and overwhelming heat and affection had flooded his being, Azriel knew he was fucked.

Wrapping his arms around you felt like the best thing he’d ever experienced, filling that empty, hollow space inside of him. It felt as if you were melting into him, slowly filling every hole, sealing every crack and crevice, except for the one thing left; accepting it.

He would die before putting pressure on you. You would accept it when you were ready. Even then, as much as he hated the thought of Rhys throwing around his status again, he knew he had to do this carefully or he could very well be banned from seeing you until you were deemed ‘ready’.

Even now Rhys was watching, eyes narrowing in what looked like curiosity as he watched the scene before him, his daughter and shadowsinger, both reserved, slightly shy people, openly embracing and seeming utterly lost in each other. If that hadn’t given it away, then the tears that seemed to well up in Azriel’s eyes, and the ones already running down your cheeks, did.

He murmured something quietly to Feyre, slipping off with an apologetic glance as he walked quickly over to you, trying to gently pull you into his arms. That always worked. To his surprise, you clung to Azriel like he was a lifeline, turning to him, crying silently as you sniffled.

His first urge was to slaughter Azriel for whatever he’d done to upset you, but he knew that wasn’t reasonable.

“What’s-?”

He began to ask, before meeting Azriel’s gaze. His eyes were welled with what looked like tears, pure desperation and pleading so strong in his eyes, something he hadn’t seen before from his Spymaster.

“We’re mates.”

The two words were almost a whisper, but as soon as he heard it, his heart nearly stopped. From the way you clung to Azriel, he could tell that you probably wouldn’t reject the bond whatsoever, and the way Azriel held you, his touch desperate but also so loving and gentle, he knew that it would be hopeless to try and separate you two.

His hand went to rub the bridge of his nose for a moment, before his eyes went to you again, then glancing up at Azriel, a silent question in his gaze.

‘Can you control yourself around her?’

Azriel seemed almost relieved at that, nodding almost imperceptibly. He had amazing control over himself, Rhys knew that about him, but with a mate, and his daughter at that? He was anxious, which wasn’t common for the High Lord. With a sigh, he spoke again.

“Have fun, but don’t rush anything. We can talk through this in the morning.”

Your father said, another sharp glance at Azriel, before he returned to Feyre’s side, no doubt informing her on what had happened. His violet eyes burned into the two of you all night as you danced and laughed and Azriel even managed to get you to take a little sip of wine, at which you deemed it “gross” and poured it out.

The night didn’t last nearly long enough, as Azriel finally escorted you back to your room, embracing you one last time in a way that made him feel complete, before leaning down and murmuring into your ear.

“Sleep well. We have plenty to do tomorrow.”

The tips of your ears turned pink at the implication, but he was gone before you could even get a word in. You reluctantly crawled into bed, trying to get at least a wink of sleep in, and barely succeeding.

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

The next morning was a bit awkward, not to mention nerve-wracking.

Your parents looked worried, and your father seemed a bit stern, unusual for him this early in the morning. Azriel was already seated on the couch, scarred fingers twitching as they drummed against his thigh when you walked in, sitting right next to him.

His wing curled instinctively around you, with him not giving a damn about what Rhys or Feyre thought of it.

With a heavy sigh, Rhys turned to face you, meeting your gaze.

“Do you want to-”

“Yes.”

You replied, not an inch of hesitation or uncertainty in your usually quiet tone. Gods, you wanted to accept the bond, all you needed was for your parents to give their permission, and hopefully approve of it.

Rhys’ eyes narrowed, studying you and Azriel, before softening. His little girl was all grown up, and it was unfair to try and pull rank or any other bullshit to keep her from her mate, or to keep Azriel from his equal.

“You can use the cabin, I’ll…be checking on you.”

He said, voice rough with emotion. Azriel nodded, a silent thanks before his hands gently pulled you onto his lap. In a swirl of darkness and shadows, you were both sitting on the couch of the cabin in Illyria, your mother’s paintings still bright and fresh in the warm cabin.

“You know what to do, right?”

He asked, the words quiet but affectionate.

You gave a little nod. Offer him food. That was pretty much it.

“I’ll just go get an apple or something. Also, could you start the fire? It’s freezing.”

He chuckled quietly, the sound rich and deep, before pressing a kiss to your forehead and reluctantly getting up to go light the wood in the fireplace.

You walked over into the kitchen, pulling a fresh apple from what looked to be a fruit bowl, before eagerly chopping it up into pieces with a knife. You could hear the fire crackling before you saw it, walking back in to meet Azriel in the living room where he stood patiently.

You offered him a slice of the apple, already chewing your own, and he smiled softly, accepting it with a quiet,

“Thank you.”

Before popping it into his mouth, chewing slowly, and savoring it while maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. You felt the bond split open, all sorts of feelings and thoughts both coming from your mind and coming from his, flooding your brain.

You didn’t try to filter your thoughts, no matter how embarrassing they got. He got to have all of you. He seemed to feel the same way.

It was so quick that you barely even noticed him moving, but in a matter of moments and the swirling of shadows, you were both on the bed in a room, his lips moving eagerly against yours as his body slotted into place above you and between your legs. His tongue nudged at your lips, before slipping inside your mouth and dancing with yours, the lingering taste of the apple still there.

Your hips began slowly grinding against his clothes cock, already feeling it through his pants and how it throbbed. You could’ve sworn you even felt a pulse.

He let out a guttural groan at that, only pulling away from your mouth to breathe, taking in hot, heavy pants that had your pussy drooling. Whether he felt it through the bond or smelled your arousal, you could see his eyes widen and nostrils flare, before his lips quirked up at the corners.

“Az, please-“

You whined, already needing more of him. You needed more than friction, you needed touching and contact. He only nodded and began pulling your dress off, surprisingly carefully, his limbs trembling with restraint.

“I know, sweet girl.”

His shirt and pants were soon to go, and his boxers were then tossed to the floor. Your eyes widened as you saw his cock, long and thick as it was, the tip was an angry red and leaking, as soon as it was released it slapped against his stomach. He caught you staring, seeing the slight fear and hesitation in your gaze.

“Are you sure that’s going to..fit?”

You asked, voice more timid and meek than you wanted it to be. Your panties joined the pile of clothes on the floor while his hands began rubbing your tender breasts, kneading them and rubbing your pert nipples between his thumb and finger.

He chuckled lowly at your question.

“It will, I promise. I’m going to use my fingers first to stretch you a bit if that's alright?”

He asked, one finger brushing gently through your folds as he bit his tongue, trying to keep groaning at how wet you already were. Barely any stimulation and you were already writhing under him. So sensitive it was adorable. As much as he wanted to take his time and drag this out, to make you beg and plead until you were a mess, he didn’t have the patience, not now.

You nodded.

“Please.”

The word slipped from between your lips before you could even think, already whimpering as one finger gently began slipping into you. He marveled at how tight you were, thoughts already wandering as his fingers began curling, thumb massaging your clit. As you moaned and cried out, legs already trembling and trying to close, he held them open, settling between them as another finger was scissored into your cunt.

A white, hot heat had begun building in your body before you could begin to process what was happening, moans spilling from your lips like water flowing from a waterfall. More fingers slipped in, his thumb still running circles with just the right amount of pleasure on your clit.

It was too much.

“Az- Az, please, I’m gonna-“

And then it felt like everything exploded.

He watched you fall apart around his fingers, the three of them working in tandem, curling against that spongy spit in your walls as his thumb worked your clit sinfully good. His cock was aching as he tried rubbing it against your leg for at least some friction, which didn’t succeed.

“It’s okay, you’re alright, you’re doing perfect for me, okay?”

He murmured to you, slowly watching as you came down from your high, thighs trembling, tears already drying. Your body wanted more. The frenzy demanded more.

One of your hands wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, at which he curiously watched. You whined, glancing at his cock and gesturing to it.

“Words, honey. What do you want?”

He asked gently, looking down at you with enough affectionate lust to make you melt on sight as you opened your mouth to speak.

“Your cock. Want it inside.”

You mumbled, cheeks flushed red as you sniffled, giving him a pleading gaze he couldn’t do anything but give in to as he leaned forward, hovering just above your body, his arms braced on his elbows on either side of your head after he’d lined himself up with your entrance.

“Just take a deep breath for me and relax, sweet girl.”

He spoke softly to you, taking a deep breath of his own before nudging the tip in, slowly letting inch after inch go in, watching your expression for any hint of pain and slowing down at any sign of it.

Your face was contorted in a mixture of pain and pleasure, hips bucking up as you gasped at him being pushed deeper, his raw groaning an easy answer to it.

“Cauldron, you’re big.”

You whined against the skin of his chest, nose buried in the nook of his shoulder. He let out a strained laugh, not at you, but at your words.

“I take great pride in it.”

He teased back, before letting out a sigh of relief as he bottomed out.

“Need a minute, hold on-“

You said, breathless as you tried to adjust to the feeling of Azriel splitting you open. You’d never felt anything this big in you before, only having the liberty of your fingers or occasionally a toy doing the trick. He was nestled so deep that it felt like he could easily rearrange your organs if he wanted to.

“Tell me when,”

He managed to say back, every muscle in his sculpted body taught as he held back, that was, until, you began rocking your hips into his after a few minutes longer. His eyes almost rolled back in his head as he, Azriel, Spymaster of Night Court, let out the sluttiest whimper you’d ever heard as he began slowly pumping in and out.

“I’m not going to last,”

He rasped, and after a few minutes he was already about to fall apart completely, the feeling of your- his mate’s tight heat squeezing his cock like a vice grip, had him so, so close already. You managed a loose, breathy laugh.

“Me neither,”

You got out, the pleasure from earlier already building again into a giant wave, your sensitivity now threatening to overtake you as the world turned into a blur of movement, colors, and shadows. Whether by his command or their own free will, you felt the cold tendrils wind around your clit, circling and rubbing while others gave attention to your pert nipples.

What was really your undoing was when some began playing with your wings, stroking right over the insanely sensitive spot that had you arching and writhing beneath Azriel, moans and cries and sobs of pleasure echoing through the room.

As soon as your pussy fluttered around him and clenched, it fully succeeded in milking him of his cum as he came in thick spurts, bucking his hips wildly into you with a groan. It was only after that, that he settled ever so gently on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight.

The sounds of panting were the only ones for a few minutes before your bodes began screaming for more, more, more…

“Again.”

Part 2

[soullumii]

stranded | joel miller x f!reader

pairing: joel miller x afab!fem!reader

summary: you get stranded in the middle of a blizzard. joel comes to your rescue. you share a bed for warmth. things escalate from there...

warnings/tags: 18+ content, MDNI!, smutttttt yurrrr (vaginal fingering, unprotected piv sex, dubious consent, lil bit of somnophilia, joel is packinggg), no outbreak!joel, modern au, implied age gap, soft!joel, pet names (peach, baby, darlin', sweet girl, sweetheart), lil bit of joel being jelly, cuddling to keep the cold at bay, fluff, NO USE OF Y/N

word count: 7.6k (idk what the fuck happened)

“Damn it!” 

You press down hard on the gas pedal, grimacing when your engine revs but the car doesn’t move an inch.

Your tires skid uselessly over the snow and your headlights reflect into a white wall of nothing—the snowfall so thick you can’t see anything in front of or around you, as if you’re trapped in a snow globe. The road is practically gone from existence.

The only thing you can hear is the wind whistling and the staticky sound of Carrie Underwood’s ‘Jesus Take the Wheel’ going in and out on the radio.

Yeah, you wish he would right about now. 

“Fuuuck,” you whine, eyes stinging with unshed tears. You hit your wheel in frustration, dropping your forehead onto the horn. It honks pityingly. 

Of course, the one time you were actually going out, you had forgotten to check the weather. 

You’re probably going to die out here on this back road through the woods. There’s no one around, not that you can tell, and you’re low on gas. You were going to fill up once you got out of the woods and back into civilization, but the blizzard had other plans.

Your stomach rumbles, crying out for the dinner you had skipped in hopes of having a hearty, post-sex meal with the hook-up you are—or were—on the way to see. Though, that’s certainly not happening, and the snacks you usually had stuffed into the glovebox are gone, your sister having stolen them last week after you dropped her off at school.

(Darn that growing goober!) 

You don’t have anything that might prove useful in this situation besides the long, slim heels on your pumps (which could be used in defense), and the thin peacoat wrapped around your shoulders. You check your phone to see if you can call a towing company, but of course, it has zero bars. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” you whimper, pressing the heel of your palm to your watering eyes. 

“It’s gonna be fine,” you say to yourself, picking your head up and rubbing away the tears in your eyes. You take deep breaths and put the car into park. “You’ll be fine.”

The sudden sound of a knock on your window startles you so bad you yelp, jumping in place as ice cold terror rises up your spine. 

You can hardly see who had knocked, only their gray silhouette in the white blizzard.

The stranger knocks again. 

“You alright in there?” The shadow asks, a hint of a Texan accent curling their vowels. Shit. It’s a man. 

You slowly grab your shoe from your foot, holding it so the heel faces the window, and snow blows into your face as you carefully roll it down an inch or two for precaution, because who knows if it’s a fucking cannibal-axe-murderer who preys on unsuspecting women stranded in the snow. Maybe he does this every year—maybe this is his prime harvesting place and time. 

Your eyes are wide as you peer through the opening warily, heel at the ready. 

He’s close enough now that you can make out a prominent scowl, hard brown eyes, salt and pepper hair…

…wait a minute. You’d recognize that glower anywhere.

“Joel?”

Your lungs suddenly remember how to work again, and you inhale on a shaky breath. The hand holding your shoe drops to your thigh in relief.

His brown eyes narrow. “Peach…? The hell are you doin’ out here?” He asks, and Jesus you forgot about that stupid nickname he gave you. It sends butterflies loose in your stomach. “It’s a goddamn blizzard.” 

You scowl in exasperation, though, at his obvious observation. “Yeah, I think I know that, Joel. What are you doing here?”

“I heard a honk, figured someone needed help.” He looks you up and down, his gaze lingering on the circles of mascara around your eyes. “Guess I’m right.”

You straighten in your seat, the gratitude you feel at his presence is overshadowed by the need to look self sufficient and capable, because you are. You’re a grown ass woman! So…

“I don’t need your help,” you huff.

He arches a brow. “Really.” It’s not a question.

You glower. “Maybe.”

Joel leans an arm on the frame of your car, and taps your window once more. “C’mon. Let’s go.” 

God, this is so embarrassing!

“Fine.” You roll up the window and turn off the car. Joel tugs the car door open as far as it can go and offers a gloved hand to help you out. You wobble a bit when you step out in your heels, grateful that Joel is there to steady you. Though, the feeling sours a bit when he huffs in disbelief at your shoes. 

You send him a glare, “I had plans for tonight, okay?”

“In the middle of a blizzard?” He deadpans.

“It wasn’t that bad when I first started driving.”

“Riiiight,” he drawls, “Well, I’m sorry to say, peach, but you ain’t driving in this mess anymore. You can stay with me tonight.” He says, closing the car door behind you. 

Stay? With him? 

“Joel, I couldn’t bother you with—“

“I wouldn’t offer if it was a bother.”

Joel’s as stubborn as a bull, more so than Ellie. And she is stubborn. You don’t argue, because it’s fruitless to argue with a brick wall like him. And, faced with freezing to death out here or staying in a well-insulated building, choosing the latter is obviously the right thing to do.

“Okay,” you relent and point to your trunk. “I have a bag back there.”

He raises a brow. “Heels and a bag…What kind of plans were we talkin’ about here?”

A hook up, Joel, you mentally drawl. Because…that’s exactly why you were out. 

Like hell you’ll tell Joel that, though, he’d disapprove. He’s always been the protective type. You’ve known him since your junior year in college, after your families practically merged. But you’ve never seen Joel as another dad. He’s always been…something else to you.

“A trip to Nunya.” You supply instead of the truth, crossing your arms over your chest to try and conserve some heat. 

“Nunya?” Joel’s brows furrow. 

“Yeah. Nunya business, Joel.” You give him a sardonic smile. 

He shakes his head and sends you a look you’re quite familiar with, the one that makes you feel inches smaller. And ten degrees hotter. 

Joel sighs in exasperation and wordlessly wrenches the trunk open. He slings your bag over his shoulder as if it weighs nothing.

(It weighs a lot. You’d know, you shoved five different erotica books in there, just in case your date failed to make you orgasm.)

(Though thinking about Joel probably would’ve been enough.) 

You lock your vehicle with a bemused glance. “What are we gonna do about my car?” 

“I’ll tow it out tomorrow,” Joel says. “Roads are a fuckin’ mess right now.”

You trudge behind Joel to his quaint cottage sleeping cozily between tall pine trees and chubby evergreens. The porch light is on, and the windows glow a comforting orange. Puffs of smoke drift up from the chimney. It looks warm and inviting, like straight out of a Christmas movie. 

You’re impressed at how close you managed to strand yourself to his house. Maybe Jesus really did take the wheel. 

Joel kicks the snow off his boots on his front porch, then opens the door, gesturing for you to enter first. 

When you breach the doorway with Joel at your heels, warmth settles over your cold-bitten cheeks along with an alluring aroma of meat and tomato and spices that hits you in a wave. You’ve never seen Joel cook anything other than Chef Boyardee Beefaroni, or burgers on Tommy’s rusting grill before, so this is certainly a surprise. It could be Sarah or Ellie’s cooking, but last time you checked, Sarah could cook eggs and Ellie could cook, well, nothing.

“So did you hire a personal chef to make whatever smells so good?”

He sets your bag down in the foyer with a grunt and shrugs out of his coat. “I made it.”

You can’t help the disbelieving laugh that bursts out of you, and the slightly offended look on Joel’s face only makes it harder to stop. You cover your mouth with your hand, but you’re absolutely positive he can see the mirth lighting in your eyes.

Though he’s offended, there’s a twitch to his lip, as if he’s trying not to laugh. “I’m perfectly capable of cooking.”

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry,” you try to stamp down your giggles. “Yes, you’re capable but… is it edible?”

Your stomach decides in that moment to start rumbling, and he smirks.

“Guess you’ll have to find out.”

You take your coat off and follow Joel towards the kitchen. As you follow, you take in his aggressively Texan decor and furniture. Paintings of cowboys and horses and mountains are hung artfully on cozy, beige walls. The Eagles’ discography drifts merrily in the air from an old record player. There’s a guitar stationed in practically every corner. It’s all so very Joel, though the random space ornamentals and butterfly drawings sprinkled about are so very Ellie and Sarah. It makes you smile. 

“Where are the girls?” You ask, because usually those little stinkers would be stationed at the dining room table, bickering over the answer to a ridiculously difficult math problem.

“At Dina’s,” he answers, taking off his gloves and dropping them on the table. “They wanted to play in the snow.”

Oh. So you’re here alone with him. Anxiety prickles at the edges of your mind, sinking in your stomach.

“I guess I was the only one that didn’t know about the blizzard, then.” 

“You must be livin’ under a rock to not know about it.”

You grumble in protest, but your grievances disintegrate on your tongue as you enter the kitchen and near the simmering pot. You breathe in the aroma, the smell so powerful it's almost like you’re actually tasting it. 

You look over your shoulder at him. “Is this chili?”

He nods. “Want some?”

“Absolutely.”

He comes up beside you to open a cabinet. “Go ‘head make yourself comfortable on the couch. I’ll bring it out to you.” Your mouth dries at the sliver of skin that peeks out beneath his flannel as he reaches up.

You force yourself to turn around. “Wow. Such a gentleman, didn’t realize you were capable,” you say, your saccharine sweet tone doing well to mask how flustered you feel. You can breathe easier the second you exit the kitchen and enter the living room. 

His voice follows you. “A simple ‘thank you’ ‘stead'a this attitude would do you some good, y'know?"

"I know," you sing-song, grinning as you settle yourself down onto his couch, grabbing a blanket from a basket on the way. A fire crackles in the hearth and you study the flames with fascination as warmth spreads across your skin. You tug the blanket around you, pulling it up to your chin. 

Joel emerges a minute later and your gaze darts from the fire to the bowl he holds out to you. “Here.”

“Thank you, Joel,” you say emphatically, accepting the bowl and cradling it in your hands. 

He smiles, “There we go. Guess you do have some manners.”

You give him a half-bow. Joel just smiles in that familiar way, like you’re just so ridiculous he can’t believe it. It makes your stomach curl giddily. 

Having rolled up the sleeves of his flannel to his elbows, Joel’s forearms are on display, muscles flexing as he tosses another log into the hearth, and you drop your gaze to your chili, as to not get caught staring. He sits down in the armchair adjacent to you with his own bowl.

You blow on the steaming chili before taking a bite, an involuntary moan releasing from you the moment it hits your tongue—paprika, peppers, tomato, cumin. It warms your stomach pleasantly. Who knew Joel could cook so well?

“This is so good,” you mumble around your bite. 

He swallows his own chili down, pupils large as he watches you. “Edible enough for ya?”

You nod enthusiastically, “I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”

“Mmhmm,” he hums, unconvinced, but he’s smiling at you again, and you can’t help but return it. 

Comfortable silence lapses between the both of you as you eat your meals. Joel finishes first, of course, setting his bowl on the coffee table and leaning into his chair with a satisfied groan. He throws an arm over the back, spreading his legs. You watch him while he watches the fire, heat licking through you.

Eventually, after you slow down, you speak again.

“Thank you, Joel, seriously, for letting me stay.”

His eyes find yours and he nods. “‘Course, peach. Wouldn’t’ve let you freeze out there.” 

You nod and glance around, taking in his cabin. A large, stone fireplace is set in the wall, a tree trunk coffee table stationed in the center of the living room, some handmade wood carvings of horses and other animals scattered about. There’s a drawing of himself sitting on the mantel, “To: Joel, From: Ellie” signed at the bottom. Your heart swells. 

“It’s been awhile since I’ve been here,” you remark.

“I know,” Joel says. “You should come around more often. The girls miss you.”

Your smile turns shy and you feel a spike of bravery. “What about you? Do you miss me?” 

He takes a moment to answer, a veiny hand coming up to rub at his beard as he leans on the arm of the chair. Onyx eyes drag down your figure. “‘Course I do, darlin’” 

Heat pools hot and thick between your thighs at that look, and you’re about to press him about how much he really misses you when a buzzing in your pocket captures your attention. Your phone. Guess you have some bars now. 

marcus: where r u?

Oh right, the hookup!

you: blizzard blocked the roads. won’t make it tonight.

marcus: ok. 

You scoff at the lack of depth in his response. Not even a “stay safe out there”? Jesus. You settle into the couch with a frustrated sigh, head thumping against the cushions, eyes falling shut as exhaustion creeps into you. 

Boys always thinking with their dicks. Why do you even bother?

“What’s that about?” Joel asks. You peek an eye open at him. Firelight dances across his tan skin. He gestures to your phone. “That gotta do with the real reason for your trip tonight?” 

You rub your temple, “Yeah.”

He hums. "...Listen, I know it's none of my business but—“ 

"It was a hookup, Joel," you interrupt, already knowing where he was going with that. He tends to do that, beat around the bush so much until you’re desperate to just say it. More desperate than he was to know it. You’d rather just skip that whole process. 

"Oh,” his brows furrow.

"Yeah," you repeat dumbly, fiddling with the blanket.

"There, uh, ain't no shame in that, darlin'."

You quirk a skeptical brow, "I know."

"Alright," he mumbles, avoiding eye contact with you. Awkwardness settles between you.

"Things are just a bit dry," you supply, though you have no idea why you're still talking, or why you described yourself and the state of your love-life like that because Joel doesn't need to know that. Nobody needs to know that

But it captures his attention, because he's looking at you again, though this time annoyance is written on his features, along with something else you can’t name, his eyes practically black. Damnit, you knew he’d disapprove, even if he claims there’s no shame in it.

“And you went to some random boy for that?"

You straighten on the couch. "Who else am I supposed to go to, Joel? You?” Sarcasm drips from your words. 

What the hell is he implying?

His gaze jumps to the fire, the muscles in his jaw clenching, his fingers flexing on the arm of his chair. "Never mind I said anythin'."

Your arms cross defensively over your chest. "I don't need your judgment, Joel.”

"I ain't judgin'."

"Sure sounds like it."

He stands abruptly, running a hand through his peppered locks. "I'm not, I just—listen, it's gettin' late. You should sleep. I didn’t have time to get the girls’ room ready, do you want my bed?”

You shake your head, "Couch is perfectly fine, Joel. Thanks."

“You sure?”

“Yes, Joel. I’m a grown woman who can handle her decisions.” 

"I know that.” Frustration laces his words. He sighs, hand coming up to rest on his belt. “Just... let me know if you need anythin'."

“You got it.”

He turns the living room light off on the way to his bedroom down the hall. You don’t watch him leave. 

Once he's gone, you change into your pajamas and settle yourself on the couch beneath a blanket or two. The crackling of the fire and the howling wind outside lulls you to sleep faster than you expect. 

-----

“Fuck.”

The aggressive shivers that wrack your body are what wake you up in the middle of the night. 

Your blanket is wrapped tightly around you, but it’s a thin, furry thing. Nothing like the down comforter you have at home. The fire has also gone out in the hearth, low flames flickering in the ash.

You pull the blanket up to your chin, curling in on yourself as the cold permeates your skin. 

Aside from the chattering of your teeth and the squall outside, it’s eerily silent in the house. You realize, now, that the whooshes from the heating system you had grown accustomed to before are gone

Shit.

You reach for the lamp on the side table, pulling down on the chain. It doesn’t turn on.

“Shit.” 

You sit up, blanket wrapped around your waist. The power is out. The snow storm must’ve knocked out a power line. It’s too cold to stay out here with only your thin blanket and the clothes on your back. And Joel had said…

Let me know if you need anythin’.

You really don’t want to bother him, but the goose flesh rippling across your skin and the pathetic way your lips are quivering, along with the shudders that wrack your body as it attempts to maintain homeostasis are not something you can just sleep through.

You tightly wrap your blanket around your shoulders and tiptoe down the hall. You can see a warm light from Joel’s bedroom, the flicker of a flame on the cream walls.

You slowly push the door open but hesitate at the sight of Joel buried comfortably beneath his comforter. You don’t want to wake him… but his room is awfully toasty from the fire crackling away in his own hearth. And his bed looks absolutely heavenly. 

You steel yourself and pad to the side he sleeps on. 

“Joel?” You whisper. He doesn’t respond.

You lean over to gently push his shoulder. “Joel.”

“Mm—“ His brows furrow, and he scrunches further into the blankets, reminiscent of a cat curling its paws over its head when woken up.

You push his shoulder again, a bit harder this time. “Joel. Wake up.”

He swats at the air, as if your hand is a fly buzzing around his ear. “‘M awake,” he mumbles against the pillow. 

“Joel—the power went out. I’m freezing.”

He’s silent for a moment, eyes still shut. He’s no doubt rolling the words around in his head, trying to make sense of them through a sleepy haze.  

Then, when he does, he wordlessly scoots back and reaches for the comforter. He lifts it, offering the space next to him to you.

“C’mere.” 

You splutter, taken off guard by the invitation. “What? Joel—“

“‘M not askin’, peach. C’mere.” The last word leaves his lips like a command, and you straighten reflexively, apprehension holding your limbs hostage as want curls dangerously low in your abdomen at his tone of voice. That should be enough warning to not climb into bed with him.

You debate telling him to get his ass up and give you another blanket along with a couple more logs in the hearth so you can avoid any kind of proximity between you (lest you feel those capital-f Feelings), but you can practically feel the heat radiating from the bed and his body beckoning you in. 

Oh fuck it.

You let loose a shaky breath and hesitantly slip beneath the covers, facing away from him. You stay glued to the edge of the bed, careful not to let any part of you touch him. Your legs curl into your chest for extra measure. Immediately, it’s so much better. So warm. So comfortable.

And it smells like Joel.

You inhale the earthy and spicy scent of him that lingers on the linen as your head sinks into the soft pillow, but your inhale chokes off as Joel’s strong arm snakes around your waist beneath the comforter, his large hand burning like a brand when it settles hot over your stomach.

He pulls you into him, the sheets swishing as he tucks you into his body. Your back slots against his warm, broad naked chest. His bare legs intertwine with yours, his pelvis almost flush against your ass, only covered by a thin pair of briefs. 

Holy shit. 

You can feel everything. 

“Joel?” You question, voice quivering at the sudden closeness. “What are you doing?”

“Keepin’ you warm,” he mumbles against the nape of your neck. 

You do feel warmer, though it might not be entirely because he’s holding you, but rather because of how he’s holding you. He’s curled around you, like a koala around a tree, thighs bracketing yours. 

You can feel his beard scraping at the nape of your neck, breaths puffing against your feverish skin. 

His thumb is rubbing softly along the pudge of your tummy, palm branding your skin, his fingers dipping innocently beneath the hem of your shorts. 

You can barely breathe, or even think, heartbeat stuttering as arousal pools liquid hot and heavy between your legs. Every unknowing twitch from Joel’s fingers makes it worse. Every touch of his calloused fingertips against your skin is pure agony. Every brush of your ass against his pelvis has you throbbing. You stare wide-eyed into the darkness, gaze roaming the pitch black, as if something out there could make you forget about the ever-growing desire you feel for Joel. 

You can’t sleep like this.

It seems like Joel can though, appearing to already be deep in slumber. He hasn’t moved in a few minutes, his exhales even and slow against you. 

You try to ignore the wetness between your legs, ignore the instinctual urge to roll your hips back against him. You should just go to sleep. But this ache you feel, pounding and deep and relentless…You have to do something about it, even with Joel holding you close.

He won’t mind…right?

But how are you supposed to touch yourself with Joel’s hand in the way? 

You could just move it. That’s the right thing to do, but it feels too good, so hot and heavy on you that you just don’t want to, and as a result, an idea so absolutely fucked worms its way into your mind, lust and desperation destroying any last semblance of rational thought. You could…

No. No. You can’t do that. He’s a human fucking being, not a hand shaped vibrator. 

But… you really want to, and he’s asleep so…he won’t even know…right?

You make up your mind and slowly curl your fingers around Joel’s deadweight palm, biting your lip in concentration and shame as you carefully urge his hand further into your shorts. After each nudge of his palm, you wait to see if Joel gives you any sign of him being awake. But he’s dead asleep. After a moment, you keep going. 

This is so fucked, but you can’t bring yourself to care when you finally feel his thick fingers brush over your clothed folds.

“Shit,” you whisper, breathlessly, holding back a whimper. You manipulate his hand so that his palm is resting large and warm over your aching clit, while his index and middle finger are placed heavily above your heat. 

And then, you really say fuck you to your morals. 

You give an experimental thrust of your hips into his palm, shuddering at the contact against your clit. Then you wait to see if Joel reacts, your head tilting a bit to look over your shoulder. But Joel hasn’t moved, hasn’t said a word. Good.

Confident he won’t wake, you rock your hips again and again, holding onto his hand with your own, pressing it down with each thrust of your hips to get that sweet contact. The heel of his palm bumps your aching clit with each thrust, and you bite back moans and whimpers well enough, but you can’t hide the deepening of your breaths as you climb closer and closer to your climax.

Everything else fades away as you just focus on that one goal. On crawling over the edge. You hardly feel the growing smirk pressed to the back of your neck, or the way Joel’s cock is now hard against your ass as you grind against his palm.

“F-fuck,” you huff, eyes tightly shut as you ground yourself in his presence behind you, the beat of his heart thudding against your spine, the rise and fall of his chest, the light, unconscious brush of his lips on your neck. Closure is on the horizon as you imagine him lifting up on his arm and leaning over to actually get you off, his teeth biting down on your shoulder as he thrusts his fingers into your aching cunt. 

“Joel—“ you quietly moan. 

The moment his name slips from your lips, his hand suddenly pulls back, and you let out a frustrated groan (he can’t do that!), which quickly turns into a squeak of mortification (oh yes, he absolutely can!).

Because Joel is awake. 

He. Is. Awake.

And he knows what you were doing, his chest rumbling against your spine as he—is he fucking laughing at you?

“Needy girl, aren’t you, peach?”

Mortification ignites in your cheeks, nausea pooling in your stomach. “Joel, oh my god, I’m so sorry—“

His hand gravitates to your thigh, curling around it. He pulls it up, inserting his knee in between your legs and he griiiinds it into your clothed cunt. Your desperate apology is cut off by a reflexive wanton moan, your back arching as pleasure reverberates inside you.

“‘S okay, baby, I understand. So fuckin’ desperate you had to use me while I was sleepin’, huh? Didn’t get what you wanted earlier so now you’re searchin’ for somethin’ else, hm?”

His large hand finds your waist again, sliding down your stomach to inch beneath both your shorts and your panties now. You gasp as his fingertips find your clit easily.

“I’m just a ‘lil offended I wasn’t your first choice,” he chides, fingers slipping through your soaking folds. “But I like this much better than you findin’ some boy to get you off. You need’a be fucked by a man, darlin’. Ain’t that right?” 

His words send heat straight to your core, thighs clenching around his knee as he ruts it against you while simultaneously stimulating your clit with his fingers.

“Yes, Joel,” you moan. “Need you.” 

His teeth scrape against your throat when he growls, “Goddamn right you do.”

You can’t believe this is happening.

Joel slides his hand further into your panties, his middle finger curling in to sink into your soaked cunt. You choke on a gasp. 

“Who’s the guy?” He asks, randomly, while his finger rocks into you.

You can’t think as Joel inserts his ring finger alongside the other, stretching you so deliciously. “W-what?”

“The boy you were gonna see tonight. Who is he?” 

Who was it? Mark? Matt? And why does he care? You don’t know, you don’t care, only thoughts of Joel Joel Joel consume your waking being. 

“I—I don’t know, Joel. Please, oh my god.” 

He hums pityingly. “Poor thing can't even remember his name.” His other hand comes up to slide through your hair, gripping the locks at the nape of your neck. He tugs, and you melt. “I’ll make sure you don’t forget mine.” 

He doesn’t need to worry about that.

Joel moves his thumb to circle your clit as he thrusts his thick, long fingers up and into you, curling them to hit that spot that has your heartbeat dropping between your thighs, desperate and loud and begging for release. 

“Hhhoh— Joel!” 

“Tha’s right, baby. So goddamn wet. You’ve been dealin’ with this for awhile now, huh?”

You nod into the pillow on a broken moan as his fingers withdraw and sink into you at a steady pace, his thumb circling and circling and circling.

“Words, baby.”

You cry out, hands gripping the pillow. “Yes, yes. Joel. Been wanting this f’so long.”

“Should’a come to me first. Would’a helped you out a long time ago,” he drawls.

Yes you absolutely should have, based on how quickly you’re approaching your orgasm.

Your cries are so loud, but you don’t care, focusing only on your pleasure and the feel of Joel’s mouth on your throat. 

You’re finally getting what you want. And fuck, is it amazing.

Your eyes roll back as it all builds up inside you, Joel’s hand unrelenting as he fucks you closer and closer to the edge.

You’re scorching, everything hot and intense, your stomach tightening, your legs stretching out as the pleasure builds and builds.

Fuck, you’re gonna cum—

It rips through you violently, eyes prickling with tears, your thighs clenching as your walls bare down repeatedly around Joel’s fingers, making him groan. 

“Good girl,” Joel murmurs, hand eventually inching out of you and your shorts to squeeze your thigh appreciatively as aftershocks run through you, thighs quaking and clit throbbing. “That’s what you needed, huh? S’it feel good, cummin’ all over my fingers?”

His fucking voice!

“Mhmm,” you hum in agreement, sinking into the sheets, eyes drooping shut as pleasure lulls you to sleep. 

He tsks, “Wake up, darlin’ I ain’t done with you yet.”

His beard scrapes against your neck as he moves to your ear.

“It’s my turn to use you.”

Your eyes shoot open. Fuck. 

Joel pulls your panties down your legs as far as he can, and you squirm to wriggle them off of you.

He pulls away for a moment, but when he’s back, the bare, hot, thick length of him is pressed between your ass cheeks, and a full body shudder runs through you.

Holy shit, he’s big.

He grips your thigh again, but this time he throws it over his own. And then you feel it, the slick head of his cock as he guides it through your folds.

Oh fuck.

“You okay, peach?” He asks, laying a gentle kiss on your shoulder. Now you have tears in your eyes for an entirely different reason. His hand slides across your waist and up beneath the hem of your shirt, palming your breast. Your nipples tighten. 

Your mouth feels dry and you swallow down a lump of lava. “Y-yes, Joel.”

“Good. Wanna give you all of me, how’s that sound, darlin’?”

You will take whatever, anything you can get from Joel.

“Good, Joel. Yes, please, oh my god.”  

“There are those manners.”

A desperate whine slips from your lips as he directs the head of his cock into you, slowly and carefully, his hand running up and down your thigh in comforting strokes. God, he’s stretching you so much, hot and thick and pulsing inside you. It’s almost painful, but it’s a welcome pain.

“Jesus, Joel,” you moan when he stops to let you breathe, “You’re so big.”

“I ain’t even halfway in yet, darlin’.”

“W-what?” How is that even possible? 

“You can take it.” He says, sliding in some more and fuck you don’t have much of a choice. but you can, and you will because he feels too fucking good, and you’re ready for him to make you feel it into next week.

“Is…is it all the way in yet?” You ask, thoroughly stretched and filled. 

“Almost, sweet girl,” he breathes. “Goddamn, you’re tight.”

That makes you clench down even more, and he releases a pained groan behind you. “Relax, darlin’, c’mon.”

You do your best and let yourself sink into the bed, taking deep breaths and concentrating on the crackling of the fire.

And then, he thrusts fully into you, filling you up completely, and your mind is right back to him, a soft cry slipping from your lips into the pillow.

 “There we go, tha’s it. Good job. Taking me so well,” he croons, stroking your side.

“F-fuck me, Joel, please move.”

He squeezes your ass in his large palm in retaliation to your command. “You use me, I use you, remember?”

But he listens anyway, likely desperate to move himself, because then he’s gripping your hip with a large hand and pulling back just to sheath himself fully into you once more, his cock head bumping against your cervix, and holy fucking shit.

“Joel!” You cry, and he leans over to kiss you, teeth biting at your plump lower lip as he thrusts into you again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

He rolls into you at a steady, bruising pace, and you’re practically boneless as you just take it. Cries and whimpers and moans spilling out of you like a gas leak as he mouths down your throat, sucking and biting and oh my god this is way better than just getting yourself off on his hand. 

Then Joel shifts, pushing at your side to press your stomach into the mattress. You whine as he pulls out of you to situate himself behind you. He grabs your hips with both hands and pulls them up and backwards, easing himself back into you until your ass meets his skin, then he rolls his hips, driving his cock deep from a brand new angle.

All you can do is sob into the pillow. 

He’s so fucking big, so fucking deep you can’t think of anything else besides him and his wonderful cock, or the filthy things he’s whispering into your shoulder blades.

His large hand plants itself on your spine, and your hands scramble for purchase on a pillow.

“Sweet girl, taking me so fuckin’ well,” he purrs. “You were desperate for this cock, huh? God, I wish you could see yourself. Split open on me like this. Your little boy toy wouldn’t be able to fuck you like this, ain’t that right?"

You shake your head. God, why did you even make that dick appointment in the first place?

You hadn’t even realized what being fucked by a “real man” meant until now.

Joel knows how to fucking deliver, you guess that’s why he’s so successful in his contracting business. He’s delivering you straight to that blessed release. 

You clench around the girth of him, the filthy sounds of your arousal echoing in his room along with the cracks and snaps from the fire burning steadily in the hearth.

If you couldn’t sleep before, you definitely will be able to after this because you’re mindless as he fucks you into oblivion.

“Joel, fuck—mmph—!” 

“Yeah, that’s right. Can’t say anythin’ but my name.”

His breathing has become more labored, desperate grunts escaping his lips as his cock twitches inside of you. He’s getting close, deep and gravely moans falling out of him as his thrusts become harder and more sporadic.

His hand sneaks around your front, spanning your entire stomach as he slides down to your soaking folds, his middle and ring finger finding that sensitive bundle of nerves and giving them a gentle tap before circling, using that same method from before that had you squirming.

You writhe on his length, legs falling out beneath you as your orgasm swells within you. 

“Please Joel,” you whimper into the pillow. 

“I’ve got you,” he promises. 

It’s there, filling your body, building and cresting and searing white-hot through your limbs. 

And then he thrusts a certain way, hitting that spot within you, and his fingers are circling and—

Yeah.

You fall boneless to the mattress as you come apart, your arousal coating Joel’s cock as he continues to fuck you through your release, stroking your spine. Pleasure floods through your body as the tension releases, and tears freely fall as you cry into the pillow.

Because goddamn it!

How can something feel so good? 

And then Joel’s pulling out of you and letting loose a long, satisfied moan as he comes all over your back, hot stripes painting you. 

He collapses next to you, groaning something about his back.

And you can’t help but laugh, delirious and soft, and Joel’s laughing too, brown eyes sparkling. His calloused hand comes up, runs his thumb along your jaw, and he’s smiling at you, soft and unlike anything you’ve ever seen before.

“You alright, peach?”

“Ohhh yeah,” you giggle, sighing with contentment.

You’re gonna be feeling this for days, just like you wanted.

Joel’s lips brush against your forehead gently, and you’re too tired to acknowledge it, slumber pulling you under far too quickly. You think you can feel the gentle swipe of a wet washcloth on your back before you pass out.

-----

“Fuck…”

The bed is empty when you wake, and a spike of anxiety shoots through you as you sit up. A fire still crackles in the hearth, a fresh log dropped in the ash. On the night stand is a note, beneath it, one of Joel’s t-shirts, your jeans, and a pair of your underwear. 

Mortification climbs through you as you read:

Peach,

My bathroom’s on the left if you’d like to shower. I hope you don’t mind, I went through your bag to get you some panties  underwear. Lot of books in there. You sure like to read.

Oh god, he found your erotica stack. The covers are not misleading, either, he definitely knows what kind of books they are. You force yourself to keep reading through the humiliation.

I’m out picking up Sarah and Ellie, I’ll be home soon. There’s pancakes on the counter. We’ll tow your car when I get back.

Also–about last night…we don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to. But, I want you to know that if you ever need something like that again, I’m here. And for anything else. I’m here. Always. 

See you soon. 

Warmth fills your body and you reread those last sentences over and over. 

Always. Does he really mean that? 

You check the alarm clock on his nightstand–it’s eleven fucking a.m. Holy shit, you haven’t slept that late in a long time. 

When you stand, an ache radiates through you, and memories of last night flit in your mind and along with them, a fresh new wave of arousal. You scramble for the shower.

You emerge fresh and clean twenty minutes later, smelling like Joel, having only his body wash and shampoo to use. Each inhale is practically torture, and the ache between your legs is just another reminder. Seeing yourself in his shirt makes it worse. You try and push it away.

You descend the steps, halting when you hear the sound of Ellie’s voice from the kitchen.

“And I was like, pew pew! And I got both of them out!”

Sarah’s scoff of disbelief follows. “Nuh-uh! You didn’t even hit me!”

You creep down the steps, smiling a bit at Ellie’s outcry of “Yes I fucking did!”, and then you hear it–Joel’s low laugh, the Texan drawl.

“You kiddos are gonna drive me crazy. Just eat your damn pancakes.”

“Why’d you make these in the first place? You don’t even like pancakes,” Sarah teases. 

“Uh…”

You decide you should probably help him out. “Hey girls.”

Three heads snap in your direction. The eyes of one skirting down your body, a blush creeping across his cheeks. The other two brighten in shock. 

“What are you doing here!” Ellie gasps. 

“We haven’t seen you in forever!” Sarah adds.

You enter the kitchen and come up behind them to pull them in for a hug, your arms hooking around their necks. You smush their cheeks against yours. Ellie grumbles, Sarah laughs.

“I know! I’ve missed you guys so much. I’m just super busy with being an adult and all that shit,” you say, letting them go so they can breathe. You round the island, grabbing a plate and stacking two pancakes on it.

“Well, stop being busy. We miss you,” Ellie says.

“If I could, I would.”

“Why are you wearing Dad’s shirt?” Sarah asks, eyes narrowing, a mischievous smile pulling at her lips.

“I–um–” the question catches you off guard, and you scramble for an excuse, eyes flicking to Joel desperately. He clears his throat and crosses his arms over his broad chest, now covered in yet another, dark flannel. How many does he own?

“Snowstorm stranded her here last night, and she didn’t have any clean clothes,” Joel says, definitively.

It’s not a lie at all, and yet, it feels like one.

Sarah and Ellie exchange a look that says, yeah fucking right. You shovel pancake into your mouth to try and cool down the blush in your cheeks. 

“Speakin’ of,” he continues, “I’ve got the tow dolly all hooked up so when you’re done, we can tow your car out.”

“Great. Thank you, Joel.”

His brown eyes flick between yours, his hand coming up to rest large and warm on your shoulder. “‘Course, sweetheart.” 

You finish your pancakes without any more embarrassing questions from the girls, thank God, and then you’re out in the snow wearing a pair of Joel’s boots stuffed with socks (they’re too big, but they’re better than heels) and bundled up in one of his coats, watching Joel tow your tiny car out of the snowbank.

It’s just as cold as yesterday, though the dreary sky has cleared into a baby blue, the sun bright and high above the clouds. The roads are clearer, the snow plows having come by not too long ago. 

You grimace as you hear your car groan and creak as Joel pulls it out of the snow, big puffs of it falling off the roof in clumps. Eventually, it’s on solid ground once more, and he tows it back toward his cabin. 

Back in the driveway, Joel hops out of his truck and double checks your car. He pats the roof of it when he deems it accetable. “All good to go, sweetheart.”

You sigh in relief, “Thank you so much Joel, seriously.”

He nods, though he looks…nervous for some reason. “‘Course, darlin’. Glad I could help.”

You don’t really want to leave, but you’ve bothered him long enough, so you stroll to the driver's side and go to open it, but suddenly Joel’s hand comes down to keep it closed. You look up at him confused. 

His expression is hard, serious as he looks down at you. “Do you regret last night?”

Well. You were not expecting that. You thought that, maybe, it would just remain undiscussed. A blip. Something you both shared, but never spoke of again. You know your answer, though.

 “No. I don’t.”

“Good,” he says, eyes dark, “me either.”

He opens the door for you, pauses for a second then shuts it, voice desperate. “I just need to say this, before you go.”

You nod, encouraging him to go on.

He takes a deep breath, rakes a hand through his graying locks. Pinches the bridge of his nose, and shuts his eyes tight. When he opens them again, there's a hard determination in them. Your pulse quickens, your legs turn to jelly.

“I like you, peach,” he says. “I understand if you don’t want to be with me because of the whole single father thing. And, also because I’m me. But I just thought I’d tell you how I felt, because,” he huffs out a laugh, shakes his head, “I’m thinkin’ you might like me, too.”

Your hands are shaking, and not because of the cold. Maybe you should buy a lottery ticket with how lucky you've been these past fifteen hours.

“I’ve liked you since the moment I met you, Joel," you confess. 

“Oh,” he says, breathless, and a smile pulls at his lips.

“Yeah,” you breathe, your own grin forming to match his. 

The breeze shakes the evergreens, drifting flakes of snow onto Joel’s graying hair. His nose is reddened by the biting cold, but his eyes are warm as he smiles down at you. 

“Not gonna lie to you sweetheart, I’m kind of glad you got stranded here.”

"Yeah, me too," you laugh, and then you pull him down to you, pressing your lips against his, smiling into the kiss.

This kiss is the exact opposite of the one he gave you last night. It’s careful, sweet, tentative. He reveres your mouth, rather than ravishes it. You’re both bundled in multiple layers, standing in the freezing cold rather than lying naked in a warm bed. 

And yet, it’s just as perfect, if not more.

Eventually Joel pulls back, hands heavy on your waist. He’s still grinning. His hands frame your face, his thumb running softly along your cheekbone. 

“Peach,” he says. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

[macfrog]

jet

🎉 thank u guys so much for 1k followers 🎉 i don’t know how we got here but i love you all endlessly and can’t thank you enough for all the love n support. here’s some smutty joel to celebrate 🤩 this might become something, it might not. i dunno. wanted to try it out tho. lmk your thoughts ✨

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

summary: you and joel have an agreement: follow his movements, follow his orders, stay alive. what happens when, one night, he asks you to break the deal?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) post-outbreak!joel, pining i guess?? when don't i pine for this man, praise kink, light bondage, fingering, unprotected p in v sex (don't u dare), creampie, dom!joel, soft!joel, age gap (late 20s reader, late 40s joel), cursing, cute horsies

word count: 6.9k

main masterlist

Somewhere between Missouri and Illinois, last time you checked. Joel has the map, and you don’t bother asking him to see it much. You’ve been following the Mississippi north, on his orders, looking to hit St. Louis sometime tomorrow. Provided you don’t run into any trouble, that is.

It’s been three days with no safe refuge. Camping out in deserted houses with wood for windowpanes, stores infested with rats, office buildings with infected roaming. Joel figures the outskirts of the city are a good spot to stop for a couple nights, regain your strength, find supplies.

You’re a few paces ahead of him, only turning your head slightly when you notice an offramp, and looking back ahead when he doesn’t give any direction. You weave in and out of abandoned cars, hips swaying with the clipping of your horse’s hooves on broken asphalt, Joel’s horse in time at your heels.

You’d untethered the pair of them on a farm back in Nebraska. Joel had told you to stay put while he cleared the house, but you’d wandered over to the field when you spotted them. Timid, skittish, starving.

Five minutes hooked over the fence and they were both eating grass you’d pulled from the earth, right out of your hand. Joel’s heavy footsteps approaching had spooked them back a few steps, but you’d petted their muzzles and when he did the same, they soon warmed to him, too.

He’d jerked his head in a nod and muttered, “Good job,” before finding two saddles, strapping them on, and helping you onto the chestnut brown one – who you’d named Jet.

Joel had found tins of food in the farmhouse, and a switchblade for you to carry. He had a new stain on his shirt.

“Infected?” you asked.

He grunted in reply. Then rolled the tins into his backpack and hoisted himself onto his own horse, giving her reins a tug.

You knew that meant that yeah, there’d been infected inside. And recent, too, going by how well-kept the horses looked. It can’t have been longer than a week.

Joel’s silence as you both wandered down the farm track probably meant that there weren’t just adults in the house, either.

You’d glanced over to him, giving him a small smile. Bent over and reached for his horse’s ears, scratching where her soft black coat met her mane. The reins lay loose around Joel’s knuckles.

Protecting and providing for you was more important than some infected kids in a farmhouse. Joel had made that more than clear over the time you’d been with him. But somewhere, buried deep underneath years of fighting and killing, tucked away under a dusty flannel shirt, you knew his heart was hurting.

That was two weeks ago. Joel hasn’t talked about it, and you’re not interested in bringing it back up. Y’all got to the farm, took everything it had to offer, and you left.

Jet clicks her way along the highway somewhere south of the city. It’s still bright out; Joel reckons probably a few more hours of sunlight, so you know he’ll be scouting for places to camp out soon.

You lean back to stretch your spine, hand steadying yourself on Jet’s rump, her tail swishing as she walks. Her head bobs, looking from left to right, from the trucks with smashed windows sprouting moss, over to the trees losing leaves in the fall breeze.

It’s peaceful. Not much is, these days.

It’s quiet enough that Joel can listen for any sound of oncoming threat, and quiet enough that you can shut your eyes and pretend like you’re on some trail in the Texas country, on a warm summer evening; not exhausted, covered in dirt, weeks since you washed, days since you slept.

You’re humming gently to yourself, imagination taking you down by a creek where Joel pulls you by hand off the horse and you sit down to a picnic or something. He’d bring a basket. Maybe a bottle of wine, or a cheese board. Maybe he lays you back and kisses you on the blanket. Maybe his hand starts to wander up your thigh, skirt ruffling as he goes…

“Not much out here, is there?”

His voice startles you, bursting the seams of your daydream. He isn’t much of a talker, not unless you start it. You sit up straight and give your head a shake, as if dislodging the fantasy from your mind.

You twist around to look at his face; squinting under the bright white sky. Tired, same as you, lined, flecked with years and sun and survival.

“Hm?” he asks when you still don’t reply.

“Not a lot,” you finally say, clearing your throat and turning back to the road.

Finding the horses isn’t the only thing that’d happened two weeks ago.

Joel hadn’t wanted to camp in the farmhouse, hadn’t wanted to have to shift the bodies. Too much effort, or too much for you to see, maybe. You’d protested, heart set on a night’s sleep in an actual bed, but he hadn’t budged.

And you knew not to push him.

The sun was setting, though, so Joel led you down a dirt track toward a barn and burst the padlock. He tied the horses up just inside the door, used bundled up hay as a makeshift mattress upon which he laid out a blanket for you.

He barricaded the door as you lay back, did a walkaround of the place just in case any infected – or worse – were waiting to surprise y’all, and then sat down next to you.

Your head by his thigh, you put a hand on his knee.

“You can lie down, too, y’know.”

He grunted in response, breathing deep and steady.

“Joel.”

You took his shoulder and tried to pull him down to you, but the man is stronger than anyone you’ve ever met, even in his late forties, and you were convinced he’d only pretended to be yanked toward you so as not to hurt your feelings too much.

He remained upright. “Just want to keep watch for a while.”

Joel’s like this when you’re on the road. He’s cautious. On high alert. Always watching ahead, always listening out for whatever he thinks he might hear in the distance. Sometimes you can say something to him and have to give his leg a kick for him to answer you.

You’d sighed and pushed yourself up to lean your bicep against his. He furrowed his brows and scanned you from your jeans to your jaw.

“If you’re up, I’m up,” you told him.

“You need sleep,” he replied flatly.

You shrugged. “So do you.”

“What good is both of us tired?”

You sighed again and shook your head. You weren’t gonna argue with him.

Good thing he didn’t feel much like arguing, either. Ten minutes later he was on top of you, jeans loose on his thighs, head buried in your shoulder, fucking you senseless. Grunting and groaning into your skin.

You’d scored marks into his shoulder blades with your nails that you’re sure, if you peeled back his shirt right now, would still be there.

It’d tired you both out enough that Joel settled with your head on his chest, his hand in your hair, eyes trained on the barn doors. You don’t know if he slept a wink. You never know if he sleeps these days.

Joel hears the hoarseness of your voice and knows that you’re tired, ‘cause he clicks to his horse and she trots up alongside you and Jet. He pulls the map from his backpack. You tilt your head to take a look.

“Keep ridin’ for another hour,” he mumbles. “’m sure we’ll find somewhere soon. Looks like we’re still a little way out of St. Louis.”

You nod, rolling your head back. The cloudy sky burns your corneas as you watch a bird fly overhead. Joel slips the map back into his bag and you feel his hand on your thigh.

“You okay?”

“Mhm. Tired,” you whisper.

“Only a little while longer.” He gives your leg a small squeeze and his hand returns to the reins. He doesn’t fall back, instead, stays ambling along by your side. It feels like company. Feels nice. Feels…normal.

Two weeks is a long fucking time. Especially when your adrenaline peaks on the regular, sometimes multiple times in one day, and you’re alone with Joel all day and all night. Trusting each other, relying on each other. Saving each other time and time again. It was only natural that you began to rely on each other for…more than just survival.

You can’t remember when you found him. It was in the QZ, back when you believed in stability and structure. When you believed in people. Now, the only thing you believed in was Joel. Broken, hurt, shut-off Joel, who’d grumbled an apology when his shoulder brushed yours in the hallway and changed everything.

You like to think you were something new to him, something different. A challenge, maybe. Something worth holding onto, anyway, for reasons he was yet to let you in on.

He had an apartment of his own, with a bed of his own, which was something you weren’t used to. You shared a cramped apartment with Luce, a single mom with a two-year-old. Joel’s was where you went when the tantrums, the screaming in the middle of the night, the ration cards being destroyed either by ripping, by eating, or else by other means, became too suffocating.

Joel didn’t believe in anything or anyone, either. That’s what kept you coming back.

He’d just open his door and step aside to let you in. Barely a word. He’d ask if you’d eaten, and share his plate with you either way. Wordlessly picking away at the same food, making sure you got the last spoonful of soup, the last strip of jerky.

Most nights he’d fuck you until your mind went blank, nothing but the smell of him, feel of him, sound of him. No talking, no kissing, no touching. Just the sound of the bed springs, Joel’s soft groans as he bottomed out inside you. The feel of his hot skin, hips rubbing against the inside of your thighs. The bare, cracked brick walls of his apartment would fade away with each thrust, and then slowly seep back in when your orgasm began to wash away.

You knew it was time-wasting, for both of you. Scratching an itch. But some nights, it felt like more. The nights when he’d be so caught up in what he was doing, so caught up in you, that he’d forget to pull out. The nights his hips would snap messily and suddenly he was spilling inside of you, a deep groan humming against your skin between his teeth.

He wouldn’t care to ask, and you wouldn’t offer the information for free, but you remember every fucking time he did it. Where it’d happened, the position he had you in, how long it took for him to finally peel his body off of yours.

And afterwards, he’d let you sleep with your head on his chest. Let you play with his fingers. Let you talk to him; let you ask questions.

Didn’t mean he answered all of them. Didn’t even mean he answered much. Some, he’d give away more openly than others, but you soon got used to clocking when he was keeping a secret. Make a mental note of it, remember to chip away at it.

He trusted you, though; you knew that. Knew it by the way his fingers knotted safely in your hair, the way he’d lie naked with you until the sun came up. The way his breathing would slow, the way he’d mumble in his sleep.

You never talked to him about the incoherent words he’d breathe – but you could piece them together well enough to understand him better than his waken self would ever reveal.

When you brought up leaving, one rainy night weeks ago, he thought about it maybe twice over. Asked how he was supposed to keep you safe.

You do that already, you told him.

‘s different outside. You don’t understand.

It can’t be any worse than in here.

You’d taken a step forward, and he’d flinched, but allowed you to take his strong jaw in your hands. You tried to form a sentence, and when your throat closed up, eyes flitting between his, he took your wrists and lowered them. The shadow of a rain-spattered window doused in a sickly amber glow across his face.

You’d wanted to kiss him. And had he left your hands where they were just a few seconds longer, you think you might’ve. Joel saw it in your eyes, and stopped it.

Whatever. It had still convinced him. He packed his bag and you snuck down the fire escape the following night. Joel’s fingers were hooked around your belt loop the entire time, keeping your hip in stride with his all the way until you were at least a hundred feet away from the QZ wall.

His other concern was his age. Why someone like you would want to run away with someone like him. Forty-something, graying, past his peak. He has, like, twenty years on you. Once he made some reference about Bruce Springsteen and, when your face blanked, he sighed and took the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

I know who Bruce Springsteen is, asshole, you’d said, just didn’t get that reference.

He’d shaken his head and given you a sly, twisted smirk, then pushed you out the door of the apartment block you guys were searching.

Still, despite the years between you, you have one major thing in common.

You’re both good at getting each other…there.

Joel knows exactly what to do to make you tick. You know exactly how to push him until he does it. It’s in the way you look at him, the way you touch him. Things you say that make his stony eyes flit once down your body, and then you know you’re in.

It’s a little harder to do while on horseback, you gotta admit. The best you can do is look at him, say a sentence or two laced with want and need. Hope that he reads through the lines.

It’s worked a few times, when Joel’s suddenly found a shed or basement you can camp out in and then made it difficult for you to walk for the next couple days.

Right now, you feel too tired to even bat your eyelashes at him, never mind coming up with lines to turn him on. You’ve been on the highway for a few hours by this point, little sign of shelter anywhere nearby. Joel holds his hand out and you bring your horses to a stop in view of a hospital a couple miles ahead.

“That’s gotta be teemin’ with them,” you say, looking over to study his expression.

“Hm,” Joel agrees, and glances to the right.

“What you thinkin’? Sun’s getting lower.”

He takes a deep breath, pulls on the reins. “Know somewhere nearby.”

He heads off the highway with a click of his teeth, and you follow. You shut your eyes, chin burying beneath the collar of your shirt. You’d kinda hoped that he’d offer to clear even a small part of the hospital for you to rest up, maybe more, but you trust him enough to lead you somewhere safer, somewhere quieter.

That trust begins to wear thin, though, when the sun disappears behind the trees, drowning you guys in a low dusk, and the temperature begins to fall. Joel’s using what’s left of the gray light to guide him, slowing down to take a hold of Jet’s reins and line her up with his own horse.

“I thought you said an hour,” you mumble, grip becoming slack on the leather.

“Changed my mind,” he replies. “Almost there.”

Your eyes start to roll with exhaustion, hips aching from the position you’ve been sat in for hours now. It’s not until you notice the silhouette of a tall sign in the clearing, black against the fading purple sky, that you blink yourself awake.

Joel pulls you and Jet off the road to a deserted parking lot, shadowed by a motel. He slows the horses down, listening for any signs of life, leading them to the side of the building.

“Easy,” he whispers, pulling on the reins. Both animals come to a halt.

He slides off the saddle, hitting the ground with a thud. He takes your hands, pulling you down to him, and you glance around.

“Stay here,” he tells you, and you don’t have the energy to argue back.

He makes off, pulling his gun from his holster. You stand with a hand on each horse’s muzzle, gently petting. Joel’s gone for a decent amount of time, his silhouette slowly sneaking in and out of every room, spending a couple minutes in each before he clears it.

He returns with a box of pills, some gauze, and a bottle of water, which he hands to you. You take a long swig and pass it back, and he does the same.

“What will we do with Jet ‘n…?”

“Huh?” he asks, replacing the cap on the half-empty bottle.

“What’s your horse called?”

“She ain’t got a name.”

You tsk. “Bad owner.”

“We ain’t their owners.”

“Mine’s is Jet. Pick a name.”

Joel sighs and shakes his head, but you know he’s gonna spend all night thinking up some name to go with yours. “We’ll tie ‘em up out here.”

“What if something happens to them?”

“Well,” he says, leading them toward the shelter, “if somethin’ happens to them, it only means it’s about thirty seconds away from happenin’ to us.”

He jerks his head toward the first room as he ties them up, and you know the conversation is over.

You wander into the small, dingy room, pulling your jacket from your shoulders. It smells of damp, the wallpaper’s peeling off the wall above the bed. The sheets are in disarray, a little dusty, but they look clean enough. The bathroom walls are covered in grime. Drawers empty, closet doors missing, entire place ransacked.

It’s as good as you get, these days. At least it has a solid roof.

Joel settles the horses and closes the door gently behind himself. You’re already tugging your boots off, sat at the foot of the bed.

He rests his gun on the nightstand and straightens up, stretching his back with a quiet groan.

“’s cozy,” you offer, and he nods.

“Better ‘n risking that hospital.”

The bedsprings creak when you shimmy up the mattress, resting your back against the hardwood headboard. It ain’t the most comfortable, but then it’s not meant to be, is it? It’s only meant to be safe, which Joel’s made sure of.

He stands at the bottom of the bed, watching you as you bounce up and down a couple times, laughing quietly at the sound of the springs beneath you. His expression clouds over under low brows.

“Y’okay?” you ask, tilting your head.

He nods again. Eyes flitting up and down, from your face to your neck, back up, and then lower still. Your chest. Your stomach. Your legs. You feel your heartbeat quicken when he takes a step forward.

“Just had to find somewhere better.”

“Better?” You smile. “Have you seen the world, Miller?”

He leans his knee against the foot of the bed. His brown eyes darken even more, and his jaw tenses.

“Had to find somewhere better,” he mutters, “so I could fuck you in peace.”

Your breath catches. You stare from his lips back up to his eyes. His fists are balled tight. His chest heaves with steady panting. There’s something flickering in the depths of those warm eyes; an ember, drawing you in. Tantalizing you.

You sit forward, pushing onto all fours, and crawl down the groaning bed to him, rising onto your knees when your hands meet his shirt. Your chest against his stomach, you look up into his eyes.

His rough hands knot in your hair and he pulls down, yanking your head back and your chin up to him. He studies your face, outlined in the moonlight seeping through the window. Then he lowers his jaw and lines his lips against yours.

“That what you want?” he hums against your mouth. You swallow his words – they claw at your throat as they go.

“Uhuh,” you breathe back, trying to connect your lips. He doesn’t allow you; steadily dodges your jaw like you’re a pair of negative magnets, repelling off one another. You moan.

“Needy girl,” Joel whispers. “Two weeks too long for you?”

“Mhm.”

You’re not tired anymore. You’re fucking desperate. You feel your cunt dripping, seeping through your underwear, worsened when Joel’s hand reaches down between your legs and cups you through your jeans.

You gasp and grab his arms to steady yourself.

“Tell me what you want,” he says, hand tensing around your core.

Your lip trembles as you watch the way his mouth moves, how he shapes the words. His teeth locked between soft lips, dappled with brown hair, ends singed gray. The way he almost spits the words.

Your chest meets his torso when you breathe in, a deep, shaky breath. Joel notices; the corners of his mouth twitch, holding back a smile.

“Want you to…want you…”

He doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence. He pushes you back and falls on top of you, strong body pinning you against the mattress, hand still clamped to your crotch.

His head dips to your neck where he bites, scratches and sucks, mumbling against your hot skin, “Tell me, baby. Use your words.”

Your head begins to swim, body starts pulsing with electricity. Baby. Joel’s pet names are limited to one thing. One activity.

“Want you to f– fuck, Joel – fuck me.” Fuck me fuck me fuck me.

His hand begins wrestling with the button of your jeans. Thick fingers fumbling with your zipper, taking your waistband with both hands and hauling it down. The force of it pulls you down the mattress too, squealing as Joel rips the denim from your legs. You lower your hands to help him, but once they’re tossed to the floor, he bats you away.

He’s shaking his head, tsking, then takes both your wrists in one of his huge hands. Fingers twisted around your delicate skin, pinning them above your head. The bed sighs around you when he pushes your hands into the mattress. Your back arches, your chest rising to meet his.

Your legs part, knees settling either side of his waist. Of course they do. It’s what you know now. It’s basic fucking instinct at this point.

His free hand returns to cup your sex, feeling how wet you are through your now soaked underwear.

“Baby,” he coos, “this all for me?”

You nod a little too eagerly, not that you’re present enough to care. But it beckons a smug smile from Joel, who begins sliding your panties down your thighs.

Your hips lift to let him drag the fabric down, biting your lip, not willing to wait another fucking second for him. Lace meets denim on the torn-up floor, and you sigh, settling back against the rusty bedsprings and mottled sheets.

Joel’s free hand ghosts from your wrist down to your elbow, teetering along the sleeve of your t-shirt over to the collar, where he pulls it so far down into the valley between your breasts that a small noise passes your lips.

“Hm?” he asks, fingers pausing against your breastbone.

“’s my only shirt. Don’t…”

He kisses his teeth. His gaze never lifts from your heaving chest, skin damp with sweat right underneath his fingers. You can see him tossing it over in his head. What he wants to do, versus what he probably shouldn’t.

He blinks. Decision made.

“Give you one of mine,” he growls, and hooks his fingers, dragging the fabric of your shirt lower and lower until the collar tears open and it’s another scrap lost to the motel room floor.

And then there you are, naked and writhing underneath him. He’s still in his dusty flannel. There’s sweat lining his forehead. He holds himself over you, hovering, taking every inch of you in and storing it behind his eyes.

You jerk your hands, trying to break free just to touch him, feel him, but he pulls away again, tutting.

“No, pretty girl,” Joel coos, “gonna take my time with ya.”

You moan in protest, still wriggling under his body. His grip on your wrists doesn’t loosen, not even when his free hand dips to undo his belt. The cold metal kisses your naked thighs when he pulls it through his jeans; the leather drags up your torso and across your face as he lifts it.

He takes your hands individually, careful and yet rough, urgent, and slots them between the slats of the headboard. Your head turns up to watch what he’s doing. The silver of his belt buckle knocks against the wood as he slips it under your wrists, feeding it between your skin and the mattress, wrapping it around the slat between your hands.

Then he slips the belt through the buckle, and pulls. Tight. Your hands come together, wrists kissing, the leather burning your skin the tighter he pulls. You whine, head rolling back to meet his gaze, fixed on yours.

“Since you don’t wanna listen.”

The drip in his voice, sweet like honey, smooth as whiskey, forces your legs open wider. Joel smirks, pushing himself down the mattress and out of your view.

Staring up at the gray ceiling, you’re left just to feel him. Feel him as his palms splay out on your knees, pushing them into the bed. Feel his stubble graze the inside of your thigh as he drags his tongue up, leaving a trail of wet behind.

Feel when he breathes a whisper across your aching cunt, something you can’t hear over the ruffling of sheets around your head as you toss around. And feel when his fingers part your lips, opening you up wide for him to really fucking see.

“Fuck, baby,” he says, and you find the strength to lift your head to watch. He’s leant over you, one arm hooked around your left thigh, holding it open, the other fucking…playing with you. Like you’re some fancy gadget. Like you’re brand new to him.

“So,” he runs two fingers from your clit through your folds, “fuckin’,” lines them up at your entrance, “pretty – for me.”

He pushes up into you, and your head hits the pillow with a stifled groan. You’re panting through your teeth, back arching the deeper he goes, stretching you out and rocking waves of sparkling heat through you. Waves that hit the other end of your stomach and come rippling back, throbbing around his thick fingers.

His arm bears down on your thigh, forcing your legs wide open for him. His hand cups your clit and you buck your hips, rutting against the base of his palm. Joel laughs softly.

“Patience, darlin’. Don’t want it to be over ‘fore it’s even started.”

Your head rocks back and forth, eyes tight shut. It’s all you can fucking do, tied tight to the bed. Joel pumps his fingers in and out of you, adding a third when you’re wet enough, thumb never leaving your clit.

You can feel your orgasm brewing in your stomach. Feel the tension between your hips. You’re chasing it, eyes shut, focusing only on Joel’s hand fucking in and out, in and out. You’re coming close, body pushing into the mattress, legs widening even more to let him slip a fourth finger inside you.

“Feel good?” he asks, almost with a laugh. There’s a smirk painted across his lips, you know it, even though you can’t find the energy to open your eyes.

You whimper in response, some small, muffled sound roughly shaped like yeah.

“Yeah,” Joel agrees, and his wrist flicks harder.

You moan every time his fingertips kiss the edge of your cunt, pushing against the soft walls. You moan when he drags them out, leaving you empty. Again, when he pushes them back in, rough and fast. And then when he lowers his lips to your ear and tells you how good you’re being, how pretty you look, how hard he’s gonna…

It’s like he changes his mind in an instant.

Withdraws his hand, slick-covered and still hooked. Pulls it away as quickly as he pulls your orgasm from your body. It drains from you; reduces back to an ache you can’t reach.

Joel slips his fingers between his lips as he readjusts himself, repositioning on the squealing mattress. Sucks them clean as casually as he would at a cookout or something, then takes your hips in both hands and straightens you up.

His jeans are tugged down barely past his ass. He’s not prepared to waste any time ripping his own clothes off like he did yours. Just leans forward, pulls his solid cock from his boxershorts, and spits into his hand.

You watch through eyes glazed with lust as he strokes himself a couple times, eyes always on your swollen cunt, groaning as his spit coats his shaft. Then he lowers himself to you and does the same, only running his length through your folds.

You whine, feeling that familiar thickness separate you so close to where you need him, and yet so fucking far.

“Joel…” you whisper, but he’s not listening.

Transfixed on the sight of his cock moving against your soaked cunt. Listening to the sweet, wet sounds the pair of you make. His tip catches on your entrance a couple times and you gasp. Just fucking do it already.

“Fuck,” Joel growls under his breath, and then…

It’s been months. Might even be years. But the feeling of him pushing inside you for the first time is still the same. Every. Fucking. Time. He’s bigger, thicker than anyone you’ve ever slept with before. And he knows it, because every single time, he glides into you without hesitation. No time for you to adjust. Just fills you up straight away, lets you deal with it later.

He’s cocky like that. Too careful when you’re on the road, and too careless when you’re between the sheets. Not that you’re fuckin’ complaining.

Your mouth falls open in a choked moan. Your lungs are gasping for air. Joel’s all you can feel.

Your elbows lift into the air, arms desperate to break free just to grab onto him, ground yourself, feel him close against you. Your wrists lock against the hardwood, leather digging into your skin as punishment for trying to break free. You’re stuck; nothing but the overwhelming feeling of him between your legs, filling you up and leaving you empty over and over again.

“Good girl,” he’s panting, still watching where his cock lines up with your cunt, and then disappears inside.

He leans down and his lips find home on your shoulder, sucking sweet marks into the skin like he always does. His tip bumps against your cervix, jolts of sensitivity pushing through you each time he bottoms out causing you to whine into his flannel.

“Fuck, Joel.”

“I know, I know. I got you. I’ll get you there again, baby.”

You had a routine. Follow his movements, follow his orders, stay alive. Deviate slightly from that routine, even for a minute, and you threw the whole agreement into jeopardy. One misstep on a crowded street dotted with cars once had a sniper open firing at you both for nearly two hours until Joel found him and put a bullet between his eyes. That time your curiosity got the better of you and Joel almost lost a hand stopping you from walking down an alleyway and straight into a wire trap.

Repeat it, Joel had said that night. Crouched by his apartment window, rain battering off the glass. Hands on the frame, ready to hoist it up and let you slip out any second. Repeat. It.

Do as you say, you whispered back. And only then did he pull the sash.

This is not the fucking routine. This is not the agreement. You fucked, of course you did. But that’s all it ever was. Hungry, touch-starved, desperate sex. Bored sex. We-almost-died-today sex. Not this.

Not: clear an entire motel just so nothing within a two-mile radius gets to hear you fuck me senseless. Strip me down, tie me up, push me to the edge with your hands, but don’t let me go without you. Curl your lips around my ear while you’re buried inside me and whisper praises. Whisper baby. Whisper…anything you like. Anything you wouldn’t say when the sun’s up.

This feels like it means something. To both of you. Feels like Joel’s looking for something in you, asking something of you. And you want to give it to him, whatever it is.

And maybe that’s the point.

He’s proving that he could make you do fucking anything. Let him tie you to a bedframe, push you close enough to the edge that you can feel the pressure of release beckoning you forward like the wind circling your ankles.

And you’re proving that you’ll do it. You’ll do what he says. Follow him to the edge, refuse to jump. Pull his body into yours, make it feel like home for a night.

He’s proving that he’ll take care of you, and you’re proving that you’ll let him.

Your wrists are burning. Leather digging marks, searing skin, then rubbing over it again and again to cut it deeper. It’s starting to hurt, if you’re honest with yourself. Your face probably gives it away.

Probably, possibly. Definitely.

Joel notices you quieten and lifts his head from the crook of your neck. Studies your face for a fraction of a second and knows.

“Hey,” he says, reaching up. He loosens the belt with one hand whilst still deep inside you, hips thrusting slowly just as a place marker.

When your hands slip free, Joel’s clasp gently around your wrist, fingers delicate over the sensitive, reddened skin. His eyes almost glisten at the sight.

“Baby…” he whispers.

“’s okay,” you reassure him, loosening his grasp on you and settling your shaky hands on his jaw. “I’m okay. Liked it.”

Joel lowers his forehead against yours and picks his pace up again, and you moan into the space between your lips. Your legs lift higher, knees bumping against his shoulders. His hips snap into yours, his jeans rutting against the inside of your thighs, the bed creaking with each messy thrust.

“Close, baby,” his voice vibrates against your lips.

“Yeah,” you whine, chest pushing against his. “Fuck. Right there. Fuck.”

Your arm drapes over his shoulder blades, nails dig into the rough cotton of his shirt. Your left hand is still at his jaw, fingers caressing his cheek. Joined together at your hips and your brows, gaze never really meeting for longer than a second, but still. You’re right there. Joel – he’s right there.

It’s new, it’s intimate. It’s almost…sweet.

“Gonna cum with me?” he asks, sincerely. He’s not trying to coax it out of you. He’s checking that you want to fall over the edge. Not for him, not because of him, but with him.

You nod and he returns it, sweat sticking his dark hair to his forehead.

With his eyes on you, flitting between your parted lips and your batting eyelashes, too scared to settle on either place for too long, he lifts your hips and fucks into you fast. Deep. Fucking – hard. Skin slapping against yours, breath hot and tangling with yours between your lips.

The pressure between your hips begins to build again, rapidly, Joel adding to it with every movement. Every push of his thick cock against your walls only draws them in tighter, closing around him, holding him closer to you with each moan escaping both your lips.

“Darlin’…” he murmurs in a broken voice, and you know. He’s starting to falter. Thrusts weakening.

“’m there too,” you reply, gasping for breath.

“Let me – feel you,” he says, “pretty girl.”

Maybe it’s the fact you don’t normally talk. Maybe the fact he never touches you the way he has tonight. Maybe it’s him wanting you to cum first, before he will.

Or maybe it’s pretty girl, that finally sends you over.

You look so good to him. You’re being so good for him. ‘n he can’t help it, has to let you know. Has to let every thought that passes through his head slip out past his tongue.

Pulling his chest flat against yours, you throw your head back to the pillow with a moan so filthy, so guttural that you’d be surprised if you don’t have company in five minutes.

Joel’s at your heels, face buried between your breasts, groaning into your chest as his cock twitches deep inside you and you feel him fill you up.

Your orgasm’s still knocking you senseless, every nerve in your body electrified. You’re holding Joel tight to your body, his ear flat to your chest, and you know he can hear your heartbeat. Know he’s listening to it throwing punches from behind your ribcage.

He’s still groaning through his breaths, heavy and thick with his release. Cock still deep inside you, still, softening. You lay like that for…well, you’ve no idea how long. But after a bit, Joel pulls himself up off of you and wanders into the bathroom.

You sit up on your elbows, taking deep, steady breaths, and let the stars in your vision dissipate. Joel emerges a couple minutes later and finally tugs his jeans down. He lifts both his shirt and the tee underneath off in one motion, tossing them onto the sideboard, then slips back under the covers, wordlessly hooking a hand around your upper arm and pulling you down onto his chest.

Your legs intertwine with his. There’s cum seeping out of you onto his thigh. Both of you, mixed up as one. His fingers sift through your hair, doing little to untangle it but trying all the same. His breathing in time with yours, his lips pressed safely to the crown of your head.

Before you know it, you’re sleeping.

Dawn breaks early. Too early. You’re still tangled up in Joel, feeling his chest rise and fall. Listening to his heartbeat – slow, calm. The drapes – not that there’s much left of them – are too thin to stop any light from flooding in. It’s only a matter of time before he wakes up.

The rough sheets sting against your wrists – red marks scoring them where Joel’s belt had been. You wince, running light fingers over the grazes, hissing at your fingertips as they go.

It hurts way less than it thrills you. This little reminder of what you did last night. What Joel did. The pain subsides the longer you touch the scars, knitted brows melting into a smile.

You slowly lift your head, propping yourself up on your elbow. Just watching him. The dust in the room frames him in a sea of white glitter, the slow-emerging sun lights across his face and dips where the scar on his nose sits.

His arms are still around your waist, cradling you. Holding you to him. You know he’s stirring when they tighten, and then fall loose. Façade back up. Walls slowly rebuilding.

You dress yourselves in silence. Run out of words to say. There ain’t nothing to say – nothing that wasn’t said last night. Joel sinks into the mattress beside you to tie his laces, and your arms brush against one another a couple times. It’s like fire on ice.

He’s first to leave the room. Just pulls his jeans over his boots and stands, unlocks the door and lets the light flood in. You check once over for anything left behind, and slip out. The air is cool, twilight still slowly washing away. You sling your jacket over Jet’s back and pull yourself up.

Joel’s t-shirt is loose over your shoulders. He gave you a fresh one from his bag. It smells like him, but you don’t let him see when you bury your nose into it to breathe him in. The hem bunches up over the top of your thighs once you’re sat on the horse.

His eyes scan down you once, surveying you in hisshirt. Then he swerves off back toward the road, silhouette cutting between the rays of sun streaming between the pine trees.

“Ghost,” he tosses over his shoulder.

“Huh?” You click to Jet to follow.

“Horse’s name. Ghost.”

“How come?” you ask when you’re side by side with him.

He shrugs, upper lip turning. “When it’s dark, you can’t hardly see her. She’s like a ghost.”

Joel’s hand surfs gently across Ghost’s mane, fingers scratching her shining coat. Your bodies rock in time with the sway of the horses’ walking. The echo of their hooves on the asphalt masks the silence for a few moments.

“Alright,” you eventually accept, turning away to watch the sun lift above the prickly treetops.

And to hide the smile tugging on your lips.

----------

taglist: @earthtogrogu @sexygaypalpatine @serenaxpedro @brittmb115 @jediknightjana @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi

(lmk if i’ve missed you out & check my taglist info for how to be added!)

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x FWB!Reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon "Ghost" Riley, Reader

Summary: Simon is getting more and more obsessed with his little friend who constantly finds herself in his bed. But when you are off on a quick mission for a few weeks, Simon begins to grow restless and this no strings attached messing around finds itself being turned on its head. What happens when you get a text from him the day you get back, in the middle of the day?

Word Count: 4.8 k

Warnings:

Part 1:

Late Night Texts

Whatever spell you had cast, whatever potion you had had the Lieutenant drink down he didn’t know, but there had to be some preternatural reason that he could not get enough of you no matter how much he had. You were in his very veins, in the marrow of his bones, in the crevasses of his brain; he was completely head over heels for you and it was only growing by the day.

Your visits to his room under the shroud of darkness were becoming almost nightly at this point, his texts popping up so frequent that no matter when your phone vibrated after dark, you knew it would be him asking if you were on your way over back to his quarters. There was no complaints, however, as you could not get enough of his very particular brand of ecstasy.

You both were in so deep that it was becoming more than just an occasional hook up now and that was only demonstrated more when one night after another round of steamy hot body parts interlocking in that specific way that led to both of you experiencing that little death, he made a request of you that you had not expected.

“What?” you asked as Ghost stared back as you, brow furrowed and mouth contorted as if he were deep in thought while he lay beside you in the bed.

That stoic man knew that what he was going to ask you was going to sound obsessive, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t about to deny himself just to save face; as if his nightly texts weren’t already making him look like a lust-drunk teen. Ever since he hit it that first time, he had not been the same and it only compounded each time he got it until whatever composure he had flew away.

“I… need ya to keep your phone on ya at all times,” he said.

You weren’t one to always keep your phone with you outside of your barracks, not unless you were off duty or it was after hours. It was a nuisance to constantly be drawn to look at it when you were busy and you hated being controlled by it, but the moment he told you to keep it on you there was nothing else for you to do; you had to comply.

“Keep it on vibrate,” he continued, “in case I need to reach ya.”

You smirked. “Strictly military business, correct?”

A deep roll of his eyes met your sarcasm. “Ya fuckin’ know what it’s for,” he said with an incredulous shake of his head.

“Fine…I can do that,” you played with a wink.

A large hand roughly palmed your cheek, eyes drifting over the features of your face as the need to kiss you again grew unbearable. “You did say ya wanted to be my problem, yeah? Well, now ya have to be the solution too.”

“Who said I didn’t want to?”

“Good girl,” he praised before pulling you forward into him once again. “Good girl.”

It was only a couple of days since you had strictly been carrying around that small rectangular object in your pocket at all times when the Lieutenant finally utilized it, making you meet him in the ammunition depot for a quickie during lunch. There was no time to waste as he pulled you inside and immediately got to work, having you coming faster than you thought you’d be able to, mostly from the rush of the forbidden nature of this lewd bit of sneaking around. How you were both able to get in and out in such an easy manner was astounding, but Ghost did have rank on the base so you were sure he had pulled a few strings to make such a filthy thing possible.

It seemed like you both were living on cloud fucking nine, but as life always tends to do nothing can ever be that simple.

As if to shake up your lives, a wrench got thrown into everything. A mission, close to just over a month, was assigned to your squad and there was nothing you could do but leave behind your prefect situation to go out into the field.

“Keep your phone with ya,” he reminded you and you did.

Week one of your departure wasn’t so bad; Ghost was able to distract himself enough that he was able to at least get through the day without thinking about you constantly. He took on more work, volunteered his time, anything to keep him busy until he was too tired to do anything other than head back to his quarters and pass out.

Then week two hit and he started to feel your absence. It began small, his mind would wander to his phone, trying to think up some sort of message he could send you that wouldn’t make him sound too desperate. He’d ask about how things were going, if the weather there was just as shit as back at base, just random things to hear from you. And he realized that his heart would skip a beat each time his phone vibrated, thinking it was you.

By the last week before your return, he could hardly keep still. Fuck he needed you more than he needed food or sleep, he pined for your company again as a starving man pines for food. His hand would never do to satisfy him like you did and it frustrated him that he could not focus because his cock was constantly straining against the barrier of his pants and his body craved to feel your own against it. Every day he checked to see if your squad had returned and each day there was nothing made his heart sink into his feet.

On the other end you were faring just as badly. You did your job just as you were supposed to, keeping your focus mostly on the task at hand, but when you had those moments of freedom it was spent on thinking about the countless nights you had spent in his company already and how you genuinely missed being in his presence as was what you had grown accustomed to.

Things were only made worse when he would text you, drawing attention to the fact that you were separated for the immediate future. Each day droned on and on in endless fashion until you were able to check your phone and see the scant few texts from him that had you holding on until you could be filled with him once again.

And yet it was more than that…though you didn’t know if you could admit it yet. Secret worries crept in that made your mind misfire with fears that he could possibly have moved on in your absence, those anxieties lacing themselves within your bodies need for him, and by the time you and your squad finally were able to return to base you were a wreck. The moment you stepped foot back on home turf you were acutely aware of everything and you wondered with palpating heart just where your lover was.

The team had returned around midday and that meant everyone was given a couple hours for lunch before debriefing would begin. A few of your mates had wrangled you into eating with them and though you hesitated at first, ultimately you gave in. Checking your phone and not seeing anything popping up on the screen sealed the deal; at least they would offer a distraction until you could find a second to see Ghost again.

About half an hour in, your phone buzzed in your pocket as you took another bite of your lunch. Ignoring it as to not be suspicious, you focused back on the conversation happening in front of you until it went off again and again in rapid succession, clearly trying to get your attention and fast.

Discreetly as you could under the table, you pulled the small rectangle out of your pocket and checked the lock screen as your heartbeat was in your ears. Three short texts glared back at you, simple and easy to read in a hurry.

My office.

Now.

Don’t wait.

You hadn’t even read the name of the sender, but you already knew who it was beckoning you in the middle of the day; there was only one who would be desperate enough to risk getting caught like this, but you weren’t about to deny him. It had been long enough you two had been apart that you had to see him again that instant.

Omw

You quickly sent back and in an instant there was a reply.

Got five minutes to get here.

Making up some bullshit excuse to break away from your group, you rushed out of the mess hall and towards the officer’s building that housed their private offices. Your steps were quick, but metered in such a way as not to draw any unwanted attention; no sense in causing yourself to waste time by getting caught up with someone asking where it was you were off to in such a hurry, especially when debriefing was happening so soon.

There was tightness in your chest as time seemed to slow down to an agonizing crawl. Logically you knew that you were almost there, but even with the building looming on the near horizon, it still seemed to take forever to reach it and all you desperately wanted to do was get to him as quick as you could.

The cool air of the officer’s building hit you and you could feel a shiver vibrate through your body; when had you gotten so warm? No time to analyze that as you had more important things to focus on.

You had been inside the building a few times, but never to Ghost’s office in particular and so it took you a minute to locate the room that had his nameplate on the door. Stepping up to the last barrier you both had between you, your heart leap violently in your chest as you raise a balled fist to the wood.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound of knuckles tapping on wood sounded through the small office and Ghost looked up just as the door was cracked open and his breath hitched when his eyes met your face that had just appeared through to the other side.

“You needed to see me sir?” you asked, blood pressure rising and heartbeat thudding wildly inside your chest; you had to keep up appearances to anyone who might be passing by, but you wanted nothing more than to just sprint straight to him and shred his fatigues from his perfectly sculpted body.

Ghost was on his feet in an instant, his pulse now racing liquid hot through his veins at the very sight of you suddenly before him again; he was already on edge the moment he had learned you were back as he waited for a free second in his busy day to call you to him. Now seeing you here in front of him again after such a profound gap of time spent apart sent him into a tailspin.

“Come in and shut the door, private, we need to have a chat,” he ordered roughly, playing his part effortlessly, and you did so without having to be told any more than that.

As soon as he heard the door latch he was on his feet, crossing the length of the room with quick steps that matched his accelerated breathing as he ripped his balaclava up and over his head to discard it somewhere on the floor. “Lock it,” he said abruptly and you immediately followed orders.

You turned back around and Ghost was on you before you could move further, closing his eyes and leaning in with his mouth to immediately connect your lips ferociously together before any of your other parts could touch yet. You had to be quick, there was no guarantee of how much free time you would have before someone could come around, but still he had to take a moment to enjoy that initial reunion of your mouths. Face pressed snugly against the contours of your own, wet, sloppy mouths crushed together in waves of aggressively frantic kisses as if he had completely forgotten the taste of your lips and it had been torturing him to insanity.

His hand moved out from his side and searched for yours until he found it, interlocking those long digits in the empty spaces between your own. Even in the fiery desperation with which he devoured your lips embraces, his touch was still incredibly tender as his hand stayed locked in yours.

“Goddammit, I missed you, luv,” he groaned through pauses in your mouths connection. “Missed you so fuckin’ much I couldn’t stand it. The second I got wind you were back, I couldn’t wait…had to see ya now.”

Your lungs begged for air, but you couldn’t tell him to stop as his free hand locked on to the back of your neck to force your face even harder against his mouth; he was trying to drown in you and you didn’t want him to stop, even with his roughness causing your lips to swell hot and sensitive from the pressure.

“God, sweetheart, how I’ve missed these fuckin’ lips,” he grunted in hushed whispers into your open mouth as his forehead rocked on yours. His cock was straining harshly against the zipper of his pants, tenting the fabric as he ground it into the muscle of your thigh. “Can’t stand bein’ away from ya at all anymore. I was in agony waitin’ for ya to return.”

Your chest tightened while your stomach plunged into your shoes; his need was overwhelming and intense as if it could swallow you whole and fuck were you ready to let it. Rough fingers squeezed down on your hand, using it as a way to ground himself to stop from being ripped apart with the strength of his desire. Your bodies were so close you swore he was trying to fuse you both together.

“Wish I had more time, I wanna suck on those fuckin’ juicy tits of yours so fuckin’ bad,” he groaned as the feeling of your breasts pressed against his chest caught his attention. “Been missin’ those too. Shit, I’ll be honest, there ain’t a part of ya I haven’t been cravin’ like crazy, baby.”

Acting off of pure impulse and adrenaline alone, you reached towards him with your free hand and latched on to his belt, pulling at the hindrance as if you could will it off without having to use any of the fine motor skills that you currently did not have access to as you slipped into that primal state of knowing nothing else other than to satiate the throbbing between your thighs.

Your fingers grazed the tip of his cock through the fabric of his pants and he hissed, his torso contracting from the intensity of that first contact; he had become engorged so quickly that it was painfully sensitive to the touch.

Ghost released your hand to reach over to your own belt, still enough faculty available to him to go about undressing you, though that was quickly waning as your own neediness fueled even more of his desperation for you. “I need ta be inside of ya, luv,” he breathed, resting up against the side of your cheek. “Need it so fuckin’ bad I can almost taste it.”

A light jingling hit your ears as he unlocked your belt from itself and let it fall loosely to hang in the belt loops as he moved on to the button and zipper, undoing them just as easily before everything was shoved down to the floor in one swift motion. His hand moved on top of yours still clinging to the band around his waist, guiding the unsteady fingers on your hand to make you undo the buckle yourself.

The backside of your hand pressed against the soft skin of his pelvis as you slipped inside the waistband of his pants to undo them and shit was he boiling. “Take it out,” he groaned as you got the damned button to release.

A jolt like an electrical current ran through him, shivering up the length of his spine as you plunged those silky soft palms within the confines of his pants and caught his rock hard member in your grasp. Unconsciously his hips bucked into your hand as you situated him so that he was now outside the fabric.

With your hand wrapped around the girth of his cock, you could not stop the urge to stroke the length of it. It pulsed and jolted against the skin of your palm as you worked it up and down and a tiny, almost imperceptible whimper escaped his lips as Ghost unraveled at your touch. All that pent up frustration that had plagued him for the past month and some change burst at the seams and he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Can’t wait; I have to make you cum, right fuckin’ now,” he said, the agony pervasive in his gravely, low tone.

Grabbing you by the hand Ghost drug you the short distance across the room to his desk, spinning you so that your back was to it. With his hand under your arms he picked you up and set you on the surface, not caring about the papers currently strewn about across the top that now lay under the padding of your bare ass.

Scooting so that you were at the very edge of the tabletop, you immediately spread your legs open wide, only wanting to feel him and not wanting to waste even a second more of time where you both were not connected. He took the invitation to move in, placing his hand on your sex to check how ready you were for him; there was moistness against his palm, but he wanted to be sure you were well lubricated.

There was no more time to wait so he would have to improvise just to be certain you were wet enough; the last thing he would ever want to do was hurt you. Gathering all the saliva he could in his mouth, he spit into his hand and quickly coated the area thoroughly. Your legs twitched from his fingers rubbing up against your sensitive clit as he went. “I fuckin’ swear we’ll do this proper later, just gotta be quick this time,” he reassured. “Tonight I’ll savor ya proper, sweetheart.”

Aligning his cock with your entrance those hardened fingers dug into your bare hips to steady himself as he thrust careful inside you. He watched closely as he slipped it in, his body shuddering as it reacted to him being wrapped fully in you down to the hilt. You whined as he stretched you to capacity, your pussy needing a minute to readjust to his size; it had been a hot minute after all since he had filled you this full.

“Goddammit, luv,” he groaned with a hiss, eyes clamping shut as he struggled to hang on to sanity, “don’t you ever leave me again. I don’t ever wanna fuckin’ miss this.”

Catching his cheek with your hand, Ghost opened his eyes to your touch and you pulled his face closer to yours. “Never if I can help it,” you breathed as you crashed your lips on his again; you needed something to make sure you stayed quiet as he began to forcefully thrust in and out of you, all that longing he had done in your absence culminating in his movements now.

It had only been a few short minutes of him pumping all he had into you, but he was already completely drunk off the feeling of your tight, wet core sucking him with voracity each time he rocked into it. His burning mouth stayed locked onto yours for a little longer, just to be sure you had a handle on the sound before he released it.

“Can’t stop… how much… I need ya…” he panted quietly between desperate thrusts. “Down so bad for ya… sweetheart.”

“Fuck, I was so miserable without you,” you admitted sheepishly. “My fingers are sore.”

The longing in your voice was palpable and Ghost could not get enough. “Missed me like fuckin’ crazy, didn’t you sweetheart?” he asked as his speed increased with new vigor at your words. “Missed what I do to this sweet little body of yours?”

You nodded, but that wasn’t good enough; he was hungry for more of your need of him to be vocalized. “Words, use them,” he demanded.

“Missed you so fucking much,” you whimpered as a twinge of pleasure shot up from your core through your body. “I am an absolute fucking mess without you.”

His lips shot to yours as you were starting to get loud again and though he hated to keep you quiet, it was a necessity in here. Half of him was of the mind to just let you be your usual vocal self, letting the whole fucking office building hear you taking him so well, and as much as his body burned for such a thing he knew in the long run it would be detrimental to your situation. The last thing he wanted was to ruin this by exposing the secret.

“Wish everyone in this fuckin’ office would just leave so I could enjoy your sweet little noises, luv,” he purred into your face as he released your mouth again. “Can’t get enough of your pretty music; my room’s been so quiet without it.”

Panting into his face with mouth open, chest heaving up and down with laborious breaths, Ghost put more into his thrusts so that even the desk itself began to rock with you from the force. The strength of his pumps made you feral, relinquishing any hold you had on civility as you would do anything to get more of the way his body fit into your cunt; it felt nice to be filled out by him again… you had grown far too accustomed with being constantly overflowing with his cock on the daily.

So wet, the sound of slapping skin against skin filled the silent space within the room, Ghost’s second favorite sound that you produced. It was like a round of applause for all his efforts, that he was putting in the right amount of work, and he pulled back to watch himself pump in and out of you. He hoped that someone would take him out permanently if he ever got tired of that sight, though he wasn’t worried about it as nothing would ever look better to him.

Taking the first two fingers of one of his hands he brought it to your clit, drawing circles with the pad of the digits over that overwhelmingly sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips bucked wildly at the extra bit of stimulation, slamming against his hand as your eyes rolled back with all that ecstasy flowing through your veins.

“Don’t stop, baby,” you begged, trying desperately to keep your volume at a reasonable level. “Gonna cum soon.”

Christ, those three words he had longed to hear for weeks now only fueled those strong thrusts and quick flicks of your clit. “That’s it, darlin’, fuckin’ come for me,” Ghost growled so desperately it made your brain numb. “I need to know your body still belongs to me.”

“Only you,” you returned without hesitation. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else baby. I can’t even get wet to anything but you.”

That beastly, towering hulk of a man shuddered at your proclamation, nearly spilling his seed inside you at such a beautiful phrase coming from your lips, but he would not allow anything to stop him from bringing about your release and so he focused everything he had left solely on you.

Keeping the pace of both his fingers and his cock at the same, precise speed Ghost watched as after a few more minutes your head finally flicked back and your thighs clamped down around his hips, a cry exploding out of you before you quickly locked your lips together to stifle the tail end of your ecstasy-filled exclamation.

Your cry is what did him in and he jerked violently as your pussy fluttered around him and he had to harshly pull out of you so that he could milk himself dry over top of your bare stomach. The sticky, hot fluid coated your skin with an amount more than you were expecting; clearly it had been a while.

Ghost looked back up at you, a contented, amused smile plastered to his lips. “Goddamn, luv,” was all he could say as he admired the beautiful flush in your cheeks and glazed look in your eyes, all a product from him.

It took him a second to find something to help clean you both up; a spare t shirt he had balled up in the bottom drawer of his desk would have to do. He took care of himself first before he moved to you, handing you the shirt while he went to gather your clothes. Waiting till you were finished cleaning off, he helped you to redress as your legs shook unsteadily.

The care he was taking with you now, it wrought to the surface just how silly you had been while you were away, thinking that he could have ever dropped you for someone else. You thought you had been slick, concealing your emotions from his discerning eye until you heard him speak.

“What’s that?” he questioned, causing you to look back up into his face.

“What’s what?” you posed curiously.

“That… look. On your face.”

You didn’t really want to say, you knew it was only an intrusive thought, but something about the way he stood gazing at you as if actively waiting for you to answer made you speak up. “It’s silly, but…” you paused; why couldn’t you just be honest with him? That man was just inside of you and yet this felt so much more intimate than that.

“Tell me,” he said, genuinely interested in the answer.

You swallowed hard. “Well, I was… worried you might have forgotten about me…moved on to someone else or something while I was gone. Wouldn’t have blamed you. I mean, needs are needs right?”

Ghost had already moved back in as you nervously laughed, both of those large hands cupping your face between them. Amber eyes stared back at you for a few seconds as if trying to read the meaning behind your words before he tilted his head to one side and leaned in to kiss you in such a way as he never done before: it was softer, but with just as much passion that you felt you might choke on it.

“I will neva forget about ya, luv,” he stated firmly as he broke the kiss, unable to hold back the string of truth that began spilling forth. “There’s no one ‘round here that could replace ya, absolutely fuckin’ no one. I don’t want some flaky tart that’s gonna get sick of my shit after a while or some dumb bimbo that talks a big game, but cannot keep up with me. I want you. Only you, understand?”

You nodded. “I only want you too, Simon.”

In all this time, you had never really used his name; perhaps it was too familiar for the type of relationship you both had together or maybe it was simple enough to stick to more formal monikers so that when not in a more intimate setting things wouldn’t get confusing. Whatever the reason was it didn’t matter anymore. Fuck did his name sound good being said in your voice; there was no going back from the shift that was happening here.

And maybe eventually you’d both be able to say it… out loud. For now, though, this was enough.

“So…” he said in hushed tones as he cleared his throat, knowing that you needed to head back soon and hating every bit of it, “you’re comin’ by later, yeah?”

You let out a small sigh and gave him a sweet, muted smile. “I believe you owe me more than just a quickie, so I guess so.”

Simon shook his head. “Fuckin’ hell,” he chuckled. “I guess off you fuckin’ go then before someone gets suspicious.”

And with another quick kiss you left him all alone in his quiet office to count down the literal seconds until he could be with you again. Hopefully, the rest of that day would go by fast, but the way his heart was beating, he didn’t hold out for a painless outcome.

Part 3:

[spicyllewyn]

Kinktober 2. - Thigh riding / teasing.

bbf! Jake Lockley x F!Reader

Tags & warnings. Thigh riding + teasing + age gap. (+18)

Word count. 2k

Summary. You hate your brother's best friend. Yeah, the one you are hooking up with.

Kinktober masterlist.

Jake Lockley was an idiot.

The biggest idiot you'd ever met.

He was an idiot when he yelled and clapped in your house as if it were his own because his favorite soccer team had scored a goal, he was an idiot when he put his foot in front of you as you walked pass by him as if he were going to make you trip, and he was idiot when he opened your fridge like he was part of the family.

He was an idiot when he slipped out of your brother's sight to bury his stupid fingers inside of you until you trembled, he was an idiot when he walked behind you groping against your ass on purpose, he was an idiot when he pushed you against the wall to devour your lips like a hungry man and he was definitely an idiot when he wished you goodnight with his beautiful smile before leaving.

But he was a bigger and dumber idiot when he pretended that all of this wasn't happening, and that for him, you were just his best friend's silly little sister.

You had heard him the night before, claiming that he had a date with someone 'hot' (his own words), one of those stunning blondes you see on TV according to your brother, so after understanding the message clearly, you decided that you wanted nothing to do with Jake Lockley anymore.

Although you had said that the last four times.

You were all furrowed brows and pouts without even realizing it. The third time he smiled at you, and all you could muster was a roll of your eyes, he started to worry.

He never liked making you mad. Or at least, not this seriously, because he definitely enjoyed pushing your buttons until you pushed him and your voice got all squeaky when you said, 'Enough, Jake!'

But ignoring him? That was a level he never wanted to reach.

When your brother left the apartment with the excuse of getting pizza for the three of you, he knew it was time to try.

He was sitting on the couch, his legs slightly apart, his back against the backrest, with one of his arms raised over it. It was a good view, but you were stronger than this. You glanced at him for about three seconds as you walked to the kitchen, in a way that seemed so quick that it almost appeared accidental.

"¿Princesa?" He questioned out loud, and you nearly dropped your glass.

Stupid, stupid Jake Lockley.

You didn't respond.

"Hermosa." he cooed again. The only response he got was the sound of ice clinking against the glass.

You took a sip, trying to ignore the fluttering in your stomach.

"You know if you don't come, I'm going to come get you, right?" Oh yes, you forgot how irritating he could be when he set his mind to it.

You planted your feet in place.

"I'm going to count to three." Oh no. "Uno."

You looked towards the door. You weren't a little kid; these things didn't work on you.

"Dos."

Besides, Jake wasn't your boss to order you around like this.

"Uno y medio."

You set your glass down and, as if your legs were on autopilot, you spun on your heel and walked out of the kitchen, earning an immediate smile from him.

Not a mocking one, not an annoying one, he actually seemed relieved to have a bit of your attention.

"Ah, there you are."

You stood still without saying anything, unsure of what to do.

"Come here." He patted his lap as an invitation.

You bit the inside of your cheek, pondering for a few seconds if it was worth it to lose your dignity like this. You also glanced towards the door, trying to calculate how much time you had before your brother arrived.

In the end, as always, you obeyed. You went over to him and sat sideways on one of his legs.

"No-oh," he shook his head, looking at you from his position, not touching you yet. "Face me." You had to get up again to turn around, his leg nestled between yours as you took your seat again, facing him.

Even if you didn't want to notice it, it was impossible not to feel that delicious pressure against your cunt. And as if by magic Jake brought both hands to your hips, pressing them with his fingers as if you were going to escape his grip.

"What's wrong, huh?" He leaned in just a little to meet your gaze. You hated that there wasn't a hint of teasing in his expression; he genuinely seemed concerned as you crossed your arms and furrowed your brow.

Why were guys so dense? And stupid.

When you didn't respond, a small smile crept onto his face. He made you jump slightly on his thigh as he moved his leg, and a little gasp escaped you. His hands slowly traveled from your hips to your waist.

"You’ve been all grumpy and stuff since I got here, what’s wrong?"

"You should ask your supermodel date."

Ah, bingo. His smile widened.

"She's not a model."

"I don't care what she is."

"Actually, she is..." "I don't want to talk about her." "She's imaginary."

You looked back at him with a furrowed brow after a few seconds. Did he expect you to believe that?

"Ah?"

"She doesn't exist."

"I know what imaginary means."

"Are you sure? I can spell it out for you if you want."

"You're an idiot."

"And you're jealous." His fingers resumed tracing your sides, deciding that your hips would indeed be their resting place. "And you're acting like a brat."

Your expression softened just a bit, but you still wouldn't look at him.

"Look at me while I'm talking to you." His voice was barely a whisper as he leaned in just slightly to seek your gaze.

Nothing made you want to scream until you collapsed a lung more than how stupidly handsome Jake Lockley was. His lips seemed like an eternal invitation to kiss him until you got tired, his chocolate eyes that seemed to dilate when they settled on you, and that one stubborn curl he always fought with, the one that fell onto his forehead for you to move out of the way.

You had joked before, asking him if he wasn't secretly Clark Kent.

Your body responded automatically, leaning in to seek his lips, but he pulled back with a smile.

"Do you think you deserve it after the way you treated me?" His voice was sultry, smooth.

"You're the one talking about other girls." You whispered back with a cute pout on your lips. "Please."

"Please that?"

“Please let me kiss you.”

“Nope.”

Your pout grew bigger as his fingers gave you a squeeze. You didn't understand where he was going until he started guiding your movements, a slow back-and-forth sway that brought a gasp from your throat.

He wasn't going to tell you out loud that he wasn't going to agree to a make out session that threatened to leave him with a boner when your brother arrived.

“I don't like it when you ignore me, princesa.” This time it was him who granted you a pout, his leg lifting a little higher as if he wanted to bury it between yours.

The pressure was stronger and you felt how your juices were beginning to moisten the fabric of his jeans. Your hands were placed over his on your hips and you rested your feet on the floor to have better control over your movements.

Back and forth, slowly.

"Sorry." You whispered breathlessly, your eyes boring into his as he enjoyed the blush on your cheeks.

Jake knew how to play, but you were always a good opponent.

You closed your eyes while biting your bottom lip as you pretended to ride his leg. He could only imagine how delicious it would be to just take you there on the couch.

With your hands on his, you slowly guided them up your body, rising them to your breasts.

You made him squeeze your tits and a louder moan came out of your throat.

“Fuck.” You whispered as the pace of your hips increased. The friction of the fabric of your panties against Jake's pants created a delicious heat in your already sensitive little pussy.

You knew without looking that your skin would already be red.

“That's how you like it, princesa?” He whispered, his gaze fixed on you as if you were a work of art.

Your lips were parted for mostly, except for when you bit the bottom one from time to time to allow yourself to hiss, your cheeks flushed and your eyes closed, brows slightly furrowed now for a completely different reason than a few minutes ago.

“Look at you, so wet and desperate for me.” His thumbs delicately traced your nipples over the fabric of your dress, they were now noticeable because of how hard he had made them. “You miss me fucking you with my fingers, don't you, mi amor? That’s why you’ve been acting like such a bitch to me.”

Stupid Jake Lockley with his stupid voice with his stupid accent and his stupid way of making you go crazy.

You nodded submissively, your body leaning forward until you could rest your forehead against his. Being able to look at your begging eyes closer was something he would thank you for later.

“W-Why…” You stammered, taking a deep breath. “Did you invent a girlfriend?”

He chuckled. You couldn't leave the subject alone, could you?

“Because everyone is asking questions about it.” He kissed your lips briefly, almost making you beg for more. “For my parents, I am now single forever.”

This time you laughed. The rhythm of your pace didn't stop and you were both so close to one another that Jake felt the touch of your tongue when you licked your lips.

“That can be solv… A-Ah, Jake. Mhm, s-shit.”

Your little hole started to clench around nothing, you were so close you could feel your entire body tense, Jake's hands working on your boobs in the way he knew you liked.

He was so obsessed with pleasing you that you hadn't even gone to the next level, he had promised himself to do it until he perfectly memorized the things that drove your body crazy.

“Are you close, princesa?” He was staring at you, he was craving watching you cum. “Are you going to give it to me?”

You nodded awkwardly, the couch squeaking with the clumsy and desperate way you moved. Your skin was beginning to tingle, a growing heat pooling on the bottom of your abdomen, you were about to make a mess on Jake's leg.

Until of course, a pair of keys clanged against the door.

He pushed you, you stood up as quickly as you could, pulling the hem of your dress to accommodate it, still dizzy from the pleasure and how abruptly it stopped. Your vision was blurry and your chest rose and fell rapidly trying to stabilize your breathing.

"Pizza." Was the only thing your brother said as he dropped his keys to the side, lifting the two boxes in his hand.

Jake covered the wet spot on his pants by placing a pillow on his lap.

“Is she bothering you, Lockley?” He joked, giving you a push that almost sent you to the ground. Not exactly because of the force, but because you were still with your legs nailed to the ground, pressing your thighs together to seek some relief.

“Not at all, she's the one who has to deal with me.” He muttered with that same darn smile on his face.

When your brother walked into the kitchen and the two of you were alone, even if it was just for a few seconds, he looked at you and you looked back at him.

“I'll go to your room in a few hours.” He whispered, nibbling on his bottom lip with what you could identify as eagerness.

You nodded, turning on your own two feet to head to the kitchen as well, biting your bottom lip too, trying to hide your smile.

Tag list. @ninebluehearts @shousha133 @unear7hly @onefinnedwonder-fm @automnepoet

Remember to comment if you want to be on the kinktober tag list!! <3

[saturnsorbits]

Always a Groomsman

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warning: Angst (A Touch), Smut, Exhibitionism, Reader Smokes, Kaminari isn't a Hero Anymore, Brief Mention of Addiction etc. Word Counts: 5.4k.

Summary: A wedding, what a wonderful place to reunite with the one that fucked you and ran all those years ago.

The light is already dying by the time you finally manage to slip away from the reception and make a B-line to the back of the tent. Your feet are killing. The whiskey helps the pain, but even whiskey can't numb everything.

'Oi.' Bakugo catches your elbow, stopping you just short of freedom.

'Where are you going?'

'Need some air.'

Flicking up his eyebrows, he offers you a smirk that tells you he's not buying your bullshit. 'So it's got nothing to do with that then?' He hooks a thumb towards the dance floor and the drunken silhouette of Kaminari Denki He's curled himself around a bridesmaid, hand pinching the silk over her hip, lips hovering barely an inch above her neck as she threads her hand through his hair.

You chew your lip and lie. 'No.'

'C'mon... Just talk to him, you know you want to.' Bakugo's eyes widen suggestively.

'I think he's too pre-occupied to talk.' Something bubbles in your stomach as you watch Kaminari whisper in the woman's ear and you quietly shift your gaze so you don't see what happens next.

'You know he's only over there because he thinks you're mad at him, right?'

'I am mad at him.'

'It's been years.'

'He fucked me over, Kat...'

Bakugo's gaze hits the floor. It's not like he's forgotten what happened. 'I'm not taking his side but -.'

'No.' You raise your hands, palms flat in the air to stop him. You know what he's about to say. You've heard it all before. 'You've got guests to entertain and I am literally going to explode if I don't get some air in the next minute.'

Rolling his eyes, he plants a kiss on your cheek and uses his new proximity to whisper in your ear. 'He'd make a pretty groom, that's all I'm saying.'

'Oh, fuck off.' You manage to swat his shoulder only once before he's turned on his heel and returned to the mess of wedding guests that whoop and roar when he re-emerges into the fray.

The cold hits you as soon as you duck under the edge of the tent and step out onto the small deck. Instantly, you pull at your shoes and hiss as your feet are forced to straighten against the wooden floor. Before the throbbing in your soles has settled, you stagger off, limping towards the tall rail separating the deck from the field beyond.

It's a nice night, cold, but nice. In the sky, stars burn on a back-drop of navy, their blanket only broken by the soft, red blinking of the odd satellite or plane. The music from the tent floats out and lingers in the air, leaving you with enough space to actually think for a second.

You'd been overjoyed to watch Bakugo finally get hitched to Kirishima, but almost all of that excitement had died when you saw Kaminari. It had been almost ten years since the night he'd kissed you outside of UA, since you'd stumbled up the stairs to his dorm and let him be the first to touch you. He'd pretended as if it had never happened afterwards and you'd taken the hint.

A few months later, you'd moved south and he had stayed. He hadn't even shown up to your leaving party, despite both Sero and Kirishima telling you he'd be there.

But, all of that was in the past, or at least you'd thought it was until your eyes had grazed his as he stood beside the alter as Kirishima's best man and you'd felt a forgotten affection swell in your stomach. Sighing, you fiddle with your clutch bag and remove a half-full packet of cigarettes from within. You flip open the box, pluck one from inside and pop it in-between your lips before diving back into the clutch to search for a lighter. Rummaging for a second, you come up empty.

'Shit.'

'Need a light?'

The voice makes you shriek. You jump, stumble over your shoes and just about manage to catch yourself on the rail. Hand falling to your chest, you can feel the hammering of your heart through your skin.

'Am I that scary?' He snickers.

You squint, trying to make out his edges in the low light. Your eyebrows furrow, then lift as you focus on the man in front of you. He looks good, better than the last time you'd seen him: A scrawny shadow of himself pictured in a double page spread of a gossip magazine, something about heroism, drugs and a sex scandal printed in bright ink above it.

Flicking your eyes up to his, you're glad to see the spark has returned to his eyes. An old, but familiar shiver runs the length of your spine and suddenly, your stomach fills with motion. 'You... You look good.'

'Yeah?' He holds open his blazer, allowing you to get a full look as he slowly spins on the balls of his shoes and pinches at the skin of his stomach. 'Hero weekly says I'm chubby now.'

You're tempted to lie, to tell him that he's looked better, but you don't. 'No, you look good, healthy. It suits you.'

Something in Kaminari's chest stutters and he has to swallow the spit pooling in his mouth before he speaks again. 'Light?'

You pause. 'You don't mind?'

His face breaks into a smile, perfect and shining. 'Nah, don't even crave the things any more.' He misses out the bit about having enough nicotine patches on his chest and arms to stop a bull.

You concede. There's a comfort that comes back almost too easily, like the past finally catches up with you. It dampens the fire in your stomach, leaving you clutching at the anger that had grown inside of you since that night. You lean forward, letting him cup his hands around the end of your cigarette.

His hands shake when he tries to make a spark. It takes one, two, three times of his thumb coming down on the wheel before it finally catches a light and he can step back to a safer distance.

'It's still the same one, doesn't work as well now though.' He mumbles flicking the cap of the lighter. It's silver, with a chipped yellow lightning bolt painted on the front of it.

If you looked close enough, you're sure you'd be able to find the rough scratching of your entwined initials, engraved by his shaking hands at fifteen.

You breathe in, savour the burning of smoke as it infests your lungs and exhale. Turning, you rest against the rail and look back out over the field.

'So – you're -.'

'Sero said -.'

You both start up at the same time, the constriction of the silence around you forcing you both to attempt to fill it.

'You first -.'

'No, you – go on.' You encourage, arching an eyebrow.

Kaminari swallows. His heart thrums violently, threatening to deafen him, but he's just hoping that you can't see how bad his hands are shaking, how he can feel sweat beginning to bead his forehead. He's not an idiot. He knows how he left it, what you must think. As soon as Kirishima had asked him to be best man he’d felt his guts begin to twist and turn. The idea of seeing you again set his veins on fire. You cough and pull him back from the edge of his thoughts.

'I – uh...' He can't think. You're too close, too real and suddenly, his tongue seizes in his mouth.

Another beat of silence nestles its way into the conversation and you can't take it. You switch the conversation. 'Ei said you're going to work with Aizawa.'

He takes a deep breath and prepares himself to look at you, but it still doesn't stop the air being stolen from his lungs when he finally does. There's a flourish of nostalgia in his stomach and he swallows a grin. 'Yeah. He, uh, he sought me out. After all the – the, y'know, rehab and all that, he thought I'd be a good fit.'

'Yeah?' You raise your eyebrows. Kaminari's fall from grace had been far from undocumented. There had been barely a week that he hadn't appeared in some sort of magazine, his eyes dull and another questionable entourage in toe. Another one night stand, a model spotted having cocaine snorted off her tits; wherever there was chaos, Kaminari had followed.

'Yeah... We're, uhm, we're already working with a group of kids in UA. They got caught up in that villain attack down town. We do these workshops were we like pretend to be pro-hero's...'

Smiling, you raise your eyebrows. There's light in his voice, something you've missed and something you're keen to hold onto.

He snorts. 'No, I know, I know, but we pretend to be...' He shoots you a cheeky glance. '… Current... Pro-hero's doing interviews and talking about our experiences and stuff, y'know like it's miles away. Helps to sort it all out in your head, picture a future were it isn't all still hanging over you. There's this one kid, absolute firecracker... He stopped the whole fucking building collapsing before they could get everyone out, has a pretty nasty scar to thank for it too, but he does the most flawless impression of Bakugo it's almost scary.'

You bat at his arm instinctively and freeze as your hand wraps his bicep. For a second it's all too easy to forget you're not still teenagers clinging onto youth with both hands. 'That looks good on you too.'

'Huh?' He swallows before moving his hand to cover yours on his arm. His skin prickles when you don't pull away. It's hard to forget how it all ended. How he'd been too naïve to tell you how he felt, how he'd bit his tongue for months after he'd summoned the courage to finally kiss you and how he'd tried everything he could to run from the violent storm of emotions that had been released in his stomach that night.

It hadn't worked.

Avoiding you hadn't worked, neither had sleeping with other women or pretending it had never happened.

You lean into him, tightening your grip and the warmth of your skin reminds him that he's not the scared teenager he used to be.

'Helping kids, working with Aizawa...' You giggle, relaxing into his presence at last. 'It looks good on you. You light up when you talk about it... It's nice. Haven't seen you look like that since...' You chew your lip. 'Listen...' It's impossible to read him. His jaw is set, eyes facing forward as the cold begins to chap and redden his cheeks and you have to fight to push away the thought of how beautiful he still looks. 'I know you're only out here because Bakugo told you to be.' The accusation slips off your tongue too easily as the past rears it's head.

'I'm not – it's -.'

'You don't have to lie to me.' You offer him a broken smile, a truce of sorts.

'I really screwed up, didn't I?' He chuckles, letting smoke drift from his nose and mouth before turning to you.

'You did.'

There's a lapse in the conversation and he takes his chance. You're peering up at him, your eyes filled with the embers of something he hopes is affection and he dives in. 'Do you remember that night... Outside the school when... When, we -.' He feels stupid. The words lodge in his throat and refuse to move, forcing him to stop and haul in a breath. You'd think after all the talking therapy he'd be better at it by now.

He battles through, after all – he doesn't know when he'll get the chance to see you again.

If he doesn't do it now, he never will.

'When we slept together?' You sigh then tilt your head and finally give in, resting your head against his shoulder. Part of you wonders why he's brought it up, the other part isn't sure you care. Right now, you're just happy to bask in him. You've missed it: him. Even with the history between you. 'You don't have to apologise. I get it.'

'What do you mean?' Kaminari stammers.

'Well, It was a mistake, right?' It's a question disguised as a statement, but you don't give him time to answer before you're already trying to soften the blow yourself. 'We were young and people sleep together all the time, it's not a big deal. I just -.' You puff out your cheeks, finish your cigarette and drop it to the floor, letting Kaminari crush it with his dress shoe. 'I – I guess I just expected us to... It doesn't matter, you didn't want it and I respect that, just, it was just a hard pill to swallow, I think.

He takes another lungful of cold air, hoping the shock will calm him. It does, but only until he cranes his neck to look at you again. You're looking back up at him, your eyes wide and questioning, pupils blown out through darkness and alcohol. His gaze lingers on the soft pump of your lip and he's almost knocked over by the rush of memory that reminds him you used to taste like strawberries and smoke.

He wonders if you still do.

'It's not like that...'

You swallow. 'What was it like then?'

His voice is a whisper when he finally admits what he came out her to tell you. 'I was scared...' His thumb ghosts the back of your hand. 'I'm still scared.'

'Denki...'

'Yeah?' He's vaguely aware of the fact that he's unable to tear his eyes away from your face, but he's too caught up in the feel of you pressed to his side, where you belong, to care.

'Don't start saying things like that.'

'Why -.'

You lick at your back teeth, fighting annoyance. 'Not now. Especially not when there's a bridesmaid wondering where you've got to in there.' You hook a thumb back towards the tent.

'I'm not – we're not, we're not together or anything...' He's stumbling, making a mess as usual.

You roll your eyes. 'You don't have to lie.'

'I'm not lying.'

'I saw you all over her.'

'Dancing – we were -.'

Chewing at your lip, you sigh. 'It doesn't matter.'

'No.' He takes hold of your hand, squashes his own on top of yours and pins you as best as he can without forcing your fingers to entwine. 'It does.'

You swallow. 'Why now?'

'I – uh -.'

'Why not then?'

'I was scared.'

'You know...' You slip your hand from under his and fold your arms across your chest. 'It hurt when I realised that I was just another fuck for you, but it wasn't as bad as loosing a friend Denki – We were friends and you just fucking ghosted me. No explanation, no apology, you could have just fucking ignored it and I would have let things go back to normal, I would have just -.' You're crying, kind of. Tears well in your eyes, but you're refusing to let them fall. You've spent too many tears on him already and your make-up took almost an hour to do.

'I was a fucking idiot, I was scared and – and -.'

'I think I'm going to go...' You nod, swatting away his hand when he reaches for you. 'It was nice seeing you.' Turning, you're ready to make a short dash through the tent, ready to be as far away from the constricting air of the deck.

'No. Please. Please, don't go – not again, I just. Fuck.'

A hand wraps your wrist, pulling you back just enough that he can slip in front of you blocking your escape. 'Den - Kaminari.'

'Just let me, let me get this out. Okay.' He's pleading when he looks up at you, but he can't let you leave, not without at least trying. 'I was a fucking idiot. I was so scared that you'd hate me, that, that I'd be a bad boyfriend, or you'd move away and I wouldn't be enough, that I'd be too busy with work, or it'd be too much and I – I let that get the better of me. I was already falling apart, even back then and I didn't – I didn't want you to have to see it, to put up with it. You, fuck, you deserve so much and... That night...' He hauls in a breath. 'That night was one of the best nights of my life, not, not just the sex – just being with you and I – Well I did fuck it all up, didn't I... Look at the state of me - I couldn't, I couldn't have dragged you through all that.'

'Oi.' You fix him with a stare. 'Don't go blaming yourself, not for what you've been through - or how you've dealt with it. Never, okay... And for what it's worth, I would have gone to Hell and back if you'd asked.'

His jaw ticks, but when he turns to face you there's something almost thankful in the shine of his eyes. 'I'd never ask.'

You chuckle. 'I know. You wouldn't have had to. I've have done it anyway.'

He swallows.

You roll your lip between your teeth and bite down. 'So you liked me... Back then, I mean. When we – I wasn't just, just another girl that you...

'We both know I did.' He licks his lips. 'I was a fucking idiot, I -.' His eyes widen as he struggles to find a word to summarise the years that have elapsed between you and leaves him out on a limb.

'Do you still...'

He nods.

'And if, if it were to happen again, you'd want that?'

'More than anything.'

'And you wouldn't run away?'

'Only if I was chasing you.'

You smile, straighten and curl your body into his. 'Then...' You whisper. 'Kiss me.'

He does. Wrapping a hand around your neck, he lets his thumb rub at the softness behind your ear as your lips meet again for the first time in years.

Things go quickly from there...

It's overdue. A coming together that both of your bodies have longed for, for far too long. He kisses the same, with lips that are a touch too dry and a hunger no-one else has ever been able to match.

You have a mind to stop him, have a mind to stall his hands as they press to your chest and seek out the stiff peaks of your nipples, but you don't. Instead, you let yourself be overcome. Your hands find his belt. It's almost too easy to do, to unclasp the buckle and yank it clear of his suit pants. You cast it aside and are surprised when he doesn't seem to care where it lands.

He pushes you back, urging you further and further away from the wedding still raging inside and towards the scant privacy the deck can offer.

Although, it's more than obvious that neither of you care.

Each touch is electric. A build of emotion that had crystallised, now dissolving into your hands and dripping through your fingers. It's rough and needy, desperate, but more than that, it feels right.

'Here, quick.' You pull at the lapel of his suit jacket, yanking him impossibly closer.

He misreads the signs, twisting and turning as he attempts to wriggle from his jacket and slip it from his shoulders.

Tugging it back into place, you shake your head. 'No time, just...' You let your hand slide down his chest, feeling your way across the expanse of him before slipping your fingers into the waist of his suit pants. '… Come here.'

Kaminari moans as you make quick work of his pants, shoving them eagerly half way to his thigh. 'Don't need to tell me twice.' He chuckles, using what little air remains in his lungs to whine as your fingers graze over his hardening cock.

You tease for barely a second longer before taking hold of him and squeezing.

'Fuck.' His head rocks back on his shoulders, eyes rolling to the skies as he sinks into the feeling of having you again. 'I've missed you. Shit.'

You chuckle and lean in close, pressing your chest to his as you lick at the shell of his ear. 'Have you missed me or just my hand?'

Immediately, he pulls back. His hands wrap around your elbows as he holds you at arms length. He looks comical, with his pants clinging to the thin at the end of his thighs and his grey boxers almost dyed black, stained with pre-cum as his cock pulses in its confines, spilling more desperation onto the fabric. 'I really have missed you...'

Stooping to catch your eye, he raises his eyebrows and offers you a smile. 'You. Not the sex, not anything else. Yo -.'

You barely let him finish his sentence before you're breaking from his constriction and pressing back into him. 'I've missed you too...' Biting his lip, you ease the sting with a kiss. 'But, we really don't have a lot of time and I'm so fucking wet I -.'

He whines against your mouth. 'Can – Fuck, let me taste.'

'Maybe later.'

The idea of later makes his blood sing, but the sound of the party still raging inside quickly refocuses him on the task at hand. 'Think I can make you cum in five minutes?'

'Oh.' You squeak when his hand pinches at your ass. 'I fucking hope so.'

'Challenge accepted.' Grinning from ear to ear, Kaminari presses back until you bump against the wooden railing of the deck. His hands roam across your body, squeezing and nipping at everything he can reach. Reaching up, he takes hold of the strap before pausing. 'Can I?' Or will this rip?'

'It'll be fine... Just -' You push your chest out, helping as best you can as Kaminari pulls down the front of your dress to expose you to the air.

The cold air forces your nipples to pebble immediately, the lip of your dress forcing your breasts to sit high and pretty and in perfect reach of Kaminari's wondering hands.

He cups your chest, thumbs brushing over your nipples until you squirm. If he had time, he'd savour this. He'd crane his neck, bow to your beauty and take one of those hardened rose buds into his mouth. He'd taste your skin, savour the salt and lick effortlessly over you until your cries became the background noise to his dreams. Licking his teeth, he looses himself to the feeling of you filling his hand. The fat of your tit spills through his fingers as he squeezes, earning another breathy gasp from you before turning his attention to other areas.

'Denki...' You're breathing heavy already, your chest heaving as Kaminari takes his pleasures feeling every inch of you. His hands sink, exploring. He pinches at your ribs, skates over your ribs and grips your hips before landing a firm smack against your ass. 'Denki, please... Fuck, c'mon, I need -.'

'Yeah?' His pupils have blown when he looks at you. Rings of gold struggle to keep them in check as hunger threatens to swallow them whole.

You nod, helping him yank up your dress until it's bunched up around your hips. Shivering against the cold, your knees knock together as a wave of vulnerability suddenly washes over you. You're freezing. The arousal trapped in your underwear cooling by the second, even as your cunt burns to be touched.

'Fuck...' Kaminari's hand sinks into your underwear the second it can. His fingers brush across trimmed pubic hair before petting, gently, at your clit.

You moan, bucking into his hand as he slips further and brushes his fingertips across your entrance. Bringing his hand back up, he presents his hand to you in the air. Your arousal shines on his skin, the glittering light from tent making it shimmer as he widens his fingers, leaving sticky strings to hang between index and forefinger.

He admires the shine. 'You're so fucking wet.'

Nodding, you reach for his wrist to pull it to your mouth – tasting yourself and cleaning his skin, but before you can, his tongue darts out of his mouth. He collects your slick like a delicacy and moans as your sweetness hits the back of his throat.

'Denki, I can't wait anymore... Please -.'

Kaminari wastes no time. In a moment, he has himself freed from his boxers, his cock hard and twitching against your stomach and your leg hooked lazily over his arm.

You tug aside your underwear yourself, exposing your cunt to him fully. There's no time to waste. Something primal eats away at your insides, something you're sure will only subside once he's seated inside of you. Your fingers itch, one hand playing with the strays hairs at the base of his neck as you look down and watch as he guides himself into you.

The initial push makes him hiss. You're tight. Tighter than he remembers as your walls wrap around him and clench. Locking his jaw, he hauls in a breath through his teeth and wills himself away from embarrassment.

Feeling him twitch helplessly inside of you, you grasp him by the lapel and pull him close until your nose touches his. 'Don't you dare. Not...' He gives you another inch, making you gasp and roll your hips. 'Not yet, don't fucking -.'

'Don't worry, baby. 'm not, not gonna.' Holding onto his sanity with his fingernails, Kaminari pulls back his hips and grinds back into you. The rhythm he sets up is uneven at best, but still, each thrust causes his cock to rub directly across the sponge roof of your cunt making you whine and cling.

Lips finding his neck, you litter him with lust. Your teeth find purchase, biting down to stifle the moans bubbling in your chest as he continues to fuck you, bottoming out each time in an effort to give you everything he has.

'You're gonna leave a mark.' He speaks through gasps, his pace stuttering as he continues to try and please you. The muscle in his thighs shake, his hands struggling not to clamp down on your waist as he pushes through the pulsing of his balls that threatens an early end.

You chuckle, revelling in the goose-flesh your breath leaves in its wake. It's intimate, setting a fire in your stomach as you pull back enough to catch his eye once more. You smile. 'What? Don't want your cheeky bridesmaid side piece to see?'

His pace falters. 'I don't.'

'Denki, baby... I'm joking.'

The pet name hatches butterflies in his sternum. They bump against the bone, tickling his organs and making him feel like he could float six feet from the floor. Not for the first time, he curses his own previous cowardice for stealing away all the pet names the past could have gifted him.

Bringing your foreheads together, you pant, breathing in each others air for a moment.

It's always felt like a cop out to call him 'The one that got away'. The title had never fit, no matter how much you'd wanted it to – or wished at one point and yet, right here, now, you wonder how you'd ever even brought yourself to think of him like that. 'Denki... Denks.' He hums, transfixed by a look he'd only been able to imagine in your eyes. 'What – what do you need. Tell me.'

You chew your lip, muttering. 'I'm never going to cum like this.'

'Ah.' His eyes light up, a shock of understanding zipping through him.

It might have been years, but he remembers every second of that night you spent together. He remembers you quaking, remembers how you'd looked on your hands and knees, thighs shaking as your spine curved deliciously, your ass bouncing as you rocked yourself back on his cock desperately. How could he forget?

Slipping out of you, he pulls back only enough to lay his hands on your waist and spin you.

You twist, dizzy and grab hold of the railing to steady yourself. Instantly, you're up on your tip-toes, back curved as you wait, pretty and presented. Anticipation lances through your legs making holding yourself up difficult, but it's all worth it when you feel him stretch you open and slide home.

Not giving you a second to adjust, he sets a blinding pace, spurred on by the memory of what it had felt like to have you fall apart around him. The fingers of his right hand dig into the flesh of your hip as the other slides up your back and takes hold of your neck. He grips, leaning over you to whisper, hoarse, in your ear. 'Touch yourself... Touch yourself for me, show me how good you feel, baby.'

You obey. Slipping a hand between your legs, you spread your fingers to feel him rutting into you for a moment. The skin of his cock is silk soft and slippery with your arousal, grazing the sides of your fingers as you shift and finally, begin to rub at your clit.

'Fuck...' Kaminari's grip on your hip stutters, growing light as he feels you tighten up around him. 'Go – Good girl. Shit. I'm not – not gonna last, I -.'

You don't need him too. In a few moments, you feel the telltale rush. Your cunt aches, clit pulsing as your orgasm threatens to reduce you to your knees. With your eyes rolling back into your head, you struggle to keep circling your clit, but Kaminari's fingers replace yours without you asking.

His movement is clumsy, but he manages to fuck you through your high either way. 'Holy, holy fuck... You feel, feels so – fucking Hell.' Stuttering, he struggles through, pouring his focus into you as you milk him relentlessly, bringing him closer and closer to his own end. With a tight chest, you reel back, glancing over your shoulder.

Kaminari's face is flushed, his cheek bones brushed with a pink that makes him look boyish and young. The edge of his mouth is twisted, a cause of his teeth gnawing at the inside of his cheek and his jaw is clenched, bringing out the cut line of his jaw.

He's close. You can tell. The thought thrills you, your cunt tightening on impulse as you await your prize.

'Where, fuck, fuck... I can't cum on your dress, you're – you're gonna have to move, or, or -.'

Reaching back, you grab at the edge of his suit jacket and pull at him, forcing his hips against your ass. 'Inside.'

He doesn't get a chance to think, his body makes the decision for him. His balls tighten, pulsing as he cums, emptying himself inside of you. Curling over, he presses a kiss to your shoulder, teeth scraping against the exposed skin as he pours himself into you, pumping you full.

With your stomach full and his lips grazing the base of your neck, you relax into a bone-deep kind of satiation you'd not felt since that night. It's surreal. Absurd as you come crashing back to reality as realise that the party has begun to quieten inside of the tent.

He's still dripping out of you when you hear the high pitched whistle cut through the air.

Kamiari turns. Tearing his suit jacket from his shoulders, he drapes it over your hips, covering his own mess.

'You two made up then?' Sero's smile is blinding. His hands are dug into his pockets, thumbs poking out over the material as he shrugs himself into his shoulders. He's plastered, his hair mattered and a mess as it falls from its bun, but even the alcohol making him stagger doesn't put a stop to his mischief.

Kaminari panics. His voice is still breathless, shaking slightly from the force of the orgasm that had almost had him seeing static. He should have made you cum quicker, shouldn't have slowed down the way he did. Fuck, he should have asked you to come back to his hotel. You deserve better than a quick, forgive me fuck outside of a tent in almost freezing temperature. He curses himself and cringes. 'How long have you been stood there?'

'Long enough to be pitching a tent, you guys don't fuck around huh...' He chuckles to himself. 'Well, I guess you do but -.'

Struggling with your dress, you can't help the smile that breaks your lips when Kaminari shields you and helps get your tits situated and hidden once more. Stepping from behind him, you slide a hand down his arm and twist your fingers in his. Hoping this time he won't run away. 'What do you want Hanta? We're just about to get out of here.'

Even if you had been trying to miss the smile that brightens Kaminari's face, you wouldn't have been able to. He re-adjusts his jacket, now slung over your shoulders and squeezes your hand tight.

Sero chuffs. Still too drunk to know better. 'When I first came out here I just wanted to smoke, but now I'm thinking of asking to watch.'

Reaching down, you pluck one of your heels from the floor before turning and throwing it headlong at Sero's head.

He ducks, laughing as the shoe goes wide. 'That a maybe then?'

'Hanta...' Kaminari whines, but Sero is already backing away holding his hands up in a mock surrender.

'Woah, woah...' A cheeky smile tugs at his lip, bringing his left dimple out in a way that only happens when there's real mischief up his sleeve. 'I guess now would be a bad time to tell you that the lights out here cause a pretty solid shadow to be cast on the side of that tent then, huh?'

The colour drains from both of your faces. 'No...'

Sero's eyes shine as he reaches into his pocket and removes his phone. 'I've got a video of it if you don't believe me...'

-> Masterlist

[luvrhischier]

hi! can you do a friends with benefits with trevor, where you’re out with friends and dancing with some random dude and he gets jealous and admits he has feelings for you, and obviously you (we) do too! 🤭

jealousy, jealousy // trevor zegras

pairing: trevor zegras × reader

word count: 2.4k

a/n: strayed from the request (only the tiniest bit), another one that jumps between povs

a/n 2: feel like it’s similar to my other fics but it was requested so

warnings: alcohol/drinking

(you)

Yesterday’s game had been rough. A few unfair calls, more fights than usual, and a lost at the end. Trevor said he needed to go blow off some steam so him, Jamie, and a couple of the other guys were going out. Trevor always invited you out with him, even when he wasn’t really supposed to. 

The two of you were laying in your bed. Both naked from the activities that had taken place only minutes ago. No, the two of you weren’t together, you were just best friends and roommates who occasionally hooked up and maybe you felt something more but you’d never never be the first to admit that. 

When he asked you to go with him he had to beg you to come, you told him you had some assignments to catch up on but he gave you those stupid puppy dog eyes and pout and you instantly caved. 

That’s how you found yourself getting ready to go out. When you went out partying you always loved to get dressed up, it was fun and made you feel amazing. As you looked through your dresses you found the one you had recently bought. It was a little tighter than your other dresses and a lot shorter. This was the perfect opportunity to break it in. 

From the bathroom, where you were doing your hair and makeup, you heard Jamie and Trevor walk into your room and fall onto your bed. Nobody said anything, there was just a comfortable silence. 

“The Uber is gonna be here in 5,” Trevor finally broke the silence. You made one last finishing touch before walking out of the bathroom. You still didn’t say anything to either of them, and they were too lost in their phones to notice you. You walked to look at your shoe options. You couldn’t decide.

“Guys, which one? These or these?” You faced them and held up two different pairs of heels. For the first time since they had walked into your room they looked at you. Both of their jaws dropped. Jamie quickly closed his mouth then looked at Trevor with a smirk.

“That’s new,” Trevor stuttered. You smiled, surprised that he noticed. 

“Yes it is. Do you like it?” You asked, doing a spin to show the whole dress. Trevor just quickly nodded his head. “Now, which pair?” You asked again. 

Jamie finally looked back at you and at the shoe options. Trevor was too busy checking you out to help. Thankfully, Jamie wasn’t. With a nod you put on the one he chose. Right on time the Uber driver said they were here. 

You sat with Jamie on your left and Trevor on your right. Jamie and you were the only two talking. Trevor was silent, he just stared out the window. You placed your hand on his thigh and felt him tense up making you quickly pull your hand away.

“Are you mad at me?” You asked, genuinely confused as to what was wrong.

“No, not at all,” he said with a forced smile. You weren’t really convinced but you let it go. You nodded before going back to your conversation with Jamie.

When you finally arrived at the club you all got out and Trevor paid and thanked the driver before turning to you and Jamie. He walked to the door, still not really acknowledging you. You looked over at Jamie and he just shook his head and rolled his eyes. You sighed before following. 

They led you to where the rest of the group was. After greeting each other you made conversation with some of the girls, from the corner of your eye you could see Trevor trying to act like you weren’t there. You needed a drink. You turned to Jamie.

“I’ll be back.” You walked away after he nodded his head. When you made it to the bar you smiled at the bartender. 

“Hey, what can I get you?” He asked. 

“I honestly don’t know,” you laughed as you looked at the little laminated menu. He chuckled back and leaned forward on the bar. 

“This one is really good if you’re looking for something sweet.” He pointed. “And this one is really good if you’re looking for something strong.” 

“Surprise me,” you smiled as you looked up at him. Your faces close but neither of you pulled away.

“One surprise coming right up,” he smiled, finally leaning back to make your drink. 

You watched in awe as he made your drink. You felt your cheeks heat up as you two playfully bantered. When he was done he placed it in front of you.

“What’s in it?” You asked as you looked at the drink in front of you.

“You sat here and watched me make it,” he laughed.

“Yeah well I was a little distracted,” you blushed. He just smirked and looked at the drink.

“Just try it.” He leaned forward on the counter, not as close as before but still close enough that you could see that he had freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose.

“You went with sweet,” you said after you took a sip.

“Seemed appropriate.” He winked. 

“Now,” you paused and looked at his name tag, “Andrew do you flirt with all of your customers?” You joked as you took another sip.

“Only the cute ones,” his face scrunched up. “God that was so fucking cheesy I hated that.” 

You laughed.

(him)

“Guys, which one? These or these?” He heard you ask.

When he looked up and saw you in that dress he felt the air being knocked out of him. His jaw dropped. From the corner of his eye he could see Jamie’s do the same before he quickly composed himself and looked over at him. He could see the smirk on his face and he wanted to punch him. 

“That’s new,” he stuttered. He knew every single one of your dresses by memory and this one he had never seen, and it wasn’t like any of your others. This one was shorter and tighter.

“Yes it is. Do you like it?” You asked sweetly as you spun around. He couldn’t say words, he could only nod. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep his feelings a secret. He was only broken from his trance when he heard his phone alert them that the Uber had arrived.

You sat to his left and he couldn’t look at you. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, he wanted to more than anything he just knew that if he did he’d break. He chose to stare out the window instead. 

He felt you place your hand on his thigh. It was simple and innocent but still he tensed. You quickly pulled away.

“Are you mad at me?” You asked

“No, not at all,” he forced a smile. He hated that he was making you think he was mad but he didn’t know what else to do. You just nodded and turned back to Jamie. He knew this night was going to be difficult and he didn’t know if he was ready for it.

When you all arrived at the club everyone got out as he quickly paid and said thank you. When he turned he just looked straight ahead and walked in, maybe if he ignored you he’d be able to ignore the growing feelings inside of him. 

Quickly he greeted everyone before grabbing one of the unopened beers on the table. He didn’t look at you, even when he could see you looking at him. Finally, he saw you walk away and he felt like he could breathe again. He looked over at Jamie and Jamie rolled his eyes before pulling him over. 

“Are you gonna sit here and ignore her all night?” He asked.

“I’m not ignoring her,” he lied and Jamie only scoffed

“Are you gonna stop being a pussy and tell her how you actually feel?” He looked over at you before turning back quickly.

“Dude I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“I’m talking about how you’re in love with her and have been for awhile now,” he casually responded.

“What are you talking about? Me in love with her?! No!” His tried to play it cool but he failed, tremendously. 

“Okay so if I told you that she’s over there flirting with the bartender you wouldn’t care right?” 

He quickly snapped his head to the bar so hard that it hurt but he didn’t care. He saw as the bartender handed you a drink before laughing at something you said. Was that a smirk on his lips? Why was he leaning in? Why was he winking at you? What did he say that could have made you laugh like that? He didn’t like any of that at all. 

He turned his head back around and felt his body heat up. 

“Nope I don’t care. She’s just a friend,” he lied once again.

“You’re so full of shit,” Jamie scoffed. “Can you please just put us all out of our misery and just admit it so we can end this whole pining situation?” Trevor needed to go clear his head.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” he muttered. He set his beer down and for the first time he realized just how tight he had been gripping it. He made sure to not look if your direction as he passed by. 

(you)

You honestly didn’t know how long you had sat here talking, but you didn’t mind. You were enjoying his company. The only pauses in your conversation was when Andrew had to go help another customer. 

“Would it be completely inappropriate to give you my number?” Andrew asked when he returned.

“No, it wouldn’t.” You watched as he searched for a pen and grabbed an unused napkin. Quickly he wrote his number down before handing it over. You looked it over before setting it back down, hoping not to lose it. Before you could continue the conversation you felt someone walk up right next to you. You looked up and saw Trevor. You rolled your eyes before looking back at Andrew.

“What can I get you man?” Andrew asked politely. Trevor didn’t say anything he just looked down at the napkin with a phone number on it. He picked it up before turning it over to clean up a small spill.

“What the fuck?” You gasped. When he turned the napkin back around and saw that the number was smudged and illegible he smiled.

“Yeah, can I just get another beer,” Trevor looked up at Andrew, who also couldn’t believe what just happened. 

“There is plenty extra ones at the table so go get one of those,” you said through gritted teeth. 

“I don’t want any of those,” he shrugged simply. He had no right to be acting like this. You hopped off the stool.

“Andrew I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I’ll be right back.” You grabbed Trevor’s wrist.

“I wouldn’t count on it Andrew,” Trevor said. You tugged him harder. When you made it outside you were glad the streets were almost empty. You dropped his wrist harshly before turning towards him with your arms crossed. 

“What the hell was that?!” You asked annoyed. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said like a child. You scoffed in disbelief.

“Yes you do. I was having a good time with Andrew and you walked over and ruined that.” He rolled his eyes when you said Andrew’s name.

“Oops.”

“If you’re going to act like a child fine whatever I don’t care just leave me alone.” You walked past him to go back inside.

“He’s not good for you,” he said loudly. 

“You have no right to say that. You didn’t even properly talk to him. You acted like a dick.” You turned back around. “First you ignore me in the car and then you ignore me inside and when I finally start having a little fun and I’m really getting along with someone you come over and interrupt!” 

“I couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t what?! Acknowledge me? Let me have some fun? Last time I checked Trevor we weren’t exclusive.”

“Yeah you don’t have to remind me,” he whispered hoping you didn’t hear, but you did. That’s when it hit you. You smirked and Trevor rolled his eyes. “What?”

“You know I always knew you were the jealous type.” You stepped closer to him. He gulped. 

“Me jealous?! I’m not jealous,” he stuttered. 

“Oh so if I went back in there and got Andrew’s number again you wouldn’t care right?” You pointed behind you and took a few step backwards. 

“Nope,” he squeaked. 

“Okay cool I’ll be right back.” You turned but before you could even take one step he stopped you. 

“Please don’t,” he pleaded. You turned to him.

“Why not?” 

“Please don’t make me say it,” he whined. 

“Say it,” you needed to hear the words come from his mouth.

“You know I’m not good at this stuff.”

“I need to hear you tell me why you don’t want me to go back in there. I need to hear you say it so I know it’s real.” You walked up to him. You grabbed his hand and you felt him relax. 

“I don’t want you to go back in there because I don’t want you to flirt or go out anyone else,” he paused and looked you in the eyes. “I don’t want because I want us to be together. I love you, way more than a friend,” his voice was low but you could tell he meant every word he was saying. He closed his eyes, not know how you’d react to his confession, preparing himself for the worst.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words,” you smiled softly. His eyes shot open. 

“If this is some sick joke it’s not funny,” he said in disbelief. 

“Do I look like I’m joking?” He looked at your face and saw nothing but adoration. He let out a sigh. “This is the part where you kiss me,” you joked. Trevor wasted no time. His lips were on yours in a heartbeat. Both of you smiled into the kiss. Finally you both pulled away. 

“Can we please go home because if we go back in there I might end up punching Andrew in the face,” he said as he placed his forehead against yours. You giggled, knowing he was only slightly joking.

[arcanefox207]

The Wolf You Feed (Part 4)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Word Count: 8.1k

Part 4 / ? (Ongoing) A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T

Summary: Set in a fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter.

Chapter Warnings: ANGST. Smut. POV-Switching. Rated Explicit. 18+ MDNI. See series masterlist for complete warnings.

A/N: This one is gonna hurt. I’m so sorry.

You get ready for bed and eye the flannel that you stole from Joel’s house. You hold it close to your chest and breathe in his scent that still lingers. 

You strip down to nothing but your lacy panties and don his shirt. You precariously drape it off your shoulders and look at yourself in the mirror. 

Joel would love this. 

Your hair is still damp and messy from your shower but you look clean and bright. The I’m positively smitten glow you have makes you radiate. 

You position yourself on your bed perched on your knees with your legs spread open. You adjust the shirt just right to hang over your shoulders and around your breasts, just barely covering your nipples.

With your phone positioned slightly above you, you snap a pic while making your most innocent face. Your full body is in the frame and perfectly teasing with your frumpy shirt placement. Your sluttiest black, lacey panties also help to conceal just enough to be a tease. 

You: Getting ready for bed

You attach the photo and send it. You sit back on your heels and eagerly watch for the read receipt. He is quick to reply.

Joel: Goddamn

Joel: Beautiful

A brief pause. 

Typing. Typing. Typing. 

Joel: Got any more?

Your heart skips a beat. You absolutely want to give him more. 

You: Maybe

You sit back and let the flannel shirt drape open, fully exposing your breasts and your hardened nipples. You sit more upright, and grab a fistfull of your hair and gaze up to the camera, looking a little deranged and lustful. You eye your photo before sending it, impressed with yourself. 

Sent.

Joel: Fuck

Joel: Look at them tits 

You smirk as you imagine him losing his mind and hope he is as horny as you are. You feel your heat begin to surge inside. You feel so needy for his cock.

You: Your turn

You weren’t too sure what to expect or if he would even play along but after a minute you got your answer.

The photo he sends is so poorly taken, it is endearing when you get over the disappointment of not having his dick perfectly photographed. It’s dark and grainy. You can just make out the navy blue sheets under his skin to deduce he is in his bed too. His black t-shirt is pulled up just slightly and his hand is what's mostly in focus, holding onto his cock that is peeking out of his flannel pajama pants. He is pulling his foreskin down tight making the head of his cock flush with color against his skin.  The shadowiness makes his happy tail look even thicker and more unruly than what you have seen.  

Nevertheless, it is undeniably Joel. The flutter you get inside that you only ever felt from him.

You: Joel, how naughty 

One more photo, he earned it. 

This time, you let the shirt fall off completely to your hips. You slide one of your hands into your panties and hook your thumb over the edge to pull them down. You make a “V” with your fingers and press yourself apart so your swollen clit is in full view. With your free hand you snap one last picture and send it. This one is more focused and does not show your face, but it certainly was an eyeful. You doubt he would even be looking elsewhere.

Your message is instantly read. After a moment Joels typing comes and goes until it stops completely. You wonder if he is touching himself. Hope he is touching himself. You impatiently rub your fingers against yourself while you wait, aching at the thought of him.

Your screen changes to an incoming call from Joel Miller. 

Of course you answer it as calmly as you can.

“Hey, Mr. Miller.” You greet him with a flirty tone.

“Mmm what are you doing to me, baby girl.” He speaks low and sounds relaxed and groggy. You wonder if you woke him up when you sent the first pic and kind of hope you did.

“Just getting ready for bed and thinking about you.”

You hear him make a breathy acknowledgement and you know he is stroking himself just by how he is breathing. You feel bolder and more daring talking to him on the phone. You can be a tease and he can’t do anything about it. 

You put it on speaker so you can have both your hands free.

“Wishing it was your fingers on me.” You lay back on your bed and slide your fingers over your clit until a moan escapes you. “Or your cock.”

“Mmm. Keep going,” he growls low. 

Even on the phone he has to be bossy. His voice cuts straight through you. Always so commanding but spoken with a warmness that makes you melt. 

You slide a finger inside your wet and needy cunt and use your other hand to tease your clit. 

“Joel…” you rasp his name low as you moan. “How hard are you right now?”

You hear him chuff quietly. 

“Bout ready to come, sweetheart.”

His shallow breathing and occasional grunt cheers you on. Your hands are so inadequate compared to his. You need to be filled by him. Want his rough hands putting friction in all the right spots.  

You fumble with your nightstand drawer for your dildo. His ears pick up on the creak of the wooden drawer opening and he stops you in your tracks. 

“No toys.” His stern voice commands. “I want you to get off with your fingers.” 

You can hear his grin on the other end.   

“... and beg for my cock.”

That wouldn’t be hard to do. You already are screaming inside for him to put you out of your misery. Your performative moans are now all too real.   

“Joel… fuck.” You whine but bring your hand back to your opening and press inside with two of your fingers while you massage your clit. 

His authoritative demands empower you. Hearing him breathing, groaning and barking orders at you makes it a lot easier to get yourself to the edge. Despite how tiny your hands are in comparison, your mind fills in all the gaps as his voice penetrates your ears. 

“I want you to fill me,” you whine.   

“Mmm. Gonna make a mess of me.” He sounds haggard. He has been holding back his own release for sure. The thought of making Joel Miller come undone over the phone is intoxicating.

You moan and your breath hitches as you can feel yourself teetering on the edge. Pleading to release.

“Joel…” You whimper. Begging. 

“Come for me, baby.” His commanding tone returns, beckoning you to do as he asks. 

“Let me hear you. Come for daddy.”

You gasp at his words. That was never something you thought you were into. It went straight to your pussy. Your walls flutter around your fingers as you replay his words in your head. You do come for him, hard, and let him hear you climaxing over the thoughts of him inside you. 

“Mmmm.” He groans low as you ride your climax high and let your desperate sounds tip him over the edge.

His labored breathing and raspy moans pick up and you know he is coming.   

He goes silent and You can just imagine him laying in his bed with his cock in his hand, pumping himself until he comes over his knuckles. Spent and sticky. 

A moment passes as you both breathe heavily catching your breath. Enjoying the moment with one another and relishing in the aftermath of your shared experience.   

“Such a good girl.” He praises. “Now, get some sleep.” 

You roll your eyes. As if sleeping was going to come easy at this point. 

“Night, sweetheart.”

“Night… daddy.” You smirk to yourself, amused and satisfied, and hang up. 

You were pretty shocked to see Joel in your driveway come the next morning. He was scraping ice off your windshield and there was a fresh tossing of salt and sand on your walkway. There was some freezing rain overnight, unbeknownst to you. 

“Hey, you really don’t have to do that for me.” You call out as you lock your door and make your way down the path. 

“I know.” He scrapes at the last bits of frost. “Still gonna.”

You brighten at the way he says it. Feminism be damned, it felt really good to have this man looking out for you.  

You were looking real cute in your Bean boots and beanie. Acting a little more timid compared to your late night activities. 

You shoved your hands in your jacket pockets and walked over to your car with a cutesy spring in your step. Joel tried to hide his disdain for your carefree jaunt down the icy path. Still, he looked so handsome in his brown suede coat and his relentless refusal to wear a winter hat. Always wielding that power to make you melt in his presence.

“Thank you.” You smile at him as you approach him at arm's length. “Still not giving you the shirt back,” you tease.

“Don’t want it back.” He holds back a smirk and quickly looks you over. Reliving last night's photos, you can imagine. You suppress a wicked smile imagining him saving them in his main album like a heathen.

He takes a step towards you and with his gloved hand he gently holds your chin and brushes his thumb over. You note the subtle way his eyes soften. His longing stare makes it feel like he isn’t going to see you for a long time, and it lingers. He drops his hand and puts it on his hip. His other hand fidgets with his leg like he is unsure what to do. 

“I’m not gonna be around for a little while” He hesitates and looks like he wants to say more and you pickup that something is off. Something he still has decided you are not privy to know about. Whatever has been bothering him the past few days is still weighing on him. “I got some stuff to take care of and I’ll be real busy.”

“Ok, Joel.” You don’t give away that you think he sounds suspicious. Guilty even. You want to press him, but you let it go, again. You open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off.   

“I’ll call you, alright?” His voice is firm, there is no room for questions. 

“Alright.” You force a smile and he nods and heads to his truck. It was hard not to take that as asking you not to bother him. He wasn’t being unkind in his tone, but he wasn’t being truthful either.  

You can’t shake the feeling that something is off. 

You are dragging your feet at work. After your late night fun with Joel your mind was wide awake and you had trouble sleeping. 

Marlene is extra bubbly today. She is riding the Friday wave and you are grateful she takes on more of the customer facing role while you just work mindlessly making endless orders of lattes and cold brews. 

“So, do you wanna?”

“Huh?” she had been talking to you, apparently. 

“Do you want to go out tonight?” 

“Oh. Yeah, ok.”

“You sound really interested.” She says sarcastically while she stares at you and crosses her arms.

“Sorry, just tired. Yes, I’d love to.” 

“Good. Meet at Copper’s around 8? They are doing all night happy hour and open mic.”

“Sounds good.” And it does sound good. Something to do to keep yourself busy and it’s better than going home and watching Netflix by yourself. You have no idea how long Joel is going to be occupied and Marlene is the only other person you would consider a friend since moving there. It would be nice to spend some real time with her outside of work. 

“Its not the classiest place, but the crowd is good. Dress slutty and maybe we can get some free drinks.” Marlene jokes, but you have every intention to dress like a knockout and have a good time. 

When you walk in it becomes obvious you are overdressed. Many eyes were on you. You stuck out and had a lot of attention, some unwanted, but it also was flattering. Your choice of black minidress was conventionally good for a night of drinking and letting loose, but less practical once you walked through the door and saw what you were working with. 

Copper’s was just a few notches above a dive bar and significantly less upscale than the late night Boston clubs and speakeasy’s you frequented. It was mostly crawling with locals, many of which you recognized from Grind. Despite that, the energy felt good. Friendly faces lit up when they saw you and even more cast some not-so-conspicuous stares at your body when they thought you were not looking. 

The expansive bar wrapped around the back wall and there was a small stage on the wall across from it. High tops and tables filled out most of the middle with little room to do much more than sit and socialize. Get drunk off beer and cocktails and fat off appetizers and hot wings. The whole place was a little chaotic and rough but it felt cherished. It embodied that small town feel that was brought to life by the patrons. 

Marlene walks up to you with some sort of fruity cocktail in each hand. Dressed much more casually than you with a high waisted denim skirt and a low cut band tee. 

“About time you get here. Damn, girl!” She looks you up and down as she hands you the drink. “You don’t play around.” You share a laugh, and relish your new, unexpected friendship. 

The cocktail is overkill on the sweetness but the vodka hits you hard when you take a sip. 

“You didn’t tell me this place was a dive!” You tease. 

“Well it’s the only bar we have open year-round so don’t knock it.” She pretends to scold you.

“I’m joking. This is perfect.” And it was. 

You and Marlene make quick work of your drinks as you float around the bar. She introduces you to new people and you get friendlier with familiar faces. The bartender flirts with you when he learns you are new to town and you indulge in some harmless fun. 

The bar is quickly filling up and you think it must be a fire code violation at this point. You buy the second round of drinks and take a seat while you still can. Laughter and the high from your buzz set you on the right path and you are filled with gratitude for your new friendships and your new home.

[Joel POV]

Joel fiddles with his empty beer bottle, unsure what the hell he is doing. Tess should be arriving any moment now, and he is no closer to ending things with her. 

He has his guitar in tow, stowed against the wall. He perches himself in the very last seat, enjoying some solitude while the bar slowly starts to fill in. 

He raises two fingers at the bartender and signals that he is ready for another beer. The bartender returns a moment later with a fresh Budweiser.

“There he is!”

Joel spins on his bar stool to the familiar voice. 

“Hey Frank. Bill.” He nods to them as Frank slaps his back enthusiastically and sits down next to him. 

“Been a while. Tess coming too?”

“S’posed to.” Joel takes a swig of his beer and doesn't give them much of an opportunity to ask more.

Bill sits silently on the other side of Frank, orders two beers and slides one to Frank. He never was one to talk much compared to his counterpart.

“Well, we have missed you. It has been at least a month since we have seen you.” Frank turns to Bill, urging him to converse a little. They were all old friends, but Tess was the one that tended to be the glue between them. 

Bill nods in agreement. “Ain’t like it used to be. Not missing much.” Joel keeps to himself, staying mostly quiet while the other two make small talk between themselves. They know Joel well enough to recognize when he is in a mood and to give him space. 

Tess walks up to the bar shortly after and throws her arms around Frank in surprise.

“Hey Stranger!” She turns to Bill and does the same thing but he is much more reserved. She intentionally makes him uncomfortable with an embrace, making Frank laugh at his discomfort. 

Joel turns his body so his legs are back under the counter and sips his beer. The three of them chatter for a few minutes while Joel broods.

“They are going to start soon. Lets grab a table before they are all taken.” Frank was already buzzed and it made him even more eccentric.  

“I’m fine right here.” Joel declines. 

“Alright, well join us if you want to later.” Frank taps his shoulder and shuffles off towards some tables closer to the stage. Bill follows behind after giving a silent nod to Joel and Tess and lifting his beer to gesture goodbye. Poor Bill was not one for going out and socializing, but he did it for Frank. 

Tess takes Frank’s seat and hails the bartender right away. She notices it's not their regular guy and isn’t too impressed with him making her wait. A silence looms for a few moments. The air is awkward and tense. 

“Two shots of whiskey.” She requests and glances over at Joel as the bartender pulls out two shot glasses. Joel nods in agreement. 

“Wasn’t sure if I’d see you tonight.” Joel is the first to speak.

“Likewise.” Tess says sharply but follows up softer. “I’m glad to see you.”

The bartender finishes pouring the shots and pushes one to each of them. They knock them back.

“Look, I meant what I said.” Joel sounds like he is reassuring himself as much as her. 

“I know.” She retorts. His eyes find doubt in her words. “Jesus, Joel, I know. Can’t we just have some drinks? Don’t be such a sour puss.” 

Joel scoffs at her words. He pushes his empty shot glass away and taps near his glass when the bartender walks closer. He pours another round. Joel and Tess knock back a second shot. It isn’t nearly enough to help him deal with his issues but it does help him lighten up a little.

Tess leans against Joel's shoulder and presses her hand onto the top of his thigh. She always was a lightweight, and had no problems coming on to him. No doubt she had pre-gamed before coming out, same as Joel. 

“Why can’t it just be like this?” she traces a circle on his leg and moves her finger closer to his groin. He shifts his leg as she grazes his zipper. 

“Nothings’ ever easy with us, Tess.” Joel pauses and puts his hand over hers. Reluctantly he peels her hand away. “We don’t want the same things anymore.”

“You don’t want this anymore?” She slides her hand back over his zipper this time with more force and she feels him twitch under the denim. She strokes her fingers down his length pressing into his seam. He stifles a groan and stirs in his seat.

“Tess..” His words plead her to stop, but his body reacts to her touch as it always does. Betraying his good intentions. Their attraction for one another was never in question. It just made things a whole lot more complicated. It was hard for him to resist her advances, and he wasn’t even sure he wanted to. She wasn’t exactly cooperating with his poor attempts to resist either. 

“‘Course I do.” He looks at her, wantonly and holds her gaze. He pauses and chooses his words carefully. “But it’s not enough.”

She was observant of his reaction, calculating what sort of leverage she had left with Joel. She could see his genuine anguish and was reminded too well of the circumstances that brought them together in the first place. She never said it in all those years, not once, but she did love him. 

“We can make it work… we always do.” Tess tries to reason with him, but she has defeat in her voice. 

“It’s too late for us, Tess.” Joel reaches a hand out to the side of her face and gently holds her. She removes her hand from his lap and wraps around his forearm and covers his hand with her own, leaning into his touch. The moment is intimate and despite a room full of people it felt like they were the only two. The unspoken love between them was always there as a thread to keep them together. This was not ending because the love was gone, it was ending because it had no more room to grow.  

He could see that she was finally accepting what he was saying. At least she was trying to. He brushed his thumb over her cheek and reassured her with his touch that his feelings for her were not lost, but he was not going to give into them anymore. 

“I need a clear mind.” He locks eyes with her as he takes his hand back. “I’m playing tonight.”

“You are?” She pulls away, surprised and easily distracted with the subject change. She looks down and eyes Joel’s guitar case leaning against the bar. “Singing too?” Joel nods. This feels familiar and comforting. 

“Well I’ll be damned.” Tess’ smile fades and expression softens, filled with sadness. A realization that they had moved away so far from where they used to be. A silent moment lurks but it is not unwanted. It gives them both time to think. 

“I never asked you for anything.” Tess utters quietly. Joel nods in agreement, silently reliving all the things he loved about her. Still loves about her.

“Never had to.” Joel gives a gentle side smile. Their eyes meet. Eyes that are intimate and mourning all at once. Hopeful and nostalgic. 

He was always going to love Tess. 

She stands to interrupt the silence and reaches for his hand to follow. 

“Lets find Bill and Frank. I wanna sit with them while you play.”

“Alright.”

Joel leaves his guitar at the bar and follows close behind her. The room is getting more and more crowded by the minute. The first act is wrapping up and switching over to another singer. The bar is alive with excitement. 

Following Tess into the crowd his heart drops. There you are, just a few tables in front of him, sitting at a hightop with Marlene. Dressed incredibly sexy with your short dress and your cropped leather jacket. Knee high boots and your hair flowy and free. He wished he could take you right there and have his way with you.  

You looked so happy. So unaware of what was about to happen. Innocent and at peace.

Tess grabs his arm and pulls him towards your table, excited to see you and Marlene and she makes a beeline to say hello. 

You shouldn’t be here. His brain screams and his heart races. His chest gets heavy and tight as he inches closer to your table, unable to stop the encounter. It was too late. You had already noticed him approaching when Tess called your name and you saw him in tow.

He should have told you from the start, but he didn’t. Even if nothing had happened with Tess since he started falling for you he was well aware how this was going to look.

He was finally making some progress with Tess and couldn’t risk that getting ruined. At your expense, too. There was no other way. 

And he knew right at that moment he was the biggest asshole in the world.

[Reader POV]

You turn your head as you hear your name being called out. You see Tess first and just towering behind her is Joel. It was impossible to miss him with his broad shoulders and brooding scowl. For a brief moment, you light up to see him when your eyes catch his.

He was a sight to behold. Wearing a button up navy blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up on his tight forearms. Jeans hugging his body and perfectly accenting his burly frame. His hair was also slicked back and styled like he gelled it fresh out of the shower. The moody lighting masking his silver streaks more than usual. He looked absolutely delicious and it made you ache for him all over again. You had just put him out of your mind too. It didn’t take much to stir up those feelings again when your desire for him was relentless and insatiable. Your heart races, fueled by your longing. 

Until you realize they are together. 

A wave of dread washes over you. Joel immediately looks away from you in a panic, confirming your fear that something is wrong. He won’t look at you but you can’t take your eyes off of him and ignore everything else around you.

“This is my new star employee. She’s wonderful.” Tess lights up talking about you and playfully bumps into your shoulder. She is babbling on but you have no idea what she is saying because you aren't listening to her anymore. Too preoccupied with figuring out what was happening. Questioning why Tess was introducing you to the man you had been fucking for the past few weeks. The man who had naked photos of you on his phone. The man you were hopelessly besotted with. 

Joel’s eyes glance up at you and for the first time ever he looks sheepish. He holds his hand out standard and practical. Emotionless like it's a formal business greeting. 

“Joel. Nice to meet you.” You stare, dumbfounded by his words, spoken so nonchalant. 

Nice to meet me? 

He holds his hand out firmly, waiting for you to take it. His eyes plead with you to go along with it. You lightly grasp his hand. His fingertips drag tenderly as he pulls it away, as if they were apologizing. You say nothing but force a pathetic half-smile. 

Tess clearly having one too many drinks hangs off of his shoulder and bumps into his hips. You try to hide the confusion and disgust on your face. Joel refuses to look at you again after your introduction.   

He doesn’t reciprocate her energy at all. He looks like a lost dog. Uncomfortable and out of place. She seems oblivious to it, but you are dead focused on reading him to get some answers while she carries on talking. He is a stone wall, giving you nothing.  

Marlene says something in response and the two of them laugh but you can’t hear anything but muddled voices over the loudness of your thoughts. 

Joel nods at whatever she says but is silent. He looks so distant like he wants to shrink away. Guilty and cowardly. 

Every piece of your being wants to scream. What is going on? You don’t want to assume anything. Maybe they are friends and you are overreacting.  But then why wouldn’t he have said something sooner? Why did he pretend not to know you? Why won’t he even look at you? The questions keep piling up and your stomach is in knots.

“Come on, Joel.”  She hooks her hand around his arm to pull him along. You’ve never seen him act so submissive. “See you girls later.” 

As he brushes past you he catches your arm when no one is looking and he gives you the softest brush with the back of his hand. He tries to be inconspicuous and whispers in your ear as he passes.

“I’m so sorry.” His words stab you. They sound sincere and painful but offer no comfort or answers. 

As Joel and Tess disappear into the crowded room of people, Marlene is quick to notice you are in your head but brushes it off as being a little drunk. 

“God they are annoying.” Marlene shakes her head and takes a sip of her drink. You hear her talking, but still not really listening. You are preoccupied watching Tess take a seat a few tables away and see Joel make some brief small talk and wander off in the direction of the bar. 

They didn’t look romantic, at least not from his angle. Are you just overreacting? The alcohol is probably just making you paranoid. You hate how insecure he makes you feel. The reality is that the more time you spend with him the harder it is to be apart. He was unlike any man you had ever been with on so many levels. He made you feel so needy for his attention, and jealous that he was with Tess in some capacity, instead of you. You feel foolish. 

A singer briefly performs a song and the room gets loud again as voices rise between sets. You are silent and disassociating with everything around you, unsure if it's the buzz from the alcohol or your serotonin working overtime to calm you down. 

“You ok?” Marlene asks.

“Yeah…”

Marlene prys. “You don’t look ok.”

It was obvious from that awkward moment earlier that she knew Joel. You wanted to spill and tell her everything and pick her brain, but your suspicions made you question where her loyalties may lie. You had never told her who your neighbor was and now you felt trapped and alone with this secret.

“I just need another drink.” You laugh and play it off coolly. “Gonna grab one at the bar, be right back.”

As you walk to the back of the room you take note of Tess still sitting at the table and talking to a few guys. It looks like they are familiar and catching up. Joel is standing at the crowded bar at the very end, mostly tucked away and probably how you missed seeing him sooner because you weren't looking for him. Against your better judgment you approach him.

You squeeze into the space next to him and try to keep a little distance from him, but your bare thigh rubs up against his leg as you step in and the person to your left pushes into you. He stays facing straight ahead and doesn’t acknowledge you, except to move his leg from its wide posture. His scowl works overtime to keep his composure. He takes a sip of his beer.

You hail the familiar bartender with your empty glass. He winks and goes to make you another. Drink three and he already has your order memorized and was probably hoping to get your number.  

Joel stares him down as he walks away and you could have easily mistaken it for jealousy. The irony of it, as your harmless flirting was nothing compared to his potential relationship with your boss. You needed answers, whether or not Joel wanted to disavow you.

“You wanna tell me what the hell that was about?” Your voice is a little shaky, wavering through your anger and confusion. 

“I owe you an explanation.” He nods, still staring off ahead. 

You pause, waiting for him to say more, but he doesn’t. Your eyes bore into him and his ignoring you is making you fume more and more. You try to read him, and see the subtle changes as he gets more and more frustrated that you are not getting the hint to leave him alone. 

“So… explain?” You push his chest, try to pry the information out of him. His jaw tenses. Glowering and annoyed. His calm facade being chiseled away by your incessant need for answers. 

Joel looks at you with cold eyes. Sad eyes. Eyes you do not recognize. He recoils at your touch. Makes you feel like a dirty secret. He tips back his beer and downs the rest of the bottle. 

“Can you please fucking say something?” You beg. You are annoyed at how he is acting. He was clearly frustrated by your being there and that anger was festering by the minute. 

“This isn’t the time.” He says unphased by your request.

The bartender interrupts you to hand you your drink and gives Joel the side eye, no doubt noticing how prickly he was and how much your demeanor had changed from earlier. 

“What are you staring at?” Joel snaps at the bartender. His intimidating tone was low but it was threatening. His misplaced anger was looking for any way to escape. 

“Relax, bud.” He puts his hands up in a submissive gesture and backs off.  He glances back over to you but you look away and don’t make eye contact with him again.

“She ain't’ interested.” He threatens and somehow makes himself look even bigger. The bartender nods with a knowing smile that might as well say ‘not worth the trouble’ as he grabs Joel’s empty beer bottle and moves on. He wasn’t interested enough to contest with Joel.  

You hate how much it turns you on to see him get protective over you. His mixed signals were giving you whiplash. You suspect and even hope that his lashing out and acting this way is just a tactic to get you to leave the matter alone for now. It wasn’t going to work with you though. You were not afraid of him or intimidated.    

His fingers curl over the counter and he flexes them, agitated. He taps his fingers in a rolling motion and pushes himself away from the bar with the heel of his hand. 

“You should go home.” His words hurt and are spoken with finality through dark eyes that penetrate you. “We’ll talk about this later.” 

“No.” Your brows furrow at the audacity. “I want to talk now.” You demand. 

Joel ignores you and pushes past you to get to the back hallway. He makes you feel insignificant and like you are just an obstacle in his path to walk around. It makes you even more angry.

You tip back the bulk of your drink dangerously fast and follow him. There were so many people, no one was really paying attention to you and Joel, so why was he acting like this?  

You stumble down the corridor to the bathrooms, instantly regretting your choices to drink so recklessly. It makes you feel gross and desperate that you have to chase him someplace so dark and secluded.

With his back to you he balls his hand into a fist and knocks on one of the bathroom doors with enough force to startle anyone in earshot. Someone inside yells that they need a minute. 

He puts a hand on his hip and the other drags down his face as he paces and turns towards you. He knew you would follow. He fans his hand out in your direction, pleading with you to let this go. 

“I said later.” His words sound tired from your persistence. He looks you up and down and you see something else in his eyes. Behind the anger, the hunger for you is still there.

“Joel.” Your anger starts to cool when you see how agitated he is. Afraid that you are just making everything worse. Maybe you should just leave this alone until later. You could be making a scene over nothing. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” he speaks slowly and deliberately, trying to keep himself calm. You try to hold it back but you can’t stop the tears from welling up in your eyes. Impatiently he bangs on the door again and an angry yell returns, calling him an impatient prick. 

“I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight.” You are not sure why you are the one defending yourself here. You feel the room spinning and reach to brace yourself on the wall before you stumble. The alcohol and the adrenaline of being afraid to lose Joel was just becoming too much.  

Joel reaches out to you and grabs your wrist to steady you. He leads you a bit further down the hall, and just at the end is a small and dark alcove with storage boxes. You can still hear the loudness of Copper’s echoing through the hallway but at least it feels more private. Trashy, but discrete. 

You back yourself against the wall, feeling overwhelmed by everything and your anger vanishing into nothing but hurt. Joel stands across from you with his arms crossed. He takes a deep breath.

“Listen. This ain’t got anything to do with you. Ok?” Now is your turn to respond with silence. You have a thousand questions but no words manage to come out, instead a tear drops down your face. You wipe it away quickly but he already noticed it.

“Sweetheart.” He closes the gap between you and holds your face in his hand, wiping his thumb over the wet trail on your cheek. You look up at him with glossy eyes and he looks pained to see you so upset. “Please don’t.”

You feel foolish crying given the real probability of infidelity. Still, you lean into his touch, craving the contact with him that he had been denying you. Soaking in his warmth and pushing the negative thoughts as far away as possible.   

He presses up against you, pinning you against a stack of boxes. It is reserved but still so sensual. He pushes your hair behind your ear and combs his fingers through it, smelling your sweet scent mixing with his woodsy, pine cologne. 

The heat from his cock feels so good against you, and you can feel him harden slightly when you push your hips into him. Even through tears your body can’t say no to Joel. His body towers over you and makes you feel calmer being in his clutches.    

He sneaks a hand up the side of your leg and slips it under your dress. You feel his breath hot on your neck as he kisses you there. His scruff scrapes against the soft meat of your neck and makes you come undone. He presses his mouth into you, hedonic and greedy. 

His thumb slides under the thin straps of your panties and he draws circles on your hip bone, dancing dangerously closer to your center. He doesn’t cross the threshold, and with restraint he slides his hand around to your hip over the top of your dress. He presses his forehead into yours and holds you there for a brief moment, relishing having you in his grasp.

As soon as the heated moment starts it fades and Joel takes a step back, holding you at arms length. With a desperation in his eyes, he speaks.    

“Go home.” His words hurt. “Please. Go home.”

He turns and leaves you alone in the hallway, disappearing into the crowd. Discarding you like an unwanted problem. A mistake. Something to acknowledge only in the dark. 

You feel absolutely blindsided and used and you don’t even know what is going on. You slide your back down the wall and curl your arms around your knees, hugging yourself. You have never felt more alone and abandoned. You hold yourself harder to keep back the tears.

Moments later you hear footsteps and a familiar voice rattles you back to earth. It’s Marlene, knocking on one of the bathroom doors asking if you are inside. You regain your composure and bring yourself to your feet and walk sheepishly towards her from the alcove. You adjust your dress and hair, both a little disrupted by Joel. 

“There you are! Is everything ok? I’ve been looking for you.” You turn to face her and do your best to look composed and calm. 

“Yeah I was just feeling my drink and had to get away for a minute.” You are a terrible liar.

“Uh huh...” She reaches her hand out and wipes some black makeup that still lingered on your cheek. “Don’t tell me you’re crying about that guy you’ve been seeing?” She tries to guess what could have you so upset. You fake a laugh and try to throw her off. She notices your messy hair. “Or did you makeout with that bartender that was hitting on you?” she asks excitedly.

“Nothing like that. I’m fine. Really.” You say with confidence but she is still skeptical. You take a few steps down the hallway. The words Joel begged of you before leaving you replay over and over.    

“Hey, do you… know that guy?” You struggle to get his name out. “Joel?” She looks at you puzzled. Inquisitive. Amused at your question. 

“Everyone knows Joel Miller.” She stares at you, her expression trying to hide some judgment but can’t resist. “Why?”

You don’t answer and just stare off blankly. You feel like a total idiot. A used trollop. She tries to read between the lines, assuming your drunk ass is crushing on him.

“Don’t get involved with Joel.” She warns and hooks her arm in yours and leads you back to the main room. 

Your table had been scarfed up which was no surprise. There were so many people.

You are floating between being too drunk and carefree and on the verge of a mental breakdown. For now, the alcohol was keeping you afloat. This wasn’t the time or place to deal with whatever was going on with Joel and you were not in the right frame of mind to handle it. 

You made up your mind. You were going to stay and try to salvage what was left of your night. You would stay clear of Joel. Why should he get to tell you what to do? You lose your footing and stumble but Marlene balances you.

“Ok… you need to drink water.” She mothers you and takes you by the shoulders to lead you back to the bar.

“Yes, mom.” You muster up a joke and take a deep breath.

Another half hour passes. You don��t see Joel but you don’t look for him either. You don’t want to see him or want him to see you. The water helps sober you up just slightly. The music is loud but soothing as it occupies your headspace. The current act was a man and woman duo singing something moody and playing guitar. They played a few songs and then the MC shared that they had just one more performer for tonight. 

You lazily look at your phone and it’s so much later than you realized. You turn to ask Marlene if she is ready to go when you see him, walking towards the stage with a guitar slung on his back. Joel was the final performer? You watched him walk up to the stage with disbelief. He wanted you to go home so you wouldn’t see this? It felt forbidden to look and of course you needed to.  

You had no idea he was the musical type. Realizing now you didn’t know much about him at all, apparently. The thought of that makes you feel sick. 

You feel numb to everything around you. Maybe it was all just a bad dream. It had to be.

He takes his seat on a stool in front of the mic, propping up his guitar on his lap and strums a few chords. The audience is awakened. You hear people mumbling to their friends that they can’t believe Joel is playing again. 

Apparently everyone but you. 

You want to be angry. Upset that he was so deceptive to you and kept his life so secret. Dismissive about your desire to understand.   

Your body betrays you, fluttering at the sight of him. The room is darkened and the light shining on him makes him look even more gorgeous, casting harsh shadows that accent his tight body. His silver streaks in his slicked hair catching the light and his broad frame defined perfectly in his well fitting shirt. His watch reflects the light as he positions his hand to cradle the neck of his guitar. His forearm flexes as he guides his hand over the strings. It makes you wet.   

“This one’s…. for Tess.” 

Your heart stops. 

His voice wavers as he looks down to his guitar, avoiding eye contact with anyone. The room is deadly silent. He has everyone’s attention. You are certain your heartbeat is the loudest thing as you are filled with panic. 

Did you hear that right? 

He strums his guitar and a low and gravelly voice follows. 

Love will abide

Take things in stride

He said… Tess?  

Sounds like good advice

But there's no one at my side

You feel a pit in your stomach.

And time washes clean

Love's wounds unseen

He said Tess.  

That's what someone told me

But I don't know what it means

'Cause I've done everything I know

To try and make you mine

The profound sadness in his voice hurts. It cuts you like a knife. His guttural but steady low singing moves you. You would never, but it makes you want to run up to him and hold him.  

And I think I'm gonna love you

For a long, long time

You hate this. Being in this moment, trapped. It felt like listening to a private conversation. Still, you can’t look away.  

Caught in my fears

Blinking back the tears

I can't say you hurt me

When you never let me near

The sharpness in his tone is notable and you see him clench his teeth at those words.  

'Cause I've done everything I know

To try and make you mine

The pit in your stomach grows as your fears are being realized before your eyes. 

And I think it's going to hurt me

For a long, long time

Joel was in love with her. 

Wait for the day

You'll go away

Knowing that you warned me

Of the price I'd have to pay

You look over to where Tess was sitting earlier. She looks hurt and fragile, masked by anger. Not like anything you had seen before. You pity her. You pity yourself. 

And life's full of flaws

Who knows the cause?

Living in the memory

Of a love that never was

Joel is hurting. Whatever their relationship was, he certainly wanted it to be different. 

'Cause I've done everything I know

To try and change your mind

And you are just a toy for him to play with. You need to leave. You need to be anywhere but right here. 

And I think I'm going to miss you

For a long, long time

Suddenly the room is spinning. You are going to be sick. The alcohol and anxiety inside you mix together and you feel like you can’t breathe. 

'Cause I've done everything I know

To try and make you mine

And I think I'm gonna love you

Joel looks up and his eyes accidentally find yours for the briefest moment. An unintentional stare. He looks away and down at his guitar, no doubt outraged that you didn’t go home. That you saw him spill his heart and soul out to another woman. 

For a long, long time.

Angry that you caught him cheating. The only truth you know. 

The loudest silence follows as he strums the last chord. Then, the room erupts in applause and many people stand up to clap and cheer. Even the drunkest person could have watched that performance and felt his pain. You suspected few people realized it was so good because it was so honest.  

Marlene looks over at you and can clearly see how ghostly and unwell you look. You shake your head and try to hold back the flood of tears welling up in your eyes.

“Can we… can we go? Please?”

“Yeah, of course.” Marlene puts an arm around you and helps you up. The tears start falling and you can’t stop it. You can’t hold back the flood of sobs and emotion leaving your body.  

“Whoa… Whats wrong?” She puts her hand on your cheek and tries in vain to wipe the tears away. Looking extremely concerned and no doubt piecing things together.

You can’t even think properly. You gasp at the air to save you.   

“I just need to get out of here.”

You glance up to the stage and Joel has already left it. Probably going to his lover or whatever the fuck that was all about. That sickness feeling surges back. You want to throw up. You want to disappear and erase every moment you had with Joel.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.”

To be continued...

A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T | N O T I F I C A T I O N S

Comments / Reblogs are so incredibly appreciated 🧡

Thank you to @magpiepills for being my wonderful beta, ily 🧡

Tag List // @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime @exquisiteserotonin @pink-whiskey-woman @youandmeand5bucks

@sparklefarts38 @redhotkitchen @604to647 @ann782-blog1 @brittmb115

@broken-paper-wings @elizabeth4th @fanficlover1414 @getitoutofmymindwrites @gintheginger

@dollydaydreamsposts @guiltyasdave @immyowndefender @itwasntimethatdidit40 @joelsgreys

@katiexpunk @lizzie-cakes @lotusbxtch @loveisacowboyyy @mellymbee

@mermaidgirl30 @missannwinchester @mountainsandmayhem @pascalssbabyy @pastawench

@pearlessance @pedroswife69 @r4vens-cl4ws @saltytimemachinecat @stevie75

@survivingandenduring @swiftpascal @thischarmingmandalorian @toxicanonymity @untamedheart81

@vee-bees-blog @wintersquirrel @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @yxtkiwiyxt @unbeatablecurlgirl

[darby-rowe]

18+ | nsfw | mdni peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x fem!district!reader word count 1,341 cw semi public sex (in the meadow), fingering (female receiving), reach around position, praise, dacryphilia, slight dumbification, breeding kink, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, not proofreadbased on this ask.

When you first laid eyes on District 12’s newest peacekeeper, you were hopelessly head over heels for the boy with the blonde buzzcut. When you got to talking at the hob, he was vague about his past and his story on how he became a peacekeeper; something about… cheating? You weren’t too sure on what he was getting at, but with those pretty blue eyes and tall stature, vagueness didn’t cross your mind as a red flag.

And when you took him back to your home later that night, shirtless with his dog tags hanging over your face, he fucked you so hard and good you walked with a limp for the entirety of the next day.

Henceforth, meeting up with Coriolanus had become a regular thing in your schedules.

You told him to meet you in the meadow around mid-afternoon. The weather was supposed to be somewhat beautiful around that time, a brief respite from the horrendously, oppressive hot weather that had been plaguing District 12 for months. You arose from your place under the tree and smiled with joy at the sight of Coriolanus making his strides towards you, and before you knew it, you had your tongue shoved down his throat like your life depended on it.

One thing about Coriolanus was that he was borderline obsessed with your pretty little cunt and the way you got so, so wet for him without him having to do much of anything. There, on the soft ground of the meadow, he once again had you in his grasp with you sitting between his legs, back pressed against his chest, and his hand wrapped around your body playing with your pussy.

You were unbelievably wet – that was evident in the loud schlick, schlick, schlick noises that emitted from between your legs as Coriolanus pumped his two middle fingers in and out of your hole. You had to admit it was a bit embarrassing how wet you got, but all that mattered was that Coriolanus loved it. Seriously, that boy could play with your dripping juices for hours if you’d let him.

You reached an arm to hook around Coriolanus’s, panting and whimpering against the skin of his cheek as he unapologetically pleased you, relishing in the pretty little noises that escaped your lips.

“Fuck, your fingers feel so good,” you mewled, tilting your hips more into his touch. Occasionally, he would withdraw his fingers to play with your clit, rubbing circles around the sensitive nub that always made you cry out with pleasure.

Coriolanus didn’t take his eyes away from his fingers on your pussy. “Such a good girl, getting all wet for me,” he purred, gathering a generous amount of your drooling arousal to watch how it glistened on his fingers in the afternoon sun. “Your pussy is soaked, baby. Look at that,”

You whined at the feeling of him not touching you, your cheeks flushed at the sight of your arousal. The way he teased you about being easy to arouse never failed to humble you. You watched as he rubbed your slick juices all over your folds in some attempt to humiliate you.

“I can’t help it,” you choke out. “You just make me so wet, Coryo,”

Coriolanus planted a few kisses on your neck as his fingers re-entered your warm cunt, continuing his ministrations that made you feel so fucking good. It was almost pathetic how close you were to already coming, and Coriolanus could feel in the way your walls contracted around his fingers.

“I’m coming,” you moaned, your hips ever so slightly lifting off the ground. “Fuck, I’m coming, I’m coming!” And with a string of pleasurable cries, your first orgasm rocked your entire body as your legs trembled and your hips rocked back and forth to ride out your pleasure.

But Coriolanus didn’t stop fingering you, oh no. He kept going despite your protests, despite your sensitivity. He wanted to push you, to see how far he could take you with just his fingers.

“No, no Coryo, s-so sensitive,” you whimpered as his fingers continued their assault on your overstimulated cunt.

Coriolanus just kissed your cheek. “You’re gonna come for me again,” he murmured in your ear. “You’re gonna come all over my fingers, baby. Again, and again, and again, until I’m satisfied, and until you’re nothing but a dumb, bumbling little slut. Got it?”

And so he does. He made you come a second, third, and fourth time until the only noises you managed to make were low, incoherent groans as your pussy endured the ongoing ministrations from Coriolanus’s fingers. Each time you came, it felt as if your brain was turning more and more into mushy peas, completely succumbing to Coriolanus’s power that he held over you.

You could feel his hard erection pressing against your back through the clothing of his pants, and you knew you weren’t going to be let off easily. He still had to get himself off, and how exactly was he going to do that? With his hand? Not when he had a perfectly good pussy sitting right in front of him.

You let out a squeak of surprise as Coriolanus pushed you back onto the ground of the meadow, watching through half-lidded eyes as he quickly undid his pants to free his rock-hard, throbbing cock.

“I need to fuck you,” he panted as he teased your folds with the head of his cock. “Need to fill up this pretty little pussy of yours,”

Because of how wet you were, Coriolanus slid his cock inside you with zero problems, eliciting a gasp from your throat. You gripped at the grass beneath you as you gritted your teeth through Coriolanus’s punishing thrusts, looking up at him with your pretty, glistening eyes as the overstimulation threatened tears to spill down your cheeks,

“Fuck, oh fuck, s’good, so fucking big,” you cried, your eyes flicking in between Coriolanus’s face and the sight of his cock pumping in and out of your pussy. “So fucking deep inside me. Can’t take it. It feels so fucking good,”

Coriolanus watched with a sick satisfaction as tiny drops of tears exited from the outer corner of your eyes. “Don’t start crying on me now, you’ll make me come,” he purred, pressing kisses on your tear-stained cheeks. “Take my cock, darling. Take it. Fuck, this pussy is so good,”

You desperately grabbed at his shirt and dog tags as Coriolanus continued to fuck you senseless into the meadow, his grunts mixing with your cries and whimpers as the birds began to sing around you. You were undeniably fucked and blissed out, and all you wanted was to have Coriolanus’s seed deep inside you.

Coriolanus tried to kiss you, but your lips were unable to coordinate to fully connect the kiss, as you continued to moan and cry at how good Coriolanus was fucking you. You were so close to your fifth orgasm, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside you, ready to release.

“Come inside me,” you mumbled, your voice cracking and squeaking. “Want to feel your cum,”

“That’s right, baby,” Coriolanus grunted. “Gonna fucking breed this pussy so good. Ah, fuck, gonna fill you up with my load,”

As your cunt contracted around Coriolanus’s throbbing dick with your fifth orgasm, your eyes rolled back into your head at the warm feeling of his spunk shooting deep inside your womb. You swore you could see stars floating in front of your vision, fearing that you might pass out right then and there.

You managed to remain conscious as Coriolanus pressed soft, gentle kisses on your jaw, cheek, and lips, holding your face so lovingly within his hands.

“Wish I could stay longer,” he said, looking into your eyes. “I have to get back. They’re probably wondering where I am,”

You stared up at him, panting and smiling. “It’s okay love,” you responded, gently caressing his cheek. “As long as I get to see you again,”

“Oh you know I’ll see you again, my dove,”

tagging @coryosgirl222 | don't be shy, let's talk. ♡

[realisticfanfictions]

Being Sanji's Girlfriend & Baratie's Head Waitress.

Sanji x Waitress!Reader

Working at Baratie wasn't without its challenges, and the fights that sprung up because of them weren't rare either. You and your boyfriend never sweated the small stuff, after all working in a high stress environment made you, well, stressed. But maybe some things can't be resolved that easily.

Tags: Sanji x Reader, Waitress!Reader, constant bickering, mostly fluff with some angst, (heavy) swearing.

A/N: I love the Waitress!Reader so much for OPLA, so I've decided to do another one! I had to split this up into multiple parts, cause this ended up being a bit long. (Link to part two.)

Word Count is 4,829. Hope you enjoy!

"Where the fuck are my entrees?!" Your voice echoed in the enclosed space, cutting through the melodic and rhythmic sounds of frying, chopping and other things that went on in a kitchen. You brushed past another waitress who wisely got out of your way, your heels clicking against the tiles as you marched up to the pass and slammed your copy of the meal ticket down. "Chef!" You called out, pushing back a strand of your hair as you scanned the chefs who were cooking at a ferocious pace. You locked eyes with an unfortunate new chef, but despite him immediately looking at his feet and trying to walk by, you reached through the window and pulled him by the collar. "Who the hell is on entrees?" He stumbled over his words and you groaned in frustration at his pathetic attempt at the English language.

"That's me." You pushed him back and looked past the cowering chef at the man who had just spoken up, your boyfriend and the love of your life, Sanji. His normally pressed and tidy chef attire was in disarray with his shirt untucked and his sleeves stained with various sauces. He sounded hoarse and was covered in a thin layer of sweat as he cooked some type of meat, flipping it over in the pan to cook it evenly. Intense concentration was etched into his face and the way he scrunched his nose was adorable, but right now you couldn't think of anything else but punching it.

You opened your mouth to speak, but a nearby busboy ran in front of you and you snarled at him. "Watch it, asshole!" You refocused your attention back on the blonde in front of you. "I have thirty-eight tables out there with at least four head a table, and only two waitresses working the floor-!"

He shook his head and his pan aggressively hit the stove top each time he moved it. "You know, it sounds so hard to look pretty and run around in heels all night, but I actually have a real job-"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really. And I'd appreciate it if I didn't have you bitching in my ear all night!" He threw some butter in the pan and began to bast the meat.

"Then maybe, if you were actually good at your 'real job'," You said with quotation marks. "Then you'd tell me why the shit it takes thirty-five goddamn minutes for a premade french onion soup!"

He whipped around with a laddle in his hand and he marched over to the pass. You both bent down to see each other through the window. "Hey, if I had any fucking help around here I would have gotten that to you twenty minutes ago, but I'm stuck here-"

"And here we go!" You exclaimed as you threw up your hands dramatically and walked through the swinging doors. You avoided Pattie walking out with a tray of fresh bread and popped on an apron attached to a nearby hook.

"-with my thumb up my arse because apparently no one knows how to plate a damn steak in this kitchen!" He moved around you as you took his place, grabbing the offending meat and placing it atop of the mashed potatoes.

Annoyed, you grabbed the garnish. "Well, where the hell's the plating station?"

Sanji came back and unceremoniously dropped a large stock pot next to you. He bent down to look you in the eye and threw his hands up in the air. "He quit."

Your eyes widened and followed him as he walked to the other side of you and started plating beside you. "He what?"

"He fucking quit! Just like every other bitch who couldn't handle Tuesdays at the Baratie." His brows furrowed and he let out a small shout of frustration. "Whoever the fuck did the halibut, refry it!" He yelled as he set it off to the side. "Just 'cause we're busy doesn't mean you can push out a shit and pass it off as fine dining!"

You plated another order and put it under the heat lamp at the pass, then rang the bell, but no one came. "And we're short-staffed on waitresses too!" You exclaimed and spotted the busboy from before, "Oi! You! Get off your ass and start serving!" You threw your ticket-book and pen at him, which he barely caught from where he was sitting.

"B-But I'm washing dishes-!"

You dramatically gestured around. "We aren't even sending anything out, so unless you've been storing them up your rectum, what fucking dishes are you washing?!" You grabbed the french onion soup in the stock pot that Sanji had given you and quickly poured it into three bowls laced with garnish on top. "Take these to 12, and the steak to 24. Tell 12 that they'll get a free dessert in about twenty minutes. Well? Get a move on! You aren't getting paid to sit there and look pretty, 'cause you sure as hell ain't fucking pretty!" He scrambled to pick them up and he quickly ran out of the kitchen.

"That turned me on more than I'd like to admit." Sanji appeared beside you with another plate and rang the service bell. "If we weren't busy I'd kiss you, darling." He exclaimed as he grabbed a handful of garnish and placed it atop of the plate.

"Oi, fuckface." When he looked over, you quickly pressed a kiss to his lips and grabbed the metal tray of halibut. "Now, let's get these pretentious pricks fed!"

You both worked side by side, barking orders at each other and bickering over every little thing you could - even Zeff yelled at you both to shut up. But it worked. Within minutes, you both had worked through the back orders and finally got to a point where you weren't struggling to complete orders from guests who'd been waiting for hours. When the last table left, you and Sanji just about collapsed. Leaning against the cool wall tile with you by his side, he sighed. "That was definitely one of our busiest days," He said with pure relief that it was finally over.

You couldn't remain standing and slid down the wall, your high heels clicking as you sat down. "Yeah, who knew so many people would wanna celebrate Father's Day?" You replied sarcastically, but a playful smile told your boyfriend that you weren't being mean. He softly chuckled and followed suit, sliding down the wall until he reached the floor with a groan.

He pulled out his cigarettes. "I've earned one of these." He says as he puts it between his lips and waits for you to light it. You roll your eyes and oblige, taking out your lighter and lighting the end of it for him. He took a slow drag, closed his eyes, savoured it, and then exhaled out the smoke.

"You almost make lung cancer look sexy." You remarked with a grin, and he returned it with his own charming, beautiful smile.

His eyes slowly flicked up and down. "And you always make yelling and shouting look so sexy." He licked his lips and leaned in, giving you a kiss that lingered. Your eyes fluttered shut and you enjoyed the small respite from the craziness you had both just experienced. Even when the kiss eventually ended, neither one of you moved away. "Are you working tonight?" He asked under his breath.

You sighed and pecked his lips. "In two hours."

"Till?"

"Four."

"Shit."

"I know." You pressed your lips against his once more and moved some hair out of his face. "But, I'm not working tomorrow so we can sleep in."

He sighed. "I start at nine tomorrow."

"Till?"

"Six."

"Shit."

"I know." You both quietly laughed and pressed your noses together, then rubbed them together while stealing kisses and giggling like you used to when you were kids.

You'd been at the Baratie ever since you were fifteen, and you'd been dating Sanji since you were sixteen. It wasn't really something you both had officially decided on, nor did either one of you do this big, elaborate confession that made both of you ugly-cry. It happened slowly over time. Many customers and fellow staff would constantly tease you both with things like, "Where's your girlfriend, Sanji?" and, "Aw! You both are so cute together!" At first you both denied it, but eventually you just... stopped correcting people. You were each other's first kiss, first love... first love, and despite how it looks from the outside, you couldn't be happier.

"Oi, Sanji." You called out as you leaned closer to the mirror to focus on your eyeshadow. "Be careful, there's been a lot of pirate activity lately. They might stop by, so Zeff has officially-unofficially instated a no-tolerance policy for- Sanji!" You laughed when your boyfriend wrapped his arms around you and you struggled to do your makeup while Sanji hung off of you and pressed kisses along your cheek. "You toad! You're going to ruin my smokey eye."

He playfully moaned. "But you're so sexy," He whined and pulled back enough to give you puppy eyes. "And you shouldn't work tonight if there's pirates anyway."

"I still have to work." You replied, giving up on doing your makeup and stealing a quick kiss from him. "I'm the head of front-of-house, I can't just ring up Zeff and say, 'hey, your son wants to sleep with me so I can't come in today!'"

"No, you can't." At the sound of his voice, you looked up to see that your boss had entered you and Sanji's shared room. He would have seen the neatly pressed and ironed button-downs wrapped around hangers, and two mismatching pairs of high heels strewn about the floor. His eyes met yours. "We have a full house of rich, but important pricks tonight, and I need all hands on deck. If someone calls in sick, drag them out of bed if you have to."

Your boyfriend pouted playfully. "But she never gets any time off, can't we just-"

"(Y/N) is our head of house, she's too important to lose tonight." Zeff straightened up and crossed his arms over. "Little Eggplant, you can't distract (Y/N) from doing her job. Unlike you, she has to work to stay here." The old man looked over at you and you nodded, you knew that you were a staff member first and foremost - being the girlfriend of his adopted son was second to that.

Sanji's smile tightened, and he stood up. "I know." His blue eyes flashed with something that you meant he wanted to say something but didn't. His smile returned when he looked at you. "I'll see you in the morning."

As he brushed past Zeff and walked out of the room, you furrowed your eyebrows at your boss and father figure. "Now that's one way to get him pissed off at you." The words came out a little more aggressive than you meant to, but you didn't bother correcting yourself.

He sighed and turned to leave. "Leave it alone, (Y/N)."

"And one way to get me pissed off at you too." You dropped your eyeshadow onto the table and followed after him. His wide frame took up quite a bit of space in the hallway, but you squeezed past him to block his path.

Zeff groaned when he saw you and squeezed the bridge of his nose, then released it to gesture while he spoke. "(Y/N), I apologise if you felt offended. You're a part of our family, and--"

"I don't care about that." You scoffed in disbelief and gawked at his lack of social awareness. "You must be really thick in the skull if you think I'm upset about that."

His face scrunched up. "Then what are you upset about? Hm? What are you upset about now?" He gestured behind you. "I have dinner service to prep for," He started to list off on his fingers. "I have a team of flaky waitresses-your team of flaky waitresses to deal with, and I need to make sure that we have enough lamb being delivered for our special tonight. So what could it possibly be that is so important you're holding me up for?"

You counted to five in your head before opening your mouth to speak. "I love him. And I don't give a rat's ass that you sign my paycheck, or give me a roof over my head. You don't make Sanji, my boyfriend and your son, feel shitty just because you think it'll toughen him up. And you certainly don't use me to do that." You keep your gaze locked onto his. "You ever do that again? I walk." You stepped backward and straightened up. "I'll get the team ready for service."

You never regretted what you said. Was your tone harsher than it should've been? Yes, but you needed to get your point across to him. There wasn't any time to think about it though, because it was Friday night and thirty minutes before opening - you didn't have the time to regret what you said.

"Ladies!" You called out, then smiled. "And Sapi." Said fishman smiled at your acknowledgement as your team of staff gathered around to form a semi-circle in front of you. You held up your checklist. "We have fifteen V.I.P tables tonight. I expect everyone to be on their best behaviour. That means no frowning, no blowing your nose on the customer's napkins, and no- oh my God, Macy. If you don't shut the fuck up." The red-lipped, pigtail-wearing waitress jolted back from where she was gossiping with another waitress. You raise your brows at her as if to ask if she was done and rolled your eyes. "And no unprofessionalism." You finished with a glare.

Spai cleared his throat. "How many free tables do we have tonight?"

You looked back at the clipboard and flipped over the page, counting quietly to yourself. "There's two at seven and one at eight. The two at seven are one and eight, and the one at eight is seven. One can be for eight, but don't offer seven to under six because seven and six are over eight. Got it?"

The room was quiet for a moment, and Sapi slowly blinked. "May I have a copy of that, please?"

"I'll bring one to your station," You looked around. "Any questions?" Silence. "Good. Now, put on your fakest smile and happy ga-ga voice - we've got a line of ships waiting to be fed!"

"Let's do this, team!" Macy's voice screeched out and she was met with silence.

You exhaled gruffly and squeezed the bridge of your nose. "Macy, I swear to- let's do this, team!" This time, it was met with a round of cheer as they dispersed to familiarise themselves with their tables for the night.

A pleased sigh escaped you, content with your small but mighty team that you had managed to drag out of bed to work the floor. A glance to the suspiciously blank specials menu made you curse under your breath. You were going to have to talk to Zeff to get tonight's specials. With a defeated sigh, you clipped your pen to your shirt and sucked in a deep breath, before making your way to the kitchen where it sounded like food preparations were already underway.

"...and get those lamb in the cold room!" Zeff's voice was apparent the second you walked through those doors. The kitchen was a mess of people marching backwards and forwards like ants while Zeff, their queen, barked orders as they passed by. You thought about just turning around and pretending that the fight had never happened in the first place, but the old man spotted you and waved you over with a finger. "What can I get you, Sprout?" You breathed out a sigh of relief, hearing his nickname for you was like a wave of fresh air.

You straightened up and grabbed your pen. "Hey geezer, what's the specials tonight?"

He waited for you to finish writing "Specials" across the top of your sheet of paper. "We have Lobster Thermidor paired with the 1500s Chardonnay, or a White Burgundy if they snub the Chardonnay. Then we have classic Red-Wine Braised Lamb Shanks that you can pair with any Grenache you find." He slid a piece of paper to you. "These are the prices. I only want you handling checks tonight."

Out of sheer habit, you slipped the piece of paper into your bra. "Why's that?"

"Because someone messed up the till last night, and I want someone I can trust running it."

That made your heart clench. You sighed. "Look, Zeff," You started and lowered your clipboard. "I'm sorry for stepping out of line earlier. I was angry. Sanji was trying to get some 'us' time because we haven't even been awake at the same time for the last couple months. And when we have it's been with me running the floor and him- you know what I mean. Look, I'd never walk out on you, Zeff."

His face, as always, was blank, but you can tell he was processing what you had just said. He was quiet, but then he nodded. "Get those specials on the board. We open in ten." You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded, then turned around. "Don't fuss, little brussel sprout."

A smile wormed its way onto your face and you looked over your shoulder at him. "Fussin' ain't worth fussing over. Isn't that what you say?" You barely dodged an incoming head of lettuce.

"Good evening, welcome to the Baratie. My name is (Y/N), can I get you started with some drinks tonight?" You were a natural at this. It didn't matter if you were having an "anti-person day", as Sanji called it, there was no denying that you had talent.

The man with soft, pink hair hummed and looked over the menu. His brass knuckles glistening under the dim lighting of the restaurant. "What are your specials for the night?"

A polite smile went a long way. "The chef has prepared for you a selection of the most wonderful meals made only from the finest and freshest ingredients in the Ease Blue. We have Lobster Thermidor paired with a Chardonnay that I find adds a bit of a fruity, uplifting compliment to the meal. And we have our high-in-demand Lamb Shanks braised in a nice red wine, and paired with only the best Grenache you can find for miles." You didn't bother telling him that it was the same Grenache you had found in the back of the freezer from four months ago.

"That sounds lovely, and what is the cost?"

You quietly hissed and looked over at the beautiful blonde who was sitting across from him, then leaned in to whisper. "I find it's best not to discuss such things on a date. You wouldn't want her to think she isn't worth it, right?"

Well, that certainly worked. He slowly looked between you and his date, who smiled sweetly and encircled the rim of her glass with her perfectly manicured french tips. He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. "You're right. We'll take one of each, and I'll have to rely on you for what pairs best."

You took the menu he offered with a smile and a nod. "Very well sir, I hope you two enjoy yourselves. Our bar is open all night." And with a wink, you danced away to the kitchen to place 'his' order. It was easy with men like that. All you had to do was dangle their woman's respect in front of them and they'd eat shit just to keep her smiling. But despite the monotony of it at times, you met a lot of interesting people from different backgrounds. You gave a small wave at the man at table two, a regular who had just come back from his royal ballet tour appearance and was with his rich, aristocrat girlfriend, who he said wasn't feeling well.

An set of voices, loud and uncouth, came from above and you stopped to cast a glance upwards. They were... pirates? Well, Zeff did say that they'd been more active around this area as of late, so it wasn't that much of a surprise - especially since there was already a couple tables of them. Sapi looked a little overwhelmed, so you sighed and grabbed a nearby waitress. "Could you take an order to the kitchen for me? It's table three with the two specials, two too. The man at two in the tutu wants it blue, but not at two with Ms. Sue in the red shoes. She has a touch of the flu, so any red meat or roux will make her spew. Got it?"

She blinked. "I think so?"

You patted her on the shoulder and briskly floated up the stairs with as much grace as a head waitress could muster. Their conversation slowly grew louder and you were able to hear some of their conversation. "My apologies, but I don't accept money for-"

"Is there something I can help you with?" At your words, the group looked over and Sapi, who had been trying to refuse some berri the orange-haired woman was offering him, visibly relaxed.

"Nothing is the matter, this group was just leaving." He answered and looked at them to see if they got the hint. The woman sighed in defeat and pocketed her cash. You looked over at the two young men leant against the railing staring into the restaurant below, they were very excited and looked as if they hadn't eaten a proper meal for a few days.

With your mind set, you glanced over at the time, then straightened up and smiled. "You know what? It's seven, so I believe we might have a booth available if that's suitable for your needs?"

She smiled and breathed out a small sigh of relief. "Thank you, here-"

You held up a hand before she could reach into her pocket. "Save that for your meal." With a quick nod to Sapi, you stepped aside and gestured toward the staircase. "Follow me." The man with green hair and three swords rubbed you the wrong way almost the second you laid eyes on him, and you could tell he felt the same way. It was almost a sense of mutual familiarity. But you broke off eye contact to lead the rest of this strange, rambunctious crew further into the Baratie. "The Baratie was established by our current owner Zeff, and we recently celebrated our tenth anniversary."

The boy in the straw hat gawked at everything he saw and heard you say, and smiled brightly. "This place looks like it serves good food!"

That brought a smile to your face. "It does," You said as you guided them to their booth amidst other pirates and similar rough-looking guests. "And I don't just say that because my boyfriend's the sous chef."

"Are you sure about that?" The guy in a pirate costume asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief and laughing along with his young friend.

You smiled along and shook your head. "I'll let you guys get settled in and will return in about five minutes with a menu. Please enjoy the music." With a few friendly waves and a "see you in a bit!" from the straw hat boy, you turned and walked toward the back of the room to collect a few menus.

Suddenly, the door slammed open and your boyfriend appeared looking more than a bit annoyed. You didn't even think he was on the line tonight, but your attention was drawn to two men who had began to cause a bit of a ruckus. You weren't close enough to hear what was being said, but you tucked the menus under your armpit and darted toward the pair that were now being consoled by Sanji. "...we don't waste food, and there's no fighting at the Baratie." You slowed your walk toward them and continued at a crawl. The man you had served not that long ago was dealing with a rowdy pirate. You heard something that sounded like a threat and Sanji spoke up again, his voice cutting through the argument before it had the chance to escalate. "And I'd like to pour you each a glass of Ithürzburger Stein. On the house."

The pirate nodded. "Okay, I'll have that drink." His brows furrowed and his voice grew irrate. "After he apologies for his bad manners!"

"Over my dead body." That was certainly the wrong answer. With a growl, they both lunged for each other and you sped toward them, watching as Sanji, in a blur, flipped over the table and kicked each of them.

The pink haired man grunted and got back up on his feet, drawing his gun but then froze when he felt something cold dig into his back. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." You warned, shoving your own gun into his back and whispered in his ear. "Drop it." Like the coward he was, he did and you effortlessly slammed the butt of your weapon into his temple - knocking him out cold.

You motioned for a nearby waitress to deal with the unconscious men, then snapped your attention to Sanji who picked up his plate of scones and continued his walk. "No cause for alarm, folks. Please, enjoy your meals." He called out and you quickly pocketed your gun back into your thigh-holster, smoothing out your dress and turning to the waitress who had arrived at your side.

After gesturing for her to take them out the back door, you readjusted yourself and quickly walked up to Sanji's side who's forced smile made you tilt your head in confusion. He shook his head, he didn't want to talk about it just yet. You both made the few steps over to the table you had just seated and, despite his mood, he set down the plate with his usual grace. "Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambience is the food. My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?" While he spoke, you placed down some menus and tried to ignore the straw hat boy who was currently stuffing his face full of our complimentary scones.

The woman grabbed a menu from you with a smile, but the others had their eyes locked onto Sanji. "One of everything, please!" The straw hat boy called out without taking a look at the menu you had walked twenty feet in high heels to collect.

"Any drinks?" Your boyfriend offered as he shoved his hands into his pocket, unconsciously looking for his packet of smokes that you knew he couldn't light. You briefly wondered if you should offer him a smoke break to calm him down. "One of our signature cocktails to help you choke down your meal?"

"Giving us the hard sell, huh?" She asked as she slowly lowered her menu and you found it increasingly harder not to smack the blond.

And, as usual, his entire demeanour changed. "Apologies, madam. I didn't see you there. Would you care for an aperitif to start? We have several rare Micqueot vintages in stock. Or perhaps you'd like a glass of Umeshu? You know, something sweet-" He winked. "-for someone sweet."

"Something wrong with your eye?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow.

You cleared your throat. "No, but there is something wrong with his head if he thinks he can flirt with another girl in front of his girlfriend."

That garnered a few giggles, snickers and mock gasps from the table. Sanji chuckled and turned to you. "I hope I'm not in the doghouse tonight?" He pulled you in and gave you a quick kiss on your cheek, but you waved him off.

"We'll see." You shot him a not-so-serious warning look and focused back on the table. "Sorry about that, did I hear you were after some drinks?"

The green-haired male looked you up and down, faint recognition in his eyes as he cleared his throat. "Can I get a beer and something for my friends?"

The pirate-costumed man spoke up. "Two beers. I usually have three, but-"

"And a milk!"

You scribbled down their orders, and Sanji's hand crept around your waist. "Three beers and a milk. And, uh, for madam?"

"Water."

"Still, sparking, mineral? With ice or without? Cubed or crushed?"

You stopped writing and slowly looked up to your boyfriend. "...Taken, Sanji." You reminded him and he stared back at you innocently.

Even the woman leaned back in confusion. "Regular water, in a regular glass. Thanks."

"Right away." He said with a wistful expression, and with the roll of your eyes, you dragged him away before he made a further fool of himself.

AN: Sorry about ending it there, but it was getting WAY too long and I figured it'd be easier to break it up into multiple pieces rather than having one solid chunk of 12k words. Or however long this fic ends up being. I'm actually kinda digging it, so I may continue to write it for a while! Also, I have no idea how old Sanji is meant to be in this universe? According to the internet (and the massive reddit fight I accidentally spawned) it's a tossup between 19 and 26 (OP Sanji's vs the actor's actual age.)

I also hope you appreciate the word-puns. I don't know why but I really enjoy writing them and love to include them in my writing-

[megamindsecretlair]

Hey fren! ✌🏾

Whenever you got the time, can we get a nice little piece with Kofi, Tyrone, or Trevante (your pick lol) where him and his girl get into bad. It leads them to be mad as hell at each other to where they aren't speaking for like a day or two.

And our man finally gets tired of the tension and decides to make things up, but our girl is damn sure good at holding grudges so it takes him a leeettle bit more convincing to get her out of her feelings.

Also, no rush if you do decide to do this one! Love you babes 😘💜

A/N: I hope this hits. What can I say, the anon inspired me. Please note that this is not Mr. Black.

Don't Forget About Us

Pairing: Tre x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Established relationship. Smut, FLUFF, PIV, oral (fem and male receiving), anal play, dirty talk, cursing, all consensual.

Summary: See ask. You reached a breaking point with your boyfriend. He was constantly gone, nose buried in work making you go to bed alone and tired and lonely. After a screaming match, you both need time to cool your heels. But not for too long.

Word Count: 6,841k

AO3 Link

A/N: It's not that I lied, it's just that I failed lmfao. I hadn't had plans to release this but well, I miss himmmm. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged ask.

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @blackerthings @logansblackgf @henneseyhoe @my1onlysenpai @darqchilddaydreamz @badassdoll @playgurlxoxo @eggnox @abeautifulmindexposed @theyscreamsannii @melaninpov @mcdesij @kholdkill @blowmymbackout @theunsweetenedtruth @monaeesstuff @cocoeffects @soft-persephone @duckiesfairy @slippinninque @westside-rot @prettypink-princesss @thadelightfulone @the-crystal-one @miyuhpapayuh @thecookiebratz @twocentuar @esachicaa @enchantedillumination @xo-goldengirl @tranquilfandomer @we-outsiiiide @hihellogoodbyebruh @babybratzmaraj @yourofficialgal @liyaah02 @mochaaahooligan @ashleykeri @harmshake @amethyst09 @ciaqui @iv0rysoap @00aijia00 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @luckygirlszn @thecapodomme @chaos-4baby @multiversefanfics @tvchi @kittyken006 @avoidthings @makayla171

For the first time, in a really long time, you did not want to get out of your car and walk through the front door. You didn’t want to spend another restless night worrying over your boyfriend. He was such a work-a-holic and you were tired of the arguments. 

The same old record scratch repeating over and over. You missed him like crazy. You wanted him warm and safe in your bed every night and you were sick of feeling guilty for wanting that. He would kiss you and make promises, but slowly, his word was losing its meaning. 

You groaned and dropped your head to the steering wheel. You could not stay out here for much longer. You knew that and yet your legs felt like lead weights. You couldn’t make your body move even though your mind screamed at you to move. You honestly didn’t know how much longer you could continue doing this.

You heaved another groan and finally got out of the car, the quick beep letting you know that your car was locked and armed. You walked up to the townhouse you two shared, entering through the front door. You walked inside to the lights on and music playing somewhere in the background.

You closed and locked the door, removing your jacket and hanging it on the hook by the door. You slipped out of your heels, sighing as that particular burden was removed. You followed the sound of the music to the dining room.

Your boyfriend stood there in soft black lounge pants and a black long sleeved tee to match. It molded well to his body, showing off his muscles. He smiled, instantly lighting up the entire room with that mega-watt smile of his. 

A gold chain rested against his chest and golden studs glinted in the dim lighting. He held out a glass of wine, cocking his head. “Hey baby,” he said.

You sighed, wanting to melt into his arms. Wanting to hug him and turn your brain off for the rest of the night. A surge of bitterness shot through you, coating your tongue in acid. But you swallowed it down. You didn’t want to pick a fight. Didn’t want to be that type of girlfriend. 

You smiled and grabbed the glass of wine from him and took a small sip. You felt awkward standing next to the man of your dreams and not knowing what to do. Whether or not it was okay to reach across that gap and touch him. 

You scooted past and looked at the dinner on the table. Steaming short ribs were covered in gravy, sitting next to a vegetable medley and seasoned mashed potatoes. It looked amazing and your mouth watered, momentarily forgetting that you were mad at him. 

Tre moved around you and slid your chair out. You thanked him and moved in front of it. He pushed the chair in as you sat down and then took his seat at the side of the table. He uncovered a bowl of salad, dishing some for you into the small bowl beside your plate. 

You smiled and began eating, falling into a familiar pattern. You spoke about silly things like your work and his, the crazy people there, or what your friends were currently up to. You spoke about your family and their latest shenanigans and Tre spoke about talking to his grandmother earlier. 

Safe, normal topics that didn’t disrupt the nice meal Tre prepared. You let yourself breathe for a moment, soak up the rare moment that he was home long enough to enjoy this. You laughed with him and you enjoyed seeing the little crinkle in his eyes. That devastating smile. 

You relaxed in the chair, taking a moment to appreciate the comfortable lull in the conversation. You swirled the last bit of wine in your glass on the table, watching the red liquid swirl. 

“You want some more?” Tre asked.

You smiled and shook your head. “I should probably get ready for bed, I got an early meeting,” you said. 

Tre sighed. “I get it,” he said. He looked down at your hand briefly when the shrill tone of his phone rang in the living room. 

You sucked your teeth while he cursed, grabbing his phone and looking at the caller’s name. It’d be so much easier if you thought he was cheating. That you could explain away in your mind. Men were dogs, it was what they did, blah blah blah. You would be hurt, you would get over it and move on with someone who actually loved you.

But no. You had to compete with four walls and a computer screen. You had to compete with spreadsheets and wet signatures and copy paper. How the hell did you beat something like that? Where would you even start? 

“I’m sorry, I thought I put it on silent,” he said.

“It’s fine, take it,” you said. You smiled and stood up, getting ready to clear the table. Tre placed his hand on yours, stilling your movements. You looked at him without looking into his eyes. Your eyes were focused on his lips, on the tight lipped grimace. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he said. 

“You cook, I clean. That was the deal,” you said, intentionally misunderstanding him. You pulled your arm but he didn’t budge. You sighed but refused to meet his gaze. His phone continued ringing and he cursed again, reaching out with his left hand to silence the ringing.

“Pick it up, Tre. Really, it’s fine,” you said. You yanked your arm once more and he let you go, let you bring the dishes to the kitchen. You hated doing dishes. But a deal was a deal. If you cooked, he cleaned. If he cooked, you cleaned. You packed away the remaining food, placing it in the refrigerator. You started filling the sink after plugging it, adding soap so it could bubble up.

Tre’s heavy footsteps entered the kitchen, feet tapping on the smooth tile. His massive frame took up your peripheral vision but you focused on the rising, steaming water. 

“You won’t even look at me anymore,” he said.

You choked on a laugh, not expecting that to shoot out of his mouth. You bit your lip so that you could stop, so that it wouldn’t turn into theatrics and hysterics. You swore you’d never be this type of girl. You swore and you swore. 

“You’re not here long enough for me to look at you,” you said. 

“That’s not fair, damn. I did all of this to spend time with you,” he said. 

You sighed. Feeling the oncoming headache. Was it even worth it? All you did was argue and yell around in circles. The yells like lashes against the wall. It was grating and nerve-wracking and you wanted off the struggle bus. 

But if you didn’t say anything, would anything ever change? Did you want it to? You watched the water foam and bubble up as it rose in the sink. You were leaning on the sink, feet crossed at the ankle. 

“Until the next time you need to go into the office. Or the next time your boss needs you to look at an expense report right this second, at three in the morning. Or you have this meeting or that meeting, your phone is constantly on. You might as well move into your fucking office. You never turn that shit off,” you said. 

You turned off the water, the sharp creak of the handle loud in the silent kitchen. Music still pumped in from the other room, but it was too muted to understand the lyrics. Knowing Tre, it was something sweet and sensual. Finding songs with the perfect mix of longing and need. 

You pulled on kitchen gloves when Tre’s phone rang once more. You smirked with no real humor behind it. “If you really wanted to spend time, you would have turned your phone off.” 

“This is my job, baby. This is what I get paid to do. This is how I afford all of this,” he said.

You rolled your eyes and started scrubbing the plate. You poured your frustration into getting every last stain off of the plate. Every last smear of gravy or mashed potato. “I know that! I’m not saying quit your job, I’m not saying never work. I just want you home at a decent fucking hour,” you said.

You put the clean plate on the other side of the sink so that you could rinse it off later. You started in on another plate. The action would be relaxing if you didn’t have Tre’s fucking phone going off. His boss was worse than a thirsty bitch after your man. You swore, there were some moments where you caught his boss looking at you like you were the devil herself. 

“Sometimes things come up that need my attention,” he said.

“At three in the fucking morning? What email or graph or fucking presentation is so important at three in the morning? When do you sleep? When do you rest?”

Tre growled, stepping closer to you. “It’s just for a few weeks while we try to finish up this contract. Our work on it will depend on if they’ll sign with us again,” he said.

You mentally said the words along with him. He’d said it so often, you had it committed to memory. “And what if you don’t have a few weeks? Because your body is breaking down, because you never rest, because you never chill? What then? You gonna rest when you’re dead?”

You glanced at him, at the pain in his eyes. His mouth was fixed in a grimace, eyes cold. No matter what you said, he was always going to think his way was the highway. He wasn’t going to budge. He was turning into a mountain before your eyes. You rolled your neck and continued washing off the dinner plates and wine glasses. 

“I’m trying,” he said quietly.

“No, you’re not. If you were trying, this wouldn’t be the first dinner we’ve had together –”

His phone rang and you laughed, shaking your head. What was the point? Tre cursed and picked up the phone, screaming into the phone. 

“I’m in the middle of something,” he said. He listened for a few moments, turning away from you as he continued with the conversation. You chuckled, amazed at how easy it was to sway him when it came to work. Yet you were pleading with him to do right by you.

Truly, why bother? Why fight for a relationship that he clearly didn’t want or need? You felt like you were a hindrance. Like you were in the way of him working himself into the ground. The sad part was that you just wanted him safe. And he just wanted to work. 

He was gone for about ten minutes, likely somewhere in your double home office, clicking away on his computer. You fell into a silent rhythm, washing the utensils and then rinsing off the dishes, draining the other side. 

You took off the kitchen gloves and then washed your hands. Tre re-entered the kitchen, sighing. “I’ll see you next time you decide to come home,” you said.

Tre smacked his lips. “I don’t know what else you want me to do here, baby. You said come home and I’m home. You said you wanted a home cooked meal and here it is,” he said. 

You rubbed your head. “I want you home! And that means your phone is off, your mind is not on work, and you are here with me. Otherwise–” You shrugged and shook your head, the words pushing against your tongue. Pushing you to speak. 

“Otherwise there’s no reason to be together.” You sighed, feeling like a weight had been shoved off your shoulders. You could breathe now that the words were out in the air. You couldn’t take them back. Couldn’t recall them. 

Tre’s face crumpled before he turned around, throwing his hands in the air. “What the hell? You want to break up now?” He asked and turned back to you.

“I don’t know! I’m tired and I’m mad and I don’t want to look at you right now. Go to work, stay here, I don’t care. But you’re sleeping on the couch!” You yelled. 

“Tell me if you’re trying to break up with me,” he said.

“I don’t know. You make me so mad and sad. And I’m tired!” You yelled. You brushed past him. He grabbed your hand, pulling you to a stop. You yanked your hand back. His phone rang and you turned to look at him. You looked pointedly at the phone in his hand and then at him. 

“I hope that you don’t look up five years from now, sad and alone, because you chose work over living your life,” you said. You left him in the kitchen, left him looking at you as if you’d slapped him in the face. 

Tears stung your eyes but you refused to cry. Refused to weaponize your tears to manipulate him into staying. You weren’t going to beg a man to stay. You made your desires clear, multiple times, over many arguments during the past few weeks. There were only so many times you could repeat yourself before you understood that Tre was doing this intentionally. He chose work over you and that hurt most of all. 

Over the next few days, Tre slept on the couch while you continued to sleep in your big, cold bed. You avoided each other as much as possible, both unwilling to look each other in the eye as your words echoed in the silent halls. 

You managed to move around each other, never speaking and communicating with sighs and grunts. He was spending less and less time at work, coming home earlier and earlier. It was something. But was it enough for you? Was he only doing this because he thought he didn’t want to leave you? 

You were coming home more often to Tre already having dinner started or finished, phone nowhere to be seen. Your tempers flashed hot and burned easily, so by the fourth day, you were not surprised that Tre was leaving notes for you. Reaching out to grab your hand sometimes or looking at you with rare heat in his eyes.

That was definitely something you missed these past few weeks. He’d been too tired or too worked up to hold and caress you. To make love to you like you missed. Your previous hurt was still etched into your heart and you weren’t sure what it would take to believe this version of him. Believe that he wanted to change and this wasn’t just an act. 

You were on the couch, curled up with a smutty book. Somebody had to get laid around here. You were in the middle of a juicy part, snuggling deeper into your emerald throw blanket as the words played a movie in your head. Tre’s thick thighs entered your field of vision. 

You glanced up and was met with gray sweatpants showing a very impressive bulge. Tre at rest was already a monster to begin with. Your eyes narrowed as you looked up at him. He grinned, scooting past you to sit on the couch. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, showing off plenty of tattoos that your mouth watered to trace with your tongue. 

Tre cleared his throat, taking off his glasses and man spreading by putting his feet on the table. You were already annoyed by that, but he cracked open his own book, adjusting his body to get more comfortable.

Was this motherfucker for real? A flush of heat made you grip the throw blanket tighter around your shoulders. You curled into your end of the couch, pulling your legs to sit underneath you. Your thick thighs didn’t allow you to stay in this position for long, but you hoped the building ache kept your mind off of the fact that he was being an ass. 

You focused on your book, on the heat and passion of the sex scene you were reading. But the actor you casted in your mind was quickly replaced with Tre. The female main character was swapped with you. You pictured Tre doing the same nasty things as the characters in the book. 

You sighed for the tenth time, getting hotter by each word that you read. The male main character started talking nasty, growling in the girl’s ear. Your body shivered, practically hearing Tre’s voice saying those same nasty things in your ear.

Fucker. He knew those sweatpants were dangerous. You huffed again and Tre cleared his throat. “Something the matter, baby?” He asked.

“Nope, all good,” you answered too quickly, but you didn’t care. You were having an entire crisis where you sat while he sat there so peacefully. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye to see the hint of a smirk on his lips. 

You loved a well-read man. You knew that he truly was reading and he also knew that it further turned you on. You huffed and adjusted yourself on the couch, moving your legs to the side of you. It relieved the burning ache in your thighs and calves and you hummed in relief.

You narrowed your eyes, determined to re-cast the characters in your mind. But instantly, your mind was creating an entire scene in your head. This was ridiculous. You weren’t going to be subject to this torture, not while Tre refused to apologize.

You stood up and let the couch throw blanket fall from your shoulders. Cold air hit your skin and you wanted to sigh in relief again, but you refused. You smiled at him and he smiled sweetly at you. “Goodnight baby,” he said.

You knew his back hurt from sleeping on the couch but you refused to be the first one to budge in this matter. He needed to do this because he wanted to and not because of some game between you. Though, it looked like he was winning so far. 

You trudged up the stairs, intent on going straight to sleep. You laid down in the dark, thoughts of Tre blowing your back out lulling you to sleep.

Tre became unbearable. He was always catching you at the wrong moment, leaving you flustered and like he was inflicting ten plus psychic damage to your kitty. It was well on its way to purring every time he walked into the room wearing a combination that made your head spin. 

First it was the gray sweatpants. Then he came home drenched in sweat, wearing compression shorts underneath his basketball shorts. He had a small white towel tucked in the waistband of his pants and you wanted to tug it down further so that you could see his Adonis belt.

If that wasn’t enough, you were trying to ignore that he was in the shower while you were laying in bed. He yelled for you to help grab him a towel because he forgot his. When you passed the soft towel to him through the door, you saw his reflection in the mirror. He winked at you as your eyes traveled down, down, down and then you shrieked and backed away. You felt insane for peeping on your own boyfriend, but his ass was well rounded, sculpted, muscles jumping. 

You fanned yourself thinking of it. You had to get him back. Had to start playing dirty yourself. You went deep into your closet, pulling out the skimpy lounge wear. The too tiny shorts, the lady boxers, the oversized T-shirts. 

You walked into the kitchen one Saturday morning, surprised to find him drinking coffee at the rounded dining room table. He had a newspaper in his hand, glasses on but he was looking over the rim. Now he was just being dramatic. 

You sauntered into the kitchen, wearing a purple oversized T-shirt, the kind that rode up whenever you leaned over. You did such a thing, reaching up for the mugs at the higher shelf. Tre moved them some time ago, telling you he did it on purpose so you’d ask for his help. 

“Need help, baby?” Tre asked, his voice gruff.

“No, thank you, baby. I got it,” you said. You managed to snag a mug without it falling on your head and then started the coffee machine. It hissed and roared to life, and you went around the kitchen, opening cabinets and closing them. 

Tre cleared his throat. “Are you looking for something?” He asked.

“I’m trying to decide if I want to move things around in here. Or get rid of what we aren’t using. What do you think?” You asked. You lifted on your tiptoes, looking into the spice cabinet. 

“Whatever you think is best, baby,” he said. He cleared his throat again and you looked at him over your shoulder. 

“Are you okay, baby? Do you need something for that throat?” You asked.

“No, ma’am,” he said and flicked the newspaper, returning his attention to it. You moved to grab your coffee, doctoring it up how you liked. Then, you sat at the table with him and crossed your legs, in plain view. Tre watched your movements covertly, a smirk playing about his lips. 

You smirked back. It carried on like this for another week, tension so thick in the house that you could cut it with a knife. He teased you mercilessly with things you’d told him were sexy on him. His loungewear or his jeans. The way he manspread all over the couch. 

You continued to tease him, parading around in your bonnets and pajamas, short shorts, and leggings. You’d caught him staring a few times, biting his lip and that noticeable bulge getting thicker and thicker. 

You were at your wit’s end by the time the following weekend rolled around. He had been consistently coming home, spending more time around the house doing things for himself. Getting back into his vinyl records, playing the odd game, or doing a few pushups and crunches on the floor of your home gym. 

You were in the laundry room, pulling warm clothes out of the dryer and placing it in a wooden basket, when Tre cornered you in the room. He blocked you from leaving and bit his lip, looking you up and down. You weren’t wearing anything revealing, just some gray joggers and a tank top. He looked at you like he could see you naked beneath it.��

Tre hummed and walked into the room, making you back away with a smirk on your face. “You think you’re slick,” he said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said, all sugary sweet and innocent. You adjusted the laundry basket on your hip and continued backing away until your butt hit the countertop. 

The marble surface was smooth and cold on your butt, providing some relief to the raging heat burning through you. Tre leaned in, smelling heavenly. Like green sage and sandalwood. He gently cupped your cheek, pulling you closer and pressing a feather light kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“You’re driving me crazy, please forgive me,” he whispered.

You were tempted. Tempted worse than a kid facing down two cookies if he waited and didn’t eat the first one. You took a deep inhale of his scent, bringing your nose closer to his neck. His thick beard tickled your cheeks but you kept going, wanting to crawl into his skin. 

“Are you going to take me seriously?” You asked.

He groaned, stepping closer. “Haven’t I shown you that I have?” He asked.

“But how do I know that you won’t go running the next time your phone rings?” You asked. 

He sighed, nudging your jaw with his nose. He inhaled your scent as well, breathing in the tropical, fruity lotion you wore. His breath fanned across your overheated skin. Your knees were weak, wobbly, and you were struggling to stay upright. 

As if you summoned the damn thing, his phone rang in his pocket. Your smile dropped, body cooling. You smiled at him, hoping he didn’t see the hurt on your face. “Duty calls,” you sang.

You pushed against his body and he stepped back with a sigh and a frown. You avoided looking at his eyes, walking out of the laundry room. The air had turned stifling in the laundry room but now you had room to breathe. For your heart to calm down. 

You went into the bedroom, wanting to sit on the bed while you folded laundry. But the soft click of the door made you turn around to see Tre. He turned his pockets inside out, showing you that there was no phone. He turned in a slow circle, lifting his shirt, and you got a great view of the curve of his ass and his back. 

He held out his arms. “Phone’s off,” he said, sounding pleased as punch.

You held onto the laundry basket, using it as a barrier. You’d need it. Because if you gave in, if you let your libido speak for you, you were getting pregnant that damn night. After nearly two weeks of teasing and edging, you were ready to combust. Ready to explode. Your fingers curled around the stiff wood of the basket and you smirked.

“Cute,” you said.

He smiled. He stepped forward slowly, looking at you with that cute, mischievous smile on his face. “Forgive me,” he said.

You tilted your head. “Why should I?” You asked. Maybe you could pick a fight and keep him at bay. Keep that fire out of his eyes. He had to stop looking at you like that. Had to stop keeping one hundred percent of his focus on you.

“Because I heard you, baby. I don’t want to wake up five years from now, alone and watching my life pass me by. I want to build with you, grow with you, and show you that I am listening. I will do better because I know that I want you here, home, with me,” he said. 

Was it possible to get pregnant with just a few words? There was a strange twinge in your belly that told you it just might be possible. You wanted to melt into a puddle and grin like a loon. 

“Pretty words,” you said, some part of you enjoying poking him. He was unfazed. He put his hands on the laundry basket. When had he gotten so close? 

He smiled as he gently tugged it from your hands. You stepped forward, not wanting to get rid of your last remaining barrier. That last bit of resistance. You didn’t want to believe this. Didn’t want to get comfortable with it only for him to fall into old patterns and leave you looking like Bozo the clown. 

However, with him looking into your eyes and the way you’d been on edge the past few days, your arms started to slacken. If you didn’t find relief soon, the type of relief only he could give, the next time you brushed against a table you were going to cum on the spot. 

Tre tugged the basket from your hands and placed it on the ottoman at the end of the bed. He invaded your personal space, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “What is it gonna take for you to forgive me?” He asked.

You looked towards the ceiling. You were on fire. You were in shambles. You were not okay with his proximity. It took everything in you not to jump his bones. But you were always folding first. It was time for him to grovel a smidgen.

“I’d have to know that you’re really, really sorry,” you said. You smiled, grabbing his hands and leading him to the bed. He raised an eyebrow, smiling and following you. The back of your legs hit the edge of the bed and you sat down. 

You were eye level with his bulge, growing thicker by the second. He was back in heather gray sweatpants, dick print protruding through the fabric. 

“How can I show that?” He asked, a light teasing in his voice.

You laid back on the bed with a self-indulgent smile. “Ravish me until I say otherwise.” you said.

Tre chuckled, leaning over the bed so that he could start tugging on your joggers and panties. He pulled it off of your legs in one quick snap and you shrieked from the rough action. Perhaps you weren’t the only one at your limit. Ready to snap. 

Tre dropped to his knees, licking his lips as he caught a glimpse of your gleaming pussy. He smoothed his hands on your thighs, nudging them apart. He hummed, getting his first full look in a month and a half. Your pussy throbbed from the look in his eyes. 

His thumbs dug into your meaty thighs, finding pressure points that made your teeth instantly chatter. He leaned forward, taking a deep breath, inhaling your scent. He sighed with his mouth open, air fanning across your damp pussy. Had you known that you were gonna have sex today, you might have cleaned up a little. Freshened up better. 

But Tre had no reservation as he kissed your thighs. Kissed the side of your knees. He moved your thighs over his shoulders, rubbing his nose in your essence. You sighed with a light moan, closing your eyes. This was it. You were going to go off like a bottle rocket any moment. 

“Baby, I want you to know that I am so, very, very sorry. I made you feel alone and I never wanted to treat you that way,” he whispered to your pussy. You almost felt like an intruder. You peeked at him over your belly and saw his eyes completely focused on the center of you. 

His tongue darted out and licked up the slit of your center and you hissed, leaning away from him. With his hands wrapped around your thighs, you had nowhere to go. He successfully immobilized you as he continued to slowly coax you open. Your slick dripped down your pussy and you moaned, thighs tingling. 

“Fuck,” you moaned. Unable to stand it. He had to go faster. Had to get you off as soon as possible. Couldn’t he tell that you were dying over here? 

“I will never, ever, ever, abandon you like that again. You are what is most important to me. I will make sure you know that every day,” he said. He followed up his words with licks and groans, slurping on your essence. Your moans turned into desperate whimpers. 

“Every, single, day,” he said, punctuating every word with a lick to your clit. His lush lips latched on and began to suck, wringing desperate cries from you. Pressure built in your tummy, building and building, going higher and higher, until white light flashed behind your eyes as you came on his tongue.

He moaned, continuing to eat you out through it. You were sensitive as hell, twitching with every new lick, every new moan, every new suckle. But it felt so good, that you were heading into another orgasm. Or it could be prolonged from the first. You weren’t sure as you thrashed your head back and forth, upper body twisting on the bed.

You pushed at his head, tiny cries and whimpers. Tre kept going, grabbing your hands and pinning them to the bed. You whined, moving your hips. But you only managed to move your pussy against his face, his beard tickling your pussy and thighs. 

“Please, baby, please, baby, please,” you chanted.

“Cum f’me one more time,” he groaned. He increased his efforts, abusing your poor little clit. The sensitive bud was driving you insane but you continued to beg for more. You screamed into the room, releasing another orgasm. Tre’s satisfied hum vibrated against your pussy as he licked you until you came back down.

He pulled away from your pussy, long spit chain still connected you two. Your body was on fire, damp with sweat, as you panted and huffed from such intense orgasms back to back. 

“Look at you, All nice and creamy. All wet and ripping. You making a fuckin’ mess,” he murmured. His voice was rough, deep, sending shivers up and down your spine. 

Your pussy clenched and clenched around nothing. You didn’t know if you had another in you, but you were struggling against his hold. You needed him inside you right fucking now. You looked at Tre as he still glanced at your pussy. His beard was shiny with your mess. He finally let you go, wiping more of your juices into his beard, getting it nice and coated. It grew rough in the weeks he wasn’t worshiping your throbbing hole. 

Tre stood up, rubbing the bulge over his pants. You sat up, licking his stomach and then looking up at him. He grinned at you. You grinned back and then bit his stomach, grabbing a big bite without clamping down. Tre chuckled, stomach jostling in your mouth. You released him and smiled.

You tugged his pants down, freeing his long glorious dick. Slightly curved, you missed his dick. You kissed the tip, unable to resist being apart for too long. You looked up at him and then opened your mouth.

Tre chuckled, grabbed the base of his shaft and tapping it against your tongue. He rolled his hips, rubbing his thick head against your tongue. He groaned, throwing his head back for a brief moment. 

“You forgive me, baby?” He asked. He coated your lips with his precum and then slipped back inside your mouth.

“I’m getting there,” you groaned around his dick. It sounded a bit muffled but Tre laughed so he must have heard you. He caressed your cheek with his thumb, looking at you like you hung the moon. 

It sent a wave of feel good chemicals flooding your system and you closed your mouth around his dick. Tre hissed, pulling out of your mouth. He stroked back inside, holding your face while he face fucked you.

You relaxed your throat and mouth, letting him use you exactly how you needed. You moaned at the salty taste of his precum hitting your tongue. You swallowed what you could, trying to re-learn the shape and feel of his dick. The curve made him accidentally poke your cheek and you looked up at him.

Tre moaned, sighing with a quick, rushed, “fuck.” He continued stroking, taking what he needed from your mouth. You slobbered and slurped on him, getting his dick nice and wet. He slipped out of you suddenly and you whined, looking at him. 

“I wanna cum in that tight, dripping pussy, baby. On them knees,” he said and licked his lip. The gold chain around his neck twinkled from the overhead light. You grinned, getting off of the bed.

You stood up and turned around. Before you kneeled on the bed, Tre stopped you and lifted your tank top off of your shoulders. You lifted your arms and let him pull it off of you. You smiled over your shoulder while Tre kissed your neck. You moaned, tilting your head so he had more access.

His fingers came around your chest, fondling your breasts and pinching your nipples. You moaned, desperate tinny cries. He stepped forward, making you bend over the bed.

You climbed on, bending your knees and sticking your ass in the air. Tre hummed, running his hands over your ass. He squeezed and kneaded, putting you at ease and making you respond to his humming. 

He placed two quick kisses to the globes of your ass, following it up with love bites. “Hey!” You said.

Tre chuckled. “Missed your cute ass. Forgiven me yet, woman? I’m trynna love on you,” he said. 

“I don’t know. I think better with dick inside me,” you said. The air whooshed from your lungs as Tre shoved in, leaving you no room to prepare. You screeched, falling forward onto your face. 

Tre hummed with deep relief, like stepping into a jacuzzi after a long day. You shrieked and shivered, feeling stretched out to the max. Fuck. You forgot how big he was. How deeply and completely he filled you up. 

“Thinking more clearly, baby?” He asked, his voice full of teasing. You could hear the smile in his voice. Fucker. 

You drew in deep breaths, getting acclimated to his size. You got onto your elbows and then stretched your back, giving you a better arch. Tre groaned, pulling back and then slamming back in.

“Fuck,” you choked out.

He repeated the motion, pulling out to the tip and then slamming back in. Your ass smacked loudly against his thighs, wet slaps echoing in the room. 

“Gon’ answer me?” He asked. 

“Fuck, yes, I’m thinking more clearly,” you whined. Your mind was clear. Fuck whatever he did, he just needed to keep stroking into you just as he was doing.

He made it worse. He started increasing his pace, slamming you back on his dick in quick, hard thrusts that shook your whole body with the force of it. You choked on your whines and moans, choked on his dick spearing you from the inside out. 

You creamed on his dick and he moaned. “Goddamn, you feeling so good. So nice and wet, baby. You hear that?” He asked.

You nodded, but eventually let out a squeaky, “yes.” Yes, you heard your pussy sucking him down greedily. Yes, you heard the evidence of your arousal. He made you cum so many times already, but you were building towards another one. 

“Hmm, I feel you clutching this dick. Show me what’s yours, baby,” he groaned. His voice was rough with his arousal, deep with his lust. He stroked so deep, hitting all your good spots. 

He grunted and smacked your ass, gathering some of your slick with his fingers playing with your clit. You cried out and jerked forward, interrupting the rhythm. Tre removed his fingers, picking up the pace once more. Then he brought those wet fingers to your ass, rubbing his thumb around your tight, puckered hole. Your teeth chattered as he continued to push inward, push past that bit of resistance.

Now, you really felt full. “Oh, baby, fuck, please,” you cried out. 

“Be a good little girl and cum on this dick,” he growled.

“Shit,” you whispered as you did just that, flooding his dick with fresh slick. He slipped more easily inside of you, grunting as you clenched around his throbbing dick. He moaned, increasing his strokes until he was soon following after.

His hot cum shot inside of you, painting your creamy walls with his cum. Your back bowed and he wiggled his thumb in your ass. Drool leaked from your lips as you came down from your climax.

Tre slowed his movements, pumping the last of it inside of you. He stilled his hips, kept you plugged up with his dick. You shivered and twitched on him, completely spent and out of breath. He kissed down your spine, rubbing your back. You groaned. Somehow, he zeroed in on your problem areas, the parts of your back that ached and ached all the time. 

“Baby? You forgive me?” He asked.

You whimpered. He expected you to talk after something like that? You needed at least two days to recover. 

“I forgive you, baby. Just…please don’t do that again,” you said, your voice small. Tre stilled with his lips against your back. He nodded once and then nodded again like he was confirming for himself as well. 

“I won’t. I’ll be right here with you,” he promised. He softened inside of you and slowly slipped out. You groaned. Tre spread your asscheeks and watched his cum slowly glide out of your pussy.

He cursed softly. “Need to do this more often, you made such a mess,” he said.

You chuckled. You were a limp noodle at the moment. You were unable to move a muscle. Not a single twitch. Tre kissed your cheek, smacking your ass lightly while he went to grab a washcloth. He cleaned you off and then got onto the bed with you.

He pulled you into the crook of his arm, snuggling against your back. Your ass wiggled against his dick.

“Behave,” he grunted. He pulled you as far as you were able to go and wrapped his strong arms around you. You stayed in bed for the rest of the day, talking and laughing, and enjoying each other like you used to do.

You only left the bed long enough to get food, laughing your way back to each other. Renewing your commitment to each other with every smile, every joke, and every twinkle in your eyes.

There's more Tre to love! The Secret Tre Files

[hurts2think]

saw you wanted hook x reader requests so i thought i'd send smth in!! can you do hook x gn light fairy? like from the tinkerbell movies! love your stories <33

🏴‍☠️Young!James Hook x Reader🏴‍☠️

Reader pronouns: They/them

Pairing: Young!James Hook x GN!Reader

Plot: You are a light fairy from Pixie Hollow who started attending Merlin Academy! Due to your fairy like magic, you were set to help decorate for Castlecoming. But you became a little distracted with it and your hooked boyfriend had to come convince you to prepare yourself for the dance.

Word count: 1.6k

Extra: I was going to do this one sooner but I struggled so hard to think of a plot for it. Super cute idea though! Thank you so much as always🫶

Castlecoming only happened once a year, and it was also your first Castlecoming. For most of highschool you lived in Pixie Hollow with all of the other fairies and so naturally you had the typical fairy schooling. Which didn't consist of much traditional education and more like being trained in your special skill. And yours was light.

It always sounds kind of lame at first when you say it, but it's actually pretty nice to have. Being able to move light beams, rainbows, and have glowing hands whenever you wanted made for some fun party tricks and even got you a spot in helping out with the theatre department pretty often. Helping with lights and making the set look just a little more colorful.

And now, for Castlecoming, you were helping decorate for it. You helped with some of the planning but you were also going to come in after the basic preparations were done and put your own finishing touches just a couple hours before the dance.

You started inside where the food and most of the dancing would be, moving the moonlight in the window to twist and turn in unnatural ways that would reflect off of the colorful glass decorations and filling the entire room with colors.

Then you moved on to the garden that a few of the couples would be hanging out after dancing or just to get away from the crowd.

You opened the palm of your hand and little speckles of light started to appear in it, you then tossed them into the air and little star shaped lights hung in the trees, making the garden glow softly.

You decided another batch of those might be better since it was still quite hard to see. So you open your palm and speck by speck a little light appeared in your hand but before they could all finish even forming, you felt a hand on your shoulder.

The sudden touch made you jump and let out a yelp. You quickly turned on your heel, throwing your hand up in defense

"Ow—!"

The source of the hand yelped in pain. It was your boyfriend! James Hook. Your boyfriend that you accidentally just casted a dozen lights in his eyes.

"Oh my gosh! James! I'm so sorry, are you okay?" You quickly ask, covering your mouth in shock as you clearly did not mean to do that.

He held one hand over his eyes as he stumbled back, "It's fine, I'm fine." He grunted, obvious his eyes stung and were in fact not fine.

Once he was able to stand up straight his eyes fluttered open and closed until he could somewhat see again. Then when you could conclude that he was okay, you gently hit his shoulder, "Why would you sneak up on me? Were you trying to scare me and get your eyes burned off?" You scold, your eyes narrowing.

"No!" He quickly defended, "Well, yes actually. I was trying to scare you. But I didn't think you'd be armed!" He huffed before waving his hand to dismiss it, "Nevermind. What are you even doing?" He asked, raising a brow.

It was pretty usual for Hook to sneak up on you. 50% of the time it would end with him laughing at you and teasing you about it for the next hour, and the other 50% would end with him somehow getting hurt and then immediately trying to dismiss it out of embarrassment.

"What do you mean? I told you I was helping decorate. And there's not really a point in me doing all of the lights before it's night, then I'd just have to reset everything." You sigh, restarting with the specks of light in your hand and tossing the second batch into the trees again.

You turn back to Hook, now being able to properly see him in the light

He tilted his head slightly and raised a brow, "Castlecoming is in an hour. You should be getting ready, yeah?" He asked, taking a couple steps closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close to him.

You could feel heat rising to your face as he pressed himself against you, forcing you to break eye contact, "Yeah but I'm not done. It needs to be perfect."

You try to pull away but he didn't let you escape to easily.

He spun you around, catching you in his arms again with a grin, "But if you're late, who will I dance with?"

A smile couldn't help but find its way on your face, "You're not ready either! We'd both be late." You chuckle, taking Hook by his hook for a hand and tugging on it slightly in a playful manner.

"I s'pose you're right. But we both know you take forever to get ready."

"Not true!" You rebut, letting go of him and pulling away, "I'll just be a minute longer, I swear. Just a couple more things!"

But just as you turned away, you felt that hand snake up onto your waist again from behind as your boyfriend rested his chin on your shoulder, "You've been stressed about this for months, darling. No need to be stressed up til the last minute. Part of the fun is getting ready. Bring your camera and we'll take pictures before the dance." He suggests. You're not looking at his face but you can tell he brought out those eyes that were impossible to resist. You turn your head to look at him and you were right.

Only it was worse, the light glowing from the trees shined on his eyes, making them twinkle.

You finally let out a defeated sigh, "Fine."

"Another win for me." He grinned, obviously proud of himself for convincing you, "I'll see you in an hour, bug."

You roll your eyes, "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not a bug! I'm a fairy." You insist but he's already walking away from you to go get ready himself. He was lucky his accent was so attractive. He could say anything and you'd swoon.

----

Only an hour had past and you were ready. You got ready as quickly as you could, styling your hair and putting on your outfit for the dance. As a final last decision, you place teeny tiny specks of light into the seams of your clothes to make them shimmer and glow.

You also decide to let your wings out, sprinkling some pixie dust on them incase you needed to fly, and just to make them look a little prettier. You smile at yourself in the mirror before checking the time and realizing you're about to be late.

You rush out of your dorm and to the party.

Once you're there you see a couple friends, saying hi to them and complimenting how nice they look. But you were in a rush to find one person and one person only.

You had to push yourself through all the people who's dresses and suits glowed under your stary lights you put up. Even the pond in the garden shined like never before.

There he was, sitting on a bench and fidgeting with his Hook as if he was nervous.

The way the lights shined on his skin and against his hair was beautiful, his pirate inspired suit made you swoon, and the nervous look on his face made your heart race.

Once he saw you in the corner of his eye, his head suddenly perked up and he took no time to stand up and approach you, "Wow, you look..." He slowly looked you up and down, taking his time to really look at all of you, "Ravishing." He grinned, admiring how you looked. Sparkling in the dark, making everyone and everything around you a little brighter.

You laughed and brought him into a hug, "As do you," you smile, "You weren't nervous while waiting for me, were you?" You ask with a teasing smirk.

His hand fell down to your hip and he scoffed, "Me? Nervous? I'm a pirate of the Neverland Seas. We don't get nervous." He said though he really did sound like maybe he was just a little nervous. It was your first dance together afterall.

"Yeah, whatever. Don't be so worried." You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and looking into his eyes, causing his face to flush a slight red.

"I think you're the one worried. Worried that I might be the better looking one tonight," He gave a teasing wink and leaned in to kiss you.

But before he could, you teasingly push his face away, "Hey! You don't get to say that and think you're allowed to kiss me afterwards," You raise a brow with a smirk.

"Alright, alright. You're the better looking one." He admitted, "But I do have better charisma." He smirked, gripping your waist firmly and pulling you into a dip, kissing you on the lips.

It caught you a little off guard but you kissed back, smiling into the kiss. As you kissed, Hook teasingly and carefully dragged his hook across your wings. The action made you shiver and instinct I've push him away, "Stop that." You demand, though you didn't actually mind. It just tickled.

"Fine, I'm sorry." He smirked, pushing his face into the crook of your neck and kissing it.

That only tickled too, making you laugh, "You're lucky I love you so much. Or I'd seriously knock some sense into you." You threaten playfully.

"Awe, the little fairy's gonna knock some sense into me? I believe it." Hook sarcastically remarks.

The playful banter is what you lived for. It's what made this all so fun. Highschool here was always better than at Pixie Hollow. You had friends, real classes that you were actually interested in, fun dances, and an amazing boyfriend. Your life really felt perfect for once.

Your slow dance by the glittering pond with your favorite person made you know that you made the right decision being here rather than anywhere else in the universe.