#books based in boston

[dark-ink-drinker]

Starting 2023 With...

I'm getting a slow start on my reading goals of 2023, already 2 weeks in and just finishing my first book. I think this might be a year of sequels and series-- because after this one I've got a couple others (The First to Die at the End by Adam Silvera, the sequel to They Both Die In the End; and The God of Lost Words and The Archive of th Forgotten by AJ Hackwith, the series started by The Library of the Unwritten.)

I think I mentioned last year that I'd been avoiding Colleen Hoover, assuming her popularity meant she was overhyped. Plus romance isn't really my thing... In theory at least, though subplot of a love story seems to be my very literal jam when reading. Anyway, maybe it was my mood or mental state the last half of last year, but I did actually enjoy the 3 books of hers I read, especially Reminders of Him and It Ends with Us. So, I was interested to see this sequel and more of Atlas and Lily's story. I won't like, I thought it was going to be a prequal based off the title so color me surprised to find out it takes place where It Ends with Us Left off.

I think the problem with sequels sometimes is that you're not getting anything new. The characters are who they are, who you already know. You may get new scenes, new perspectives, the other side of a story you already hard-- but the characters, the reactions, the results are exactly what you'd expect from them.

You get to see Lily as a mother, yes that's new. But she approaches motherhood with the same fear and care that you would expect from someone trying to break the cycle of abuse, who remembers what it was like to grow up witnessing her father's abuse of her mother and never wants her own daughter to experience the same.

And yes, while it is surprising that Atlas is as well rounded and levelheaded as he is given his own abusive childhood, he is the same well rounded and levelheaded man in this as he was in It Ends with Us. He's still as loyal and dedicated to his first taste of love, still the white knight who seems to be unfairly and unrealistically flawless.

My next statement has spoilers so stop reading here if you don't want anything, you know... spoiled.

The only big surprise was the reappearance of Atlas's absentee mother and, more importantly, the surprise that he has a 12-year-old brother, Josh.

But if you're hoping for a big surprise in what happens with that-- I'm sorry, Atlas handles it exactly how you'd expect someone as wonderful as Atlas to handle that, white knight savior complex and all.

Now I know all of this makes it sound like I didn't like it, or that I don't like Atlas. But I did like it... and I DO like Atlas. I rooted for him through the first book, desperate for Lily to choose her first love even when Ryle wasn't being a horrible excuse of a person.

Since I mentioned Ryle, let me take a moment to go off on a tangent that I probably should have on my first review but there was more of it in this book and it irked me more. Why Why Why did he get so much leeway for his horrible abusive behavior?! From Lily, from Alyssa, from Marshall-- everyone. In the first book, I thought maybe it was to show the layers of life, situations, relationships... that sometimes things aren't black and white. But to know his sister and brother-in-law/best friend don't step in and make him accountable for his own behavior. Ryle spends all his time after every tantrum blaming Lily, or her relationship with Atlas instead of his own issues. Instead of taking action to fix his own shit. And in It Starts with Us, when Lily wants to set some ground rules with Ryle at their family dinner, Alyssa and Marshall do BARE MINIMUM to support Lily and she cries over their support... WTF.

Anyway, back to the main point-- I did like this book despite my criticisms. It's a good book for people who always want a little more, who wonder what comes after the last page, or who like to have a crisp clean ending leaving nothing to imagination.

It was soft and warm and tied everything up in a nice, neat bow. It gave the readers everything they could want-- the love story, the moving in, the wedding, the ready-made family, the dream come true...

and they lived happily ever after.

I did love that Atlas wrote Lily letters, the way she wrote to her diary 'Ellen' in the first book.

My favorite part was towards the end when Atlas and Josh are talking about Josh's father, on whether he deserved a second chance and his responsibilities as a father:

"It blows my mind that this man has you for a son, and you want to be in his life, yet he still hasn't made and effort. You're a privilege, Josh. Believe me, if I'd known you existed, I would have knocked over buildings to find you."

It was the only section that came close to drawing tears to my yes.

Sweet, delicate; a good, easy read-- but more than likely my last foray into Colleen Hoover's world

I gave it a generous 4 stars on Good Reads, but 3 1/2 is more accurate.

⭐️⭐️⭐️ 1/2

[statusquoergo]

more! original! fiction! (i did warn you guys.)

~*~

Out of nowhere, the air begins to smell like lit birthday candles. What if something accidentally caught on fire, what would happen then? People would run away, probably. Maybe there would be a panic. Someone might call 911.

The smell goes away after a couple of minutes. Someone's whistling; not “Happy Birthday,” it's some tune she doesn't know. It doesn't sound like something they're making up on the spot, though; maybe it's their favorite song, that person, one they listen to all the time. Maybe they don't like it too much but it's the only one they can whistle okay. Maybe they'd rather be singing, but there are too many people around and they don't want that kind of attention, or maybe they have a really awful voice and a terrible memory for lyrics.

Dea rolls over onto her stomach and sets her chin down on the back of her folded hands. Whatever, it doesn't matter.

Well. It probably does to them.

***

“I didn't want to come here.”

“Yes, I know.”

“My parents made me.”

“Did they?”

“My mom made me.”

“Oh?”

“My dad said he doesn't care.”

“How did it make you feel when he said that?”

“He said it doesn't matter if I come here or not.”

“Did that make you angry?”

“He said the first step in solving a problem is admitting there is one, but I won't admit that there's something wrong with me, so I won't get any better no matter what, and it's fine if I don't want to come here anymore because then he can stop paying for something that isn't making a damn bit of difference.”

“Did that make you upset?”

“He didn't say 'admit,' he said I won't 'acknowledge that I have a problem.'”

“Is that an important distinction?”

“I think he probably meant to say 'admit,' I think it's supposed to be 'the first step is admitting you have a problem.' I think it's one of the twelve steps they make you do in Alcoholics Anonymous.”

“Elise?”

“I've never been there, but I saw them on a poster downstairs. The twelve steps. In a list.”

“Last week, you said your mom was upset that you didn't have a lot of friends, do you remember that?”

“Yeah. But she gets upset about everything.”

“Do you think you don't have a lot of friends?”

“I used to have one, but she moved away.”

“Oh? Do you still keep in touch?”

“I was really glad she was going to be in my class, because she's the only girl in my year who wasn't mean to me all the time, but then on the first day of school, I went to my classroom and her name was on the attendance list, but I asked Mister Pruitt where she was and he said she moved away during the summer. But her name was still on the list because they just found out right before the new school year started.”

“Have you spoken to her since then?”

“So, no, we don't keep in touch.”

“How did you feel about that, when you got to school and found out she wasn't there?”

“It was the first day of sixth grade.”

“It sounds like you remember it very well.”

“Yeah, well, it was a traumatic experience.”

“Did you speak to your parents about it?”

“It wasn't really traumatic. I was just eleven.”

“What did your parents say when they found out?”

“I think her name was Stephanie.”

“You think?”

“I wanted to cancel today.”

“I know.”

“My mom made me come.”

“Did she?”

“My dad doesn't care if I come or not.”

“I see.”

“Yeah.”

“Would you like a glass of water?”

“...”

“Sarah?”

“...”

“Sarah, is William here yet for his three o’clock?”

[gubsbuubs]

Friendly Cupid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~ 5K

Warnings/Tags: Fluff, slow burn? smut, creampie.

Summary: Despite their closeness, Y/N and Spencer's relationship always stayed within the bounds of friendship. That's until a very fateful Valentine's Day, when a friend decided to play cupid.

A/N: Hi my loves! The "Friends to Lovers" trope won the poll, thanks to your votes. Any thoughts or suggestions for what's next? I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒

My requests are open!

English is not my first language.

The team basked in a mix of exhaustion and accomplishment as we settled into our seats on the jet, heading back home after successfully closing another case. The subtle hum of the engines seemed to echo the collective satisfaction that enveloped us.

We had just finished a case where the unsub targeted individuals with a deep passion for books. Each victim was chosen based on their preference for a particular literary work. The killer orchestrated scenarios inspired by famous novels, challenging us to decipher the connections between the crime scenes and the literary references.

From my seat across from his, at the meeting table in the Nevada police department's, I observed Spencer in awe. His deep concentration, the way his fingers danced over the pages, and the thoughtful furrow of his brow—he looked so handsome, absorbed in the task of perusing a pile of books that would have taken me at least two years to read.

I cherished watching Spencer at work; his intellect, passion, and dedication were captivating. There was an undeniable admiration that had grown within me as we spent countless hours in shared pursuit of justice.

I vividly recall the first time our connection became something more. After a grueling case left him drained, slowly succumbing to fatigue, his head found refuge on my shoulder during the flight back. It was an unexpectedly intimate encounter—his tousled hair brushing against my neck and the faint scent of lemon shampoo lingering close to my nose. Though innocent, the closeness left an indelible mark, and often I think about the weight of his head resting against me.

Fast forward to another sweet moment; it was forever engraved in my mind when I first noticed that he cared for me. Spencer and I were staked out in a park that an unsub used to frequent in Boston. The autumn winds whispered through the colorful foliage, and the chilling breeze made my arms shiver. It was getting cold, and I scolded myself for not bringing my jacket. Spencer, ever observant, noticed how I hugged myself for warmth and asked, "Hey, are you cold?"

"What? No, it's just a bit chilly, but I can take it," I chuckled, my teeth almost clacking against each other as I shivered.

"I can clearly see you're cold, Y/N."

"Okay, fine. I may be a little bit cold; we left in a hurry, and I forgot my jacket," I admitted.

Without hesitation, he took off his FBI jacket and handed it to me. "No, Spencer, I can't accept this. If it's cold for me, it will be cold for you too," I protested.

"Compared to men, women have less muscle, which is a natural heat producer. They also have 6 to 11 percent more body fat than men, which keeps the inner organs toasty but blocks the flow of blood carrying heat to the skin and extremities." He started to ramble while holding the jacket in front of me.

So I gave up, not wanting to hear him talk about this for the rest of the night, and accepted his offer. As the jacket touched my body, I could still feel his warmth, and the scent of his perfume enveloped me. His tall stature made the jacket too big for me, and I struggled with the oversized jacket's zipper. Looking down as I tried to zip it, I felt his hand on mine. "Hey, come here! Let me help you." I looked up to meet his beautiful brown eyes as he held his gaze on mine. His gentle hands zipped up the jacket. "There you go; now you'll feel warm," he added with a sweet smile.

We had a connection—an undeniable force drawing us together. For example, with Spencer and I, the casual "sorry, Y/n, passing through" was never just a phrase; it accompanied the gentle press of his hand on my side.

When shared laughter ensued, it almost always led to a playful nudge against my shoulder, a light and affectionate gesture.

And there were times when Spencer would reach out with a reassuring touch on my arm during tense discussions or a challenging moment. His fingertips, feather-light yet grounding, conveyed a silent reassurance that we were in this together.

I’d like to think that our connection extended beyond the realm of solving cases and catching serial killers, finding roots in those quiet spaces between words, because unspoken sentiments resonated louder than any conversation we had.

These simple and innocent touches left me curious, especially considering Spencer's general aversion to physical contact, often sidestepping handshakes. Each touch, though understated, carried a significance that lingered, prompting me to ponder the depths of our friendship.

Yet, somehow, we were never more than friends. Perhaps because of the lingering fear of disrupting the delicate balance we had, I hesitated to act upon the emotions that quietly blossomed within.

So, Spencer and I stayed comfortably within the boundaries of friendship, keeping the unexplored depths of our connection confined to the realm of what-ifs and maybes.

Rather than risking it all, I chose the simplicity of silent observation and opted for the quiet intimacy of just watching him while he worked. There was an unspoken fascination with witnessing Spencer's mind at play.

The breakthrough came when Spencer uncovered a pattern in the victims' book preferences, his face lighting up at the realization. The Unsub, it seemed, orchestrated his killings based on the ominous narratives found within these chosen novels. Each victim unwittingly acquired a literary prelude to their tragic end as the killer turned the pages of their lives into a haunting script of their own demise.

With this knowledge, we were able to predict the next target and swoop in just in time to prevent another tragedy. The final confrontation took place in an abandoned library, where the unsub attempted to stage his twisted interpretation of a tragic love story. With swift and coordinated action, we thwarted his plans and brought justice to the victims.

So, with the unsub's twisted plans foiled, we found solace in the fact that we had saved the couple from his dark intentions.

Amidst the chatter on the jet, the mood shifted to a more relaxed and celebratory tone. The weight of the case had dissipated, replaced by a comforting conversation and shared laughter.

"Hey, Prentiss, any hot plans for Valentine's Day? Morgan teased, giving Emily a mischievous grin.

"Valentine's Day? Seriously, Morgan? After all the chaos of this week, I just want a quiet night with a good bottle of wine," Emily responded, leaning further into her seat.

"Valentine's Day is this weekend, and I completely forgot! Will and I will have to just stay at home," JJ confessed, sounding a bit bummed.

"Well, Beth and I will be taking Jack to the cinema to watch a movie. Would you like us to also take Henry so you and Will can have a date?" Hotch offered.

"Oh, Hotch, that’s very sweet. If you don't mind, yes! We would really appreciate it," JJ replied gratefully.

"What about you, pretty boy? Got any plans?" Morgan playfully mussed up Spencer's hair.

"Well… I…” He cleared his throat. "I, um… I actually do have a date," Spencer stammered, his face immediately turning a bright shade of red.

"A date, Reid? Come on, spill the details. What's her name?" Morgan proceeded to probe.

“It's a blind date, so I'd rather not jinx it by talking about it.” Spencer spoke with a faint smile.

As I learned about Spencer's date, I couldn't help but laugh to myself at the sheer coincidence—both of us had blind dates on Valentine's Day. What were the odds?

Then it hit me, and as much as I tried to dismiss it, there was a subtle pang of envy that Spencer also had a date. I understood the irony of feeling jealous while I was also going on a blind date this weekend.

Earlier that week, my friend from the previous division I worked in—International Affairs and Counterterrorism—set me up with a guy. According to him, this guy was perfect for me—smart, kind, and seemingly attuned to my taste. So, I've decided to give it a shot and go on this date. It was Valentine's Day after all. So yes, I was also going on a date, and I acknowledged how contradictory it sounded to feel envious of Spencer's date. Nevertheless, a twinge of jealousy lingered.

Yet, in the grand scheme, I genuinely wished for Spencer to have a fantastic time this weekend. After all, we were nothing more than friends, and his happiness was something I truly valued.

Morgan, with a playful glint in his eye, turned his attention to me and chimed, "Alright, Reid's stepping into the world of romance, so what's the deal, Y/N? Any Valentine's plans on your agenda?"

"No, I don't really have plans. It'll be a normal weekend for me." I spoke with a smile, gently sidestepping Morgan's inquiry. I preferred to keep certain aspects of my life private, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

Saturday night came around pretty quickly.

I chose a simple red dress and black stilettos for the occasion—it was Valentine's Day, after all, and opportunities for dates were not a frequent occurrence for me. Since joining the FBI, I haven't had many opportunities to look like this. Typically reserved for pantsuits and white shirts, it was refreshing to see myself look so put-together.

What awaited me on this evening could be a mistake or, just maybe, the start of something unexpectedly wonderful. Despite the flutter of reservations in my stomach, I resolved to push through the uncertainty.

Before stepping inside, I paused at the entrance, reminding myself to take a deep breath; it was just a date after all—no need to be nervous. The restaurant, my absolute favorite, bore the name "Bella Luna," renowned for its delectable pastas. It had become my go-to spot for a delightful meal, offering a perfect blend of cozy ambiance and culinary excellence.

My friend, the mastermind behind this blind date, had given the gentleman a specific directive: reserve the table with a view of the river—my favorite spot in the house. This strategic move not only catered to my preferences but also had the practical benefit of simplifying the identification of my date.

As I stood by the entrance, lost in my thoughts, I almost jumped, caught by surprise, as someone bumped into me. "Hey, where were you goi..."

“Y/N! Hi!” His eyes were widening with surprise as he recognized me.

“Spencer! Hi! I didn't expect to see you here.”

“I could say the same thing. Didn’t you say you didn’t have plans?” He asked in an inquisitive tone.

"Yeah!" I laughed nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I, uh, decided to give in to the Valentine's Day spirit, I suppose." Spencer chuckled softly, his warm demeanor putting me at ease.

"How are you anyway, feeling good about your blind date?" I inquired, genuinely curious about his well-being.

"To be honest," he admitted, "I'm actually kind of nervous."

"What? Why?"

He hesitated before sharing, "What if she doesn't like me?"

"Why wouldn't she like you?" The words left my mouth so fast, a testament to my incomprehension of how someone could not like the guy standing before me.

"Because I'm weird. I slouch; my hair's too long; my tie's perpetually crooked." His words were almost a whisper, revealing a vulnerability I hadn't seen before.

I smiled softly, reaching  my hands to fix his crooked tie. "Here, your tie is now straight. And Spencer, you're not weird; you look really good tonight. I think you'll do very well."

He smiled softly, thanking me, and said, "Well, you do too! You look very beautiful tonight, Y/N.” My heart skipped a beat at the unexpected compliment. He blushed slightly before adding, “I should really get going. I don't want to be late for my date.”

“Go get him, tiger,” I encouraged with a smile as I stayed behind, watching him leave.

Fuck, he looked so good; his dark blue suit fit him in all the right places. Though not a radical departure from his usual attire, the effort put into his appearance fueled my jealousy. The realization that he was heading on a date with someone else lingered in my thoughts, intensifying the sting.

To make matters worse, we´re at the same restaurant, and I would have to endure the evening watching him, attempting to engage in my own date while inwardly yearning for his company.

The challenge would be to keep my eyes from straying towards him, wishing the girl by his side was me.

Shaking my head to dispel thoughts of Spencer, I took a deep breath before entering the restaurant. I traversed the restaurant, consciously keeping my head down until I arrived at the table with the view of the river, and it was only then that I allowed myself to look around.

To my surprise, when I looked at the table, I found Spencer sitting there.

Confusion clouded my mind as I stood there, staring at Spencer, seated at the table, facing away from me. Disbelief hung in the air like a heavy fog. This had to be a misunderstanding; it couldn't be Spencer. My friend John specifically directed the blind date; he arranged for me to sit at this table, but Spencer was here.

The possibilities raced through my mind like a whirlwind of uncertainty. Did the receptionist make an error? Could there be another table with a view of the river where they seated my actual blind date? Could this guy look a lot like Spencer from behind? My thoughts spiraled into a maze of questions, each more perplexing than the last. I was caught in a web of doubt, trying to grasp the reality of the situation.

Could Spencer and John know each other? How would they even know each other? Although we all work at the FBI, they work in totally different divisions.

As I approached the table, just a few feet away, I confirmed my suspicion: it was him—Spencer. Even though he wasn't facing me, I recognized his curls, almost catching a whiff of his distinctive perfume. It was undeniably him. How did this happen?

My heels clacked on the ground, a sound that drew Spencer's attention. His gaze shifted, expecting another woman, preparing for a polite greeting. "Hi, nice to meet y…” His words now caught in his throat.

As I pulled the chair and sat down in front of him, he halted his movements, confusion etched on his face. It seemed like he was ready to stand up, perhaps shake hands, and greet another person. But as he realized it was me, his expression transformed into one of utter bewilderment.

"Y/N, what is going on?" Spencer asked, his face a mix of confusion and concern as he settled back into his chair.

I leaned forward, my elbows resting on the table. "How do you know John Watters, Jonathan Watters?" I questioned, peering at him with an intense gaze.

"What? What do you mean, Y/N?" Spencer replied, clearly confused by the sudden turn of events.

"Spencer, how do you know John?" I repeated, my eyes locked onto his, seeking an explanation for the unexpected twist in our supposed blind date.

"John Watters and I play chess in the park. We met a couple of months ago, and now we play together regularly," Spencer explained, his confusion still evident in his expression. “Y/N, what is going on?” he added, his brow furrowing in concern.

“Spencer…” I began, a faint smile creeping onto my face as it reddened, my hands immediately meeting my face. It dawned on me; John had set us both up, and it seemed he might not have known Spencer and I already knew each other.

I could see the wheels turning in his head, his eyes widening. He seemed to have a eureka moment. "Do you know him?" he asked, his tone still a little unsure. I only nodded, my faint smile hidden behind my fingers, covering how embarrassed I was.

Then Spencer fired questions left and right. "What? How do you know John?” He set you up with me. Like… did you know? You wanted to have a date with me and asked him to do it? I mean, I have talked…." He was blushing like crazy, so I decided to interrupt.

"No, No... I mean, yes, but..." I stumbled on my words as I tried to answer. "I do know John, yes, but I didn't know he set us up... But yes, I wouldn't... I wouldn’t mind a date with you." The last part slipped my tongue way too quickly, the confession escaping my lips.

"Are you serious? A date with me?" He sounded excited but mostly surprised.

"I mean, we're already here, so we might as well do it. He clearly thought we were a good pair," I offered, keeping my head down. My face felt hot, and I was smiling like a stupid little kid.

“I can't believe this; I can't believe this is happening. You don't know how long I've been trying to gather the courage to ask you out, and now this is happening." His head fell back as he inhaled deeply. “Is this real? Can you pinch me, Y/N? You look so pretty, so beautiful. I can't believe this is actually happening. I must be dreaming." His excitement was palpable, and his gaze was fixed on me with a mix of joy and disbelief.

“You're definitely awake; this is real!” I reached out my hand to him and held his hand. “See, this is real—a very strange coincidence, but undeniably real.”

The evening unfolded gracefully. Spencer took my recommendation, and we ordered the Carbonara, complemented by a shared bottle of Cabernet. I couldn't help but savor the moments when our laughter harmonized, creating a melody of shared joy. A subtle warmth spread across our faces, not just from the ambiance but also from the wine. Our laughter became a touch more carefree, perhaps a little tipsy, adding an extra layer of delight to the evening. The restaurant seemed to fade into the background as we continued to enjoy each other’s company.

As the plates were cleared away and the restaurant emptied out, Spencer's gaze remained locked on mine. We sat in silence for a little bit as a warm feeling settled, enjoying the lingering aura of the evening. Spencer smiled softly, leaning closer to me and taking my hands in his. "Let me walk you home," he suggests. "It's a beautiful night, and I'd love to spend more time with you."

As we stepped out into the crisp night air, the city lights played on the surface of the river, casting a gentle glow on our path. Spencer and I began to stroll along the riverbank towards my apartment. The soft murmur of the water provided a soothing background to our conversation, and amidst our banter, our attention was drawn to an old lady with a basket of roses.

"Hello there," the old lady said, greeting Spencer with a twinkle in her eye. "Would you like to buy a rose for your beautiful girlfriend?"

"Oh, but I'm not his girlf..." Before I could clarify, Spencer, wearing a confident smile, chimed in, "Yet..." He told the sweet lady "So yes, I would love to buy her a rose." He turned to me with a playful glint in his eyes.

The old lady chuckled warmly. "Here you go, young man, a rose for your not-yet-girlfriend. May your love bloom as beautifully as this rose," she said, handing the vibrant flower to Spencer.

I thanked him as he handed me the rose, appreciating the beautiful gesture. We then continued our walk, the soft glow of the city lights guiding our way.

"So, a rose for the 'not-yet-girlfriend'," I teased, a playful smile on my lips.

"Well," he began, "I thought a rose might be a good start, but who's to say what the future holds?"

"Fair enough," I replied, a teasing glint in my eye. "A rose is a good start but what's your plan for the rest of our 'not-yet' journey?"

"Well, I've had a lot of time to think about this," he began, a sly grin playing on his lips. "I won't disappoint you, that's for sure."

I felt a subtle warmth spread—a mixture of curiosity and excitement. "Is that so?" I replied with a playful glint in my eye. "I guess I'll have to wait and see what surprises you have in store.”

As we continued our walk to my apartment and reached my doorstep, the night seemed to invite us to linger a little longer.

"I had a lot of fun, Y/N. I regretted every moment we weren't doing this sooner," Spencer confessed.

"I loved this night too, Spencer," I began, a genuine warmth in my voice. "This is not how I imagined my night ending at all; I definitely never expected you to be my blind date."

"I just can't believe this happened. Who would have thought you would go on a date with me?" His soft hand reached for mine; his touch was warm and inviting.

"Well, Jonathan apparently did," I laughed, the surreal nature of the evening sinking in.

"Of course, he thinks I want to date you. I talk about you all the time..." Spencer shyly admitted, his gaze avoiding mine.

"Wait! You talk about me?" My voice lifted with happiness.

"Well, I just tell him about my day... and how I love being by your side. You're so understanding, always listening to me. Your attentive gaze makes my heart skip a beat, and your eyes, Y/N, they sparkle so beautifully. And your smile—oh, it's the prettiest I've ever seen." His words were tender, and his brown eyes never left mine. "Jonathan never told me he knew you; I guess he sensed I was too scared to act upon my feelings and took matters in to his own hands." He chuckled. "And now you're here, and we went on this date—a wonderful date, may I add—and you look absolutely stunning."

As Spencer's words lingered in the quiet night, I felt a soft warmth enveloping us and an unspoken connection deepening.

"I would really to kiss you." He whisperd. His gaze held a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability, mirroring the sentiments that resonated within me.

"You know what, Spence?" I began, a gentle smile playing on my lips. "I'd really like that too."

His eyes brightened with joy, and as if a shared understanding passed between us, he leaned in slowly. His hands cradled my face, creating an intimate connection as he closed the remaining space between us. The world around us faded into a soft blur as our lips finally met.

The kiss was tender, his lips warm and inviting, and the sensation sent a pleasant shiver down my spine.

As we pulled away, a shared smile painted across our faces, our foreheads pressed together in a moment of quiet closeness.

"Wow," Spencer whispered.

"Wow indeed," I replied, my heart echoing the sentiment.

"I've been waiting so long to do this," he said, kissing me again, this time with more force and desire.

The kiss deepened, his lips pressing against mine with a newfound intensity, fueled by the longing we had both harbored for so long. It was a fusion of heat and tenderness, with each movement deliberate and purposeful.

His hands, which had cradled my face so gently before, now moved with a purpose, exploring the contours of my back and waist. The taste of him was intoxicating—a blend of warmth and desire that left me breathless.

"Spencer," I began, feeling our breaths mingle. "Would you like to come in?

Spencer's eyes darkened in response, his nod signaling his agreement.

As the door shut behind us, I carefully placed the rose he gave me on a small side table by the entrance, wanting to preserve the sweet gesture. Spencer, without saying a word, pulled me against him again.

I guided us through the familiar space of my home with an urgency that spoke of unspoken desires. As we reached the bedroom, our bodies entwined again.

I laid back on the bed, letting my body sink into the softness of the mattress. Spencer's body was right above mine, and our lips met in a hot, messy kiss. It was like everything else melted away, and all that was left was us in this moment. I could feel the heat of his body on top of mine, and the rush of intimacy was palpable. I wanted this moment to last forever, clinging tight to his every touch.

Spencer's hands glided along the curves of my body, caressing me with an intimacy that left me wanting more. His lips left mine to roam lower, descending slowly towards my breasts. A shiver of anticipation ran down my spine, and my breath caught in my chest.

Spencer's voice broke through the intensity. "Are you sure?"

A smile played on my lips as I whispered, "Yes, please Spence."

The sudden touch of his finger on my skin sent a shiver down my spine as his hand slowly drifted down my shoulder and pulled the strap of my dress down. As my nipple became exposed, he kissed it gently, sending a wave of arousal through my body.

He looked so pretty like this; his smooth hand cradled my breast as his lips left soft kisses. His slow hums of satisfaction were accompanied by the thrusts of his hips against my clothed core.

Sensing the escalating desire between us, Spencer then took the initiative, smoothly pulling my dress off. I felt exposed as his hands traveled down my body, lowering himself and planting soft kisses on my stomach.

"You look so beautiful and you smell so good." His whispers of admiration filled the air. "I bet you taste even better." He placed a soft kiss where I wanted him the most. I moaned at his words, not expecting them.

He then proceeded to slide my panties to the side, slowly licking a long stripe. The warmth of his tongue against my skin sent shivers through my body, and the anticipation built with every teasing touch.

“Fuck, it's even better than I imagined." His words were muffled as he spoke from between my legs, looking into my eyes. My moans filled the room, joined by the sound of his mouth devouring my wetness. My hands met his hair as I pulled him closer by his curls.

"Spencer..." My voice caught in my throat.

"What, baby?" The enduring name leaving his lips made my heart flutter.

"I need you," I pleaded.

"Need me to what, baby?" His middle finger breached my entrance. "Use your words," he said, caressing my opening. The sensation of his finger chills of pleasure down my spine. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, and I could feel a rush of arousal building inside me. "I need you inside, please," I begged, moving my body against his.

Sensing my urge, he stood, undressing me and then himself. "Since you asked so nicely," he lined up and slowly sank in, his head resting on my shoulder, and his soft moan muffled on my neck.

Our kisses were slow and passionate, our lips brushing against each other with every movement of our bodies. His hands caressed my body, sending a wave of pleasure through me that only increased with every thrust.

Each rhythmic movement brought us closer to the edge, the intensity growing with each caress and whispered word. "You feel so good, Y/N; it’s like you were made for me." Spencer's voice was laden with desire as I moaned into his lips.

The intensity grew with each passionate thrust, and we were both lost in a world of pleasure. Our bodies were tightly intertwined, pressed up against each other as we let our emotions take over. Our moans filled the room, and our breathing became shallow and fast. We both wanted this moment to last forever, clinging to each other with all the strength we could muster.

"Spencer, I can't,” I cried out.

"Can you hold it for me, just a little, pretty girl?" he said, looking into my eyes. My eyes fluttered, closing at the words.

"No, no, no, keep your eyes on me," he said. "Yes, just like that." He kept thrusting with force, and I couldn't take it anymore. “I want to see your pretty face as you cum, baby.”

"Spence... please inside." I begged him, and that was all it took. I didn't have to wait any longer. The tension in the room reached its peak, and I could feel him release, his climax echoing mine.

Our bodies trembled together in the aftermath, the shared intensity of the moment lingering in the air. The room was filled with the sounds of our rapid breaths and the soft rustle of sheets as we came down from the euphoric high.

As we lay there, a playful smile crossed Spencer's lips. "So, about that 'not-yet-girlfriend' situation..." he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

I chuckled, tracing circles on his chest. "Well, it looks like we just fast-tracked that process."

Spencer grinned. "Guess we skipped a few steps."

I gave him a playful look. "Steps? Who needs steps when you have Jonathan playing cupid?”.

Spencer gave a playful shrug. "Well, I'll be sure to thank the man.”

[cherriesformatt]

boston || matt sturniolo

matt x fem!reader

summary: matt takes reader home to meet his parents and he takes her ice skating for the first time where he used to play hockey

warnings: pure fluff

word count: 1,6k

a/n: Hi!! I combined two requests I hope you're okay with that! I tried my best! Ily <3 I will read proof after work!

based on:

🍒

"Hey...do you want some?" Matt asked me when he opened some kind of cookies.

We were on the plane with his brothers right behind us. It was my first time flying to Boston with them and I am going to meet his family. I was shitting my pants and felt like throwing up because we were hour from landing.

"No, thanks" I smiled at him and went back to my book.

We were flying first class and it was nice and quiet here. I am glad because I was able to read and it kept my mind from stressing out.

"You don't have to be scared, they going to love you I told you that already" Matt said and put his hand on my thigh and stroked it.

"You can't possibly know that" I closed my book and looked at him with my worried eyes.

Matt smiled at me and tucked some of my hair behind my ear. He kissed my nose which made me giggle.

"Yes, I do. Justin is chill and our parents even more. Please Marylou probably already has our picture on the wall and Jimmy will want to take you fishing and hope you will say yes because we always say no" He laughed.

I laughed too.

"Please say no because if you say yes we all will need to go" Nick's head popped out of nowhere in the middle of our seats.

It calmed me down just a little bit. But as we landed it all came back. My palms were sweaty and I was fixing my hair and hoodie every three seconds as we waited for our bags in the baggage claim. Chris made me and Matt to take a picture with "Welcome to Boston" sign. And I probably looked like I saw a ghost.

"Justin just landed too and Mom is going to be here in 20 minutes" Nick said looking at his phone.

We collected our luggage and waited on the chairs for their brother.

"It was not hard to find you...Nick you look ridiculous it is so warm outside snd you wearing fucking Uggs" I heard and my eyes followed the voice.

Justin walked up to us. He was a little shorter than his little brothers and had very similar style to Chris. I wouldn't say he looked similar to them but they only shared a mom and also I knew how Justin looked like from the pictures and videos.

They said hi to their brother and he brought so much energy and made everyone laugh. I could see how boys missed their brother a lot.

"And you must be y/n, it is nice to finally meet you. This one does not shut up about you" He embrace me with a warm hug and I smiled hugging him back.

"That would be me. Its nice to meet you too Justin" I said.

"Smart choice, this one can drive and doesn't talk too much" He joked and I laughed.

"Okay let's go...mom is here" Nick said and we went outside to look for their van.

When we found the car I tried to keep my cool. But it was just so normal to be stressed about it. I never did that before. Meet my partners parents. I never felt about anyone as I felt about Matt. He was so important to me that I just needed for his family to accept me because I knew how much his family was important to him.

We all were friends for almost two years now. Me and Matt started dating like 7 months ago but it was going on for longer than that. We were both just too scared to confess our feelings but one day our friends just couldn't stand us and they set us up with a date. And we talked and talked about feelings for hours and there we are now. I am meeting his parents.

"Hi kids! I missed you so much!" Their mom gave them a hug and a kiss and I stand next to them smiling at how adorable it was.

"Hi honey, you're even more pretty in real life... welcome! I hope the flight wasn't bad for you. Matt told me you do not like flying that much" She gave me a warm smile and hugged me too.

"Thank you Ms. Sturniolo... No, it was all great I am so happy to be here" I said and her aura just made me not stress at all anymore.

"Oh please, call me Marylou, get in, choose the best seat before they all start to fight" She laughed.

Boys put all our stuff in the trunk and got in the back so I did seat in the front with their mom. She was asking me about myself and everything else. The conversation was very easy with her. All the way home we were just talking and catching up.

When we got to their house all the brothers just walked in and straight away were met with their dog. Trev was so happy to see them. He was wiggling his tail.

"Oh.. brothers are back Trevor...look at that happy boy" Their mom smiled.

"And Matty brought you new best friend" She aded happily and I smiled and kneeled to give Trevor my hand to sniff.

"Hi buddy I heard so much about you...you're so cute...oh yes you are" I smiled when he let me pet him.

"Probably more than about me, huh?" Their dad walked out from the living room and smiled.

"Hi everyone!" He said and each of his boys hugged their dad hello.

"Good Morning.." I smiled standing up from the floor.

"Hi y/n, I'm Jimmy" He smiled at me and I shook his hand gently and he stroked my arm warmly.

"It is so nice to see you... We were waiting to meet you I am so glad you could visit with boys. " He said and I smiled even more.

"Me too..." I truly said.

"Okay... we are going to put the stuff away and rest a little bit" Matt said.

"Yes.. You guys go, sweetheart if you would ever need anything let me know... I put extra stuff in their bathroom for you and please feel like it is your house" Marylou said and I smiled.

"Thank you..." I said.

We went to Matt's room and I smiled.

"Your parents and brother are just as you said... I am sorry I was stressing out so much. And your house is just so warm and feels like family and love" I said looking at him.

"I told you... Yes, I love coming back home...nowhere feels like here and now that you are here. I have all I need" He kissed me gently and I wrapped my arms around him.

"I love you.."He said when he moved away and I smiled.

"I love you too" I said back and he smiled and kissed my nose.

He always did that and I loved it. He was so cute for that.

"Okay... I will show you whole house later, you go to the bathroom first and than we can have a nap if you want or whatever. Mom said we can eat dinner together" He said and I nodded.

I loved being in Boston. First few days we all spend together. They were showing me around but also we had family movie nights and game nights. I felt very welcomed and part of the family. Their family was everything I ever wanted for my future family.

"Where are we going?" I asked one evening when Matt told me to dress warmer and take a hat.

"Oh.. remember how you told us you never ice skated before?" Chris smiled at me.

"No way...."I said.

"Oh yes way! We kinda booked our old ice ring for the evening" Nick said and I looked at them.

"Thats so cool! I cant wait to see you guys on ice" I said.

"Thats what they said about you" Nate laughed from the back.

He was also going with us.

Once we were there boys collected all the stuff they needed from the trunk and we went in.

"Here I bought this for you. I will help you put them on" Matt said handing me a box with a smile.

"You bought me ice skates? Matt..."I said and pouted my lips.

He kissed my lips and smiled.

"I always wanted to take you and I do not who actually wanted to see you on ice more me or my brothers" He laughed.

We sat on the bench and he helped be put on the skates after he put his own.

"Ready?" He asked and I looked at rest of the group already skating on ice. They were fast. Matt reached for me with his arms.

"Okay.. but do not let them run me over” I said standing up and not letting go of Matt's arms.

"I would never" He laughed and we slowly entered the ice.

"Yes!! Go y/n!" Nick clapped his hands for me and I smiled but concentrated on keeping myself up. He was filming me.

"Slowly...move your legs like you would roller-skate, you did that before so it should be easier" Matt said.

I did as he asked me and I was able to move myself. He let go of one of my arms.

"I think I got it!" I said happily but it caused me to lose my balance and I somehow fell on my bum.

"Ah..baby are you okay?" Matt helped me up and all of them gathered around me.

"Yes... guys I like fell skating 1 mile per hour and you gathered here like I was gonna die here” I laughed.

We spent all evening on ice and I got okay to the point where Matt wasn't scared that I am going to kill myself. They were also filming for a video. I helped them with the camera and was cheering from the bleachers.

I had so much fun. Here and in general. I already knew Boston had a special place in my heart. Seeing boys how they were here with their family and friends. I knew I would always want to be back here with Matt.

[publicdomainreview]

The first mass-produced book to deviate from a rectilinear format, at least in the United States, is thought to be this beautiful 1863 edition of Red Riding Hood, published by Boston-based publisher Louis Prang. Leaf through its person-shaped pages here: https://publicdomainreview.org/collection/the-first-shape-book-little-red-riding-hood-1863

[mountainsandmayhem]

Tess's Treasures

18+, MDNI

Pairing: Tess x Joel x OC!Female x Female!Reader Summary: After perfecting the art of pickpocketing, you’re invited to join Tess’s Treasures. They’re infamous around the QZ and the initiation process is not what you expect, but exactly what you need. CW: If you’re not into foursomes/bi girl shit then you are in the wrong place. MFFF, bisexual females, fingering, masturbating, oral, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink. Unprotected p in v. Overstim and squirting. Please read this at your discretion. If this isn’t for you, that’s perfectly fine. AN: You can thank @mermaidgirl30 and @littlevenicebitch69 for being good little girls and filling my mind with depraved and twisted thoughts. This fic has truly been a labour of love, taking me almost 6 weeks to put together and edit. I'm not the least bit sorry about the word count, grab a snack, probably some electrolytes and maybe some spare batteries lol. Special shoutouts to @pedritoferg for their kind words when my imposter syndrome had the best of me. As always, dividers and support banners by @saradika-graphics. Friendly reminder that I'm phasing out my tag list, follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates for new fics.

Word Count: 9005

Becoming one of Tess’s Treasures seemed like a fallacy, a pipe dream. A fairytale life only reserved for the most vicious females that prowl the shady streets of the Boston QZ, and you aren’t a killer. A thief, yes; but not a killer. Truthfully, you weren’t even sure if the organization existed. Sure, Tess was a real person, but did she actually have a horde of women she called her Treasures? 

She was infamous in the seedy underbelly of Boston, her and her henchman Joel. Granted, no one ever seemed to see Joel, unless he was about to kill you. And sometimes not even then, he was often hiding in the shadows, shadows darker than the demons that allegedly haunted him.

Outbreak day happened when you were just little, you don’t remember much of the journey from your old hometown to Boston. Everyone here is poor, doing what they can to get credits to buy basic human needs; making trades and swaps were what most people did. You, however, were much more clever. After discovering a book detailing the art of sleight of hand you started practicing, and now you can take anything, right in front of someone's eyes, without them noticing. 

Or so you thought. After stealing a pistol from a FEDRA officer and replacing it with a banana, all while having a conversation with him in broad daylight, Tess approaches you.

“Come to my apartment next week. I wanna see if you have what it takes. Mum’s the word.” It’s a hushed whisper as she passes you, slipping a small card in your back pocket as she goes. 

You follow the cards' instructions, arriving at the exact time, going up to the top floor and then doing two quick, sharp knocks on the worn out door.

“Enter,” Tess says from inside. The door creaks on your way in. It’s the hottest day Boston has seen in years, and even in your small sundress, the room is stifling hot. The air is thick with the smell of gunpowder and something else that you can’t quite put your finger on. There’s a fan oscillating in the corner, the paint chipped off the cage that protects the blades. As it blows warm air past you, you realize that the other smell is sex. 

Tess is sitting on the couch to the right of the door, two mismatched wooden kitchen chairs in front of her. Straight ahead from the door is a small kitchen, and to the back left of the studio style apartment is the bed. Unmade, sheets tousled like someone just woke up, but based on the heady taste of the air in the room, the messy sheets are definitely from two people rolling around in them.

“Come sit,” Tess says firmly. You click the door shut behind you and head to the empty chair that’s waiting for you. The other chair is occupied by a small brunette woman. She has long slender limbs and doesn’t look like someone who would hang out with raiders, poachers and drug runners. Her hands are folded in her lap, ankles crossed under the chair. She doesn’t look over at you.

Tess leans forward, spreading her denim clad legs wide and resting her elbows on her knees. “Do you two know who I am?”

You both nod slowly. Up close, Tess is terrifying. She could have you killed with just a snap of her fingers, and Joel would do it however she wanted. From what you’ve heard, very slowly was her favourite way to have people eliminated from this earth. Quick deaths weren’t something she enjoyed when someone had fucked her over. 

“Speak!” she commands. The brunette jumps and even though you’ve mastered the art of pushing your fears down and masking your emotions, a small butterfly flaps its wings behind your navel. 

“Yes,” you say hoarsely as a meek ‘yes ma’am’ sounds beside you.

“Good. So then you know the….perks of being one of my Treasures,” Tess’s eyes twinkle as she says perks like she knows something you don’t. Like it’s more than the better living arrangements, food and medical care. Better than a sense of family and belonging.

She continues, “I’ve seen both of you at work. You,” her steel grey eyes are laser focused on yours, “With your quick hands, and you,” she adjusts her attention to the petite woman beside you, “With your ability to talk a man into almost anything. Before you can officially call yourself my Treasures, there’s a small matter of your…” Her voice trails, mouth ticking up on one side as she cocks her head and drags her eyes across both of your bodies.

“Well, your initiation.” She leans back onto the couch, knees falling wider. One arm drapes across the back, the worn cushion deflating slightly. The other rests on her thick, toned thigh. “I take care of my girls, but they need to show me that they can listen.”

The air seems thicker, and harder to fill your lungs with. Every move of her eyes is suggestive. Is she saying what you think she’s saying? You feel yourself begin to soak through your panties at the possibility of getting to fuck.

You aren’t left wondering for long as she points a long finger at the girl beside you, “Stand up, take off your clothes.”

“W-what?” the girl sputters. 

“I said to stand up and take off your fucking clothes,” the words almost seem to burn as she repeats herself. 

The girl stands so quickly that the chair falls, making a loud crash against the worn hardwood flooring. She stares at Tess for a moment, unsure if she should pick up the chair before she decides against it and pulls her blue cotton baby tee off, revealing a lacy white bra underneath. 

“That’s it,” Tess groans. “Take off those little shorts next.”

With shaky hands she moves to the button fly, each drag of the metal on denim seems to echo in the silent room. Tess licks her lips as she slides her shorts down her legs and kicks them to the side. “Come here,” Tess says, her voice already husky and deep. The woman walks over to Tess, stopping between her spread legs. Tess’s strong fingers grip the girl's hips and she gasps. “Turn around,” she urges, dragging her fingers along her hips as the mystery girl spins.

“What’s your name?” Tess asks. The girl's bright green eyes land on you and you see her breath hitch in her slender throat. She’s petite, probably a few inches shorter than you and at least a foot shorter than Tess. You’ve always been attracted to both men and women and there’s no denying that this little stranger is absolutely stunning. 

“Lydia,” she croaks.

“Are you nervous, Lydia?” Tess asks, cupping the globes of her ass in her hands, kneading and squeezing. Spreading them gently, exploring what she’s about to claim as hers. 

She nods her head and lets out a shaky moan of agreement.

“Go pick up your chair and sit down, Lydia.” Tess swats her bum as she walks away and Lydia yelps quietly.

Tess’s eyes now come to you. Staring straight into your soul. I’m sure if she could, her eyes would incinerate your clothes right off of you. It’s intoxicating. You, unlike Lydia, are not nervous. Not in the slightest. If anything, Tess’s attention on you only makes you wetter. Your panties are practically soaked through already. “And you, my little thief. What’s your name?”

You say your name confidently and squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease some of the ache that Tess’s newfound attention is bringing to the apex of your thighs.

Tess whispers your name back at you and it sends a shiver down your spine. She continues, “Get on your hands and knees and crawl to me.”

Lydia swallows loudly beside you as you drop to the floor, crawling seductively to Tess, head held high. The worn hardwood planks creak under your weight. Even the floor is warm and sticky from the weather. You make it to her, sitting back on your heels like the good little girl you are. She leans forward and tugs on the hem of your dress and her syrupy voice says, “Arms up”. You lift your ass slightly and she slips your dress up and over your head. It was too hot for a bra today so you’re left in just a lacy pink thong.

“Mmmm, look at those pretty tits,” Tess hums, her fingers gliding along the plush soft skin of your breasts before ghosting over your nipples making the arm whoosh from your lungs. “You like that? Me touching your nipples.”

You breathe out a yes, eyes shutting as she pinches your pebbled buds roughly. “Oh god, yes.”

The old worn couch groans as Tess sits back, “Go take her bra and panties off.”

You climb to your feet and walk over to Lydia, holding out a hand and helping her stand. You move behind her and trail your fingers down the soft skin of her spinal column before popping the clasp of her bra. Lydia slides it off her body, arms crossing to block her now exposed breasts. Goosebumps rise across her from head to toe. You shush her and rub up and down her arms. Lydia relaxes under your touch and she drops her arms, Tess nods at you once, a silent encouragement to continue. You get down on your knees, hooking your index fingers in the waistband of her panties and sliding them down. Her round ass is in your face, she smells like fresh linen and rain. You fight the urge to kiss the sensitive little spot right where her ass crack starts.

“So fucking beautiful. Sit back down, Lydia.” Tess says and you want to cry out in protest. Her body is so enticing, soft and warm. She focuses back on you and says, “Stand in front of Lydia so she can take your panties off.”

You stand gracefully, biting your bottom lip as you maneuver yourself in front of Lydia. “Spread your legs,” you whisper, determined to help her so you can put on the best show for Tess. Lydia parts her knees and you twirl to face Tess, gathering your hair in one hand as Lydia slides your soaked panties down your legs. You kick them to the side and seductively drop your hair, smiling sweetly at Tess.

“Sit,” Tess barks. Lydia gasps behind you, but you like this; being told what to do. Commanded. Used. Tess continues after you sit, “I want you both to touch yourselves. Show me how you like it, but don’t come. You haven’t earned that yet. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am,” Lydia says, looking down at her hands. You nod eagerly, already sliding your ass to the edge of the chair and spreading your legs wide for her. Tess stares at your glistening core hungrily, leaning forward again to rest her muscular forearms on her knees. Her hair falls forward and frames her face. Her expression is hard, like you don’t want to disobey her in these moments. Brows are slightly knit together, lips in a thin line. She looks beautiful and dangerous, but as you bring your pointer and ring fingers to your entrance she softens a little, cocking her head to the side slightly. 

Lydia keeps her legs closed, slipping a finger down her slit and rubbing slowly from side to side. She whimpers silently beside you, glancing at you nervously. Your fingers easily slip inside of your soft, dripping hole. 

Tess’s eyes dance between the two of you. “Two very different girls,” she says to the room, neither of you stopping what you’re doing, both determined to become a part of her Treasures. “One of you seems shy, but I can work with that. Help you get out of your shell. And then there’s you,” her focus locks on you as she gets up with a grunt and saunters over to you. “You are a little whore, aren’t you? So eager to please.”

You feel yourself getting wetter at her attention and mean words. She pets your head lightly a few times, laughing quietly at how you lean into her touch, your eyes fluttering closed. Just as your lashes hit your cheeks she grabs a handful, pulls hard and gets within inches of your face. “You’re going to be a problem, aren’t ya?”

“No,” you gasp, your orgasm right on the precipice, so you slow your motions. “I’ll be good, Tess.”

“Did I say you could slow down?”

“I - I’m gonna come,” you whine. 

“No, you’re not. You just told me you’d be good. And good girls don’t come until they’re told.” She releases your hair and you suck in a breath. Tess’s presence is palpable, she seems to take up all the space and air in the apartment by just being here. “Do NOT come, that’s an order.”

Just as the last sentence leaves her mouth the door opens and the apartment gets smaller, like your whole existence is being put in a vacuum sealer. The deep chuckle that comes from whoever just entered makes your scalp prickle, but you keep your focus on Tess.

“What’re we doin’ here, Tess?” The voice is deep, with a slight southern accent highlighting an occasional word. It can only belong to one man, the only man allowed near Tess’s Treasures. Joel Miller. He’s feared and revered in the Boston QZ. Runs the drug trade that keeps both FEDRA and the seedy underbelly running. You’ve never seen him before, but you’ve heard stories.

“Recruits,” Tess says, walking over to Lydia, crouching in front of her. “This one is shy. The other one - well, I might need your help with her.”

Your clit feels like it’s zapped with electricity at her threatening promises and you moan loudly, pausing your fingers that have been plunging in and out of you as per Tess’s requests. “See,” she says flatly, hands massaging Lydia’s plush tanned thighs. 

You hear Joel’s heavy footsteps as he walks towards you, you can feel his heat and smell the tobacco coming off his skin. When he steps into your line of vision everything blurs. He’s beautiful and dangerous, but overall he’s the most incredible specimen you’ve ever seen. Your brain seems to go blank, like a hard reset, until all you see and smell and care about is Joel. You keep your eyes locked on his face, his brows crease, lips pressed tightly together. He plants his hands on his hips as his coffee and whiskey eyes slowly trail down your body. When he gets to your soaked and swollen pussy he licks his lips. “You gonna let her come?” He asks Tess but doesn’t take his eyes off you.

The fog clouding your brain clears and you glance towards Lydia and Tess. She has her legs spread and Tess is smiling encouragingly up at her, hand on top of hers, teaching her where to touch. 

“She can come when she’s earned it. Lydia’s earned it though. Haven’t you?” She nods at Lydia as she squirms in the wooden kitchen chair. “That’s it, show us.”

Lydia speeds the up and down motion of her hand sloppily, you can hear the wetness as her movements become more erratic. Joel’s eyes haven’t left you, still watching you fuck your fingers in and out of yourself, almost mesmerized by you. 

“Tess,” Lydia murmurs.

“Go ahead, baby. Come for me. Let me see that pretty little pussy twitch.” 

Lydia’s body starts to shake as she cries out, her hand slowing as she whines and moans, “Oh god. Oh god. Yesyesyes.”

You peel your eyes away from her and squeeze every muscle in your body as tightly as you can, holding on, not letting yourself come. Looking at Joel makes it nearly impossible not to tip over that very tantalizing edge, so you clamp your eyes shut. “Tess,” Joel says, his voice a baritone whisper. “You’re torturing this one, look at her.”

He’s right, she is torturing you; but, what Joel doesn’t know is that you love it. You love being denied just as much as you love being used. You love being pinned down or tied up. You love having your throat or pussy or ass fucked in any and all positions known to humankind. The world is a dark and horrible shit show, but sex? Ya, sex makes you feel alive. 

“Torturing her would be not letting her touch herself at all. She should be thanking me.” Tess turns her attention back to Lydia, helping her stand up and pulling her to the couch. “You did such a good job for me. You looked stunning as you fell apart.”

You open your eyes at the movement of them. They stop and stand facing each other in front of the couch as Tess removes her shirt, her breasts are small and perky with light pink nipples. Joel looks away from you, staring appreciatively at the woman he’s sworn to protect. She pops the button on her jeans. “Take them off her, Lydia. Tess shouldn’t have to work this hard,” Joel commands. 

You whimper at the timbre of Joel's voice when he’s giving instructions and his eyes whip back to you. “You like that, don’t you? Being told what to do.”

“Yes, oh god, please can I come Tess,” you cry, eyes still locked with Joels.

“Lydia is going to lick my pussy, Joel is going to move out of the way so I can see you, and when I say you can come I want you to be loud. I want to hear those slutty little moans. Got it?”

Joel doesn’t hesitate, stepping behind your chair. He must be leaning over you because you swear you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear. Tess sits on the couch and tugs at Lydia’s wrist gently, encouraging her to kneel in front of her. “Come on,” she whispers and then places her finger at the top of her pussy. “Just lick and kiss right here. You can do it.”

Lydia moves slowly, giving you a knowing glance over her shoulder as she gets into Tess’s desired position. You suddenly realize that she’s more clever than you initially thought. She’s not shy, she knows exactly what she’s doing. Tess likes to lead, so she acted like she needed the guidance. And now she’s come and you haven’t. Tess’s head falls back, jaw going slack as Lydia tastes her. 

“Does that turn you on?” Joel whispers, his warm breath hitting your neck. “Seeing Tess being eaten out. She deserves that every day, you know. She’s gonna take such good care of you, so you better care for her.”

“I will,” you mumble. “I’ll do whatever she needs. Whenever. Fuuuuck.”

“Look how wet you’re getting, I don’t think you can hold it for much longer.” He’s taunting you now. “Little thing loves to come, doesn’t she?”

“No, Tess gets to - oh god - she says when,” you’re squeezing as tight as you can, holding back the orgasm that’s right there, like a seesaw teetering, so close to tipping to the other side and slamming through you. 

Lydia slurps at Tess, you can hear her sucking at her clit as Tess moans and tangles her fingers into Lydia’s hair. “Yes, that’s it. Fuck, right there.”

You let out a breathy whine and Tess’s eyes come to you. “Ssshh, not yet. Oh shit, Lydia. So good.”

Joel laughs into your ear. “Just come, what’s the worst she’s going to do? Spank you? Let me fuck your throat? I bet you like being punished.”

You shake your head, trying to block out all the lewd mental images he’s creating. “No, Joel.” you huff, refocusing on holding it in, thinking of all the unsexy thoughts you can as you watch Tess, waiting for your time. 

Tess’s legs begin to shake, “get ready, baby. We are going to come together.” 

Your wrist begins to ache, it feels like you’ve been fucking yourself for hours. “I need to, please. You look so - “

She cuts you off, “Joel, take over for her. I’m gonna come.”

Joel practically leaps in front of you, grabbing your wrist and pulling your drenched fingers out while slipping his two thick fingers into your mouth. You bob up and down on his fingers still looking at Tess. Her eyes are glazed over, and a bead of sweat slides down the line of her toned stomach and lands in her belly button. 

“Now, Joel,” she whines and Joel wastes no time slamming his fingers inside of you. You cry out at the stretch, pleasure mixing with pain before he pumps his fingers forward. “Come right now,” Tess says. 

You look down at Joel, his thumb coming to caress your swollen bundle of nerves and you cry out, the room filled with your loud moans just like she wants. You hear both her and Joel encouraging you. Joel’s Texas twang washing over you,  “that’s it, fuckin clenchin. Fuck you’re so tight.”

Joel is relentless, curling and dragging his fingers in and out of you as you writhe in your chair. “Tess, oh god, yes.”

Joel's other hand slaps the inside of your thigh, “LOUDER!” he demands.

You squeal at the hot pain that splashes along your thigh, “hhnnngg, thank you. Fuck.” Your pleasurable moans turn into whines of pain as the overstimulation starts to seep in. You try to pull back and bring your knees together and Joel lets out a growl. He looks up at you dangerously and your stomach clenches. This is the wild, animalistic Joel Miller that everyone fears. 

You start to panic, he’s not stopping and you don’t know if you can take much more. You’re so wrapped in his onyx gaze and a mix of fear and arousal that you don’t notice Tess behind Joel until she speaks. Her voice is soft yet firm as she cards her fingers through his greying curls, “Joel, that’s enough.”

He blinks hard, seemingly coming out of some sort of trance, and then slips his fingers from you, strings of milky arousal coating his fingers. “Good boy,” she whispers. “Help her up, but you don’t get to touch either of them until I say so.”

He nods and then stands, helping you up. Lydia is lounging lazily on the couch, her face still glistening with Tess’s juices. Your knees shake underneath you and Joel wraps an arm around your waist. You’ve had plenty of orgasms in your life, but never one that deep and strong. Your pussy is aching and you just want to sleep.

Tess sits on the chair that Lydia was on and spreads her legs slightly. “Lydia,” she crooks her fingers at her, calling her over. “Turn around, pretty girl. Straddle my thigh.”

Lydia follows Tess’s instructions, that fake nervous pout of her lips on display for Joel. Clever, very clever, you think through heavy eyelids. 

“Joel, help her on the other thigh and bring that chair.” Joel guides and steadies you as you sit on Tess’s thigh, then places the extra chair in front of the three of you. “Use the chair for balance,” Tess instructs, her hand running up and down your spine gently. 

You both lean forward, your sweaty palms slipping slightly against the wooden chair. You both gasp quietly as your swollen clits press into her muscular thigh, as she caresses your backs and hips. Joel sits on the couch across from you, one arm draped across the back and his legs spread. He watches you intently, eyes blown out and curls sticking to his forehead. It’s not lost on you that he hasn’t focused much attention on the other girl. You look over at Lydia and she’s smiling flirtatiously at you. Your faces are just inches apart and she nudges at your nose with hers.

“Ladies,” Tess starts, “this is the part where you show Joel what you can do. He’s going to kill people for you, and when he does, you need to repay him.”

You graze your lips against Lydias, her skin tastes like peaches and Tess’s cunt. 

“Pretend my thigh is Joel's cock, show him how you’ll ride him.”

You flick your attention back to Joel, and his expression shifts from hard to a tortured need. You rake your eyes down his strong chest, still concealed by that fucking denim button up that you want to rip off with your teeth. He’s dangerous and could easily snap your neck with two fingers, but fuck, if that doesn’t make you want him more. Lydia presses her lips to your throat and you start to grind back and forth on Tess’s thigh. 

You continue to take in Joel’s body, stopping when you get to his lap. Your eyes widen at the distinct outline of his hard cock pressing behind the zipper of his jeans. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth as you lock eyes with him again. His coffee coloured irises are almost onyx as he shifts in his seat. He wants you - just as much as you want him, and you just hope that you can break him enough so Tess lets him have you. 

Tess’s strong hand travels up the smooth skin of your back, tangling her hands in the hair at the nape of your neck. “Tell Joel how good it feels, baby. Lydia, keep kissing her.”

Lydia’s lips suck at your skin. “Mmm, fuck Joel. Feels s’good. Wish it was your big cock filling me up, sliding in and out of my tight, wet pussy.” Tess tugs at your hair to open your neck more for Lydia and you yelp.

“Keep talking, baby girl,” Joel says, his hand moving to palm himself over his jeans. “Tell me what you want.”

You grind harder into Tess’s thigh, between the sting in your scalp from her hand, Lydia’s soft lips on your neck, and Joel’s intense stare, it almost becomes hard to breathe. Every bit of their attention is on you.

“I-I want you to, mmmm, to pin me down,” you take in a shaky breath, never taking your eyes off him. “To f-fuck me…from behind. Want you to f-fill, oh god, fill me.”

Joel pops the button of his jeans, reaching down his pants to grip himself through his tight grey boxers. You continue breathily, “Wanna feel you spank me. Slam inside of me. Dominate me.”

“Good girl,” Tess says, releasing her grip on your hair and pulling Lydia off your neck, before pressing in between your shoulder blades until you’re flush with her thigh. You crane your neck to keep your eyes on Joel, looking at him through the wooden slats of the back of the chair in front of you. “Your turn, Lydia. Tell Joel what you want.”

She clears her throat before beginning, “If he killed for me, I wouldn’t make him do any work. I’d lay him down, lick and kiss every inch of him before sliding him in my mouth. Taking him deep, cradling his balls with my hand. I’d swallow every drop.”

Joel lets out a noncommittal grunt, almost like a secret language between him and Tess. Joel leans forward and removes his denim button up and t-shirt in one swoop. His tanned and toned chest makes your mouth water. His chiselled pecs and soft belly have trimmed salt and pepper hair dusted across them, he toes off his shoes and then lifts his hip, sliding his jeans down his legs. His skin glistens with sweat and you want to lick it all off of him, drink up his salt and musk, his innate Joel-ness. 

“Come here, Joel.” She says. 

“Sit up,” she says softly to you. Joel stalks forward like he’s about to claim what’s his and your pussy clenches around nothing in hopes that it’s you.

“Ride my thighs, girls. Whoever cums first, Joel gets to fuck.” You spit into your hand and reach between your legs, gently spreading your lips and coating yourself in saliva.

A deep, “holy fuck” leaves Joel's lips at the sight of you. Yes, he definitely wants you just as much as you want him. You move your hands from the chair to Tess’s knee and grind your hips in small, slow circles. Your arms push your tits together for Joel. Beside you, Lydia stops moving. She sits as still as a statue, looking over her shoulder seductively at Tess. A loud slap fills the room, followed by a lust filled moan that you didn't think Lydia was capable of. 

“Tess,” she says, all airy and breathy. Her tone feels sweet on your skin. “I don’t like sleeping with men.” 

You keep grinding, your focus on Joel. He’s so close that you could reach out and grab one of his muscular forearms. You’re going to fuck him. You want to fuck him. Any way he wants. Any hole he wants. None of it matters, you just want to feel him, smell him, taste him. 

Tess lets out an impressed sigh. “You’re even more amazing than I thought, Lydia. Had me telling you how to lick a pussy, how to touch yourself. But you already know. Don’t you?” She slaps Lydia’s ass again and the loud noise even has you clenching. Fuck, you want Joel to spank you. Or Tess. Even Lydia at this point. 

It’s wrong. And taboo. But who can say what’s right or wrong in this new world anymore? 

“You are going to have to do things for Joel, little temptress. It’s part of the deal.” You see Tess’s hands come to Lydia’s hips, encouraging her to grind at the same pace you’ve set. “So ride me. Let me feel that slick little pussy, let me feel it quiver on my thigh.” 

Things are quiet for a moment, just the squelching sounds of both your cunts gliding along her smooth thigh. You lean into Lydia, desperate for more. More what, you aren’t sure. Just more.

She responds to your touch, her nose brushing your cheek before you turn into her and kiss her deeply. Slanting your head to taste her tongue against yours. She’s sweet, like strawberry jam. Lips so soft they almost don’t feel real. Her teeth clamp onto your bottom lip and you cry out. The perfect amount of pain to increase the pleasure between your legs. When she lets go you’re panting. 

“She’s close, Tess,” Joel murmurs like he knows your body so well, but he’s not wrong. He continues speaking casually to Tess as if you aren’t in the same room. “Do I really get to fuck her if she cums first?” 

You grind down harder, kissing Lydia again. You love them talking about you as if you aren’t here. Making the decisions for you. 

“As soon as she cums, you take her to the bed.” Tess’s strong hand lays a sharp slap on the meaty globe of your ass and you crumble. 

“YES!” You scream, convulsing as the pleasure courses through you. You look up at Joel through your lashes, jaw slack, voice weak and desperate. “Joel. Please. Please.” 

He drops his boxers and his thick cock spring free. Slapping against his belly. The tip is smooth and leaking, he’s bigger than you thought and somehow your throat dries out as your cheeks fill with saliva. As you come down from your second orgasm you realize that you can do this. You are going to do whatever Tess says and become one of her Treasures. 

“Think you can take him?” Tess hums as Lydia falls apart beside you, moaning sweetly. Tess adds, “Good girl, Lydia. So perfect when you cum.”  

You decide to take a page out of Lydia's book and act innocent. “N-no,” you stammer. “It’s…I don’t…it’s too big.” 

Joel snorts, “You’re not a very good liar my little slut.” 

Before you can respond he’s lifted you up and over his broad shoulder. His skin is warm against your belly. You giggle mischievously as his hands dig into the plush skin on the back of your thighs. He can so easily overpower you, so easily destroy you - mentally and physically. And you’d let him, and to make it worse, you’d thank him afterwards and probably ask him to do it again. 

He drops you on the bed. “Don’t move.” 

You nod and swallow the dry lump in your throat. You definitely want this, even if you shouldn’t. Even if that logical voice inside your head is screaming at you to put up the wall, block him out like you do with everyone else. But the infinitesimal hint of softness in his face that can only be seen by the two of you keeps you sucked in. He won’t hurt you, no. Something in his eyes gives him away, he wants to please you with those hands that have brought pain and torture to so many others. 

He walks back over to Tess and Lydia who are completely entranced with one another. Lydia is now sitting fully in Tess’s lap. Her back pressed to Tess’s front, both her legs draped over Tess’s as she pressed kisses along the tops of one of her shoulders and rubs her fingers gently from her pussy up to Lydia’s. Joel kneels in front of them, both of their legs spread, wet pussy’s glistening and on display for him. The sight of Joel Miller on his knees does something unexplainable to you. He’s so goddamn delicious. 

He looks over at you again, that softness still coaxing you deeper into his web, tangling around you, claiming you. His large hands cup Tess’s inner thighs and then he dives into both their pussy’s. Jealousy swirls in your stomach as he draws a sloppy wet line from Tess’s entrance to her clit, then up to Lydia in the same manner. 

“Oh, fuck Joel,” Tess cries as Lydia whimpers.

“Too much, baby?” he says gruffly to Lydia who nods before burying her face into the crook of Tess’s neck. “Little more, m’kay?”

He licks at them again, Tess’s moan ending as Lydia’s starts. Joel doesn’t stop. He uses long languid and lazy strokes of his tongue as he eats at both of them.

“J-Jo - fuuuck Joel!” Tess murmurs, her head falling back and mouth falling open in a silent scream. She wraps her arms tightly around Lydia as her legs start to tremble. Joel’s deltoids and biceps flex as he pushes to keep her thighs apart.

“Fuck, Tess.” Lydia purrs, “You look so goddamn hot when you cum. Suck on her clit, Joel. Make our girl squeal.” You can hear him slurp her swollen and twitching nub into his mouth. As it slips along his soft and puffy lips her pained sounding moans start to become mumbles of pleasure. Joel works her through her orgasm, not stopping until he knows she's good and sated.  

Lydia reaches back, twisting to kiss Tess deeply and then whispers into her lips. Whatever she says gets Joel's attention and he releases her clit with a pop before looking up at the two women. You haven’t moved from where Joel left you, as fun as being a brat is, he could probably dish out a punishment so intense that even you would break and use whatever safe word he gave you. Lydia whispers more, Joel smirks at whatever she’s saying and then the three of them all slowly turn to look over at you.

Fuck

Joel stands, his hands coming to the outsides of Tess’s knees and guiding her as she closes her legs, then he gives a hand to Lydia to help her stand before repeating the same with Tess. He stands tall and broad, completely naked and fully erect between these two powerhouse women, linking his fingers with Tess and smiling over at her. She gives him a little nod and your stomach flips as your pussy clenches.

This is it, you think.

“Little slut,” he says deeply, “‘M’gonna fuck you now, while they hold you down. Understood?”

You try to say yes, but just air seems to leave your lungs. Tess and Lydia climb along each side of you, hooking their arm under your leg and pulling back to open you for Joel. Your arms are trapped under their bodies as they lay beside you.  You’re pinned and exposed; fully at Joel, Tess and Lydia’s mercy. 

The bed dips as Joel settles between your thighs, his large body looms over you, resting himself on one forearm beside your head, his other hand wrapped around his cock, running it up and down your folds.

“So wet for me. So soft,” he presses the fat tip of his cock at your entrance and you gasp. “Shit! S’tight too, baby girl.”

Tess and Lydia nuzzle into you, lightly dragging their noses along your neck and jawline. “J-Joel, fuck me. Pleaseplease. Fuck me”

Joel presses his hips forwards, and the thick, smooth mushroom head of his cock pushes at your weeping cunt again. “Look at me, little slut,” he rasps. You don’t hesitate, look at him with big innocent eyes, biting your lower lip. He spits into his palm and then coats his throbbing dick with it, fisting himself up and down. He raises an eyebrow at you cockily, “Say it again.”

“Fuck me, fuck me, please!”

Without warning Joel slams into you, stretching you painfully and your body jolts. You try to slam your knees together but the naked women on each side of you keep you spread open widely for Joel. “Shit baby,” he says through gritted teeth as his body folds over yours, his hands caging all three of you in. Tess nips at your neck, while Lydia sucks at your earlobe after whispering, “Relax, little slut, we all got you.”

Your lungs slowly come back to you. You take a deep, full breath in, and it feels like you haven’t taken a proper breath since seeing Joel for the first time. As you exhale you’re completely surrounded by Joel Miller. His large body is all you can see and feel. Meanwhile, all you can taste and smell is his tobacco scent and the salt of the sweat that coats his tanned skin. You’re addicted, you want to be able to inject him right into your veins. Your pussy relaxes around him and the pain ebbs into pleasure, and you need more.

“More, please more,” you murmur into his neck.

“There she is,” Tess whispers in your ear and you whimper.

“Say it again,” Joel commands.

“Fuck me, Joel,” you cry. “Please, fuck me. Make me your little slut for real.”

Lydia giggles seductively in your ear, pulling you into her tighter.

“Open her all the way for me,” he says to the other two. “S’too tight for me.”

He sits himself up and your knees are pulled open and back. Joel keeps his eyes locked on yours as he tilts his chin a bit and splits on your already soaked pussy. His veiny hands come to the back of your thighs, squeezing and massaging at your sensitive skin.

“Think I should fuck her, Lydia?” He starts, and soon they’re talking about you again as if you aren’t even there, the slick walls of your cunt fluttering as they speak.

“She's been good, hasn’t she?” Lydia says in a syrupy aroused tone.

“No she hasn’t,” Tess says between kisses along your jawline. “She’s a thief. She’s a bad girl.”

Joel slaps the inside of one of your thighs, with just enough of a flick in his wrist that it immediately sends a zap of pleasure toward your clit. Lydia feels you relax more into her grips, “She likes it when you hit her, Joel”.

“Of course she does,” Tess moans. “She’s a little slut.” She hits the t at the end of the word hard and Joel slaps you again. Right in the same spot, precision that you’ve never known before from a man who kills without being seen. 

“Should feel how tight she is, maybe she had us fooled,” Joel says, eyes shifting between the two women, wholly avoiding your gaze. You’re so desperate for his attention, and the humiliation of him not returning it arouses you so much more than it should.

“What’d’ya mean, baby boy?” Tess asks, her warm breath hitting your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“Like a virgin, squeezin’ me like a vice.”

“She’s shakin,” Lydia adds. “Poor girl.”

“You two don’t stop kissing her while I do this,” they both nod and he flips his attention back to you. “I wanna hear you screamin’. Got it, little slut?”

You shudder under his intense stare. “Yes, yes, Joel. Please, just fuck me. Pleeease!”

He pulls halfway out and then slams back in, his heavy balls slap at your taint and asshole, your needy high pitched moans filling the room. Your whole body constricts around Joel and as it relaxes it feels like heaven. No one has made your body feel like this. “That feel good?” Joel says tauntingly, his hands gripping into the back of your thighs.

“Please - fuck, yes. More,” you mumble, almost incoherently. 

“Show our girl, Joel. Show her what he can have once she’s my Treasure.” Tess commands.

What’s that saying, ‘You say jump, I say how high’? Well, when Tess says jump, Joel is already mid jump, doing it exactly how Tess wants it. He’s already dragging his cock out slowly, all the way to the tip, before slamming fast and hard back into you.

“Harder,” Tess growls, biting your neck as Joel repeats the motion. Lydia squirms against you, her soft warm skin slipping along the thin sparkling layer of sweat that coats your body. “Look at her. Pliant, soft. Letting Joel do whatever he wants.”

“That’s cuz she’s a good girl,” Lydia moans, kissing the sensitive skin under your earlobe. 

Joel brings one of his hands to cup your chin, his thumb running around your bottom lip softly. “Gotta relax for me, little slut.”

You take a breath and as you exhale you can feel the grip your pussy has on his thick cock loosen. “That’s it. That’s my girl.”

“Good job, baby girl,” Tess whispers, kissing at your throat again. 

“Fuck her now, Joel.” Lydia says, “We got her.”

Joel sets a quick pace, slamming in and out of you. His name and a string of swears leaving your lips with every thrust, just the screams of your pleasure and the squelching of your pussy filling the room. Tess and Lydia whisper praises as Joel is possessed by your cunt. Pounding and pounding into you without pause. Over and over, he’s relentless. A man possessed. You can’t help but wonder if he’s like this with all other women or if this is just for you. His hand falls from your chin, landing beside Tess’s head on the mattress, the other still gripped to your thigh. His short nails dig into your skin, leaving you marked with signs of him. 

“That’s it,” Lydia hums. “Taking it like such a good girl.”

Tess’s teeth lightly scrape at your jawline. “Come on, baby. I wanna see you come again.”

“So fuckin’ pretty when you come,” Joel says each word at the end of his harsh thrusts. His voice is gravelly and deep. Seeping under your skin and into your DNA, the very fabric of your being. You belong to him, no questions asked.

“M-more. I - more - please.” You aren’t sure what you mean by more, but Joel seems to know your body better than you as he sits himself back up and brings his thumb to your clit, teasing it gently and you writhe under him. It’s almost too much but you need it, and even more, you need Joel not to stop.

He hammers into you again, slower this time, but still with an intense flick of his hips at the end. The leaking tip of his cock pressing against the perfect spongy part behind your clit.

“Can see you in her stomach, Cowboy.” Tess moans. Both the women feather long, lingering kisses along your neck. The juxtaposition of their soft actions and the bruising dance of Joel’s hip is just as confusing as it is arousing. 

“Rub her clit a little harder, Joel. I think she’s getting close.” You clench around him at Lydia’s words and cry out loudly. 

He swirls his thumb easily along your lubricated clit, the mixture of both of your arousals and his spit making it slippery. “Ohgod, hnnnnggg, J-Joel pleasepleaseplease.”

“Sssshhh, baby,” he soothes, pausing with his hips pushed flush to your ass. “Gotta relax, remember?”

You whimper in agreement, nodding your head as you try to slow your breathing and your heart rate. “There she goes,” Joel moans as your pussy walls flutter and then relax.

He starts to fuck you slowly, circling your swollen velvety nub with the rough pad of his thumb. His other hand leaves your thigh, massaging your breast, pinching at the nipple with his thumb and forefinger. “Fuck, you feel so good. So tight. Gonna fill you one day.”

“Today, please!” you protest through a salacious moan.

“Tell her,” he says to the women holding you in their arms, speeding up the circles of his thumb.

“Lydia,” Tess whispers, like it’s a secret just for the three of you, “Tell her your plan.”

You’re lost in a daze as Lydia says your name into your skin. When you don’t respond she nips gently at you and says, “Baby? You with me?”

“Y-yes. Fuuuuuuck,” you say wantonly.

“Joel is gonna make you cum, then pull out and cum all over our faces. After, we are going to lick it all off each other.” She says it with a hint of mischief and lust in her voice.

The three of them praise and encourage you as Joel keeps fucking you and rubbing your clit at the same time. You have no idea how long you’ve been in this apartment, how long you’ve been floating on a vibrating fluffy cloud of pleasure and craving. Whispers of “Good girl”, “so pretty”, and “fuck listen to how wet you are” travel through you.  

The electric currents of pleasure that sizzle along your skin all come to the base of your spine. Pressure building, so very close to exploding around all of you. “Come on, little slut. Let go for me.”

Lydia and Tess say ‘Come on’ and ‘relax into it’ at the same time.

“Shit, J-Joel,” you whimper. A tear runs down your cheek.

“I know, I’m here,” he says, voice slightly softer than earlier. “I know.”

The pressure becomes unbearable and then everything snaps. Your pussy flutters as the pleasure starts to consume every single inch of your being. Your vision blurs, every muscle going lax as you twitch unconsciously underneath him. 

“Good girl. Yes, that’s my good little slutty girl,” he growls. Your orgasm continues to tear through you, ripping you in half and you know when you come down only Joel will be able to stitch you back up again. 

Joel presses his large palm to your mound, and just as you feel yourself start to come down you’re on the precipice of another orgasm. “Got another one for me, baby?”

“Yesyesyes - yeeesss,” you’ve forgotten words, you’re just a bundle of pleasure. No muscles or bones or thoughts of your own. Just a pliant body, that’s fully under the control of Joel Miller. 

Your second orgasm hits you hard, tearing anything you had left in half. “She’s gonna squirt,” Joel mumbles.

“Just let it go,” Lydia whispers, suckling on your earlobe. 

You push into the feeling, letting it overtake you as liquid gushes from your cunt, coating Joel's pelvis and pooling on the bed below you. It splashes as Joel keeps up his pace. You scream out in pleasure. Lydia and Tess talking you through it quietly, “Good girl. Stay relaxed for me,” Tess says as Lydia adds, “Let it take you, we’re right here.”

The pleasure starts to ebb, it’s becoming too much as Tess whispers, “Breathe, baby girl. Just breathe.”

“Can’t, Tess.” you whimper, turning your face towards her. “Please,” you plead. If you learned anything from earlier, it’s that only Tess can make him stop. 

“Ok, baby, you’re ok,” she hums. She looks up at Joel above all of you and drops her voice, “That’s enough now, Joel.”

Joel pulls away from your clit and you sigh in relief, both his hands coming to your breasts, squeezing them roughly as his thrusts become sloppy. “Get ready,” he huffs through gritted teeth. Both Tess and Lydia scoot up so their faces are pressed against yours.

Joel slips out of you with a lewd pop and practically bends you in half to get over your faces. “Open your mouths and look at me,” he commands. The three of you obey, anything for the man who is going to kill for you or defend you to the very end if need be. 

His hand is tight around his cock, pumping himself quickly, the cords of muscle and veins along his forearm start to pop. His balls are full and heavy, tight against his body as he edges closer to his release. You stare at him, soaking in how wrecked he looks as he gets closer. His brows pinch together, onyx and whiskey flecked eyes looking only at you before his face goes lax and he lets out a deep, loud moan. Warm ropes of opaque white cum paint your faces.

As soon as he’s done he pulls away, Tess and Lydia letting go of your legs as the three of you kiss and lick at each other's sticky faces. Joel tastes better than you could have imagined, a heady mix of saltiness that leaves you insatiable for more.

Joel sits back on his heels watching the three of you slurp him up. He has a proud smirk on his face and when your eyes find his he winks at you before getting up and grabbing a towel off the top of the small dresser near the bed. Tess says something hushed to Lydia as you and Joel look at one another. Lydia pressed a kiss to your cheek before getting off the bed and following Tess into another room, the unmistakable sound of the shower alerting you to where they’ve gone.

Joel climbs beside you, looking down at you hesitantly. “You ok?” he whispers.

“Ya,” you sign sleepily. “I’m ok, Joel.”

He brings the towel to your thighs, soaking up your arousal. “I didn’t hurt ya?”

The towel ghosts along your swollen folds and you gasp, turning your head into Joel’s strong upper body. “I know, sorry.” He hisses, hating that he’s causing you discomfort. “But I gotta clean you up.”

He dabs gently with the soft towel causing an aftershock that shakes through your body and you feel yourself squirt again. Not nearly as much this time but a euphoric moan leaves your lips. Joel tucks the towel between your legs and guides your face up to meet his. His brown eyes burn themselves into your soul, “do you need more, baby? Just tell me.”

“It’s sensitive,” you whine.

He lifts an eyebrow slightly, “does it hurt?”

You stick your bottom lip out and nod sadly.

“Need me to kiss it?” he asks gently, his hooked nose rubbing against yours. 

You look at him hesitantly. Of course, you want Joel’s plush lips on your pussy, but a flap of a butterfly wing could probably cause you to implode at this point. 

“You can say another time,” he whispers, lips hovering over yours. He doesn’t know where this side of him has come from. Joel Miller is a simple man. Murder who Tess says, fuck any one of her Treasures that offer to get the adrenaline out afterwards, then leave them in their apartment pumped full of his cum. He usually can’t wait to rush back to his apartment to take a shower and shoot back a mix of whiskey and sleeping pills. But with you, he feels the need to care for you afterwards, and he has a strong feeling that you’re going to be a very large distraction in his life from now on. 

I’m fucked, he thinks to himself.

You lean forward to sponge your lips against his. He kisses you sweetly, pulling you in tighter as you hum contently into his lips.

“I don’t think I can tonight,” you say softly after breaking the kiss. 

“That’s ok, little slut.” He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so you’re resting on top of him. Legs straddling his hips and your head resting on his chest. You shiver against him, tucking your arms into your body. His hands scramble for the blanket, wrapping it around the two of you, kissing the top of your head. “Tomorrow, after Tess officially makes you her Treasure, that will be your gift from me.”

You nod into his chest, he smells like gunpowder, fresh sawdust and sweat as your eyelids become heavy and the world seems to slip away. You have trouble sleeping normally, I mean who wouldn’t in this fucked up new world you’re all in, but with Joel, it happens almost too easily. Sleep just takes you to a deep and uninterrupted place for who knows how long. But when you wake you’re in a large grey t-shirt in a small bedroom, not the same one you fell asleep in. You hear the peaceful and melodic breathing of someone beside you. You move slowly, peeling open your eyes to see Joel sleeping beside you. The moonlight dances softly along his face, grey hairs glinting in the light. He looks so peaceful, nothing like the man that was crazed by your pussy early. He’s still visibly dangerous, but fuck is he beautiful. 

I’m fucked, you think to yourself.

Tag list:

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@keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot

@lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog

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[blakeprentiss]

crash & burn

emily prentiss x surgical resident!fem!reader

what happens when your one night stand ends up on your operating table?

warnings: angst, surgery, blood, smut, mention of drugs/drug use, alcohol & drinking, mentions of (fake) major character death

a/n: repost from my previous blog about 3 years ago but also slightly edited. based off of my grey’s anatomy knowledge so there are definitely inaccuracies also one of my fav things I ever wrote

(gif is mine)

**

“incoming trauma! y/l/n, you’re on it with me,” your attending yelled. nodding at her as you made your way to the door, you grabbed a gown and threw it on. a rush of excitement coursed through you, with this being your first real trauma you were working. working the ER was always hit or miss, with everything that had swept through the emergency room doors during your previous rotations either ended up cleared from needing surgery or were “all hands on deck” situations, which usually ended up with every resident fighting for at least three surgeries. and you never seemed to be picked for one.

you had been itching to get into an OR for weeks, as being on the ICU rotation stopped that from happening. technically, you were doing simple procedures on patients when they needed to be done, but you weren’t able to actually operate. and that’s what you loved to do most.

silently wishing that this trauma would need surgery, you jogged out of the e.r. and met your attending at the ambulance bay. “what do we have?” you asked, watching as the paramedic opened the ambulance doors.

“agent emily prentiss, fbi, 40 years old; penetrating stab wound to the lower abdomen, weapon still lodged in place, already coded once in the ambulance,” the paramedic rattled off.

“is that a chair leg?” you asked, mouth open. something about this patient was off, you couldn’t figure it out.

“table leg, actually,” the paramedic said, shaking his head.

“that’s good, it’s the only thing keeping her alive right now,” the attending said, scanning the agent’s body. “what are her stats?”

you didn’t hear a word either of them said, eyes focused on the unconscious woman in front of you. she looked so familiar. and you also recognized her name. “emily,” you muttered, eyes widening when everything came back to you.

~

“can i buy you a drink?” a dark-haired woman asked, sitting down next to you with a smile. “sorry, i know that’s a bit forward,” she said softly. “i’m emily. and you’re absolutely gorgeous.”

“oh, thank you,” you blushed. “you’re pretty hot yourself. not to be too forward or anything,” you smirked. “i’m y/n.”

“it’s nice to meet you.”

her laugh was like a drug, you heard it once and were instantly drawn closer. if you weren’t careful, you’d get addicted. “thank you,” she beamed, brushing her hand over yours. “so, about that drink?”

“i’d love one,” you murmured. “thank you.” emily squeezed your hand, calling over the bartender and ordering two glasses of red wine. “how’d you know red was my favorite?” you asked curiously, taking a sip.

“lucky guess,” emily shrugged, changing the subject. “so, what do you do for work?”

“oh, i’m a surgical resident at the hospital downtown,” you smiled. “what about you?”

“i, uh, i work for the fbi,” she murmured, smiling sheepishly. “nothing too crazy, though.”

“that’s actually pretty cool,” you laughed. “what about the fbi brought you to boston?”

“i’m just here on business,” she spoke softly. “trying to find something for my team.”

“have you been here before?”

“once, a long time ago,” she sighed, looking down for barely a second. “but, that’s in the past. and i’m all about the present.”

you giggled, sipping your wine. the night carried on in a similar fashion, more and more drinks purchased as the conversation traveled. from favorite books to dream vacations to childhood fears, you two talked about nearly everything.

and as the night grew longer, emily ended up in your apartment. shirts ditched in the entryway, emily leaving sloppy kisses along your jawline as she carried you to the bedroom.

she placed you onto the bed, hands trailing down your sides. a soft moan escaped your lips, eliciting a laugh from hers. “you like that, don’t you?” she teased, hands moving up your thighs. one, two fingers inside of you, hitting that perfect spot with each thrust. her tongue swiping your entrance before her lips encased your clit, your vision nearly blacking out. pulling her hair, emily’s moans sent vibrations straight to your core and pleasure through your veins.

it wasn’t long before your hips bucked into her face, her tongue tasting every bit of you as you came.

and then you were on your knees for her, worshipping her body like it was the last time you would ever see it. which, it technically was. but that was the last thing on your mind as your tongue swiped her clit. she groaned softly, squeezing your breasts as if to tell you to keep going. and you did, until her cum was dripping down your face.

emily leaned down, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into her arms. “thank you for this,” she whispered, smiling softly. “i really needed it.”

“of course,” you murmured. “and you can stay the night, since it’s so late.”

“thank you,” she sighed, rolling over. “goodnight, y/n.”

“goodnight, emily.”

emily said she would stay. and not even an hour later, she was running out of your house like she had just seen a ghost. she had said something about a work emergency, then proceeded to give you a quick kiss as a thank you for the night.

and as your apartment door closed, you assumed that was it. it was a one night stand, you would never see her again. and you were fine with that.

~

“something wrong, y/l/n?”

“oh, no, everything’s fine,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“alright then, let’s get her to the OR.”

***

“on my count, we’re going to pull out the wood,” dr. canning said, looking at you. “ready?”

“ready,” you responded, leaning over and grabbing the top of the leg.

“one, two, three.”

you and canning pulled it out as quickly as you could, leading you to hand it to a scrub nurse. “bag this and get it to the police upstairs,” you ordered, shifting your attention to emily.

“scalpel,” canning spoke, taking the blade handed to her and extending the cut that the wood had previously made in order to get better access.

there was so much blood pooling in her abdomen, it honestly scared you a bit. not because the extent of her injuries were so severe - after all, you had seen much worse. it was because you knew the person on the operating table, and even if it had been just one night, you hadn’t stopped thinking about her all day. but, it’s not like you knew her, so it didn’t matter. right now, she was your patient. and as far as you were concerned, that’s all she would continue to be.

“where is all this blood coming from?” canning yelled angrily. it seemed that no matter how much suction there was, more blood would keep pouring out. “hang another unit, she’s losing blood too quickly!”

“wait, i think i found the source,” you muttered, lightly pressing a finger to her pancreas, eyes widening as the blood stopped momentarily. “there’s a small cut on her pancreas!” you yelled.

“nice catch, y/l/n,” canning said, handing you sutures. “go ahead and finish up.”

you gasped softly, slightly taken aback by the order. nevertheless, you smiled under your mask and took the sutures. delicately, you were able to carefully fix her remaining injuries.

together, you and canning worked to make sure there was nothing you two were missing. closing her up quickly and carefully, you both headed into the scrub room to clean up.

when canning asked you to go tell her team about the surgery, you agreed rather eagerly. there was no reason for you to do that, it shouldn’t even matter whether you met them or not - there was no way you’d ever see them again.

“we’re under strict rules not to let anyone see her except for agents hotchner and jareau,” your attending explained to you, scrubbing her hands under the water. “understand?”

“yes ma’am,” you replied. “what should i tell them?”

“ask for agent jareau, and tell her that agent prentiss is stable and ready for transport to bethesda when they’re ready.”

nodding quickly, you exited the operating room and made your way to the waiting area. upon arriving, you stood out of view for a moment, taking in the people in the room.

a brightly dressed woman - who’s outfit did not match the tone of the room - leaning against a taller man. a skinny guy sat next to another blonde woman, who looked too uncomfortable - even for a hospital. an older man sat away from everyone else, fiddling with a rosary and murmuring what could only be a prayer under his breath. and then there were two, one taller man and one shorter woman, whispering to each other in the corner of the room.

this was her team, her family.

it felt odd that you were about to tell them how you saved her life, despite them not even knowing you two had hooked up barely 24 hours ago.

“excuse me, i’m looking for agent jareau?” you asked shyly, stepping into the room.

the woman standing stepped away from her teaming, giving them all a small smile. “why don’t we speak in private?” agent jareau suggested, nodding when you agreed.

you both stepped into the hallway, away from her team’s prying eyes. “agent jareau-”

“is she alive?” she asked, her voice breaking slightly.

“yes,” you murmured, the blonde woman sighing with relief. “agent prentiss is stable for now, and she’s ready for transport when your team is.”

“thank you,” agent jareau whispered, tears in her eyes. “thank you for saving her.”

“it’s no problem,” you smiled, watching as the woman walked off.

making your way back to emily’s room, you passed the waiting room, expecting to see smiles and joyous remarks. instead, you found the team in tears. the strangest part was what agent jareau told them.

“she never made it off the table.”

those words followed you all the way back to emily’s room, your mind spinning with what that could mean. it’s not even like it was your business, you two slept together once and nobody even knew. it didn’t matter, so you pushed it to the back of your mind.

you didn’t dare stay in her room for longer than you had to. as soon as you finished checking emily’s post-op vitals and making sure everything was in order, you left, shutting the door behind you.

instead of walking away - like you knew you should - you just stood in front of her room. not watching her, but just staring.

“you know, that agent has quite an interesting life” canning said softly, coming up next to you. “agent hotchner had asked me how long until she was cleared to leave the country.”

“did he say why?” you asked, looking between canning and emily.

“something about a paid vacation, but i don’t believe him,” she laughed. “apparently they’re profilers, but i didn’t need to be trained in behavioral analysis to know he was lying.”

“agent jareau told her team that she died,” you said quietly, staring at emily’s unconscious figure.

“damn,” canning sighed, looking ahead as well. “well, i know i wouldn’t want to be caught up in all of the trauma that’s bound to leave. i feel bad for her.”

“yeah,” you sighed. “me too.”

phones beeping after a few minutes, you and canning looked down, frowning. “there’s another trauma, y/l/n,” she said, looking at you. “let’s go.”

sighing, you took one last look at emily. she was still as beautiful as that night in your apartment, maybe even more.

turning around a moment later, you followed after canning

maybe it was a good thing emily had fled in a hurry after all.

[celestialtarot11]

If you were a celeb, what would your vibe be? 💋🎬🌟 professions, careers etc 😍✨

Hi friends! Today we’ll be looking into something pretty fun! Your vibe as a celeb 💅🏻 enjoy and feel free to comment like and reblog 💗

Pile 1: Hi there pile 1’s! 🤗🌟 For pile 1 I am picking up you would be a singer or a musician of some kind. I’m seeing RGB lighting in a concert, slow dancing from you itself, holding the microphone and it’s a jazz kind of vibe. Slow and sensual, but enough to grip you because of the tantalizing way you sing 🤍 some of ya’ll may have beautiful voices! For some of ya’ll you have an indie vibe and keep it fun, lively, and sometimes sensual in the concerts 💅🏻 I also see you guys would have an awesome costume designer capturing a retro vintage style of dressing. Very dreamy colors, makeup, and visuals that is alluring. I feel you’d have such an alluring appearance and you’re private as well, you may not post personal information to the public but mostly share your band, music, and travels 🤗🤍 I absolutely adore this pile because this is my kind of music 😍 if ya’ll had a band already I’d book tickets! You’d travel to popular places like LA and the West Coast, NYC, Boston, I also heard Oregon…? That may resonate for a few of you 😂 But you love your fans and you’d have a close relationship with them, and i feel as a celeb your music is incredibly important. I feel like you’d make a lot of music based on romance & love and capturing how that feels. I feel like you’d be the celeb to bring back that teenager in us and thats why fans love you! 🤗💗 you cultivate a powerful community because you bring together nostalgic feelings & memories. I feel like people would definitely admire you a lot, and they’d love if you held Q&A sessions so they got to know your history with music, how you started, and how you met your band 👏 You’d have such a sex appeal too because you appear dreamy, comfortable, radiant and yet private 💋✨ some of yall may not be into music but modeling too, and you’d have a very dreamy appearance and unique look! Thank you my pile 1’s! Feel free to support by liking commenting and reblogging 🤍🌟

Pile 2: Hi there pile 2’s! We’ve got some influencers up in here in terms of health & wellness. Also fitness. I feel you guys would encourage your fans to eat healthier, and you’d do intensive research into healthier foods and holistic medicine 🌟💗 and as a result people really like you because you give them alternatives to medicine and popping pills 😂 also because I feel like you have a beautiful visual appearance. You appear put together, clean, professional and fun! You have a light hearted yet determined aura and people feel attracted to that 💅🏻✨ some of ya’ll might vlog & talk about your day, and people are invested in your workout routine, diet, and health! And also some of yall may have dogs so your fans would love them 🤗 I also feel like ya’ll would do wonderful creating your own wellness products and selling fitness related gear, people would love that! Especially those with disabilities that still want to work out. There’s something about you and how you create wellness products that are unique, they are designed for people that struggle or need help. I feel you hear your fans and you want to deliver results that are efficient and effective. I feel you’d work wonderfully with children too, and may pair up with organizations catered to the disabled and poverty. So people see you as incredibly humble, helpful, and supportive! You’re incredibly engaging with your fans & community and open to feedback! I feel like you’d be a great motivation speaker too, not because you’re aggressive but because you’re calm, efficient, and reliable in your tone. And you validate people’s experiences and feelings! People are drawn to your reassuring, gentle and determined personality 🤍🌟 you’d do great marketing fitness products too, or makeup products as well! If you’re into makeup you’d model and your fans love your reviews, they love how you do your makeup with precision and you’re unique with it too. You have innovative makeup ideas that people never thought of and it turns out beautiful 😍 I also feel you’d have something unique about your appearance and people cant forget it! It makes you stand out & beautiful 🤗💗 Overall you’d be open with your fans, inclusive, diverse and focus on educating them with health or tips for beauty 💗✨ so maybe you’re south asian and you want to make south asian makeup for those with olive undertones! That would be catering to a specific demographic! And people would greatly appreciate you because of how inclusive you are 🌟 thank you pile 2! Feel free to like comment and reblog for support 🤍

Pile 3: Hi there pile 3! So happy you’re here 🤍🤗 Lets get on with it shall we? Some of yall may have a welsh accent 😂 anyway! I feel like yall have great jokes and would be known for your comedy. Maybe you blow up as a meme at first and then you get into acting 💅🏻 and people are taken away by your skills and effort! You are effortlessly hilarious and yet intentional, and you’d be recognized for it. I feel you have a lot of charisma as a celeb too, because you’re natural at getting people to like you. You’re very good at conversation and with one conversation you’d have someone gripped. Especially an interviewer. I see a lot of people interviewing you & wanting to get to know you. Huge audience, and you love it all! Sometimes anxious, but eventually you and your PR form great bonds so they know when to pull you out 😂 but anyway, I feel like you’re a natural at understanding what to do, how to do it, and you’re overall amazing! You’d do wonderful in movies and tv shows! Some of ya’ll could also be a runway model, and behind the scenes your humor is what gets you noticed and you go on to have your own page, where you sell to your own fans any product 💗 and I feel like you’d keep a healthy distance with your fans! I also feel you’d have such a striking appearance especially your eyes, theres something very different and unique about the color or intensity. It leaves interviewers forgetting what they said 🤣 but they definitely are hooked! You have a lot of sex appeal and you may not realize it, but people do. People also create sexual fantasies of you in their mind & they daydream about you. You could take care of your body a lot and people admire that! Thank you pile 3 feel free to comment like or reblog! 💗🌟 thank yall so much!

Paid Readings 🤍✨

[aniesvision]

i love you too (bff! matt x f! reader)

warnings: reader in this one is bisexual!, suggestive, dry humping, make out, pet names (sweetheart, baby), oral (f! receiving), fingering, p in v, raw (don't do it), love confession!

a/n: hi!! this one's based on this request, i'm sorry it took me so long to post it but i hope you like it!! i decided to make it kinda fluff too, friendly reminder that english is not my first language, enjoy ✨

synopsis: You and Matt are best friends since middle school and both of you have feelings for each other without knowing, what happens when Matt comes back home to see you thinking of him?

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

It's not unusual for you to sleepover at the triplets house. You're all great friends since middle school and sometimes you travel all the way to Los Angeles just to see them and spend some time together. You're so close to them that you even know their parents, and you're also friends with Justin as well. When you're in Boston, you stick to Nate and some other mutual friends, it's funny how you share almost everything in your life with the triplets, even your friends.

You arrived in L.A a few days ago and according to your plans you're supposed to only go back to Boston next week. Between all three of them, you and Matt became the closest ones. You both have similar taste in almost everything, music, games, tv shows, girls... Yes, girls, he was the first one to know you also like girls, not just boys, and he was so supportive. He encouraged you to tell Nick and Chris too and they also supported you, which made you so glad to have them in your life.

Matt was just your best company to everything, every moment, your best friend. He's the first one you text when you're sad, the first one you call when you have good news. He was the first one to know when you finally kissed a girl, the first one to know you started dated someone new, the first one to know when you broke up, the first one to pop in your mind whenever you were touching yourself.

It took you years to realize that you didn't just like Matt as a friend. And when you did, it scared you so much that you forced yourself to get over it. You tried to go on dates, meet new people, but it was useless.

You'd talk to him everyday, always sharing the news, keeping him updated on whatever's going on with you. And he did the same thing, of course. Part of you knew you needed space if you wanted to truly get over him, but how could you ask for space to your best friend? How could you distance yourself from the best thing that's ever happened to you?

Matt called you two weeks ago to talk to you about all his plans, things he's been working on for so long and you were so proud of him, so proud of what he was achieving. He wanted to see you, and you couldn't say no, you immediately booked your trip to L.A.

And here you are. Matt picked you up at the airport, helped you unpack, asked you to stay in his room (you usually take turns between all three rooms, you don't mind sharing a bed with any of them), bought you your favorite chocolate and your favorite ice cream.

The last days were so great yet so confusing. It was the first time you were seeing Matt after realizing you like him, things were different and he also noticed that, but didn't push you into telling him what was wrong. You always tell him everything, he just waited patiently knowing you'd tell him eventually, whenever you were ready to talk.

Of course it wasn't on your plans to tell him you like him. You just made an extra effort to sound natural and act normally around him.

Matt, Nick and Chris needed to record a car video and you couldn't be more relieved that you were going to have some alone time. You needed to think, and to just simply be by yourself, you love all of them, but being around three guys all the time is exhausting, specially when your feelings are so messed up towards one of them.

You were lying down in Matt's bed, with a pillow in between your legs, mindlessly scrolling through social media.

It's funny to think you're so clueless about what's going on. It seems almost unfair how long Matt's been waiting for you to feel something back for him.

Matt never thought you'd see him as more than just your best friend. You guys know each other for so long and nothing's ever happened before so why would things magically change?

He tried to make you see him, truly see him, making an effort to treat you extra nicely, give you gifts, treat you the way you deserve. He's tried for the last two or three times you've flied to L.A, but it didn't seem to work, you'd still text him about all the people you'd go out with and none of them was him.

He was just about to give up and try to move on. The way you were acting different around him made him think if you were finally connecting the dots and pushing him away. He was wondering if you were mad at him, if you wanted to just ignore and pretend nothing was happening so you wouldn't hurt his feelings. He was wondering if you'd say no, if you'd reject him right away if he tried to make a move.

After recording the car video all he wanted to do was to see you and apologize. He didn't want things to change, he didn't want to lose you, if he couldn't have you as his girlfriend he wanted to at least have you as his best friend.

Nick and Chris walked back to their rooms and Matt waited a bit longer, scared to face you. He walked slowly and silently to his room, thinking about what to say.

You, in the meantime, eventually started to feel bored, since Matt was out with Nick and Chris to film. You searched for a movie and one of them got your attention. Whenever the three of them were out to film, they always took long to come back, so you and your frustrated mind decided on watching a movie with a good amount of sex scenes.

It wasn't your intention to do anything about it, just simply watch it, but you involuntarily grind on the pillow that was in between your legs, the friction making you huff silently. You had no control over your actions at the point and you bury your face onto the pillow to keep you silent. Unfortunately, that didn't just muffled your moans, but made you pass on the sounds of the door opening.

You hear someone clearing their throat and you immediately shut down the tv, looking breathlessly to the direction of the door just to be faced with Matt. You were breathing heavily, cheeks red, eyes widen in shock, hair messy and completely embarrassed.

-Were you just... –He starts to ask, but you interrupt him.

-No. –You quickly respond, making him tilt his hand in sarcasm, closing and locking the door behind him.

-So you weren't grinding on my pillow and I'm insane. –He mocks, with a teasing smirk on his lips. And god the smirk alone made you even wetter.

-I have no idea what you're talking about. –You whisper, watching as he gets closer to the bed.

-So you're definitely not wet, right? –Your eyes widen even more at his statement, but you're quick in denying it with a nod.

-Can I check? –He asks, throwing the pillow aside and hovering you, still with that stupid smirk on his lips.

You don't even know what to say, unsure if you're dreaming or if he was just making a sick joke out of your embarrassment. This kind of interaction never happened between you and Matt, and although your body was screaming to feel something –anything– from him, you were so confused.

His eyes were darker than normal, and although the smirk was still there, he looked serious. You furrow your eyebrows, confused, not wanting to make a wrong decision and ruin things. Seeing your hesitance, he slowly moves his hand to your thigh, caressing it lightly with his thumb.

-You're not gonna answer me? –He tilts his head, leaning closer and making you pull back until you were laying down on the bed again, with him on top of you.

His fingertips explore your skin, stopping by your hip and squeezing it. You bite your lips nervously, not making anything to stop him.

Matt's eyes drop to your lips, silently asking you permission to kiss you, and you knew right there that it was your chance, maybe your only one, so you take it. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and brushing your lips against his.

He moans softly against your lips, immediately deepening it and stabilizing his weight on his free forearm, placing it next to your head.

Neither of you could believe it was happening, and the way your lips moved so perfectly together only reassured both of you that there was no such thing as getting over the other, you were both so fucking needy, waiting for something like this to happen for so long.

Matt slides his hand that was on your hip under your shorts, his middle finger tracing a line against your clothed wetness.

-God, you're so fucking wet. –He groans, and all you could do was gasp.

He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth, the kiss becoming heated and making both of you wanting more.

You tangle your fingers in his hair as he moves his lips to your neck, his fingers rubbing your clit through your panties.

-Matt, please... –You plead under him, desperate to feel him, not even caring about how eager you looked.

-Patience, sweetheart.

His voice is hoarse and deeper than usual, sending shivers down your spine. Matt pulls away to take off his shirt, taking his hand off your shorts and lifting your t-shirt over your head as well.

He kisses you again, quickly directing his lips to your neck. Matt unclasps your bra in a heartbeat, not waisting any time to lick and nibble your nipples. You gasp at his actions, arching your back and pulling him closer to you by his hair.

He smiles against your nipples, looking up at you while he leaves red and purple marks all over the valley of your boobs. He keeps moving down, your breathing getting heavier each second.

Matt finally slips down your shorts and panties, discarding them on the floor, his face in between your legs as he admires the way you look.

-So beautiful. -He whispers, pressing sweet kisses on your inner thighs.

-Please... -You plead again, but this time he complies.

Matt eats you out slowly, savoring the taste of you. He's so absorbed by the moment, his tongue tasting the sweetest liquid of your wetness, he's absolutely loving to feel you, to have you like this, his only goal for the night is to make you feel the best. He wants to please you, to make you feel things you've never felt before, experience all the things he can provide you. He wants to eat you out not just to make you feel good, but to make you feel loved. He wants to show you through his actions how much he fucking loves you.

-Fuck, Matt. -You moan, just the sight of him driving you crazy.

He smiles, keeping up with his actions and teasing your entrance with his middle finger, pushing it in and thrusting fast and deep. Matt's fingers always caught your attention, and knowing that they could feel as good as they looked is such a precious information.

Matt tries his best to keep eye contact with you, but he was so focused that his eyes could barely stay open, he was pussy drunk already.

With the sensations of being touched by the one you've been craving for so long you reach your orgasm sooner than you wanted to. You cover your mouth when you hear yourself moaning loudly, releasing all over his face, his stupid little chuckle while he looked at you with his chin covered by your juices only served to make you wetter and needier.

Matt quickly discards his own clothes next to yours on the floor, your eyes widening with the sight of him fully naked. He didn't give you any chance to speak, kissing you eagerly and making you taste yourself.

You can feel him passing his tip between your folds, collecting the wetness and entering you without any warnings. You whine, feeling him stretching your walls.

-Fuck, baby, you're so tight. -Matt groans in your ear.

There was no way you'd last, you were sensitive already and he was so fucking hot, your feelings for him only increasing with this new connection, both of you knowing that things were definitely going to change between you two.

Your moans get louder with each thrust, his eyes giving you a warning look before he raised his hand to cover your mouth. You found it so hot that your eyes rolled back, your legs shaking uncontrollably against him. He moved his hips faster, nearing his own climax. Matt buries his face on your neck, bitting and kissing it to keep him quiet as he painted your walls white. He groans in your ear and you finally let yourself cum again.

Both of you stay silent, just catching your breaths without exchanging a word. He slides off of you slowly, throwing himself in the empty space on the bed and looking at you.

Matt was sweaty, his hair sticking on his forehead, cheeks pink and lips parted, just as you were. He couldn't help but admire you, even looking completely fucked up you still looked perfect in his eyes.

You had no idea what to say. The events replayed in your head and now you didn't have a clue on why it happened. Maybe you should clarify your feelings, it wasn't just a friendly fuck or random hook up to you, and you hoped it wasn't just that to him as well.

Matt clears his throat, getting your attention, and he places his hand on your cheek, cupping it gently.

-You good? Can we talk? -He asks softly, trying not to scared you away.

You only nod, incapable of saying anything, waiting for him to talk first.

Matt takes a deep breath before talking, deciding to be honest and just go for it.

-I love you. I'm so sorry for not telling you this before, but I didn't want to ruin things, I was so scared of losing you. I really, really like you, please tell me you feel the same.

You feel your heartbeats racing, it takes you a few seconds to understand that this is truly happening. Matt just confessed his feelings for you and he looked so adorable all shy and anxious like that, waiting for your response. You smile, leaning to kiss him delicately.

-I love you too. -You whisper, and he sighs in relief.

There's a moment of comfortable silence, both of you acknowledging the previous events, cuddling and enjoying each other's presence. There's no need to talk, no need to discuss anything, it was already settled, you love Matt and Matt loves you, and it's all okay.

tags 💕

@riowritesitall @sturniolosarethebest @hyacinthst @anabanana28 @flower-sturns @sturncakez @sssoniaswiftt @watercolorskyy @delooshunalhoe @sarosfilms @blahbel668 @sturniyolo69 @sturniolosl0t @sturnsxbitvh @nessii-sturniolo @colbsposts00 @fallingforfalll2 @stvrnmc @slxtformatt @lovingregulusblack @starnoirr @katie-tibo @mattsfavbigtitties @liviestuffx @user9298274001127482

[leaentries]

headcanons | john marino

SUMMARY: boyfriend!john

WARNINGS: not proofread

more boyfriend!player headcanons

✮. my fav nighttime boyfie! he just screams domestic nights on the couch. like you guys don’t really even have to be doing a whole lot, but doing it with him is a privilege. being able to cuddle and watch a movie or cook dinner together.

✮. loves giving you nicknames! whether they stem from something stupid you did or just because it reminds him of you. will range from the most random of things. from stuff like doll, honey, love, to weird ass names based off of things you like. (for example, if you love to read he might call you “bookie”)

✮. also loves when you give him nicknames. i’ve said this before and i will say it again, he melts anytime you call him johnny. he could be busy doing something and hear the “hey, johnny?” from your room and he’s bolting back there with big doe eyes ready to fall at your feet. gets mad whenever you call him john. and don’t even get me started on what he does when you call him marino. (spoiler: he pouts)

✮. park dates! especially during the fall. john has mentioned how his favorite season is the fall (big boston guy) so he love love loves to take fun walks with you through boston and the surrounding areas while the leaves are falling down around the both of you. bonus points if you “forget” your jacket and you have to wear his.

✮. he loves sweet treats. always bringing you something sweet every time he comes over. you guys have a specific bakery that you always go to, it’s to the point where the owners know you by name and order. but will always have that familiar paper bag in his hand whenever he’s knocking at your door.

✮. board game nights! will not hesitate to beat you in a game of chess. eventually he will let you win because he hates seeing you pouty. although, i feel like he sucks at any type of racing game lowkey. you normally end up having to let him win if you’re playing mario cart.

✮. wants you to teach him how to do your hair! john loves to watch you get ready in the mornings and how you fix your hair, so naturally he wants to know too! will most likely not be very good, but it’s the thought that counts!

✮. loves to find good books and read them with you. you guys are your own mini book club tbh. you decide on a book every month and read a chapter or two together everyday/night before bed. will read with you over the phone if he’s on a roadie.

✮. beach trips to the max during offseason. he’s mentioned that he loves the warm weather and tropical destinations, so you know he’s got his calendar BOOKED with fun tropical vacations for the two of you. always makes sure to bring an extra bag or two with stuff he knows you’re gonna end up forgetting in the rush to leave.

✮. lazy mornings with john > everything else. + if they are during the fore mentioned beach trips. the balcony doors are open, letting in the soft sea breeze while john is placing soft kisses along your body to wake you up. the sheets are all over the place due to the risqué activities you partook in the previous night. 

✮. begging for him endlessly

[kiarastromboli]

𝐁𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧:

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐱 𝐲/𝐧

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘: Masturbation, smoker!reader.

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Matt's life is going to be completely upheaved by an encounter he will have one day at work, leading him to discover a new feeling: obsession.

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: I'm glad to come back with this new series that I had in mind for a while. I hope you'll enjoy it. The first chapter is from Matt's point of view, but it's possible that in the days to come, the point of view will shift to that of the reader. Anyway, I'll inform you beforehand. Feel free to ask me in the comments if you want to be part of the taglist. Enjoy reading!

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐, 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐞 𝟑

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏:

My life has always been a damn bottomless pit without interest. I grew up in a normal family, in a normal town surrounded by normal people; there was nothing special about me.

I've always had this feeling of discomfort, like something was missing from my life.

In high school, I tried to fill that void with sports like any other teenager, but nothing worked.

I was fortunate to be a triplet, so I started life with people to love and who loved me in return.

Naturally, people think that having siblings erases the loneliness of life, but it's false. I had my brothers, but I still felt that emptiness and loneliness.

As I grew older, I realized that I would never fill this void, that I was destined to have an uninteresting life and become Mr. Average.

I moved to New York, where I found a job in a bookstore, which seemed more than logical given my passion for books.

I lived five minutes away from my brother Chris, and Nick, my other brother, continued his studies in Boston.

My weeks repeated and resembled each other.

I worked on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. On Wednesday, I spent the day with Chris; most of the time, we just went out to eat and stroll. As for Sunday, I dedicated it to my motorcycle rides and various hobbies.

By various hobbies, I mean fleeting activities that I forced myself to practice to keep me from losing my mind from living the same days on repeat.

But all of that was before her.

When I saw her for the first time, I felt like I was waking up after an endless sleep.

It was a Thursday evening, we were about to close, I just had to put away the last books we had received, and I could finally close the shop and go home.

That was until I heard the sound of the little bells at the entrance jingling as the door opened.

I sighed when I heard the door open, thinking, 'Another bookworm waiting until the last moment to come get their fill of books.'

I went back to the counter to wait for the person who was there to bring me their book so I could quickly scan it and finally go home.

I honestly expected a student with glasses or some nonsense like that, so I was surprised to see this brown-haired girl a few meters away from me, browsing the shelves to find what she wanted.

I'm not the type to linger on pretty girls, but she had something extra.

She was wearing this navy blue sweater three sizes too big for her, which forced her to roll up her sleeves, and you could see the collar of her white shirt peeking out underneath.

With that, she wore a small brown pleated skirt that matched the bow she had in her hair.

An outfit that said a lot and so little at the same time.

I'm the type to analyze people on a daily basis; it's my thing when you work in a bookstore like this one in New York, you get bored very quickly.

I had a little game with myself where I enjoyed deciphering the people who entered this shop, first by their way of dressing, then by their mannerisms, and finally, I drew a conclusion based on the book they bought.

However, I was stuck on her way of dressing; I couldn't really figure it out. Her outfit was simple and casual, sure, but there was this complexity with her accessories that made me wonder if she did it on purpose or if she just randomly picked out clothes.

I mean, who pairs such a large sweater with such a small skirt? Maybe it's her boyfriend's sweater?

When I thought that, I felt anger rising within me, but why? I don't even know her; what does it matter to me whether she has a boyfriend or not?

I shook my head to try to think of something else and continued to observe her.

She had been wandering around the store for five minutes, stopping at each aisle without ever grabbing a book. Does she even read, or did she just come here thinking she'd find a fun book to read for once?

Even her behavior was indecipherable; the more I looked at her, the more intrigued I became.

She finally stopped at the romance section, where she picked up a book before walking towards me with a big smile.

Strangely, I felt a certain stress when her eyes landed on me; I hadn't realized how harmonious her face was.

"Good evening," she said warmly, placing the book in front of me.

"Good evening," I replied nervously.

"I hope I'm not bothering you by coming at this hour. I'm new in town, and I thought you closed later," she said politely.

"No worries; I didn't have anything planned after anyway," I replied without looking at her; I was far too intimidated for that.

I scanned her book, and of course, that's when the cash register decided not to work properly, leaving us face to face in an awkward silence while I tried to open the register.

She seemed amused, judging by the little chuckle she let out, and when I looked up at her, she simply said, "Sorry," timidly, unable to suppress the little smile on her lips.

I finally managed to unlock the cash register, then gave her the change and reached for a small bag to put her purchase in.

That's when I saw the book she had chosen.

"Pride and Prejudice, good choice," I said without thinking too much.

"I know, I've read it already," she said, chuckling, and I looked up at her to watch her.

"It's a gift," she added.

"For your boyfriend?" I said again without thinking, and this time I quickly added, "Sorry, that was very intrusive of me."

She looked at me with a smile before saying, "For a friend, I don't have a boyfriend."

"Good to know," I replied, handing her the book.

She took the bag with her book inside and turned to start walking towards the exit, and I was dying to catch up with her to continue talking, but I stood there frozen like an idiot.

She walked through the door, and I sighed.

My heart started beating normally again, and I felt a sense of longing in her absence.

My life, which until now had been flat and uninteresting, was unknowingly taking a whole new turn.

I finished tidying up the bookstore, trying to distract myself, but she continued to haunt my thoughts.

I kept asking myself hundreds and thousands of questions.

Will I see her again? What did she think of me? What's her name? What does she do for a living?

Fuck, what had she done to me? I thought as I pushed the door of the store to leave and locked it behind me.

Unintentionally, the key to my apartment detached from the keychain around my waist, and I hadn't noticed until a familiar voice informed me.

"Hey, you dropped this!" the girl from the bookstore said, catching my attention and tapping my shoulder.

I turned around and felt my heart race again when I found myself face to face with her; if she keeps this up, she'll give me a heart attack.

"Thanks," I said, taking my keys from her hand.

Unintentionally, my eyes roamed over her body, analyzing her.

I noticed the butt of a cigarette she held in her other hand, probably the reason she was still around.

"No problem," she said, smiling.

"Can I ask your name, if it's not too forward?" I asked, curious.

"Y/n," she said, extending her hand after finishing her cigarette and tossing it to the ground to crush it with her foot.

"I'm—" I started to say before she cut me off.

"Matt, yeah, I know," she said quickly, and I looked at her confused.

She knows my name?

"Oh, um, it was on your apron earlier, I promise I'm not a weirdo," she said, chuckling, and I chuckled too.

She seems observant too, interesting.

"You don't really seem like a weirdo, if that reassures you," I said, smiling.

"And you don't seem like a guy who reads romance novels; I guess we can all be surprising, maybe you should watch out," she said, shrugging with a smirk.

"Pride and Prejudice is a classic; I work in a bookstore, I have to know my classics," I replied.

"Fair enough," she said, smiling.

A moment of silence ensued, leaving us there in the middle of the street, staring into each other's eyes.

"Are you just passing through here?" I asked, to break the unbearable silence.

"Hm?" she simply hummed, confused.

"You said you were new here earlier," I clarified.

"Oh, um, no, let's just say I'm in the process of settling in," she said, nodding.

"Great, I hope to see you around here then," I said, smiling.

"There's a chance that could happen; this bookstore seems nice, and who knows, maybe I'll need a friend who knows their stuff to advise me," she said, smiling back.

"You already consider me your friend? Wasn't it you who said I should watch out?" I teased her.

"Oh, because you thought I was talking about you? No way, I was talking about my friend who works at the same bookstore as you!" she said, trying to justify herself.

"Oh, really? I probably know that friend then," I said with a smirk.

"Okay, you got me; I'm a big liar," she said, raising her hands, and I laughed.

"I already suspected that," I said, chuckling.

We stayed silent once again, staring into each other's eyes before she spoke again.

"Well, I have to go if I want to have a chance to catch a taxi before it's too late," she said, playing with the ends of her hair.

"I can drop you off if you live nearby," I offered.

"Whether by car or taxi, the journey is still long in the streets of New York, and I don't want to bother you with an extra 20-minute ride," she said timidly.

"I guess it's a good thing I have a motorcycle then," I said, pointing to my bike parked a few steps away.

"I don't know... um," she said, shaking her head hesitantly.

"If you don't trust me and prefer to go by taxi, I totally understand, I won't hold it against you," I said reassuringly.

"You know what? Fuck this; a little danger never hurt anyone, and anyways, if you try to kidnap me, know that I did boxing in middle school, so I won't go down without a fight," she said, pointing her finger at me, and I laughed.

"Alright, Mike Tyson, let me just grab my spare helmet from the bookstore," I said, chuckling before doing just that.

When I returned, I handed her the helmet, which she put on.

She got on behind me after indicating where she lived, and we hit the road directly.

We weaved through traffic, and I could feel her little arms tighten around my waist with each acceleration.

I couldn't help but slightly harden beneath my jeans because of the proximity between us; I could feel her chest pressing against my back.

This girl had something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up when I looked at her.

She smelled like vanilla and cigarettes.

She was destabilizing, and I felt like I was losing my balance with every word she uttered.

Once we arrived at her destination, I stopped my motorcycle in front of her apartment complex.

It was large and luxurious.

I wondered if she was a daddy's girl to live here, or if she simply had a good job. In either case, this girl clearly wasn't short on money.

"Thanks for the ride," she said, smiling, after taking off her helmet to hand it back to me.

"It was my pleasure," I said, removing my helmet and staying on the bike while she got off.

"That was really nice; I'm glad I made a new friend," she said, quickly fixing her hair.

"So, we're friends?" I said, smiling.

"Of course," she replied, smiling back.

"Great," I said timidly, and a new silence fell.

"Um, I'm going to head in; it's getting late. Good night, Matt," she said this time in a much softer voice.

Why the sudden change in tone?

"Good night, Y/n," I replied, and she turned to walk towards her apartment complex.

I couldn't help but watch her as she went inside. I should have immediately started my bike and left, but I was stuck in place.

She paused in front of her stairs for a moment before suddenly turning around and running back towards me.

I watched her return, a little confused, and when she reached me, she simply said, "Hi."

"Hi," I replied, a bit confused but smiling.

"Is it weird if I suggest we see each other again? It's a friendly offer, of course; you just seem really interesting, and I felt silly leaving like that without suggesting we meet again," she said quickly, and I chuckled at her tone.

"Of course. I finish early on Saturdays; just drop by the bookstore, and we'll go for another motorcycle ride if you want," I said, smiling.

"Sounds great!" she exclaimed excitedly.

"Well, goodbye for real this time," she said, chuckling.

"Bye," I replied, watching her leave before putting my helmet back on and heading home on my motorcycle.

On the journey back, I had only one thing on my mind: her.

Arriving home, I was surprised to find that my erection hadn't subsided.

How could this girl make me so hard without even touching me?

I felt bad for getting hard like this over a girl who seemed as innocent as her. What was wrong with me that I'd do something like this?

I sighed and slumped onto my couch.

I took off my pants and slid my hand under my boxers to touch the bulge there.

I started to stroke myself, unable to stop myself from thinking about her at that moment.

Her sparkling eyes, her long brown hair, her full lips that I was dying to kiss...

Why was she affecting me like this?

Her curves vaguely hidden by her oversized sweater, her legs, and especially her thighs that looked nice and soft.

"Oh my god," I muttered in a low voice, speeding up my movements and throwing my head back.

Her laughter and her voice, yes, her soft and slightly husky voice, almost like she was sick.

I edged dangerously close to the edge, and that's when I remembered her change in tone when she said, "Um, I'm going to head in; it's getting late. Good night, Matt," almost as if she was inviting me to follow her home and do all the things I was dying to do to her.

Maybe she was just as eager as I was. For my hands on her body, my lips on hers, and my name coming out of her mouth.

I thought about what she would look like sitting on me without her clothes, screaming my name, and it pushed me over the edge.

"Y/n," I moaned before climaxing.

I can't deny it any longer, this girl is clearly becoming my obsession.

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

Taglist: @mayhem-72 @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07 @bernardenjoyer @whicked-hazlatwhore @nicksmainbitch

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Meatspace twiddling

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me next weekend (Mar 30/31) in ANAHEIM at WONDERCON, then in Boston with Randall "XKCD" Munroe (Apr 11), then Providence (Apr 12), and beyond!

"Enshittification" isn't just a way of describing the symptoms of platform decay: it's also a theory of the mechanism of decay – the means by which platforms get shittier and shittier until they are a giant pile of shit.

I call that mechanism "twiddling": this is the ability of digital services to alter their business-logic – the prices they charge, the payouts they offer, the particulars of the deal – from instant to instant, for each user, continuously:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/19/twiddler/

Contrary to Big Tech's own boasting about its operations, the tricks that tech firms play to siphon value away from business customers and end-users aren't very sophisticated. They're crude gimmicks, like offering a higher per-hour wage to Uber drivers whom the algorithm judges to be picky about which rides they'll clock in for, and then lowering the wage by small increments as a way of lulling the driver into gradually accepting a permanent lower rate:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

This is a simple trick. The difference is that tech platforms like Uber can play it over and over, and very quickly. There's plenty of wage-stealing scumbag bosses who'd have loved to have shaved pennies off their workers' paychecks, then added a few cents back in if a worker cried foul, then started shaving the pennies again. The thing that stopped those bosses was the bottleneck of payroll clerks, who couldn't make the changes fast enough.

Uber plays crude tricks – like claiming that a driver isn't an employee because the control is mediated through an app – and then piles more crude tricks on top – this algorithmic wage discrimination gambit.

Have you ever watched a shell-game performed very slowly?

https://www.masterclass.com/articles/how-to-do-penn-tellers-famous-cups-and-balls-trick-in-12-steps

It's a series of very simple gimmicks, performed very quickly and smoothly. Computers are very quick and very smooth. The quickness of the hand deceives the eye: do crude tricks with superhuman speed and they'll seem sophisticated.

The one bright spot in the Great Enshittening that we're living through is that many firms are not sufficiently digitized to to these crude tricks very quickly. Take grocery stores: they can get up to a lot of the same tricks as Amazon – for example, they can charge suppliers for placement on the most prominent, easiest-to-reach shelves, reorganizing your shopping based on which companies pay the biggest bribes, rather than offering the best products and prices.

But Amazon takes this to a whole different level – beyond simply organizing their product pages based on payola, they do this for search. You ask Amazon, "What's your cheapest batteries?" and it lies to you. If you click the first link in a search-results page, you'll pay 29% more than you would if you got the best product – a product that is, on average, 17 places down on the results page. Amazon makes $38b/year taking bribes to lie to you:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/06/attention-rents/#consumer-welfare-queens

Amazon can do more than that. Thanks to its digital nature, it can continuously reprice its offerings – indeed, it can simply make up each price displayed on every product at the instant you look at it – based on its surveillance data about you, estimating your willingness to pay. For sellers, Amazon can continuously re-weight the likelihood that a given product will be shown to a customer based on the seller's willingness to discount their products, even to the point where they go out of business:

https://www.businessinsider.com/sadistic-amazon-treated-book-sellers-the-way-a-cheetah-would-pursue-a-sickly-gazelle-2013-10

Twiddling, in other words, lets digital services honeycomb their servers with sneaky wormholes that let them siphon value away from one kind of platform user and give it to another (as when Apple silently began spying on Iphone owners to create profiles for advertisers), or to themselves.

But hard-goods businesses struggle to do this kind of twiddling. Not for lack of desire – but for lack of capacity. Jeff Bezos, owner of Amazon Fresh – an online grocery store – can change prices and layout millions of times per day, at effectively zero cost. Jeff Bezos, owner of Whole Foods – a brick-and-mortar grocer – needs a army of teenagers on rollerskates with pricing guns to achieve a fraction of this agility.

So hard-goods businesses are somewhat enshittification-resistant. It's not that their owners are more interested in the welfare of their customers, workers and suppliers – they merely lack the capacity to continuously rejigger the way their business runs.

Well, about that.

Grocers have been experimenting with "electronic shelf labels" in order to do "dynamic pricing" – that means that prices change quickly, in response to circumstances:

https://www.npr.org/2024/03/06/1197958433/dynamic-pricing-grocery-supermarkets

This doesn't have to be bad! As @planetmoney points out, it's a little weird that grocers don't discount milk whose sell-by date is drawing near. That milk is worth less to shoppers, because they have to use it more quickly lest it expire. Instead of marking down the price of perishable goods – day-old lettuce, yesterday's bread, etc – grocers put them on the shelves next to fresher, more valuable products, leading to billions of dollars' worth of food-waste and and unimaginable quantities of methane-producing, planet-cooking landfill.

In Norway, ESLs are pretty well established and – at least according to Planet Money's reporting – they are used exclusively to offer discounts in order to reduce waste. They make everyone better off.

But towards the end of the story, they note that Norway's grocery sector – which alters prices up to 2,000 times per day – has been accused of using ESLs to rig prices, hiking them and blaming them on pandemic supply-chain problems and loose monetary policy. Greedflation, in other words.

Greedflation is rampant in the grocery sector, all around the world. Remember when the price of eggs doubled and they blamed in on bird-flu, even as the CEO of the one company that owns every egg brand you've ever heard of boasted about how he could hike prices and suckers would just pay it?

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/23/cant-make-an-omelet/#keep-calm-and-crack-on

In Canada, grocers rigged the price of bread, the most Les-Mis-ass form of corporate crime you can imagine (do you want guillotines, Galen Weston? Because this is how you get guillotines):

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bread_price-fixing_in_Canada

EU grocers – another highly concentrated industry – also collude to rig prices:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/17/how-to-think-about-scraping/

Which is all to say that while these companies don't have to use the twiddling capabilities that come with ESLs to enshittify their stores, we'd be pretty fucking naive to assume that they won't.

And here's the bad news: US grocers like Whole Foods (owned by Amazon, the company that wrote the enshittification playbook) are already experimenting with ESLs. So is Alberstons/Safeway, the massive, inbred conglomerate that has already demonstrated its passion for using twiddling to fuck over their workers:

https://knock-la.com/vons-fires-delivery-drivers-prop-22-e899ee24ffd0/

Economists love "price discrimination" – where prices change based on circumstance, trying to match the perfect price with the perfect customer. On paper, that sounds plausible: if I need a quart of milk for a recipe I'm making tonight and I get a 50% discount on some about-to-expire 2%, then everyone's better off. I get a discount and the grocer gets some money for milk they'd have to throw away at the end of the day.

But these elegant, self-licking ice-cream cones only emerge if the corporation offering the deal is constrained. Perhaps they're constrained by competition – the fear that you'll go elsewhere. Or perhaps they're constrained by regulation – the fear that they'll be punished if they use twiddling-tech to cheat you.

The grocery sector, dominated by a cartel of massive companies that routinely collude to rip us off, is not constrained by competition. And for years, regulators let them get away with ripping us off (though finally that might be changing):

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/03/21/us/politics/grocery-prices-pandemic-ftc.html?unlocked_article_code=1.ek0.t2Pr.g4n2usbxEcoa

For neoclassical economists, the answer to all this is "caveat emptor" – let the buyer beware. If you want to make sure that ESLs are only used to offer you discounts and not to gouge prices, all you need to do is note the price of everything you buy, every time you buy it, and triple-check it every time you go back to the grocery store. Just be eternally vigilant!

Thing is, the one thing computers are much better at than humans is vigilance. With ESLs and other twiddling mechanisms, you're a fish on a hook, and the seller is tireless in giving you a little more slack, then a little less, until you finally drop your guard.

Economists desperately want these elegant models to work, but "efficient market hypothesis" is a brain-worm that always turns into apologetics for fraud. Dynamic markets sound like a good idea, but they are catnip for cheaters. "Just be eternally vigilant" is miserable advice, and no way to live your life:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

In his brilliant novel Spook Country, @GreatDismal describes augmented reality as "cyberspace everting" – that is, turning inside-out:

https://memex.craphound.com/2007/07/31/william-gibsons-spook-country/

The extrusion of twiddling technology from digital platforms into the physical world isn't cyberspace everting so much as it is cyberspace prolapsing.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/26/glitchbread/#electronic-shelf-tags

[listywrites]

I freaking love Ancient Egypt.

I think the animal-headed gods first drew me in as a kid, and then the whole mummy thing just, fascinated me! And the hieroglyphics are so beautiful. I am totally an armchair archeologist--I have watched so many documentaries and read so many books on the subject.

Many years ago, I went to visit a mummy at the Boston Museum of Art. The mummy was a priest in his life, and they had recreated his tomb around him. And it was not the Book of the Dead that graced the walls--it was the Amduat.

The Amduat tells the story of Ra's journey every night when he--as sun god--descends below the horizon. Each panel is an hour, three on each wall. He and his fellow gods journey down Nile of the underworld and then come to a desert, through which his attendants carry his barge.

And every night, in the Sixth Hour, Apophis comes.

He is the embodiment of death and destruction and evil and the end of everything, depicted usually as a terrible serpent. He rises up out of the sands of the desert and threatens to devour Ra and the entire world as well.

Every night, the gods do battle with this beast. Surprisingly, they are lead in many depictions by Set, himself a chaotic, dangerous god.

And every night they put down the beast, and Ra triumphs, and continues his journey to the East, where he rises once again to bring a new day to the people of the world.

But the outcome is never assured, you see. One night, he just might loose the battle, and be devoured, and the sun will never rise again.

This story captivated me. What sort of people would create such a narrative, one where every night could possibly be the world's last?

On the ride home I had a vision of mysterious figures running through an Ancient Egyptian city, and my own story was born. And I knew even before I knew the plot what the name of the story had to be: The Sixth Hour. The hour when everything hangs in the balance. The hour when failure is just not an option.

I wrote and re-wrote the story several times over the years. I realized that I could never research enough to make a perfectly accurate historical story, so I deliberately allowed myself to take some liberties, to free myself from the restraints of perfectionism. That's why I call this a fantasy adventure based on Ancient Egypt and the lands surrounding it, instead of a historical novel.

A friend enjoyed it so much she drew me some fanart, gave me permission to use it as a cover, and encouraged me to share my story with the world, and so I finally took a deep breath and made the plunge. Honestly, it's terrifying to put myself out there. It is not in my nature.

But I enjoyed writing this little story very much, and I would like to share it, in the hope that you will enjoy reading it, too.

Learn more about The Sixth Hour HERE.

Available through numerous ebook distributors. Thanks, Draft2Digital!

[tieronecrush]

hot & heavy

chapter three: show me how

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 8.3k (a long-y but a goody)

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced/virgin reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, alcohol use, pet name (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl), polite southern manners, feeling familial and self-pressure, masturbation (f & m), light voyeurism, THIGH RIDING, dirty talk, LATINO JOEL cause it's canon which means there's likely subpar spanish bye!!!

Joel is trying very hard to be a good neighbor.

He can be friendly enough when he needs to be, but he absolutely did not know the kind of place he was moving into. It’s like Pleasantville had a baby with The Truman Show. Everyone here is so nice.

Not that his previous neighborhood wasn’t filled with people who were nice, but everyone pretty much kept to their own business and gave a wave here and had a quick catch-up across the lawn there. Well, except for the Adlers.

And here, they also do neighborhood events.

Which is why he finds himself nursing a can of Budweiser that’s dripping cool condensation in the mid-afternoon Texas heat of late June, surrounded by husbands having conversations about the upcoming football season, the latest Astros game, and their wives. He can’t really add anything to the conversation because he hasn’t kept up on any sports news, was working during the last game, and he’s single.

So fucking single that he spends most nights fantasizing about you, his daughter’s nanny. Or just straight up watching you like some depraved, desperate man.

Which isn’t too far off base, cause it’s what he’s feeling right now as he steals glances of you laid out on a patio lounger next to the aquamarine, chlorinated water. You’re sitting in a white linen cover-up dress, but the thin crepe fabric leaves nothing to the imagination when it comes to your swimsuit underneath. It’s modest enough for a family affair, covering up everything appropriately but it still does something to see your skin exposed in the sunlight, a sheen of sweat coating your body.

He’s noticed some of the neighbors around your age checking you out, even some of the men older than him ogling at you. It was hypocritical to feel the burn of anger — he was eyeing you all the same but to him, it felt a little different. Like you were closer to his than anyone else’s. He saw you every day; knew little things about you like how you always twisted the ring on your right hand around with your thumb or how you always left one last sip or two in every drink you had, never fully finishing them before abandoning them on the counter or in the sink.

Knowing more about you, from tiny details to what you wanted to do with your life, made him feel like he was dipping his feet into the pool of temptation. Every bit he learned made him want more.

And every time he saw you through the window of your bedroom, he jumped in head first into that alluring pool. It felt so right, so justified in the moment to him, but as soon as the lights clicked off on your side and he looked down at his come coating his knuckles, shame slithered up his throat and coated his mouth with bitterness.

Yet, he couldn’t stop. And some nights, he swears to himself that he sees you looking, watching his actions. Like you know exactly what he’s doing and you let him. One time, mind hazed over with pleasure as he got himself off to the sight of you alone and half naked, he even convinced himself that maybe you wanted him to keep doing it.

Joel knew you were flirting at times, but at other times he couldn’t tell if there was any difference between your polite, sweet demeanor and a subtle hint that you found him attractive.

Even if you were into him, there’s no way he could do anything about it.

Joel’s pulled out of his thoughts when he feels a tug on the hem of his swim trunks. His eyes flit down to his daughter, standing next to him with a pout on her face.

“Daddy, can I please go swimming now?”

Joel smooths a hand through her hair, bending down to her level to look her in the eyes.

“Can you give me just a few more minutes, Bug? I gotta talk to Mr. Clark about a job he might need help with at his house. I promise we can go down to the pool right after that.”

Joel’s cool thumb from the beer can swipes across her cheek as Sarah huffs in frustration, crossing her arms over her chest and staying put as a sign of her reluctant agreement. He smiles softly at her, kissing her hairline as he stands again, turning to the neighbor near him to answer his questions about a potential job refurbishing his deck over the weekends.

Wrapped up in conversation, Joel doesn’t notice the tiny footsteps padding away slowly at first, speeding up down the stairs. He doesn’t notice until his hand reaches for her curls, the swoosh of air under his palm tearing his eyes away from Mr. Clark. Panic sets in immediately, Joel excusing himself quickly to go to the edge of the deck to search the large party for his seven-year-old. Flip flops slap loudly against the concrete, the familiar voluminous hair bouncing as she runs towards the open water without anyone there to catch her and no safety floats on her arms.

He deposits his beer on the railing, starting to rush down the stairs to try to catch her but is stopped as he watches what plays out below him.

You saw Sarah, without her dad following behind her, and knew something wasn’t right. Joel had told you that she was still in swimming lessons — Sarah loved the water but she’d only had a few lessons last summer so she wasn’t entirely ready to be able to jump in and swim completely without aid. That pings something off in your mind, instincts kicking in as you swing your legs over the side of the lounge chair and jump up immediately to chase after her. Your arms outstretched wrap around her tiny frame right before the edge of the pool, lifting her away from the water on the other side.

Sarah is in a fit of giggles, the idea of you snatching her a playful game in her childish mind. Relief washes over you and you go along with her giggles, spinning her around and bringing her back over to your chair.

“Gotcha, little miss! You’re eager to swim, huh?”

Sarah’s giggles die down while she’s still in your arms, and as you set her back down next to your seat, Joel jogs over from the stairs to the two of you.

“Mija, you can’t just run off like that. You scared me. And you know there’s no running around the pool, and no swimming without an adult. It’s not safe, is it?”

Joel’s squatting down to look his daughter in the eyes, seriousness evident in his tone but not to the point of anger. He’s calm and collected as he reprimands with reminders and honesty, his voice not ever nearing a louder volume than his normal cadence.

God, he’s such a good dad.

It’s so attractive.

Internally, your palm is hitting your forehead at the flutter of your ovaries. Externally, your eyes roll into the back of your head in a curse to your mind.

“You were taking so long, Daddy! I want to swim now.”

Sarah’s indignant, her actions were completely justified to herself when she didn’t know how it could have ended up.

“I’m sorry that it frustrates you to wait, but you can’t go running off. Next time, give me a reminder, Bug. Sometimes I don’t realize how long I’m taking, it’s a curse your dad has for lack of time management.”

You snort a laugh out, covering your mouth as the comment goes right over Sarah’s head. Joel’s eyes find yours, soft crinkles showing next to them as he grins at your laughter.

He sends Sarah over to her bag sitting a few chairs over to grab her floaties for him to put on, standing up and facing you. Hands slip into the pockets of his shorts, shoulders raising an inch.

“Thank you for grabbing her. I just, I dunno, I just panicked at the top of the stairs. Like seeing everything in slow motion and I was stuck there. But, uh, yeah, thank you for getting to her.”

Voice thick with ignominy, guilt sheening in his eyes as he looks at you with a vulnerability you’d yet to see from the daily interactions with Joel.

A crack formed in your heart at the thought that he was scared, that he feels like he failed in the moment for his feelings overwhelming him. Your head shakes side to side, your feet subconsciously step closer to him and your hand reaches out to sprawl across his bicep with a gentle, comforting squeeze.

“It’s alright, Joel. Nothing happened. Sarah’s totally fine, and still chomping at the bit to swim,” you console, a kind smile on your face, “Besides, I probably wouldn’t be a very good nanny if I didn’t do anything when I was way closer to her. You couldn’t have reached her in time, and I stepped in for you. You didn’t do anything wrong, Joel.”

His shoulders relax, hands slipping from his pockets as he nods.

“Thank you. For all of it.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“I know. But I want to.”

The words strike you in your chest, nothing profound said but the emphasis behind them warming you from the inside out like the Texas sun. You swallow, suddenly feeling parched from the heat and breaking the eye contact that Joel was holding with you to look down at Sarah as she approaches you again.

“Can you help put my floaties on?” She hands you the deflated safety devices with a toothy grin, the gap of lost tooth on the left side of her smile making you want to squeeze her from how adorable she looks.

“Course I can, girly,” you take the floats from her, finding the mouthpiece on one and looking back to Joel, continuing before you start to blow them up, “I can swim with Sarah, if you wanna keep chatting with Mr. Clark. I know he wanted to get your thoughts on his deck. You should go back and talk to him, could be an easy job with decent pay. He’s a generous guy. Go be social, charm the pants off of everyone.”

Joel nods and glances over his shoulder to the deck filled with neighbors. He turns toward you again, raising an eyebrow in question.

“You sure, sweetheart? You’re off the clock today, you should enjoy your free time.”

“Spending time with Sarah is fun. Wouldn’t want to spend my afternoon any other way. Plus, what else am I doing? Baking out in the sun like a lizard?”

Joel laughs, a genuine one that you’ve only heard a few times when a joke of yours really gets him, and he nods, bringing a hand up to gently pat your arm.

“Thanks, darlin’. I owe you one.”

The wink he sends you nearly has your knees failing you, a heat sent to your core at the subtle flirtation.

These charged moments between the two of you have been happening much more often, and with your new (almost) nightly routine waiting up for Joel in your bedroom, you’re waiting with bated breath for whatever is built between the two of you to snap and open the flood gates.

More and more, you’re imagining how it would feel to kiss him, how his hand would feel in yours, what he could take from you and what he could give you. There was so much you were admittedly naive about, but everything that you had once been intimated by seemed exciting when you thought of doing it all with Joel.

He’s kind, and respectful, and gentle. He cares. Even when he acts like a grump or teases you, you know there’s something there. There has to be, otherwise you’re going crazy for sure.

Pulling yourself away from your daydreams, you inflate the floaties for Sarah and help her get them on. You pull your cover up over your head, depositing it on the chair you were laid out on. Sarah’s small hand fits in yours, taking slow steps to allow her to keep up with you as you cross the concrete patio to the pool stairs.

The two of you climb down the stairs and into the water, Sarah shrieks and giggles from the chill surrounding her hitting Joel’s ears all the way up on the deck. He’s back with Mr. Clark, having finished hearing him out about what he wants done and offering his services, reaching an easy agreement with him about when he’ll come by to start and what Mr. Clark will pay him.

Joel wanders away from the group, grabbing another beer, this time a Miller Lite.

Not his favorite, but he’ll take what he can get to keep a small buzz around all these people. Nosy, overly polite, and fake people make him uneasy. He's virtually the opposite, and it occurs to him that you are, too.

Maybe that’s why he feels so drawn to you.

Well, that, and you’re one of the most beautiful people he’s ever seen.

Cracking open the can, he leans on the railing with his elbows supporting him and watches you with his daughter. He takes a long sip, combing his gaze over the top half of your torso that’s out of the water as you stand in the shallow end. The bikini top he’d gotten a peek of under your coverup is on full display now, the sweet lilac color with ditsy florals tight across your chest.

He’s seen more of your bare skin from his window, but the bikini top sends a heat to the back of his neck and behind his ears, imagining you over him on his lap and his hand slipped under the swimsuit.

Shaking his head to pull him away from the image, he takes a deep breath and a few gulps of his beer, taking one more look at the two of you splashing around in the water with some of the other neighborhood kids swimming circles around you. He holds back a smile as he listens to your laughter mixed with Sarah’s, chewing on the inside of his cheek before he returns to be social like you told him to.

Eventually, once they’re pruny and antsy again, Sarah and the other kids get out and towel off to play tag altogether in the grassy part of your backyard. You dry off and slip your coverup over your head again, the fabric clinging to you in places that weren’t fully dry. Bare feet pad against the wooden stairs as you climb them, taking a breath to brace yourself before returning into the mass of judgy neighbors.

The contents of the cooler have dwindled, so you opt for a Corona and pop the cap off, weaving in and out of the crowd to find a lime wedge. At the makeshift bar, you grab a slice and shove it down the bottleneck, taking a sip and turning towards a group of neighbors you actually like.

Walking up to the circle, you see your brother, Chris, a kid his age from down street, Ryan, and Joel standing opposite you. Everyone’s talking about setting up a bags tournament, and you volunteer to play as well. One of the young wives offers to pair everyone off into teams, and you get set up with Chris while Joel gets partnered with Ryan.

Everyone playing meanders down to the lawn where the handful of boards are set up for play, and the four of you end up versus each other. Chris and Ryan walk to the far side, leaving Joel and yourself at the opposite end to start the game.

He bends down to collect the beanbags, handing you the blue ones with a grin while he holds the red for himself.

“You ready to lose at cornhole, sweetheart?”

You scoff and roll your eyes.

“No, cause I’m ready to win at bags.”

Joel scoffs this time, letting out a short laugh and giving you a look of disbelief.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those people, darlin’. It’s called cornhole. Why do you even call it bags? You’re from Austin. We say cornhole.”

“Um, I am ‘one of those people’ cause ‘those people’ are the correct ones. And there are plenty of people living in Austin that call it bags. For example, my dad who taught me the game.”

You turn away from Joel and lob one of your bags onto the board, watching as it skids across the surface and sinks into the hole.

“Your dad is from the Midwest. Doesn’t count, sweetheart.”

Joel tosses his first one, the red bag smacking against the surface and sticking to its place. You look at him with a satisfied, smug smirk.

“It does count. And even more so, everyone in Fort Worth at school calls it bags. People from Texas.”

Your next shot only lands on the board, an annoyed sigh falling from your lips.

“That’s Fort Worth. I’m talking about Austin. Your hometown. You can’t betray us by calling it bags, darlin’. You’re breaking my heart hearing that.”

“Well, then I guess I’ll always be a heartbreaker to you. Cause if I ever call this game cornhole, it’ll be the death of me.”

Joel sinks his next shot, giving you the same pompous look you’d given him.

“Now I can’t be losing you so soon, so we can agree to disagree. But I’m right.”

“Oh my god, no! I am right. And I will be teaching Sarah the correct name for the game.”

The blue bag in your hand lands on the edge of the hole, taking a second to let gravity pull it in. You cheer to yourself and hear Joel’s laugh next to you, your smile softening.

“Now that’s just too far, sweetheart. I draw the line at influencing the youth. My youth, especially.”

Your laugh pulls a smile from Joel, the shot leaving his hand to land right in the hole of the board. He looks back to you, eyes glistening with a tinge of admiration and teasing all in one.

“Fine. I will allow you to parent as you see fit, even if it’s wrong on all moral levels.”

“I can see who’s influencing her heightened dramatics lately.”

You pause, a beat of silence as you try to find a defense for yourself but coming up short. The last beanbag in your possession sails through the air, missing the board completely. A pout tugs your bottom lip out, huffing a sigh out of your nostrils and crossing your arms to watch Joel take his last turn for the round.

His hand twitches at the last second, changing the trajectory of his throw and sending the bag off to the side into the grass.

“I’ll admit, I do come up with…climactic story lines for her Barbies. But it’s to encourage her imagination!”

“I’m just teasin’ you, darlin’. You’re great with Sarah, and we both love having you around this summer. Don’t need to change a thing about you.”

He must mean the words in a friendly manner, but your heart can help but flutter at the thought of Joel enjoying you being around him often.

The game goes for a few more rounds, Joel and you keeping up with each other and tying at the end of each of your turns.

“Guess we’re a pretty good match.” You smile sweetly at him as you reach out your hand as a gesture of good sportsmanship when you and Chris take the win. Joel’s hand envelopes yours, shaking it firmly as a grin tugs one side of his mouth up.

“I think you’re right about that, sweetheart.”

“We’re quitting, this is boring! Sorry, sis! Sorry, Joel!” your brother shouts at you both, sauntering off with his buddy Ryan. Joel looks back at you, shrugging with his hands in his pockets.

“Think we’d be good partners? We could keep up the tournament together.”

A wide smile crosses your face as you nod in agreement.

“Let’s kick everyone’s asses. At bags.” You wink before walking ahead of him back to the group, getting assigned your new opponents.

You spend the next few games across from Joel, sharing knowing glances and grins, communicating with only a look for the rest of your games. You easily climb through the small, single elimination tourney and get to the winner’s game. The pressure, or as much pressure as a friendly, neighborhood game could be when you’re a competitive person, is on with the eyes of everyone eliminated on you. After a tension filled game, both in scoring, and the look in Joel’s eyes that’s sending a tingle throughout your thighs and between your legs, the two of you earn the victory 21-19.

You both cheer goofily, overly celebratory for the simple sport as you rush to the center of the pitch. Joel meets you halfway, laughing as you raise your hand for a high five. He complies, grabbing your hand when it meets his in the air, squeezing it as he drops them together between your bodies. His eyes are darker, filled with a glint of something that intensifies the feeling at your core.

At a barely audible level, his drawl curls around his words as he tells you, “Good job, sweetheart,” with a wink and a sideways smirk.

Your long dried bikini bottoms are soaked at this point, a chill tickling its way down your spine. His hand pulls away from yours, moving to your waist to guide you to the stairs. He follows you up to the deck, and you can feel the burn of his eyes on your eyes through the layers of thin fabric, imagining the subtle jerks of his arm and shoulder that you catch glimpses of from across the lawn on those late nights you unknowingly share with him. Before you can start a conversation to stay near him, or even suss out the electric chemistry that’s reaching towards a peak between you two, you both get pulled away from each other. For the rest of the night, you can’t ever seem to catch up with him, and you resign wistfully to being stuck in a boring conversation with your mom’s friends while your thoughts circulate around Joel.

The sun set an hour ago, the temperature dropping only a few degrees with the night fall. Most of the neighborhood is still mingling around your family’s backyard, those with younger kids all making their way home.

Sarah’s head rests against Joel’s shoulder as he holds her at his hip, adjusting her to hold her higher as he chats with your dad and brother about his last season on LSU’s baseball team. He feels Sarah rub her face against his shirt and glances at her, checking the time on his watch. It’s about half an hour past Sarah’s usual bedtime, and if he doesn’t get her back home, she’s going to be as grumpy as he is without a full eight hours.

Wishing your dad and brother goodnight and thanking them for hosting, he turns to make his way across the deck and glances around in an attempt to find you to say goodnight. It’s Saturday, which means he won’t see you tomorrow, and the thought of that contracts his chest. He can’t think of an excuse to go on a search to seek you out, and without a reason, he meanders back over to his house.

Joel gets Sarah into her pajamas and lays her down for the night, kissing her forehead and smoothing her hair back. He smiles to himself at the peaceful look on her face, rubbing her back gently before shutting off her bedside lamp and closing the door behind him.

Retiring on the sofa, he turns on some reruns of the latest cable show, zoning out on the screen as his thoughts drift to you.

The smell of chlorine on your hair starts to give you a headache, so you make your way inside and up to your room to shower off. Changing into your oversized sleep shirt and shorts, you fall back into bed and grab your book from the nightstand to read some pages to distract your brain before going to sleep.

You glance out your window to see if Joel’s come up to his room, like that first night you had waited for him and every time since then. When you can’t see his silhouette or any lights on in his window, you take a guess that he must be parked in front of the TV since he brought Sarah home.

After a chapter or two of your book, a vibration muffles against your comforter. The book gets discarded, probably losing your page while your hands scramble to find your device before the ringing stops. Right before it rings through, you grab the small phone and hit accept without a chance to check the contact.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart.”

The raspy drawl crackling through the line raises your heart rate, your eyes glancing to your alarm clock to see the time - 11:48 pm.

Why was Joel calling this late?

“Joel? What’s up? Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. Well, nothing serious. I, uh, just got a call from Tommy and he’s way too drunk at some bar downtown to drive home. I gotta go get him, but I don’t wanna wake Sarah to put her in the car or leave her by herself here obviously. So I was wondering if you’d—”

“I’ll be right over.”

Joel sighs, full of relief and breathes out his next words filled with gratefulness.

“Thank you so much, darlin’.”

You make a quick goodbye, gathering your phone and slipping out of your bedroom. Downstairs near the door to your garage, you slip on your flip flops and head over across your front yard and Joel’s. The humidity in the air has lessened, but your damp hair still sticks to the back of your neck. Your nails scrape up the hair and hold it off your neck, legs carrying you up the short set of stairs and up to the Miller front door. Your right hand knuckles tap quietly against the painted wood, letting your hair down and rubbing your sweaty palms on your t-shirt.

The door swings open with Joel on the other side, a sleepy grin on his face as he waves you in. He looks soft in his washed out Cypress Hill t-shirt and gym shorts, the vision of him in his version of PJs tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Thank you again for coming over here, darlin’. Sarah’s sleeping, should stay asleep while I’m gone. She was exhausted after tonight.”

Following Joel into the living room, he gestures to the couch and the TV that is still turned on to whatever he was watching before.

“Should be back soon, feel free to hang out here. Help yourself to anything to drink or if you want a snack, you know where everything is.” He smiles at the mention of you knowing your way around, grabbing the keys to his truck and slipping on some sneakers as you plop down onto the couch.

“Sounds good, I’ve got my cell so if you need any more help, text or call. But I’ll be camped out here until you get back.”

“Hopefully won’t need anything else, been dealing with Tommy my whole life. Always gonna be the annoying little brother,” he chuckles softly and lingers near the door, glancing around before his eyes find you again, “Guess I should head out, I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

“Drive safe! And tell Tommy I say hi,” you add with a quiet giggle, watching as Joel shakes his head and laughs to himself, heading out the front door. The truck rumbles to life in the driveway, and you watch from the window as he heads down your street and towards the city.

The engine shuts off in the driveway, and Joel can still hear some echoes of the party carrying on from another neighbor's backyard. Getting Tommy from the bar took way longer than he thought it would, and it’s now 1:26am. Traffic was horrible attempting to cross the city ‘cause of some country show getting out right as he hit downtown, and Tommy wouldn’t answer his damn phone when Joel did get there. He sped back to Tommy’s and basically made him roll out of the car, idling to make sure his brother got inside alright. He was insufferable with his drunk babbling, and now by the time Joel finally got home, he felt a swirl of guilt in his stomach for making you come over. He thought it would be quick, and now he’s slinking inside to apologize profusely for taking an hour and a half.

The front door squeaks on its hinges, the hollow sound of the TV cracking through its speakers at a low volume. You don’t greet him as he slowly clicks the door back in place, locking the deadbolt and kicking off his sneakers into the pile of shoes in the entryway.

Sock covered feet echo muffled thuds across the wood floors of his living room, a grin tugging on his lips when you finally come into view.

Fast asleep, you're laid out on the leather couch with your legs curled into your stomach. One arm’s under the throw pillow your head rests on and the other is bent limply in front of you, fingers wrapped into a loose fist. The movement of your chest is languid and deep with your breaths, lips parted in relaxation and eyelashes resting against your skin.

Painfully angelic.

He’s frozen for a moment across the room, watching you sleep until the time reaches past 1:30am and he knows that he needs to wake you to get you back home and into your own bed. He selfishly wants to let you sleep there, doesn’t want to interrupt any sweet dreams you might be having or the rest you need after taking care of his daughter all week, after helping him too.

Sighing faintly to himself, he moves towards the couch and bends down to gently rub your shoulder to wake you.

“I’m back, sweetheart, you can head home.”

You gasp from the shock of being woken from a deep sleep, scrambling to sit up in a panic with heavy lidded eyes. Your soft touch presses warmly against his thigh through the fabric of his gym shorts, and he looks down at you as you start to fully wake.

“Joel? Oh god, I’m so sorry I fell asleep, I shouldn’t have—”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, sweetheart. I took a lot longer than I thought I would,” the cozy look in your eyes plucks at his heart strings, and the touch lingering on his leg turns into an electric burn, “‘M sorry you had to sleep on the couch for a bit.”

Your head shakes with a dopey grin, fingers brushing his skin as it slips back towards your lap. The spot once covered with your touch sends a chill throughout his body. His eyes track your motion and his own hand reaches out for you. Large fingers slip between yours, Joel’s gaze returns up from your locked hands. Before you can say anything to him, and before he can overthink, he leans in and catches your lips in a fragile kiss.

Everything stops around him in the moment. The TV is muted in his ears, the chill of the AC isn’t felt with the fire alighting in his gut, his eyes close and bring him into an abyss where all he can feel is the plush of your lips against his and all he can smell is the candied scent of your green apple and lime body wash mixing in his nose with the bluebell and jasmine notes of your shampoo. It’s overwhelming, the way you have completely surrounded him with one kiss.

Your mouth is still against his for a few more beats, Joel imagining the shock you must be in and he immediately feels his stomach drop in a rush.

Fucking idiot. Why would you think it would be okay to kiss her? She’s obviously uncomfortable and now you are going to have to grovel out an apology for being creepy and completely unprofessional.

Joel’s head moves back to break the kiss, his eyes opening with dread flooding them. Scanning your own expression, he can’t quite read you.

“Darlin’, I’m so sor—”

“Do it again.”

Now Joel is still with shock, confusion contorting his face as his head tilts minutely.

“What d’you mean, sweetheart?”

“Do it again,” the smooth skin of your hand trails up his arm, across his shoulder, and wraps around the side of his neck, “Kiss me.”

His brain takes a few seconds to process your words and fire actions to his nerves and muscles, but when everything finally connects in him, he’s leaning in and molding his mouth to yours in a deeper exchange.

With hands intertwined, he reaches his other up to caress your cheek. His fingers splayed across your face, grazing the line of your jaw as you sigh into his mouth. The slight part of your lips with the exhale gives him a chance to lick into your mouth, his tongue tasting yours. Your hand on his neck tugs to pull him over you further, his back aching at the angle.

He pulls apart from you, breaths shallow as his eyes search yours for any signs of wanting to stop. When he can’t find any, he moves to sit on the couch, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you to straddle his lap.

Joel chases your honey kisses, taking peck after peck as his hands run over your back. He feels your hands scratch into his five o’clock shadow, groaning against your lips when you sit back on his thigh and the front of your shorts brushes against his semi-hard cock in his pants.

Kisses intensify, heating up again. Joel’s hands skim down your back and each grab a handful of your ass, coaxing a small whimper from your lips. The sweet sound flips another switch in Joel, his hips canting up against you as he feels himself swell more in his pants.

Against your lips, he rasps out, “Y’have no idea how much I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you, darlin’.”

“You could’ve. I’ve wanted it just as much…” you breathe out, a soft whine slipping after, “Don’t know how you didn’t—didn’t notice how much I wanted you.”

Joel’s mouth presses kisses at the corner of your mouth, along your jaw, and down your neck. He nips at your lush skin, moaning quietly and fanning out humid air at your collar. His hips grind up against you again, your inhale catching in your throat in a gasp.

“I noticed, sweetheart. Trust me, I noticed. Just couldn’t bring myself to touch you. Didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable,” his words tumble out in a lustful haze, the taste of you and the feeling of you lowering his inhibitions, “But I wanted you so bad. Ached for you, darlin’, and when I saw you in your window from my bedroom one night, dressed in nothing but those sweet little white lace panties you got, I watched you putting lotion on and fucked my hand. Felt so good watching your hands all over yourself, wanted ‘em to be mine.”

He moves one of his hands from your ass, slipping it between your bodies and groping one of your breasts through the thin material of your sleep shirt. You moan his name louder than before, your smaller hand gripping right onto his shoulder. He catches your lips in a kiss again to stifle your noises to be sure you two wouldn’t wake Sarah.

Your lips detach from his with a smacking sound, eyes looking into his blown wide with wonder.

“I knew you were there. I did it for you.”

Joel stares at you in disbelief, lips parted as he waits for you to continue.

“I wanted you so badly, that I thought—I thought if you saw me, it would maybe make you see me. Think I’m pretty or something. So I waited for you that first time, glancing over until I finally saw you in the window. And when I noticed you staring, I started to change my clothes but that wasn’t going to be enough cause it would be over so soon. So I put on my lotion. I could see you sitting there when I looked out my window, and I just—I guessed what you were doing cause I saw your arm moving and your head tilted back a lot. And it seemed like you liked it, so I kept doing it for you, and waiting for something to finally happen.”

His cock is rock hard and throbbing for some kind of attention. He can feel a wet spot forming on the fabric of his boxers from his pre-cum leaking out of him.

You knew. You saw him getting off to watching you parade around your room mostly naked. You liked it, and you kept doing it for him.

It’s the hottest thing anyone’s ever told him.

“Aren’t you a sweet little thing, huh darlin’? You did that for me every time?”

Joel uses the hand that was on your breast to brush your hair behind your ear, eyes piercing yours. He can see the shyness in you still, the hesitancy coating your expression and shaky breaths.

“Uh huh.”

“You wanted me to feel good? All those times, I got to take care of myself, but nobody took care of you?”

An audible swallow cuts the silence you’ve created, a shrug of your shoulders before your meek voice vibrates Joel’s ears.

“Um, sometimes—sometimes I would touch myself or rub against one of my pillows after I turned out my light. Not every night, but when I really needed to I did.”

A pout juts Joel’s bottom lip out, his head shaking back and forth.

“Mmm, poor thing having to touch yourself, bet it didn’t ever feel like enough, huh? Probably were thinking about my hands, my mouth, my cock. Am I right, sweet girl? Were you wishing I would find you in your room and make you come?”

His words are shooting right to your cunt, fluttering inside of you and soaking your panties. This moment is more than enough for you to have your imagination run free, even if Joel never so much as kissed your cheek again. But his voice is addictive, his touch setting of ripples of goosebumps and making your body feel as if it’s filled with helium. You thought you would float to his ceiling if he wasn’t holding onto you so tight.

“Yes, yes I wanted that,” you close your eyes, the contact with Joel’s too much as you work up the courage to spill out the embarrassing reality that you’ve been dreading to tell him if you were ever caught in a moment like this, “I’m, um, I’ve never had anyone…”

Joel’s one hand plays with your hair and the other squeezes your bum gently. Your eyes open to see him staring at you full of doting affection.

“You’ve never had anyone touch you? You’re a virgin?” Your eyes cast down to the graphic on his t-shirt, nodding and feeling that meager inadequacy you’ve felt when the confession has come up to other guys and boyfriends in the past.

It wasn’t like you were saving yourself for any reason, it just never felt like the right moment. You never really wanted it with anyone in the past, and you took it as a sign when most guys, especially during college, would bolt after you told them. Your friends comforted you, after the first time telling you how shitty guys were and how they all had this complex that girls become obsessed and clingy with the guys they lose it to.

You braved yourself for that moment to happen now, waiting for Joel to tell you that ‘this wasn’t going to work’ or ‘that it’s getting kind of late’.

“Nothing wrong with that, sweetheart. We can do whatever you're comfortable with. Including doing nothing if that’s what you want.”

“What?”

Your head snaps up in surprise, facing writhe with skepticism. In Joel’s expression, you can’t find any signs of him being humorous or lying to you.

“I said, we can take this at your pace. I’d be happy just having you near me, pretty girl. I don’t wanna pressure you into anything.”

“No, no. You’re not,” your hands run across his broad shoulders, leaning in to press a featherlight kiss to his lips, “I want it with you, all of it. What I’m missing out on.”

His chuckle fills your ears, not laughing at you maliciously but as if you’re endearing to him.

“That can all happen eventually, darlin’. Not tonight,” Joel gives you a heady, yet tender kiss, pulling you by your waist over to his right more. Your knees lay on either side of his thigh, and you stare at him when he pulls back from you.

“How about tonight, you just show me how you make yourself come? I want you to show me what you like. Wanna see your beautiful face when you come. That alright with you, sweet girl?”

“What d’you mean?”

He’s patient with you, a warm palm running along your side as his head tilts.

“You rub your pretty little clit against my thigh. Just like one of your pillows. That okay? Think you’ll feel good doin’, sweetheart.”

“Okay, yeah. I wanna try it.”

Joel’s smile is sweetened as he looks at you, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. He pushes you to stand from his lap for a moment, holding you up on shaky legs while one hand tugs down the waistband of your shorts a few inches. He looks up at you through his long lashes (why do men always have the best lashes?) and presses a kiss to your hip bone.

“Can I take these off for you, darlin’?”

You nod slowly, feeling the words get caught in your throat as tension builds between the two of you.

“Need you to tell me. Always need to hear your words.”

Swallowing hard, your throat clears with a barely there hem and your voice comes out thick with want.

“You can take them off. Please take them off.”

Joel moves with your consent, smoothly pulling your cotton shorts down your legs and dropping them to the ground. He leans forward and grazes his lips along your thighs with a warm exhale, ending his exploration with a suckling kiss.

“Such a sweet, polite girl. How’d anyone resist you?”

His hands grip the backs of your thighs, bringing you into his lap and settling you over his right leg again. You whimper at the feeling of your weight pressing your clit against his thigh, the moment of friction as he adjusts your positions sending a jolt of energy throughout your bloodstream.

“Alright, pretty girl, you just move your hips how you do in your bedroom alone. Right here against my thigh.”

Hands on his shoulders brace yourself as you give your hips one roll against Joel, the wetness of your cunt leaking from your panties and onto his skin. When you pull back, you can see the slightest hint of sheen on him, mouth falling open at the sight of part of you marking him, even temporarily. A slow rhythm builds, Joel’s large hand encasing one of your ass cheeks and the other on your waist to help you find your pace.

“I imagined you over me like this all the time. Y’know what I would say to myself when I was looking at you, sweetheart?” The timbre of his deep drawl vibrates against your eardrum as he leans his head in to press a kiss right under your lobe.

“W-What would you say?” your voice is high-pitched and throaty, eyes screwing shut as you focus on his voice and the feeling of your clit dragging against him.

“I would say things like ‘Quiero saborearte’ and ‘Apuesto a que te sientes tan apretada y mojada’ and ‘Quiero dártelo’. Do you know what any of that means?”

Is he really giving you a Spanish lesson right now?

When you don’t answer, his hands grip you tighter and skid your hips to a halt, a whine pulled from your lips involuntarily as you look at him.

“I asked you if you understood what I said, sweetheart. I wanna know. Then you can keep going.”

He’s being serious, and you huff out a breath in frustration before you respond.

“All I understood is ‘quiero’ which is ‘I want’ and ‘saborear’ is to savor? I think?”

Joel rumbles out a satisfied hum, removing his hands from you completely. At the freedom, you move your hips faster, your arousal forming a wet spot on his shorts and skin. Quiet moans of his name are the only thing that you can speak as you listen to him again.

“‘Quiero saborearte’ is ‘I want to taste you.’”

Oh fuck.

His hands grip you again, moving you in figure eights to grind you harder on his leg.

“‘Apuesto a que te sientes tan apretada y mojada’ means ‘I bet you feel so tight and wet.’”

“Fuck, Joel…”

His dark chuckle cuts through after your breathy adlib, the burning hot coil in your gut twists tighter.

“God, you look so pretty like this. Can’t wait to see what you look like when I have my fingers or tongue on you. I know I’ll get you screaming my name.”

Smug fucker.

“And ‘Quiero dártelo’ translates to ‘I want to put it in.’ Is that what you thought about when you were making a mess on your pillows, sweet girl? Thought about me giving you my cock?”

“Joel, I-I’m gonna—“

“I know, sweetheart, I know. Let go, come on my thigh.”

That’s when the dam breaks and you're swept up into the flood of pleasure that washes over you like a tidal wave. All you can respond to Joel is “yesyesyes” as your eyes roll back into your head with your jaw dropped, his hands continuing to slide your hips back and forth to ride out your orgasm.

“So beautiful, darlin’…”

The feeling dissipates eventually, your chest heaving breaths to slow your heart rate down. Your eyes meet Joel’s again, a Cheshire smile wide across his face as he leans in and kisses you passionately. He pulls away, pressing quick pecks on your lips and around your cheeks, coaxing a laugh from you. You press his back against the couch, grin filled with a shy affection as you stare at him. You move to stand on your knees to climb off of him, your leg brushing his bulge and feeling his cock twitch in his shorts. Eyes snap back to his, a curious expression covering your features.

“Can I do something for you?”

“Another time, sweetheart. S’real late now, probably should get back home to get some sleep.” Joel thumbs your lip as you pout, wrapping around him in a tight hug.

“I don’t wanna leave.”

“I know, darlin’, I wish you could stay with me all night. But wouldn’t be the best look for you to walk home tomorrow morning from my house in your little PJs.”

You sigh deeply, pressing a light kiss to his neck before sitting up again and nodding in understanding.

“You’re right. I should get home,” you stand from the couch and pull on your shorts, slinking over to the front door with him in tow to slip into your flip flops, “See you Monday?”

You look up at him with wide, doleful eyes filled with hope, relief washing over you as he pulls you into him and gives you a breathtaking kiss.

“Can’t wait for it, sweet girl. Have a good Sunday.”

He sends you out the door after one, or a few, last kisses, standing in the doorway to make sure you get in alright.

Feeling your mind in the clouds and floating on adrenaline, you glide up to your room and flop onto your bed. Laying with your thoughts recounting the last hour of your life, you’re only pulled out when your phone buzzes with a message.

Joel:

Think you can sit up on your bed, sweetheart?

The message confuses you for a second until it clicks and you sit up quickly, turning on your mattress to face your window.

Joel’s lights are on for once in his room, his silhouette standing in the window. One hand supports him against the glass, shirt off and shorts pulled a few inches down his thighs. His arm flexes as he jerks his cock, breath fogging up the spot he’s closest to.

A wave of arousal rushes to your core, watching him on full display unlike every other time you’ve been the one to put the show on for him. It only takes a moment looking at you sitting on your bed, even in your pajamas, before his head is rolling back, jaw dropped and hand against the window clenching into a fist as he paints his hand with his come.

You fall back onto your bed when he walks out of sight, assuming he’s cleaning up. One more buzz sounds before you turn your light out, a second message from Joel:

Need you to stay late on Monday.

taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @clingontolife @elizabeth01585 @wandaandellie @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @livinxdeadxgrl @sw33tp1xie @starsandsaints07 @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras @whydontyoysaynodoja @beee-haw @shmaptainshmerica07 @jenna-mcgraw19 @whore-4-pedro @spursgirl14-blog @katifefe @joelmillerswifu @itsgiorgiaz @soph55 @grapejuicesny @wild-hearts-runfree @youcancallmeelle @lisa-ru @jupitren @ziggy-star @miaispunk @oneofutoo @starkovli @thatgeminigirlx @marchai @bunnyskisses @houseofballoonsth @casual-obsessions @pedro-pascal-lvr @bimbodolls-world @burningnerdchild @tuquoquebrute @mrsvedder12 @estelivi28 @helllsent @bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @angie2274 @owod3 @pedrostories @pedroholicx @theelishad @johnwatsn @sunakochansama43 @elissaaa @felicityofbakerstreet @atinylittlepain

[blue-aconite]

two for one || j.h.s

Summary: A visit to the local shelter brings not one, but two surprises.

Warnings: No use of y/n, fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

Pairings: Jake Seresin x reader

Authors Note: Based on these pictures. I saw them and couldn’t get it out of my head. Thanks to my lovely betas @wkndwlff​ & @ryebecca​, you’re the best!

When your boss told you to take Tuesday off, you wasted no time in signing off and putting your work phone on ‘do not disturb.’ You had been logging a lot of overtime lately, brokering a deal with a new business partner and overlooking the expansion of the Boston office. Luckily you could stay in San Diego working remotely with the team from Boston, letting you avoid the time consuming travel across the country. 

You had washed three loads of laundry and cleaned out both the pantry and the fridge. After a quick stop at your favourite deli for lunch, you headed out to the grocery store. You opened up all the windows when you got home, putting away the groceries and then taking on the task of cleaning the condo. You had some time to kill before starting dinner, so you headed outside to relax on your hammock with a book. 

You must have dozed off because the next thing you know, your boyfriend is shaking you awake. “What time is it?” you groaned, stretching your limbs. 

“A little after three. Last class got cancelled, so I figured I’d head home early to surprise my girlfriend. Looks like you’ve been busy today.” You hummed as he pressed a quick kiss to your lips, pulling you up from the hammock.

“I just wanted to get everything done so we could enjoy our weekend off together.” 

Jake wrapped his arms around you, kissing the tip of your nose. “I have a surprise for you.” 

“What?” You looked up at him, a playful smile on his face, eyes vibrant with joy.

“Remember how we talked about getting a dog?” Jake had a childlike excitement surrounding him, that cheeky grin you loved so much in place. 

“Fanboy was showing me pictures of this shelter and I thought that we might go and take a look.” 

You lit up, bouncing on your feet. “Really? Because I know you said you weren’t sure and -,” Jake cut you off, kissing you again.

“Yes sugar, I’m sure. The shelter closes at 6pm, so I figured we’d head there now and we can pick up dinner on our way home.” You were already heading towards his truck before he finished speaking. Jake followed behind, smiling at your childlike glee. “I just gotta change, baby. Then we can go.”

“Aw, baby look.” You gestured to the German Shepherd who was snoozing in the corner. Jake trailed behind you. The shelter was fairly empty, both with people and animals. Lisa, a volunteer, explained that they recently had a “family day” and a lot of the animals had been adopted.

“We’ve really seen an upswing in adoption recently, it’s honestly so great seeing these animals find their forever home.” Lisa spoke with Jake as you wandered around. An odd sight in the back captured your attention and you kneeled down to get a better look. 

Your heart melted as you set your sights upon a tiny dog, all curled up into a ball. What melted it even further is the cat sleeping by its side. They looked so cute, all cuddled up with each other. The tag on the outside told you that their names were Ares and Apollo. You turned around to call on Jake, only for him to be right behind you.

“What’s this?” He asked as he kneeled down next to you. The dog blinked at the two of you sleepily before snuggling its face into the cat’s fur. 

“Look at them baby, they’re so cute.” You gushed, wiggling in your excitement. 

Lisa wandered over to the two of you. “Ah, you’ve found our little makeshift family. They were found together, abandoned in a box by the side of the highway. They’re most likely from the same home. We’ve estimated that they’re both around a year old. We tried to separate them at first, but they were both so unhappy that we just let them be together. It’s made adopting a bit more difficult. Not a lot of people want to take on the responsibility of both. But we’re adamant that they go together.”

Your mind is made up the moment she stops talking and you turn to Jake, pout in place, as you prepare to plead with him. He rolled his eyes at you. “We said one dog darlin’.”

“Yes, I know, but look at them! And they have to be together.” Jake raised an eyebrow, but you were determined. “And! When we’re not home, they won’t be lonely because they’ll have each other! I know we said a dog but I’ve always wanted a cat, too. Please, baby?”

Jake was quiet for a moment, watching the little animals sleep. The dog, Apollo, had a fair coat - white mixed with light brown. The cat, Ares, on the other hand, had pitch black fur. 

“I guess we need to pick up a couple of cat things, too, then.” Jake said, and you squealed, throwing your arms around him. 

You stayed with them as Jake talked to Lisa, getting everything in order for the adoption. The dog yawned as you tickled its belly, almost squishing the cat in the process as he chased your fingers. The cat was more apprehensive but after some ear scratches and treats, it let you pick it up. 

Jake returned with a carrier in hand, letting the dog sniff him before picking him up. “Hey, buddy. You’re gonna come home with us, isn’t that great?”

You packed all the essentials into the truck before thanking Lisa and heading home.

Setting everything up was fairly simple. The litterbox went into the laundry room and Jake scattered various toys and a bed in a corner of the living room. You insisted on getting a water fountain and you set up their bowls in the kitchen. A second bed was placed at the foot of your bed. 

After making a grand showing of the litter box for Ares, and telling them where to eat, you walked around with the little creatures, showing them their new home.

They both warmed up to their new surroundings quite quickly and before you know it, they’re both snoozing off between you and Jake on the couch as you watched the news. 

“Baby?” 

Jake hummed, absentmindedly scratching Ares behind his ears. Apollo is cuddled into your side, tongue sticking out.

“Thank you. I love you.”

Jake lifted his arm and you moved gently, as not to startle Apollo and cuddled into his side. “I love you, too. And to be honest, I don’t think I could have gone home without them. They’re perfect.”

“Hah, I knew it. You loved them as soon as you saw them, too, right?” Jake rolled his eyes, nudging your side.

“Yeah, I did. But one of us have to be responsible.” You giggled, lifting Ares so he could rest in your lap. An idea suddenly struck you and you squished your face against the side of Jake’s arm to stop the laughter. 

Jake nudged you again. “What are you laughing about now?”

You snorted, trying to hide your amusement. “You’re totally gonna be one of those cat dads who said they didn’t want a cat but secretly loves it.” 

He made a noise of protest but stopped as Ares abandoned you and crawled onto Jake’s lap. Apollo was snoozing between the two of you. “Don’t tell anyone.”

You smiled. “I won’t. Besides, it’s good training.”

“For what?” Jake murmured, tickling Apollo’s tummy. 

You found yourself falling in love with him all over as you watched him fawn over the two of them. When you first met him, you had doubted that he would want something serious and settle down. Now, two years later, you couldn’t be more wrong. 

Jake was everything you wanted and more. And as you watched him with the two newest additions to your future, you knew he would make a great dad one day. But for now, you would have to be parents to two little four legged babies and you couldn’t be more happy.

Taglist: @wildbornsiren​ @therebeccaw @imjess-themess @antiquitea @fuckyeahhangman @writercole @hederasgarden @yanna-banana @wkndwlff @bobfloydsbabe @hollandorks @anniesocsandgeneralstore @ereardon @luminousnotmatter @roosterscock @thedroneranger @fandomxpreferences @top-hhun @princessmisery666 @bradshawsbitch​ @princessphilly @a-reader-and-a-writer @green-socks @angstybluejay @seresinhangmanjake @ayorooster​@notroosterbradshaw​ @indynerdgirl @gigisimsonmars @girl-in-the-chairs-void @bradshawbabes @unhinged-btch @horseshoegirl @sadpetalsstuff @bradshawbaby @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @ummjustfics​ @septemberrie​ @somenamewithepineapple​ @seresinsweetie​​ @crescentwolf​ @seresinhangmanjake​ @sylviebell​ @waklman​ @roosterforme​ @rosiahills22​ @dempy​ @i0veless​ @ilovewriting06​ @kmc1989​ @demxters @amortentiadrops @teacupsandtopgun @hangmanscoming​​

[chicademartinica]

Only Friends episode 1

Yes fam I loved it. This show was written and directed by queer cinephile millennials and it shows. The late 90’s erotic thriller cinematography, fashion choices,and edit is a perfect hommage to a very specific period. (see Cruel Intentions, Wild Things but also Scream and trust me on this one DAWSON’S CREEK.)

Hair and make-up are classic Jojo team. Everybody is moisturized, lip balmed and coconut oiled. No lightening make-up, we see every mole and every freckle. (They accentuated Mark’s eyes and whew !) Everybody’s earrings are real shiny too.

The actors are in their bag. Khao is blindingly attractive. He is so talented it’s just unfair. His improve with the seatbelt scene ? Too good. First is on 10 as per usual. Force is unrecognizable, cold eyes, mechanic smile, that man is a snake on legs. Neo WHEW. Mark Pakin is an amazing on-screen kisser on top of everything. Book is so difficult to read, I find it so intriguing. The whole cast is just enjoying themselves and you can tell.

There was a lot of excellent seduction in this episode but Nick dropping the act for a second, just amazed that his bold move worked as he leads Boston to the back of the store ? Nick’s not a player he just HAD to do it. (The “I put a nude in you phone is based on a true story. People are nuts lol)

I loved Mew repeating that he knows how to read people.I’m sure you do boo but 1. You also said that if you fuck Top you’ll fall for him. 2. You already fell for him so your judgement was kaput FROM THE JUMP.3 Top will , sing it with me, bleed you dry like a goddam vampire, even though you are indeed very smart. He dickmatized Boston so he is in fact Beelzebub.

First has experience in throwing people out of his house idc. That “take you shit and go”pants throw ?!! 10 out a 10.

Boston one night stand was kinda trash for his partner. Count on Jojo and his pals to put a selfish lover on screen. Also Topboy stopping the second Mew says so. Sand handling drunk baby boo with the outmost care. And masturbation of course. Nick being an amazing but fragile lover was my favorite.

LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING IF RAY IS RESPONSIBLE FOR SAND BISEXUAL AWAKENING ??!!!

NB : The sex scene in the shop would be in a video store if video stores still existed.