#i enjoy the low battery warning

[mismatched-sockss]

Follow my lead

» Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader » Word count: 5,8k (help, i got a little carried away..) » Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI, squint and you'll miss the plot, established relationship, reader hasn't been able to orgasm from masturbation alone, mentions of using sex toys to cum (f), guided masturbation, masturbation (f and m), praising / praise kink, dirty talk, unintentional edging (f), voyerism, multiple orgasms, some begging, a lot of check ins, unprotected p in v, creampie, i think this already counts as (soft)dom!Spencer, pet names (good girl for reader, baby, love) » A/N: and here we have my first entry for the bingo! it's my first time participating in a bigger challenge, i can't tell you all how excited i am about this whole thing. don't ask me what happend here, i was shocked when i checked the word count... also, this is the first time writing smut again after years, so bare with me please. hope you enjoy!

⚶ bingo masterlist | masterlist ⚶

“Never?”

“Never. I don't know, it just doesn't do it for me.”

“But you are- I mean, when”, Spencer mumbled, waving his hands around and pointing at you then him, back and forth a couple of times. “When we-”, he trailed off, his cheeks blushing as he got shy and a bit insecure.

“Oh? No”, you started but when his eyes slightly widened you realized it came out wrong. You stepped closer to him and took his hands in yours, softly squeezing them as you looked up at him with a reassuring smile. “Yes, it works when we are sleeping with each other. You do make me cum.” He huffed out a small laugh and blushed a bit more, but the insecurity that had bubbled up was leaving him again.

You pulled him in to you and placed his hands on your waist, then leaned against him and rested your chin against his chest, looking up at him. Shrugging, you wrapped your arms around his mid. “I just can't finish from only touching myself. Not without using toys that require batteries at least.”

Spencer softly squeezed your waist and started drawing circles with his thumbs. He slightly squinted his eyes and nodded his head a couple of times in thought; you could practically hear the gears turning as an idea formed in his mind. You raised your chin. “What?”

“Show me.”

“Huh? Show you? You mean, you...”, you trailed off. Now it was your turn to get shy, the heat rising up in your body, creeping higher until your face grew hot. “You want to watch me.. masturbate?”

Spencer nodded, one side of his lips turned up in a teasing half smile. “Yes. You said I make you cum, so there must be something I'm doing right.” Both of you chuckled at that. “You could show me how you touch yourself and I could talk you through it. If you'd like to try, I mean.”

Subconsciously you pressed you thighs together, which Spencer didn't miss. You licked over your bottom lip, then pulled it between your teeth as you thought about what he was saying. Spencer's eyes followed the motion as he was studying your face, studying your reaction to his proposition.

The thought alone made your heart beat faster and it ignited a raging fire in you. The thought of his eyes watching closely as you lie before him, legs spread and with your hands between your thighs. His voice and words guiding and aiding your pleasure, telling you what to do and how to do it...

Your breath hitched and you swallowed hard. He raised one of his hands to cup your cheek, his thumb softly brushed over the corner of your mouth. “Is that a yes?”, he asked, his voice low. Spencer already knew the answer just by watching your reaction, but wanted you to say it out loud. His other hand sneaked under your shirt, his fingertips caressing your skin on their way higher and higher until he stopped at your ribs.

If he would give you a second, just one second without him touching or teasing you in some way, you would be able to form a sentence and answer with more than a nod. As if he had read your mind, Spencer slightly pulled back, giving you space to breathe and without his hands on you.

And even though this was what you had wanted a few seconds ago so you could properly answer him, you immediately missed his touch and a whine escaped you. He just chuckled and raised an eyebrow, encouraging you to speak, still waiting for an answer.

“Okay. Yes”, you breathed out and nodded, “wanna do it.” A desperate plea still on your tongue, he cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips to yours.

You sighed against his mouth, your lips parting. Spencer deepened the kiss and both of you moaned when your tongues met. A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his hands slide down over your neck and collarbones, over your chest where he was careful not to touch your nipples through the fabric and down to your sides, where he pushed them back under the hem of your shirt, slowly making his way up..

The kiss only broke for a moment when he pulled your shirt over your head, his lips instantly reattaching to yours and his hands back on you, now able to roam freely over your skin without any restrictions. You slid your own hands over his chest and started to unbutton his dress shirt. You just undid the last button when you gasped and bunched up the material in your hands; Spencer slowly slid one of his hands under the hem of your panties and groaned against your lips when he felt how wet you were.

His finger slid through your folds, teasing at your entrance before he drew slow and gentle circles on your clit. When your breath hitched and you began to grind your hips against his hand, he stopped and pulled his hand out of your pants

“Nuh-uh, the deal was for you to make yourself cum; with your own hands”, he taunted, as if he hadn't started this himself just now. He lifted your chin and pressed a kiss to your lips. When he leaned back you tried to chase his lips, whining when he left you hanging and took a step back, shrugging the shirt off his shoulders as he did so. Then he took another step. And another. “Take the rest of your clothes off.”

The buckle of his belt rattled as Spencer opened it, your eyes followed his hands. You watched him pull it out of the loops and drop it to the floor next to him before he unbuttoned his pants – but kept them on – and sat down in the armchair. His eyes never left you, following each of your moves. You hooked your thumbs into the hem of your pants and underwear and pulled them down, letting them pool around your ankles.

“Sit down, spread your legs and put your hands on your knees.”

You stepped out of the pile of fabric and kicked them to the side, right onto the rest of your discarded clothes, then you did as he told you and sat down across from him on the sofa, slowly opening your legs.

Being naked in front of Spencer was one thing, but this? It was a totally new feeling for you; a different – a special – kind of vulnerability you had never experienced before, not with him, not with anybody.

You felt like your skin was on fire, inch after inch getting ignited as Spencer's eyes wandered over your naked body, lingering here and there for a moment; on your bottom lip when you licked over it and pulled it between your teeth, the swell of your breasts and your hardening nipples, down over your soft stomach to your glistening pussy, already wet from his teasing, and your hands loosely resting on your knees.

“Like that. Good girl.”

This wasn't the first time he called you a 'good girl', but today... Fuck... A shiver ran down your back and you were barely able to hold back a whimper, the ache in your core getting stronger and you felt yourself clench around nothing. God, you wanted to feel him deep inside you; tongue, fingers, cock. What ever you could get. What ever he would give you. Your hands shook in anticipation and you felt yourself getting wetter and needier.

Spencer's eyes darkened when he saw your intense reaction to the praise and his jaw went slack for a moment before he fixed his gaze back on your face, trying to gain back some composure. His hands held a tight grip on the armrests, his knuckles almost white, as if he had to physically hold himself back from just getting up and ravaging you right then and there.

You loved the effect you had on him, that just seeing you drove him crazy. It made you feel powerful.

He took a deep breath in through his nose and slowly breathed out, calming himself down. His grip on the armrests loosened then and he leaned back. “I want you to start by moving your hands over your thighs”, he instructed, his voice low and raspy. “Slowly.”

Without having to think about it you followed his words and let your hands glide over your soft skin with a gentle pressure; from your knees over the outsides of your thighs until you reached your hips, then you moved them up to slide them back down to your knees again.

“You can touch your inner thighs as well, but don't touch your pussy yet.”

You nodded and took a shaky breath. The insides of your thighs were more sensitive and you shuddered as you got closer and closer to your core and a soft moan escaped your lips. Even though Spencer told you not to, you wanted nothing more than to play with your clit or slide two of your fingers inside, thrusting them in and out.

And when he moved his hand to his bulge, palming himself as he watched you, you thought that maybe, he would let you do it. He didn't give you permission and you didn't ask, but you didn't stop moving your hands further up. But when your fingertips got too close to your folds, he clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“Sorry”, you mumbled breathless and pulled your hands back. You slid them back down, closer to your knees, and grabbed your thighs.

“'s okay, baby.” Then Spencer chuckled. “And you can sit more comfortably if you want, by the way. You don't have to sit up with a straight back.”

You pouted with a smile on your lips as you looked beside you and grabbed a pillow to put it behind your back. “I knew that.” You leaned back, testing if the pillow was in a good position and when you where satisfied with the placement you scooted back some more and fully rested your body against it.

“Anything you feel like doing right now?”, Spencer asked. You opened your mouth, but before you could say anything he added with a smirk: “Except for touching your pussy.”

You grinned at him. “What about for you to fuck me?” But he just shook his head, chuckling.

“Patience, love.”

Well, it was still worth a try. You held back the disappointed and needy whine that wanted to come out and for a moment you tried to think about it, you really did. But you made the mistake to look down his torso and Spencer's hand was just too damn distracting. He was still palming himself over his pants, softly squeezing from time to time. And while he was waiting for your answer, he lazily stroked his thumb back and forth over his clothed shaft.

The words came out choked and barely audible when you finally forced yourself to answer, your fingers digging hard in to your flesh. “Don't know...”

“First thing that comes to mind.” His voice was lazed with amusement; Spencer was enjoying this so much and he knew exactly what he was doing to you right now. His tongue darted out to lick over his lip and the softly bit down in the tip.

After a deep breath you made yourself look at his face and softened the grip you had on your thighs. “Maybe... touch my breasts? My nipples?”

He smiled softly. “No wrong answers here.” With a tilt of his head he raised his chin as confirmation. “Go ahead. Keep your hands on your body.”

With a tender touch your moved your hands up your body, softly caressing your skin, up to your tits and cupped them with your hands.

“Gently massage them, play with your nipples.”

You gasped when you followed his instructions and rolled your hard nipples between your fingers, the sensation shooting waves of pleasure down to your core. With every flick and twist you grew needier. Impatient.

"Feels good?", he asked breathy, his voice shaking a bit when he moved his hand faster and with more pressure over his cock.

"Not as good as when you do it”, you whined.

Spencer chuckled again; his tone teasing. "Want me to touch you?"

You nodded your head eagerly, your back slightly arching into your hands. "Mh-hm, please."

"Wanna see you make yourself cum first, okay? You can do it. I'll touch you as much as you want after."

If you wouldn't get some kind of release soon, you would go insane, completely feral. Closing your legs to press your thighs together for some friction wasn't an option and with the way you were sitting you couldn't exactly try and rub yourself against the sofa. And maybe it was written on your face in big, bold letters, because Spencer – finally – gave you the go.

“Slide your hands down your stomach, move your fingertips over your lips and tease yourself for a moment – yes, good, like that. When you are ready, go ahead and touch your clit. Soft circles.”

The first stoke of your fingers over your clit felt like heaven and ecstasy flooded through your whole body. Your head fell back and you moaned loudly; it felt so good to finally be able to feel your fingers where you so desperately had wanted them that your body started to tremble. A string of mashed together words fell from your lips, you didn't even realize you were saying them. ”Thankyouthankyouthankyou-”

You melted back into the pillow, gasping and moaning as the pleasure became more and more; your other hand found its way back to your tits on its own, groping at the soft flesh and teasing your nipple as your fingers between your legs moved in slow, tight circles.

The sound of clothes rustling made you lift your head; Spencer lifted his hips to slip off his pants, letting them pool around his ankles. He adjusted his position and leaned back, his knees slightly falling apart and he wrapped his hand around his hard cock.

The sight made you whimper, the need to taste him and feel him overtaking your whole being. But you knew, even if you would ask – beg – him to fuck you, he wouldn't do it, not now; you hadn't cum yet. So you did the next best thing and pushed two of your fingers into your leaking cunt.

A breathy laugh fell from Spencer's lips as he watched you start to thrust your fingers into yourself as soon as you had seen him. His grip on his cock tightened and he started to pump his fist faster, not holding back his own moans. He so desperately wanted to bury himself in your tight walls and it took everything in him to hold back. “God, you look so perfect right now... So fucking pretty.”

The both of you worked each other up, the pleasure getting more intense with every stroke; hands moving, touching and teasing with more and more want and desperation.

But somehow it still wasn't enough. “Can I go faster?”, you whimpered, your voice wavering.

“Of course, baby. Go as fast or as slow as you want.”

The room filled with both of your moans and panting, and the sounds of skin hitting on skin – Spencer's fist hitting his pelvis and the palm of your hand slapping against your slick cunt – as you gradually picked up the pace until you were franticly fucking yourself with your fingers.

After a while you slowed down your pace again, trying to catch your breath. You felt the familiar knot form in your belly as you pumped your fingers in and out of your heat, your walls fluttering around them.

“Think I'm getting close...”, you breathed out, followed by a high-pitched gasp when your palm rubbed over your clit.

A groan formed in the back of Spencer's throat. “Touch your clit again; you can go slow or fast, in circles or not, however it feels right.”

You pulled your fingers out and swirled them over your clit, your fingertips effortlessly sliding over it. The muscles in your stomach tightened as your orgasm built up. You fought against the urge to thrust your hips up, trying to keep your focus on rubbing your clit. You didn't want to get distracted, this was the closest you had ever gotten yourself and if you had to concentrate on moving your hips as well as your hand and fingers, you wouldn't be able to keep up with both movements.

Your breathing got quicker and heat was rising up in your body. Just when you felt like you would burst – it stopped; instead of falling over the edge your body refused to go further, keeping you right on the ledge. As if it was taunting you, the sensation became weaker, not even leaving you on the edge any more.

It was always like this when you tried to finish without a toy; your managed to make yourself feel good and when you got close – which also felt like it took forever to even get there – your body refused to give you the release you had been chasing.

A whine left your lips, you were borderline sobbing, as you squeezed your eyes shut. The need to cum and the frustration that it wasn't working, together with the unintentionally edging had you close to tears. You slowed your movements, but kept going nonetheless. “I can't. Told you it doesn't work for me.”

“Don't fight it, you almost had it. Let your body take control and let it guide you.”

You nodded eagerly and met his eyes. “Okay, I- I'll try.” You tried to hold his gaze and after a deep breath you slowly pick up the pace again. Spencer matched your pace, the slow lazy strokes getting faster as he pumped his cock with the same speed your fingers were circling your clit. Your eyelids fluttered as your gaze flickered between his face – all flushed, desire burning in his eyes and slack-jawed, with his lips slightly parted – and his hand stroking his erection.

This time when your hips jolted, you let it happen and shifted your focus to what you were feeling instead of what you were doing. It took you a moment or two to fully let go and give into the pleasure, your movements faltering a couple of times until your mind cleared and your hips and fingers synced up to work together in a delicious, steady rhythm.

“That's it, baby. Just like that. You are doing so well.” Spencer's voice was low and his tone had gotten so gravelly, he was almost growling.

You leaned back, your moans getting louder again as heat spread under your skin until your whole body was on fire , the knot in your stomach began to tighten again. It got tighter and tighter until –

“Oh fuck”, you screamed out in between your moans as your legs began to shake, and when the coil in your lower belly snapped your thighs clamped shut. Your hand stilled and your fingers stopped working your clit; instead your hips kept jolting, thrusting up into your fingers and prolonged your orgasm on their own accord. Your back arched off the sofa and you slapped your other hand on the cushion next to you, tightly gripping it in your fist.

When your body finally calmed down you gasped for air and through the foggy haze clouding your mind you vaguely registered moaning and a string of words – probably an array of curses, maybe even some praise about how well you did, how pretty you looked when you came, good girl – but the blood rushing through your ears was too loud, making it hard to make out any words.

As your muscles relaxed more, your body got limb and let yourself slide along the back of the couch until you were lying down; pulling one leg onto the couch, the other still hanging down. The more oxygen you got, the more you came back to. The shaking in your legs had almost stopped, instead your shoulders started to shake as you began to giggle. “Holy shit.”

A low laugh made you turn your head to the side and open your eyes. Your were met with Spencer's face right next to yours, a proud smile on his lips as he took in your blissed out state. He had just knelt down next to you, his hand found its way to your forehead and brushed away a few sweaty strands. “See? Knew you could do it, 'm so proud of you, baby.” He moved his hand to cup your cheeks, then further down to curl it around the back of your neck.

Your smile grew bigger and you took a shaky breath to say something, but before you could Spencer pulled you closer and kissed you desperately; the need to be near you, touch you, feel you, overpowering him. You kissed him back just as feverishly and buried your hands in his hair. Spencer let his hand wander from your neck down to your breasts, his fingers leaving your skin burning up and begging for more. He cupped one of them, gently massaging it and started playing with your nipple, rolling it between his fingertips and pinching it with just the right amount of pressure that made you tremble and arch your back into him.

You whimpered and softly tugged on the strands at the back of his head. He groaned into your mouth in return and you felt him shift his position as he got up, pulling his knee up to hold him self up so he could lean over you. His touch and his lips, finally feeling his hands on your body, made you feel dizzy and reignited the ache in your core, your clit throbbing, desperately waiting for his attention.

The sudden feeling of his hand between your thighs made you jump a little, you broke the kiss and gasped which quickly turned into a high-pitched moan when he slipped one of his fingers in between your slick folds, only grazing your entrance as he collected some of your arousal. You were still sensitive from your orgasm, but the rush of him finally touching you was stronger and you started to move your hips.

He didn't make you wait long and so after a few tight circles over your clit, he slid his fingers down to your entrance and sank two of them into you, filling you up so much better than your own had done and reaching that spot deep inside you that you couldn't quite reach yourself.

The both of you quickly fell in an easy rhythm with each other and he had you a moaning and blabbering mess in a matter of seconds; it would almost be embarrassing if you would care about it. It blew your mind every time – every god damn day – how much power Spencer held over you, both body and mind. And if he would be anybody else, it might even scare you.

“You looked so beautiful, love, you have no idea”, Spencer breathlessly cooed against your delicate skin, kissing and softly nibbling along your neck and throat. “Could watch you play with yourself all day.”

You wouldn't be able to say anything to him even if you wanted, your mind getting blank and fuzzy; all what left your lips where breathy moans and pleas. A whiny gasp left your throat when he curled his fingers, pressing his fingertips against the very spot that made you see stars.

Spencer kissed his way to the sensitive spot under your ear and when he spoke again, whispering into your ear, his lips grazed it. “Can feel how close you are, it's okay, baby. Come for me.”

He asked and your body complied.

With his name on your lips, repeating it over and over like a prayer, your orgasm washed over you. Your eyes rolled back and when your whole body tensed up, you tried to hold on to something to anchor yourself. You blindly reached for his wrist and held it in a tight grip, your other hand curled around his arm, clawing at his biceps. Spencer kept the pace he was circling your clit with his thumb with and pumping his fingers into you as you clenched around them, trying to suck him in deeper.

Your walls were still fluttering around his fingers when you released his wrist from your grip and moved your hand to the back of his head, pulling him even closer to you. The vibrations of him chuckling against your pulse tickled your skin and you whined quietly when he slowly pulled his fingers out of your cunt, leaving you empty. He slightly leaned back and looked at you, a crooked smirk stretched on his lips. “Still want more, huh?”

“Please, baby, need you, please.” You keened, not at all caring how needy you sounded.

He shook his head at you, not to say no, but in a affectionate you are something else kind of way. “Think you got enough strength left to hold yourself up a little?”

“Yes, think so.” You swallowed and breathed deeply, nodding your head as you held his gaze. ”I will.”

“That's my good girl.” Spencer closed the small space between you and kissed you, swallowing the whiny sound you made, his lips lingering on yours for a moment, then he helped you to sit up. You watched him reach for the other pillows that had scattered around the couch and bunch them up, piling them against the back of the seats, right next to you. “C'mere.”

His hands found your hips and you let him guide you in to the position he had wanted you in, right against the pillows. He guided you to sit – kneel really – in front of the piled up pillows, chest facing them and gently pushed your upper body with a hand between your shoulder blades down. You lay against the pile, letting it support your body and after adjusting it a bit, you crossed your arms on top and placed your head down; you were practically hugging the whole thing.

He nudged your leg with his knee to spread your legs more so he could kneel behind you. With a sigh you relaxed your muscles and enjoyed Spencers hands roaming over your back. He planted a couple of kisses on your neck and shoulder, then placed his hand on the backrest behind you to hold himself up and craned his neck to catch your eyes. You shifted the position of your head slightly so you could look at him better.

“Are you comfortable?”

You smiled at him and hummed, nodding your head. Spencer returned the smile and leaned closer, to capture your lips in a kiss. It was supposed to be a quick one, just a small peck, but his front was now flush against your back and his dick had fit so perfectly between you, with his shaft splitting your folds and pressed against your entrance that he couldn't hold back any more.

So instead, he moved his hand from the sofa to the back of your head, holding you close as he slid his tongue into your mouth and deepened the kiss. You moaned into each others mouths, desperately rocking your hips against each other. He pressed himself against you as close as possible, leaving no space between your bodies, as if he wanted to make up for the time he hadn't touched you all evening.

All it took was for him to pull back just a bit more and his cock slipped right into you, bottoming out at once. “Shit”, you hissed at the sudden stretch, directly followed by crying out his name in pleasure when he pulled out just an inch or two and slowly thrust back in, even deeper.

His forehead fell to your shoulder and Spencer let out a long, deep moan. He placed his left hand back on the backrest – closer to your front this time so his arm was circling around you, more like he was holding you in a hug – and his other took a tight hold on your hip. For a long moment neither of you moved, just basking in the feeling of each other and trying to catch your breaths.

Every time you exhaled, a soft whimpering sigh left your lips. You pulled your left arm out from under your body and reached for his hand on the backrest, slotting your fingers between his. He moved his fingers slightly so he could gently squeeze yours.

Spencer was the first to move. You felt him lift his head and press his lips to your shoulder, before he repeated the same slow and deep thrust from before, not moving his body away even an inch from yours. He kept rolling his hips into you in a slow pace, pushing in deep and hard rather than fast.

Your whole body was pushed hard against the pillows in front of you every time he rocked into you, every thrust eliciting a low moan from you. You let your head fall back against him, leaning the side of your face against his. “Fuck, feel so good around me”, he groaned right by your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin.

He kept the slow and hard pace for a while, only moving faster when you pushed back against him, needing to feel more of him. You gasped with every quickening breath, the ache in your stomach was growing again. “'m close”, you breathed out, your hand tightening the hold on his.

With his nose he gently nudged your cheek. “You know what to do”, he said breathless.

You shook your head quickly, whining desperately. “No, no, no, nonono, please, need you to touch me. Please.”

“Aw, but you did so well earlier.” He planted a kiss to your jaw, then moved his lips to your ear and pulled your earlobe between his teeth, gently nibbling on it.

“Promised...Ah... Said 'yd touch me.. all I want...” You got quieter with every word, your voice high-pitched and shaky with need.

Spencer chuckled and leaned his forehead against your temple. “Mmh, I did, didn't I?” All you could do was nod, not trusting your voice any more. But there were no more words needed. He sneaked his free hand between you and the pillows to give you what you wanted, needed.

You hadn't expected to be this sensitive, but when his fingertips slid over your clit you jolted forward, crying out his name. “Fuck...” His chest rumbled with a deep laugh against your back and he pushed your body against the pile of pillows with his own to hold you in place. In sync with the quick flicks of his fingers, he picked up the pace he was thrusting into your pussy, his hips snapping against you faster and faster.

You tried to hold yourself up, leaning your forearms against the backrest, but your arms had gotten too weak so all you could do was hold onto it with your hands in a tight grip, taking what Spencer gave you; your head hung low and nothing more then moans left your lips.

When he felt you clench hard around him, Spencer groaned and leaned his temple against yours, his mouth near your ear. “Such a good girl, taking me so well”, he panted and increased the pressure on your clit; the praise did exactly what he had intended and it sent you over the edge, with a choked out cry your back arched against him and you came, your whole body shaking. He had been close before, but it took him by surprise when you pussy clenched so hard around him that you pulled him right with you, his dick twitching and he spilled himself into you.

Both of you collapsed against the back of the sofa, breathing hard, and you let out an uff when Spencer's weight got too much. “Sorry”, he said breathlessly and immediately pulled back; you hissed when he pulled out in the same move. He moved his arm around your torso and helped you holding yourself up. You tiredly grabbed pillow after pillow and just threw it blindly to the side to let them fall to the floor. The last one was a bit difficult to get out from under you, but after you got it out you moved it to the end of the couch.

You let your body fall into the cushions, ringing for air and with your eyes closed. Next to you, Spencer got up. You reached out to him, alarmed when you heard him stumble; he luckily had regained his balance before he fell over his own feet, but his knees were still a bit wobbly. “Are you okay?”, you asked, your lips stretching into a worried smile. He huffed out a laugh and took the hand you had reached out into his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Yeah, I'm good. Just wanted to get us some water.” He gave your fingers a gentle squeeze before he let go and bend down to get his boxer shorts to put them back on before he slowly walked into the kitchen. Not even a minute later he came back and handed you a glass of cold water, his own already half empty.

When you had finished your water he took your glasses and put them down on the coffee table. You lifted your arms and reached for him, beckoning for him to come back and lay down on the couch with you.

“Five minutes”, you said softly, a wide smile on your lips; you already knew Spencer was about to shoo you up and into the shower.

He huffed, but took your hand and joined you. You made him some space and rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You hummed content, nuzzling your face deeper into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes. After a short moment you mumbled: “Maybe ten minutes...”

Spencer just laughed and pulled you closer.

[agi-ppangx]

low battery (han jisung x gn!reader)

no warnings, fluff/comfort, just two lovers comforting each other after a long evening; 0.5k words

author's note: this was requested by my lovely green, i hope you'll like it although its not my best work<3 also its not proofread so i apologise for any mistakes and typos🫡 please remember that feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated🫶🏽

“baby?” jisung called out as soon as he heard the door open, followed by your heavy sigh. you remained silent as you took off your shoes, happy that you don’t have to wear them anymore that day. dropping your bag on the floor you dragged your feet to the living room where jisung was laying on the couch, a fluffy blanket draped over his shoulders as some anime was playing quietly in the background. 

“hi,” you muttered, giving him a little peck on the forehead, and decided to grab some water from the fridge. “i thought you were supposed to go out with the boys tonight?” 

he sighed at your words, pausing the show. “i joined them for a while, but they invited their girlfriends and it felt too crowded after a while.” 

“did you at least have fun?” 

“i mean, yeah, we went to that new restaurant down the street. i have to take you there sometime, the food was amazing,” he responded with a small smile and you mirrored it. “i had to give up karaoke though.” 

you let out a little mhm, sitting down next to him and hugging him. for a moment it was silent between the two of you, you didn’t really know what to say more, you knew exactly how he felt after the night out.

“how about you? how was the dinner?” jisung broke the silence. 

“boring, tiring… do i have to say more?” you whined, taking a sip of your water. you put the bottle on the coffee table in front of you and without a word laid down, placing your head on jisung’s lap. “my boss was so annoying, he kept making those weird jokes about dogs. he was so drunk, you wouldn’t believe it,” you giggled as you recalled your memories from a few hours ago. he laughed at your words, trying to imagine your boss in that state and soon after the comfortable silence once again settled between you two. 

when jisung and you started dating you were afraid he’s gonna think you’re weird for being so tired after nights out. it’s not that you didn’t enjoy it, but social interactions simply exhausted you. as a kid your family used to make fun of you for wanting to leave any types of family parties, thinking that your weariness was a sign of disrespect. that’s why when jisung happened to not only understand you perfectly in that matter, but also feel the same, you were relieved. some might think it’s nothing, but you finally felt seen and validated.

“i’m so exhausted, sungie…” you yawned.

“i know, baby, i know,” he whispered, running his fingers through your hair. you closed your eyes, relishing in the quiet moment, glad that the day was almost over. “you can rest now, i got you.” 

“i love you,” you mumbled quietly, but he managed to catch that, smiling to himself before leaning over and placing a kiss on your temple. 

no more words were said as you melted into jisung’s lap. soon your soft snores and the anime on the tv were the only noises in the apartment as you recharged, feeling the most comfortable in each other’s presence. 

taglist ! @astraystayyh @laylasbunbunny @l3visbby @like-a-diamondinthesky @hanjsquokka @xichien @xocandyy @minhosbitterriver

[allywthsr]

LITTLE SPOON | (l.norris)

summary: Lando’s never been the little spoon before

wordcount: 1.3k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: none!

notes: it’s rather short, but I didn’t know what else to write

You’ve been dating Lando for a little over three months, in these months you‘ve tried to see Lando as often as possible, which was a bit tricky sometimes with his crazy schedule, but you still made it work.

Today wasn’t a day made for Lando, when he woke up this morning, it was raining and he noticed that he forgot to charge his phone and he didn’t have the time to charge it, his portable charger was also running low on battery, so he had to fly to England with only twelve percent. When he was at the MTC, he sat in the simulator and didn’t get the results he wanted, and Oscar was quicker in almost every sector. And in the cafeteria, they only had foods involved with fish, and the only thing that wasn’t near a fish, didn’t taste good. That almost ruined his day, the cherry on top was when he was on his way to you and stopped for a small grocery run, he got crowded by his fans outside, someone must’ve posted that he was in a Tesco in London. After taking pictures with almost everyone, he looked at his phone and saw about ten missed calls and at least twenty messages from you, asking where he was and if he could bring some extra apples. With a groan, he went back inside and prayed that no one else was waiting for him, and luckily there were only about ten people this time, he quickly said hello to everyone and hopped back into his car, which was also running low on fuel and he had to get gas, taking him even longer to be in your arms.

The last thing that almost made him cry, was when he went up the stairs to your apartment and with the heavy bags in his hands, he didn’t see a step and tripped, luckily he didn’t get seriously hurt, but the groceries were now all over the floor and his knee was hurting from the fall. After collecting it and putting it back into the bags, he had enough. Enough of this stupid day. He rang your doorbell and stomped passed you directly to the kitchen where he unloaded the food, with a surprised look you followed him.

“Hello to you too, my darling.”

“Sorry, bad day.”

And with that, he turned to you and fell into your arms, you caressed his back and kissed his neck and cheek repeatedly, wanting to comfort him.

“What happened?”

“It all started this morning with me forgetting to charge my phone, being shit in the simulator, bad food, and don’t get me started on the huge crowd that stood outside of Tesco, I also fell up your stairs.”

You immediately pouted and pushed him away to look at him, “My angel, is there anything I can do?”

“Make me food and cuddle”, Lando said after a while of thinking.

You nodded and kissed his lips with a smile, you knew he needed to be babied now, you sent him to the couch where he put on his favorite show, while you made dinner. You didn’t waste too much time preparing a fancy dinner, some pasta, and a sauce, but you knew that was his comfort food, your pasta.

Normally you sat down at the dinner table to eat, but you figured he needed his comfort show and the couch tonight, the day clearly wasn’t nice to your boy, so you could be to him.

With two plates in your hands, you made your way to him, he was lying on the couch with a small pout while checking his phone every now and then.

“I‘m finished with dinner, can you sit up so you can eat?”

He nodded and scooched a little to the right, so you could sit next to him and share the coffee table, you placed the plates on said table and sat down. You kissed his shoulder, “Enjoy your meal, Lan, after that, we can cuddle or whatever you’d like.”

“I‘d like that, thank you for making dinner, I wanted to help you.”

“Don’t worry, we all have bad days sometimes.”

You both started eating and silently watched the show Lando put on, you let him be in his head and think about the day he had. Lando and you quickly finished your meal and he immediately leaned back against the soft cushions, you knew he wouldn’t be doing anything today.

“Can I put the dishes in the dishwasher quickly or do we want to cuddle now?”

“If you hurry with the dishes?”

“Always.”

So you quickly put the dishes in the dishwasher and grabbed a kinder chocolate bar that you could give to Lando, maybe that would cheer him up a little, you always kept a small stack of these in case that Lando gets a sweet tooth and needed chocolate.

When Lando saw you coming back, he laid down and opened his arms, for you to lay in.

“Don’t you wanna be the small spoon today? I want to comfort you.”

“Nah, I‘ve never been the little spoon, I get comforted when I hold you in my arms.”

“You’re a walking cheeseball, aren’t you? I brought you a kinder chocolate bar.”

He quietly mumbled a ‘Thank you’ and already opened the package of the small chocolate before you could lie down.

You moved in front of him and he closed his arms around you and snuggled with his face in your neck, inhaling your scent he loved so much. Your hands found their way to his‘ and you caressed his knuckles and played with his long fingers, both of you were silent and enjoyed the peace that lingered in the living room. You knew Lando was exhausted so it was no wonder that he fell asleep pretty quickly.

You hated to wake him up, but you knew if he would sleep on the couch he would have back pain tomorrow, so you carefully turned around in his embrace and kissed his chin. Slowly caressing his cheeks and repeatedly kissing his face, everywhere where you could reach him. Slowly he opened his eyes and groaned, he needed his sleep and hated getting disturbed.

“Should we move this to the bedroom? You‘ll be more comfortable there.”

Lando nodded against your neck in which he had put his head after opening his eyes. You got up and pulled on his hand, he got up after looking at you with a pout and you walked into the bathroom where you two did your little night routine. When you went into the bedroom, Lando laid down on his side and opened his arms again, waiting for you to slip in.

“What if I‘m the big spoon tonight, you’re still not feeling too good, and it can be very comforting.“

“I don’t know Y/N, I‘ve never been the little spoon, I want to protect you and hold you close.”

“I‘m still close to you when I cuddle you, come on, let’s try it out, we can switch back if you don’t like it.”

“You won’t give up, will you?”

You shook your head and he scooched a little more to your side, you laid down and wrapped your arms around his body, caressing his tummy, you also slipped a leg between his. It felt good having him in your arms and cuddling like that.

After a few minutes you felt him moving, “And? What do you think?”

“It’s the best fucking thing ever, you’re never gonna be the little spoon ever again, only if you have a bad day, baby.”

taglist: @millinorrizz @jamieeboulos @loxbbg @noneofyourfbusinessworld @myownwritings

[railingsofsorrow]

Recharging. . .

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: spencer's best remedy is his little family.

pairing: s.reid x f!reader (+ eden reid!)

w.c: 3.8K

warnings/content: fluff; cuteness overload; children; spencer is a girl's dad; discussion of a case; mentions of death and traumatic events; this is basically a hurt/comfort blurb; mentions of pregnancy; mentions of marriage; crying.

A/N: is anybody in need of some fluff? this was supposed to be a short drabble.... enjoy this old WIP as I finish some of my requests.

loosely inspired by ocie elliott's take me home

want to read more works about this au?

→ day-off

━━━━━━━━━━━━

You stopped the low humming to the song as you eyed the rearview mirror to check on your kid. The familiar scratching against your seat warning you she was awake.

“Hey bub,” you take advantage of the red traffic light to dive your hand back and tickle her bare feet. She'd always kick off her shoes the first chance she got. Your favorite sound echoes through the car: her giggle. “You were just napping, where'd that energy come from?” you refer again to the tip of her feet bumping against your car seat. Another reminder that she was getting bigger every day.

Eden raised her arms, wriggling her little fingers like she did when she was excited for something. You were pretty sure she got that from Penelope, you always saw they do this whenever she came over to your place.

“We're visiting daddy!”

A laugh bubbles out of you. Eden left you amazed by her perception of things. Although the route from your apartment to the BAU wasn't that strange for her anymore, given that you and Spencer drove a lot to drop each other off with her in the car.

“Are we?” You turn on an avenue, humming. “I didn't notice.”

Eden looks at you through the rearview mirror, “but you're driving, mommy. You need the GPS. It's in your head.”

“Is it?” You're amused at your toddler's choice of words. “Okay. Yes, we're visiting daddy at work. We've come to pick him up because he's very tired from a case and it's not good to drive while you're tired, right?”

“Right!” She nods vehemently, craning her neck to check on the view through the window. “And he needs me to recharge his bats.”

You finish parking your car and a smile curls up the edges of your mouth. Eden can't say the word batteries so she shortened it to an easier version which is bats. You still have to teach her what the word actually means.

“That's right,” you say, taking off your seatbelt and opening the door. By the time you reach the backseat, Eden is grinning like the Cheshire cat. Her excitement never ceases to rub off on you, even though you enter this building most of the days in a week. “Hi, baby.” You cooed, welcoming your child in your arms after unbuckling her seatbelt. Her light brown curls that you have no idea who she got it from tickle the side of your face as she snuggles to your chest to stare at the tall FBI building.

“Shoes on. Coat on. All warmed up. Shall we go up?”

An eager Eden exclaims a loud YES and that's enough for you to start walking.

From “Spencer”:

[6:34 p.m] No need to pick me up, angel, I can drive. I am not that tired.

[6:35 p.m] Is Eden still at your mom's? I can pick her up on the way.

This is the mutual feeling you have on workdays. Not in a million years you'd understand how hard it was to be away from your daughter for more than one day. Until it happened.

It makes your heart break when you're not able to tuck her into bed or pick her up at school to see her excited little legs run towards you. In spite of the fact that Spencer and you manage well to alternate days at work so she always has one of you close by, it's difficult to not see her every day when a case takes either one of you out of the city.

You can only image how much he misses her after being away for four days.

You left the messages unanswered and click on another chat instead. Light of my life with a bunch of hearts is the one you're looking for. Penelope somehow stole your phone someday and changed her contact name to this; you never changed it back, just left as it was, it suits her anyway.

“Smile.” You request Eden as you lift your phone to take a selfie of the two of you. Her grin exposes her two missing front teeth. “Done.” You kiss her cheek and adjust her in your hold to type another text, waiting for the elevator to reach your desired floor.

To “Light of my life 💗❤️💕”

[6:38 p.m] incoming at five... four... three...

You hit send right as the elevator doors spread open.

Just as you step into the bullpen, it's as if a switch has flipped because your daughter promptly tucks her face into the croak of your neck, her cold nose making your shiver slightly. Her hands clinging onto your blouse.

Eden gets shy under watchful eyes, no matter how many times she visits the BAU.

Penelope is walking briskly out of her office, her hands wriggling into your direction as she catches sight of you and the bundle in your arms. Every eye in the bullpen turns to you because of the commotion.

You haven't seen your husband yet.

“There is pumpkin!” That's the reason that pulls Eden out of her shell. She practically throws herself out of your arms and into her favourite aunt's arms. “Oh, hello, hello, my beautiful niece, whom I have missed so much!”

Eden is giggling and you can't help but smile softly at the scene. Soon, your friends start approaching one by one. It doesn't take long for Eden to have at least two new toys in her hands. Emily and Derek are competing which one she likes best.

“She's so big.” JJ entwines her arm with yours.

You sigh, leaning closer to her, “Yes, she is.” You say, observing Eden play with Emily. “Henry as well! How is he by the way? We haven't had a playdate in so long.”

JJ nods, “He's great, my sweet boy.” Her eyes hold a fondness that you relate. “And that's true. We have to set up a date, catch up on things that aren't murders and blood.”

“Preach, Jayge.”

Your laughter dies down when the two people missing from the group appear. Your eyes met Spencer's and his whole body seems to relax as if it physically pained him to stand and seeing you just helped him take a breath of fresh air. Luke greeted you with a side hug and was immediately captured by Eden's endearing spell, as expected. Although, once Spencer entered her line of sight, no one else mattered.

Spencer let his satchel drop to the ground without a care so he could scoop Eden up as she jumped into his arms. His sullen demeanor converting into a cheerful one in a blink of an eye. This is what Eden means by “recharging”.

You watch the reunion with a growing smile, deciding to approach them a little later.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Spencer says while peppering kisses at her cheek, her little nose and her forehead. Eden could only reply with giggles as her whole face became red at the overwhelming love she's receiving. “Daddy missed you so much, did you know that?” And the crack in his voice goes unnoticed by her, but not by you, so you take advantage of everyone's distraction to step towards your little family.

Eden is giving her dad a butterfly kiss when you get to them. That's her way of saying I missed you to any of you when you come back home.

“Hey,” you squeeze his arm in a gentle touch, grabbing his attention. “Tough one?” your question is discreet, only meant for him. Eden is fortunately too busy with her new stuffed toy that Derek is showing her to notice anything else.

The dimmed spark in Spencer's eyes along with the red outline of his eyelids are everything you need to know. You don't need words — you never needed words to understand Spencer — but he provides you a meek yeah and swallows hard. The only thing that seems to be holding him back from crumbling down is the fact that he's holding his daughter.

In an attempt of comfort, you pull his free hand to yours, intertwining your fingers and giving it a tight squeeze. Just for him to know that you were there and it's okay now.

He repeats the action, the corner of his lips pulling slightly. His attention is quickly stolen back to Eden, who starts listing possible names to the new friends that uncle Derek and auntie Emily had gifted her.

They discuss the matter until you bid everyone goodbye, a playdate, a babysitting afternoon and a girls night out scheduled. Trying to take Eden from Spencer was foolish, he didn't want to let her go. No matter how tired he was. Better yet, she didn't want to let him go either.

“I think grapes would be a great name, E.” Spencer praises her daughter's naming skills as he buckled her up in the safety seat. “What about this one?” He grabs the green bunny and places it in front of his face, his voice in a high-pitched tone to imitate an animal's voice. “What will you name me after, miss Eden Reid? I am green and I like carrots!”

Eden's bright caramel eyes glint with joy and she pulls the bunny to her chest, holding it tightly. “I know what I'm going to call them.”

“You do?” You were starting to be curious as well.

“Mr. Greenie.”

“You're so clever.” Spencer and Eden shared accomplice smiles and you see everything of him in her at that single action. It was in the nose scrunch whenever she found something particularly funny, in the spark of mischief in her eyes and even the outline of her mouth which you never stopped noticing from the moment she was born. Eden carried a lot of mannerisms and features from you but those things? They definitely came from him.

He's not even halfway to the driver's side when you steal the keys that he had stolen from you when you were in the building. You've known each other for ten years, for three out of those ten you have been married and Spencer still thinks he can be slick with you.

“You're riding shotgun today, pretty boy.”

His eyes are filled with amusement as you walk by and give his butt a soft squeeze.

“Really?” He says, leaning on your window. You had already turned the engine on when you give him a serious look. “It's a long drive. You already drove all the way here.”

Giving him an eyeroll, you muse, “It's not that long, Spence. And you're tired. Just get in.”

Quantico wasn't far from your home, but ten minutes in the road was enough to send Eden to dreamland. You were certain she had fallen asleep when her humming to Angeleyes, that was playing on the car radio, stopped.

You suppose Spencer has fallen asleep as well, until you stole a glimpse at him during a red light to see he was just staring out the window. A far away gaze.

His mind was far. You could feel that. You two enjoy the silence but it's not like that. This is not the kind of silence you want to bask in after a tiring day of work. No, this is different. It comes with the type of things you face at work, the voices in your head that claim they know what's best.

You know that silence. You've drowned in it once.

A gentle breeze caused a few strands to slip out behind his ear. He was letting his hair grow longer again. You liked it, it suited him.

“Hey.”

Your knuckles grazed his cheek softly, tucking a piece of his hair behind his ear. Your hand lingered at the nape of his neck and he let out a sigh, leaning back in a way that you knew he needed that kind of touch.

Good thing your love language is physical touch.

“You want to talk to me about it?” A whisper.

Spencer refrained from a verbal answer, but he reached up for your hand, lifting it to his lips to place a prolonged kiss which translated to I'm glad to have you.

“Not now,” he said, caressing your palm. Definitely later then. Your communication can be non-verbal sometimes and that's one of the great parts of your relationship. You knew that some days words were hard, so the touch and the eyes fulfilled the void of a voice.

He gave it a delicate squeeze and that's when you realized the light had turned green, so your attention was back to driving.

At some point, you could feel a comforting weight at your right thigh. It was the familiar warmth of Spencer's hand, something that he liked to do whenever you drove. Good thing his love language is physical touch.

“I got her.” He practically leaped out of the vehicle once you parked, walking around the other side to get Eden.

Your asleep child didn't so much as flinch while being picked up. You caught her little arms embracing his neck as you locked the doors of your car, her shoes on your hand and Spencer's satchel on another. He tried to fight you on that but you just ignored him.

“Sleepy head,” you mouth to him as the elevator went up. Eden's big eyelashes fluttered lightly when you kissed the top of her head.

The corner of your husband's lips quirked up, “Just like her mother. Sleeps anywhere.” He said, not breaking eye contact, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Rolling your eyes, you hummed, “Don't know what you're talking about.”

The apartment was quiet, an unusual occurrence at this time of the day. Normally, Eden would be rambling about her day when one of you arrived from work — I learnt about seagulls today and we made a drawing; grandma made cookies!; Teacher Susan read a story about a princess saving her kingdom, I want to be like her someday. Isn't it like what you do, mama? I want to be like you — a range of subjects mixed with her occasional endless energy of a child. Some nights, she wouldn't stop running around until she tired herself — and both of you — off.

Today was different. She was asleep before you even arrived home, it was way before 8 p.m and the apartment was quiet, no toys scattered around, no ink stain on the floor. She was into painting nowadays which is a rather messy hobby for a kid, but you'd indulge your daughter's wishes anytime. She is a kid, she should be messy.

“I love you, bub.” Your ears pick up Spencer's faint voice from the entrance of Eden's bedroom. You perched up at the wall, careful enough to make yourself unknown. Not wanting to disturb the little father-daughter moment. “I'll always be here.”

That was something that didn't need to be said out loud because Spencer showed that every day. He didn't spare love demonstrations regarding you or Eden, he never had. Although you know part of the reason beneath that promise. Some people haunt us forever, even when they are no longer present in our lives. His father still walks somewhere in the corner of his mind, no matter how many times you tell him that he is not him.

“Is the whole bathroom drenched or...?”

Spencer chuckled, seeking for your hand to pull you closer as you stride to your bedroom.

“It wouldn't be Eden if she didn't make an entire spectacle during bath time.” He said. “But I cleaned it up, so don't worry.”

“That's true.” You eye his soaked shirt attempting to contain a smile. “Guess you already took your shower?”

“You're so funny,” Spencer murmurs dryly.

“Yeah, well,” you shrug nonchalantly, slowly encircling your arms around his neck. “Wasn't that why you married me? Or was it for my good looks? Nah, it was definitely my terrific sense of humour, wasn't it?” A peck on his lips. “You can admit it. I won't be mad.”

“Ego the size of a lake, that one.” He mumbles, burying his face in the croak of your neck and practically locked you in his hold.

You started to message on his shoulders to ease whatever felt heavy in his chest. At least, until he let you in.

It wasn't until after you both showered separately to finally call it a day and laid down to rest that he broke his silence.

“A little girl died. We couldn't get to her in time.”

Oh, kids.

Now it all made sense.

A shiver went down your spine at the thought.

“Oh, Spencer...” if the tone of your voice translated anything, it was that you understood. His body was entangled to yours when you tried to diminish a bit of his pain by showing that you were there. “I'm sorry, sweetheart,” you said into his curls. The moist sensation in your pajamas top let you know he was crying, but you didn't give it a second thought. It was what he needed.

“I could only think of her and I—” he said shakily, suddenly leaning away to cover his face. “Any rational thinking went down the drain.” His croaked out, drying his tears in the harshest way possible. You pulled his hands away from his face, replacing it with your softer touch.

“Spencer.”

“I can't even— even grasp my head around—”

You cut him off, “good. Don't do that. Because it's not real. Spencer,” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you so he could focus on something that wasn't the disruptives thoughts in his head. “Eden is here, in the room next to ours, safe and sound.” That seemed to calm him down lightly, but you could see the conflict in his gaze.

“I wasn't fast enough.”

“It was not your fault.”

“You weren't there.”

You sigh, “I don't need to physically be there to know that you, as well as the team, did your best to crack the case, Spencer. As you do in every other case we have.” The hardest part of this job was still the loss that you had to live with. The guilt. The shame that, despite doing your best, you wouldn't be able to save everyone. “As we always do.” Sometimes, you needed some convincing too.

“I know it's hard to believe what I'm saying,” you forehead was touching his and your eyes were shut. “but it's the truth. You have every reason to feel that way, it never gets easy to face what we face every day. But, Spencer. It was not your fault. You did what you could, please trust me on this, okay?” Please, don't blame yourself. You don't deserve it.

“Our little girl is right next door, sleeping with her favourite plushie. Safe. Because we make sure of that every single day.” You know it's not that simple, to not doubt the dangers that run in the world, probably in your street, but you can't live in fear and you don't want your daughter to live in fear either. “And I'm right here. we're not going anywhere.” You won't lose us.

“Yeah,” he croaks out, releasing a batted breath. “Yeah, I know.”

Slipping an arm around your middle to bring you closer was the indication you needed to understand that he was hearing your words. Your husband settled for accepting your warmth for the time being, you were playing with his curls, gently brushing them away from his face.

That's all he needed, really. You. The home and family you have build together. Nothing else.

“You know,” you say, thumb traveling across his jawline until it reached the tip of his nose. “People keep saying she has your nose and I think I'm starting to see it.”

His body shook with laughter, causing his eyes to crinkle slightly.

“Oh, really? You're starting to see it now?”

Your lips curled up at the edges, “Yes.” You lied, poking his ribs, earning a glare. Your smile only widened. “No. The nose is clearly yours.” He raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

Spencer leaned close enough so he could press his lips to yours.

“She has the outline of your mouth, though.” He tucked a strand behind your ear. “And your eyes.”

Soft padding against the floor pulled you out of your trance and you knew who was at the door before looking through the open space of the door that's been left ajar.

“Is that a ghost that I'm seeing, angel?”

You decided to enter Spencer's playful undertone.

“Mhm. Good question, I think that's definitely a squirrel or something. Look at the red and yellow paws.”

Eden's mismatched socks flashed your eyes in the dim light of your side table lamp. Her soft giggling made you smile instantly.

“What are you doing up, sweetheart?” She curled up to his bare chest as soon as he scooped her up to hold her on his hip. “Mhm?”

She grabbed both of his cheeks, forcing him to lean down so she could say something to him. You observed them with a curious gaze. “It's not a squirrel,” Eden whispered. Spencer's face broke out into a grin, “tell mama it's me.” Spencer nodded and dutifully did as asked.

“Oh!” You exclaimed, acting surprised. “It's you, bub? With these tiny socked feet, I almost didn't recognize.” Eden's shrieks as you pepper her whole face with kisses. “You want to sleep with mommy and daddy tonight?” It's your turn to whisper as if it's a secret, but it's loud enough for Spencer to hear it as well.

Eden nods shyly, resting her head on her dad's shoulder. Her feet wriggling lightly. Who could ever resist those sweet doe eyes?

The three of you then lay down in your bed, Eden engulfed between Spencer and you. Hopefully, she wouldn't kick and turn all night like she commonly did. She was sleeping through the entire night alone in her bedroom, though some nights — like today — she would sneak in to yours.

Just like you expected, the toddler fell into dreamland with your soft chatter about random things you did during the day and what you needed to do during the upcoming week. You cracked a smile at her slight parted lips and wild curls dispersed on your arm which her head was laid on.

“Thank you.”

Your attention drifts from a sleeping Eden to Spencer. His eyes carried their usual light again. They now glinted with a familiar pride rather than the heavy darkness it was drowning in earlier in the evening.

“What for?” Your whole demeanor softened at the way he was looking at you, heart swelling with love.

“This,” he says, eyes falling on Eden. “For this. Her. You.”

You blink, the sudden urge to cry is being hold back by a thread. You don't know how to react.

“You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.” And he's said that before. When you first confessed and he said he felt the same. In your wedding day. When Eden was born.

“And you are the best thing that's ever happened to me, Spencer.” You manage to whisper beneath the crack in your voice. He lifts his torso to kiss both of the single tears that slipped out of your eyelids, caressing your cheek lovingly. “I love you.”

“I love you too, angel.” His mouth stretches into a soft grin. “And I love the life we have built.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━

taglist: @lilyviolets

━━━━━━━━━━━━

A/N: will never forgive the show for not making this man a dad.

[coeurify]

ok but what do you think about making a sex tape with ellie 🧍‍♀️

an: this has been reworked over and over since this request came in in march… so enjoy! its very lovey dovey and sm plot sorry :3

warnings: 18+. filming. jackson!ellie. fingering and oral!r receiving. mostly lovey but some teasing and rough language :3 ellie is obsessed and lovesick and so is reader soooo they make a sex tape. unedited gimme time.

When Ellie first brought up the idea, you had recoiled into her old beat up couch, scoffing as she waved the old camcorder around, a shiteating grin on her face.

“I doubt that thing even works El,” you shrugged your shoulders under the blanket you had stolen off her bed. It wasn't unusual for you to hole up in her small homey garage while she was on patrol.. but what *was* odd was her little.. Souvenir from this particular trip.

“C’mon babe,” Ellie pouted, “Let me try on you..” she wiggled the little camcorder, slipping her hand into the attached grip, flipping open the small screen. Despite your complaints that there was no way it worked, Ellie just could never be wrong. Of course she knew you would fight back, and so she had made sure she fished some batteries too. Of course they came from Maria, the cost three days of stable duty.. But it was worth it for the immune woman, who ducked her nose down and watched the screen flicker to a slow start.

The quality was no better than that of what you could expect from a decades old camera, the film grainy and muffled, each corner covered by symbols Ellie didn’t really understand. But it was no roadblock in the trek of her wants. She smiled when your hands immediately came to slap over your face, voice serious behind your palms as you spoke, “put that down.”

Eventually however, you got a little used to Ellie’s newest fixation. The little hums she made were always a dead give away that she was filming you. During a video game tournament against Dina and Jesse, squished so closely to the two on the floor of the garage that you literally bruised the taller man during a particularly aggressive round of a fighting game. When you were trying your best to compete against your girlfriend’s art skills, tongue poking out the corner of your lips as you worked on a very detailed stick figure that dawned pointed down eyebrows, a large frown and red pencil hair. Even just when you were organizing Ellie’s closet for her, sorting through the tens of sweatshirts with a judging pout on your lips at the mess.

Each time you heard the distinctive sound of El’s attempt at holding back laughs, a small little choked up ‘hmm’ sound. You usually turned your head, quick to flip off your girlfriend-turned-filmmaker. But by the fifth time of catching her smiling behind the little object, you just let her. Whenever you could see her a little less tense, you took it.

Even if that meant starring in all of her little five second shitty clips. Her excuse always, “Just something to look at when I miss you.”

In some ways it made you feel weak legged, slightly lovesick by the thought of Ellie loving you so dearly she just had to steal little memories of you. Every small grin that broke onto freckled cheeks wherever she filmed coaxed you into the haze built up by her new hobby. You became so covered in adoration soon that you resorted to tiny only half mad eye roll when the click of the camera sounded.

Small clips turned into Ellie’s free hand wrapping around your bare waist as you looked in the mirror of her bathroom, the camcorder pressed near your cheek, the auburnette on the other side. You wiped the condensation from the glass, the room still slightly foggy from your shower. “You are not filming me out of the shower,” you huffed. Ellie didn’t answer, the familiar sounding hum stopped only when she pressed a kiss to the base of your neck, lips pulling up into a smile against the skin. “Won’t point too low..” she promised. “You just look so pretty..”

That time, the camera had been closed and discarded on a random bedside table as the two of you stumbled across her floor, giggling as Ellie cursed, stubbing her toe on the corner of the bed she tried to press you down into.

It continued like that, the limits of what you allowed Ellie to film seemed to blur further with every day.. Every curl of her fingers around the object that had become so central to this small haven of her home. Your own neck hot for reasons very different from embarrassment each time the filming light blinked a little too long. The line that you and Ellie had drawn in the sand of your mind was looking a lot less precise with every new memory saved into the device.

Even further along into the passing weeks, you had settled comfortably into yet another night spent at Ellie’s. Your own bedroom had remained untouched for nearly a week this time, bed spread likely just as cold as the air outside. But the garage was warm. The air inside thick as you pressed two fingers against your lips to keep a laugh from spilling out. Glasses of half empty wine, stolen from Tommy and Maria’s cupboard, balanced on the table that sat directly in front of the couch you were cuddled into.

The feeling of wine drunkenness always made you giggly, but your girlfriend parading around her small living space with her camcorder, well, that made you even more prone to bursts of laughs. She had gone from filming and rambling on about what wine you were drinking to zooming into your face, chuckling with breath that smelt like red wine. “See how pretty?” Ellie gaped to no one, stepping closer to you on the couch. The whole garage was painted a light orange from the setting sun outside, but it didn’t stop Ellie.

“El, you’re being a dork,” you chide, shaking your head as more compliments spilt from her. She shoos off the bitten remark with a sound that boarders on a coo, leaning over you as the lens of the camcorder sat close enough to pick up the smaller details of your face the grainy film usually could not.

“I’m just showin’ how perfect you are..” Ellie explains, a softer tone edging into her lungs as she presses her thumb to your cheek, drawing a new heat under the digit. “Perfect cheeks…” her finger traces over your jawline next, and then your chin. Each new landmark of your face that Ellie doted on swept closer and closer to your soft lips. You were no idiot, you saw how the green of her eyes fell to the fat, watched as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth and then out again. You made no move to stop what came next.

That next move was your girlfriend’s finger following like a moth to a flame to the one spot that teetered on that blurry line again, thumb pressing softly around the curve of your lips.

“Perfect lips,” Ellie continued, eyes flicking back and forth from the camera screen to you. Soon the pad of her finger is right against your bottom lip, and the room seems to slow.

The both of you hold bated breaths as you mull over your options. But this mulling is no longer than a few seconds, feeling overwriting the more logical side of your brain with a gushy type of tightness in your chest.

Your lips part, eyes meeting the lense as you suck the tip of Ellie’s thumb into your mouth. Lips wrap around the soft skin, salty and cold, and Ellie has little to say other than a slow and breathy, “Fuck..”

Your tongue peaks out just for a moment, lavishing over the wet skin, but Ellie is quick to pull away, leaving your shining lips parted in confusion. The camera falls to her side as her free fingers wrap around your wrist. Just like last time, the little red light twists away from your face. Ellie’s toes step backwards from that oh so mysterious line you two made.

“You know what you do to me, hm?” Ellie questioned as she hauled you up by your arm, a sharp giggle following as she stomped to the bed. The camera is discarded on the table near her pillows as you are thrown back on it.

“No,” you tease, your next giggle cut off by a thump noise that was Ellie pushing you back against grey sheets, you make a sound that almost sounds like “oof” as you try to readjust. Ellie clambers on top of your squirming frame as another sputtered laugh escapes at the messy, and not very seductive, way you two found contact against the creaking mattress.

“Tell me,” you prompt, meeting Ellie’s narrowed green eyes. “Why should I? You’re laughin’ at me.”

Your eyes roll as Ellie’s lips fall into a pout that you want to kiss clean off. “Stop being a baby,” you mutter before letting your impulse win, your hands cupping the freckles cheeks of your girlfriend and pulling her down for a soft kiss. Her pouted lips quickly shape to your own, and you sigh in approval as the hand not holding herself up traces down to your waist.

“I’m not a baby,” your girlfriend complains when your lips part from each other, and you nearly pinch her cheeks from just how lovely you find the whiny drawl in her voice, instead you just shrug, biting back another half bubbled up laugh, “mhm, prove it.”

Ellie does just that. One tug on your hips has you flatter against the bed, one poke at your side has a squeal leaving your mouth. You see how Ellie’s lips quirk up, but before you can admire the sight, she kisses you again.

“So,” Ellie punctuates the word with a kiss, the sort that makes a loud and annoying smacking noise, before trailing her lips to your cheek. “Fuckin” Ellie’s lips find home on your jawline next, and act that has a simmering heat grow between your legs. “Perfect.” Ellie finishes the repeat of what her fingers had done earlier by nudging your head back, lips pressing softer kisses to the flesh of your neck.

Your eyes flicked to the side table, pupils finding the little camcorder as the auburn haired girl bit at your neck, your attention pulled away as your eyes flutter closed at the feeling. “El,” you breathe out, a hand finding her messy hair, nails scraping at her scalp as she bit harsher at the column of your throat. You aren’t sure why her name had been your first thought to say after seeing the camcorder, swallowing as your fingers itched to reach toward the side table.

“Hm? Tell me,” Ellie taunts, words muffled as her next target becomes your collarbone. Your own words biting at you again as your eyebrows furrowed together, watching as your girlfriend’s fingertips find the edge of your shirt, pushing it up as your hand falls from her hair to help take it off.

You pull her back for another kiss before you can even think to answer her question, one you weren’t even sure you could explain. Ellie’s needy fingers come into contact with the fat of your tits, tweaking at the perked nipples, nails pressing in just a little too hard, earning a mewl directly against the spit slick kiss. As Ellie kissed you, you tried your best to focus on the feeling, and not how you were acutely aware of the camera beside you.

Her tongue swiped at your bottom lip, warm against your parting lips as she searched to deepen the kiss, messy sounds of half breaths and kissing all sounded through the small area, your hips rolling up as her knee slotted itself between your trembling thighs.

You can’t help but wonder what this may look like on camera, and as Ellie pulls back, you notice the green of her eyes had dimmed, pupils blown as the pretty eyelashes fanned lightly. The freckles splattered over the apples of her cheeks were particularly prominent tonight, and you suspected it had something to do with the blood that rushed there, rosy and all around causing that same lovesick feeling to creep up your weakened bones.

You wonder if she would look as pretty on that grainy screen too.

Before your mind can even form another thought, Ellie is pulling away from your lips, a small whine the response she received. You can’t complain for long as she moves down, wet lips trailing sloppy kisses to your soft stomach, planting the ember of a growing fire in your groin, causing your hand to flex. Your eyes are pulled by an invisible string to the side of you again, the black material of the camcorder your gaze’s target. Ellie grumbles in response, and a small pinch on your hip has you yelping.

“What’re you looking at? Look at me.”

“Ellie,” you try again, lip quivering nervously as she ushers you to lift your hips, tugging off the bottoms you wore. “Fuckkkk,” she drawls, lost in her own little world as a large hand presses your thighs open. “You see that?” she marvels, a finger pressing against the wet spot on your panties. When she presses, you can feel the fabric stick to you, nearing translucent as she teases, your lips hugging the now soaked panties. It has your hips stirring in their spot, the flame in your stomach burning your liquid feeling stomach. “Ellie,” you sigh again.

Finally her gaze looks up, “Yea?” she asks, her voice softening. You can see the flash of confusion, her hand falling from your thigh as she searched for any apprehension. “You ok?”

“I can’t—“ your voice comes out whinier than you would like to admit, harsh against your ears with a feeling of embarrassment. “Can’t say it,” you finish, eyes moving to the camera sitting on the small wooden table beside you for the umpteenth time.

Ellie follows your eyes, and when you look back to her, there’s a flash of surprise in the shade of green you loved so much. It was replaced quickly, her eyelids drooping as her chin tilted up. “Hm. Don’t know what you mean,” she shrugs, fingers going back to teasing your panty line.

Her tone is laced with sarcasm, the teasing tilt to it is a voice you had heard many times before, many times in this exact position. Ellie liked to make you say things, liked to watch you squirm. You were convinced at this point she got off on your embarrassment, and she probably wouldn’t even deny that.

“Gonna have to spell it out for me, babe,” Ellie added, dipping down to place soft kisses at your hip-bone, pink muscle licking over a mark there.

A low and annoyed sound escapes your throat, and your girlfriend chuckles against your flesh, one finger curling around the fabric of your panties, tugging it down a little ungracefully, your shaking thighs to thank for that.

“Barely even touched you yet and you’re shakin,” Ellie teases again, whispering softly, “Such a pretty pussy..” as the sight of your weepy folds meet her eyes. “This all for me, baby? Or somethin’ else on your mind?”

Your eyes squeeze shut again, hoping to rid your mind of the film reel like thoughts of the camera pressed in Ellie’s hand as she did this. They played over and over behind the black of your eyes, and another frustrated sound fills the garage.

“Not gonna answer?” Ellie was quieter now, repositioning herself, parting your thighs even more. A finger ghosted over your dripping cunt, a hum following the action. “Can’t make you feel better if you don’t use your words, y’know?”

The warm air hit your folds as Ellie exposed you more, thighs burning from the stretch, from the tight grip of one of her hands, fingers digging into and squeezing the fatty flesh.

The blanket beneath your bare ass is no comfort as you move around, and Ellie’s nose bumps against the softness of your thigh. So close, so fucking close to giving exactly what you were searching for, so close to your aching center that your resolve cracks lightly, head tilted back and against the pillow.

“The camera,” you croak, your mouth dry as your lips part, refusing to look at the other girl.

“What about the camera? Look at me and tell me what you want.”

The crease between your eyebrows likely was gaining small droplets of sweat just from how hard you were attempting to avoid this entire fucking conversation, but Ellie kept pressing you further, and who were you to deny her?

“Wanna film this,” you eventually admit, head dipping down to meet her darkened eyes.

“Yea baby? Wanna see what a mess I can make you?” Ellie’s words start to blur together, the idea surely muddling any coherent thoughts together in her mind, licking her lips as she awaits your response.

“Fuck— mmph, yes El. Please.*”

Ellie’s lips curl into a smile that’s more wicked than loving, “Red button starts it, you can hold it.” She instructed, and you scramble to reach your arm out, grasping at the little hand strap connected to the camcorder.

“There you go babe,” she nods, “give it a go, let me see what you’ve got.”

Your fingers are shaking so badly it takes a moment for your thumb to hit the button, to see the soft little red light noting the start of the film.

The grainy screen doesn’t pick up on all the freckles adorning Ellie’s face. The ones that made you feel all gooey, that you wanted to kiss until her face was a pretty shade of red. But it did capture her parted lips, the expanse of your thighs, and your shaky grip tilted the camera down as Ellie’s head dipped between your thighs.

Her mouth latched to your achy cunt, tongue licking up the drops of arousal that covered your slit, pearling on the petal like lips that she spreads with her fingers.

Your arms almost immediately gave out.

Clearly, you were not as skilled in the art of film making as Ellie had been, the camera dropping almost completely to your tummy as Ellie sucked at your cunt. Her eyes flicked up, and she unlatched from the saccharine slick that pooled on her tongue.

“You keep that camera steady,” she muttered, thumb rubbing tiny, tight circles on your throbbing clit. “Or I stop, yea?”

You nod quickly, hips grinding into the slow and steady motion of her thumb, wet with your sticky . You would have agreed to anything she demanded of you right now anyway. Too needy, too desperate to feel her lips on you again.

“ ‘M counting on you to make a pretty movie for me.”

The sentence tapers off as she disappears to the space between your thighs again, and you nearly and truly sob as her nose bumps your clit, her tongue poking experimentally against your hole, feeling as it clenches against nothing.

You know your whimpers and quick little puffs of air are being picked up by the camera, but you’re too focused on keeping the lense directly focused on the auburn tendrils of hair, on where her face was covered by your thighs caging her cheeks in, keeping her in the place she most needed to be, drinking down every single single drop you gave her.

“Ellie,” you whine, toes curling when she presses away from your clit, two long fingers coming to part your folds, admiring the sticky sight.

“Shhh,” Ellie coos, eyes glancing up at the camera again, the burning sight of her fern colored gaze through the tiny screen has your stomach clenching even harsher, hands trembling lightly.

The air on your exposed center lasts no longer than a few seconds, Ellie’s head dipping down as the warm, wet feeling of a glob of her spit trails down your clit, finding your pulsing hole. Her tongue swipes it quickly after, suckling gently at the shiny bubbles. The sound that follows, the loud wet squelch of your wetness mixing with her spit is enough to make you want to cover the speaker of the camcorder, fingers gripping tightly at the little contraption. She focuses on licking at your sopping cunt, her head moving slightly, moaning against your folds.

“Oh—nnh—El!” you cry, your chin trembling in tandem with the hand you try desperately to keep still. Your hips rut up, and Ellie’s face moves up with you, an arm detaching from its place on your squishy thigh to instead wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. Impossibly closer.

You can feel yourself closer, closer to that delicious peak, Ellie’s nose bumping your clit, tongue working mind numbing ministrations on you.

Then she pulls back.

“Fuckin made for me,” Ellie groans, taking a deep breath as she unlatched from your pussy, her fingers sweeping through your puffy lips. “Was fuckin’ made to let me taste you.” Her eyes flick to the camera, her tone louder than usual— a little less breathy. She wanted the microphone to hear.

You cry pathetically at the loss of her tongue, lip quivering.

“Tell me,” she demands, voice overpowering the slick noises of her now shiny fingers rubbing between your folds, the tips pausing at your pulsing hole, dipping only a little in, teasing. “Tell me this pretty pussy was made for me.”

And then Ellie is reaching forward, letting go of her grip on your hips to grab harshly at the camera, maneuvering it to show your trembling body, her fingers pressing open your lips, giving the camera a pretty close up of your soaked cunt. She croons at the sight, her fingers pressing together to land a short and sharp slap against the swollen lips. “S’pretty.”

“Ellie,” you choke, chest heaving up and down as the embarrassment creeps up, making that coil in your tummy even tighter.

“Tell me,” she says again, smoothly.

Desperate to have her fingers opening you up, to have her filling you and breaking that tightly wrapped tension in your groin, you break.

“I’m yours el. ‘m all yours, was made for you,” your voice is restrained, quiet as you chew at your lips, stirring in your spot as she continues the teasing.

“What else? Tell me more, baby,” she insists, one long finger sinking into you, hissing at the feeling of your cunt molding to her, perfect for her as you clench.

“A—ah!” your voice is a sweet little cry. You grind down into the feeling, searching for more. “It’s yours El,” you babble— louder now, head thrown back. Ellie captured the moment with a quick tilt up of the camera. “M-my pussy s’all yours.”

“Fuck,” Ellie breathes, her own, usually steady camera hand, wavering as you speak. She grants you with another finger as she thrusts harshly into you, a shriek pulled from your open mouth.

“So—s-so fucking perfect,” she grunts, curling her fingers gently, hitting that squishy spot in your walls that has you keening, eyes rolling back. “Love this pussy so much, shit—shit, love you so much.”

“Love you too El,” you blubber, your chin tilting down to stare directly at the camera for a second. That awkwardness, the fear from the early days of when she’d film you completely gone as you moan pathetically, eyes shiny with complete and utter adoration.

She only pistons her fingers into you harder, faster, relishing in how you moan, how your toes curl and your chin wobbles. You’re the prettiest fucking thing she’s ever seen.

The camera points down to where she’s thrusting into you, watching through the screen as you meet her thrusts, your hips moving against the grey sheets, your thighs squeezing her hand in between them as you sob out.

Ellie meets your eyes, stealing your attention from the camera she keeps focused on your squirming frame, pounding her fingers into your cunt. “Cum for me, you can do it baby, go on. Give me a pretty show.”

And you do. Your sweaty back lifts off the bed with a sharp sob as the cord in your tummy snaps, gushing around Ellie’s fingers, pulsing around her as she thrusts shallowly, riding you through it.

Your vision goes black for a second as you heave, hands shaking as you reach out for Ellie, fingers looking to curl around her warm skin.

You don’t even notice the off click of the camera, of how she lets it softly drop to the side as she climbs up your shaky form, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.

“So pretty,” Ellie hums, “Prettiest movie star ever,” she mumbled, and you pour your lips— getting another soft kiss as she continues to plant tiny loving pecks around your face.

“Never should’ve let you keep that camera,” you whisper gently, smiling right when she does against the corner of your mouth that she pecks at.

“Yea fuckin’ right, we just made the movie of the year babe.”

[joelhoney]

#1 girl

pairing: dbf joel miller x afab/sorority sister reader

kenny here... tumblr Blipped me u guys. but i loved this too much to let it waste into nothingness. so here we go again take two using an ancient blog i never even used (from 2016 mind u...) enjoy!

You're too wrapped up in sorority duties to remember somebody's supposed to pick you up and drive you home tonight. One pissed-off Joel, curious conversation, and cowboy hat later, your evening takes an unexpected turn.

warnings: no outbreak au, dbf!joel, self gratuitous age gap (21/51), shy reader w/ some bursts of confidence, blowjob (m receiving), handjob (f receiving), dirty talk, praise, degradation too..., overuse of pet names... must b all

Of all the ways you imagined spending your fifth day of spring break, the last was in your dad’s best friend’s pickup truck with lame rock playing dryly through the console radio. In fact, last is generous—the idea itself had never even been conjured in your head.

The reason why is because you and your dad’s best friend—Mr. Miller—don’t typically interact beyond the confines of dinners, mandatory laughter, and the occasional one-on-one about something like boys in college, or classes in college, or the drive to college. Nothing much had changed when you moved the brief drive away to UT Austin, and between you everything’s remained the same, even now in your senior year.

For instance, a break—summer, spring, winter—would begin with your parents picking you up and shuttling off to the house, and end with an affair of the similar sort. Quickly into your first year, though, you learned to always insist you either leave school late or leave home early for spring break to take advantage of campus parties, especially because your senior year had cemented your shiny new position as President of Alpha Phi.

Any officer position in a sorority already came with a good deal of responsibility, let alone the presidency; and in addition to having recently turned twenty-one, the role required you to exhaust every drop of social battery, every ounce of skill you had at party hosting and alcohol obtaining without the use of a flimsy fake.

The eliminated nerves of using fakes made you much less nervous during parties, which often led to you letting more loose than usual. This party you’re in was thrown by some frat on campus, but this house is your last place of four; first two pregames, then a bar, then here. At some point at the bar your sisters had surprised you with a fun gift for the night, so you’re also wearing a pink sash, onto which rhinestones spelling out #1 Girl have been glued with precision.

Already you’re dizzy, wiping clammy fingers on the stiff cotton of your tight tank top, the curve of your tits spilling over the Alpha Phi logo. It’s small on you, the hem high above your navel and higher above the loose, low hem of your denim shorts. If they fell low enough on your hips, the high arch of your pink thong would’ve shown itself—maybe it did at some point, you’re too loopy to care.

“Oh, no,” you’re saying, but you can barely hear yourself over the rap song playing and everyone singing along, “no, I hate Jäger.” You’re shaking your head at your best friend and Vice President, Lia, who raises two handfuls of the opaque liquid. She shakes her head, sets them down on the table you’re leaning against.

“Lighten up, duuude. We’re taking them to celebrate your first and last spring break as President.”

“Aw, fine,” you muse loudly, giving in. “Only this once.” Out of obligation and genuine gratitude, you allow yourself to stomach your least favorite drink—then another, and another, a bit of each shot dribbling down the column of your throat and stickily onto your chest.

Lia snaps at the red bra strap that peeks out of your tank strap, laughing. “Settle down, Prez.” A partygoer, rowdy as they come, roughly deposits a sweaty cowboy hat onto your head and you yelp in surprise, steadying it. Whoever gave this, I’m keeping it! you holler, laughing as you feed yourself a shot of something your tongue enjoys more.

Absolut crowds the inside of your mouth when you take it back, interrupted only when a hand comes to shake at your shoulder. In your rush to turn, you nearly hit them with your hat.

It’s Cole, a good friend and member of the frat whose house you’re currently getting tipsy in. His eyes are rimmed and the whole air of him smells like weed. He offers one greeting: “Yo.” His eyes slide down to your chest, where your tugged-down tank has exposed a few inches of your red bra’s lacy cups.

“Hey,” you say, the syllable sounding sticky. “Up here, you ass. Jägerbomb?” You offer a smile.

“‘M a’ight. Listen, some…” He shakes his head, like he’s trying to place what he’s here to tell you. Then he nods, having remembered—“Right. Some old guy’s out front asking for you.”

“Asking for me? Old… guy?” Your eyebrows scrunch together, mind foggy. “My dad?” Shit. You’d completely forgotten they’d be picking you up today or tomorrow. Maybe they’d been waiting for hours—it’s one-thirty, the clock on the living room mantel reads. 

“Nah, man, not your dad, this guy’s… he’s got a red pickup truck, um, he’s, like, he’s old looking.” He raises a hand above his own head. “Tall.” His voice is drawly with the weed high, but as soon as he said red pickup, you knew exactly who he was talking about. One look at your phone confirms it—five missed calls and a message, 11PM, sent by your dad: Joel’s in the area for work. He’s going out with buddies but can swing by the house to pick you up. I’m giving him your #.

“Fuck.” You blink. “Fuck! I gotta go.” 

You never usually have to pack shit to go home, considering the drive isn’t too far. Briefly you consider making a detour to collect things from your sorority house, but you decide to sacrifice the laptop and the few important chargers. So, armed with only your phone, you wrench your way out of the crowd, a few goodbyes thrown in your direction and back.

The front door is open so the partygoers spill onto the front yard, intermittent conversation littering the area. Along the pavement, frat guys’ Civics and and Priuses are parked beside an old looking red pickup truck; leaned against it is—

“Mr. Miller,” you blurt out when you’re closer to him, voice steady (your mind is just as well, shocked back to lucidity from his presence). “I’m sorry. I had no idea you’d be picking me up today—tonight—” You heave a sigh, apologetic, refusing to meet his eyes. “Sorry.”

His arms are crossed over his chest, the sleeves of his button-up rolled up to his elbows. Even from a few feet away you can make out the shape, the lines of muscle on his forearms. He looks tired, moody—more than usual—and your heart pangs with guilt at the idea that you could be the reason behind it. But despite your best—really, your best—efforts, your stomach still swoops the same way it did when you were seventeen and naive, enough to find next-door-neighbor Mr. Miller extremely handsome. Hell, extremely hot.

It didn’t make sense. You’d suspected your little crush would be that—an adolescent, childish thing, evaporating more and more into thin air with every drive made to campus. But he never stopped being handsome, never stopped his corny jokes and the pet names that got you warm every time you visited over break. You had plenty of eye candy on campus, athletes and gamers alike, and yes you’d been picky, but had managed to sleep with a select few—despite all of it, only the remnants of your fantasies of Mr. Miller satiated you when your hand creeps into the apex of your thighs late at night, lust wrangling shame into silence for a few minutes.

You blink and the train of thought is over—the real thing is here, eyebrows set low, mouth frowning.

“Kiddo,” he starts, his voice thin with exhaustion, “look, I’ve done my share of… drinkin’, and that. I get it. But you gotta…” He clicks his tongue, eyes looking your outfit up and down. “You gotta let me know, let your parents know, where you are, and if you’re okay. ‘Cause I really did not want to spend tonight drivin’ from house to bar, to bar to house, feelin’ like I was lookin’ all over Austin for you.”

“I know,” you supply quickly, nodding. Your hands, fidgety, find purchase on the fibres of the silk sash strung along your figure. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Miller. I didn’t check my phone the entire evening, and—”

“It’s okay.” He says, nonchalant, lifting himself off the side of the car to walk to the drivers’ side. Gruffly, he adds, “Car.”

You’re quick to tug the door open, settling yourself on the passenger seat and breathing nervously. Your legs are littered with body glitter, your chest with the tack of Jäger. You spot him outside, his walk slow. He’s annoyed—rightfully so—stopping just shy of the door to pinch at the bridge of his nose, his lips miming a slow exhale. When he finally wrangles himself to sit, it’s quiet for a minute, then another.

“Y’have fun?” He starts the car, thrumming it to life. You nod, then offer a verbal answer—yeah. He nods, wiping a palm over his face. “What were you up to?” 

“I, um… I organized a pregame for my sorority.” You toy with the rogue strands of denim of your shorts. “We went to a bar, after… then another… then, well.” You gulp. “Here.” The last question escapes you in a shaky, breathy squeak. “And you?”

“Hah, sure, kid. Had some contractor thing, half an hour from here. Then drinks with a coupl’a buddies from work. Could’ve been home by eleven-thirty,” he says roughly, driving through the still-vibrant streets of campus, “but it’s nearin’ two and I’m on a college campus.” The urge to apologize bubbles at your lips, high in your stomach, but you remain quiet. After a few stretches of dry silence, he asks again. “That party must’ve been real fun for you to leave your old man—and me—on radio silence, wun’nit?”

“Sure,” you manage, stammering. “We were celebrating my sorority presidency.” The dark scenery of Austin blurs past. 

“Oh, sorority presidency,” he repeats, both teasing and genuinely curious. “I did hear your dad mention you were in Alpha Phi, s’that right?” You nod. “What’s that, then? Do presidents get cowboy hats?”

Your face grows hot, hands reaching up to clutch at the rim of the hat atop your head. “No, this—somebody put it—it was a joke, Mr. Miller.” A huffy laugh escapes you. “Sorry.”

“Sweetheart,” he says, and you wrench the reminder he’s 51 he’s 51 he’s 51 through your head while he pauses, “‘m drivin’ you around Austin late at night, and I’ve known you for your whole life. How ‘bout we drop the Mr. Miller act, alright?”

“Oh. Okay,” you say. His hands grip the steering wheel firmly, and your eyes wander to his arms, to how he’s basically stuffed into the shirt he’s wearing, big and broad and bulky. His eyes remain focused ahead, so you let yourself indulge a tad bit more—lower, to the material of his jeans. It’s dark in the truck, so you can’t see much, just the flex of his thighs. “Joel.”

“Attagirl.” You chew at the inside of your cheek, already feeling arousal simmering in you, low and dirty. You’re going to soak through this godforsaken thong. “Mind if I make a pit stop?” You shake your head profusely, watch as he pulls into a gas station parking lot. “Want anythin’, girl?”

“N—” your lips form, but you scrap your original answer. “Gum, if they have it.”

“Be damned if they don’t.” He slams the door shut and you watch him enter the store, watch him through the glass panels. He’s so broad. You’d nearly completely forgotten how stupidly you liked him, and now it’s coming, throttling back full-force, especially with the thrilling aspect of it possibly coming to fruition. You are, after all, an adult. And so is he, paying for his shit with a tight-lipped expression, arms crossed again, arms big and—Jesus.

You squeeze your thighs together, willing yourself to get your shit in place when he pulls the door open again, his eyes scanning your seated figure. He tosses you the packet of gum, and you respond with a sweet thank you, Mr. M—Joel, and you fiddle with the packaging as he starts the car again, driving until scenery grows more and more familiar, closer to home.

“By the way,” he says, voice husky with the unuse of not talking for a while. “Think it’s best you spend the night at my house tonight, kid. It’s late. Later than late.” 2:44, the console digital clock reads in blinky red text. “Your parents don't want the door rattlin’ open at this hour, so I’ll let you in the guest room.”

“Oh,” you say. “Sure.”

“D’you have a change of clothes?” He asks, even if he knows you climbed into the seat with nothing but your phone and a cowboy hat. You shake your head and he tsks. “You’re barely covered, sweetheart. Best be careful walkin’ around when the night’s this chilly.”

Barely covered. You think of every possible response, but what leaves your glossed lips is the riskiest: “What do you mean, barely covered?”

You figure if he starts saying shit like what are you insinuatin’, kiddo? You better sleep at yours tonight instead, it’s an easy out—you’re turning the corner onto your street now, and your stomach is boiling with nerves, sticky and anticipatory. “I jus’ mean… it shows a lotta skin.” 

“It’s sorority merch, Joel,” you reply, half-amused and half-defensive.

“No, I”—he sighs, like he wants to backtrack what he’s just said—“I know, but… always worth somethin’ to be careful. Might catch a cold with all that leg… all that—you—showin’.” He parks in front of his house, this sizey, homey thing, and your heart flips knowing how familiar this place has been to you your entire life.

“I’m not going to wear winter gear to a spring break frat party.” You’re bolder, suddenly, but even if the statement is, your voice is level, meek, even. Joel nods, as if admitting defeat, and gets out of the car first; you follow, sneakers crunching against the asphalt as you follow him into the house.

“I hope,” he starts when you’re stationed beside him at the door, “I didn’t… offend you. I was jus’ concerned, is all.” Then he’s stoic again, slipping inside, straight to the kitchen to pour you a glass of water. He flicks a yellow light on and you squint when you get there, rubbing at your eyes to prevent them from aching.

You’re still rubbing at them when his gaze drops from your fussed-up hair and askew hat down to the shiny surface of your chest. Your goddamn top leaves him nothing to the imagination, your tits spilling out of it scandalously. The low cut even lets your bra peek through, red and bright and hey, you show up from college wearing these large university shirts and sweatpants—not this, never this. And your shorts, the way they’re really just a fucking belt, starting low on your hips and cut off high above your thighs.

Alpha Phi, the pink text on your white top reads on the left chest area. Right where your tits curve into the top, the slogan is printed: Union hand in hand. God, sororities and their fucking… quotable bullshit. And don’t get him started on the sash, this cutesy, frilly thing he wants to loop around your wrists so he can fuck you over the counter. He knows he can’t—it’s so wrong, so wrong. He’s known your dad for ages. 

But you… you're so tempting, a little minx, chirping Mr. Miller all sweet and apologetic, chest out on full display. He blinks when he hears your voice filter through the fog in his head. “—off?”

“What was that, sweetheart?” His eyes meet yours again and he feels a twinge of embarrassment at the way your bashfulness has somewhat melted to give way to the clear amusement on your face. You must’ve spotted the way he ogled you; he wasn’t exactly trying his hardest to be subtle, unfortunately. 

“D’you have something I can use to wipe myself off?” You gesture to your sticky collarbone area. “I got Jäger all over myself. Can’t handle the stuff.” You grimace at the memory, and he goes to grab a wet wipe; while waiting, you hoist yourself up onto the counter, bare legs swinging.

Joel turns to toss you the packet of wipes, but his throat dries before he can even call your name out. Your back is to him, and clearly you’re waiting for his return—you’ve busied yourself by sitting on his counter and letting the hot pink lace of your thong rise above the waistline of your shorts. Lord have mercy, he thinks to himself, adjusting his jeans as he walks back over to you.

“Wipes,” he says roughly, not anything else.

You accept the packet and smile shyly. “Can you…” you pause, the implication hovering over both of you, heavy. “Wait for me?” He nods, inviting. Warm. And he watches, inviting but not very warm anymore, the way you wipe over the expanse of your chest, over the curve of your tits, every other part of you dusted in glitter.

“So,” you say again. “Since we’re on first name basis now, Joel, I, um—I hope it’s okay to ask questions.”

“Sounds reasonable. Go for it,” he accepts. 

“When’s the last time you went to a party?” Your smile is mischievous. 

He chuckles, a huff of air. “...Long, long ago, kid. Back in my day, partyin’ meant beer, maybe a little weed… not that I'm complaining there, you understand.” He nods resolutely. “These days, a quiet home-cooked meal with just the people I really care about… is a party.”

“Wow, what an old guy answer,” you giggle. “Back in youuuur day.” Your raspy, honeyed voice wraps around the your with a teasing lilt.

“Oh, I’m old now, am I?” His stoic demeanor chips away when he laughs. “That makes you what, sweetheart? You’re barely a pup.”

At his words—at the utterance of pup—you roll your eyes and try to shift your seating so your thong doesn’t stick to your folds. “Okay, fine, next.” You’re not even wiping anymore, the material wrung into your fingers, which lay in a fist by your side. “When’s the last time you got shitfaced?”

He gives a grimace of a smile. “Aw… boy, it's been a while.” He comes closer, going from leaning on the opposite drawers to right beside you on the counter. You’re sitting and he’s leaning but still he’s taller, just a bit level. “But there was that one time back in my more adventurous days, when I was younger. A bachelor party wh… well, the details don't really bear talkin’ ‘bout in polite conversation.” He raises his eyebrows. “Why ya askin’ all this? What’s will all the last times?”

“I’m curious, is all.” You smile, leaning back; if his eyes drop just a bit, he’ll see right through your top, maybe even underneath the cup of your bra. “Okay, fine one last… last time.” You giggle, breathy. “When’s the last time you… had sex?”

The air shifts, and Joel clears his throat before chuckling. “S’none of your business, young lady. A gentleman is not raised to kiss and tell.”

“Oh, but he gets shitfaced n’ tells?” You test, pouting and leaning closer toward him so you can quiet your voice. “Come on. I won’t tell anyone I even asked.”

He sighs, contemplating. “Well… it’s been a while.” He gets his fair share of lays, when he goes out to bars with friends or the rare date, but nothing too drastic. It has been a few months. “But you didn’t hear that from me, understood? Now, let’s drop it.”

But you don’t drop it, you brat. “You’re like the born again 40-year-old virgin,” you tease smoothly.

“Try 51, honey,” he grunts out, depositing your dry wipes at the disposal across you. He turns back around, restrained. 

“And what, you don’t wanna change that?” No, he thinks—what he wants is to take you over the counter ’til you’re sobbing and sore.

“Hey now, don’t think I don’t think about it sometimes. But I jus’—I don't wanna get involved with no one, even though... Hell, if I met the right person, I might just change my mind. Ain’t that the way it goes?”

“That’s such an antiquated view of sex,” you quip boldly, pressing your arms to your sides. “What happened to just having one good fuck?”

His eyes flicker down then up. “Well, hey. Slow down with the cursin’, sweetheart. And what in the hell makes you think I don’t do that?” He crosses his arms, offering a raised eyebrow and an insufferably smug smile.

“You didn’t necessarily object when I called you a twice-over virgin.”

He chuckles. “There’s more than one way to let it all out, my girl. You don’t have to just go all in to hit the spot.” The thought of him using his own—or some girl’s, actually, hand, throat… to get off, gets you all hot. You want to be that girl. His girl.

“Like how?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.

“Old man like myself probably can’t offer tricks you’ll find… useful.” He grunts, prepares to go upstairs. He reaches over you for the packet of wipes and your proximity urges him to stop, savor the closeness before the rational part of him reminds him you’re his best mate’s daughter.

“Okay, fine,” you say sweetly, voice much quieter—reserved just for the space between you two. “One last, then.”

Mmm, he huffs affirmatively, greenlighting your request. Impatient.

“Since when did old men do that?” You ask, inquisitive, placing emphasis on his self-proclaimed old man title.

“What? Entertain l’il minxes like yourself?” He responds, intending to break your newly-built façade of smugness.

“No,” you respond coolly. “Pack nine inches.” Then you’re clambering off the counter and walking to the stairs. He inhales sharply at the sudden vulgarity of your words, watches every move, every little bounce of your pert ass under the tiny shorts, the wave of your hair, every flex of the ridden-up lace thong against your back.

You turn briefly. “Coming or what?” And then you slip upstairs.

He hears the pad of your footsteps grow quiet and shuts his eyes, letting his composure waver in your absence.

Had he known Harold’s little girl would turn out to be the world’s biggest fucking tease—Jesus Christ. “Lord,” he rasps under his breath, repeating a mantra, holding back the urge to palm himself through his jeans. “Lord, have mercy.” Then he follows you, already spotting something different—the open door at the end of the hall.

His open door. It’s the one that directly mirrors your parents’, a revelation they all had a good laugh at. Sometimes if a matter was so pressing, a well-aimed pebble to the glass window would get Joel’s attention well enough. The lights are flicked on, cool-warm, in his bedroom. You’re in his bedroom. 

Or you’re not. He walks in to find no trace of you, save for the scuffed white sneakers by the doorframe. He toes off his own boots and spots the walk-in closet light’s also been flicked on. 

“Christ, you’re quick. You’re s’posed to be in the guest room.” He gestures vaguely to the one on the left side of the hall, even if you can’t see him.

“I had to pee. And I needed something to sleep in,” you say politely from inside. He grunts softly to himself at the thought of you undressing in there, the thought of you pulling on something of his. 

“Get out of there,” he orders. “I’ll get you somethin’.” Under his breath he mutters, “S’my goddamn closet.”

You chirp okay but he adds anyway: “Hurry, out.”

So you do follow him, even follow the order to hurry, because you’re hasty in your exit, clutching the cowboy hat to your chest. “Sit.” He points to the bed, watches you set the hat next to yourself gingerly. And one last time he asks the Lord for mercy, quietly and in his head, before shutting off every other rational thought that had stopped him tonight. 

You follow suit, hat still clutched to your torso, and he slowly comes to stand just in front of you, your face level with the buckle of his leather belt. When you shift he catches sight of the side of your bra, the lace of it. Eyes cast to your bare thighs, you pipe up.

“By the way, Mr. Miller—Joel, I didn’t mean to say any of—I mean, I thought we could talk comfortably about it… that… stuff, but I took it too f—” 

“You’re damn fuckin’ right you took it too far.”

He spits it out roughly, harshly. Like he’s scolding you. A zip of shock goes through you—you hadn’t heard him swear so loud before. Maybe he is. “I give you a free ride home at half past one, give you water, give you a place to sleep for the night knowin’ damn well your momma n’ dad would both have killed ya if you stepped foot in that house wearin’ next to nothing. What do I get in return?” He looks down at you, two rough fingers jerking your chin to look up at him.

“I—” you squeak, your voice and confidence betraying you. You’ve soaked through your panties at his sudden switch in behavior. Like you’d broken a dam.

“I get a brat… whorin’ herself out to me like I’m not over twice her age.” He tuts, like he really is disappointed, and your heart almost drops. “I get all these damn questions about sex, like you think I’ll break and fuck you on my kitchen counter.” He was considering it. “All the teasin’, all the skirtin’ around in a thong and a fuckin’…” He shakes your chin. “S’there even anythin’ in that head of yours, honey?”

Your mouth’d been open. You shut it and lick over your lips. “Yeah,” you defend weakly. His hand lowers to stroke at the column of your throat, then to hook under the tight strap of your bra, peeking out under the white of your top. He sidles it back and forth.

“S’this why you asked me all those dumb questions downstairs, huh, sweetheart? ‘Cause you wanted me to pull your top open and fawn over this”—he yanks the hat away, revealing your torso underneath—“little show o’yours?” Your cleavage is sinful, downright—perfect, perky, inviting him to mouth at your tits. Your sash sits prettily above them and he can’t help but pull at it, too, jolting you toward him. 

“N—” you inhale sharply, letting him pull and push you around as he pleases. He observes the blinding glittery writing on the pink material and lets out a humorless, self-satisfied huff of laughter.

“Number… one… girl.” His rough thumb grazes over the divots of the rhinestones. “That’s jus’ about right, ain’t it?”

“Yes,” you reply, voice small. 

“I’m not sure I agree, baby girl,” he drawls. His touch is precise—he knows exactly where to go, what he’s doing—but rough, dirty, almost, and the huge size of his hands don’t help to support otherwise. He tugs down your tank top so it’s tucked underneath your bra, and you yelp, making a move to cover yourself. He laughs again—“Sure, go all shy on me like you haven’t been showin’ yourself off to me all night. Knees.”

You get off quick, so quick you’re dizzy when you steady yourself on two knees. Two lithe hands make their way to his belt but he steps backward, revels in your evident confusion, clumsiness, the flush high on your cheekbones. “Buckle down, sweetheart.”

“But—”

“No goddamn buts. Listen to me.” He ends up being the one to make work of his belt, and while he talks you have to bite your lip to keep from going slack-jawed at the sight of him. You’d been kidding about the nine inches thing, but Christ he’s huge, strained against the tight denim. He’s thick even under the layers of clothing, and all you want to do is choke on him. “You’re gonna let me use that mouth t’get off, first thing,” he grunts, like this is all some chore to him, “because I am not goin’ to put my cock in my best mate’s daughter.”

“How about,” you croak lightly, “your fingers, then?”

“Jesu—we’ll see.” He tugs his cock out then, and he’s fucking huge, he really is, his tip angry and flushed and being rubbed along your lips, sticking them up with his precum. He sighs contentedly, humming low, the vibration sent straight to your half-open mouth. You suck on the tip of him, watch a slow smile form on his face. “That sash oughta say somethin’ else.”

Your silence grants elaboration. “Number one slut, maybe.” You shift on your thighs, trying to hide how aroused you are at his mean behavior. But he can tell, he can watch the way your blinking slows, the way your eyes glazed over, glassy and teary from trying to take more of him. He doesn’t tell you to slow down, or go faster; he just watches, eyebrows knitted, focused. “Budge up.” 

A hand, big and calloused, threads through your hair and gives a tug, goading your mouth open so more of his cock slips past. Your jaw aches from the attempt alone, so you pull off before you start choking too much, tonguing at the parts of him you can’t reach—lower, until you’re laving at his balls. He grunts, pleasured, simmered down. Attagirl. Then you’re back, bobbing up and down, trying despite yourself to take all of him, until your eyes are watery and you’re spluttering, choked.

“Now this is…” He says, and it comes out in a contented little sigh, “a number one throat. Keep those pretty lips open, honey, ‘m gonna fuck them.”

You do, your achy jaw slacked as he begins bucking into your mouth, the sounds of your choking only spurring him on. He’s dominant, taking and taking, and you’re humiliated to find how wet you are, soaked through the lace of your thong and darkening the denim of your shorts.  The tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat only gets him to thrust even faster, watching tears fall from your eyes, streaky with mascara. His best friend’s daughter, taking dick like a fucking champ.

He thrusts harder, each sound emitting a nasty, incoherent noise out of you, choked little gasps that have him harder each time. Gonna fuck this throat raw, he mutters. Since that’s what you wan’ed, ain’t it? You reach up, light fingers massaging his balls, and then his hips stutter, and with barely any warning, you feel his hot seed shoot into your throat, little satisfied groans leaving the man above you.

You swallow what you can, limited by his dick still in your mouth. When he pulls out you lap at the cum left behind, circle your tongue around your lips, make a whole show of it. You speak again, your voice raspy and spent: “Please, my turn?”

He lifts you up and smirks at the way you yelp in surprise, tossing you onto the bed and pulling you back onto your knees, your back to his chest. He wrangles your shorts off, gives your ass a smack as he pulls them down, enough to expose what’s underneath. The stiff material gathers just above your bent knees, restraining you from moving much.

“D’you know what,” he says, still sounding angry—like he’s lecturing you, stern, “I could’ve been in bed, wakin’ up at six to work… instead I gotta teach this little brat a fuckin’ lesson. Your old man not teach y’enough manners?” He tugs your bra down, thumbs roughly at your pebbled nipples, wrenching a moan out of you. He’s hard again, dick poking into your ass, and fuck you want him in you.

“He didn’t,” you sniffle, pitiful. “Y’gotta teach me, Daddy.”

“Oh, she likes that, don’t she?” He grumbles, like the title is annoying, juvenile. The way his cock twitches tells you otherwise. “Shut up, baby honey. I got this.” He reaches up your thighs and the ticklish, pleasurable sensation gets you hot.

Joel, you whimper, seizing in on yourself. He grabs your other arm, pulls it back toward him so you remain open and pliant. Please, wait.

“No time for waitin’, not when you spend hours prancin’ around like a little whore, sweetheart.” Without preamble, he’s running his fingers up your thighs again, not stopping this time until his fingers are pressing into your clit, rubbing over the thin, soaked fabric of your panties. “And you’re so fucking wet for me. My number one girl, ain’t you?”

“Yea,” you babble dumbly. “Your number one girl.”

“Thaaat’s right. My girl needs her needy cunt filled up, don’t she? By Daddy’s fat fingers.” You nod along, drawn in by the vulgarity of his words, the way he spits them out. You’ve spent several nights fantasizing how his big, rough hands would feel on you—and you’ve been outproven. He’s so fast, so skilled with his fingers; they feel delicious in you. And you can’t stop thinking about all of those girls he implied he’s slept with, the way they probably got to this first. Lucky bitches.

He’s gotten you so wet the entire night, even moreso now, that your pussy is making obscene squelching noises with each pump of his fingers, these nastily loud noises that humiliate you, that turn you on even more, that make you drip all onto Joel’s linen sheets. Fuck, you whimper. He swats at your ass. No swearing, he’s saying.

“Look up for me, honey. Up at the window.” Outside, the sun’s beginning to crawl over Austin, just the faint blues and yellows of early morning. You realize you know this because his curtain’s been pulled open—by him, earlier, before any of this even started, you assume. And the only other thing you can see other than the sky and the sliver of the neighborhood is your parents’ window.

“No,” you plead, looking down. He doesn’t let you, tugs you back up to look by your hair. He knows your parents won’t be up ’til seven-thirty latest. But you don’t know that, and for now, you don’t have to.

“What then, huh, sweetheart? When they go to check on the weather n’ they see their best friend poundin’ their young daughter? What’d they think?” You jerk away, overcome with pleasure and embarrassment at the imaginary situation. You feel his fingers pump in and out of you, filling you up. They’re probably thick and hot, glistening each time they come out. You’re tightening up; you’ll cum soon, make a mess on his hand, which already drips with slick. “So you better hurry. Better make a mess on me soon.”

“I am, I’m—I’m gonna,” you moan. You’re wrapped up in the way his fingers play you just the right way. You’re so close to the surface, and you’ve been wanting this for way too long, so you nod, let yourself get carried away by his words, let yourself give in, spreading your legs as wide as they can go as he fingerfucks you, working out the tension that’s been building up for forever. 

“That’s my number one girl,” he grins into your neck, and you’re convulsing release onto his hand, wetting it even further. He wraps a hand around your waist, keeps you close to his figure, his erection at the small of your back. “That’s it, honey. Did so well for me.”

“I want it,” you say meekly. “Even if they see.”

He groans. “Sweetheart, you must think real low of me to believe I’d put my cock anywhere near Harold’s daughter’s pussy.”

You tug your panties fully down, just enough so they fall off on their own the rest of the way, and guide his slick hand behind yourself, pressing his finger first into your folds again, sensitive, and then up toward your tighter hole.

You feel his breath tighten behind you when you say: “How ‘bout there?”

[sinsandsweetness]

CAMERA SHY

(Rick & Daryl x fem!reader)

warnings- 18+ content. extremely filthy smut. not even joking srsly. lots of sex, filming it, unprotected p in v, oral (r!giving), cream pies, fingering, so many pet names it’s kind of sickening, dirty talk, one use of ‘daddy’ cause I just couldn’t help myself, two cocks at once, light choking, cowgirl, little bit of ass play, and spitting. think that’s it <3

notes- thank you guys for all the love on ‘birthday boy’! I’m so glad that so many of you enjoyed it. I thought I’d do a sequel/part 2 for it, where the boys film your alone time. It does occur directly following, but It can be read independently if you want! 3.1K word count.

Please let me know what you think! xoxo

Daryl made his way over to the dresser, no shirt on, just some pyjama pants slung low on his hips. His back still glistening, with water droplets trailing down his muscles. All taut and tan. The sight alone made you shift positions. Moving to your knees so you could squeeze your legs together. How on earth were you still horny?

He ruffled around the drawers contents and pulled out a video camera. A hand held silver one with a flip screen. One of those ones that people would film their home movies on. Christmas mornings and dance parties. Road trips and first steps. Though you’re pretty sure you guys weren’t the only ones using it for something a little less tasteful.

You couldn’t help but look over at Rick while Daryl played around with the thing. Turning it on and checking the battery. Getting it all ready for the movie you were about to make. Rick was biting his smile back. Trying to suppress his excitement about the situation.

They’d talked about this before. How they wanted something for when they had to be away from you. For longer supply runs that left them both a little hot and bothered. Missing you, waiting patiently for them back at home. Thinking about you touching yourself in their clothes. In their bed. Moaning their names and missing them just as much. And it’s not like phones were a thing anymore. You couldn’t call or sext. They just had to wait til they got back to deal with it. To deal with you.

If you were honest, the thought of them filming it, was a little nerve racking. But you wanted your boys to be happy. To always have a part of you available for their needs.

So there you were, sitting on your knees on the edge of the bed, both men standing in front of you, smelling like Irish Spring and laundry detergent. Looking down at you with two sets of the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen. Ricks hand was on your jaw, his thumb rubbing your lip and sneaking it’s way between your teeth. Your eyes were on Daryl, tilting the lens down at you. The little red light intimidating you with its glow. You shifted a little, thighs squeezing together even more, with both your hands shoved in between them.

“What are you squirming for, baby? You gettin’ all shy on us now?” Rick asked, with a teasing tone. Your gaze shifted between them. Swallowing hard. Yes. You nodded a little.

“You’re gonna do great, sweetheart. Just do what you always do. You’re always so good for us,” Daryl’s own hand was making its way to the back of your head, fingers finding their way into your hair.

Their praise helped a little. At least gave you the courage to reach for their waistbands, pulling each of them down. You grabbed them both in your hands, already rock hard in your grip. Both of them kept smiling down at you, giving you a little nod to keep going. “Go on,” they motioned in unison.

So you did. You licked at Daryl’s shaft, getting him all wet with your tongue before moving over to Rick, and repeating the same process. Feeling their grips tighten on your hair and the hitch in their breaths was all you needed to step it up a notch. Being sure to look right at the camera, you wrapped your lips around Daryl’s cock and started to move your head back and forth. Sucking him off all sloppy and messy. Just the way he likes it. Blushing hard but forcing yourself to step out of your comfort zone. This was for them.

You could feel a pearl of Rick’s precum drip onto your hand as you jacked him off, so you decided to swap. A string of spit from Daryl’s tip was still connected to your lips as you started on Rick. Keeping your hand on the other man, being sure to give them equal attention. You never wanted one of them to feel left out. Not that they ever did. They both knew how much you worshipped them.

You kept swapping back and forth. Gagging every so often when one of them would push a little too hard on the back of your head. Spit started running down your chin, and little sounds escaped the back of your throat. The whole situation created a pool of wetness in your panties. Surely soaking through the fabric.

Rick took you by the hair, pulling you off of him with a ‘pop’.

“Feels real good, baby. You look so pretty with your mouth wrapped around us.” He started, thumb rubbing all lovingly against your cheek bone. “But I think we’d like to get these panties off and give the camera a good look at some of your other pretty parts.” Rick playfully shoved your shoulder. So you dropped back onto the cool comforter. Knees coming up and crossing your ankles in anticipation, waiting for whatever plans the two were silently deciding on.

“So fucking wet, Daryl. Look at her.” Rick said, hands parting your legs so they could settle in between them. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks at their words. Their amused little laughs.

“Soaking right through, isn’t she? Sucking us off turn you on, sweetie? Is that it?”

“Uhuh. So much.” You nodded, propping yourself up onto your elbows. Both men on the mattress in front of you were making themselves comfy. Hands started trailing up your legs and playing with your boy shorts. Tracing the wet spot as your hips bucked. You were just so ready for them. Cunt still puffy and aroused, and even a little sore from your first round. But so, so ready for another.

Daryl made sure to capture Ricks fingers, tracing the wet spot of the cotton, and rubbing circles against your clit. Over your underwear, teasing, poking and prodding. Pulling them to the side when you whimpered a little, and his index finger glided through your slick with ease.

“Always so wet for us. Such a pretty pussy. So fucking pretty.” Rick praised, mesmerized at your swollen cunt. Practically throbbing for their attention. You lifted your hips as Daryl dragged your panties down. Throwing them off to one side of the room. They spread your legs so wide that your muscles hurt. Inner thighs stretched out and knees hooked around either man. Pulling them closer to you and eachother. Not that they minded.

They played with your pussy for a while. Getting you all sorts of worked up. Both of their fingers inside of you, stretching you out and making you groan. Clutching at the comforter below. Rick spat right on your clit, and you just about came right then and there. Unbelievable turned on by their focus. They slowly worked away at you, curling their fingers inside you and rubbing at your sensitive nub with their thumbs, definitely showing off a little for the camera. Taking everything just a a little slower than normal. So that they would have the most footage possible. Capturing your moans and whimpers and the way you moved against them. Desperate for more.

“Please I just- I-” your hips bucked further on to their fingers, and you could see the little look they gave each other. All mischievous and lustful. “What is it sweetie? You wanna cum? Is that it?”

You nodded eagerly. But with your confession, both men’s hands withdrew. Causing the quietest whimper to leave your mouth.

“Ugh,”

“Don’t complain. We just want you to cum on our dicks, that’s all. Isn’t that something you want, princess?”

It was more than ok. In fact it was preferred.

“Wanna cum on your cock, please.” You whined, pulling at Rick’s tee shirt

He groaned. He didn’t mean to. It’s just what your words could do to him.

“You will, sweetheart. I promise.”

You did. And it would have been a lot sooner if it weren’t for the damn camera in Daryl’s hands.

They had you get on top of Rick, straddling him as he sat up against the head board. Daryl started getting creative with his angles, with the camera behind you as he played with your ass, all while you rode Rick’s cock. Bouncing up and down as you held onto his shoulders. Pressed nice and close to his chest. His hands trailed up your shirt, peeling it off so he could grope your breasts, pinching your nipples nice and hard. Eventually his fingers wrapped themselves around your throat and squeezed gently on the sides.

He was stimulating every part of you that he could think of. His tongue was in your mouth the whole time. You stayed moaning against his lips and grinding down against him. Desperately trying to achieve more friction against your clit. It was driving you both wild.

Daryl stayed filming the whole thing. His own hand grabbing at your ass, thumb prodding at your other hole. Threatening to split you open once again. You were shocked he wasn’t touching himself. That he wasn’t getting his own dick wet. That he could actually keep the camera focused, even with the sight in front of him. The pure temptation to join in must have been killing him. Leaking precum all over his plaid pyjamas. That thought made your hips stutter. Along with the fact you’d be riding for what felt like ever. Your legs were starting to wear out. Muscles becoming all heavy and forcing you to switch from a bounce to a grind. Rick noticed you tiring out and decided to start fucking you from below. Hands moving to grip your ass cheeks and help you bounce. An actual cry left your mouth and you both knew you were close.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, I’m- Rick I-” you babbled against wet lips. Trying to hold off as long as possible, but he just kept hitting that damn spot. The spot that made you physically convulse around him. When Daryl’s dick pressed against your ass and you felt his hand squeeze your waist, that was it. You snapped like a rubber band. Cumming all over Ricks lap, your head fell back against Daryl’s chest as your rode out your high. Your body starting to twitch from the intensity of the orgasm. A very shaky sigh left your mouth as you all stopped to a halt.

“Feel good?” Daryl asked, lips brushing your ear, camera over your shoulder and pointed at Rick. The grainy screen was displaying his pretty face, lips parted and wet. Eyes focused on you. The lens moved down to show your hands. The ones still gripping Rick shoulders, tight enough to leave marks. He smiled when he noticed.

“So good. You make me feel so good, daddy. Both of you. Both my-” you were catching your breath. Rambling in your post orgasmic daze and drunkenness. But they weren’t done. And you knew that before you even came. They wouldn’t be done for a while. Even with your pussy practically raw and begging for an ice pack. You should have been begging for a break, yet somehow you were still dripping with need.

“One more, baby, then we’ll get you some rest okay?” Daryl asked all sweet, hand trailing under your shirt to squeeze at your breast.

“Want you both...” You whimpered. Rick’s cock still stuffed inside you. Filling you up and making your walls twitch. Yeah, you weren’t done.

You tried to get up. Figuring that they’d want you in another position. Something to switch it up. But when you pushed on Rick’s chest and tried to lift, they held you down, keeping you on his lap.

“What are you tryna do?” Rick smirked at you, wrapping his hands around your ass and moving your body for you. Grinding yourself against him again. The sound of your wetness squelching and making you blush.

“Was gonna move, I thought-”

“I’m really enjoying this view. Aren’t you?” Rick said, leaning in for another kiss. He always loved eye contact. Loved seeing your expressions and feeling your moans while you kissed.

“Mhm.” You agreed against his mouth. There was really no sense arguing. Even though you’re quads were on fire and you could barely lift yourself off of him to continue riding.

Daryl moved to place the camera on the bedside table. So that the three of you were in the frame. When he came back behind you, hands on your hips as he started kissing down your neck, your shoulders and the top of your spine. All while Ricks hands rocked you against him, fucking into you nice and slow.

“You gonna let us fuck your tight little ass again sweetie? Or do you want to get that pretty pussy all stretched out?” Daryl asked.

You turned to try and look at him. A little shocked at the suggestion. There was no way that would fit. Right?

They both chuckled at your reaction. Daryl’s thumbs already pushing themselves in to your asshole. Stretching out the tight muscle.

“We can do that?” You asked. Never even having considered it. But it was definitely intriguing.

“We can. Might hurt a little though,” Daryl warned you, catching your lips as his fingers moved down even further. Using your excess wetness to push his index in your pussy. Still stuffed full of Rick. You gasped as he hooked his finger upward. Even Rick made a little sound. Surprised by his own dick being touched and your walls stretching even further.

“Wanna try…” you sighed. Trying your hardest to relax your muscles. To allow them to actually ruin you. Split you in half on both of their cocks. You couldn’t imagine a better pain.

“Ok baby, we’ll give it a try. Just tell us if you wanna stop, ok?”

“Go real slow Daryl. Let her get used to it.” Rick told the man.

“Let her get used to it. Or you?”

“Both. Seriously, just go slow. Don’t wanna break her.” You could feel Daryl suppressing a quiet laugh against your skin. Two fingers now moving inside of you, getting you ready for his cock.

“Alright, come down a little,” he retracted his touch and pulled you by your hips. Both you and Rick shifting downward so he could lay back. His head pressed against the pillow. He stayed inside of you as you leaned forward, opening yourself up for the man behind you. Kissing the side of Ricks mouth and up to his earlobe. Knowing exactly how much he loved that.

Daryl spat on your hole. Moving foreword and pressing his tip against you. Pushing ever so slowly as the two of them stretched you out.

It hurt. But you expected that.

“Breath, sweet girl. Gotta breath, ok?” Rick told you, hands wrapping around your ribs nice and tight, holding you up since your legs were completely useless. Daryl’s hands were on your hips. Pulling you down onto the two of you until he managed to actually fit himself inside. All of him. Him and Rick. Inside of you, together. It was hard to even believe. But you were so stretched out, there was no denying that it was possible.

“Oh god,” you mumbled at the realization. At the feeling of being so fucking full.

“Oh god.” Rick repeated with a grunt. It was even better then last round, you realized. At least for them. Having the added pressure of another cock, rubbing up against them both. That extra friction affecting you all.

“You two all good?” Daryl tried to confirm, his breaths a little laboured as well.

“Yes!” You squeaked, realizing that Daryl had started to move. Thrusting slowly into you.

“Y-Yes. “ Ricks eyes were rolled back. The two of you breathing hard. And the sight of him in so much pleasure made your walls tighten. Earning another groan from them both.

“Keep going. Keep fucking me, please.” You asked them politely. Your wetness was running down your inner thigh.

So they fucked you. Rick from below, and Daryl from behind. Completely abusing your pretty little hole.

Rick was in heaven. You could tell by his eyes. All glossed over with his lips parted, breathing impressively slow. He was trying to focus on not cumming so quick. Daryl’s hands gripped your hips real tight. Snapping his own right against your ass. Nails leaving little crescent moons in your skin. Whispering little praises in your ear.

“So fucking tight for us. Such a good girl, always taking us so well. Doing so well, baby. So, so, good.”

You’d never taken them both. Not like this. And having them both together, was intense. Hitting every single spot inside of you. Ones you didn’t even know about. Ones that made you cry out and call their names.

“Still ok, baby?” Daryl asked, becoming just a little concerned by the sounds pouring out of you.

“Gonna cum, Dare, gonna- oh, oh.” You could feel a tear slip onto your cheek. Wet and salty when it hit your lips. The pressure and the buildup catching up to you. Hurting so fucking good. Your core was all hot and tight and your head became fuzzy.

“Don’t stop,” you whined, burying yourself into Rick’s shoulder as your orgasm rippled through you. A burst of heat running down your thighs and up your stomach. Waves of pleasure pulsed through your core.

The two of them moaned your name and a couple other profanities. Honestly, you didn’t hear. A little too hazy to pay close attention. They each came inside of you. Their seed physically flooded out of you when Daryl finally pulled out. Very slowly and carefully, so it wouldn’t hurt you too bad. And Rick too. So gentle and caring. Both boys Immediately getting you to lay down between them. Your pussy was fucking aching. But you didn’t mind too much. They kissed you lots. All over. Asking you a million times if you were ok. If it was too much. If they wore you out too badly.

“Gonna have to give you some time to recover, huh?” Rick asked, coming back from the kitchen. An ice cold glass of water in his hand.

“You’re sure we didn’t hurt you too bad?” Daryl added. Rick picked a towel off the hook on the back of the door. Bringing them both over for you.

“I liked it.” You responded. Not fully answering their questions. You would definitely need a few days. At the bare minimum. Your cunt was swollen, and you could feel it. Rick handed you the water and you drank up. The coolness coating your throat. Gulping a few sips down and passing the rest to Daryl beside you.

“Gotta get you all cleaned up,” Rick started with the towel in between your legs, wiping up the pearly mixture that had coated your thighs.

“Again…” you joked, smiling up at him.

“Bath? Shower? Just the towel? What do you want?” He smiled back.

“Mmmm… bubble bath,” you bit your lip.

“Bubble bath?” Daryl asked from beside you, smoothing some of your hair down. Trying to tame the unruly mess.

“Mhm,”

“Only if we can watch.”

“You can film it for all I care,” you turned to catch his lips. Grinning against your mouth.

They sat down on the vanity stools and watched as you laid your head against the tub. Both of them smiling down at your cuteness. Soapy suds hiding your body under the water. Only the tops of your breasts threatening to breach the surface. The hot water and lavender bubble bath doing wonders for your sore muscles. You were sure they’d give you a massage after, if you asked all nicely.

Despite the undeniable toll on your body, you’d relive the night again in a heart beat. Having them split you open all over their cocks was always ideal. But seeing Rick’s face as you got double stuffed, was the cherry on top. Shuddering beneath you and cumming with an actual moan. Accompanied by Daryl’s stuttering hips and grunts of his own. Each of you fucking eachother into a mess of pure ecstasy.

Thank fucking god they got it all on camera.

taglist: @rickswh0r3 , @elnyrae

[ comments and reblogs are always appreciated ]

[grippingbeskar]

old partners, new plans

— joel miller x fem!reader

—warnings: explicit content minors dni (oral m receiving, mxf) swearing, very minor dom!joel but it’s like not an established thing

—a/n: back at it!!! hope you guys enjoy! i love writing for joel sm. he so sexy <3

“That was not the deal.” You growl, squaring your shoulders.

“Deals change.” Is all the reply you get, Joel still leaning against the frame of your door. You can hardly see him there, the dark of night shrouding him in something akin to mystery— at least, he would be mysterious if you hadn’t already seen every inch of him.

“You know that’s not fair, Joel. I’ve waited ages for this opening, and I’m fucked without the pills to trade.” You take a step towards him and lower your voice, knowing people have been hung in the centre of town for even thinking about leaving, let alone having an entire plan like you did. Or had. “I need to get to them.”

“You don’t even know they’re out there.” You bite back a laugh, turning away from him. You hear the click of the door behind you, and Joel sounds louder as he finally steps into your house. “This is a bad idea— always has been. You got no proof, no solid plan… you’re fucked with or without the pills.”

“Oh, because you’re so sure Tommy’s still alive? That plan is so well thought out— huh?”

“That’s different.”

“No, it’s not! My family is out there, and they’re waiting for me. I know they are. I’ve had this plan for months— months, Joel! You know what this means, and you choose now of all times to hold out on me?!” You shout now, head under his chin staring up at him.

“I’m not holdin’ out, there’s nothin’ I can do about it. My guy ain’t getting back for a week, and I can’t just pull strings I don’t have.” Your heart plummets. The look in his face seems genuine— broken, sad… but it doesn’t make you any less angry. “I can’t help you.”

“But you were fine taking my batteries and tools. And my route to the outside for the last six months. All that you were happy to take me up on, but now it’s time to pay and you’re suddenly empty? I don’t buy it, Joel.” You say his name harshly, with none of the need and honey-like sweetness you remember from those few months of bliss before you told him you were getting out. Before he iced you out completely. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. As what— some kind of pay back?”

“You know that’s not—“

“Why? Because I’m not sleeping with you anymore? That’s fucking low, even for you. And you are the one that stopped that, not me, so don’t blame your blue balls on me just cause you can’t deal with the inevitable.” You suck in a quick breath, wishing you could take the words back.

Oh, he’s fucking angry now. Before he was letting you rant, letting you yell at him because he knew he was in the wrong but something about your comment made him flip.

Neither of you had mentioned what happened. How that night, when you told him you were leaving, he just got up and left your bed, never coming back. Sure, you were blunt and maybe a little harsh when you told him you were going, but he didn’t even look at you for a week. Only when you went to him to ask for the last piece of your escape plan, he managed to look at you, but even then he was short and harsh like you had been. Like you’d done something to him personally— left him cold and alone in a giant bed, words you never got to say still stuck in your throat. How he never gave you a chance to finish, to explain, to ask him to come with you. Find both of your families.

It was the first time you’d really spoken at all since then— conversations that used to be never ending and comforting turning to surface level communication, only speaking when necessary. Sure, you were shouting at each other right now but at least you were talking. Anything was better than silence.

“Don’t you ever fucking say that to me. Don’t you dare tell me I had anything to do with you leavin’. You did this to yourself— to us.” He didn’t yell, but you sort of wish he had, because the low, growling tone of his voice was somehow ten times worse. “You were the one who wanted to leave. I never—“

“You don’t have to remind me.” You don’t let him finish the thought, instead cutting him off and diverting your eyes to the fists at his side, straining with fury. His knuckles were bruised, either from work or a side gig he didn’t tell you about. He never told you about anything anymore.

“I got no pills. I’ll dump ‘em in the old spot when they come in. Try not to get yourself killed ‘til then.” He turns to leave, and you feel your stomach flip. This will be the last time you see him if he comes through. The last time you spoke.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” He laughs bitterly, shaking his head. “Hey— I didn’t meant that, alright? You really want to leave it like this?”

“You’re going. Probably gonna die out there. What’s the point in talking about it?” You want to yell, want to fight him on it but he wouldn’t even listen— “You’re signin’ your death sentence outside of these walls alone. Don’t blame me for not giving you the push.”

“Joel, just wait a second.” His hand stills as it moved to grab the door. “I don’t… I don’t want to leave you like this. I never wanted to leave you. If you just let me—“

“You made that bed weeks ago.” He stares ahead, never letting you finish and still not turning around to look at you. Your heart freezes at the thought of him walking out that door. You want to leave— but you never wanted to do it alone. Even after weeks of silence and rough edges, you’d take any time with him over… well, anything.

“Let me unmake it. Just… please don’t walk out on me, Joel.” You take a few tentative steps, gauging the progress you’ve made. His spine straightens when your fingers dance up his back, gentle and slow. You catch the bottom of his shirt and slip under, feeling the warmth of his skin under your palm and the way he sighs— as if your touch relieves him. “I hated how I went about… things. I never meant to have it turn out like this. Us ignoring each other.”

“Well, that’s what happened.” His head turns ninety degrees, eyes looking over his shoulder as you walk your fingers higher. His shoulder blades, always full of tension, relax under your hand, and you trail your other hand up to find the other, watching his eyes flutter closed as you dig your palms into the muscle there.

“I know. It was unfair of me to spring it on you that night, and I shouldn’t of said the things I did. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t say anything, but he sighs again as you continue to manipulate his muscle. You wish he’d take his shirt off so you could do it properly, but this would do for now. “But you never let me finish— that day.”

“I heard…fuck. I heard what I needed to hear.” His head drops down, chin to his chest as you step up on your toes and massage him in slow, steady circles. You hadn’t touched him in so long, you were nearly burning with just this intimacy alone, but you had to bide your time. Coax him in slowly, like a scared lone wolf— tempt him closer with paced, quiet movements until you could get your chance.

“Let me fix it. Fix this.” You say softly, your heart slamming against your chest.

“You’re still leaving. Can’t fix that.” His voice strains, and you run your hands lower to dig into the muscle of his back.

“Yeah.” He sighs again at your answer. “And you still hate me for it.”

“Yeah.” He copies you, and you try to ignore how much the simple word affects you.

“But we still have right now.”

“What’s the— shit, that’s good.” He shuffles back into your touch. “What the point?”

“Cause I can make you feel so much better than this. Don’t you remember?” You are nearly begging, but if memory serves you right, a few ‘pleases’ seem to make him do just about anything. “This is just my hands, but my mouth… my—“

“Yeah. Yeah, I fucking remember. Think about it every night.” You run your hands up again, but this time take his shirt with you and bring it up over his head. He moves, finally, grabbing the collar and shucking it off his shoulders, letting the fabric pool at his feet in front of the door.

“Let me make it up to you. Please, Joel.” He groans when you press harder, feeling how his muscles have gone nearly placid under your touch now. “Even if it’s just tonight. If you still hate me, you can leave and not look back, but I… I can’t stand this thing we have going on. The quiet. I can’t do it. Please.”

He turns around, towering over you as a mass of unkept, wild curls and a burning need in his eyes. It makes you smile, that look in his eye— because it’s been so long since he’s looked at you with anything other than hatred. Now, he needs you. Needs what only you can give him, and even if this could be the last night of it, you couldn’t help but think it would last forever with how heavy his gaze was.

“You wanna make it up to me?” He’s tilting his head in question, watching your hands move up and down his torso in teasing strokes.

“Please, Joel.” You see it splinter, his final plank of resolve shredding and dispersing on your floor under the weight of your words. Your voice nearly cracks with desperation— you need it as badly as he does.

“Get on your knees.” You blink at him, your fingers trailing down his toned chest before nodding and obeying his command readily. Joel was always a giver— always spending hours on you and you alone, and he fucking loved it— but tonight you had all but begged him to take. Lose a little bit of that control he clings so tightly to, watch the tension loose from his shoulders as he forgets about everything but you.

You trail your lips along his lower stomach as you sink to your knees, eyes never leaving his— ones that have practically turned onyx black as he watches your path, chest rising and falling rapidly. He moves his leg before you hit the ground, and it’s not until your bare knees settle into something a little softer than hard wood floor that you realise he’s kicked his shirt under you.

Even when he acted the part of hating you— he never stopped thinking of you.

Your fingers shake as they fumble with his belt, Joel making no move to help you as you struggle with the loops. When you finally break it free, Joel’s hand reaches down and threads your hair through his fingers. His thumb trails the highest point of your cheekbone, and your eyes flutter as you involuntarily nuzzle into his touch. It’s comforting and warm, and the intimacy of him knowing how you like to be touched even on your face has your cheeks burning. You think you catch him smile at you, and then your focus snaps back to the sight right at your eye-line when you pull his boxers and jeans down in one go.

“Missed your cock, Joel. Fuck.” You are nearly mesmerised at him in front of you, words spilling out as he stands in front of you completely naked while you remain fully clothed. He groans, head rolling back as you wrap your hand around his base.

“I bet you did. Can remember how loud you used to be— I fucking loved that.” Even if the compliment is purely physical, compared to how little you’ve gotten from him it boosts your ego through the roof. You can’t wait any longer, wrapping your lips around the tip of his straining cock. “That’s it, darlin’.”

You don’t tease him, but you do start slow. Despite how much you want to suffocate on him, have him fuck out any of that hate he’s still holding so he can’t think of anything but your mouth, you know he likes it to start slow. It’s like he’s denying himself, even here, that he doesn’t deserve the instant gratification. Like he wants to suffer through it first— a little bit of pain to accompany the overwhelming pleasure that follows.

“Fuck, you’re good. Just like that.” He praises, his hand sneaking back to the nape of your neck. Not pushing, but instead gathering your hair and using his fist as a make shift ponytail. “Missed your mouth.”

“Mm?” You make a muffled noise, hoping to God he keeps telling you how much he missed any part of you. Like he dragged through the last few weeks as poorly as you did. You were already fizzling in your stomach, your thighs clenching together with every swirl of your tongue around the head of his cock.

“Thought about you every day. Every— fuck. Nothin’ gets me off like you. Ha-ah, shit.” You take him to the back of your throat, gagging a little but loving every choked sound sound that stutters out of Joel’s mouth. “Had to fuck my fist thinkin’ about your pretty little face. Fuckin’ hated myself for it.”

You speed up, wanting nothing more than for him to yank you upwards and bend you over the counter, but you’ll take what you can get. The salty taste of him mixes on your tongue, and it’s always so messy giving him head, but he goes feral for it. He’s watching you now, the words punched out of his chest as you move your hand to match your mouth, and you know the tears in your eyes and strands of hair across your face just send him wild.

He says your name how you remember, with all the sweet and drawn out inflections his accent gives it. You take him deeper, indulging a low and dormant urge to please him clawing it’s way to the front of your brain. He groans again, the hand at the back of your head pressing just slightly— a sign he’s losing that last bit of self control.

“Fuck— stop, baby. Stop.” He splutters out, and you draw yourself back slowly. He keeps his hand in your hair, looking down at you possessively. His chest is moving rapidly, trying to catch his breath from where you had him so close. Your eyebrows furrow, confused as to why he didn’t let you do the one thing you really wanted to right now. Make him feel good.

“What’s wrong?” You say softly, and he hauls you upward, barely giving you time to find your footing before he surges forward and kisses you.

It nearly knocks you off your feet, the hunger behind it making you stumble a few steps to where you know the bed is. He wastes no time, tasting himself on your tongue and taking you with him down onto the mattress. He pulls your shirt off first, kissing his way down to where your hips are still covered by sweat pants.

It’s here he takes his time, watching you writhe with impatience as he slowly draws the fabric down. He kisses your hipbones as they are revealed, the gentle touches making your head spin. He was meant to hate you— meant to be fucking you hard and fast just one more time to get it out of his system, so that you felt like what you two had could end on some kind of high. You owed him that much.

But this? The way his hands were so soft and gentle— practically caressing along your sides and over your thighs. The care behind his movements, the way he looked at you… it wasn’t how you used to fuck. This wasn’t hard and dirty, not scratching an itch or quenching a thirst— this had something more behind it. You knew it, and by the way he smiled over you, he did too.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispers against your skin, the rough hair on his cheeks tingling the softness of your inner thighs. He says it quietly, like you weren’t supposed to hear it, but you do, and your body floods with heat.

“Joel.” You whimper, your underwear dragging down your legs before he crawls back up your body. “Joel, I’m sorry.”

“I know, baby. Just focus on me, okay?” You feel him against you, the head of his cock dragging up and down causing your hips to twitch every time. “You always get so wet from doing that, don’t you?”

“Just from you. It’s just you, Joel.” You whimper, and his face crumbles in front of you. He bends to kiss you again, the air in your lungs sucked out leaving you breathless. He’s handling you with such care— like he still does. Care.

When he pushes into you, you both sigh, Joel dropping onto his forearms caging you under him. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck— teeth dragging along your collar bone with each slow thrust.

“You always feel so good. Can’t live without this, baby.” He’s almost whining, grinding into you with so much strength you hear the bed creak with each move. He’s reaching every nerve you have, crackling each one with a searing pleasure that’s only ever associated with him.

“N-neither. Please— please, Joel.” You beg for something, anything he’d give you, and his head moves to press his forehead to yours. His hips stutter, eyes half lidded but focused on you.

“Don’t leave. I’ll… god, so good. Don’t go.” He fucks you a little harder, like he’s trying to prove a point. Trying to convince you— but he doesn’t have to.

“Come with me.” You whisper, hands threading into his hair. You tug hard, making him groan.

“Baby.” He says lowly, voice grating and strained. Every thrust of his hips hurtles you closer to release, one of his hands snaking down your body to circle your clit. You can’t talk anymore, the only noises you can make are loud moans followed by choked out versions of his name. “Fuck— fuck, I can’t last. I can’t..”

You squeeze your eyes shut, pleasure rolling over you from your fingertips to your toes, the weight of Joel’s body keeping you firmly secured on the mattress. It’s like the heavy press of his warm skin multiplies the feeling, nails digging into the flesh of his back.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, and it only takes a few more strokes of Joel’s cock and he’s cumming with you, both of you clinging to each other as you try to draw out the others high. Even when you’re supposed to be fighting, each of you are doing anything and everything for each other.

Joel still feels warm above you, keeping himself inside as long as he can stand before he pulls out slowly. You whimper from the loss, but he shuts you up with a deep, desperate kiss. It’s lazy and meaningful— teeth and tongues clashing from how hard he’s pressing on top of you.

Both of you are sweaty and out of breath, but neither can find the strength to pull your mouths away from each other. You know once you do, it was meant to be over— but it couldn’t be. There wasn’t going to be a version of this story where you missed out on the only good, real thing you’ve had in a long time just because you didn’t have the guts to repeat yourself. You pull back from his mouth as hard as it is, and he groans a little in frustration of having to chase you.

“Joel…” Your hands find their way up to his face, holding him so close that your noses bump together. “I meant it. Come with me.”

“Darlin’, I gotta… Tommy needs me to find him. I…” He looks you up and down again, eyes catching on the little hickeys he’s left over your chest and neck, and you think he might be considering the possibility of leaving everything behind and just following you despite it.

But you’d never ask him to. You had this thought out— and if he’d just listened to you the first time, he would already know.

“I know. We can find him. The pills— I’m trading it for a full tank of gas for a car I repaired. It’s just outside the safe zone.” He shifts up, thighs still straddling over your waist. “We can find him, find my family.”

“You fixed a… of course you did. Fixed a fucking car right under their nose.” He shakes his head, laughing before leaning down and smothering you in a suffocating kiss. He’s still smiling when he pulls away, tucking your body into his chest. “Jesus. You’re unbelievable.”

“I would of told you.” You say, not having the nerve to look up at him. “That night— I tried to tell you. We have people that need us, but I need you, too.”

“Mm.” He says, burying his face into your hair. You can feel the smile in the way he hums, his hands grabbing at your sides and holding you closer. “Need you, too.”

“What was that?” You try to turn and look up at him, a teasing smirk on your face but he doesn’t let you. “The Joel Miller— needs me?”

“Need your car.” He grumbles and you laugh harder, your legs tangling together in a comforting knot of limbs. “When do we leave?”

“When you get the pills.” He hums again.

“Tomorrow. I’ll get ‘em tomorrow.”

“Oh, you fucking asshole. You were getting them the whole time, weren’t you?” He still refuses to let you move, strong arms keeping your bodies together. He doesn’t say anything, just laughs and nods before his breathing starts to slow.

You wanted to turn and see his face when he said that— that he needed you. But as you feel him go limp behind you, you figure you’ll get enough time to stare at his face when you drive across the state to get Tommy, and whatever comes after that. You might not know what comes next, but whatever it is, you feel a hell of a lot better knowing it’ll be with him.

[mystic-writings]

sneak out | jess mariano

PAIRING — jess mariano x fem!gilmore!reader SUMMARY — minutes into your mother’s dinner party, jess suggests you sneak out through your bedroom window - and you can’t help but agree WARNINGS — fluff, jess and reader being ‘troubled’ teens, a bit of angst, reader venting WORD COUNT — 2,322 NOTES — the idea of lorelai having a teen that was just like her is so appealing to me idk why - also would you believe me if i told you i listened to yung gravy while writing the majority of this fic

masterlist | navigation

You weren’t sure which was worse - the dinner your mother was hosting, or the idea that you now had to put up with a whole night of Luke’s strange nephew, whom you’d never met before.

Of course, you loved your family to pieces, and you loved Sookie and Jackson; hell, sometimes you looked at Luke as more of a father than you did your actual dad, but having everyone together for what you knew would be at least a three course meal, under one roof, with Luke’s mysterious nephew from New York, just felt draining.

So, to preserve what little social battery you had left for the day, you decided to spend the time between school and dinner in your room upstairs with a good book and a cd playing from the player that sat on your dresser at a low volume. You had to change the cd twice, first from one of your mothers Bangles cds to a Smiths one, but just as you were enjoying the beginning of David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust album (and nearly finishing up your book), did you hear the clanging of pots and pans from downstairs, as well as Sookie and Jackson’s lighthearted bickering.

You managed to bury yourself back into your book, one leg crossed loosely over the other outstretched one as you half-sat, half-laid on your bed, being mindful of your shoes so as to not get any dirt on your covers.

From downstairs, Jess was wandering around the Gilmore home as everyone else did whatever they were doing in the kitchen, internally monologuing and half-mocking their decor. He’d met Rory already, and she seemed like a nice enough girl. Enjoyed books. But he had yet to meet the third and final Gilmore girl, who so far had only been mentioned. However, as Jess scanned the various photographs on the mantle, he could hear the faint guitar of Suffragette City emanating from somewhere upstairs.

After peeking down the hallway to make sure no one was watching, Jess smirked and snuck up the stairs, into what was surely off-limits territory for someone like him. Still, he took the stairs two at a time and stealthily, managing to avoid all the places that would creak in a house like this one, despite never stepping foot inside beforehand. He followed the music down the hall, past some more paintings and pictures, to another bedroom. The door was open, and he was able to take a look inside. Posters covered most of the wall, leaving little space to show off the paint beneath them. Bookshelves occupied the wall right beside the door, and similarly to Rory’s room, they looked stuffed to the brim with books.

On the bed, facing him, was the person he assumed to be the final Gilmore girl - Rory’s twin sister. He watched intently, scanning every feature of your focused face as you scanned the final pages of the book you were reading. How your brow furrowed, eyes locked on the ink before you. The way the foot that hung off the edge of the bed was moving to the beat of the song.

Once Jess had decided that he’d been watching you long enough to constitute stalking, and how that was probably extremely creepy, he nudged the door open with a creak and stepped inside, clearing his throat and pulling his lips into a slight smirk. “Hey there, Ziggy.”

At first, you thought that your mother was finally calling you down to dinner, until you heard the unusually male - and entirely unfamiliar - voice come from the body in your doorway. Tucking a receipt into your book to mark your place, you glared over at the boy standing in your room with his hands behind his back, smugness rolling off of him in waves as he admired your room.

“You’re Jess, aren’t you.” Your flat tone seemed to amuse him.

“How nice, you already know my name. I’m flattered.”

You watched him as he walked around your room, over to the window where your desk was, trying to figure him out as he peeled back your curtains. “It’s impossible to not know someone’s name in this town, even someone who’s only been here for 28 hours.”

He chuckled. “Nice one, Ziggy. Now tell me, why aren’t you downstairs with the rest of the freakshow? I mean, they are your family, after all, aren’t they?”

You pretended to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. “Sorry to break it to you, Mariano, but I’ve been banned from the freakshow. Apparently having apathy toward any sort of Gilmore humour is forbidden, and they’ve locked me away forever.”

“Aw, so sorry to hear that.” Jess mocked, placing a hand over his heart with an exaggerated pout. “I can’t believe they shunned such a ray of sunshine.” He smirked at your rolled eyes. “No, really, you must be a real treat at parties.”

“Quit it, Mariano. Is there a reason you came up here or did you just want to cause enough trouble to get kicked out of our beloved Stars Hollow? Because if so, you came to the right girl.”

Jess’ brow quirked. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you heaved a dramatic sigh, slipping off your bed to walk over to Jess. “But it’s like… 9pm on a Wednesday. In Stars Hollow. Even if I wanted to cause trouble, and I don’t, because I did enough of that at school today, there’s nothing to do. Everyone’s asleep, and I’m pretty sure our 24-hour mini-mart closed like, half an hour ago.”

Now it was Jess’ turn to roll his eyes. “Your sister said that already. Is there seriously nothing to do here?”

“Nope.” You shrugged, just as a thought came to mind. “Well… there is one thing…” Jess’ eyebrows raised at the prospect of having something fun to do, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s not anything revolutionary, you know.”

“Still, give me something, anything, to get us out of here, Ziggy. I’m begging you. I’m being suffocated by the stale air of suburban life.”

You nodded, tapping your fingers on your thigh. “Fine, I’ll tell you. But you gotta do one thing for me.”

“What is it? I’ll do anything, I swear.”

“Stop calling me Ziggy.” You said. “It’s a stupid nickname, and although I admire the fact that you listen to David Bowie enough to come up with a nickname like that one, I hate it. Call me by my actual name.”

“Well I would, if I knew it.”

“My mother never told you my name?” You asked with a raised brow. “She never shuts up about me and Rory, I’m surprised you never caught it.”

“Apparently, I didn’t. It seems she likes talking about Rory more.” Jess shrugged. “At least, around me she does.” He barely caught the slight sag of your shoulders, the drop in your demeanour, before you picked it back up and smiled.

“Well, Jess. I’m Y/n. Y/n Gilmore.” After a pause, you looked around and snagged a sweater from the chair in the corner of your room. “Now, if you’ll follow me, let’s go have as much fun as we’re able to in Stars Hollow at night.”

Jess waited impatiently behind you as you unlatched the window by your desk and pushed it up, slipping through and holding it open for him. As he clamoured out, you grabbed the rock underneath the window and placed it on the windowsill, lowering the window so you’d still be able to get back in later.

You could still hear the tail end of the album playing as Jess looked around.

“How are we supposed to get down?”

“The trellis, obviously.” You said, carefully making your way across the porch’s roof to the trellis right next to the kitchen window. “Just don’t make much noise, this thing is right next to the kitchen’s window and if we get caught we’re screwed. Follow my lead, and run when you hit the ground, got it?”

“Got it.”

Scaling down the trellis was basically second nature to you, but you made sure to look up every once in a while to make sure Jess was doing okay. He seemed to be, which comforted you somehow. You waited at the bottom for him, making sure to stay out of view of the window to the kitchen and the edge of the porch, which were on either side of the trellis, and could possibly get both you and Jess grounded.

When he landed, he looked at you, and a dish clattered in the kitchen. You both snapped to the window, then back to each other. On instinct, you took his hand and ran toward the woods.

“Where the hell are we going?!” Jess whisper-shouted.

“Relax!” You whisper-shouted back, slowing to a stop as soon as you were hidden in the tree line. “We’re not going into the woods, dumbass. What do you think would’ve happened if we waltzed out in the open in front of the living room window?”

Jess only sighed and nodded, letting go of your hand. He let you lead him through the trees, keeping the light of the house close to you, walking around the garage and past all the cars, waiting until Babette’s house was out of sight until you stepped back onto the road.

The walk was calm and quiet, crickets and the breeze occupying you instead of chatter. After a while, when you were beginning to reach the town centre, Jess spoke up. “So, what now?”

You shrugged. “Not sure. Usually I head to the lake, bring a book, or a cd player and some headphones. I don’t normally bring people with me, you know?”

Jess nodded, lips slightly pursed. The walk continued through the town, passing by shop after shop, all of them closed for the night. You had to admit, you weren’t used to taking walks like these, out in the open. Normally you’d find whichever path kept you out of the possible sight of the townspeople, a habit you developed after Taylor snitched on you to your mother after he caught you walking to the lake by the Inn when you were 12. Still, it was nice, and even if you were caught, you somehow didn’t seem to mind it.

As the buildings were fading again and you knew you were approaching the lake, you checked your watch. 9:27pm. You sighed, and Jess looked at you. Dropping your arm, you shook your head. “Almost 9:30. They definitely have to know something’s up at home. Probably sending out a search party by now.” You told him, before shrugging. “Or, you know, miraculously, they forgot we existed and are eating Sookie’s delicious no-allergen, fourteen course meal as we speak.”

Jess scoffed. “Yeah, right. Luke might not care that much, but Lorelai? She seems like the world’s most protective parent.”

“She is.” You confirmed, sitting on your usual bench, eyes following Jess as he sat next to you. “Trust me, I love her to death, but it gets annoying sometimes.”

“Yeah, well, at least you have a protective mom.” Jess’ hands gripped the edge of the bench, his body hunched forward, making him look small, ready to run at a moment’s notice. “Mine decided I wasn’t worth the effort. Shipped me off to this… circus show without so much as a ‘sayonara, kid.’ You’re lucky.”

You frowned. Everyone knew within the hour of him arriving in Stars Hollow that Jess was a troubled kid, but even troubled kids deserved parents that cared. He was right, though, you were lucky. It just didn’t feel like it.

“I know I’m lucky, Jess, but it’s not all rainbows for me, you know.”

“Oh yeah? How?” He scoffed. “You have the perfect life, Y/n. A mom that cares, a great twin sister - hell, even Luke sings your praises.”

“Luke sings?”

Jess rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“It’s not like that all the time, Jess.” You sighed. “My ‘great’ twin sister is, apparently, so great that she has all eyes on her at all times. My grandparents are always so proud of her for being so smart and planning this amazing, expensive, studious future - they’re planning on funding it, too, from the sounds of things. I just want to live, you know?” You kicked a rock with your shoe, avoiding Jess’ concerned gaze.

“And my mother seems more concerned about her wellbeing than mine, closer to her than to me. But somehow she wonders why I’m the troubled one. I mean, I act out, I barely go to that stupid prep school because it’s so suffocating, and I got an eyebrow piercing without permission instead of taking a calculus test last month, which I’m just getting out of that punishment. Everyone’s so focused on Rory and how seemingly great she is, I don’t even remember the last time I was appreciated for anything. And don’t even get me started on my dad.”

“Sounds like these freaks don’t know a good person when they see one.” Jess told you. “You seem chill. Adventurous, too. But just because you aren’t appreciated doesn’t mean you aren’t good enough.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “You too, Jess.” The world quieted around you for a moment, stars shining off the rippling waters of the lake. “But we don’t need to be good enough for them. Just good enough for us.”

He smiled, nodding once at you. Again, you appreciated the silence with him, watching the water or the sky. It wouldn’t be long until Luke and your mother found you both, you with your head on his shoulder and one knee bent to your chest, laughing quietly at a joke he told as you continued to get to know one another. But that was later. For now, you simply sat and watched the water, wishing the moment could last for the rest of your lives.

permanent taglist: @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @queen-asteria04 @heliads

jess mariano taglist: open!

taglist form is in my navigation!

[nahoyasboyfriend]

Burning desire

warnings: professor and student, fem!reader, shameless smut, creampie bc why not, choking (it's James what did you expect), readers a love(lust)struck loser who likes her teacher.

Word count: 4.8k

A/N: first time writing something on that more the 2k. This isn't proofread, but I hope it's to your liking. This is kinda old so it might be bad. Hope you enjoy!

You arrived fairly early on the first day. It wasn't really intentional—you live only a few blocks away and paranoid that you have somehow overslept, rushed to get ready. Thankfully you aren't too early for the door to be locked, just enough for the classroom to be mostly empty of students. There were two other people in the room, pulling paper and pencils out their bags and not paying you any mind. You make yourself comfortable in your seat—not too close but not painfully far from where the instructor will be—and follow in their example.

With nothing left to do, you pull out your phone to mindlessly scroll until class starts. In the midst of liking some random post, your phone buzzes—the low battery notification pops on the screen. You would forget to charge your phone last night. Sighing, you reach into your bag to grab your charger, sifting through the content of your bag only to find it not in there; you must've left it at home. Just great. After your phone dies, you have no other choice but to either look blankly at your desk or watch the few people here.

You find your eyes flitting across the room to them; it's not like you don't watch people when you're bored anyway.

When you've had your fill of observing, the door opens—it looks like your teacher has finally arrived. You watch the man get himself ready for the upcoming lecture; he’s busy arranging some paperwork so you take the time to ogle him shamelessly. He looks young, maybe around his early thirties. His hair is slicked down to perfection and he has a little pencil mustache—He is, admittedly, rather handsome.

You hadn't expected that. You weren't quite sure what your expectation was—probably thought he'd be some fourty-year old depressed asshole whose wife doesn’t love him. Yeah…that'd be the type of person who looks like they’d teach a course like this one.

Suddenly, he glances up, probably to check how many people had come in. Still, it scares the living daylights out of you—you rip your gaze away from him. Opting to snatch up your phone and pretend you have more interesting things to look at besides your teacher, you feel your face warm up when you still feel his eyes on you. The sound of his chair scraping the floor pulls everyone's attention to the front; he saunters over to the board and jots down his name with Expo marker.

“My name is Mr. March,” he declares with a smile. Oh fuck, he has a nice voice.

You don't pay much attention to the rest of his introduction, but you still enjoy the timbre of his voice. Instead, you go back to admiring his looks in a totally-not-creepy way. He looks like money-personified; the black vest, the white button-up underneath, and the pair of black pants are all crisp and obviously made with premium material. He even walks with a grace that most lack,talking in a manner like he is more of a socialite than a mere college professor.

More students start to flow in and by the time Mr. March is through with going over his expectations for the semester, everyone is seated and ready for class to start.

In the row ahead of you, a group of girls were quietly debating amongst themselves if he was single or not. You would've laughed if you weren't curious yourself. You spent the remainder of class staring at him without listening to a word that left his pretty mouth (later on you beat yourself up for not taking notes). His voice was hypnotic, each word sinking you deeper into whatever trance you were in. He was refined… elegant. Every movement looked calculated.

Honestly, he could be one of those old Hollywood stars. Face perfectly sculpted to be plastered on billboards; a smile born for posters. Briefly, you wondered if you were to go searching that you'd find him in a classical film.

Then, he's looking at you and the world stops—it shouldn't be anything mind-blowing because there's really nothing special about it, but still, you find yourself immobilized. His voice is syrupy, smooth, and mind-numbing. He clears his throat and your cheeks burn. He looks expectant, like he's waiting for something. He definitely asked you a question. Scrambling through your racing thoughts, you just stare dumbly at him, waiting for him to repeat whatever he had asked. He doesn't.

“I, er, don't know,” you mumble sheepishly. He quirks an eyebrow at that, painfully unimpressed. He doesn't say anything for what feels like an eternity and his silence suffocates you. The only sounds in the class were a few chuckles from other students. You shift in your seat.

“You would've known if you had listened to me,” he lightly scolds. You nod, hoping that'll be enough to show that you get his point. He furrows his brows, and he looks like he's about to push it further. Luckily, he takes mercy on you and simply repeats the initial question.

A few more giggles, and the class is back to normal. You'd think being publicly berated would be enough for you to learn your lesson, but it isn't. Because soon enough, his words are going in one ear and out the other—the words meld together into a pleasant hum in the background.

Before you know it, class is over. You bite your lip as you hurry to pack your bags, the shame from earlier returning like a punch to the gut. You don't dare look in his direction, avoiding eye contact at all costs. You scurry out the door, and thank the lord he's your only class of the day.

You let out a long-awaited sigh as you burst through your front door, haphazardly throwing your bag in the corner—you can finally decompress. You study until you feel like your head is about to burst to keep your thoughts off of him and the rather embarrassing way your first day ended.

It's been a few weeks since you got chastised for being an absent-minded idiot, and despite the embarrassment you can't bring yourself to be mad at him. Instead of anger, or even mild annoyance, all you feel is attraction. You try to deny it, bottle it up and push it to the back of your mind. Innocent fascination is what you label it. His passè charm and unconventional way of speaking is why you can't get him out of your head. That's the real reason all your thoughts lead back to him. Why at night you get struck with downright obscene visuals of him. You don't touch yourself— At least not in reality.

The you— you’ve conjured up in your head does, she touches him too. She fondles him in places you'll never see—let alone touch in real life. He says things to her that you'll never hear. He gradually seeps into your dreams, when that happens you wake up with damp underwear, and humiliation that settles deep in the crevices of your gut. It makes seeing him so much worse, but something about him captivates you.

You find yourself sneaking glances when you're convinced he isn't looking– It's the only thing you can't seem to stop– so you indulge. The only rule: don't get caught. And that sounds pretty easy to adhere to. Just don't look too long.

Simple, right?

Naively, you were confident you could do it. It worked for a little while. But at some point, you got complacent. Assured yourself you wouldn't get caught because you were doing so well. Your eyes meet in slow motion, or that's how it felt to you. In the middle of personal study time, so you had no real excuse. Neither of you break eye contact for a few more seconds, and he has a plain, almost bored expression on his face.

Ducking your head down, you stare at your blank paper. You don't pretend to write anything. It's pointless now. You’d been caught red-handed. You simply sit there, wallowing in your shame. That's become your favorite pastime lately. Deciding enough time has passed, you peek up. He's gone back to whatever he was writing and you decide that now is the time to actually write on your paper.

Class ends and you're packing up. You don't rush today, taking your time collecting your things.

“a word, please.”

You swallow dryly, cemented in place. Hesitantly, you peer up at him. His eyes bore deep into your soul like two black voids sucking you in. Growing impatient, he adds: “Yes, you. I'd like to speak to you.”

You dwandle your way to him. He doesn't rush you, at least not verbally, but by the look on his face your torpor was getting under his skin. You pick up the pace. Finally, you reach his desk. “You, um, wanted to speak to me?”

“Mm,” He clasps his hands, sitting them on his desk. “I called you here to discuss your grades,” he says, “you're a clever girl, we're both aware of that. You could be doing so much better, but there's something distracting you, correct?”

For a brief moment thick, uncomfortable silence falls over the two of you. You rummage through your brain for explanations. How could you tell him that he's the distraction? That all your troubles were somehow connected to him.

“I, uh, haven't been keeping up with my studies lately,” you stammer, “My sleep schedule has been kinda messed up,” Because of you. “So, when I get that in order I should be good.”

He frowns, narrowing his eyes slightly; he doesn't look convinced. Standing up, he makes his way to you. He stops in front of you, looming over you like a shadow. He's of average height, but you still have to tilt your head up to meet his gaze. You’re struck by the fragrance of his cologne— god, he smells amazing. He places a hand on your shoulder, you tense up almost immediately. His hand is so big. Shaking those thoughts away, you nervously await his next word.

“If you don't compose yourself, I fear I may have to take on a more… hands-on approach.” he tuts, giving your shoulder a nearly painful squeeze. You blink, dazed. You swallow once more, desperately trying to wet your throat. “I understand,” you utter, voice airy like you'd been running a marathon. You feel dizzy. His words buzzing in your head like tv static.

You honestly just want to get out of here, and wait out the heat that’s building between your thighs. Pleased with your response, he smiles at you. A lazy, feline grin, and you can see the slight indents of his dimples.

“Wonderful!” He replies, gleefully. His hand lets go of your shoulder. Your skin is still throbbing from the contact. “Well, then, you're dismissed.”

When you make it inside, you're panting, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat from speed walking all the way home. You let your bag drop onto the floor, unconcerned with where it lands. You sigh, exasperated. There's a pressure in your chest, or it could be described as a warmth. Or an ache. Or all those things at once. You weren't sure— nor do you really care. All you know is his words keep replaying in your head, muddling all your thoughts.

You practically run to your bed, exhausted from your own thoughts. Before you can attempt to stop it, he's invading your head for the umpteenth time. You groan. That warmth in your chest begins trickling down, pooling in the space between your legs. You can still feel his hand on your shoulder, the dull ache of the squeeze. Flipping onto your back, you stare vacantly at the ceiling. You could only deny yourself for so long. Placing your feet flat on the mattress, your hand slips past the band of your panties. A little relaxation couldn't hurt. Especially with how pent up you've been, It was well deserved.

You let out a breathless little whine when your fingers brush your swollen clit. God, you needed this. You run a finger through your folds, the slick sticks your skin. Using your wetness to ease the friction, you rub slow circles on your clit, and your eyes flutter shut. You could see him on the back of your eyelids. Your hips buck up pathetically into your own hand. You're leaking, cunt quivering around nothing.

You could still smell him. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating, even now it lingered in your nose. Rich and velvety. Something that wealthy decadents would wear just to let you know you'd never be able to afford it. You push a finger in, various curses fall from your lips. His hands– my god, his hands. They're so big. So strong. You slip another finger in. The heel of your hand grinds against your clit, and the feeling sends chills down your spine.

You're a writhing, squirming mess on your bed. The squelching from your fingers thrusting into your dripping cunt has the tips of your ears burning, but you don't stop. You picture him, his fingers knuckle deep in your cunt, methodically fucking them in and out of you. You imagine him curling them inside of you, and you mimic the motion in real life, sending another rush of slick gushing out. You think about the sweet purr of his voice, urging you on— instructing you to cum, so you do. You come hard, mumbling his name like he's your new god.

The shower after is long and quiet, you spend a good portion letting the water run down your body to soothe your tense muscles. You don't play any music or hum anything. You’re barely thinking. Your only goal is to get in bed and pass out. And when you finish, that's exactly what you do. You snuggle into your covers and as soon as your head hits the pillow you're out.

Your eyelids slowly peel apart; heavy. Your entire body feels like a bag of rocks. You lie there, taking long, drawn-out blinks. There's a strange peacefulness in the air. None of the usual worry that fills your head, no noise besides your soft breaths, and the sweet song of the birds outside. You prop yourself up, reaching out to your bedside table to grab your phone. With a click your phone turns on, the sudden light blinds you. Blinking away the blurriness, your eyes begin to focus on the big white numbers: 11:25

You stumble out of the comfort of your bed. You have five minutes to get ready and head out the door. Running to your dresser, you pull out some clothes to wear. How you manage the sleep through your numerous alarms was beyond you, but nevertheless that didn't turn back time. You shuffle into your bra, throw the shirt over your head, and jump into a pair of pants. You're able to get the important parts of your morning routine done. Besides a few things like washing your face and properly brushing your hair. Giving yourself a once-over, you decide you don't look too bad. Just a little lazier than normal but casual enough. Sighing, you depart to class.

Standing in front of the door, you take a deep breath, straighten your back. You can already see his face, his mouth pressed into a hard line. A flicker of disappointment in his eyes. You knock on the door, and wait for it to open. When you hear a soft click, you push the door open, hurrying to your seat. When you sit down, you glance at him and he's already looking at you. Face devoid of any signs of what he's feeling. You pluck the needed supplies out of your bag, and he continues the lesson.

The class goes excruciatingly slow. Focusing seems near impossible, so you resort to scribbling down anything you deem important without actually listening to what he's saying. Which you can only hope doesn't bite you in the ass too much in the future. The class comes to a close, and before you can even think about leaving he's calling your name. You wince, forcing yourself to walk to his desk. He's definitely gonna tear a chunk out of you.

“Sir?” You mutter, ashamed.

“You were late,” he states, plain and simple. His words linger heavily in the air.

“I, um, slept in. I apologize, it was a mistake on my part.” You sputter, fidgeting with the strap of your bag. He lifted his head, eyes piercing into you. Your mouth squeezes shut.

“you slept in,” he echoes, empty. With a stern tone, he adds, “Excuses will not be tolerated, especially after I gave an explicit warning to get yourself together.”

You feel queasy, like your stomach rolling in on itself. You don't know what to say. Your heartbeat pounds in your head, rattles your ribcage, reverberating through your entire body. You don't know what to do that doesn't make you seem more of a fool than you already are. So you say the only thing that's worked for you so far.

“I know, sir. I am truly sorry.”

“Indeed you are,” he purrs as inches closer to you, fingertips dragging against his desk. His intense eye contact frightens you, makes you feel like he'd put a giant red target on you: open prey. A strange, uncomfortable heat flushing your body, feels akin to little fires starting from the tips of your fingers. He stops in front of you, closer than you would deem comfortable, but you couldn't move— something willing you to stay right where you are. A need.

You feel trapped, or rather, you're paralyzed. Even though there's nothing constraining you, and all you have to do is walk out the room. You can't move; his eyes immobilize you, demanding that you stay. Reluctantly, you obey. He settles a hand on your shoulder, “yet, you're not sorry enough to listen.” Before you can defend yourself, his hand slowly starts traveling up, gently wrapping around your neck. You notice, but oddly enough, you choose not to question it. “So, I must ask, what's distracting you? And there's no need for any falsities, my dear.”

You freeze, eyes wide. Dumb and glassy, fawn-like. “it’s- it's really not important, and I promise that I'll straighten out my behavior. It's been a rough week.” you murmur, the tips of your ears burning.

He frowns, hand flexing around your neck. You don't know if it was intentional, but it gets his point across all the same. “Like I said, there's no reason for further deception.”

Sucking in a deep breath and closing your eyes, you mentally agree he's right and getting it off your chest could probably do you some good. “It's you. You're my problem– or my distraction, in your words.”

He doesn't look fazed. In fact, he looks like he knew before you even opened your mouth. He looked like he could tell you every thought you had verbatim. After a moment of silence, he inquires, “how long?”

Innocuous, but still you shy away from him. Your mouth squeezes shut, and your head is about to turn to the side, but he's capturing your face in his hand— forcing you to look at him. His grip is firm, nails lightly digging into the fat of your cheeks.

“since the, um, first day” you murmur, skittish.

He gives a slight nod. He knew you were attracted to him, but he had ignored it. Flicking off your open desire as a fleeting crush. That, like the other girls, you'd move on. Unfortunately for the two of you, you never did. But day after day of seeing the desperation mixed with adoration swirling around in your big, bright doe eyes, even though he would never speak it aloud, stirred something in him. And now, you’re in front of him with your heart in your hands. that pathetic, helpless look on your pretty face. it set something off within him, a spark of heat he couldn't ignore.

“Is that so…” he responds, casually. Offhandedly, even. He’s pensive, looking at you with a blank face. He’s always withdrawn, always hard to read. You never can guess what's going on in that head of his, and that was something you admired. But right now, you wished you could crack open his skull and hear his thoughts for yourself.

The tension is tangible, turning the air thick. You wish he would do anything to rid you of this horrible ache in your chest. Shoo away the sinking pit in your stomach that grows the more his silence drags on.

“Do something,” you whisper. You don't know what to expect. You can't begin to predict what he'll do with your confession, but you figure he'll send you off with a broken heart and your tail tucked between your legs.

His face scrunched up, and then it straightened out. turning eerily calm with a strange sense of resolve. unceremoniously, his mouth crashes into yours. hungry and ravenous. For a second, you didn't reciprocate. you were stupefied by his forwardness. you had expected many things but not a kiss. After gaining your bearings, you carefully carefully began to kiss back, following the pace he had set. His teeth sink into your bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood. you whimper, and he lets out a low groan, lapping away the metallic liquid.

your heart hammered in the confines of your chest. you were high off the taste of him. a mixture of mint and nicotine. you wanted more, you wanted everything he was willing to dish out. your hands gripped at the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer. it was so surreal— his warmth, his scent, his lips on yours. it was something you couldn't let fall through your fingers. Then without pulling away, he’s spinning you around, backing you up until you're perched on the edge of his desk.

Your mind is misty. your vision blurs at the edges like a gossamer film is covering it. If it's from the lack of oxygen, or how incredibly unreal the situation is still impossible to ascertain. He pulls away to attach himself to your neck, leaving feverish open mouth kisses on your neck. You can feel him inhaling against your skin, breathing you in. Without warning, he digs his teeth into the thin skin between the junction of your neck and shoulder.

He laves his tongue over the indents left behind, and you take it as a silent apology. James squeezes your thigh, massaging it. You’re soft to the touch, pliant. Almost pillowy. His hand snakes down, down, down. Slipping into your pants, past the band of your panties. His fingers brush against your sensitive clit, and you spread your legs further to give him more room. You're leaking over the pads of his fingers, and he dips lower, collecting it. He smears your wetness on your aching bud in tight, deliberate circles. You let out soft pants, rolling your hips against him, desperate for more contact.

“More,” you whine. A small pout tugging at your plump lips.

“you want more, hm? Such a greedy little thing you are,” he croons, giving your clit a mean pinch. It yanks a squeal out of you. The melange of pain and pleasure confuses you, entices you. You give him a meek nod tugging your bottom lip between your teeth. He plunges two fingers in your needy cunt, and your back curves. He hums, pumping his fingers into you with a steady pace. He rolls your aching nub beneath his thumb. It's methodical, automatic. Downright robotic the way he splits you apart on his nimble fingers. He touches you like he's known you for an entire lifetime, strumming your chords like he knows exactly what to do to make you cry out.

His fingers are long, slender, and so, so pretty. And god does he know how to use them. With pinpoint precision, he's curling his fingers inside of you, pressing that spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling into your skull. You're gushing around him, and the squelch of it is obscene. It's embarrassing how you fall apart merely from his deft fingers. Nonsensical babbles fall from your mouth, too high off pleasure to make sense, but he doesn't seem to mind. Soon, a coil begins to tighten in your groin. A buzzing heat in your lower region. It's undeniable, inescapable.

“M gonna cum, don't stop– please, please, please.” You babble, your fingers gripping for purchase on his desk.

Frissions of pleasure shoot through your body like lightning. Your mouth falls agape, and you tilt your head back. The coil snaps, and you quickly begin to unravel around his fingers. He eases you through it, doesn't stop until you've stopped trembling, and then he's sliding you off the desk. He turns you around, and places a sizable hand on your back, bending you over the table. He hastily tugs your pants down, leaving them bunched up at your mid-thigh.

You feel the tip of his cock probe your entrance. Nervous, you press your warm face against the varnished wood, letting a wave of relief wash over you from its coldness. He doesn't give you time to prepare before he's bottoming out. The stretch burns, a dull incessant ache. You don't realize you're gritting your teeth until the feeling ebbs and shifts into velvety pleasure. To your surprise, his thrusts are a measured pace, rhythmic. Maybe he was taking mercy on you, but he quickly loses the pace for something rougher. Fast and hard, thrusts that jolt you forward, edge of the desk biting into your hips.

“is this what you wanted? to be bent over my desk like the needy little harlot you are.” you let out a high pitched whine at that, cunt fluttering around his cock. he was so crude, so incredibly mean, but he was right. he's so right that it's embarrassing.

you feel a vascular hand wrap around your neck, tugging you into an arch. “say it, tell me this is what you wanted,” he grunts, hips snapping hard against yours, it was downright painful.

“this is what I wanted,” you cry out, nodding your head. “good girl,” he utters, his tone ominously dark. it sent chills racing down your spine. his other hand wraps around your neck, and he begins to squeeze. at first, it's harmless, it's not tight enough to do damage, just applying pressure. it wasn't until he didn't stop squeezing that you started to panic. eyes going wide and glassy, your hands tried to peel his hands away to no avail. so you tried to scratch at them, in hopes that he'd finally pull away. but he didn't budge. your lungs were starting to burn, your thoughts getting increasingly fuzzy.

despite all of this, he didn't stop his ruthless thrusting. your cunt clamped down on his cock, squeezing him for all that he's worth. your vision starts to blur, everything begins melting together. your hands drop back down to the desk, and you can feel yourself going limp in his hold. you couldn't tell if you were simply going to pass out, or if you close your eyes you're going to die, but you didn't want to find out.

a dribble of drool slinks down your chin. your head is throbbing. there's a dull ringing in your ears, and it's becoming harder to keep yourself awake or alive. feeling your eyes closing on their own, you felt stinging tears rushing down your cheeks. then, you felt it, a sudden warmth in your lower region. that familiar ache in your womb. a few more harsh thrusts, and you were leaking all over his cock. he followed suit, thick ropes of cum fill you up soon after. thankfully, he let go. you thought he was going to kill you for a second.

gasping, you lurched forward, letting yourself rest on the desk. your head was spinning and your legs felt like jello. you didn't speak, just laid there. It takes you a minute to collect yourself. Especially after fearing for your life. You were pretty sure he was going to kill you. He pulls out of your wordlessly, slipping his cock back in his pants. Once you convince yourself that you're okay, you pull up your pants. The feeling of his cum gushing out of you is kinda gross but you can deal. You're going straight home anyway so you can wash it off when you get there.

He doesn't say anything until you're walking away, "I hope to see you again tomorrow. We still have much to improve after class."

The implications are enough to have you red-faced and very excited for the day to come. You don't know why you're still fooling around with him. Despite the fact that he may be dangerous. It entices you further like the dumb little girl you are. So, like an idiot, you give a coy smile over your shoulder, "yes, Mr. March. I'll be there."

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Lost in the Woods (Werewolf!BakuKiri x Black!Plus-Sized!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

"You scared now, baby?"

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Kirishima Ejirou x Black!Plus-sized!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which you get lost on your way home one night while coming back from a party and end up straight in the jaws of two strange yet sexy men who you get the feeling aren't quite human.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Reader is Black, Fem & Plus-Sized; Reader is Drunk; Monster Fucking; Coercion; Dubcon; Rape (to be safe); Foreplay; Biting; Mild Degradation; Mutual Oral; Double Blowjob; Double Cunnilingus/Analingus; Big Dicks/Knots; Knotting; Unprotected PIV Sex; Doggystyle; Cowgirl; Unprotected Creampies; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: Happy Halloween, y'all!! 🎃🎃 Enjoy!! -Jazz

*******

It has gotten darker outside. Way darker than it usually is around this time in the fall.

You walk along the trail in your fake cat ears leading to your co-worker's rented cabin deep in the woods, clutching your leather jacket closer to your plump frame and tasting your third drink on your tongue. You're still not sure what's in it, but you can taste the vodka and the fruity juice flavors with every sip you've taken since you've gotten to the party.

You originally were supposed to stay at the party for only an hour, but that turned into four. Four hours of watching your bestie shake her ass in her ladybug costume and dealing with your coworker and the host of the party flirt with you. Though Denki Kaminari is cute and loaded from his rich parents, he also is a huge slut.

He has what you call "community dick". The guy gets around to almost every girl in your office, minus you, of course. He's been trying which is why he invited you to his Halloween party, but you aren't interested. You thought the man was going to cry earlier when he saw you put on your jacket and head to the door.

Aww, you're leavin'?" he asked in his makeshift toga and leaf headpiece. He was supposed to be a Greek God. "But I'm about to start the competition and announce the winners!"

"I know, but I'm really tired and it's really dark out there," you sighed, trying to seem like you're apologetic.

"You sure you wanna drive?" he asked, sounding concerned. "Didn't you drink tonight?" You shook your head, your hand moving to grasp the doorknob behind you. "I didn't drive here. I took an Uber."

"You don't need to take no Uber, sweetheart," he tutted. "Not when you've got a personal chauffeur right here! Lemme drive you home. I promise that my ride is faster." He smiled big, confident, seductive smile at you that you're sure gets all the ladies' pussies wet, but you weren't swayed.

You gave him a small smile, desperate to leave. The music was too loud and your social battery was running way low. "That's very sweet of you, Denki, but I'm good. I'm gonna wait in the driveway."

Denki's eyes ticked outside the window where the woods lay in wait for you. "Well, my house is surrounded by woods. You sure you wanna walk alone out there? Wouldn't want all the creepy-crawlies and freaks to get you." He smirked down at you, cocking his head to the side."Lemme walk you," he whispered. "It would at least make me feel better. Plus, I'm great company."

He gave you that same seductive smirk as he leaned in, no doubt attempting to corner you against the door. You began to twist the knob, opening it in preparation to run out and escape his tricks."Thank you, but–"

"Heeey, girl," Mina, your coworker and bestie, sing-songed. She inserted herself right between you and Denki, drunk and a major cockblock (and your savior). "You havin' fun?" She side-eyed Denki who gave her a sharp glare before slinking off to attend to two of his guests who were about to fight over the last mini-pumpkin cupcake at the snack table.

"Yeah, but it's getting dark out there," you pointed out, relieved that Denki left. "Shouldn't we be heading home soon?"

"Go home?" Mina scoffed. "Denki said we're all welcome here! He cleaned out his five guest rooms upstairs just for us...or rather, for you." She giggled as you rolled your eyes. "You know, he's hoping you'll stay the night."

"Yeah, I know," you muttered. "But it ain't gonna happen. Denki gets around too much."

"So?" Mina scoffed. "I've heard he's good! Plus, it's not like you're looking for a forever. It's just a one-night thing you clear your head and get you some dick."

Mina is so convinced that you need to start dating if not having meaningless sex with coworkers if not men at bars, clubs, or online (which is hella dangerous). To her, you could use the release to ease your stress from your job and life, but in your eyes, you're more than happy using your fingers and toys to get that release. However, you would be lying if you said that you didn't want someone to break you off, but so far, you haven't found a man who could do so for you.

"I'm fine, Mina, really," you chuckled. "I know you think that I need some dick to ease my stress at work, but I can handle myself just fine." Mina didn't look too happy with that but didn't push it. "Whatever," she sighed. "But at least stay for the costume competition. You'll get to see me win for my super-cute costume!"

"Sorry, hon," you giggled, playing with her fake antenna, "but the dark isn't gonna wait for that. You know how I feel about traveling in the dark anyway. I'm just gonna bounce and call you when I get home."

At this, Mina grew worried. "You sure you don't want me to walk you?" But you shook your head, not wanting to interrupt her fun. "I'll be fine, Mina," you reassured her. "I'm just gonna wait in the driveway for my ride. You stay and have fun."

You wish you had just stayed in Denki's driveway like you said you would. You wish you never decided to venture along the trail to find the road. It's too dark, and you're too tipsy. You're not at all dressed for a walk, such as this one either–a mini dress that hugs your plump, chunky body, a leather jacket, fake cat ears, and black pumps that you try to walk slowly in to avoid breaking your ankle.

Plus, and this is the main reason, the forest is starting to creep you out. It is quiet. Too quiet, as if something is causing this eery silence. The woods trail is rather bumpy, and the trees seem taller than before when you came here four hours ago. They are bare of any leaves and their branches stretch towards the sky like long, crooked fingers. Speaking of the sky, there isn't a single star in it–just the large, white moon that looks almost ominous behind the clouds floating among the inky, black canvas.

You thought that making it to the road would make it easier for the Uber driver to find you when you ordered, but you can't even find the road. You ordered the ride before leaving Denki's party, hoping to make it there before the driver could call.

But now you're realizing that you should've just called before. 'You stupid bitch,' you think. So you call your driver now as you keep a hand out to grab onto trees for balance as you hike down the trail. The driver answers after three rings, but they sound grainy and broken.

"Hello?" you say into the phone.

"Hi, is this Y/N?" the Uber driver asks. "I was just going to call you. I'm here."

"Shit, you are?" you reply, your stomach leaping in fear. You only have five minutes to reach them and you still don't know where you're going! "H-Hang on, I'm comin' now. I can't find the road."

"I'm sorry, I'm having trouble hearing you," the driver says. "I can't seem to find a way through these trees."

"It's through the woods!" you call. "There's a trail that leads to the address. If you follow it, you'll find me there." Silence follows and you panic, thinking they hung up. "Hello, you there?" you call.

"Hello?" the driver asks. "Y/N, are you still there?"

"Yes!" you call. "Hang on, I'll come to you!" You waddle and stumble along the trail, pushing a long branch out of your face. "Can you still hear me?" Silence. "Hello?" you call into the phone. "Helloooo?"

Still nothing. You look at your phone to find that the call has dropped. "Goddammit!" you groan. Of course, this happens to you. Realizing that you're out of luck and have no clue where you are, you dial Mina's number and turn back around where you came.

Four rings go by before she picks up and you're hit by a barrage of sounds–music, yelling, and laughter. "Hello?" she shouts into your ear. "Mina, I'm coming back," you sigh. "My Uber driver can't find me and–"

"Y/N, you're breaking up!" she shouts. "I can't hear you!" Her voice begins to sound grainy and chopped, her words cutting off. "Mina?" you ask. "Mina, can you hear me?" Nothing but silence follows.

You look at the four bars on your screen, finding them to be completely gone. No reception. "Fuck!" you groan. Tonight is now a complete shit show. The beginning of a horror film. However, if keep on the trail to Denki's cabin, knowing you have a better chance of calling another ride there.

But then you get lost. Very, very lost. "What the fuck?" you whisper to yourself. "Where's the cabin?"

What looks like the trail to Denki's cabin turns out not to be...or is it? You can't quite decipher the trail anymore. Or where you are. Everything looks the same–the same leafless trees and brush stretching around you, making you feel suffocated; the same dark shadows; the same dirt trail that leads to nowhere.

Even worse is the darkness. It has gotten increasingly worse since you've been out here, stumbling about. You can barely make out the trees now, bumping into a few as you walk. The quietness only makes you feel more paranoid. All that you hear is the lone hooting of an owl and your heavy breathing in your ears. It's uncomfortable. Unsettling. Like something is lurking among the woods, ready to pounce at the perfect opportunity.

You go for your phone to switch on the flashlight only to find your phone on 20%. You growl in frustration, stomping your heel. How did you forget to charge it before you left Denki's party? "God, can this get any worse for me?" you sigh to the heavens.

And as if answering you, a droplet falls from the cloudy night sky onto your forehead. You gasp at the sudden feeling, pressing your hand to your forehead to feel the wetness. And then another one falls. And another. Soon, you are caught in a downpour. "Shit!" you squeal and take off your heels before immediately start running to avoid the rain.

You don't know where you're going but you run anyway, desperate to find the road or someone who may be out here to help you. Maybe one of Denki's guests from the party or a hiker. Maybe a camper. As you peel back tree branches and try to avoid pits of mud that have begun to churn from the rain, you finally find your light in the darkness.

Through the trees protrudes a cozy-looking house in a clearing, surrounded by a stack of logs for firewood and smelling of something spicy and warm. The windows are aglow which means someone is inside. Someone who can help you! "Oh, thank you, God," you sigh.

But as you go to run towards the house, you hit your foot on an overgrown tree root and go tumbling. With a shriek, you fall to your hands and knees, luckily not scraping them but staining them with dirt. Your heart lurches into your throat and you try to calm yourself. "Relax," you whisper. "You're okay. There's no one out there to hurt you."

"Well, look who stumbled along the trail," a teasing voice says. "Literally." Immediately, you look up and scurry away from the two figures standing above you. They are big. Huge, even. All lean muscle, broad arms, and thick, toned thighs and calves that could crush watermelons under their clothes.

They're not too bad looking either. The one on the right has a platinum blonde undercut, a sharp jaw any model would be jealous of, an eyebrow piercing, and a lip ring that glints in the moonlight in his plump, pink bottom lip. His vermillion eyes feel like hot rays on you as he glares down at you. "Who the fuck are you?" he growls. "Why are you here?"

You try to find the words to speak, but you're still too in shock from what has happened to you and the two strangers standing before you. "I-I..."

"Chill out, Katsuki," the one on the left chuckles. He is bigger than the blonde with long, red locks of hair, tattoos, and a toothy smile that unnerves you slightly. "You alright, miss? Sorry about him. He's territorial of our home is all."

He offers his hand to you, and though you hesitate at first, you take it and let him pick you up off the ground. "That's your house?" you ask, nodding at the cozy home. Katsuki glares suspiciously at you. "Why? You lookin' to break in or something?"

"N-No," you stutter, intimidated by his roughness. "I came from a party up the way and I couldn't find the road to catch my Uber."

Both men look at each other, realizing your story. "Oh," the redhead says, that grin still on his face. "You're lost. Gone too deep down the rabbit hole?" You don't answer, unnerved by his teasing and their presence.

"So that explains why a pretty thing like you is out here alone," the redhead comments, crossing his buff arms over his broad chest. "So no one walked you out here?"

You shake your head, hugging your jacket to your soaked body. "I told them not to," you admit, feeling guilty. "I thought this wasn't going to happen."

"Well, no one expects to get lost in the woods," the redhead chuckles. "But don't fret. You've got us and we know these woods like the back of our hands. It's not safe to be out here alone on such a dark night though. It could be...dangerous."

Something in the way he says this and the glint in his eyes makes you uncomfortable. There is something off about these two, you realize. Something ferocious. Predatory, like an animal. "I-I just need wifi," you stutter. "Or a phone to call my friend and tell her I'm here."

"You need more than that, sweetness," the redhead chuckles. "You're soaked to the bone! Guess you got caught in the rain." He nods over to their home. "Come on in and we'll help you out. We'll get you a towel and a phone."

"Really?" you ask, shocked by their kindness...and also wary. "Of course!" he laughs, his crimson eyes kind. "It wouldn't be many of us to have a beautiful lady out here alone and lost. Ain't that right, Katsuki?"

The blonde says nothing but keeps his eyes pinned on you. "Oh, I never introduced us!" the redhead tuts. "That's so rude of me. I'm Kirishima, but just call me Kiri. This is Katsuki. Say hi, 'Suki." Once again, Katsuki doesn't speak. "And you are?"

"Y/N," you softly answer. "Thanks for helping me out, but I just need a phone or a wifi password."

"What, you scared to come in or something?" Katsuki snarls. "You have no problem walking around out there in that." He nods at your mini dress and cat ears, making you flush.

"Leave her alone, Katsuki," Kiri growls. "I happen to think she looks amazing." He gives you a wink that makes your stomach flip. "I know it's weird since we're strangers and all, but we'd really feel bad if you just waited out here. We've got spicy ramen cookin' in there too, if you want any."

You should say no. You should firmly stand your ground and tell them to just give you a phone. But against your better judgment and taken by their strange attractiveness, you give in. "Okay," you sigh.

They guide you to their home and get you inside just as the rain becomes a thick sheet. Their home is cozy, warm, and has a roaring, brick fireplace. The walls are made of thick logs packed tight together and the furniture is covered in throw pillows and comfy blankets. Kiri leads you over to the couch and hands you a blanket to wrap yourself in while Katsuki heads to the kitchen. "Take a seat and we'll get you set up," he says. "And get comfortable. That's what the couch is here for." 

He smiles at you before heading off to gather some things for you. You sit there, shivering under the blanket after taking off your coat, doing your best to relax. But you can’t. Not when you’re in two strangers’ home with your phone halfway to death and in the pouring rain. There has to be a phone you can get to. You begin to look around for a phone, but are interrupted the Kiri returns with a towel and a tray holding a steaming bowl for you. "Here's a towel for you," he coos. "And a pipin' hot bowl of ramen if you're hungry. I'm sure you worked up an appetite at that party and walking through the woods." 

He hands you the towel and carefully places the tray down next to you. ”Thanks," you mutter. Kiri gives you your space and sits in a chair across the room, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. He watches you very carefully as you slowly slurp down the ramen, clearing your throat from the spiciness. He chuckles under his breath whenever you do. 

Katsuki then returns to the living room, his shoes off and clad in a V-neck and jeans that sit low on his hips. "Landline's down," he passively says. "The rain must've fucked it up." Kiri sighs while your stomach flips in panic. "Aw, man," he sighs. "Any luck with your phone, Y/N?" Something about the way he says his name in that raspy voice sends shivers down your spine. 

You ignore them and check your phone, finding it to be on 10% and the bars still low. You shake your head, ready to scream in frustration. "Guess you're stuck with us for a minute then,” Kiri says, sounding apologetic. Katsuki doesn’t say anything at all, still standing in the middle of the living room, adding to the tension you feel. “Does…this happen often?" you carefully question. 

Kiri shrugs, leaning back in his chair. ”Sometimes, if the rain is real bad. It's just one of the things about living away from the city in the middle of the forest." He gives you a humored grin, a twinkle in his crimson eyes. "You're probably wondering why we're out here, hm? Well, city life just got to be too much. Sometimes you just wanna be wild and free. Feral, if you will." 

His smile turns sharper and almost just as feral as he describes. You don’t even look at Katsuki. You’re too afraid too. Instead, you look down at your feet and squeeze the blanket closer to your form. "So what about you?" Kiri asks. "What's your life like outside of these woods?" 

‘Lie!’ your brain tells you. ‘Don’t tell them anything about you!’ But you also don’t know if they’ll know you’re lying. So you tell the truth, but keep things as tame and vague as possible. ”Well, I live in the city and I work in an office. I just came from a work costume party that my coworker was throwing." Kiri nods, his eyes scaling over your fake cat ears and legs poking out of the blanket. ”Well, you've dressed the part for it." 

"And decided to come in here to show us," Bakugou growls, speaking for the first time in minutes. His hot gaze runs over you as if he can see right through the thick blanket. "Ignore him," Kiri says, rolling his eyes. "He thinks you look fantastic, as do I. I'm sure all your coworkers of the opposite sex were re all over you tonight." 

You’re not sure if he says this to comfort or relax you, but it doesn’t do either. Your body is wound up like a drum and you feel hot with discomfort. ”T-Thank you," you whisper. "No, I...I didn't want that. I don't date my coworkers...or hook up with them." 

"That's a good idea," Kiri replies, nodding in approval. "It often makes your job complicated. But it relieves the tension, don't you think?" He pauses, letting the pitter-patter of the rain fill the silence. ”Eases the stress?" he suggests, smirking at you. 

Katsuki’s eyes find you. They are sharp and intense, glaring at your very soul. You find it hard to breathe and have to push away the ramen because your stomach is flipping too much. You need to get out of here now. So you stand, letting the blanket fall, and grab your jacket. 

"You okay, cutie?" Kiri questions, sounding worried. 

"The rain eased up," you huff. And it has––you can’t hear the harshness of it anymore. It is softer which means it’s easier to travel through now. ”And it's getting late. I-I think I should leave." 

Kiri’s brows knit in confusion. ”Didn't you wanna call someone first?" he asks. "And why leave if you got lost before?"

"Don't feed into that bullshit she's spouting," Bakugou scoffs. "It's just a cover to hide how scared she is of us." You stand rigidly near the couch, your eyes flicking to the door across the way. Maybe you can run. 

”Is that true, sweetie?" Kiri asks almost sweetly. "Are you afraid of us?" They both stare at you, waiting for your answer. Your heart thunders wildly in your chest, your blood pumping in your ears. You don’t know how to get out of this or what to say. "I…I…” Your brain is moving slow like it’s moving through sludge, your thoughts jumbled. 

"'Cause you should," Kiri finishes, his tone dark and low. "You should be very afraid. But we won't hurt you...unless you want us to." 

He stands up from his chair, making your fight or flight kick in. Both men stand before you now, not touching you but also giving you the feeling that they could stop you at any point from leaving. You can’t escape now. Their predatory gazes stop you from moving entirely. 

"Why leave when you know you're curious?" Katsuki asks, raising his pierced eyebrow. "Or should I say horny?" You blink at him, confused and taken aback. ”W-What?” you squeak. 

"Don't play the fuckin' fool, girl," he growls. "Why else did you come up in our home when you don't even know us? And don't say it was because of our hospitality or for our wifi." 

Now, you begin creeping towards the door. Their eyes follow you, but then don’t stop you. ”I don't know what you mean," you whimper fearfully. "Please, I just wanna leave." You slam your back against the door and try the knob, but it doesn’t budge. Locked. You’re completely trapped. 

Katsuki and Kiri stand side by side now, watching you, eating you up with their eyes. ”We don't want you to leave," Kiri softly growls, but his voice doesn't sound human. It is deep and growly as if he is an animal. He blinks and his eyes turn from a sharp red to an eery, golden iris. Katsuki’s eyes do the same, shifting from human to not at all. 

You try the knob again, now panicking. Even though you know it’s locked, you try again and again, pathetically so. But you don't take your eyes off of the two men in front of you…and you wish you did. You really wish you never witnessed what you are right now.

Instantly, the two men grow taller and bigger, their muscles widening and growing thicker. Their teeth grow sharp like pointed fangs and their nails turn into claws that protrude from fine-haired, paw-like fingers and toes. The hair on their heads grows wild and untamed, just as their eyes do as they rake them over your body. Fluffy ears and tails protrude from their heads and backsides, indicating that they are, indeed, not human. 

As their bodies grow and their muscles swell, their clothes rip to shreds and fall from their bodies, leaving them completely naked. Your eyes instantly fall to their shafts swinging between their thighs, your mouth falling open. They are huge. Thick. Long. You know they would reach your stomach if they got inside you. You can already feel the lockjaw. you’ve never been so scared of dick before. 

Katsuki smirks down at you. ”You scared now, baby?" he asks in a low growl. 

You press yourself against the door, your heart hammering and breath coming out in panicked huffs. "What the fuck are you two?” you whisper. 

"Two men who are gonna give you what you really want," Katsuki replies. "And you're gonna give us what we want too." They then crouch down and begin to creep toward you on all fours, their eyes still on you. Tears begin to prick at your eyes as you grapple with the doorknob, begging someone, anyone, to save you. ”Please,” you whisper. 

That is all you can say as they creep closer and closer to you. Katsuki takes one side while Kiri takes the other, both standing up and towering of you. "You’re too deep in the forest now, baby," Kiri whispers, a smirk on his face. "Wouldn’t be wise to wander around in the dark by yourself at this hour anyway. Too many predators.” 

One of his huge, clawed hands brushes a hair out of your face. You flinch away from him.

"It’s better to just stay with us. You can kill two birds with one stone: stay here for our protection and take responsibility for your slutty little actions.” He says it so sweetly that you almost miss the last part. 

“What?” you squeak. ”I-I’m not a–" 

"The fuck you aren't," Katsuki snarls. He pokes at your cat ears, nearly knocking them off of your head. He then moves closer to you, moving so close that you can feel the heat radiating off of his big body. “Comin’ in here dressed like that...smelling so fuckin' good...you're practically handing yourself over to us on a silver platter." 

"Mmm, I like that," Kiri hums, tweaking your cat ears as he presses into you from behind. "I like my toys eager. Vulnerable. And so, so easy to please." You are now sandwiched between the two werewolves, trapped. You can feel yourself shivering and trembling between them, your purse still in your hands.

Katsuki presses his nose into your hair and inhales deeply, a deep growl vibrating through his chest. ”God, I just wanna rip off her clothes and pound her right here," he growls. You nearly gasp at his vulgar words. ”Patience, ‘Suki,” Kiri says. “We have to ease her into it." His hand comes across your neck to turn your head towards him. ”Your lips are trembling, baby," he coos. "I know how to ease those nerves." 

Then his lips are on yours, giving you a slow yet hungry kiss that takes the air right out of your lungs. He played with you during, pulling away to lick and lightly nibble at your bottom lip with his pointed canines, relishing the tiny gasps you let out with every new sensation. He then pulls away, lightly pulling at your bottom lip until it pops back into place. ”How was that?” he asks, his voice husky and lustful. “Exactly what you needed?" 

You don’t want to admit it, but it is. That kiss was hot, passionate, and lustful. It gave you butterflies and made your pussy wet. You can feel yourself gushing now despite your situation and you feel like a disgusting, nasty little whore for even feeling like this. Katsuki lets out a deep, rumbling growl from in front of you, his hands sliding up your thick hips. "Fuck, I can’t take this waiting game anymore," he impatiently growls. "Keep teasing her while I get these clothes off of her. I need to see her without this fuckin’ thing.”  

Kiri chuckles as he begins to kiss and suckle on your neck, leaving hickeys in his wake. "Doesn’t look like you need to do much, Kats. Just tear off that dress and we’ll get right to the main course." His eyes rake over your body and your little black dress, his hands sneaking under to toy with your thick thighs. ”Mmm, such a naughty outfit. She definitely came here for a reason.” He smirks at you, his gaze hooded and devious. "Let us give it to you then." 

"No, wait!" you protest. 

But it’s too late. Katsuki is already tearing the little black piece of fabric off of your body, revealing all of you to him and Kiri––your pudgy stomach; your jiggly thighs and thick ass ridden in stretch marks and cellulite; your juicy breasts held up by your laced push-up bra. Both werewolves stare at you like you’re a full course meal, practically salivating at the mouth at the sight of you. "Aww, that little yelp was so cute!” Kiri giggles, his hands still wandering among your thighs and backside. “Was that your favorite dress, sweetheart?" 

Katsuki could give less of a shit as he kneels before you. ”She shouldn’t have worn it then. I hope you hate these stockings you’re wearing ‘cause they’re goin’ too." He then shreds your nylon stockings to pieces while Kiri’s fingers curl below between your thighs. “And these little panties. Doesn’t look like you’ll need ‘em anymore." 

Before you can take a breath, one clawed finger cut at both straps of your panties. Katsuki does the same to your bra, cutting the straps off your shoulders so they fall off of your breasts. Each piece of undergarments fall off of you, leaving your breasts and pussy exposed. You whimper in protest, moving to cover yourself, but Katsuki slaps your hands away. “No,” he sternly says. “Don’t you dare hide yourself from us.” 

“You’re absolutely gorgeous, baby,” Kiri sighs, nuzzling his nose into your neck. “So fuckin’ sexy.” Katsuki’s mouth attaches to your nipples, sucking hungrily on the hardened peaks as his hands grope and mold your breasts. You instinctively your head back, your eyes fluttering closed at the sensations. Here you are, standing naked in your heels in front of two total strangers who may or may not eat you or let you leave. 

‘How the fuck did this happen?’ you think. 

This is all you can think when the wolves stop their ministrations and push you down on the couch. They stand over you, each muscle and vein of their thick cocks glinting in the moonlight that has appeared through the window. The rain has stopped. "Bend over the couch," Katsuki demands. "We wanna taste how wet you are, and don't try to play like you're not." 

Though you’re trembling, you do as he says and bend over the couch, presenting your ass to the strange men. You hear them growl and groan in arousal at the sight of you. "Oooh, you're right, 'Suki," Kiri cackles. "She is wet for us." You then feel his fangs drag across your asscheeks, emitting squeaks and moans of pleasure from your mouth. "And so responsive from these ass bites," he giggles. "Don't fret, cutie. We'll take good care of this poor pussy." 

He bends down with Katsuki following suit, hypnotized by your sobbing, wet, brown cunt. He takes a finger and lightly glides it against your labia that hangs. You twitch pathetically at his touch, your toes curling. "Wanna share this kitty with me?" Kiri teasingly asks. 

”As long as I get to taste her, I could give less of a fuck,” Katsuki huffs. 

Then their mouths, tongues, and soft lips are on your pussy, slurping and sucking up everything you give them. As soon as their mouths touch you, your mouth falls open into an O and your eyes flutter shut. Their tongues slide through your walls to slurp at your pussy and their lips suckle gentle on your clit, sending shivers and shocks of pleasure throughout your body. 

“Shit,” you moan, gripping the back of the couch for dear life. You’ve never had someone eat your pussy so well before. Let alone two men! …Or two not-entirely-human men. They don’t just stay in one place either. They switch places, alternating between your pussy and your asshole. When Katsuki is busy tongue fucking your pussy and sucking on your clit, Kiri places his tongue all over your asshole, nipping and biting at your cheeks before dipping his tongue back between them. "You taste so good, kitty," he sighs. "We could eat you up." 

Katsuki growls in agreement, placing his hands on your hips as he devours your cunt. You can hardly speak. All that exits your mouth are moans, whines, and cries of pleasure that seem to explode out of you. The more their mouths move and their moans vibrate against your clit, the farther you’re taken to your orgasm. Soon, that knot in your core is tightening, threatening to snap, and your moans grow louder and more shrill. "Fuck!" you scream. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum! I'm about to cum!” 

Kiri repeatedly moans “uh-huh” into your pussy now, taking Katsuki’s spot while his blonde partner devours your ass. ”Fuckin’ do it," Katsuki growls. "Cum all over us, you little slut." Then you feel two fingers flicking at your clit and this is all it takes for you to finally explode all over the men devouring your pussy. 

When you cum, you cum hard. Actually, you damn well squirt all over the wolves’ faces as a chorus of moans and whimpers leave your mouth. You’re seeing stars and your head is clouded as you cum, your hands gripping the couch. Katsuki and Kiri excitedly and delightedly take what you give them, hungrily growling as they slurp up all of your squirt that drips down your asscrack and pussy. They clean you up until you’re twitching and sensitive, whimpering at the feeling of physical contact against your clit. 

Finally, they stop and let you breathe. You are sweaty, tired, and drained. And yet so, so satisfied. You’ve never cum so hard before. You tiredly turn your head up to the two men standing behind you, noticing them licking your juices off of their lips and fingers as if they can’t get enough of you. Katsuki then turns to you, his hand wrapped around his thick cock dripping pre for you. "You're not done yet, little slut," he huskily says. "Open your mouth for us. Wide.” 

Kiri stands beside him, also lazily fisting his cock with its angry-red tip dripping pre-cum for you. You don’t move from the couch and they don’t force you to. You’re too weak from your intense orgasm to do much except shift onto your knees on the couch and open your mouth as Katsuki demands. Kiri goes first, first tapping his head lightly on your tongue before sliding balls deep into your mouth. You try to accommodate to his size by stretching your jaw and breathing through your nose, but it’s hard at first. He’s just so big and thick! 

The redhead is less than quiet or subtle about how good your mouth feels as he begins to slowly fuck your throat. Lewd gagging and squelching noises escape your mouth as he does so, drool beginning to drip from your mouth. As he does, Katsuki fucks one of your hands, tiny grunts and groans leaving his lips as he watches you swallow Kiri’s cock. “That’s it, little kitty,” Kiri groans. “Open that throat for us. You’re such a good girl takin’ two big cocks at once.” 

A hand falls onto your scalp, stroking your hair. 

Then it’s Katsuki’s turn. He isn’t as nice or slow as Kiri. He is rough; hard; downright feral. He fucks your face like it’s his own personal fuck toy, making you gag and choke all over his dick. You do so to the best of your ability, your makeup running and cat ears askew. You stare up at him as he does as he pleases, getting an eyeful of his pelvis and toned stomach. “Don’t use no teeth either, slut,” he grunts. “If you do, you can make sure you’ll be punished for it.” 

Kiri chuckles as he fucks your free hand, holding onto your neck to give you support as Katsuki fucks your throat. “Have confidence in her, Kats. She’s been doin’ such a good job so far, fuuuuck…” His words turn into a moan and his eyes roll back as he continues to thrust into your hand like it’s your pussy. 

And they switch. And switch again. And again. They use your throat and hands like you’re nothing more than a cock sleeve to them. They’re own little toy. They fondle your breasts and lean down to smack your ass. They touch, squeeze, and stroke every part of you as they fuck your throat until it’s raw and your eyes are watery. Mascara drips down your face and your lipstick smudges until it is practically gone, instead all over Katsuki and Kiri’s cocks. 

Just as you feel like you can’t take much more, you feel a hand come behind your neck to grip your hair, pulling your head back to look into two golden irises. “You like this, don’t you?” Katsuki growls. “You like being used by us?” You slowly nod, still choking on cock. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, kitty cat. And stop suckin’ ‘cause I don’t want to cum down your throat.” 

He slides out of your mouth with a groan, his cock now sobbing wet with your spit. “Mmm, same here,” Kiri moans, sliding his dick out of your fist. “Her throat feels so damn good, but I wanna feel how tight her other hole is.” 

You gape at them, shook. They don’t seriously believe…but they can’t! You’re still too sensitive! And they’re just too big! You could barely fit them in your mouth! “W-Wait,” you stutter. “I don’t think–“ 

“Don’t be scared, cutie,” Kiri shushes you, pressing a finger to your lips. “We’ll prep you real good before we fuck you into the couch and you take our knots. Gotta make sure you’re soaked for us.” 

And they do. You have to hand it to them: they know how to treat a pussy. They once again spread your legs wide and eat your pussy until you cum again all over them, their tongues slurping up everything you give them. They take turns, Kiri holding your legs open by your ankles while Katsuki tongue fucks you, and vice versa. When your pussy is finally nice and slick, and twitching for your second orgasm, the moment of truth has finally come. 

Kiri goes first. He sits back on the couch, legs spread, and cock at attention for you. “Alright, baby girl,” he coos. He pats his lap, giving you a sexy, fanged smirk. “Come and sit right here. I’ll hold you up.” Though you’re nervous, you do as he says and position yourself above him. You place your hands securely on his shoulders and hover above his cock, biting your lip. 

Slowly, you begin to come down, Kiri’s hands on your hips to give you all the support you need. “That’s it,” he encourages, his body trembling with need. “Come down slowly on this dick. No need to rush.” Behind you, Katsuki growls impatiently, wet sounds filling your ears from him stroking his cock for you. “Ignore him,” Kiri whispers. “He’ll just have to wait.” 

You listen to him, not wanting to rush and hurt yourself. You take things as slowly as you can and breathe as you come down onto Kiri’s knotted cock. You both react immediately, him to the pleasure and you to the stretch. And fuck, is it a stretch! Kiri sounds the inches you take, face red and eyes clouded from the pleasure. “One,” he softly grunts. “Two…t-three…four…” 

He grips your hips tight as you slowly come down, your body shaking and gasps leaving your lips. “Almost there, cutie,” he coos. “Don't give up now. You’re being such a good slut for me and Katsuki.” He reaches down and rubs your clit for you, helping you become wetter to take his cock all the way. Though it helps, he still feels too big; too thick; too much. You’ve never felt so full. “F-Fuck!” you whine. “Too much! It’s too…much!” 

Even when you finally sit down onto his cock, it still feels like it’s too much. Before you realize it, you’ve taken the full twelve inches of his dick. “I told you you could do it,” he breathlessly chuckles. His hand comes down onto your asscheek, smacking it. “Now fuck this cock for me. Give Katsuki something to look at.” 

You start off slow, grinding your hips into him and rocking your clit against his pelvis. Then you begin to bounce once you’ve found your rhythm, causing your titties to bounce in his face and your ass to jiggle against his lap. The only coherent words that leave your lips are swears and of Kiri’s name as you bounce on his cock. You’ve never felt anything like this before. This feeling only becomes more intense when Kiri lifts you up by your ass and lifts his pelvis to fuck you from underneath you. 

His thrusts are slow but deliberate and intense, nailing your G-spot again and again. You wrap your arms around him tight and moan into his ear, unable to hold onto your sanity anymore. You then feel Katsuki push and grind his cock up against your ass for some relief, slowly becoming crazy with the thought of feeling you wrapped around him too. “C’mon, shitty hair,” he groans impatiently. “Fuck her faster. I’m tired of waiting to fill that hole too.” 

Kiri chuckles at his partner as he continues to fuck you jackhammer style. “Patience–fuck–, man,” he huffs. “She’s really–fuck, baby–loving this. Aren’t you, kitty?” He turns to you and presses an openmouthed kiss to your lips, his tongue swirling with yours. When he pulls away, a string of saliva connects to your bottom lips, making you even wetter. 

Eventually, he does begin to fuck you harder, holding your wrists together behind your back with one hand while his other palms at your ass. Wet sounds of his cock plunging in and out of your sobbing, wet pussy fill the air along with the sound of skin slapping against skin and your moans, huffs, and whines of pleasure. Before you can even realize it, your third orgasm of the night is arriving like a train in the night, headed all full speed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you scream. “Oh, my God, I’m gonna fuckin’ cum!” 

“Do it then,” Kiri grunts, still pounding into you like it’s the last time he’ll be able to do so. “Do it and take all of my cum, kitty cat. Deep, deep, inside you…” And then he finally does so, spraying your insides with his cum while you cream all over his cock, dripping down his balls. He cums with a mixture of growls and moans while you let out a loud, high whine that rips from your chest. He holds you down onto him, making you take his knot and all of his cum until he is finally drained of every ounce of it. “So much,” he sighs. “And you took all of it. Such a good girl.” 

He presses a kiss to your lips before lifting you off of him. His knotted cock is shining with your juices while your pussy leaks with his cum, so much so that it drips down your thighs. You are exhausted and winded, your body heaving and twitching from the roughness of his fucking. 

“My turn,” Katsuki grunts, already grabbing you and positioning you into all fours. You squeak, looking back at him in a panic. He rolls his eyes at you. “Relax, I’ll go slow first. I’m a werewolf, not a barbarian.” 

Before you can say anything more, he is sliding balls deep into your sensitive, sore, cum-filled pussy with all of the intention of making it even more sore and filling you up again. He begins to fuck you then, one hand dripping your breast while the other rests on your hip. Your mouth falls open as his pelvis bounces against your ass, his balls swinging against your clit. “Oh, my God,” you whine tearfully. “P-Please…t-too much! I’m s-so…so…” 

“Sensitive?” Katsuki cackles, licking his lips at how cute you are. Such an adorable, plump little slut getting fucked silly on his cock. “I know. That will make this even better. I can’t wait to make this pussy cum again.” He then goes a little faster, building up speed and enjoying the way your plump ass bounces and jiggles against his pelvis. “Can’t wait to feel you cream all over this knot, just the way a slut like you should.” 

And then he goes even faster. Harder. The man is practically railing you as he fucks you into the couch in front of Kiri. You lose the last bit of self control and sanity you have at this point, succumbing to the life of a cum slut for the werewolves. You’ve never been fucked so hard in your life. “Oh, my God!” you scream. “Oh, my God!” And at some point, you think you really see him. 

Kiri stands on his knees in front of you now, his semi-hard knot in your face. “You’re so loud, baby,” he chuckles. “Guess we need to plug up this hole too.” As your wobbly lips open, he plunges his cock into your mouth and begins to slide it against your tongue. “That’s it, take these cocks, kitty cat,” he grunts in time with Katsuki’s thrusts. “You’re doing such a good job being our little cum sleeve. Our little cockslut.” 

“That’s so fucking hot,” Katsuki growls, gripping your hips so hard that he may leave bruises along your skin. “If you’re gonna say shit like that then you’d better such that mouth for something else too.” Kiri smirks over at the blonde, lust in his eyes. “Well, since you’re suggesting…” 

Their moans silence for a moment, muffled by their wet-sounding, passionate kissing as they fuck your holes from both sides. This only makes you wetter and brings you closer to your fourth orgasm of the night. You know that after this, you can’t do another round. Tears of desperation prick your eyes as you begin to bounce yourself back onto Katsuki’s cock, needing to cum. “I’m gonna cum!” you whine around Kiri’s cock. “I’m gonna cum again! Please, please make me cum!” 

“Then admit it,” Katsuki growls. 

You look back at him and blink wildly, confused. “What?” 

“Admit that you love being yours. That you love being a cum slut for us.” His hand comes around your throat to squeeze, his eyes flashing. “Say it!” he demands, his voice coming out in a low growl. 

“I love it!” you desperately shout. “I love being a cum slut for you! Please, please, please make me cum and fill me up! I need you, daddies!” 

Katsuki and Kiri each share a look. A look that is possessive and wanton. A look that says, “Yeah…she’s definitely ours now.” “Those were the magic words, kitty cat,” Kiri coos, lifting your chin to peck your lips. “Now cum for us.” 

Katsuki begins to pound your pussy into the couch, ramming you so hard that your orgasm slams into you before your brain can process it. “Gonna cum, little kitty,” he growls. “Gonna fill you up! Fucking take it!” And you do. You have no choice. His orgasm is explosive and he cums with a growl-like roar, his cum filling you up as you cream all over his knot. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and a sob leaves your lips, all energy pulled from your body instantly. 

“Goood giiiirl,” Kiri coos, stroking your hair. “You took another load of cum just like that! Such a good fucking kitty!” He is so proud of you watching you shiver and shake all over Katsuki’s cock. Katsuki slowly pulls out, giving them both a look at the mixture of his and Kiri’s cum dripping out of your twitching pussy lips that they have fucked red. “Look at all of that,” Katsuki huffs, rolling his eyes. “Now we’ll have to clean the couch off.” 

Once he pulls out, you feel empty. And so, so tired. You can’t stop yourself from falling face first into the couch between them, feeling like you just ran a marathon around the world. 

“We’ll do that later,” Kiri sternly replies. His voice sounds muffled like he’s speaking underwater. “First we have to worry about our little kitty here.” You feel his breath fan your face and his hand gently caressing your cheek. “Y/N?” he whispers. “Can you hear us, baby?” 

You don’t know. You don’t know anything anymore. They fucked all logic out of you. All you want now is sleep. You want your bed. “Home,” you mumble. “Sleepy…Wanna…go home…” Kiri shushes you gently, stroking your hair away from your sweaty brow. “We’ll take you home, sugar,” he hushes you. “But let’s get you cleaned up first.” 

You then feel Katsuki scooping you up off of the couch, cradling you against his broad, toned chest. Some time later, you then feel warm water surrounding you from above and the wolves pressed against you as they wash your body. The scent of warm vanilla fills your nose and your fingers touch muscles as you lean against the wolves’ big bodies. 

Next, you feel Kiri’s arms around you this time as he carries you out of the shower and then soft bedsheets. You open your eyes slightly, barely slits, to see the men standing at the foot of the bed. Then suddenly, they change. Now they are full on furry, four-legged wolves, glowing eyes blinking at you in the dark bedroom. You don’t react at first, but when they start to surround the bed, you begin to whimper in fear. 

Kiri shushes you as he climbs into the bed next to you, gently licking your hand. His tongue is rough and long. He then lays on his side beside you, his furry tale curling around your foot while Katsuki takes a seat at your feet, laying on his stomach and staring at you. Kiri presses his nose to your ear, his hot breath fanning in your face as sleep comes closer and closer to eating away at the darkness behind your lids. “Rest, baby,” he whispers. “It’s okay, Y/N.” 

“Y/N.” 

“Y/N!” 

You startle awake at the sound of your name being yelled. You have no idea where you are at first as you look around the room. Though it looks familiar, you can’t place it. Your mind is too muddled to do so. 

What you realize first is that you’re in your bed. You can tell by how soft the duvet is. When your eyes finally register, you look around the bedroom and realize that you’re in your room. Your apartment. But…how? You look down at yourself, finding yourself in your costume from last night, your shoes off. “What the fuck?” you whisper. How did you get here? When did you get here? 

Several loud knocks come from outside your door, making your heart leap. “Y/N, open the door!” Mina yells like a madwoman from outside. You scramble to get out of bed, hissing slightly at the soreness of your muscles. “H-Hang on,” you call out. “I’m coming!” 

You hurry to your front door without first checking out your appearance, examining the living room as you do. Nothing is out of place. The windows aren’t open nor shattered like someone broke in. It is as you left it last night before heading to Denki’s party. 

Ignoring the roiling in your gut, yu fling open the door to find Mina looking very worried. “God, there you are!” she gasps. She throws herself at you, wrapping her arms around you. “I’ve been calling you since last night! You never got in your Uber last night, so I called the front desk to your apartment and the clerk said he never saw you come in!” 

You blink dumbly at her, letting the information process in your foggy mind. So you never came home last night. So last night did happen! ‘Did it?’ you find yourself thinking. Even now, you can’t quite remember. “How did you…get here?” you ask Mina, your brain still sluggish and confused. 

Mina stares at you, dumbfounded. “What?” she scoffs. “I drove here. I spent the night at Denki’s and sobered up after he convinced me to stay and wait for you to call. We were all freaking out, looking for you! Where the hell have you been?” 

“I…” You want to tell her you don’t know. You also want to tell her that you think you saw something last night. Or rather, somethings. Creatures. But you just can’t get to that part. You remember getting lost in the woods and getting caught in the rain, but…then what? What happened after that? Did you ever find the road? Did you walk home? No, impossible. You would’ve never done that. 

You know something happened, but you can’t remember what. It’s like an inch you can’t scratch. A puzzle piece you can’t find the space for. When you close your eyes, you see flashes of fangs and glowing eyes, startling you.

You decide to keep it to yourself and hug Mina. “I guess I just crashed last night,” you nimbly reply. “I’m so sorry, Mina. I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

Mina hugs you back tightly, giving you a sense of reality. “Just as long as you’re safe,” she sighs. 

You close your eyes again and see two smiles with glinting, sharpened teeth. “Yeah,” you say, not truly believing it. “I’m safe now.” 

THE END.

[notthecutesttrash]

Late Night Call

(Alpha/omega AU) Ghostface x reader

Content: You live with your parents, and as an omega who can’t usually go out, you’re alone during your heat. That is until you get a mysterious call.

Warnings: 18+ Smut, rough sex, blood, stalking, mentions of knives, daddy kink

Word count: 6.6k

PART 2

To my favorite killer, enjoy~

The throb in your head was just as brutal as the heat searing around your body or, as the slick producing and pouring down your clammy skin. Grunting, you shifted your body in discomfort once more, your eyes attempting hard to focus on the movie that you had purposely put on for a small attempt to ignore this irritating, biological monthly function. The grunt soon shifted into a small whimper, feeling a pesky bubble in your stomach when you took a nice large inhale through your nose. Your hands quickly shifted to grapple tightly onto the tight cushions beside you, as if to stabilize an already sitting figure. 

There was that alpha scent again, lingering around like a cloud of smoke, stuck to every particle of air. You’ve smelt them all and you always made complaints. Arguing that they were usually all the same. Most scents smelt like sweat, few beautifully good, but this… this was a heavenly smell that you never experienced. Somehow all you wanted was for it to cling down to your clothes, for that specific alpha, whoever it was, to fuck you as their life depended on it, and to knot you… deep and tight. 

The night surrounding your closed windowed house, made it easy to express loneliness, as no one within a mile radius was close. No being was here, just you, all alone, frightened, and in a terrible omega heat. 

Fiddling with the controller, your eyes could barely make out the commands, it was blurred and dark. From this you huffed out, pressing a hand to the pounding ache in your temples, down to the tensity in your neck. There wasn’t even a tad of a helping hand, or at least some fucking cooler that you can stick yourself in. Yet before you could agonize even more on how irritating the situation was, the phone rang. 

It was loud and vexed you as much as an alarm. Nonetheless, you mustered through gritted fear and pain. You reached over to grip the phone tightly. Your hand managed to grasp it so harsh, that it was alarming its counterpart didn’t just get yanked out of its wire. Though if that happened then you'd really be stuck, with a low-battery phone, unable to charge.

“Hello..?” your voice came out in exhausted slurs. 

The voice that answered back with the same word differed plenty. There wasn’t much to go on by, yet you let out a small grunt of disapproval from the dizzy intrigue surrounding your body.

The mysterious person spoke. “Who is this?” He had said as if he hadn’t called you first. If you weren’t in unfortunate shape, then perhaps you would have laughed and joked crudely, but this time you did nothing but struggle to quickly get to the point. 

Your ragged breaths managed to barely declare, “I should ask the same.” Instinctively the man chuckled beneath his breath, and too brisk to shut up or lock away, a small moan released.

How embarrassing, imagine some wrong-number stranger moaning over the phone. 

However, It didn’t appear as if it was heard, and you opened your mouth to speak, taking a turn this time to ask who you were speaking to. It was cut off quickly.

“What’s your name?” The man asked serenely, his voice slow… almost slower than what you assumed to be normal, making you feel every little syllable and breath. Mind clouded with fog, you responded, hardly able to remember that this was some strange random who made a mistake with his calls.

“(Y/n)…” you whispered, eyes clouded with lust.

Swearing you could hear the smirk in his tone, he responded nonchalantly, “(Y/n)… what a pretty name,” it was slow, oh so slow, and gorgeously sexy, with just the right pitch of smugness that made you already more wet then you were.

Exhaling a hitched breath, you nodded quickly, for a second forgetting that this man was over the phone and not in front of you. You weren’t sure what got over you, but the instinctive omega need made your hand slowly move beneath your pants, down your underwear, and over to your soaked folds. 

“What’s wrong (Y/n)?” He then said, coincidentally taunting. 

Your words were spoken through desperate exhales “Nothing.” Fingers swirling at your clit, you let out a tiny… barely noticeable hiss of a moan. Back arching, head craning back against the couch, your dizzy fogged head and blackened vision saw a void that the man managed to speak through… like nothing. 

“Are you sick?” The man presumed, yet even with these words that faked a small sense of worry, you could tell that it was knowing, harsh, and teasing. 

Shaking your head a no rapidly, your teeth dragged your lower lip in, biting softly as you felt a wave of arousal swirl down to your needy heat. “N-No.. I’m just…” trailing off, you thought quickly of what to say, but no utters were voiced. You were only a muddled form, on the brink of orgasm, begging to be filled. 

This time his voice was deliberately intimidating, threatening, and quick. “Just what?”

Moaning in response, your head curved around the tall cushion behind you, fingers striving to stimulate every bit of your nerve-wracking clit. Seeking no response, you continued the treatment towards your throbbing cunt swiftly.  

“Ah… maybe you’re just a little horny omega in heat.” You froze. Your hand is stuck in place, eyes widening instinctively. Suddenly a horrid shiver of fear got sent down to your spine.

“H-How did you know… I was an omega..?” You asked with a sudden spike of anxiousness, a breath caught in your throat. 

“I didn’t,” he stated.

Suddenly you had felt like a fool for revealing such a horrible fact, while you're especially alone in a large house at night, talking to a stranger over the phone. 

 “O-Oh…” you whispered a blatant stutter. 

“You still didn’t answer me omega, are you horny, or are you not?”

The tone became more ridiculing, yet so invigoratingly demanding. In obvious truth, you should have been offended by a stranger who was suddenly asking such odd rude questions. But the rational hidden side of you was stowed away, overpowered by your quivering omega counterpart. It only now cherished the idea of being fucked brutally by some stranger with a hot terrifying voice. At the thought, your fingers continued to softly circle your clit.

“I… no…” you trailed off. 

It was perhaps one of the worst lies you had ever told, but… some part of you didn’t mind him knowing. It felt different, trustworthy, and just.. right, just as this overpowering alpha scent that was near your form. Somewhere… meters away for all you knew. It’s almost as if it was taunting your frightened figure to go waltzing out in the dark forests alone, to likely only find nothing in the end. 

(E/c) blinking up at the light hanging over your head, you somehow quickly felt more sickeningly dizzy. It was like a drug overpowering every sense other than arousal and awareness for this strange being. 

“Oh?” Your pussy twitched harshly. “Is that why your hand is down your cunt then?” 

You weren’t sure what came first, the pure terrifying horror, or the powerful sloppy arousal. A sudden chill blew to your arms and over your neck. Every little goosebump and hair rapidly spiked up.

“What?” You rasped out, fingers shuffling to a quick pause, your eyes widened, and your head instinctively turned to glimpse at the windows facing you. 

Nothing but darkness. 

Taking a sharp inhale through your nose, you begin to quiver through your horror, a shaky moan escaping. This scent was intoxicating, brutal, and so lovely… The scent of an Alpha, nearing closer and closer. God, it began to feel like it was in this very house beside you.

Words were said once more, but this time, you could hardly hear a thing. Instead, you were so focused on that particular powerful smell that you didn’t even manage to notice the ripple of pleasure making its way down to your womanhood, adding to the trickling slick.

“Get up,” he said, drawing you out of the circling daze. It was commanding and strong, and your wobbling legs quickly arose with a quick subliminal nod to his words. Promptly, your hand gripped the top of the couch, hardly walking even a step before he spoke once more, adding much more to the struggle. 

“Keep going princess,” you were shaking, straining to hold upon the walls for support. Your legs were becoming putty, with breaths so labored that you could hardly hear yourself. Any other normal human being should have been paralyzed, angry, irritated at this stupid little joke. But you weren’t… you wanted to listen, you wanted commands, and you oh so desperately wanted loving attention.

A few sluggish steps later you had made it to the kitchen, hands gripping tightly onto the counters as if you were bound to collapse any second. 

“Why?” You whispered out, particularly to no one.  

“I just want to play a game (Y/n), can you handle that for me?” The man questioned smoothly. Slick trickled down your legs, and the fluttering heat produced in your stomach shuffled uncomfortably.

“Y-Yes…” The omega quickly answered, followed by a small curious part of the reason.

“W-Wait… who are you?” The voice from this chuckled, and surely a grin was tugging at his lips.

“If you be a good girl, I’ll tell you, all right?”  

Softly humming in quiet shaky approval, a sudden chill ran over your skin.

But I am a good girl… A small voice whimpered back in your head.

Please fuck me, another small voice begged, hips wiggling at the thought.

Within seconds, the scent increased tenfold. It was close, oh so close. You didn’t know where but you were pleading. With eyes shut, head lulling to the side, you Inhaled deep, a small sweet “alpha” slipping from under your tongue. The man chuckled closely, almost sounding as if it was directly behind your form. In return your knees buckled under your weight, small sweet moans following. 

The omega side soon subsided for a small moment and a horrid realization struck you. A gasp widened your eyes in fear. You pulled your arm away in slow horror to your sight. The phone in your hand said nothing but the time, signifying the call had already ended. The hairs upon the back of your neck raised, and the breath you were to exhale caught in your throat.

Suddenly you heard as clear as day “Turn around omega... Unless you want it to be a surprise." The man bore an even darker tone in person.

Immediately a flicker of dark fear burned into your hammering heart when you realized where the sound had come from. It was as clear as the masked hot breathing down your form, an inch away from your frozen figure. 

Every single form of fear exploded out, and suddenly the thoughts of inevitable demise had burst into your throat. You were unable to move. A hand wrapped in black leather-like fabric, grasped the phone out of your shaky hands and placed it far over the counter. Swallowing a harsh dry lump, you gasped out a terrified breath from a chest full of anxious pain, a trickle of tears eventually forming in your eyes. 

The atmosphere became painfully silent, your body frozen in time. No words were said as you could feel dangerous fingers stroke through your strands softly. He tucked a stray hair behind your ear. Even with such an action, it felt terrifying, like he was threatening you.

Even with such fear, the urge to lean into the touch was undeniable. The leather-like fingers moved down to the fabric over your back. They graced your shoulders and continued in a single line down your spine. Eventually, they stopped once they hit your hips. 

“Now.. tell me those words you said again.” The mysterious figure ruled, his voice much more clear and terrifyingly close.

Escape wasn’t an option, it was far from one by now. If you had decided to step merely an inch back, you would’ve been leaning into his chest. His voice was down your neck, sending rough chills into the death-like coldness. An odd mixture began to form, a blistering omega heat, mixed with ice-like fear. 

The man’s hand snaked to your front, gently rubbing up your stomach until he reached your breasts. A harsh squeeze choked out a desperate unexpected moan. Your pussy twitched in need, causing the idea of escaping a cloudy figment of imagination. 

“Hmm? I can’t hear you omega.” He leaned down to your ear, another hand gingerly running up to your pulsing airway.

You were supposed to be terrified, quaking in your boots, yet you couldn’t help but lean into his touch lovingly, your form slumping in easy relaxation. A soft appreciating moan escaped once his fingers grazed over your tender needy nipples. Run, a voice told you, hide, another said, then there was the dumb-ass omega side, that broke out with an aching “please.” 

The voice was just the same over the phone.. yet even better… so filled with overbearing domination. “I don’t think so.”

Inhaling another large whiff, a lulled groan too hard to elude slipped from under your tongue. It was your alpha, you knew this and neither did you have a second of doubt. 

A flash of reason pounded hard into your head, and your hand instantaneously lunged for the phone that was only so close. His gloved hand clasped over yours tight and harshly before your fingertips could even grace the object that was oh so close. Ignoring your sad little attempt, he leaned down to you once more. 

“Maybe you need help remembering,” the man teased, a knowing snicker deliberately escaping. “I can always fuck it out of you,” he then adds, almost causing you to sputter out in shock. Your throat went dry, and with widened scared eyes, you realized that the words must’ve slipped. 

“… I-I didn’t-” your struggling remark was ignored as well. The assailant… or whatever he was, leaned down to your neck and inhaled a rather nice large scent. An omega in heat could be smelled from long distances away, but it was different, you were his omega, and nobody else’s. You both seem to be aware of the moment he stepped within a half-mile radius of your area.  

The urge of desire over being marked or claimed was too unbearable, and your biological need caused you to crane your neck into him, begging for the bite to come.

The figure did nothing, and instead, he waited, stalling as you writhed under him, desperately wiggling into his clothed cock. Purposely, he watched your little pained expressions every moment he had exhaled a breath over your neck. 

You desperately bucked your hips into him multiple times. The arousal he felt was obvious, all from your little display and sweet scent. The outline of his hard cock made you moan out with excitement.

“Please… Alpha,” you began to lament endlessly in frustration. Your hips couldn’t help but continuously wiggle into him.

He exhaled roughly, sounding as if you were driving him crazy. His inevitable need queued for aiding his omegas pesky little heat. A primal aroused growl released, and you nearly dropped right then and there.

A gloved hand grabbed at your neck and he pulled your entire body into him forcefully. It staggered you, but luckily because between the counter and him, you weren’t just about to drop yet. 

“A little omega begging to be fixed.” He hummed, a free gloved hand reaching down, beneath your pants to your dripping folds. Moaning loudly in response, you leaned hard into him, barely able to speak with his clutching hold upon your neck. 

“You..” You only managed to sputter out. 

“Good girl. You’re already learning.” The praise alone made you moan out happily and tingle with desire. Into your ear, he declared a chilling yet somehow… comforting threat. 

“If some other asshole even tries, I’ll fucking gut them, you got that?” You should’ve been afraid and horrified, but the instant claim he had over you, made you melt in pride and joy. Yes... you’re his. Only his. 

”Yes alpha..” Your words came in moaned whispers. 

“Mm, I like the sound of that. But it’d be even better if you called me daddy, princess.” Your pussy clenched at the thought, and you nodded. You just loved the idea of calling your alpha daddy as he fucked you senseless. 

“Yes, daddy..” It fell from your lips so naturally, you’d think he already had fucked you before. 

Suddenly he had switched his black leathered hand to the nape of your neck, and before you had any time to respond, he shoved your figure down, bending your upper form harshly over the countertop. A surprised yelp left you once your cheek hit the cold marble, and in that brisk moment, your pants were shoved down to your mid-thighs. 

There it was… an embarrassing display of light pink soaked panties, only for him to see. 

Sliding his finger to a long rub down the damp stain, he spoke, and you shivered. “What a naughty girl, did you get this needy just by hearing my voice?” He hummed, his fingers slowly moving up and down, causing a clenching quiver in your body. It was making the arousal twenty times worse.

God, it felt so good.

 “Ah… oh..mm..” The louder moans that fell from your lips were loving and sweet, just enough for him to let out a loud pleased grunt of his own. You wiggled your hips into him, the lovely sound of his gruff voice drenched your folds almost double the amount.

His movements then switched after his long slow teasing, and his concealed thumb shifted to rotate in swift circles at your clit. Your legs were shaking, and you were trying hard to move and squirm freely under his hold. The pleasure was coiling harshly up in your heat, your pussy desperately clenching around nothing. 

“Or was it smelling me that whole time?” Mouth opening to possibly deny, an immediate gasp forcefully subsided it. Your panties were instantly shoved down to your thighs.

It must have been quite the shameful sight, because he couldn’t help but chuckle darkly, his eyes observing and drinking in the scene of a throbbing drenched cunt twitch at his every little action. He continued his sweet abuse on your clit again.

“Daddy…please.. a-alpha… I..” you began to whine aimlessly, irritated tears nearly releasing, pleading for your pussy to just be filled already.

An irritated growl was released, and he tightened his hold on your nape. “Speak the fuck up.” His tone was much deeper this time. You had ripped the predator from its prey, but you couldn’t care, you were so desperate. 

“Daddy, please! Please!” God, surely you sounded so pathetic. 

“Hm? Still can’t hear you.” He pulls away and your heart sinks at the coiling pleasure instantly dying down. “Guess my slutty little omega doesn’t want to cum.” 

“No! No no! Daddy- Alpha- alpha, please! Please!” At this point you're begging aimlessly, hoping and praying for him to give in. After no eventual response, you draw out a long pitiful, “Alphaaa.” 

He speaks like he's smirking, and asks “what?” like nothing was wrong. You wiggled into his clothed cock, pleading desperately. It was a dangerous game to play, but you no longer cared.

“Claim me, knot me. Please, please.. just fuck me.” Your needy words made him hum, but it wasn’t enough. 

“Louder.” 

The embarrassment turned in you. You go quiet for a bit, pursing your lips.

"Daddy..” you muttered out in a small plead. 

“Say it.” 

“Please fuck me!!” He does the same hum with a tilt of his head, surely a wide grin on his face.

“Louder.”

The frustration and tears force you to yell out the loudest plead you thought possible. “Daddy please fuck me!!!” 

That seemed to instantly work. Within a quick moment of some shuffling, the head of his thick cock, almost leaking with pre-cum, poked at your hole. It pushed in a centimeter, then stopped, shifting to only rub teasingly. You whimpered. The hold over at your neck moved to your shoulder then down your spine. He pressed your squirming form down tightly. 

Unexpectedly, when you had waited for more continuous teasing and were just about to wholeheartedly cry out a beg, he ripped his cock halfway through your walls. Your throat felt like it couldn’t make much for inhale. Neither could you find the room to request a pause… your breaths could only stagger so much. The man’s hips moved, and his splitting cock almost felt as if it was increasing in size, pushing deeply into you, aiming until it couldn’t any longer. 

In a futile attempt to hold onto anything as he continued to slowly bury himself to a hilt inside your aching cunt, you stretched your arm out to reach the end of the counter. Though in his perspective, it surely must've looked as if you were reaching for the phone that had been only a few inches away. With that he held his hand harshly over yours again, igniting a rumble of a whimper.

Within a quick moment, he began to move and pound severely into your walls, and without a chance of accommodation to his size, he pulled out to only slam through the tightness again. It had only been a few seconds and he had already fucked out every little breath you could hold in your body. 

“W-Wait Daddy-“ you were interrupted by a slam of his hips into your cunt, and a thrilling moan escaped your mouth. His hand moved away from yours, and although you were not planning on it, he smacked away the phone with a simple regardless flick, hearing it bounce away and slam onto the floor, almost sounding as if it had exploded into parts. His gloved hand then grabbed a fistful of your hair, and he began to pull at it mercilessly to crane your head back. 

“Oh? Now you want me to wait?” He said, and god you swore his endless sarcasm and smug words, would only make you cum much faster and harder.  

The omega side of you loved this, and you had forgotten any sense of rationality as this alpha had pounded into you viciously. With the hold upon your hair, your pussy held down on his cock, tightening the hold of your walls instinctively. Your moans were continuous and you made no work to conceal them, instead, they began to get louder and louder as you felt every inch of him repeatedly.

Hardly able to hold any time over your words of need, your other less abused arm moved down as much as it could, begging silently for his touch. His fingers curled through yours, intertwining once his second hand dropped from your hair, and he moved to your waist, holding you steady. Head falling weakly with a thud, you continued to take the abuse in your pussy, the abuse that you craved for so long. A wave of shaking pleasure was beginning to form. 

It was clear that you were sobbing, begging for a knot that you could feel within him. Please, please, please, just give it to me before I cum, I’ll do anything, pleaded the voice in your head that made its way to your lips quickly. 

However, you had spoken too soon, and in seconds an alarming frightening climax snuck up. Too immobile and weak to hardly react upon it properly, your coiling pussy trembled as much as your tightened sore muscles. You exhaled a loud cry, legs shaking through the rough quivering release. Your lips soon fell with begs, pleading for him to at least hold on before he cruelly fucked you hard through it. As expected, nothing slowed, and your overworked nerves sobbed.

“Tell me omega, what do you want?” He had a quicker gruff pace to his words, rather than his usual steadiness. It sounded so perfect it made you excited.

“I need y-your knot.. please, give it to me. D-Daddy, I need it so bad- p-please, I- Ah!” His cock split your walls further, hitting at your core with such ease. You moaned hastily, his body curling over yours. It felt delicious.

The thought of him being ready to take whatever he desired with a singular thrust of his hips into your tight anticipating excited body, sent you over the edge.

Beads of sweat from your biological heat rolled down your skin, and your labored breathing sped up higher and higher.

Yes.. this is what you finally wanted. Please.

“Oh, I’ll give you more than that, don’t worry baby.” he declared in a gruff. The grip of his increased, and you knew that his knot was coming, and this produced an ever so pleased moan. You could repeatedly cum just from the thought itself.

He was climaxing soon, and feeling it your hips began to buck and roll onto his prodding shaft, feeling a second instantaneous break about to erupt. He grunted and with this, his pace quickened violently, and you were sure that your eyes were already rolling to the back of your head.

The fucking was ruthless and you had no time to immediately adjust once he shoved himself completely to the end of your cunt and halted to a harsh stop. A gorgeous low huffed groan was barely heard as you felt his large knot along with his dribbling cum pour deep within you. 

A rippling orgasm like electricity convulsed in your body, and from the deepest parts of your throat, you let out an undeniably happy whine as you came hard against him. “Good fucking girl,” he praised, running his fingers down your hair while your body twitched, almost completely unable to move. 

“D-Daddy…” you whispered, unsure if it was even heard.

Feeling his cock slowly remove itself from your sloppy aching hole, your walls cried with exhaustion.

Still, it wasn’t enough, the heat igniting in your body was too frequent, and although you were tired, you whimpered at the removal. 

Yet you realized quickly that it was a grave mistake to plead so soon.

You finally understood this once he flipped you around harshly, your back slamming against the cold marble counter. 

Pulling your shirt away from your clammy body within a second, he threw it and grabbed at your legs. The grip of his was harsh, and he dragged you down effortlessly until your ass almost completely hung off the counter.

With no time to react, his thick cock plunged deep inside of you. Pulling back in moans, your eyes flickered up in need.. but It was then you gasped and realized what had been fucking into you.

He was a tall masked figure, a white long face with a black shroud of clothing surrounding him. But what was worse, was the fact that there were several drips and splatters of red liquids all over some empty clean spots of his white ghostly face. 

The masked figure tilted his head to stare at you, an intimidating demeanor that your pussy twitched in response to. He was fucking into you mercilessly without a care in the world of what was on him, and your questioning became short as a sudden moan ripped you away.

Your neck craned back to the ceiling, too focused on the cock spearing your walls and the blinding heat of arousal in your body, to care about the specifics of a strange dangerous alpha fucking you deep. He was probably some fucking murderer for all you knew. 

“A-Ah! Right there! Please, d-don’t… stop,” you gasped out, another climax already on the verge of rushing in. Anticipated frustrated tears were streaming down your cheeks, your throat tight and dry, while your helpless pussy struggled to take the abuse that you so craved.

You let out a loud obnoxious moan and suddenly a forgotten ring in the air made you both pause. For a moment you thought it was your ears alone, and when you had so clearly ignored it, the masked man halted, your climax so dearly on the edge of exploding now stopping.

“No!” Your needy self couldn’t help but plead as he left you.

His form moved away, and you raised your head to groan. It took you no more than a few seconds to realize that as he stepped away and let out a small eerie chuckle, his body was filled with blood splotches.

He placed two items beside you, a phone… and a sharp item that you could barely see. Although he had on a mask, you still were able to take notice of the certain taunting-like expression he most certainly held.

He was definitely ready for you to say something you might just regret.

With slow realization, your blurry eyes managed to scan over the item. It was indeed a bloody very much used hunting knife… And god you hoped that the blood was from hunting and not from what you thought.

A ring was heard again, and the phone beside you is vibrating angrily. Glimpsing to him, your eyes held some question for approval.

“Answer it.” He demanded. His cock was still out, and it was so visibly near your hole that you were almost angry he couldn't just pound you now. He tilted his head to the side when you bit your lip, hesitating.

Eyes flickering to the knife once more, you inhaled a sharp breath and picked up the phone, pressing answer and sputtering out a “hello…?” 

“Hello? (Y/n)? What are you doing?” Your mother on the other end had answered, a voice filled with curiosity. Opening your dry mouth to speak, words were on the tip of your tongue. 

Before you could manage to breathe out or even think of an answer, the man’s cock had immediately slammed into your needy cunt. "I-I" Your hands rapidly clasped your mouth shut before a squeal would escape. He was abrupt, moving quickly, slamming into you repeatedly with a heedless demeanor. You exhaled a very shaky noticeable breath and attempted to answer serenely.

“I-I’m just… watching a movie Mom..”

Breathe… just breathe, ignore it, a rational voice spoke. Your eyes were dilating at every thrust, and your omega part instantly shut that up.

“It’s not a horror movie is it?” As she was talking, he gripped tight on the back of your knees, and spread your legs even wider apart to go deeper. Your eyes were rolling into the back of your head, and you weren't even listening anymore.

“N-No.. I don’t know..” You sputtered out random words, barely able to think straight with his cock thrusting in you.

Fear mixed into pleasure. The climax was rushing and you were terrified, afraid that even with the efforts of holding it back, it would explode mid-sentence for all to hear.

Your eyes were moving back and forth from the ceiling to him, desperate to get your mind off of it.

But, how could you when he was fucking you so ruthlessly?

You bit desperately onto your tongue to avoid getting caught rasping out moans for a strange alpha.

“Well, stay away from those, you’re already in heat.. and alone. You don’t need to be scared too.. not to mention it’s night, and-“ she began to go on an endless rant and you're dissociating as he rams you.

His hand then switched positions, and with this, he moved to your clit. You weren’t necessarily sure what he was doing, and you're staring at him helplessly. A fear is drawn into your eye until he squeezed at your clit and tugged. This instinctively forced a piled scream to threaten its escape.

You bit down on your tongue brutally, fingernails digging into your skin. Your pleading with your expression, peering into black eye sockets, begging for a momentary pause.

A wave of the climax is finally erupting. You could see no features, but you knew he was smirking. His cock twitches at your terrified look, aroused at the sight. He's continuous, all while he stares straight into your crying eyes.

You shook your head as if to give him some sort of hint, as if he didn't know what was happening.

He of all knew, with the feel of your tightened pussy, a quivering body, and a sobbing plead that you were about to cum all over him. 

It was too late regardless, and tears were spilling down your cheeks in endless streams as you felt a third break roll in.

This was the worst of them all, and your eyes shot up to the ceiling, hardly able to see anything but black spots clouding your vision. Your pussy was twitching, your body was convulsing, and your erratic moans were muffled, stuffed impossibly tight in your hand.

Of course, your mother must’ve assumed, that it was just of your heat, and you were doing nothing but sitting and watching a harmless movie.

Some sense of stability rolled in for a small second, and with a blink to reality, you could feel his abuse at your clit never for a second pausing. You threw your head back with a small whimpering cry, clasped fingers threatening to give up.

Please, just a little bit longer. You were so close to breaking.

His cock is never ending even if your cunt is hyper sensitive after a quivering break. The shock of your sore clit managed to produce another wave of erratic pleasure through pain when he presses hard.

When you took too long to answer, a wary irritated “hello?” produced. Taking a deep inhale, you attempted to bite down through the quivering pain mixed with overriding pleasure.

He was surely determined to break you as much as possible until you couldn’t feel anything but your trembling pussy.

You mustered up every last bit of courage to restrain your cries. Your fingers curled so tight in the palms of your hands that you were sure they could've pierced the skin. 

“Y-Yes Mom… I-I get it… a-are we done?” You wanted your voice to be filled with aggression, despite it being rude, but it was begging as if you were giving her a hint to what was happening.

His cock plunges deep into you again, and again, and again. And he has zero care.

You didn’t think for one second of warning her about this masked being, even if you did, that knife would probably go right to your throat before you could react. It wasn't like you could focus on anything but the feeling of being destroyed anyway.

“Yes yes, just stay safe, we’re coming home in a few hours,” you nodded heavily afraid to say a single word in case a squeal leaves.

“Hello?” She repeated, and you grunt, humming your sobbing approval until she finally clicked the end call button that you had so hoped to achieve.

Your hand didn’t even let go of the phone before the masked man let out a growl. He moved in closer, his cock plunging your numbing hole.

Whimpering and sobbing, your grabby hands stretched out to him, pleading for your arms to wrap around his form. Your pussy was still craving the moment when after he was done fucking you terribly he would cum at a hilt within your walls. 

Hands grabbing at yours, he yanked your upper body up effortlessly, allowing you to wrap your shaking quivering arms around his neck. “Y-You’re cruel daddy” you voiced with a torn broken pant, weakly grasping the strange leather-like fabric of his clothes. 

“You’re fucking right I am,” he responded into your ear, dark words almost sending you to heaven.

You were rocking your hips hard into him without notice, drenching the counter with your cum.

Grabbing tightly and sinking your nose into his neck, you smelled a whiff of intoxicating alpha. With instinctive need, all you wanted to do so achingly was to lick and bite down into the gland. The thought of him beginning to fuck into other omegas set a boiling envy in you. This was just as much as your alpha, as you were his omega. 

Sensing this, the man whose hands were now almost half on your ass and onto your legs, dug his mask deep into the nape of your neck. “Jealous already hm?” He voiced with a taunt, ignoring your whines. His cock was getting faster, bigger, and already experiencing it the first time, you knew just was about to come. 

The anticipation of his cum drenching you, set you off with moans and writhing squirms. “My little omega would want nothing more than for her daddy to cum completely inside her wouldn’t she?” His tone was lazy, sexy, and yet breathily sped up as he neared his climax.

His mask rubbed at your neck, and you cried in approval, the nickname he gave himself made you squeeze tight around him. Nodding hastily, Please claim me, you beg to rasp out, a breath stolen as he continues.

You felt it coming like a coil ready to snap. It was coming and you were extraordinarily eager. Your hold strived to get tighter on him, but it was in reality getting weaker and weaker, and when he stopped inside of you, a terrifying orgasm sped through your shaking body in hot quick seconds.

Grunting out, your nails dug deep into his clothing while your legs managed to tightly wrap around his waist. A hot dribble of cum coats your walls and almost begins to protrude from your trembling cunt.

It didn't take long for his thrusts to start again. But this time it was mild and almost sweet through your lasting climax. Heavy moans and pants poured out of your lips.

Exhaustion began to seep into your form just as rapidly as the soreness surrounding your now unclenched muscles. The commanding grip on your thighs left, and his arms wrapped around your exhausted figure tightly. 

Your eyes tiredly blinked into his neck while you panted, cuddling more for warmth. The heat of yours instinctively calmed to an unexpected point. It was then you were finally beginning to notice the sweat rolling down your agonizingly hot skin. Although the knowledge of who exactly this dangerous possibly murderous alpha was is nonexistent, you were happy.

“Stay daddy.. please…” you let out a small sad whine, nestling deeper into him, licking at the fabric around his neck.

“As much as I would love to little omega, I have things to do,” he spoke as if signifying something. His hand trailed up to your neck. By now, you weren’t so sure what these “things” were, but considering your current state, it didn't worry you for a second.

Whining, a pout of dismay appeared. “Can you at least… tell me your name now?” You moved back, looking at him with blackened blown out eyes and a tired tear-stained face. 

His leather-like fingers ran up your chin, to your lips, his thumb outlining your lower one. At this point, he was simply teasing and feeling how your little breaths hitched every time his thumb slipped only an inch inside your mouth. The action repeated multiple times until an inevitable groan had escaped from your lips. That sexy dark chuckle broke out, causing your pussy to shyly tighten around his still drilled-in cock.

His bloody white mask neared your features. The words of his were slow and steady, lulling you into a deep sleep, you weren’t even sure if you heard it correctly.. or at all.

Ghostface…huh?

Nodding your head softly, you hummed into him with approval, placing your head back into its comfortable position, his chest. His hand caressed your hair gently as you began to feel the darkness sweeping in. 

[typingcorgi]

can't quit you

rating: e (minors, please shoo. you will be blocked) word count: 4.1k+ pairing: joel miller x f!reader warnings: mention of age difference, tipsy sex, mutual pining, emotionally unavailable but totally fuckable joel, oral sex (f receiving), p in v, creampie, praise kink makes brain go brrr, taylor swift references if you squint, porn with plot, moody-ish joel, no use of y/n summary: joel miller isn't able to tell you what you mean to him, but he can show you. author's notes: this is probably the fic I'm most proud of (not that I've written very many) and if you read, i would absolutely love feedback, reblogs, or comments. tell me what you like! tell me what you hated (kindly pls lol). i am open to feedback and love praise can't you tell so enjoy reading your thoughts. now enjoy getting dicked down (respectfully) and thank you to @foli-vora for letting me pick your brain on some of the plot devices; truly appreciate it (:

Right now, you have two things on your mind: cheap whiskey and Joel Miller.

The former comes from the promise of your smuggler who’d agreed to deliver an unopened bottle of Rittenhouse in exchange for three or four cigarettes you’d hand-rolled that morning. Quality tobacco is a thing of the past, so you’re fine with offering up one lackluster product in exchange for another slightly less lackluster product. There’s a good chance the bottle will be half-empty by the time your visitor makes it to your meeting spot. No one is ever as good as their word anymore, and their word means virtually nothing.

You hold Joel Miller to his promises, though. He said he’d run out to barter for his own offering of supplies—he’s low on ammo for his shotgun, and he needs to find a good number of batteries for the two-way radios he’d stolen off a sleeper last night. He figures it might be a good insurance plan, a good backup just in case either of you split up in this next leg of the trip to Jackson. And while you don’t like the idea of him traveling alone—despite knowing he can very much take care of himself—you don’t fight him on it. He’s not wrong, and more significantly, if you try and argue with him, you’re probably going to be disappointed. 

You used to bicker more when you thought he hated you; when you were the annoying neighbor and not the escort out of Boston and downstate. You fought like cats and dogs when you lived next door to him in those mangy apartments, never liking the way you looked at each other—like both of you knew the other had an ulterior motive to force yourself out of the QZ, and you picked up on it, tapped into this common secret you hadn’t planned on sharing with anyone else. And while the proverbial walls with which Joel shields himself are crumbling at a painfully sluggish pace, it’s something. You’ll take something over nothing.

You’re hiding out in the basement of an abandoned convenience store on what was probably a main street in this New York suburb. There isn’t much by way of furniture; just a couple of rust-ridden folding chairs, a worn green couch, empty, dusty shelves, and a sink that probably hasn’t run clean water in fifteen years. Small privacy windows along the top of the walls offer little by way of natural light, and the angle of its golden rays tells you that it’s time to go. Your connect is waiting for you on the street’s southern corner. Or at least, that’s where you planned to meet right before sundown.

Joel’s left you with his smaller, quicker shot, a semi-automatic that he usually entrusts you with while you’re apart. He doesn’t say it, but you can sort of tell that he doesn’t like leaving you. And it’s probably not personal because yes, while Joel Miller is slowly coming out of the shell he’s lived in for the last twenty years, it’s not as though he’s developed some sort of overt attachment to you. In a life like this, attachment is almost as dangerous as the Infected. There’s no room for him—or for you—to seek anything beyond a sort of temporary comfort with one another.

Get him to Jackson. That’s it. And then you’re on your own again on your route back home.

You switch the safety on the rifle, then keep it tucked in the front pocket of your jeans while you head up the dilapidated stairs and push open the cellar doors. The sunset meets you right in your eyes and you squint, and then the same thought you have at almost every beautiful encounter sweeps through your mind. Am I seeing another sunset tomorrow?

With any measure of hope, yes.

You close the cellar doors behind you, careful to avoid stepping on any overgrown grass along the cracked sidewalk toward the street corner. You’ve been unusually fortunate to not run into any runners or clickers today, but that streak would come to a dreadful end if you’d stepped on any patch of cordyceps fungus hidden along the green. They’d come charging at you in an instant, and if their overbearing strength didn’t kill you first, the brain parasite would. Eventually.

A quick death sounds better. You can’t fathom slowly losing your mind as many have. You can’t fathom losing the memory of Joel.

Fuck. You’ve really got it bad for him, you’re fucking thinking about him when you should be on guard, when you should be looking out for—

“Girl,” a voice calls out from behind you. You don’t know this smuggler that well; it’s not as though he has a voice you’d recognize. Your shoulders jump and you try to downplay it as you turn around, rifle now held in your dominant hand.

“Yeah,” you say, unimpressed with his greeting. You notice the edges of a paper bag crumpled in his strong grip, and as you eye him, you take out a tin-wrapped package of cigarettes, holding them out for him to take. He accepts your barter and unwraps the foil, inspecting each product to ensure you’re not ripping him off.

“Yeah,” he echoes, then hands you the paper bag. It’s heavy, containing the glass bottle that he’d promised, but right away, you can tell its contents aren’t completely full. You don’t mention it. Some things aren’t worth the energy. And you’re fairly confident you’d start feeling it after a swig or two, considering your last drink feels like ages ago.

When you return to the cellar, you’re alone again. Concern and disappointment flood your veins as you realize Joel hasn’t returned. Fuck, now would have been a good time for those fucking walkie-talkies. Hey, Joel, you dead? No? Great, get back here in one piece.

You dig around your pack for something to eat, eventually settling on something that you think was a protein bar at one point in time, but now just tastes of slightly sweet dust. It’s unappetizing. It’s all this end-of-world can offer you, and while getting good and drunk on an empty stomach sounds like it would be a fan-fucking-tastic idea, you can’t afford to slow down tomorrow. You can’t afford the hangover.

It feels like hours have passed within the span of minutes, and you take a swig of Rittenhouse before you hear a clang at the cellar door. FEDRA wouldn’t wait for you to open up—they’d just bust the door open without hesitation. Joel. Maybe. It could be him, or it could be your smuggler coming back to collect, realizing now your flimsy cigarettes weren’t worth the trade.

Your shotgun is again in hand—someone told you long ago that alcohol and firearms aren’t a wise mix, but that was probably before they realized the world was eventually going to end—and after carefully walking up the wooden stairs, you push open the door, gun ready to fire.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel mutters, lowering your aim away from the space between his tired eyes. “You really are ready for anythin’, aren’t you, honey?”

He says it almost sarcastically, like he doesn’t mean it. Like he’s teasing you in an aloof sort of way that only makes total sense for the Joel Miller. And you know he doesn’t intend for your stomach to twist like it does when he says it—honey, fuck, you could just melt onto the cold cement floor—but it does.

“In times like these, you have to be,” you offer, leading you both down the stairs.

You sink into the couch, finally able to exhale that long-awaited sigh of relief as it hits you: Joel is back, and from what you can tell, he’s unharmed. He’s alive. You don’t give yourself much time to relish in the silent celebration of it, though. 

“How was it out there?” You ask. “Run into anything? Anyone?”

“Couple’a stalkers,” he replies, shrugging. “Shot ‘em before they could get close. Got the batteries for the radio, along with some other crap.”

Your smile is small but genuine. “That’s good. Anytime you don’t end up maimed or dead is a win in my book.”

He almost chuckles, and it makes your heart squeeze. “Yeah.”

—

The “other crap” Joel has brought back to you includes a used, but functional woolen blanket and a stash of beef jerky that’s likely way past its expiration date. “I don’t need you passin’ out from hunger,” he says as he hands one of the pieces to you. Your fingers brush and it feels fucking electric, but likely only to you, since you know Joel has shut himself off to any sort of emotional electricity long ago.

He sits next to you on the couch, and honestly, takes up a considerable amount of space. His legs are splayed open, his broad back resting on the cushion behind him, and the full extent of his intimidating size begins to sink into you. It’s not like you ever thought Joel Miller was small, but you’ve been with him long enough that sometimes you forget how he might appear to others: menacing. Threatening.

You’re passing off the whiskey bottle between you, taking swigs every couple of minutes to fill the silence that’s fallen between you. Your conversation started benign enough (if benign could be used to describe the next leg of your runaway route, now that FEDRA knows two of its civilians have escaped the Boston QZ), but then it’d taken a more personal turn. Suddenly you know a sliver more of Joel Miller’s past; you know he’d been separated from his brother since Outbreak Day. You learn he had a daughter.

“I’m sorry,” you say lamely. It doesn’t feel strong enough. I’m sorry is what you might have said had you accidentally closed the cellar door on Joel’s pinky finger. He doesn’t say anything back for a while. He just takes another swig of whiskey as he leans back into the couch, as though it fully catches the weight of his grief.

“Was a long time ago,” he says finally. “She would’a been close to your age by now. Maybe a little younger.”

You nod and immediately feel a little guilty. You’d somehow survived, against all odds, against losing your family—if not to the outbreak itself, to the violence it’d caused. Your family was collateral damage in a devastating blow. It could have been you instead of her—Joel would still have his daughter, and you’d be with your family in a place hopefully much better than this hell on earth.

“Still,” you try, still not feeling as though your words convey your true meaning. “I’m so sorry. Thank you for trusting me with that.”

Joel’s eyes flicker towards yours as if he’s only now realizing that’s what’s happening here: he’s trusting you. And whether it’s an effect of the whiskey, it’s something. Neither of you is full-on drunk, just loose enough to take the edge off, to put aside some of the overwhelming weight that comes with surviving the literal plague. It’s just enough to let some of the walls built between you begin to chip away, bit by bit.

You don’t leave him hanging out to dry, though. You can’t. Joel just exposed one of his deepest wounds, so the least you can do is mirror the gesture.

You tell him everything. You tell him about your life in New York, your escape out of before you’d barely begun to drive. You tell him about your family and the hit it took to your life to lose theirs. You tell him about your connection to the Fireflies (although you’re pretty sure he’d already picked up on that, considering your frequent interactions with Marlene and Kim). You tell him you’d needed a light to cling to in the everlasting darkness until you’d realized even the light was no good, even then, you’d come to accept the only risk worth taking was one that ensured your security and yours alone.

And now, as it happens, his, too.

He doesn’t say anything afterward. He doesn’t come out with a line like thank you for trusting me with that or anything gooey or empathetic. How you have the emotional space for such reactions is beyond even your understanding, so you understand why a complete stoic like Joel Miller just…sits there. Stoic, nodding his head a bit in an effort to communicate he hears you. He doesn’t say he’s sorry. Everyone is expected to live like this.

“You know,” you continue, the whiskey warming the blood swimming in your veins. “When you didn’t come back as quickly as I thought you would, I got worried.”

Joel exhales through his nose. “Yeah,” he replies. “What else is new.”

You turn your body to face him, legs crossed over one another as you adjust your seat. Your eyes widen with meaning. You’re like a kid with a secret to spill, a story to tell, and you’ll be damned if Joel Miller doesn’t hear it.

“I mean it,” you push. “I’d been thinking about you all damn day. You just come and go as you please, or at least, you think you do. You’ve only just started telling me where you plan on going, or how long you think it’ll take. And I stick by you despite it all. You know why?”

“Yeah, and why’s that?” Joel presses, but the sarcasm dripping from his voice signals that he doesn’t actually want to know. Wanting to know what you mean—and then actually knowing—translates to pain. And this sort of added pain, the one that comes from wanting too much, is just not something either of you can manage at a time like this.

Your pointer finger gestures between the two of you, and with a bolt of whiskey courage, you finally say what’s been plaguing your mind for months. “It’s you and me,” you admit. “That’s my whole world. I got nothing else worth saving or fighting for anymore. So when you leave, half of my world walks out on me. Half of my fucking reason for being here is just—”

He cuts you off, and you don’t fucking believe what’s happening. His kiss is harsh, biting, bordering on punishment for you to shut the fuck up and he knows yelling at you won’t work (when has it ever?) so he kisses you. He lunges for you, his broad palm and dirt-coated fingers covering your entire cheek, the pads of his fingers pressing slightly into the flesh of your face.

Stop.

He pulls back, and both of you are met with the heavy breathing of the other. Your eyes open, slow and dreamy. You wish you had something more articulate to say.

“What the fuck?”

He says nothing.

“No, really, Joel. What the fuck was that?”

He pulls back, observing you. The weight of his gaze is nearly paralyzing.

“Don’t make me say it,” he concedes. You lean back against the arm of the couch, waiting for something more satisfying.

“Had too much to drink,” he tells you, but you know for a damn fact that you’re the one that put most of that liquor away. You’d had a head start, after all, waiting for him to get back to you.

“Not buying it,” you argue, shaking your head. “Just admit to me that you feel something between us, too?” And there’s your index finger again, flicking between your two bodies, tracing a line over the invisible string that binds you to the other. “Admit to me that this isn’t just about getting to Jackson. That you need someone here with you, because you can’t carry the damn weight of the entire world on your shoulders anymore.”

He can’t tell you that. It’s as though the words simply don’t exist in the Joel Miller lexicon. Your gaze drops, casting downward at his thigh, though you’re not exactly looking at anything.

Finally, he says your name. It’s low and pleading. Stop.

He’s leaning into you again, and this time, you meet him halfway. It’s agonizing, the painfully short distance between your mouths before he kisses you again. He’s slow and hesitant this time, almost seeking permission for a kiss as biting as your first. Your tongue sweeps along the seam of his lips, and when he parts them, you kiss him like the world is ending.

You can’t fucking believe what’s happening. It’s as though you’ve manifested this moment within your dreams. On the nights you’ve fallen asleep alone, you’ve touched yourself thinking of this. You’ve played your own body like a harp, imagining every stroke and rub of your fingers belonged to him instead. Joel is kissing you, and you’re kissing him back. Joel’s hands are running up through your hair, and your hands are on his chest, bracing yourself for him to pull back when he inevitably realizes this is a bad fucking idea.

It doesn’t come. He pushes you down, a gentle press of his hand to guide your back along the couch. His lips move from yours toward your neck, his kiss a brand, declaring you as his for as long as he’ll have you.

For as long as you survive.

Your bodies dance between wanting to savor the moment and needing to feel the heat of the other. Joel’s fingers toy with the zipper of your jeans, eventually pulling them down your legs and discarding them toward the cement floor so he can better focus his energy on you. On pleasing you, of course, but maybe to also give into the desire he’s been repressing for so long.

“Joel,” you whisper. “Are you su—“

“Don’t,” he interrupts, and then his mouth is on your cunt.

It’s sudden and harsh, but fuck, your body needs this. Nothing about this man is subtle, and now you learn his sex isn’t either. His tongue traces patterns against your clit, eventually probing deeper to taste you from the inside. Maybe if you’d been a little more firm in your inhibitions, you’d tell him this was a bad idea. Maybe he wouldn’t be fucking you with his goddamn perfect mouth like this. But he is, and you’re here, beneath the twitching overhead light in this decayed basement until it flickers once, twice, and goes out.

You learn Joel is braver in the dark.

Your hands grip his hair while he eats you out. His fingers press so deeply against the flesh of your hips that you know it’ll bruise, but it’ll be a pleasant ache to remember a night like this. It’ll be proof that even for a moment, Joel Miller felt something for you, and he could show you even if he couldn’t tell you.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he mutters, pulling back to catch his breath. You crane your neck to glimpse at him. His lips and beard glimmer with evidence of your arousal, and he sighs into the flesh of your thigh. “Too—too old for this.”

“Fuck that.” You actually laugh at his unexpected comment. “Keep going.”

For a rare moment in your relationship, Joel listens to you. His head dips back between your legs, mouth returning to deliver your pleasure. He’s slower this time, but just as deliberate. His hands hold your legs apart to give his tongue the perfect space against your clit, and when you feel your body begin to crest in relief, you give a sharp inhale through your mouth.

“Joel, I’m—I’m going to—“

He doesn’t need to hear anymore. He drinks you in while you climax, your limbs tensing while stars explode behind your closed eyes.

You kiss him when you push yourself up, needing to taste your own lingering flavor—needing confirmation that all of this is real. Joel fucking Miller just ate you out in this dingy little basement, and you can’t be sure, but you think it’s because he might actually have developed some sort of feeling for you. Something beyond the need to run or hide or defend. And you reciprocate it, eagerly.

How inconvenient for you both.

He’s breathing heavily against your mouth, and you smile in the earnest afterglow.

“You’re really good at that,” you praise into your ear, and he offers something between a growl and a moan in response.

His jeans are dirty and stiff, but you’re just as impatient to pull them off his thick legs and experience him as he’s delighted in you—the weight of his body, the feel of his cock. You hold his length in your hands and immediately notice he’s fucking huge. You practically gasp at the realization, thankful that the dark room hides your growing blush.

You’re laying on your back, and Joel’s fingers slide against your entrance, priming you for his next move. He speaks again, and while you’d normally have a little internal celebration at any ounce of vulnerability he’d be willing to share with you, this time you immediately cut him off.

“You sure abou—“

“Never more about anything else,” you confess.

It’s all too damn much, the amount of immense sensation that comes from Joel teasing briefly with the head of his cock. He pushes into you, and it’s almost as if you can see the way his eyes roll back into his head. Your own body has to adjust to his size, and you bite your lower lip as you brace yourself through the sweet pain of his length filling you with all he has.

He groans against the warmth of your neck, eventually building up his slow thrusts to a rhythmic pace that causes your blood to dance.

“G—god damn it,” you choke out, your ankles hooked around each other along his spine.

In the darkness, you can make out the slight reflection of his tired eyes. His breathing turns ragged quickly and he hisses once or twice—whether out of pleasure or plain you can’t determine (especially because you’re certain you heard him grumble something about his damn knees while he slid out and pushed forward, but honestly, you’re so fucking spent that it’s hard to be sure).

“Feels good?” You ask, clenching your walls as he thrusts home. 

He groans. “Uh-huh.”

He pulls you to sit up on his lap, and it’s only then he realizes you’re both still too damn clothed. He hurries to pull your white t-shirt overhead, then pushes your bra straps off your shoulders before managing to unhook the thing with both hands. Hs teeth nip and lips suck at your nipple while he fucks you, while you softly bounce on his damn cock, and shit, you want this night to last for fucking ever. 

You’re fucking ecstatic. Your heart sings with the knowledge that you’ve managed to bring Joel pleasure, if only for tonight. Your body thrums like a guitar string plucked by his experienced fingers, and you pant against his lips, sweat forming along the hairline at your temples.

“I’m c—close,” you warn him. “I’m going to—”

“M—me too,” he stammers. “Let me feel you, honey. Just l–let go.”

And you do, you really fucking do. You feel his heat begin to spill inside you and it only intensifies the blinding orgasm Joel coaxes out of you. It reverberates within you, spanning from your fingertips down toward your toes, turning your spine to liquid.

He fucks into you slowly while you both come down, humming into your ear during the aftershocks.

“That’s it, darlin’. Did so fuckin’ good.”

The praise alone is nearly enough to send you over another edge. You suddenly want to bury your head into the crook of Joel’s neck, hiding any evidence of vulnerable relief along your expression. But Joel doesn’t let you. Instead, he holds your chin between his thumb and the crook of his index finger, and kisses you through it.

Joel falls asleep on the couch in his jeans and an old t-shirt. He lets you wear his flannel (though he tries telling you it’s dirty and bloodstained, but mostly everything you own is, so you don’t care).

He falls asleep with you resting behind him, trusting you to hold him while you keep each other safe. He kisses the inside of your wrist, lips lingering at your pulse point.

When you wake in the morning, he’s already gone. And your heart would completely sink had you not realized one of the two-way radios standing upright on the shelf across from you, low static playing through its speaker. There’s a little red light next to its antenna.

You feel as though you can breathe again.

Padding across the basement floor, you grab the radio with both hands, press the call button, and speak into the receiver.

“Joel?”

[papiliotao]

・❥・DICTIONARY OF LOVE

♡ — Reader: GN

♡ — Characters: Albedo, Ayaka, Kazuha, Tartaglia, Wanderer (Scaramouche), Xiao

♡ — Synopsis: love through their eyes.

♡ — Content: fluff, very very light angst(?)

♡ — Warnings: spoilers for some characters' backstories

♡ — A/N: honestly, I'm kind of proud of the fact that I was able to keep each part relatively concise. Also, one of these parts is just me being down bad for one of the characters (I'll leave who it is to your imagination hehe). Anyway, as always, I hope you enjoy the fic!!

To ALBEDO, love means patience. He's well aware that he's not the most energetic or expressive person. There are moments where his social battery is low, and he needs to immerse himself in his own world more than anything. Whenever this happens, you sit in the snowy landscape of Dragonspine, watching Albedo as he drags a brush across a canvas, causing inky strokes to bleed across the intricate composition. You wait in silence, intently peering at him, observing every movement of his arm and flick of his wrist. The frigid air stings your cheeks, but Albedo's presence is enough to cease the chills that threaten to wrack your body. Once he finishes, he turns to you and smiles softly. Albedo thanks you for waiting for him. Your understanding means the world to him, and despite the fact that you insist you need nothing in return, he still feels the need to reimburse you by taking you back to his camp in Dragonspine where he cuddles you until you feel warm again.

To AYAKA, love means acceptance. After long days of being surrounded by people who idolize her instead of seeing her as a friend, your presence makes her feel like a human being instead of some faultless goddess. Although she appreciates the individuals who think highly of her, she loves how spending time with you feels so easy in comparison. With you, she has no image to maintain. Formalities and etiquette are thrown out the window when she is with the one she adores. Despite the fact that you know she's not a perfect person, you're still hers, and that makes her feel secure. You're special to her because you accept all her flaws instead of ignoring them, yet you love her nonetheless.

To KAZUHA, love means tranquility. After all the storms he has encountered in his lifetime, he needs someone who can help him calm the raging tempests in his heart, and that someone is you. Peace — it's a feeling reminiscent of the serenity that courses through his veins when he basks in the last ephemeral rays of sunlight with you by his side. It’s a sentiment that is evoked by the gentle lapping of waves on sand as the two of you walk along a pristine shoreline, hand-in-hand as the sun sinks below the horizon. And most importantly of all, it's found in the sense of stillness that settles over him each night as he falls asleep with you in his arms. The moon acts as a witness to your love, curiously glancing down at the two of you as Kazuha holds you close and whispers sweet nothings into your ear until you drift off into slumber. When he is finally left alone with his thoughts, Kazuha wistfully gazes overhead and thanks every star in his sight for leading him to you.

To TARTAGLIA, love means war. He is a fighter by nature, so needless to say, he will fight as many battles as it takes to protect you. He knows it's not easy nor safe being romantically involved with one of the Fatui Harbingers. Numerous foes have tried to take you hostage and use you as leverage against him. However, Tartaglia is always there to protect you whenever his enemies try to strike from the shadows. His love for you and his contempt for those who attempt to hurt you fuel a fiery rage that urges him to show no mercy. By the time he is finished with them, he is certain that they will never try to harm you again. In Tartaglia's eyes, loving you is like fighting a war, and although the prospect is unappealing to many, Tartaglia is different. The thrill of battle fills him with adrenaline, and at the end of the day, he finds that it is all worth it because you're still by his side.

To the WANDERER, love means eternity. It is a concept he is all too familiar with — after all, the deity who embodies the principle is the one who created him just to cast him aside, initiating the first of several betrayals to come. All the fleeting moments of warmth he has experienced in his lifetime have left him raring for more, but no one ever quite quenches his thirst for intimacy before they abandon him. He wants something lasting, but he's too afraid to voice his desires due to the dubious thoughts that riddle his mind. If the God of Eternity’s affection for him was as transient as the vibrant maple leaves that adorned his birthplace, then who would ever be willing to love him indefinitely? His burning questions are all answered when he meets you. You are able to look past his harsh exterior and see him for who he truly is: someone afraid of the impermanence of tenderness, so when you finally confess your true feelings to him, you make it clear that you plan on staying by his side forevermore. When you make your vow to the Wanderer, he feels a gentle heartbeat thrumming to life in his once-empty chest. Perhaps this time, eternity will last forever.

To XIAO, love means subtlety. It is difficult for Xiao to verbally convey his admiration for you, so instead of expressing his infatuation in a straightforward manner, it is instead a sentiment he administers through lingering touches and shy acts of service. His love is quiet. Subdued, yet passionate all the same, and he will forever be grateful that you never fail to pick up on what he is discreetly trying to say to you. A heartfelt "I love you" is hidden in every small moment, no matter how insignificant it seems. And the way you reciprocate his gestures by preparing his favourite dish, shyly taking his hand while you're sitting together on Wangshu Inn's roof, and inspecting his body for any injuries in what you think is an inconspicuous manner makes his heart race time and time again. To Xiao, love is not something that needs to be in-your-face; it is found when you read between the lines.

Au revoir, mes amis. Also, all of these were supposed to be wholesome, and then Childe came along, and I just said VIOLENCE. I wonder if anyone can tell which one of these characters is my favourite. (Any guesses? /hj)

[pshbites]

LOVE ON AiR 6. ROUND TABLE EP 149: perfect pitch :o

WARNiNGS » profanity, mentions of drinking, jake being a menace, there also might be typos 😢

3.7k words (again imsorry)

episode desc - come and take a seat with us at our round table! todays episode is a little different because while talking we built a lego set that jake got! while building we covered perfect pitch, icks in relationships, and scenarios we got sent by you guys on twitter. so please stay for a while with us and get comfortable, hope you enjoyed your meeting with us at the round table! 

*all four boys are seating at a round table, jake is opening a lego box to get out the packets and instructions. heeseung adjusts the camera. the setting of the room is a lot more casual, there’s polaroids on the wall of them and their friends. the chairs they sit in aren’t normal outdoor chairs but rather look much more comfortable. each mic has something correlating to them. jake has iron man, heeseung has a controller, jay has a tiny chef hat and sunghoon has a penguin. heeseung takes a seat and claps his hands together. from left to right the order they’re sitting in goes jake, jay, sunghoon, heeseung.*

heeseung: okay the camera is good 

jay: what was going on with it? 

heeseung: it kept focusing in and out very weirdly, also i think it was dying so i had to change the battery. *he adjusts his mic so it picks up the sound better*

*sunghoon shuts off his phone and sits up, adjusting his mic and looking to the camera* 

sunghoon: guys i am not an alpha male, i like chappell roan and other non alpha male things and i love lauryn hill 

jake: so convincing *he scoffs-half laugh.* 

sunghoon: no im serious, i gave the album a listen and i loved it so much 

jay: told you 

heeseung: what are we building by the way. *he sits up a little taller to try and see the box. 

jake: i’m not telling you! it’s gonna be a surpriseee *sing-song voice* 

jay: i don’t know if you guys know or not but sunghoon and jake were actually late today 

sunghoon: yeah! getting snacks for you and heeseung! 

heeseung: i’m not gonna get on to them they actually brought us food. 

jay: oh but last time i was late you cut from my paycheck 

jake: bring food next time loser 

*jay flicks jake’s forehead making him groan loudly* 

jay: i’m mistreated guys im taking new friend applications 

heeseung: oh like jake’s girlfriend application? 

*the group laughs, jake looks the camera in all seriousness* 

jake: if this gets 1 million likes i’ll post the google form. 

heeseung: where would you take her out for a first date 

jay: don’t make him say it, we might get demonetized. *jay laughs along with sunghoon and heeseung. jake rolls his eyes and sighs* 

jake: you think so low of me. 

sunghoon: well considering when you [BLEEP] in your last relationship 

jake: woah?!? i told you that in confidence. 

*sunghoon laughs loudly. jay and heeseung look at each other then laugh* 

jake: okay guys it’s not that funny 

heeseung: cannot believe you did that. you begged her? 

jay: according to sunghoons words the [BLEEP] was too good 

jake: GUYSSSS *he groans, putting his head on the table* 

sunghoon: okay okay fine 

*sunghoon heeseung and jay stop laughing in an attempt to calm themselves down* 

heeseung: before we sign in we should recap our weekend right? 

*jay nods, taking a sip of his water and sitting up straighter. jake moves the pile of lego bags in the middle along with the instruction booklets.* 

sunghoon: well mine was chill, ask those two schmucks though. *he points to jay and jake who smile at one another knowing what they did this weekend* 

jake: okay well we went to a music festival and it was so sick. 

jay: no yeah it was so fun, we were at the barricades too! 

*heeseung widens his eyes, intently listening* 

heeseung: barricades?! who was performing. 

jay: it was a lot of underground artists but live music is like always good. it kinda sucked though because we were with yeonjun and his friends and i knew jake was gonna be drunk so i had to drive back home. 

*jake laughs, jay glaring at him.* 

jake: yeah but you had fun, flirted around too didn’t ya. *he playfully hits jays shoulder, making his ears turn red* 

heeseung & sunghoon: OOOOO *sing-song voice* 

jay: barely, BARELY. this girl liked my outfit and we talked for a bit 

jake: ‘a bit’ more like all night. 

heeseung: oooo 1, 2, 3, 4 that guy has rizz galoreeee! 

*once he says that the boys stop what they’re doing to stare at him, jake side eyes sunghoon and all three of them begin laughing at heeseung.* 

sunghoon: what the fuck was that man 

heeseung: *laughs embarrassingly* i don’t know i saw it on my tiktok, i just wanted to try it 

jay: for those of you who say that heeseung gets hoes he in fact does not *still laughing* 

jake: only thing he touches is his controller everyday 

*jay and sunghoon laugh harder, their faces turning red. heeseung tries to hold back his laugh but then starts laughing with them.* 

heeseung: you guys are so mean 

sunghoon: if we can’t humble you who will.  

jay: well spoken hoon. 

jake: no no i think heeseung gets hoes 

heeseung: ehhhh my last relationship was a year ago 

sunghoon: i swore yall broke up a couple months ago 

jay: dude your perception of time is so bad 

jake: yeah it’s been a little more than a year

sunghoon: then i guess heeseung needs that girlfriend application more than you do. *laughs*

heeseung: can we just sign in please 

jake: oookaayy! welcome to another round table meeting, please sit down with us. i’m your host jake for this week and todays activity is legos and snacks! to my far right i have..

sunghoon: sunghoon

heeseung: heeseung

jay: ur mom 

jake: that wasn’t funny. 

heeseung: loser

jay: says the one who said the most embarrassing joke known to man 

*jay sticks his tongue out at heeseung making him flip him off*

jake: anyways, starting off the episode i wanna talk about how fucking convenient it is that heeseung has perfect pitch 

*the boys begin opening the lego bags, pouring it out and each taking their respective instruction booklet, one for each of them.*

heeseung: honestly one day i was just playing the piano and i discovered i had it 

sunghoon: yeah then you started milking the shit out of it 

jay: jake has a point because whenever i need to tune my guitars hee always helps me

heeseung: its good with the ladies too

jake: yeah okay rizz galore 

heeseung: okay enough

sunghoon: mmm i don’t think it’s enough *jay jake and sunghoon laugh at heeseungs face which is a pout* 

jake: it’s so cool though, i’ve never met anyone who has it 

heeseung: i don’t know, i think it would be much more convenient if i was like a singer or something but im not. it’s kind of a pointless talent 

sunghoon: i don’t think so, it gives you personality 

jay: you could’ve been a singer if you wanted to. if you guys don’t know heeseung actually auditioned to be in one of those kpop survival shows 

jake: *gasp* i remember, you told us at lunch that day like it was the biggest thing ever 

heeseung: you guys know the real reason i auditioned?

sunghoon: wait why

heeseung: because [BLEEP] did 

jay: *laughs, throwing his head back then high fiving sunghoon across the table* we figured 

heeseung: you two knew?!

sunghoon: jake did too actually but he thought it was.. you know 

jake: yeah i didn’t know it was her though 

heeseung: well my dreams of being in a kpop group were crushed when they rejected me. it didn’t matter anyways because i wasn’t that excited 

jay: i remember vividly you cried for weeks 

heeseung: is it hate heeseung day?

sunghoon: no, but it can be 

*heeseung shoves sunghoon shoulder making him giggle* 

jake: should i start with my questions? 

jay: yeah go ahead gamemaker 

sunghoon: floors yours 

jake: okay well i only had one question and the rest were scenarios that people sent 

heeseung: agh before you do ill go and grab those snacks that you bought 

jake: okay we can wait it’s fine 

*heeseung gets up, leaving the room, jay jake and sunghoon continue to build, looking at the instructions* 

jake: you know i was thinking the other night we’ve known each other forever 

jay: we really have haven’t we. i mean i have to be honest i never would’ve expected to be like best friends with you guys 

sunghoon: ouch 

jay: not like that. i mean that i never would’ve thought that id actually have people this close to me you know. or like people who understand me this much. 

sunghoon: i understand. i feel the same. i mean i feel like people think im just cold and heartless but you guys understand me for who i am 

jake: you just seem like you are, you aren’t actually hoon. 

sunghoon: it just feels like it sometimes. like i feel like i don’t try to come off as cold but it just happens. 

jay: it’s the ice in your veins 

*all three of them laugh* 

sunghoon: no but really, i just think that you guys understand me so much more than i would’ve imagined 

*heeseung walks back in, eyebrows furrowed at the conversation they’re having. he sets the snacks down on the table and sits down*

heeseung: didn’t expect it to get deep today 

jake: sorry guys 

jay: it’s okay, i like our deep convos 

heeseung: jake? you wanna ask your question? 

jake: oh yeah! *he pulls out his phone to see his layout of todays episode* okay first off, what do you guys think your icks are in relationships. or talking stage or anything really. 

jay: this is a hot take but just being overly rude. 

*heeseung, jake, and sunghoon hum in agreement* 

jay: i think it’s kind of annoying but also just mean. like i understand the occasional joking manner but being mean to people unprompted is so weird. 

sunghoon: i agree, i think it really displays what kind of person you are. like why are you being mean to people you’ve never even met. let alone don’t even know. 

heeseung: i feel like it depends on the situation you know. could be one of those things where she seems rude but in reality she’s not. 

jay: i guess so, but i still just find it weird. i understand being closed off with your emotions but i think just being rude without any reasoning is just mean. 

jake: i understand that. personally an ick for me is someone who has a big ego not in like a funny way but in a way they always have to one up you. it’s like the relationship is a competition almost 

sunghoon: mmm see ive met some people like that, i do feel like there’s some underlying trauma that makes them do that you know. *sunghoon opens the bag of snacks in front of him and takes a chip out, angling the bag towards the others and they dig in.* 

jay: i think what jake is trying to say is that they’re just really full of themselves. like they think they can do any wrong 

sunghoon: that’s just a shitty person to be around. 

heeseung: an ick for me is someone who doesn’t know how to dress 

*heeseung looks to the other boys and they burst out laughing at the change of mood.*

jay: i love how we talked about deep things and heeseungs is so surface level 

heeseung: okay im sorry! i would want my partner to just dress nice it’s not hard to ask 

sunghoon: i don’t think ive ever talked to a girl who didn’t have style

heeseung: me either but there’s people out there

jake: *laughs* okay hee. what about you hoon? 

sunghoon: *he thinks whilst he’s trying to build* maybe insecure people? 

jay: okay that’s a bit of a hot take 

sunghoon: not like that. i understand people have insecurities it’s just annoying because at some point those insecurities will just go onto your shoulders that’s not something i want. i’m not the most confident person but at the same time i am confident in my own skin so i guess i would want someone like that 

heeseung: i get it, sometimes people like that can drag you down with them. it’s entirely too draining 

sunghoon: i just want to have fun in my relationship. like i don’t want it to be too tolling 

jake: but what good is a relationship if you don’t have to work for it? 

sunghoon: you have a point. ugh why can’t you be wrong like always 

*jay laughs, jake rolls his eyes at sunghoon and chuckles a little* 

jake: you’re annoying 

sunghoon: yeah but you love me 

heeseung: awwww a confession 

jake: shut up 

*sunghoon smiles at jake’s cheeks flushing pink*

jay: i’m kind of excited for these scenarios 

jake: oh they are juicy our listeners have exciting lives. the first one is this girl has a boy best friend who is really close with her crush. but it turns out she found out that the boy best friend has a crush on her and so does her crush. she doesn’t know which guy to pick because they’re both equally good to her but she’s starting to like both of them. 

heeseung: oh that’s messy. move cities? 

jay: be serious heeseung 

heeseung: no i would like actually have to move cities if that were to happen. that’s such a difficult choice. 

jay: the question is did she really even like her crush if she’s starting to like her boy best friend? 

sunghoon: ooo you’re right. it’s like they say, you didn’t actually love the first if you fall for the second 

jake: wise words spoken from park sunghoon

sunghoon: i read that on a facebook post 

*the four of them laugh at sunghoons analogy* 

heeseung: i guess just pick whichever one you like more. 

jake: okay just to spin it around for you guys. what if they’re actively fighting over her and it’s ruining their friendship so if she picked one the other wouldn’t talk to either of them again. 

jay: oh that’s hard.. i have to agree with heeseung move cities 

jake: guys come on! real advice! 

jay: ugh fine. 

heeseung: well.. was their friendship really that strong if they’re fighting over a girl of all things. 

sunghoon: oh you’re right. they weren’t ever really friends if a girl came between them. it just proves the friendship was weak at the start so she shouldn’t have to feel that bad about it because they couldn’t have been that close. 

jay: but what if that just reflects that her and the guys future relationship will be just as weak as that friendship. 

jake: hey why’d you twist it! 

jay: sorryy *he smiles at jake and he rolls his eyes, continuing to build* 

heeseung: easy get over them 

jake: that’s not a good answer 

heeseung: okay fine then she should choose herself. she doesn’t need that kind of toxicity in her life 

sunghoon: yeah i agree

jay: same here 

jake: okay next! this guy says “recently my girlfriend told me that she’s questioning her sexuality, i want to be there for her and help her through whatever she is going through but would it be selfish for me to put myself first and break up with her?” *jay and heeseungs eyes widened as jake kept reading the message*

sunghoon: well. i mean it’s clear she doesn’t feel the same way for him anymore so i don’t think he’s wrong to break up with her 

heeseung: is it like he’s scared she’s gonna cheat on him? 

jay: i think it’s just because he knows her heart isn’t in it anymore. which is fine it happens to everyone. 

heeseung: okay, then yeah it’s not wrong to break up. i would say though continue to be her friend if he still wanted to be there for her 

jay: yeah, i agree with that. it’s completely reasonable to break up if it’s already like been made aware that one person doesn’t feel the spark anymore. there’s no point in staying together 

jake: how would you guys feel? if you were the guy. 

sunghoon: i’d be hurt because break ups suck but at the same time i can’t do much. it’s like sorta out of your hands. 

heeseung: yeah, i mean if she’s questioning her sexuality that’s okay but i would have to put myself first and step out of the relationship 

jake: okay okay. so last scenario, “my friend group is drifting apart because two of our friends dated and broke up. one of them cheated but the person who cheated is my closest friend in the whole world. what do i do” 

*heeseung jay and sunghoon all collectively have the same facial expression*

heeseung: the fuck. 

jay: i would seriously be questioning the friendship 

sunghoon: what do you mean

jay: think about it, if someone can be in a relationship claim to love someone then cheat on them what does that say about what kind of friend they are. 

sunghoon: oh.. you’re so right. 

heeseung: wait so these two people who dated were in the same friend group and because of that they’re taking sides? 

jake: yeah, they didn’t clarify but i’m sure that’s what they meant. 

heeseung: what kind of bullshit is that? friends shouldn’t be dragging the other in their relationship. it doesn’t matter if they broke up you shouldn’t have to take sides

jay: i mean it makes a bit of sense, the guy cheated so who would wanna be friends with a cheater

sunghoon: i agree with jay, i would seriously drop that guy even if he was my best friend. it takes an evil spawn of satan to cheat on someone

*jay and jake side eye each other then laugh at sunghoons word choice. heeseung joins in and sunghoon laughs along*

jake: you have such a way with words

sunghoon: it’s like the evilest thing ever dude

jay: hes so real because if i got cheated on i would wonder where the fuck did i find this super villain 

heeseung: imagine cheaters have groupchats and when they’re picking their targets they’re like “tonight we steal ze moon!!” *in gru impression*

*the boys laugh harder, the topic they were talking about now completely lost*

jake: no i think that’s so accurate. i really do think it is like that

sunghoon: i think yeah i would drop the dude

heeseung: i agree 

jay: okay jake what the fuck are we building 

*the separate pieces now finished, the boys look at them in confusion. jake smiles and gestures them to slide it to him. he begins putting it together while the other are snacking. he hides the finished piece behind his back*

jake: okay guess what? 

heeseung: what?

jake: chicken butt!!! *jake pulls out the finished build behind his back and it is indeed a chicken butt* 

*the three of them stare in silence whilst jake laughs, completely losing his mind at the immature joke.* 

jay: is it too late to quit this podcast 

sunghoon: i’m right there with you 

heeseung: we’ve been here for like an hour and a half and you made us build one big gigantic chicken butt?!

jake: perhaps *giggle* 

sunghoon: how did you even find it 

jake: it’s off brand lego. they make them custom it takes months 

jay: you’ve been preparing this for MONTHS?!

jake: yes it’s literally perfect 

heeseung: oh my god 

sunghoon: ugh you’re so annoying 

jake: that’s a compliment. 

*jay looks at the build then starts laughing, heeseung and sunghoon laughing with him.*

jake: told you! 

heeseung: we should put it here in the room somewhere 

sunghoon: oh yeah i agree. 

jay: this was actually fun 

jake: oh wait guys give me a snack review 

heeseung: umm okay. i think the chips were an 8/10 i don’t enjoy honey mustard chips but they were good. and the candies were also like a 7/10 

jake: i hate you okay next 

heeseung: what the fuck-

sunghoon: 0/10 for both because i paid 

jake: that’s just mean

sunghoon: im sorry?? you made me drive you and pay. which by the way am i taking you home 

jake: yeah.. can you please *he smiles at sunghoon*

sunghoon: of course. did you wanna get something to eat 

jake: ughh yeah 

jay: no fair why are you guys going out on a date without us

heeseung: yeah what the hell

jake: well because this is heeseungs house? and its not our fault you're here all the time jay 

sunghoon: i mean we could always just eat here. you okay with that? *sunghoon looks to jake and he nods*

heeseung: let’s just order food then. jay can pay

jay: what the fuck?

jake: not all of us have trust funds 

sunghoon: yeah

jay: i think heeseung should pay because he cut my paycheck

heeseung: you were late! you know the policy you goofball 

*jay starts laughing at heeseungs insult and heeseung laughs with him*

jake: they can’t be serious for two seconds

sunghoon: like you’re any different let’s just split 

jay: yeah okay fine 

jake: okay now rate my snacks jay!

jay: i think they were 10/10 and i love whatever jake gives me. 

jake: this is why you’re my favorite

jay: okay no i hate you

*heeseung and sunghoon laugh at jake’s expression*

jay: you’re weird about the whole girlfriend thing!

jake: hinge is restricting!! 

heeseung: okay just sign out god we can argue some other time 

jake: this is not arguing! this is healthy communicating take notes guys!

jay: false our relationship is nowhere near healthy he’s mean to me. *sunghoon and heeseung laugh some more, making jay laugh with them*

jake: *speaking louder over all of the laughing* okay well thanks for joining us today at round table, please like share and comment on this video and we’ll see you guys next week! bye bye!! 

previous masterlist next

AUTHORS NOTE » got carried away.. as always. this chapter may seem filler ish but i wanted you all to get to know round table and their silly selves a bit better 😕 pls don’t hate them guys

TAGLiST » @lqfiles @strawberrysavi @blockbusterhee @onlyhyunjin @purennn @jungkit @flwoie @imheretoread @firstclassjaylee @pinkishyng @luvgiselle @kang-ulzzang @cherryxbxmb @jkslvsnella @urslytherin @somerandomf1fan @i03jae @kittykangz @s0urcherry @istglevi-gotmesimping @hyuckies18 @seungwaitamin @taehyhunnzly @luvvhaerin

bold cannot be tagged

[supernaturalgirl20]

I’ve got Joel living rent-free in my head, too.

Can I get something where Joel takes up for reader, and puts an idiot in his place for disrespecting his girl?

I’ve loved Joel from the game but the way Pedro plays him has me 🫠😍. Thank you for the request my love, gotta love a protective Joel. Hope you enjoy 😉

Someday

Pairings: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, cursing, mentions of prostitution, possessive Joel, feelings but no feelings.

A/N: requests still open for Joel Miller 🥰

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

You can’t remember how it started exactly. Or when for that matter. All you do know is that it was a mutual agreement to keep it business-like. 

An outlet for you both to get some relief when the strain of this new life took its toll. Or when either one of you had an itch to scratch. Joel didn’t do feelings, and that was ok because neither did you or at least you didn’t. Now though, those lines are beginning to blur and it’s becoming increasingly more difficult to hide it from him. 

You knew if he ever found out, he’d run. He’d shut himself off from you and your heart would break. So, you don’t kiss when you fuck, don’t hold each other after and you don’t stay the night. 

At least you didn’t. Now though, everything has changed. 

***

You can feel his gaze on you from where he stands, leaning against the brick wall near the alleyway. He’d insisted that you weren’t going alone, especially not after what happened with Tess. 

No amount of protesting on your part could change his mind. Joel Miller was a stubborn man and while most of the time you admired him for it, right now, you wanted to punch him. 

Mack, one of Roberts's lackeys, was sitting across from you with a sick sinister smirk on his face as his gaze drifted from you to Joel. “Couldn’t haven’t left your guard dog at home?” His head tilts in Joel’s direction and you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose trying to remain calm. 

Trying hard not to punch this idiot in the fucking face. “Listen, are you interested or not? There are other smugglers in this area that I could go to.”

He sneers, leaning back in his chair with his arm slung across the thigh. “Oh, I’m interested all right, but not in your ration cards. Was thinking maybe you’d give me a go of that pussy? I mean if it’s good enough for Joel fucking Miller, it’s good enough for me.” 

Your stomach churns at the thought of this man with his hands all over you, you’d rather get killed by a clicker but then you let your gaze flicker to the man you’ve come to love. His face hardened into an almost permanent scowl and how you’d give anything for him to have a small bit of happiness.

“Say I agree,” you say, voice low, hoping that Joel can’t make out what you're talking about. “I want the battery first. In perfect working condition or the deal is off.” 

Mack sits up, his face a mixture of shock and delight at the prospect of getting his hands on you. “Damn, I gotta say I didn’t think you’d go for it. Then again, you ain’t nothin’ but a cheap whore…”

“The fuck you just say?” 

You can see the fear creeping quickly into Mack’s face as he stares behind you to the source of the deep husky voice. Your gaze drifts upwards to find Joel standing directly behind you, his face stern and filled with rage. 

“Now I didn’t mean nothin’ by it, Joel, I was just playing is all.” Mack gulps nervously as he quickly stands, his chair falling onto the ground as he holds his hands up in surrender.

Joel steps forward but before he can get anywhere near Mack, you grab a hold of his arm pulling him back. His eyes drift to yours, his eyebrows furrowed in question before they drop to where your hand is touching him. 

“Leave it, please,” you plead, and his gaze meets yours once again. 

“Yeah, you heard her, leave it. Besides, she offered first.” Mack is slowly backing up but a growl rises from deep within Joel’s chest and he falters.

“What the fuck is he talk in’ about?” His eyes are boring into you, and you silently curse Mack and his big fucking mouth. “It’s nothing ok, just leave it. Let’s go.”

“No.” His voice is harsh and angry as he pulls out of your grasp turning his attention back to Mack. “What do you mean she offered first?” 

“Told her I’d get her the car battery if she let me fuck her. She was gonna do it too. I mean I gotta hand it to ya, having two women on the go, you must be doin’ somethin’ right. The least you could do is pimp them out, make a living.” 

Mack continues on his tangent, and you can see Joel getting angrier and angrier, his fists clenching at his sides but it isn’t until Mack calls you a dirty whore that he loses it. 

Joel lunges at him, his fist connecting with Mack’s jaw knocking him on his ass. The squeal of pain that he emits as blood gushes from his nose draws the attention of some people and you pray you can stop Joel before a FEDRA agent arrives. 

He continues to punch him over and over until Mack apologises to you. “Joel, please. Please we gotta go, he isn’t worth it.”

You plead over and over but it doesn’t get through, not until you place your hand on his shoulder and then his eyes turn to you. “Let’s go home.”

He looks back down at Mack and whispers something in his ear before he stands letting the man go. Turning to you he huffs out a breath in frustration, his face stern and nostrils flaring. Then he turns, grabs your wrist in his hand and pulls you along behind him back to his apartment. 

The door closes with a bang, and he marches over to the kitchen, grabs a glass and his god-awful whiskey and pours himself a drink before downing it. The glass bangs on the table as he finishes.

You just stand there staring, hands wringing nervously as you take in the tension of his shoulders. “Joel.”

“Don’t!” He barks, his gaze turning towards you. “What the fuck were you thinkin’? Were you really gonna whore yourself out for the battery?” His voice is laced with anger as he steps towards you. 

“I-I was just…. look it’s only sex. It wouldn’t have meant anything. Besides, it would have gotten you the battery and you could finally get out of here and find Tommy.” You turn away ashamed you had even considered it.

“And you thought I’d be ok with that, did ya? Thought I’d want to share what’s mine?” His voice breaks at the end, the hint of softness creeping in. 

You turn to face him and startle at how close he’s gotten. Your eyes meet and for a brief moment, the world stops. You can’t hear your own breathing your heart is thundering against your chest so damn hard. 

There’s a tension in the air and you feel something shift between you. His eyes drift briefly down to your lips before your gaze meets again. He steps closer. Invading your space and filling all your senses with him. 

He smells like the bar of soap that you spent weeks trying to save for, that hint of citrus invading your senses and reminding you of the time before the world went to shit. He smells of sweat and dirt and that nasty whiskey he drinks every night. 

He smells like home. Or as close as you’ll ever get to one now. His arm slides along the curve of your hip coming to rest on the small of your back, palm outstretched as he pulls you into him. 

Your hand rests on his chest and you can feel his heart beating fast beneath it. You want to ask what he’s thinking. Or why he reacted the way he did but you don’t get the chance when his lips crash suddenly into your own. 

It’s hot and frantic and his hand is gripping your hip tightly while the other grips you around the neck pulling you impossibly close as his mouth devours you. 

You almost buckle when his tongue licks along the seam of your bottom lip, begging for entry and he groans lewdly when you open up to him. 

He lifts you off your feet ever so slightly as he moves around the apartment towards his bed, pushing you back onto it as he stands staring down at you. 

“Take it off,” he commands, his voice raspy and it sends a spark of arousal straight to your core. You quickly remove your underwear and trousers and slide back along the bed. 

“All of it.” 

You raise your eyebrows in question. He wants you naked! You’ve never been fully nude before, not with Joel. He always wants to be prepared to run. He can sense your hesitation. “I won’t ask again, darlin’.”

Lifting your top over your head you fling it onto the ground and your heart flutters nervously as you sit completely bare to him. His eyes rake over your naked curves and he groans, the outline of his cock prominent beneath his jeans.

His hands work off his belt and trousers and you assume he’ll leave it at that but then he grabs the hem of his shirt and lifts it over his head tossing it with yours on the floor. 

“Hands and knees, darlin’.” He breathes as he takes his cock in his hand and pumps himself. You don’t waste any time, obeying him immediately. The rough pad of his fingers runs along the smooth skin of your back, and you shudder under his ministrations. 

“I’ll show you, darlin’ whose pussy this is.” His voice is low, and you wonder silently if he meant for you to hear. 

The head of his cock runs along your slick gathering your arousal and your breath hitches when he notches at your entrance and sinks in. 

“God damn. So tight…so wet…always so wet, darlin’. All this for me?” 

You moan into the tattered sheets beneath you as he fucks into you, his pace is brutal as he grips your hips tight.

“Yes.” You cry as you come for the first time, clenching tight around him. 

“Damn straight this is my pussy. MINE! Ya hear. Fuck.” Suddenly he’s pulling out and flipped you into your back as he nestled between your thighs and sank back into your heat. 

His hand grabs your thigh and lifts your leg over his ass as he rolls his hips into you. He’s a little softer this time. His lips caress the skin of your neck and breasts before pulling the bud of your nipple into his mouth. 

His tongue licks in circles around its peak and you arch in response, your body tingling as you come hard again. “Joel.” You whimper and it somehow spurs him on as he begins to pound into you. The makeshift bed squeaked slightly with each thrust. 

“Mine,” he whispers into the shell of your ear. “My lady. My darlin’. And I ain’t…. sharin’. You got that, ever.” His voice becomes raspy and his breathing ragged as he thrusts twice more before quickly pulling out and spilling onto your stomach. 

He leans down and kisses you softly. Once. Twice. Before he pulls away and cleans you up, ordering you to dress again. 

Your heart breaks a little and your stomach feels like you’ve been punched in the gut. He’s kicking you out, again. Why did you think that tonight was any different? That you might actually mean something to him? 

You dress quickly and go to grab your stuff when his hand on your wrist stops you. “Where you goin’?” 

“Back to mine, like always.” He shakes his head and takes the bag from you, placing it on the ground. “I think it’s about time you start livin’ here. Need to start letting those fuckers know you're my lady.” 

“What about Tess?” You ask, voice betraying your jealousy. You think you see the hint of a smirk on his face, but it’s gone just as quickly as it appears. 

“She’s a big girl. Besides, she ain’t my girl and she has her own spot. Now come on, darlin’. Let's get some rest.”

***

You brush your fingers gently along the scruff of his cheek and he stirs, a groan slipping from his lips as he seeks you out. The arm that was resting on his chest now slung across your hips, pulling you back into him. 

Joel Miller has a hold on you. One that you cannot explain. One you're not sure even he knows he has on you, and it scares you a little, but if this is all you’ll ever have with him, then you’ll take it.

You’ll take him for all that he is. A shell of the man he once was with no penchant for feelings or emotions other than anger. A man who has suffered too many losses that he has cut himself off from ever being happy.

A man who kills first, asks questions later and protects those he holds dear, fiercely. This is why you want to help him get to his brother Tommy no matter what so that he can have a chance at being happy again. And if nothing else, simply because you love him. 

And maybe he’ll bring you with him?

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @browneyes-issac @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @hungrhay @rosie-posie08 @manuymesut @all-the-way-down-here @iccedays @tusk89 @graciexmarvel @pedrostories @pedr0swh0r3 @musings-of-a-rose @untitledarea @your-voice-is-mellifluous @majestyjade