#it's almost like this thing of like i'm going to fuck with you to get your attention but also to prove to you that i'm better than you

[a-b-riddle]

Part Five

Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)

You call Meredith when you get home.

You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.

How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.

"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."

"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"

"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."

"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.

"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."

"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."

"That works."

"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."

It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.

"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.

"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."

The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.

Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.

But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.

You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.

You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.

Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.

“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...

“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”

"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"

"You won't return any of our messages."

"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."

"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.

"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.

Dammit.

"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."

"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.

"Why not?" He countered.

“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”

He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.

You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.

God...

That felt good.

You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...

You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.

[ellemj]

Breathe: Part 2 (Final Part)

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Two-Part Fic

Read Part 1 here.

Summary: Bucky shows you what it's like to not be able to breathe. It's how you make him feel every time you risk your life, after all, it's only fair for you to feel the same way for once.

Warnings: profanity, enemies to lovers type vibe, oral sex (male receiving), maybe breath play??, dirty talk, fingering, mutual pining.

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: I've been super busy over the last few weeks and truly haven't had the time to write, even when I've had the motivation to. With the things I've experienced this month I'm honestly on the brink of branching into writing angst. To briefly trauma dump, having someone scream and beg you to save a life that is hours beyond saving can really push a girl to write angst. Anyway, I should be able to write a lot more in the coming weeks and I'm excited to interact with you all again.

            If Bucky was thinking straight, he wouldn’t have the image of his flesh hand fisted in your hair flashing through his mind right now.  He wouldn’t be thinking about kissing and sucking along the side of your neck as your hands work to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants. If he was thinking straight, he sure as hell wouldn’t be about to give you exactly what you asked for.

            Show me what it’s like.

            What what’s like?

            Not being able to breathe.

            The tense exchange is on replay in his head as he looks at you with a hardened gaze. The tip of your index finger grazes over the skin of his lower stomach, just above his belt, as you stare back at him. Why did you ask for it? He can’t help but wonder within himself, why did you ask for some filthy variation of his cock in your mouth? Does it have anything to do with him? Or is he simply the only one around to give you one last adrenaline rush before you’re benched indefinitely? Does he even care?

            Your fingertips slip more fully under the hem of his shirt and you trace one of his v-lines with the same finger that was previously lingering along his belt. Bucky takes a deep, steady breath as another image flashes through his mind. He imagines his hand tangled in your hair as you hollow your cheeks and take every fucking inch of his cock into your goddamn mouth. In this moment, he doesn’t care if you’re only willing to suck his dick in want of an adrenaline rush or whatever the fuck else is driving you right now. All he cares about is showing you how you make him feel every single time you rush out into the field, ready to get yourself killed. All he cares about is showing you what it’s like when your lungs are starved of air and you can’t catch a full breath. He’s going to fucking show you.

            “Take it off.” Bucky’s voice comes out low and commanding in a way that has tingles running down your spine in an instant. As bold as you felt when you asked him what you asked him just a moment earlier, you find yourself suddenly unsure.

            “What?” Your hand falters against his skin. Does he want your hand off? Bucky senses your hesitation and his flesh hand quickly finds yours and guides it back down to the buckle of his belt.

            “My belt. Take it off.” Again, your hand falters. Bucky isn’t thinking at all when he lifts his own hand and lets his palm conform to the curve of your jaw, when his thumb gently brushes over your cheek. He has every ounce of your attention now. Your hands start working on autopilot, pulling the end of his belt through its loop and undoing the buckle with ease. Bucky’s thumb continues circling against your cheek, his eyes lingering on your face as you undo the button of his pants and grasp the zipper between your thumb and forefinger. “You listen so well when your life isn’t on the line.” He says, almost disappointedly. But then again, if you listened to orders in the field like everyone else, the two of you probably wouldn’t be where you are right now. When you start to tug his zipper down, he quickly places a hand over the back of yours and stops you.

            Your fucking eyes. The way you’re looking at him right now, with that damn innocent look in your eye like you’ve never touched a man’s zipper before, is doing unholy things to him. Bucky can feel his cock hardening to an uncomfortable degree, and he knows you can feel it too with where your hand is resting right now.

            “Maybe you should take advantage of that.” You whisper softly. Bucky narrows his eyes at you.

            “Of what?”

            “How well I listen when my life isn’t on the line.” A small smile plays on your lips and Bucky finds it simultaneously infuriating and undeniably attractive. His eyes coast away from your face and down your arm, all the way to where your hand rests beneath his on his zipper. He catches sight of the hair tie you removed from your hair earlier still tight around your wrist. Letting his hand fall away from yours, his signature smirk takes over his features.

            “Tie your hair back.”

            You never knew Bucky Barnes held so much power over you.

            He can’t stop staring at you, studying you as you do exactly what he asked. As you tie your hair back, he can feel the tension growing all around him. He takes it on himself to pull the zipper of his jeans down, but he doesn’t dare to do any more than that. He wants you to do it yourself. He wants to see your hands, that are so small in comparison to his own, doing everything he tells them to.  Bucky’s eyes fixate on the skin of your neck, and though he has a plan in mind that doesn’t involve his mouth on you, he can’t help it. In an instant, his flesh hand tangles in the hair that you’ve just tied back and he’s pulling you closer. Every soft drag of his lips against your skin sends more and more heat straight to your core. His tongue darts out from between his lips and wets your skin before he dares to let his teeth join the equation. The first mark he leaves on you draws a sharp gasp from you. The second mark earns him an irresistible whimper. But the third? With the third mark to your neck, you moan his fucking name.

            When Bucky lets go of his grip on your hair and moves his seat away from the steering wheel just a moment after the first moan that he heard fall from your lips, you both know you’ve reached a place of no return. When you tug his jeans down a little further and slide one hand into the front of his boxers, something in the air snaps. Your hand wraps around his length, barely able to contain the entirety of his girth, and his head falls back against the headrest of his seat.

            “Shit.”  The hushed profanity tumbles past his lips as if he didn’t even mean to let it out. Without freeing him from the confines of his boxers, you give his length one stroke. Fuck. He’s big. He’s so big that you think you might’ve underestimated just how easy it would be for him to show you what it’s like to not be able to breathe. You stroke him from base to tip again and feel his precum gathering against your palm. When you do it a third time, his head snaps forward and you feel his hand in your hair again, tugging your head back so you’re forced to look him in the eye. “I can’t fucking stand you.” He says pointedly as your hand continues to move at a torturously slow pace along his shaft. You circle your thumb around the head of his cock and feel him shudder in his seat.

            “I can’t fucking stand you either.”

            “Then why the hell is your hand on my cock?” He taunts as his stare pierces somewhere deep within you. You say nothing in response, but you stroke his length from base to tip again, slower this time. “You can’t stand me but you’re going to suck my dick, aren’t you?”

            Bucky notices the way your grip around him falters, the way you squeeze him a little tighter before your hand slightly loosens around his shaft. He can fucking smell your arousal soaking into your panties. He’s a pleasantly surprised when you decide to take initiative and tug the waistband of his boxers down enough to free his cock. It springs up against his lower stomach and you watch in awe as he pulls his shirt up enough to showcase his toned abs and keep precum from wetting the fabric.

            “Oh my god.” You breathe the words out slowly as your eyes take in the reality before you. Just like you thought, he’s big. You could tell when you had your hand on it, but seeing it right in front of you? Even in the dim light of the supermarket parking lot, you can tell you might be in over your head. While you’re thinking you might be in over your head, Bucky’s thinking about how he’s going to enjoy holding your head down.

---

            “That’s it, take another deep breath for me.” Bucky says, smoothing back your hair as he memorizes every single inch of your flushed face. You wet your bottom lip with your tongue and maintain eye contact with him as you do just that. You inhale a deep, steady breath just as he guides your head down again. His thick cock slides between your parted lips, glides over your tongue, and nudges against the back of your throat for the third time. “Fuck, just like that.” You still have a couple of inches left to take but you resist, your eyes fluttering closed as you gag around his length. Who would’ve thought choking on Bucky Barnes’ dick would be so fucking pleasurable? “All of it.” Bucky says lowly, pushing your head down enough to make you take the last two inches. He bottoms out in your mouth and a groan is ripped from his chest, making his shaft vibrate against your tongue. You moan around him and he suddenly curls his fingers into your hair and pulls you back. You’re ready for him to say something infuriating, something that’ll make you want to punch out his perfect teeth but deepthroat him all at the same time. It’s what he does best honestly.

            “If you keep pulling me back, we’re going to be here all night.” Even with the taste of his precum on your tongue and his hand fisted in your hair, you’re talking shit. Bucky studies you with a menacing gaze, his eyes traveling over the features of your face slowly as he chooses his words carefully.

            “I told you that I can’t fucking breathe when you do stupid shit, and you asked me to show you what that feels like.” He reminds you, narrowing his eyes. You nod in response. “Squeeze my thigh if you can’t handle it.” Before you’ve even processed the instructions, Bucky’s pushing your head down again and forcing his cock into your mouth. This time, he’s forceful and needy with it. He’s doing exactly what he said and showing you what it’s like to not be able to breathe.

            Up and down Bucky drags your head by his grip on your hair. Up and down along the length of his sizable cock, reveling in the feel of your tongue against his shaft and your throat tightening around whatever he gives it. Your lungs are burning. Your eyes are watering.

            “You feel that? That burning in your chest?” He asks, pushing your head down again and holding it still this time. “That’s how I feel every time you try to do shit on your own, every time you risk your life for no goddamn reason.” He holds you there for another second, until he feels a tear drip onto his upper thigh. When he lets you up for air this time, the look on his face is a mix of lustful and gentleness. He wipes your watering eyes with the pad of his thumb, admiring the fucked-out look on your face as you fight to catch your breath. “You take me so well.” Bucky coos. At this point you might as well not even be wearing any panties, because you can feel your wetness soaking through to your jeans.

            When you’ve just nearly caught your breath, Bucky gives you a small nod before guiding you down again, gentler this time.

            “Your head is spinning, isn’t it? The lack of oxygen makes it hard to think straight.” He’s right. All you can focus on is the wetness between your legs and the way the head of his cock keeps triggering your gag reflex in an unexpectedly enjoyable way. Does he know you’re enjoying this every bit as much as he is? Does he know that you’re wishing he’d done this to you when you were on your knees in that upstairs office earlier? As your head spins and the taste of his still-dripping precum lingers in your mouth, you imagine what it might’ve been like if those men had busted into the room when you were on your knees for the man with the vibranium arm. You squeeze your thighs together and surprise both yourself and Bucky when you nudge your head forward, letting your nose brush against his thigh as you take impossibly more of him into your throat. Bucky lets out a guttural groan and presses his head back into the headrest once more as he fights to maintain control over the situation. He’s just about to let you up for air when he hears a strangled whimper and then feels your body shaking over his lap. He’s quick to take his hand off of your head, thinking you’ve fully run out of breath, but you don’t sit up like he’s expecting. Instead, you start bobbing your head up and down, sucking his dick like it’s all you’ve ever wanted to do. “Shit, baby.” Baby? You’re deepthroating him of your own volition now, taking in as much of his length as you can and then backing off, doing that over and over again as he trembles in his seat. “You’re gonna make me cum if you don’t let up, shit.” He groans, cautiously letting his hand rest on the back of your head again.

            Bucky isn’t the one starved of oxygen and yet he finds himself unable to think straight. He doesn’t realize he’s tugging the tie out of your hair until it’s done. He doesn’t even realize he’s sliding your hair tie over his own wrist, his subconscious mind planning to keep it as a souvenir. What he does realize, is that you’re as close to your own orgasm as he is. It’s why he doesn’t think twice about sliding his flesh hand from your head, down your spine, and into the waistband of the back of your jeans. His touch doesn’t surprise you, but it spurs you on. His fingers dance over the wet fabric of your panties, testing the waters as you suck his dick with a newfound fervency. When he pushes the pointless fabric to the side and plunges a single finger into your cunt without warning, you take as much of his length into your mouth as you can and then you fucking swallow around him.

            “Fuck, you like sucking my dick, don’t you? Look at you swallowing my cock, taking all of it so easily.”

            Bucky adds a second finger to your dripping cunt, sliding them in to the hilt as you clench around him. When you moan around his cock, he can’t stand it anymore. He’s quick to pull his fingers out of you and grip your hair tightly, pulling you off of his cock. You take a deep breath, hating that he stopped you but thankful for the chance to breathe normally for a second.

            “When you moan like that…fuck. I almost—”

            “How am I supposed to swallow your cum if you keep fucking pulling me off?” You ask, your annoyance evident in your tone. Bucky’s eyes widen but his grip on your hair remains the same.

            “Is that what you want to do? Swallow my cum?”

            “Bucky…” You let his name roll off of your tongue in a whisper as you lean in close to his face and wrap one hand around his throbbing hard-on. “Let me swallow.”

---

            All Bucky can think about is the way you kissed him. The way you swallowed every drop of cum he spilled into your mouth and then sat up and pressed your lips to his, the way you dragged the tip of your tongue over his bottom lip before sinking back into the passenger seat has been burned in his brain for the last three days. For the last three fucking days.

            He stands with his back against the cool metal of the elevator wall, staring down at the black hair tie on his wrist. He hasn’t taken it off once, he can’t.

            You sit in front of your vanity, running your fingers over the fading marks on your neck. Is it wrong to wish he’d left you with some kind of permanent reminder of that night in the car? Is it wrong to hate that the marks he left will be gone soon?

---

            You were supposed to be meeting with Fury. You assumed that meant Fury alone, until you found yourself seated right across from Bucky Barnes. You’re two feet away from the man that had his fingers inside of you three days ago, two feet away from the man whose cum you swallowed like it was a cold drink of water on a hot summer’s day. You hadn’t expected to interact with him again after that night. You were benched, after all, your partnership indefinitely suspended with you being taken out of the field.

            When Fury walks in moments later, breaking the thick tension that was beginning to suffocate you both, what he says changes the dynamic entirely.

            Not only is he putting you back in the field, but he expects you and Bucky to spend a week undercover in the lowest place on Earth: Madripoor. A week together.

            When Fury leaves the two of you sitting in the conference room, the tension returns at full strength, swirling around the room and threatening to suck the air out of your lungs. It comes to a head when Bucky’s about to speak, about to say anything he can think of to break through the thick cloud in the atmosphere. He leans forward and rests his arms on the table, opening his mouth to say something, and that’s when you see it. Your hair tie from that night, wrapped around his wrist. His eyes follow the line of your gaze until you’re both looking at the seemingly insignificant piece of elastic.  

            But it isn’t insignificant.

            Bucky Barnes is wearing your hair tie on his wrist, and he has been for three days now.

            When your eyes meet again, that familiar warmth begins to build low in your stomach.

            Tie your hair back.

            He’d said it so authoritatively and you’d listened so willingly. Neither of you is aware that the other is thinking about the same thing.

            The next time Bucky wants your mouth around his cock, he’ll be tying your hair back himself.

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[psyduc]

pasta a la erik karlsson

THE INGREDIENTS: pasta. alfredo. meat sauce. raw (red) onion. hot sauce (cholula, judging by the video). ketchup (heinz, i think?). a little salt and pepper.

THE RECIPE: boil pasta, chop the onion, serve with all sauces. eat and not die.

hi my name is emily and welcome to jackass

instead of liveblogging this process, i'm just going to add my thoughts to one big post to make it cleaner <3

6:48 pm: the pasta is boiling. i keep looking over at the Pile of Sauces and giggling. i have whispered "what the fuck" to myself a few times now. i'm cooking the whole box, because we're all having spaghetti tonight, but i'm the only one brave enough to try... This

6:54 pm: erik did not mention this as part of the meal but i poured myself a glass of rose. the onion has been chopped. i tried to get them chunky to match the video but that's like too much man, at least have your onions DICED why are they in CHUNKS ERIK

7:05 pm: writing these time stamps i'm realizing i'm a slow cooker because i keep getting distracted by my playlist (rn it's rebel rebel by david bowie). i am starting the alfredo sauce and it's sinking in that i'm about to actually. eat this. like a few bites, there's no way i'm eating this whole plate (this is NOT foreshadowing)

7:07 pm: i almost panicked because i didn't think i had enough milk for the alfredo but surprise, i had EXACTLY enough. this is a good omen.

7:15 pm: everything is done, i am just waiting for the meat sauce to warm up. i'm still whispering "what the fuck to myself".

7:21 pm: it's time. to assemble.

i grabbed a small plate, but i'm realizing. maybe i should have grabbed less. this is revolting. and i'm not even done adding things

added and mixed. i'm laughing. erik eats this. before every game? it overwhelmingly smells like cholula which is fine but oh my god. oh my god? no. no. this poor man's stomach. oh my god

7:30 pm: i've put it off. it's time to take a bite

IT'S JUST. IT'S JUST A LOT OKAY. THIS IS A LOT OF FLAVOR AND NONE OF IT REALLY GOES TOGETHER? it's like way too acidic. biting into a red onion is a terrible surprise. it's too saucy and it doesn't feel Good in my stomach, like i have taken two bites and it's settled so heavily already. okay no three bites. it's... it's just upsetting. this is an upsetting experience. what the fuck is wrong with you erik karlsson. you eat this and then you go and play professional hockey?

FOUR BITES IN AND IT DOES NOT GET BETTER. why does he do this to himself like can we send someone to check on him fr i am genuinely concerned about this man like i made this meal for the bit but he willingly does this to himself?????? 82 games a season???????

IN CONCLUSION: i managed five (5) bites. they were all bad. don't make this. someone arrest erik karlsson immediately i am so serious.

[auteurdelabre]

PLEASE MISTER MILLER SEQUEL PART 7 - BFD!Joel x f!Reader

rating: 18+ (MAJOR FILTH IN THIS ONE)

pairings: Your Best Friends Dad Joel x f!Reader

warnings: FILTH, age gap, divorce, domestic bliss, public-ish sex, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, p in v sex, all the sex and all the fluff, slightly possessive Joel, love love love.

a/n: Y'all I had major writers block with this one. Took me a bit but I think I got us there. One more chapter after this to go and I'm unsure of how to end it. . . Dunno what these two idiots deserve.

masterlist here

There's something strange about entering into Joel's home after all these months that makes your heart pound.  Joel carries your bags for you, chatting animatedly that the place might look different. His voice fades into the back of your mind as you look around. It all feels so surreal to be back in this house. Bizarre to see how Joel has made the place more his own in the short time since his separation. 

For one thing the frames that contained photos of Tess are gone. The only ones that remain are of him and Sarah smiling toothily at the camera.  Its clear Tess has not been in the picture for some time, despite her last ditch effort to connect.

A bunch of the furniture seems new as well. The sofa he fucked you on last Christmas has been replaced by a smaller, more streamlined looking leather piece and most of the knick knacks and colorful items from the rooms have been removed. The TV is propped up on a plastic stand that looks garish amongst the more subdued and tasteful décor.

The place is definitely a bachelor pad. 

The bedroom has been painted not green, but a gentle blue and that makes your heart clench tightly. The bed is new, has grey sheets and plush looking pillows. A stationary bike is in the corner.  The dresser is adorned with coins, old receipts, CD’s, pencils and a variety of other things one would normally find in a carpenter’s pockets. No longer in wicker baskets or small decorative dishes.

“Now you don’t have to stay in here,” Joel says seriously, his hand still on your suitcase handle as you glance around his bedroom. “We can set you up in the guest room like before no problem. That way you’ll still have your own space.”

You frown at him. “You want me in the guest room?”

“Doesn’t matter what I want.”

“Joel.”

He sighs softly. “No, I don’t, not really.”

“So I can stay in here with you?”

“Only if you wa-“

You stop his rambling with a kiss before taking the handle from him and rolling it to the far side of the room. 

“Can I put my stuff in the closet? Or dresser?”

“Both.”

You start to unpack and Joel watches this with a soft little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Dinner is pizza sat on the glass coffee table, watching a movie you two could agree on. You spend most of it sneaking glances at Joel’s profile from the corner of your eye. You find yourself completely taken with everything about him – how his salt and pepper curls fall into his forehead, how his jaw clenches when he chews his pizza, how he huffs through his nose when he’s amused at something in the movie.

You’re pathetically in love with him.

Hours later the two of you collapse onto the bed side by side, too tired from the day’s travel to do anything other than sleep. Despite this, Joel takes great pleasure in watching you shimmy out of your jeans and shirt, pulling on your nightdress and climbing back into bed with him.

“Goodnight baby,” he murmurs as he pulls you into his arms, tucking you there underneath his chin after a soft kiss. “M’so glad you’re here.”

///

You've woken up next to Joel several times in hotel beds, but never his own. So when the sun lazily makes its way into the bedroom that first morning and you blink awake, you're almost startled to see him sleeping there next to you. You take in the grey of his bed sheets, the way his mouth parts slightly in his sleep, the way his hair is tousled from sleep and you feel your heart swell. 

"Morning, honey," you whisper. "You wanna get coffee?"

"Nuh uh," he mutters, eyes still closed. An arm slides over your waist, pulling you against him. "Want you."

Fucking in Joel's bed is just as delicious a fucking him in your dorm at college. Only now you don't have to rush or panic. You can just enjoy the way his skin looks in the morning sun as he buries his mouth between your legs with your thighs at his ears, his hands gripping your ass so he can devour you properly. 

"Right there!" You cry out, body arching for him. "M’so close, I just-"

You come with a shuddering cry, piercing the peaceful quiet of the bedroom.  Joel grins, mouth glistening with your arousal. He climbs up the length of your body, mouth ravishing yours before he urges you onto your belly. His body is heavy over yours, his mouth rasping against your ear.

“My turn.”

Joel gathers your hair into a ponytail, wrapping it around his palm and tugging you onto all fours for him. You give a soft whimper, delighted at the tugging sensation on your scalp. Joel grins, tugging you gently again by the hair as his free hand grips your thigh, urging you to arch ass in the air for him.

He sinks into you slowly, but when you whimper at the sensation and arch further the angle of your shifting hips allows his stroke to drive deeper. Already turned on out of his mind, Joel begins to thrust deep and fast, causing your eyes to roll back as you groan. 

"You like that?" Joel grunts, his hips snapping against your ass. 

"Uh huh." 

He continues on like this with his hand wrapped in your hair, tugging you gently as he fucks into you. He checks in with you every once in a while, a soft kiss to your shoulder and a husky ‘you still okay?’ before he continues with you groaning your desire for him to go harder and deeper.

He pounds into you with intensity, the rhythm of his fingers on your clit staying steady.You come with a shuddering cry, head lolled forward and Joel’s cock sawing in and out of you, his fingers dancing on your clit.

“Whose girl are you?”

“Yours,” you groan, flesh rippling as his hips slap against your ass in a frenzy.

"That's right," Joel growls before he nips at your earlobe. "Now prove it and soak my cock."

You cry out his name before thrusting yourself back against his cock.

“That’s it, that’s it,” he coos as you come down.

You hear his ragged grunts as you climax but notice that he begins to slow, his cock slowly dragging and plunging before tapering off. You look over your shoulder at him, your cheeks flushed. Joel is looking down at you with a strange look on his face. 

"What's wrong, baby?"

"Was thinking of tryin' somethin'," he murmurs, dark eyes sliding over your naked body as he gently pulls from you.  “You up for somethin’ a lil different?”

"Anything you want," you tell him honestly. And you mean it; Joel can use your body in any way he desires. You trust him absolutely. He’s never given you reason to doubt him. His face lights up almost boyishly as he grins down at you. 

"Yeah?"

You nod and he practically leaps off the bed. You grin, taking time to appreciate the sight of his deliciously taut ass twitching as his naked frame pads over to the dresser where he threw his jeans last night.  

You watch in quiet fascination as he un-loops the dark brown leather belt from the pair, sliding it around his palm as he looks over at you. 

"You've used a belt before," you remind him as he moves towards the bed, hard cock bobbing as you think of how he used a belt to bind your wrists once. 

"Not like this," Joel slides his tongue into his opposite cheek as he crawls back onto the bed behind you. His large palm slides over the curve of your ass, gripping a moment. You can feel his eyes on your naked body, heavy and hot. 

 "You trust me?" 

"Yes."

There's no hesitation, no balking. You simply rest there on your hands and knees, waiting. 

You feel Joel continue to watch you, no doubt observing the gathering slick of your cunt and the shine of it on your inner thighs. His hot and heavy breath is there at your ass, giving you a sharp nip on your left cheek that has you yelp and him chuckle. His warm hand soothes the sting immediately.

"So gorgeous," Joel murmurs as he kisses his way up your naked spine. You bow, wanting him to press his lips to every vertebra, to tattoo your body with his tongue and mouth. You feel him behind you, the warmth of his body curling over you as his mouth drags over your shoulder blade, slow and sensual. 

"You’re so fuckin’ good for me, you know that?"

His mouth is at your jaw as he asks this and by answer you tilt your head to capture his lips against yours. He makes a low noise, his hand going to curve around your throat, holding you there so that he can kiss you at his leisure, sucking your tongue into his mouth as your cunt weeps.

“Keep bein’ good, yeah?”

You feel him circle the leather around your waist, the sensation drawing a soft gasp from you. His eyes drift to your wait as he tightens the belt before notching it. It’s almost as if he expects you to wear it, only he keeps the tail end of it firmly gripped in his palm. 

"Tell me if it's too tight." 

"S'not," you purr, finding the sensation of leather biting into your hips and belly to be a turn on more than anything. 

He tugs gently, urging you back towards him before giving the belt some slack. His free hand is at your ass again, rubbing sweet circles over the mark he’s left. You feel him on his knees, bending back to look at you.

"Show me what's mine, baby."

You sigh contentedly, forcing your legs apart further, ass in the air, your face resting on the mattress. You know from where he kneels behind you be can see everything, including your puffy pussy completely drenched. 

You whimper slightly at the sound of Joel's groan. 

“Yeah, she’s all mine.”

Joel watches your muscles roll and skin prickle in anticipation and he can't stop himself from rubbing his palm up your spine, his fingers tracing where his mouth and tongue have travelled. 

You whimper again, cunt twitching as fresh arousal gathers there. Joel swallows a growl and you feel him notch himself at your entrance, guiding the head of his cock against your clit before sinking into your dripping cunt. 

“Joel!”

From this angle he feels so big, filling you so well. Your cunt almost stings from how big. When he begins to move you grip onto the bed sheets, body jolting as you let out little mewls of pleasure.

"So fuckin' good," Joel groans out between clenched teeth. He pulls out slowly, wanting to see his cock glossy with your slick before he’s sinking between your lips again.  He does it again and again, pulling out slowly, admiring how your pussy looks when its empty and then stuffed full of him.

He does this for several moments, working you up and making you cry out his name in broken little whispers. 

“Please, Joel.”

"I made you come twice already," Joel reminds you with a teasing edge to his voice. "Now you’re gonna lay there and let me fuck you full a' my come, pretty girl." 

All at once you feel him tug the belt back abruptly, sending you sliding back along his length as he thrusts forward and buries himself to the hilt. He does this over and over until you hear the squelching sounds of him fucking into you. It’s obscene and dirty and you fucking love it.

"You gonna do that?" You hear the smile in his voice as his hips start to pick up the pace. "Gonna let me fuck you full?"

The bite of the leather against your skin mixing with the feel of Joel's hips slapping against your thighs is making you quickly unravel. 

"Yes, Joel!" You cry out, not in pain but in pleasure. 

You surrender to his thrusts, sliding back as he pushes forward, using the belt to keep you at the perfect fucking distance. You hear his panting and the sound of your sweaty bodies smacking against one another. 

"What a bad fuckin' girl," Joel taunts as his hips slap your ass over and over at increasingly quicker intervals. "Came twice and she's so cock drunk she's gonna gimme another one."

"N-no Joel," you manage. "Gonna make you come." 

"Don't think you can," Joel rasps with a husky chuckle. "Think my bad girl needs to soak my cock again."

You cry out at the sensation of his length hitting you so deep. But the burning desire to do good, to pleasure him overrides this. 

"Wanna make you come, Joel. M'not a bad girl," you tell him almost petulantly as you move up the bed with a particularly aggressive thrust from Joel.  

"Oh no?" he grinds himself against your ass, tugging the belt again. "Show me how good you can be." 

You slide yourself back against the length of him, smiling into the pillow when you hear his shaky inhale. You do it again, slowly welcoming him deep before sliding off, the tip teasing your entrance before you feel the tug of his belt, forcing you back.

"Uh huh that's my good girl," Joel pants, surprising you by landing a quick slap to your ass with his free hand. "Yeah, that's it. Fuck yourself on it for me."

Your ass bounces as you bow your back for him, desperate for him to take what he wants. You urge him deeper, moaning as his hand gives you another swat on the other cheek.

"Deeper," you beg him, not just to make him feel good but because you're so fucking close. 

"You’re so goddam good," he tells you as he buries himself, sawing in and out of your slippery cunt. He tugs the belt, pulling you back along his cock over and over. You cry out loud from the dual sensations of Joel's cock and the leather belt. 

You feel as a few of his fingers slide under the waist of the belt, holding you more firmly in place as he begins to jackhammer his cock into your slot deeper than ever. It makes your whimpers come out in little huffs, your body shaking with each plunge of him between your thighs.

"Take... It.... Just... Like .. That." Each word is barked out with a pump of his cock into your cunt. "Good ... Girl."

You give out sharp little grunts with every thrust of him from behind you, your hands fisting in the sheets as your eyes roll back. He holds you firmly by the belt, head tilted back as his cock kisses your cervix.

"Stay right there," he pants, hips rolling aggressively now. "N'make me feel good."

"Yes," you promise, breasts shaking as he fucks harder and deeper into you. His hips slap loudly in against your ass, his cock so thick and so soaked as he slides between your swollen folds. You keen as his cock forces itself deeper and he starts grunting louder, punched out with each thrust.

“Fuck, fuck I  love yo-“

He can't finish the sentence. He's coming hard, pulsing into you as he grips your body, his lips pressed to your cheek, gasping as he thrusts. Your arm goes to bend around his neck, your flesh jolting as he uses you to finish. You smile through your mutual panting, finding his mouth as you tilt your head.

“I love you too, Joel.”

///

You wake up the first few days after staying with Joel with a coiled tension in your body.

There is a small part of you that is terrified that this is all going too good. That perhaps now that you know Joel is getting divorced and the forbidden aspect of the relationship is over that it will dampen your ardor for him. That his biggest fears he had about you will come true. 

But they don’t.

If anything your capacity for loving him grows. Doing crosswords together over coffee in the morning, going for walks hand-in-hand in the park near his house. Laughing over something stupid on the TV, playing cards late into the night.

He tells you he loves you every morning and every night. He holds you in his arms when you drift off to sleep. You feel a safety and a contentment you’ve never experienced before. Always waiting for the shoe to drop, but it never does.

And of course there’s the fucking everywhere, almost as if Joel has a personal mission to make sure you come in every single room. You don’t mind at all. In fact you encourage it one morning by bringing out the snowflake skirt from Christmas that you packed at the bottom of your bag, giggling in your dorm.

You put it on over a tight white tank top and bend over in front of him to grab the milk from the fridge, giving a soft “morning baby.” You can feel his sleepy gaze from beside the coffee maker and you arch slightly, pretending to not see what you’re looking for. You’re just starting to wonder if he’s noticed you’re not wearing panties when you hear him fall to his knees behind you, turning you around and fucking you with his tongue.

Seems Joel isn’t bored either.

///

Bitch I miss u! [sadface.jpg]

Sarah attaches a sad-looking selfie to the text that makes you giggle. Your time in Austin is limited, only two weeks remain before you head back home, so you have to think to the future even if that’s the last thing you want to do.

I miss you more! How is Chile?

I love it! We went stargazing in the Atacama Desert last night! [desert.jpg]

Holy shit you look so hot!

(EMOJI) Must be all the Chilean sunshine. You should be out here enjoying with your guy.

You feel your throat tighten. You can’t tell her that things are going well with your ‘guy’. She’ll want a photo. And you know she’ll recognize her own fucking house in the background no matter where you stand. Same goes for any coffee shops or local hot spots. So you try to change the topic.

How's Charlie?

Not so good. He just got an email about the job he applied for. He didn't get it so he'll jobless in September. We’re both pretty upset.

I'm so sorry. 

You frown at your phone, reading your text from Sarah. She seems pretty down about the whole Charlie thing. Sarah’s always been a planner, so you know that changes like this can really set her off.  She and Charlie had planned on San Diego for their next steps and it had seemed like Charlie was a shoo in. Sarah was already talking about the cute apartment they were gonna get after their travels. Your heart breaks for your friend.

It’s okay. I just wanted to say I miss u. Hope ur having fun with your guy since you loooooooooooooove him so much. One day you’re gonna have to send me a photo for approval. Gotta make sure he’s good enough for u.

I promise he is.

The door to the bathroom opens just then and a waft of steam exits, along with the scent of bergamot and whatever else is in Joel’s shampoo. He’s wearing only his boxers and the towel is slung over his shoulder as he rubs at his damp curls.

“Mornin’ baby.”

You watch him go to the dresser and pull on his black Miller Construction t-shirt, biceps bulging.

You lay in bed, gazing up at a freshly showered Joel who looks and smells so fucking sexy your pussy throbs. His broad shoulders ripple under the strained t-shirt fabric as he drags a comb through his wet hair.

“Do you really have to go back to work today?”

It’s been two weeks of just existing in this blissful cocoon of eating and laughing and fucking. You don’t want it to end, but of course life has to intrude.

“F’raid so, baby. I’m the boss and I better show my face before they start likin’ Tommy better.”

“Not possible,” you tell him with a grin.

“But to make up for it, I’m takin’ you out tonight,” he tells you, his dark eyes staring at you in the mirror’s reflection.

“A date?” you’re on your knees now, hands excitedly clasped in your lap. “Where?”

He drops the comb on the dresser, coming to sit next to you on the bed. He grips your chin in his thumb and forefinger, dragging your mouth to his only to stop an inch from your mouth.

“S’a surprise pretty girl.”

“How should I dress?”

“However you want,” he shrugs before kissing you softly. You hold in an eye roll at this. Men just don’t understand fashion.

He prepares to stand but he smells so good and he looks even better. His curls are drying into soft little salt and pepper waves and you need to have him. You pull him back for another kiss, tongue’s dabbing.

“Do you really have to go right now?” you ask with a teasing lilt. Your hand drifts between his legs and you smirk when you see his eyelids flutter.

“Yes,” he says sternly, his hand covering yours.

“Just five minutes,” you urge, hands coming to unbuckle his jeans, drawing down the zipper and sighing when his warm cock comes alive in your palm.

“I-I have to go,” he breathes against your mouth. “I gotta-”

“Just lemme make you come,” you whisper, kissing his jaw. “I wanna make you come, Daddy.”

Joel tries so hard to regain his thoughts but you’ve started stroking and he’s powerless. It isn’t long before he’s driving you into the mattress, hips snapping against yours and moaning your name into your shoulder as he tells you time and time again that he’s late, that he has to go, that… oh fuck you feel amazing.

It’s an hour later when Joel finally rushes out of the house, still pulling down his t-shirt as he starts the truck.

///

You’re sitting on the couch, going through job applications for back home as you wait for Joel to arrive for your date night. You’ve only got a week or so left here in Austin before you have to go back to your depressing life. You need to have a plan, a place to rent. You can’t move back with your awful parents. Parents who haven’t sent you as much as an e-mail since your blow up at graduation.  

The doorbell rings, surprising you into dropping your phone. You wait a moment, eyes wide as you stare at the door. Joel has never told you one way or the other if you should answer it. What if it’s Tess? What if it’s a nosy neighbor?

Ding dong.

Fuck it. If it���s a neighbor you’ll tell them you’re a friend of the family. If it’s Tess…well… You don’t know what to do about that.

You straighten your dress, trying to look composed as you sail to the door, opening it a crack and peeking your head around.

Joel stands there on the front porch dressed in a pale blue button down and fresh jeans. He’s smiling widely at you and in his hands he holds a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Some yellow, some pink, but the ones that really call to you are the white sleepy looking ones.

“I’m here to pick you up for our date,” he rumbles, his eyes glittering. His eyes sail over your face and the sundress you’ve chosen. “Fuck you’re a knockout.”

You blush, taking the flowers from him as you open the door widely. “Thank you, they’re stunning.”

“The yellow ones are kerrias and those white ones? They’re called summer snowflakes,” he says as he watches you gazing at them.

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

You press a kiss to his eager mouth, his lips chasing yours when you pull off squealing.

“I’m gonna put them in water!”

You find a tall vase under the sink and arrange the bouquet inside, gazing at them with your cheeks hot. You’ve never been romanced like this. Conrad thought jewelry and expensive dinners were enough. Joel does those things but he does so much more. He remembers little things, he calls you beautiful, he cherishes you.

Joel is still standing by the front door as if this is a real date and you hurriedly rush back, pulling your purse over your shoulder. You take in his button down and jeans again, scrunching your nose in confusion.

“How-“

“Had the clothes in my car,” he tells you with a grin before offering his arm. “Ready to go, beautiful girl?”

///

He takes you to a food truck for dinner, not exactly what you were expecting, but certainly nothing to sneeze at. The streets are busy, lined with tourists all snapping photos, laughing, listening to the street musicians.

“They got the best tacos here,” he informs you as he passes you a carton holding several. “And there’s somewhere I wanted to show you.”

You follow him down the busy main streets of Austin, past the various folks that try to sell you trinkets. You come upon a group of people bustling around one specific site, a painted mural of a piece of toast saying “You’re my” and a dab of butter boating the words “Butter Half”. You grin at it.

“They did these murals all over Austin,” Joel explains as you approach it. “Some’ve been around for decades, some more recent. S’one of my favorite things about Austin. I look at ‘em all the time when I need a walk, or to clear my head. S’better than any art gallery, cheapter too.”

“Are there more?” you ask, taking a bite from your taco.

“Yep.”

As the two of you eat your dinner, Joel takes you through a walking tour of the neighborhood, pointing out the various murals that you pass. Some are funny, some political, some devastating.

Wherever you go people are posing in front of them, flashing peace signs and smiling broadly at phone cameras.  An especially popular one is the one on a green background with the red spray painted words: I love you so much. Compared to the rest of the colorful pieces its sweet in its simplicity.

“I like that one,” you muse.

“Me too,” Joel says, kissing your temple and taking your hand.  He grabs you an ice cream around the next block, watching as you grapple with not letting it drip down your palm in the summer heat.

You watch Joel’s face turn into a smile as you pass a woman with two children. One in her arms, the other tugging her towards one of the murals. You aren’t blind to the way his eyes get wistful, his mouth tight. You think of your conversation over spring break when he didn’t really answer your question.

"You really want more kids, don’t you?" You offer gently. 

"Uh, maybe, yeah," Joel shrugs, almost embarrassed at being caught out. "I mean, I had Sarah when I was nineteen goin' on twenty. Would be nice to be a dad when I'm not scrambling paycheck to paycheck with a wife who's got one foot out the door." 

You nod thoughtfully, your tongue coming to take a slow lick of your cone.

"Just so you know, it's not a deal breaker," Joel is quick to explain when you go quiet. "I mean if we... You know… You don’t need to want them." 

"But you just said you think you want another kid."

"I want you more." 

You feel your heart hiccup at that. You have to turn away so he doesn’t see how your eyes have grown glossy. Sometimes Joel says the perfect, most amazing thing and he doesn’t even realize it.

The subject is dropped for the time being. It feels like too much too soon.

"S'funny I've never been a PDA person," Joel muses as he runs his fingers along your spine as the two of you continue to walk. "But I can't keep my hands off of you."

"Same here,” you admit. “I used to hate it when Conr- when my ex would hold me around the waist when we walked. It felt so… possessive.”

“I’ll make a note of that,” Joel muses with a smirk.

“That’s different,” you say quickly, eyes wide. “I… I wouldn’t mind it if you did it.”

“You like me bein’ a little possessive of you?” Joel murmurs, smirking down at your increasingly red face. You give an airy shrug, hoping it conveys a sense of indifference.

“Maybe.”

His hand wraps around your waist, holding you against him as you keep walking. And it doesn’t feel like possession, it feels like love. Everything Joel does feels like love.

With your ice cream gone but your hand still sticky you come to another mural, this one a black painted wall with writing all over. The closer you get the more you can the details. It’s like the wall of the building has been painted like a huge chalkboard. Stenciled on is the same question over and over ‘Before I die _________”.

You can see there are so many answers in chalk all over it.

 Before I die I want to visit Australia.

Before I die I want to see Harry Styles in concert.

Before I die I want to write a book.

“You ever answered this?” you ask as you read more of the various scripts.

Before I die I want to make a change in the world.

Before I die I want to win the lottery.

“Yeah. Once.”

You turn to him when he doesn’t elaborate. He’s got a funny little look on his face, staring at the mural.

“When?”

“Little bit after Christmas,” Joel mutters, almost embarrassed. He tries to keep walking but you hold him steady by the wrist. He looks back over at you, his cheeks stained pink at the cheekbones.

“C’mon, tell me,” you urge with a gentle tap of your hip against his. “No secrets, remember?”

The day is quickly turning to night and Joel’s silhouetted in the golden hour, making him look almost angelic as he stands there. The deliberation is clear in his expression before Joel huffs a soft sigh, his mouth twitching into a crooked smile as he leans forward, his mouth at your ear.

“Before I die, I want to hold Snowflake one more time.”

Your eyes fill with tears as he pulls his face back from yours, his own eyes damp. You know how he must have been feeling last year. The same way you had been, only you’d convinced yourself it was one-sided. A fleeting infatuation.

How wrong you had been.

///

You and Joel haven’t brought up the fact that you have to leave soon. Three days in fact until your unofficial time with him is over. Three days left of kissing and hugging and whispers of fidelity and love are shared. Three days left of fucking him over every imaginable surface.

You want to distract yourself from the oncoming misery so you send him a text with items you’ll need to make him a special dinner. At six promptly the front door to the house opens and Joel comes walking in, weighted down with grocery bags.

“You’re sure you needed all this stuff?”

“Mhm,” you jump up from the couch, padding after him into the kitchen. “I wanted to make something special to celebrate our time together.”

Joel grins over at you, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he drops the bags on the counter. He leans forward and presses a peck to your mouth. You feel his tongue dab against yours and you know exactly what he’s up to.

“Get outta here,” you say pushing him gently and going to stand at the counter. “I gotta start cooking.”

“I just wanna watch,” Joel insists, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your middle. You want to deny him, but his hands are coming to the hem of your t-shirt, tugging it free from your skirt.

“Joel-“

"Remember when you sucked my cock right there?" Joel groans into your hairline, pressing you into the counter with his hips.

"Yeah," you whimper, feeling his hand curling around your panties and tugging them down over your ass.

"Fuckin’ filthy girl."

“Mhmmm,” you murmur, hand going behind you to slide down his front. His cock is already hard when you squeeze it through his jeans. "Wanted you to fuck me against it."

"We can make that happen," Joel grins against the crown of your head, pulling himself from his jeans. "You want that, baby?"

"Yeah."

"C'mon now," he breathes as he sheaths himself in your dripping pussy. "You be good an' loud for me. You tell me how good it feels." 

You do. 

Subsequently dinner is late, but delicious.

“Holy shit you could cook all this time?” Joel whistles between bites of cornbread and steak amongst your other homemade items. “You’ve been holdin’ out on me.”

“Maybe I just like your cooking better.”

“Mhm.” Joel gives a roll of his eyes at that.

Despite the both of you being stuffed from dinner and dessert, you still want to fuck him later that night. It feels like urgency as you think of time ticking away, but as you roll towards him in bed Joel doesn’t quite seem himself.

He’s looking at the ceiling, brows scrunched together. It makes you nervous even as you lay curled in his arms.

“What’s going on?”

“Huh?” Joel turns his attention to. “Nothin’ baby.”

You both fall quiet, your fingers twisting in the duvet. Your mind goes home to a house that feels cold and empty. To a bed that won’t have Joel in it. You try not to feel too devastated. You don’t want to ruin what precious time you have left.

You tilt your head, seeing that Joel is staring up at the ceiling again.

You shuffle to balance your chin on his sternum, gazing up at him under sleepy lids. You want to memorize his face, the way his chest falls when he breathes or the sweet, gentle way he’s gazing at you.

"What do you think of stayin' here a bit longer?" Joel whispers, hand coming to rub the hair over your ear.

"In bed?"

"In Austin."

"Like, for the rest of the summer?"

The thought makes your pulse pick up. You are in absolutely no rush to head back home to your parent’s house.  In no rush to leave Joel's warm arms and warmer smile. 

"Longer 'n that," Joel murmurs. Your brows knit together. 

"You said you were plannin' on doing your courses online," Joel explains. "And you were lookin' for a part time job but you didn't have one yet. So why not just do it all here? I know lots of people; I could find you a job easy." 

You stare at him a moment as you digest this. Joel is asking you to move in with him. And instead of fear or unease you felt at the thought of doing so with Conrad, your face blooms into a beaming smile.

"You've really been thinking about this," you say both touched and amused by him. You crawl up the length of him, wrapping your arms around him.  

He goes quiet, looking embarrassed for a moment before his arms tighten around you, holding you to him as he kisses your neck. 

"I'd love to," you answer with a soft peck to his lips.

“Yeah?”

"Yeah,” you grin, blinking back the wet. “I never wanna leave Austin...Or you… Or this bed." 

Joel's mouth finds yours, hands pulling you more tightly to him as if his joy can be expressed better physically. 

"And if it's too much stress don't worry about the job," Joel assures you between kisses. "I'll take care of you."

"Joel, I'm not gonna sponge off of you," you insist with a frown. "I'm not gonna be a kept woman. I'm gonna get a part-time job while I finish school."

"Well until then I've got a job for you," Joel says with a crooked grin as he pulls your hand over the hardening cock in his sweatpants. "One I know you're more than qualified for." 

///

The sunrise feels different in Joel's bed. You can't quite explain it. It's like the colors are more vibrant peeking through his blinds, the warmth more gentle against your skin. 

Joel is always wrapped around you, legs twisted, your head buried in his neck, as if even sleeping he never wants to be without you. The serenity of these first moments of consciousness never fails to amaze you. 

One morning you can't help but marvel at how beautiful he is when he sleeps. Plush lips parted, eyes softly shut, dark lashes fanning over his cheek. His golden body muscled and warm from slumber.

And he’s yours.

The concept overwhelms you and you find yourself pushing your body from the bed, energy forcing you to the kitchen where you put on a pot of coffee before padding into the living room. The sun hasn’t quite risen over the neighborhood yet. 

You sit on the window seat, shoulders loose and your head tilted to the side. Your hands are in your lap, loosely curled against your ankles, the percolating coffee forgotten as you take in the beauty of the morning.

You’ve never had things like this; quiet, peaceful mornings where the day stretches out before you full of sublime joy and possiblity. Always in school or at home with your parents or with Conrad. But with Joel you just exist, not beholden to anyone but yourself. 

This is what happiness is.

You hear footsteps pad slowly towards you and you glance up over your shoulder to see a mug of coffee extended in your direction, made just the way you like it. You take it along with the full lipped kiss he gives you. Joel’s eyes are sleepy small and his body is still warm from slumber.

"Watch the sunrise with me," you whisper. 

Joel nods before taking a seat next to you with your situating yourself in his lap, leaning back into his chest as the pink of the sky bleeds into blue. You sip your coffee slowly, reveling in the security of Joel's body, the steady rise and fall of his chest, at the way his muscled arms wrap around you like a cloak. 

You're both silent as the gold of the morning breaks through, casting everything in that hazy romantic light. You don't even notice the tears until they plop onto your bare leg. Joel must notice too because he cranes his head to peer into your face. 

"What's the matter, baby?"

His voice is early morning rumble. You sniffle before gazing up at him with a watery smile. 

"I'm just so happy." 

///

In early July Austin goes through a heat wave that leaves everywhere absolutely sweltering. It has you and Joel resting on the living room floor, the air conditioner and fans whirring around you. Joel wears nothing but shorts and you nothing but a skimpy pair of cut offs and tank top. But neither of you is feeling amorous.

The heat carries into the rest of the work week leaving Joel sweaty and exhausted when he comes home. The air conditioner is working overtime but the sticky heat lingers. It makes doing much seem impossible. You’ve been stuck inside the last few days, eating cold meals and trying to do as little as possible.

Joel doesn’t always have bad days at work, but when he does you want nothing more than to take the weight from his shoulders. You can tell it’s an especially bad one today because he kicks off his shoes and drops the toolbox at the front door.

“Bad day?”

“Tommy thought it would be great to sign off on tile that we can’t fuckin’ afford on this latest remodel,” Joel all but snaps, collapsing onto the couch with a groan.

“I’m sorry. Can I do anything?”

“Lower the price of fuckin’ tile?”

You don’t say anything to that. Suddenly you feel very small, as if this is somehow your fault. As if you do in fact control the price of tile. You glance around the house and see plates on tables, cups forgotten. You should’ve cleaned today instead of looking at jobs.

"Let’s go for ice cream after dinner," you offer, trying to rouse his spirits. “My treat.”

"S’too hot. It'll melt before we even get a lick in."

"Home Depot?" You suggest, knowing it’s one of Joel’s favorite spots to walk around.

"It'll be crowded and we might see some people I know."

It's a bit of a sore point between you two. Joel hasn't introduced you to anyone and you've made no effort to make him. You enjoy this little cocoon you've created and don't want anything to spoil it. The thing is you have an idea that Joel would like to start introducing you, but Sarah has to know first.

Neither of you is looking forward to that.

“Could make those boozy slush things we saw?”

“Nah,” Joel replies, sweat beading his forehead.

You’re feeling irritable from the heat and unhappy that Joel’s bad day has somehow translated into you feeling shitty.  

“Well you’ve shot down all my ideas why don’t you come up with one?”

“I just worked ten hours in the blistering sun. I’m sorry if I’m not in the mood to plan a fuckin’ date,” Joel snaps, sweat beading his forehead.  “Maybe if you gave me five fuckin’ minutes t-”

Whatever else Joel had been about to say is lost because you’re already striding from the room. Your legs feel like jelly and you are almost blind with tears. You rush to the guest room, slamming the door behind you. 

You throw yourself onto the bed; eyes squeezed shut as you try to even out your breathing. Your heart is pounding and you want to sob. But another part of you wants to tell Joel off, to tell him to go fuck himself.

You hear the door to the bathroom opening, then the shower running. You roll onto your back, eyes glaring up at the ceiling. Ten minutes pass before there’s a knock at the door. You pull yourself to a sitting position, holding your knees.

“Baby?”

You don’t answer. You don’t want to listen to him, to look at him. You’re furious at him for this and you’re terrified because this feels like your first real fight together.

When you don’t say anything he gently pushes the door open, dark eyes peeking around the door to see your tear-stained face glaring back at him. His brows saddle and he comes to the end of the bed, just looking down at you.

“So I guess that was our first real couple fight,” he offers guiltily.

“Yep.” You sniffle. "I don't like it."

"Me neither. I'm so sorry I snapped," he tells you earnestly, dropping to his knees beside the bed, but not touching you. "I know you were just trying to help. The stuff at work an’ the heat just got to me."

You shrug. “I didn’t give you space.”

“Space I’ve never asked for before? Nah, I was just bein’ an asshole," he says gently and you see the harshness leaving his handsome features. “Came home like a bear with a toothache. All you were tryin’ to do was make me happy.”

“Still.”

"I appreciated it,” Joel tells you gently. "Just maybe if I'm upset gimme time to cool off. I can have a bad temper at times an’ sometimes I just need to be in my head about it for a bit."

His hand grips your knee gently, squeezing to let you know all is well on his end. You allow it, feeling your animosity leaving you at the exchange.  

"Okay," you nod. "I can do that." 

"So I'm forgiven?"

"Always.”

You lift his hand from your knee and Joel smiles at you, accepting your gentle kiss to his palm without hesitation. He kisses you tenderly before pushing the sweaty hair from your face, his nose brushing yours.  

"I have an idea of how to cool off."

An hour later you're at the movies with its sweet, beautiful air conditioner and giant tubs of popcorn and sodas in your laps. You and Joel pick the next movie playing which turns out to be some superhero fair he enjoys. You smile when he laughs, watching out the corner of your eyes as he does, your heart light because everything with Joel feels possible. Fights seem manageable.

Life is beautiful. 

///

It’s the start of August when you start a part time job at a bookstore nearby. You and Joel discovered it during one of your lazy Sunday morning adventures where you try new coffee places.

 It’s a quick bus ride from your place, but Joel insists on driving you when he can. But today you’ve been let go early due to over-staffing. You don’t mind at all, taking advantage of the beautiful day.

You walk down the sun-dappled streets feeling buoyed. You walk past the strip mall, glancing at the stores that line it. You normally don’t pay attention, but today your gaze is drawn to the sultry photo of the model in the store window.

Where Sensuality meets Style.

You don’t know what you’re expecting to do when you go inside the shop. What you’re not expecting is to come out a half hour later with some of the most scandalous lingerie you’ve ever owned.  It’s black and strappy and shows more than it covers.

The second you get home you jump in the shower before primping. You take the lingerie out of the bag delicately, eyes wide with delight.

The lace black bra is completely see-through and the deep blush of your nipples are easily visible. There are decorative straps that hug the curves of your breasts. The panties match the fabric of the bra, low cut and barely covering your ass. Around your middle is a strappy black garter belt that matches the straps of the bra. You pull on the sheer black thigh-highs, attaching them before spinning, turning to see you from every angle in the bedroom mirror.

You look hot.

Your strappy high heels have been in the bottom of your bag, waiting for such an occasion. You tie them up, smiling to yourself. Joel is going to be very pleased. You pull on the black silk robe that came with your purchase, a thin little kimono-style that barely reaches your knees.

You’re just applying a deep shade of red to your lips when you hear Joel’s truck pull into the driveway. Your heart skips a beat and you quickly spritz yourself with the perfume Joel bought ages ago.

Showtime.

You hear the key starting in the lock and with a dramatic flourish you throw open the door as you undo your robe, letting your lingerie doing most of the talking for you. You strike a pose, hip jutting and tits out.

"Hope you're ready to get your cock sucked Mister Mill-" 

Your eyes blow wide when you see the man on the other side of the door isn't Joel at all. It's a younger man with similar eyes and curls, his hand raised and holding a key to the house that he was in the process of unlocking. 

The man averts his eyes to the ground politely before breaking into an embarrassed grin. You pull the robe around you tightly, cinching it and squeaking in humiliation.

"Now I see why my brother keeps rushin' home after work," the man says with an unsteady laugh. 

Brother. 

This is Tommy, Joel's brother that you've heard so much about. 

Fuck 

Sarah's uncle. 

Double fuck.

"I…uh..." You falter, terror running through you. 

Tommy looks immediately apologetic, his dark brows furrowed. 

"Hey now, there's no need to be embarrassed," Tommy assures you. "Joel's his own man. I ain't gonna tell him he's too old and ugly for a pretty young thing like yourself."

You wonder if you should make up a lie like you're the house cleaner. But no, you can't after you answered the door dressed like you are. 

Triple Fuck. 

"It's not just that," you say and suddenly you feel the blush heating your cheeks. "It's uh... "

"What the fuck is goin’ on?"

The two of you glance over to see Joel pulling his truck into the driveway beside Tommy’s. He nearly jumps out while it's still parking. His legs scissor quickly over the grass, nearing to you. 

You hear Tommy swear under his breath as his older brother advances. Joel sees you in the doorframe, your eyes wide. He glances down your body when he sees you’re wearing a robe before glaring at Tommy. 

"What the fuck are you doin' at my house?"

"Came to get those tools we talked about." Tommy tries to smother his smirk. "Didn't know you had company."

"You could've called." 

"Never had to before." 

“Well you do now.”

The two brothers stare at each other speaking through micro expressions. You worry that a fist fight is about to break out if you don't de-escalate the situation. 

“I’m gonna go change," you say with an awkward laugh.

"I'll grab the tools," Tommy mutters, wincing at the angered look from Joel. "Think they're in the back shed, yeah?"

"Or the garage. Can't remember."

The two continue talking lowly but you’re already in the bedroom with the door closed. Your cheeks are flushed and your heart is beating like mad as you go to the dresser to pull out some jeans and shirt, your hands trembling with anxiety.

What if Tommy tells Sarah?

She'll be devastated. She needs to hear it from you and Joel, not her uncle. 

You hear the bedroom door open behind you and you see Joel slip into the room, his dark eyes on you. 

"I'm so sorry," you say as he approaches you. "I thought it was you."

"Course you did," Joel murmurs, coming to stand next to you. "How could you have known my idiot brother would be breakin' in?"

"I'd hardly call it breaking in," you say with an eye roll. "He had a key."

"Not anymore." Joel frowns, his eyes noting the robe again. "Did you just wake up?"

"No," you say, suddenly shy. "I was... I was wanting to surprise you.”

Joel's gloomy mood is immediately broken. His mouth curves into a broad smile. 

"My girl," he coos, fingers pinching your chin softly. "So thoughtful." 

You want to say more but Joel's fingers are sliding down your neck, ghosting over your breasts and then at the sash untying quickly, eyes wide with anticipation. He practically tears it from you as you hold in a giggle. 

When Joel sees the lingerie underneath you feel his gaze turn ravenous. 

"This is what you were waitin’ to show me?" Joel murmurs, hands trailing down the front of your lingerie. 

"Yeah."

"Turn for me," Joel whispers. You spin gently in his arms, feeling flustered. He grips a handful of your ass, groaning at the sight as it falls. "Fuck baby. I don't deserve this." 

"You deserve more," you tell him, looking at him over your shoulder. 

You spin slowly in his grip, feeling his fingers drag along the sheer fabric. Joel casts an appreciative gaze at your breasts barely contained. He's groans feel the back of his throat, his hands cupping you through the fabric. He sees your nipples and latches his full mouth over one, sucking through the fabric. 

"Joel!" 

He does the same with the other, soaking the sheer fabric and leaving you panting. He twists you gently, his hand sliding over your covered mound. 

"Gonna let me fuck you, pretty girl?"

"Now?" 

"Mhmm," Joel murmurs against the shell of your ear. "Can't wait when you look that good." 

"I guess I could show you what I had prepared," you tease. 

He watches you slide onto your knees in front of him, hands deftly coming to his belt and zipper. 

Joel watches this with his mouth parted and his gaze electric as he watches you pull his cock from his jeans. He's rock hard and when you swipe your tongue over the head he hisses. 

You kiss the head gently, feeling him twitch with every graze of your full mouth over him. Your tongue comes out to give long, wet licks to the shaft and you hear him groan above you. You place him against your lower lip, watching the red bloom on his cheeks. 

You look the very picture of debauchery on your knees with his cock resting against your lips. 

"Can I please suck your cock, Joel?"

A full-bodied shudder goes through him at your husky plea. His hand comes to cup your cheek as he gives you a soft shake of his head. You're surprised at this and when he tilts, bringing you to a stand in his arms you furrow your brow. 

"Need to feel your cunt, baby," he says grazing his lips against yours. 'S'that okay?" 

You pause, indecision flirting across your features. You're not exactly quiet when Joe is inside you.  He turns you, holding you from behind and urging you towards the bed. But you pause, your pulse thrumming.

"Tommy might hear."

"He never should have come here," Joel tells you as he nuzzles the back of your neck. "His own fault if he hears somethin'."

"Joel!"

"Mister Miller," Joel croons against the shell of your ear and suddenly you understand. The dynamic that started all of this, fucking when you could be caught. He's throbbing against your back and you smile, grinding back against him. 

"You're so bad, Mister Miller," you coo, feeling as delicious goose bumps prickle all over, whimpering when Joel's palm cups your pussy through the fabric.

"Must be what you like, cuz you're soaked," he reminds you, nipping the flesh of your lobe. "Get on the bed for me, bad girl."

His hand moves from your pussy to slap your ass playfully. You barely hesitate before you shoot him a smirk and go to unbuckle your heels but Joel stops you with a firm shake of his head.

“Leave ‘em on.”

You grin up at him before turning onto your stomach, sure to arch appealingly as you crawl on all fours to the center of the mattress. Joel watches this from under heavy eyelids, his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans. 

You throw yourself onto your back, giggling softly when Joel comes to bracket your thighs with his own. He looks down at you with a heat in his eyes that you can feel burning within you. He leans over your body, warm and heavy and his head drops, mouth coming to lick your hardened nipple through the gauzy black fabric. The other is pinched with his free hand, worrying them both into straining points. 

He does the same with the other, attentive as you sigh in exhilaration. Your thighs band around his waist, holding him nestled against you. His hands are tugging the front of your lingerie down, exposing you to him. 

"Gorgeous," he breathes, huffing along your sternum, kissing down your stomach. It twitches under the contact. 

You give a small gasp of surprise when Joel tugs you by the ankles until your ass is at the edge of the bed. His hands slide up your black thigh highs, inhaling as he looks you over. He brings your legs to either side, hooking your heels at his shoulder before kissing each ankle bone sweetly.

He begins subtly licking his lips in anticipation as he views you, eyes taking their time to see you pliant and waiting for him. His thumbs hook in the waist of your thong, tugging it off officiously over your ass as you squirm excitedly below him. He brings them off over your ankles and shoes, the heels at his ears.

"Wrists together," he murmurs, the black edging out the remaining brown of his eyes.  

You exhale slowly, trying to calm the flush going through your body. You hold out your wrists to him, your own eyes bright. 

Joel smirks down at you before binding your wrists securely with your panties. The fabric is taut around your wrists as you raise your arms above your head, letting them fall back on the mattress.  

"We shouldn't be doing this," you tell him, playing into it as you gaze at him through hooded eyes. "Shouldn't fuck me when he could hear, Mister Miller."

"Maybe I want him to hear," Joel replies smoothly, surprising you. "Maybe I need him to know why he doesn't come bargin' into my house." 

You giggle up at Joel, watching him bring his cock from his pants. He's remarkably hard, the head weeping as he guides it to your entrance. You’re practically folding in half, your legs against his chest, his cock teasing your clit.

"Spread those legs for me," Joel murmurs with adoration in his eyes. "Lemme see how wet she is." 

"Yes, Mister Miller."

Your thighs part and he gives a heavy sigh at the sight, his hands holding your ankles against his shoulders. You lay there bound and exposed to him and you've never felt safer. You exist in the harbor of his love, protected.

Joel's one hand goes to your inner thigh, sliding until it reaches the seam of your cunt. You give a soft whimper as his fingers drive forward, grazing your clit.

"Fuckin' perfect."

Those same fingers begin to curl, coaxing more delicious whimpers from you. Joel watches this all with eager interest, his cock weeping at the sight of you restrained and spread wantonly for him. When he adds a third finger you feel your thighs begin to quake. 

"Don't make me wait anymore," you beg needfully through moans. "I need your cock. Please." 

Joel slowly removes his fingers, slipping them from you to wrap around the base of his cock, drenching it in your arousal before he leads it between your trembling thighs. 

"Anythin' you want, baby," Joel grins down at you. "Anythin' you want."

Joel slides into you with ease. It's not shocking; you're already dripping for him. He lets out a groan before his hands go to your thighs, parting them further, allowing him to thrust deeply, his ass clenching as he bottoms out in you. The two of you give a soft gasp at the sensation. 

“Never felt this good,” he tells you, eyes heavy. “Not with anyone.”

His palms slide down your thighs, grazing over your calves until they come to stop at your ankles. Joel takes one in each hand, pressing a kiss to the delicate anklebones before he's parting your legs obscenely until you’re almost doing the splits below him, your pussy glossy and pink and full of his cock. He holds you open like this, eyes ravenous as he continues to sink into you.

“Attagirl,” he croons as his head tilts back. The sensation is divine and you let him guide your movements, your hands on the bed and your legs held spread by Joel. From this angle you can see him enter you slowly, shaft glistening as he strokes in… and pulls out, grazing your clit.  

"So full," you whimper, eyes rolling and back arching off the bed. He feels so good, so perfectly thick between your legs when he does it again. "So good."

He grips your ankles tightly, dark eyes peering down as he stands next to the bed. Your tits bounce with every drive of his hips into you. 

"Take it all, baby" Joel grunts down at you. "Make me proud." 

He’s still standing, still slightly tilted over you beside the bed. It’s impossible to touch him, only to lay there, spread-eagle with Joel’s cock driving into you over and over, deeper and deeper.  Sweat begins to shine along his shoulders as he fucks into you, little groans escaping him as he watches your body ripple under him.

"J-Joel!" You groan out, hands groping the sheets.

"Not my name," Joel grunts, his hips slamming into your ass. 

"M-Mister m-M-ah-Miller!"

He's going faster, his soaked cock pistoning in and out of your cunt as your body rocks against him. Your hands are in the blanket, gripping there tightly as Joel holds you wider as his pace quickens. Your hips burn, your thighs strain but you crave more. You glance down again, watching as he saws in and out of you, his cock dripping with you arousal.

"Takin' it so well," Joel grunts out loudly when he sees you watching. "Pussy is just fucking milkin' my cock today, pretty girl."

At the sound of your groan in response he fucks into you furiously, balls slapping your ass and making sharp smacking noises in the quiet bedroom. It’s this sound which brings you back to yourself, recalling that Tommy is likely in the house at this very moment, tools in hand.

"You gotta be q-quiet!" You whimper between his deep thrusts. Joel may be fine with his brother hearing the two of you fuck but you certainly aren't. 

"Nuh uh," Joel grins almost ferally. "Not in my house... Wanna hear my bad girl scream my name."

It’s so fucking wrong.

"Say my name," Joel urges. "Wanna hear it when you come."

You're brain goes fuzzy, knowing what Joel requested. But a pleasure is building between your legs and drifting into your veins. It makes your mind work sluggish, unable to form the right words.

“I’m gonna come-“

“For who baby? Say it?” Joel demands, and now he fucks you hard, his balls tightening when you bounce on his cock.

"Daddy!"

Both sets of eyes blow wide at this. Neither of you were expecting that to be the honorific you groaned loud enough for Tommy to hear. But the sound of it is potent and Joel grips your hips tightly in his hands and fucks you deep.

"Fuck yeah you are," Joel grunts out obscenely. "Give it to Daddy."

You try to cover your mouth but Joel is thrusting so quickly, so deep your hands fly to gain purchase on the mattress. 

"You're so deep," you moan, your breasts rolling as he pumps into you. "It's so good!"

You know that if Tommy is still in the house he's heard everything. But you don't care, all you can do is look where Joel has you spread lasciviously, his soaked cock pumping in and out of you. 

"Come on my cock, come on Daddy's cock," Joel chants in a hush, sweat shining on his brow. "Need it baby, Daddy needs it now." 

Joel's collar and neck are pink, his cheekbones red. His teeth are clenched and bared as he watches himself fuck into you. His biceps are curled, holding your thighs widely open for him. 

He's magnificent. 

His eyes roll back a moment, his hips stuttering a moment. He's getting close. 

"Come for me," Joel groans out, his eyes stuck on yours. "Be a good girl and come for Daddy."

And suddenly you can't stop yourself. Your hands are clutching the blankets and your body is arching off the bed violently as your orgasm takes you over. 

"Fuck, Daddy! I'm coming!" 

Joel gives a broad grin before grunting your name as he spills inside you with your trembling legs still spread wide, ankles held by Joel's large palms. 

Finally he comes down, his panting heavy as he collapses into the bed next to you. He brings you over to him, wrapping you in his arms and grinning in your hair. 

"That'll teach Tommy to come over unannounced."

///

The two of you are on the sofa; your head is resting on a pillow in his lap. He's watching the news on TV while you scroll through your text messages. The two of you were out in the backyard today, Joel mowing the grass while you did some sunbathing. The two of you are sunburned and sleepy from it.

Sarah and Charlie are in a club. The lights are low and colorful. The image is slightly fuzzy. Sarah is being held in Charlie's arms and she holds up a glass of something alcoholic judging by the way she's peering into the camera, mouth in a sloppy smile.

Looks like you're having fun!

Chapter c ch jjj JG da

Hah yeah, Sarah's drunk. Luckily Charlie looks in control of his faculties in the photo. 

"Is that Sarah?" Joel asks his eyes catching the edge of your phone. 

"Yeah."

"Lemme see," Joel says reaching for the phone. "She didn't send me a photo today, just a message about some museum."

He's fake pouting, irked that you've received something from Sarah while all he's had this week are texts. His brows rise when you pull your phone out of his reach, holding it against your chest.

"She's... This isn't a photo she'd want her dad seeing."

Joel's face immediately contorts into disgust and you burst into laughter. 

"Not like that," you say between wheezes. "She's at a club with Charlie and they're both drunk. I don't know if she'd want her dad seeing her wasted."

"Yeah probably not," Joel relents after some thought. 

It's the first time you've been the bridge between them. A spy working on both sides. It makes you feel funny, like its wrong that you love both of them. While your love for each is not the same in nature, they have both carved parts for themselves within your heart. 

“Baby?” Joel murmurs from above you.

“Yeah?”

“I need you to know that I’m serious about you n’ me.”

You glance up to his face before pulling yourself into a sitting position next to him. Your heart melts as he gazes at you.

“Me too.”

“So I wanna tell Sarah about us,” Joel says quietly. “I don’t like lying to her.”

He must see the terror in your face because his hand falls over yours.

“Doesn’t need to be while she’s off havin’ an adventure. Don’t wanna spoil that for her. But she gets home soon and when she does, I wanna tell her. If nothing else about this relationship, we're at least gonna do this part right." 

"It's too soon," you tell him with a flutter in your chest. 

"I wanna hold you in my arms out in the open," Joel murmurs against your temple. "I'm tired of keepin' you a secret, like we’re doin’ something wrong. I love you and that ain’t wrong.”

You feel yourself turn to a puddle at his feet when he tells you that. 

"I love you too." 

"Sarah talked about coming back here before her job starts up," Joel explains. "Just for the weekend. I think I need to tell her then."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'll invite her over for dinner and we'll talk."

"What if she's upset?"

"She probably will be," Joel says, sighing heavily. The thought of his daughter being upset with him churns his guts. They've been through so much together, but that's why keeping you a secret is so hard. 

"But I can't keep lying to her."

"I know." 

“So it’s decided,” Joel tells you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “When Sarah comes home next week we’re gonna tell her.”

“Yeah,” you nod resolutely. “We’ll tell her then.”

///

There are few people in this world that Sarah Miller can depend on. 

After her mother left when she was a toddler Sarah’s always had a feel of being forgotten. Of being left behind.

Her dad is someone she can depend on.  Always there if she needs to talk, helping her set up furniture, there when her heart has been broken, there when she needed money or someone to help her buy a car.

He's a good dad. A good man.

And so when the taxi pulls into the driveway on Rancher Street Sarah breathes a sigh of relief at the familiar windows and freshly varnished front porch. A classic Joel move that he does every summer.

She’s several days early since she caught the earlier flight to surprise him. She can’t wait to see him after all these months away. She’s missed him and his silly jokes, his dumb DVD’s and the way he always listens as if she’s the most interesting person in the world.

One the few phone calls she’s made home he’s seemed different as of late. More spring in his step, more smiles, quicker to laugh. She figures it must be the divorce from Tess. The woman had never really understood Joel, even if she was perfectly kind.

Sarah throws her bag over her shoulder, heading into the house.

It’s not just the excitement of being home that has her almost three days early. It’s also because she just got the news that she was hired here at a clinic in Austin. One that pays well and offers benefits and makes her really really happy just at the thought. 

Unfortunately during their time this week Charlie was offered a temporary position over in Santa Fe. An equally amazing opportunity and one that he couldn’t possibly refuse considering his other job fell through. Both of them had been glassy eyed as they realized their time apart would stretch well over six months. 

"It'll go fast," Charlie insisted over dinner one night that Sarah was feeling especially down. "Six months is nothing. And then I'll be back in Austin and ... I think we should move in together." 

Sarah thinks of her dad living in the house by himself and it breaks her heart.

No Tess and eventually, no her. 

///

Your favorite thing about Sunday is that you and Joel take full advantage of it being his day off. You sleep in, tangled in each other's arms. You usually wake up to Joel's mouth on your neck, kissing gently before whispering your name and a raspy "you up, baby?"

He never does anything more until you confirm you're awake, and then he waits for you to take the lead. Sometimes it's a kiss to his cheek and the announcement that you want to go out for croissants at that new coffee shop you both discovered.

Sometimes you press your hips to his and urge him inside you, both of you rocking to a slow and sleepy orgasm. He holds you against his slumber-warmed body as he murmurs how good you are for him, how perfect you feel. 

On Sunday afternoons you lay with your legs over his on the couch. He usually has a book in one hand, the other gently resting on your calf, tracing absently. You’re usually reading your Kindle, eyes wide when you come upon something surprising. Your breathing elevates and Joel always hears it. 

"What's goin' on now?"

"She just found out she has to stab three faeries in the heart with wood daggers."

"Shit, really? Here I thought the whole puzzle-lever thing was bad."

There's something about his focus on you, the intense desire to learn everything you have to share. This support, this focus, it makes you fall even harder for him. It makes your eyes go glassy and unfocused. 

He knows the look. It makes him close his book with a muted slap, dropping it beside the couch before he's tugging your pants down and burying his face between your thighs until you cry out, fingers twisted in his curls. 

In the evening you cook together, something your parents never did. It’s usually something easy like chicken or pasta as the radio hums behind you. On nice nights Joel BBQs with you bringing him a beer as he smiles at you, commenting that he's spoiled rotten. 

Then it's TV or a movie and then to bed where more often than not, Joel urges you onto his lap where he lathers praise all over your body as your hips roll over his. 

Or if you're both tired he simply drags you into his arms and whispers how he can't believe he got this lucky, how happy he is, how beautiful you are. He touches you with affection and care and you repeat much the same, feeling as if your heart could burst. 

It's perfect and quiet and peaceful and you've never felt like this. So safe in his arms, so protected. 

This Sunday however is different. You wake up to an empty bed. You frown, sad not to feel the warmth of his body against yours. 

Maybe he's making breakfast, you think. He does this sometimes, waking you with strawberry waffles. But there's no noise from downstairs, no lingering aroma of sugar and syrup.  Its possible he’s working on emails for the business.

So you stretch languidly before pulling yourself from the warm nest of the bed. You brush your teeth, before padding downstairs. You hear shuffling in the kitchen and smile as you enter. 

"Baby, let's go to that bakery, again" you croon sleepily sauntering into the kitchen wearing nothing but Joel's oversized Miller Construction t-shirt and your panties. "I wanna see if they have those cro-“

The second you see a figure standing by the sink the words die on your tongue.

“Sarah?”

At first Sarah doesn't connect the dots. She's confused to see you here at her house, her mind trying to connect the dots of why her college roommate is here at her house wearing her dad's clothes. For an insane moment she’s actually excited you’re here, thinking that you must have come here for her and she steps towards you, her smile bright.

Then she sees the look of absolute terror crossing your features and Sarah looks to the counter to see two emptied wine glasses probably from last night. She sees the small touches around the home like your jacket slung over the dining chair, a lipstick tube by the microwave.

She takes in how your hair is mussed, like you just woke up here. And then suddenly, belatedly, Sarah puts two and two together. She steps back from you as if you're a stranger who's broken into her home. 

"What the fuck?"

"Sarah I can explain-"

Like some terrible farce, the front door is unlocked and pushed open at that very moment and Joel's voice rings out. 

"I got coffees but they didn't have any of those croissants you liked from last time," Joel calls out to you, his voice turning teasing. "Maybe tomorrow if you're a good girl-"

Joel enters the kitchen with a smile on his face that immediately drains when he sees Sarah standing beside you looking horrified. 

"Sarah?"

He drops the coffees he was holding, letting the steaming contents fall to the ground where no one attempts to pick them up. The drinks just seep it into the tile floor as the three of you cast eyes to one another. 

Everything in you wants to run to Joel, to have him hold you during this awful moment. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. You were supposed to be prepared and respectful, not in the middle of some domestic fantasy with the scent of sex still clinging to the both of you. 

And when you see the pure anguish in Joel's eyes when he looks at his daughter you want to vomit. In this moment you would take it all back. The fucking, the kissing, the loving, you'd erase it all if it means Joel never has to experience this pain. 

He takes a tentative step forward to Sarah, blinking furiously for a moment as he steadies his breathing.

"Sarah-"

"What the fuck is going on, Dad?" 

Joel's lower lip trembles as he thinks of how to explain this. But how can he without hurting her? 

"Sarah I can explain," you stay, shrinking when she turns her suddenly furious eyes on you. 

"Well, someone'd better."

You've known Sarah for years. She's been pressed, angry, frustrated. But you've never seen her like this. With the kind of fury that makes you shrink back from her. The kind of anger that radiates off of her and causes you to lose your courage momentarily. 

"Y-your dad... Joel and I are seeing each other," you say wincing at how pathetic that sounds. "We're together."

Seeing each other? You're in love with him. He asked you to live with him. You want to build a life together. You want to marry him one day, even though you’ve never voiced it.

"You're seeing my dad," she repeats slowly giving a mirthless laugh. "You don't even know my dad."

"Honey," Joel says and you both glance up at him. You cringe as Sarah realizes this the same time you do. 

"This is disgusting," she utters with a shudder. She looks at Joel with a look of absolute disbelief. "She's my age, Dad."

"I didn't-" Joel falters and he casts a desperate look in your direction before he's looking back at his daughter. "It's not an age thing."

"Right."

"S'not," Joel insists honestly. 

She stops and you feel your stomach sink when recognition flashes across her anguished face. She looks over at you, grimacing.

"Joe," she says barely above a whisper. "That night I heard you at the bar you weren't saying Joe. You were saying Joel."

"Sarah-"

"How long has this been going on?" Sarah’s voice is up two octaves. "How long?"

"Christmas." 

"Christmas?" Sarah looks ill. "You've been fucking my roommate in secret for almost nine months?" 

"Sarah," Joel warns. "I know you're angry but-"

"I'm not angry!" Sarah insists. "I'm disgusted. You're like twenty years older than her, dad."

"Eighteen," you offer quietly. The dark looks they both give you assure you that your addition was unnecessary. And suddenly Sarah’s attention is on you, her fury focused on the woman wearing her dad’s clothes.

"I brought you here to my house after Conrad dumped you because you said you were so heartbroken and you fuck my dad?" Sarah seethes. "You make it so he gets divorced?"

"Tess and I were headin' that way for a while babygirl," Joel interjects. "Long before Christmas."

"Who made the first move?"

Joel and you exchange a look and it's your cheeks that heat and your eyes that drop to the floor. 

"Me," Joel lies. You don't want to argue with him right now, but you both know it sure as hell wasn't Joel who started things. 

It was you who forced yourself into his room. You who begged him to let you suck his cock. You who rode him, demanding his come. Joel had come around eventually, but there was no question on who initiated things. 

"It was me," you insist. "I pursued him."

Sarah is staring at you with glassy eyes, chin wobbling and the sight of it devastates you. "I thought we were friends."

Now you feel your eyes growing damp. "We are-"

"Friends don't sleep with their friends dads!" Sarah insists and before you can answer she's whirled around to face Joel. "And what the fuck dad? Since when are you one of those midlife crisis guys?"

"S'not a midlife crisis," Joel explains. 

"No?"

"No," Joel says sharply. "This ain't some casual fling. I'm in love with her."

Even though he's told it to you so many times, hearing him say it out loud to someone else has your eyes spilling over with tears. Fuck you wish you were holding him right now. 

"In love," Sarah scoffs with a tremor in her voice. "Bullshit."

She spins quickly and before either of you can reply she's jogged out of the house, slamming the door behind her. The tears are in Joel's eyes along with a heavy dose of panic shot your way.  

"I have to-"

"Don't have to explain," you urge him. "Go."

Joel nods and before he leaves he turns briefly, eyes cast to you. He marches to you and kisses gently and all too briefly. 

"I love you."

And then he's gone, his body striding from the room after Sarah. Only once the door is closed behind him do you allow the sobs to escape.

///

Joel returns hours later to find you sitting on the couch, dressed and looking into space. You’ve packed all your things in your suitcase and duffle. Your clothes are clean and you try your best not to cry when you see him.

He looks exhausted, his eyes red-rimmed and puffy. You can tell he’s been crying, or trying not to, all day. He looks at you sitting there waiting and you see his brows saddle. You don’t go to him, don’t approach him. You wait for him to sit next to you on the couch.

“Come here.”

Only then do you launch into his waiting arms, letting him bring you into his lap. You straddle him, but it’s not sexual. You do it so that you can hug him tightly, your chests pressed together, hearts beating in tandem.

"She was coming home cuz she got a job out here," Joel explains, your head tucked under his chin. "She uh, she's wanting to move back home for a few months. Til Charlie’s back from Santa Fe.”  

“Makes sense.”

You feel Joel swallow and you pull back, still seated on his lap facing him. He looks so lost when you gaze at him, hand coming to cup his cheek.

“What is it, baby?”

"She says she's not gonna come in the house until you're gone," he says with a tremor in his voice. You see the sheen begin in his eyes, the way he blinks it back rapidly.  

"I don't know what to do," Joel murmurs. 

"You know exactly what you have to do," you answer for him, sounding stronger than you actually feel. "She's your daughter Joel. She had your heart long before I did." 

You both know that this is it. This is the end of your story. For Joel, Sarah's welfare will always be his top priority and if you're honest, you wouldn't respect any other choice. 

"It's okay, I already packed my bags," you answer. Joel looks struck dumb, his brows knitted together.

"You did?"

"After I saw Sarah's reaction I just knew," you say sniffling, your fingers going to a stray thread in the collar of his t-shirt. You twist it around your finger, watching the blood pool in your fingertip. "There’s no way for this to go on without hurting her.”

"I think maybe ... Maybe if we give it a few weeks," Joel tries to reason, but you stop him with your fingers gently coming to press against his full lips.  

"Joel."

You both know it won't be a few weeks. The damage done to Sarah is deep. You both know that just from seeing her reaction. You know that your continued presence here will only increase the divide between them and you know you can't do that to the man you love. 

If she’d come home when she was originally planned there was a maybe it could work. If they’d presented it confidently, holding hands, a united front. If they’d explained it calmly instead of being found out and acting guiltily maybe there was a chance she would have come around. But now? After what she stumbled upon? You can’t say that you would be any different.

Your hand moves from his mouth to cup his cheek once more. The rasp of his beard tickles your palm as you hold him, gazes stuck on one another.

"It can't be over," Joel says, his voice thick with emotion. "I can't give you up. I just found you."

Your heart breaks at those words coming from the man who wants nothing more than to take care of you, to love you. 

"You have to," you say, sniffling. "I never want you to choose between me and Sarah. It's an unfair ask."

You also know that he will always pick Sarah. He has to, he's a father first, your boyfriend second. You see it in the resigned way he clenches his jaw. It’s why you love him – that devotion, that love.

Joel falls silent a moment, his fingers tracing the small snowflake pendant you haven’t taken off since he gave it to you.

"But she has no right to be upset," Joel insists after a moment. "You're grown, I'm grown, we're both single-"

"You're in the middle of getting divorced and I'm your daughter's best friend," you tell him flatly. "And she found out completely by surprise that we've been together for months and that we'd been having an affair when you were married to Tess."

Joel is solemn. Hearing it all out loud sounds so harsh, so vulgar. But it's the truth and you won't hide from it.  Your head is on his shoulder, cheek pressed against the soft fabric.

"She has every right to be upset. I would be if I were her."

And while it's true, it doesn't stop the hurt. It doesn't stop Joel from trying to think of an alternative.

"I could put you up in an apartment in town and-"

"And drain your bank account? Make you sneak around and lie to Sarah?" You shake your head gently. "I won't let you do that, Joel. And I won’t hide away like a dirty secret, terrified of being found out." 

Joel’s eyes are shut tightly, as if he's trying to block out this entire day. 

"We had months of happiness and love together and maybe we have to just be thankful for that." Your voice is quivering.

"S'not enough," Joel insists, his arms around your waist, pulling you against him. "I want you here with me. I need you." 

Tears are falling down his cheeks at the same rate as yours. Even as your lips tremble and your view of him becomes a watercolor blur, you press on.

"Maybe this is what we have to live with after what we did, Joel. Maybe we don't deserve a happy ending."

This is what breaks Joel and you see the light fade from his dark eyes. You see the way his face sobers as you both realize there's no coming back from this. 

You don't want to prolong this heartache. You want to go and cry somewhere private. You want to regroup. 

"I'm gonna call a taxi to the airport hotel."

"I'm drivin' you."

"No Joel," you say, shaking your head. "I... It'll be too hard. I need us to say goodbye here and now." 

You know that if he drives you you'll invite him into the hotel room. You'll fuck all night, making sorrowful promises, extending the pain. You need to sever it quickly. 

Joel sniffles softly before nodding. His eyes are wounded, large and imploring. 

"Can I call you?"

"I don't think it's a good idea." Even as you say it you feel your heart crumbling. "Not for a little while anyway. If Sarah found out..."

"Right."

You see the mixture of pain and frustration in his dark eyes. Your hands go to either side of his face, holding him, thumbs grazing his stubbled cheeks. 

"Don't be upset with her," you urge. "She's done nothing wrong. And she loves you more than anything."

"I know." His voice is soft and you know that nothing in this world could make him care less for his daughter. It's one of the things you love most about him. You lower your hands from his face. 

The two of you lapse into silence and finally Joel brings out his phone and presses it a few times. You crawl out of his lap and the two of you stand beside the couch. Joel murmurs a few things into the phone before hanging up.

"Taxi'll be here in ten minutes."

Joel brings you into his arms, holding you tightly to him and rocking back and forth. For the next ten minutes you hold one another, your face buried in his the crook of his neck. 

"I'm never gonna stop lovin you," Joel tells you plainly, mouth against your temple. "Even if I never get to see you again. I need you to know that." 

You want to say so much to him but your throat has closed up entirely. You want to thank him for loving you. Want to thank him for showing you what real love looks like. 

He kisses you with the regret of years of his love unfulfilled. He kisses you with the desperation of a man who knows his time is up. He kisses you with all he has and then he releases you and now you find the words 

"I'll love you forever, Joel."

Because you will.

He follows you onto the sun baked driveway, the two of you walking past Sarah in Joel's truck. You see her swollen, tearstained face and feel guilt start anew. You never wanted to hurt your friend like this. The only real friend you've ever had in your life. The loss of her friendship is its own kind of pain that burns deep.

Joel fights the urge to touch you, to kiss you again; you can sense it in the way he stands so close to you as the driver loads your suitcase into the trunk of the taxi. 

"Goodbye."

He can't help himself. His hands go to either side of your face, holding you there as he moves his lips over yours, kissing you fiercely. You let him, your hands gripping his waist as he tastes you one last time. 

When the driver gives a loud cough Joel pulls back, his eyes wet again. There are no words left. Only the sorrow of your dual gazes as his thumb strokes your cheek. 

"Promise me you'll find someone who makes you happy," you tell him in a rushed whisper, holding him tightly. "Someone who makes you laugh and feel good and wants to have babies with you."

"I'm not-"

"Promise me Joel," you tell him firmly. 

"Only if you promise me you're gonna find someone who treats you right," Joel all but begs. "No more fucking Conrad’s. No more boys that don't appreciate how fucking perfect you are." 

"No one could ever love me like you do," you tell him through broken sobs and Joel wraps his arms around you. You go to wrap your arms around his waist until you see that Sarah is watching the two of you from the truck with a disgusted look on her face. You pull back from him, trying to summon all your composure.

Maybe it was always meant to end like this. Maybe it's exactly what you deserve for selfishly starting this all last Christmas. Part of you thinks that it’s not fair. That your love should overcome this. But then a larger part feels like it's what you deserve.

Happiness this wonderful doesn't deserve to last. 

“Goodbye, Joel.”

Shielding your eyes from the sun you cast one last look at Sarah over your shoulder, hoing she sees that this isn’t some fling. Praying that she sees the love you and Joel have for one another as she bursts out of the truck and forgives you both.

But instead she glares furiously at you, making your stomach sink as you accept that this is the only possible decision. 

You crawl into the taxi, pulling the door shut and give him the address for the airport hotel. You can't look at Joel but know that he's standing there staring into the cab. 

As the taxi pulls away from the curb you finally tilt your eyes and watch as Joel's form grows smaller and smaller in the back window until he's nothing but a mirage. His voice stays with you though, even and tender and husky.

I’m never gonna stop lovin’ you. 

You absently finger the silver pendant around your neck, musing darkly that snowflakes never last that long.

@fanficaddictmwah @southernbe

@oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff

@604to647

@survivingandenduring

@weirdoneattheparty @lilipads

@cinnamongorll @katiexpunk

@emotrash1 @booksaremyfood

@mellymbee @ashleyfilm

@magpiepills @sptbear

@getitoutofmymind

@deansimpalagirl

@sunnysinbar

@almostempty

@sofinkatomanovv

@joeldjarin

@akah565

@swankyorange

@flizzie-cakes

[milswrites]

My Beautiful Girls

~ Cassian x Single!MumReader

Summary: An anxious Cassian meets your daughter for the first time.

Warnings: Fluffy goodness

Notes: For the ultimate Cassian girly @sarawritestories

"Hi, I'm Cassian. It's nice to meet you!"

The Illyrian General smiled crookedly as he spoke, clammy hands trembling around the flowers trapped within his steel-like grip.

"Fuck . . . fuck . . . Come on Cas, you can do better than that."

Slowly unfurling his wings, Cassian lightly shook them in the hope of brushing away his steadily growing nerves.

"Breathe Cas, breathe" the male exhaled deeply, rolling back his tense shoulders before locking his determined eyes onto the closed door in front of him, "Hi, I'm Cassian! I've heard so much about you!"

A groan of frustration tore from Cassian's lips, shoulders slumping in dejection as he miserably dropped the flowers to his side.

Cassian had seen his fair share of carnage, having stared death in the face a plethora of times and still lived to tell the tale. Yet no battle, nor life-threatening experience, could have prepared him for the terror he felt in this moment.

The great Lord of Bloodshed riddled with fear at the prospect of meeting your sweet little girl, so only for her not to like him.

It was almost laughable, thinking back to how confident he was when you had first brought up the topic of him meeting your daughter. Cassian recalled flashing you a toothy grin, eyes bright and laugh carefree as he promised you that all children loved him. He was, after all, Nyx's favourite uncle.

Yet now, standing before the door to your home, Cassian wondered if he would ever find the courage to enter. Every possibility as to how this introduction could go wrong festered in the male's worrisome mind, until his poisonous thoughts left his wings twitching with the desire to fly away and hide from his fears.

But Cassian couldn't bring himself to flee, not if it meant losing you.

So here he stood, the icy winter air uncomfortably nipping at his wind-kissed cheeks, rehearsing exactly what it was he would say to your daughter when he first met her. Seeking to gain back some control in the face of his uncertain future.

Adamant that he would not be the one to ruin the one good thing in his life, Cassian drew in a long shaky breath before trying again, "Hi sweetheart, I'm so glad I get to finally meet you."

"Right back at you gorgeous"

If the sight of the Illyrian General practicing a mental script to recite to your five year old daughter didn't bring you to the brink of laughter, seeing the way he startled at your sudden appearance did.

Cassian stumbling backwards as you pulled open your door to great him, cheeks flushing a deep rouge as though you had just caught him in a compromising position.

It was only once your laughter had subsided, and the low grumblings of embarrassment from the male's lips had ceased, were you then able to greet him. Your warm lips coming to meet his own frozen ones in a soft kiss, the action working to further deepen Cassian's flustered blush.

An impatient shout from inside pulled you from your kiss, a light chuckle leaving both of your lips as you quickly glance inside to where your daughter was waiting, "She's been talking about this all day you know? I've never brought anyone home to meet her before, she's really excited."

Your gaze falls to Cassian who was drawing in deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. Concern pooling in your eyes as you watched how his lips were stretched into an anxious smile which failed to meet his eyes.

"Hey, there's nothing to worry about," you reassured your partner, moving a soothing hand to rest against his cheek, "she'll love you just as much as I do."

Appreciation swam in Cassian's eyes, a soundless thank you falling from his lips before he raised a bouquet for you to take. Or rather two bouquets.

"For you and Evelyn" he nervously mumbled, awkwardly shuffling his feet as he waited for you to take the flowers, "I wanted to get her something nice but . . . I'm not actually sure what five year old's like."

"They're beautiful Cas" you spoke, tears of joy lined your eyes at the male's generosity as you placed a gentle kiss onto his cheek in thanks.

"Are you ready?" you asked whilst stepping aside, making space for Cassian to squeeze himself through your doorway, the male having to curl his wings in tightly in order to fit through the smaller entrance.

"Come on, bat boy. It's time for you to meet your new best friend."

Placing the flowers down onto a nearby console, you led Cassian through your home, softly calling out to Evelyn as you approached the room she was playing in, "Evie, there's someone here to see you."

The sound of tiny feet padding across the floor followed your words, Cassian curiously moving his gaze to the entrance of the room as he waited for your daughter to emerge.

Only his eyes didn't quite catch her face as the small girl barrelled right into the skirt of your dress, shyly hiding within the flowing material of your skirt. "Come on Eves" you encouraged warmly, a tender hand coming to rest against her back, "Aren't you going to say hello?"

A little head tentatively peered over the fabric of your dress, Evelyn's eyes widening as she took in Cassian's wings which imposingly filled the space of your corridor. The nervous girl squeaked a small hello in the General's direction before moving to hide behind the safety of your body once more.

Worried that his wings were too intimidating, Cassian drew them in tightly, bending his knees in order to lower himself to Evelyn's level before greeting the shy girl, "Hi Evie, I'm Cassian." The male allowed a bright smile to cross his face as he watched your daughter's curious eyes peer over the skirt of your dress at his introduction, "Your mum has told me everything about you."

Wanting to aid Cassian who was growing increasingly panicked at the prospect of having to break the ice with your timid daughter, you bent down to speak to her, "How about we go into the room so you can show Cassian your toys hmm?" With a sheepish nod, Evelyn takes your hand, hesitantly moving out from behind your skirt in order to lead you into the living room.

Cassian followed suit, standing from his crouch before moving to the door, only to be unpleasantly surprised upon discovering he was unable to fit through the small wooden frame. His large wings blocking him from entering the room.

Curling them in tighter, the male tried again, attempting to walk into the room once more only to be stopped by the thud of his wings against either side of the doorframe. Just as a frustrated curse was about to tumble from Cassian's lips, a melodic laugh pulled him from his anger.

And Cassian could have sworn it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard.

There stood Evelyn, in the middle of your living room, clutching her stomach as she laughed to her hearts content at Cassian's unfortunate situation.

It was impossible for him to be angry, Cassian's brows unfurrowing at the beautiful sound of her laughter, a deep chuckle of his own breaking from his mouth as he watched the young girl giggle. Love already growing in his eyes as Cassian wished to bottle the sound of her joy.

"Evie," you started in-between your cackling, "Why don't you help poor Cas get in?"

It took all his effort for Cassian not to melt when Evelyn padded over to him, cheeks still rosy from her laughter, and held out a tiny hand for him to take.

Making sure to move his wings into a position that would enable him to enter the room, Cassian took Evelyn's hand which was dwarfed by his own, allowing the girl to pull him into the room.

"My hero" Cassian sweetly grinned, crouching down to place a delicate kiss onto the back of your daughter's hand, "Either I'm going to need some smaller wings or your mum's going to have to get a bigger door."

Another round of giggles fell from Evelyn's lips at his words, her little hand still tucked into Cassian's palm, the girl shaking her head as she quietly spoke, "I like your wings just the way they are."

"Thank you" Cassian replied with a smile, cheeks dusting with a pink blush at her sweet compliment. "I like your dress" he replied, coming to lightly poke Evelyn's button nose which earned him an excitable squeal from the girl before her face adorably scrunched into a picture of curiosity.

"Can . . . can I touch them?" Evelyn shyly asked. Her question being met with sounds of protest from you, knowing just how sensitive Illyrian wings can be. Yet Cassian's answer surprised you, the male telling the girl yes without even an ounce of hesitation.

"Here" he softly spoke, taking Evelyn's hand which was still wrapped in his own and moving it towards a spot on his wing he knew wasn't as sensitive as the others.

Not wanting Cassian to feel obliged to do this just to keep your daughter happy you protested once more, "Cas you don't have to-"

"I don't mind sweetheart"

And as Evelyn's hand came to lightly press against the membrane of his wing, Cassian couldn't stop the spark of joy he felt at seeing the young girl smile. Knowing in his heart that despite this being their first introduction, the General would do anything and everything within his power to ensure your daughter's happiness.

It took everything in you not to cry at the sight of Cassian sating your daughter's curiosity. At the dazzling smile which was painted across his face as he looked at Evelyn with such love. A type of love you had only hoped she would one day get to experience, the love that only a father could provide.

“Can I mama? Can I please?” Evelyn’s begging voice broke you from your thoughts.

“Can you what sorry sweetheart?” You ask, wondering exactly what it was that left your daughter so eager for an answer.

“Can we go flying? Please, please, pleaseeee.”

Cassian grinned at you wickedly from behind where Evelyn was stood, shrugging his shoulders as he mimicked your daughter’s pleading tone, “Please mama, we promise we’ll be good!”

As you flatly stared between Cassian’s smirking face and Evelyn’s equally mischievous smile you silently cursed yourself, scoffing in disbelief at the fact Cassian had known your daughter for under an hour and had already pulled her into his troublesome ways.

Praying to the mother for the strength you are going to need for the restless days ahead.

It had been an evening to remember for Evelyn, Cassian having been more than willing to occupy her until the late hours of the night. Bed-time forgotten as the two of them played and played until Evelyn was no longer able to keep her eyes open no matter how hard she tried.

Your daughter sprawled across yours and Cassian’s lap as the three of you cuddled on the sofa. It didn’t take much longer for you to follow suit and join Evelyn in her dreaming, eyes drifting closed as Cassian’s warmth pulled you into an inviting slumber.

Cassian was more than content to sit and watch the two of you sleep, lip curling at the soft snores which escaped from Evelyn’s mouth.

And as Cassian lay there with the two of you safely tucked within the sanctuary of his arms, he wondered if this was what he had been missing all of his life. For being here, surrounded by the small family you had built for yourself, Cassian could have sworn that his heart had grown two sizes bigger.

So as he stayed awake, scared of missing out on a single moment, Cassian whispered into the silence of the night. A hushed prayer for whoever was listening.

“Thank you” a soft smile graced his lips, “For bringing me my beautiful girls.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: Ahhhh I love them so much 🥹

If you want to see any more of them and have an ideas for what it is you want please do feel free to send in some requests because I totally wouldn’t mind writing more about this little family 🥹

[disneyprincemuke]

wasted like all my potential * fem!driver

jury's out: everything officially fucking sucks

pairings: liam lawson x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver

notes: again i apologise for this taking so long apparently now that I'm kinda mentally no longer struggling with a 12k assignment, I've lost all feels to hurt rocky but no woRRIES IT'S COMING TO AN END SOON

(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)

(prev)

just another day listening to her team explaining another change to the car and another day where she hopes that it all works out in her favour.

she glances out the window of the meeting room, finding the usual corner that’s typically occupied by matt, still empty. she sinks in her seat and folds her arms over her chest as she desperately tries to dial herself back into the meeting.

she catches liam’s eye across the table, the kiwi lifting his eyebrows with a small nod to acknowledge her. she smiles tiredly at him before sucking in a deep breath and returning her gaze to the empty table in front of her.

it’s just another weekend where she tries to save both her and the team’s faces. how long can she keep up the act of having things together in front of the media?

something’s gotta give.

when the meeting ends, she simply picks herself up and is the first one out of the room. sebastian, who’d been sitting next to her, simply sighed to himself as she walked out.

it’s been so difficult to get a grasp of her lately. it’s not just something only he’s noticed, it’s happening to everybody else in the team. since they’d touched down at the airport for the race weekend, it’s even a miracle to get her attention for 5 minutes.

she’s always reserved or simply preferred her own company.

it’s apparent with every single person she interacts with. the girl used to be able to uphold a conversation by her talking alone, but now everything’s minimal. conversations never last more than a minute and she’s always found in her driver’s room by herself.

at first, he concluded that she was unhappy with him. which, would be perfectly fine, seeing the current state of her race weekends. he’s more shocked that she hasn’t blown up in front of him yet.

not a single scream, an utter of frustration… not even a tear shed in half a year and truthfully, it’s almost worrying.

“you’ve got to tell her before she finds out from elsewhere,” sebastian mutters, patting liam on the back as they leave the room. “she’ll be even angrier if it doesn’t come from you.”

“have you spoken to her lately? i don’t think i’ll even get a reaction out of her,” liam whispers back, pointing at the girl walking up the stairs by herself with her head hung low. “do you have any idea how difficult it is to speak to her?”

“yes,” sebastian says with a scowl, “i literally talk to her every weekend.”

liam gives him a knowing stare. “then you should know how unreachable she is nowadays.” he pushes sebastian in the direction of the stairs. “maybe you should speak with her first before i go in there.”

sebastian scoffs, stumbling forward. he turns around and stands next to liam again. “no way. you’re not sending me in there to fight a war by myself.”

“do i really have to? can’t she just find out like everybody else if it goes through?” liam scowls with a sarcastic laugh when sebastian nods.

sebastian pushes him forward. “go and tell her before the media gets a hold of these things and leaks it before you get the chance to break the news yourself,” sebastian says. “let’s not cause a commotion where it’s not needed.”

“fine,” liam mutters, stomping a foot on the ground. he fixes his team shirt and sucks in a deep breath, trying to rehearse his lines in his head. it’s one thing to get the courage to speak to her nowadays, but being the bearer of somewhat bad news is an entirely different situation.

he takes a step forward and looks back at sebastian, throwing him a mean glare. meanwhile, the older man just flashes him a bright smile and an encouraging nod.

he runs up the stairs and calls out to her. the girl stops and turns around. her straight face almost makes liam jump back, not expecting to be greeted so suddenly.

“yes?”

“i uh,” liam huffs and straightens his shirt, “i need to talk to you.”

she tilts her head, “is everything okay?”

liam smiles. seems like he’s caught her at a great time, which should make this slightly easier. “of course. i just need to tell you something; it’s important.”

“oh,” she raises her eyebrows and points down the hallway, “do you want to sit down and talk about it? that serious?”

he shakes his head. he just doesn’t want her to burst out at him. especially that he’s not one to know how to handle her if she breaks. “i can just tell you now,” he shrugs, making his way up the steps to meet her at the top. “but i want you to know that it’s nothing personal.”

nothing personal. so it has something to do with her? she feels her heart start to race in her chest and the room starts to spin. she bites down on her lip and starts to pick at the skin around her nails. “did i do something?”

“no,” liam shakes his head. “what? no, you didn’t do anything. is everything okay?”

she blinks, “yeah, why?”

liam sucks in a deep breath and eventually decides to brush it off. “well, i wanted to let you know that i’m getting offers from other teams for next season.”

he watches her expression change, contorting into an expression he’s not quite sure how to decipher it. so he quickly tries to undo it. “i haven’t signed anything yet. but you know… with the year we’re having, i want to keep my options open. i’ll tell you if something catches my eye.”

he stumbles back, not even realising that she’d made her way down to him, throwing her arms around him. “i’m so happy for you, liam. you deserve to have options.”

he looks down at her body, tightly clinging onto him. “really?”

“of course.” she takes a step back and pats his chest. “you’re the best teammate ever. any team would be lucky to have you as their driver.”

she climbs out of her car with a grumble, half annoyed and half amused. amused that her luck has continued its plummet with every weekend she spends in on a track.

she snarls down at her car as she tears her helmet off her head. “you’re a stupid car,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “you’ll never be anything like last year’s car. you suck.”

she is fully aware of how crazy she sounds, and looks, telling an inanimate object off. but as of late, it seems those are the only things she can vent to that won’t turn its back on her. the only thing that won’t retaliate when she needs to scream at it.

“if i could kick you, i would,” she mutters with a scowl. “i’d break you apart like a fucking lego set if it wouldn’t get me fired.”

she feels a tap on her shoulder, whirling around to find sebastian smiling at her and her phone held in the air.

“matt’s calling you.” she nods and reaches out for her phone but he pulls it back at the last second. “are you okay? i know quali wasn’t as good as we hoped for, but they’re looking into it to make the car better for tomorrow.”

“seb,” she sighs, shaking her head with a disappointed frown, “you say that every weekend we’re in here. are you not sick of saying that?”

he drops his hand. “well, one of us needs to keep our head up with this season we’re having.” he smiles slightly and offers her the ringing phone. “you shouldn’t let it get to you — you’re still a great driver.”

“that’s not what it feels like lately,” she mutters, grabbing her phone from sebastian. “i should be able to make a car work. it shouldn’t matter if it’s good or bad.” she glances down at her buzzing phone, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. she presses the decline button. “i’ll be at the media pen if you need me.”

she watches from the window in her driver’s room, her friends all gathered up, walking towards the gantries to exit the paddocks. they’re leaving to head for dinner without her after she’d refused their offer again.

oscar had approached her in the media pen to invite her out for dinner with them but she’d just not been feeling it. which would make this the 5th invitation that she’s rejected in 11 race weekends. oscar didn’t force her anymore; just simply shrugged and took her ‘no’ as it is.

which somehow made her feel even worse. which is even funnier, considering that just 2 races ago, she’d been wishing for her friends to invite her out after days in the paddocks. but there was something about her best friend taking her answer point blank without another word.

it feels so… isolating.

what if they’ve finally gotten tired of her rejection? what if they’re tired of her?

she whirls around to face her room. it’s messier than she’d usually keep it, her team shirts are lazily hung on the back of her chair and the sofa, her makeup is sprawled messily all over the table with a half-empty coffee cup that she had silently with sebastian for a strategy meeting.

the framed picture of her and sebastian is up on the wall again, with some attempt from sebastian to help her put it up again. she wishes that he’d never offered to help her put it back up. every time she looks at it, she remembers all her former glory and how far she’s fallen now.

and by meeting, she means that he spoke the entire time while she sat there nodding and smiling politely while thinking about how bad the car would be once she got in it.

and liam is leaving. well, he’s not technically leaving yet but seeing how their year keeps going down, it’s likely that he would. and she’s got a contract for another 3 years — where the hell is she going to go? nowhere because she has to stay here.

but everyone seems to be leaving her after her behaviour. but it’s hard to stop feeling this way.

how can she not feel this way?

if liam’s finished in the top 5 in the race and she’s out of the points, what does that mean for her? she’s just half the driver she was, she thinks.

she finds herself in the bar after feeling the need to be here. liam now holds the record for the highest finish for her team this season, after all. and she’s not about to be labelled a sore loser by not being here at all.

though she could almost predict being the talk of the town with her tucking herself in the corner of the club half the time they spent in there. people always find a way to vilify her actions anyway.

but in a way, she shouldn’t have come out of her hotel room. she shouldn’t have gone anywhere knowing her state of mind. she hasn’t had a drop of liquor in her system for a hot minute, but the minute she was reminded of its glorious taste, she couldn’t hold herself back.

she’s on her knees in the back alley of the club they’d dragged her to, hands planted on the gravel as she struggles to hold herself over the drainage. she takes deep breaths to steady herself, blinking in desperation to steady herself.

“fuck.” she shuts her eyes momentarily, taking another deep breath as she feels a sob and another urge to vomit. moreover, her chest hurts. could it be from drinking too much too fast or is it something deeper than that? she can never tell.

“hey, you’ve been– rocky?”

“don’t,” she sobs, holding a hand up quickly to stop whatever else could have come out of the man’s mouth. she balls her hands against the gravel, the pain of dragging her skin against the rough material doesn’t register, but it does cut into her skin. “whatever you’re going to say, keep it to yourself.”

she feels a warm hand rubbing circles on her back and suddenly there’s someone kneeling on the ground next to her. she feels her hair getting brushed back, held into a makeshift ponytail. “i won’t,” liam mutters, slouching slightly. “what do you need? a glass of water? do you need me to take you back to the hotel?”

she shakes her head as another heavy sigh passes her lips. “i don’t know.”

“i’m going to get you a glass of water from the club, okay?” liam hums, squeezing her hand. “please don’t go anywhere. i’ll only be away for a second, stay conscious.”

she nods through staggered breaths. her hair falls past her shoulders to cover her face and the warm hand on her back is replaced by the cold wind.

she grabs liam’s arm just before he gets up. “don’t tell anyone about this.” she turns slightly. her red eyes and puffed cheeks almost made liam want to stay and cradle her until she felt better then and there. “please.”

there’s something about seeing someone — her, specifically — get wasted. she’s always prided herself as someone who can take her liquor, so this was a whole new look that, honestly, he didn’t want to get used to.

how exactly do you try and relight the spark in someone who seems to dwindle away with every weekend that passes?

he doesn’t ever speak up, but he spends the most time with her out of everyone at this point in their lives. he knows; he notices. it’s hard not to when the tension in the air always seems so heavy.

liam nods. “of course.”

“i’m going to miss you,” she says with a frown, resting on her knees. she unzips the pet carrier and she cups kidnapper’s cheeks and tenderly pets his head. “i just need some time but i can’t take care of you right now.”

the cat simply tilts his head and tenderly lifts its head to rub the top of his head on her cheek. she wraps her arms around kidnapper and sighs.

she knew the day would come, sooner or later, that she couldn’t really take care of kidnapper. sure, he makes her apartment feel less isolated but it’s slowly becoming harder to take care of herself and the cat alike.

there are hours when it feels like a task to get herself out of bed for herself. much less for a cat that depends on her to be taken care of.

so she zips up the carrier and wipes her tears off her face. she composes herself before she forces herself to her feet. she knocks on the door and waits for an answer.

“must be someone we know if you’re not barking!” she hears logan laugh, followed by footsteps and then stubby’s loud footsteps against the hardwood flooring of his apartment.

the door opens, revealing logan in his pyjamas with a small grin. right by his feet is stubby, wagging his tail happily at her with a large smile and hopping on the spot at her sight and scent. “rocky,” he says in surprise with a small grin.

he wouldn’t have been so surprised if she’d been easier to reach lately. but in the passing weeks, it seems that she’s started to pull away from him and oscar.

it’s always a nice surprise when she shows up to his apartment unannounced. but with the familiar carrier by her feet, it makes him wonder what really brings her here. especially considering that she’s practically gone off the grid every single time they’re not in the paddocks for a race weekend.

she completely ignores their messages.

“what are you doing here?”

she had a whole speech prepared the entire time she walked over to his apartment building. a lie about needing him to take care of kidnapper for her while she spent the next couple of weeks in the states with matt.

but she ends up with, “i need someone to take care of kidnapper.”

“of course,” logan grins, tilting his head. “is everything okay? have you been crying?”

“watched a sad movie before coming here,” she forces a laugh out of herself, pointing at the carrier. “you don’t mind, do you? just a couple of weeks — i’m going out of town.”

she wasn’t expecting to make conversation with logan. in fact, that’s the entire reason she’d planned a speech prior to coming here with her cat in tow.

“we don’t mind,” he smiles. “arkansas with matt’s family, i suppose?”

she nods, “yeah.”

how exactly do you talk to your best friend who feels like she’s always a thousand miles away? “well, um,” logan hums, “do you want to come in for a drink? maybe a snack?”

she should accept the offer. “i’m leaving tonight, actually. i still have a lot of packing to do,” she feigns a frown, “maybe after i get back?”

logan nods with a grin. “sure. take care, dude, and have fun.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @c-losur3 @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @mclarengf @xoscar03 @nomie-11 @green-thots @tinyhrry @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool

[sillymilie]

Charles Leclerc smut

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, moaning, thigh fucking

There was always one thing that always made you go head over heels for your boyfriend of 4 years. The sex. God, he was good. Too good.

You and Charles lived in the same home. After only a year of dating, the both of you knew that what you had was it. Charles had never felt this way for anyone else before and neither have you. Sometimes, you think about the first time you had sex with your boyfriend. It was magical. There was just something about the fact that since the start he'd always been so caring and delicate with your feelings and your body. You were crazy in love, and so was he.

"Hello ma chérie." Charles said, hugging you from behind, his hands placed on your belly. You could feel his warmth wrap around your body, heating you up. (my darling)

"Hi my love. How are you feeling today?" You looked up at him.

"I'm doing pretty good. You?" He asked as he held you closer to him and planted a kiss on your head.

"Me too. I missed you." You said.

"I missed you way more and you know that." He replied.

"How come?" You asked.

"Because of this." Charles placed your hand on his buldge, a shaky sigh coming out of his mouth as you touched him.

Charles had been away for 3 days because of business issues. For you, that had been the worst 3 days of your life. Not seeing Charles was something you absolutely hated and that went both ways for you two.

You smiled as he leaned over you and kissed you while standing behind you. He planted multiple kisses on your neck, giving you small hickeys. You moaned and closed your eyes as you clearly enjoyed him. You turned around to face him and kissed him even more. While playing with his hair and having a makeout session, Charles let out a moan. He picked you up and led you to the bedroom where all the magic would happen. Your boyfriend set you down slowly on the bed, making sure you didn't get hurt in any way possible. Charles took his shirt off. His skin was flushed red and you could see the buldge in his pants, which he took off shortly after you admired him. Charles joined you in bed.

His hands trailed all over your body, squeezing your thighs while taking your pieces of clothing off one by one and throwing them onto the floor. Your partner was on top of you. Your hands were wrapped around Charles' back as he kissed you and rubbed his cock along your thigh. He started fucking your thigh at a faster rate. You could already feel his pre-cum on your bare skin.

"Please Charles- just fuck me already. I can't wait any longer." You whined, pulling away from the kiss while holding eye contact.

"Okay, whatever you want mon amour." Charles answered, placing a strand of hair behind your ear and guiding his cock onto your wet folds. (my love)

Charles' breath was shaky and so was yours. Your nails entered deeper into his back as he got deeper into you. He was big, real big. He let you time to adjust before going in and out of you. You let out moans, which he found beautiful. He loved the feeling of your nails digging into his back as he made you feel like no one else could.

He took the time to make sure you were feeling well and that you were okay with continuing. You quickly nodded and bit your lip as he placed a hand on your breast while the other one rubbed your clit. That man knew what he was doing.

"I'm close- fuck Charles!" You screamed as he pumped in and out of your body.

"Me too (Y/N)- please cum for me. I need you." Charles said, almost reaching his orgasm. He moaned in your ear, calling you nicknames you loved. He told you how much he loves you and how he'll always be yours no matter what happens.

The both of you came at the same time. Charles stopped moving for a minute, taking the time to calm down and enjoy the moment. You were tired, and so was he. Charles softly lied down on you, his dick still inside of you. His head was rested on your breasts as you played with his hair.

He quickly fell asleep, his arms wrapped around you. You did too after giving him soft kisses on his head. You wrapped your arms around his neck and drifted off to sleep.

[zanarkandskylines]

listening to fortnight got me thinking about bakugo and reader having a very brief fling, something that happened in the past during their 20s, but stuck with both of them for years.

i touched you for only a fortnight i touched you, but i touched you

fast forward to living in the same city, the two of you now in your 30s and end up becoming neighbors by happenstance. you're both married to other people since you only talked in shared friend group settings after said fling.

all my mornings are mondays stuck in an endless february

you watch his wife water her flowers in the garden out back while making coffee in the kitchen every goddamn morning. you have no clue why it irks you so much, that the sight of her stupid smile makes you wanna punch her lights out.

occasionally, you run into bakugo at your mailboxes after a long day at work. small talk is the only thing you two can muster - a comment about the weather or harmless compliments about each other's appearance.

"sure rained like hell yesterday."

"nice sweater, your wife buy it for you?"

"god, it's too fucking hot today."

"that dress looks nice on ya."

one night, both of your spouses are away when a storm comes raging through the city. your power goes out, leaving you in the dark because your stupid husband forgot to replace the generator. from your windows, you see bakugo's household has power and decide to hightail it over for some company.

he answers the door with a confused look on his face. "the fuck you doin' in the rain? get in here!"

bakugo makes you a coffee to share with him in the kitchen, bullshitting through the night like you used to do as twenty somethings. it felt natural, your heart soaring as you watched him laugh and retell jokes from the past. when the conversation died down, you blurted out something you didn't plan to vocalize to anyone.

"i think my husband's cheating. sometimes i just wanna kill the bastard."

caught off guard by your admittance, bakugo quirks an eyebrow at you in response. "little extreme, but i'm sure that could be arranged."

"would be cheaper than a damn divorce. that asshole would take everything from me."

he snickers, taking another sip of his coffee. "think my wife's doin' the same. comes home late and shit, never can tell me why."

"how'd we get stuck with this shit luck?" you retort, forcing a laugh from your tightened chest.

"could be worse. we're neighbors, that's fuckin' lucky for me."

i love you...it's ruining my life.

"oh? i'm starting to think that's not a coincidence anymore."

bakugo sets his mug on the countertop, turning to face you while crossing his arms over the broadness of his chest.

"might'a convinced my wife to move here. thought maybe we could be friends again."

"so you bought a fucking house next to me instead of just calling to go to dinner?" you ask mockingly, a smirk on your face as you awaited his bullshit answer.

he shakes his head with a grin of his own. "sure did."

i love you...it's ruining my life.

"how come you never ask or invite me over then? we're literal neighbors, kats."

"pretty sure my wife's scared of ya. plus, i want time with you, not us."

that makes your heart skip a beat.

"hell of a way to say you miss me." you pause before setting your own cup down on the counter. "i'm glad you're here."

"me too."

right as he's approaching you, the front door swings open.

"babe, i'm home!" his wife calls, handful of shopping bags. she sees you standing in the kitchen aside bakugo - you give her a soft wave.

"oh, hi. i didn't expect company tonight."

"her dumbass husband forgot to replace their generator. just helpin' her out."

she gives him a glare, tilting her chin up at him, almost condescendingly, as she assesses his answer.

"how unfortunate. stay as long as you need, i'm gonna go put this away."

and with that, she leaves for their bedroom to unload her shopping haul. once she's out of earshot, you turn to bakugo and chuckle under your breath.

"oh yeah, she hates me."

bakugo rolls his eyes. "let her be miserable, it's her strong suit. come on, let's go take'a look at that generator."

the generator works just fine, you unplugged it before coming over.

you were curious if there was a spark leftover between you two, only to find the fire was not only stoked, but never fully extinguished.

blasty tags; @slayfics @maddietries @queenpiranhadon @starieq ✨

[buttdumplin]

The sweet, lovely poly 141 boys and their Spanish-speaking latine partner.

This was meant to be a quick little thing, but boy did this get away from me lmao. This is the fluffiest shit I've ever indulged in and I love it. Big thank you to @mikichko for inspiring and helping with this!!!

CW: poly 141, gn!reader, latine reader, mexican slang, hint of d/s dynamics in Johnny's

Price, god love the man, is the one who seems to stumble the most. It's almost comical, considering the fact that Spanish and Arabic are so similar due to their histories. But there's a big difference between the Spanish he's learned to recognize and what you throw at him on the daily. He truly thinks it's because of his age, window of acquisition and all that. John does not expect to be able to speak fluently with you, but he does at least want to understand you. What he really wants, though, is to make you feel more fully at home with him, and he is forever grateful that you feel comfortable and safe enough with them to embrace all parts of your identity.

"Hola, amor mío. How was your day?" you greet him from the couch, eyeing him from tip to toe and almost whistling at seeing him in uniform. "Sigues rechulo, mi güerito, so I assume all went well?"

John swings down to kiss you, gripping the back of your neck to prolongue the kiss, trying to soak in as much of the affection as he can while also disguising the fact that he still doesn't fully recognize what came after.

"Yours was good too, I trust?"

"Yeah, but my brother called. El güey still con sus pinches mamadas and asking for my help. Aguas, in case he shows up this week."

"I... will keep an eye out, dove."

"Call me si les arma pedo and I'm not around."

He just nods sagely and squishes up against you on the couch, letting your warmth seep into his tired bones.

Later that evening, he rounds up the boys while you're in the shower and pulls out a small notebook where he's written things out phonetically. John may not have all the knowledge he needs, but he sure as hell is good at getting it.

"'Güey,' that's the brother's nickname?"

"No, that's like 'man/guy.' But it's also an insult. But not always," Johnny supplies.

"Fuck me, okay. 'Rechulo' is... I got nothing for that one."

"The 're' is for heavy emphasis, 'chulo' is 'cute/handsome/pretty.' 'Re' can go on practically any adjective," Simon steps in.

"'Aguas' and 'pedo' CANNOT be what they are, right?"

Kyle takes his hand and chuckles, "No, sweetheart. The first is like a warning, the second a fight or scene or scandal. In this context."

John's shoulders finally relax and he lets out a heavy sigh, putting the final touches on his notes of the day.

"Thank you, boys, for your patience and your kindness. And your secrecy," John huffs a little laughter and gives them his sweetest smile, the one where you can see the dimples poking out through the beard.

They all reach over to gently caress him, taking turns kissing the parts of him they can reach.

"Thank you, John, for trying so hard."

~

Beautiful, wonderful Kyle, the delight of a man that he is, is the one giving it as good as he gets. He's the one crooning in your ear, showering you with the most decadent terms of endearment, knowing full well they make your knees much weaker in Spanish. He'll use the advantage every single chance he has, don't doubt that for a second. But truly, it's the soft seclusion of those moments that he cherishes most, when you're looking up at him with big bright eyes, knowing you fully trust him to take care of you.

You're grumbling away as you wash dishes after dinner when Kyle comes up behind you, arms making the way slowly around your waist, chin dropping onto your shoulder.

"Oh, tesoro mío, look at you working away, working so hard for us."

You refuse to look at him and give a fussy pout. He knows it's your least favorite of the house duties. So much so that you're always willing to do almost anything as long as you don't have to touch wet food.

"It looks like you've done enough, cariño. Come join us in bed."

"No. None of you wanted to trade with me so se aguantan," you try to wiggle and bump his head away from yours.

"Come on, cosa hermosa, we need you with us to settle for the night," he pulls your hands from the water, drying them and turning you towards him.

You immediately bury your face into his chest. Can't look him in the eye, he'll win you over the moment you do.

"So they send in the smooth talker, huh?"

Kyle laughs, clear and bright, and he wraps you back up in his arms, gently cradling your head until you give in and look up at him.

"Or," he says, making you both rock gently, "I'm trying to sneak in a little solo time."

Your body melts against his as the words sink in, big eyes blinking softly up at him, "Besito?"

"As many as you want, mi vida. Until you grow bored of me," and you're letting out a sweet sigh as those soft lips meet yours.

His hands move to bring your body closer to his, to milk this quiet moment for as much contact as possible, to sear it all into his memory.

"You two are awfully quiet out there," Simon calls from the bedroom and it makes you break apart with a little jump.

You hear frantic rustling that has to be Johnny, "Hold on, what happened to doing the dishes!"

A chuckle escapes the two of you, sparkling eyes meeting in the low light from the stove hood. The sound of John huffing to get comfortable floats in from the bedroom.

"Just a minute more, hermosura," he mutters against your hair. "Wanna stay here a bit longer."

"Really liking all those pet names, aren't you?"

Kyle laughs again and gives you a squeeze, "Mean every single one of them."

And you happily linger, not pointing out that you've noticed an endearing pattern of Kyle wrapping up nights in the kitchen with you in his arms and a faint love song echoing down the hall for you two to sway to.

~

Beloved, darling Simon, he hides his own understanding of the language. He understands it nearly perfectly, with just the tiniest margin of error, nothing too big to bring attention to it. Overall, he's able to catch almost everything you mumble. It's not to be sneaky or anything like that, Simon would never do anything to compromise your privacy. It's more that he doesn't quite see the need to verbalize it. To him it's nothing special, no need to make a spectacle. Instead, he lets it seep into his actions, ever the acts of service lover that he is.

You're spread out on the couch, on the phone with your mother, complaining, "Como chingan los del trabajo. Me pidieron un reporte para el viernes y ahora me reclaman que todavía no se los he dado y apenas es miércoles."

There was a tension in your shoulders when you came home from work, he didn't miss that. Caught you jolting to a stop mid-stretch. And as the call goes on longer, Simon picks up on more.

"No he tenido chance de lavar ropa, ni una putisima pijama... Traigo un pinche antojo de mole, pero es un chingo de trabajo y ahorita no le puedo dedicar el tiempo..."

He quietly moves to gather the boys as you continue ranting and pace around the room. You're too caught up in your call to see them forming a massive huddle and their nodding at Simon right as the break and throw their joined hands in the air.

By the time you're off the phone, it's dark out and you notice the house is quieter than usual. You move to look for the boys (they can't have left without telling you, right?) when Simon pops out from the hall, crooked smile you love so much adorning his face, and he simply takes your hand to pull you into the bathroom. A hot bath greets you, some honeyed bath bomb already dissolving in the water and your laptop set up on a bucket besides the bath, your comfort show already pulled up and ready to play. Simon then points to your softest pajamas washed and set out on the counter for you.

"And you'll help me with my lotion too?"

He kisses your forehead, "When do I not?"

"The boys?"

"Setting up dinner. Kyle and I are making your favorite."

You whip around to face him, eyes wide and excited, "With fresh tortillas?"

With a low, affirmative hum Simon pulls you in closer and just holds you. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to. But he lends you his strength, which is all he can really hope for. The steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his arms around you help release the tightness in your body. Letting out your own little hum, you give him a squeeze and he squeezes back harder, crushing you in the way he knows you find comforting. There's a soft devotion in his tenderness with you, an unshakable support in every single thing you do.

"So you gonna undress me too, or...?"

A peal of laughter escapes you as he playfully swats at your butt, "Undress yourself. I've got cooking to do."

A day without hearing your laughter is a day poorly spent to Simon.

He's almost to the door when you pull him back into you, hands tugging on his shirt to bring him down to your height. His own laughter rumbles in his chest as you cover his face in loud kisses, and he stays locked in place. He will for as long as you need him to, never mind his back. If it's gonna go out eventually, he'd rather it go out from his time spent like this.

~

Johnny, bless the boy, is desperate to hear it, to have you address him directly. You speak plenty around the house, on phone calls with friends, talking back at the tv (some shows have been put on temporary bans, or at the very least you're not supposed to watch them alone), at the lovely crooked cat yall adopted. You shower them with pet names with every breath you take. And he loves it all! Loves that you so willingly share so much of yourself with them. But Johnny boy is dying for something specific- "Love, why don't you call me papi?"

When he voices it, it's a complete surprise. Simon and Kyle both laugh so hard so suddenly that they find themselves choking on their own spit. Price himself is caught so off-guard that he fully looks up from the dinner he's prepping in the kitchen, raw chicken slipping out of his hands and plopping back into the flour bowl. You at first laugh it off lightly, thinking it was one of his cutesy jokes he makes to get a giggle out of everyone. That would have made the most sense, honestly. But when he looks away, big blue eyes shining with the softest hint of embarrassment, it sinks in.

You shift in your seat a fraction, "Johnny, I don't even call any of you that in English. You know it's not exactly the same thing, right?"

"I know but the little old lady from the corner shop calls me "papi" and so does the older man who brings the water and other people too and it's always so affectionate and so I thought..."

He spares a glance at you, hoping he hasn't completely overstepped.

"Where did this come from?"

"Ale let it slip last time we grabbed coffee and the joy on Rudy's face was so blinding that I thought maybe we should try it."

"Honey--"

"Please, just once."

"But I--"

"It doesn't have to be a title! It can be soft and casual, no expectations."

"You don't--"

"I promise I'll be good for it."

Oh.

Your gaze meets the other boys' and you all take a good look at your Johnny. At some point during his pleading he brought himself down to kneel in front of you. His broad shoulders are slumped forward in submission, his hands clenched together so tightly his fingertips are completely white. Price nods at you, the other two eagerly nodding along as well.

Leaning forward, you grab him by the jaw, gently bringing his head to rest against your thigh.

Running your fingers through his hair, you utter out a low, "Sweet little thing like you just wants to be good, don't you papi?"

Johnny's eyes glaze over slightly, a shy, dazed smile growing on his face. There's not an ounce of hesitation in him as he nuzzles his face into your thigh, just sweet elation. Pleased grumbles escape the others, making Johnny's smile grow bigger.

You make sure to add it into your regular circulation.

[wcbblife]

Steps and Swishes

a/n: promise the next part will probably have more of the professional dancing lol

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: none!

***

In moments like these, you can't help but appreciate your body's resilience, its unwavering stamina that carries you through the literal marathon of your day. But as you navigate this relentless sprint, you find yourself hoping there's still some fuel left in your tank when you reach the audition.

Waking up late was never part of the plan, especially not on a day when a crucial audition awaits. "Crap!" you mutter under your breath as you hastily exit your dorm room, clutching a piece of bread in one hand and your phone in the other. Each step is a stride toward salvaging what's left of your punctuality.

For the most part, things seem to be going smoothly as you dash towards the building. Until it’s not.

You wrench open the glass door of the lobby and dash into the elevator, heart pounding with each passing floor. Finally, as the doors slide open, you burst forth into a labyrinth of corridors, your destination painfully close. Or so you think.

Just when you believe the worst is behind you, you turn a corner and collide with an unexpected obstacle: a cascade of blonde hair and scalding coffee.

“Fuck!” The word rips from your lips as you stagger backward, the searing liquid seeping through your clothes. With trembling hands, you peel the wet fabric from your skin, eyes fixed on the ruinous stain spreading across your once pristine white shirt.

“Holy shit,” the figure mumbles, “I didn't mean that at all. Are you ok?”

A hand reaches out hesitantly towards your shirt, then freezes awkwardly in mid-air. It's the final straw.

Your gaze shoots up to meet the woman in front of you, ready to unleash a torrent of curses, but all words die on your tongue as you're confronted with wide, concerned eyes. Eyes that you know all too well, belonging to none other than Paige Bueckers.

Going to the same school as Paige Bueckers had never really stood out to you until today.

"I'm so sorry," Paige says, glancing down at your shirt, her hand still suspended awkwardly between you. Silence hangs heavy in the air. "I… I'll buy you a new one, I swear. Let me make it up to you."

In that moment, you realize that even if she were to buy you ten or twenty shirts, it wouldn't change the fact that you're about to miss your audition if you don't hurry. The inconvenience of the situation dawns on you in full force.

You let out an exasperated sigh, your gaze flicking from your stained shirt to Paige and back again. Then, once more, your eyes travel from her to your shirt. You can't help but notice how effortlessly chic and pristine her shirt appears compared to your own.

“Take off your shirt,” you deadpan without much consideration.

Paige's eyes widen further, resembling a deer caught in headlights. “W-what?” she stammers, inching away slowly.

You, however, couldn't care less if she looked at you as crazy. “You said you wanted to make it up to me?” you ask, raising an eyebrow before gesturing towards the bathroom behind her. “I have an audition in five minutes, and unless I want to blow my shot, I need to look presentable.”

The blonde hesitates, her gaze shifting between your outstretched fingers and the bathroom door. Then, with a slow turn of her head, you can almost hear the gears in her mind grinding to a halt. “And how does me taking off my shirt help you?”

“Just get in there and swap shirts with me,” you grumble, shooting her a soft glare. “It'll be quick. Once I'm done, you can have it back. Deal?” You silently pray she doesn't call the cops given how stupid and crazy you must sound, but the desperation in your eyes seems to sway her as she hesitantly nods.

“Alright, fine.” she sighs, walking towards the bathroom.

***

For the most part, the audition went relatively smoothly. Well, except for the fact that you received a barrage of odd looks for bursting in looking disheveled, with the invasive aroma of coffee clinging to you like a second skin. You could swear they caught whiffs of it every time you executed a dance move. But on the bright side, Paige's shirt did align nicely with the hip-hop theme they wanted, so hooray for small victories, you suppose.

Exiting the room, your shoulders sag immediately. Scanning the area for a familiar blonde, you finally spot Paige and make your way over, tapping her shoulder gently.

Startled, she quickly turns off her phone, giving you her full attention. “How'd it go?”

You shrug, not feeling up to sugarcoating it. “It was alright, I guess.”

Paige's expression deflates. “Gosh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mess up your audition.”

“Nah, don't worry about it,” you try to brush it off, though your voice betrays a hint of frustration. “If I hadn't been such a klutz and actually woke up on time, I wouldn't have been in such a rush, and none of this would've happened.”

A brief silence lingers between you two before Paige breaks it. “Hey, let's make a deal,” she proposes, suddenly piquing your interest. “You can hang onto the shirt for now. I'll take this one,” she taps the stained area with her palm, “wash it, and give it back to you later.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Really? I'm totally fine with changing again. Why would you even let me take your shirt home—”

“Just…” she interrupts, sounding almost exasperated, “It's just a way for you to trust that I won't flake out and keep your shirt or something,” she mumbles, scratching the back of her neck nervously. “If you have my shirt, the only way I could get it back is by washing yours and swapping. I know it sounds silly.”

You chuckle. “Maybe just a little.”

Paige smiles, briefly averting her gaze before meeting your eyes again. “Just… let me clean it. I already feel bad enough.”

With a resigned sigh, you give in to her plea. “Fine, give me your number.”

Paige retrieves her phone with surprising speed, a wide grin spreading across her face. She clears her throat, opening her phone and displaying the number pad. “Are you usually around campus? You look like a student.”

After entering your number, you call yourself and retrieve your own phone as it starts to ring. “Yeah… I'm just looking for a part-time gig for now. Nothing too demanding.”

The blonde's interest is piqued. “So, what was the audition for?”

“Just some dancing,” you murmur, half-expecting her to burst into laughter like some others might. But instead, her reaction is one of genuine shock.

“That's awesome! KK would love you,” Paige jokes, and you audibly release a deep breath, grateful that there's no mockery in sight.

“I'm… flattered. Though I'm afraid she might work me to the bone with TikTok dances.”

Paige erupts into laughter, bending over in amusement before regaining her composure. “She might, but she means no harm, I promise,” she says, her expression turning more earnest. “You might have to swing by and show us some moves.”

“Hmm, I might just have to do that,” you reply with a smile.

Paige rubs her hands together awkwardly. “Well, I'll let you go. I don't want to hold you back any longer. I'll definitely text you.”

You nod, “I'll look forward to a white shirt”

She smiles before excusing herself. As you go about your way, you can't help but glance back, only to find the blonde has beaten you to it, snapping her eyes away from you in an instant.

***

The next morning breezes by in a blur. You manage your early classes and decide to take the afternoon off, indulging in a leisurely lounge session that rivals the pace of a sloth. Despite knowing you should probably get moving, the mere thought of tackling errands or practicing feels like an insurmountable task.

You flop onto your back on the carpeted floor, idly gazing at the ceiling until the tranquil silence is abruptly shattered by the muffled buzzing of your phone. With a lazy stretch, you reach for your phone, glancing at the notification.

One text message.

Sitting up, you unlock your phone.

‘Hey! It's Paige. You know, the girl who spilled coffee on you? Yeah, you probably remember that. Anyway… I cleaned your shirt, and I promise it's good as new. Do you want me to swing by your place or are you cool with coming over here?’

Your fingers move instinctively, typing a response before you even fully process it. After all, if THE Paige Bueckers was extending an invitation to her place, who were you to refuse?

‘I don't mind coming over there.’

Three bubbles appear in the corner of the screen.

‘Great! My room is 12C. Just drop by whenever you want.’

‘Alright, I'll be over in a few minutes.’

‘Perfect, I'll be waiting for you.’

You toss your phone aside, feeling an unexpected surge of energy coursing through you. Where it comes from, you're not entirely sure, but you're certainly not going to question it. Not when it propels you onto your feet in a heartbeat.

Without pausing to overthink, you head for a quick shower, ensuring you look somewhat presentable before getting dressed. There's a pitifully evident spring in your step as you make your way to her room, clutching her freshly washed shirt against your body.

However, all semblance of confidence evaporates upon coming face to face with the blue door, 12C stamped at the top. One. Two. Three seconds pass, and you find yourself rooted in place, your arm trembling slightly before dropping back down.

“Shit…” you mutter, suddenly feeling more self-conscious. But you gather your resolve and decide to just go for it.

Almost instantly, you hear shuffling from behind the door, accompanied by distant thuds before it creaks open. Two brown eyes peer out, catching you off guard. You barely have time to process before she gasps, almost comically.

“Oh my god, you're the coffee girl, aren't you?” The girl, whom you now recognize as KK, swings the door open wider, smiling like a child.

“Um… yeah, that's me,” you reply, scratching the back of your neck and holding up Paige's shirt. “I'm just here for a simple exchange.”

“Girl, come on in,” KK drawls, gesturing for you to enter. “She's down the hall to the left.”

“Thanks,” you chuckle.

It's pretty wild how much they're trusting you, but at this point, does it even matter?

You make your way down to what you presume is Paige’s room, rapping lightly on the door.

Paige answers swiftly, her attention seemingly elsewhere. “Kk, I swear to go—” Her gaze lands on you, and her eyes widen abruptly, words faltering. “Oh, my bad. Thought you were that airhead.”

“Hey!” Kk's voice rings out from the other side of the dorm, prompting a giggle from you.

“Come in, come in. I didn’t realize you were here already,” Paige says, opening her door fully. She strides over to her bed, where a neatly folded white shirt rests on top.

“I like your cologne,” you blurt out before even thinking, immediately regretting your lack of filter. You scramble for an excuse as Paige turns to you, her expression unreadable. “I-I mean, your shirt… I'm assuming it was your cologne. It smelled nice.”

She smiles. “Really? I’m trying something new. Must've smelled better than the coffee, huh?”

You step closer to her, the distance between you diminishing. “Anything would be better than that, to be honest. Imagine dancing while drenched in coffee.”

Paige winces, stepping nearer to you. She extends your shirt towards you. “Yeah, sorry about that again. But don't worry, I made sure it was all gone.”

Taking a moment to really take her in, you absorb every detail you may have missed in your earlier rushed encounter. The way her eyes sparkle, the curve of her smile, the subtle flex of her arms. It's almost overwhelming for your heart to handle.

“Here. I washed yours too.”

“Aww, you didn't have to,” she reply with a cheeky grin. “Now I owe you again.”

“I'm always up for some food,” you shrug, though you don't really mean it. “A broke college student will take what they can get.”

“Deal,” Paige says, her tone shifting slightly more serious. “We could even go now if you want.”

“Wow, didn't expect you to actually say yes. I mean, aren't you like… a celebrity or something around here?” you comment, feeling a mix of surprise and flattery.

Paige shrugs, a smirk playing on her lips. “What, are you worried they'll mistake us for a couple or something?”

“W-what? No…” you stutter, feeling your cheeks flush at the mere suggestion.

“I'm just messing,” she says, turning her head expectantly, her gaze soft yet playful.

It seems to effortlessly dismantle whatever defenses you had put up. “Fine,” you relent, smiling as Paige's face instantly lights up.

“Sweet. Hold on, let me grab my stuff,” she says, brushing past you, leaving you standing awkwardly in the middle of her room. You shift on the balls of your feet until…

“Psst!” Your head snaps towards the doorway as KK looks positively gleeful, biting her finger to stifle a laugh. “You're still gonna dance with me, right? Don't go flaking out.”

“Of course I am. And I’m going to beat you with all those TikTok dances,” you retort, a playful spark between the two of you.

KK gasps dramatically, clutching her shirt. “As if!”

“Alright, KK,” Paige interjects, returning from wherever she went, patting KK on the shoulder with a tad too much strength, causing the smaller guard to wince. “That’s enough.”

You catch the shift in Paige's tone, and she shrugs softly once she notices your gaze on her. “Let’s go?”

You nod and follow closely behind, but not before whispering a quick, “It's still on,” to KK, chuckling as her mouth hangs open in silent protest.

[macabr3-barbi3]

Alastor/sheep!Reader- Red Riding Hood (Ao3 Request)

I had so much fun with this! And I'm thinking about doing a little mini-series of retellings of fairy tales because of this so 👀

Tags: chase; outside sex; rough sex; predator/prey for like 3 paragraphs; reader is kind of a little shit

2.6k words

<3<3<3<3<3

The woods are dark and dense, and you curse yourself again for agreeing to undertake this journey for your new manager.

“It gets cold!” She had whined, gesturing to the hairless skin of her Sphynx cat form. “ I could freeze, and its really important that this delivery gets picked up tonight! You’re such a great friend,” she had gushed when you caved and agreed to make the trip for her, to the outermost edges of the Pride ring. Why couldn’t she have just air-shipped the package? “The customer doesn’t like modern technology.”  Why not have him come get it? “He isn’t really a people person, I don’t want to scare anyone off.”

An idiot is what you were- an idiot that was new to Hell and didn’t have many other options for jobs. You were sweltering under the stupid red cloak that she had given you, swearing up and down that the forest you’d be going through got chilly at night and insisting that you take it with you; the only plus to the damned thing was that it had a pocket into which you could slip the delivery parcel. Even though you weren’t technically properly trained for deliveries yet, the thick wool that coated the lush curves of your sheep-like body apparently made you the perfect candidate for the trip through the ‘cold’ woods. 

“Bullshit,” you mutter, throwing the hood of the damned thing back and letting the soft breeze whip past your ears. The trees seem to whistle their displeasure at your presence, your hair swirling around your face as you head in the general direction that the app on your phone directed you. 

There’s a sudden growl in the air, and you freeze where you stand. It almost rumbles the ground beneath your feet, and glancing over your shoulder you see a hint of crimson eyes staring from the darkness.

Fuck that. You take off without any further inspection of the glowing gaze, tossing your phone into the cloak pocket as you run- you don’t need to know what it is if it's going to try to hurt you somehow, and you don’t give a damn about the delivery being on time if it means risking your life. Why wouldn’t your manager have told you there was dangerous shit out here? You get that it’s Hell but for fuck’s sake.

Your lungs are aching as you continue on, not willing to slow or stop while you can still hear the crashing of tree branches and snarling behind you, right at your heels. There’s a hand on the hood of your cloak then, pulling you backwards, and without thinking you slam your head back, horns miraculously hitting home right in the creature’s face. It releases you with a pained groan and you don’t look back, booking it as fast as you can in a different direction, stitch in your side growing more and more painful with every step.

The woods are silent as you finally slow and stop, bracing your back against a tree and trying to catch your heaving breath. Your whole body is on fire, physical exertion having never been your strong suit, but you’re still alive and that’s what matters- body aches will heal, but you heard that regeneration was a bitch.

“Are you chilly, darling?”

The unexpected voice makes you whip around, cloak whirling as you turn. “Fuck!” Your heart is still beating like a drum, hard hammering against your chest from the run before you had stopped to rest. 

The demon casually leaning against a nearby tree watches you with a wide grin, a trickle of blood from his lips where your horns had slammed into him. His eyes, red and lidded, flick up and down your body. “It’s quite rude to leave a question unanswered.”

“It’s also quite rude to sneak up on people. Was that you chasing me?”

“Why, I’m just making sure that you are heading in the right direction! The number of people that have gotten lost on their way to me is truly a nuisance.” He eyes the shape of the package in your cloak pocket. “I’m pleased to see that this one hasn’t been lost to the forest yet.” He steps closer, holds a hand out to you. “Come along now, dear.”

“R-right. Can you confirm the name on the package?”

A wide grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Alastor.”

It matches the name on the package which is good enough for you. “Okay, great. Here you go.” You pull the box from your pocket and hold it out to him. “That’s all this needed to be.”

He cocks his head to one side. “Surely you won’t be leaving so soon.”

“I’m just here to make the delivery, sir.” Your hands are trembling with leftover adrenaline as he takes the parcel, inspects it for a moment, then unceremoniously tosses it over his shoulder into the darkness.

“Your work ethic is to be admired!” He exclaims, ignoring your outraged expression. “But there seems to be confusion- you are the delivery, darling.” When you stiffen at his words he chuckles and creeps closer, circling you like a predator. “Let me guess- you’re new to the shop, you aren’t trained for deliveries, and the manager had compelling reasons for why you should come instead of herself?”

“I-”

“We have an understanding, you see.” He trails a finger down the cloak hanging over your arm. “Retail is a hard business in Hell- no one wants to stick around, people are hard to train, they never last long anyway. Your manager has had to run several of my packages herself and the last one was, sadly, lost to the elements by her own fault.” He looks off into the distance, seemingly irritated at the memory. “What could have possessed her to attempt to cross a river with a priceless antique electronic is beyond me but here we are. I would have simply killed her but she has connections I can use to my advantage so we made a deal instead.” He looks back to you, head cocked to one side as he smiles. “An easy meal as compensation for her transgression. Delivered right to me.” His eyes darken, raking over your form, the curves of your body. “I hadn’t expected her to act so quickly but it’s been some time since I last had mutton.”

“I won’t taste good,” you tell him calmly despite the lingering fear from the chase, and an eyebrow raises in amusement. “When I was alive my mom always said I was rotten, I’m sure that doesn’t translate well to my demon form. And then you’ll have wasted your deal on bad meat.” You keep your voice steady while you address him.

“Oh?” He circles you and you can feel his gaze running over your body again. “I’m not so sure about that, dear- I’ve never found any complaints with meat of any kind. I’m sure you’ll be quite tasty.” He smiles when he comes around the front again, the sharp teeth glinting in the light that filters through the trees.

And fuck, the way he said that shouldn’t have been kind of hot. This was a serious situation, definitely not the time to be thinking vaguely inappropriate thoughts about the demon who was quite blatantly threatening to eat you. “Do you want to risk it?” You ask, and his smile turns curious. “I mean, I’d hate to have to tell you ‘I told you so’ but I would do it. The shop has new people like me coming in every week for training that you could have your pick of instead of taking the first thing to come along; what if you missed out on something really delicious?” 

Alastor watches you carefully. “I suppose you have a point, darling,” he concedes, his slim shoulders shrugging. “A meal that talks back so much would surely be a poor one. Though I can’t say I’m not disappointed that I won’t get a chance to sample you.” His voice seems to drop, a rolling purr in the strange radio cadence he has that makes your hair stand on end and your heart thump in your chest.

“Maybe I could let you have a taste?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, the air between the two of you suddenly charged with tension. “Just, you know. Show you what I mean, that I won’t be any good. Rotten and all that, like my mom says.”

“On the contrary, I think you’ll be very good.” He steps closer to you, towers over your frame with hooded eyes that track the movement of your throat as you swallow. “But I’ll behave myself since you’ve shown me the error of my ways- a mere sampling of your flavor, nothing more. I suppose there is more that I could get out of your manager if I don’t ‘cash in’ right away, as it were.” He brings a claw tipped hand to cup your face, tilting your head one way then the other. “We’ll start here,” he murmurs, and you close your eyes, wait for the brush of his lips against yours.

It doesn’t come- instead you feel him lick along the column of your neck, the muscle hot and wet where it drags against your skin, a shuddering exhale leaving you at the feeling. One hand comes up to rest on your waist, the other unclipping the clasp of the red cloak you wear and letting it fall to the ground. You shiver without it, not from the cold but from the sensations raging through your body at such a simple touch, and Alastor pulls back, licking his lips at the taste of you.

“My disappointment at agreeing to let you go is immeasurable,” he whispers, pupils blown when he meets your eyes. “It’s just as I suspected- delicious.” The hand that released the cloak winds itself into your hair, brushing against the base of your horns. “Would you indulge me in another taste?”

You nod, not trusting your voice to come out clearly, and he swipes along your neck again, allowing his teeth to press gently against your pulse point before he continues down, snaking the hot appendage between the valley of your breasts and holding you tighter to his body. There’s still adrenaline coursing through your body making each touch feel like an electric pulse to your core, and when he growls into your chest you let out a quiet moan that echoes in the quiet woods.

One hand still tangled in your hair, thumb gently brushing against your horns, he slips his free hand under the waistband of your skirt and into your panties, inhaling sharply at the wetness he finds. Claws absent, he slides a finger inside of you, the press of it slow and steady, making you rock your hips into his hand.

“Someone’s eager, hm?” He presses another digit into the slickness of your cunt, bends his fingers in a way that his you seeing stars as he thrusts them in and out of your heat. You let out a soft cry against him and cling to his shirt, up on your tiptoes to let his fingers reach wherever he wants.

“More,” you whimper, letting one of your hands reach up to his face, a move that surprises him. “Please, Alastor.”

He brings his face up from your skin and devours your mouth, his tongue showing just as much attention to your mouth as he had your neck, licking into it with fervor and enthusiasm you wouldn’t have expected from him. “Would you let me have you, darling? This is hardly an appropriate place, but-”

“Yes,” you tell him, not even letting him finish his sentence, and he gently lowers you to the ground to lay across the expanse of the red cloak. He makes short work of his trousers, shoving your skirt up around your waist and slicing your panties off with a quick swipe of his fingers before he fists his cock and slots himself against you. “Oh fuck-” He impales you with a hard thrust, sinking in to the base with a harsh grip on your hips.

“Lovely,” he groans into your ear, and then he seems to lose the capability for language, his words devolving into harsh grunts and growls as he fills you over and over, snapping his hips against yours in a quick rhythm that leaves you gasping and trying to pull him closer. 

A hand leaves your hips to tangle in your hair; you arch up, thinking that he means to kiss you again until his palm wraps around the length of one horn, using it like a handle to pull your head back, throat exposed to him while he rails into you. “Delicious little thing,” he says, and drags his tongue down the column of your throat again, sucking a pattern of bruises along it that you know you’ll spend the next week pressing into with your fingertips. His sharp teeth pinch a bit of skin lightly and you jerk in his hold.

It should have terrified you, instead dousing your body in a liquid flame. “J-Just tasting, remember,” you jokingly reprimand, and his laugh reverberates through your chest.

“How could I forget?” He lets go of your horn, slips the hand between your bodies as he leans back so he can watch you rocking with the force of his thrusts into you. His thumb swipes forcefully at your clit, the ecstasy near overwhelming as he loses some of his rhythm, your cunt clamping down on him. “It's quite selfish to deny me, darling, but I’ll take of you what I can- your pleasure, your body, all of it mine-”

Your eyes roll back in your head as the tension in your lower body snaps, dragging Alastor down with a hand in his hair to meet your lips, desperate and sloppy while you quake and shatter to pieces below him. He spends himself with a snarl in the tightness of your body, slick with your arousal and release as you cry out, the sound swallowed by his mouth.

He remains still for a moment, crouched over you, before he pulls back and rests you gently on the cloak. “This thing is hideous,” he says with distaste. “It made it quite easy to track you- which was the intention- but you must have been sweltering.”

You watch what you can see if the sky through the canopy of the trees. “She said it could get cold,” you laugh, “and I’m a fool. What a terrible job.”

“Not a fool,” he corrects, spreading the fabric out to lay on it beside you for a moment. “Nearly a victim of a deal that didn’t concern you- and perhaps I will still pay your manager a visit- but never a fool. You convinced me not to eat you for now, at least.”

You shoot him a smile. “Well, you weren’t that scary once you stopped chasing me,” you giggle, “besides those sharp teeth.”

His nose wrinkles with his amusement. “Keep teasing me, dear, and I’ll acquaint you with these sharp teeth for real.” He leans close enough to nip at your shoulder, the motion more teasing than painful. “There’s always tomorrow, after all- who knows what my appetite will be once I’ve dealt with that manager of yours? Mutton could still be on the menu.”

“Well,” you say, “if I’ll be out of a job soon so I might go apply at the coffee shop around the corner from our place. I heard their manager is a real ass- how would you feel about duck instead?” He laughs into your shoulder, the sound deep and clear, and you think maybe it wasn’t such a bad job after all if this was where it lead for now.

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Could I please request Smiley/Nahoya getting sent nudes from his girlfriend whiles he's at work?

Nahoya x Reader: Sending Him Nudes While He's Working

♡ NSFW, fem reader, ramen shop owner!Nahoya, mentions of Souya ♡

note: thanks for requesting anon 🩷

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

🧡 As soon as he sees that you texted him he steps away from the stove

🧡 Almost drops his phone when he sees the pic you sent him, he can't get over how good you look

🧡 Immediately pops a boner, he's desperate as hell to get home to you

🧡 Makes up an excuse to Souya and dips the fuck out

"Aw man listen, I gotta go. My dog just escaped through the backdoor."

"Smiley what the hell are you talking about? You don't even got a dog."

"Uh yeah, gotta go Sou. Hold things down f'me!"

🧡 Souya is just standing there confused as fuck 😭

🧡 As soon as Nahoya gets in the house he's undressing himself and heading to your bedroom

🧡 Extra rough with you because you know better than to tease him like that

"You shouldn't have done that princess. Now I'm really gonna have to punish you~"

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Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe

[littlespoonevan]

fuck it friday

hello no one tagged me but i'm having too much fun writing maddie's pov to buddie over the years so here's a snippet anyway lmao

“And then,” Buck says, for approximately the eighth time in twenty minutes. “Eddie just- pulls the grenade out of the guy’s leg. Like it’s nothing! Like he does this kinda shit every day! Which- I mean, maybe he did? In the army? I don’t know; he didn’t talk much about it.” Maddie feels her eyes go wide and she’s not quite sure if it’s incredulity at Buck’s story or Buck’s whole demeanour. Because he’s somehow gone from bitching about the new guy being cooler than him to beaming in wonder. “That sounds really dangerous,” she says because reaching for her big sister instincts is the easiest response she can think of. “Did you really agree to get in ambulance with him just so he wouldn’t upstage you at work?” Buck pulls a face around a mouthful of lasagne, waving a dismissive hand. “Mads, that’s not the point. Besides, me and Eddie worked things out after that.” She raises an eyebrow. “You did?” “Uh yeah,” Buck says and then, inexplicably, he ducks his head and almost looks bashful. Whiplash would be less disorientating than this conversation. “He called me a badass,” Buck admits, sounding not unlike his nine-year-old self revealing Ashley Gomez called him handsome. “And then he said I could I have his back any day.” “So you’re…good now?” she asks uncertainly. “You two are getting along?” Buck nods eagerly and the beaming grin is back. “Oh yeah. Y’know I think Bobby might’ve even hired him on purpose? I’ve never had a partner at work before.”

tagging (if you want): @mellaithwen @homerforsure @buckactuallys @sibylsleaves @fraddit and anyone who feels like sharing something they're working on!! ✨✨

[sailor-aviator]

Hey.

Go ahead and get settled because this will be...long, in true Liz fashion.

So, by now I'm sure most of you have heard what's happened. If not, you can search this blog for some answers or others for more.

I joined this fandom offiicially at the end of September after being a long time lurker. I had just lost my job and times were uncertain for me. I felt inspired to write, and as someone whose formative years were shaped by the fandom experience, I wanted to feel that sense of belonging again - to feel like a part of a community. I've talked about it on here before, but I started my fandom days in the original Hunger Games fandom when the first movie had just come out, and then I shifted gears towards the SuperWhoLock fandom. If you know anything about SuperWhoLock, then you know you had to have pretty tough fucking skin to be a part of any of it.

Of course, this was back in the day when fandom was an actual community and not authors having to beg for scraps of engagement and people thinking its a numbers game. I was a fairly large blog within the SuperWhoLock community (Waywardly-Carrying-On was the username), but I left fandom for a few years because life got hectic and I felt like I had outgrown the fandom itself as I was no longer watching any of the shows. As the years went on, I started to yearn for the fandom experience again, which is how I found myself dipping toes into several different ones.

I was so excited to publish my first fanfic. I had convinced myself that I wasn't a good writer (much to the chagrin of my irl friends), and I had put a pause on writing my original story. I wanted to write this idea about a cowboy and a girl using characters that I had grown to love like I did way back in my older days. So, I started posting, and I was so excited for the story, that I kept posting almost daily. MamaMay was one of the first people to embrace not only my story, but me as a person into the fandom. She made me feel welcomed and wanted.

Pretty much right off the bat I was already getting anons telling me that I was being too much and that I needed to calm down with all the posting. I was confused because...this is Tumblr. It's literally a blogging website? Why wouldn't I post? I decided to ignore the mean words (not before giving my opinion, of course) and kept on doing my thing. Well, the anons got continually worse and worse. I had a suspiscion as to who the anons could be, but I never had concrete proof. So, I experimented with blocking suspects until finally it worked. I'm not naming names because that's not my style, so don't even bother asking.

The fact of the matter is, some of you have entered fandom spaces for the first time, and you don't know how to act. You don't care to learn fandom etiquette as you've made abundantly clear by calling fandom olds every name under the sun while utilizing the anonymous feature. Newsflash, you're part of the problem. You're the reason why authors don't want to publish anymore. You are the reason that something that's supposed to be fun is starting to feel like a goddamn chore.

How many times can authors on here say that we aren't machines? We have lives outside of this website: family, friends, jobs, school, etc. Some of you really are just hellbent on making everyone around you miserable, and it's sad. You can't just leave well enough alone and let people enjoy something, no you feel like everyone has to enjoy it the same way as you.

Some of you go after authors on here because of some weird sense of jealousy too. I don't know why my shit blew up, babe, I really don't. But I started out with no followers and no support just like everyone else. I'll tell you what helped me though: following fandom etiquette and reaching out to other creators to build an actual community. None of this "I've reblogged three of your things and now I'm messaging you so that you return the favor." No, I reached out to make actual friendships which is what fandom is SUPPOSED to be. If someone was clearly not interested, it was fine!! I backed off and kept doing my own thing.

Some of you think being mean on the internet makes you big and bad. Guess what! It doesn't! It's loser mentality and I feel genuinely sorry for you. I'm sorry that people in your own life made you feel so small as to feel like you had to lash out at strangers on the internet who are just trying to have fun.

Anyway, this is my really long way of saying that I am taking a break for a little bit. I have no idea how long it will be - could be the weekend, could be a couple of weeks, could be forever. I need time to decide if this is something I want to keep persuing. If I come back, I don't know if I will remain a TGM blog or if I'll shift gears and hop into another fandom with a rebrand. Guess we'll just have to see.

To the people on here who have been a constant source of joy, laughter, and support: thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Your presence has meant everything to me, and I hope that my break sees me wanting to come back and giggle about the silly plane movie with you all again.

Nothing but love,

Liz 💛

[leonsbimbogf]

i still adore you, I swear

🍃! Plug! Miguel x Fem! reader !🍃

A/n: guys i was mf arching my back and typing this out on my laptop n I'm so glad ppl like the first one I rlly appreciate itt pookies! also I had to crop some of this out cause my man was full on arching his BACKK but credits to JesGreenEight for this banner!!!

cw/smut warning: pure smut, Miguel being a freaky man, weed, shitty ending bc y'all KNOW i'm absolute dog dookie at writing them, creampie, oral (m receiving), somewhere in it I said that reader has a bad reflex and I'm so sorrayy.

So now here you are, smoking a joint with your plug. The harsh yet sweet aroma of weed filled his room. He passes the joint back to you letting you take a rip. You cough a little from the smoke clouding your lungs but still manage to have a smile. You pass the joint back to him without a word. Breaking the silence Miguel spoke in an almost slurred tone. 

“I know it’s not the weed speaking but has anyone told you you're so attractive, ma?” His veiny hand finds your thigh before rubbing the flesh without knowing. You immediately snicker as you answer back in a flirty tone.

“Hmm no Miggy they haven't” he trails his hand closer and grips your inner thigh while chuckling, you two were just on the moon. He replies to your comment after taking a hit.

“Honestly I should show you how attractive you are to me.” your eyes widened at his statement but you were intrigued at most. The way his shirt hugged him, the way you can see his cock print through his sweatpants. It was all so feverish. He comes closer to you with his lips up to your neck making the hair stand up practically. 

“You smell so good.” he finally says before placing kisses on your neck making you moan. His kisses go lower to your chest. He takes off your shirt revealing your skin to him. He instantly kisses your neck now having his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. The smell of weed and anticipation is clouding the room. Your panties are already soaked from when he first called you attractive. Before you know it he speaks in an entertaining tone.

 “How about you taking it out for me?”

 You instantly pull down his pants and his underwear. His cock bounces to his stomach before standing back up. His cock was decorated with some hair. Your breath caught in your throat after realizing how hot it was. You knew it was wrong but it felt so damn good, you can say that.

He puts the palm of his hand on your cheek as he rubs your bottom lip with his thumb, he looks down at you with love in his eyes. Were you always this pretty? 

“Look at those pretty lips.” 

he says in an admiring tone. You faintly smile before giving a couple of kitten licks and then actually putting your whole mouth on the tip. 

“You like that?” You mumble out on his cock. Miguel could’ve just came right then and there. He saw how sexy you looked with your soft lips wrapped around his cock like a glove.

 “There you go” he muttered under his breath. You push your head deeper onto his cock but you choke on it due to your horrible gag reflex. You pull back with a saliva string pulling with you.

“Hmm, Miguel..” 

 you say, slurring your words a bit. You were cockdrunk from him. 

“You did such a good job, didn’t you? m’ so proud baby.” He spoke out while looking down at you. He breaks the moment of silence by saying. 

        “Think you can bend over for me mami?” He says before stroking his cock. You bend over to feel his huge hands grabbing and kneading the fat of your hips and pulling your pants down. He gasps and chuckles when he sees your panties with a wet spot making it noticeable. “I see you getting wet for me.” He says.

 He pulls your panties to the side to see your plump lips soaked It just looks like you wanted to get fucked by him. He knows what you need, Just let him guide you. Suddenly you feel his fat mushroom tip lay on your clit. 

“Are you ready bunny?” He just makes you feel mushy inside even if he’s saying simple things. You nod your head before preparing for his cock. He shoves his tip in, You whimper as you can feel being stretched out by his thick tip. 

“Awhh shit. Your pussy’s huggin’ around me.” He moans out. He can even admit that your pussy did make him moan and groan. He has fucked many girls but they all just felt like he had to do it. With you, it feels special. 

“Hmm, M-miggy..please move..” you moan. Your moans sounded pornographic. He bucks his hips into you while grunting. 

“Ah this pussy got superpowers or somethin’ hm?” He jokes before smacking your plump ass. He loves the way it jiggles when he smacks it even lightly. 

“God d-damn.” You manage to yelp out. He thrusts deeper into your pussy. “Fuck you're gonna make me cum. Can’t believe I have your cute ass under me.” 

After minutes of moaning and groaning, you feel a full feeling. His cum sprays inside your cunt and you feel it Immediately fill your cunt up. When he pulls out his soft cock you can feel you can feel his cum leak out of your cunt.

“Your mine got it? my stock is coming soon but you're mine from now on,” he says hugging you to the bed and holding you fairly close to him. You feel butterflies roam around your stomach when you see his hand on your lower waist. Before you even spoke you heard his snores filling the room. You giggle quietly at the fact that he fell asleep in a second.

and here's to my taglist ( ◜‿◝ )♡: @moon-rivr @monstera02 @lazyjellyfish300 @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @yournextbimbogf @chiwhorei

[vivgst]

Bodyguard!Valeria

Okay first of all I kinda hate this, I'm posting it again bc I had posted it privately (bc I'm stupid like that) Uh and it's not proofread so sorry in advance

Valeria was no stranger to hard work, everything she had achieved was because she had broken her back and cried tears of blood but she did not complain.

Right now she was cursing her life and all her ancestors though, she couldn't conceive that you were the most difficult thing of all, you were unbearable, so annoying and stubborn that sometimes she wanted to just vanish into thin air and forget about her damn plan, that's how much of a pain you were for her.

Not only were you putting your life at risk but also hers, you were the wife of the spider's son and one of the reasons why she had been almost forced to watch over you was so that that fucking man wouldn't beat the crap out of you anymore because of his jealousy, however, you weren't making it easy for Valeria.

You were so manipulative, you knew very well how to use your beauty to your advantage and you were so persistent that you managed to get her into your bed and it was so inevitable for her not to give in to your pleas, those caresses that drove her crazy and those kisses that she still couldn't forget.

That night was permanently on her mind, torturing her and reminding her that even though she always had you close, she could never touch you again or her plans would probably be ruined, she had already gained the trust of too many people to make such a carnal mistake as giving in to her impulses.

“Please, it's just a-” You slurred your words out of drunkenness and she rolled her eyes, her hand pressed to your throat, you could see she was upset but you didn't give a damn, like usual.

“Shut your damn mouth, do you want to get killed? Behave". Valeria snapped and she was so sick of you, you could see it, she was tense and her jaw clenched as she looked around to make sure no one had seen you as you rubbed against her and tried to kiss her, luckily the VIP area of ​​the club you two were in was quite secluded and no one was paying attention to you.

She kept her distance for the rest of the night, she stayed alert and watched you to make sure you didn't do something stupid but she didn't let you get too close until you arrived back at the mansion, she helped you go upstairs because you could barely walk properly and when she was going to leave you in the room you pulled her in and closed the door behind her, your husband was not there and you always took advantage of that, or at least that's what you tried to do.

"I have to take a shower". You murmured and kept pulling Valeria by the arm until you got in the bathroom, you weren’t letting her escape from you. “And you have to take care of me, what if I fall and hit my head? It will be your fault.” You grinned cynically at her and she scoffed as she shook her head, the worst part was that you were right and she hated it.

You got in the shower as soon as you undressed, the cold water ran through your whole body and made you shiver.

Her gaze inevitably ran over you from head to toe and she had to swallow hard and remind herself that the woman in front of her was forbidden, having you once had been greedy of her, she couldn't allow herself to have you again even if she wanted to... and oh how much she wanted to.

You, on the other hand, knew very well what you were doing, you slid your hands over your breasts, over your stomach until you reached your belly, you felt the heat between your legs as intense as ever, you had never been in a situation this erotic and you felt breathless, just like Valeria.

The only thing between you was the glass door, she couldn't take her eyes off your body even if she tried. It's not like she wanted to, she felt enchanted as if she was in a spell.

"Don’t do this to me". Valeria spoke almost out of breath, her voice was strained by everything she was feeling and you smiled as you put your hand between your thighs, you leaned against the shower door, the glass fogging up from your gasps and you began to massage your swollen bud that was soaking your fingers, your soft flesh was begging for another touch, it missed her hands. The water that fell on you was cold but not even that helped calm the heat you felt, the burning throughout your body.

Valeria was frozen in place, she couldn't stop looking at you, the way you touched yourself, your face, your whole body, she wanted to get into that shower and taste you until you couldn't stand up anymore, she wanted to turn you into a needy mess and feel your skin and your body against hers, it was a necessity at this point.

She couldn't control herself anymore and since she knew how things would end she preferred to run away, she left the bathroom and went into the room that your impertinent husband had assigned her, if you were sober enough to torture her that way then you were sober enough how to finish taking the damn shower without killing yourself.

She wasn't calming down, she was still panting and saying she was dripping was an understatement, she lay down on the bed and took a couple of deep breaths before cursing under her breath, doing that was giving in to all your fucking teasing but she couldn't help so she unzipped her pants in an attempt to calm the longing she felt for you right now.

And you went into the room, just what Valeria didn’t want... She growled, the tension she was feeling was enough to put her in a bad mood and now you were there to just make her feel even worse, it was a bad night, it was a bad job.

“No, get out.” Valeria spoke and you couldn't help the mischievous grin that adorned your face when you heard her, you knew that voice very well, you nibbled on your lip as you approached her bed, straddling her, your hand wrapping around her neck and the other going down her breasts, all over her torso until you put it inside her pants, you could feel how wet she was just from brushing her underwear with your fingers, her walls clenched around nothing, craving, longing to feel something inside, it was painful.

She was staring at you as she let out heavy pants, her body felt on fire and she knew she could take you off her lap if she really wanted to, you weren’t the strongest woman so she could just push you away, she could.

The question was... did she want to?

You gently caressed her over her underwear and put your hand inside, rubbing her flesh that was unusually soaked and you narrowed your eyes at her as you bit your lip, you were finally touching her again.

You lowered your fingers to her entrance and slowly sank them inside her, her walls clung to you, milking your fingers and your breath hitched in your throat, she was never this wet and the realization made you smirk, this was a first and you promised yourself right there that you would enjoy it.

“Oh… Are you ovulating?” You murmured in a mocking tone but Valeria didn't answer, she just glared at you as she gasped and you curled your fingers, rubbing that spot inside her that made her feel helpless and she whimpered. “That's why you're wet like a bitch in heat, right, honey?” You whispered softly, increasing the speed with which you massaged her g-spot.

“Screw you.” She snapped, feeling breathless, her moans were more audible now and it was killing you, you had never seen her this turned on, it was just making you feel desperate and needy.

You started grinding your hips against her thigh as you massaged her insides and she was so tight you felt like she would rip your fingers off, which meant she was close.

You pushed your thumb against her swollen nub, her thighs started to shake and you brought your lips to hers, you were doing what you wanted with her, but it wasn’t enough.

“I want you to get me out of here”. You spoke hoarsely as you kept working your fingers inside her, the heat of her insides were driving you insane. You loved feeling pleasure, but the most exciting part about having sex with Valeria was pleasuring her, making her weak until she couldn’t stop squirting.

“I will.” She breathed out, her arms clasping around your waist so she could feel you closer as her orgasm was crushing her whole body, you could feel it in your hand, the way she was tightening and tensing up, it was hot. And you moved your fingers harshly, harder just like you knew she liked it.

“I want to be with you, I don’t want to be with him”. You spoke close to her lips and she nibbled on your bottom lip, her body felt like it wasn’t hers anymore, it was yours, yours to control, to posses, she gave you the right.

“We…” Her words were silenced by her own moans, she couldn’t keep quiet like she intended to just a couple minutes ago because the feeling was overwhelming, it wasn’t just her wet cunt that was sensitive, it was her entire self, her nipples were stiff and you couldn’t see it because her bra was hugging her chest, it was uncomfortable, she wanted your soft hand around her breasts, circling her nipples, playing with that delicate skin you loved so much.

The sound of your fingers fucking her was so obscene, and soon enough you could hear how wet she was getting so you knew it was time to took them out.

Your gaze fell over your fingers, glistening with Valeria’s’ juices and you felt thirsty, you put them in your mouth and moaned as you felt her taste spread across your tongue.

The front door creaked and took you both out of the little cloud you were in. You quickly got off Valeria's lap and snuck to your room, just in time for your husband to come in and lie down next to you, thinking you were asleep or maybe not even thinking about you at all.

And you couldn't help but smirk as you imagined how happy you would be when this nightmare was over, just you, Valeria, and the empire you knew she would build.