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strang3lov3 · 6 months

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Massage Chair

Summary: Joel teaches you to massage him, then takes advantage of your new skill. After, he shows his gratitude.

Tags: Lots of joel teasing, malicious compliance, light arguing, smut, fingering, teasing, romantic massaging, creampie, slower and more emotional, joel comforting u after boning.

a/n: thank you for your patience with me! I wanted to have this done last week, but I ended up in the ER which slowed me down a little. But, that gave me more time to write and @papipascalispunk time to beautifully edit this <3 she's such a babe.

(mall rats 5, though can be read as standalone. find more mall rats in my masterlist)

A brown leather chair is flipped on its side, and Joel’s tinkering with the parts inside, cursing and hissing expletives. It’s a broken massage recliner that came with Joel’s house, and he spotted the same model at Macy’s back in the old mall. So he stole bits and pieces, and now he’s attempting to fix the chair. It’s not going too well.

“God bless it,” Joel grumbles at you, “Quit shinin’ the flashlight on the damn floor. Shine it inside the chair.”

“I am shining it inside the chair, Joel,” you argue, “Why don’t you make Ellie hold the flashlight for you?”

“‘Cause she can’t hold it right either. You girls suck at using flashlights,” Joel grimaces as he sits up off the ground, then reaches for your hand that’s holding the light. He manipulates your position, adjusting the way you’re sitting and how you hold the flashlight and says, “There. Stay like that.”

You smirk, “Oh Joel, it makes me so hot and bothered when you take control of me like that.”

Joel sighs, frustrated with you. Like always. “Was that really necessary?”

“Of course it was,” you reply. Moving gingerly, he lays back down on the carpeting. The chair makes small, metallic clanging noises as he works, and you’ve got a perfect view of his ass. So tight and plump in those jeans. What a treat.

Joel turns on his side, twisting his torso to reach for a different screwdriver. This time, he grunts in pain. He works a little longer, then tosses the screwdriver aside before hoisting himself up. His knees crack and ache as he slowly stands up, carefully pulling the chair upright and plugging it into an outlet. You watch as he sits in the chair, lifts up the armrest to press a few buttons, and the chair comes to life. He keeps his eyes squinted shut, his chest rising and falling heavily with every labored breath he takes. He fidgets with the buttons as the chair makes different mechanical whirring noises, vibrating and pressing into his back.

“Can I try it?”, you ask.

“No,” he deadpans, “S’not massagin’ too good anyway – kinda just vibrates. And before you ask – no,” you smirk as he glares at you, “It doesn't vibrate like that. So don’t even think about doin’ that to my chair, you horndog.” He knows you so well.

When Joel is done speaking, he sighs and closes his eyes again. It’s a little awkward, watching Joel sit in his massage chair. He doesn’t seem very comfortable, and it’s making you feel sort of sad. His back has been killing him for weeks. He doesn’t talk about it much, but you can tell it’s getting worse. As he squeezes his eyes shut, those two little lines between his brows grow more prominent than usual. He inhales through his nose and exhales from his mouth, like he’s trying to breathe away the pain.

Before the outbreak, he found things like heated massage chairs and beds that move up and down to be frivolous and unnecessary. In his twenties and thirties, if his back hurt he’d pop a few Advil and tough it out. Not exactly an option now. So, an old massage chair it is.

“Have you been icing your back, Joel?”, you ask but Joel opens just one eye and glares at you. You take his silence as a no. “You need to ice it.”

“My back’s fine,” Joel lies as he rolls his eyes at you, “Go away. Go play in traffic.”

“Are you keeping yourself hydrated?”, you continue.

“Yes.” You look at Joel, then you look next to him. The full glass of water on his end table says otherwise, condensation pooling on the wood. Joel looks there too, then back at you as you stare at him, unimpressed, “Yeah, I drink enough water, dammit. What’s with the third degree?”

You ignore his question, “Are you getting enough rest?”

“What do you think I’m tryin’ to do right now?” Again, you stare at him with an unimpressed expression. Joel sighs, exasperated, “For the love of god, I rest plenty.” Out of all the ways you could annoy him, this is the most brutal. It’s torturous. He continues, “I’d rest easier if you weren’t here, y’know. So get gone. Quit naggin’ me.”

“Charming, Joel. Like always,” you tell him, your tone sarcastic. Lifting yourself up, you stand in front of him and take his hand in your own. You pull with all of your might to lift him up, and drag him to his feet. He groans the entire time.

“Oh, come on,” Joel complains. He knows that look you’ve got on your face, knows that you’re on a mission and he’s coming with. Of course he’s coming with. He’s always stuck with you, somehow. “What are you signin’ me up for now?”, as you lead him to his room, matching his slow pace as he takes heavy steps, so as not to overwhelm his ancient bones.

“Bed,” you tell him.

Oh. Joel gets it now. You’re forcing him to take a rest. Could be worse, he supposes, but he always has a flair for the dramatic, so he sighs heavily as he lays down, making sure you know he is not happy that you’re putting his ass to bed. You untie his boots and pull them off his feet, then toss them aside.

Just as Joel settles on his back, you move to his side of the bed and put your hands under his torso and thigh, then roll him onto his stomach rather harshly. He yelps in pain, “Jesus Christ–”

“Sorry,” you mumble sheepishly. You join him on the bed, straddling his butt, careful not to put too much pressure on him.

Joel is confused beyond words. Before he can process what you’re doing, he feels you bouncing the sides of your hands down his shoulders and spine, and then you’re pinching and smushing his body haphazardly. “Uhh, what are you doin’ to me?”, he questions now. It is a deeply uncomfortable sensation.

“Massaging you, because your chair doesn’t work,” you tell him, continuing your work on his back, “It’ll help you rest. I’m feeding two birds with one scone, Joel.”

“That – that’s not how the phrase – fuck, never mind,” Joel relents, baffled as you “massage” him. He lets you continue for a few moments longer before deciding he’s had enough. “Sweetheart, it’s very kind of you, but you are terrible at this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, no, this is god awful. You’re gonna break my damn spine in half,” Joel pauses before speaking again, thinking to himself. There’s no way you’ve had or given a massage before now. “Am I your guinea pig?”

“Kinda,” you answer quietly.

“I could tell,” Joel taps you on the leg twice, “Alright, get off and switch me spots.”

“What for?”, you ask.

“So I can teach ya how it’s done and keep you from committing a fuckin’ felony assault on my back,” he says, “What you’re doin’... it’s inhumane, darlin’.” He’s being very Joel about this. Harsh, a little rude. Dramatic. You climb off him and he scoots off of his bed. “Take off your shirt,” he tells you, “S’rule one of a good massage. You’re supposed to massage a person, not their clothes.”

“Noted,” you say. Joel leaves then, maybe to give you privacy or something, not that you need it. If Joel wants you to strip naked, you’ll strip naked, no questions asked. You’d lay yourself on a silver platter for him, cherries on your ass and an apple in your mouth. Though, you do think it’s sweet he’s trying to keep you feeling comfortable. Joel Miller, always the gentleman.

You strip nude, then lay on your stomach on the bed, right where Joel was. His sheets feel warm from his body heat and they smell like him too, warm and musky and woody. You’re facing his window, where outside it’s overcast and gloomy. On his bedside table sits his book of crossword puzzles.

The stairs and floorboards creak as Joel returns to you. He stops dead in his tracks at the sight of you naked and face down in his bed, rolling his eyes at your lack of modesty. Joel places a few things on his dresser, then a little glass container full of oil on his bedside table. “Only had to take your shirt off, hon,” he says.

“Oh. I thought you wanted me naked.”

“You’ve got selective hearing,” Joel lowers the curtains by his window and lights a few candles on his dresser, “I think you wanted you naked.” In the darkened room, he moves behind you and you hear the sound of fabric moving before he’s draping a blanket over your bum. You shrug, “Sorry, Joel. Guilty as charged.”

“Uh huh,” he mumbles. Joel rolls up his sleeves before beginning. “You ready?”, you nod, and so does he. He takes the container of oil and drizzles it down your spine. It’s warm, a little sweet and fragrant. You feel relaxed already. Joel then pours some of oil into the palm of his hands and rubs them together. “First thing, you always wanna be mindful of any painful or sensitive areas. Anything you need me to be careful about?”

“Uh, no. My back doesn’t usually hurt,” you tell him.

“Must be nice,” he mumbles. After rubbing his palms together, he places them on your back. He spreads the drizzled oil from your lower back up to your neck and shoulders in long strokes with his palms, so big and strong and warm. You sigh in relief. “The oil makes it easier to glide your hands. Don’t wanna use too much, though. And you’re gonna spread it out, nice and even.”

You nod, your eyes closed, “What about the candles?”

“Candles don’t make a difference. Just thought you’d like ‘em,” Joel whispers.

“I do.”

He spends the next couple minutes using wide, gentle strokes of his hands to completely spread the oil over your body. Once he’s satisfied, he places his hands at your shoulders. He works his thumbs into your traps and up your neck, pushing and sliding them up your skin. “How’s the pressure?”, he asks, “Too much? Not enough?”

“Little too much,” you tell him.

Joel lightens the pressure and continues the motion, “Feel nice?”

All you can do is hum in response. It feels incredible. His hands are so firm and gentle, so careful. Your skin is warm and his touch is comforting. He works his way down your body, massaging and rubbing your muscles. He alternates between circular and back and forth movements.

“Good. Remember that. Be nice and fluid when you massage me,” Joel whispers, “None of that karate choppin’ shit.”

“None of that karate choppin’ shit,” you repeat, matching his tone.

Joel massages you everywhere for the next ten minutes. Instructing you to stay away from the spine directly, but focus your pressure next to it. Focus on the muscles. You can dig your thumbs in, use your knuckles, even the heels of your palms. He tells you he’s being more gentle, but he’s gonna need you to use your body weight.

“You writin’ this down?”, he asks.

“Mmm, yeah. Got my pen and paper right here,” you murmur. He massages a sensitive spot on your back and you moan softly.

“Hey,” he warns, “Don’t be enjoyin’ this so much. S’for my benefit, not yours. I’ve got ulterior motives for massagin’ you.”

“Oh?”, you whisper.

“Yeah, oh. You volunteered yourself to fix my back, so I’m gonna take advantage.”

“Joel?”

“What’s that, hon?” he asks quietly.

“I’m not, fuck, right there,” you breathe, “M’not learning a whole lot. Need some more pointers.”

“Always workin’ an angle,” he retorts, “But I don’t have nothin’ else to tell ya.” Joel massages you quietly for a couple more minutes, generously giving you more massaging than he anticipated. But he likes it, likes knowing you’re feeling good. The soft noises you’re making, how smooth your skin feels. He loves watching the candlelight dance across your skin while he runs his palms up and down your hips, your sides, pouring over your curves. You’re lost in the sensation for a few moments longer before Joel taps your hip, “Alright, time’s up.”

“No, Joel, come on,” you whine, “Not yet, don’t stop now.”

“Move it,” he says, tapping your hip harder, “S’my turn. My back hurts, not yours. You said so yourself.”

You whine again, “Please? Just a little longer.”

“Mmm, nope. Let this be a lesson to ya, don’t start somethin’ you can’t finish.” Joel leaves to go to his bathroom then, turns on the hot water in his sink and returns with a warm rag. He gently scrubs your back, removing the excess oil.

Finally, you sit up in defeat. “Give me that,” you grumble, reaching for the rag. You take it to the bathroom and rinse it out for Joel as he begins undressing. When you return, Joel is shirtless face down in his bed, a blanket draped over his ass, just like how he had you.

“Alright hon, I’m ready. Show me whatcha got.”

Standing next to him, you step a little closer to the bed and survey Joel. He’s on his tummy facing you, his eyes shut gently. He looks gorgeous like this, his hair messy, his shoulders thick and broad. You trace the curve of his back with your eyes, curious when you look at his ass. So plump under that blanket. Reaching forward, you lift the blanket.

“What’re ya doin’,” Joel asks in an annoyed tone.

“I’m just…”, you trail off, admiring the swell of his ass cheeks. Joel doesn’t seem to mind when you touch his bum, squeezing the flesh gently and watching it move beneath your fingertips.

“You’re snoopin’,” he answers his own question for you.

“Yeah,” you breathe. You look at Joel again, and he’s still got his eyes shut. A small smile on his face that you know wouldn’t be there if he knew you were looking at his face.

“Why don’t you snoop a little higher, dirty bird.”

“Okay,” you murmur, draping the blanket over his ass. “Can you remind me of step one again?”

“Ah, someone wasn’t payin’ attention,” he teases, “Sure. Ya gotta ask me where it hurts.”

“Where’s it hurt?”

“Everywhere.”

You sigh, “Thanks, Joel. That’s helpful.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to give my neck and shoulders a little extra lovin’, though.” You nod, then reach for his shoulders. “Nuh uh,” he tuts, “Oil first.” You reach for the oil and hover it over Joel’s body. “Easy does it. Little goes a long–”, but Joel is interrupted when he feels a large splash of oil on his back, dripping over his sides and onto his sheets. Definitely gonna stain.

“Ah, fuck,” you curse, “My bad.”

“God bless it,” Joel grumbles, “S’alright. Get the rag and clean me up a little.”

Doing as you’re told, you get the rag from the bathroom and wipe away the oil you don’t need. Then you spread the oil on Joel’s back, using your palms to drag it from the area just above his ass cheeks to his wide shoulders. Joel hums in satisfaction. You lean over him to begin massaging his body, but you’re finding it uncomfortable. “Do you mind if I straddle you again?” you ask, “To reach your back easier.”

“Go for it.”

You hold onto Joel’s shoulders for stability as you straddle yourself over him, sitting on his ass and settling your knees at his sides. This way, you have much more mobility. You place your palms at his lower back, thumbs on either side of his spine and press into him hard, then work your hands up his body. He sighs softly. “How’s that?”, you ask.

“Jury’s still out,” he replies, “Do that again, little harder this time.” When you do, Joel sighs deeper, “S’it. Much better.”

You repeat the general motion, but vary your movements. Sometimes letting your hands explore his sides, making big and small circles, large sweeping motions. Joel groans when you walk your thumbs up his spine. “Yeah, very nice,” he praises.

Once at his upper back, you focus pressure on his shoulders and neck. You curl your fingers inward and use your knuckles for added pressure. “Little more,” he tells you. You press harder, but his muscles are so tight. “Harder,” he says, “C’mon, use some elbow grease.”

“I’m gonna hurt you, Joel,” you argue.

“You ain’t gonna hurt me,” he says. “In fact, I want you to try.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, hon. Hard as you can. Like you’re tryna squeeze the life outta me.”

Shaking your head, you try it. You squeeze his traps, digging your thumbs into his flesh as hard as you can. You watch his skin turn white under your fingertips.

“Fuck,” he moans, “There it is. Good girl, doin’ such a good job.”

Oh dear lord. His words go straight to your pussy. You continue to work his neck and shoulders, listening to Joel breathe and sigh, moan and groan. You admire his back, his freckles and moles and stretch marks here and there. “Good girl,” he praises you again. He whispers it over and over and over. Good girl.

He’s making all sorts of sinful noises, cursing all kinds of obscenities, and you’re falling to pieces just listening to him, feeling his hot skin. You picture his face, contorted in pleasure.

You feel warm, your core beginning to ache. You didn’t quite expect to get so worked up over this. As you lean forward over Joel to massage him, you tilt your hips into his back, pressing yourself against him for some sort of relief. Maybe repeating the motion once or twice.

“I can feel that,” he says.

“Feel what?”

“You. Drippin’. Rockin’ those hips on me. You’re makin’ a mess all over me, dirty bird.”

Your cheeks heat up and you’re feeling a little bashful at the accusation.

“Ya gotta finish my massage before we take care of that, hm?”

“Yeah,” you agree. Not like you have much left to do anyway. You’ve been massaging him for half an hour at this point, paid special attention to each area of his back. After massaging him for a few minutes longer, you tap his shoulder blade to let him know you’re done. Joel lifts himself up and begins to twist over, so you lift up to your knees to make room. “Wait, Joel, your sheets–”

“You ruined ‘em already.” He’s right. Oh well.

Once he’s settled, you sit down on his lap. His cock is half hard already. You reach for it, and he swats your hand away. You balk in confusion. “Ya ain’t done yet,” he tells you.

“What are you talking about?”

“Massage tax,” he says plainly, as if somehow you should have known that’s a thing and you roll your eyes, “It’s the law.”

“That is not a law.”

“Is now,” he says, taking his cock into his hand. You watch him work himself, swiping his thumb over the blushed tip a couple of times before holding it tightly, restricting your access.

“Joel,” you whine, “This isn’t– come on, man.”

“I know. I ain’t happy about it either,” he says, though his mischievous smile says differently,

“Government’s just rife with corruption, ain’t it?”

You can’t say you didn’t have this coming. You’ve tormented Joel for months in a myriad of ways. You deserve this.

“I don’t deserve this,” you tell him.

“‘Course not,” he says softly, still holding his member tightly. You try to wriggle his fingers away, but he’s got an iron grip. You sigh in defeat, annoyed. Joel looks all too proud of himself.

“I hate you, Joel.”

“You wound me sweetheart, really. It hurts,” he inhales sharply through his teeth, extending an arm to you, “Hurts almost as much as my arm, you know that? S’been so sore, my hands an’ fingers too.”

Yeah, yeah. You get the picture.

Glaring at him, you watch him shimmy into the pillows and wiggle his arm at you again. You’ve still got some oil on your hands, so you don’t bother with the bottle on his nightstand.

“Start up top,” he instructs you.

You move a little closer, taking his upper arm into your hands. You squeeze the muscles of his biceps and triceps, and as much as this is bothersome, it’s nice too. His muscles are strong, big, and firm. You’ve never really seen them until now. You admire the contours of his arm, the soft lines his muscles make. “And work your way down, down,” he says. And you follow, massaging his forearm. He sighs when you reach his hands, “S’my favorite part,” as you massage his palm, each knuckle of his digits. His hands are worn and calloused.

You drop his hand once you feel like you’ve done enough, “Done.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Hm,” Joel hums before offering you his other arm, holding his cock now with his other hand, “I’ve got an entire arm you haven’t touched yet.” You stare at him with a blank expression. Joel pouts and acknowledges your disappointment by saying, “I know, hon. I’m so sorry.”

You roll your eyes, taking his other arm into your hands. “No, you aren’t.”

“Yeah, I’m not sorry,” he says, “Not one bit.”

And so again, you repeat the motions, first massaging his biceps and triceps. The hand that holds his cock rests between your thighs, and you begin grinding into it. Eyes shut, he raises one brow in amusement at your arousal. You’re soaked.

Finally, he lets himself go. His cock springs free, rock hard with protruding veins, and you inch forward so that it sits between your thighs.

As you massage his forearm now, you rock your hips slightly. Joel surely notices, though he doesn’t mind. You rock yourself quicker, chasing that sweet friction on your clit. Your hands are at his palm now, thumbs urgently rubbing circles into the flesh. You need to be done with this.

“Slow it down,” he tells you, “S’not a race.”

You groan, but slow down anyway. You screw your eyes shut as you massage his palm sloppily, your focus now concentrated on what's happening between your thighs. Your pussy is slick as you roll your hips, grinding against his hard cock. That familiar coil in your gut is back. “Joel,” you cry, “My hands are sore.”

“Now you know how I feel,” he retorts, and you whine impatiently. “Ya never do any hard work in your life. C’mon, you’re almost done,” he taps your ass, “Lift up a little. I like watchin’ you get yourself all worked up on my cock.”

As you work Joel’s hand, you lift yourself, hovering just inches above him. With his free hand, he takes his cock and drags himself through your dripping folds, collecting your slick on his tip. It feels good, your pussy is sensitive. He nudges his head against your clit, back and forth and periodically notches himself at your entrance, playing with you, achingly torturing you. “Joel,” you whine as he teases you, “My thighs are aching, hands too, ca— can’t do this anymore.”

“Sure ya can,” he coos. It feels like you’ve been massaging him for hours, way longer than he massaged you. This isn’t fair in the slightest, even with his back pain.

Truth be told, the hand and arm massage stopped feeling good for Joel a long time ago. You’re aching and tired, and so are your hands, not giving him the proper pressure he needs. But he’s taking advantage of this opportunity to tease you, drive you insane. He feels it’s warranted.

And then finally, finally, he pulls his hand away from you. You’re done.

You flop next to Joel and take his hand back in yours, guiding his fingers to your center. “Please,” you beg him, “Touch me. Do something.”

Joel clicks his tongue, “No can do.”

“What?”

“Yeah, think I just wanna rest now.” You stare at Joel, confused. He shrugs, “And I’m just parched. Need some water. And I’d go and get it, but I don’t want ya to yell at me again. I’m supposed to be resting, like you said.”

“You want me to get you water,” you confirm, annoyed.

“And some ice, too,” he adds.

Joel watches with a smirk on his face as you shove his hand away from your thigh and huff, then stomp out of his bedroom and all the way downstairs. After Joel hears the sound of running water and the slamming of cabinets, you return moments later with a glass of water and some ice wrapped in a towel. You mumble, “You can shove this ice right up–”

“Right up my ass, got it,” Joel takes the ice in one hand and the glass of water in his other. Joel drinks a sip of the water, then makes a disgusted face, “You gave me warm water? What is wrong with you?”

“You didn’t specify the temperature.”

Joel rolls his eyes and sets both the ice and the water on his nightstand. “Fuckin’ psycho,” he mumbles. Even when he thinks he’s one step ahead of you in the never-ending quest to piss one another off, he’s not. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

You smile, “Thanks.”

Joel stares at you for a moment, admiring the mischievous grin on your face and that look in your eye. And then faster than you can blink, he takes your arm in his hand and pulls you back into bed as you giggle. You hear him laughing too, and then he’s situating himself above you. Hovering over you with one arm by your head, he takes his fingers into his mouth and sucks on them before bringing his hand between your thighs.

You breathe a sigh of relief. You’re so sensitive and he’s finally fucking touching you, fingertips dragging through your slick folds, circling your clit before dipping one, then two fingers inside you. He finds your clit with his thumb, rubbing tight circles into you. “Quit teasing,” you plead.

Joel laughs breathlessly above you, “M’not teasin’—”

“More,” you interrupt him, “I need more.”

“You got it,” he says, then inserts a third finger. He curls them repeatedly inside you, your pussy gushing and soaking his fingers, making all sorts of wet, sticky noises.

But it’s still not enough. You’re so fucking needy, so ready for Joel to just fuck you. You push his hand away and reach for his cock, wrapping your legs around him and using your feet on his ass to push him down closer to you.

“Ah, fuck,” Joel hisses when he feels your hand touch his member, “Hey, easy, sweetheart. Let’s slow it down.”

“Slow it down my ass,” you argue, “I want you now, Joel.”

“Now?”

“Need you now,” you repeat, tilting your hips and bouncing your heels on his ass, “Now, now, now, now–”

Joel smiles at your desperation, at the way he’s managed to torture you. “Didn’t quite catch that, bad hearing and all that. You want me to fuck you when exactly?”, you cry in pure agony and Joel says, “Gotta mark my calendar, set my alarm clock...”

Your groans of frustration quickly turn into a soft sigh of pleasure as Joel takes you by surprise, pushing his cock inside you deeply, inch by inch, in one fluid motion. The stretch feels incredible and you’re so perfectly full of him. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close with one of your hands resting on his shoulder and the other tangled in the soft curls on his head.

“Been needin’ this, huh?”, Joel asks as he settles inside you, letting you adjust to the stretch.

You nod, your cheek brushing against his scratchy, salt and pepper facial hair. “You’re such an asshole,” you whisper, “You make me so mad.”

“Ditto, sweetheart,” he mumbles as he kisses your cheek. That’s become a regular thing, now. Always kissing your forehead, your cheeks. It always makes you blush. Joel pulls out of you nearly all the way before pushing back in. Over and over, building to a steady pace, and he makes soft grunts as he fucks you.

You love how he cages you in, surrounds you, the low light of the candles dancing on his face as he fucks you passionately. And he’s watching you, big brown eyes full of something you can’t quite read. He pulls your hand from his hair and pins it next to your head, his fingers interlaced with your own. It’s sweet and it’s intimate, almost too intimate.

You can’t take this right now. Can’t deal with the way it feels, to be treated so specially by Joel.

You untangle your fingers from his, and he watches you with a confused expression on his face. Reaching low, you slap his ass, “C’mon, fuck me harder. Use some elbow grease,” you mock his words from earlier, “Or does your old ass back hurt too much?”

Joel stills and stares at you. You stare back, challenging him. “Why are you bein’ like this?” he asks, “Do y’always have to instigate?”

“Think I just heard your hip crack, too,” you tease, but it gets no reaction from Joel.

“Quit while you’re ahead,” he warns, then composes himself before speaking again, “Have some faith. You trust me?”

There’s something different about the way he’s looking at you, watching you. You’re apprehensive, but you nod anyway.

“I said, we’re gonna slow it down this time,” he whispers, “Gonna go nice and slow.”

Joel pulls out of you then, and you groan in disappointment. He silences your displeasure with a quiet shhhh, then moves lower down your body. He runs his hands over your tummy, up your sides, tracing each and every curve. Kisses one hip bone, “I know I was teasin’ ya,” he says, “And I really put ya to work with that massage. That you offered t’do, mind you,” he adds as he kisses your other hip bone, “Really didn’t think that you were gonna get me ice and a glass of water. Wasn’t surprised when you told me to shove it up my ass, but I wasn’t expectin’ to drink warm water. Was a nice touch, trouble.”

You begin to speak, but you stammer, struggling to find the right words. You squirm under his touch. He’s being so gentle, so sweet that he’s got you all flustered now.

“Yeah, I know, sweet girl,” Joel mumbles against your skin. Pressing soft and wet kisses on your body, his fingers leisurely dragging through your dripping folds as he looks up at you, “I want you to know that I appreciate you. I appreciate all the ass backward things you do for me. I really do.”

“Joel, I–fuck,”, you moan. He’s pumping his fingers inside you again, now licking and kissing your nipples, swirling his tongue over the soft skin, worshiping every inch of your body.

“Yeah, don’t let it go to your head. Y’still drive me fuckin’ nuts.” You laugh breathlessly, voice caught in your throat as Joel kisses up your neck, up your jaw, your chin, and stopping just before your lips when he hears your breath hitch. He searches your eyes, sensing your apprehension. He knows the weight of the intimacy that kissing your lips holds, especially since it’s been put off so long. He’s gonna kiss you. Just not yet. “Now can we try this again?”

When you whisper a quiet yes, he enters you for a second time, burying himself inside of you. He begins to fuck you again, slow and deep, letting you feel every inch of him, parts of him you don’t usually feel. His quiet breaths on your skin, the thick vein of his cock, his soft tummy, so warm against yours. Usually he fucks you hard, fast. But today, he’s savoring you. You dig your heels into his ass, faster. It has to be faster.

“Don’t fight me on this,” he says, “We can just be nice, pretend you like me and I like you. Just this once. We don’t always have to argue.”

“Joel,” you whine, “Please. I can’t–I want–”

“I know what you want, ya want what we’re used to. But s’not so bad, I promise,” he purrs above you, “Tell me– fuck, tell me how you feel.”

Exposed, but good. Really good. It’s new and unfamiliar, but so fucking good, but it feels like a crime to admit that. “Joel,” is all you can say, “Joel.”

“I know,” he murmurs, rolling his hips against yours, one hand on your waist holding you tight as he fucks you, “Doin’ so good for me.”

You still can’t bring yourself to say anything, don’t know how to respond to him. You’re at a loss for words, feeling him like this. How warm and protected and loved you feel. Your skin is on fire and you can’t help but close your eyes, retreating inward. But as different as this is, you don’t want him to stop, so you hold him tighter, pulling his face down to yours and burying yourself in his neck.

Joel fucks you like that for a while. Just like that, with every thrust being intentional, feeling devastatingly good. You lose yourself in the feeling and Joel seemingly does as well. Words are left unspoken as he savors this moment with you.

Hours could have passed, you wouldn’t know. Joel’s movements are becoming erratic, quicker. “Come with me,” he begs, resting his forearm above your head and moving the other to your center, as he paints tight circles around your clit, “I want you to come with me, sweetheart. Please.”

It’s not long after that when that familiar heat in the pit of your stomach is back, fluttering and intense. “Oh, god,” you moan, “M’close.”

“That’s it, just let yourself go,” he breathes, “With me, now.”

His words are all it takes. Your orgasm washes over you slowly, intensely. It’s powerful, the way lava flows from the earth, setting your skin ablaze. It’s overwhelming as Joel fucks you through it, chasing his own release. He makes broken moans and grunts as he comes with you, painting your insides with his hot seed.

He pants on top of you, catching his breath before pulling out of you, not caring that you’re now dripping his spend onto his bed. He lays next to you, pulling you into his side with your legs tangled between his and your head resting on his shoulder.

You’re crying, quietly. That’s never happened before. Joel feels your tears dripping down his skin, and he looks at you with concern.

“M’fine, Joel, I was just–It was just–”

Joel speaks to you soothingly, “I know, I know,” he whispers, “I’m right here.”

He just holds you like that, his fingertips trailing over your skin in lazy patterns. When he chuckles to himself, you look at him. “What?” you ask.

“Warm water,” he says, amused, “You amaze me.”

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #mall rats!joel #mall rats joel #mall rats

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mountainsandmayhem · 2 months

Text

Shhh...Just A Little Bit More

DBF!Joel x Fem!Reader

18+ MDNI

Masterlist || Part Two || Part Three (Soft Version) || Part Three (Spicy Version)

Summary: Joel catches you somewhere you shouldn't be, twice. CW: all p no plot! age gap, spanking, dirty talk, parental guilt, brat and brat tamer, sub/dom dynamics, edging and degradation kinks if you squint AN: I found the bottom right photo on Pinterest and @mermaidgirl30 said it screamed DBF!Joel. I have never written for DBF before so please be kind. Dividers by @saradika-graphics - thank you for all your amazing graphics and dividers, I'd be lost without your page.

“Let go of me, you fucking psycho!” You’re practically yelling over the music of the club, wrenching your arm from Joel’s strong grasp. The security guard approaches and Joel shoots him a glare so dark that he holds his hands up and steps back. “What the fuck, Joel?”

“What are ya doin’ here, sweetheart” he demands, one eyebrow raised.

“I’m working!” You stomp your foot and then get right up in his face, pointing a finger at him. Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend, hanging out in a strip club one town over. “The real question is, what are YOU doin here?”

You’re only a bottle girl, you don’t get on the stage and have no intentions of stripping. It’s good money, great money actually. At 22 you’re already well on your way to having a down payment on a condo, it’s just too bad you’re having to lie to your parents.

“With my crew, they picked the place. I’m takin’ you home. Go get your coat.” He crosses his arms over his chest, staring at you sternly. The music is pounding in your ears, the air thick with smoke. Even in the dimly lit hallway you can see the way Joel’s eyes rake over your body, taking in the very tiny Jean shorts and bralette you’re wearing.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you spin and flip him the bird as you walk away. You know he’s staring so you give a little extra wiggle of your ass as you walk away. Joel Miller, staring at your ass. The fourteen year old inside you does a happy dance - that version of yourself had a tiny crush on him. Too bad he’s a stuffy, grumpy asshole now. You miss the fun, young Joel. He used to do cannonballs in the pool with you and his daughter Sarah. She was a few years older than you, but he was much more fun than your father. But now? Now he’s a certified prick. Thinking he can drag you away like some sort of barbaric caveman. He’s not your dad, even if he was, you’re an adult.

When you finish your shift you head outside and pull up your Uber app, men often want to do shots with you so even though you never get drunk at work you also don’t drive there.

See, Joel. I’m responsible.

“Let’s go,” his voice is deep, still angry with you. You didn’t see him waiting by the door so you jump.

“Jesus. You fucking scared me.”

“Watch your language. Get in the truck.”

You grumble under your breath that he should kiss your ass as he holds the door open for you. He stalks around to his side of the truck while furrowing his brow and shaking his head.

“Got somethin’ to say young lady?”

“Ya,” you say, slumping in the seat and putting your white vans on his dashboard, “kiss my ass.”

He presses his lips in a thin line, you can see him eyeing your long toned legs from your peripheral vision before the engine roars to life and he speeds off down the gravel highway.

When you pull up to the house he hops out of the truck and is right on your heels as you open the door.

“I’m fine, Mister Miller.” You say with a sneer. You know he hates that, he has told everyone he’s ever been introduced to to call him Joel.

Joel steps into your parents house and calls your dad’s name. “What the fuck! Joel! Shut up!”

He calls for him again and your dad comes stumbling from his room, tying his robe around his sleeping attire. “Joel? What’s going on?” He flicks on the light, squinting against the brightness. “It’s 3 in the morning.”

“Just thought I’d let you now know that the guys at work wanted to go to The Skin tonight. Caught your daughter working there.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Joel?!” You yell, pushing at his broad chest. Your dad stands there stunned. Eyes wide and mouth agape. He thought you were working as a nurses aide overnight at the hospital on weekends. He’s even seen you leave the house in scrubs. All a part of the web of lies you have weaved.

“Don’t speak to Joel that way,” your dad snaps. “Go to your room young lady. We’ll talk about this later.”

“Kiss my ass, cowboy.” You practically spit at him as you stomp to your room. As you round the corner your mom is standing in the hallway clutching her crucifix necklace. You have a sudden urge to hiss at her with the way she’s looking at you, like you’re a disappointment. A sinner, the worst kind of person in her eyes.

The next morning was the fight of all fights with your parents. Your dad tried to ground you, your mom started shoving church pamphlets at you. They wouldn’t even fucking listen.

“IM NOT A STRIPPER,” you yelled at them over and over again.

Finally, when the yelling ceased, your dad said in a very quiet anger, “young lady. I FORBID you from going there again. Is that clear? I don’t care if you’re 22 or 42, if you live under my roof, you live by my rules. You’re going to go to continue going to your university classes during the week, and on weekends you will be home. Studying. Helping your mother with the chores. You will go to bed at respectable hour. If you need money, you ask us. Is that clear?”

You blink back tears and head to your room, slamming the door behind you. You are NOT quitting that job.

When the next weekend rolls around you say goodnight to your parents at 10pm and head to your room. You worked it out with your boss to work the midnight to 4 am shift. So you wait - ear pressed to your door until you finally hear your parents go to bed. You sneak out the same way you’ve been sneaking out for years and run down the street with your newly embroidered denim shorts in hand to meet your Uber.

You peel yourself away from the men and the booze around 2am to get some fresh air, exiting through the back to the dimly lit alley. You take a big inhale through your nose before you see it. The truck. Joel’s truck. And Joel. Leaning against the truck box, arms crossed, one foot up on the tire.

You flip him off and then turn back towards the back entrance to the club. He’s on you so fast, grabbing the back of your bicep in his large hand. “You little brat. You aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Read the shorts, MISTER Miller.” You say it as much venom as you can muster.

His eyes rake down your body and you can almost feel them burning into you. It feels so good, you never want him to stop. Your pussy throbbed when he called you a brat and you wouldn’t be surprised if your light jean shorts hadn’t been soaked through already. When his eyes reach the pocket he sees ‘Kiss My Ass, Cowboy’ stitched in baby pink lettering and his grip tightens.

He’s fucking furious with you. Furious that you’re here. Furious that other men get to see you dressed like this. Furious that he wants you so fucking badly. But mostly, furious because he knows you want him too and he’s a weak weak man when it comes to pretty little things like you. He yanks you back against his body and you let out a pained moan.

“Don’t make me punish you,” he says coldly in your ear and you fight to stop your knees from buckling.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you say breathlessly.

Joel’s lips graze against the shell of your ear, hand gripping so tightly that you’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow. “So that’s what you want? You want me to punish you? Put you in your place? Huh?”

You grind your ass back against him, “you would dare, Joel.”

His other hand clamps down on your hip as he steers you to his truck, walking you around so no one can see the two of you. He opens the back door and pushes you forward until your legs are against the cold steel frame of the vehicle. “You don’t get to call me that. You call me Mr Miller from now on. Understood?”

“Go fuck yourself, Joel,” you emphasize every vowel of his name, digging deeper. Pushing him. Pushing to see how far he’ll go. You get off on being a brat, and by the way his hard cock is pressing into your ass, he does too.

He unbottons your shorts then lifts you slightly and pushes your upper body down onto the seat, the truck is high enough that your feet are dangling, ass stuck out for him. “Look at these slutty little shorts.” He tugs on the hem, your shorts now sitting just above your knees. Your pert ass is exposed to Joel and the night air. He tuts at the sight of you, “No panties. Little fuckin’ tease.”

You whimper at his words, slick starting to coat your thighs. “You’re the one standing back there doing nothing.” You taunt.

The cool night air spreads goosebumps across your skin, your clit twitches in anticipation of his touch. Other men have fucked you hard to get you to shut your mouth. And finally, FINALLY, you’re going to get fucked by Joel Miller. However, you grossly underestimated the different between the boys were with before and the man behind you now.

His hand strikes your cheek hard and you let out a loud pained yell. “What the fuck, Joel!”

“If you’re gonna be a brat,” his hand lands on your ass again, “you’re going to get a spanking.” His voice is harsh and rough as he hits you a third time. The sound of his skin on yours echoing through the cab of his truck. He hits you again, not caring about your cries of protest.

You’ve never been spanked before and you’re thrown by your bodies reaction to it. At first you were shocked, then humiliated and then the pain and heat travelled to the base of your spine and you found yourself starting to get turned on. Arousal pools in your belly with each strike of his palm and when your pussy throbs the humiliation starts to creep back in. Are you supposed to be enjoying this so much, is this what Joel wants?

You bend your knees up, trying to make space between your bodies. One of his strong hands wraps around your ankles, pinning them to the back of your thighs as he spanks you again.

“Stop! I’m sorry. I’ll - “ he strikes you again, harder than the last few times and there’s no more pain, every slap is full of pleasure. You let out a deep moan, your pussy practically gushing onto the leather seats. “Oh fuuuuck.”

Now that it’s turning you on it almost eggs Joel on. “Put your hands out in front of you,” he commands. Your arms shoot out, stretching them across the seat above your head. “Such a needy little slut. You’re drippin’ all over my fucking seat, baby girl.” He strikes you again and your arms flinch. “Keep them there.”

Your ass is starting to get pink, his splotchy handprints covering it. The world around him starts to fade, all that he can see is you and your ass - and he wants to make it hurt. Then he wants to make it good. So very good.

His strikes keep coming, he’s like a man possessed. “Stop, Joel. Please.”

He drops your ankles, then uses his hand to spread your thighs apart, the denim biting into your knees. “Shhh…just a little bit more. Look at this messy pussy. You don’t want me to stop.”

He hits you again and you start to hate how much he’s right. You don’t want him to stop, you’re on the verge of coming and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re sure the second he’s near your clit you’ll explode.

Both of your cheeks are glowing red and Joel finally stops. You’ve both lost track of how many times he’s hit you. His large palm rubs the marks. You know you should keep your mouth shut, but fuck do you love to rile him up.

“Are you done now? I have work to get back to.”

Joel growls behind you. You hear the sound of his belt undoing, the leather whipping out from the demin loops. “I’m sick of your goddamn mouth, baby girl.”

Your eyes widen in fear, stomach twisting up over the thought of him striking your sore ass with his thick leather belt. Your pussy, however, flutters in excitement. Slut, you think to yourself.

You hear his buckle clinking, he grabs you by the hair and jerks your head back. “Open you mouth,” he says with a snarl. You obey him and he slides the folded up leather between your teeth. “Bite down on this. You can speak to me again once you’ve learned your lesson.”

You press your teeth into the rough leather, waiting for his next move. His hand comes across the back of your thigh and it’s a whole different sensation. The pain shoots straight to your core, the walls of your pussy clenching harder than your teeth do as you whine out a high pitched squeal. On instinct your hands shoot back, knees bending to protect yourself from him. He steps back from you, without his heat you’re left in the cold air.

“Arms up and legs down,” he says in an eerily calm voice.

You whimper again, grinding your teeth against the leather of his belt before slowly peeling your arms and legs away from your body, returning to Joel’s desired position. You’re so wet that it’s staring pool along the leather seat of Joel’s truck, your hips slipping slightly.

“Dirty little thing. I’m tryin to punish you and you’re sopping wet.” He steps forward and lays a loud sharp slap with perfect precision right across your sore thigh.

You yelp again, whining as your lash line fills with tears. This is not what you thought would happen when Joel threatened to punish you. And you definitely didn’t expect to fucking love it. You’re so turned on that you feel dizzy.

Joel’s lips come to your thigh. Light kisses and his scratchy facial hair peppering along your red hot skin. “Fuck me,” you say around the leather clamped between your teeth.

Joel laughs into your skin, kissing along the handprints he’s left on your ass. You’re squirming underneath him, pushing your ass towards his face, desperate for him to make you come. His hands grip around your shorts and your whole body relaxes at the thought of him finally fucking you. “I need you to listen to me now, ok?”

You nod fervently and he lets out an amused laugh. You arch your back at him invitingly, but instead of removing your shorts he yanks them back up. You moan out in protest as he lifts you down from the truck. His strong fingers work to do up your shorts before he spins you. You look like a wreck; mascara smudged under your eyes, cheeks pink, eyes glazed and dopey looking. Cock drunk and he hasn’t even given it to you. He grabs the belt and you release it for him. It’s killing him not to fuck you right here and now.

His hand cups your chin, squeezing your cheeks and locking eyes with you. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

You try to nod but he’s gripping you so tightly. “Yea? Then you need to do what I say. Ok?”

“Mm-hmm”

“Go in there and quit. Then come back out here and I will fuck you so hard that you’ll feel it in your throat.”

Taglist:

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eilidh-eternal · 2 months

Text

You learn the truth

Part of the Metanoia series | Part 1 | Masterlist | Ao3 |

Thank you @gemmahale for reading this monstrosity and helping me fine-tune it <3

“Sergeant. How copy?”

Simon looms over Johnny in the team room, sidled up to a sagging couch that’s seen better days, and when he lifts his derelict gaze from the battle-worn photo in his hands he’s met with pinched brows, sloped granite, and folded arms. Worry, in the staid manner he’s come to expect from Simon.

“Solid, Lt,” he answers dutifully, devoid of his usual ebullience, and with a tenor forged from damascus and flint.

Simon rounds with a languid gait to the opposite cushion, stained with something dark, iron-rich and oxidizing in the loose weave, and lowers himself down beside him. Holds out a gloved hand. Johnny obeys his silent command and relinquishes what might just be the most valuable thing he owns. Deposits it gingerly in his waiting palm.

“How’s she doin’?” he asks, smoothing out a crease in the portrait.

“Started school this past year. Whole head taller than last ye saw her. Still carries that damn bear ‘round the house, too.” Takes his tea the same as Simon, according to Isobel.

“Better that than the bloody mask.”

“Aye. Better, that,” he agrees, and a ragged breath saws out of his lungs when he sinks back into the sun-bleached nylon.

“And your pet?” Simon passes the photo back and Johnny tucks it reverently back into his breast pocket, folded neatly and pressed close to his heart—where it belongs.

“Isnae ‘mine’,” he drawls, somnolence roughening his voice despite the afternoon sun pouring in through the concrete window. “Stubborn thing, too. Hasnae been answerin’ her phone.”

“That what’s got you mithered?”

“Worried,” Johnny corrects, and Simon folds his hands across his midsection, settling back alongside him with a throaty grunt and the echo of artillery fire in his bones, popping and cracking beneath the weight of his battle-worn body.

“All the same, innit?”

“Not with her. Not when she…” He toys with a clip on a canvas belt loop, rough fingers tracing the burnished amalgam of iron and carbon, and for a moment, he feels your skin. Metallic beneath his touch, chilled by the wind, precious and perfect in his hands. “You an’ her are cut from the same cloth. Dinnae care much for sharin’.” Even when you should.

You keep him up at night, itinerant thoughts always finding their way through the morass of post-operative lassitude back to you. Wondering what you fill your days with. If you still linger by the window in the placid hours of the morning with a steaming, ceramic mug warming your hands, marking the passage of time by the melting of the ice. If the final snow of spring has laced the wild cherry trees along the row with pearl-drop blossoms and an almond sillage. If you’ve seen the picture he managed to take from the ramp mid-flight, on transport to Laswell’s station, mareel lea of clouds undulating beneath a star-flecked velarium.

Thinking about all the things he said, and the things he didn’t, before he left. Burning with the memory of you, pressed flush against him; soft and warm and safe in the lambent halo of his arms. You felt like his in that moment, and he lies awake, breathing in char and soot from the moreish conflagration ravaging his chest, staining his throat a fuliginous shade of black with each serrated exhale.

He might have told Simon—if the big bastard weren’t rattling the ballistic glass in his sleep.

You’re standing in the pasta aisle, staring at the selection of boxed macaroni, and you’re drifting further and further into an endless, atramentous night.

Funny, you think, when the sun and stars live next door. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. None of it was supposed to be this way. Stars don't fall from the sky. But meteors do. And now… now you have to crawl out of the crater at the bottom of a pitiless ocean, navigate the upheaval of silt and abysmal detritus, and search for the surface without the gilded hand of the sun to guide you.

You should have stayed away.

Isobel would choose the box with the cartoonish bear. Johnny would make a joke about bears liking porridge, not cheesy noodles. You toss it in your basket with the rest of your ready meals, soggy cardboard already weeping condensation, and battle the undertow to the queue at the till.

You should have left them alone.

“Beautiful day, today is.” They don't know that the stars have gone nova. That the ossified remains of the Earth creak and settle in the brumal gloaming, caliginous and desolate. They can’t hear you, pounding on the ice, desperate for apricity in a nuclear winter.

Now you’re the one who’s alone.

“It is,” you lie, and the effluvium of ozone burns your lungs. Cauterizes the hemorrhaging, pulpy mess you call a heart, languishing in the frangible cage of your ribs.

Free divers can hold their breath for 10 minutes at a time. You wonder how long you’ll last trapped beneath a frozen mantle.

It snowed again, the morning Johnny left—pillowed the earth in anticipation of your fall—but several weeks of sleet and freezing rain has turned the pavement into a patchwork of slush and ice that mimics the glacial floes in your veins. Your wellies don’t have the same grip as proper snow boots. Crampons are better suited for the climb ahead. Neither are very practical for a quick trip to Tesco, though. Would look quite odd, standing on ice cleats in the pasta aisle.

The same can’t be said of the car park. With your canvas tote clutched close to your side, you pick your way through fissures of lingering snow. Opt for trickling streams of runoff rather than attempting to balance on the slick pavement. It’s slow going. Tedious. The lingering wind of last week's squall whips at your exposed skin. Lashes and bites, pumping a gelid venom into your veins, and the blackening, gangrenous bits of your mangled heart feel numb. Numb enough that you don’t immediately recognize the car parked next to yours. Twin sets of eyes, stratified ice, rich with moraine, watching from the windows. You don’t realize how the world suddenly feels too bright, staring up through a polynya, until you glimpse an aureate complexion and charcoal hair, silver-streaked with ash and tied up in a loose pony, emerging from the driver's seat.

Fenella MacTavish is a star in her own right. Has a gravity to her that demands to be felt and heard. The pull of your name on her lips drags you through the hole in the ice and dangles you there. Bait for something bigger. Hungrier. And she does it all with a friendly face, a cordon of coronal light woven into a beaming smile—aimed at the fallstreak hole that’s been punched through your sternum.

“Ye’re a fair way from home, lass.” The divisional line of the Baltic and North Sea, from the feel of it. Or maybe somewhere off the coast of Shetland. It doesn’t really matter. Dread still percolates down your spine and you blink against the sudden shock of the sun emerging from the clouds, lurid rays burrowing into your retinas.

“Better prices for produce on this side of town,” you hedge, and she looks pointedly at the sharp protrusions of box corners against canvas, faultline of her brow erupting with skepticism.

“Thought Tesco’s all have the same prices, more or less,” she reasons, and you watch the way she leans against the D pillar, arms folded and braced against a hiemal wind that tousles loose strands of hair about her face. A similar image of Johnny from several weeks ago effervesces to the surface of your memory and you shove it down. Drown it in the brine that spumes on roiling white caps.

You answer with an indolent shrug and make to step around her, slipping your hand in a fleece-lined coat pocket in search of your keys, but like the other MacTavishes you’ve come to know, Fenella has a propensity for prying questions.

“Have ye heard from Joh—”

“No,” you say before she can speak his name, gloved fingers curling around the worn canvas strap across your shoulder like it’s a lifeline. Trying to pull yourself away from the hole in the ice, procellous waves lapping hungrily at your feet where she dangles you from artfully strung words. It’s not technically a lie. Even if there’s a novel's worth of texts from him that have gone unopened and unanswered. “I have—”

“Come have dinner wi’ us,” she volleys back. Guts the wretched desiderium curled at the back of your throat, backed into a corner and hissing at anything that comes near. Coaxes the dolorous, indignant want festering in your chest into the light.

You want Johnny and his ribald jokes. Want him to look at you the way he looks at Isobel when they walk together. To hold your hand inside the pocket of his coat when you both forget your gloves on the way to pick her up from school. Remind you to leave work at the door. Shut your laptop and close the manuscript. Give yourself a break and come watch some mind rotting show with him and Isobel on the couch. Curl up in a tartan blanket, woven with his family's colors, and pretend you aren't falling asleep with your cheek pressed to his shoulder. Want to bake with Isobel and chase Johnny from the kitchen. Read to her on the nights he’s away, out at the pub on Main with friends from work. Be there, sleeping on the couch with Isobel, waiting for him to come home from assignment.

You want, and the teratoid it’s become circles with the porbeagles. Has teeth and a consciousness all it’s own, shredding through sinewy trepidation and tearing through every layer of adamantine flesh that you wear like armor. Stripping you down to the bone and sucking on the treacly marrow.

There’s no reason why you can’t. Johnny’s said as much. Made it patently clear when he all but tucked you into his jacket with him and let the warmth of sun-chapped lips bleed into your algid skin that night on your stoop. But there’s a picture in the livingroom of the townhouse next to yours that clamors each time you pass it. A ghost, bound to this plane by molecules of ink on photo paper, materializing at your back and whispering words of doubt from the umbrage. Telling you to leave. They aren’t yours to have.

You feel rime creeping up your legs, briny sea spray turning denim stiff in the darkening carpark. The sun is sinking, varicolored sky unfurling against the plumage of clouds and an austere snowscape, and it casts shadows across the city, long as the list of reasons you shouldn’t.

“Tomorrow night,” she presses, “roads ‘round here get a tad dodgy after dark wi’ the ice an’ all.” Her eyes drift to the ice surrounding your feet. Stare for a moment, like there are memories trapped there.

You’ve found your keys. Found them several minutes ago, and have been toying with pressing the panic button. Manufacturing some way out of this conversation. Your toes are numb, too. Whether it’s from standing in a river of runoff or Fenella’s snare, swaying precariously and staring down into the gaping maw of repressed desire, you don’t know. But you do know that you can’t stay here. Can’t keep staring at this woman who looks like Johnny and pretend you don’t want to know everything about her. Him. Them. That you don’t want to go to dinner with her and Isobel because you miss them.

“Tomorrow,” you begin, “I have a meeting. Have to stay late.”

“Tomorrow’s Friday,” she counters. “Bell stays up late to watch Still Game wi’ me. Sure she wouldnae mind waitin’ an hour tae have a friend join us fer some stovies.” You can see Isobel in the car behind her, twisted around in her car seat to watch the two of you, and your heart lurches in your chest. Gnashes and snarls at the web of lies you’ve woven around it, glittering trip wires disguised as a safety net.

Don’t get too close. Don’t get attached. They’re not yours. This will never be your family.

‘Go!’ it wails, and her eyes beg you to stay.

When you finally find your footing again, you take a step towards your car. “I’ll think about it.” Move carefully between cracks in the ice. “See if I can get the meeting moved up. Isobel should keep to her schedule.” Keep your eyes up. Don’t look at the monster she’s dragged out of you.

Fenella nods like you’ve agreed. Either chooses to ignore your feeble attempt at a polite refusal or twists your words into reluctant acceptance as she fishes her phone from her vest. Hums as she taps away at the screen, and you feel the echo of it when your own phone vibrates in your pocket beside your keys.

“We’ll see ye tomorrow night, then.” She smiles, wide and machiavellian, before she severs the snare and watches you plummet. Slips into the warmth of her car as you plunge through the hole in the ice and it freezes over once more. Chum in the water.

Staring at Fenella’s address on your phone screen effects a sinking feeling in your stomach. Drags you down to that abyss again, only this time, you aren’t alone. You weren’t alone before—not really. You’d just denied the truth of what was clawing its way through your chest. Couldn’t face what its existence means.

You stare until the screen goes dark, and then stare some more, until the oven timer chimes and you wade through your kitchen to silence it. Produce a hot pad from an adjacent drawer to pull a cardboard tray of lasagne from the rack, and nearly drop it when the chiming starts again.

Your phone vibrates on the table behind you, Johnny’s name lit up across the screen. Calling.

‘Won’t be able to use my phone a lot, but I’ll call when I can.’

The awful thing in your chest shudders in answer.

Every muscle in your body tenses. Aches to open the line. Grab it with both hands and pull. Drag yourself from the depths of your self inflicted misery and bathe in the ardent warmth of his smile. You want to talk to him. Want to hear that gravel rich timbre and your name rolling off the escarpment of his tongue.

But should you?

Should you even try to be something you aren’t? Something you never thought you could be. Would want to be. Should you—?

“Bonnie? Ye there?”

Oh, fuck…

“Yeah… I’m here,” you breathe, and it’s not salt water but kerosene that fills your lungs. Burns with self-loathing and penitence as it commingles with ozone. “Johnny, I—” Your voice pitches, teeters on the precipice of trepidation and want, and crumbles away with the marl.

You’ve been ignoring him. Ignoring how you feel. Absconding yourself in your abnegation and rotting on the ocean floor, too afraid to swim. To look for the light. Afraid of falling even further.

And all of that want comes pouring out of you now. Out of the hole punched through your chest when he left. In a briny deluge down the berm of your cheeks when he shushes you. From puncture wounds, perfect impressions of serrated teeth, sunk to the bone. Not letting go.

“I know, sweet girl. I know,” he soothes, palliating and emollient, but the breath you take scrapes against your throat, coarse with sand and silt. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Johnny.” You thought it would hurt, admitting it. That the jaws would clamp down and you would scream and kick and fight. You were so heavy, full to the brim with want, that you mistook it for that leaden, sinking feeling. Thought it was drowning you.

“Bell said she saw ye today. That ye’re goin’ to visit her tomorrow?” There’s hope in his voice, nestled in the colluvium that tumbles from his lips and settles at your feet.

“Yeah,” you decide then and there. “I am.”

The MacTavish home isn’t what you thought it would be, limewashed stone tucked at the end of a winding, gravel lane, cradled by the tussock and sedge of a heathland and perched on the slope of a shallow vale. Double paned windows cast a genial glow onto the drifts around it, tenuous peaks capped in flakes of gold, and a scintillant lamp floods the walkway, salted cobble, free of the ice your tires struggled to navigate on the narrow streets of Old Kilpatrick. The door is a bathic blue, nearly the same depth as the lacuna between stars on a moonless night, and a boar-head knocker greets you, impeccably polished silver despite its exposure to the elements. Your hand halts halfway to the ring that dangles from gleaming ivory tusks and hangs surprised between yourself and the refulgent star across the threshold. Everything about Fenella and her home is bright.

She ushers you inside, pulling you by a handful of billowing cashmere into the foyer, and promptly defoliates you of the flailing garment and congruent scarf wound around your neck, taking your bag and hanging it from a brass hook beside your coat. “Bell, come an’ look who’s here!” she calls down the passageway, and a brontide reverberates through the hardwood and soles of your shoes. A storm rattling the foliage of a coppice in the thick of Summer.

Isobel shrieks, effusive in the manner of her excitement, when she rounds the corner from the doorway to the left and catches sight of you, teddy forgotten and swiftly discarded in favor of launching herself down the wide hall. You rock back when she connects with your leg, sinking her hands into layers of chiffon, pleated at your waist and cascading to the buckles of your flats around your ankles.

“Ye made it!” She wears a t-shirt many sizes too big, sleeves billowing around her and the hem rolled and tucked up inside with a knot that presses against your shin. The cracked, peeling numerals 141 are barely visible, on her left side just below her breastbone, and her surname is printed just below, peaks and plateau of the M and T rising above the cloud of your skirt bunched up in her arms. Her hair is loose, curls tumbling just over her shoulders in an unruly race to the wide crew-collar of her shirt, and the smile she beams up at you is blinding. Disorienting. Burrowing into your brain in search of a home. Looking for its carbon copy, etched in a memory of Johnny, sitting on a wooden chair in a kitchen that mirrors yours.

A timer chimes, echoing off smooth plaster painted with a whisper of green, sage and seafoam, and an eclectic collection of frames maps a rich family history from the front door down the length of the passageway,

“That’ll be dinner,” Fenella announces, a hand coming to rest between your shoulders and another delving into her granddaughter's curls. “Bell, show ‘er where tae wash up.” She herds you both forward, and your stomach knots with budding nerves.

“Can I help with anything? Setting the table?” you offer, attempt to make yourself useful, and she tuts her disapproval.

“Nae, jus’ wash up wi’ Bell. Dinner’ll be on the table when yer done.” She slips by the two of you, disappearing down the passageway and to the right while Isobel fits her hand into yours and leads you through the door she came from.

There’s a sideboard adjacent to the washroom, and while Isobel scrubs the days mire from her nails you cast your attention to the portraiture above it. Echoes of a convivial home, filled with family during the holidays, outings in the city, and school portraits. Johnny’s service portrait hangs front and center above a shadow box, pin board nearly full with brassy medals and gaudy ribbons. Years younger and clean shaven, he looks boyish and bright-eyed, even with the army drab and neutral expression. But there's a familiar tilt to his mouth, permanently skewed in an inveterate smile, and a whisper of laughter in the gentle slope of his shoulders, not yet filled out with the corded muscle that’s become so familiar. Several inches to the right and many years later, he appears as you know him now. Dark shadow of stubble, interrupted by the stitchwork that created the twisting scar on his chin, and—

The bulk of his body is curled around a young woman, dark cloud of curls concealing her face, buried in the hollow space beneath his jaw, but the swell of her belly is obvious in her profile. Isobel’s mum.

“Yer turn!” Isobel lilts from behind you, but you remain rooted to the polished hardwood, staring at a ghost, and wait for the rebuttal.

They aren’t yours. This isn’t your family.

Budding nerves blossom in the loamy pit of your stomach, creeping along spiculated vines towards the moldering gaps between your ribs, and your heart stutters in its crumbling cage alongside the starving, pacing creature you call want.

Forget them. Leave.

You wait, and wait, and wait—and it never comes. The ink doesn't wail, the frames don’t rattle, and there is no voice whispering over your shoulder.

There is a darling girl, tugging at the fabric of your skirt and the mess of snarled threads around your heart, picking apart the tangled web you’ve been lost in, and she guides you through the fray to the washroom basin.

“Ah spoke wi’ Johnny this morn’,” Fenella begins, reaching across the table to wipe at the broth dribbling down Isobel’s chin. “Said ye finally had a chance tae talk.”

“Oh. Yes, we did.” You don’t tell her how Johnny did most of the talking, took your sniveled apologies for avoiding his messages and buried them in the colluvium. Caught you, from a world away, and lowered you gently to the earth when you fell apart in your kitchen. “He sounds well.”

“Aye, he does. Havnae heard ‘im like that since Kirsten died.” She leans back in her chair, half-finished bowl of stew all but forgotten. “Those two… och, they were a right pain in my arse. Where one went the other followed, an’ made twice the trouble for their Mam.”

The revelation glues to your brain, tenebrous and viscid.

“Has he told ye about ‘er, his sister?”

“She saw the picture in the passageway,” Isobel chimes in, babbling around a mouthful of roast potato.

Their Mam. The picture in the hall. Johnny’s sister. The ghost next door.

“He’s mentioned her once before.” You drag your spoon through cooling beef and potato, breaking up the congealed, starchy mass, and try to do the same with the memories that tangle themselves together in your head. “He told me about his wife; that she passed two years ago. I— He never said his sister passed as well. I’m so—”

“His wife?” Quicksilver brows fly towards the inky peak of her hairline, bewilderment etched in the incredulous slash of her mouth, lips drawn tight. “Johnny’s ne’er wed, lass.”

Your hand stills but your heart rattles, throwing itself against baleen bars, and the pinpricks of teeth, gnawing at the fallstreak hole in your sternum, threatens to crack your ribs open at the dinner table. “Isobel’s mother—”

“Is his sister,” Fenella finishes for you.

“Then, Johnny… Why didn’t Isobel’s father raise her?”

Fenella casts a furtive glance in Isobels direction and finds cordierite eyes staring back at her over an empty bowl, gleaming with a startling discernment. “Stay here,” she motions towards you, and plucks Isobel from the chair between you, balancing her on a broad hip. “All done, Bell? Let’s get ye settled in the den, hm? With Ghost?” Isobel clutches at her shirt for balance, dips her chin in agreement, and Fenella takes her from the dining room, leaving you alone with the savage things in your chest.

Sister. Never married. Niece.

It percolates through gray matter. Drips from the roof of your mouth, nauseating and saccharine, and when you swallow you feel the drop in your stomach like an iron weight. Wilted petals and desiccated vines withering. A febrile joy laced with bile bubbling up your throat; sickly cocktail of absolution and compunction.

There was never a ghost trapped in a picture frame. No headstone inscribed with the MacTavish name and the words ‘Loving Wife and Mother.’ Every poisonous word whispered in your ear came from the devil on your shoulder, sowing demurral and rooting it in reproval, and the roaring in your chest, thundering pulse in your ears, screams yes.

The muted playing of fanfare from the TV cuts through the cacophony in your head, and Fenella’s voice allays the discordance. “She knows more than she lets on.” A sigh filters through her nose with a ‘hum’ and she slides into the chair Isobel occupied previously. “She misses him. Misses him like a wean misses their Da.” Misses him the same as her Mum. Gone somewhere she can’t follow, a place kept secret from her, with no way to know when he’ll be back. If he’ll come back.

The unpleasant realization of that very real possibility scrapes down your spine, whetted talons screeching against corrugated bone.

“Johnny’s the closest thing Bell’s ever had tae a Da,” she elucidates. “They used tae work together, ‘fore Johnny joined up wi’ the Task Force. Passed selection the same year.”

“She—Kirsten—met him through Johnny?” She nods, smiling, but the curve of her mouth has a mournful edge.

“She did. Johnny brought some lads round for Hogmanay one year. Took his sister out wi’ ‘em tae the pubs. Said she took one look at Aaron MacAndrew handin’ ‘er brother his own arse at darts and knew she’d marry ‘im. Did so, the following year. Hardly made it another ‘fore she told us she was havin’ Bell.” The memory of her daughter brightens Fenella’s eyes. Bottled lightning, bouncing off maldivian blue glass. “We were all excited. ‘Specially Johnny; couldnae wait tae meet his niece. Brought home gifts for Kirsten and the wean from every tour and couldnae go to ASDA wi’out buyin’ another teddy or romper.”

“Did Johnny and Aaron tour together?” She nods solemnly.

“Few weeks after Kirsten had Bell they left. Got their orders a month earlier, an’ Aaron… He didnae let Johnny tell Kirstin ‘til after she had the wean. Didnae want her tae stress.

“They were tae be gone three months, so Kirsten stayed here an’ I helped wi’ Bell. Went a while ‘fore we heard anythin’ from Johnny. Said things got hairy. Had tae go dark. Stay hidden. We didnae know why ‘til he called again an’ said he was comin’ home early, but naw Aaron. Naw ‘til he was the only one tae come off the plane.”

Laughter trickles in from the den, pooling in the hollow silence that yawns between you and Fenella. “I…” you try, but every word you string together with the next frays around the knot in your throat.

“She was angry wi’ him for some time. Aaron had died weeks before he called, an’ he kept it from ‘er. Didnae want tae tell her on the phone. Wanted tae be there when she found out.” She shifts her weight in the chair. Leans forward to fold one arm over the other on the table. “Johnny took it hard, too. Losin’ his mate an’ then his sister. None of us saw her for the better part of a year after he died, an’ Johnny took the blame for it. She wouldnae see him. Didnae come ‘round for holidays. He thought if he made ‘imself scarce she might come out her shell, so when he heard from a Captain he used tae serve under, ‘bout the Task Force an’ the longer assignments that came wi’ it… He packed ‘imself up an’ off he went. Was another year ‘fore they finally saw one another. Never knew what was said between the two of ‘em, but they were close as ever afterwards. Right up ‘til she passed.”

“And she listed Johnny as Isobel's next of kin.” Fenella nods, bottled lightning limned with a silvery tide. “I… I’m so sorry. About Kirsten, Aaron, bringing it up— I shouldn’t—”

Despite the tears tracking down her cheeks, Fenella shakes her head. Smiles, and reaches across the table to clasp your hand in hers. “Ye dinna need tae apologize, lass. I should be thankin’ ye, really.” You try to pull away but her hand tightens around yours.

“Thank me? I haven’t—”

“Done anythin’? Lass, ye’ve done more than ye know. He talks about ye. Every time we go tae lunch. It’s ye, an’ Bell, an’ how excited she always is tae see ye. How he thinks she might fancy ye even more than he does. And he smiles. You brought that back.”

And fuck, if that isn’t everything you hoped for. To know that he smiles for you. Because of you. It alchemizes the iron in your stomach to lead, bathed in acid and leeching an acrimonious guilt into your bloodstream.

You ignored him.

Pulled away, just like his sister did.

And Fenella is thanking you.

Midnight settles over the MacTavish home in a mantle of crushed velvet and embroidered stars. Fenella insisted that you stay after dinner. Spend some time with Isobel in the den.

That was several hours ago.

Curled in the corner of a chenille couch, you sit with Isobel pressed to your side, head pillowed by the masked bear she clutches in her sleep.

“Someone’s finally tuckered out,” you muse, brushing an errant curl away from her face. “I should head home. Let the two of you rest.” Fenella stands from her chair beside the couch and maneuvers around the coffee table in the dim light of the TV.

“It’s late,” she rebukes. “I’ll naw have ye out at this hour. Stay the night. Ye can take yer rest in Johnny’s old room.” Fenella croons as she peels Isobel out of her cocoon of blankets and hoists her up into the cradle of her arms. “C’mon Bell, let’s show the lass where she’s stayin’ the night.”

“The roads really aren’t that bad, I— I should be able to make the drive just fine,” you insist, but the admonition in the gaze she levels you with quashes any further argument.

You follow, albeit hesitantly, from the den up a narrow flight of stairs, and hope that she can’t hear the tremulous rattling of your breath behind her. She deposits Isobel, teddy and all, in a colorful room, shelves overflowing with picture books and bins piled high with teddies and toys, tucks her snug beneath a hand-sewn quilt and leaves her with a peck on the cheek to guide you into the room across from hers.

She rifles through a chest of drawers, scratched pine and chipped lacquer, stood up against the wall opposite a wrought iron bed, draped in purples and greens that bring thistle to mind. “Ye can wear some of Johnny’s old things. I’d give ye somethin’ of mine but, well… I think ye’d be more comfortable in this.” Tracksuit bottoms and a pullover. She leaves it on the bed as she moves to where you hover near the doorway. “Washroom is just down there, on the right,” she directs, pointing to the far end of the hall. “An’ I’m just across the way if ye need anythin’. See ye at breakfast.”

With you and Isobel settled in your respective rooms, she ambles off to her own, door clicking shut softly behind her, and you’re left staring at Johnny’s clothes. On Johnny’s bed. In the bedroom where he grew up. Wondering how—if at all—you’ll be able to sleep tonight.

©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

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messrmoonyy · 2 months

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-What they’re like as your bf/gf (Hcs) 18+

Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Sadie Adler, Molly O’Shea

Request- Hi if it’s okay could I ask for some hcs of some of the gang and what they’re like dating with you? NSFW ones toooo🙈🙊 could you include Arthur, John, Dutch, Sadie, Javier and maybe any of the other girls Mary-Beth or Molly or Karen? Thank you 🙏🏻

A/N- I didn’t include Javier cause I like barely speak with him in camp or anything idk I don’t vibe with Javier tbh. And I saw my chance to word vomit my Molly brain rot and ran with it so she’s the girl I picked. Hope this is okay! Enjoy :)

Masterlist - requests are open :)

Arthur Morgan

- We’ve all seen how he was with Mary. He’d be besotted with you

- His journal would be filled with sketches of you, entries talking about how much he adores you, little notes about how you looked that day or musings about his plans for your future together.

- Definitely doodles a little heart with your initials too <3

- He’s touch starved. So he loves physical contact. A hand to your knee, your back, arm around your shoulders or your waist. He likes keeping you close.

- Brings you stuff from his little travels. Picks flowers for you, finds little trinkets for you.

- Keeps a picture of you by his bed.

- Forehead kisses!!!!!

- Kisses your hand. And kisses to your wrist. He loves when you reach up to cup his face and he can turn to press his lips against your wrist.

- He’s so much more than a tough, burly cowboy. He’s quiet, caring, considerate. And he adores you

NSFW

- takes his time. Likes to work at you until not a single tense muscle is left in your body. Worships you.

- Loves any positions where he can see your face, needs to be close enough to constantly kiss you and tell you how good you are for him

- “ there’s my girl, doin so good for me darlin “ “ jus’ like that darlin, let me take good care of ya “

- Not incredibly vocal, but the noises he does make he ensures are right by your ear.

- Refuses to finish before you ever.

- Loves to finish inside tho. He knows it’s risky, but he loves the closeness. And if he’s feeling particularly risky he’ll definitely push his come back into you with his fingers “ don’t waste it now “

- Grips The headboard.

John Marston

- he’s stupid. He really is. He’ll be head over heels for you, with you clearly reciprocating those feelings and he’d still think you didn’t like him like that.

- Like. You could kiss him and he’d still be like ‘ what are we? ‘

- When he does finally put two and two together he’ll have no shame or cautions in showing you off.

- He’s handsy. Likes coming up behind you when you’re washing dishes for Pearson to rub at your shoulders.

- Or pull you down to sit on his lap before you can even think about taking the empty spot on the log next to him by the fire.

- Overprotective. One tiny snide comment from anyone and he’s ready to start swinging.

- Definitely knows how to push your buttons and wind you up, and will do it just for fun and to get a rise outta you.

- And then spend the rest of day grovelling and apologising.

NSFW

- Loves going down on you. Like. Loves it. The man could spend hours there if you’d let him and Lord has he tried.

- Not very serious most of the time.

- Pretty vocal. And doesn’t really care if anyone’s listening either.

- Like i said, he’s handsy. His hands are restless and will grab at whatever part of you they can.

- Loves when you ride him and has absolutely made a cowgirl joke more than once.

- Will grab at your hips and guide your movements as you do. Told you he’s handsy.

- But also isn’t opposed to you on your back, legs over his shoulders. Presses kisses to your ankles and makes jokes about how good the view is.

Dutch Van Der Linde

- he’s not the most attentive of people at times. He’s constantly in his head and constantly thinking about things that aren’t you.

- But when he does allow himself time alone with you he is disgustingly charming.

- He always knows what to say, always knows the right words to have you melting into a puddle at his feet. You could be in the worst mood with him but a few whispers in your ear and it’s all forgotten.

- Has a million terms of endearment for you. My angel, my dear , my darling. He rarely ever uses your actual name, only when he’s mad.

- Loves to give you gifts, the more expensive the better. And he likes you to show them off too. He likes to show you off.

- Reads to you a lot.

- PDA is afraid of him. He doesn’t care where he is or who’s watching him, he’ll loop an arm around your waist to kiss your neck, pull you onto his lap when he’s reading beside his tent and kiss you. No shame.

NSFW

- will take his time with you but in a far different way to, say, Arthur

- He’ll edge you and overstimulate you for hours, because be gets off on the fact that you simply let him. That you obey his every command.

- Degrading and humiliating 🤝🏻 Dutch Van Der Linde

- He’s never too mean. And his degrading comments are more often than not laced with something sweet.

- Dacryphilic. 100000%. He loves watching you cry because he’s worked you into such an overstimulated mess.

- He’ll swipe your tears away or kiss them from your cheeks “ well isn’t that just a pretty sight? “ “ those tears for me, my angel? “

- Definitely has some kind of authority kink. Likes you calling him sir for sure.

- Loves you giving him head. Just loves you on your knees. It’s a power thing. And he’s a cocky son of a bitch.

- Sat back in his chair and won’t lift a damn finger to help you out, won’t even unbuckle his belt. And don’t tell me he doesn’t smoke whilst he watches you.

Sadie Adler

- She is absolutely not shy about her feelings when she finally accepts she has them.

- Shes just so sweet to you.

- Around camp she’s stuck to you like glue. Her arm is permanently around your waist or your shoulders, or her hand laced with yours and is ready to snap at any intrusive questions from anyone else about it at the drop of a hat

- Love language is gift giving. Just taken in a bounty but found a shiny lil necklace in his pocket? Well. It’s hers now. Or should I say, yours.

- If your hairs long enough she’ll braid it like hers, any excuse to be able to sit close to you and whisper sweet things in your ear.

- Would teach you how to shoot better, she wants to make sure you know how to defend yourself. but also wants the excuse to stand behind you and show you how to hold her rifle properly.

- Big spoon.

NSFW

- Sadie’s gained control over literally everything else in life, and it doesn’t change in the bedroom

- She trusts you whole heartedly but she’s not about to give up any sort of control to you for a While

- Makes sure she can see your face at all times, loves watching your face contort and relax in pleasure that she’s giving you

- Full of praise “ ain’t you just the prettiest thing? “ “ oh look at you! D’ya know how pretty you look from here? “ “ always such a good girl for me “

- Has a thing for putting her fingers in your mouth. Especially after she’s just fucked you with them.

- Having you on your knees eating her out drives her crazy. Will pull at your hair a little too hard but will soothe the sting with a thousand words of praise about how good you make her feel.

- And now hear me out. Loves to watch you. Will book you a hotel room together just so she can sit across the room and watch you touch yourself for her, encouraging you the entire time

- It’s never long before she absolutely has to have her hands on you though in the end.

Molly O’Shea

- sheeeee has some trust issues. And abandonment issues. She’s just… she’s a lot at times.

- But she is fiercely loyal and will love you with every fibre of her being

- And she wants to be loved as fiercely in return. She’ll spiral without constant reassurance “ d’you even love me anymore? “ “did I do somethin wrong? Haven’t told me you love me today “

- She knows deep down you do love her. She’s just afraid.

- She is such a romantic. She loves holding your hand, sitting close to you, doing your makeup like hers and stealing kisses in between painting your lips red

- She’ll write you sappy romantic poetry and leave you lil notes

- You’ll often overhear her gushing to other people about how in love she is too. She just loves to talk about you and how deeply she adores you.

- Likes when you give her forehead kisses.

NSFW

- Pillow princess. End of story.

- She’s not completely submissive though. She’ll tell you what she wants and what she likes

- She just wants to be taken care of okay. She needs to be taken care of.

- Makes the softest, sweetest sounds and will tell you she loves you a million times over.

- Enjoys when things just… naturally happen. Cuddling with you at night, but pushing her hips lightly back against you. Which usually ends with your hand slipping past her waistband and making her come on your fingers.

- Likes to be on top of you sometimes, simply so she can show off whilst she strips. Not to really do anything. Shes really not that much of a giver. She likes being watched. She likes to know she’s desired. And usually it ends up with you dragging her to sit on your face.

- You have to shower her with praise. She wants to know she looks beautiful, that she’s doing well, worship her. Which is incredibly easy for you cause like fucking look at her she’s gorgeous.

- Wraps herself around you when you cuddle after, legs intertwined and arms around you, head buried in your chest or neck. Pls my sweet baby needs to be held.

682 notes · View notes

superhoeva · 3 months

Text

𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 – 𝐜. 𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨 (𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝟏𝟖+ ; 𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞) | not technically in the bunny and the bear (because i don't think bear can tase bunny like this and not lose his mind), but feel free to think of it as such! whatever makes you happy <3

carmen knows exactly what he’s doing. the way he bites his bottom lip to hide his smirk tells you that much.

“ah, look at these tears,” he coos, thumbing at the tears that escape your watery eyes. “my pretty girl. really want it that bad, huh?”

skin hot and damp with a collecting sheen, you twist away from the man. he’s relentless, teetering you on the edge of the white-hot pleasure with a pitying kiss. you clench around nothing, clit jumping when carmen rubs his swollen head over the pulsing bud.

“fuck, bear. please.” your plead sounds pathetic, but the all-consuming desire for him to finally gift you what you so badly need is all you care about. he shushes you quietly, sucking in a hiss of air at the grip he squeezes around his dick. with a heavy breath, carmen plants another wet kiss on the bottom of your chin.

a thick groan punches out of him when he glides himself against you, member shining and slick with your juices.

“jesus, you’re wet,” he mumbles against you. “drippin’ all over me. fuckin’ soaking my dick, haven’t even stuck it in yet.”

you whimper at his words, more tears pooling to fall from your eyes. carmen brushes them away once more, feeling his resistance dwindle closer and closer to nothing. god, the sounds your pussy makes when teases his head against the entrance. coating the tip in the sticky sap you’re leaking out, tightening around nothing with wet squelches.

“doing so good for me, you know that?” carmen whispers against your lips, and you nearly black out when you finally feel it. he studies you, eyes hooded, at the way you suck in a choked inhale as he sinks inside you.

carmen stops breathing at the feeling, enamored with the way your eyes roll and head throws back. he feels your body begin to tremble, his hips just barely meeting against yours as you let out a wail.

“fuck. can’t hold it, carm,” you warn him, hands gripping whatever part of him you can. the chef can only watch as your face pinches, body quivering with a vigor that would make him worried if not for the words spilling out of your mouth.

his eyes widen, gazing with a lustful wonder as you cum before you can stop yourself.

“shit, yeah. there we go,” carmen rasps out, hips starting to grind himself in and out of you. working you through it while you squeeze and whine and leak around him. your words make out to nothing, an incoherent strand of mumbles only broken by hiccups and slight chokes.

you grow louder as carmen continues to thrust, soon coming to match your volume in his groans at the way his own orgasm creeps closer and closer.

“keep cummin’ around me, baby. fuck, don’t stop, feels so good. doin’ so good for me, lettin’ me fuck you like this, gonna take all my cum while you give me yours.”

your chest heaves as you do just that–keep cuming–bed jerking into the wall behind as carmen increases his speed. your weak and shaking legs find a way to wrap around the back of him, hand reaching for carmen’s cheeks as he lets out a cry.

he’s pounding into you now. both of your bodies jerking together, you feel carmen’s balls smack lightly against you. it’s almost too much. not just the overwhelming ache as he slides in and out of you, but him. his chain danging just between the two of you. a few of his curls, lost and away from the others, bouncing against his forehead. the absolutely filthy words that pour out of him with every flick of his waist.

“pussy’s so fuckin' good, creamin’ all over me. look so pretty like this, shit,” carmen interrupts himself with a surprised whine and a sniff. “love being inside’a you, fuckin’ love it. got you dripping, can feel it leaking down my balls, too. fuck.”

the only thing you can respond with is a broken moan as carmen pulls you closer, something he always does when he’s right there. his hands scramble and plant against you with panicked haste, gripping at your slick skin as he shoots the first string of cum inside you.

you hold him close, arms looped around his neck, as he pumps you full. carmen is all sputtering hips and muddled moans you can’t make out. it goes on for a while, him twitching inside of you and unable to fully open his eyes.

lips finding yours again, he kisses the both of you back to reality. it’s all deep and grounding, his hand reaching to grab at your jaw. his tongue glazes across yours one last time before he pulls away with a glint in his eye.

the softest of laughs bubbles up out of your limp body.

“don’t pull out yet, okay?” you mumble, voice thick with exhaustion, moving some of the hair from carmen’s forehead. “feels nice.”

carmen grins sleepily, pressing another kiss into the corner of your lips. “‘whatever you want, pretty girl.”

#carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #the bear

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serevena · 10 months

Note

Hii!! i literally love your work so muchhh

I was wondering if you would write Ellie and an inexperienced reader? (not necessarily innocent but just doesn't know how to do much in the bedroom) if not thats fine, love youu <3

Into It.

Pairing - Ellie Williams x Inexperienced!reader

a.n - thank u so much lovely, ilysb! Enjoy <3

Warnings - Provocative language, graphic depictions of lesbian sex, Gentle!Ellie, inexperienced!reader, implied (?) loss of virginity, strap is referred to as her ‘dick’ and ‘cock’, use of the name ‘sweet’, established relationship, hand humping, this is so rushed and sloppy, a lil aftercare, readers a bit of a masochist, smut, finger sucking, mentions of bodily fluids (spit, cum), top!Ellie, bottom!reader, use of a strap-on, fingering (e!receiving), not proofread! Reblogs, likes, & comments are appreciated! <3

Sex hadn’t really been something you and Ellie discussed. She figured since it hadn’t been brought up, you just weren’t ready.

Oh, but you were.

You were so ready. The constant manspreading she did, every mannerism, every little movement she made had you aching for her. But there was one problem.

You had no idea what to do. You weren’t stupid, you’d masturbated plenty of times, and you knew what sex was (props to the girls kissing YouTube videos from middle school) that taught you how to kiss, but you hadn’t been intimate with another person like that.

So Ellie laid there, her calloused hand caressing your arm as you laid in her chest. You tried to ignore the throbbing heat between your legs, but your constant shifting didn’t do you any Justice, and it’s something she quickly picked up on, but didn’t think too deeply about.

But when she noticed just how much you were moving, she had to speak up, voicing her concern.

“Babe..you okay?” to which you could only nod, looking up at her.

You weren’t sure what the hell had happened. Your hand wrapped around her wrist as you humped against her hand, her brows furrowing. It had all happened so fast. Her breath hitched in her throat as she mumbled a faint “damn..”under her breath.

You were in the clear. You didn’t have to do much but rock your hips and hold her hand in place. That wasn’t so hard, right?

“Turn around for me.” Ellie bluntly said, in which you almost immediately obliged, turning around to look her in the eyes. She gave you a smile, guiding your hand to her boxers.

“This your first time?” She questioned, watching as your hand hooked around the band of her underwear. You nodded again. “Words.”

“Yeah— yes.” you mumbled, and she nodded at your words, lifting her hips up as she signaled you to pull her boxers down, which you did. When you got them off, she gave you a soft look, which was hard to focus on when her gaze was dark and her eyes were half lidded, but you knew she’d take care of you and there was nothing to be worried about.

Ellie let out a shaky breath when yours hit her cunt, her hips jerking faintly. She stared at you, licking her lips as she put one of her hands behind her head. You looked up at her as she caressed your cheeks, tilting her head. Just follow what they did in the videos..

She noticed your hesitation, and her gaze immediately softened once more. “We don’t have to—” “I want to.”

Your finger found Ellie’s hole, not even needing lube or spit considering how wet she was already. You shoved your finger inside her, letting out a sigh from the feeling. “Oh..fuck.” She groaned out, looking at your face before looking down at her cunt. She faintly told you to speed up, which you did with little to no hesitation.

Follow the videos, follow the videos..

Ellie let out something of a squeal when she felt the second finger slip passed her dripping hole. “Fuck, sweet..doin’ so well..” you had no idea what you were doing,, did it even feel good for her or was she just faking it? Ellie mumbled something incoherent, before repeating herself.

“You feel that..squishy part?..curl your fingers right there..” she said, with a faint whine at the end. You did as she said, thrusting your fingers in and out slowly before curling your fingers. Ellie jolted up at that feeling, her eyes rolling back as she tugged at your hair. “Fuck! Fuck..”

Ellie’s face was flushed, her brows contorting over and over again, her chapped lips parted as beads of sweat rolled down her forehead. She wasn’t faking this. And that fueled your confidence.

You just kept going, and going, and going— “fuck! Fuck! I’m cumming!-” Ellie yelled out, her body shaking as you could only stare at her, slowing your pace but not stopping until she physically had to pull your hand away to avoid overstimulation.

You pulled your coated fingers out of her hole, not really knowing what to do with it. That was until Ellie gripped your wrist, bringing your fingers to her mouth and sucking on them like her life depended on it. Your lips parted as you let out a shaky breath, staring into her glossy eyes before she removed your fingers to kiss your lips.

“You did so good..‘think you deserve a little reward.” She mumbled against your lips, and again, in the blink of an eye, she was on top of you, your underwear on the floor as she tugged at the harness around her waist to make sure it wouldn’t come off. You stared down at it, nervousness evident in your expression as Ellie made you look back up at her.

“Don’t worry, sweet..I got you, ‘kay?” She said softly. “Okay.” You simply responded before she so effortlessly spit on her dick, acting like it was the most normal thing in the world. Your entire body got hot the second she did that. What the fuck.

Ellie looked at you again, brows slightly frowned. “Lemme know if I need to stop, ‘kay? Just say the word.” And you could only nod, biting down on your lip. Ellie put the tip of her cock inside of you, watching your reaction closely. It hurt, but you endured it, because you wanted this.

She thrusted softly, putting her hand on the mattress next to your head before slowly pushing more of the silicone inside of you, watching how it disappeared. You covered your mouth, tears welling up in your eyes from the newfound pleasure but the mix of pain as well. It was perfect. Ellie slowly but surely lost her composure, pushing more, and more, and more, rubbing your clit as she continuously thrusted into you.

“Fuck..takin’ me so well..” the endless praise Ellie gave you was enough to cause you to let out moan, after moan, after moan. Ellie stared at your face intently, barely able to say anything from how deep in a trance she was. She’d never seen you like this..this was new. And she couldn’t help but pray to whatever god was out there that this wouldn’t be the last time she’d have you like this.

The disgusting noises your cunt was making bounced off the walls, and was music to Ellie’s ears. She kissed at your chest and neck, grabbing your hands to pin them above your head and interlocking your fingers together. “‘That feel good?..” she said, practically out of breath. And you nodded, letting out a faint “yes..” in between moans and baited breaths.

She couldn’t stop, she wouldn’t stop unless you told her to, or unless she made you cum. And by the look on your face and the sounds you were making, you were bound to cum in just a few minutes—

“Ellie..I’m—i’m cumming..’m cumming..” you mumbled along with other incoherent words, and Ellie could only kiss you, moaning into your mouth before pulling away to nod. “Cum for me, sweet..cmon..”

She practically called it. Because when she was done speaking, you felt the knot inside of your stomach snap, your body shaking just like Ellie’s earlier as your moans became louder and more frequent.

A few more thrusts, kisses, and praises left Ellie before she pulled out, leaving you on the bed, breathless and sweaty. She came back a few minutes later, not with a rag, not with anything but a glass of water. She helped you sit up, your back against the headboard before she kissed your forehead, handing you the glass. You let out a relieved sigh—more like a moan at the cold water, closing your eyes. You guess that’s why you didn’t notice Ellie was laying in front of you, parting your legs. Your brows raised before you looked down at her. Ellie smirked,

“Gotta clean up, don’t I?”

My lovelies <3 @mousymaven @redmpticn @gold-dustwomxn @gossip-grape @machetegirl109 @urmommyluvr @robinismywifee @wiggle-w0rm @h3avenfloo @elliewilliamsisgay @lovejuliettq @bugaboodarling @sadeyedsugar @sapphicxprincess @thatonementallyillsimp

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sugucidal · 11 months

Text

# HOW TO SEDUCE YOUR NEIGHBOR 101 !!

CHAPTER i. [3k words]

୨୧‬┊pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! reader

୨୧‬┊synopsis: with winter break having rolled around the corner, you’ve decided to spend it with your family back at home. it felt nice being back after 2 years away at university. you just wish your mom had told you that a certain guest was visiting. one that you hadn’t expected to ever have to face again.

୨୧‬┊warnings: fluff! + age gap (reader is 19 and toji is 34) + taboo content (cause what’re u doin tryna get tojis middle aged ass in ur bed smh) + slice of life kind of (??) + suggestiveness + humor + reader is in her winter bimbo era + toji is…toji. + no smut yet sorryy + slight slowburn + everything is legal! no ones going to jail!

୨୧‬┊a/n: first chapter woohooo !!! second chapter will finally be coming out on [redacted] <3

‪MAIN POST | part i. > part ii. > part iii.

Tugging at the sleeves of your jacket further down your hands, you let out an exhale, nerves set ablaze. The typical cool spring air was colder than usual this particular night out, sun having already set and moon shining up into the dark, starry sky.

Fiddling with the hem of your mini skirt, you gazed up, doe eyes glinting heatedly up at the man you've harbored adoration towards.

You were finally gonna confess.

"I want you."

The simple words that held so much weight filled the space between you both.

A sigh in response. Oh no. You already knew what was coming, but you hoped to any deity or god from above that it wouldn't turn out this way.

"Kid, you're way too young for me." The smoke blowing past his lips wafted through the stiff air, his scar pulling at the corner of his mouth in dismay. "If you were older maybe I'd consider it. Wouldn't bet on it though, since you're such a pain in the ass to deal with."

You let his words hang momentarily, trying to come up with a sufficient rebuttal. You knew he was only playing when he said you were a pain to deal with but it still stung your heart to hear it coming from him. But you weren't gonna give up that easily. You've had a crush on this man ever since he moved into the neighborhood years ago!

What started out as innocent puppy love slowly built its way into this desire, stemmed deep at the heart the older you got. You'd watch as he invited women into his home late into the hours of the night, clinging onto him like a leech in a body of lakewater. God, how you wish it was you he'd have brought into his home on those late nights. Lustfully gazing down at you with promises of this being the best you'll ever have, one you'd be thinking back on until the day you die.

He knew exactly just how much you craved for his touch. It wasn't hard to see that he felt the same, you could see it in the way he'd glance in your direction whenever you purposely wore something revealing, hoping to catch his eye. He told you that you shouldn't wear things like that at your age around men, that they were dangerous, intentions impure. As if he wasn't one of those men he was warning you about. But despite it all, he always looked the other way. Kept a boundary of barbed wire up, no way of climbing through. Frankly, it was annoying.

You hate when people play hard to get.

"So...you mean once I'm 18, you'll take up my offer?" If he couldn't get with you because you were 'too young' then surely he'd concede if you were legally an adult...right?

"Not exactly what I said, but sure," Taking one last final drag of his cigar, he stomped it out onto the pavement, sharp eyes gazing at you discerningly one last time before turning the other way.

"Whatever gets you off my case."

That was the last time you spoke with Toji and almost 2 years have gone by since then. The rejection after the confession hurt no doubt, but the avoidance of Toji towards you afterwards, hurt like salt to a fresh wound.

You rarely saw him after that, suddenly out for weeks to months at a time for work. Sometimes he'd come by when he was free and have idle chats with your parents any time they saw him down the neighborhood. Not bothering to spare a polite greeting or glance in your direction whenever you were present. What used to be a strong bond between family friend and their doting daughter, having met him at an early age, quickly turned awkward and tense, distance overtaking whatever there once was.

You regret talking to him that night every single day.

Unfortunately, you couldn't bring back the past and fix your fuck up. On the other hand, the days of being immature and bratty were long gone. Having been replaced by someone more mature and less dense.

Living off pre-packaged noodles and staying up till 6 am finishing up assignments for your university classes due the next hour, does that to a person you suppose.

Now with winter break finally having rolled around the corner, you were able to get that good night's sleep your exhausted ass had been craving for. And the home cooked meals your mother had waiting for you was certainly appreciated as well.

Lugging your bags up the front steps to your parents' quaint home, you took a quick look at the classic 'welcome home' mat under your feet that you were sure still hid a key underneath. Lifting the corner of the mat your suspicions were confirmed.

You'd think they'd realize how unsafe this could be one of these days.

Before you could place the key through the silver lock, you were instead met with the distinct sound of hard, oak wood doors being unlocked and swung open.

"Baby, you're finally home! Get in quickly, come on now." Your mother hastily ushered you in, calling over your father to help carry your bags further inside the warmth of your home. The key you held was quickly dropped on the small table near the entrance, and the door kicked shut. The signature smell of a vanilla sugar cookie candle being burnt filled your nostrils, the rest wafting through the air. Anyone would think your family baked with the way they always seem to choose that particular scent regardless of season or weather. Further glancing around, you watched your family's pet cat prance towards you, its furry face wide eyed and complaining to be held. You swear he acted like a dog sometimes.

Guess some things never change.

You just hoped that would've stayed true for a certain someone.

Before you had any more time to dwell on it, you were taken out of your thoughts by the mention of the name you had barely begun to ponder over.

'Speak of the devil', you sighed.

Walking over to the living area, you followed your father picking up your cat on the way, butting in, "Hm? what was that?"

"You remember Toji right?" Nodding your head, your father continued. "We invited him over for dinner tonight."

You paused in your step. "What? Why?" The confusion in your voice was surely noticed. You couldn't exactly say you were unhappy, hell you felt giddy at just the mention of his name, but you were still hung up on the past and weren't ready to face the man that blew off your poor naive, little heart. If you saw his handsome face in person again that's been embarrassingly haunting your dazed mind whenever you're busy writhing and whining atop your soft, cozy sheets—at that dinner table, you might just take the 2 hour car ride back to campus dorms.

You were just a pussy like that. One that couldn't face the culprit of those lingering feelings that had never ceased to falter throughout the years, dead in the eye.

The two quietly glanced at each other at your sudden change in demeanor, eyebrows raised. Before he could continue your mom piped up first, "What do you mean by 'why'? You haven't seen each other in so long. He misses you and I'm sure you two would like to catch up."

"Misses you" You swear your heart might've actually stopped beating. In what world would Toji Fushiguro have missed their friends young daughter after being told straight to their face that they wanted him to fuck her.

"He..misses me?" It sounded a little unbelievable saying it outloud.

"Mhm, after you left for University he asked about you a couple times, wondering when you'd be back to visit," Turning around to walk into the kitchen to get started on dinner, she smiled over her shoulder at you once more, "You must've really left an impression on him."

Nervously laughing you settled your cat down, watching him stride over to sip some water from his bowl.

"Yeah..quite some impression alright."

- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -

Okay. Okay it's fine. Yeah you haven't seen him in years but it's fine! He's just coming over for dinner. You'll greet him with a friendly smile, he'll ask how you've been- or shit, maybe he won't. Maybe he'll just ignore you again like he's already done. Toji mentioning to your parents that he misses you was probably just a misunderstanding and he meant to say the weather has been misty- yeah. Totally plausible.

"What the hell am I doing.." Taking a once-over to look yourself in the mirror, you just finished applying the finishing touches to your makeup, wiping off any excess gloss at the corner of your lips with a q-tip for a sharp finish. Was the gloss necessary given the fact that it was going to be smudged off during dinner anyway?

The answer was yes. Yes It was.

Just because you were having a small dinner that was probably gonna be awkward as hell with a man you've been wanting- didn't want to see, shouldn't mean you couldn't at least look cute.

A sudden faint sound of muffled talking took you out your inner monologue. Putting away your array of makeup displayed on the varnished wood countertop of your vanity, you walked over to the door pressing an ear against it trying to discern what was being said.

'Hm sounds like there's someone else down there..' quietly poking a head out into the hallway you just barely made out a deep yet familiar voice before quickly being startled by your mother calling out your name.

"Hon, come down and greet Toji!"

Fuck. "C–Coming!" straightening up, you calmed your blazing nerves, mentally preparing yourself for the onslaught of awkward tension that your parents luckily knew nothing of. Bless their complete oblivion.

Walking out into the hallway and down the stairs your eyes immediately locked onto Tojis, gaze shyly looking away and focusing onto nothing in particular. You were better off staring at something near him than at him directly.

Approaching towards where they stood, you tried your best to look as confident as possible. You're a woman now. Not some doe. At least that's what you feel like telling yourself at this moment, as you pick at your nails. Standing straighter, you stood next to your parents, watching as they finished up their talk.

You haven't had a proper conversation with Toji since, well...that night. Not counting the usual greetings you had exchanged with him in the past when you saw each other after. If you could even call it that. If a glance of bare acknowledgement was considered a greeting, then sure. Yet here you were right in front of him, determined to set things right. You had to confront him, it was the only way you'd be able to heal the wound of the past and maybe, even let go.

But first, you'll have to actually talk to him.

Deciding to finally look up at Toji, you were able to make out his features more clearly. He hadn't changed much since you last saw him, still very much tall, and his ever so brooding presence never waned. His jaw was somehow even more defined than before, and he was still rocking the same haircut as he always did.

If it ain't broke, don't fix it I guess.

Overall, he looked good. Better. The best. As he most likely always will be in your eyes.

And you're so lost in your own thoughts that you don't even notice Toji looking down at you in the corner of his eye, trying to hold back a smirk that's beginning to creep up. Silly you, ogling him so openly in front of your own parents. Not like they bothered to ever notice though.

Hearing the three of them laugh about something pulled you away from your stupor, and your attention was immediately latched onto Toji who was the first to speak.

Hopefully he didn't notice you being a creep.

"It's been a while, huh? You still remember me?" You know he's only teasing by asking if you still "remembered" him. The old you would've sassed him up for asking something silly like that, but you don't know if its a good idea to get ahead of yourself and start pulling on his leg this early on.

So you opt for the safest response.

With a polite smile on your lips, you shrugged your shoulders, "Of course. It hasn't been that long."

Toji stared at you for a moment. Shit. Did he not like that answer..?

Then you felt something warm come into contact with the top of your head; it was Toji's hand. Toji was petting you. Or more like ruffling your hair—same difference.

"You barely changed."

You exhaled a breath you didn't even know you were holding. A moment longer in silence and you don't think you'd be able to hold back the urge to run back up those stairs, slam the door shut behind you, and scream into your pillow.

Why were you so nervous!? You're never nervous when it comes to Toji.

'What's up with me??''

Regardless, you felt yourself being left annoyed at his comment. Disappointed that he probably still saw you as some kid despite not certainly looking or being one at all for that matter.

Too bad you didn't realize he meant it in a different way.

Even if you tried to hide it, Toji could still make out the way you held your hands behind your back, most likely fidgeting with your nails. Seems you've changed, the thought amusing him. The old you he knew would've pounced on him by now, batting your lashes, staring up starry eyed thinking you were being discreet about it.

Nothing gets past him, especially not when you make it so obvious. One thing that hasn't changed though, are the clothes you seemed to purposely wear around him, and him only.

The moment he saw you walk down those stairs, he knew you had him wrapped around your finger all over again. The too short skirt and see-through slip on you adorned leaving almost nothing to the imagination, if not for the cream colored cardigan you wore hiding the slivers of skin, leaving him wanting more of what was underneath.

'What a damn tease..' But Tojis eyes averted by the time your parents noticed your descend towards them. He didn't exactly want them seeing him ogle their daughter so openly.

Before any one of you could say anything more, your mother cut the greetings short. "Great, now that we're all finished reuniting again, let's start eating before the food gets cold."

Walking a little ways behind you, Toji catched the way your hips swayed as you walked. Whether you were doing it intentionally or not, he couldn't say for sure.

But one thing he was sure about, is that you were going to give him one hell of a hard time.

- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -

The rest of dinner went by quickly. Once you were all seated, your parents and Toji had no problem talking with each other. They were busy discussing something, but your mind was too occupied to actually listen in on what they were saying. Too busy playing around with the food on your plate as your mind ran aimlessly, and foot twitching anxiously.

The night could've been worse. Really, it could've. Sure you haven't made any progress yet, but you'll get there! Overall, nothing particular happened. Except for one thing.

Toji couldn't stop looking at you.

- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -

Before you knew it, dinner had come to an end. Toji had already taken his leave and bid you all a 'thanks for the meal' and a goodbye. Finally. Now you can slip away to your room, wipe off your makeup, and lay awake in your bed as you regret everything you could've said and done tonight but didn't without anyone noticing–

"Where do you think you're going?" There stood your mom, looking at you expectantly. Were you missing something?

"To my room, why?"

"Didn't you hear at dinner?"

'Was I supposed to hear something at dinner?'

"No, hear what exactly?"

"Tomorrow, you're going out to buy some decorations for a party we're having."

A beat of silence. Your eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as you wondered why the hell you would be having a party.

"Mom… I appreciate that you want to host a welcome back party for me, but there's really no need to." It's sweet that they missed you this much, but you weren't one for parties that were centered around you.

She laughed. "No, no, not a party for you. I know you don't like that kinda stuff,"

Oh. Nevermind then.

"Our annual winter get together. We do it every year with the rest of the neighborhood and we're the ones hosting this time. Have all those cup noodles gotten to your head and you suddenly forgot?" She shook her head in disappointment.

Low blow, mom.

"I didn't forget! I just...didn't know you'd be the ones doing it this year."

"If you were actually paying attention at dinner then you'd have heard."

"Sorry. So, tomorrow you want me to go out and buy decor right? Cool, I'll go after lunch."

Thinking that was the end of that, you began to trudge your way towards the staircase. Already almost at the top when your mother called out to you once more.

"Oh! and Toji's accompanying you."

Yup, definitely going to scream into your pillow tonight.

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brenwritesss · 11 days

Text

Tru Fru part 2

Paige Bueckers x reader

Summary: Paige invites you over to her dorm, allowing the two of you to get to know each other.

(If you want an alternate smut version, let me know! Or if you want a part 3)

(Also sorry for the real late upload, I ended up rotting in bed all day yesterday and never finished the ending to this part)

You stood in front of her door for five minutes, contemplating whether or not you should even be here right now. You had just met this girl twenty minutes ago and she didn’t even second guess having you over at her place. Should that have been a red flag?

You don’t even know what the two of you would be doing once you were inside. What was there to talk about? Considering you didn’t even know who she was, you doubt there would be much in common. You put your keys into your pocket, allowing you to knock on her door after almost running back down the hall and back into your car.

You heard someone stumble on the other side of the door, a few voices rising to the surface. You were unaware that she had roommates. You stood there quietly, taking in your last few seconds before the door opened. A girl who wasn’t Paige and was taller than you, looked at you confused. “Hi?”

“Hi, uh Paige invited me over. Is this the right dorm?” You looked back at your phone making sure the room number she gave you matched the room you were at right now. And there were no mistakes.

Her confusion turned into smiles when she said, “Oh, you’re the Tru Fru stealer.”

“Excuse me?”

She broke out into laughter. “Yeah, you kinda dirty for that, not gonna lie.”

You shook your head. “I didn’t steal anything, it’s her fault for not getting there sooner and taking it.”

“And you right,” she moved away from the entrance, allowing you to walk inside. “I’m KK, by the way.”

You smiled at her, turning towards her. “Y/n. I’m assuming you’re on the basketball team too?”

“And a Tru Fru lover. So I better not be seeing you in any Target taking the last bag,” she said in a tone that let you know she was joking.

“So who’s better? You or Paige?”

“Girl, me for real. Trust.” There was something about KK that instantly brightened your mood. You didn’t know how to explain it.

“Yo KK, down to join me in a new round?” Another girl walked out of a room towards your left. She was wearing a hoodie just like KK, her braids coming down to cover the top of the letters. She held a video game controller as she stopped when she saw you in the middle of their living room.

You gave her a small wave, smiling shyly. “I’m Y/n.”

“You’re Y/n? I’m Ice. Girl you are gorgeous,” she said, complimenting you.

A blush tinted your cheeks and you let out a small laugh, “thank you, that’s so nice. You are so pretty.”

She flipped her hair back with her hand. “Thanks girl.”

“Ay, what y’all doin out here,” Paige’s voice echoed through a small hallway, stopping short when she sees you standing next to KK. Her arms going behind her back, she smiled at you, “I didn’t know if you would actually stop by.”

You shrugged. “It’s not like I had anything better to do,” you joked. “And this bag is too big to keep to myself.” You held up the Tru Fru bag that you two fought over.

Both KK and Ice snickered, obviously knowing what had happened at Target. “You still want to pay up?” You threw her the bag, Paige catching it with ease.

She looked you up and down and that familiar feeling you had felt back in Target resurfaced. Paige was still in that Tru Fru sweatshirt and UConn sweatpants that you had met her in. That hoodie is about to be mine, you thought to yourself.

“Nah, I like having your number more,” she said, making the butterflies in your stomach multiply.

Ice made a sound, making everyone turn towards her. “Okay Paige coming in with the rizz.”

“Shut the hell up,” Paige scolded, lightly smacking her arm with her free hand.

KK pulled out her phone, “Yo, we finna call Nika and Azzi and show them your mad flirting skills.”

Paige rolled her eyes while you laughed, having no clue who Azzi and Nika were but you assumed they were more of Paige’s teammates. Paige walks towards you, eyes on KK. “You’re not gonna call them and we are gonna go chill in my room.”

Paige grabbed your hand and the action surprised you. Ice gave you and Paige a look that screamed ‘what the fuck’ while KK just continued laughing, typing in her phone.

Paige led you into her room, which was bare compared to yours. Her bed was fit into the corner, a bright purple comforter atop that you just wanted to snuggle into. Her dresser was directly across, a TV and a playstation decorating the top of the dresser. Next to her bed was a nightstand holding a pile of books.

You stood in the middle of the room, not really knowing what to do. “Nice room.”

“Thanks,” she said, more of a whisper. After closing the door behind her, she leaned against it. “Sorry about my teammates, they’re joking.”

“Oh I don’t mind,” you assured her, “my roommate is the same way, so I get it.”

She smiled at you and pointed toward her bed. “You’re chill to sit down.”

“Thanks,” you smiled back and took a seat on her bed. You couldn’t lie, this was incredibly awkward as you both didn’t know what to say.

Paige sat down next to you, looking at you while opening the Tru Fru bag. “So, what’s your major?”

“Biology. What about you?”

“Oh shit,” she said. “Biology’s cool. I’m majoring in human development, family studies. But I plan to go pro in the league after I graduate.”

You admired her determination in her answer. Even after only knowing her for an extremely short amount of time, you could tell she was very passionate about basketball. Just like how you were with biology. How you both were willing to do anything to achieve your goals in your careers.

“How long have you been playing?”

Paige adjusted her seating, turning more towards you. And closer to you. “Since I was a kid. You have no idea how many photos my mom has of me in basketball jerseys when I was like seven years old.”

“I don’t think I could ever play a sport like basketball. But hockey,” you continued, “that’s where it’s at.”

Paige raised her eyebrows, your comment earning a chuckle from her. “Really? Hockey?”

You nodded. “Yeah, it’s a hot sport to play.”

“So is basketball not hot?” she asked, popping a piece of Tru Fru into her mouth.

You reached into the bag, grabbing a handful and moving your legs up onto her bed so that your whole body was now on her bed. “It’s hit or miss.”

“Watch me play then that’ll change your mind,” she winked, earning a laugh from you.

“You inviting me to your game?”

“Obviously.”

You both stayed there for a while, eating the fruit. You could feel the tension between you two so you took to looking around her room while you could feel her eyes on you, examining every part of you. “So do you play hockey?” Paige asked you.

You shook your head. “I wish.”

“You should,” she said as she leaned towards you. Only a few centimeters toward your ear she whispered, “since it’s a hot sport, you’ll fit right in.”

“Well now I have to play,” you whispered back.

Still close to your face, her eyes lingered on your lips then back up to your eyes. “So what do you think?”

“Of?”

“Tru Fru.” She holds the bag in between your faces. You grab it from her, eating some. “It’s actually better than I thought it would be. I can see why you’re so obsessed with it.”

“I’m not obsessed.”

“Explain the merch then,” you said, pointing to her sweatshirt.

“Playing college basketball has its perks,” she whispered once more and gently grabbed your hand. You had a Tru Fru piece in between your fingers that you were about to eat. Paige guided your hand toward her mouth, her lips tickling your fingers as she took the piece from your hand. “Like getting a pretty girl’s number.”

Every part of you melted when she did that with your hand. “You’re gonna have to try a lot harder than that to make me fold.” That was a lie, you were folding right about now.

“Deal.”

There were a few voices outside Paige’s door but the two of you drowned out the sound with the growing tension between the two of you. You smiled at her, biting your lip in the process. Paige’s hand was still wrapped around yours when KK barged into the room.

“Hey Paige, the live wants to say-oh shit,” KK yelled, turning the phone away.

“KK, what the fuck,” Paige shouts, moving away from you in an instant. Ice came in, taking the phone from KK and going into another room.

KK ran up to the two of you. “Y’all I’m so sorry, I thought y’all were chillin’ playing video games or something, not making out.”

You set down the Tru Fru bag. “We weren’t making out. We were talking about hockey.”

Paige looked at you then back at KK. “Why would you go live right now? You do realize they just got a full view of her right?”

“What?” you asked, confused as to what they were talking about.

“Bro, I’m sorry. You know I wouldn’t do it on purpose.” KK looked scared almost. Not at Paige, but of what happened. Or what was going to happen.

You stood up, backing away from Paige and KK. “Can you guys tell me what’s going on?”

Paige itched the back of her neck, scrunching up her nose. “KK was live on instagram and she walked in with the camera pointed at us.”

You shrugged. “That’s not bad. Only a few people were on the live right?”

KK gave you an anxious look. “No yeah, it was only a few,” she trailed off, “thousand.”

You swear your eyes could have popped out from your skull with how wide they grew. “I’m sorry, what?”

KK continued apologizing, “I’m so sorry Y/n, but a few thousand people just saw what looked like you and Paige kissing on live.”

"I'm assuming that's really bad then?" you asked.

Paige walked over to you, looking you in the eyes when she says, "I'll make this up to you with all the Tru Fru you want because this is about to be trending on social media for a bit."

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x reader #uconn #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #wcbb

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touyaz · 1 year

Text

love shot

pairing shidou ryuusei x fem reader

word count 1.7k

notes the dialogue in this is the focal point & i was experimenting with it a lot, so shidou does say really . weird things. he's a lil hot + nasty like that <3 if you dont like it sorry u have no taste ♥️🙏

WARNINGS oral (f rec), masturbation (m), fingering, lots of petnames (wife, babygirl, and some other weird ones), reader has body hair. calls reader's pussy 'she' but otherwise no pronouns.

MINORS, AGELESS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ ONLY.

"ain't this the dream?" shidou murmurs, kneading your hips mindlessly. his head is buried in the crook of your neck, lips peppering kisses wherever they can. "bagged a cute, lil wife all for myself."

"stop it," you protest, leaning your head towards his so he has no space to press on. "we can do this later."

a displeased whine escapes him, and he tilts his head to dot kisses along your shoulder instead. "fuck that," he groans, and one hand comes up to tug the neckline of your shirt away. his mouth is hot against you, a little meaner than earlier with how he nips at your skin. he sweetens the blow with a fleeting kiss, only to repeat it all in the next second. "want your attention on me now."

"and i want to finish making dinner, but i guess—" you yelp when he bites the juncture between your neck and shoulder, dropping the knife in your hand so you can bat at his hands. "sei!"

"my bad," he snickers, his smirk searing itself into your flesh. "what'cha cookin', sweetcheeks?"

"curry," you snap, holding on to the edge of the counter when he doesn't budge. you bow your head, and as much as you want to finish making dinner, it's getting harder to focus on what you need to do next when shidou licks up the slant of your neck, nibbling on that soft spot behind your ear. "but it's all gonna— gonna burn if you keep this up."

"that's fine," he drawls, voice low like the rumble of a jet lifting off with the promise of taking you to new highs. "i'm in the mood for somethin' else, anyway."

there's no question about what he means when his hand snakes down your front, cupping where you're warm, wanting.

"bet you're pretty hungry for me yourself, huh?" he grins, rubbing over your sex firmly despite the layers. you can't deny it has you a little desperate, melting like butter in the hot pot next to you. it's always been too easy for him to get you like this, to have you craving whatever it is that he wants to do to you. "gonna let me take care of that for you?"

"you can do what you want later," you try again, one final attempt to win this battle, but shidou's never been one to share first place when it comes to competitions.

"or, i can turn this shit off," he starts, and he takes it upon himself to ruin everything you've done, turning the knob on the stove, so the fire dies out. "and you can hop onto the counter and let me dig into that sweet cunt of yours. sounds a lot better my way, yeah?"

there's no point in moaning about your half-cooked meal when he drags you away and helps you sit up on a cleaner surface.

"you're making dinner tonight after this," you tell him.

"yeah, yeah, whatever." he's more focussed on getting you out of your clothes, dragging your underwear down, too, and kicking the pile away when you're finally half-naked for him.

"and washing up."

"babydoll, i'll do whatever you fuckin' want, long as you spread your legs for me."

his words have you biting your cheek, and in a last ditch effort to defy him, you don't part your legs like he wants you to.

you also don't stop him from pushing them apart himself.

"not so mouthy now, are you?" he snickers, staring down at you. you can't hold his gaze and it makes him laugh louder. but then he leans in to kiss your cheek softly and the contrast has you clinging onto the edge of the counter, gulping. "you're so fuckin' cute," he murmurs, biting the fat of your cheek teasingly. "it's alright, baby, your cunt's doin' all the talkin' for you, dripping all over the kitchen. this your secret ingredient? cookin' up a love shot for me tonight?"

"shut up," you admonish, squeezing your eyes shut as if that'll help drown out his words. "that's so gross."

"fuck yeah, it is." he grins, canines bared and ready to feast. he finally sinks to his knees, and his voice sounds far away but no less overwhelming. "wouldn't mind you doing it for real. wouldn't ever wanna eat anything without it, though." he drags your legs over his shoulders easily. he wastes no time in getting his mouth on you, licking a long stripe up your slit and groaning at the taste. "oh, fuck yeah, this is it. been starving for your pussy juice all fuckin' day."

"don't— don't say that." you pull on his hair, taking your embarrassment out on him, but the moan he belts out doesn't sound the slightest bit pained.

"eh, why not?" he sucks your clit into his mouth, grazing his teeth over it lightly enough to make you jerk in his hold. he lets go with a wet smack of his lips, waiting patiently for you to look at him. when he notes the haze in your eyes, the dew on your lashes and the crease in your brows, he grins. "don't wanna hear how I've been thinking about your angel cunt all day? jacked off so many fuckin' times as well—"

"shut up—" you cry, yanking his hair, but he only rolls his eyes back shamelessly.

"fuck yeah, sexy." he drags you to the edge of the counter and back onto his eager mouth. his tongue is hot, wet, everywhere all at once. "pull it harder," he goads. "make it hurt."

narrowly, you watch as one hand disappears below, followed by the sounds of clothes ruffling as he loosens his trousers. "gonna make me nut all over the fucking floor."

he slurps noisily, messily, but it's not enough to mask the grunts and wet clicks that track each stroke of his length. his arm is a blur to you as he pumps himself, and your fingers flex around his pink-tipped strands in an attempt to ground yourself to something that isn't the lewd slide of his tongue into your sopping hole. his free hand joins in now, and it's your eyes rolling back this time, whimpers trickling out you as he starts circling your clit.

you barely understand when he starts mumbling into your pussy, "how about i'll cook ya dinner and you clean up my cum, how's that sound? off my dick and off the floor— so fuckin' dirty, bet you'd do it, though, eh?" he isn't looking for an answer, continues flicking his tongue and pinching your swollen bud and fucking his own fist to your whines. "soaking my face so much, yeah, you would do it, wouldn't ya? you've been like this all day? been waitin' for me to come home and eat you out? put up a fight earlier for what?" he slaps your clit lightly, but it's enough to have you bucking up, gasping. "yeah, that's it. been wanting this sloppy cunt on my face all day."

another hit lets you hear just how soaked you are from all his spit and drool, from your own arousal. "listen to that, she's been missing me, huh? sweet thing's been pent-up and leaking for me all day, haven't ya?" he kisses your clit and all along your slit, unabashedly wetting his lips with your arousal. "i'm here, babygirl, gonna take care of ya, gonna give you everything you're dripping for."

he uses his entire hand to spread your arousal around. he drags the mess from your slit upwards, soaking the hairs on your pelvis and drying off on your thighs only to push his fingers into your aching hole and follow the slick trail with his tongue instead.

"you ready to cum, baby?" through half-lidded eyes you can make out the way he looks up at you, eyes dark but sparking wickedly. "gonna give me all your honey-sweet love juice?"

you shake your head, gritting your teeth and hating every word that leaves him. you hate how it has you leaking onto his tongue, the coil inside of you winding tight.

he sinks his teeth along your thighs, curls his fingers in your pussy, and screws his hand around his dick. it's too much. he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks; he slips a third finger in and crooks it just right—

"don't leave me hangin' now, sugarcunt," he calls out. "let me get a taste of ya, i'm so fuckin' hungry. thought you were gonna feed me, huh?"

—and you cum with a drawn-out cry of his name, and he drags your high out until it hurts for him to give you any more.

"there she goes, give me all that sweet angel nut, baby."

your head spins, body heavy yet weightless.

over the sounds of your stilted breaths, you hear him growling, wet schlicks following as he brings himself to his own release. "oh, fuck yeah, this is it— gonna bust a— all over. should've cum in your little cunt— do it, next— gonna cum— gonna fuckin'—" his body tenses up and you watch as his cum spurts out, staining your cupboards.

he'll definitely be cleaning that up himself.

"that's the good shit," he sighs, slowing down his strokes. "feels so much better blowin' my load after eating your cum first. might have to bottle you up," he laughs tiredly. he slumps over, resting his head on your knee, and you push back the sweaty strands that cling to his forehead.

"what's—" you pant, taking a deep breath in. his chest heaves, but he doesn't look half as affected as you; if anything, he looks ready to go for another round or two, already dotting kisses back up your thigh. "what the hell's honey love juice?"

"all this good shit." he beams, easily sinking two fingers into your pussy. when he pulls them back out, he shows off the creamy strands of your arousal proudly. "and it's honey-sweet love juice. not a fan?"

"god, no," you grumble, staring at the webs that hang between his fingers.

you grimace as he slips his fingers into his mouth, speaking around them, "tastes sweet as honey, though." your face scrunches up with distaste and he continues, "how about sugar squirt, then? or creamy sex slick? or droolin'—"

#what is the point of a bllk smut fic if it doesn't revolve around reader getting head #do i tag LMAOO #fuck it we ball shidou girlies deserve smn #bllk smut #blue lock smut #shidou smut #shidou ryusei smut #shido ryusei smut #shidou ryuusei smut #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #shidou x reader #shido x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou ryuusei x reader #mine #mine.bllk

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theflowerrooms · 1 year

Note

fucking Eddie in his van>>>

This is so real! NSFW under the cut <3

I just know he’d keep it nice and clean if he knew you’d be back there with him

Like he’d have his band equipment organized and out of the way, there wouldn’t be any garbage or anything

He’d keep blankets and pillows back there, maybe even some fairy lights or something, just to make the atmosphere more comfortable

I just know you’d be with him driving somewhere, and he’d look over at you and suddenly he’s pulling over, he needs you

He’d be a gentleman, hold your hand as he helps you into the back and follows closely behind

It wouldn’t take him long to get your clothes off of you, for sure

I know he’d be mesmerized by the sight of your naked body. When you’re clothes are strewn about the back of the van, he’s on you, kissing every inch of your skin, complimenting every part of your body. Eddie makes you feel like precious art, because to him you are

He’d kiss you so hard, breath entwined and his tongue between your teeth, he’d keep his hands on you always, caressing your skin and revelling in the goosebumps that followed his path. He’d squeeze and grope the softest parts of your body and praise them immediately after

And I JUST KNOW he’d go down on you so quick

I’m a firm believer that Edward Munson is a giver, and I’m a believer believer that he is always going to be willing to get on his knees for you, his place of refuge is between your thighs

He’d make you cum on his mouth before he’d fuck you proper, or before he’d let you go down on him

There’s something he loves so much about you giving him head in the van, he loves to hear the music from the radio with his fingers tangled in your hair, guiding you up and down his cock

And he’d be loud, he’d moan and whine and praise you consistently

“Doin’ so good baby” “Mouth feels so good on me” “Fuck I love you, so good for me”

You’re grateful you’re almost always on secluded side roads when Eddie decides it’s time for impromptu van sessions

He’d kiss you so deep and ask if he can fuck you, beg practically. He’d tell you how bad he needs to feel you, how bad he needs to feel you cum on his cock, how bad he needs to fill you up with him

You didn’t ride him much in his van, he worried the floor was too hard on your knees, so he’d always lay you back on the blankets, paying extra care to your comfort

And he would fuck you, good and hard every time

He’d start off slow, till he could feel you pushing back to meet with his shallow thrusts, until you were whimpering and encouraging him to go faster

And he would, he’d make you scream from how good you felt, fucking you hard, his cock kissing your cervix

He’d fuck you hard enough that the van shook

“If the van’s rockin’, don’t come knockin’!”

He’d say it every. single. time. And it always got old, but it was Eddie, and he never got old

He’d laugh softly and help you to your orgasm, he talks you through it, praising you before, during, and after

He’ll fuck you through your orgasm and he’d cum immediately after you, seeing you like that would push him over the edge

The best part, would be laying with him in the back afterward, sweaty and in love, the air humid and the windows foggy, music still coming from the radio

And you have definitely been interrupted by police

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #perv!eddie munson #eddie munson smut #headcanon #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson headcanons #petalwrites #requested

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visionarymode · 6 months

Text

Double The Flavor

✧ warnings: smut, language, 18+

✧ pairing: jimmy uso & jey uso x female reader

✧ word count: 9,827

this is the final chapter of this twin series! you can catch up & read part 1 Seeing Double + part 2 Double Trouble <3 I hope y'all enjoy!

₊˚✩༺♡༻ ‧₊˚✩༺♡༻ ‧₊˚✩༺♡༻ ‧₊˚✩༺♡༻ ‧₊˚✩

“I-I was just getting more drinks,” you casually responded, covering for the both of you as you grabbed the beer bottles off the counter.

“Nah Y/N, I know you not doin’ nothin’. He clearly is,” he nudged his head over to Jey who was pacing before he stopped and kissed his teeth in response.

“Man whatchu’ mean? What am I tryna’ do?” Jey snapped back.

“It’s her birthday and you over here stealing her away from everyb-“

“I just came in here Uce. I wanted to wish her a happy birthday,” he swayed his hand over to you.

“It takes you ten minutes to wish someone a happy birthday? You not foolin’ nobody,” Jimmy sarcastically chuckled.

“It’s been like thirty fuckin’ seconds. Did you even wish her a happy birthday? Nah, you too busy bitching about not gettin’ any attention.” You took a long inhale as their back-and-forth bickering, the multiple bottles freezing our hands, and your fucking heels were irritating you more than ever.

“Of course I was gon’ wish her a happy birthday, that’s why I came lookin’ for you,” his tone softened as he turned his attention to you and you couldn’t help but soften your face.

“Yeah right,” Jey mumbled under his breath.

“Can we talk for a lil’?” Jimmy quietly asked as he stepped closer, only wanting you to hear his question.

“Yeah,” you softly responded with a smile. Jey kissed his teeth again in annoyance and walked over to you.

“I’ll take these for you bab-” he caught himself slipping your nickname before he quickly backtracked.

“Back. I’ll take these back for you,” he gazed into your eyes with his loving brown ones before you smiled and thanked him. He didn’t leave without giving his brother a glare as he walked out of the kitchen and back to the party.

“I don’t want any drama, please. It’s my birthday,” you softly expressed with a sigh.

“I know I know. I’m sorry, for real,” he placed his big, comforting hands on your bare shoulders before they trailed down to your arms and hands to enlace his fingers with yours.

“I gotchu’ something,” he confessed with a little grin.

“Awww, you didn’t have to,” you whispered feeling your cheeks flush.

“But I did…now open it,” he grinned handing you a tiny wrapped-up box with a pink bow on top. You giggled at the bow as he leaned on the counter watching you unwrap and open the gift.

“Oh my god, Jimmy…” you covered your mouth in awe at the shiny diamond graduated tennis necklace.

“How much was this?!” your jaw dropped as you carefully grabbing it out of the box.

“That don’t matter, anything is worth it if it’s for you,” he replied taking it out of your hands. “Let me help you put it on,” he whispered, nudging his head to your already worn necklace for the night. You reached to the back of your neck to unclip the one you already had on as you felt his body press up against yours. You grabbed your hair to hold it up as his fingers grazed your collarbone and neck, sending shivers down your spine as he clipped it for you. You pulled out your phone to see it through the camera and smiled like a geek at how gorgeous it was.

“You like it?” he whispered in your ear, kissing your neck as his hands slithered around your waist. Watching him love up on you through the screen made you weak in the knees.

“Yeah…I love it,” you breathed out.

“This dress is doin’ somethin’ to me…” he growled as he ran his right hand over your ass before groping it.

“Jimmy,” you giggled, grabbing his wrist to turn around before he grabbed you by the nape of your neck to kiss you. You couldn’t help but moan in his mouth as his fingers fell to the bottom of your dress as they delicately caressed your skin. They teasingly inched closer up your inner thigh, his fingertip brushing over your damp panties. He licked his lips as he looked back and forth between your panties and your face, the goofiest smile on his face indicating that you wanted it just as much as he did.

“Stop,” you laughed, playfully nudging him in the chest as you swiped your hands over your dress to recollect yourself.

“Fine…” he sighed, playfully rolling his eyes before he pulled you in again by the hips. “For real though…happy birthday,” he softly expressed against your glossy lips, your eyes lowly watching his soft, pink ones as he spoke.

“Thank you…” you pecked him, yearning for more of his juicy lips. “I love the necklace. Now let’s go back,” you kissed him one final time before heading back out to the party.

✧✧✧

“Oh shit sorry!” you quickly apologized before Jimmy started snickering like the goof he is at your reaction.

“Jimmy!” you nudged him in the chest, giggling a little yourself at the way you two just crashed into one another in the hallway. “What’re you doing up here?” you asked.

“I was lookin’ for the bathroom,” he whispered with a playful attitude, pulling you in by the hips to give you a quick peck.

“You know where the bathroom is,” you furrowed your brows, grinning at the way he cradled your face in his big, comforting hands.

“Man, I’m a little drunk I forgot. There’s too many doors up here,” he remarked in his playful pitched voice, kissing you again making your cheeks flush at his addictive touch.

“It’s over here come on,” you giggled at the way he kept his hands around you as you led him down the long hallway.

“It’s right here, are you feeling okay?” you pushed open the door and turned on the light, stepping away to go back downstairs before he picked you up in his arms making you yelp with laughter.

“What’re you doing?!” you laughed as he shut the door behind him, placing you on the bathroom counter.

“Whatchu’ mean?” he growled, pulling you in by your thighs to close the space between you, your arms flying around his neck as he pressed his lips on yours, his low moan from the kiss making you pull on his chain.

“You weren’t looking for the bathroom, liar,” you mumbled, your head rotating from left to right as he didn’t stop his tongue from tussling with yours.

“Who’s a liar?” he teased, groping your left breast as he dragged his tongue up your neck, audibly sucking on your sweet spot, making your head fall back onto the mirror.

“Watch your attitude Jim Uso…it’s my birthday,” you gasped as he slurped his tongue over your neck, sucking you like he wanted to mark you up.

“Yeah, I know…” he panted, retrieving his mouth from your neck to brush them over your own lips. “Let me give you a lil’ present baby…” he whispered, his left hand slowly yet smoothly running from your right ankle up to your thigh, his fingers tauntingly tapping at your clothed pussy.

“A present?” you whispered back, biting your bottom lip with a longed moan, your eyes never leaving his as he added some more pressure over your panties, his thumb giving your clit a little attention.

“Lemme make the birthday girl cum all on my tongue…” he growled as his eyes dropped to your parted lips, licking his own as he traced his fingers down your panties, pushing them to the side as he opened your slick folds to feel your drenched mess.

“Fuck…” you whined as he continued to flatly drag his two fingers between your soaking folds.

“I gotchu’ baby,” he sexily nodded, pulling you a little further down the counter as he folded you like a pretzel, bending your knees towards your face as he held you in place by the back of your thighs. He lifted your dress to your hips, abruptly feeling his fangs nip your lower back as he pulled on your panties with his teeth, watching him drag it down your legs as he held your ankles in his hands. He kept your baby blue laced panties in between his teeth as he leaned in, dipping his fingers back into your drenched folds as a moan escaped you again.

Talk about fucking deja vu.

“Whose pussy is this?” he mumbled with your panties still between his teeth, continuing to rub his long fingers along your wetness before you loudly gasped as he slipped in his middle finger. You instantly clenched around it as he laced his free hand with yours against the mirror.

“Whose is it?” he gritted again, curling his finger inside you with slow and steady pumps as he hit your g spot.

“Y-Yours baby…” you moaned as you pulled your panties out his mouth to satisfy your yearning oral fixation. You both moaned against each other’s tongues as he sloshed his long finger in and out…in and out…in and out…

“Mm. Mm. Not yet…” he slowly pulled his finger back out once you pulsated around his it, knowing you were close to soaking his digit.

He left soft, warm, sloppy kisses down your thigh as he spread open your legs wider, your grip on the back of your knees tightening as he looked into your eyes, continuing to teasingly twirl his tongue on your skin, covering and coating your inner thighs with his saliva.

His piercing, adoring, deep brown eyes stared into your needy ones as he used both of his thumbs to open your folds, chuckling at your sudden twitch from your impatience.

“Jimmy…” your whine turned into a hushed gasp as he flattened his long, warm tongue along your entrance, his eyes never leaving yours as he torturously yet slowly flicked his tongue up to your clit.

“Hm?” he hummed, twirling his tongue around your sensitive clit as he enclosed his lip around your entire bean, sucking it like it was his favorite lollipop. His tongue returned along your entrance, steadily lapping the inside of your folds as his hands ran up and down your thighs.

“Fuuuuuuk,” you moaned as he continuously lapped, sucked, and twirled his tongue up and down your entrance and back up to your clit.

“Like that huh?” he asked, licking his lips as he folded you further, your pussy up in the air as he let a long, thick string of his spit fall inside your lower lips. He leaned further down to spit again, this time more forcefully as you felt his saliva shoot on your hole. You watched him flatten his tongue again, this time scooping up his spit with the curled tip of his tongue. Your legs shook as he spit again, his tongue diving in deeper to spread it around as he buried his face inside of you, watching your moans heighten in pitch.

“Shiiiiiit…” you moaned in a high pitch, clutching your legs around his head as he audibly and hungrily suckled your folds. “I’m gonna cum baby…” you gasped as he spat inside you again, loudly slurping it up making him groan. He spanked the side of your thigh, gripping it tightly as he deeply buried his face between your thighs, watching your head practically roll back on the mirror from pleasure. Your legs shook around his head as he gripped your thighs harder, spit a little harder as it dripped down between your ass cheeks before he licked it all the way back up to your entrance. He motorboated your soaking folds and hurriedly massaged your clit as your back arched, moans escalated and juices spurt all in his mouth. Your pants grew slower as he continued to lick up every drop of your pouring nectar. He chuckled as he watched you stay in your crouched position against the mirror, pulling you by your arms to sit back up.

“Happy birthday,” he deeply professed, sweetly pecking you before he slithered his creamy coated tongue in your mouth, giving you a taste of your juices.

“Thank you…” you breathlessly giggled as he picked you up in his arms, your legs wrapped around his torso as you made out for another minute, or ten until you decided to get back to the party.

✧✧✧

You plopped down on your pink faux fur-covered bar stool in front of your vanity, taking a big chug of your water bottle. You were craving that nice cold water like you were deprived from it for so long after a long night of strictly alcoholic drinks. You froze looking around to remember what you wanted to do, giggling at the realization, and grabbed your blush & brush to pat some more on your cheeks. Two subtle knocks at your door made you turn your head to find Jey peeking his head inside.

“Bae, can I come in?” he whispered.

“You’re already in so yes,” you giggled, feeling excitement rush through your drunk tingly body at his presence.

“Whatchu’ doin up here?” he asked, smoothing his hands down your shoulders as he gazed through your eyes in the brightly lit mirror.

“I wanted to touch up my makeup…” you quietly responded, easily lost in his eyes as your fingers lazily caressed his tatted arms that wrapped around your chest.

“Mm. Mm. You don’t need none of that…” he mumbled, pressing his soft lips on the side of your neck, his tongue slipping out to twirl juicy circles around your skin.

“Yeah? What do I need then?” you purred, a horny sigh falling from your lips as his grillz sunk into your skin.

“You need this two-time tag champ to soak this pretty pussy…” he growled in your ear, his hands slithering around your waist and down your thighs, gripping them as he slowly spread them apart. You let out a shaky breath, watching him lick his lips in the mirror as he caught your eyes through the mirror hearing your giggle.

“Why you laughin’?” he asked, playfully offended as he lightly poked your side making you jerk in his arms.

“Two-time tag champ huh?” you asked, turning your head to the left so your faces were inches away.

“Hell yeah, you wanna see ‘em?” he raised his brows with the biggest grin on his face. You nodded with another laugh as he got up to fetch them from wherever he left them in your house. The music blared through the space as the door was left half open. You stood up and hummed to the lyrics of Disturbia, Rihanna always knew how to get your body moving like you were the baddest in the room. You heard a deep voice clear its throat, making you turn your head at the handsome sight in front of you. Jey walked in with his sexy smirk, his big hands gripping the two titles as they hung over his shoulders. You pressed your lips together trying to hide your flushed and aroused face as he kicked the door shut behind him, stepping in your proximity as he towered over you, making you lean back on the vanity dresser.

“You like what you see huh?” he teased as your eyes fell up and down his tall figure.

“Mhm…” you practically moaned, pulling him in by his shirt to press your lips on his. Your tongue swirled in his mouth, yearning for him to reciprocate as he sucked on it.

“Turn around baby…” he mumbled against your plump lips as you complied. “Red or blue?” he purred in your ear as his right hand gripped your hip, sliding it around your waist.

“What?” you chuckled as his grillz grazed your earlobe. You gasped as he loudly spanked you, pushing you further so your hands laid flat on the vanity, feeling his poking bulge on your backside.

“I said red or blue?” he growled again, grabbing the hair laid on the left side of your shoulder to push it around the other side, making space to lick and enclose his lips around your neck.

“Blue…main event jey uso…” you whispered his name referring to his blue-themed merch and gear he wore every Monday night. You heard the sound of velcro ripping as you watched him secure his blue tag title belt around your waist. You ran your fingers over the plates before he grabbed your right hand to twirl you around.

“Mmmhmmm…” he lowly moaned as he licked his lips, stepping back to fully take you in with the title making you giggle.

“Like what you see?” you softly cooed, laying back your palms on the dresser as you teasingly dragged your left heel up against your right leg.

“Hell yeah…” he growled, closing the space between you two as he hurriedly grabbed the nape of your neck to weave your lips together. The audible smacks of your hungry lips colliding with the slops and slurps of your tongues filled the silent space in your bedroom as the faint music continued downstairs. He abruptly scooped you up on the vanity as pallets and compacts fell to the floor, your kiss never breaking as it almost became a race to see who could suck each other’s

faces faster. He pulled you in by your right leg, the warmth between your thighs met with his bare stomach as you started pulling up his shirt. He helped you quicken the process as he used one arm to slide his shirt over his head, revealing his tanned and tattooed body as you ran both your hands down to his belt. You jumped off the vanity, placing your tiny hands around his waist as you started moving him back.

“Whatchu’ doin’…” he softly breathed out, his eyes still hyper-fixated on your smudgy lips before you pushed him back on your bed with a smirk. You sat on his lap, feeling his hard-on as you whipped your hair back to lean in for another sloppy kiss. You sat back up, wiping the glossy corners of your mouth with your thumb as he tried to pull you towards him again by the title. You slightly lifted your dress above your ass, his hands naturally rubbing up on your ass cheeks as he forcefully squeezed them. You started rocking your hips back and forth, feeling his bulge grow by the second as he watched you in awe.

“What if I just…” your grind against his hard dick poking through his jeans slowed down, your panties getting wetter by the second. “…rode you like this…and bounced on this dick…with this title around my waist?” you softly asked, your eyes never leaving his as he let out a desperate grunt, pulling your wrist towards him so he could grab your throat.

“Whatchu’ waitin for then?” he growled, bucking his hips, allowing you to fall further on his chest as he spanked your right cheek making your giggle turn into a moan.

“Y/N we have t- oh my god!” you quickly got off his lap before you saw a tiny peek of Jasmine’s face before she shut the door.

“Y’all are nasty at least lock the damn door!” she hissed from the other side making you cover your mouth in giggles. Your legs were still sprawled on his lap as he ran his fingers up and down your skin, making you quiver.

“Whatchu’ wan-” Jey started to snap back before you covered his mouth, but he took that opportunity to playfully bite your palm.

“What’s up girl?” you yelled out, trying to hold your yelps as Jey snatched you back on his lap, leaving little sucks down your neck and breasts.

“I wanted to make a toast for you! Girl I even brought out the cake y’all can fuck later!” she quietly yet loudly vocalized.

“Okay I’ll b-be out in a minute I swear…” you breathed out the last syllable as Jey ran his fingers up and down your damp panties, allowing you to naturally grind over them.

“Fuck…” you moaned, suddenly feeling a rush of warmth and tingles spark through your body. You had to ride this out because you were already too deep into this upcoming orgasm ready to bolt through your body just from his fingers. You held his face in your hands, your panting growing as he held a gentle grip on your throat, his other long fingers slipping inside your panties.

“Lemme help you bae…” he whispered. Your eyes fluttered shut, a hushed moan slipping from your mouth as he slipped his long middle finger inside your dripping hole, steadily and slowly pushing it in and out as you clenched around it. He pulled you in by the throat until your forehead was pressed against his.

“I’m gonna cum…shit…” you whined in a high-pitched whisper as he slowly slipped it out, this time sticking that middle finger & forefinger into his mouth as he sucked, letting a string of spit follow them as he brought them to your lips. You stared into his eyes with another moan as your tongue slid down those same sloppy digits, adding extra saliva-stained moisture. He purposefully wiped some across your lips before he brought them back down to the heated space between your open thighs, slipping those wet fingers back into your needy hole. You gasped a little louder, grinding against them a little harder, and gripping the ends of his hair a little tighter as you felt a rush of swarming nerves down your spine. He pumped faster, the soundable sloshes of his fingers driving in and out of your drenched pussy filling the room as he nodded his head, licked his lips, and groaned watching you fuck his dedicated fingers.

“Like that baby? You gon’ cum for me?” he hurriedly whispered as he curled his fingers up to hit your g spot with each stroke as you pulled his head in with force, his lips falling onto your peeking breasts as he swirled his tongue over them. Your grind was needier, faster, hungrier…you knew what you needed to make that explosion inside your body erupt so you grabbed his bearded jaw and bit his lip to allow space for you to roam the inside of his mouth with your tongue. His tongue swiped back as he loudly spanked and groped your right ass cheek making that explosion finally burst in your body.

“Fuuuuuuuuck,” you loudly cried, feeling your juices drench his fingers and knuckles as he slowed down his pumps, using your ass for leverage to help you slow your grind.

“Mmhmm…” he moaned against your neck, leaving another sloppy kiss before he retracted his fingers and immediately sucked off your nectar like it was the snack he’s been deprived of.

“I’m gon’ make yo fine ass cum all night,” he emphasized the last word as he dropped his palm back down to your sensitive lower lips to scoop up the rest of your nectar. You bit your bottom lip watching him pull out his finger that was licked clean as he swallowed your milky release.

“You taste even better on yo birthday,” he softly expressed, slipping his fingers in your mouth to get some aftertaste. You purposely sucked it as if it was his dick, moaning as you rubbed on his big bulge.

“Stop playin’ because I’m gonna keep your ass up in this room all night and not give a fuck,” he joked, slapping your ass again as you giggled.

“Oh fuck…your pants,” you sighed with a shyly embarrassed smile, looking down at the wet stains on his black jeans.

“It’s okay, every man got his moments,” he kissed his teeth as he jokingly shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh wait, you left some jeans here. I washed them a couple of days ago,” you quickly got off his lap to look for them in your closet.

“You washed ‘em for me?” he smirked, pecking your lips before he started taking off his belt & unzipping his pants.

“Of course I did?” you drunkenly responded, peeping down at his stained boxers. “That…wasn’t me though,” you pointed at the pre cum seeping through the fabric as he chuckled.

“It was you though. You do this to me,” he playfully gritted through his teeth before he abruptly picked you up in your arms and pinned you against the door to spoil you more with his savory and needy kisses. Suddenly you almost got knocked out of his arms as the door pushed open. Jey helped you stand as Jasmine peeked through the door again.

“Y’all still fucking around?!” she covered her eyes.

“No! We’re done,” you wiped your mouth, fixed your dress and walked over to pull her hands down.

“For now,” he mumbled with a fake cough, his belt clinging in his hands as he buckled his new pants.

“I’m sorry I know it’s your birthday but I memorized a long speech and girl if I take one more shot it’s gonna fly out my brain,” she hurriedly whispered grabbing your wrist. You looked back at Jey to see him annoyingly shaking his head at her, making you giggle.

“C’mon,” he whispered, slapping you on the ass as he shut your door and followed you both down the stairs.

“Hey everyone!” she yelled as she sat you down in the chair at the front of the room. Your social anxiety rushed from head to toe as you drunkenly forgot how many damn people were actually here, staring at you while you tried not to burst into laughter at their sudden focus knowing that when Jasmine yells, you better pay attention. Your drunk, wandering eyes landed on Jimmy at the far left. But his eyes weren’t on you.

They were focused on his twin brother who was standing across the room. His brows were furrowed, a look of disgust on his face, looking him up and down almost like he was inspecting every little thing about his outfit. His outfit. Oh shit. The Jeans. They’re different. He looked back at you and down to your legs that were clutched together as you sat on your hands, a memory suddenly popping into your brain.

“Why you sittin’ like that?” Jimmy chuckled, his hand running up and down your bare thigh, teasingly pulling at the hem of your dress.

“Because you just…” you whisperingly stammered, your eyes widened at him referring to the unintentional orgasm you just had from him fingering you under the dinner table.

“Whatchu’ whisperin for? They all in the kitchen…” he leaned into your ear, poking his fingers between your clutched thighs to force them back open. And you willingly let him.

“Jimmy,” you whined checking to see if the family would walk back into the dining room.

“Stop sittin’ on your hands,” he kissed his teeth as he pulled on your wrist. “I love these hands don’t be doin’ that,” his deep voice making you tremble.

“Stop I’m embarrassed. I got invited over for dinner. I’m supposed to be acting all classy but I’m over here being a whore,” you sighed before he kissed his teeth at your word choice.

“Man, what? Don’t be callin’ yourself that,” he scooted his chair closer to you, putting his arm around your shoulder as he kissed your cheek. “Look at me,” he lowly expressed as you worriedly watched the door. You couldn’t hide your smile as cradled the side of your face, grinning against your lips.

“What?” you giggled as he scooped your legs onto his lap, pulling you into his chest.

“Keep closin’ these legs acting like I won’t spread them open and make you cum again…” he mumbled as he left kisses down your neck, your legs naturally opening up again as his fingers returned to your drenched mess in between.

That memory looked like it transferred into his brain because he suddenly looked back and forth between the two of you again, almost vindictively chuckling as he took a sip of his drink. You anxiously cleared your throat as Jasmine started addressing the crowd.

“We all know it’s this bad bitch’s birthday today,” she shook your shoulders to hype you up and pecked you on the cheek, making them flush as everyone cheered.

“The second you walked into my third-grade class, I knew you were gonna be a pain in the ass. You still are,” she trailed off making everyone laugh as you shook your head with embarrassment.

“But! You were only a pain in the ass because you were so much like me. After so many projects together I realized that you were someone I wanted to keep in my life. I’m so grateful I did because these twenty years with you have been the best years of my life. From trick or treating, to prom, to fighting over the cutest boys in school, to getting so drunk at 3 am that we cried our eyes out, and to celebrating your 30th today. You’re the smartest, funniest, kindest, and most gorgeous woman I know and I love you!!!” she screamed as claps and cheers filled the room, everyone raising their glass in the air. You stood up to face her, both of your eyes glossy as you cheered your wine glasses and gave her a big embrace.

“I love you bestie,” you laughed lightly tapping the tears on her face to avoid ruining her makeup.

“Hey, hey I wanna make a lil’ toast now!” your head turned to Jimmy raising his glass in the air to catch everyone’s attention again. “If that’s okay?” he whispered yet shouted at you across the room making you nervously giggle. You nodded back at him with an inviting smile, sitting back down in your chair intrigued by what he had to say.

“This ain’t gonna top Jaz’s toast but I just wanted to let everyone know that…this woman right over here,” he pointed at you, stumbling a little in his steps as he shook his head at you, almost in awe of the view. You felt your pulse quicken from his captivating, loving eyes staring right at you. “This woman is one of the best friends I’ve ever had. She stuck with me when I was at my lowest. At my highest. If there’s one thing Y/N is always gon’ do it’s stick with you through it all because she’s loyal…” he emphasized the last word as he glared at Jey. You felt your breath hitch in your throat and your eyes rapidly peered at the both of them, Jey scrunching his face in confusion and annoyance at his twin.

“…she loyal. She beautiful. And I love you,” Jimmy softly confessed, staring into your eyes as he said those last three words, raising his glass as everyone loudly cheered their glasses as well. You felt your heart pounding. No one thought anything of it because again, the twins have always told you they loved you. But the way he said it. The way he looked deep inside your soul as he said it. He meant it.

“I love you,” he mouthed to you again over the voices conversing and you slightly tilted your head to the right, a shy smile forming on your lips as you felt extremely appreciated.

“Aye! Aye hol’ up if we makin’ toasts let me get in and say somethin’ real quick!” Jey called out making everyone quiet back down.

“Girl what the hell did I start…” Jasmine whispered in your ear as you shakily sighed knowing this most likely wasn’t gonna end well.

“Y/N…” he softly vocalized, extending his hand out for you to walk over and grab. Your breathing quickened as your lips parted in slight shock that he was putting you on the spot like this. You quickly tried to peer over at Jimmy who was clearly pissed off, face scrunched up, brows furrowed, watching intently. You walked over and held his hand, giggling as he spun you around in front of everyone.

“Y’all see her right here? This a woman that you need in your life. A woman who’s gonna be there for you, care for you, and comfort you always. When you’re around Y/N…” he trailed off pulling you to his side as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, his lips inches away as looked into your eyes. He paused, licking his lips as he admired you. You felt your cheeks heat up and smoothly rubbed his lower back as your arm wrapped around it.

“…you always gon’ laugh. You always gon’ be smiling and havin’ a good time…” Suddenly a deep laugh interrupted his speech as you, Jey, and everyone else looked to see where it came from.

And to no surprise.

It was from Jimmy.

“Whatchu’ laughing at?” Jey snapped, taking his arm off of you. The loss of contact made you snap back to reality, making you wipe a tear from your cheek that fell from the sweet words Jey was soothing you with.

“That toast sounded like a bunch of bullshit,” he chuckled, taking a sip of his glass. Jey kissed his teeth as everyone stared at the two bickering in front of them. You furrowed your brows and tried to get Jimmy to meet your offended eyes but he wouldn’t.

“Uce calm down man…” Solo mumbled as he grabbed Jimmy’s arm before he snatched it away from his grip.

“Nah nah, he always gotta be the center of attention. He don’t like that I said a lil’ speech for Y/N because he’s jealous,” he professed as he pointed at Jey. Everyone oohed and lowly gasped at his words and you slightly punched Jasmine’s arm as she calmly and comfortingly rubbed your back.

“They can’t be serious…” you mumbled under your breath, widening your eyes at Jasmine, her jaw dropping.

“Nah you wanna know what he really mad at? He mad that me and Cody over here…” he turned around to wrap his arm around Cody’s shoulders as he picked up his titles laid across the table behind him. “…won this shit right here and he lost like he always do.”

Cody kept his titles down to mumble something in Jey’s ear, possibly trying to advise him to calm down.

“Why you bringin’ that up?” Solo hissed, feeling offended.

“Because he wanted to act like a little bitch,” Jey snapped again, walking towards Jimmy who spread his arms wide open, inviting him to take a shot.

“Whatchu’ gon do? I’ll knock your ass out again,” he laughed.

You got deja vu from Solo’s party as everyone started crowding them again to separate them before you got extremely pissed off and had enough.

“Hey!” you yelled.

You pulled on Jimmy’s wrist then Jey’s as you dragged them to the staircase, hearing Jasmine in the background get everybody back in the mood as she turned the music back up.

“Whatchu’ doin’?” Jimmy asked in a hushed tone.

“Go upstairs,” you sternly looked at Jey who tried to speak up before you cut him off.

“You heard her,” Jimmy shot before you glared at him.

“You too,” you squinted, baffled at his attitude. You pushed him up the stairs in pursuit of his brother. You took a deep breath and followed them up and forced them to get inside your room.

“What the fuck is wrong with you guys?!” you hissed once you shut the door.

“Whatchu’ mean-“

“Shut up. Sit down!” you lightly pushed Jimmy’s arm to get to the bed.

“Okay! Damn,” he replied in a high-pitched tone, obeying your demand.

“Y/N, we good let’s just go back down-”

“No. You sit too,” you glared at Jey and his face softened as guilt took over his expression realizing you were genuinely pissed at the both of them. He walked over and sat beside Jimmy at the edge of the bed.

“It’s my birthday. It’s literally my birthday and you’re both out here arguing like little ass kids in front of everybody! Like what the fuck?!” you yelled in frustration as they both refused to meet your eyes.

“Baby, what I do? Jaz made a toast. Then I wanted to make a toast too. Jey’s the one that always makes it about him.”

“Man shut up. Talkin’ about baby. Talkin’ ‘bout I love you,” Jey mocked him from earlier. Jimmy kissed his teeth at his remarks.

“See Y/N? This exactly what I been sayin’. He’s jealous! Jealous like a motherfucker! And I do love her. Do you?”

“Yeah, I fuckin’ do. I’d do anything for her.”

You could feel your heart thumping out of your chest as your eyes eagerly switched from one twin to the next.

“I just wanted one night. One fucking night where everyone can drink, have fun, get together for a little party and you couldn’t do that for me?” you vocalized again, feeling tears sting your eyes. The crack in your voice made them both simultaneously look up from the ground and meet your gaze.

“I don’t wanna do this shit with either of you if it’s just ruining your relationship! I’m not important. At all. I’m just a girl. You’re fucking hot shot wrestlers, you can get any girls you want! Ones that won’t cause issues!”

“Y/N…” Jey spoke up before you cut him off.

“No. I’m being serious. It was wrong to let things go too far in the first place. With both of you. Like fuck. I feel like a whore! Two brothers? Twins? That’s fucking crazy!” you sarcastically laughed, clearly word vomiting from the alcohol swirling in your system.

“Y/N don’t be calling yourself that shit,” Jimmy quickly replied.

“Like what the fuck are we doing? I don’t like the arguing. I hate it. I hate seeing you guys like this all because of me. I don’t wanna get in between you guys and the bond you have-”

“Maybe you should get between us,” Jimmy interrupted with a deep, semi-audible voice as he looked up at you, enlacing his fingers together between his spread open legs. You furrowed your brows, confused at his statement.

“What?” you asked for clarification, thinking you were just too tipsy to hear what he said.

“I said maybe you should…get between us,” he turned his head towards Jey, looking at him as if he was sending some time of twin telepathic message you couldn’t fucking comprehend. Jey shyly smirked at the floor, lightly chuckling.

“Yeah…you know what maybe you right uce,” he chimed in, gazing up at you with that same smirk.

“What the fuck are you guys talking about?” you spat thinking this was some kind of sick joke they were playing on you. You looked at Jimmy who slowly got up from the bed, sighing, walking over to tilt your chin up with his right hand. He caught you off guard as he kissed you, your eyes staying open for a second before they naturally closed at the comfort of his lips.

“We hear you…” he murmured as he snuck his way behind you making you turn around to watch what he was doing before he turned your jaw back to his brother still sitting on the bed. Your eyes locked with Jey’s as he caressed the top of your hands with his thumbs, feeling your nerves as he tried to calm you down. Suddenly you felt Jimmy’s chilling breath on your neck as he left a tiny, sloppy kiss, feeling his saliva on your skin making you shut your eyes.

“You tired of the fighting…we tired of the fighting…so let’s stop fighting…” he thrillingly whispered in your ear in between kisses as Jey ran his big, warm hands up your bare thighs tugging at the bottom of your dress.

“Stop stressin’…and just relax…” he slowly slid his tongue up your neck and around your earlobe as he bit it making you shiver from his touch. You felt like you were fucking dreaming. Like you were being hypnotized. You couldn’t move. The only thing moving was the drips oozing out of your aching pussy.

“W-What?” you stuttered before a satisfied, horny sigh fell from your mouth as you felt Jimmy’s bulge poking your lower back, his fingers tracing the inside of your dress, tantalizingly grazing your ass.

“Don’t choose. You can just have both…” Jey caught your attention as you opened your eyes to meet his, his fingers tugging on the hem of your panties as his other two middle fingers gently rubbed up and down your increasingly soaked mess.

“This is crazy…” you whispered, your eyes wandering from Jey’s left eye to his right, searching for his response to see if it would be the same but he hooked his finger inside your panties to pull you closer so your stomach was pressed up on his chest. He shook his head, his lips frowning as he gave you an “It’s not crazy” look. He scooted back on the bed until he was laid up against the headboard, unbuckling his pants.

“Come here bae,” he extended his hand for you to get up on the bed to grab but you felt like your feet were stuck on the floor. Your eyes tentatively watched Jey’s bracelet move along his wrist as it held one end of his belt, his long, thick, tanned fingers unbuckling as the sound rang in your ears. Your mind swirling like Jimmy’s tongue on your skin, his hands lifting your dress above your ass as he spanked you, feeling your breath catch in your throat reminding you that you were breathing.

“Get up on the bed…we gotchu’ baby…” he whispered again, his lips caressing your ear as he gave a boost, his right hand pushing down your back as you bent over the bed. You naturally crawled over to Jey, a sense of comfort relaxing your nerves as he pulled you closer once you grabbed his hand. He got up on his knees, his pants still half undone as he brought you up to his height, softly caressing your chin as he brought his comforting, warm, wet lips to yours. He cradled your face in his hands, your own hands holding his wrists in place. It was almost as if he was reminding you to let loose, relax, and let your body unravel as your tongue swirled with his, a small moan transferring to his mouth as you felt that similar arousal and passion ignite with the both of them. Your tongues continued to weave together as his hands dropped back down to whip off his belt altogether, blindly throwing it as it clanged on the floor. You helped him take off his pants and boxers as his long, thick, enticing brown dick sprung out. You bit your lip, your mouth watering at the familiar, sexy view as he smirked at your reaction. He laid back up against the headboard again, spreading his burly thighs apart as he slowly stroked himself as he kept eye contact. You felt Jimmy’s hand push down on your back as you were face to face with Jey’s dick.

“Mmmm…” you shudderingly moaned as you watched his long, tanned fingers stroke up and down…up and down…up and down…

Jimmy’s fingers hooked under the side hips of your panties, sliding them off of you as you lifted each knee to help him. His soft palms softly rounded your ass cheeks, taking his time as they rubbed up and down the back of your thighs, hungrily humming beneath your folds as you felt his cold breath overrule the heat.

“You already soaking baby?” Jimmy asked with a deep chuckle, his two middle fingers vertically sliding between your drenched folds as your mouth parted open with a desperate moan. Jey took that opportunity to tilt the head of his dick towards your lips, swiping his pre cum across like lip gloss as you licked it all with the peeking tip of your tongue.

“Fuck…” you moaned again as Jimmy’s vertical strokes along your entrance sped up, the tips of his fingers rubbing up on your clit every time they crept up in that direction. You stuck out your tongue as you kept your adoring eyes on Jey, slowly flattening it on his veiny shaft as you came up to the tip, swirling your tongue all around his head still sept with pre cum. You moaned with him as he held the back of your neck, his hand caressing your hair as you enclosed your lips around his smooth and soft tip, making out with it as Jimmy’s tongue flattened along your entrance.

“Yeah…just like that baby. That’s my girl…” Jey mumbled with a low grunt as you slowly engulfed half of his length down your throat, another moan escaping you as you vibrated around his dick, Jimmy’s tongue gliding up, down, and around your entrance with a speedier pace. You matched your pace with his, bobbing your head up and down as you swallowed every inch of Jey’s length, watching his low, focused, deep brown eyes study the way your tongue lapped up his length. You gagged with him deep in your throat as Jimmy loudly spanked your right ass cheek, spreading your cheeks open wider as he fully enclosed his lips deep inside your pussy, sucking on it like he wanted to take the air out of it.

“Fuuuuuuck…” you loudly gasped, coming back up for air as a long string of spit still connected your sloppy lips with Jey’s tip. He removed your hair out of your face as he took over for you, the loud sloppy strokes of his wet hand sliding up and down his dick combined with Jimmy’s loud, sloppy slurps deep inside your pussy.

“Yeah…c’mon baby cum on my tongue,” Jimmy muttered as his thumb massaged your clit, his tongue not stopping its vicious flicks as he used both hands to spank both of your ass cheeks.

“Oh my god…” you whisperingly gasped as Jey opened up your cheeks with his right hand, sliding his tongue inside as his strokes heightened, his moans mixing with yours as both of you panted against each other’s mouths.

“Cum with me bae…” he moaned, his words barely heard over the wet strokes of his hands ringing in your ears. You felt your body uncontrollably tremble, struggling to stay on your knees, your mind fuzzed with arousal, and your body suddenly sat upright as Jimmy pulled you back up by your hair. He snuck up under you, his head laid up on the bed as he pulled you back down to sit on his face.

“Fuuuuuck yes…” you cried, carelessly riding his face as his tongue dipped in and out of your hole, Jey got on his knees before you grabbed his dick with both hands, stroking and twisting him with your drenched, slippery hands, your tongue sloppily kissing his tip as you felt him throb around your hands.

“I’m gonna cum f-fuuuuck oh my god,” you moaned as you rocked your hips, clenching around Jimmy’s tongue as Jey got on his knees, the tip of his dick brushing against your tongue as you stuck it out for him.

“You so sexy baby... You want me to cum in this pretty ass mouth?” he moaned, his strokes faster, your moans louder, and Jimmy’s grips on your hips tighter as he helped you ride his face. You nodded with another high-pitched moan as Jey tangled his fingers deep inside your roots. Jimmy spanked you one last time, surely leaving a red print as he tightly groped your ass cheeks. You couldn’t control your body shakes or loud cries as you felt your inner thighs and Jimmy’s mouth completely drenched from your orgasm.

“Mmmm…shit,” Jey groaned, watching you in pure bliss as his white ropes shot all over your tongue, neck, and chest. Your grind slowed down, your hands running down his tanned and tatted chest before he grabbed them to enlace his fingers with yours.

“Fuck…” Jimmy mumbled beneath you, groping your ass before you slightly lifted yourself to let him out. You and Jey kept your eyes on each other as you wiped the creamy corner of your mouth with your thumb, slipping it in your mouth as you moaned from his salty and yummy taste.

“That was so…” you breathed out with a lazy giggle as Jimmy snuck up behind you, his hand grabbing your throat as it slithered up to your chin to lift, kissing below your jaw and making your eyes flutter.

“You were squirtin’ like crazy…” he mumbled, his fingers sliding down your back and ass as he found your soaked folds to scoop the leftovers.

“You need a break?” Jey chuckled, pecking you on the lips, Jimmy’s audible sucks as he licked his fingers millimeters away from your ear.

“Break?” you asked, eyes still low from that wild, euphoric orgasm.

“She thought we were done with her,” Jey grinned at Jimmy as he got off the bed to grab the champagne bottle sitting on the nightstand.

“Nah…we ain’t done baby,” he growled in your ear, turning your jaw towards him as he kissed you.

“Getcho’ hands off her,” Jey kissed his teeth, bringing his eyes back to the champagne bottle to read whatever the hell he was reading.

“Hey Uce,” Jimmy called out, waiting for Jey to look as he flashed him his middle finger making you giggle.

“Yeah keep lickin’ up my cum in her mouth,” Jey snickered getting back on the bed. Jimmy kissed his teeth, pulling away from you to give you a “for real?” look.

“No you’re not, I swallowed every drop,” you whispered, softly kissing his wet lips.

“Swallowed every drop of your tasty ass too,” he mumbled, slapping your left ass cheek making you yelp. You turned to see Jey scrunching up his face at the both of you, getting back on the bed with the bottle in his hand.

“We said no fighting, right? I love both-” You quickly stopped yourself before they both chuckled at your confession.

“You what?” Jimmy teased, leaning in as he pushed you down on the bed by the throat.

“Huh?” you sarcastically asked, a needy sigh slipping from your mouth as Jey rubbed his big palms up and down your thighs, licking your stomach before he placed a soft kiss on your skin.

“We love you too,” he muttered with his little kisses, making you quiver. The cork popped off as Jimmy opened the bottle, taking a big chug of it as dribbles fell down his bearded chin.

“We drinking champagne now?” you asked as Jimmy ran his hand over his beard. He hovered over your side as he rubbed your belly, making it sink in with nerves.

“Yeah, we drinkin’” he looked into your eyes as he licked his lips, pouring some of the champagne over your stomach. It dripped down over your belly button, inching closer and closer to your pussy before Jey caught it with his tongue, licking every drop as he slid his tongue back up to your chest, squeezing your breasts in his warm hands.

“Mmmm,” you softly moaned as he dragged his tongue up your neck and on your lips making you taste the champagne.

“Happy birthday,” he mumbled, your tongues escaping your mouths at the same time to lick each other. You lowly gasped as you felt more of the cold liquid pouring on your stomach as Jimmy groped your right breast, flattening his tongue on your soaked skin, noisily sucking and drinking it all. Jimmy started taking the rest of his clothes off as Jey laid down next to you, turning you on your side. You watched Jimmy’s v-line fully expose itself as he dropped down his jeans and boxers, his pretty, brown, long dick springing up.

“Mmm,” you pressed your lips together with a sinister smile looking back up at him as he smirked, stroking himself with one hand.

“Mhm,” he hummed right back as you felt Jey’s fingers brush your neck as he pushed your hair back to expose your skin, leaving a soft kiss on your neck as he dragged his other palm down your side, gripping your hip. Jimmy cupped your jaw, his thumb ever so slowly pulling your bottom lip. He kept his deep, piercing brown eyes on yours as he lowered his head a tiny bit, a long string of spit falling directly on the top of his dick. Your mouth parted with a slightly audible moan as Jey slid his tip between your cheeks, dragging it further down to tease your wet hole.

“Stick out that tongue…” Jimmy deeply instructed as your eyes moved from the sloppy stroke of his hand to his eyes as you obeyed. You stuck out your entire tongue as he tapped the tip on it a couple of times before he slowly, torturously slid half of his length along your tongue.

“Just like that baby…get it wet for me,” he breathed out with a little groan as you swirled your tongue around the tip once he pulled it back a little. You sloppily kissed his shaft causing him to twitch on your tongue. Jey nuzzled his head in your hair as you felt him firmly grope your left ass cheek, slightly lifting it up as he dragged his tip between your ass cheeks again.

“You want this dick baby?” he growled, sliding his tip up and down your slippery, messy entrance.

“Yes…” you whined. Your left foot dragged along the top of his tatted leg, desperately pushing your ass back at him to grope it the way you liked. Jimmy laid on your other side as you were surrounded by their warm, tatted bodies.

“Happy birthday…” Jimmy cooed as his lips brushed over yours. A long, high pitched moan escaped your mouth as Jey slowly slipped the tip of his length inside of you, Jimmy taking that opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth. You both cradled each others faces as you sloppily made out, Jey’s strokes picking up pace as his length easily slid in and out of your wet hole.

“Oh my god,” you whined as you felt every long inch of his shaft fill up your walls that contracted around him.

“This pretty pussy stay liking this dick huh bae?” he growled in your ear as he hooked his arm under your leg, opening more room for him to pile drive his dick inside of you. You couldn’t think straight as you felt your body ignite with pleasure, the sounds of Jey’s balls slapping against your skin overriding the audible slippery strokes of Jimmy’s dick.

“F-Fuuuuuck…” you whimpered as Jey grabbed your throat from behind, tightly gripping on your jaw as he tilted it up allowing Jimmy to swirl his tongue down your neck.

“Yeah…take this dick baby,” Jey groaned in between his heavy pants as he buried himself inside of you, Jimmy’s tongue now gliding up, down, and around your right nipple. He enclosed his lips around your nipple as he fiercely sucked and noisily lapped his tongue at the same frantic pace Jey pile drove his dick inside you. Your breast audibly popping in and out of Jimmy’s mouth as long strings of saliva connected your nipple with his lips at every loud, popping suck.

“Sh-shit,” you moaned as Jey slowed his strokes down, tauntingly reminding you of his gentle thrusts from that late night in his room.

“This what she like…nice and slow,” he mumbled as he almost pulled his entire length out from your slippery, dripping hole. He tauntingly dipped his tip back in, his entire length throbbing inside of you as Jimmy’s wet, saliva stained lips met your parted ones.

“She does huh?” Jimmy purred against your tongue, his long fingers shakily sliding down your stomach and over your clit, his middle finger criminally yet slowly massaging it in circles. You pulled on Jimmy’s chain as your tongues sloshed with the other, your other hand gripping on his wrist to keep his finger connected with your clit. You felt dizzy, your eyes could barely stay open from their touches sending you into a euphoric frenzy. You felt a sudden rush down your spine, your lower belly boiled with warm flutters as your moans heightened even louder making Jimmy groan against your mouth, quickly staining all corners of your mouth with his saliva as his teeth pulled on your bottom lip.

“You gon’ cum baby?” he muttered, his hand picking up pace as he sloppily twisted and circled his palm up, down, and around his shaft as he watched you in pure bliss.

“Yesyesyes fuck,” you gasped as you felt the tip of Jey’s dick hit your g spot, your walls uncontrollably spasming around his length. You could tell they both were about to nut too as Jimmy’s pants escalated, Jey’s deep groans grew louder in your ear, and your high pitched cries filled the room as you felt shockwaves explode throughout your body once Jimmy rubbed his drizzling tip over your clit.

“Fuck…yeah baby cum on my dick just like that,” Jey deeply moaned as he thrusted one last time inside of you, his warm seed spilling and filling your walls as you watched Jimmy’s white, creamy ropes shoot in his palm and dribble down his shaft and onto his thighs. You all laid there for what felt like another minute, panting, sweating, and chests glistening and heaving from this unexpected, insane threesome.

“Oh my god…” you breathed out, tiredly reaching behind to tangle your fingers in Jey’s hair.

“Best birthday or what?” Jimmy playfully asked with a chuckle, slightly sitting up on his elbows as his low eyes peered up and down your naked body. You licked your lips, your mouth watering at Jimmy’s milky mess.

“The best…” you smirked, turning over to inch closer to his dick as he swiped your hair back from the side of your face. He held your hair up for you as you licked up his creamy cum, making him pleasurably curse under his shaky breath. You gasped as you felt Jey’s tongue spread open your cheeks to lick you clean of your own nectar.

“Come here,” Jimmy whispered as he pulled you in with the same hand that cradled your face to passionately kiss you. He shot you a wink when you both pulled back making you giggle as Jey loudly slapped your ass again.

“Oh fuck the party!” you covered your mouth as you sat back up, realizing you three were up in your room way longer than you expected. You were surprised no one came knocking on the door looking for you, especially Jasmine. But she definitely learned her lesson from earlier in the night.

“Whatchu’ mean?” Jimmy kissed his teeth, getting up on his own knees to move your bangs out of your face.

“She talkin’ about the party downstairs,” Jey chuckled, gripping your hips from behind as he trailed little kisses across your shoulders.

“Nah…they can wait. We ain’t done with you yet.”

✧✧✧✧✧

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