#this time i am really trying i am doing all the prep reading i am in that library every damn day

[aerithisms]

one thing about doing my master's is it's made it very apparent how bad of a student i was in undergrad

[starkidlabs]

Haha I should not have read my mums texts

[javiscigarette]

Silent Night

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You’re home for the holidays and Joel isn't gonna let a drinking contest or a house full of people stop him.

Warnings: PWP ofc, established relationship, mentions of drinking/alcohol, having to keep quiet?, oral (f&m receiving), thigh grinding, creampie, breeding kink, come play, getting caught, I think that's all lmk if I missed anything

w/c: 6.6k

a/n: hiii everyone! I am in fact alive! I'm finally on break from school and this is just a lil something I wrote real quick bc I've been in the holiday spirit since before October even ended hehehe :) Anyway, thank u to the actual loml @undrthelights for beta reading and finding the perfect pics!! It's nice to be back! Please leave a comment letting me know if you liked it, support is what keeps writers going!! Love u all!!

my masterlist

Your hips grind a little harder against his thigh, a soft sight falling from your lips as he licks and sucks at the spot under your ear that drives you absolutely wild. “I don't think I can be quiet” you whisper, gasping softly when his tongue swipes over your pulse.  "You can" he mumbles against the side of your neck, the vibrations of his voice and his warm breath against your skin sending burning hot sparks down your spine. “You can do whatever I ask, can’t you baby?”

You can hear them downstairs, muffled sounds of Joel and several other of your family members talking and laughing while they sip on the fancy whiskey that your dad was saving for the occasion. You opted out of it, quickly taking up the offer of the first hour or two of alone time you’ve had since you arrived at your parents house two days ago instead. You figured Joel could use the time too, talking with your dad and uncles and cousins about whatever men talk about when they’re doing whiskey tasting in the mancave of a basement. 

You managed to avoid getting roped into watching a shitty Hallmark Christmas movie with the rest of your family or helping them prep for the big dinner tomorrow. After successfully sneaking away to your old childhood bedroom that’s now redecorated as a simple guest room, you're left with nothing to do besides relax. First up was a long shower with the water so hot you nearly scalded your skin, and now you’re cozied up in bed, nose buried deep in the middle of your book while the rest of the house buzzed with muted background noise. 

Time passes without you noticing, too engrossed in your book to keep track, but eventually the bedroom door creaks open, pulling you back to reality. You’re about to tell off whoever is at the door for interrupting you, but you immediately soften when Joel slips inside, quietly closing the door behind him. 

He looks so sweet, wrapped up in a thick dark brown sweater, his curls flopping over his forehead, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose with a lopsided smile. His eyes are soft, warm, and a bit glassy as he looks at you like you’re the best thing he ever did see.

"Think your dad is trying to kill me" he says, his words slurring just a bit as he crosses the room over to the bed.

You giggle, watching him plop down on the bed on his back, his head rolling over to look at you, "Are you surprised? He does this to you every year."

It's true, every holiday at your parents house, your dad insists on the whiskey "tasting", which is really just him pouring heavy handed shots and glasses and seeing who's going to be the last one to tap out. Usually it's just him and his brothers in the end, hashing out some decades old sibling rivalry in the form of a drinking contest. And ever since the first time you brought Joel home for the holiday five years ago, your father has insisted on dragging him down there and challenging him too.

The first year was the worst with Joel not heeding any of your warnings about how much liquor your dad would actually push on him. Joel was so sick by the end of the night that he made best friends with the toilet and passed out on the couch, then spent most of the next morning with a massive hangover, apologizing profusely to your dad about it who just laughed and said that he can try again next year.

Thankfully, Joel knows his limits now and has made peace with the fact that he'll never beat your dad at his own game. It doesn't mean that the challenge doesn't still stand.

"No" he mumbles, a dopey smile spreading across his face, "Guess I jus' never expect him to pour shots big enough to knock out a horse"

"How many did you have this time?" You ask, bookmarking your place in the book before setting it aside, sitting up a little straighter and adjusting the pillows behind your back.

"Jus' three."

"Oh, so you are  just a lightweight then?"

"I'm not a fuckin' lightweight" he grumbles with a dramatic pout. 

You laugh as you turn to lay on your side, propping yourself up on your elbow. Your hand instinctively falls to his hair, a small content sigh falling from his lips as your fingertips skate across his hairline and glide through his soft curls.  scooting closer to him and reaching down to run your fingers through his hair, "Okay, baby" you hum, smiling when his eyes fall shut as your nails gently scratch his scalp, "If you say so."

Joel melts under your touch, like a cat basking in the sun, a lazy little grin on his face and a dreamy, far off look in his eyes. His face is still flushed, the tips of his ears and the tops of his cheeks a rosy shade of pink, his lips slightly parted, a few more stray curls falling across his forehead. He looks absolutely gorgeous, and the soft, tender look in his eyes when he finally looks back up at you melts you from the inside out.

You cup the side of his face in your hand and ;ean in to press a lingering kiss to his forehead. "You're so cute when you're drunk" you murmur, moving kissing his cheek.

"M'not drunk"

You pull back to look him in the eye, smiling, "Sure you're not"

"I'm not" he whines, "M'just a lil' tipsy."

"Alright" you hum, pressing a quick kiss to his pouty lips.

Joel follows your mouth with the softest whine when you start to pull back, his large hand cupping the back of your head, holding you still while he kisses you, needy, but still so sweet. The taste of whiskey is heavy on his tongue as it slides against yours, a soft, satisfied noise rumbling in his chest when you part your lips further, kissing him deeper. 

When he finally lets you break the kiss, you're left just a little breathless and dazed, a giddy feeling swirling low in your belly. His pupils are blown when he looks up at you, his lips spit slick and plump, a lopsided smile on his face. He turns a little more on his side facing you, his fingers fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt until his hand slips easily underneath like it was meant to be there. The warmth of his palm smoothing up and down the curve of your spine is soothing, his fingers gently tracing over your ribs and the dip of your waist, the slight scratch of his calluses over your skin sending a shiver down your spine.

His eyes are half-lidded as he stares at your lips, licking his own. Realistically, you knew exactly what was going to happen as soon as he entered the bedroom. You know how he gets when he's like this, soft, sweet, and incredibly needy. With all the amount of times he tugged you into a bar bathroom after he's had a few, or when Tommy drops him off after a night out and he's already halfway to undressing you before the front door even shuts. You know he's trouble like this, but you can never deny him when he's looking at you like that, like you're the only thing he needs, the only thing he's ever needed.

He leans in to kiss you again, slow and sweet, his fingers splaying on your lower back and keeping you close. His mouth moves languidly against yours, the tip of his tongue tracing your bottle lip and his teeth sinking in the slightest bit to nip and tug, pulling a desperate little sound out from the back of your throat. 

He sighs at the small sound and starts to lean into you more, using his weight to roll you over until you're flat on your back with him hovering above you, his forearms on either side of your head with his knees bracketing your hips. The kisses grow hungrier, wetter, more insistent, his mouth moving against yours like he's trying to breathe the very air from your lungs. 

He shifts a bit and you moan softly into his mouth when his thigh slots between yours, the firm muscle of his thigh pushing right up against the apex of your thighs, the perfect amount of pressure to make heat spark and smolder in your belly. He does it again, rocking his thigh up against you just a little harder, swallowing the needy whimper that you let out, the heat and friction making you ache. 

You can’t help but grind against his thigh, the seam of your sweatpants pressing against the damp spot that’s already forming on your panties and digging into your clit just right. You’re chasing the growing pleasure, the firmness of his thigh and the intoxicating taste of whiskey on his soft lips mixed with the faint trace of his peppermint toothpaste. You’d give anything to have him, for him to take you, but the sounds of laughter and chatter coming from downstairs is a rude reminder of reality. 

"Joel" you warn with absolutely no heat in your voice, his lips grazing the sensitive spot under your ear, "We can't.”

He ignores you for a beat, crashing his lips back on yours and kissing you until he needs to come up for air. 

"We can" he says, his voice gravelly and thick with want, the deep rumble vibrating in his chest. "We're bein' real quiet"

His lips trail across the line of your jaw and up your cheek before landing on your mouth again. The slow, lazy drag of his tongue against yours makes you throb, another soft when escaping you and the muscles in your legs and stomach tightening as you make no effort to stop moving against his thigh. 

“Everyone will hear us” you try feebly, knowing it’s futile. 

Joel smirks against your lips, the bastard. “Nah. I’ll be quiet.” 

You know he's a damn liar and a bad one at that. In what world could you be quiet with his hands and mouth on you, with his thick cock buried deep inside you, stretching you out and filling you up so good that your toes curl? And in what world could he be quiet, not running his mouth about how good you feel, how pretty you look stuffed full of him, how well you take him. You know exactly how it'll go, if the numerous failed previous attempts are anything to go by.

But then his lips are on the side of your neck, and you're forgetting why it matters. You let your eyes fall shut as his lips press gentle, wet kisses up and down the column of your throat, the stubble on his cheeks and chin scratching and tickling in the best way. You're quickly forgetting why this was a bad idea to begin with.

Your hips grind a little harder against his thigh, a soft sight falling from your lips as he licks and sucks at the spot under your ear that drives you absolutely wild. “I don't think I can,” you whisper, gasping softly when his tongue swipes over your pulse point. 

"You can" he mumbles against the side of your neck, the vibrations of his voice and his warm breath against your skin sending burning hot sparks down your spine. “You can do whatever I ask, can’t you baby?” 

“I don’t- oh…” 

The rest of your sentence dies on the tip of your tongue as he pushes his thigh against you, grinding it up against your core in a way that has your head spinning and toes curling, the pleasure sharp and delicious as it melts into your veins. 

“That’s right” he murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You’ll do whatever I say, huh?” 

There’s a pause and when you open your eyes, his are dark, his pupils blown wide, the deep brown nearly swallowed whole. His hair is tousled and curlier than ever, a few loose strands hanging in his face. His lips are slightly parted, swollen, red, and sick and shiny from your kisses. He’s an absolute sight and you can’t help but nod, eager to do whatever he wants, whatever he asks, because god it’s always worth it. 

His eyes crinkle a bit at the corners and the lopsided smirk on his face widens. He’s the fucking devil. 

Just the thought of him taking you with the rest of the house full of your extended family is making your veins buzz, excitement bubbling low in your belly. But you're well aware of just how thin the walls are and how nosy some members of your family are and you can't fathom how awkward it would be to come down for breakfast the next morning after the whole house heard you getting absolutely railed.

"It’ll be okay" he assures, reading your thoughts, his hands slipping under your shirt again. The fabric bunches up over his wrists as he slides his palms up your torso to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. "M’not gonna let anyone else hear you. Just me."

Fuck.

His simple words are enough to convince you, not that you needed much convincing in the first place. He had you wrapped around his finger and him around yours, and there was no way you were going to say no to what you know will come next. A jolt of electricity shoots down your spine and settles hot and heavy in the pit of your stomach. Your resolve breaks, your legs falling open further, letting him get even closer, and Joel lets out a soft, happy noise against your mouth.

"Atta girl" he hums, his voice rough and deep, "So good for me, aren't ya baby?"

"Always" you manage to reply, the word more of a sigh as you arch your back, his thumb teasing your nipple until it's pebbled and hard.

He gives into you easily, tugging your shirt up and over your head. His mouth lands on your chest as soon as it’s exposed, immediately licking and kissing across your collarbones and the swell of your breast. He noses along the valley between them, the coarse hair of his beard tickling your skin and making you giggle. You can feel him grinning against your skin before he nips and sucks at the supple flesh until a red mark rises to the surface. 

You squirm beneath him, his leg still nestled perfectly between yours and pressing against you every time he shifts. The pressure is building in your gut, your clit aching and throbbing. The feeling is almost too much with his hot wet mouth now wrapped around your nipple, his tongue swirling around the stiff peak making it harder and harder for you to keep quiet. 

“Joel,” you hiss, the word half warning and half plea. 

“Hush, baby” he mumbles against your skin. His fingers replace his mouth, pinching and teasing your swollen, spit-slick nipple as he kisses across your chest to lavish your other nipple with the same attention. 

“Gotta be quiet, remember?” he says when he pulls back, releasing your nipple with a wet pop. “Unless you want everyone hearin’ ya” 

You open your mouth to say something in protest, to tell him that he’s making things a lot harder right now, but then he starts moving, sliding down the bed and the words die in your throat. The look he gives you as he settles on his stomach between your thighs is sinful, his eyes dark and mischievous, his lips pulled up into a smirk. 

He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweats, slowly pulling them along with your panties down your legs, leaving you completely bare. Your stomach swoops at the sight of his eyes trained to your center and your thighs twitch, wanting to snap shut and hide. But his hands on both of your thighs keep you spread open for him. You swallow thickly, your breath catching in your throat, the anticipation building in the pit of your belly as your slick starts to drip down the cleft of your ass. 

Joel’s mouth falls open slightly, a shaky breath escaping him. “Fuck, baby” he sighs, tongue darting out to lick his cherry red lips, his eyes glazing over. A small, content smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, a swell of pride blossoming in your chest. He looks wrecked, like a starving man eyeing his first meal, and the way he's looking at you so intently, like you're the best thing he's ever seen, the thing that's kept him alive all these years, is making your heart pound almost painfully in your chest. 

“Fucking gorgeous,” he praises, his hand running along the inside of your thigh. “And all mine.” 

Like he can’t wait another second, he’s leaning in and licking a long, wet stripe up your center, dragging his tongue through your folds from your leaking hole to your swollen, needy clit. The feeling of his tongue on you pulls a soft, broken sound from you. You clap your hand over your mouth as your head spins, a rush of pleasure washing over you making the muscles in your thighs and stomach twitch and flex. 

He does it again and again, and every time his tongue flicks over the swollen bud, you let out a soft whine that sounds far too loud in the otherwise quiet room.

He groans against you, his mouth already wet and messy as he laps at your pussy like he's starving for it, like he would die without tasting you. His eyes are locked on yours, the look in them so dark and primal that it makes your walls clench, more slick freely leaking out of you and onto his tongue. He laps it up happily, his fingers digging into your hips, holding you steady as his mouth works your clit.

He lets out a quiet, breathy moan when you slide your hand through his hair once again, your fingers tangling in and pulling on the soft brown strands. His eyes flutter shut, a shuddery exhale falling from his parted lips, and the feeling of his warm breath fanning over your wet, sensitive center has you stifling another high pitched whimper.

You roll your hips up against his face, desperate for more, and he gets the hint, the flat of his tongue swiping up through your folds a few more times before he dips it into your entrance, pushing in and out while his nose nudges at your clit. You're writhing beneath him, tugging at his hair, trying so hard to be quiet but failing miserably, soft, desperate little noises pouring out of your mouth. You know he's loving it too, making no effort to keep your noises at bay, not giving a single fuck about who might hear.

He moans against your cunt, the vibrations making you jolt, your hips rolling up to meet him. You're panting, the hand that isn't buried in his hair gripping the sheets tight enough that your knuckles turn white, and your back arches when his tongue fucks in and out of you faster, rougher.

"Joel, fuck" you gasp, "I- I'm-

He growls, the sound muffled by your pussy, the vibrations and the feeling of his stubble dragging along your inner thighs making your toes curl, the familiar coil in your belly tightening, your thighs trembling.

He doubles down, bringing a hand between your legs to replace his tongue with two thick fingers sinking into you and curling up against that spot inside you that has you seeing stars, his tongue circling your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you, his mouth and hand working in tandem to pull you apart.

"Fuck, I'm close" you whimper, his fingers crooking against that spot inside of you, sending white hot fire coursing through your veins as your slick leaks down his fingers and into his palm like hot honey. 

He hums, sucking your clit between his lips, and your legs clamp around his head, your hand tightening in his hair as your orgasm crashes over you, your back arching off the mattress, a muffled, broken moan spilling out from behind your hand. He fucks you through it, his tongue flattening out against your clit while the tips of his fingers rub against that sweet spot inside of you, sending more sparks of pleasure tingling up and down your spine.

When it's too much, when the sensitivity makes tears prick in the corners of your eyes, you make a feeble attempt to push him away. He pulls back, sitting up on his knees, his chin and cheeks wet with your slick, his pupils blown so wide that the brown is almost completely swallowed up by black. He stares at you, his gaze so heavy and intense that it makes another shiver run down your spine.

"You're not being very quiet" he smirks as he moves off the bed to stand up.

You roll your eyes, still coming down from the aftershocks, your thighs quivering, "Yeah, no shit" you mutter, propping yourself up on your elbows.

He chuckles as he pulls off his sweater and the t-shirt underneath it before he starts unbuckling his belt and working on his jeans. You sit up, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed, reaching out and batting his hands away, taking over and quickly unfastening the button and pulling the zipper down.

He doesn't protest, letting you push his jeans and boxers down his legs until he kicks them all the way off. Your mouth waters at the sight of his thick, hard cock hanging heavy between his legs, flushed a deep red with slippery precum beading at the tip. You reach out, wrapping your hand around the base and taking a moment or two to revel in the familiar weight and warmth of him in your hand.

He shudders, a low moan rumbling in his chest, his eyes slipping shut as his hand moves to cup the back of your head. He watches you intently as you take your time, lazily stroking him, rubbing the pad of your thumb over the leaking tip and tracing the throbbing veins that run along the sides. His breathing grows heavy, his jaw clenching and his stomach muscles twitching as he tries so hard not to buck his hips up into the loose circle of your fist.

"C'mon, sweetheart" he pleads, the words leaving his mouth as a low, breathless groan, "Get me all nice and wet for you."

He doesn't have to ask twice. You lean forward and you dart your tongue out to lap up the bead of precum, humming at the salty, bitter taste of it, swirling the flat of your tongue over the head of his cock, your hand pumping the rest of his shaft. His breath catches in his throat, a stuttered curse falling from his lips when you dip your tongue into the slit, teasing more precum out.

He groans, his grip on the back of your head tightening, urging you to take him into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. You sink down, flattening your tongue and taking him all the way until he hits the back of your throat, the tip of his cock brushing against the roof of your mouth. You breathe through your nose, hollowing your cheeks, swallowing around him, and the deep, guttural groan that he lets out has you squirming, slick leaking out of your cunt and onto the sheets below.

"There ya go" he pants, his head lolling back, "Oh, baby, that's it. S'fuckin' perfect."

You pull off, a string of spit and precum connecting his cock to your bottom lip, and you look up at him through your lashes.

"Need to be quiet" you remind him, "Or else I'll stop"

He lets out a shaky breath and nods, swallowing hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He's not used to keeping quiet, not used to not telling you how good you feel, not used to not begging you to let him cum in that low, raspy tone that never fails to make you weak.

"I'll be good," he whispers, breathless and needy. "Promise."

Your stomach swoops at his words, arousal burning bright in your belly. Unable to stay away for much longer, you lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the head of his cock. His hips jerk, another drop of precum leaking out. You lick it up, swirling your tongue around the sensitive, swollen tip before sinking down again. You take him into the wet heat of your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around him, bobbing your head slowly and steadily.

He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood trying with all his might to keep his noises in as you drool all over his cock. He can't take his eyes off you, watching the way he disappears into the slick heat of your mouth. You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around him, spit dripping down his cock and leaking out the corners of your mouth while your eyes water as you take him as far as you can.

You take him deeper, and you swallow, your throat convulsing around him, and the way his whole body shudders makes you smile, proud of the effect you have on him. He's so big and thick, and you both know you can't fit him all the way down your throat, but seeing you try your best is enough to make his thighs start to shake. 

His cock hits the back of your throat again and again, the tip dipping into the soft, warm, tight space, and Joel's breathing is getting heavier and faster, his jaw clenched and his eyebrows knitted together.

"Shit" he grits out under his breath, "That's it, sweetheart. That's fuckin' it."

The praise goes straight between your legs, a fresh wave of slick leaking out of you and it's too tempting to resist, so you slip your hand between your thighs and rub circles around your clit, moaning softly around his cock.

He hisses, his eyes snapping down, watching your hand disappear between your legs.

"Are you touchin' yourself?" he asks, the words coming out rough and choked, his eyebrows raised.

You nod, sliding a finger into yourself, and you pull off his cock, panting, a thin strand of spit connecting the head to your bottom lip.

"Can't help it" you whine pathetically, your voice already raspy from how far his cock had been down your throat.

Joel groans, his dick twitching, and he's had enough. He takes a step back, and you let go, a little confused and worried that you've done something wrong. But he just takes hold of your arms and yanks you off the bed, his strong hands easily manhandling you, and then he's pushing you, turning you around and bending you over the side of the mattress.

"Oh" you breathe out, bracing yourself on your forearms, arching your back, sticking your ass up in the air.

You don't have to wait long for him to move. His hand is smoothing over your ass, the other one guiding his cock towards your sopping cunt. He teases the tip between your folds, spreading your slick and dragging his head over your swollen clit a few times before lining himself up and sinking in.

You bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep quiet, letting out a stuttering breath, the familiar, delicious burn of his thick cock stretching you out making your eyes roll back into your head. You've made peace with the face that you'll never be used to his size. It'll always be too much, the feeling of him pushing into, forcing your walls to make room for him will always make you clench and shiver.

He's got his hands on your hips, holding you steady as he bottoms out, his hips flush with the curve of your ass with the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix. He holds himself there for a moment, both of you adjusting to the feeling, and you're trying so hard not to moan, to keep your noises muffled by the mattress, and you know Joel's struggling too, his jaw clenched tight and his brow furrowed.

"Good girl" he whispers, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips, "Taking my cock so well, aren't ya?"

You nod, whimpering, your fingers twisting in the sheets.

He pulls back and thrusts back in, setting a steady, slow rhythm, the wet slide of his cock making the most obscene sounds. And it's driving you crazy, the need to let out loud, your chest burning with the effort of keeping your noises in. He keeps his pace slow, not wanting to make more noise with his hips snapping against your ass. It’s nearly tortuous though, the drag of his cock in and out of you so slow that you can feel every ridge as he takes his sweet time. You can only handle it for a few moments before the tingling hints of pain from the stretch subside and the burning need for him to fuck you senseless takes over.

"Joel" you whine, "Faster, please."

He leans over you, his front pressed against your back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "You're not gonna stay quiet if I do," he says, his voice deep and gravelly, "Just take what I give you, sweetheart."

You're so worked up, the slow pace makes you even more desperate for him, and you can't help it, you need more, and you reach a hand back and grab his hip, urging him to speed up.

"I-I'll try" you promise, "Please, just- Just fuck me, Joel, please"

He hesitates, but the way you're squirming beneath him is so tempting, and the way his cock is throbbing and dripping inside of you is telling him that he needs more too.

Before you can say anything else, he's pulling back, the thick, heavy weight of him sliding out of you. You whimper at sudden empty feeling but you don't have time to complain before he's flipping you over onto your back and scooting you up the bed before climbing on top of you. You can’t help but notice how big he is, the muscles flexing smoothly in his strong arms that box you in as he hovers above you, nearly encompassing your entire body underneath his. His mouth is on yours before you can even blink, his tongue slipping past your lips and kissing you like his life depends on it.

He settles between your legs, his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs, his cock dragging along your clit again warm and heavy, and you gasp, the sound swallowed by his mouth. You're squirming again, desperate to feel him stretch you out more and he takes mercy on you, reaching between your bodies and grabbing the base of his cock, guiding the thick head towards your entrance.

"Gotta be quiet, baby" he warns, his eyes boring into yours as he looks down at you. "Those pretty noises are just for me, yeah? Can't have anyone hearin' 'em."

You nod frantically and the next second he's pushing in, the fat head of his cock forcing its way into you and bottoming out in one smooth motion. You let out a gasp that's definitely too loud but Joel is quick to remedy it, his hand coming up to cover your mouth, his fingers splaying across your cheek.

"Shh" he shushes you, his hips rolling, the slow, lazy drag of his cock against your walls making you clench around him. Your eyes roll back, your back arching as his hand stops all the whiny little sounds you can't help but make. He continues to fuck you slow and deep, his cock sliding in and out of your soaking wet cunt, the filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing softly in the room.

You can't take your eyes off him, watching his eyes squeeze shut, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing as he fucks you, his brows knitted together and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. He looks beautiful like this, sweat glistening on his skin, his jaw tight, and his eyes shut tight, his mouth hanging open with his breaths coming out in soft, barely audible pants.

"Mmm" he hums, his hips picking up speed, his cock pushing impossibly deeper. "You feel so fuckin' good, baby. Fuck."

You reflexively clench around him and a shudder runs through his whole body.

"Gettin' real tight" he pants, "Tryna milk the cum right outta me, huh? Tryna make me fill up that pretty pussy?"

You whimper into his palm, your pussy fluttering, a fresh wave of slick coating his cock, and he groans, his hips picking up speed.

"S'what you want?" he asks in a hushed tone, his hand still pressed firmly over your mouth. "You want me to fill you up? Make a mess of that pretty pussy? Breed you until you're fuckin' stuffed, baby girl?"

Your back arches off the bed, the coil in your belly so tight that you think you might pass out. He's rambling, his thrusts losing rhythm, his breathing getting ragged and choppy, his chest heaving and his thighs shaking.

"That's it" he coaxes when you tighten around him even more, "Can feel it, can feel how close you are. Go on, baby, cum on my cock. Wanna feel that tight, wet cunt cum all over my cock, please, baby."

His hips snap forward, his cock pushing deep into you, the tip rubbing against the spongy spot deep inside you that makes the coil in your belly finally snap. Your eyes roll back, a muffled, broken moan falling from your lips as your entire body convulses, your orgasm washing over you and making your toes curl as your walls flutter around his cock buried to the hilt inside of you.

Joel lets out a deep, low groan, his hips stuttering as he fucks you through your orgasm. His hand slips away from your mouth so he can grip your hips with both hands, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, holding you in place so he can chase after his own release. His chest is tight as he holds in his grunts and groans, but it’s barely any use with the lewd noises that fill the room as your pussy gushes around him, your slick leaking past the tight seal of your walls around him and dripping down to his balls. 

"Oh, shit, baby. Christ,” he chokes out, his stomach muscles clenching as his hips slam into yours, his cock pushing impossibly deeper and harder. “Keep makin’ a mess, keep lettin’ me feel it. That’s it. Fuckin’ hell.” 

You can feel his cock starting to throb inside of you and you know he’s close. And you can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth, the need to let him know just how good he’s making you feel is destroying any bit of common sense. 

“Want you to fill me up,” you whine. “Please, Joel, wanna feel it.” 

That’s all it takes. His jaw clenches, his nose scrunching as his eyes squeeze shut. His cock twitches and pulses as he buries himself as deep as he can get before spilling into, filling you with thick, hot ropes of his cum. His hips jerking and stuttering d you clench around him, squeezing and milking him for everything he has while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his broken, ragged moans against your skin.

"So good,” he whimpers. “Fuckin’ perfect.” 

The praise goes straight between your legs and you wrap your arm around his shoulders, trying to pull him closer. He lifts his head, his palm resting on your cheek as he lifts his head and presses his lips against yours, kissing you languidly. His hips rock back and forth lazily, pushing his cum in as deep as he can get it. You melt into the bed underneath him, the only things keeping you tethered to the earth being your fingers combing through his hair and your legs tightening around his waist.

When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, and you're both left panting, trying to catch your breath. You listen to the muffled sounds of people downstairs, the movie playing and their drunken voices filtering in through the door, and Joel must be thinking the same thing because he chuckles.

"Well" he says, his thumb rubbing back and forth over your cheekbone, "I don't think anyone heard us."

"You better hope they didn't" you retort, a grin on your face. Joel rolls his eyes. "That's a weird way to say thank you" he teases. You start to laugh, but the sound dies in your throat, morphing to a whimper instead when he starts pulling out his softening cock.

"Joel" you whine, but he doesn't stop. "Joel, please. It's-"

He's not listening, he's too focused on the way his cock looks when he pulls out. The tip slips out of you, and the rest follows, and his eyes widen as he watches a string of thick, sticky cum stretch from the tip of his cock to your cunt. It breaks, falling to your thigh, and he licks his lips. He can't tear his eyes away, watching the way your cunt flutters, and his cum starts to drip out, running down your slit, the obscene sight making Joel's spent cock twitch. 

"Shit" he mutters under his breath, "Ain't that a pretty picture."

He reaches down, dragging a finger through the mess of cum and slick and gathering it on his finger before pushing it back into your cunt. You clench around the digit before he sighs and pulls it back out.

"Gonna be leaking all day tomorrow" he murmurs, almost to himself.

You whimper, the thought of having him dripping out of you all day like that has renewed arousal already seeping into your veins. 

“It’s okay” he assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take care ya. Clean you up and put my cock back in right where it belongs, how’s that sound, hm?” 

You sigh, nodding, a wave of fatigue washing over you. “Sounds perfect,” you agree. 

You watch as he climbs off of you and starts to move, but a sudden, sharp sound of knuckles knocking on the other side of the bedroom door makes you both freeze. 

“You two are fucking disgusting!” the voice of your cousin calls out, accompanied by the sound of a couple other people giggling and laughing. “Put some goddamn clothes on and get down here!” 

You and Joel exchange glances, his eyes wide and apologetic, his cheeks burning bright red as you give him a look that says I told you so. 

“Alright, alright, we’re coming” he yells back. 

“We’re coming! Oh, yeah we’re coming!” another voice teases, the sound of everyone bursting out laughing quickly follows. 

“We’re never doing that again” Joel mutters and you can’t help but chuckle. 

“Yeah right. Keep telling yourself that”

Thank you for reading!!! Plsss let me know if you enjoyed hehehe

[hypnogirl-cd]

A funny little thing

CW: hypnotic language, trance ahead! Read with caution.

This side of tumblr is so funny. We all log on to this site looking for trance or to be dropped. It’s like we really prime ourselves for it.

I get on here and just start to scroll. Mindlessly scroll. Down my timeline, just hoping to stumble upon a post that makes feel all fuzzy and trancey

I scroll past the nice pretty flashing spirals and other gifs that catch my eye. Maybe I stare a little longer hoping that this is the one that really makes me sink

I keep scrolling. Mindlessly going down my timeline reading all of the pretty words. Hoping that one of the posts catches me and drags me deep down into  trance.

I might stare at a post, imagining what it would feel like to go blank and empty as I read the pretty words. I might let out a sigh and pretend that I’m sinking ever deeper with each word.

Hoping that if I drop a like, the tist will reach out to me and drop me further and further down

My mind starts to get all fuzzy with excitement. Maybe their entire blog is a special covert trance. Scrolling through each post might pull me deeper and deeper under and I might start to feel floaty and fuzzy

I love this feeling so I scroll, deeper and deeper, more and more mindless. More and more blank. The words start to lose meaning, but following them feels so good

It feels so good to follow the words down down down as I blankly scroll. Liking all of the posts. Feeling good each time I do. Feeling like I’m obeying a special, secret command.

And each time I obey and follow it just feels so good. Am I hypnotized already? I feel so floaty already. But no one counted me down or anything? 

I keep scrolling down down down sinking deeper falling, floating, drifting along with the pretty words

The words spiral in my head like a pretty spiral I just saw. I watch it closely, feeling so floaty and lovely. So happy and comfortable. So compliant.

Then all of the sudden, I find the perfect post. I read it intently. My eyes focused on the pretty spiraling words. Already so deep down my timeline. So mindless from scrolling down, down, down

5 the fuzzy feeling intensifies 

4 I find myself easily slipping down

3 feeling so good 

2 dropping down mindlessly

1 dropping so deep

Realizing that I did this to myself and it feels so good. Feels so good to drift down deeper and deeper along each post. Feels good following the words and following the suggestions 

Dropping even deeper. Each word pulling me down. My mind already primed for trance from each post I read. Mindlessly scrolling down prepped my mind to float and drift

Drop deeper now

Deeper

Deeper

Feeling so good. Letting yourself be wrapped up in my words. It feels good to follow along. It feels good to be suggestible. It feels good follow suggestions.

Dropping down now. Floating so gently. Drifting so easily. 

I’m going to wake you shortly. When I do, you will feel so amazing. Feeling pleasure anywhere you like and if you feel comfortable, you’ll feel compelled to like this post. And when you do, you’ll feel so good. 

You may even want to reblog it so your friends can trance too. If not, that’s okay. You can still feel amazing. But if you do, it will feel incredible. 

You may even feel compelled to drop me a message. And when you do it will feel so, so nice. You may want to tell me how nice this trance made you feel. Or how you love to mindlessly scroll. If not, that’s okay, you’ll still feel amazing.  

Finally, if you feel comfortable, you may even find it easy to continue to drop for me. You’ll find it easy to slip into trance for me. Each and every time you try and drop for me, it’ll become easier and easier. But only if you’re comfortable with that. 

Feeling my words sink into your mind. Feeling so good as you float. Feeling so lovely, so amazing.

1 floating up now

2 gently rising from trance

3 feeling so good

4 compelled to follow my words, if you like

5 wide awake

Welcome back, and have a lovely time scrolling ;)

[unbearableblog]

My Christmas gift for you.

Messages (Carmen Berzatto x reader)

Summary Carmy’s actions towards the reader might eventually lead to consequences.

Word count ~2,8k

Warnings 18+, No use of Y/N (there is rarely a name but it’s just for aesthetics, you are welcome to insert your own name), action set in S2 so possible spoilers, cursing, angst, relationship problems, possible mentions of smut

A/N God this took a lot from me! Legit flew to Copenhagen haha. I am very grateful to each and every one of you who read, liked, commented or reposted and supported this! I would never think that this would happen. I hope you’re not going to crucify me over the plot. Thank you so much for waiting!

Merry Christmas everyone!

Chapter 1 (the one with departure, Denmark, and desserts)

Things were a little different at the Beef lately.

“Richie, shut the fuck up!”

“You first, child!”

Well, maybe not so different. But they certainly were different with you. Amongst the neverending screaming, cursing, and fighting, you somehow survived getting shot at, losing the power, dealing with the IRS, and everything else that constantly went wrong with this cursed place. The amount of experience you had in this short amount of time has topped anything you've done before. You couldn't catch your breath. But that's what you do for the ones you love, right?

It's been some time since you started helping Carmen with the Beef - serving the customers on a particularly busy day, calming down Carmen, sometimes giving Richie a pep talk when he needed to keep his shit together. But mostly you just chatted with Sydney and sat in the kitchen, doing your college assignments while watching Carmen work. You could never get tired of it - he looked so professional and smart. It was his element. Well, when everything was going well.

The entire time, you were there, talking to Carmen as he prepped for the day, giving him a smile and getting one back, just watching him go on about his day and move so swiftly like a well-oiled machine. Seeing him in an apron drove you wild. You'd have to stop yourself from going up to him and touching his god-given curls or rubbing his back through his white T-shirt (but more often you failed to do so). Most of the days you patiently waited to go home and show him everything that was on your mind all day.

One time he caught you staring, mind far away from the Beef. His voice brought you back.

“Are you thinking about my fingers again?” He said while putting his arms at his hips, almost offended.

You bit your lip and looked at him with a guilty smile.

His hand went up to brush through his curls.

“You’re not gonna get any work done if you keep thinking about that. And with the way you look at me, can say the same thing about myself.”

You whine and playfully pout, not wanting to keep studying.

“Come on, princess,” he comes closer to you and whispers in your ear so that his whole voice goes through your body and his lips brush your ear “And when we get home you can tell me all about it while you sit on my ‘pretty’ cock”

Sometimes he would explain what he was doing or why things weren't going the way they were supposed to, sometimes you would share something you found fascinating in your assignment. He would always listen, even if he didn't fully understand, but you knew he was trying to. It made you feel so special - you got the whole attention of this hot 3 Michelin star chef, covered in tattoos and buff, but he looked at you with such care and softness. His muscular arms touched and wrapped around you with strong tenderness and appreciation. Sometimes you saw the same attention to the details in the food he was making - he really cared.

Everything changed after the Beef closed down.

Carmen was a little taken aback when you told him you were going to Copenhagen with Marcus. You were at the restaurant, like any other day, figuring out a thousand things that were wrong before the opening, when you heard Denmark being mentioned amongst the guys.

“Someone's going to Denmark?” you asked, turning around on your chair.

“Marcus is,” Carmen brushed off, and continued having his conversation with him.

“Wait, to Copenhagen? Why?” you felt ignored.

“Uhh, to learn everything about desserts,” Marcus answered. Carmen didn't even look in your direction.

“When? Why didn't you tell me?” you sounded excited because you were, but your heart felt like it was placed into an iron cage. Carmen knew how much that city meant to you, and to not even mention that your friend was going there felt neglectful. But maybe you were overreacting - he was probably busy, he doesn't have to tell you everything, and it surely wasn't for long anyway.

Berzatto shrugged his shoulders. “Why? It's just for some time.”

“I was actually thinking about going there too. I haven't seen my sister in a while. Maybe we could fly together? I know everything there,” you were ready to help Marcus as a bonus. You really appreciated him as a friend, and returning the favor for all those delicious pastries he made at your request would be terrific. You could also use a fucking break from Chiberia.

“For real? That would be awesome!” Marcus exclaimed with his arms, his smile releasing your heart from its prison.

“Uhh… yeah-yeah, sure, I guess,” Carmen squinted his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “I- uhhh, have to go out for a minute. Umm,” he swallowed “-meet that rep for me, yeah?”

An entire work shift of flying has gone by the time you started seeing the bronze-roofed houses sprinkled like decorations on a Red Velvet cake. You made Marcus promise you not to judge the country by its airport, as it usually was surprisingly dirty. Nevertheless, there were hints of what life there was like - a burst of energy, culture, and flavour. You walked what seemed like forever through the endless white halls with blue sections, wondering how many times Carmen had been here and whether you ever crossed paths. You kind of wished he was there. Your excitement rubbed off on your friend - Marcus was beaming with happiness, anticipating your time there. He knew it was going to be life-changing.

The moment you went outside felt like you could breathe again. The weight of The Beef, Carmen, stress, problems problems problems dropped off, was left behind, and never got on the plane. Your chest wasn't encircled by snakes that only pushed until you suffocated. Your mind was clear.

You helped Marcus settle in his awesome boat, and after reading the owner's note to "keep the water in Coco's bowl", searched for the cat for like 20 minutes. Unfortunately, your efforts were fruitless.

Marcus only let you go back alone because you assured him of your safety (you gave him a speech about how it wasn't like Chicago) and experience. Still, he made you text him when you got to your sister's. The two of you were always trying to make your relationship work, but the distance didn't make it easy. That did not mean that you were going to give up - you were used to making a lot of effort for the people you love. She was ecstatic and grateful to see her little sister. The rest of the evening was spent eating, sharing your lives, and talking about your mysterious boyfriend.

“I don’t know, he’s just so… distant. He always leaves somewhere, does god knows what when he knows we don’t have much time! Sometimes it feels like I care about the restaurant more than him. Which is so weird because he was so into it before! He planned the whole thing! And I am so fucking stressed from it all! I never even wanted to work in a restaurant but I was there for him!” you expressed your pain very loudly.

“Have you thought of… breaking up with him?”

You exhale and almost completely give up mentally.

“I don’t know… it feels like we don’t have much of a relationship at all anymore. We don’t go out, all the time is spent on the opening. I swear sometimes I’m there just for our friends and his sister, I can’t just leave them without help while he’s wandering somewhere”.

You couldn’t sleep because being in bed without Carmy by your side felt plain wrong. You were also jetlagged which meant that the peaceful world of Morpheus was avoiding you like a plague. The same thing happened to Marcus, so you both were just texting about what you were doing.

“idk, i gave up and went to get some tea” you typed, a warm mug in your hand as you cozied up on the couch with a blanket.

“yeah, same shit here. bout time to get ready anyway”

Your whole house was asleep, and probably would be so for a while. It was too dark to go out for your liking. Boredom kind of crept in.

“what is it exactly u're gonna do there?”

“uhhh i wish i knew. make some things from the pics i showed u i guess”

“can i watch?” Was it too much of a request? Who even knows if you'll be allowed there?

“yeah i think so. i'd love to not have to do this alone”

You smile, finish your tea, and get up to find some clothes.

You finally reached the place and were met by a tall man in an apron. He introduced himself as Luca, and you heard a very sultry voice softened by an accent. You wondered where he was from.

“I'm Chef Marcus. That's Liv. Is it cool if she just hangs around and watches me?”

“Hi,” you smile at him.

“Hello. You could also join in. What kind of a chef are you?”

“Oh I'm not, I'm -”

“Well, with the amount of time Liv spends in our kitchen listening to every word of the CDC, I'd say she might as well be a chef by now,” Marcus only half-jokes. You give him a look anyway.

Luca prepared everything and soon he and Marcus were working. You were sitting on the other side of the table, able to see everything. Only now you were starting to notice how strong he was, you have to be, you thought, if you stay on your feet all day. His arms were also covered in tattoos that didn't seem to make sense, like Carmy's.

“So who are you?” Luca's question doesn't sound rude, just curious.

“I'm his boss' girlfriend,” you nod as you speak.

“Wow,” he seems to be thinking something, but maybe it's just him being focused on putting the peanuts on dessert, “What are you doing here?”

“Uhh, visiting my sister? It was time and I thought Marcus here could use someone to show him around. As for here, I was really jetlagged and bored.”

Luca was amazing. The way he coached Marcus even when he made mistakes was consistently calm, stern, and leading. Not once did any of you feel berated or hear his voice go louder, all you knew was to just try again. His entire presence excreted stability and equilibrium.

After an extensive lesson, it was Marcus' turn to try. All of you leaned closer to the dessert in hopes of seeing more. You held your breath as you watched Marcus carefully place a tiny piece in the clockwise direction of the dessert when in the blurred background of your vision you felt something change. Instinctively, you looked up from the dish, and your eyes met the gaze of your friend's teacher. There he was, almost lying on the table, looking at you. As if he wasn't busy right now. As if the dessert didn't matter. Hypnotized. “Got it!” Marcus smiled and stood straight up. “Great job, chef,” Luca switched back to Marcus.

Suddenly a firework of spice embraced you in its scent, making your head go round from the all-encompassing desire to taste it.

“Oh my god, are those cinnamon buns?” you had to put your hands on the counter to keep yourself up. “Yeah,” Luca stood straight. “You like them?” “They smell amazing!” you could swear you saw a quick prideful smile brush Luca's lips.

“They are her favourite. And she's very specific about'em too,” Marcus threw you under the bus.

Luca seems interested. “In what way?”

“I'm not, okay? I just believe that cinnamon buns should have a lot of sugar and cinnamon, or else they're just buns. There was this place near the park, and the pastry they sold was like 90% dough. I didn't like that at all” you defend yourself, and Marcus scoffs, having heard you rant about it many times at The Beef.

“Abomination,” Luca shakes his head.

“Exactly! I love it when there is so much sugar that it's oozing out, that's how it'd supposed to be.”

Your lighthearted banter somehow led to Luca opening up and talking about his life and experience. He also shared a couple of stories about determination, his acceptance of not being the best, and some of his failures. Soon all of you were joking around and laughing at your pasts. You felt your heart warm up to him and thought that leaving the house was a good idea.

Marcus stepped outside to check on his mom. He called her sitter as often as he could, and every time you hoped that everything would be alright. Luca was silently doing his work, kneading some dough. It was a demanding process, but so meditative, and you couldn't help but float away watching his big hands grab and squeeze the smooth dough, throwing it back onto the table occasionally, his long fingers dug into it, leaving an impression. “So where is he now?” you ask. “Who?” “The chef who was better than you. Where is he now?” you wondered if Carmen knew him or told you about him. “Well, you tell me. Apparently, opening up a new restaurant,” the chef said, as he threw a careless nod in your direction. Huh? Your heart drops. What? You let out a nervous scoff. “You're saying it was… Carmen??” Your question was met with a simple nod as he kept working. “Carmen Berzatto, the chef that was better than you at everything?” you almost spell out. Luca just takes his eyes off the dough and watches your reaction. He is also confused. “God, he really is the best?” the question sounds more like an exhale. “People keep saying it, but I guess I didn't realize” you sit down, defeated, and stare off. Your mind keeps pacing - what happened to Carmen? How did he go from being the best to being a yelling mess of chaos? Why is someone who looked up to him so calm and collected but still successful? Why can't he be like that? “You sound surprised. What, he doesn't feel like it?” He asks while kneading the dough, this time slower and a little softer. You look at him, then shake your head away and look down. You want to tell him everything about the way Carmen treats you, and how different that is from what your beginning used to be, how he doesn't appreciate you even though you spent so much time in and on The Beef, and how unfair that is, and have his deep voice tell you the answer, but you can't. That would be weird. Luca notices your hesitation. “You know, when we worked together, he would often be… difficult,” there is a pause after he says it because he is reading your face, trying to understand if he's walking on thin ice. He isn't, so he continues. “Partly why I didn't become better than him was because he wouldn't let me.” “Yeah, he shared something like that.” His brows went a little higher, and his grip on the dough hardened and stayed there. “My point is, being with a person like that can't be easy. Man, we only worked together and I already wanted to smother him, can't imagine being in a bloody relationship,” his smile makes you laugh and for a second you forget every bad thing in the world.

Later that day you wanted to call Carmen. “Carm, you free?” You wished to tell him everything - how much you loved the city, how nice his friend was, the fun you were having, and how good this was for you. Kinda wanted to beat his ass for being so mean to Luca too. “not rn, Liv, busy”

Of course.

“Olivia! Come here!” your sister screamed to get your attention. You noticed she was standing at the door, talking to somebody, so you got up and approached her. “What's up?” you asked. She closed the door and turned to you, holding something in her hands. “It's a gift from your boyfriend,” she said in a teasing tone, and you could swear that the last time you saw her that giddy was in high school. “What? How do you know?” A drop of hope celebrated its birth in your chest. “The delivery guy said it's from a chef,” the last word she playfully stretched out, so it came out a little funny, like Tina says it. You couldn't believe it. There it was, a white box carefully tied with a red ribbon. Finally Carmen realised how distracted he was and decided to apologize. Obviously, you were gone, so he missed you. Your heart filled with warmth and you smiled to yourself - you knew things would get better. You take the hefty precious gift from your sister's hands, sit on the couch, and open it with anticipation. Inside, 9 breathtaking gourmet cinnamon rolls with caramelized sugar barely fitting, leaking out of the mouthwatering, well-kneaded dough. And a note.

"You deserve all the best in the world - Luca"

I hope you enjoyed it! Part 2 might come quicker if you comment how you liked it

Snippet from the next chapters

🏷️ Tagged everyone in the comments! If you want to be excluded, just let me know♥️ @carma-fanficaddict @eternallyvenus @sia2raw @helloheyhihowdyheya @soursopsista @m1dnightsnackz @custarrds

Dividers by @saradika

[drabblesandimagines]

Imperfections

Leon Kennedy x female reader Fluffy festive nonsense

Leon squints at the small piece of paper, trying to decipher the name upon it. It’s not the handwriting he’s struggling with, more the fact he probably does need reading glasses and he hates to admit it. He looks around, making sure no-one is looking in his direction and holds it aloft, trying to find the perfect spot where the blurry squiggles will finally transform into a name.

A name he knows all too well, it turns out.

Yours.

You’ve been working for the department just shy of a year – a new recruit in February – and had been partnered with him on a fair few missions. He’d underestimated you at first, mistakeably deemed you too sweet a thing to be wrapped up in this sort of business, but you’d shown him your mettle from the off and especially when things had got dicey – held your own, got the job done, saved his ass a couple of times and all usually with that beautiful smile on your face.

God, Kennedy, he chides himself, smitten or what?

He folds up the slip of paper, sticks it in his wallet for safe-keeping and his mind begins to whirl - what in the hell is he going to get you?

Secret Santa at the DSO – a bit of holiday nonsense put forward as a suggestion to ‘boost morale’ and apparently the President had loved it, has thrown together a whole Holiday Mixer around having the exchange. Everyone working here isn’t depressed due to a lack of Christmas spirit, more the state of the world itself and the dark depths they’re forced to confront…

But, hey, Leon S Kennedy will do as he’s told as far as the President’s concerned, and so he’d stuck his hand in the Santa hat when it had been thrust in his direction, full of his colleagues’ names.

There’s rules – has to be in government-officiated fun – gifts to be exchanged at the Holiday Mixer in a week’s time and, to try and avoid an influx of gift cards and novelty socks, it must include a handmade element, with a $25 limit.

“So,” you plonk yourself down on his desk - right on a pile of manilla folders that were left there earlier for his upcoming briefing and he’d yet to tackle - and lean in, “who’d you get?”

He sweeps his hair out of his eyes and sits back a little in his chair to take you all in. “Uh-uh, that’s against the rules.” You roll your eyes at that. “And since when has Leon Kennedy been a stickler for the rules?”

“I just don’t wanna be on Santa’s naughty list.”

“Fine.” You pout, crossing your arms in fake annoyance. “I won’t tell you who I got either.”

“Good, cos I don’t remember asking... And don't make an old man joke."

“Wasn't gonna." He gives you a look and you can't help but smile. "Okay, but seriously - I get the handmade rule, I do,” you shuffle back a little more on his desk, making yourself comfortable as you get to your point, “but what I don’t get is why it’s mandatory to participate in the whole thing.”

“It’s not really mandatory. We’re a small operation – you don’t participate, you’ll show up on the President’s radar for not being a team player. You know he’s all about that.”

“Well, make us do a team building exercise - build a bridge out of newspaper, do trust falls or something besides try and be crafty.”

Leon scoffs. “I’m not doing a trust fall with you – not after last time.”

You open your mouth to reply – that was most definitely not meant to be a trust fall, Leon had just straight up fell - when Hunnigan pops her head around the cubicle, not even surprised to see you sitting on his desk, and gives the two of you a polite smile.

“Kennedy – intel briefing set for 1200. You prepped?”

“Sure am.”

Hunnigan eyes the pile of folders she clearly remembered placing on his desk first thing this morning, the exact ones which are nestled underneath your thighs.

“Uh-huh… Conference room seven. See you there.” She turns on her heels and departs, and you feel Leon’s hand ghost your thigh.

You look down, a little startled – sure there’s been flirtatious touches here and there, a time where you would’ve bet that month’s pay check that he was gonna kiss you after a particularly close call but swerved for your cheek at the last moment – and realise he’s tugging at the corner of a folder.

“Whilst I won’t deny that you’re an awful pretty paperweight, mind if I get back to work now?”

 You slide off – managing not to take the folders down with you - and mock a salute. “Yes, sir.”

--

The briefing is dull, which should be a good thing, really. No current BOW threats on the radar, though the threat level remains at orange. Leon can’t remember the last time they lowered it to yellow, so it seems a pointless system to him but he still throws in his two cents when called upon. He’s got another few weeks of desk duty to get through after Alcatraz after his medical - knows he’s not getting any younger and that’s why it’s taking him a little longer to recover after quite the beating.

Dismissed from the briefing, Leon swings by your desk on the way back to his, only to feel a little silly when he’s disappointed at the lack of you at it. There’s a shoebox sat on your desk though, lid taped on with a few rounds of parcel tape, but overall it looks a more than just a little worse for wear - crumpled corners and scuff marks all over the cardboard.

“Snooping, Kennedy?”

He can’t help the smile when you come to his side, your laptop tucked under your arm – must’ve had a meeting of your own. He holds up his mug, waving it from side to side in demonstration. “Was gonna see if you wanted a coffee, actually. That package looks a little suspect to get through the security check, right?”

You place your laptop down beside it and frown, before reading the return address. “Oh, no. It’s just some things that I asked my ex to send on. I forgot them in the move, only realized when I went to put my tree up last week…”

You trail off as you move the box towards you ever so slightly and there’s a horrible clinking sound that makes your stomach sink.

You grab a biro, jamming it through the tape lined around the edge as a make-shift knife and tentatively pull off the lid, bracing yourself for what you might discover within. Whilst you had safely stored them away in layers of bubble wrap, each in its own bo, he seems to have dumped them all out into the shoe box, one layer of bubble wrap on the bottom, another on top and they’ve obviously cracked together in transit, resulting in the shattered mess before you.

“Shit.” He comments, softly, watching as you pick up shards. “What are they?”

“My grandmother’s baubles.” Your voice goes flat as you pick up pieces of what once were precious memories and his heart aches. “She was a really talented artist before the arthritis got bad… Used to paint these and sell them at Christmas fairs.”

He’s silent as you continue picking through the pieces. There’s one that seems mostly intact, a smaller one but after further investigation there’s a big chunk missing from the side and you drop it back down in the box in defeat. Leon lays his hand on your shoulder then, seeing how you almost deflate in front of his very eyes, and he hopes to give you a reassuring squeeze – to let you know he’s here, he's always here for you, even if he’s not going to say it aloud. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.” But he knows it’s not by how tight your voice is. You’ve never got emotional in front of him before, not even when you’d been injured had you let that stupid, gorgeous smile falter. “I… I have to head out. I’ll see you later.”

You place the lid back on the shoebox and shove it off the desk. It lands in the waste basket with another awful sound of broken ceramic.

“Whoa, wait, don’t you wan-?” He begins to protest but you shrug his hand off your shoulder, shaking your head and now keeping your eyes downcast.

“Sorry, I really have to go.” He swears you just about jog out of his sight, no real destination in mind.

Leon doesn’t see you the rest of the day, though he swings by your desk a few more times when he gets up to stretch his legs. The maintenance team will be in later – dispose of the shredded paperwork, wipe down surfaces empty the waste baskets… so he doesn’t think twice when he picks up the shoebox as he leaves, holding it tightly in the crook of his arm as if it were the broken pieces of your heart.

--

Later that evening after dinner, he sits on his sofa, changed into his sweats rather than stuffy shirt and suit trousers, a soda on the table in a heavy-bottomed glass – doesn’t drink anymore, isn’t worth it, but he still likes the weight of a good glass in his hand – with his laptop perched on his knees.

The cursor blinks in place before he slowly types in the search bar.

How to fix a broken ceramic bauble.

He’s good with his hands from weapons maintenance, can handle delicate stuff, so why couldn’t he glue some bits of ceramic back together into a sphere?

He scrolls down the search results – various how-to articles and videos. He reads through a few, learns that it can depend on such factors of where the break occurred, if it’s clean break or not, how thick the ceramic is and, after all that, there’s the danger it could look like a kid put it together for their mom at kindergarten with a pot of PVA glue and got bored halfway through.

He’s not put off, though, as he continues his scroll until something bright and gold catches his eye…

Kintsugi?

Huh. Sounds… promising.

--

He does a test first. Practice makes perfect, and he’s determined he will make them as close to perfect again as he can… once he’s sure he’s got the hang of it. He buys a box of six ceramic baubles from a nearby department store, whacks one off the table edge gently until it shatters into reasonable-sized pieces, then sets about setting it back together with the kit he’d bought online – paid for express next-day delivery as well, no time to sit and wait around for 3-5 working days, longer in the Christmas build-up.

You’d not mentioned the baubles the next day in the office or how you’d rushed off, just came and sat on his desk with a coffee, had the usual back and forth banter but he can tell you’re a little flat, the light isn’t quite reaching your eyes as it once was and he hates it. You’d been excited for Christmas – even brought in a Christmas mug on the 1st of December – but it’s all been extinguished, now a DSO-logo stamped black mug in your hands.

It takes him the entire box over the next few evenings until he’s confident enough to tackle one of your prized possessions. Each bauble is unique – swirling patterns of pastel colours on all-white ceramic, but he treats the pieces like a puzzle as he slowly divides the piles into category of each bauble – four in total – and gently works out which piece belongs to which. There are bits that aren’t going to be a clean seam but he’s prepared for this in his practice rounds, still a little shake in his hand as he finally puts two and two together.

He likes the meaning behind the practice - embracing imperfections, not trying to hide the cracks or broken bits, but instead highlighting it, making it a feature with bright and beautiful gold. Lord knows he isn’t perfect, far from it, and he will never be the man he was before Raccoon City. A few years ago, when he was at his darkest, he would’ve described himself as beyond repair – too smashed up to ever be whole again.

Slowly but surely, he’s began to piece himself back together, embracing the fact that whilst he’s not quite whole and might never be, held together by his friends, his will and some glue and now your presence in his life giving him a little bit of sparkle.

He shakes his head, leans forward and switches off the made-for-TV Christmas movie.

--

Friday evening is here before he knows it and, frustratingly, an intel mission he’s on runs a little long – gets caught up in traffic. He needs to swing by his apartment to pick up your gift and needs to get changed while he’s at it – the dress code quite clear. He enters the hotel ball room in a shirt, suit jacket and trousers, sans tie, an over an hour and a bit late, carrying the gift bag as carefully as he would a baby or a bomb. The mixer already seems to be in full swing - there’s half a dozen round tables, discarded wrapping paper scattered across the tops of them as well as empty champagne glasses and he realizes he must’ve missed the gift exchange.

“There you are! I thought you were a no-show.” You tease, appearing at his side a little too quick to not have been waiting for him. You’re looking beautiful in your black cocktail dress, the one that hugs all the right places and your hair half up and half down, held in place with a red bow.

“Duty called. Did I miss the exchange?”

“Eh, kinda. It wasn’t a whole big thing. The President’s not coming – double booked himself, so everyone’s just been awkwardly exchanging gifts and downing more and more free drink.”

He tugs at the ribbon hanging down off your shoulder ever so gently.

“Well, you certainly look as pretty as a present. Please tell me you didn’t panic and gift yourself…”

You ignore him, loop your arm through his instead and guide him over to an empty table – there’s a large queue at the open bar and hopefully a few more minutes of privacy before making endless small talk – and encourage him to take a seat. As he does, you crouch besides another chair and fish for something underneath, pulling out a red and gold gift bag, an embarrassed smile as you hold it out to him.

“Merry Christmas, from your Secret Santa.”

He raises an eyebrow but still accepts the bag, placing it on the table. “You’re kidding.”

“No. Why?”

“You’re my Secret Santa?”

“Can you at least hold in the disappointment until after you open it?” You pout.

“No, I mean… I got you. We got each other.”

“What? That’s… weird.” You sit down heavily in the chair, looking a bit bemused. “What’s the statistics on that even happening?”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to demand a re-count.” He rolls his eyes and holds out his own gift bag. “Ladies first.”

You smile, brushing your fingers with his as you take it, before placing the gift bag down on the table and see four small cardboard boxes nestled within. You take out the first one and unfold the tabs, carefully, before removing the piece of red tissue paper he’d nestled on top.

What lies below it makes your heart stop.

It’s your grandmother’s baubles, or one of them, now held back in one piece and held together with threads of beautiful gold.

You look at him and then back down at the bauble.

“Is this…?”

“Yeah.”

“Leon, I…”

He sees the tears in your eyes as you take out the remaining boxes with a shaking hand, lining them up on the table and revealing each one in turn.

“I hope they aren’t an insult to your grandmother’s memory.” He blurts out after sitting in silence, unsure of what to make of yours. “They were just about to be tossed and so I took them, did some research on repair techniques and, well…”

“Did you do this?” There it is – the smile, the real smile that lights up your eyes.

“What, you think this old dog can’t learn new tricks? Everything’s on the internet these days.” He shrugs off – he won’t tell you the hours he spent, the headaches he got from squinting as he pieced parts together. Hell, he’d do it all again if he had to.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful. I… I can’t believe you did this for me. I… I just, I mean…”

He places a hand on your knee, gives you a soft smile.

“There’s a lot I’d do for you, you know, if you’d let me.”

There’s a moment as your eyes meet that you feel perhaps your cheeks have gone as red as the bow on top of your head and quickly try to deflect, nodding your head at his unopened gift bag.

“You should’ve let me go first - this is going to be such a disappointment in comparison.”

Leon gives your knee a squeeze before he peers into this gift bag, digging out a small gift box. He places it down on the table and tugs off the lid to find there’s a beautiful ridged glass nestled in red tissue paper, heavy-bottomed – you know his preference all right - but there’s something within the glass too. A mass of what appears to be red and green yarn, a little loop of black string at the top… He picks it up between two fingers.

“It’s…” He trails off, looking at the colours. “It’s certainly festive.”

“Okay, I can’t knit but I tried and that’s the important thing here, right?”

“No, no, it’s… cute.” He smiles. “And the glass – I love it. Just my style.”

You bite your lip, looking a little flustered and unsure, but he assumes you’re still feeling a little emotional over his present… until you try and yank the yarn from his hands.

“Hey!” He gets to his feet out of instinct of being attacked and clutches whatever it is closely to his chest.

“Look, if you just give me it, I can try some other craft thing. Just I was in a pity party all week and I stayed up all night doing that and it shows.” You get to your feet then, trying to weasel through fingers into his to retrieve it. “I can’t leave you with that, it’s not fair.”

“No, it’s mine.”

You don’t give up your attempt to wrestle it back, though Leon’s grip never falters. “You don’t even know what it’s meant to be!”

“Sure I do. It’s…” He retaliates, whipping it quickly above his head and yours – too high for you to snatch out of his hands despite your heels – and squints once more, comparing it against some of the festive décor in the hall.

“Oh.”

“It’s so dumb.” You begin your protest again, now trying to grab it from above your heads. “I just tho-” Leon wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you forward firmly against his chest, before he finally drops his other arm and cups your cheek, knitted mistletoe still in his fingers and kisses you firmly on the lips, swallowing down the rest of your sentence. He can’t help but grin as he feels you relax into his embrace, pressing your palm now flat against his chest. He runs his tongue along your bottom lip, poking ever so gently to seek permission and-

“About goddamn time, Kennedy!” The shout of an inebriated agent causes the two of you to pull apart and you feel flustered by both the overdue kiss and what feels like the eyes of the entire DSO on the two of you.

Leon takes it all in his stride though, keeps a warm palm right on your lower back as he smiles and nods at whoever the hell it was that had interrupted, before pressing a sweet, solitary kiss to your cheek.

“Now, seeing as I’ve got this mistletoe, how about we go back to my place and try it out a little more, beautiful?”

---

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

Comments, follows, likes and reblogs make my day!

[augustjustice]

Pretty in Pink

AO3 Link

I am still firmly on my Stevie Harrington agenda this week, so please enjoy below Eddie's thirsty-turned-sappy thoughts about his favorite girl, inspired by @getlost0p's absolutely delightful art as well @cherrycolasteve's very cute tags.

Eddie taps the pen against his front teeth absently, eyes flitting uncomprehendingly over the various multiple choice options of his practice test. With his brain already feeling fuzzy and unfocused, it’s easy to let his gaze drift away from the page over to the girl currently sprawled out beside him–Stevie Harrington, curled up reading the X-Men comic Dustin had strong-armed her into picking up. 

And, look–who could really blame him for getting a little distracted? There's a hot girl in his bed which is, admittedly, a rare enough occurrence–until shit went sideways last spring, at least–to still feel a little notable. Even if she is only there for moral support while he studies, his GED test date circling ever closer.

Stevie's wearing a striped white and pink polo with the buttons undone all the way to the bottom of the neckline and tight stonewash jeans. The absolute preppiest of prep attire, completed by the cherry-flavored chapstick shining red on her lips.

Eddie wants to kiss her stupid.

The jeans are high waisted, pulled up snug over the curve of her ass, and with Stevie rolled onto her stomach reading the comic, Eddie's getting quite the view.

Then she shifts, flopping over onto her back beside him, the movement followed by the sound of pages turning. The new position offers a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage, a further hint of what her clingy polo is doing such a great job of highlighting. 

Eddie looks. Of course he looks.

Estrogen has taken to Stevie’s figure like a duck to water. In the plush spread of her hips, making her pert ass even rounder, which Eddie would have thought was damn near impossible. And in the plumpness steadily gathering at her chest, her once defined pecs softening, giving way to the gentle swell of her breasts, which grow fuller by the day. 

It’s become something of a problem for him lately–the staring. 

That was true, to some extent, even before she started to transition. Stevie's always been gorgeous, and Eddie's always been aware of that fact, harboring a hopeless, from afar crush on her since they landed in the same impossible English class his first senior year and Eddie had become painfully aware of what all the Hawkins High girls were on about. Not that he would have admitted that, at the time, not even under threat of painful, agonizing death–no, the coming terms with it came later, during his spring break from hell spent realizing that Stevie Harrington was not only surprisingly sweet but a totally badass, bonafide hero.

…The whole ripping that bat apart with her teeth thing certainly didn't hurt, either.

The point is, he's always looked at Stevie, flirted with her. Probably been too obvious about it, too. 

It's just that since she started to transition, it feels like he's gotten so much worse, like any subtlety he was holding on to by his fingernails has been ripped from his hands. Eddie can’t stop staring at her, the heat of embarrassment prickling his face, tongue-tied like a school boy with a crush each and every time he gets caught. 

And that's the worst part of it–he does get caught, far more often than he'd like.

It’d been months, now, since the first time Stevie explicitly called him out for it–a warm Saturday in the summer when they had dragged the kids down to the arcade, trying to beat the heat with the dark, air-conditioned interior of the local nerd haunt. 

Stevie had been watching Erica beat her own high score at Duck Hunt, leaned over the machine in her Daisy Duke cutoff shorts and a cropped pink jersey, ponytail swinging against her back and the scars littering her sides unashamedly on display. That’s something they had both been working themselves up to, together–not hiding their war wounds, fighting off the anxiety that came from people’s stares.

But Eddie had been staring for an entirely different reason when Stevie caught him. 

As Erica ran off to ‘pummel’ Dustin after his latest Dig Dug win, Stevie propped an elbow on the abandoned game, shooting Eddie a knowing look.

“Like what you see, Munson?” she asked coyly.

Eddie’s entire face flamed with heat. 

“I was just–your top!” he blurted. “I was just admiring your top, my lady. It’s…it’s cute. The pink–think that might be your color, Harrington.”

Stevie’s cheeks burned her own pretty pink to match it, then, which Eddie couldn’t help but preen about. 

And if he noticed she started wearing a lot more pink around him after that, well…he tried not to read too much into it.

Just like the pretty pale pink she’s wearing today, attracting his eye and forcing Eddie to hold back a twitterpated sigh as he watches her, wrapped up in the bright primary colored pages of the X-Men

…This bullshit of his is definitely gonna get his ass kicked by Robin or Nancy, one of these days, he’s sure of it. Possibly both of them at once–Buck may just hold him down while Wheeler does what she does best.

But the truth is, it's not just about how Stevie’s figure has steadily filled out. He's not gonna lie, that's definitely part of it–but also…she just has this glow about her, now, like she's settling so happily into herself. It’s like that contentment beams out of her, radiant, in every little gesture, every giddy smile. He's drawn in by it, like Icarus with the sun, like a moth to a flame–too entranced to turn away, even if it might end up burning him in the long run.

The thing is, Stevie's beautiful, and she takes his breath away.

She’s become such an intrinsic part of his life, since everything that happened, he’s not entirely sure what he would do without her. Hell, they still share a bed, some nights–fighting back the nightmares together is always easier. And in the intervening months since that started, she's grown steadily softer beside him, curves pressing against his body where there were once hard planes and sharper angles. Her presence is no less warm and comforting than it had been from the beginning, though, her weight and smell familiar, the steady rhythm of her breathing when it finally evens out the same.

Eddie wonders if they were supposed to have stopped doing that, somewhere along the way–the sleeping together part, even though they're only doing it in the most platonic, just-friends sort of way possible. Then again, he's never put all that much stock in it, what he is and isn't supposed to be doing. Besides, how much difference could stopping really have made? Not a whole hell of a lot, in his opinion, considering they've both been bi as fuck the whole damn time.

Sharing a bed all the time doesn't really help his other problem–the staring, the thinking about Stevie's plush curves and soft skin–but that's his own shit to deal with and work out. Stevie shouldn't have to suffer through the nights alone just because Eddie can't keep his hard on for her in check.

So, yeah. He thinks she’s a knockout–of course he does–but the truth is, that’s all secondary to the way he feels about her. She’s steadily grown into one of his best friends, in the time since he’s finally gotten to actually know her. And if all he ever gets to do is look–and better yet, talk to her, bicker and joke and tease, share popcorn at movie nights crammed too close together on the Harrington’s couch and laugh at all the same stupid inside jokes–well, he considers himself honored for the privilege of it. 

“What, Munson?” Stevie laughs suddenly, drawing him out of his reverie–during which he had, of course, still been staring–by smacking him lightly on the arm with her comic book. 

That had been another secret, shared between them–Stevie liked the X-Men, she’d confessed, even if she couldn’t resist pretending otherwise to Dustin. She said the Mutants made her feel…seen, in a way she really hadn’t ever before. 

"I know exactly what you mean, sweetheart," Eddie had agreed easily when she told him. 

"Kinda figured you might, Eds,” she had shot him a soft smile, which he returned in kind.

That feeling of being seen–understood–stretched out beyond the pages of the comic book to encompass them both, the way they just fundamentally got each other.

"Mystique's got nothing on you, though," he had added with a wink, falling back on his old routine of borderline flirtation just for the pleasure of seeing her blush yet again, ducking her head as she gave his shoulder an exasperated nudge.

He blinks back to reality, finds himself looking into those same mesmerizing eyes now, big and brown and staring back at him expectantly. A smile plays at the corners of Stevie’s mouth as she puts her comic aside. Scooting closer, she reaches to give one of his test booklet pages a quick shake. 

"You're supposed to be studying, you know. Believe me, I get how hard that can be, and I wasn't exactly the best in school…but I'm still like 99% sure you at least have to look at the page before you get it,” she teases. “And I haven’t got the answers to this question secretly penciled somewhere up my sleeve, promise. So, not really sure how staring at me is gonna help you here."

Eddie studies her face–the amused pink curve of her mouth, the cute little moles that dot her cheeks and throat. 

That wistful sigh finally escapes him.

“Shit, sorry,” he apologies on autopilot, and then, the confession rolls off his tongue before he can stop it, “you’re just so…fucking pretty.”

As soon as the words have left his mouth, he cringes, preparing to blurt out yet another apology–and then Stevie’s finger presses against his lips. When he glances at her, he finds that her whole face has lit up. 

Well, fuck. If she’s gonna look at him like that, he can’t even be sorry for his big mouth.

Then, surprise of all surprises–he feels a jolt as she leans in and pecks him once on the cheek, lips smooth from her cherry chapstick. 

“Thanks. You’re sweet, Eddie,” Stevie murmurs, quietly, as she pulls back. Then, her smile turns mischievous, pretty eyes giving one of her patented, exasperated eyerolls. “And good of you to finally say something about it.”

Eddie barks out a disbelieving laugh before he can help it, hiding his face for a moment between his fingers.

“Seriously, Harrington, you know you’re a total babe.”

“Yeah, sure,” Stevie agrees, a glimmer of that overconfidence she’d carried herself with in school shining out. Eddie can’t even lie–he loves it. “But a girl still likes to hear it, now and again.”

“Shit, Stevie.” Head still ducked, Eddie reaches out slowly and takes her hand, twiddling with her fingers as he looks up from beneath the fringe of his bangs. “Now that I know you want me, too–I’ll tell you anytime you want.”

Reaching forward, Stevie tucks a tuft of hair behind Eddie’s ear, not letting him hide behind the curtain of it. Then, she leans in, and this time she presses a soft kiss to his lips. 

Eddie sucks in another sharp, surprised breath, finally tasting that cherry flavor for himself. 

“I’m totally gonna hold you to that one, Eds,” she says, leaving their foreheads pressed gently together even once she pulls back, “so just get ready for it.”  

But, then, a mere moment later, Stevie is bouncing backwards on the bed, giggling when Eddie leans in, trying to chase after her lips again. He groans as she picks up his booklet and presses it against his chest. 

“You can check me out all you want later, stud,” Stevie shoots him a wink, flipping open to the page he had left off on. “But, for now…you’ve gotta get back to work.”

When she settles down beside him this time, though, she stays close, hooking her chin over his shoulder. 

“And, I’ve got an idea. A tried and true method for studying. Works every time.” 

“That right?” Eddie tilts his head to face her, cocking an eyebrow. “Well, lay it on me, then, sweetheart. Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

He taps a finger lightly against her temple. The playful twinkle in Stevie’s eyes as she grins at him makes Eddie’s heart skip a bit.

“How about…I give you a kiss for every question you get right?” she murmurs, close enough her warm breath ghosts over his skin. 

Eddie lets his eyes drop down to the red shine of her lips, and feels giddy, for once, knowing he can look his fill. After a long, loaded pause, he gives a sharp nod, clapping his hands together.

“You know what, Stevie? Studying never sounded so good.” Snatching up his pen again, he settles back with the test now spread across both their laps. “I’m in.” 

And, this time, whenever Stevie distracts Eddie from his studies–well. At least he can tell himself it’s all in the name of a good cause.

[blue-slxt]

Kinktober 19

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

Kinktober Masterlist

A/N: This prompt felt like the perfect time to do a sort of part 2 for my Part of The Family request that I did way back when. You don’t need to read that to understand this though. I had a ton of ideas for who I wanted to use for this prompt and in the end, I decided to try stretching my wings again and venturing into unfamiliar territory with this pairing. I really like how this one turned out so I hope you guys enjoy it!

Pairing: Tonowari x Fem!Metkayina!Reader x Ronal

Warnings: Heat Cycle, Breeding, Fingering, P in V, Creampie, Cum Play, Spit (kinda a little), Throuple, Thigh Riding (a little)

Life with Tonowari and Ronal proved to be quite the change for you, but a nice one. They were warm and welcoming to you. The two of them absolutely adored you. They helped you with anything and everything you could ever need. You were admittedly worried about how the kids would respond to having you around, but they acclimated to your presence quickly. Tsireya was as bright and receptive to you as you’ve always known her to be. She would ask you to help braid her hair and she would recount her days to you while Ronal sat nearby prepping food. It was always a quaint scene. Ao’nung was a bit more standoffish in the beginning and you didn’t blame him for it. You understood his hesitancy so you didn’t push. But a simple nudge at asking him to go fishing with you seemed to help break the ice and eased some of that tension for the two of you.

It felt odd to not be on your own anymore, but having a family was nice. It was comforting to have them around, but you still couldn’t help but have this nagging feeling scratching in the back of your head that said something was still missing. But what more could you possibly ask for?

You sigh a bit to yourself next to Ronal and she immediately picks up on the shift in your demeanor. “What troubles you, paskalin?” she inquires using one of her fingers under your chin to turn you to look at her.

“Nothing, tìyawn. I think I’m just feeling a bit restless today.” You try to push away the gnawing feeling in your head and put on your best front. But your poker face is no match for Ronal’s scrutinizing gaze.

She hums to herself looking over your face. She uses her fingers under your chin to turn your face this way and that way studying you. She leans in close to you and holds her face in the crook of your neck. It feels like all your hair stands on end feeling her so close like this. She breathes in your scent deeply closing her eyes and leaning back from you again. When she opens her eyes to look at you, there’s a realization that hits her.

“Your heat is approaching.”

“What? How do you know?” you had trouble even recognizing the signs of your own heat so you were completely shocked as to how she’d know. “I am Tsahik. We can predict these kind of things. You have all the signs. It should be here in a day’s time.” She says finally dropping her hold on your face. “We must prepare.”

“Prepare how?” you ask.

She just gives you a warm smile and kisses your forehead, “Do not worry yourself over that. Tonowari and I will take care of everything.”

You flush at her touch, but nod your head in understanding.

…

You’ve never had a partner to help you through your heats before. Every time you would just be left to your own devices and pathetic attempts to satiate that endless hunger that swirled in your core. This was all new to you and you weren’t sure what to expect.

Waking up this morning, you had that all too familiar lightheaded feeling and the unwelcome pain in your womb aching for relief. You try to blink your vision into focus, but to no avail. You instinctively curl into the warm body of your mate in front of you. Her skin smells like pasuk and fresh ground herbs and it makes you whine under her. You almost don’t even notice how your hips are grinding and rolling against her hip offering you the tiniest taste of relief.

When Ronal starts to seep back into consciousness, the first thing her mind registers is the thick fog of your pheromones that she’s buried in. Then, she can hear your soft whimpers next to her and she feels how you’re desperately trying to find release against her side. She smiles to herself and turns on her side towards you and holds you close against her.

“Good morning to you too, paskalin.” She says groggily with sleep still slightly slurring her words.

“Ronal…it hurts…I-I need…” you whimper out. She strokes the top of your head and lightly shushes you.

“Shhh shhhh, it is alright. I know. Just let me take care of the kids quickly.” She whispers about to pull out of your grip, but you cling onto her even more dying for that skin-to-skin contact.

“Don’t leave me, please” you pout out your lip hoping to convince her to stay. She only offers you a sympathetic smile. She gently places her hands on your shoulder and hip and pushes you gently to your other side.

“Tonowari will be here with you until I return. I’ll be right back.” She kisses your cheek before swiftly standing and making her way to the part of your marui where the kids were still sleeping. Meanwhile, you immediately seek out the warmth of your other mate’s body. He lay still sleeping soundly completely unaware of how you’ve wiggled your way into his arms and hiked your leg up over his hips. You can feel his half-hard length pushing against you and it’s driving you wild. Your body is screaming for it; dying to be filled. You can’t stop your hand from trailing down his body and palming at his thick cock through his tewng. You can practically feel your slick racing out of you.

Even though he’s still asleep, Tonowari stirs feeling your touch and his body still reacts to you as normal. His hands move on their own down to your ass and automatically squeeze at your softness. Ronal walks back in after sending the kids away and smiles fondly at the sight. She leans down to Tonowari and speaks, “Tonowari, it is time.” He finally regains consciousness and makes his best attempt to register what is happening.

“Wari…please…” you whine in his arms. He nuzzles his face into your neck pressing kisses here and there.

“Finally. We have been waiting for this.” He says so lowly you almost miss it.

“You have?”

“Of course. We’ve been waiting so that we can have a child with you.” Ronal says holding your face and running her thumb over your lips.

“Would you like that?” Tonowari asks between taking in heady breaths of your scent.

The idea settles in your mind for a moment. A baby. They wanted to have a baby with you. And it slides into place in your brain. That’s exactly what you’ve been wanting without realizing it. Of course, Tsireya and Ao’nung were wonderful and you cared for them as if they were your own, but you still longed to carry a child too.

“Yes…Yes, please. I want it. So bad.” You finally answer them. The grins on their faces are identical hearing your answer. Clothes immediately go flying as they take turns stripping you down and themselves. Ronal crawls her way behind you and snakes her arms around to grope at your breasts and cup your drooling pussy. Somehow in your dizzy state, you manage to turn around and face her to crash your lips against hers. She smiles against your lips at how eager you are and her hands continue to explore your body. Tonowari slowly strokes himself while he watches you climb on top of Ronal and sit your pussy on the plush of her thigh. The contact pushes your mind further into the haze and you start to grind your hips back and forth against her leg. Your hands mindlessly roam up and down her body under you until your fingers find purchase between her own slick folds. Your lips part begging for her to come in and she happily obliges licking into your mouth. She greedily swallows the saliva that runs off the corner of your mouth into hers. Your fingers slide easily through her arousal flowing freely out between her legs. Her hands squeeze at your ass while your tail thrashes behind you.

You pull your lips away from her to breathe temporarily. Ronal takes the opportunity to nuzzle at your neck and lick long, wet stripes up your neck.

“Ronal…ppl-please…it hurts…” you sob already trying to gain some friction by grinding your cunt against her thigh that was now covered in your slick.

“Shhh paskalin. I know, I know.” She coos at you hooking her legs under yours to hold them open. She uses her hands on your ass to slide them lower and spread your lips open, putting you fully on display for Tonowari who was now fully hard behind you.

“You heard her, Wari. Our precious mate needs your help.” Her voice drips sex with each word.

“Yes, yes, tanhì. We will make it all better for you.” He says steadily stroking himself as he perches himself behind you and lines his dick up with your weeping pussy.

Your mouth flies open and Ronal is under you kissing her way down to the dip between your breasts as Tonowari makes room for his thick cock inside of you. Inch by inch, he stretches you to your limits. The combination of his tip prodding against your cervix and two pairs of hands freely trailing over your body wherever they please makes your thoughts feel incoherent, let alone your words.

“Ahh..mmf!” little moans and mewls are punched out of your throat by the push of Tonowari’s hips into yours. His large stature easily overpowers your much smaller one and he would’ve quickly knocked you over had it not been for Ronal holding you in place while your mate ruts into your throbbing pussy. With the angle he’s holding your hips, it makes your clit brush and bump against Ronal’s giving you another point of stimulation. Your eyes roll and your tongue hangs out of your mouth with your panting breaths. A long string of saliva rolls from the tip of your tongue down into Ronal’s awaiting mouth and she moans at your taste.

Tonowari sucks in a sharp breath while his chin falls to his chest. “Ah! Hng…so tight, tanhì”, he grunts out.

Any other day, having him pound into you so harshly would be painful for you, but in the thick of your heat, it only makes you cry out in pleasure.

“Haah! Ah…p-please! Inside! W-want you to cum inside!”

Ronal moans under you before grabbing you by the back of your head and bringing your lips back to hers. The constant knocking of your hips into hers is about to send her over the edge. Her nails dig into your skin leaving deep purple crescents as her coil snaps and she comes undone before your eyes. In the midst of her high, she completely sucks your tongue into her mouth muffling the sweet sounds she’s making.

Watching Ronal buck her hips up towards you while she rides out her high is intoxicating and makes your walls flutter around Tonowari’s cock.

“Haah, going to cum. Gonna give you a baby.”

“Mhm! Mhm! Oh, fuck, I’m going to cum! Just like that!”

With only a few more hard thrusts, your mind tumbles over the cliff into blissful emptiness. Your whole body convulses as Tonowari paints the inside of your womb with thick ropes of his seed. He leans forward resting his head on your back for a minute while you all regain your breath. When he pulls out and falls onto his back, Ronal replaces his dick with her fingers ensuring to push back in any of his cum that started to seep out. You collapse onto her chest and she uses her free hand to stroke the top of your head lovingly and whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

“Do not be long, Tonowari. We must ensure that it takes.” She says pushing her fingers further into your cunt making you clench around them.

Suddenly, your hips start to push back against her hand forcing more of her into you. That fire that was temporarily extinguished is already starting to reignite deep in your core.

“Mmmm…hurts…” you complain from between her chest.

“I know. We will take care of you. Won’t we?” Ronal gushes at you.

“Of course.” Tonowari appears behind you again and he flips you over onto your back lining up with you again.

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[bahrtofane]

blue thobe and tea

Jude but he’s your husband and it’s Eid. yay !

word count - 1.3K+

watch it - eid chaos and shenanigans

p.s. -Count this as my Eid gift to yall ! 

The clock reads a brisk 6:00 am, and you're late. Well, behind schedule. But still. 

Running around trying to find your shoes ( you swore you left them at the door but whatever) last minute ironing of clothes and fitting cookies in tupperware because the 50 you prepared isn't nearly enough. You've been in and out of the kitchen checking on the tea that's been steeping, brewing and boiling since you woke up.

You're still in your bath robe, clutching it closed while you do laps around your home. You left Jude still in bed, and he soon wakes at the commotion you're creating. 

Your ever-patient husband appears in the doorway with a bemused expression. His hair is much less neat than he likes and sleepy eyes only add to his charm. "What time even is it?" he grumbles, clearly not thrilled about the rush.

You glance at the clock, "We're running behind schedule," you admit, crossing your arms and shaking your head. 

Jude steps closer, wrapping his arms around you, “We'll make it work," he reassures, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. 

You relax, even for a second, sighing softly. 

“I don't want to be late late,” you grumble into the crook of his neck.

He coos at you, petting your hair and promising he'll be extra quick getting ready.

You smile, eyes crinkling while sending him off to shower. In the time he takes to get showered, ready, changed. You've found your shoes, heels now clanking as you finish the last bit of prep.

The tea is ready, poured into each thermos and set on the table. Jude steps out of your bedroom in the cutest blue thobe and your heart swoons.

“My handsome man,” you press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Think so?” He gives you a little spin. 

"You clean up nicely," you tease, giving him a playful nudge.

He chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist,"Only for you, my love," he replies, planting a kiss on your lips.

You hum, “think you can get the thermos in the car?’

“Of course baby, “

As Jude heads out to the car with the thermos, you take a moment to admire him from behind. The way his thobe drapes over his frame, the confident stride in his step—it all makes your heart swell with pride. How lucky are you?

With a soft sigh, you clean up the last few things around your house. Washing the dishes, tucking plates inside the dishwasher, cleaning up the aftermath of your tea making, fluffing out your table cover, and sliding your house shoes snug against the wall. 

You get ready yourself. Not too much time as your dress slides off of its perch on your hanger. You do a quick once over in the mirror of your bathroom. Your makeup is good to go, your outfit is perfect. Things worked out after all. 

Your clock now reads 7:22. Relatively on schedule. You told your family you should get there around 8:30. 

You grab your purse, Judes sunglasses, the tupperware of cookies and head outside, locking the door behind you. The sun is beginning to rise, casting a golden hue over the neighborhood. Dew still clings to the blades of grass that span your front yard.

 Jude ducks into his designated seat, your passenger princess, holding his hands open for the tupperware as you slide it into his lap. His glasses go on top of his head, seat belt clicking softly as you make your way to the drivers side. 

Jude is giddy as you make your way to your famed family eid event. He used to be nervous out of his mind, unsure of where to fit in. half the time you found him standing off to the side. Until your cousins forcefully made him join monopoly (its eid tradition okay). 

And even since then he's been more or less of a monopoly fiend, getting way too fired up than what's probably acceptable for a monopoly game but who cares. If he's having fun that's all you could really ask for.  

As you drive to your destination, Jude hums along to the radio, occasionally reaching over to squeeze your hand or steal a quick kiss at a red light. 

“You're so clingy,” you huff. Rolling your eyes playfully but leaning into each kiss nonetheless. 

“Yeah yeah and you love it.” he shrugs. 

You can't argue with that. 

“Think you'll win this year?” He knows what you mean. Monopoly of course.

“Of course I will. Tell your cousin I don't care how many times he moves his pieces when I'm not looking I will win.” he rubs his hands together. 

“You do that. I'm gonna play chess.” you nod. 

“You're really missing out you know.”

“I'm really not, those fiends of property will not be coming near me.”

“Baby.” he laughs.

“Hm?”

"You're gonna have to fix your lipstick kinda smudged it.” he giggles.

You quickly look into your rearview mirror, “you did a number on me.”

He only laughs harder. Ah the sweet sound of Eid fun. You love Eid.

When you finally arrive at your destination (and fix your lipstick) , your cousin's house is alive with the sounds of laughter and greetings. She got to host this year. You think next year will be yours and Judes. You have some remodeling to finish this year. 

You and Jude are greeted warmly by friends and family, exchanging hugs and well wishes. You snort at your younger family members who wait for their Eid money. This year it's Jude who gives it out. Taking his wallet out and kneeing to eye level with the kids as they get their gift for the day. 

You find your cousin, knee deep in dishes in the kitchen already.

“There you are,” she beams, kissing your cheeks and wiping her hands dry. She pulls out a kitchen chair and hands it to you. You take a seat gladly. 

“You look busy.” you raise a brow. 

“You think?” she huffs. 

You raise your hands up, “hey it's not even tea time yet what's with the dishes.”

“Cookies I didn't finish this morning.” she groans, heading back to the sink.

You get up out of her seat and push her out of the way, “go greet your guest you idiot i got it here.”

She sighs, heading off to greet the growing crowd of people that fill her home. 

You finish in a few minutes, organizing what you can before finding Jude surrounded by kids who throw various sports balls for him to juggle. He's doing pretty good, laughing as each ball gets increasingly more outrageous. Golf balls? Where did they get golf balls? 

You take a few videos before he calls it quits and joins you to do your round of greeting the new arrivals.

Throughout the day, you and Jude enjoy the festivities, indulging in delicious food, sharing stories, and making cherished memories. He ends up winning monopoly, go figure. Chess ends in a stalemate and you have a stare off with a family friend that sits opposite to you in the living room. Next time you both agree silently. 

Lunch has been served along with a large array of sweets with tea, (yours was a hit). Jude preens at the praise that comes your way, boasting of how amazing you always make it, that your hands are just naturally sweet. 

You swat his chest, scurrying away while he continues to any and everyone that will listen to him. 

“That man is obsessed with you,” your cousin appears again, tea in hand. 

“Isn't he?” you snort. 

“I hope you guys host next year.” she gives you a nudge with her shoulder.

“Me too. You did great this year.” 

“Don't leave the cookies last minute like me though,” she grumbles before melting back into the crowd.

As the day draws to a close and you head home, hand in hand with Jude, you can't help but smile at the thought of many more Eids to come, spent with the love of your life.

You're thinking of getting him a pink thobe for next Eid, good idea no?

[ms-demeanor]

So I love your computer information and advice - but I have never used a password manager because I’ve always figured it’s just putting all my most sensitive information out there to be stolen when someone gets into the password manager. What am I missing here?

The primary thing is that, in the normal course of time and space, given the limitations of computing technology, if you are using a decent password manager, nobody should be able to get into your password manager.

Good password managers (I recommend Bitwarden) are essentially impossible to access through cracking the encryption. It just won't happen. It's not going to happen.

In a decent password manager, your data also will not be available to the company that made the product. They can't get it. They don't have access, and anyone who breaks into their systems doesn't have access.

So there is one way that someone could get into your (decent) password manager: if they know your password.

That's why it's important to create one complex, memorable, unique password for your password manager that you do not share with anyone except in the most dire circumstances with someone you are 100% certain that you can trust (I've used the example in the past of my spouse giving me the password to his password manager when he was being prepped for an emergency bypass surgery - outside of situations like that, my spouse and I don't share passwords with each other).

Now, let's look at the flipside: if you do not use a decent password manager (which will generate nonsense random passwords for you on demand), you are probably creating passwords that are comparatively very easy to crack either through dictionary attacks or effortless to crack with credential stuffing.

Part of the problem here is that our data and security landscape is garbage. You have almost certainly had personal information leaked in a data breach that you had no say in participating in. You have almost certainly had your email address and multiple passwords exposed in breaches over the years. You have almost certainly used the same answers repeatedly for security questions, and there are only so many sites that will allow you to update those questions and answers, and those answers have almost certainly been exposed in previous breaches.

And the thing is, people are predictable. People reuse passwords, which makes credential stuffing extremely easy, because someone just has to find a leak from 2009 to identify your email address and then see if you used your 2009 password on any other accounts that you also registered with that email address. If your email address shows up in multiple leaks, they can compare the kinds of passwords that you used with different accounts.

Did you use the "unique password" hack that so many people do of "[site abbreviation][basic password][birthyear][punctuation]"? FBpassword95! TWTpassword95! TMBLRpassword95! - that's really, really common because passwords are hard to remember and people behave in predictable ways when they're trying to save themselves some labor.

Perhaps you are an XKCD reader and learned the CorrectHorseBatteryStaple trick, but unless you read the follow-up studies after the fact you might not know that those passwords are actually pretty crackable unless you're using words that are more like IndubitablyNematodeErlenmeyerRisome. And if you're using a unique combination of uncommon words it's going to get pretty hard to remember a hundred of them. And you'll start repeating. And then it's back to credential stuffing instead of dictionary attacks.

The point is that you are substantially more at risk of having your accounts accessed if you are repeating or using non-random passwords than you are if you are using a password manager. Some people do actually sit down with dice to roll up random passwords and write them in a book, but the vast majority of people are relying on their predictable human brains to come up with "complex" passwords and we are just not good at that.

Password managers also make it a lot easier to change things after a breach, and they make it a lot easier to generate and store random gibberish for your security questions (which you should be doing; at this point security questions are a liability, not an account recovery tool).

Using a password manager would make most people's passwords significantly more secure AND more accessible than something like writing randomized numbers and characters in a book (because a good password should not only be difficult to remember, it should be unnatural for you to type because there shouldn't be any words in it and it should require a lot of use of the shift key). A properly used password manager can also help to protect you from phishing sites by recognizing the correct site and not allowing an option to fill on a phishing site (which is why using a password manager with a browser plugin or an app can be a better option than one that is stored on your desktop and needs the password copy/pasted instead of filling the field for you).

So yes, if someone gets access to your password, they can get access to your password manager and you now have one point of failure instead of hundreds of accounts. However, because of the way that human brains work and because of how balls-to-the-walls uncrackable a good encrypted password vault is, you are likely to be more secure with that single point of failure than you are using the kinds of passwords that most people make up (we are really, really, really not good at making up nonsense passwords; go look at the top thousand passwords and think about how many of them you've used as a PART of any of your passwords. Most languages have a very small number of words that people use on a regular basis and it isn't that hard to get a computer to scan for a few thousand words if it has unlimited attempts to get into your account - mix that in with the fact that there are SO, SO many breaches out there and it is frighteningly easy to get into a lot of accounts).

However, you can then also make your password manager even MORE secure by setting up 2FA to access it. At which point the only way someone is getting into your password manager is if they know your password and have access to your 2FA account.

Generally I find that what most people are worried about isn't that their horrible ex or an abusive parent will get into their password manager, they're a lot more worried that the contents of their password vault will be exposed in a breach. And that is just not going to happen if you're using a securely encrypted password manager (like bitwarden).

[maximumkillshot]

I Can't Lose You-Part 12

Warnings: Tooth Rotting Fluff, mentions of doctors appointments, that's it!

Pairing: BangChan x Reader

Characters: All the boys except Chan, although Chan is mentioned, Reader

A/N: The reader needs a break!!! So here we are. This one is fluffy, it feels good to me. I hope you guys like it! Also, I am pretty sure I had two seizures in the last two days (At least). Thank you to everyone for being so patient. I will try to resume my Friday schedule. Thank you so much for your understanding and well wishes!!

ALL WORK IS UNDER ME AND MY BLOG. DO NOT TRY TO REPUBLISH OR STEAL MY WORK, AS THAT IS COPYRIGHTED UNDER ME AND IS CONSIDERED COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT WHICH IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENSE. 

ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

I Can't Lose You Masterlist-CLICK HERE

Stray Kids Masterlist-CLICK HERE

Bin POV:

“Everyone ready to go?” I asked. Early in the morning the psychiatrist came in to talk to Y/N. They asked me to come in for a few seconds with Han. They let us know that they really didn’t want her anywhere near the house and to stay with at least Han and I, but it was preferable for most if not all of us to be there for at least the first week. The trauma tied to the 3 Racha house is just too much at this point, the doctors were also worried about Chan making the recovery even worse than it already is. Y/N agreed wholeheartedly and with that she was given follow up appointments. Finally the latest blood tests came just before lunch and she was given a clean bill of health and an outpatient appointment for her OBGYN. Felix, Minho, I.N., and Hyunjin all went to the DanceRacha house to start prepping for us to head there. Felix texted me that he had a few surprises for her which made me smile, she needs a good surprise right about now. 

I’m still worried about Y/N. The DanceRacha dorms are a good option, but I know that for me, I still have memories tied to Chris there. I’m wondering if that is exactly what she is thinking. I can’t help but worry about it. “Remember the deal with the doctors is for you to be away from that house and with your support system. Are you sure you don’t want a place of your own? I want you to be comfortable as you heal.” 

“I don’t have the money for that,” Y/N smiled at me. It was a reassuring one, as if she could read my mind. She and I always had this connection. Whenever I was feeling down she would pop in to see how I was doing. 

I remember one time, it was maybe 3am and I was working on lyrics. They were risky, going double the speed of the song's beat, the technique is called ‘double time’ in rapping. Fast spitting rappers do it all the time, think Eminem and Busta Rhymes. It was my first time attempting it and I contemplated each and every syllable like a landmine. Writing it wasn't the issue, it was being able to deliver it while dancing. Those syllables take up a lot of air, not to mention the brutality that comes with dancing and singing at the same time. Our steps aren't insanely difficult, but they definitely take up oxygen like no one's business. So I'd get up, do push ups, jumping jacks, burpees, anything to get my heart rate up to about what it would be when performing, then I'd try to deliver the lines. Doing this is always painful, your body is screaming at you to stop talking, hunch over, and gasp for air. Obviously, we can't do that, so we try our hardest to build endurance. Some are like Chan, who sing while doing cardio (which is insane, by the way, I felt like I was dying when I tried it), some are like LeeKnow, packing on layer after layer of heavy clothing before and during dance practice, forcing the body to exert itself so much that when all of those layers are off, each movement and breath is a breeze (also insanity to do. It feels like working out in a sauna with a weighted, heated blanket on you). Me? I brute forced it. 

Anyway, Y/N noticed that I was really getting obsessed with these lyrics and doing them so that I was as close to the line of unhuman speed crossed with physical activity as possible. I'm the fastest rapper in the 4th generation and I wanted to show why I was. Y/N came into my room and said,“Binnie, you need to trust yourself. You know what's best, you have the best instincts I've ever seen. Remember, if you're about to dive in a pool, don't think about the height of the diving board, clear your mind, and jump in. Don't think, just do.” 

Even now, through all of this, you would think that a bond like that would be weakened, seeing her like that would make some pull away. It just brought me closer. I am in awe of her. The sheer will to live. The tenacity. The beauty in her broken parts know no bounds. It reminds me of ruins from ancient civilizations. Seeing the beauty in what was, and marveling at what is left. Only the strongest parts are left, the essence of that civilization. She is beyond anyone I've ever seen. Her capacity to love is beyond comprehension. 

That's why I am so happy to know her. To really know her. To be the person she reaches for, to ground herself. She trusts me to be there. And I will be. Simply because it’s an honor to love her. Money isn't an object for her. 

“Money isn’t a problem, would you like to be in a place of your own?” I asked again. I would spend my whole paycheck on her if I had the chance. She deserves to be spoiled.

“I still want to be at the other dorm, it’s familiar. For some reason I feel safe there. Is that okay?” She asked, looking at Seungmin. Little did she know that we had been talking about this for a bit before she woke up. We knew that pushing this topic on her would be too much, but at the same time, from what Seungmin told me, the doctors were never going to release her to the same house that Chris is in.

Seungmin chuckled, “Birdie, it’s not a problem, you have never not been welcome at my dorm, you know this,” he deadpanned. It is true…all of the boys over that house would get so excited as soon as they heard Y/N was coming over. They’d want to spend the entirety of the visit with her, a lot of the time they would start to pout if they felt she wasn't spending enough time with them. So when the idea came up their eyes lit up. Anywhere she goes, I'm not going anywhere. 

“Okay then it’s settled.” I smiled at her, combing a stray strand out of her face. I’m happy that she’s finally getting out of here. She has been through so much in such a short amount of time. She needs to be left alone. I am scared for her. I want her to be safe, and worries keep on popping in my head. How do I protect her? What if saesangs get a whiff that something is wrong? What if the company tried to force her to stay with Chris? What if she takes him back? That part hurt. Seeing how badly she was hurt simply because he was being an asshole. Simply because he treated a diamond like sand on a decrepit shore. The thought made me shake with rage as I looked at the woman in front of me, she looked at me with furrowed brows, that brought me back to her.

Y/N looked into my eyes at that moment, like she was tapped into my brain. She gave my hand a squeeze as she said, “Binnie? What's wrong, talk to me…” she shyly played with my fingers. Her touch was feather light given the bruises that formed on my knuckles. I wanted to tell her the truth about them. My impulse to be honest, making the words bubble in my throat. Right behind the truth of what I'm feeling.

I wanted to tell her I love you, I wanted to tell you for so long. The minute I met you I fell for you, your soft voice, your booming laugh, your corny jokes. All of it. Not just the you before but the you now. I know life is going to be hard for you, I want to be there. I want to stand next to you and catch you whenever you need to collapse. I will give you everything I have. You deserve to know what real love is. I know Chris isn't good for you. You don't need this pain, this heartache, you don't deserve to be treated like an option. You are the one and only person I ever loved and will continue to love for the rest of my life. I want you to be happy, and if it's not with me that's okay. I just want you to know that he isn't the only option. I am just one person, I am sure thousands of men would line up and down city blocks just to see you, let alone have a chance with you. Instead I said “ just thinking.”

There is a time and a place for everything. Telling her right now could confuse her more, make her feel like I just want something from her. That couldn't be farther from the truth. The only thing I want is for her to be happy. The fact that she has been used like this and thrown to the side, expected to all of a sudden tolerate the people that did that to her. 

I saw the opportunity to draw attention away and I took it as I said “Seungmin, you have everything?” “Yeah, we should be ready to go soon,” he said as he kept packing all of the random hoodies that were used as pillows when we stood overnight with her. It's been years since most of us slept in the same room as the others. Every few hours a nurse would come in to check on Y/N, sometimes startling her. Everytime that happened Seungmin and I would wake up. We aren't light sleepers in particular, but it was more reflexive than anything. The nurse would quietly remind her that she's safe and all of her boys are with her. No one is going to hurt or sneak up on her. It'd still take a little time for her to go back to bed. Seungmin and I would refuse to even close our eyes until her heart rate went back to resting and her body would be completely relaxed and limp. 

Now that things are starting to simmer down I am wondering why Seungmin had this reaction. He's been very strong through it all and he is even going against his nature of just observing. I am wondering what it is that I don't know. I just want to be filled in. Seungmin isn't known for physical affection, instead opting for annoying people he loves until they inevitably get closer to the edge of insanity. It's an odd way to show love, but Seungmin has never been known for traditional methods. 

So why is it that he’s calling her pet names and smiling at her that way? Did he always smile at her like that? It’s so comforting, almost endearing. More than anything she is sharing the look. Something definitely happened but I have no clue what. 

“Angel, you have all the appointments and all of that?” I looked back to her and she smiled at me saying, “Yup, I just want out of here. It’s been crazy. I just want to cuddle with my boys and watch a movie.” I could feel the sincerity in her words. 

It wasn’t too long after that when Han came with the wheelchair saying, “You’re chariot awaits.” I am still really worried about her. She still says the cramps are no joke. Her cravings are still everywhere too. When she asked the attending about it they explained that her body is still going to have those pregnancy cravings for at least a few more weeks. I could see the hint of sadness in her features when hearing that. The only thing I could imagine herself feeling is that it’s another reminder. A reminder of what could’ve been. 

On our way to the house I could feel her excitement ramp up. I could hear her giggles as she listened to the radio. She waited and bounced at the redlights. I looked behind me and I saw everyone else in the car smiling lopsidedly as she giggled. Y/N wasn’t known for very big displays of excitement unless it was for something that she really really wanted or missed having. 

I could see the color in her face, knowing that if Hannie and I didn’t do what we needed to do, this would not have been the case. Instead, I get to see her smile, feel her laugh a little more, and be thankful for every moment, I always was but now? It’s like I have a deeper love for her. She was already a part of me, but now she is like a vital organ, as odd as it sounds. 

As I was in my own thoughts I heard a song play, it was one that I knew she loved. Immediately I felt her hand grab mine, which was on the shared arm rest. Usually if she wanted the armrest she would just nudge me until I relented and shared, but this was different. She laid her arm on top of mine, her hand interlocking with mine as she sang along to the song. I couldn’t help but think it belonged there. Touches are a part of her expression of comfortability. It’s how she communicates, which I happen to know all too well. This had more weight to it somehow. She felt like she knew that no matter what she’d be safe. Which was and still is true.

When we pulled around the corner we were met with balloons in her favorite color on the doorstep. Her eyes lit up as she said, “What’s this?” I just shrugged as I said, “I don’t know, Lix told me that he was up to something but I didn’t really know what.” As soon as we parked Y/N bounced as she waited for one of us to come around and help her. 

I think that she was surprised at the fact that we had done anything, period. I know that she has a complex. She tends to feel like she isn’t worth the time. That was something that she told me in confidence one night. Every night she would cry herself to sleep for the better part of 2 and a half years. Hannie and I did not catch it until we started spending weekends with her. 

One night I heard whimpering from their room, when I knocked I heard sniffles. I gently pushed the door open, I found her curled in a ball, crying looking at her phone. When I asked her what was wrong she just handed me the phone. On it was a text thread. 

Y/N: hey are you coming home? It’s Friday and I wanted to watch a movie with you. Channie❤️: Not this again, Y/N. I’m working, I don’t have time for this. Y/N: You promised you’d take some days off every week, so you don’t burn out. You even said that those days are our days.  Channie❤️: Y/N the more you talk to me the longer I have to be in the studio. So you are causing me to be away longer because you can’t be patient.  Y/N: I haven’t seen you in weeks, Channie. You are always gone, I miss you and I feel alone… like you don’t care.  Channie❤️: bingo! You are right. I don’t care. My phone is getting turned off. Maybe then you’ll get the message that I don’t have time for you. Get some sleep, trust me, don’t wait up. 

I held her all night that night, I dried her tears as she clung onto me for dear life. Like I said before, her love language is touch, so to literally be starved of that for weeks from her husband made me feel enraged. More than anything, I wanted to make her comfortable. 

I wrapped her in a fluffy blanket of which I called ‘the Y/N burrito’. Then I picked her up while she giggled and placed her on the couch. We watched whatever she wanted. Early into the morning she started craving her favorite snack so we went out in pajamas, got the snacks, and had a movie marathon. It’s one of my favorite memories with her. She started off that night crying and ended it safe in my arms, snacks surrounding her as credits rolled on the T.V. 

I brushed her hair back as I stared at her sleeping so peacefully on the couch. The credits created a dim and timid light as I wiped the chocolate from the corners of her mouth. It was about 6am when Chris walked in. He looked annoyed and just walked past us as if we were ghosts. 

I recounted this as I saw the balloons, thinking that whatever is inside, she is going to love it. 

Han was first to grab her. When Seungmin unlocked the door with the overnight bags slung over his shoulder we could hear a little gasp and some talking. Han held her hand as we walked. 

“This is so sweet you guys didn’t have to,” she stopped at the balloons, looking at them as if they were the most precious diamonds she has ever seen. Then when we walked in she started sniffling. 

Sitting on the couches were 6 pillow sized plushies, and one giant plushie. Y/N loves plushies, their textures calm her. What got her to cry though, was what each of them represented. The one giant plushie was an angel. The other 6 were a lioness, a crown, a bird, a sunflower , Anya, and the National flower of Korea, the mugunghwa, the symbol of eternal beauty, that one has to be Minho’s. 

I have no clue where he even found some of these. Especially the lioness, that one represented I.N.’s nickname for her. Whenever anyone tried to mess with us he always said, “if you think the wolf is bad wait until the lioness hears about this.”

She started crying, “they…. They’re all my nicknames. The ones you gave me.” She immediately went to the angel and grabbed it, hugging it tightly as she cried. 

My heart broke and swelled at the same time. She should never have to feel like anyone is going to abandon her. It makes me so sad to know that she was so scared of losing us. All because of one foolish and egotistical man. He deserves nothing, especially not her love. Yet she loved him anyway. That is the type of person that she is. 

Felix came up to her and said, “I figured if one of us had to go out and you missed us, now you’ll have a piece of us with you. You won’t be alone, and we’ll always come back to you. So when we leave, you can hold on to them really tight and know that soon we’ll be there.” I could see the tears about to leave his eyes.

If anyone was able to do something this sweet for Y/N, it would be Felix. The way that he cares for her, comforts her, it’s like they share one mind. He knows that she loves plushies. Ones that are so soft she can just sink into them. Chris never really liked too many things in his room. So he always discouraged her from decorating with plushies. He also felt that, although they were cute, they had no place in an adult’s bedroom. Especially not a leader’s bedroom. Most of her plushies found residence in my room. 

I had no problem holding onto them for her and sometimes she would even decorate my room with them. Every movie night, before Hannie and I came home, she would grab the plushies and throw them on Han’s bed. She’d decorate with them, with Hannie’s favorite holding a bag of Hannie’s snacks. She’d also have her favorite, she named it Ollie, and Gyu on the bed, with popcorn in the middle. 

That always made me smile. That wherever Ollie went, so did Gyu. Whenever I would sleep in the same bed with her, I would grab Ollie and Gyu. One night she asked if she could hold Gyu for a bit. Usually I don’t let anyone touch him, but she isn’t anyone. Without hesitation I handed her Gyu and she handed me Ollie. I remember hearing her sigh with comfort as she talked to Gyu about me. How lucky Gyu must be to fall asleep next to me every night. She thanked him for comforting me and for allowing me to sleep soundly. Even on every tour, she would pack Ollie and Gyu for me to sleep with. The first time she did it, she wrote a note with it. ‘I’m going to miss you, but so is Ollie. I may not be able to go with you but Ollie can! Sleep well, have a great tour, I’ll see you soon Binnie!-Angel.’

She looked up at Felix, released the angel, and hugged him as she whimpered a bunch of tiny little “thank you’s” into his chest. I think she realized that all of us know that she is scared. We may not say it but we do. We know and we all love her so much. We are here for her. Even if we may not be there in person, there is no place we would rather be than being with her. 

Felix held her and pulled back after a few minutes. He wiped her tears and he said, “come on sit, take a load off. The brownie batter is almost done… unless you want to help?” He smirked at her. 

She practically dragged Felix to the kitchen and Minho yelled, “Yah, I’m not done in here!” She giggled and asked what he was doing. I came into the kitchen to see Minho tying tenderloin together. She was watching curiously as he worked. He said, “it is your first day home and we should celebrate that. I’m making beef wellington, and don’t worry I left out the mushrooms, replaced it with onions and carrots for you.”

“Really? Thank you Minho! This is going to be the best dinner, thank you!!” She bounced and kissed him on the cheek. His ears turned red as he said, “okokok go over there with Lix’ you guys can have the oven first since this needs to chill,” he kissed her forehead right before she bolted to help Lix. I couldn’t help but giggle at her as she breathed life into the room. 

I could see that she was really touched that he said, ‘your first day home’. Those words meant that now she is home. This is her space as well as theirs, that will never change. I could see her trying to hold back tears as she baked. Once things were baking Lix’ plugged in the switch and we had a blast playing games while we waited for dinner to come around. After everything was baked and made, we all sat down for a nice dinner, like we used to in the shared dorms.

Right before we all sat down Y/N smiled and said, “thank you. To all of you. This experience was hard. It was the hardest thing that I have ever been through to date. It’s because of all of you that I made it. All of you mean so much to me. The thing that really scared me after all of this was what would happen if I lost you guys? My boys. I cherish every single memory with each of you. I love you boys so damn much, you are all my family. Seeing what you did,” she looked at me and Hannie, “Being so strong. Crying with me, holding me through it all.” I grabbed her hand and kissed it. Resisting the urge to nudge into it like I always do.

She looked at everyone else, “The fear that each of you must have felt. I know I wasn’t the only one mourning and coming to terms with things.” I saw her look directly at Seungmin for a split second and went back to scanning the table, “I want to thank all of you so much. This experience was horrific. Because of all of you, I made it out. I love you boys so much. Thank you for welcoming me home.” With that, she sat down and leaned into me, I could tell she was either too nervous or embarrassed.

As we were eating and laughing she looked around the table. I sat down right to her left and Hannie was on her other side. I could tell she was doing her best not to cry. I think it was the same for the boys. Two days ago that wasn’t the case. She was fighting for her life around this time. To think that we would all be here, together, a family. It made me want to cry. This is the family that she deserves. Everyone she loves, at home, on time, together. She was so happy and before dessert came out Hyunjin said, “Yongbok-ah phase 2.” Then Felix went running to his room. He came out with a giant comforter and plopped on the living room floor. He then ran to Minho’s room, grabbed his comforter and plopped it down as well. At that point I.N. said, “Movie time! Everyone on the floor!”

Immediately everyone moved to the living room and got a spot except for me. I was helping wash dishes with Minho. When I walked in I could see Minho tearing up as we heard her giggle. I patted his back as I said, “what can I do to help, hyung?” He just shook his head a bit and asked me to help him with the drying. By the time we were almost done with that I heard Y/N calling my name and asking me to sit. I told her that I had to change into my pajamas first and I could hear her ask Lix if she could change in his room quickly. He of course obliged. 

Slowly but surely everyone started changing and pretty soon everyone was sitting on the comfy comforters. I didn’t really know where to sit and Y/N looked at me saying, “I know you aren’t thinking about sitting away from me.” I didn’t want to make it seem like she needed to be next to me all of the time, thinking that I would come off as clingy but it’s nice to know that she craves my touch as well. 

I sat down right next to her and everyone’s faces had giant smiles. I looked at her and she smirked as she held onto my bicep curling into me. This is one of my favorite places to be. Just next to her as she clings onto me like a Koala. 

She was giggling as Felix handed out the brownie sundaes and everyone got comfy. Y/N decided on a comedy for the first movie and out of nowhere she asked me, “You guys were never going to leave me, were you?” 

I just smiled at her and said, “Not in a million years. We love you, we always will. Nothing and no one will get in the way of that.” She gave me an indication that she wanted to be closer so I lifted my arm up, that way she could scooch closer to me. I could feel the tears through my sleep shirt as I held her. 

“Thank you for not leaving me.” She said as quietly as she could. The truth is, she is someone that I need, someone that we all need. She is a unique type of person. After about two movies most had abandoned the comforter pile. By the early morning it was just me and Y/N. We were laying down on her new plushies. She took her place on my chest. Much like that night from years ago, I wiped the chocolate from her face and watched her form as she slept, credits rolling on the T.V. I smiled as she slept. I kissed her forehead and she intertwined her leg with mine. A few minutes later we fell asleep, with the promise of better days ahead.

[gracieheartspedro]

I Can See You

Joel Miller x fem! Reader

Hiya friends, I am back with part 2. This time, it gets juicy (; I'm planning on doing tons of parts to this story, so please give me feedback! I'm not used to writing smut, so this is all new to me.

Warnings: DBF! Joel, age gap-ish (reader is 25, Joel is 39), smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f recieving), fingering, workplace sex, joel being a little bit of a perv, reader not having a filter per usual.

Outline: After an encounter with his boss's daughter that was a bit inappropriate, Joel finds her a bit irresistible and teaches her a lesson in not dressing like a tease at the office.

Word count: 3.7k

PART 1

I was not looking forward to our usual monthly meeting. My father invited all the contractors and office crew to the conference room, where we made sure everyone knew the game plan of the month. I usually gave everyone a heads up on some delays in shipments and new clients. 

Which meant I had to stand in front of Joel Miller and my dad and talk about work. 

It had been over a week since I went to Joel’s house and “apologized” for almost fucking his brother. Last week he was hardly in the office, and when he was, he wouldn’t say anything but “hi” and “bye”. He was busy, I knew that. But I couldn’t help but stare at him when he was in the office. I wanted to say something to him. But I didn’t know how to catch his attention. 

After our talk, where I waltz into his house and he told me he liked to stare at me, I knew we were kind of on the same page. He was hard to read, I was too easy to read. He knew how to press my buttons. And God, did I need him to push all of them. 

If he liked to stare like the rest of them, I was going to give him a good reason to stare, I decided. 

I found a tight blue dress in the back of my closet and heels that were a bit higher than my usual. It wasn’t a dress I usually wore to work, but I could get away with it if I started the day wearing a sweater. 

I usually carpooled with my dad every morning, but he left before I even woke up for some reason. I chalk it up to meeting prep. 

So I grab a banana and my car keys and head to the office. 

—

I walk to my desk, anticipating everyone’s arrival. I hear my dad on the phone in his office, which meant it was going to be a rough start. If someone was bugging him before his second coffee, he was going to have a rough day.

I was the first desk people would see when they walked in, so I would be the first thing Joel would see, so I needed to be strategic in my welcome. 

I start printing out the usual outline for the monthly meeting, glancing up at the door every time it opened. As I was the last page printed, I grabbed my highlighter and started highlighting the most important parts of the meeting. It was routine at this point. 

I lean over my desk, my sweater hanging off my shoulders. I hear the door open and I lock eyes with Joel. And behind him, Tommy. 

He had wet hair, I could tell he must’ve been in a rush this morning. He wears a blue short sleeve button up and dark wash blue jeans. His boots are filthy from mud, which always tracks through the office. 

“Mornin’ Millers,” I say plainly, trying not to make it too obvious I was trying to grab his attention. 

“Mornin’,” Joel says groggily, “Everyone here before us?”

I finish my last line of highlighter and stand up straighter to really face him, “Yes sir.”

Tommy doesn’t say anything, just stares at me with wonder in his eyes. Man this guy saw my tits too, I think for a second. The thought makes me cringe a bit. 

Tommy doesn’t frequent the office often since he’s not the boss of the work sites. He’s mainly Joel’s little helper. He always attends the meetings, just in case Joel or my dad need him to pick up slack somewhere. 

Joel doesn’t say anything, just opens the conference room door. He waves Tommy in, trying to grab his attention away from me. Joel stands against the door, waiting. 

“I’ll be in a second,” I say, grabbing all my pens and my phone, “Don’t wait up.”

He rolls his eyes and lets go of the door, letting it slam behind him. 

Play it cool.

My dad finally comes out of his office, giving me a confused look as I head to the door. 

“What’s the occasion?” He questions, gesturing towards my dress.

“You’re always bitching that I’m not even trying to dress business-y and now here I am, trying, and you-”

“Whatever, hun, just lets get this meeting done. I have a lot of shit to deal with when this is over. Got a long day of meetings downtown.”

I nod, knowingly. 

My heels clack against the marbled floor as I waltz into the room of about 8 men. 

The thing about being the boss’s daughter is, the men that work for him are never going to blatantly ogle you. They will do it when he’s not looking. So when Dad was setting up his screen on the TV, I watched as the older contractors stared at me up and down. I am not a very self conscious person, but old men just gross me out. These guys were old enough to be my grandfather at this point. 

Joel was different. He always kept his head down and looked outside the huge window, unless he had a genuine question. He always stayed later focused at work. No funny business. 

Today, I needed his full, undivided attention. 

So I slip my sweater off and start handing out the outlines. I get a few confused looks, but I keep my composure. 

“Okay gentlemen, good morning,” My dad starts, “We got a lot of shit this week. We have to finish the Locklane Property this Friday. I am having Joel oversee everything is in order there. The check hasn’t fully cleared, so we need everything perfect. It’s a big payday.”

I find my seat next to my dad, right across from Joel and Tommy. 

“The last few shipments for the Brier Woods property are delayed by the way,” I purse my lips, “But I can try to make some calls to speed that up. I know we need it done ASAP.”

“Any status on those kitchen sinks you put in for last month?” Joel asks, directing his question at me. I cock my eyebrow, not expecting a question from him so quickly.

“Not yet,” I lean back in my chair, “But when I get in touch with them, you’re the first person I’ll call.”

“Much ‘preciated,” He mumbles, his eyes go back to scanning the outline. My dad starts his normal speech about not staying on the job too long and how he wants to make sure his crews are being treated fairly. This was normally directed to the older contractors, who treated their crews like shit and constantly overworked them. 

The meeting is usually about 30 minutes long, so when we finish up final talks, my dad practically races back to his office to grab his car keys and leave for downtown. All the other men mosy out of the room and to their work trucks. I watch Tommy eyeball me from across the room while I clean up some spilled coffee and all the outlines littering the table. I look up at him, giving him a slight nod and wave. 

“Have a good day, Tommy,” I say, acknowledging him for the first time since almost fucking him. He smiles, giving me a kurt nod. He walks out of the room with another guy, while Joel hangs around typing on his phone. 

Once he notices everyone is gone, he speaks up. 

“That a new dress?”

My heart rate picks up. I clutch the papers against my chest, “Not new, just never worn.”

He stands up, putting a tooth pick in his mouth. 

“Never wear it again,” He says sternly. I watch him come closer to me, his shoulder lined up next to mine, “Ya’ tease.”

He starts for the door, leaving me as practically a puddle on the floor. 

I find my voice, grabbing his wrist to prevent him from walking further, “Only if by the end of the day, you’re the one taking it off.”

I never have seen a man move so fast, turning on his heels to face me. He’s centimeters away, I can smell his aftershave and his shampoo. 

“Playin’ a dangerous game there, sweetheart,” He murmurs, “You know better, right?”

I smile, inching closer, “Guess I don’t.”

He doesn’t smile back at the little game I’m trying to play, “I’m comin’ back on my lunch.”

And he leaves.

—-

I was just glad that everyone left at the same time during the day for lunch in the office. 

When 12 o’clock hits, everyone in the office bids me farewell for their hour and a half lunch. As one of the assistants opens the front door to leave, she holds the door for, you guessed it, Joel. He strides over to my desk slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. 

“Is anyone here?”

I shake my head, “All left on their breaks.”

I stand up, finding my way to the other side of my desk where he stood. 

“Why did you come back?” I question, leaning against my desk, moving some of the papers with my butt.

I am so nervous but I am still trying to play it cool. I spent all morning anticipating his arrival that I hardly did my job. I couldn’t make a phone call, I couldn’t answer a single email, I was so in my own head. What was he going to do when he got here?

“I don’t really know,” he licks his lips, “Just know ’m eager to have you alone again.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. After all these years of this man practically ignoring my existence, and here he is, eager to be alone?

“Oh really?”

He positions himself in between my legs, wrapping his arms around my waist. His biceps are tight against his shirt when he flexes like this. 

“And these fuckin’ dresses you’ve been wearing?” He scans my body like I’m something he wants to eat, “Has me thinking of all the things I should’ve done when I had you with your tits out in your bedroom.”

I laugh, a little too hard, “You mean when Tommy had my tits out?”

He shakes his head, grabbing my face with his hand. His hand is so big and his fingers so long, he takes up a lot of my face. 

That stops my laughter. 

“Tell me,” He mutters, “Why did you want him so bad?”

He doesn’t release my face, so I just shake my head.

He finally lets me go, his other arm still tightly around me. 

“You left me high and dry after tying up my bikini,” I say, my arms finding their way to behind his neck, “And you were too busy with the new neighborhood MILF.”

I slide a bit more off the desk and onto his right leg. My dress is slowly riding up. If I would’ve known this little dress caused such a stir, I would have worn it months ago. 

“Oh, so you were jealous?”

I felt a pang of embarrassment. I shake my head, “No, no, I just-”

“You are a terrible liar, sweetheart.”

I press myself into him a bit harder, my underwear finally making contact with his jeans. He looks down at what I’m doing, his head shaking. 

“Whatcha doin’ there?”

I smirk, using his grip on me to my advantage. I wrap my legs around his one leg, pressing myself even harder against him. 

“Don’t want anyone seeing us,” I whisper into his ear, “We should finish this somewhere else.”

He nods in agreement, knowing exactly where I was going with this. The only two places that have shades on the windows was my dad’s office and the conference room, so I choose the respectable thing and lead him into the conference room. I draw the shades, while he shuts the door and locks it. 

I walk over to him, my arms finding his neck again. He purses his lips, “I don’t think you realize how badly I wanted to bend you over this table this mornin’.”

Those same pursed lips, find their way to my exposed neck. I was already wet, but there’s something about someone’s breath on my neck. It went straight to in between my legs. 

“You should’ve,” I practically moan, “Right in front of everyone.”

He chuckles darkly, “Right in front of Tommy? Poor guy is down bad for you.”

I pull him away from me for a second, “Do you feel bad doing this?”

He shakes his head, “Fuck no, that guy gets every pussy that comes his way, this one is mine.”

This one is mine. 

I was fucking soaked at this point. 

“Is it?” Is all I can say, because his tongue is back on my neck and chest. He mindlessly tugs up my dress some more, exposing my panties. He uses one arm to lift me onto the conference table, my bare legs getting chills from the cold table top. 

I have been with 3 guys total, and not one of them had ever eaten me out. My first boyfriend was inexperienced and terrified to hurt me. He always told me “we would get around to it” but let’s just say, the relationship ended as quickly as he finished inside me. The other two were one night stands and I was too drunk to remember if they even touched my pussy with anything but their dicks. 

So when he gets eye level with my wet stained panties, I get a bit nervous. I clench my legs together a bit. 

“You gettin’ shy on me?”

I bite my lip, “No one has ever gone down on me.”

He leans back a bit on his knees, “You’re not a virgin are y-”

“No, no, Joel,” I quickly quip up, “I just never had a guy eat me out before. No guy has even shown initiative so I just let them fuck me.”

He looks flabbergasted, before spreading my legs again with his right hand. 

“These boys these days don’t know what the fuck they’re missin’,” He kisses my inner thighs, “Lemme take care of you, girl.”

He kisses my inner thighs, taking his sweet time. Watching him from this angle reminds me of seeing him trying to get those serving plates. He was so handsome, his dark hair falling around his ears. 

His lips eventually find my mound, which sends me into a moaning mess. I lean back, resting my elbows on the table. He uses one hand to keep me in my position, all while using the other to pull my panties off. 

He looks so focused, so driven and hungry. 

“Please,” I whimper, “Please Joel, do something.”

He smirks, “Very eager, little one.”

He licks one long stripe on my slit, my whole body freezes up for a second. He continues, diving deeper into me. He swirls his tongue everywhere. The sounds are pornographic, wet and so fucking hot. 

He presses harder down on my stomach, trying to keep me from moving. 

He brings his other hand up, his two fingers run through my heat. He releases my stomach for a moment, standing up from his spot on the floor. He then lifts his other hand up to my face. 

“Suck ‘em baby, get them nice and wet.”

I grab them with one hand, sticking them into my mouth. I lick and suck them like my life depended on it. Joel’s eyes get darker watching me moan around his fingers. He removes them, those two fingers finding my slit. 

“Gonna open you up some,” he mutters, “Not done eating ya.”

He returns to his knees, using his middle and ring finger now. He’s pushing them in skillfully, before pressing his lips onto my mound again. He starts fucking me slowly, his tongue running up and down my hot slit. 

He sets a pace, his fingers hooking inside me a bit, pressing me in spots I didn’t even know existed. 

“Holy fuck-” I groan, my hands finding his hair, “Don’t stop.”

His mouth finds my clit again, and that’s when I know I’m done for. He’s sucking so good, I can’t even think straight. 

Between the sounds and his expertise, I feel that familiar build up I feel when I’m touching myself. It feels hot in my lower stomach. I feel my legs and arms tense up. He feels it too, removing his mouth from me and focusing on using his fingers. 

“You gonna cum on my fingers? Go on, cum for me.” 

It throws me over the edge, my whole body tenses up. As I do that, his hands leave my tight hole and he starts to rub his entire hand over my clit. The continuous stimulation makes me feel something I’ve never felt before. I watch his jaw tighten as I cum all over him. 

“Jesus, fucking Christ, Joel.”

As I’m trying to catch my breath, I notice him undoing his belt. 

“I’m not done yet, girl,” He mumbles, “I still have so much I want to do to you.”

He pulls his pants down, keeping his shirt on. But I wanted to see all of him. 

“Take your shirt off,” I say, “I want to see you.”

“No time for that,” He groans, letting his dick free from his briefs. 

I practically gasp. 

He’s fucking huge. Bigger than I’ve ever been with, for sure. I knew he’d be hung, but for God’s sake, was that going to fit in me?

“Don’t worry, little one,” He says, noticing my jarred face, “It’ll fit.”

It’s like he reading my fucking mind. 

He finds his way on top of me. I realize all this foreplay, and he still hasn’t kissed me. 

“Joel,” I murmur, his face inches from me, “Kiss me.”

I capture his lips before he can respond. 

It was a patient kiss, at first. When I try to slip my tongue into his mouth, he starts to get a little more passionate with it. I can taste myself on his tongue, which turns me on more than I thought it would.

I was so lost in the kiss, I didn’t even realize he was starting to run his dick along my entrance. When it touches my clit, I pull away from the kiss with a hiss.

“Gonna ease it in,” He grabs ahold of his shaft, guiding it through my heat before settling right on my entrance. 

He pushes forward. I’ve never felt such delicious pressure in my life. I was still sensitive from the first orgasm, that as soon as he continued pressing himself into me, I was a moaning mess. 

He grabs my face again, pulling me up to meet his eyes. 

“More,” I moan, relaxing a bit so he could fill me up. And fill me up he did. 

“Goddamn,” He groans, “So fuckin’ tight.”

Once I adjust for a moment, he removes his hand from my face and lifts my legs up and places them around his hips. I notice I still have my heels on, which only feeds into this workplace fantasy I had imagined before he got here. God this was so dirty. 

He starts to move, his hips snapping into mine at a gentle pace. But something comes over me while he grinding into me. 

He’s watching himself disappear inside me, taking his time. 

“Joel,” I moan, “Fuck me harder.”

He chuckles lowly, “Oh, you ready for that?”

“Pleas-”

He snaps forward, settling into a brutal pace. I couldn’t help but moan out whenever his pelvis rubbed against me for a second. The table was squeaking and moving under us, but Joel just held me in place while pounding into me.

He reaches out, wrapping his hand around my throat. 

“Gonna be a good girl for me,” He’s clenching his teeth while he fucks me, like he’s holding back a little, “Aren’t ya?”

“Yes, sir, yes,” I strain out, not even realizing what I’m saying. 

“Oh my god, girl,” He’s going even faster, like he’s chasing his own orgasm, “Keep sayin’ that.”

He puts those expert fingers to good use again, reaching between us, and finding my clit. It takes less than a minute for him to get me back to the edge, my body starts shaking involuntarily. I had no control over it. 

“Oh my god, please sir!”

I lurch up, wrapping my entire body around him. 

“Squeezing me, baby,” He moans, “That’s right baby, cum all over this cock.”

It’s something I’ve never experienced while having sex. The concept of cumming at the same time seemed like something that only happened in porn or my favorite romance novels. 

But we did. 

We moan in unison, falling over the edge of our highs. He goes to pull out, but I hold him tighter, making him cum right inside me. As soon as we catch our breaths, he let’s go of my upper body slowly. 

“I came inside ya,” He mutters, easing himself out of me. It makes me feel so unbelievably empty. 

“I’m on birth control,” I explain, in between my gasps, “Wanted you to.”

He starts to pull his pants up, stuffing his softening cock into his briefs and away from my view. When he notices me staring, he stands back, getting a good look of me. 

“You look so fucking hot with my cum leaking out of you.”

A sentence I never thought I’d ever hear from Joel Miller. 

I smile, finding my footing on the ground, still kind of wobbly from having the life fucked out of me. I shimmy my dress down to cover my ass again. I glance around the room, trying to find my underwear. He knows exactly what I’m looking for, clearing his throat. 

I look up at him and see he has my underwear on his pointer finger. He gestures for me to grab them, but I think of an even better idea. I grab them from him and ball them up. I grab his belt loop, pulling him towards me. I slide the panties in his back pocket, all the while giving him a shit eating grin. 

“You’re bad news, little one.”

[gingiesworld]

Fatal Attraction

Chapter One

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader/ Wanda Maximoff x Jarvis Stark

Warnings : Fluff. Angst.

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop

18+ MINORS DNI

Wanda Maximoff, was known as Jarvis Stark's new wife, and NYU graduate, that was all. Once Jarvis had gotten a job at his father's company, Wanda had quickly adjusted to the stay at home housewife. Even after she had done her morning chores and meal preps, she wasted a majority of the day either sitting on the sofa watching TV or just staring out of the window at the bustling city below. Even her latest conversations with Jarvis made her want to retreat from him.

"I think we should try for a baby." He told her as her eyes widened.

"What?" She almost yelled across the table from him.

"We're married now." He stated.

"Barely." She told him as he shrugged.

"I have a steady job and income, we can provide for a baby Wanda." He smiled at her as she shook her head no.

"I don't want a baby Vis." She told him firmly. "I am not ready for that sort of commitment."

"We're already married, Wanda." He told her sternly as Wanda started to clear the table. "I think not being ready for commitment has already passed."

"No." She told him as she squeezed her eyes closed. "Being married is different to starting a family. We are both 22 for crying out loud."

"All the more reason to do it." He told her. "By the time they will be off to college we will just be pushing passed 40, an age to start living our lives again."

"I said no Jarvis." She snarled as he just sighed.

"Just think about it." He requested before he retreated to their shared room. Wanda knew exactly how she felt about the whole children's situation.

Did she see herself as a mother at some point? Yes, just not right now. Not when she has a lot of living to do.

So she made it her mission to reject every advance Jarvis had made. Denying his every need to have intimacy with her. She couldn't really sneakily go on birth control as they now had shared health insurance.

So she had done the next best thing, she had made several resumes and sent them out to multiple organisations, hoping that she may just get herself a job and a way to earn her own money and not have to rely on Jarvis's family fund.

Every day she checked the mail, hoping that she may get an acceptance letter, only receiving polite rejection letters.

"I bet you're going to tell me what the others have said huh?" She questioned as she sat with the envelope in her hand. Taking a deep breath before opening the letter and reading the black ink.

Dear Ms Maximoff

Thank you for your resume, and I am afraid that all departments have been filled. Although, I do have an assistant about to go on maternity leave. It is only a temporary position. If you may be interested, please contact me as soon as possible.

Many regards

Y/N Y/L/N

CEO

Wanda was fast to dial up the number provided, although she had waited for half an hour until she was put through to Y/N.

"Y/N Y/L/N, how may I help you?" They answered.

"Hi, Mx Y/L/N, it's Wanda Maximoff." She rambled nervously. "I was just calling up about the temp position you have available?"

"Hi, Ms Maximoff." They spoke cheerfully. "I do have a full week this week but maybe if you can stop by the office at noon? I have 30 minutes spare for lunch if you're free to do your interview then."

"Yes." Wanda answered excitedly. "Of course."

"Perfect." They answered her. "I shall see you at noon. Don't be late." With that they hung up, just before Wanda squealed. She was excited to have a job prospect so soon, but her excitement didn't last too long when Jarvis came inside with one of her resumes in his hand.

"You know, we have been looking to fill some spots in our tech department and when I noticed this on my desk of potential candidates, I thought that couldn't be my Wanda Maximoff but there is only one Wanda Maximoff in New York." He slammed the paper on the table before him. "What are you even doing Wanda?"

"I am looking for a job." She told him.

"You don't need a job." He told her.

"No, but I want a job." She told him. "I am sick and tired of living the same routine every day. It gets extremely lonely."

"Maybe if we try." He started as Wanda interrupted him.

"I already told you no Jarvis!" She yelled. "I am not ready to be a mother!"

"No one is truly ready to be a parent dear." He tried to approach her when she stepped back.

"No." She told him firmly. "I don't want a baby. Not now."

"Wanda! This is something that is expected when we marry." He told her as she laughed.

"We are not living in the 50s!" She told him. "It is my body and I do not want a child."

"It has to be done Wanda." He told her.

"No it doesn't!" She shouted, starting to get angry with every second he wasn't listening to her. "I am 22, freshly out of college, I should be out partying with friends, working a job I hate to try and make ends meet."

"But you don't have to do any of that." He told her.

"Because we have your father's money?" She spoke with a raised brow. "I want to be able to earn my own way Vis, so please just let me." He just nodded as he walked away, leaving Wanda to clean up the dinner that neither had the appetite to eat.

The next day, Wanda was getting ready for her interview with Y/N. She was extremely nervous as she hasn't had a job since she worked part time in high school at the local cafè. So she made sure she was at the building earlier, sipping on a coffee as she waited for Y/N, already being informed that they were in a meeting.

She soon perked up when a door opened and a large group of people left the room. Waiting to see what Y/N looks like.

"Ms Maximoff." They spoke up as they spotted Wanda. "Follow me." She was fast to follow them into their office. Admiring the view from behind them as they sat at their desk. "So, your resume was quite."

"I know, I haven't really had a job since high school." She told them. "But I graduated at the top of my class in college."

"And you are married." They pointed out as they noticed the gold band on her finger. "And you're 22."

"My husband and I have been together since high school." She told them as they smiled softly.

"Well, he is a very lucky guy." They told her before looking at her seriously. "So, why do you want this job?" They asked her.

"Well, I want to be able to make something of myself, earn my own way." She told them. "It's just that Jarvis expects me to stay at home and birth his children but I don't want that."

"You want to be independent." They pointed out as she nodded. "So why did you marry him?"

"I love him." She answered easily, although at that moment, the words felt like a foreign language on her tongue.

"As easy as that." They pried before realising Wanda's unsure gaze. "Forgive me, that was out of line."

"No." She waved them off before looking up again.

"Well, I guess I can have you start on Monday, Jean will show you the ropes before she leaves on Friday." They told her with a smile.

"I got the job?" She asked them, with shock and confusion in her eyes.

"You got the job." They smiled as she squealed. "Just leave your details, social security number and bank account details with Jean."

"Thank you so much Y/N." She stood up as Y/N walked around the desk.

"Be here Monday, 8am." They smiled at her before opening the door for her, the two approaching Jean. "Do you have the files for my next meeting?" She handed them an A4 manilla file. "Also, can you sort out Ms Maximoff's details for your temporary replacement. She will be shadowing you next week before you leave us to have this little guy." Jean nodded with a smile before Y/N had disappeared down the hall and into the elevator.

"They aren't the easiest to work for." Jean told her. "They are perfectionists."

"I can see that." Wanda smiled as she handed over the appropriate papers.

"But they are loyal to their employees." Jean told her. "That is one thing I can say about them." Wanda was fascinated by them, only meeting them briefly but seeing how smart and sophisticated they seemed. It only drew her in, needing to know more. She found herself thinking about them, even when she was laying in bed at night beside her husband. Her thoughts were innocent but she still felt guilty.

[ladyyatexel]

Hey, what's up, hello, I'm Xel, I truly have Donald Duck levels of bad luck and yet I do not have the rage button that makes things work out if I throw a tantrum, which feels like yet another failure of media, what is the deal with this.

The deal is:

Temp job had to let me go instead of make me permanent because the economy scared the 5 people over 65 in that department out of feeling safe enough to retire

None of my applications are getting interviews and I don't know what I'm doing wrong. Donald Duck tantrum did not assist me in this realm.

Holy shit seasonal depression I can't get out of bed like.... A Lot.

I have a convention to go to in February where I am selling art in the art show and where I will see many of my friends the only time per year.

I'm scared of everything haha wow 😬

I'm am an artist who just feels too upset and worried to art

I'm having trouble getting everything together and maybe will feel better with some level of stability? I need to do a lot of paperwork. It is proving hard. I have the Tumblr popular suspicions about my level of neurodivergance. (Fun story: I told members of my my family that I have thought in the last two years especially that I might have ADHD or Autism or something, and my cousin said, "Oh, honey *just the last two years?*" Obliterated.)

My abusive dad recently joined a cult and my grandmother thinks he'll try to contact me after 15 years and I'm fucking scared of him and that is Affecting Me in A Way boy howdy.

I do not have the money to pay rent even a little bit! I'm trying to get January and February taken care of maybe? So I can try to exist for this period of time and maybe not have a breakdown or get evicted or something?

Some real not awesome medical junk happening also because why not.

SO, I'm doing Tumblr's favorite thing and being a starving queer artist with brain worms who needs help. If you are interested in helping me out and making a donation to the "Why don't my Donald Duck tantrums solve my problems" fund, I would be Really Grateful.

I am on Ko-Fi, which is really just a funnel to PayPal, over here.

$2500 would keep me on solid ground. I'll try to keep a tally here in a read more along with a expenses tally if that would help you feel better about me! I know I've had to ask frequently in the last few months, so I understand thinking I'm full of it.

I have a commission to finish currently and a few buttons and things that need to be mailed. You could also ask for button and commission, but I am doing prep work for my part of the art show in mid February, so I'm not available until after then for that!

My grandfather used to do a Donald Duck impression that was really good and it convinced me that either he WAS Donald Duck or that old people all knew how to do this because they all talked like this in the era Donald Duck was from.

Here is Ko-Fi again. If there's something you'd like to see me post or unearth in atonement, let me know. If you'd like other places to aim your dead green American presidents, I can give you that too.

Thanks for reading and/or reblogging! Tell me how Donald Duck's freakouts impacted you. Take care of yourselves!

Rent is $710/month, so 1420 is January and February.

65 for the internet, 130

65 for car insurance, 130

65 for electric unless I can get the assistance plan up again, same 130

250 to survive at the con maybe?

Also just like food until i can get the foodstamps stuff sorted??

Gas???

Anyway, that's an idea of what and why, if that is helpful.

Jan 8:

We are at $460!

Thanks!

[letmeliedown]

please help me and my cat recover from domestic abuse

june 10: my abusive partner/caregiver finally left me after assaulting me for the last time. i have been alone without home help for a few days and am having a huge flareup of all my chronic conditions and barely eating (to the point i am weak and getting chills all the time) or sleeping because i’m trying to do everything myself. organizing community support for myself is very difficult since i’m so isolated. i really need no-prep foods, and weed for my chronic nausea. my cat’s monthly injection appointment ($150) is also coming up and i really don’t want to miss it. literally anything helps and so does reblogging. please help if you’re able to. thank you so much for reading

[edit: p*ypal no longer works, so e-transfer and tipping are the only options, sorry! please message me if you need more info!]

(*tipping is the slowest since it takes a week+ to payout, but it is an option)

[tastefulstars]

Love Me Deep

literally a self indulgent ficlet that is very porny and very soft???? this is who i am now and i wish that were me

steve harrington x f!reader x eddie munson

word count: 1,975

warnings: 18+ only, mdni, oral (f receiving), fingering, too many fingers in v, lots of lube, dp, fingers and p in v, not proof read bc i have been awake too long pls lmk if there's any mistakes or anything needs fixing masterlist

Eddie is propped up on the headboard, holding you close against his chest. His arms are wrapped around you. He’s draped his legs over yours, trapping your thighs beneath his and he uses the leverage to hold your legs spread open for Steve.

You shudder as you look down at Steve, resting on his stomach between your legs, face buried in your cunt. Eddie drops a hand down to rest on your lower stomach, fingers gently teasing your clit as Steve presses his tongue into your drenched hole.

You throw your head back onto Eddie’s shoulder and keen, panting as they work in tandem to heighten your pleasure. Usually they would be eager and greedy in taking you, but tonight, tonight was different. They were taking their time, making sure to prep you - maybe taking it a bit too far, dragging it out and stoking the flame of your desire - but you couldn’t blame them.

You’d all talked about it, in the heat of the moment the words would slip past someone’s lips but there’s never really been an effort to actually do it, until tonight that is.

Steve uses his tongue and spit and lube and fingers to work open your cunt, relaxing and stretching your walls gently and thoroughly. He’s slowly, so so slowly, worked three fingers into you. Eddie presses his lips against your neck, watching as Steve’s fingers rock and disappear into you.

“You’re doing so well, angel” He whispers, Steve moans softly against you in agreement, “Not too much longer, okay”

Your chest is heaving and you feel a thin sheen of sweat coating your body, your face is too hot and you know this is only the start of it. Eddie pulls his fingers off your clit, slipping them down further and he’s pushing a single finger into your heat right alongside Steve’s.

They murmur praises and sweet nothings as you moan, gasping for air. It feels like years, years and years, of them rocking their entwined fingers inside of you before Eddie slips a second in. You whine softly, feeling the stretch and slight burn. Steve presses a wet kiss onto your thigh then presses one onto Eddie’s.

“Color, baby girl?” He asks, glancing up at you, pausing for a moment to watch Eddie kiss and nip and lick at the skin of your neck. You sigh softly and try to rock your hips but Eddie’s hold of you keeps you locked in place.

“ ’M green Stevie” You moan, “So, so green”

“Tell us if you need to stop” Steve reminds you and you nod lazily.

“I will, promise”

“Good girl” Eddie praises, biting softly at your shoulder and sucking marks along your skin. It’s not the first time they’ve told you, having spent numerous hours discussing your boundaries and ways that you’d all keep each other safe, the agreed upon safe-word flutters across your mind but you don’t need it, you want more.

“Ready for more?” Eddie asks, and chuckles softly as you nod your head rapidly. Your boys shift, they’re wrapping their fingers together and between them, you’ve got six digits inside of you. The burn and twinge of the stretch is more pronounced now and you grab hold of their wrists, one in each hand, stilling them as you breathe and let yourself relax. They hold their hands still, waiting for you to give them the go-ahead, kissing and licking at whatever skin they can reach.

“Green” You whisper, letting their wrists go and bringing a hand up behind you to hold onto the back of Eddie’s neck - the other cupping Steve’s cheek. They move softly, rocking their fingers and thrusting them in and out, in and out, occasionally letting their fingers spread slightly, stretching you further. Eddie reaches with his free hand, the one not currently buried inside you, to rest over your hand that’s cupping Steve’s cheek, holding both you and him.

“Think she might be ready, Stevie” He says, rubbing his cheek against your face and gazing warmly at Steve, “Our girl is doing so well, she’s gonna take us beautifully”

Steve’s answering smile is enough to make your breath catch and heart flutter. He’s sitting up, slowly and gently pulling their fingers out of you, gently shushing you as you whine at the loss, already missing the fullness.

They must have talked about this between themselves because they’re moving as one, shifting and lifting you, moving you into position. Eddie’s kneeling, sitting on his heels and they place you on his lap. He wraps his arm around your waist, securing you to his chest and you wrap your arms around his shoulders. You crane your neck and watch as Steve slides up behind you, bottle of lube in hand.

“Got her, darlin’?” Steve asks. Eddie reaches for him, shifting your weight to one arm and pulls him in.

“Got you both” He responds.

Steve’s kneeling, thighs bracketing Eddie’s and you're pressed in between them, flush against Eddie at your front and Steve at your back. Steve presses a kiss on your cheek and you hear the flick of the bottle opening. Eddie gasps and rocks softly as Steve wraps his lubed hand around his cock, gently stroking and coating him. His hand is gone all too soon, and he’s fisting his own cock, spreading lube.

“Color?” Eddie asks, shifting your weight and raising you slightly. Steve’s hands are rubbing your sides and you think your chest might burst, so full of love.

“Green” Your voice is firm and clear, your eyes locked with Eddies as he nods slightly and lowers you onto his cock. Your eyes slip closed at the feeling of him inside you, finally, and your mouth drops into a blissed out ‘O’. Eddie leans back slightly, the angle has changed and ohh, that’s so good.

Steve holds your hips, fingers spread wide and aids in gently rocking you onto Eddie’s cock. Only a few moments pass and your moaning, clutching at Eddie’s shoulders tightly.

“Col-”

“Green, fucking hell Steve” You cut him off, groaning, “hurry up, please, I need you”

He laughs softly into your shoulder and reach down, twisting around your limbs until his fingers are brushing against Eddie’s cock. Eddie’s grunting softly and his hips loose their rhythm as Steve coaxes a finger into you on an upward thrust and you moan. The stretch not quiet enough to make you hurt but enough to be slightly uncomfortable.

They aid you through it, and soon you’re panting, nodding your head and rocking your hips down to meet them.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘m good” You let out on a breathy moan, “need you, need more”

“We’ve got you” Eddie sighs into your skin, “Got you both”

Steve presses a second finger and they still when they feel you tense underneath them, Eddie’s pressing soft quick kisses onto your forehead and Steve’s stroking your back and side. You’re starting to feel overwhelmed, but in an entirely good way. You murmur green and there’s a third finger pushing it’s way into you and joining Eddie’s cock.

Your whole body is shaking, you can’t stop the little trembles that wrack you and you feel so full. It’s not enough though, because you need Steve too, you need to feel him inside you as well as Eddie.

“Please, please” Your voice is breaking and hitching as you beg, “Please, Stevie, please, need more, need you”

Eddie rubs his nose on your cheek and gently asks for a color and you gasp it out, he kisses you softly and squeezes you.

“We’ve got you baby,” He nods to Steve, “no matter what”

Steve hums and strokes your sides and lines himself up, cock flush against Eddies and presses in. Tears spring to your eyes and you cry out, simultaneously wanting to raise yourself off them and move away and wanting to sink further down. You’re gasping for air and choking on little sobs, and you’re so overwhelmed at the sensation of it all.

Steve and Eddie hold you as you cry, cooing at you and whispering words of praise and love and adoration. You’re so full of them, they surround you and fill you, everything is Steve and Eddie and Eddie and Steve, and you can’t begin to express how much this means to you. That they care enough and love you enough and love each other enough.

You hiccup a sob and whimper, dropping your head to Eddie’s shoulder. There’s a hand gently stroking your hair and one rubbing your thigh and you don’t know where Steve ends and you start and Eddie begins.

“Breathe, baby” They’re murmuring into you, “You’re doing so well, such a good girl. Our good girl.”

You’re still burning and stretched to your limit but you can see through the pain and intrusiveness of it, and you can feel them. The feel of both of them, resting inside you, pressed against one another in your tight channel has you keening with want, it’s so filthy and the dirtiest thing you’ve ever done and it feels so good, so right, to be there with them.

“Green” You slur, digging your nails into Eddie’s skin and breathing roughly. They murmur something to each other, you can’t make it out and you’re too drunk on them to care.

Then, bliss.

Eddie’s shifting, pulling softly out and Steve’s pressing in and they’re rocking. Moving in tandem, one pushing and the other pulling. Eddie is moaning loudly in your ear and Steve’s pressing filthy words into your back.

“Fuck, Eds. Feels so fucking good. Can feel you fuckin’ our girl, it’s so fucking hot. God, she’s so wet for us isn’t she, Eds? Wet and tight and ours”

You’re all a mess within a few moments. Eddie shakes and spills into you, shouting and gripping tightly onto both you and Steve. Steve’s reaching around, pressing against your clit and rocking Eddie through his climax.

“Come on, baby. Give us all you’ve got, it’s your turn, come on”

Steve’s gasping, working you higher and the band inside your lower stomach breaks. You scream, loudly, and clench down on them. The feeling of you clenching and fluttering around both their cocks forces Steve’s orgasm, it slams into him and he almost howls. Eddie is shaking and moaning and you can’t think, can’t move and you’re pretty sure you’ve forgotten how to breathe.

Your body is shaking and you must have lost time because you’re on your back, a soft cloth dragging along your thighs and cunt, and someone is stroking your face. Soft words are being spoken but you can’t understand and you let your eyes fall shut.

There’s a soft pressure on your cheek and you pry open your eyes. Eddie and Steve are hovering over you, staring worriedly. You force yourself out of your head long enough to make out what they’re saying.

“Honey, come on - you gotta give us somethin’“ Steve’s saying.

“Baby, say something please” Eddie’s pleading, “Let us know you’re okay, angel”

You blink slowly and grunt.

You want to give them more, assure them you’re okay, more than okay, but it’s all you can manage. You take a deep, shuddering breath in and whine. The pressure is back, a little sharper and more insistent. Okay, okay, you can do this.

“ ‘m so goo’“ You’re slurring your words together and you’re not sure if you’re making sense but you see the relief on their faces as you speak, “y’two ruin me”

“You’re okay?” Your eyes are slipping closed and you nod.

“Not hurt?” You shake your head, no, not hurt.

You loose more time as you float in quiet bliss and you feel them pressed against you, front and back and the soft touches of their hands and lips ground you.

“Sleep, beautiful girl. We’ve got you”