#wow this got me deeper in my feels than i already was

[writeriguess]

imagine if katsuki bakugou went to karen’s diner

Karen's Diner: the infamous restaurant where the staff are rude, the customers are sassy, and no one leaves without getting roasted. So naturally, Katsuki Bakugo thought it was a perfect place to test his temper. He was no stranger to confrontation, and if anyone thought they could out-yell him, they were in for a rude awakening.

He pushed through the door, his scowl already in place. The diner was buzzing with loud chatter, sarcastic remarks flying from waiters and waitresses like bullets. He spotted a table and sat down with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest.

A waitress in her mid-twenties approached, chewing gum obnoxiously loud. She gave him a once-over before rolling her eyes.

"Wow, another angry dude with a superiority complex," she said flatly. "You must be fun at parties. What do you want?"

Bakugo's eyes twitched, but he kept it together—barely. “Tch, I’ll have whatever's the quickest. I don’t have all day to deal with your half-assed service.”

The waitress raised an eyebrow. "Oh, someone's got a hot head. What, you run out of hair gel or something? You look like a discount Super Saiyan."

Bakugo’s hand gripped the edge of the table. His eye twitched again. “What the hell did you just say, you extra?”

She smirked. "I said, you look like a Super Saiyan knockoff. But hey, it’s cute you think you’re intimidating."

Bakugo could feel his blood boiling, but part of him knew he came here for this exact reason—to be challenged, to see if anyone could really get under his skin. And damn, they were trying.

“Cute? I’ll show you cute when I blow this whole shitty diner sky high!” His palms began to spark as tiny explosions crackled from his hands.

The waitress, completely unfazed, snapped her gum. "Wow, big threats from someone who can’t even handle a little banter. You want a sippy cup for that attitude, sweetie?"

That was it. His chair scraped back violently as he stood up, leaning over the table.

"Listen here, you—"

Before Bakugo could finish his sentence, another waitress passed by with a tray of food, purposefully bumping into him, spilling a drink all over his pants.

"Oh no!" she said in the most monotone voice possible. "My bad. Guess you can’t stop blowing things up long enough to dodge a little water, huh?"

Bakugo stared down at his soaked pants, his fists clenched at his sides. He was on the verge of exploding—literally—when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. A group of customers at a nearby table were recording him, their phones aimed right at his face. The smirk on their faces told him everything he needed to know.

They wanted a reaction. They wanted him to lose it, to go full "Bakugo" in Karen’s Diner for the entertainment of social media.

Bakugo took a deep breath, the explosions in his palms subsiding. His eyes narrowed at the waitress, who was still standing there with her smug look.

"You’re not worth it," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

The waitress shrugged, unimpressed. "Good choice, blondie. Now, how about that order?"

Bakugo plopped back into his seat, glaring at her. "Just give me a burger. And make it fast before I change my mind and torch this whole place."

As the waitress walked off, muttering something sarcastic under her breath, Bakugo sat back, arms crossed tightly, his scowl deeper than before. Karen’s Diner might have won this round, but Bakugo knew one thing for sure—no one would get the last laugh on him for long.

And maybe, just maybe, he’d come back. Just to see if they could do better next time.

Requests are open. Send as many as you like.

[leneisdown]

Think about how Jolly would be on your wedding day. Its a small ceremony, only close family/friends but it’s filled with love. Standing on the alter holding his hands in your much smaller ones. Knowing this is all you wanted after the first time you laid eyes on him. Contrary to the ceremony the reception is larger for a bigger celebration of you twos marriage. High energy a lot of drinking and dancing. But when things finally slowed down at the end of the night the last thing you expected was his announcement “thank you for coming and celebrating our marriage but I would like to have a dance alone with my wife” as everyone left he brought you to the center of the room and held you close. He even picked out a song that meant the world to him because it reminded him of you. As the two of you danced finally alone for the night all that was heard was him singing to you.

Well now I think I just need to cry cause ohmygod. Ngl I think about a wedding with him way too often for it to be healthy 😭😭 this did not help but I still love it, thank you nonnie

[bxeckersz]

I could be a better boyfriend than him | Paige Bueckers x Female Reader

summary: Paige and y/n are bestfriends and y/n is going through problems with her boyfriend and Paige shows her that she could treat her better

warnings: Language, p eating (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), cheating

a/n: i’m not that good at writing smut so i hope this is good 😭.

“I could be a better boyfriend than him. I could do the shit that he never did. Up all night, I won’t quit thinking i’m gonna steal you from him. I could be such a gentleman. Plus all my clothes would fit.”

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“He just- i don’t know. He’s really jealous of you for some reason.” I tell paige, popping a piece of popcorn in my mouth.

Me and Paige are having a sleepover like we used to. I don’t even know how we got on the topic of my boyfriend but- we’re here.

“of me?” Paige says, her tone surprised and cocky at the same time. “Yeah- i don’t know. He always says i’m sneaking around with you” I roll my eyes.

“Wow” Paige chuckles. “yup” I bite the inside of my cheek. “Is that why you guys always argue” Paige says, turning over on her side.

“Yeah” I sigh.

“It’s like he can’t trust me. I mean- Every time we argue he pretty much walks out on me. I don’t know. He’s just…”

“Well-“ Paige starts. “Hm?” I ask, motioning for her to go on. “Does he make you cum like I did” Paige asks, her tone raspy and low.

Me and Paige had sex two times.

The first time was in high school.

The second time was in our junior year of college.

Both times were unexpected- but God did it feel good.

“I- well-“ I purse my lips together. Truth is, I only came once with him.

“Well?” Paige asks. “I- no.. well- i’ve only came once with him.” I bite my lip. “Oh” Paige says, licking her lips.

I chuckle a little. “What?” Paige asks, raising her brows. “Nothing. it’s just- he can’t make me feel how you did.” I reply, looking at her up and down.

“Oh really?” Paige remarks, her tone low and husky. “mhm”

“I can make you feel better than any man.” Paige laughs, her tone cocky.

“Yeah right.”

“I could show you better than I could tell you.” Paige adds, her tone seductive and cocky.

“Maybe you need to show me then.” I add, putting the bowl of popcorn on my nightstand.

“I don’t have a problem with that.” Paige says, her eyes going from my eyes to my lips. “He doesn’t have to know” She whispers, moving closer to my lips.

“Okay” I whisper back, kissing her. Her hands instantly fly up to my waist, pulling me closer.

“Gonna make you feel so good” She mumbles, moving down to my neck. I let out a shaky breath, attaching my hand to her head.

“Take it off” Paige mutters, tugging at my shirt and shorts. “mhm” I nod, pulling the two items of clothes off.

“Beautiful” She whispers, kissing me as she unhooks my bra. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful” She says, attaching her pink lips to my breasts.

“fuck” I breathe out. she chuckles, moving downwards.

“Paige-“ I breathe out. “Stop teasing me” I groan, growing impatient. Her finger move down to my clothed pussy, rubbing small circles.

“So wet already, hm?” She teases, looking up at me. “Paige.” I let out a small whimper. She slides my panties down, earning an impatient moan.

“So pretty” She mutters, attaching her fingers to my slick, rubbing slowly. “fuck” I moan out quietly.

“So impatient” She mumbles, slowly sliding her fingers into me. “Oh, shit.” I moan

“Feel good, hm?” She teases, moving her fingers. “So good.” I moan, throwing my head back. Her fingers plunge in and out of me slowly.

“Faster. please, go faster” I moan, my breath hitching. “Whatever you want” She says, moving her fingers faster. “Oh, fuck.” I groan, gripping onto her arm.

“Paige. fuck- feels so good.” I moan, arching my back. “No man could ever make you feel like this. No man.” She remarks, plunging her fingers deeper inside of me.

“Mhm. Fuck, right there” I moan as she hits the right spot.

“You look so pretty like this” She spits out, repeatedly hitting the same spot.

“Fuck. so close” I moan. Im an instant she pulls her fingers out. “Dude? What the fuck?” I say, catching my breath.

She looks up at me with a smirk as she attaches her lips to my plump pussy. “Oh my God.” I moan, tangling my hands in her hair.

Her tongue flicks against my clit, causing a string of pornographic moans to leave my mouth.

“fuck!” I moan out, bucking my hips against her face.

“Tastes so good” She mumbles against me, looking up. “Right there. mhm.” I moan, throwing my head back.

“So close. Don’t stop. shit.” I moan, Shamelessly bucking my hips against her face.

She holds my thighs, moving her tongue faster. “Cum for me.” She mutters.

Her words caused me to let go, cumming all over her face. “Fuck!” I moan, gripping the sheets. She moves my thighs, helping me through my orgas am.

“Oh my God.” I breathe out as she pulls her head up.

“I could fuck you better than any man. Always remember that.”

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Thanks for reading all the way through!

[justwinginglife]

Gimme a oneshot of Reader who doesn't have any experience in love so she panics when she gets feelings for Hoshina, giving him random things (a nice rock, random vegetables, ect.) And randomly blurts out embarrassing compliments "YOUR MUSCLES LOOK VERY NICE TODAY VICE CAPTAIN SIR" before she just fucking books it out of there.

I love you so much bestie. I will do this for you 100%, thanks for always matching my freak.

The Thing About Being In Love

You always thought you wouldn't know love if it hit you in the face. But then you fell in love and felt like you just couldn't stop taking hits. You had no idea how to process your feelings, no idea how to convey those feelings in a way that made sense, and no idea how to stop those feelings from overflowing.

The thing about being in love with Soshiro Hoshina was that your feelings always made themselves known to him before you wanted them to. Before you could even think about what you needed to say and how you needed to say it, you words were already tumbling out in a chaotic jumble. They always did. And it made you love him even more that he never judged you for it. He'd just smile the same sweet smile again and you could feel yourself falling deeper and deeper.

When you first met him, you made quite the first impression- after reflexively reaching out to ruffle his hair because you just needed to know if it was as soft as it looked, you earned yourself 50 push-up's and his undying attention going forward. He wanted to know more about the girl who'd said fuck it to all manner of decorum and propriety, ignoring the chain of command to satisfy her desires. It wasn't until he got to know you better that he realized that you just couldn't control yourself.

He'd been particularly amused when you'd complimented the way his muscles looked in his favorite compression shirt (it was his favorite only because you'd complimented him in it). In fact, you'd noticed that he'd started wearing it more frequently around you after you made comments on it the first time around. And you just couldn't stop making comments on it every time after that.

"Oh, wow... your back muscles are gorgeous, can I touch them?" You yanked your hand back before you actually did touch him and scurried off, red in the face.

"Your abs look so solid... shit, I'm drooling." You shook your head aggressively, wiped your mouth, and ran off again.

One time you'd even had the nerve to say "Do you think you could wear me like that shirt?" Immediately after, you slapped a hand over your mouth and bolted like you were on fire.

And when you'd taken up gardening for fun, after harvesting a bunch of potatoes, you wondered if Hoshina liked potatoes which led you spiraling down the rabbit hole, wondering if he was eating enough. So, of course, you made the walk to his apartment in your gardening overalls and offered him the potato, still covered in dirt. He took it, stunned, and watched as you proceeded to walk away as if you'd never been there in the first place. Little did he know, you were embarrassed that you'd trudged over to him, still caked in mud, just to present him with the most underwhelming of gifts. You still didn't know how you got these ideas in your head and why your body executed them before your mind could properly protest.

Then there was the time that someone had painted a smiley face on a rock and placed it near the sidewalk by your house- it had reminded you of his warm smile and you'd given it to him in the middle of a training session. Despite your malfunctioning brain, your strength and your skill were actually quite impressive, and he always enjoyed a good spar with you. It wasn't until he had you pinned to the ground that you felt the rock digging into your leg and you'd pulled it out of your pocket and gifted it to him right then and there. He did more than smile that time, he actually laughed. You flushed, wondering if he was going to make fun of you for once, but he didn't. He took the rock gleefully and even named it after you. You started giggling and soon, the two of you were just collapsed on the floor, filled with laughter.

At least some good could come out of these random bursts of affection and you wouldn't trade these precious little moments with him for the world. The thought that you were the one that made him smile and laugh like this, it filled you with the most genuine sense of happiness even if you were embarrassed at how you'd done it.

At some point, Hoshina thought he'd have some fun with the situation- he didn't want you to feel left out after all, and he wanted to compliment you too.

So he started running up to you, yelling something like "Your hair looks very pretty today!" or "Those curves of yours are looking mighty fine!" and then dart off; even though he wasn't embarrassed, he wanted to keep the same energy as you. It made you laugh. And he loved when you laughed.

And then it got easier and easier to be around him. You weren't stumbling over your words anymore, you were proclaiming them with pride.

"Thought you could hide those biceps from me forever, huh, Hoshina? Let me get a good look." You even had the nerve to fucking wink at him.

He'd smirk and flex them at you, then blow you a kiss.

And you went on and on like this, flirting with him, laughing with him, stealing little moments with him anywhere you could. The thing about being in love with Soshiro Hoshina was that your feelings always made themselves known to him. But somehow, someway, through all the awkward encounters, all the stammered words, all the heavy breaths threatening to collapse your trembling lungs, your feelings found their way into his heart. And he guarded them like they were his treasure. And he reciprocated them tenfold.

One day, he said the cheesiest thing about how when you had kids he'd have the best story to tell them about how you met and how you started falling for each other and you teased him for being so corny, but that was the day you knew you'd marry him.

Because the thing about being in love with Soshiro Hoshina is that it's the best feeling in the world, but being loved by Soshiro Hoshina is even better.

[blueicequeen19]

A Million Reasons

Warnings: theft, coercion, non-con/dub-con, overstimulation, forced orgasms, face fucking, anal play, oral, creampie, the works..

I couldn’t contain my smile as I plopped down in my new comfy chair in my new shiny apartment that I drove to in my new fancy car. It didn’t matter how I’d come into the money. What mattered is I wouldn’t be waiting tables at the fucking country club anymore, serving arrogant Kooks over priced alcohol and barely making shit from tips. This was all mine now. Paid off and no one could take it from me.

I had a five year plan now and nothing was going to stop me. I was going to go full Kook and make every one of those dumb motherfuckers look me in the eye when they realized I had more money than they did. They would respect me one way or another.

I grinned as I logged onto my new computer to pull up my accounts when suddenly there was a knock on my door that startled me so bad I nearly jumped out of my skin. It was almost midnight. Who would be here? I slowly got up and made my way to the door, my gun already laying on the table. I checked the peep hole but the person - a guy - had his head down.

What the fuck? I unlocked the door and it was suddenly shoved open, knocking me back on my ass before I could snatch my gun off the end table. I moved to jump back up to my feet when I realized who was in my apartment and smiling at me.

“Hi doll, how’s the new place?” He smirked, dropping a duffle bag onto the floor and not taking his eyes off me as he locked the door back. I was too stunned to speak, let alone move. My eyes moved to the gun but he snatched it up, tucking it in the back of his fucking khakis.

“This is a nice place. You did good? What did this put you back?” His blue eyes take in everything as he side steps me and ventures deeper into my apartment. I eye the door but I can’t run. He’s here because he knows what I did. I slowly rise to my feet, hating that I’m in a pair of booty shorts and oversized shirt as I turn to face him.

“I like the car too. That had to be at least fifty grand. And I’m sure this place is well over two grand a month unless you bought the place out right. I guess I could rent it out and flip the profits if I don’t decide to stay here.” He rambles on, tilting his head back to look at the vaulted ceiling.

“What do you want?” I finally find the strength to speak, my heart in my throat as his bright eyes level on me again.

“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? What do you have that could be even remotely worth me keeping silent and not turning your ass in?” His voice hardens, that playful look long gone.

I bite my lip, my nails biting into my palms as I fight to remain calm. There was no use lying.

“How did you know it was me?”

“That stole my card information and hacked over a million dollars like it was chump change?!” I back up, his voice growing louder as he moves towards me, that look in his eyes becoming more sinister by the second, the ruse finally fading.

“It was easy. I just followed the scent of someone with new money. Someone not being cautious of their spending and paying with big items in cash.” He lunges with a growl, cutting off my scream as his hand wraps around my throat. I fight and he knocks us both onto the couch, pinning me beneath his weight. I lash out with my nails, clawing his cheek and he snarls, shifting his weight more onto my chest so I struggle to breathe. I fight harder when I feel the bulge in his pants. The sick fuck was hard.

“You feel that? Who knew I could get so hard from someone not fawning over me?” He taunts, leaning down to press his lips to my cheek.

“Girls are always tripping over one another just for a chance to suck my dick but not you.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” I wheeze, tilting my face away when he leans in too close. It’s like a bucket of cold water being dumped on me when he throws his head back and laughs.

“Oh, wow, you’re funny. I’m going to have so much fun with you in MY new apartment.” He shimmies down my body, pinning me with weight and keeping his mouth dangerously close to my own.

“You can have it back. You can have it all back. I don’t care.” I bite out, slipping my hand out from under his weight in an attempt to slap him but he catches it and pins both my wrists above my head.

“We’re way fucking past that. Now I’m looking for payment.” His eyes rake over my body as his free hand comes up to tease my nipple through my shirt, making it harden.

“Stop—.”

“I don’t even know where I’d start. You’re fucking exquisite.” He chuckles, burying his face in the crook of my neck and inhaling deeply. I whimper, his free hand still playing with my nipple. I needed to get the upper hand. I needed him to think I was defeated.

“Ugh, fine fuck me. Fuck me and get out. Punish me, do whatever you need to do then leave.” I snap, hating the way my body heats as he sucks on the skin of my neck.

“Whatever I need to do, hmm?” A hum leaves his lips before he bites me and I cry out, my thighs squeezing together as my core tightens.

Suddenly, he’s off me and sitting on the opposite end of the couch. He’s no longer crushing me under his weight yet I still can’t catch my breath.

“Strip. Show me what I paid for.” He throws an arm over the back of the couch, spreading his legs wide and looking every bit the entitled Kook he is.

“You didn’t pay for—.”

“Strip. Now.” His harsh words have me jumping to my feet on shaky limbs and quickly yanking my shirt over my head, the cold air hardening my nipples into painful points. My skin flushes under his intense blue gaze as he eyes me like a prize. Like he’s never seen a topless woman before.

“Not too bad. A solid handful. I can live with that.” He says, like he’s buying me from a grocery store. I grit my teeth, moving to cover myself but he gives a single shake of his head.

“Don’t you dare cover up. Remove the rest.” I try to look anywhere but the prominent erection in his pants or his hungry gaze as I slide my sleep shorts and panties down in one go. I kick them away but not before he sees the wet spot my traitorous pussy left in my panties.

“Fuck you.” I growl as his smirk grows and he palms his dick through his pants.

“No, baby girl, fuck you. Spin for me. Show me that ass.” I turn away quickly at the sound of his belt being unbuckled, my skin covered in goosebumps. I was so cold but hot at the same time. My clit was throbbing painfully and I hated it.

When I face him again, he’s still wearing that smug smirk but with his pants hanging open and his dick still safely tucked away.

“I could tie you up and just play with you for fucking hours.” He practically moans, his eyes washing over me like a warm caress. God, I hated this. I was painfully turned on and humiliated at the same time.

“Would you just—.”

“Lay down on the couch and spread your legs. If you kick me, I’ll tie your legs to your chest with my fucking belt.” Part of me wants to kick him just so he can make good on his threat but I refuse to give him the satisfaction as I lower myself onto the opposite end of the couch.

I barely get my legs spread and he’s moving between them on his stomach, his hands hot on my skin as he spreads my pussy lips wide.

“Mmm, nothing like the smell of desperation.” His eyes light up with mischief and I debate actually kicking him until his tongue suddenly swipes up my slit and my brain turns to mush.

“Fuckkkkk.” He growls against flesh, his hands tightening on my inner thighs as he tastes me again.

“Oh—fuck—.” I’m trembling uncontrollably, my body on fire and no longer under my control. He keeps cursing and mumbling praises but I can barely hear him as he feasts on me like he’ll die if he doesn’t. When he sucks my clit into his mouth and curls a single finger inside me, my back bows and I see stars. My orgasm is on the tips of my toes but he stops, pulling back with a laugh.

“Not so fast. You don’t get to cum anytime soon. I don’t care how good you taste.” He stands and quickly strips until he’s as naked as I am, his cock hard and leaking with need. I try not to stare but he’s so goddamn long.. and thick. I’m almost worried. I can’t even check to see where he’s placed the gun..

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it fit wherever it goes.” My worry dissolves into anger again and I narrow my eyes, attempting to get up only for him to shove me back down and straddle me. I’m confused until he moves onto my chest, his knees holding most of his weight as he positions his cock in front of my mouth.

“Do I need to warn you what will happen if you bite me?” He says, using the swollen tip to smear precum all over my lips.

“I don’t think I can—.”

“Breathe through your nose.” He pushes his cock firmly against my lips.

“You’re too—.”

“You can take it.” My jaw pops as I’m forced to open and let him down my throat. I gag immediately around the smooth length of him, tears filling my eyes as he reaches the back of my throat and holds it there.

I can’t even push against him because my arms are pinned beneath him. It takes everything in me to keep from retching.

“Fuck, that’s not even all of it. Look at you struggling. Do you regret stealing from me yet?” His eyes are hooded and his breathing heavy as he slides partly out and thrusts back inside my mouth, making me continue to gag.

“You will by the time I’m done with you.” His words have my chest tightening, afraid of what I’ve gotten myself into as he starts to fuck my mouth like he would a toy.

“Fuck, yes. You’ll be a pro in no time. That feels so fucking good.” His breathy moan has me trying to squeeze my legs shut but he reaches back, slapping my thighs apart and starts to play with my clit. I buck beneath him, humming around his cock as I try to speak. I can’t do this. I can’t handle it. Tears fill my eyes every time he pulls back enough for me to catch a breath only to force his way deeper down my throat all while rubbing my clit.

“If you cum, you’ll regret it.” He growls, scaring me while also giving me a thrill of what if? I stick out my tongue to try and make room in my mouth but he only moans louder, thrusting harder before slapping my pussy. I cry out around his length, gagging and trying to breathe.

“Get ready to swallow.” My eyes widen and suddenly he’s deep down my throat, holding his cock in place as he cums. I gag but he only groans louder, shooting his hot cum right down my throat so I have no choice but to swallow. My vision is spotty when he finally pulls out, my face streaked with tears and my throat on fire. I’d never been face fucked before and I’m given no opportunity to recover as he quickly flips me onto my stomach and comes down on my back. My cheeks are spread and he’s licking me from front to back, my body trembling with the need for release.

“P-please—.” I croak, arching into him as his tongue penetrates my pussy. I moan into the couch, my core burning with need. When his tongue moves higher, my eyes snap open but I’m unable to stop him from forcing his tongue inside my unused hole. A broken cry leaves my lips and I try to lift up only for him to shove me back down.

“Keep begging. Let me hear it, you little thief.” His voice is thick with need as he moves up my back, his cock resting against my ass.

“Please.. Rafe..” I whine, feeling him reach between us to guide his cock to my pussy.

“So you do know my name.” He chuckles, stealing my breath as he slips just the tip inside me. My body tightens and he curses, pushing down on the center of my back.

“Remember my fucking name when you cum. I want to hear you scream it.” His threat barely registers before he buries himself deep inside me with one go. I cry out, my pussy forced to stretch to accommodate his size.

“Goddamn.” Rafe bites out, rising up on one knee and keeping his hand on the center of my back as he starts to fuck me slowly.

“You’re swallowing me so fucking good. Sucking me in nice and deep. So wet and tight.” My nails bite into the cushion, my hips lifting on their own as his pace increases. The burning quickly subsides and pleasure washes over me as I moan loud and helplessly.

I hear him spit then his thumb is pressing inside my ass, triggering my orgasm as I scream into the cushion.

“Dirty fuckin slut.” Rafe chuckles, not slowing his rhythm until one orgasm turns to two and my release drips onto the couch. It becomes too much and I quickly try to pull away, pleading as best I can but he refuses to let me go.

“We’re not done so fucking take it. I want to see you break.” Another finger enters my ass as he pounds my sore pussy, an explosive orgasm wrecking me until tears stream down my face.

“Rafe— please—.” I sob, his mocking laugh reaching my ear but I’m too far gone to be pissed off anymore. He gives me a moment to rest when he pulls out and drags me onto his lap, impaling me on his cock so I’m facing him and forced to ride him.

“I can’t..” I cry, my entire body trembling as he begins to move me himself, his cock practically in my stomach.

“Should’ve thought about that.” He smacks my ass, digging his fingers in and squeezing the flesh as he thrusts up into me. My hands tighten on the back of the couch as we move in sync, his cock stroking something deep inside me to the point I’m practically mush in his hands, his throaty moans music to my ears.

It’s not until I feel my hand brush something metal that my eyes snap open and I see the gun laying on the end table against the back of the couch.

I don’t think before snatching it up and wedging it under Rafe’s chin, making him look up at me. My lips tip up in a snarl while his form a smirk, his blue eyes lost in a blissed out haze.

“Stop.” I bite out, blinking past the pleasure deep in my core. He was so deep like this. I could almost cum again.

“Stop what? You’re riding me. I’m not moving.” Rafe says with a breathless smile. My body freezes when I realize he’s right and he groans as I tense around his length.

“Keep doing that and I’ll cum deep inside you.” Rafe moans, adding to that fire deep in my belly. There was something so hot about a man being vocal during sex.

“You like that? The thought of me filling you with cum make your pussy throb? Or is it the thrill of the gun? You could kill me right now and my cock would still be hard. One or two more pumps and I’d still finish inside you.”

“Shut. Up.” His words make me break out in a sweat, his cock throbbing deep inside me. I don’t doubt that he’s telling the truth.

“Seems like a waste to not finish, don’t you think?” Rafe’s blue eyes sparkle up at me as his hands find my hips and he delivers a hard thrust to my core. I cry out, my eyes threatening to flutter as fire ignites deep within me.

“You want me to finish.” Rafe taunts, sliding one hand up to grip my throat as he begins rolling his hips until my eyes nearly cross. He was too deep and stroking my g-spot while I held a gun to his chin. My body began to tremble as another orgasm raced forward, the gun shaking in my hand.

“Cum all over my cock. I know you want to.” Black spots dot my vision as he tightens his hand around my throat, stealing my ability to breathe and giving me the most intense orgasm of my life. The gun is snatched from my fingers then he’s pounding into me with vigor, grunting and moaning as he empties himself inside me.

My eyes barely manage to stay open as he lifts me so he can stand then my back meets the couch, his cock never leaving my pussy. His lips find the shell of my ear as I try to wrap my brain around what just happened..

“I’m going to have so much fun with you, roomie.” My body stiffens and he groans, rolling his hips and making me whimper.

“This.. isn’t..”

“You didn’t think once was worth a million dollars, did you? Because I plan on thoroughly using this pussy. Call it interest on my new investment.”

[bigfan-fanfic]

Got A Problem With That? (Male!Reader x Dean Winchester)

@innerpiratefun Can you make a part 2 of Dean Winchester x Male Reader he's a mechanic in California, it's my favorite fic also could you include a part where Sam realizes the collar and says something to dean but dean doesn't take it off or something like that, btw love your fics

Here's PART 1

"He's good at that stuff. Maybe better than you." Dean smirks at his little brother.

Sam scoffs. Skeptical.

Dean chuckles, turning up the music.

They've left you back at the motel - there's no way you're letting Dean travel off alone for this journey, but you're also not skilled in monster hunting, so you've made yourself useful through research.

You're currently compiling a little database on monsters through research and the brothers' anecdotes.

You're not very happy about being dragged into a search for John Winchester, but you want to support Dean, who seems to have genuinely missed his brother.

Besides, apparently Sam tried to leave, but was driven into a deeper need for vengeance when his girlfriend was killed in the same way as their mom.

"You're pretty, ah, serious with him, yeah?" Sam asks again. In the two weeks since you started traveling together, Sam has asked this quite a few times.

"Yeah." Dean responds shortly - as he has each time. He knows their dad might be weird about it. Knows he and Sam weren't exactly raised to even know about sexuality besides heterosexuality.

They both know things, but it's still... awkward to see each other after so long and have to share that.

Dean's been wearing a leather jacket and many layers - trying a little harder not to let his collar show.

It's technically just a necklace, but it serves the same purpose.

You have a thicker leather one for play, but for just wearing, it's a black chain of twisted links attached to a black circle. It's not particularly noticeable, but it is distinctive.

"So... what's this?" Sam asks, reaching out and pointing at the necklace.

Dean tenses as if about to smack Sam's hand away, as if thinking he was going to touch the necklace. "Y/N gave it to me."

"Oh. It's... nice."

"Thanks."

Sam clears his throat, uncomfortable. "Looks kinda like a BDSM thing."

Dean winces. And that tells Sam all he needs to know.

He chuckles a little. "Wow, Dean."

"Shut up." Dean growls. He's not laughing.

"Jeez..." Sam smirks, happy to get under his skin. "I was just-"

"It's something special to my partner and me. That's all you need to know. And all I feel like telling you. Got it?"

"Okay."

The drive is unbearably awkward, especially on the way to take down another spirit.

"Dean?" Sam asks as they park.

"Yeah?" Dean asks gruffly.

"I'm... I'm happy you're that close with someone. I wanted to have what you have with... with Jess."

Dean shifts uncomfortably. But he doesn't protest or shy away - you've helped him learn to communicate and part of that is listening.

"So yeah. It's really cool that you have a partner you're so close to. You're a lot less of a douche than you were." Sam chuckles.

"Yeah. Th-thanks."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Sam makes to open his door. "How'd you pull a guy so much smarter than you, anyway?"

They leave the car, already more relaxed.

"Yeah, well, it's actually a funny story..."

[thesunisatangerine]

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part one

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

status: completed

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 1.1k

The thing was, you didn’t plan on getting laid tonight. 

After a couple of days trying to settle in at Barcelona and looking for your lost luggage, all you wanted to do was to finally start your vacation. You just wanted to relax and experiencing the night life in Barcelona was definitely a good way to officially kick it off. 

So there you were at the bar of an (apparently) exclusive night club in the city–the location was emailed to you by Derek with a VIP pass and a note that said, ‘have fun ;)’–nursing your second, half-empty glass of mojito, the speakers blasting rhythmic reggaeton music, when a woman slid into the space next to you, cool and confident with the way she leaned on her elbows against the counter as she gave the bartender her order in smooth spanish, “A gin rickey, please.”

The woman looked to be several years older than you–and taller, too, even with your heels on–and maybe it was the alcohol or the proximity but there was no stopping yourself from openly admiring her. Her black, cropped top and her tight, high-rise pants revealed perfectly broad shoulders and toned arms, as well as the taught lines of her stomach. When your eyes travelled back to her face, you found her looking at you with a raised brow and immediately, your cheeks warmed. The fact that you were gawking shamelessly and got caught doing so… just wow.

Words of apology were already on your tongue but the curves of her lips were mesmerising, the elegant slope of her brows distracting, and those eyes… the depth in them threatened to drown you that all coherent thought deserted you. 

“Wow,” you breathed out.

“Excuse me?” Came the bemused question, an instant slap to the face that sobered you up immediately. 

“I’m so–I’m sorry, that’s what I meant to say. I’m–” You palmed a hand over your face as you began but a small chuckle stopped you halfway. You risked a peek through your fingers and saw the woman with her lips to the glass, something akin to a teasing smirk on her face while she remained leaning on the counter by her hip. 

“You’re not from around here, are you?” The woman asked as she took a sip from her drink.

Not really the question you were expecting but you’d rather take a reprieve over a disaster. And at that, you smiled sheepishly at her. “Is it that obvious?”

“Hmm, no, not really. Your slight accent gave you away but your Spanish is impressive.”

“I’m still working on losing it but I’ll take that as a win. I’m assuming you’re from around here?”

“My home town is about an hour away outside of the city but I stay here most of the time for work.”

“That must be nice, being close to home.” Feeling more at ease now, you sipped at your drink. The woman did the same. Then you continued. “So, what do you do?”

For a moment there was nothing but music and chatter as the woman regarded you with an unreadable expression. Her eyes glinted–with what exactly? curiosity?–her head cocked slightly to the side. Then she sipped at her drink again. Did you say something offensive? you wondered.

“I work between the sport stadiums. And you? Where is home and what brings you to Barcelona?” 

It was clear from the vagueness of her answer that the stranger didn’t want to talk about her job and it didn’t help your growing interest for her. You wanted to ask her about further details but the dismissive tone with which she answered made you hold your tongue and her question, anyway, made you pause as you pondered to answer.

As an orphan who lived a few years in the system, the subject of where home was had always been a sore spot for you even if the stranger didn’t mean anything deeper by it. In some sense, your adoptive mom was home but there was always a part of you that longed for… something.  But, of course, you couldn’t bring that up right now especially to someone you just met. So you just told her where you were from, that you were on vacation, and that you work as a photojournalist for a press agency you helped establish. Something in your answer must had piqued the woman’s interest because her brows shot up.

“Which branch do you work in?”

“Spot news. But I’ve been meaning to expand my portfolio and get into another branch. Maybe try sports or portrait?”

The woman hummed in appreciation. “Any sports in particular? Wait, do you even like sports?”

“I honestly know close to nothing so I haven’t made a decision yet, but it will definitely be women’s sports,” you replied. She nodded and sipped at her drink again, never breaking her gaze from yours and you felt your cheeks warm again. Those eyes… they were dangerous; they lit up every nerve in your body and it felt good. You continued. “What about you? Are you much of a sports person?”

And to your total bafflement, the woman beamed at you, radiant and glowing, dimples in her cheeks as mirth shone in her eyes.

“What?” you asked, a bit nervous and at somewhat of a loss. 

The stranger let out a small chuckle, shook her head slightly as she rubbed the bridge of her nose, an attempt to hide her smile. “Nothing, nothing. And yeah, I’m a big sports fan. Then a beat passed before she continued, “you ever thought of covering women’s football? There are plenty of matches happening in the domestic leagues right now.”

“Maybe I will,” you hummed, mulling it over. It sounded good actually. And then you asked, “what else do you suggest for someone to do in Barcelona?”

The woman downed her remaining drink and placed the empty glass on the counter. Before you knew it, you could feel the warmth of her breath against your ear and you shivered when she purred. “Dance, of course.”And then she was holding your hand, pulling you off of the stool you were on, and began dragging you to the direction of the dance floor. 

All at once, warmth encompassed you: the crowd immediately swallowed you both, bodies pressed on you but the heat that emanated from the woman before you was the sole beacon for your attention. She had a loose arm around your waist and as the both of you danced to the music, you took that opportunity to wrap your arms around her neck and pulled her closer. She slowed down and she still had enough height on you that she had to lower her head.

“I never caught your name,” you spoke into her ear. 

“I’m Ale,” she replied. She pulled back to smile down at you. And then, she kissed you. 

[angels-sins0]

Ghost x f!reader

Cw: rough sex, dom!simon, sub!f!reader, creampie, dirty talk, not proofread.

“Simon!” You scream as he ruts into you from behind. You two have been at it for quite some time now, and it didn’t look like he was stopping anytime soon.

“Come on, love.” He says in that gruff voice of his. He thrusts into you again, harshly this time. “I wanna hear you scream my name louder.”

Simon wraps both of his big arms around your waist and pulls you up in one swift motion. You moan even louder than before, the new angle allowing him to go deeper.

He can feel you clenching around him and he knows you’re so close by the way your hands are grabbing at his arms.

Simon hugs you close to his chest, not slowing his rough pace one bit as he lets one of his hands roam down to your clit, rubbing it intensely.

“Look at you, taking me so well. It’s like this…beautiful cunt was made for me.”

He’s rendered you speechless at this point. Only thing coming from your lips are moans and whimpers.

“You like being fucked dumb by my cock, babe?” He groans into your ear. Grabbing your jaw to force you to look at him.

“That was a question.” Simon says, awaiting your answer. “Yes! Fuck- fuck! You’re so good!” He lets go of your jaw and your head drops down as he does so. “Yeah? I feel good inside you?” You can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Yes…yes- so good!” You can barely manage words out with how intense everything feels.

“Please!” You mewl out. “Please let me…i need “ You’re so fucking close and your mind feels fuzzy. “What do you need, baby? Tell me.” He sounds so condescending, almost like he’s mocking you.

“Need to cum- please let me cum. I can’t take it!” You’re screaming out and he just admires how he can turn you into this wet mess of moans.

Simon rubs your clit even harder, fucking up into you with his fat cock. “Cum for me, love. I wanna feel you squeezing my cock.”

You finally let go and it feels so good. Your head falls back on his shoulder as your cunt squeezes down on him.

“That’s it, baby. So fucking good.” Simon groans. You feel his dick twitching inside you and his thrusts start to get sloppier. “Where do you- fuck! want it?”

“Inside! Please cum inside me, si! I wanna feel your cum dripping out of me.” You moan out in pleasure. He continues his brutal pace, your words pushing him over the edge.

“Fuck, love!” Simon continues fucking into you, your cunt milking him for all he’s got.

He thrusts into you one…

Two…

Three more times before he stops his movements completely. Still buried deep inside you. The room goes quiet, the only sound being the heavy breaths coming from both of you.

“Oh, god.” You breathe out. Your body already feeling tired.

“No god; just Simon.” He whispers into your ear.

He lays you down on the bed gently, contrary to how he was treating you a few moments ago, and falls down next you.

“That was…wow.” You’re still breathless. He pulls you close to him and kisses the top of your head.

“Again?” Simon asks, looking down at you.

“Again.” You smile as you look up and kiss him. He moves you so that you’re on your back and he’s on top of you. Kissing you passionately as he slides into you once more.

[uluvjay]

Tattoos- T.Zegras

Summary: Your boyfriend looks extremely sexy while getting a tattoo

Tz x female reader!

Warnings?: SLUTTY, cursing, pain?, pet names

A/n: I hardly know anything about tattoos and this was hardly proofread so please excuse any errors!❤️

Do not repost my works as your own

Today Trevor has his first tattoo appointment out of three to get his half-sleeve finished. The guy was coming to the house like last time and Trevor was pretty much bouncing off the walls waiting.

When Trevor got his Nike tattoo last year you were out of town so you didn’t really know what to expect but still happy that your boyfriend was finally getting the tattoo he had been planning for months.

-

Your not sure what you were expecting but it definitely wasn’t that you would get horny watching your boyfriend in pain.

You were sat with your back against the opposite side of the couch with your feet in Trevor’s lap so he could hold onto one when needed and it didn’t hurt as much as It would with your hand.

You were also supposed to be planning your outfits for stagecoach in a few days but every time your boyfriend let out a light swear word or winced he took all your attention back.

You weren’t sure if it was the way his head was thrown back and his eyes were clenching as the artist took the tattoo gun over a more sensitive area of Trevor’s arm or the small grunts he was making but it had you clenching your thighs.

You couldn’t help but think about how pretty he looks from that angle when your in between his thighs on your knees and how good he taste- you needed a break from this view.

You wiggled your toes to signal for Trevor to let go so you could get up.

“Where you goin?” He asked as you stood up

“To get a drink, anyone want anything?” You asked but both men declined.

You chugged the glass of water you poured, you didn’t know what was wrong with you, how could you find your boyfriend in pain sexy? You should not have been this wet.

You must have been in the kitchen lost in your thoughts for longer than you thought because as you walked out Trevor was letting the Artist out of the house.

“All done already?” You asked slightly surprised

“Yeah we only did a majority of the outline today” he told you as he walked up to you to show you what he could from it being wrapped.

“Looks good babe” you told him as you looked at it

“You okay? Your red” he asked and you were sure your face got ten shades deeper.

“Yeah just a little hot” you told him looking down.

“You sure? Your not feeling sick or anything?” Poor boy thought you were getting sick, how were you gonna tell him you got turned on watching him get a tattoo?

“I’m sure baby, I’m feeling fine” you let him know.

“Now cmon let’s go watch our show” you said pulling him into the living room.

—

The next day you tried to get out of the house while Trevor got work done to his sleeve but you could only spend so long in the grocery store before people started to look at you weird.

And when you returned home with only four grocery bags after being gone for three hours Trevor looked at you a little weird as well.

“Were those old ladies holding up th-ahh shit” he started to ask but got cut off as the gun went over a sensitive spot.

You could already feel your core begin to throb at those simple sounds, it was pathetic honestly.

“Their names are Dolly and Marie, but yes they were holding up the deli line.” You said with a little laugh as you sat in the same place you did yesterday.

“They’re so sweet but take so lon-fuck” he once again got cut off by pain, the same pain that had you wet.

“I don’t mind it, they kind of remind me of you and Jamie” you told him with a laugh.

“Wow” he replied trying not laugh much so he didn’t move.

The conversation ended there as you turned the tv on, however it didn’t keep your attention for long as you boyfriends groans were a little louder today.

You couldn’t help but stare as you thought of all the things you wanted to do to your boy and all the things you wanted him to do to you. He was so pretty and the noises he made were even prettier.

“Baby!” You heard someone lightly shout and snap their fingers to get you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah? Sorry I zoned out” you told him getting red again

Trevor didn’t tell you because he wasn’t sure if he was right or not but he was pretty sure he saw you clenching your thighs and looking at his arm being tattooed.

“I was just asking if you could grab some paper towels please” he asked.

“Oh yeah, no problem” you said as you ran off

—

The next day Trevor decided he needed to figure out if he saw what he thought he saw, was his girlfriend really getting turned on to him in pain?

So here you were back in the same position as the last two days, your feet in his lap as you were leaned against the opposite side of the couch.

He’d been paying more attention to you then had had the past two days and he was beginning to think that his theory was right, you were getting turned on by his pain.

He noticed that every time he grunted, swore under his breath, or threw his head Back you were clenching your thighs and most of the time today you were lost in thought.

Once the sleeve was finished and he paid his artist he sat on the couch and called you in from the kitchen.

As you came in to stand in front of him he pulled you onto his lap, being mindful of his freshly done arm.

“I have a question” he said as he pulled you against him with your core right over his dick where he could feel you throbbing.

“Yeah?” You asked

“We’re you turned on by my pain?” He asked as he watched your face morph from shock to embarrassment.

“What!? No of course not” you said looking down in your laps.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?..”

“I can feel you throbbing on me” he said with a smirk as he began kissing your neck.

“Okay..maybe I did. You looked so pretty and you were making noises you do in bed” you said

“Oh I looked pretty in pain?” He asked with a grin

“Shut up” you said laughing

He didn’t reply just pulled your face down to his and kissed you nice and hard just how you liked it. He pulled your hair making you gasp and allow him to slip his tongue in your mouth and laying a smack on your ass.

“Z we can’t, I don’t want to accidentally grip your arm.” you said pulling away a from him.

“Looks like your gonna be riding me then” he told you as he pulled you back down to his lips.

—

Hope you enjoyed, thank you so much for reading!❤️❤️

[skipper1331]

Sweet girl // Esme Morgan

a/n: based off this and this request. Enjoy :)

Esme was the sweetest girl you knew. Even before she was your girlfriend, she was the sweetness herself. Always looking after everybody, smiling all day long and just happy in general.

The blonde was known for her friendly nature but but the respect she held for others, whether she knew them or not, regardless of whether the person was good or bad person, was wow. She couldn‘t even hurt a fly - even though they annoyed her.

The two of you had been a couple for more than three years, happier than ever. The sweet girl was head over heels for you and not even ashamed to show it.

And to be fair, never in a million years, Esme would‘ve thought that she could fall deeper and more in love with you than she does everyday.

-

Early on in your relationship, you discovered some things that the sweet girl would never say out loud no matter who badly she wanted too or how hungry her mind was. She respected you in every kind of way, as her girlfriend, as a person, as a human.

You look hot and sexy? She would never say that. Obscene and vulgar words would never leave her mouth and especially not in relation to you. Instead you looked stunning, gorgeous, breathtaking and so on.

You‘re changing and she walks in? Immediately, she would turn around and leave the room. For her, it didn’t matter if she had seen you naked already - she respected your privacy. Which is also the reason she would always knock on the door before entering the bathroom.

She didn‘t like to call you the pet name, 'baby' or 'babe' she had never called you like that nor will she ever. Instead she prefered, 'lovely girl', anything with girl at the end.

My pretty girl.

My special girl.

My gorgeous girl.

And she would never place her hands in too intimate areas, at least not without consent.

-

"My lovely girl" the blonde admired as you walked out of the bathroom, "you look phenomenal" her gaze wandered over every inch of your body as your cheeks turned red. "Give me a twirl, please" she outstretched her arm, her hand for you to take as she gently twirled you around, "yeah, you look gorgeous" she admitted, shyly.

"Thank you" standing on your tip toes, you pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek, the blonde‘s cheeks turning a deep shade of red.

The defender loved the outfit you were wearing, it was your go-to date night outfit. It wasn‘t too casual but also not extravagant - it was perfect. While Esme always thought you were the beauty itself, this outfit let her mind trail in other directions, not that she would ever mention that but you could see it in her eyes and you could feel it when you weren‘t looking - she was looking at you with hungry eyes.

-

Standing in front of the wardrobe you debated what you‘re going to wear. It was a Saturday morning, Esme already out of bed, probably making some breakfast while just got out of bed.

"I‘m so sorry!" said person yelped as she saw your half naked figure, only in bra and underwear. Instantly, she covered her eyes, turning around and leaving the room. "I‘m sorry, my pretty girl, I thought you were still asleep" she told you through the closed door.

Deciding to tease her, you walked out of the room, still in the same 'outfit'.

"Hi" you grinned, the blonde trying her hardest to look you in the eye, "good morning" she mumbled, gulping as you stepped closer. How dearly she wanted to stare at your body. She could if she wanted too, you didn’t mind at all as you had told her more than once yet the sweet girl she was, she always declined, "there‘s no spicy time now." Sometimes it was as if she was afraid to look, cheeks all red, lip biting to contain herself. It was adorable and amusing for you because you would shamelessly check her out.

"I- um, wanted to wake you up for breakfast. I made your favorite"

Smiling brightly, you responded, "thank you" before pressing a good morning kiss against her lips.

-

"My girl?" knocking on the bathroom door, the defender waited patiently, "yes?" you called back, continuing to brush your hair. "Can I come in real quick?"

"Sure!" you replied, opening the door, "you can come in at any time"

Smiling at her, the blonde looked down at you, "I know but I prefer to ask" she grabbed the item she needed before leaving the room again but not without pressing a peck to your forehead.

The sweet sweet girl.

-

The defender was nervous, you could tell. Both of you sat on the couch, too much respectable amount of space between you. "What‘s wrong?" you asked the usual smiley girl. You knew she would tell you the moment you asked, the girl never one to lie about something or to say 'nothing' when clearly something was wrong.

Her hand went into her hoodie as she pulled something out of it. "I made you this" she admitted shyly, scratching her neck. "Esme!" you squealed, jumping on her, now straddling her, "you made me a spiderman bracelet?"

"Yes?"

"This is beautiful!" and you weren‘t lying. The bracelet seemed simple, just three colours in it. The main colour red as the spiderman eyes were white and outlined in black. But in reality, Esme’s knotted it more than 4 times because it had to be perfect for you. Every imperfection she saw - start over again.

"Can you put it on, please?" you asked, holding out your arm. Gently, she put it on your wrist. You admired it from every side, smiling as you looked at her again.

"I love you"

It was like the world just stopped for a minute as you attached your lips. The kiss was gentle at first until you cupped her cheeks, deepening it. Her hands found a rest on your waist yet they couldn‘t stay there. The urge to move them along your body was intense, especially after your tongue slipped in her mouth. Consumed by you, the defender didn‘t think twice, hands roaming over your body.

When she realized where they were rested now, she abruptly pulled away - she was breathing heavily, "my apologies"

You looked at her confused, what was she talking about? What was she apologizing for? "my hand placement" she answered as if she just read your mind while actually she just read the expression on your face. Understanding what she was talking about, you giggled, resting your forehead against her own, "I don‘t care if you‘re hands are at my bum"

"I didn‘t ask you-"

"My love, touch me wherever you want, whenever you want" taking her hands in your own, you placed them back on their original place before you started kissing her again, this time it was a much softer kiss. A kiss that told her: I’m fine with everything as long as it‘s you.

-

It didn‘t matter how often you told her it was okay to do this or enter the room without knocking and waiting, she would still do it.

She respected you in every possible way and you loved her for that and so much more.

She was your sweet girl after all.

———————

[luvjunie]

hiii!!!

i was wondering if you can do some miles earth 1610 and earth 42 miles head canons if they were your older brother??

btw I love ur work <333

in which miles is your older brother and your favorite hobby is annoying the shit out of him

the brief mention of Jeff can be present or past, meaning this can be interpreted as 1610 or 42. don’t think it needs to be mentioned but y’all are siblings in this au so it’s obviously platonic lmfao

“Miles!” you sang delightfully on your way to his room, nearly skipping with the excitement of aggravating your older sibling. “Dear, sweet ‘ole brother of mine~”

“Nope, leave me alone.”

His voice, sounding just a tad deeper than it did last week, echoed from down the hall as you approached.

Miles was already up from his bed and on the way to close his door, but you somehow beat him there and leaned your shoulder against the frame. A proposition was eminent in your demeanor, and it made his top lip turn up in distaste.

“Hey Milesy. What’s up?”

He crossed his arms. “You stopped calling me that when you were six.”

Perhaps you were laying it on a little thick, but you’d already gotten this far, so you played on.

“And? Maybe… I’m feeling… nostalgic.” you shrugged.

“Spell nostalgic.” He challenged smugly.

“Anyways!” You abruptly changed the subject with a cheeky grin, the dissimilarity in your expressions comical. “Wanna do me a teeny-tiny favor?”

He couldn’t have shot you down faster.

“Absolutely not. I’d rather use the bathroom after Dad.”

You cringed at the thought. Was he that unwilling?

“Why not?”

“Are you crazy?” Miles gawked. “I got my door taken off the hinges the last time you asked for a ‘teeny-tiny favor’,” he quoted the words with his fingers. “Get somebody else to do it—“

“Wait!” You foiled his sudden attempt to shut his door by using your right foot to stop it— the foot in question, currently clad in a fuzzy, christmas themed sock.

It was the middle of April. But that wasn’t important.

Miles’ hazel eyes agitatedly narrowed at you between the small gap you’d managed to keep open. You both knew he could easily close his door if he really tried, but he didn’t want to hurt you. Though he was considering it.

“Pleaaaseee?” Hands clasped to accompany your begging, you whined at him in a tone that made him grimace.

“Y/n, what did I just say?” He grumbled. “No escuchas. (you don’t listen). It’s like you were born without ears or something.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask you for!”

He shook his head, “I don’t need to!Knowing you, it’s something stupid.”

Making his way to the kitchen, Miles immediately recognized the scent on the hoodie you were wearing when he brushed past your shoulder.

It was the one you’d bought him last year as a birthday gift. He hadn’t noticed it was missing until now, and after it being in your possession for God knows how long, the remnants of his cologne were now drowned out by some tooty-fruity ass body spritz that had his head hurting.

“And stop wearing my clothes, dude. You always give ‘em back smelling like Victoria Body Works and argon oil. That’s if you even give them back.”

Yeah, ‘Victoria Body Works’ was definitely not a thing.

Hot on his heels like a cold that medicine just couldn’t kick, your brows pinched together while you accompanied him through the empty apartment on what you assumed was a search for food.

“It’s Victoria’s secret, dumbass. This how I know you ain’t got hoes.”

“Who?” Miles quirked a brow as he sifted through the snack cupboard for a box of something to demolish in an hour.

“You-“

“—Asked. Bozo.”

“Wow,” you scoffed, a deadpan look on your face when you went to rest your elbows on the granite counter top. “You’re actually ancient.”

Miles was only two years your senior, but he acted like an old head, and that was probably the fault of your Uncle Aaron. He’d spent more time with that man than he did in his own room, which was shocking to say the least.

Miles’ eyes lit up when he discovered a hidden gem tucked into a back corner. “Yo, you gonna eat these honeybuns?”

“You gonna do me a favor?” you shot back, head tilted with the confidence of your incredible advantage over him.

Miles kissed his teeth. He had an immense sweet tooth, and you of all people knew he could never deny sugar.

“Dude, this same box has been sitting in here since last month. Which I know personally, because mom sent me out to get them. Meaning your tubby-ass forgot about these at least two weeks ago!”

Your jaw dropped in shock. “I am not tubby!”

“Tubby is a mindset. Now can I have ‘em or nah?”

You paused to think. “Depends.”

“On?” he encouraged impatiently as you toyed with the hemming of your sleeve.

“When asked where I’m at, around…Let’s say,” you chewed on your thoughts. “Six pm tomorrow— and I know you’ll be asked— say I’m at Isabella’s.”

Miles gave you a skeptical look. “And where are you really gonna be?”

He doubted he wanted to know the specifics on why he needed to lie for you, but he thought to ask anyway. You were his little sister after all, at least one person needed to know where you were.

“Nunya.” you mumbled.

“It’s a boy, isn’t it?” Miles squinted, fingers pinching either side of the honey bun’s plastic in preparation to open it.

Rolling your lips under your teeth, you awkwardly shifted your position so your back was leaned on the counter instead, and spoke cautiously as you ogled the lifting of a few floorboards.

“Maybe… But we’re just gonna-“

“Alright, alright. I got you. I’on need details.” Miles scooped the entire box of his well-earned treats into the cradle of his arm, then reached the other over your head to close all the cupboards he’d previously opened.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You stole the opportunity to trap Miles in a quick hug, tightly squeezing your arms around his torso on purpose because you knew how much it annoyed him. He never did grow out of being ticklish.

“Yeah, yeah. Move,” voice muffled as he was mid-bite, Miles separated you from him with two, rudely-stiff fingers to the middle of your forehead, then started back to the room he rarely left, somehow grabbing the entire jug of apple juice off the counter on his way.

He called out to you without turning back around.

“But if you not back by 9, I swear I’m snitching. I need my door, trust.”

Your face screwed into one of disgust at the implication. “Ewww bro, you’re gross!”

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 · · · · 𝚅𝙸𝙸𝙸. 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑 ║ ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡⓔⓓ

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 || 𝚗 𝚊 𝚟 𝚒 𝚐 𝚊 𝚝 𝚒 𝚘 𝚗 || 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!OC/reader

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | CHAPTER CONTENT: POV switching, existential crisis about relationships and self-worth, insecurities, relationship growing pains, one step forward two steps back type shit | WORD COUNT: 10.6k

| CHAPTER SUMMARY: Who needs enemies when you've got inner demons?

“Oh fuck,” you choke.

“Yeah?” Joel pants, pressing the fronts of your thighs even deeper against your chest as he drives into you. “Right there? That where you need it?”

“Right there! Right there! Keep going keep going keep—”

Sweat drips from the tip of his nose onto your shimmering skin, drenched from the almost hour long session you’ve had. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve come already. He manages to draw them out of you repeatedly, even when you feel boneless and floaty and like you couldn’t possibly produce another climax if you wanted to. You have no idea how he hasn’t come yet or how he manages this sort of stamina. It has to be powered through sheer will alone. 

“Give it to me,” he commands in a near growl that ignites something in your spine and has your body obliging within seconds. He finally joins you with his own bliss, letting out a ragged moan as you feel the kick of his cock against your quivering walls. His motions finally begin to slow, and you both hiss at the heightened sensitivity of him easing out of your warmth.

You blink lazily as you watch him deftly unsheath his softening length from the condom, tie it off, and toss it into the trash. He sinks into the space next to you in bed with a little wince and groan that you immediately clock.

“You okay?” The euphoric fog quickly dissipates as you hone in to him.

He gives a dismissive wave at your fretting and instead tries to pull you against his sticky, warm frame. “S’nothin’,” he insists.

“But you made a face, and—”

“Just mighta tweaked my back a little there at that last bit,” he admits a little sheepishly. 

Well, maybe his stamina and force were impressive for his age, but there were still things that showed it. The age difference between you wasn’t something often discussed, but you’d gleaned from comments here and there that Joel seemed a bit more bothered by it than you did. It frankly wasn’t an issue for you in the slightest, and any opportunity to reinforce that to him was one you’d make good on.

So, you reverted to what you and Joel had always shared: a sense of humor.

“Wow, dicked me down so hard you injured yourself. Now that’s commitment,” you joke. 

He chuckles lightly at your toothless teasing and rubs an open hand along your hip. Encouraged by his reception to your ribbing, you double down. 

“Here I was thinking ‘blow their back out’ meant something else, but what do I know,” you titter. 

He laughs earnestly at that and pretend pinches your thigh. “Always got jokes after but never during. Never got jokes when you’re too busy tryna take this dick,” he poses with an arched brow, stilly cocky somehow even with a pinched back.

“Yeah, you got me there,” you giggle. You snuggle closer and let out a deep breath. “How about you lay on your belly. I can rub your back a little bit as a thank you and a sorry all rolled into one, okay?”

“Ugh, I think I’d prefer bein’ heckled over bein’ pitied,” he protests. 

He rolls over like you asked, but the sentiment of his veiled remark lingers: you wanting to take care of him must somehow be rooted in feeling sorry for him. It’s as untrue as it is unkind, and you want to squash every last hint of it.

“I’ve got some catching up to do, you know,” you challenge. “The least I can do is return the favor every now and then.”

He makes a questioning, muffled sound into the bedding.

“I was kinda thinking that it’s just what we did these days – looked out for each other. Besides, I think a back rub after making me come 500 times is the least I can do.” 

You don’t point out all the countless ways he’s stepped up for you, often without even knowing just how much it mattered in the moment. He laughs again and finally relaxes into the sheets. It feels like a victory over his doubtful mind, and you get to work kneading deep strokes into the taut muscles in his lower back. He sighs at the palliating sweep of your hands, and, after a few moments pass in silence, you realize he’s fallen asleep. You smile to yourself and keep massaging.

Kenzie: i turned down the double phoenix acct Kenzie: they offered it to me but i didnt want it Kenzie: not worth it Kenzie: not worth losing a friend over :( Kenzie: plz text if ur ever ready Kenzie: bc i rly want to talk

You push out a long, sharp lungful of air and lock your phone. Kenzie may be a lot of things, but nobody could ever accuse her of being half-hearted. You can’t recall a time when anyone has pursued reconciliation with you to this degree, and, although it might be colored by wishful thinking, it seems like she is genuinely remorseful. The fact that you also have your own misdeeds to address makes the idea of responding to her all the more compelling.

There was no way around your rotten conduct that night. You’d left a partially drunk Kenzie with two fully unsafe men, and it was wrong. She’d let you down immensely – had left you feeling betrayed and upset on top of everything Logan had done to you – but it was no excuse for how you’d acted so far out of your own character. The blame wasn’t squarely on anyone’s shoulders in the situation, and it made the entire ordeal a giant, confusing mess.

You sigh again, maybe a little too loudly, because Joel peeks a head out of his office and calls your name.

“Everything okay?”

“Um….”

Tell him. 

Tell him tell him tell him.

Tell him!

“You got a minute?” You know his calendar is clear for the rest of the afternoon, but it still felt impolite to assume you could just waltz in there whenever you wanted.

“C’mon.” He jerks his head towards the door and summons you to step inside. “What’s wrong?” he probes the second he closes the door behind you.

“I... need your advice,” you hedge.

He motions for you to proceed, and you take a deep breath before starting. “Okay, you remember my friend? The one I used to work at the grocery store with? The one from New Year’s Eve who sent you all those pictures of me?”

He nods along to your questions and flushes slightly at the mention of the pictures, one of which he’d set as his home screen almost immediately only to get caught the next day by your curious eye. “Yeah, Carrie? Er… Kiley?”

“Kenzie,” you gently correct with a short lived smirk. “Yeah, so, I was thinking about– I dunno, I guess meeting up with her? Talking stuff through?”

You’ve never told him everything that happened that night, and it leaves him at a disadvantage to understanding the nuance and extent of your falling out. You’d thought about just being upfront about the whole thing, sure,  but any time you’d get near discussing it, you always talked yourself out of it. 

Joel looks thoughtful, considering your words and all your unspoken tells, before responding. “What made you consider talkin’ it out?”

You aren’t really sure how to answer that one. “I dunno. She just keeps texting me, and… I dunno. I think she means it when she says she’s sorry. And I have stuff I should apologize for, too. I guess maybe we both need to speak our piece to clear the air or whatever, and I dunno from there to be honest. It’s just… complicated.”

“So, is meeting up to talk what you want to do or what you feel like you should do?”

There he went again with those laser focused questions that cut through all the bullshit. He was getting better and better at that, and truthfully it made you a bit nervous, like he could see right through you.

“I think I want to, actually. As much as it makes me nervous thinking about it. Confronting it all or whatever. And, I just– I really miss talking to her, you know?”

“Well, if you think it could help you decide a path forward one way or the other, then I think it might be worthwhile to set it up,” he reasons.

It sounded so simple how he put it. Was it really that simple? Or was it just Joel bringing that quiet confidence to a situation and letting some of it rub off on you? Either way, it felt good to finally have someone to discuss these kinds of things with. It didn’t feel like such a massive dilemma with him helping you weigh the pros and cons. 

With nothing more than one short conversation, Joel had you feeling worlds better about the situation than you had in months. The inherent comfort he brought was a slippery slope, one that had your foothold wavering on the determination to keep things to yourself. The urge to divulge more and more, to unpack all the things that weighed you down, grew each time his steady, gentle sense of calm cradled you.

Bringing him onboard with the Kenzie situation was a small step forward in your effort to open up to him, but it felt like you might’ve finally turned a corner.

It’s a relief to find the coffee shop isn’t too crowded. You aren’t sure how this reunion is going to pan out, and you don’t much care for an audience to the possible spectacle of it all. The paper to-go cup – your chosen alternative to the ceramic mug in case things went south – glides against your fingertips as you nervously rotate it back and forth. The rapidly cooling brown sugar caramel latte slips across your tongue and down your throat quite effortlessly despite the nerves wracking your body as you await Kenzie’s arrival.

The bell above the door peals to signal a new customer. Kenzie drifts through the frame and pauses at the front counter, surveying the cafe for you. You pop a hand into the air to get her attention, and eventually her line of sight pans your direction. She straightens up when she spots you, but it’s not the confident posture she normally assumes. She is noticeably nervous as she heads your way.

You stand to greet her out of habit, bumbling halfway through when you realize a hug might not be welcome – or even what you want – and you awkwardly settle back into your seat just as she reaches the section. She doesn’t hesitate at your awkward body language, instead just plopping into the chair across from you and sitting quietly for longer than you’ve ever witnessed. Her gaze alternates between the tabletop and the large window several booths away. She shakes her head, sighs loud and long, and finally meets your eye.

“Can I go first?” she asks, sounding a bit on edge. Grateful that you don’t have to figure out how to start this conversation, you motion for her to speak.

“I know I’ve said it a million times in texts — and I’m sorry for blowing up your phone – but I want you to understand that I am, like, actually sorry. I really am sorry.”

“Yeah, I gathered as much,” you yield. “I don’t think you’re the type to keep saying it if you didn’t mean it.”

“No, totally,” she affirms. “I wouldn’t be trying so hard if I didn’t mean it. I wouldn’t be trying to– I don’t know– I wouldn’t put so much effort into something I didn’t care about.”

“It’s– I can see that. I know it’s…”

“Listen, I can’t take it back, which fucking sucks, but it’s true. As much as I wish I could go back to that stupid event and make different choices, I’m stuck with the ones I made. I acted like a terrible friend, and I understand 100% why you were upset. You had every right to be upset with me.”

Her eyes close for a moment, arms firmly crossed against her chest, before she continues.

“The next morning I woke up and couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror. I didn’t know who the fuck was looking back at me because I didn’t know that person. I didn’t know I was somebody who would act that way in that situation. I’m, like, I-I pride myself on being this ‘girl’s girl’ or whatever, but then I went and—”

She stops abruptly and waves a hand in the air before tucking it quickly back into her elbow.

“—and I’m fucking rambling right now. Ugh. I don’t know why I didn’t step up and be the friend you needed, but I do know that every fucking day since I have kicked myself for it. I acted like my whole entire life was on the line or something, like defending you was going to cost me my entire future career, and it was so, so stupid. No job is worth that. No opportunity or whatever is worth risking….”

Her lips press together in a tight line, and she looks off to the window again. “It wasn’t worth losing you as a friend,” she finishes somberly.

You allow yourself the passing moments to digest everything she shared, also affording her a moment to collect herself. Seeing the unshed tears shimmering in her eyes almost has you forgiving her right then and there, but this was a necessary sort of pain. The circumstances deserved to be acknowledged by you both in your own way, no matter how uncomfortable or upsetting it was.

“It’s really nice to hear you say that, Kenzie. I– That night, I just… it hurt so fucking bad. I didn’t expect it, and I think that’s what made it hurt worse.”

She turns to you again, hastily blinking tears away, and nods. “I get it, babe. I do. I really do. I didn’t even know I could be the kind of person I was that night, and it has been so fucking eye opening for me. It peeled back a layer, and I saw a side to myself that was so ugly. I’m glad I know it’s there now because I can– I don’t have to let it make my decisions for me, you know? But it’s– The cost of losing you has just been…”

She swallows hard and tips her head back, trying in earnest to not cry in the middle of the coffee shop. “Shit,” she sniffs and squeezes her hands together on the tabletop.

You’re reaching over and grasping her hand in yours before your brain has entirely caught up with your decision to give this friendship another try. “Hey, I need to apologize, too,” you say quietly.

“What?” she balks.

“No, Kenzie, I do. I might’ve had a bad encounter with Logan, but I left you with him and Charlie all by yourself. You wanna talk about the morning after and wondering what kind of person you are? I felt so much guilt for leaving you after knowing what I’d just gone through with Logan. You could’ve been hurt so bad, and I left you there to fend for yourself,” you huff with obvious disdain for yourself.

“Nothing happened,” she assures you. “I left pretty soon after you did, and they were both at the bar taking more shots.  I wasn’t even there for more than, like, 20 minutes after yo–”

“That’s not the point,” you interrupt. “The point is: I left you in a bad situation because I was upset. I could’ve been upset with you and made sure you left the unsafe situation, too. It wasn’t an either or choice.”

“I guess,” she sniffles and shrugs. “I probably would’ve done the same thing, so it’s not like either of us is perfect.”

“No,” you agree with a strained exhale of a laugh, “we’re not.”

She shoots you a small, watery smile, and you feel the tension dissipating in real time. “Can we… Do you think we could try again? To be friends?”

It hurts your heart to hear the uncertainty and vulnerability in her voice. “Yeah, I think so. I definitely think so.”

She wraps you into a hug and squeezes way too tight before settling back into her chair and demanding you catch her up on your life. You smile into your drink, knowing full well how much you’re going to savor her reaction when you tell her about you and Joel.

You hold your tongue from all the anxiety ridden thoughts that threaten to spill over when Joel finishes zipping up the medium size duffle bag full of basic workwear and little in between. You want to go with him. You don’t want to be away from him. You hadn’t realized how comforting it’s been knowing that he lives a few streets away from you and that he’s there. It’s all a bit delusional and unrealistic, but it’s where you’ve landed more often than not as of late.

Keep it simple. Keep it neutral. Don’t be needy. Don’t be clingy. You keep repeating it to yourself like a self-help mantra, but it does little to make you feel any less self-disparaging about the pathetic mindset you’ve somehow let wholly encapsulate you. You’d spent your entire life without Joel Miller and had taken on anything that came your way. Now suddenly you’re acting like a little lost puppy at the first inkling of being away from him for a few days.

You had always known yourself as the strong fortress, ready to shield yourself and Calum from whatever you could, but these days it felt like the foundation of that tower was crumbling from the ground up. Every genuine connection and slip of warmth and kindness and sincerity from Joel was another stone falling away from your intricately, expertly fortified mental stronghold.

It was terrifying, and you couldn’t make it stop. 

Sometimes you’d even been surprised when simply being with Joel made you want it to crumble. But you didn’t know that person. You didn’t know the version of yourself who’s not afraid to come down from the high defense and unlock the door at the base. You didn’t know the version of yourself who wants to pull that heavy door and have Joel pushing from the other side just so he can get in sooner. So you can let him in sooner.

But most of the time, you’re at your post in the tallest peak of that tower. Ever the vigilant sentinel for hurt and destruction because there’s never not been a time where ruination hadn’t been lurking on the horizon. A watchful eye for the anger and violence and malice disguised as love, a Trojan Horse meant to deceive and destroy you from the inside out should you ever let your guard slip.

All the while berating yourself for being too clingy despite keeping anyone and everyone at arm’s length. A devilish whisper in your mind echoing that you’d end up driving Joel away if you didn’t maintain the buffer that made you more palatable. Ensuring you were lacking any of that pesky complexity that made people nervous. Because being with you wasn’t easy. Because someone getting to know you was never going to be easy. Because you were work. Your existence meant effort for everyone around you – and a lot of it. Because you’re a burden. Because you’d always been those things and didn’t know how to be anything else.

Because the effort required would never be worth the reward of truly knowing you.

“How many days did you say?” you ask again for the millionth time. He answers graciously, of course, and makes no mention of how he’s already told you.

“I dunno. Three, probably. Hopefully. Don’t wanna miss much here and definitely don’t wanna sleep on that back killer sofa of theirs multiple nights in a row, but I don’t wanna leave her and Ben to take it up with that asshole landlord of theirs, either. So, hopefully three? Gonna leave Wednesday afternoon as soon as I finish up with the Williams Project permits.”

Three days to address the damaged cabinets in Sarah and Ben’s apartment kitchen. Their landlord had discovered their blunder before she and Ben could get it sorted, and now he was apparently trying to charge them an exorbitant amount to have a “professional assess the damage and make the necessary repairs.” Luckily for Sarah and unfortunately for her money grubbing landlord, Joel was a licensed contractor, and repairing a few kitchen cabinets was light work in his world. They lived far enough away that a day trip wasn’t feasible, so Joel allotted a day on each side of a solid workday for traveling there and back.

“I guess that’s not that long,” you muse with a sullen frown. For a fleeting moment you think about how he didn’t even care that Sarah had messed something up in the apartment. He wasn’t angry with her about it, and he didn’t even seem to mind that he was now having to take time off work and make travel plans to help fix her mistake. It was a given that he’d do that for her. The thought of it makes your throat tight and your eyes hot. Keep it simple.

“Hey, don’t be like that,” he tuts. He strides over to where you’re slumped against the headboard watching him pack and sidles up next to you. “I already told you not to worry about makin’ it up to the office. You have the house key and you got what you need set up here. Whatever else can wait until I get back.”

“I know that,” you huff. “But you won’t be here.”

Keep it neutral.

“No, I won’t,” he concedes softly. He runs a warm palm up your thigh, and you shiver at the simultaneous electric and calming surge it sends through your body. “But, you just hole yourself up here, and I’ll make it up to you when I get back, alright?”

“But I don’t sleep good now unless–” You cut yourself short and flick aimlessly at his bedspread. 

Don’t be needy.

You know you’re being sulky about his very short trip away from you, but you can’t snap out of it. All those thoughtful texts and sweet goodnight calls had built upon themselves to the point that it wasn’t even just a habit anymore – you were pretty much dependent on those interactions from Joel every night if you wanted anything close to a peaceful night’s rest. Your brain felt jetlagged and erratic without the soothing and settling check-ins from Joel, and god did it feel so easy and good to just keep doing it. He was so easy to rely on.

You see him most days of the week, and even still the couple of days you’re physically away from him feel strange and empty. Those Monday morning kisses and hugs are mandatory for your nervous system to regulate itself and flatten into a smooth, rolling wavelength. It was the sort of instant salve you’d always longed for but never thought would be true. Now here you are feeling tangled and all sharp edges without his presence and immediately set right when he’s there again.

The altered brain chemistry he’d caused felt permanent at this point, and it was frightening to know you couldn’t change that. There would never be a time again in your life where you’d be okay without him.

Don’t be clingy.

You lift your gaze when Joel hasn’t responded yet, and you study the odd look of contemplation on his features. He senses the weight of your stare and turns to you again.

“What if you could stay here while I’m gone? Would that make it easier on you?”

“Joel, I’m just being—”

Stupid. Demanding. Ridiculous. You don’t get to pick which demeaning label to slap on yourself because Joel moves right past it.

“Tell your old man that we’ve got an out of town conference, and the guy that was supposed to help keep us organized had to pull out last minute. Say it was offered to you next, and you wanna make a good impression so you said yes. Be ‘outta town’ while I’m at Sarah’s. Stay here.”

What you wouldn’t give to sleep in his bed and have the scent of him lingering on the sheets to help the days pass quicker. But life was never easy like that, not in your experience at least. It couldn’t ever be that simple.

“I dunno, Joel…”

“No, listen,” he says with more emphasis now, propping himself up across your middle so you have to lean back into the headboard to make enough space for him. “A commute that’s just a walk down the stairs? Got whatever you need in my kitchen, and I can order you somethin’ if it isn’t. You can take up the whole couch every night and watch whatever you want. The whole house to yourself. Walk around naked if ya want.”

His grin widens when you laugh and roll your eyes. You aren’t sure why he seems so urgent about it all the sudden, but it convinces you to at least consider trying to pull it off. It would be nice to feel closer to him while he’s gone…

“I guess it couldn’t hurt to try,” you admit and try to hide that burning ember of hope in your voice.

For some reason it felt like you needed to manage expectations – yours or Joel’s, it depended on the day – just in case this all went awry. As if curtailing and containing the explosion of feelings pouring out between you two would somehow make it all hurt less should this not work out. But it was painful to think like that, and you were sick and tired of living in pain and fear and doubt.

“There’s my girl,” he beams, and you feel on cloud nine when he acts like this over you. Like it’s some big favor you’re doing for him by taking over his house and using up his resources while he’s gone.

“Yeah yeah, no promises. Still have to run it by my dad,” you remind him pointedly. “Anyway, you need to finish packing so we have time to fuck.”

“Oh, is that right? Got me a little to-do list with your name at the bottom, huh?” His arms snake around your body in a way that is most definitely not the type of movement that’s going to lead to packing, so you give him a playful push to finish his task.

“Alright, I’ll hurry up.” He stands and rifles through the empty outer pocket of his bag. “Hand me that extra charger on the nightstand, will ya?”

“Sure,” you reply and shimmy over to the flat surface where no extra charger is to be found. You glance down at the floor to make sure it hadn’t been knocked off at some point, but there’s nothing there either. You lean forward and slide the small drawer open to look just as Joel makes a strange noise that you think is meant to halt you in your search, which is puzzling up until it’s not. 

There’s no charger in sight, but there is Kenzie’s dress and tights crudely shoved to the back like an afterthought. Your bra is a little further back as well, but your panties from that night sit front and center in the immediate opening of the drawer. Unlike the rest of the garments, they look like they’ve been taken out and put back several times over, and you have a pretty good idea why.

“Joel Miller,” you gasp with an amused, scandalized grin. “What exactly are these doing right next to your bed, all tucked away in here?”

You’re certain if you held a hand close enough to Joel’s cheeks right now you’d be able to feel the heat rolling off them in waves. His mouth opens and closes dumbly while he stands there speechless. Getting caught red handed looked pretty damn good on him.

“It’s not what it— I didn’t — I’m not a pervert,” he sputters. “It was just a coupla times, I swear.”

“Oh, you’re not a pervert, Joel,” you contend with a honeyed, low voice as you crawl on the bed towards him. “You’re a deviant.”

His shoulders relax a bit when you start to giggle furiously, clearly amused at discovering his little secret. “Quit it,” he appeals weakly. “S’embarrassing.”

“It’s only embarrassing,” you amend, quickly standing and wiggling out of your jeans, “if the thought of you masturbating to my used panties like some dirty little secret wasn’t so hot.”

His pupils swell as he watches you tug your panties off and put your jeans back on. His gaze follows your hand as you unzip his duffle bag and drop them right on top of all his items before zipping it back up.

“So from one deviant to another, those are on the house,” you say and pat the duffle bag where the brand new used panties rest inside. “You know, for all your travel needs.”

You give him a playful wink and plant a little kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Nothin’ but trouble,” he huffs in a laugh. 

All the worry about whether or not your dad would buy the story of heading out of town last minute for a work convention was pointless because he barely even listened as you stuttered through the lines. You hadn’t been that bad at lying in a long time, and you think it might be that you wanted this so badly. You got to see Joel almost every day of the week in person and through video calls on top of that, and the idea of him suddenly being gone even when you knew he’d be back made you feel jittery.

The universe finally took pity on you, it seems, because your dad was so wrapped up in winning over Denise’s family that he didn’t even seem to care that you’ll be “out of town.” One less thing for him to manage, you suppose. You wonder if having an empty house was preferable in the event Denise or her family wanted to stop by or have a nice dinner. If you were out of town, he wouldn’t have to decide whether or not he should acknowledge your existence to them.

Regardless, once this effort of making a good impression passes, you’re sure he’ll double back to you and start something over you up and leaving. As if you could control things like last minute business trips, even if it was all made up anyway. It never mattered if something was literally impossible to control. It would still be your fault somehow.

But for now it meant enough wiggle room to get out of the house for a few days. It meant freedom to exist in Joel’s space while he was away. It meant a calm, quiet, and serene night – every night. You felt like you could cry from relief.

The day had finally come to head out to Sarah and Ben’s. It’s not been more than a few hours since he kissed you goodbye, and he already misses you like crazy. He’d anticipated it, of course, but not so soon. Not like a little lovesick schmuck, glum and pitiful without their special companion. At least he didn’t have to worry about you staying in your own house while he was gone. Your dad bought whatever line you fed him about traveling for work, and Joel’s chest relaxed the moment you told him. You staying in his house with his things around you was the closest he could get to keeping an eye on you in person.

He’s just under 30 minutes out from Sarah and Ben’s when a text notification from you pops up. He needs to stop for something to snack on anyway, so he pulls off the highway and into the closest convenience store parking lot. He swipes on his phone until your text thread fills his screen, and his eyes bug out at what’s staring back at him. 

You’re propped up in his home office chair with your legs spread wide and knees hooked over the edge of the armrests on either side. You’re wearing one of his t-shirts and nothing else. One hand is lifting the hem of his shirt up just above your mound, and the other has fingers dancing close to your bare pussy. He doesn’t even think twice before clicking it open and zooming in, groaning a little at what he wants to imagine is a little wetness spreading between your folds. It takes him a solid 5 minutes of staring to realize you’d texted a caption with the picture.

You: a benefit of wfh → no bra no pants and no panties 🤭 You: miss you ❤️this shirt smells like you the most so I decided to wear it

“Fucking christ,” he mutters under his breath.

He doesn’t know where this emboldened version of you came from, but he always knew something was trapped under the surface of all your guarded demeanor. Now it’s like a switch has been flipped, and he’s grateful to see you so open if not a bit of a handful. He likes to think he can keep up with you, but you keep knocking him on his ass with this sweet, sexy confidence you’ve had as of late.

Joel: Holy shit I stop for gas and see this? 🤯 Joel: You look so fucking good wearing my shirt. Joel: Both of us just might have to have a work from home day if that’s the dress code. 🥵

You: wanted you to know I was thinking about you You: and maybe give you a reason to think about me too Joel audibly laughs at that. The notion is entirely ridiculous that you aren’t constantly in his thoughts, that he isn’t incessantly thinking about how to spend more time with you.

Joel: I’m always thinking about you!

Joel: But now I’m thinking about you while I’m in the middle of a parking lot trying to decide if I can do anything about this hardon you gave me. Lol. 😵

You: show me

Joel adjusts in his seat and fiddles with the angles for a minute or so before finally settling on a straight down shot of his hand palming the tent in his jeans. He sends the picture and waits.

You: looks good, baby You: want it right here

His cock jumps when he sees the accompanying picture of your pussy close up, being spread by your pointer and middle finger in a wide V. It’s definitely wetter than in the first picture. He doesn’t even need to zoom to see it. By the time he’s saved your photos to his camera roll, another text from you has come through. His cock and heart both jump this time when he sees it’s a video file. He taps the play icon and hunches over the screen, already fully absorbed in whatever you’ve sent.

The video starts on a closeup of your mouth with your middle finger bobbing in and out. You spit more saliva onto it when you remove it, and you let it make a long, slimy trail that connects from your fingertip to your tongue. You guide the camera down to your pussy and press your wet finger against your clit. Joel turns up the volume and rewinds the clip about 4 seconds just so he can hear any noise you make when you finally touch yourself.

It’s the smallest little dreamy sigh, and it makes his erection borderline painful. He has to take it out of his pants when he realizes the slow, deliberate motions you’re making on your clit are spelling out his name, almost like a little game between the two of you at this point. He peers around the lot and breathes a sigh of relief that it’s not too busy. There’s no occupied vehicles nearby, but that doesn’t guarantee someone won’t be walking to one of the empty cars around his truck, either. He considers digging into his bag for a half second after the worn panties you’d tucked inside, but he decides against it. He was already in enough trouble as it was keeping himself poised.

Joel: Can you send one of you putting a finger in there for me, sweet girl? Joel: Miss that sweet pussy already. Joel: Had to take my dick out it was pressing on my zipper so bad.

You: not as much as she misses you ;( You: sorry about the zipper You: hope this helps ❤️

The next video you send makes him grip the base of his cock to keep it from making an explosive mess everywhere. He grabs up some napkins and spits into his hand before tapping the play button and stroking himself. He can’t quite tell what you’ve got the phone propped on, but you’re on the ground with your ass in the air and a hand reached around from below you to slowly pump two fingers in and out of yourself. He can see your asshole pucker whenever you hit a spot that feels really good, and then his brain is thinking about if you’d ever want to try that with him.

“Yeah, just like that,” he whispers to no one as he tries to discreetly jack off. “Stretch it for me, sweetheart.”

He’s already blowing his load about six strokes in, the divine song of your whimpers and moans making it happen quickly. He’s panting, eyes darting around to ensure no one has seen him, and he doesn’t come down

before you’re locking eyes with the screen with a little smile and stopping the recording. He cleans himself up with the dry, rough napkins he’d thankfully had stashed in the console and sends a reply.

Joel: Literally just jacked off in the middle of a parking lot because of you. Joel: You make me crazy. Joel: 😰🍆✊💦😵‍💫🛻

You: feelings mutual, baby 🥰 You: just came really hard thinking about you

He hopes to god that what you’re saying is true and that you feel as strongly for him as he does for you because he doesn’t know if he could take it if the opposite were true. He saves the video to his phone for later, thinking of an opportunity to watch it again with the panties you’d tucked into his bag, all crammed against his nostrils and mouth. He feels like a dirty old man, and it makes him laugh to himself knowing how much you’d love that.

Joel made it back in record time and without having to even push the speed limit that much. It did little to quell his antsy mood, though, still eager to get back to you. Even Sarah had taken note of his distractedness and at one point even made the comment “who are you smiling at?” when she’d caught him grinning at his phone like an idiot over a dinner selfie with a cheesy little pun you’d sent him. He’d done a poor job of shrugging off her needling, and thankfully she dropped it after a little while. It didn’t stop her from making another comment about getting back home to “take care of things” and looking triumphant when he’d confirmed her suspicions by doing a piss poor job of hiding how flustered it made him.

He throws the truck into park and slings his bag over his shoulder, bounding up the front steps and wiggling the key into the lock as fast as he can without scratching the plate. You hadn’t replied to his text from an hour ago about how he’d be home soon, and it made him all the more anxious to see you. The house is quiet and dark even though it’s not far past five o’clock. He calls out, but there’s no response. He checks the living room, the home office, the guest bedroom. He finally finds you in his bedroom.

You’re curled into a little ball with his bedding twisting around your limbs. Your breaths are small and even, and you look so serene it makes his chest hurt. You look perfect here in his space. It could be your space, too. Maybe. One day. He doesn’t bother analyzing and correcting the clamorous, insistent draw to keep you closer to him and more often. He wonders if you’d ever move in with him. It’s all tricky, of course, because of the age difference and because of the work relationship and for a million other reasons that are never enough to make him slow down. It’s too much too fast, but he can’t find it in himself to care.

He wants you close. He wants to take care of you and keep you safe and make you feel happy and loved. He wants to cook for you and spend lazy afternoons together watching movies. He wants you to pick a paint color for the downstairs bathroom. He wants you to choose decor items to put all around the house so you mark your claim here. He wants your clothes sitting in the washer so he has to move them over to the dryer before he can start a load of his own. He wants to pull down two coffee cups every morning instead of one. Hell, he’d even shop around for that nasty caramel flavor syrup you love so much that it makes him gag from the sweetness. He’d learn just how you like your caramel coffee and make it for you every morning.

He wants your shoes to pile up by the front door because you kick them off the second you get home. He wants to argue with you over what to set the thermostat at, only to give in to whatever you want it to be. He wants to have a Saturday morning routine where he teaches you to drive until you feel confident enough to take the test. He wants you to bug him about landscape ideas you have for the backyard. Bug him to the point that he’ll spend hours breaking his back over, all to find it was worth it in the end when you’re sat together on the deck out back on warm summer nights as you watch fireflies. 

He wants to take you to a botanical garden so he can learn your favorite flowers and get you bouquets of them frequently. He bets you’d be so good at the corn mazes they set up during the fall festivals around town, and you could ride the ferris wheel afterward. He wants you to rope him into some random community center adult class about pottery or watercolor and tell him what a nice job he’s done even though yours will look way better. He wants to make a fuss about getting a real tree for Christmas because you like the smell. You probably won’t remember to water it, but he’ll remember to water it. Because you want it and because you like it, so he’ll remember. Because he’d do anything to make you happy and to make you his.

You stir at the recognition of someone else being in the room. He snuggles into the bed beside you immediately and warms at how even through a sleep drenched brain you place who he is. You sling two sluggish arms around him to draw him snug against you. You say his name in a little surprised, breathy whine that makes him chuckle and grin.

“Hi, sweet girl,” he murmurs quietly into your ear. “You takin’ a little nap?”

“Got my period and got super tired,” you mumble back. “Aw, Pluck,” he coos. He turns you to your side and presses a warm palm against your lower abdomen, working it in gentle, firm circles. You sigh at the welcomed ease to your achy middle. He would never wish for you to feel unwell, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to being able to take care of you the rest of the night. The best part of it was that you were finally letting him take care of you. Trusting him with it. And he’ll be damned if he wasn’t going to rise to the occasion.

“I think Rachel is working today. She usually works Fridays,” Kenzie explains as she holds the door to the Electric Pony Sex and Erotica Shoppe. 

“You seem pretty well acquainted,” you snort.

“Ugh, this place saved my life,” she declares with such sincerity you know she really believes it. “Dry spell for months. Would’ve gone insane - like, clinically - without their help and recs.”

“Fair enough,” you concede. 

The dull pink neon glow gives the blacked out entrance lobby a friendlier feel. There’s a perky looking woman with a sparkly nose ring flicking through a Muscle Bear Monthly magazine at a plastic window that reminds you of a bank teller.  Her eyes lift to you and Kenzie before lighting up in recognition.

“Kenz! Hey, girly pops!” She motions you both over and waves off Kenzie’s ID. “You’re fine. Need to see your friend’s, though.”

You dig your state ID card out of your backpack and slide it under the opening toward her. She scoots it back to you and buzzes you into the main area. Your eyes dart every which way as you take in a whole slew of products. You weren’t a prude by any means, but being surrounded by so many toys and accessories and outfits and performance enhancers felt a little bit intimidating. It was a lot different than looking at a few things online and inevitably closing out of tabs when you were reminded of the fact that you had little to no privacy in your own home and therefore could never justify getting anything for yourself.

“So, what’re you lookin’ for? Anything in particular or just browsing?” Rachel asks, mostly to Kenzie.

“I’m actually still good from my last haul, but my friend needs a few things.”

You jump in before she can blow your spot up completely about why you’d made this trip. “Yeah, I just, um, sort of wanted to step my game up a little, I think.”

“Oh, perfect. We get that a lot, so we can definit–”

Kenzie cuts Rachel short and adds, “Her boyfriend is older and more experienced and has a nice dick, so she wants to match his energy a little bit. Right now she basically just needs help with riding dick and giving blowjobs.”

“Kenzie!” you hiss.

“What?! You do! You said you still can’t really fit him that far into your mouth!”

“Okay, I think we can figure something out,” Rachel laughs in an easy sort of way that makes you feel a touch less embarrassed after Kenzie’s disclosure.

You grumble under your breath and follow Rachel’s lead to a large wall of toys. Kenzie has the sense to look a little chastised and trails behind. You’re staring down row after row of dildos and plugs, and you try to ignore your nerves and remind yourself of why you came here. You’d only just begun your physical relationship with Joel, but this being your first of that kind with a male partner had you noticeably lacking apprise of anything beyond basic technique. Neither of you were dissatisfied with anything, but you couldn’t shake the blow to your self-confidence that came with having such a competent partner.

“So, let’s just start with the basics, okay?” Rachel begins. “Have y’all been together for a while or is this something newer?”

“Newer. Like, brand new, sort of. In a lot of ways.”

“Okay, that’s fine. Just asking to see if this is a learning a new partner situation or trying out new stuff to spice things up type situation,” she explains. “Okay, so. Kenz mentioned some oral stuff and positioning techniques. Is that where you’re looking to get into or were you thinking a different direction?”

“Um, no. I guess… Yeah, just…” you stumble.

“Listen, we’re super chill here and just wanna make sure everybody leaves and has a good time when they get back home, okay? So no pressure and definitely don’t feel embarrassed.”

You weren’t sure how to explain that you weren’t really embarrassed, per se. You’d just never had this sort of chatty girlfriends dynamic where you talk about your sex life and your love life and all the nitty gritty in between. You’d always been the listener, and now being the talker was different.

“No, I’m good. I just, you know, I’m new with guys for a partner. So it’s just kind of, like, I’m figuring it out as I go along, and I’m not always sure what to even ask,” you admit.

“Well, luckily for you, guys for the most part are pretty simple in my experience,” she says encouragingly with an amused grin. “The main thing is just being into it, you know? Whatever it is that you’re doing, if you seem like you’re having a good time and he’s turning you on and ‘ooohhh oh my god’ you love his cock and all that, nine times out of ten they’ll be happy.”

“Well I’m definitely into it, so that’s not a problem. Like, very into it. He’s, um, he’s really good in bed.”

“You said he’s older and probably got more experience, right?”

“Yeah, definitely. He’s not complaining or anything. I just– this is just me wanting to…”

“Show him you’ve got a top tier pussy that he’ll want to lock down?” she offers.

“Yeah, something like that,” you exhale in a laugh.

“Okay, got it. I think first thing is we gotta see what we’re working with. Certain things just don’t work as well with, like, if a dick has a strong curve to it or if it’s on the bigger side. So take a look at the wall over here and try to find something similar to his size and shape.”

Kenzie instantly perks up at this and is practically glued to your side as you peruse the offerings. After a few minutes you find one that is pretty close to Joel except for slightly more of a curve. Kenzie’s mouth is theatrically agape as you pull it off the shelf and hand it to Rachel, who raises her eyebrows and purses her lips.

“Well damn. Good for you, honey.”

The following half hour is crammed with more information about how to be on top, what sort of lingerie would be cute but still comfortable, throat training, and everything in between. Like two best friends helping you prep for the biggest exam of your life, Kenzie and Rachel work in tandem to personalize and curate your education.

It was about the point where you were supposed to be mimicking a hip motion while straddled atop Kenzie for practice that you started to feel more overwhelmed than ever. After promising you were going to practice reverse cowgirl on a pillow in the mirror, they let you take a break from the symposium. 

“Okay, so the outfit pieces and throat training sequence kit bring you to…” Rachel trails off as she punches a few keys on the register. “$212.53.”

You choke back the panic of spending money on yourself and pull out some bills from your secret stash. It would be worth it in the end. You knew that. At a price like that, it had to be, right? With your new collection of things you’d have to figure out where to hide, you and Kenzie bid Rachel an excited goodbye and head out.

Joel was most definitely trying to get you to tell him where you went shopping and what you bought. His fabricated reason for closing up an hour early so he could “check something at his house before dropping you off” didn’t make any sense. He was clearly chomping at the bit for you to tell him. It’s like he somehow knew the contents within were for him. Never one to indulge – especially on yourself – your purchase had him hovering around like a moth to a flame trying to catch a glimpse.  

“You never said where y’all went,” he mentions casually as he pointlessly arranges and rearranges the dishes in his kitchen cupboard.

“Oh, nowhere, really. Just a few places Kenzie wanted to browse,” you supply with feigned disinterest that Joel doesn’t buy for a second.

“Mhhmm. Awfully bright pink bag with a flirty lookin’ pony on it. Can’t imagine what sorta store that was,” he hums with a little amused grin. “Find anything for yourself?”

“A few things, maybe,” you admit with a coy smile.

“And am I ever gonna get to see those few things?”

“Maybe if you’re really, really nice,” you tease.

“Right,” he snorts. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

You giggle and aimlessly flip pieces of mail on the counter. “So, um, speaking of Kenzie, I never got to thank you for helping me with that. Giving me advice and the push I needed to meet up with her so we could try to work things out.”

“No big deal. Just wanna help you.” He shrugs it off, but you sense there’s more he wants to say. Suddenly turning serious again, he says, “I’m here for that kinda stuff, you know? If you need me. ‘Cause I need you to understand that. Whatever you wanna talk about or just have somebody listen to you think out loud. Whatever it is. I’m here for you.”

“I know. I’m not really the best at sharing stuff,” you admit. “It’s just… hard.”

He nods and leaves his pretend task of straightening dishes to settle next to you and circle your hand in his own. “I get that. Sometimes, though, it’s– you gotta– you don’t hafta drown in it, you know? If there’s somebody offerin’ a hand to pull you out….”

You aren’t so sure you’re still talking about sharing milder problems like rocky friendships. You play dumb and keep the conversation away from his unspoken insinuation.

“I know. I just like to try to handle my own problems, you know?” you offer up weakly. “I feel like if you can’t solve your own problems then you’re just putting the strain on everybody around you. And besides, me and Kenzie ended up having a good conversation that day. Neither of us even cried in the middle of the coffee place, so that’s a win,” you chuckle nervously.

“So, I mean– I never really got all the info on that, I don’t think. What was the main issue that was causin’ a problem?”

His gaze is steady. He knows this is the most direct he’s ever been in asking about your private life. He knows whether or not you choose to answer might just determine if your attempts to be more open with him are going to hold up or if you’re going to shrink back into yourself and push him away.

Tell him. 

Tell him tell him tell him.

Tell him!

“I.. don’t … I’m worried it might upset you,” you answer truthfully. You knew he’d be unsettled by Logan’s inappropriate advances at that New Year’s Eve event. Joel looks surprised at the disclosure, like he hadn’t ever considered it would be something that would involve him somehow.

“I’m not gonna be upset with you,” he assures you.

If only you could explain that’s only the half of it. Even him just being “upset at the situation” would probably be enough to spark all your nerves alight and reduce you to a neurotic, frazzled mess. But he was always so calm and collected. He never seemed ruffled no matter what you threw at him. Maybe you could tell him what really happened. Maybe this could be the soft launch into finally revealing the truth about your dad.

So, you give him a rough setup about Kenzie’s college degree almost being completed, how she landed this internship that could mean really great things once she graduates, and how New Year’s Eve was supposed to be her big foray into taking on a client on her own with the company. You don’t sugarcoat the first impressions of Logan and Charlie, and a knowing look catches in his eye. He understands where this story is headed.

Your heart hammers as you recall the unreciprocated flirtation on the dancefloor that was followed by Logan stalking you to the bathroom and putting his hands on you. Joel’s jaw muscles flicker as his indignation builds, and you have to remind yourself repeatedly that reaction is not directed towards nor intended for you.

You finally manage to finish recounting the terrible night, but you don’t feel any weight lifted now that the truth is out there. Joel looks confused and angered. You thought he might’ve felt happy to know the truth finally. If anything, he seems more agitated than ever.

“Have you seen him since? Does she still talk to them? Work with them?”

“No, she dropped the account. She doesn’t see them, and I haven’t seen either of them since.”

He sits in silence for a moment, turning over all the new information in his mind and reframing his past knowledge. Then–

“So.. when you… that night when we.. was that just….”

“No, no,” you object. “It wasn’t just some reaction to all that. I-I really had feelings for you already. You really made me feel… you made me feel better. Safer. I felt safe with you.”

“Not safe enough to tell me what had happened,” he points out a bit glumly.

“Joel, don’t be like that,” you beg.

“No, I just wish I’d been more– I dunno, I wish you could’ve seen me as somebody to trust with that. I wish I’d been that for you when you needed it, and I wasn’t. I let you down.”

“It was just a lot that happened really fast, Joel. I hadn’t even– I’d barely had time to process any of it. It wasn’t because you aren’t trustworthy. I’m telling you now, right?”

“Yeah, you’re tellin’ me about this…..” He trails off and shakes his head before leveling you with a hard stare. “But all it makes me think is what else you’ve got under wraps because I haven’t done enough to make you feel like you can trust me.”

The hairs on your neck feel prickly at the sudden change in tone. He’s dancing right on the edge of what you’d been avoiding the most the entire time you’ve known him. Your mouth opens and closes a few times without result other than your tongue feeling like sandpaper.

“Like how come you can’t tell me why you really went to the office on Christmas Day,” he says flatly.

You swallow hard and shake your head, your chest heating to a million degrees.

“Or why your dad is so weird with all these rules and say so over your bank account.”

“He’s always been like that,” you argue. It’s not lost on Joel that you didn’t actually address anything with that statement.

“Yeah? He always been gettin’ into fistfights with Calum, too? That just how he’s always been?” he levels at you.

Your spine draws up and straightens your entire body at the unambiguous remark. “I’m not getting into all this right now, Joel.”

He huffs an unamused laugh and pushes himself from the counter, hands on hips as his head drops and shakes side to side in disbelief. He looks back at you with a look you’ve never seen from him before: disappointment. “You can’t even tell me what Calum’s deal is?” he lobs. “Just fuckin’ shows up and goes through your stuff without you knowin’, and next thing I know you’re loaded up in the car with him? Just off to god knows where? And I’m not allowed to ask or anything. I gotta just act like that’s normal and I’m fine with it.”

All nerves siphon directly into prickly anger at the mention of your brother’s role in all this. “That’s none of your fucking business,” you snip.

“Yeah? And what if I wanted it to be my business, huh? What then?”

“Then I’d say you needed to take a step back and get a grip.”

“Unbelievable,” he grumbles. He paces the floor a few times before approaching you again. “So, is that what our relationship is gonna be like? You just get to hide stuff from me and leave me worried about you? And I don’t get to ask any questions or have any say in it?”

“I’m not some fuckin’ project for you to work on and fix, Joel,” you snap. “And what you feel about the boundaries I have aren’t any of my business at the end of the day.”

“So that’s it? You just get to have all these rules and all these walls up, and I just gotta take it or leave it? Pick up the pieces only when you let me and not when you need me?”

“Need you? What exactly is it about me that makes you think I need saving so bad, Joel? Huh? What, because I’ve got a–a more difficult home life or whatever? A bad family dynamic? A mom that didn’t give two shits about us and walked right out without a second glance back?” you fume. “In case you weren’t aware, I’ve been handling whatever comes my way my entire life just fine. I don’t need you and your weird fucking savior complex making things into something they’re not.”

“Wow,” he scoffs. “Savior complex? S’that what you call bein’ worried sick over somebody you care about and wanting to help them? You ever think about that? That maybe people are just tryna be helpful?”

“Who says I need help? Who says I need anything or anybody? Who says I need you?” You regret it the moment you say it as you watch Joel’s face crumple for a split second before he straightens it out again.

“Yeah, you don’t need me or anybody else, huh? You just got it all figured out.”

The air is heavy as you draw in tighter breaths. Joel stomps out of the room before circling back into the kitchen with glossy eyes.

“Dammit, why do you gotta do this shit?” he huffs. “Why can’t you just let me be there for you? I want to. I want to be there for you.”

“I don’t need your or anyone else’s help, alright? I’ve done fine on my own my entire life, and I’m not interested in feeding men’s egos anymore.”

His lips purse tight like they’re catching words between his teeth before they can become cutting projectile that would only make this conversation more hurtful than it has already devolved to. A muscle near his earlobe twitches, and then his face smooths out like a long wave washing along the shore, smoothing out the gritted sand to a flattened pane once more.

“If that’s how you feel, I know better than trying to change your mind,” he rebuts calmly and coolly. 

Despite the neutral mask he wears, the halo of a wounded heart wraps around every syllable, and your heart plummets. You did that. You made him sound that way. You made him feel that way. It’s all happened so fast that you can’t quite figure out how to undo it, how to go back those few precious seconds and stop yourself from lashing out. 

“I’m going home,” you whisper.

You snatch up your things and hurry out the door, ignoring the call of Joel’s voice begging you to let him drive you so you get there safely. That insidious voice inside your head bitterly reminds you there's no point in getting home safely when your home isn’t safe.

tagging

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@ellenmunn @confusedpuffin @lavema @zooty-and-fruity @reneerocks3617

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@indiegirlunited @lyuir @gay4magnetobutfanfiction @ficrecreblo @gossipgirl-03

[biancasreign]

CATCHING FEELS | JEY USO

Part 2 | Part 3

warnings: smut & heartbreak

summary: it was all good until Kaliyah started catching feelings…

“Ahh, fuck!” Kaliyah moaned as Jey pounded in and out of her from the back.

“Damn Kay, you feel so good around my dick. You got that good pussy for real.” He groaned as he gripped her waist and went deeper.

All she could do was moan as he pushed her head into the mattress and continued to drill into her. The two of the had been going at it for a minute and Kaliyah could feel her fourth orgasium building up in her stomach.

“Oh my god, right there baby!” She moaned

“Where? Right here? I’m hitting yo’ spot ?” He leaned down to whisper in here ear as he gripped her bun, using it as leverage to angle her body just the way he wanted it.

“Mmh, right there baby.” She nodded her head slowly as drool rolled down her face. He was hitting all the right spots and her body felt like she was on a cloud as he did so.

“So fucking pretty just taking all this dick. I should nut all up in your pretty pussy.” He rasped as she threw her ass back on him.

Running his hand over his face he braced himself and tried to keep it together. This girl was driving him crazy and he didn’t know why. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

“Look at how you take it. I love that shit.” He continued talking her through it as he slightly lifted her head so she could see herself in her vanity mirror. Her face was now bright red as tears of pleasure streamed down her face.

“I’m cumming.” She shut her eyes as the pressure built up in her stomach and cum dripped down her legs.

“Damn shorty.” He let out as he released every drop of his cum into her without thinking twice. It felt too good to pull out and he wasn’t going to.

“Fuck” he breathe out as he pulled out of her. Her soft moans filled his ear before he stood up and walked to the bathroom.

Kaliyah laid against the bed trying to catch her breath and ignore the throbbing between her legs. Just like every other time they had sex she felt herself dozing off until he came out the bathroom with his sweatpants on.

“You’re leaving?” She asked softly as she pulled herself up against the headboard.

“Yeah Kay.” He avoided looking at her as he collected his stuff from around the room.

“But why? You don’t want to stay?” She asked him as sat on the bed confused as to what he was doing.

“Kay, you already know what it is.” He mumbled as he searched for his phone.

“No I don’t.”

“Kaliyah why you being difficult? Every time I give you some dick you start with this nagging shit when you know what it is.”

“I thought you wanted more than this. More than what we have right now.”

“I never said that Kaliyah. I told exactly what it was from the beginning.”

“That’s bullshit! So taking me on dates, fucking me, and talking on the phone all fucking day was just because you wanted to fuck?”

“Aye, don’t say it like that because I let you know from the beginning what it was. You started catching feelings and that’s why I have to leave you alone.”

“Leave me alone? Is there someone else? I’m not understanding. I thought we were fine the whole time.” Kaliyah sat in the bed with tears streaming down her face.

“There’s nobody else. I told you I don’t want to be in a relationship. Your vibe is cool and everything but that’s not what I want right now. It’s really not.”

“So what? You’re going to find someone else to fuck? Someone who won’t catch feelings for you?” She yelled at him.

“Lower your voice talking to me. What I decide to do doesn’t have nothing to do with you.” He told her.

“Wow, that’s so fucked up. That you would do that to me. I’m glad you were able to get your last fuck before you broke my heart.” She sniffled before making her way into the bathroom and slamming the door.

[hazbinwhoree]

Hey! I love your writing and I was gonna ask about a request? If you're up to it, could you do an Adam x f!reader where reader sings in a band, and Adam goes to one of her shows? You can do whatever you want with the story (maybe even a little smutty if you want...😏😏) ty!!💗💗💗

I Was In A Band

A/N: Requests are reopened!

Despite how many of Adam’s shows (Name) had been to, he’d never been to one of hers before. (Name) was both excited and nervous. There was a reason she never invited him. But when she and her band took the stage, and Adam stared up at her from the front of the crowd in complete admiration, (Name) was fully excited.

They began their set, and Adam’s first thought was that their bands’ music was very different from each other. Immediately, the angsty tone had him knowing this was going to be very different from his metal shows.

The lyrics were much deeper than any he’d ever sung. They were beautifully written though. And (Name) sang them so beautifully.

He was pretty sure he fell in love with her even more than he already was.

When the show was over, they immediately sought one another out, but (Name) was stopped by a swarm of fans. As Adam watched the amount of young men who approached her, he realized how she must feel about his groupies. He didn’t like it at all.

He identified the feeling as jealousy as he watched man after man throw themselves at (Name). But his jealousy was soothed when her eyes found his and she brushed everyone else aside to come to him. She placed her hands on his chest and beamed up at him. “What did you think?”

Adam thought she was amazing, but his first thought was showing her groupies that she was spoken for. So he picked her up and did just that, crushing his lips against hers.

(Name) was surprised but certainly not complaining, winding her arms around Adam’s neck and kissing him back. When Adam pulled back and put her down, he revelled in the jealous looks men and women alike were shooting him.

“You were incredible,” he told her. “My girl is so talented.”

(Name) blushed.

“Can we get out of here?” Adam asked as more fans tried to approach them. “Of course.”

Adam was unusually quiet on the way home. When they got there, (Name) questioned him about it. “Is something wrong? Did you not enjoy the show?”

Adam pinned her up against the wall abruptly. “The show was amazing. I just didn’t like to see all those angels who wanted to get in your pants.” (Name) opened her mouth to argue but Adam cut her off, pressing his lips against hers.

“Shush,” he said when he pulled back. “I’m not accusing you of anything and I know it’s hypocritical considering my own groupies. It just made me want to remind you who you belong to.” His voice was low and husky.

(Name) grinned. “Yeah?”

Adam groped her chest. “Yeah. You should suck my dick and make me feel better.”

“Wow, make me do the work after my own show,” (Name) tsked. “I’m sure any of my groupies would have jumped at the chance to give me head.”

Adam growled. “No one eats pussy like me.”

“Prove it.”

Adam threw (Name) over his shoulder in a blink, rushing up to their bedroom. He tossed (Name) on the bed, grabbing her legs and dragging her down until her ass was on the edge. He pulled her pants down and off, kneeling between her thighs after discarding the clothing on the floor.

He pressed a kiss to her clothed core, tongue poking at the wet patch that had already formed on her panties. Then he hooked his thumbs under the waistband and tugged them down, discarding them like her pants.

Once her bottom half was bare, Adam didn’t give her a single minute to prepare, burying his head between her thighs and beginning to eat her out.

(Name) cried out as he licked up and down between her folds before beginning to fuck her with his tongue. He may be cocky, but he wasn’t lying when he said no one ate pussy like he did. He always gave the best head of (Name)’s life.

He gripped her thighs, holding her legs apart while he ate her out like his last meal, saliva running down his chin. His tongue was long and (Name) moaned and squirmed while he fucked her with it.

“Adam!” (Name) cried. Adam pulled back for just a moment to speak. “Yeah, that feel good, bitch? Remember, no one else can make you feel this good.” (Name) whined and Adam dove back in, sucking on her clit. Her hips bucked.

It didn’t take very long for her to get close, thighs trembling. Adam continued a steady pace of licking up and down, sucking on her clit, and fucking her with his tongue. His hands reached up to play with her tits.

“Fuck, Adam,” (Name) panted. Adam grinned, face wet with her juices and his own spit. “Cum for me,” he demanded, before thrusting his tongue into her again. (Name) cried out, cumming on command. Adam fucked her through it with his tongue.

When (Name)’s body finally relaxed, Adam pulled back, rising to his feet. He wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve. “How was that for head?”

(Name) giggled, fucked out. She made a grabby motion and Adam leaned over her, pressing his lips to hers. She could taste herself on him.

“Better than any groupie could have possibly given.”

[ellethespaceunicorn]

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest, Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: Marked By The Wolf

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors – DNI

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Reader

Word Count: ~4.8K (ya waited extra-long; ya get an extra-long chapter)

Series Summary: You live in a small town called Claw Creek, surrounded by a deep, dark forest. Since you were a kid, an urban legend of the creature in the woods has been told. If the distant howls at night and mutilated livestock are anything to go by, you fear the stories to be true.

Chapter Summary: It’s the night of the full moon. The plan? Invite Sy over to the cabin to keep an eye on him in case he shifts. WCGW? 

Warnings: verbal fight, angst

A/N: Thank you for being patient with me, guys! And I see y’all reblogging the masterlist for the series. And I thank you so much for keeping this story alive! A special thank you to @peyton-warren for being my lovely beta and soundboard for this. Cuz ya girl was struggling with this chapter for many moons.

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Over the next day or so, you get to know Jace. You’d learned his full first name, but “only ko’u makuahine calls me Jason”. Growing up in Hawaii shaped the man he is today, and he misses home a lot. But with Walter in his pack, and being Faye’s godfather, he’s made his own little family.

For a while, it seems like he may be flirting with you. But that quickly fades into something else. You’re only mildly upset when he refers to you as kaikuahine. Firstly, because you had no idea what it meant. Secondly, because when you found out it meant ‘sister’, you had to remind yourself that you have a perfectly great werewolf boyfriend of your own already.

‘Calm down, girl,’ you thought, thinking of your eager beaver.

Walter notices the way your demeanor changes and takes your hand, leading you upstairs. Your confusion only amuses Jace, who seems to know something you don’t. Once you make it into Walter’s bedroom, you are spun against the door. He attacks your neck, licking and nipping at the sensitive flesh until you tangle your fingers in his chestnut curls. Your mind reels, wondering what’s gotten into him.

And then it hits you.

He’s…jealous!

Oh, this is too good. That’s twice tonight that he’s been struck with jealousy. Earlier with Sy’s thirst trap and now with your flirtatious nature. You are beyond flattered, but you refuse to let this man get too far gone. With your hand in his hair, you tighten your fingers and pry him from your neck.

Once his face is in front of yours, you notice his wild eyes where black replaces blue. He looks ready to eat you, and as much as you would like that, you decide to try and calm the beast within.

“Walter, baby? I need you to calm down for a sec,” you beg, both hands tangling in his hair to soothe his soul, “Come on back to me, baby.”

Blinking once, then twice, his eyes finally focus on you, and the trance is gone. His giant paws rush to your face and then to the tender skin of your neck where his teeth were grazing. He winces when you grimace at the feel of his thumb on your sore flesh.

“Pup, I am so sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I was−”

“Jealous?” you supply, already knowing what this was.

“I can’t help it. I haven’t felt this way in a long time. It’s jealousy, sure. But it feels deeper than that. I felt the need to mark you as mine. You’re sort of a natural flirt, you know that?” he probes, a soft smile on his face.

“Well, I mean, I can see that. I guess I’ve never really thought about it. No one has ever brought it up,” you explain, looking back on all the times that men thought you were flirting with them but were just being nice. 

“Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to make sure that Jace knew you were taken. He has an effect on women,” he expresses, “But it seems he only sees you as a sister, so I don’t have to worry about you two riding off into the sunset, now do I?” 

“Wow, that was kinda bitchy. But also, incredibly hot that you thought I could be influenced by another big pretty werewolf,” you tease, leaning up on your tippy toes to place a kiss on the end of his nose before pushing back from the door so you could open it and leave.

“You think he’s pretty?” Walter shouts after you.

You laugh, swiftly jogging down the stairs to find an equally amused Jace sitting on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table, perfectly at home.

Trying to keep yourself from feeling embarrassed, you plop down next to him on the couch. While you are snuggling into his side, he chuckles and jokes that you should watch out for “the big, bad wolf”. Just as the words leave his mouth, Walter appears on the other side of you, having leapt over the couch. You’re officially squeezed in between the two large wolves, and you suddenly feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Between the warmth radiating from both men, the way they commented on the Forged in Fire episode playing in the background, and the long day finally catching up with you, you had no choice but to fall asleep. You remember leaning your head against Jace’s beefy shoulder after he splayed both arms along the back of the couch. At some point during the night, you awake to find yourself sprawled across both of their laps. Your head is in Walter’s lap and your blanket-covered feet are shoved under Jace’s thigh.

The television screen asking if you’re still watching illuminates the faces of the snoring wolves at either side of you. Walter’s hand on your shoulder twitches as he feels you shifting. Shuffling your ankles, Jace sleepily readjusts to give you room before lowering his thigh back over your feet. All of this was done while they were asleep as if it was second nature to want to keep you safe and warm.

And you weren’t going to complain about being in a literal wolf pile. Instead, you snuggle into your blanket and let yourself drift off again.

When you awaken, the mid-morning sun is flooding through the windows. You’re still on the couch, but no longer surrounded by your wolf-shaped furnaces. Getting up from the couch, you wrap the blanket around your shoulders and go in search of coffee. 

Shuffling into the kitchen, you brush past where Walter is plating some waffles. You make it to the coffee machine and pour yourself a cup, adding in your sugar and cream and stirring it until it hits that perfect shade. Taking that first sip is nirvana. As the temperature of the hot beverage slides down your throat, you are warmed from the inside out. Now, you can officially say you have woken up.

You turn around to lean against the counter and are surprised to see both wolves looking at you and smiling. “What?”

“Oh, nothing. Just we were trying to get your attention, but I see Walter was right about you loving java. You have your priorities straight, is all,” Jace winks at you before sipping his coffee.

Walter chuckles and shoves a plateful of waffles, bacon, and eggs to one of the empty seats and nods for you to eat. “Don’t worry, Pup. I think it’s cute that you need your morning fuel before intelligent social interaction.”

“Thanks, Wolfie,” you hum, leaning in to peck him on the cheek before sitting down to tuck into your plate.

“And the nicknames are elevating my sugar levels as we speak,” Jace teases, expertly catching the waffle that Walter throws his way.

“Look, Jace and I have an idea. We just need you to put the pieces in motion,” Walter begins, explaining the plan to you while you eat. You stayed mostly silent, letting him lay everything out.

Jace pops in here and there with a few tweaks when he sees you start to feel a bit overwhelmed, “If at any time you feel uncomfortable, don’t hesitate. We’re there in case anything happens.”

“I guess I have a call to make. Oh, and do you fellas think you can go grocery shopping? I need a few things if I wanna make sure I have enough to feed all of you,” you lament, factoring in that Sy used to eat you out of house and home on multiple occasions. Might as well have too much than too little. You give Wolfie and Jace your shopping list and head upstairs to shower and make a very important phone call.

Early evening rolls in and you are relishing the smell of your pot roast with vegetables simmering as it permeates the first floor of the house. Wolfie has been at your side for most of the afternoon and even now because you’ve been like a chicken with your head cut off, anxious nerves making you fuss over every little thing. 

And he couldn’t blame you for being on high alert. He did ask you to invite over your ex-fiancé during a full moon, under the guise of getting together for a football game, so that he and Jace could find out if Sy is a werewolf. ‘A simple plan,’ said no one in this situation.

Olivia was invited over to help you set up and possibly help you with cooking. But alas, fair Olivia has found her Prince Charming in Jace. And just as Walter said, he does have an effect on women. You have to stop and giggle to yourself as she throws her head back in laughter and touches his arm, her signature move. Great, those two can swoon each other all night while you try and keep the peace between a wolf and a hard place.

The roast was not going to cook any faster with you standing over the crock pot, so you step away from the kitchen and join the others as they sit in the living room. Jace and Liv sit on the couch as Walter sits in one of the loungers. Just as you sit down to rest your bones in the other chair, you notice the guys exchanging a look. 

You hear the rumble of Sy’s old pickup and your heart drops into your stomach. You shoot up from your seat and adjust your turtleneck dress that hugs your body like a glove before walking to the front door. You step outside as Sy is pulling into the driveway. Swallowing your apprehension, you walk across the lawn to meet him. 

Smiling as he exits his truck, Sy wraps you up in a bear hug. When he lifts you off the ground, you squeak, and he just laughs before putting you back down. You get a whiff of him, and you feel an instant urge to bury your nose in his neck, or his perfectly trimmed beard. Fighting that urge, you playfully swat at Sy’s meaty, flannel-clad bicep and try not to stare at his veiny forearms. 

The man always had great arms; you would have complimented him on them once upon a time. But that was a long time ago, and even though you wanted to devour him where he stood, you weren’t about to let him know that. His head was big enough without you adding your horniness to it.

He steps to the truck bed and reaches a hand in to pick up a case of your favorite beer. He seems pretty pleased with himself and not at all nervous about meeting your new boyfriend. You should’ve known better than to think he would miss the opportunity to annoy your current beau.

You lead him inside where he immediately sniffs the air and exclaims, “Oh, my God! Please tell me that is your pot roast.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks and nervously reply, “Um, yeah. It’s probably just about done if you want some.”

“If I want some? Of course, it’s my favorite meal,” Sy earnestly comments, and you can’t help but bashfully thank him.

A throat is cleared, and Walter appears at your side, planting a nuzzling kiss on your neck as he snakes an arm around you, making you giggle. 

“Walter, this is Sy. Sy, this is Walter, my boyfriend,” you introduce them, smiling to yourself as they offer a hand for a handshake and exchange pleasantries.

“Pleasure ta meetcha, Walter.” “Likewise, Sy.” 

They were still shaking each other’s hands until you realized they were having a staring contest. 

“Seriously?!” you gripe, equally mad at both of them, “You’re both grown men, right?” You push through their still-joined hands and go into the kitchen.

Olivia rises from the couch and admonishes them as well, “Good going, guys,” as she follows you into the kitchen.

“What?” they say in unison, looking at the only other man in the room. Jace shakes his head, looking between the two of them and taking a pull off his beer.

Walter walks into the kitchen, already apologizing as he approaches where you are sitting at the table. He takes your hand in his and holds it against his chest. It’s less what he says, and more of how he says it. He sounds genuine and he means every word. You peck him on the cheek, forgiving him. Olivia makes sure to tease you about how cute you two are.

Sy saunters in once Walter exits, placing the case of beer on the kitchen counter before opening it, removing two bottles, and handing one to you. Clinking the neck of his bottle against yours, he uncaps his and takes and takes a long pull. Taking a long look at you, he leans back and surveys your level of anger, trying to assess exactly how mad you are.

“Walter seems nice,” he starts in that fatherly tone that always gets a smile out of you. 

You shake your head and laugh despite yourself wanting to be mad at him. “You know, he actually is very nice. Just give him a chance to surprise you before you hate his guts, ok? That’s all I ask.”

“Oh, is that all? Easy peasy lemon squeezy,” he grumbles, pouting for a second. “Look, I’ll be on my best behavior like Church on Sunday if I can get some of that pot roast.” He turns those blue topaz eyes on you, and you’re putty in his hands, suddenly wishing Liv wasn’t in the room to watch that little moment. 

You rise from your seat, dishing out some of the roast and potatoes and carrots onto a plate for Sy, and place it in front of him. You light up when he closes his eyes at the first bite. His groan of satisfaction is more than enough to signal that you did a great job. But the pat he gives your knee is so warm and so intimate that your muscles instantly react to his touch, wishing it lingered for a second more.

“Liv, can Sy and I have a second to talk?” you plead, hoping that she would give you some space.

“Sure. I’ll just go back to fawning over Jace. He’s so pretty I wanna cry,” she professes, patting your shoulder as she exits the kitchen.

Your eyes follow Olivia as she leaves, and then they snap back to where Sy is sitting smiling at you. And you know this particular smile well. 

“Sy, why are you smiling at me like that? You said you would be on your best behavior and that smile is not your best behavior,” you sigh, rolling your eyes, “I know that smile got me to do a lot of things back in the day.”

“A lot of fun things come to mind,” he murmurs, bringing his beer up to his lips to drain before rising to get another and lean on the counter, “But that is not why I’m here tonight. Don’t worry, I’m only here to make sure my favorite girl’s being taken care of. I will be a perfect gentleman, even to yer old man.”

Rising from your seat, you finally open your beer and stand next to him. Taking a sip, you bump his shoulder with yours. “One question I have for you. Why did you agree to come over? I mean, you could have hung up the phone or cursed me out when I asked you over to spend time with me. At my boyfriend’s cabin. In the woods. Just saying that now makes me wonder what was going through your head.”

“Not gonna lie, I loved seeing you the other day. Even though you weren’t exactly pleased to see me, you still told me to be careful out there in the woods. Look, I like having you in my life. If that means I have you as a friend, it’s much better than not having you at all,” he confesses, and your world shatters around you when you look up into his eyes and see his sincerity.

You open your mouth to speak but the words won’t take shape and you’re left looking for the answer in his face. The eyes you got lost in a million times before. The lips you kissed every chance you got. Standing this close, you can breathe each other’s breath. If you only stood on your tippy-toes and leaned in, you’d be right−

“Am I interrupting something?” Olivia’s voice snaps you back to reality and you put some space between you and Sy. She walks in between you two to grab another beer. She gives Sy a look before turning her attention to you, “Your boyfriend’s wondering where you are, bee-tee-dubs.” She throws out her arm, gesturing for you to lead the way back to the living room instead of finishing your conversation. You miss her giving Sy another pointed stare before following you out.

The night goes on as planned, at first. You all watch a college football game, Walter’s alma mater vs their rivals, who just happen to be Sy’s alma mater. You and Sy met after college, and he mentioned having played lacrosse, but he’s never shown interest in football. Until tonight, of course.

It’s been a long time since you and Sy spent time together, but you know his temperament. And he’s off. He doesn’t look like himself either, as if he’s covering up something. With the way that Walter and Jace keep sharing looks, you see he is on their radar as well.

Olivia and Jace occupy the two loungers, so you are sitting in between Walter and Sy on the couch. How lucky! You’re in the perfect spot to listen to Sy rooting loudly for his team and making snide comments all because he doesn’t wanna sit next to you and your new boyfriend. 

Walter, on the other hand, is quiet for the most part but trembling with anger. He’s letting Sy get to him, and you can’t stand it anymore. You’re suddenly jealous of Olivia who fell asleep halfway into the game.

You unwrap yourself from around Walter and turn to Sy. “Kitchen. Now.”

He doesn’t answer and mutely follows you, taken aback when you turn on him once you’re both in the kitchen.

“What the hell are you doing? You are being such an ass. I’m trying to hold out an olive branch, but you are not meeting me in the middle, Sy,” you snap, feeling like you could spit fire.

“And why did you even invite me? To parade your new man all over me? I thought maybe we could try and be friends, but now I see all you wanna do is remind me that I wasn’t good enough for you,” Sy erupts, his voice booming and full of rage. 

“That’s not fair,” you gasp.

“All’s fair in love, Bug,” he cautions, sweat starting to drip down his forehead, “Look, I’m gonna go before either of us says something we’ll regret.” He turns and storms out of the kitchen before you can step any closer to him, but you are on his tail when he steps out of the front door.

You reach him, putting your hand on his shoulder as you try to stop him. He turns back to you, his eyes closed in a pained expression. His skin is flushed as he rips open his flannel, making it easier for you to see his Adonis belt just above his jeans. The bite mark is nowhere to be seen, having already healed. When he starts to hyperventilate, you try to soothe him by calling his name. Fast as lightning, Walter appears between you and Sy.

“Sy, you have to try and stay calm. You aren’t making this easy on yourself. Let it happen,” Walter holds his hands out, showing he means no harm as he tries to step closer to Sy. Walter starts to shift after removing his sweater and jeans.

“Back off, man,” Sy warns, feeling like he could explode with the heat beneath his skin.

“You can do this, just open your eyes,” Walter replies, before his mouth becomes a snout and talking is impossible.

But when Sy finally opens his eyes, they start to glow. His neck twists at a freakish angle, the sounds of bones crunching has you terrified. Reddish-brown fur sprouts out of his skin as his hands stretch into clawed paws. His confused screams are horrifying. Jace’s booming voice is talking over his cries, talking him through the transformation. 

Doubling over, Sy grunts in agony as he falls on all fours. Letting out a howl, his jeans fall away as he transforms for the first time. You scream, taking a step back when he sniffs the air and he takes one step toward you. 

Sy paces back and forth in front of Walter, seeming to weigh his options. Walter’s wolf form stands an inch or two taller than Sy as he puts distance between you and the new wolf.

Just as the tension is insurmountable, a throat is cleared, and you all look to see Jace standing in the driveway. Nonchalant, but his eyes keenly take in the scene in front of him as he nods at Walter. Olivia is at Jace’s side, dumbfounded by what she is witnessing. When she notices that rumbling sound coming from Jace is him growling, she throws away fear in place of curiosity.

The two wolves are kicking dust up with their feet, squaring off until Jace steps a bit closer to back up his brother. Sy had a chance of maybe beating Walter. But a new wolf up against two bonded brother wolves? No way in hell. 

You step in between the three of them. Holding out your hands, you plead with them not to fight. Walter’s nose nudges at your legs and he huffs in Sy’s face. Walter shifts back, picking up his jeans to put back on, and crossing his arms across his massive chest.

Walter and Jace move closer to Sy as he snarls at them until he sees you, clinging to Olivia. Tears fall from your eyes and something inside of Sy breaks. Looking to you, he can see the fear on your face and you wonder if that is what causes him to want to shift back into human form. The two brothers talk Sy down, telling him how to return to human form.

Once his bones have settled and the whining howls stop, Sy is in the fetal position on the lawn. Shivering, sweaty, and scared. His clothes are ruined, but you think you remember seeing a blanket in the truck bed earlier. You ask Olivia to get the blanket while you caress Sy’s face. 

Once the blanket is around his middle, you accept help from Walter to lift him up. Sy uses his last ounce of energy to push Walter away. 

Coming back to himself, Sy refocuses his anger on Walter. “This has nothing to do with you. Gonna need you to step aside,” Sy fumes, cranky from the changes he doesn’t understand he’s going through.

“That’s just not gonna happen. Maybe if you weren’t trying to move in on what’s mine, I’d be sorry for what I’ve done,” Walter seethes, “After all, I’m the one that bit you.”

You and Sy are both in a state of shock but for different reasons. Sy just found out werewolves are real, and your boyfriend just referred to you as “what’s his'. 

“You did this to me?” Sy’s rage peaks.

“Hey, hey. Focus on my voice, come back. You don’t wanna do this,” you trail off as Sy calms down. 

His irises are back to their brilliant blue and you can see recognition in them. He looks tired, but he is no worse for wear.

“Can we get outta here? Go someplace we can just…talk?” Sy insists.

You think for a second about how pissed you are at Walter for being extremely callous about turning Sy, not to mention talking about you as if you were a piece of property to be owned. You turn to look back at Walter before answering Sy.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you affirm, putting one of Sy’s arms around your neck to help him walk back to his truck. 

You watch Jace stand in front of Walter to stop him from following after you. “Let her cool off, you did just kinda refer to her as ‘what’s mine’, and generally women don’t like that outside of the bedroom.”

Olivia steps over to Walter, putting a hand on his shoulder, her expression calm and collected. “He won’t hurt her. He cares too much about her to do that.”

You get into the driver’s seat after putting Sy in the passenger side, not allowing him to drive. You caution a glance at Walter, instantly regretting looking at his mournful face. Turning the car on, you back out of the driveway and drive out to Sy’s place. 

As you drive there from muscle memory, you look over at Sy now and then. The streetlights of the town dash across his solemn face and bare chest as he sleeps. You almost don’t want to wake him when you make it to his house, he looks so peaceful and not like his life has been turned upside-down. You wake him with the back of your hand smoothing down his face. He grabs it, lost for a moment before he sees your face and where he is.

You help him get inside and suddenly feel exhausted as well. You loiter in the living room while he grabs a glass of water from the kitchen. You didn’t really plan how you were going to get back to Walter’s cabin tonight. And if you’re honest with yourself, you don’t want to go back tonight.

Sy comes back out, gulping down water from his glass while holding the blanket low around his middle. 

“Is it okay if we wait to talk? I’m tired as hell. I’ll take the couch if that’s alright?” You ask, sitting down on the couch and starting to move the pillows.

“You’re not staying out here. You’re sleeping in the bedroom. I’ll take the couch. I’ll grab you something to sleep in,” he rattles on, moving to the bedroom as you stand from the couch and look at your feet.

Sy comes back out to the living room. He’s barefoot, shirtless, and in a pair of grey sweatpants. He just can’t help himself, you think.

“I left you a shirt and some shorts on the bed. Let me know if you need anything, alright?” he advises, using a hand on the small of your back to guide you to the bedroom.

You laugh when you see Sy left you his Mötley Crüe shirt. While putting on the shirt and the boxers, you look at the bed and you know that you don’t want to sleep alone. You don’t care that this will only further complicate your relationship, but you need to not be alone right now. Your bare feet pad across the wood floor as you go back out to the living room. 

Sy hears you and picks his head up to look at you. “You alright, Bug?”

“I don’t wanna sleep alone. I know that’s probably−”

Sy was already up and ushering you back into the bedroom before you could finish your sentence. You pull back the covers so you both can climb in. You enter first and then he slides under the blanket next to you. He lays on his back, you on your side facing away from him. You wiggle your body backward until you come into contact with his warmth. You reach back for his arm and pull it around you.

“Is this okay?” you hesitate, suddenly afraid that you’re asking too much.

“Yeah. S’ok,” he whispers, his breath fanning across your neck. If he notices the shiver that goes down your spine, you’re grateful that he doesn’t mention it.

“Good night, Sy,” you murmur, yawning at the end of your sentence.

“G’night, Bug,” he breathes.

As you drift off to sleep, you think how different you imagined this day ending. You didn’t expect to be in your ex’s arms tonight instead of Walter’s. But you did expect to be in a werewolf’s embrace. Sy’s breath evens out behind you, the rising and falling of his chest against your back is enough to lull you into a peaceful slumber.

To be continued...

A/N: I would love to know what you think of this chapter!

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[gojosprettyprincess]

Tw Cheating, degradation, daddy kink, reader cheats on geto with gojo. Gojo insults Geto but still thinks he deserves better.

Gojo knew he shouldn't be doing this, it's disrespectful, unacceptable, distasteful. Yet he just can't stop, It's not like it was his fault your cunt was so fucking tight and irresistible, swallowing his cock whole as he plunges it in and out of you in the backseat of his car.

"Bet ya stupid little boyfriend can't fuck you this good baby" he groans as he felt your cunt clenching around his cock tighter due to his sinful words. "What a nasty little whore, clamming around my cock just cause I shit talked your boyfriend?, such a dirty little slut, getting off to another mans cock in your slutty cunt".

"Sugu deserved so much better than a dumb little cheating whore like you" you can't help but whimper at his degrading words, you love your boyfriend geto, he treats you so well, so good to you but he just can't pleasure you the way his best friend does.

The way satoru bullies his fat cock head into your cunt and stretches you so wide around his thick length while he fucks you so hard and stupid, you just can't get enough of that shit. Pussy clammed soo snugly around his dick as he's plowing you from behind, your face smushed up against the cold glass window, lewd wet sounds of skin slapping together filling the car as it's rocking back and forth.

"Gonna stuff this tight cunt so full of my cum" he grunts, feeling your cunt throbbing around him, "oh wow, of course the thought of another man filling you up turns you on, such a sick little bitch". His big hand lands harsh slaps on both of your already red ass cheeks as he moves his head closer to your neck, sucking and nibbling on the tender flesh, making sure he gets it all red and purple so your boyfriend can see it just for you to tell him that you got bitten by something.

You felt his hard cock twitching inside of you as he starts moaning into your neck, hard cum filled balls slapping against your soppy clit as he's rutting into you hard and recklessly like a desperate dog in heat. "Holy fucking shit, gonna drain my balls so fucking deep inside of you baby, oh fuckkkk". The way his voice sounded so fucking hot when he's moaning and talking dirty makes your eyes roll back, everything Satoru does during sex is just perfect, its like he knew exactly how to satisfy and pleasure you unlike your boyfriend.

"Yesyesyes! Please fill me up daddy!, need it s'badly please, m begging you" you cried out, so desperate and needy to be filled by him once again, you were just a tight hole for him to use whenever you two would meet up to fuck while Suguru is busy and clueless. Its been your little secret for the past two months. Your guilty pleasure.

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as you felt hot ropes of cum spurting into you, painting your tight walls white as he filled you up while he fucks it deeper and deeper into you with each forceful snap of his hips against you. He kisses your temple down to your jawline before pulling his cock out of you slowly, being very careful not to let any cum drip onto his car seat.

After the two of you was finished cleaning up, you saw the bright light of your phone's lock screen on with a bunch of missed calls and messages from Suguru. A big wave of guilt washes over you.

Suguru🤞🫀

"Baby are you okay?!"

"Why aren't you replying to me, where are you??"

(48 missed calls)

"I'm starting to get worried..please text me back princess"

"Baby it's been hours where are you? I came back from work a while ago, why didn’t you tell me you were going somewhere?"