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biteyoubiteme · 7 months ago

Text

late shift

fem!reader x bangchan

synopsis: you and your virgin coworker Chan share a bed.

warnings:🔞 !!! virgin!chan, whiny!chan, oral (m!rec), orgasm denial (m!rec), size kink if you squint, dom(ish) reader, praise, no protection, creampie, one bed trope, prob forgot some

wc: 3.77k

an: my first request! Thank you for submitting hope i did it justice lol also i lost the request i dont know where it went ;-; but i think i got everything you asked for

I used the line about ‘inviting someone back for ramen at your place’ synonymously with the term 'netflix and chill' I'm pretty sure that's the way the line is used in Korea. Correct me if I'm wrong lol. Anyways feedback appreciated :)) not proof read sorry! [m.list]

You've been at your current job for a few years and every other Friday you and your coworkers go out for a drink or dinner depending on how heavy the workload had been the previous weeks. This Friday was one of those times, only most of your coworkers had taken a work trip to help secure a big account. The office was basically empty around the end of the day now, only your office light and the office across the hall was on. Chan, the owner of the space in front of yours, could be seen typing on his computer through the glass, one of the few who had opted out of the trip to be able to leave earlier. Only both of you hadn't been leaving the office at reasonable times even if it had been promised. your days were still just as long only now you were picking up the other's work while they were gone. it was a shit deal but neither of you would complain, too shy to bring it up to your boss who did in fact keep his word on letting himself out early.

rubbing at your eyes you power off your laptop after looking at the time. if you didn't leave now to catch a streetcar you would have to walk home and you were too drained to do that. you start to pack up your things and across the way, you can see Chan doing the same, probably set to move when you did. he was always nice enough to wait every night until you got off to walk you to the stop sign to wait for your ride before he went across the street to catch a streetcar headed in the opposite direction. even without your other coworkers, he was always smiling at you from across the way waving as you left to head home.

As you slung your bag over your shoulder and headed to turn out the lights Chan was at the doorway giving a shy smile. “I'm a few seconds from collapsing on the floor and sleeping in my office,”

“me too,” you flip off the lights, “and I'm starving I don't even think I have anything in my fridge,”

Chan keeps pace with you as you make your way out of the building, reaching ahead of you to press the call elevator button “We could always keep the tradition going even if it's just the two of us, find a place for dinner?”

“I don't know, not a lot of places are open at this hour and I want to eat on the couch and pass out,” you say hopping in after Chan when the elevator arrives. The space is small enough to have your elbows touching. Chan pressed the button for the lobby, “We could eat ramen at your place?”

You are shocked to hear his suggestion and you assume he is too seeing at how he is bright red and stuttering, “No not like that- well kinda but just the food part- wait- I-,” he cuts himself off giving a flustered sigh, “I'm sorry i- we do not have to i'll just go home I'm sorry,” chan's rubbing at the back of his neck, ears red, eyes scrunched to avoid looking at anything at all because it would kill him to see your negative reaction. hell, it will kill him hearing you say no and push him away even if it was an innocent suggestion in the first place. he really didn't mean it that way he only wanted to hang out because he liked you and now he's gone and ruined that with a suggestion he didn't even fully intend to say in that way.

Your giggle fills the silent elevator and you bump your shoulder against his arm, “It's okay Channie, it's definitely a perfect idea, ramen sounds so good, anything warm will send me straight to bed,” You find it cute how flustered he gets around the topic of sex. drinks out with coworkers leading to his confession months ago that he was inexperienced in bed, the flush on his cheeks as he begged the others not to ask him dirty questions.

please you're joking Chan there is no way you haven't had sex yet! your defense of him that night only makes him like you more, who cares anyway? We should not be sharing bedroom talk with our coworkers. To know you are all kiss and tellers is an explanation enough as to why none of you get any when we go to bars. The conversation moved past Chan's Confession to laughs about how their coworkers had in fact picked up ladies from bars before. Chan had been thankful but the next morning when he remembered sharing he was a virgin in front of his crush was mortifying but you never brought it up again.

you didn't really care that Chan was a virgin, finding out didn't make you like him any less than you already did. even if Chan had been asking to go back to your place to have sex you don’t think you would have turned him down. for as long as you worked in the office across from him you couldn't help but think about asking him out just the two of you but you had witnessed Chan turn someone down before in the breakroom. The way he smiled so sweetly as he said he didn't really like to date coworkers made you try and push the image of the two of you together away. you were friends and inviting him over was something friends did.

“There is a convenience store across from my apartment, works out great,” you smile once you leave the elevator, “it won't be too late for you to head back home later?”

“no northbound street cars run another lap, unlike the southbound ones I should make the last one,” the two of you ride to your place with polite small talk, and when you get off you cross the street to the store to pick up your dinner.

It's the first time Chan has been in your small place, the one you haven't upgraded since you were in college because you didn't see the need for any more room but with Chan in the living room taking up most of the couch you wish you had. Both of you seated watching TV had your legs pressed together from the hip to the knee, his body heat overwhelmingly comfortable as you ate dinner.

Neither of you realized you were beginning to fade, eyelids heavy as you tried to blink away sleep. When you realized you had dozed off, the TV was playing a movie that neither of you had put on, your head resting on Chan as he slumped over the armrest of the couch. you pick up your phone to check the time, the movement waking Chan up, “oh no it's so late,” you yawn pulling yourself up, “The last streetcar left an hour ago,”

“shit,” Chan yawns, stretching out still in his button-up shirt, he had taken off his work coat when he came in but this was nothing he could sleep in.

“it's okay you can stay but I have nothing for you to wear,”

“I can walk it's okay-“

“You will not be walking all the way home. it's fine you can sleep in my bed I don't even think the couch is long enough for me to stretch out all the way,”

“Then where will you sleep?”

“the floor, it's okay,” you say waving him away to check to make sure your room is clean of clothes on the floor. you wave him over as he shakes his head, “No you're not sleeping on the floor in your own home, we can share I don't mind, or I'll Sleep on the floor,”

“Fine, we can share,” You're too tired to argue, too tired to think about the fact that Chan is standing in the doorway as you turn around and pull out your oversized sleepshirt, shedding your work top and bra off.

Chan is suddenly frozen fully awake watching you. He can only see your bare back turned to him, the image of your fingers unhooking your bra burned into his mind before you tug on the oversized shirt. but you're not done, the button of your work pants is undone, and at only sound in the room is the ripple of your zipper before you tug your pants down leaving you in your underwear. he cannot see them but he can see the outline through your white shirt, the black fabric hugging your ass as you pull the covers back to climb into the bed. “turn off the lights when you're ready,” your eyes already closed as you snuggle into the sheets. but Chan can't move. He is sure if you opened your eyes it would be very obvious that he was thinking about you lying in bed next to him almost naked. only two articles of fabric separating your completely naked form from him.

he swallows the lump in his throat unbuttoning his work shirt, when it's gone he starts on his pants even taking them off to leave him in his underwear is enough to make him sigh. the pressure on his cock releasing just a bit but not enough to make him go soft. He's cursing at his body for making it so obvious he wants you. You're so natural at this, not even caring that he's climbing in bed next to you and he's a complete mess as he edges in on the far side of the bed trying not to make any contact at all as he turns the lamp off.

in the dark, he tries to tell himself to calm down but it doesn't work, not when he can smell you on the sheets, when all he can think about is that if you touched yourself you would have to do it in this bed.

You're not even thinking about anything besides falling asleep. You can hear Chan trying to get comfortable next to you, tossing and turning, the dip in the bed from his weight making you slide closer to him. you're barely touching him but he's gone still next to you, without thinking you roll your hips to try and pull away not wanting to make him uncomfortable but it does the opposite because you slide closer to him your ass pressed against his very prominent erection.

if it wasn't for Chan's uneven breaths you would have thought he was asleep with how still and quiet he is. you wonder if you should pull away and ignore him, act like nothing was wrong, that you did not feel anything at all, and that you were asleep already and it was an accident. but the heat of him makes you wet, just the idea of rubbing back against him sends you into overdrive. you move your hips again to hear the soft whine Chan lets out, he's so close to your ear that it makes the sound amplified.

Chan reaches out, his palm wrapping around your hip and you brush against him again. His whine is louder, a weak, “I'm Sorry,” mixed in with the sound. Chan's hips bump forward looking for more friction but you can tell he's trying to hold himself back with how hard he's holding you. “it's okay,” you whisper grinding back into his strained thrusts.

“ill stop, I swear,” but he can't bring himself to listen to anything he says, the feel of your ass against him is so much better than when he ruts against his pillow at home. You're so warm, so firm, and he can't help himself. Chan's movements are jerky as he presses himself against you, the thin material of his underwear making him groan in annoyance.

“You don't have to stop,” you mutter, encouraging him with each roll of your hips against him. “if you want I can use my hands,”

The thought alone would have made Chan cum if he hadn't pulled himself away from you, rolling on his back and whining from denying himself.

you sit up next to him, watching him squeeze his eyes shut, hair a mess on his forehead before he runs his hands through it grabbing the strands and pulling at them. He's panting hard, the rise and fall of his chest catching your attention. You've never seen Chan shirtless, you didn't know that underneath the suit he wears he is completely ripped. Your mouth waters with the need to lick him up and down, to kiss him, if he let you suck him off it would be a very good night. “If you don't want me to use my hands I could use my mouth,” Chan whines again, a weak thrust of his hips into the air at your words. you lean down until your lips are next to his ear, “If you don't want my mouth I could let you use me in other ways,” he's fully humping the air now, fists made in the sheets.

“I don't- I've never…” he shakes his head finally opening his eyes. pupils were blown looking for you to understand, “I want to be good for you but I don't know how,”

“I can show you,” your lips brushing his as you whisper it, “only if you want me to,”

“I do!” he nods, “I want you, I've wanted you so fucking bad for too long,”

you kiss him and he could shatter at the seams from finally getting to taste you. Chan has made out with people before, he knows he's a good kisser, what he's worried about is everything else. but with your lips on him, he's a little less worried. breaking the kiss you move to straddle his abdomen, kissing down his jaw as he throws his head back. He can't control his thrusts anymore, searching for friction where you're purposefully not giving him. “patience Channie,” you say between nips at his neck, his whines in response but you shake your head. “I know you're needy but it will feel better with foreplay,”

he nods as you work down his collarbones, reaching his nipples as you slide down his body. you lick down his chest and abs, circling his navel and following a line down to his waistband. The cold air hits the line you've made down him and Chan moans at the feeling, goosebumps rising over his arms. He wants to touch you, peel your shirt away, and finally see more than just your bare back. almost as if you can read his thoughts you sit up placing your ass on his thighs before pulling off your shirt. nipples pebbling from the air, Chan's hands fisting the sheets so hard his knuckles are bloodless.

“If you're good next time I'll let you lick me the way I did for you,” Chan whines almost painfully before you lean down moving back until you are face to face with his clothed bulge. already a dark spot on the fabric from his precum. “Let me know if you're about to cum okay?”

Chan nods head lifting to watch as you lean forward and kiss over where he's straining in his underwear. his hips try to chase your mouth when you pull away and you tisk at him, “Patience Chan I shouldn't have to tell you twice,”

“I can't help it,” he moans, your fingers hooked into the elastic around his waist pulling the fabric down his legs, his cock heavily slapping against his stomach. every vein prominent, ruddy tip swollen and begging to be kissed. you gather the spit in your mouth before letting it drop down against his length. If you are going to fit it in you're going to have to take the time to stretch yourself out so it won't hurt. For now, you wrap your hand around him, giving him a few shallow pumps, his moans of approval the only sound in the room. you let Chan thrust into your hand when he doesn't like your pace but you completely pull away when he says, “I'm going to cum im-“ he whines so loud at missing his release, your lips on his thigh as you use your hands to hold his hips back from coming up off the mattress.

“no please, please I want to cum, please,” he begs, trying to rut in the air but you shake your head.

“You have to wait pretty boy, you can hold out a little more right?” but he doesn't get to answer when you lick up his shaft, tongue swirling around his tip.

Chan has never been so noisy in his life, he's never wanted, no needed, to cum so bad. when you fully take him into your mouth he sees spots in his vision, the coiling in his pelvis intensifying. he doesn't want to tell you but like you're sucking the words right out of him he whimpers, “cumming im-,” but it's ripped away from him again and he's on the verge of tears. he won't be able to last any longer not like this, when every brush of your fingers on him makes him twitch. he lets go of the death grips he has on the sheets pushing himself up be rolls the two of you over.

you're shocked as he pins you down, his face pressed into your neck whimpers tickling your skin. “please, can I cum inside you?” his cock is rubbing against your covered center, and he can feel that the fabric is wet with your arousal, knows he must be doing something right when your soft moans come every time he rubs against your clit.

you nod knowing you won't be able to say no to him, not when you want him this bad. “take my panties off,” Chan listened, not waiting a moment to follow your order. when they are gone he's stopped by the sight of you. laid out for him glistening, you reach down using two of your fingers to make a v pushing open more of yourself so he can see. Chan watches as you drag your fingers through your wetness, and whines as he watches you dip a finger into your entrance.“you listen so well Channie if you keep listening I'll let you taste me,”

chans weak in the knees at your words, he wants nothing more than to please you, to hear you say nice things to him over and over, to finally let him sink into your warm heat. “please,” it's so quiet you almost miss it.

“Grab your cock in your hand,” he does as you say, “then lean over me and run the length of you in my wetness kinda like you were doing before okay?” he nods and when he plants his hand next to your head he looks down to watch what he's doing. both of you moaning as he rubs against your clit, he could just stop here, he knows just this will make him cum without a second thought but you won't let him. “drag your tip down until it catches if you miss ill help you, okay?”

but Chan doesn't need your help, the head of his cock prodding your entrance, his hips jerking knowing he's so close to feeling all of you, “you're doing so good,” you hum brushing your fingers through his hair, “slowly push in I won't be able to take it all unless you go slow,”

Chan pushes in following your instructions. he's hardly in when he's shaking, you feel so fucking good, warm, and just right. he will never be able to imagine taking you while he's alone again, his hand won't cut it anymore, not after this.

his moan is guttural as he fully seats himself inside you, your hips meeting his. chans so deep you can swear he's touching your womb, your hands wrap around his shoulders, both of you catching your breath, “you have to move slow, warm me up a little before you can trust harder,” Chan nods but he doesn't know if he will be able to last long enough to make himself go any faster. Your warm walls feel so fucking good he could cum without moving at all, but he slowly pulls out before sinking back in. You're so wet it's easy to find a steady pace.

“Just like that Channie,” you moan and Chan whines at the praise, he wants to be perfect for you, as perfect as you've been for him and he can't control himself, his hips sinking hitting you deeper than you felt before.

you moan loudly as he brushes your gummy stop making you see stars, “your hand, use your hand on my clit,” you whimper and when Chan's fingers find the perfect spot he feels you clench around him. he gives a shocked moan not realizing you could feel any better, his orgasm so close he presses his fingers harder against you, your shocked gasp music to his ears. you didn't think you would cum seeing as it was his first time but you're right on the cusp when you hear his pants, “I'm going to cum, please, I need to cum, let me cum in you,” he begs eyes watching where the two of you connect.

“you've been so good to me,” your words making his stomach flex, balls tightening, and you can feel him twitch inside you, “cum for me Channie,”

he cries out as he finishes, hot ropes of cum spilling inside you making you follow right after him. The fluttering of your cunt makes him whine sinking in deeper letting his body weight fall on you as he pumps more cum deep inside you.

never has he cum so hard or this much, never did he think it would feel this amazing.

Chans is lying on top of you, both of you sweaty and panting. your fingers comb his hair back from his forehead, scratching his scalp until he's humming. you can feel his softening cock inside you, his hips twitching every once in a while. Neither of you moves, only enjoying the feel of each other. “Did you mean what you said?” Chan asks and you scrunch your brows. “what?”

“about next time? that there would be a next time.”

you giggle pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Yes if you're good there will be a next time,” but you can feel Chan twitch inside you already growing hard again.

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spicyspiders · 9 months ago

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something that never existed

Francis Mosses x male reader smut

1.4k words

This is really dark. Francis gives the reader a bottle of milk that makes him feel funny, follows him home, and then takes care of him.

It hits you during the middle of your shift. You aren’t sure of what, but the feeling of it has grown more intense each hour since it began. Pushing through the double doors is harder than when you did it this morning, your arms feeling heavy.

The cool evening air against your skin nearly has you moaning. Your skin burns, and the refreshing air makes you want to tear off your clothes. Each step against the pavement feels heavy as you slug your way to your home. If you were a passerby, you would probably be annoyed hearing the loud sound of your shoes against the sidewalk, but even though the noise filled your ears again and again, you could also hear the quieter steps of someone behind you.

Someone fucking drugged you. Or maybe something made it through the slot in your workstation. Or maybe–

You didn’t fucking know. All you knew was that because of it, you were half-hard by the time you made it to your front door.

“Are you following me?” You asked loudly as you leaned your sweaty forehead against your door. You panted against the door as you waited for a response. You laughed to yourself as you stuck your hand into your pocket to get your keys. Great, alongside the lust, you were also going crazy.

“You looked like you needed help. So yes, I followed you,” a voice said from behind you.

Your eyebrows drew together, trying to recognize the voice. It only took a few moments to pinpoint where you knew it from. You heard nearly a hundred voices a day at your job, but there was something about the man’s voice that was different and made it memorable.

You just couldn’t remember his name though. Frank? Fraser? Frederick? You didn’t really care to try and remember his name. You had more pressing matters, like picking up the keys you had finally pulled from your pocket and then dropped on the fucking ground.

“Let me,” Frank, Fraser, or Frederick says, his voice much closer behind you. “Here,” he says, now beside you.

You hold your hand out to accept the cold metal into your palm. You hope the man will just leave as you close your fingers around the keys and the sharp metal digs into your palm, but the man stays.

“I’m fine,” you say to the man, sticking the key into the knob with your shaky hands.

“Let me at least help you get inside,” the man responds, one of his hands moves to your shoulder, while the other goes to your waist to hold you upright.

“Fuck,” you whisper. Where he touches you somehow feels warmer than the rest of your body feels, even over your clothes. His voice brings you back to earlier in the day when he showed up to the window to be let in. You thought it was pretty weird for a milkman to deliver to his own apartment building, but it definitely wasn’t the weirdest thing you saw during your shift.

“Let me in?” He had asked you earlier that day. Through the window, you could see his carrier full of milk bottles, but you could also see an extra bottle in his other hand.

“Making an extra delivery for today?” You asked as you looked over the papers he gave you.

The man didn’t answer. He must not have heard you, you thought. He nodded in appreciation when you gave his papers back and pressed the button to unlock the door. You thought that was going to be that, but the man got your attention again after you had started going through other papers on your desk.

“This is for you, actually,” he said as he held the bottle up. One corner of his mouth twitched up, making it look like for once, he wasn’t miserable.

“Oh,” you said in surprise. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to accept gifts, but took the bottle anyway through the slot under the window.

“You must get thirsty back there.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled lightly, “my mouth can get dry with all of the talking I do.”

He left after that, but you swore his eyes had flicked down to your lips before he walked through the door.

“Did you put something in that milk?” You asked, pulling the key from the knob.

Francis. You remembered as his hand went over yours on the knob. You could see the document in your head, as you tried to remember if the man with you now was the same from earlier in the day.

“Did you like it?” He asked, “I made it just for you,” he said into your ear, his warm breath puffing across your ear.

With strength you didn’t know you still had, you sent your elbow backward into the man’s chest. You thought that would be enough, but found yourself on the other side of the door with Francis on your back.

“What’d you do to me?” You moaned against the door. His weight on your back was heavy as he held you against the door. This close, you could feel the length of his cock digging into your lower back.

You let out another moan, but this time, Francis lets out one that matches yours when he grinds his hard cock into your back. His hands go to your hips to maneuver you around so he can grind his cock into the meat of your ass.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” Francis says, laying his body along the length of your back so he can say the words directly into your ear.

Enough to drug you, you guessed. Whatever he gave you was enough to turn your brain to mush, and the only control you had was dedicated to pushing your ass back into his cock.

“Please,” you whined, “it hurts.” Francis lets you fall slowly to the floor and makes his way to hold himself tightly against your back. What hurts is your hard cock, but of course, Francis knows that the relief you need comes in the form of his hands between your legs.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Francis whispers. His fingers skillfully get your pants open, and then his fingers– the same ones you saw earlier today hand you his papers, wrap around your cock.

You immediately fuck your hips into his fist, much closer than you expected. You hoped that with your release, Francis would be leaving along with it. Maybe you had fallen asleep at your station and this was some fucked up dream you were having. Letting your head fall forward to thunk into your door didn’t wake you up, so it’s likely that this was real.

“You’re so wet here,” Francis says in amazement as his fingers collect the precum from the head of your cock and what had already leaked down the shaft. He hooks his chin on your shoulder before he pulls his hand from your cock, and up to his mouth.

He groans into your neck when he gets the taste on your tongue, “Francis,” you whisper, hoping that saying his name would be enough. You didn’t want to beg, after all, your hard cock should be evidence enough of what you needed.

“I’m sorry,” Francis says, kissing his apology into the soft skin of your neck. Though it wasn’t on your lips, the press felt electric. “I just needed a taste.”

His words go straight to your cock and you feel another bead of precum drip from the head, just in time for Francis’ fingers as they wrap around the base.

You cum to Francis’ long fingers around your cock and to the feel of his cock digging into your back. With his chest pressed to your back, the groan he lets out as you come undone under his hands travels through your body. It almost feels as if he’s so close that he’s a part of you and the noise comes from your mouth. It makes you feel crazy. What makes you feel even crazier though is how much you moan for the man as your orgasm courses through your body.

Francis holds your body up with an arm wrapped around your stomach as you pant against the door and come down from the orgasm that just shot through your body. “Let’s go to bed, sweetheart,” Francis says, his voice full of promise, “it’s been a long day.”

It must be the drugs, you thought as you let him pull you up from the floor. Your soft cock gives a twitch from where it hangs between your legs. You weren’t even sure if it was worth buttoning your pants back up.

Francis was right, it had been a long day, but you had a feeling that you also had a long night ahead of you.

#x male reader #x male reader smut #milkman x reader #milkman x male reader #francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x male reader #francis mosses x male reader smut

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faggotboulevard · 3 months ago

Text

drabble about fucking logan (wolverine) because @embry-garrick implanted it into my brain

synopsis: holy shit u have a big dick n logan is having a field day

cw: riding, size kink, pain kink, reader has a huge dick, anal sex, no prep by choice, unsubstantial lube by choice, unprotected sex by choice, subtop logan dombot reader, established relationship, first time (in the relationship), 2nd person

dni minors, fems/mlm fetishizers, etc

You knew you were massive, that's why way back in high school you were pressured to join sports. You had admirers from both sexes and people would jump at the opportunity to date you in hope that you were as big down there as you were, body wise.

You were, and unfortunately scared off many potential fuck buddies with your size. You vividly remember an ex walking out mid make-out session when they saw your dick, and the situation you were in now was strikingly similar.

That train of thought was bouncing through your head like a pinball machine as you multitasked getting hot and heavy with Logan on the foot of his bed.

"You're distracted. Come on, focus, it's like kissing a brick wall," Logan complained gruffly, hands tangled in your hair as he bit playfully at your jawline to snap you out of whatever thoughts you were in.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Sorry. Maybe we're going a little fast?" you suggested, meeting his lips again as you attempted to focus on him.

"You're fuckin' kidding me. No, we've been dating for months, I'm ready," Logan disagreed. "You got something you're worried about?"

"No," you muttered, shaking your head to get the thoughts out. You steeled yourself to focus and gripped Logan's waist to pick him up and move him into your lap. He eagerly ground down onto your quickly hardening cock, groaning into your mouth as he felt the pants you were in tighten.

Logan quickly took off his own shirt and hurried to remove yours. Once the clothing was gone, he abandoned kissing your lips to kiss your neck and moved down your collar. He sighed and his eyes fluttered closed as he felt both of your hands snake in two different directions; one down to squeeze his ass and the other up to grip his hair.

"Need you. Been waiting long enough, want you in me. Wanna ride you," he whispered into your ear.

"Logan, I'm big," you warned warily, earning a confused pause.

"Big? Damn right you are. What's your point?" he grumbled, trying to get back to imminently fucking.

"My dick is big. I've had people up and leave because of it, so—"

"Well aren't you self-assured? Babe, let me judge if I want to get fucked or not," Logan answered playfully as he pressed tender kisses over your jawline to make up for the bites. "C'mon. You think I'm shy of a big dick?"

As you tugged off his pants, he undid your button to reciprocate and froze as he stared at your half-hard cock straining the fabric of your boxers.

"What's that, six inches? I mean, I can take it," he huffed, his face a mask of bravado. He pulled your pants all the way off and swallowed. "Okay... little more than six inches..."

Logan stroked you to hardness, muttering out quiet curses and "come on, come on... fuck," as he was eager to feel you. You were completely hard in just a few strokes, but his rough hand and the lack of any lubricant made you shy from the touch.

"Logan? Lube?" You reminded, to which he growled.

"Don't need it, bub."

"Yes you do! At the very least, I need it!" You protested.

"Relax," he rolled his eyes and attempted to take you in his mouth, but instead just let some spit dribble down since he'd ravish you with his mouth later. "Happy?"

"Let me prep you."

"Hell no."

Logan pushed your shoulders to the bed and hovered over you, to which you fished in your pants for a condom. "No condom, Lo,"

"Good."

"Go get one."

"Hell no," he repeated.

"You're gonna tear yourself," you said, sitting up.

"I can take it. I can take you. Just lay down," Logan demanded, to which you scoffed.

"Fine. It's not my bed that's getting blood all over, anyways."

Logan perched over you and lined your dick up, hissing as the wet head grazed his hole. "You're gonna be the end of me..."

"Fuck... fuck! Slower!" You demanded, worrying for Logan's poor body despite the fact that he healed instantaneously.

Among the shrill gasps and low groans, Logan uttered out a gravelly, "Please, just let me have this. You're splitting me in half, fuck, [Y/n], you're gonna make me cum like a virgin."

You grabbed Logan's hips and forced him to slow down, he was barely even a third of the way down and already tears were collecting in his eyes. "Easy, Logan," you said, but he suddenly grabbed your wrists and forced himself down to the base of your cock, a punched-out moan escaping his throat followed by a series of whimpers and gasps as he caught his breath. A hot stream of cum spurted from his unattended cock and onto your chest.

"Logan? You're bleeding. And you came..."

"I don't care. Fuck me like a man," Logan rasped out as he steeled himself to begin moving his hips.

#wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine x male reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x male reader #x reader #x male reader #wolverine smut #logan howlett smut #sub logan howlett #sub wolverine #dom reader #dom male reader #sub character

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punkshort · 3 months ago

Text

Swept Away | Chapter 10: Turn the Tide

Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: A devastating discovery leads you back into Joel's arms. But do you both have what it takes to make it work?

Chapter Warnings: language, sugar baby/daddy dynamics, mountains of angst, miscarriage (discussions and descriptions included, not terribly graphic, blood is mentioned, please skip if this is triggering for you), hurt/comfort, fluff, brief mention of vomit, anxiety, reader has long-ish hair, smut (18+ MDNI), fingering, protected piv sex, secrets are revealed and explain some underlying anxieties/trust issues

WC: 16.6K

Series Masterlist

One Month Later

"Jesus Christ, this place is doing a number on my allergies," Celine whined when she opened your apartment door to find you curled up on your couch with a heating pad. She looked around the room and shook her head, dropping her purse and keys on your floor because every single flat surface was being taken up by flowers. Flowers Joel had been sending you every fucking day since he dropped you off. "How can you stand it in here?"

"I can't," you muttered, staring listlessly at the television while she opened up the windows as far as they would go. "Been meaning to look into places where I could donate them but I'm in the middle of the worst period of my fucking life."

"Yeah, I can see that," she replied before collapsing in a huff on the other end of your couch. Her eyes skimmed your coffee table, filled with pain killers, water and tea before she asked, "Have you eaten?"

You nodded and pointed to the empty bowl under the table. "I heated up some soup."

"Maybe you should call your doctor, are your periods usually this bad?" she asked before picking up the dirty dishes and heading to your sink.

"No," you groaned, rolling onto your back with a wince. "I'm on the pill. They're usually a breeze."

"Then you should definitely call," she said over her shoulder. "Can't hurt to get checked out."

"Yeah? With what health insurance?" you countered angrily as you forced yourself to sit up.

"Still no luck finding a job?"

You shook your head then sneezed, scowling at the roses nearby like it was their fault.

"Then use some of the fifty fucking thousand dollars he gave you and see a goddamn doctor!" she exclaimed after drying your bowl and putting it away. "I know you don't want to use it but it doesn't matter, he won't know either way."

Fifty grand. He had wired you fifty grand instead of twenty. You spent a week going back and forth with your bank, making them reject the funds over and over until you finally caved because you couldn't stand to waste any more time on the phone with them over it. You had decided you would donate it like he suggested, but you never figured out where. Between that and all the flowers he kept sending, you couldn't decide if you should be flattered or pissed off.

On that particular day, with your uterus trying to extract itself from your body, you chose to be pissed off.

As if on cue, your buzzer rang and you could have screamed at the top of your lungs, already knowing who it was. Celine got to the intercom first and pressed the button.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, it's Jim, got today's flowers."

You grabbed a pillow and screamed into it, deciding to give into your urge.

"Alright, buzzing you up."

You heard her press the other button and hold it a few seconds before unlocking your door and leaving it cracked.

"He's in love with you," she said matter-of-factly from the door.

"I'm going to fucking kill him," you replied, making her laugh.

A light tap on the door came a few minutes later and Celine pushed it open to greet Jim, an older man with a white beard that reminded you of Santa, before she signed for the flowers.

"Jim, don't you have someone you could give these to instead?" you asked from the couch. He shook his head and grinned before handing over the vase of peonies, dahlias and roses.

"You know I can't do that."

You made a face and collapsed into the back of your couch.

"Maybe if you just call him, it'll end," Jim offered, "although I don't mind. You're keeping the shop afloat at this point," he joked.

"That's exactly what he wants," you replied. He shrugged and gave you a wave with a see you tomorrow, then disappeared down the hall. Celine closed the door and looked around the room for a clear spot before giving up and setting them on the ground.

"Maybe flower guy was right. Maybe you should call him."

"He's just used to getting his way. He can pull this shit with anyone else but I'm not gonna give in," you told her while simultaneously picking up your phone, fingers tapping angrily at your screen. She grinned and found her spot back on the couch.

"What are you doing?"

"Texting Joel and telling him to knock it the fuck off," you growled.

Celine tipped her head back and laughed. "Same thing! You're talking to him! You're giving him exactly what he wants."

"Okay, so I'm not perfect! What else is new?" you snapped after shooting off a text to Joel that said stop with the fucking flowers, I mean it.

Before Celine could reply, your phone vibrated in your lap.

Does this mean you're willing to see me? Or should I switch to chocolate?

You frowned and Celine knowingly tilted her head to the side.

"Girl. Come on. Hear him out. Maybe if you just meet up once and let him talk, he'll stop. I've never seen a guy text back as quickly as him, and he's got an actual successful business to run! Do you have a magic pussy or something, what the hell did you do to this guy?"

You cracked a smile for the first time in days. You didn't go into much detail with her since you came back. She knew you slept together and she knew he broke your heart, but everything else remained a mystery. And because she knew you would tell her in your own time, she never asked.

"I just think he's not used to hearing the word no," you told her, ignoring his text and setting your phone down on your coffee table.

"Or he's madly in love with you and doesn't know how to handle it," she countered with a raised eyebrow.

You opened your mouth to object, to remind her for the fourth time that Joel didn't fall in love with anyone, when a sharp pain shot through your legs and you doubled over with a deep groan. Celine lunged forward to rub your upper back, her smile long gone when she saw how you badly you were struggling.

"That's it. I'm calling your doctor," she said, snatching your phone from the table to scroll through your contacts.

You took a deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth, not bothering to stop her when she dialed the phone.

You sat on the exam table, a loud and irritating white piece of paper separating your thighs from the padding as your doctor sat before you, gently explaining what was happening while a low ringing began to echo in your head.

Miscarriage... hCG levels... four or five weeks... bleeding will end soon.

You just sat there in complete shock, a dumbstruck look on your face as she continued to explain it was nothing you did or didn't do, that it's extremely common, that you would likely go on to have a perfectly healthy pregnancy if you wanted. Then she said your name softly and your eyes refocused onto her bright blue ones behind her wire rimmed glasses.

"Do you have any questions?" she asked with a comforting hand on your knee.

Those glasses didn't suit her face at all, they were too round. Why didn't anyone ever tell her?

"Uh," you croaked before clearing your throat. "I'm... I'm on the pill. How did this happen?"

"It's ninety nine percent effective but it's lower if you skip days or forget to take them at the same time. Did that happen last month at all?"

Last month. When you were on the island with Joel. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"Um, well, I was in Fiji last month," you began, fingers twisting anxiously in your lap. You still only had a pink paper gown to cover you after your exam. You felt so exposed and raw that your skin hurt.

"Did you account for the time change?" she asked. Your eyes fluttered shut and you dropped your chin to your chest.

"No." How stupid. Why didn't that occur to you? "I might have forgotten a day here and there, too. There was one weekend we were away and I forgot-" you stopped yourself and pinched the bridge of your nose. "Doesn't matter, I guess."

She patted your knee again and gave it a little squeeze.

"It's alright, you're going to be okay," she assured you. You nodded and swallowed thickly before looking back up.

"I know. I just... I thought if this ever happened..." you trailed off as you struggled to find the right words. "I thought I'd feel..." you couldn't finish your sentence but she seemed to understand anyway.

"It's completely normal. You didn't even know until it was already over. You're probably just in shock, it's a lot to take in," she said before kicking off the floor so her stool would roll over to the wall that held various pamphlets. She plucked a few from the hard plastic holders and held them out to you. "These will help explain more of what you're going through, but if you have any questions or if you're finding you need a little extra help to get through this, please give the office a call. We have a twenty four hour service, they'll connect me with you, day or night."

You thanked her softly and stared blankly at the pamphlets while she gathered her things before slipping out of the room, giving you some privacy to get dressed.

It was surreal, driving back home, burdened with this brand new knowledge, this thing you had no idea how to process. Shouldn't you be sad? Shouldn't you grieve the loss in some way? Maybe your doctor was right. Maybe you were in shock.

As you walked up to your building, a familiar olive green truck rumbled up to the curb, tapping out a light beep in greeting and shaking you out of your funk.

"Oh, hey," you said, smiling weakly at Jim when he jumped out with a wave.

"Good timing," he replied before climbing into the back of the truck to hand you a teddy bear with a little rose pinned to its chest. "He's switching it up," Jim said, smile falling when he saw the look on your face. "Hey, everything okay?"

You nodded quickly and reached for the pen to scribble your name. "Yeah, sorry, just tired."

He pressed his lips into a thin line before taking the pen back and giving you one last look.

"Well, get some rest, yeah? Need some help getting up to your place?"

"No, thank you, I'm good," you told him sincerely, then gave him a little wave before heading up the stairs to your building. He called out his usual see you tomorrow and you forced a smile before disappearing inside.

You supposed it was good you hadn't found a job yet. At least you could waste away in your bed until this strange feeling passed and you could process everything.

After you changed back into comfortable clothes with the plan to find some shitty movie to zone out to, you heard your doorbell buzz. With a confused frown, you shuffled back out into the living room, wondering who it could be. Jim had already dropped off Joel's daily gift and Celine had a key.

For one stupid, foolish moment you thought it might be Joel. Like he had somehow, from across the city and with absolutely no knowledge as to what was going on, found out about the miscarriage and came to scoop you into his arms and tell you everything would be okay.

The mere thought caused tears to sting your eyes and you quickly blinked them away, chalking it up to hormonal changes and the emotional morning.

"Yes?" you called weakly through the speaker.

A man's voice replied with your name posed as a question, followed by got a delivery here for you.

You buzzed him in and curiously craned your neck out into your hall, chewing your lower lip until the elevator dinged and a man dressed in an all brown uniform emerged carrying a large, flat, square package.

When he approached, he confirmed your name again before handing you something to sign, which you did blindly as your focus was still on the box at his feet.

"Where's it from?" you asked, stepping to the side so he could set it against your wall.

"Uh..." he trailed off, distracted momentarily by all the flowers, and then squinted at the paper you just signed. "Fiji Islands. That's pretty rad. Hope it's a vacation," he joked before tucking the clipboard under his arm and exiting back out into the hallway.

It took about ten seconds after he left for you to realize what it was, yet you still shakily opened the box, your palm cupping your mouth when the bubble wrap fell to the floor and Ellie's painting sat before you. You crumpled to the ground and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the memories of pink seashells and stolen kisses and warm brown eyes and whispers of my girl. But it was staring you in the face. The painting that spoke to you before you even understood what it was saying, the painting Joel bought for you without a second thought, before you slept together, before it all fell apart.

Hot tears trickled down your face when you fumbled for your phone, your thumb hovering over the call button next to his name.

Just do it. Just call him. You wanted to hear his voice. You wanted him to hold you close and tell you it wasn't your fault. You wanted him to stay with you until the blood and the agony passed and everything from the past few hours became a horrible, distant memory.

Perhaps the shock was beginning to wear off.

At the last second, you scrolled up and tapped Celine's name instead. When she heard the broken sound of your voice, she dropped what she was doing to rush over, not even asking for details until you had stopped crying on her shoulder. You told her about your appointment. About the painting. About the seashells. About Brooks. About everything until your voice was raw and your face felt swollen and hot from crying.

She tucked you into bed and laid curled up next to you. She softly told you about her own miscarriage she had when she was nineteen. She told you the pain would go away, that the void inside would eventually fill again. But halfway through some movie she had found that mostly served as background noise, she turned to you and said the words you needed to hear. Like you were waiting for someone else's permission to give in.

"You gotta tell him, babe."

You couldn't even remember how you got there, standing in front of his hotel five days later, body now mostly recovered and fueled by caffeine from the shop three blocks away. It felt like you were drawn to him, like you weren't even making your own decisions, telling yourself you were just going to take a short walk to enjoy the weather and clear your head after downing an iced coffee.

Certainly if you had known you would have been walking through the doors of his lobby, giving the same man from that first day in the same pristine black suit a nervous smile before making your way across the room, sneakers squeaking on the floor as you walked, you would have prepared a little better.

It was quiet. The concierge looked bored and tapped her pen on a pad of paper, chin resting in her fist as she pretended to work. Elevator cars silently whirred up and down on both sides of you, the glass walls allowing you a sneak peek at guests going up to their rooms.

You cleared your throat when you approached reception, your mouth opening to give them your name when a man's surprised voice said it for you.

Swiveling around, you locked eyes with a dark haired man wearing thick rimmed glasses and a black bow tie over his tight fitting white shirt and tailored pants. You gave him a small smile, but your confusion must have been obvious because he blinked and shook his head before stepping forward and offering you his hand.

"I'm Liam," he began, "Joel's assistant."

"Oh!" you exclaimed, shaking his hand while the gears slowly turned in your head. "Oh, so you're the one who bought all the clothes and stuff."

Liam grinned and nodded, dropping your hand so he could wrap both arms around the pad-folio pressed to his chest.

"I had pictures to work with when I was choosing colors. You know, so I could best compliment your hair and skin tone. I hope you liked everything."

"Yes! Oh, yes, everything was beautiful, thank you so much," you said hurriedly, then lowered your voice when you realized you were echoing. "Uh, is he in?"

Liam's shoulders sagged and he rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Yes, thank god," he breathed, waving you over to an elevator and pressing the button. "I was afraid you were just here picking something up. I'm so glad you want to see him, he's been -"

You frowned when Liam seemed to realize he was saying too much and he cut himself off, lips pursing as he stared at the unopened elevator.

"What?"

Liam shook his head and shrugged right when the doors slid open. He beckoned for you to enter first before following, pressing the pad of his finger into a scanner and tapping a button. Only when the doors shut did he turn back to you.

"He's been worse than usual. I think he's upset about whatever happened," he explained, then waved his hands in the air and added, "I mean, he didn't tell me anything, but I'm assuming something happened because he's picking out flowers every single morning and asking me to have them delivered."

"He's been picking them out?" you repeated.

Liam just nodded. "It's none of my business, but he's never had me do this for anyone before. And I've worked for him for ten years," he said dramatically, raising his thick eyebrows at you knowingly.

"Oh," you said softly, dropping your gaze to the floor.

The elevator chimed and the doors slid open, leading you out into the same hallway you walked down over two months ago when you first met. Butterflies instantly bloomed in your stomach as you followed behind Liam, keeping your gaze low while you tried to regulate your breathing. You had no idea how you were going to tell him, no rehearsed speech, nothing.

"He's in a meeting right now, but it'll be over in," Liam glanced at his watch, "twenty minutes. I'll take you to his office and let him know you're here when he's done."

You nodded and turned the corner, Joel's office already in view when you walked by the executive conference room. It looked the same as it did in your memory, the wall that bordered the hallway made of glass and inside, a long table with high back leather chairs. Only this time, people were inside having what appeared to be a very important meeting. Men and women in suits filled the table. Papers, mugs of coffee and laptops were scattered everywhere. The flat screen televisions projected extremely big numbers connected to various cities, presumably the locations of The Parador, but what made you stumble was seeing Joel at the head of the table.

His black tie was loosened around his neck, suit coat draped over the back of his chair as he stared at the screen, then his phone, gaze bouncing back and forth while next to him, a sweaty looking man gripping a laptop with one flat, shaky hand, spoke about the numbers.

You unconsciously slowed, unable to tear your eyes away when Joel stood up. His gaze was pinned to something on his phone, which now rested on the table. He was still listening to the man on his left but the more he spoke, the angrier Joel looked. You saw his nostrils flare and his jaw set while he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, the irritation rolling off his tight shoulders until he finally snapped.

Their voices were muffled, but you probably wouldn't have been able to understand what they were talking about, anyway. Joel's brows were knit together, lips curled into a sneer as he spoke loudly enough to the group for you to hear the deep timber of his voice from where you stood in the hall.

Liam didn't say a word, allowing you to come to a standstill and watch Joel with a sly smirk from a few feet away.

You couldn't explain the feeling you had as you watched him, never before seeing him at work with your own two eyes. You knew he was important, obviously, but there was just something about the way he commanded the room, the way full grown men practically cowered when he began to pace around, his finger pointing at the sweaty man and then the screen. It made your heart race and your lips part as your breathing grew shallow, like you were in a trance.

And then Joel spun around, his eyes locking on yours through the glass like he suddenly sensed your presence, and the room went silent. His back instantly straightened and his brows relaxed and then a moment later he was storming towards the glass door.

"Joel?" you heard one of the men at the table call out when the door flung open.

"We're done, meeting's over," he tossed back over his shoulder. If you could have looked away from him, you would have seen the relieved look on all their faces as they began to hastily gather their things.

He stalked up to you, slowing to a stop when he was a couple feet away, then scanned you up and down, like he couldn't believe his eyes.

Neither of you spoke. You just stared at one another, hearts thundering wildly in your chests.

"Hey," he finally breathed, afraid if he spoke any louder he might scare you off.

"Hi," you replied timidly. Your gaze flickered around to Liam, to other people pretending to work within earshot, and to the people filing out of the conference room before meeting his eye again.

He finally snapped out of it and held out an arm, ushering you towards the direction of his office.

"C'mon," was all he said, and you quickly scurried down the hall with Joel hot on your heels.

"Can I get you anything? Coffee, water, tea?" Liam called. You could hear the smile in his voice before you turned around and said, "Water would be nice."

"I got water in here," Joel said gruffly, his hand gently grazing your lower back. He turned around to Liam and said, "No interruptions," before closing the door behind you both.

You looked around his office, everything just how you remembered it. Massive mahogany desk, dark green couch and chair near the well stocked bar, the entire room surrounded by bookshelves, awards, and various decor items, but no picture frames. How didn't you notice that before?

"Have a seat," Joel said, sliding past to get you ice water from the bar. You sunk down into the green couch, feeling just as nervous as the last time you were there.

"Thank you," you said when he placed the glass on a coaster. He nodded and seemed to take a moment before deciding to sit in the chair, giving you your space.

"I'm glad you came," he said, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. Your eyes dropped to your shoes. Your dirty sneakers pressing into his expensive carpet and your frayed jeans... you couldn't even remember the last time they were washed.

"Yeah," you replied, voice sounding nothing like your own. You reached for your water and took a sip before carefully setting it down, fearful of even one drop landing on the rug or table. "I'm sorry. You were in a meeting, I would have waited."

"Fuck 'em," he said, and your eyes rose to find his. God, they looked so soft and kind, the way the sunlight hit them took your breath away. "Would rather talk to you than any of 'em," he added with a little smile.

"I got the painting," you told him. "It's beautiful, thank you," you added warmly, then frowned a bit when he excitedly stood to hurry behind his desk.

"That reminds me, I got somethin' else for you."

"Oh, Joel, please don't tell me it's more flowers," you begged, and he laughed lightly before bringing over a small black shopping bag. There was a designer label stamped on the side and you frowned.

"It ain't that - just open it," he insisted, handing you the bag before sitting back down on the edge of his seat.

Hesitantly, you peered inside, and what awaited you tore your heart in two.

"Joel..."

He smiled. He couldn't help himself.

"Was gonna leave it by your door or somethin' later," he said, his brown eyes sparkling as you lifted one of many pink seashells out of the bag to get a closer look.

"When did you -"

"Had to go back for a couple days and sign some paperwork," he explained. Your eyebrows pulled together and tears welled in your eyes as you stared down at the beautiful seashells he had collected, all for you.

"Thank you," you whispered, gingerly setting it back into the bag and placing it at your feet.

"You're welcome," he replied, his soft tone matching yours.

Alright. It was now or never.

You took a deep breath, rubbing your palms anxiously over the tops of your thighs, but before you could get a word out, he spoke again.

"I wanna tell you everythin'," he said. All the air left your lungs and you swallowed tightly. "I mean it. I'll tell you everythin', and not 'cause you want me to, 'cause I want to. I've been doin' alotta thinkin', and -"

"Joel," you interrupted. He scratched his eyebrow with his thumb and shook his head.

"Just hear me out."

"No, Joel, I need to tell you something," you said. He must have heard something change in your voice because he stopped talking. He searched your face for any indication of what was to come, but of course came up empty.

"Okay," he said slowly. He watched your fingers fidget nervously in your lap and suddenly you couldn't make eye contact with him anymore.

"I don't really know how to say this," you began.

Oh fuck, you've met someone else, was his first thought.

"I, uh," then you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your lips into a tight line and panic seized his throat.

Something was wrong.

"It's okay," he said soothingly. He tried to inch forward but if he moved any more he would fall off the damn chair. "Go ahead, darlin'. What's goin' on?"

One single tear slid down your cheek and he swore he stopped breathing when you said the words I had a miscarriage.

"What?" he whispered, pain and confusion clouding his face.

You opened your eyes and forced yourself to look at him.

"I had a miscarriage and I just thought you had a right to know."

Your voice trembled and cracked as you forced the words out and he couldn't hold back any longer. He stood and rushed to your side, just like you always knew he would, just like you wanted. He enveloped you in his arms and pressed his lips against the top of your head. He rocked you back and forth, strong arms curled around your midsection, and you melted. You melted into him and didn't even try to fight it. For the past week, hell, for the past month, it was all you wanted.

"When?" he choked out. You circled your arms around him and your legs were suddenly pulled across his lap. He smelled so good, like that cologne you never could identify but was so distinctly him. You dragged in a deep breath, unaware of the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"About a week ago."

Joel's grip around you tightened.

"You shoulda called me, baby. I woulda been there."

"I know," you sniffled. You rubbed the back of your hand under your nose and tried to breathe deep. "I know. But I didn't know it even happened until I went to the doctor."

You told him the whole story. Told him how you thought it was a bad period, how Celine called your doctor, how she explained what likely happened and that it was your own stupid fucking fault for messing up your pill.

"It ain't your fault," he told you, his voice reverberating in his chest. You closed your eyes and leaned into him, fingers grappling at the fabric of his shirt.

"You're not mad?" you whimpered.

"Baby, please," he begged, "'Course I ain't mad. Don't go carryin' this 'round. Don't carry that guilt. If it was meant to be, it would be, alright?"

Your tears flowed, then, unstoppable as they barreled down your cheeks. Your sobs could probably be heard from the other side of the door but you didn't care. Joel continued to hold you, cradle you, and hum soothingly against the top of your head until your tears slowed and your breath grew ragged.

"Are you okay?" he asked after you quieted down. His hand was flat against your back, rubbing wide circles as you continued to cling to him.

"Yeah, I think so," you said truthfully. "I just didn't expect it and then with the hormone change, it all kind of hit me at once, you know?"

"Yeah," he answered, "yeah, I get it. Is there anythin' I can do? Anythin' you need?"

You shook your head, biting down hard on your lip so you didn't say I just need you.

It seemed as though maybe he read your mind, or maybe he really had been giving things alot of thought because the next thing he said was, "I wanna do this right."

You felt the next wave of tears coming so you burrowed further into him, pressing your face against his neck, breathing him in and letting him slowly put you back together with each comforting stroke of his hand.

"Lemme do this right, sweetheart, please. Tell me how to fix it."

You didn't have the answer. Your eyes were dry and burning from all the tears you had just spilled and you felt completely drained. Every muscle in your body felt weak and useless, the last thing you wanted to do was think.

You continued to sit in silence, the only sound coming from the gold mantle clock slowly ticking away the seconds and some very faint murmuring when groups of people would walk by Joel's office. You closed your eyes, encased in his warmth, and let your mind drift back to everything that went wrong, wondering how you would do things differently if you could go back in time. Then you remembered something Joel had said on the plane and your eyes snapped open.

"What if we started over?"

His thumb, which was drawing slow, comforting circles over your arm, paused.

"You'd - yeah," he agreed, sounding a little breathless, "yeah, I think that's a good idea."

You sat up, untangling yourself from him so you could sit properly on the couch. You pulled your legs from his lap and tucked them underneath you before sticking out your hand and reintroducing yourself with a shaky smile.

He gave you a little grin before taking your hand in his, eyes glistening when he said, "Joel Miller."

It was impossible to keep the smile from your face when you heard the buzzer, followed by Joel's deep voice letting you know he was there to pick you up for your date.

Your "first" date.

With a skip in your step, you trotted to the elevator, tapped your foot impatiently all the way down, and practically ran out into the lobby with excitement. You caught yourself at the last second, making sure you looked more collected and cool than you really felt before pushing open the front doors.

And there he stood, in all his glory, at the bottom of your building's stone steps. His hands were in the pockets of his expensive black suit, and he grinned when he saw you for the first time, a stark contrast from the last time you each stood in those spots.

"You look beautiful," he murmured when you got closer, eyes dropping appreciatively to take in the light blue floral dress you chose, then bent over to plant a kiss on your cheek. The way his scruff tickled your skin had a wave of goosebumps flashing over your arms, making you shiver.

"Thank you," you said, scooting into the backseat of his car when he held the door open for you.

"Hi, Richie."

"Hey, honey," he replied with a smile and wink in the review mirror.

Joel rounded the back of the car and slipped in beside you, then gave Richie a nod to start driving.

"Wait, where are we going?" you asked as you buckled your seatbelt.

"Got a reservation at this French restaurant that just opened up. Supposed to be impossible to get in but, well..." he smirked a little and shrugged, letting his sentence trail off.

"Uh, I was actually thinking of something else."

Joel gave you a curious look. "Like what?"

"Like... maybe getting pizza at Sal's and then catching the 9:45 showing of Shadow Strike?" you offered with a cheesy smile. Joel laughed, eyes crinkling as he tipped his head back. Seeing him so relaxed and happy was truly a sight to behold.

"Anythin' you want," he replied, then leaned forward. "Hear that, Richie?"

"Yes, sir."

Joel patted the headrest twice and sat back, brown eyes dancing when they found you again.

"Hole in the wall pizza joint and a movie theater? I'm gonna regret wearin' these shoes, ain't I?"

You looked down at the shiny, black leather and giggled.

"How much were they?"

"Seven hundred."

"Oh, yeah, you'll definitely regret it."

The floors at Sal's left little to be desired, for sure, but the pizza was undeniably the best in town. One bite had Joel forgetting all about the stained laminate flooring.

"Right?" you asked excitedly when his eyebrows raised in surprise.

He only nodded, his mouth full until he swallowed and said, "Didn't think there was any decent pizza out here. Reminds me of New York pizza," before taking another large bite.

You giggled and leaned across the high top table to grab the shaker of parmesan cheese.

"I'll have to take your word for it, I've never been."

"You've never been to New York?" he echoed incredulously, and you shook you head as you took another bite. Joel gave you a fake look of disappointment before saying, "I'll have to take you with me next time."

"Do you go often?" you asked, tucking away the idea of traveling again with Joel for later.

"Yeah, 'sides the hotel out here, New York's my biggest source of revenue."

"For now, right?" you countered. He grinned and wiped the corner of his mouth with a thin paper napkin.

"We're a long ways off from openin' in Fiji, but, yeah, that one's projected to make the most."

You nodded, both falling into a comfortable silence while you finished your food.

"Alright," Joel said after balling up his napkins and tossing them onto his greasy paper plate. "Where're you from?"

You laughed and felt your cheeks warm when you replied, "You already know that."

"It's our first date," he reminded you with an adorable smile. His forearms were crossed and resting on the tabletop. He leaned forward like he was sharing a secret, completely oblivious to the looks he was getting when other customers saw him in his sharp, black suit, completely out of place for the setting.

"Okay, I'll play," you decided, leaning forward to mimic his posture. "I'm from Tennessee."

"And what brought you all the way out here?"

You laughed and said, "College."

"You lose your accent or did you never have one?" he asked.

"Uh, I might've had a small accent when I first moved, but I'm afraid it's long gone now. Not like yours," you pointed out.

When you first met, Joel refused to share anything about himself. You were delighted to find out that had changed.

"Grew up in Texas. Whenever I feel it fadin', I know it's time to go back for a visit," he joked, watching your eyes light up when he freely shared something about himself.

"W-where in Texas?" you stammered. You were still unsure of how much he was willing to share, so you figured you would keep your questions to a minimum. But once again, he shocked you.

"Austin. Parents are still out there somewhere. Little brother, too, pretty sure."

"Oh," you replied softly. You grew nervous at the mention of his brother, remembering how the last time he was brought up didn't go so well, so you chose to leave the topic alone and instead focused on his parents.

"Are you close with your mom and dad?"

Joel shrugged, appearing calm on the outside but he could feel his heart pumping faster and his foot began to tap anxiously. If it weren't for the noisy, sticky floor giving him away, you may not have noticed, but you did.

He was nervous, but he was still trying.

You reached out to gently squeeze his arm, making him smile.

"We don't have to," you whispered. We can go slow, it's okay.

"Not as close as I used to be," he said, ignoring the out you gave and allowing the words to tumble out of him all at once. "Y'know how families are. Stupid fights 'n all that."

You nodded vigorously in agreement. "Same with me. Well, I never got along great with my parents. I was always looking for a reason to leave. I applied to schools as far away from home as possible, then me and my best friend both got into UC and it was a no brainer."

Joel looked relieved when you pulled the focus back onto yourself. His shoulders relaxed a bit and he leaned forward.

"The friend you were tellin' me 'bout?" he asked, letting you fill in the rest of the sentence. The one who called the doctor.

"Celine," you offered, "yeah. We've been friends forever."

On the way back to his car, you told him a story from when you and Celine were in high school. Back when you were underage and dumb and drank too much at a house party to impress a boy and you ended up vomiting into some boxwoods while Celine held your hair back.

"The neighbor boy?" Joel guessed.

"You remembered," you said, sounding impressed. He gave you a knowing look, lips pulling into half a smirk, like he were saying of course I remembered.

"Well, yeah. The very same," you confirmed with a deep breath. You fidgeted with the skirt of your dress, trying to hide the sudden wave of shyness that washed over you. Even though you had history, that night somehow really did feel like a first date.

Joel took your hand when you stepped out of the car and he led you into the movie theater, only letting you go when he needed both hands to pay for your tickets.

"I had my first kiss in a movie theater," Joel said as he stood in line beside you for popcorn. You tilted your head to look at him, excited once again he was sharing something personal about himself.

"What movie was it?"

"Indiana Jones," he replied without hesitation. Then you laughed when he added, "I was so nervous the whole time, barely saw a minute of it. Kept psychin' myself up to make a move and couldn't think 'bout anythin' else."

"I can't imagine you nervous," you teased, then right before the clerk called you up to the counter, you locked eyes.

"You make me nervous all the time."

You blinked, stunned by his sudden vulnerability, and then a second later he was at the counter ordering.

"C'mon, don't wanna miss the beginning," he said as he handed you your drink and motioned towards the theaters, completely unperturbed.

When you picked the movie, you figured a standard action flick would be pretty safe. You steered clear of anything romantic, not wanting to inadvertently draw parallels to your own relationship, and you even avoided horror because you had a tendency to cling to the person you're with out of fear. Yet somehow you still found yourself inching closer to him.

At first, you crossed your legs and your foot grazed his knee. Purely accidental. You even apologized and shifted a bit to create more space. But then you kept leaning on the armrest between you and your head tilted to rest between both seats. You wanted to blame it on the fact that he held the popcorn bucket, but he was kind enough to move it closer so you wouldn't have to reach so far.

Around the halfway point of the movie, his hand found your knee. If you recalled correctly, it was during one of the rare funny parts of the movie and you both had leaned forward to laugh. His hand grabbed you for support and just kind of... stayed there.

After that, you had trouble following the plot.

"Wait... who is he again?" you whispered. Joel's fingers flexed on your knee when he leaned over and you were eternally grateful the dark room hid how flustered it made you.

"The marine? He's the brother from earlier."

"Oh, right," you replied, and you must not have sounded very convincing because he gave you a look and you giggled, slapping your palm over your mouth when the people a couple rows ahead of you turned around.

Joel grinned and remained where he was instead of straightening back up.

A few more minutes went by. You pretended to watch the movie but he was too distracting, being that close. Your gaze kept drifting off the screen and down to his hand, then from his hand up to his face, admiring the way the light from the film played across his perfect side profile.

He felt your eyes on him and he turned his head, still smiling when he asked, "You alright?"

"Mhmm," you hummed with a vigorous nod. Then you found yourself leaning a little closer and his gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes again.

It wasn't your fault. He looked so ridiculous and handsome in his expensive suit eating buttery popcorn in an old movie theater. You simply couldn't help yourself. You both inched forward at the same time and gently pressed your lips together. At first, it was timid and sweet and sent a spark down your spine. It felt so nice to kiss him again after so long and after everything that happened, you easily lost yourself in him.

Too easily.

By the time the credits rolled and the dim lights slowly turned back on, you had both hands buried in his hair and his tongue halfway down your throat. When you realized that people could see you, you hurriedly pulled apart at the exact same time. Joel's hand, which had once been on your knee and had since traveled up the skirt of your dress, gave your thigh a little squeeze before begrudgingly untangling himself from you.

"Maybe we should go," you said, giving him a shy glance after fixing yourself up a bit.

"Yeah, just... gimme a minute," he replied, his eyes rolling to stare at the ceiling as he took a few deep, focused breaths. The theater was almost empty and you were about to ask what was wrong when you noticed the bulge in his pants. Heat flooded your face and you looked away to hide your laughter, but he caught you.

"Oh, you think it's funny?" he asked. He tried to sound serious but he couldn't keep the smile from his face.

"A little," you admitted when you looked back at him. He grinned and finally stood up with a groan, tugging his suit coat closed before reaching for your hand.

"I'll remember that," he warned as he led you down the steps and back out into the lobby.

Once you were settled in his car with Richie driving through the dark, quiet streets back towards your apartment, you turned to Joel and asked, "Better than Indiana Jones?"

"Oh, no contest, baby," he murmured with a sly smile.

You giggled and let his fingers thread through yours on top of the seat. Your cheeks ached from how much you laughed and smiled that night. Admittedly, you had your doubts you would be able to really start over after everything that happened, but things felt so different now. In large part, that had to do with Joel and how much he was trying. He pushed himself to open up to you a little bit, despite his uneasiness, and he had no problem agreeing to a normal first date at the last minute.

He was really trying, and he was doing it for you.

"I got it, Richie," Joel said when the car pulled up to your curb and the driver had moved to unbuckle his belt. He gave Joel a nod in the review mirror and stayed put as Joel swung his door open to step outside. Then his eyes shifted to yours and he smiled.

"Have a good night, honey."

"Thanks, Richie, you too," you said warmly just as Joel opened your door.

He held out his hand and you took it, steadying yourself to stand, and gave him a grateful smile right when he pushed the door shut. Wrapping your arms around the crook of his elbow, he led you up the steps to the front door of your building, only letting you go to search for your keys.

"Well, thank you," you said, sounding a little more breathless than you intended, but Joel seemed to like it because his brown eyes sparkled and his mouth twitched when he heard the desire laced in your voice. "I had a great time."

"Me, too," he murmured as he casually leaned against the doorframe, playfully cocking his head to the side as he sized you up and down. "Y'know, I've never seen your place," he said innocently, but when your jaw dropped in mock offense and you gave his shoulder a gentle push, he threw his head back and laughed.

"Excuse me, I don't put out on the first date," you joked, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

"No, 'course not. Was just pointin' out a fact, is all," Joel replied with a matching grin of his own.

"Oh, is that all?" you echoed, leaning forward and wrapping his tie around your fist, then giving it a gentle tug so he would meet you halfway.

"Yeah," he whispered right before your mouths found each other once again. You could still taste the salt and butter from the popcorn on his lips as he crowded you against the door, both his hands flying up to cup each side of your face, cradling it gently while his lips massaged yours. There was just something about him that always had you melting into a puddle at his feet, and that evening was no exception. You had to tear yourself away with a soft laugh before you broke your rule and invited him upstairs.

"Can we do this again?" he asked as you slid your key into the door. You pushed it open and stepped inside, turning back to face him.

"I would love that."

Joel grinned and promised he would call before you waved goodnight and disappeared into the lobby.

When your elevator opened up on your floor, you hurried to your apartment, exhausted but giddy with excitement at how perfect the date went. You flicked on your lights and locked your door before kicking your heels off and throwing your purse onto the couch, but not before digging out your phone to taken with you as you got changed and ready for bed.

You had just finished brushing your teeth, not ten minutes after he left, when your phone rang. Your heart fluttered in your chest when you saw his name, and you slipped between your bedsheets before answering.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

You could hear the road noise in the background when you asked, "Did you forget something?"

"Nope. Just said I would call."

You laughed and pulled your blankets up around your chin.

"I thought that meant maybe tomorrow."

"Miss you, didn't wanna wait," he answered immediately. You bit your lower lip and even though he couldn't see you, you pressed your palm over your cheeks when you felt them grow hot.

"I miss you, too," you whispered.

After a beat of silence where you were each smiling like fools for no one to see, he spoke again.

"What do you wanna do for our next date?"

"Hmm," you tapped your chin thoughtfully for a moment. "How about you pick the next one since I picked this one? We can take turns."

You heard his deep chuckle on the other end and you grinned.

"I like it. You're on."

You figured Joel would pick something a little fancier than you, but you weren't expecting him to propose a date to the opera for your fourth date. It was a far cry from the shitty little dive bar around the corner that had a really fun trivia night you dragged him to a few days before.

Joel! I don't have anything to wear to the opera!

I kept all your clothes. I'll have Liam drop off some things before EOD.

Before you even had a chance to process the fact Joel had kept everything from your trip to Fiji and what that could possibly mean, your phone pinged with another text.

Told you you should've kept them

You grinned and shook your head.

And I told *you* I don't have the room

When are you gonna let me see this tiny apartment of yours?

You glanced around your living room, the space was cozy but definitely not spacious. It was hard to even imagine Joel there. Would he even like it? He was definitely used to a very different lifestyle than you. You were nervously chewing your nail, lost in thought, when your phone pinged again.

Sorry, not trying to pressure you, that's not what I meant

Shit, you took too long to answer and had him second guessing himself.

I know lol I was just reading an email - sorry

It wasn't entirely untrue. Your laptop sat open on your coffee table, your email program sitting before you.

Any luck on the job front?

No... not yet. Fortunately I have a handsome benefactor paying my rent for the next two months ;)

Your handsome benefactor would really like it if you let him help you find a job, baby

You rolled your eyes and sighed before typing out, don't you have a company to run?

I can do two things at once

You laughed to yourself and leaned back into your couch, staring at your phone longingly.

Since your first date with Joel, you had spoken every single day, approximately two weeks. What surprised you the most was the constant stream of texts he sent you throughout the day. You saw how he was in Fiji, you knew he was busy and had meetings and calls around the clock. How on earth he managed to do both still astounded you.

Because he was really trying, a little voice in the back of your head piped up.

He really did seem like a completely different man from the one you first met. Traces of him were still there: he hadn't yet come clean about his daughter or brother, but every time you saw each other, he made a point of sharing something new about himself. He told you a handful of stories from when he was younger, living in Texas. He told you his brother was a contractor but that was the only thing you knew about him. And that was okay. You wanted him to tell you about himself on his own terms, without feeling pressured, and that was exactly what he was doing.

Well I need to shower and figure out what to do with my hair for tonight. Unfortunately my phone's not waterproof so I guess I'll just see you later?

Looking forward to it - I'll let you know when to expect Liam

Like he promised, Liam arrived around four in the afternoon with an armful of dresses draped over one arm and a bag of shoes in the other.

"Oh, god, here - lemme help you," you said when you saw how much he was carrying from the elevator. He shot you a relieved smile when you grabbed a few things from his arms and helped him inside your apartment. He took one quick glance around and said, "Cute," before laying the dresses out on your couch and unzipping the bags.

"Alright. I brought a few pieces I thought would work best. You're free to do whatever, of course, but I would recommend the Chanel dress with the Valentino shoes."

Your eyes darted around at the items suddenly taking up all of the space in your living room and tried not to look completely out of your depth, but he must have been able to tell because he snatched up both items and handed them to you.

"Oh, thanks," you told him. The Chanel dress was a slinky black number you never had a chance to wear on the island, and the shoes were strappy heels you thought you wore once to a dinner with Zoe.

"Have you seen La Traviata before?" Liam asked. You chuckled and shook your head.

"I've never even been to the opera before."

Liam smiled and clapped his hands together gleefully. "Oh, you'll have such a great time! This is a great one to see. Especially from the box. You'll be able to see everything and won't have to dodge horrible hairdos or top hats."

"B-box? Joel's got box seats?" you stammered. He laughed and began to open a small toiletry bag filled with jewelry.

"Of course he does."

Liam held up a few necklaces before settling on a thin chain of diamonds and setting it aside. He then dug out matching earrings and a bracelet while he asked, "What are you planning to do with your hair?"

You had washed and dried it but otherwise, you hadn't gotten further than that.

"Uh, just wear it down, I guess."

Liam straightened up and gave you a once over. "Want some help?"

Relief flooded your veins and you quickly nodded. "Do you mind?"

He smiled and shook his head before flapping his hands, ushering you towards your bathroom.

"Not at all. Let's see what you're working with."

"Jesus, you look beautiful," Joel murmured for the fourth time since he picked you up. He had one arm wrapped tightly around your middle, pulling you close to his side as you weaved through the lobby of the opera house. You owed it all to Liam. He was a lifesaver. He picked out your outfit and helped curl your hair where you couldn't reach it, keeping you distracted while he told you about his boyfriend's parents and their lavish home in Malibu.

"Thank you," you replied softly, looking him up and down in his sharp, black tuxedo before reminding him how good he looked, too.

"You wanna get a drink before it starts? We got 'bout ten minutes," he said, looking quickly at his watch before catching your eye.

"Uh, no, thanks. I'm good," you replied, looking past him to admire the ornate architecture. "Do you come to the opera often?"

"Not as much as I like," he told you while leading you towards a flight of carpeted stairs in the corner of the room. "Don't usually have many dates," he added with a little smirk. You smiled back, heart fluttering a little in your chest at how relaxed and happy he seemed.

He had been so good about opening up lately, you decided to test the waters and see how he would react.

"When was your last relationship?"

He faltered for just a quick moment when he reached out to pull back the red velvet curtain that led to your box seats, but he recovered nicely.

"You mean a real relationship?" he asked, and you nodded. He pulled out your chair and you swept the skirt of your dress underneath you before sitting down and thanking him.

"Well, that woulda been with Sarah's mom."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you twisted in your seat to look at him. He was fixing his suit coat, looking down as his fingers nervously fidgeted with the buttons while he spoke.

"Was a long time ago. Sarah's fifteen now," he added, clearing his throat before locking eyes with you.

You swallowed and nodded before forcing yourself to reply, trying not to look too eager to hear more.

"That's a long time."

"Explains why I'm so rusty," he joked, cracking a little smile which you quickly reciprocated.

"You're not as rusty as you think," you teased. "I've been having a really great time the past couple weeks."

His smile softened and he instinctively found your hand, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles.

"Me, too," he murmured, dark eyes sparkling in the dim lighting from the chandeliers hanging over the auditorium.

His hand rarely left yours the entire three hours. The brief moments where the audience was expected to clap were the only exception, and then his hand immediately fell to yours once again. There was something so sweet and tender about the gesture, it made your chest squeeze and had you wishing you could curl into his side and wrap yourself around him.

What was wonderful was he didn't expect anything from you in these two short weeks, but then again, he never really did. Not in the way you were thinking, anyway. But that particular evening, you couldn't stop yourself from thinking about it. It might have been the heart-wrenchingly beautiful arias, or his thick fingers laced between yours, or how fucking good he looked in his tux, but whatever it was, it was driving you crazy. During the final hour of the performance, you were trying not to squirm in your seat too much and distract him because it truly was a beautiful opera, and you enjoyed it much more than you expected, but your close proximity and constant contact had your body reacting in ways that were not appropriate for the setting.

Even in the car on the way back to your apartment, you struggled to carry on a simple fucking conversation with him, allowing Joel to do most of the talking as he described his favorite parts while your eyes subtly darted between him and Richie, wishing more than ever that Joel would use that goddamn partition you knew the car had but he never seemed to utilize.

The three dates you've had before all ended the same way. Richie had figured out by now that Joel preferred to open your door himself, so he remained seated after giving you a quick good night over his shoulder while Joel slid out of the car to walk you up. He would kiss you, tell you what a fun time he had, maybe offer up a suggestion for your next date and probably give you a flirty little joke or comment before kissing you one last time with the promise to call.

This time, you only let him get to the first kiss before you whispered against his lips, "Do you want to come up and finally see my apartment?"

He pulled back like he had been electrocuted and you stifled a giggle at the serious look on his face. You could practically see the gears in his head turning as he tried to formulate a response.

"Or, you know, you could see it another time if you're tired," you added, hiding your smirk when you turned to unlock your front door.

"N-no, that's - y'sure?" he asked from over your shoulder. You pushed open the door and took one step inside before turning back around. Dragging your gaze up and down his body, you looked him dead in the eye when you said, "Absolutely."

Joel waved Richie off when you turned to drag him into your building, praying the ancient elevator wouldn't take forever like it normally did. You were in luck: it opened right away for once, and you quickly stepped inside before repeatedly jabbing the button for your floor. Joel chuckled behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist when the doors closed.

"That excited to show me your place, hm?" he murmured, his lips brushing over your bare shoulder. You leaned back into his chest, head lolling to the side and eyelids fluttering when his prickly mustache tickled your neck.

"Mhmm," you hummed, then bravely added, "especially my bedroom."

He groaned and gently bit at the skin behind your ear, teeth grazing over a tender spot, making you shudder.

"C'mon," you muttered once the doors slid open, grabbing his hand and hauling him down the hall towards your apartment. When you turned the corner, your eyes widened in surprise when you almost ran into your neighbor.

"Oh! Mrs. Adams! Hi... s-sorry," you stammered at the elderly woman wrapped in her robe with her tiny white dog cradled in her arms.

"Ma'am," Joel said with a friendly nod.

She said your name in greeting, then gave Joel a suspicious look over her shoulder before disappearing inside your abandoned elevator. You giggled and knocked your door open with your hip, pulling him inside and locking the door while flicking on your lights.

With one hand on your lower back, he looked around your meager apartment, standing in the middle of your living room slash kitchen in his tuxedo looking more out of place than you could have ever imagined, but it didn't bother you. Turned out, you liked seeing him in your space. You wanted to have memories of him sitting on your couch or eating at your table or taking a shower in your bathroom.

"I like it," he said, eyes still darting around to take in every little thing. Then he spotted some framed photographs on your entertainment center and he took a step forward.

"Can we look at those later?" you asked, tugging him back. He grinned and nodded before cupping your jaw and placing a tender kiss against your lips.

"You got somethin' else in mind?" he teased, but you just nodded earnestly and began to tug at his tie. He chuckled and watched you yank it from around his neck, dropping it on your floor before beginning to undo his buttons.

His hands fell to your sides, running up and down and plucking at the slinky fabric of your dress while you undid half the buttons of his crisp white shirt. Pleased to find he wasn't wearing an undershirt, you lunged forward and started to leave a trail of wet kisses leading from the center of his chest all the way up to the corner of his mouth.

"Missed you," he breathed, letting his eyes fall closed while you worked on sucking a bruise into his neck. Your fingers worked faster now, tugging the shirt from his dress pants and fumbling with the remaining buttons.

"Me, too," you whispered, lips still nipping at his skin, tongue darting out to press against his pulse. His shirt finally fell open and your nails lightly dragged down his chest when you added, "Need you. Please, Joel... kiss me."

You didn't need to ask twice.

His mouth collided with yours, all messy and urgent, and he began to walk you backwards towards the open door of your bedroom. He deftly worked the zipper on the back of your dress, pulling it down as he walked, mouth still seared across yours.

When you stepped through the threshold, your heels transitioning from hardwood to carpet, you blindly flung a hand out and flicked a light switch. In the corner of your room, a floor lamp turned on, casting you both in a soft glow when Joel finally pushed you down onto your bed.

His eyes, dark and filled with desire, dragged up and down your body while he unbuttoned his cuffs and shrugged off his shirt. Your dress was unzipped but still hung from your shoulders as you watched him slowly work his belt with bated breath.

"I like your room," he told you, tone casual like he wasn't taking off his pants and palming his cock through his boxers.

"Thanks," you laughed as you began to squirm out of your dress. He grinned and grabbed a heel in each hand before sliding them off and tossing them into a corner. "I can't imagine the kind of bedroom you have. Probably as big as the entire floor of this building."

"You'll have to come over and see," Joel said, eyes glued to your dress when it slid to the floor. He knelt on the edge of your mattress, old bed squeaking under his weight, then fell forward to hover above you.

He traced a finger along your jaw, mesmerized for a moment as he admired you up close. When he heard your breathing stutter under the scrutiny, his gaze flickered up to yours and he pinched your chin.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "For everythin'. For every time I pushed you away 'n every time I made you cry."

The sudden shift in mood stunned you for a second and he took the opportunity to press his lips firmly against yours, tethering you together for just a moment before pulling away.

"Thank you for givin' me another chance," he whispered, closing his eyes and nudging his nose gently against yours. "I won't fuck this up again, baby, I promise."

"You better fucking not," you sniffled, then wrapped your arms loosely around his neck to pull him into another deep kiss so he wouldn't see your eyes grow watery.

"There's my girl," he chuckled at your sass when he broke away to pepper kisses along your jaw. My girl. Hearing those words shot a bolt of arousal through you and your hips began to subtly rock upwards, seeking out some friction to soothe the ache between your legs.

"Want me to take care of you?" he murmured into your skin. "Want me to make you feel good, baby?"

"Yeah," you whined, hips bucking upwards to chase his hand that dropped between your thighs, fingers teasing at your seam through your soaked panties. Then he hooked the fabric to the side, his mouth finding yours right when he slid two thick fingers inside you, swallowing down your gasp and groaning at the sharp bite of pain from your nails digging into his shoulders.

"Shit," you whispered when he began to plunge them in and out, curling and flexing his fingers inside your wet walls, soaked from the arousal building since you first saw him in his tuxedo when he picked you up.

Joel hummed, relishing in the familiar feel around him and trying to hold himself back from pulling his hand out from between your legs so he could bury his cock deep inside you, instead.

But he refused to be selfish. He said he wanted to take care of you, and he meant it. He meant it in every imaginable way.

All he wanted was you.

"So beautiful, y'know that?" he mumbled, mouth dragging over your jaw, teeth lightly nipping at your chin. "So warm 'n perfect, missed havin' you like this," he continued, lips twitching when he saw your eyes squeeze shut and mouth fall open when his fingertips brushed against that spot that had you reduced to a mumbling mess underneath him.

Joel could sense he had you right on the edge. He heard it in the way your breath came in staggered gasps and could feel it in the way your legs began to quake. He picked up the pace, breath puffing hot and fast from his nose, eyes locked on your face, eager to watch you fall apart for him after what felt like an eternity without you.

Then his face broke out into a cocky grin when the heel of his palm started to slap against your clit with each snap of his wrist. The noises you made for him were like music to his ears, a symphony of his name and more and don't stop and a litany of curses.

"Gonna come for me, darlin'? Gonna come 'n let me fuck this perfect little pussy?" he growled while biting gently at your earlobe. You whined and tipped your head back, pushing deep into your pillow as the pleasure mounted low in your belly, burning bright when it finally spilled over with a pathetic hoarse whimper. Joel groaned when your nails dragged down unexpectedly hard, leaving angry red trails over the skin of his back. Marks he would catch in the mirror on Monday and grin proudly at his reflection after he stepped out of his shower.

"Fuck, Joel," you panted, eyes fluttering open to gaze up at him. You looked so beautiful like that. All fucked out, hair a mess, skin hot, lips swollen. He dove down and pulled your lower lip between his teeth, gently tugging before letting it go and slipping his tongue into your eager mouth. His fingers had slowed to a stop inside you, but he could still feel your cunt pulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm. It was a feeling he was very familiar with. A feeling he craved and now that he had it again, feared he may go insane if he didn't feel it around his painfully hard cock very soon.

As if you read his mind, you dragged your mouth away from his to whisper in his ear, "Fuck me, Joel," and he swore the edges of his vision blurred from just your request alone.

A high pitched moan slipped past your lips when he pulled his fingers out from between your legs. You rolled your head to the side, the sudden emptiness causing you to writhe in discomfort, but you wouldn't have to wait very long.

He reached around to unhook your strapless bra and tossed it onto your floor, like he was mad at it for keeping you from him. Then he made short work of your underwear, which you looked relieved to finally be rid of, before pulling down his boxers and freeing his throbbing cock. He caught your gaze drop and your teeth sunk into your lower lip before sitting up.

"I wanna suck it," you announced, but when you began to lean down, he grabbed your shoulders and hauled you up.

"Not tonight," he told you, and you whined a little as you reached down to stroke him. He groaned and tipped his head back, hips thrusting into your fist on their own accord.

"Please," you pleaded, lips puckering around his adam's apple. And you almost got him. He could hardly resist when you begged, especially with the promise of your warm, soft mouth wrapped around his cock, but he knew he wouldn't last long if he let you.

"Lemme fuck you, baby," he murmured when he gave you a gentle push. You flopped back onto your bed with a playful scowl, tits bouncing a little from the impact when he suddenly reached down to the floor to grab his pants. He pulled out a little foil wrapper and you frowned.

"We don't have to-"

"Just bein' extra careful, alright?" he told you, cutting you off as he rolled the condom on.

"I have an implant now. It won't be a problem like last time," you insisted, but he already tossed the wrapper to the ground and fell onto his elbows, hovering above you.

"Humor me," he said with a little smirk right before his hips pushed your thighs apart, wasting no time lining himself up with your entrance.

Normally, he would go slow. Normally, he would take his time and feed you his cock inch by inch, but on that particular evening, he was too desperate. With one deep grunt and rough thrust, he sheathed himself inside you in one go, making your jaw drop and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"Sorry," he gasped, forehead falling to your shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut, the sensation of your pussy gripping him so perfectly sending him reeling. "Sorry," he repeated as the both of you struggled for air, "I didn't mean, I - fuck -" his hips began to move just a little bit and he whimpered when your fingers drifted up to get tangled in his hair.

"It's okay, keep going," you encouraged him, taking a deep breath and forcing your muscles to relax.

"Don't wanna hurt you but, fuck baby, I want you so goddamn bad."

"I know, it's okay, it doesn't hurt," you told him truthfully. His mouth was open, pressed against your chest with his exhale fanning across your skin, making you shiver. You wrapped your legs around his waist and tilted your hips with a gasp. "God, you're so deep," you moaned, nails scraping his scalp when he began to move a little more steadily.

"I know, baby, I know," he murmured, voice sounding strained. It was all too much and, somehow, not enough. You clung to him when his hips began to snap against you, jostling your entire body with each earth-shattering thrust. His groans and your whimpers getting lost in each others mouths. Tears stung your eyes when he whispered, "Think 'bout you all the time. Never stop thinkin' 'bout you." And he growled when you admitted the same.

Your shitty little bed frame screamed underneath you the more desperate Joel became, no doubt grabbing the attention of Mrs. Adams across the hall. His hands never stopped moving. They cupped your breast, the back of your neck, your ass, and then his fingers hooked under your knee, pulling your leg to open up your hips.

Your eyes flew open and you cried out at the intense angle, his cock splitting you in two but his kiss put you right back together again. One of his hands fell to grab your hip, his other arm bracing himself next to your head and it felt utterly overwhelming, being completely consumed by him, that you wanted to do the same. You tugged at his hair, nipped at his throat, wrapped your other leg even tighter around his middle.

If he was going to destroy you, you wanted to give it right back.

He appeared to enjoy it. He groaned and his lips curled into a smile when you tried to take a piece of him. It made him slam his hips into your harder, had him plunging his tongue into your mouth with an urgency that sent your back arching off the bed, pressing your bare chest against his.

"You like that?" he mumbled into your mouth, lips barely leaving yours to speak. "You like when I fuck you like this?"

"So - good -" you moaned, each word bookended by a snap of his hips.

"You like gettin' me all worked up? Like drivin' me fuckin' crazy?"

"Yeah, actually, I do," you breathed, smirking at the sound of his words passing through gritted teeth. His chin dropped and his teeth grazed your nipple a little harsher than you expected and you yelped, which melted into a giggle when you felt him smile against your skin.

You pulled your lower lip between your teeth and, with your lips still curved into a smile, reached down to grab his ass, giving it a firm squeeze while making sure to add a little pinch from your nails. It made him grunt, his hips changing their pace. What was rough, strong thrusts of his hips now faltered to deep strokes which he made sure to drive upwards so he could reach that spot inside you he knew would have you screaming his name.

"Oh, fuck!" you cried out, and he chuckled darkly against your throat. "Fuck! Joel... keep - going," you gasped. Your hands were back to clawing at his shoulders while he drove into you over and over. His forehead prickled with sweat and he could feel his curls beginning to stick to his skin but he refused to let up because you were so close. Your slick walls were clenching around him, making him see stars, while you repeatedly whined his name. He smirked to himself, pleased he got exactly what he wanted. Your voice was already hoarse and he could only imagine what it would sound like in the morning, all raw and thick with sleep.

"You gonna come f'me, baby?" he asked, voice deep and gravelly in your ear. You nodded, mouth still hung open in a silent scream. "Then do it. C'mon, wanna feel you," he coaxed. "Wanna feel your tight little pussy milk this cock. Go on, lemme have it."

The ball of tension growing hotter and brighter at the base of your spine finally broke. Your back arched up again and your head flew back into the pillows as your orgasm rolled through your entire body, his name reduced to just a mere whimper on your lips, unable to give anything else. Your muscles weakened and you collapsed back into the bedding, your brain in a fog. Meanwhile, Joel reared back and dragged your hips onto his lap, pounding steadily into your used cunt, all frantic and delirious in his movements until he slammed into you one final time with a deep, prolonged groan.

Your eyes slid closed, but his mouth was back on yours in an instant. Soft, tender kisses pressed shakily against your lips, silence filling the room except for the quiet sound of your combined heavy breathing and your bed springs occasionally squealing when Joel shifted his weight.

"You good?" he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours with a deep breath. You nodded then winced when he withdrew his softening cock from between your legs. He propped himself up on his elbows and gazed down at you, searching your face very seriously for a moment. You opened your mouth to ask but the words died in your throat. Instead, you let him study you. Your eyes landed on the little wrinkles developing next to his eyes, the cute pout he made when he was deep in thought, the way his hair stood like a halo after your fingers pulled and tugged, rearranging the product that was combed through.

He kept looking at you, something happening behind his eyes, something meaningful. But just when you thought you were on the cusp of something, he blinked and cleared his throat, pushing himself upright.

"Lemme go clean up real quick," he said, glancing out into the hallway.

"Okay," you said quietly, watching as he sauntered naked through your room and disappeared into the bathroom. You could hear the sink running, then a minute later, the toilet flushing, and you suddenly felt cold. You reached for your blankets and slid underneath, and right when your mind was about to get carried away with self-doubt and too many questions, the door flung open and he stepped out with a determined look.

"I almost married Sarah's mom."

You sat up in bed, clutching the sheets to your chest with wide eyes. He was standing in your doorway, still naked except the condom was gone. His fingers fidgeted nervously at his sides and the romantic side of you found it poetic that he was fully naked and about to reveal something so personal, but you couldn't focus much on that.

"Why didn't you?"

Joel blinked.

"I thought I loved her, but I think it was just 'cause she was havin' my baby," he began. "I was thirty, just startin' to make a name for myself, made a huge fuckin' mistake and, I dunno, felt like I had to do the right thing."

"Thirty," you repeated, and he nodded. "Didn't you say that was when you built The Parador?"

He nodded again and finally moved from his spot in the doorway to join you on the bed.

"I was naive. I met her at this networkin' event with a bunch of other guys in the hospitality industry. She was just at the bar, all alone, wasn't even part of the event or a worker or nothin'. Shoulda been my first clue, but I was young and stupid."

"What do you mean?"

He pulled the blankets over his waist and leaned up against your headboard.

"I didn't know it, but she was goin' fishin' that night."

You tilted your head to the side, confusion written all over your face.

"She was lookin' to sink her claws into someone with money. She knew everyone at that event was somebody, so she cast her line and reeled one in."

Slowly, you began to connect the dots.

"She... she was using you for your money?"

Joel swallowed and nodded, his eyes darting around your face nervously.

"Did - you said the pregnancy was a mistake-"

"I don't know if she planned it, but it sure as hell felt that way after I found everythin' out. She was expectin' me to propose, thought she'd be set for life if she had my kid. Heard her on the phone one night with a friend who was doin' the same thing to someone else. Same night I came home early to surprise her after we found out we were havin' a girl."

"Oh, my god," you whispered in disbelief.

"It was wrong, I know it, but I was so fuckin' hurt," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I kicked her out. I know it wasn't Sarah's fault and I tried, I really fuckin' tried, but every time I saw her-" he pressed his lips into a thin line and dropped his gaze to the sheets. "Just reminded me of everythin', and I couldn't handle it."

"So... you don't have a relationship with her? Or with Sarah?" you asked. He shook his head but he kept his eyes shamefully fixed on his hands.

Suddenly, everything made sense. Joel's concern with Glenn and his emphasis on family, Tammy's vague insinuation on the yacht, Joel's inability to trust you, his resistance to opening up. It was all because he was afraid of being used again.

The fact he had never been in love sounded more like he had never allowed himself to fall in love.

But he was trusting you now. Something that was clearly very difficult for him to do while he sat in fear of judgement.

You scooted forward on the bed and tucked yourself into his side. You wrapped your arms around his middle and rested your chin on his chest, curling yourself around him, trying to make him feel safe. His heart fluttered anxiously under his skin, you could feel it, but he slowly picked up his own arms and coiled them around you protectively.

"I'm sorry, Joel."

"What- what're you sorry for?"

"For everything you went through. I'm sorry she broke your heart. I'm sorry you suffered for so long with this burden. I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell me before, but I promise you, I'm not judging you."

"I know," he replied, kissing the top of your head. You took another deep breath before speaking again.

"And I'm not after you for your money. I can understand now why you -"

"Sweetheart, I know," he said, cutting you off.

You frowned and looked up at him. "You do?"

He grinned and nudged his nose gently against yours.

"Yeah. Probably the only goddamn sugar baby in the world who didn't want money, so... yeah. I know."

You giggled and pulled away from his grip so you could look him in the eye.

"I mean, it's kind of ironic... you seeking out a woman to pay to be with you? Why would you-"

"'Cause I woulda rather had all our cards on the table and know up front it was just a business deal," he explained. "Didn't need someone sneakin' 'round behind my back tryin' to take advantage of me. Rather know from jump."

You felt your chest tighten a little at that, and you couldn't stop yourself from leaning forward, giving him a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. He pulled you over to straddle his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist, gazing up at you with stars in his eyes.

"But you wanted everythin' else except my money," he murmured. You shifted your eyes to the left and began to play with a curl above his ear, suddenly growing shy under his scrutiny. But he kept going.

"Always had a feelin', but didn't wanna believe it. Couldn't believe it, I suppose," he added, watching your eyes carefully as you continued to focus on his hair. "You never cared 'bout doin' anythin' extravagant on the island. Wanted to spend time with me at the beach, wanted to get food from a stand at the corner with our goddamn faces painted," he chuckled. You grinned and felt your cheeks grow hot.

"Then you left those envelopes," he said, and your eyes finally found his again. He let a heavy moment pass between you as you stared down at him. "Never even opened 'em. Gave you that first one the first night we were there. And you didn't open it."

You shook your head and a slow smile stretched across his face.

"Then with the hell you gave me and the bank 'bout the payment after we got back," he groaned, tilting his face to the ceiling like he was in agony.

"Fifty thousand was too fucking much!" you practically shouted, but he just laughed and pulled you closer.

"You actually fuckin' like me," he said in wonder. "Why would someone like you want anythin' to do with someone like me?"

You threw your head back and laughed, immediately recognizing your own words being parroted back to you.

"Because," you replied once your laughter waned, "you're a good man, despite what you may think. You care and you're sweet and you make me feel safe. You make me feel good about myself. You pay attention to things that mean something to me. You - I -" you cut yourself off with a quick shake of your head. "Yeah... I actually fucking like you," you finished with a slow smile.

He grinned and cupped the back of your neck, but before pulling you down for a kiss, he whispered, "How'd I get so lucky?"

The next morning, you awoke to an empty bed. If it weren't for the incessant ache between your legs and the soreness of your throat, you would have wondered if it was all a dream. You reached for the other side of the bed and felt the sheets cool under your fingertips.

It was Saturday. You didn't think he would have worked that day, but then again, it was Joel, so maybe he did. But would he really leave without saying goodbye? After you were so raw and vulnerable with each other the night before?

That was when you heard it. Faint humming and music turned on low coming from your kitchen.

Oh, now this you had to see.

When you rolled out of bed, you almost reached for your pajamas, but then you spotted his shirt neatly draped over your desk chair and you couldn't resist. You picked it up and slid your arms through, rumpling the fabric underneath your chin and taking a deep breath. It still smelled just like him. A mixture of deodorant, soap, cologne and hair products. A unique scent that was quickly becoming a favorite of yours.

You stepped out of your bedroom and peered into your kitchen, a smile pulling at your lips when you saw him pouring coffee for you both, wearing only his boxers with the sweet sounds of 80s ballads filling the air. You crossed your arms and leaned against the wall, gaze slowly gliding over the strong, broad muscles of his back until he turned around and froze.

"Was gonna make you somethin' to eat and then I remembered... I don't know how to cook."

You burst out laughing and Joel grinned when he handed you your coffee.

"But you figured out the coffee machine," you said, taking a tentative sip and giving him an impressed look.

"That thing's a piece of shit, I'm buyin' you a new one," he scolded.

You dropped your jaw and frowned.

"No, you will not. It's not in its prime, sure, but it makes the best coffee."

Joel chuckled and wrapped the hand not holding his coffee around your ribs. Taking a step forward and dropping his chin had him towering over you seductively.

"Y'look real good in my clothes," he murmured, lips brushing against your forehead with a low hum.

"Couldn't help myself," you admitted softly, "smells just like you."

He pulled back a bit to give you half a smile. "You like smellin' like me?"

"Mhmm," you said under your breath, then nuzzled your nose into his bare chest and took a deep breath. "But now you smell like me."

Joel groaned and dipped his head lower, slotting his lips hungrily against yours. When his tongue slipped past your lips, you giggled and pulled away.

"I need some coffee first," you teased. He just smirked while his fingertips rubbed his bottom lip, like he were chasing the ghost of your kiss. His soft brown eyes were glimmering, so happy and content in your little living room slash kitchen. His cheeks were slightly pink and you weren't sure you'd ever seen him smile so much before.

While you sipped your coffee, you began to crack some eggs in a frying pan while simultaneously tossing some bread in the toaster. Meanwhile, Joel was nosing curiously around your apartment, inspecting little trinkets that he didn't have the chance to look at the night before.

"Snowglobe from Disney?" Joel asked, holding it up from across the room. You looked over your shoulder with a grin.

"My aunt and uncle are obsessed with Disney. They get me Disney themed shit every year for Christmas."

Joel hummed and placed it down gently on the windowsill before spotting a vase filled with sand and seashells. He smiled as he approached, too worried he would break it to pick it up when he asked, "When'd you steal sand?"

He heard you laugh and he turned back around.

"The day we were at the beach together. I had a ziploc for my sunscreen so, you know," you said with a shrug while you flipped the eggs. Joel gave the vase one more look, smiling to himself when he saw the new pink seashells scattered throughout.

"Where are you gonna hang the painting?" he asked when he saw it leaning up against the wall next to your television.

"I don't know yet. Maybe next to the door. Or maybe behind the couch," you answered, focusing on buttering the toast and turning off the gas before the eggs burned. You jumped when you suddenly felt his hands sliding around your waist.

"Supposed to go above the bed," he reminded you. Tilting your head to look at him over your shoulder, you grinned.

"You remember everything, don't you?"

"Sure do," he replied, giving your ass a playful smack before picking up both plates of food. "Where do you wanna eat?"

You both sunk into your old couch and balanced your plates on your knees, shoveling in forkfuls of food in between explaining the story behind every little thing that caught his eye.

Then he spotted your picture frames again. He leaned forward to put his empty plate on your coffee table and stood, his hulking, mostly-still-naked frame captivating you for a moment as he picked up a photo to study it.

"Your folks?" he asked, tilting the frame towards you. You squinted and nodded from the couch. "Any siblings?"

The question came out soft as he angled it back towards him.

"Nope. Just me. I've always wanted a sister but Celine was a pretty good substitute," you smiled as he picked up a photo of you and Celine on New Years Eve.

"'S'nice," he murmured thoughtfully, taking one last look at the photo before putting it back. He pretended to study a photo of you and your grandparents from your graduation when he added, "Probably best you got to pick. My brother's been a pain in the ass since I was old enough to ride a bike."

You perked up at the mention of his brother, folding your legs underneath you and setting your plate down next to his.

"Yeah?"

"Mhmm," he hummed, still staring down at the picture. "Always usin' my shit and breakin' it. Buttin' in with me 'n my friends to do somethin' stupid. Got me in trouble more times than I can count with our Mama," he mused. He finally set the picture down and turned to look at you. "Then he got older. The fuck ups got more serious. Bailin' him outta jail every other weekend. Got a DUI one summer and had me haulin' his ass all over town."

Your eyebrows raised in surprise but you remained silent, just nodding your head and giving him your full attention, too afraid to spook him with any questions just yet.

"Then we grew up. I moved out here, six months later he follows, 'course," he said, sounded exasperated when he plopped down on the couch next to you. "Got a job at a hotel, 'fore you know it he's beggin' me for a job. Got 'em one workin' as a dishwasher in the restaurant inside the hotel but he fucked that up before I could blink an eye."

Before he even finished the story, you could sense where it was going.

"Finally, he finds his own way. Gets in with a construction company. And he did pretty good, too. I had my thing goin' on at the hotel. Learnin' from the manager 'n all that. By the time I was ready to renovate my first hotel, Tommy'd ended up owning his own company. It was small, but, hell... it was the best he ever got."

You chewed your lower lip anxiously, watching as his eyes slid over to your dusty television, staring at it blankly before he continued.

"So, I hired him. Hired his company to renovate part of the hotel. He even cut me a deal. Thought for once he'd finally pulled his head outta his ass and made somethin' of himself."

Joel fell silent for a few minutes, lost in thought while his fingers fidgeted nervously in his lap.

"Then what happened?" you whispered, worried if you had spoken any louder, it would have snapped him out of it and he would clam back up.

"Then... his company went under. He wasn't doin' shit by the book. Got caught payin' guys under the table and fuckin' up his taxes. And he had to start over."

You connected the dots even before he said, "He came to me lookin' for a loan. Lookin' to fix all his goddamn mistakes, like nothin' ever changed. And... I said no."

"And he never forgave you," you guessed. His eyes found yours and he nodded.

"Yeah. Never forgave me. Said I was turnin' my back on blood. Said he woulda done the same for me. But I just had fuckin' enough. I worked hard to get what I had. So, I refused and he had to move back to Texas. Last I heard he got a loan from our Pop and started a business down there."

You sat in silence for a moment, letting his story sink in with the only noise coming from horns blaring on the street below and your next door neighbor shouting at her husband to wake up for work.

"So... that's the brother story, huh?" you finally said, the corner of your mouth lifting when he met your eye and nodded. You shrugged and scooted closer to him on the couch. "That's not so bad. I understand why you did what you did."

"Had the whole situation goin' on with Sarah's mom at the time, too, but 'course he had no idea. Felt like he never asked me much 'bout my life unless he needed somethin'," he said solemnly.

You snuggled in close and lifted his arm to drape over your shoulders.

"It's never too late, you know," you told him softly. His thumb began to trace invisible circles over your shoulder.

"For what?"

"To make peace. With both of them," you replied. "If you wanted to, anyway. And if you ask me, it sounds like you want to."

"Oh, yeah? And how d'you know that?" Joel teased, pinching your arm and making you giggle.

"Because," you said, tilting your chin to look at him. "If you didn't want to, you wouldn't care so much. You wouldn't have kept all this a secret and you wouldn't think you're a bad person. But what do I know?" you said with a sigh before resting your head against his chest. "I'm just the sugar baby."

Joel's loud laugh echoed throughout your tiny apartment. You grinned when he grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap to face him, dark eyes sparkling as he gazed up at you.

"You ain't a sugar baby, and you know it."

"Then what am I?"

He cupped the back of your neck and brought your lips down to meet his in a gentle kiss.

"You're the woman I'm fallin' in love with," he whispered, voice trembling a little. You locked eyes, the surprise and excitement coursing through your veins causing you to smile so wide that it hurt.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he replied with a smile of his own. "Real goddamn inconvenient," he added, making you giggle and press another kiss against his mouth.

"Told you," you said breathlessly. "But we can take things slow, seeing as you're a newbie and all." Joel scoffed and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

The dam had finally broke. All the secrets and lies were revealed. For better or worse, you both put your hearts in each others hands and trusted that the other would keep it safe.

As if reading your mind, Joel's hand dropped to your chest. He flattened his palm over your rapidly beating heart while you played with the curls on the nape of his neck.

"This is real," he stated softly, voice a little thicker than before. He had a look on his face like he couldn't believe it, and you smiled.

"Yeah, it's real."

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel x reader #joel x you #joel miller au #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us au #swept away fic

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stargirlsmooch · 23 days ago

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OMG I SAW THAT YOU ARE TAKING REQUEST FOR VI??? Okay so hear me out… pornstar!vi that’s roommate with sweet!’i don’t even know I’m bi’!reader!! Like… the criss that reader would go through once she watches on of vi’s video 👀😩

voila... I give you pornstar!vi catching you masturbating! 18+

pornstar!vi x fem!reader

----

You just couldn’t find what you were looking for. It felt like you had scrolled past every video imaginable, all of them filled with attractive guys that you knew should be pushing your buttons. But when you opened up an old tried-and-true softcore clip of a girl riding a man with significant muscles, just the sound of him taking a breath made you cringe.

You thought that maybe you were just going through a phase, it’s happened before; getting repulsed by any thought or sound or sight of sex. But this felt different- you were still yearning to be fucked and filled.

It was only as you were scrolling further and further that you realised the videos started to shift- a few 2-girls-1-guy threesomes eventually opened up to girls kissing, scissoring and getting off together, and finally you found a video of a leanly muscular woman with a fake cock strapped between her hips ploughing into a sopping wet pussy.

From the thumbnail, you could only see her small pert breasts and her sweetly defined abs. You tried to ignore the way looking at her nipples made your own pucker and your panties significantly wetter as you rubbed your thighs together.

You scrolled past. You’d never been attracted to another woman in your life. You’d never seen the appeal of watching lesbian sex. You definitely weren’t interested in feeling the perfect softness of another woman writhing against you, sliding your fingers into her warm soaking pussy and tasting how sweet she was.

You scrolled back up and pressed play without giving yourself time to consider it. Immediately, the soft moans of the two girls filled your headphones, and you felt yourself sink further into your mattress. The camera focussed on the thick pink cock splitting open a perfect pussy, sliding in and out slowly, as the girl getting fucked played with her nipples.

The camera cut to a wider angle that showed both girls, their faces, and their position. One was on her back, her legs held behind the knees by the strong hands of the other, spreading them wide. The other girl knelt on the bed, her hips grinding into the pussy, their thighs and hips meeting harshly.

It was a few seconds before you noticed the intricate back tattoo and the pink hair. The fingers that had found their way into your wet pussy halted, the dots connecting slowly. And once they had, your fingers started back up again, rocking in and out of you harder, hitting that spot that made you whimper.

With your head thrown back in pleasure, you failed to see the shadows under your bedroom door shifting, or hear the gentle knock. Vi knocked a second time, before pressing her ear to your door, wondering if you were even home, until she heard the soft mewls and that lewd wet sound of your fingers filling your pussy.

“Fuck.” Vi dragged her hand down her face, smirking. Then she knocked again, harder, and finally she heard your voice telling her to wait a second, punctuated by some rustling of your sheets, before yelling for her to come in.

You had managed to quickly sit up against your headboard, rip your headphones off your head and shift your pyjama shorts back into an appropriate position.

By the cheeky smile on her face, you could tell Vi had heard what you’d been doing, and a pinkness filled your cheeks as a result. You smiled through the embarrassment as your roommate wandered inside and sat on the edge of your bed, “do you have any moisturiser I could borrow? I ran out.”

“Sure,” you answered, shuffling off your bed quickly, dropping your unlocked phone on the duvet screen-side up like an idiot. Violet’s gaze caught on it, the image of herself fucking making her do a double take, before she picked it up and laughed.

“Really, cupcake?” The sweet nickname she used for you falling out of her mouth on a chuckle, “I didn’t even know you were into girls.”

Moisturiser in hand, you stood in the doorway to your bathroom, “what?”

Vi waved your phone at you briefly before looking back down and watching herself roughly plunging her strap into her scene-partner. Your smile vanished as the blush on your cheeks deepened, “I’m not.”

“Oh yeah?” Violet laughed, still admiring her work.

You ran over and swiped your phone out of her hand, locked it and threw it back onto your bed. “Seriously, I’m not,” you said with less indignation than you would have hoped.

Violet’s tongue licked over her bottom lip as she looked up at you, her gaze tracking all the way from your thighs, to your nipples still poking through your tank top, to your eyes that had snagged on her mouth.

“You’re not doing a very good job of convincing me,” she said, her hands reaching forward and gently grabbing the backs of your thighs so as to not spook you. Her fingers skirted over your skin until she met the fabric of your shorts, latching onto them, tugging them down.

Vi moved slowly, giving you plenty of opportunities to stop her, but you never did, even as your pyjamas hit the floor and your pussy was exposed to her. In fact, as her lips met your hips with soft kisses, you signed quietly and tipped your head back, and your hands clutched her shoulders.

“Look at you. You’re so wet, cupcake.” One of her hands moved from holding onto your hips, stroking your tummy gently, before her thumb dipped in between your thighs and was drawing loose circles over your clit.

“Vi, oh my god,” the moan ripped out of your throat, and your nails dug into Vi’s shoulders as the wetness of your pussy doubled, leaking down your thighs. You looked down at her hand on you, watching as her fingers shifted so she was tracing one up and down your soaked slit.

“Do you want my fingers, baby?” Vi smiled up at you as her other hand trailed up your chest under your shirt until your breasts were on display for her, “hold this.”

You answered her question and her demand with an enthusiastic nod, moaning as one of her fingers filled you up. With your hands holding your shirt above your tits and your hips grinding over her hand, you worked up the courage to bend over, planting your lips on hers, which she met with a kiss of her own and a hand on the back of your neck.

Violet pulled back slowly, watching the string of your shared saliva dripping off your lips and onto your heaving chest. She slipped another finger inside you, revelling in the loud moan that left your mouth, taking it as a sign to speed up her movements.

And soon you were gasping as the heat in your belly grew to be too much, and you flooded Vi’s hand, her fingers still working to help you over the edge. Vi loved the way your hips worked her fingers in return, writhing over them until your orgasm had dissipated fully and you were left whining as the aftershocks made you clench around her.

As Vi pulled her fingers out of you and you watched her suck the cum off them, you realised maybe you were into girls.

#vi arcane #vi smut #vi x reader #vi fanfic #arcane fanfic #arcane #vi x fem reader

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nanamiscocksleeve · 4 months ago

Text

Natural Breeding Clinic: Patient 1

warnings: MDNI, breeding kinks, use of pet names, piv sex, medical kink, clitoral fingering, nipple play, slight oral (male receiving)

a/n: Here it is. Enjoy ya filthy sluts (said with love). Join the taglist here! Edit: Thank you tumblr for flagging this even though there was nothing wrong with it! guys let me know if there's an issue or you can't read it.

Prologue - Patient 1 - Patient 2

You’re seated awkwardly on the edge of the examination table, trying not to fidget with your hair. Your insides feel like they’ve been tied into knots and your blood won’t stop growing hot in your veins, rushing through your ears so loudly that you feel like you might’ve been at the ocean. After years of trying and failing to find the perfect man, you’d finally given up, content to live as a single woman. But there was one unfulfilled desire you harbored that unfortunately required a member of the opposite sex; a child. After numerous inquiries and health examinations, you finally stumbled across the Jujutsu Fertility Clinic and decided that you might as well experience the entire process of a natural pregnancy.

Your heart is already beating faster than normal, something that Shoko, the kind nurse who had done your vitals, took note of before giving your hand a reassuring pat. “It’s very typical to have a slightly elevated heart rate. It’s all the anticipation. But if you feel like you’re having a panic attack, please don’t hesitate to push your call button. Your doctor will be in soon to start your session.”

Shoko had cheerfully left the room and now you couldn’t help but feel like a horndog, imagining all the different scenarios that might play out today. You were certain you had picked the right doctor. He came off as well-spoken and kind as he’d shared details about himself while also listening to your side of things, taking note of the intimate snippets you told him as though you were discussing the weather that day.

Breathtakingly handsome and highly educated, you knew you wanted him to be the one who would father your child. Each tele-visit had left your panties drenched and you and your Hitachi wand had become better friends recently, locking yourself in your bedroom once the visit was over to run the rounded head of the toy against your needy clit, imagining the day your breeding session would be booked and you’d feel your doctor in the flesh, fantasizing what his cock would look like and how it would fill your cunt as he put a baby into you.

Now the day was finally here. Shoko’s instructions had said to wear whatever made you feel attractive, so here you were, dressed in a demure wine-colored dress that accentuated your boobs, with little bits of cream-colored lace lingerie underneath. You were starting to question your choice of undergarments now, knowing that you were probably already wet, a telltale patch of moisture surely present on the crotch of your panties. What would your doctor think? Or perhaps he was used to this? After all, you couldn’t have been his only patient who got turned on at the prospect of sleeping with him.

Just when the pulsations between your legs start becoming unbearable there’s a knock at the door and your heart skips a beat as you hear your name being called before your doctor enters the room. Tall, with perfect teeth, snowy locks, and aquamarine eyes, he looks at you and gives you a casual smile. The pictures paled in comparison to how personable he looked in real life. He extends a large hand with beautifully long, masculine fingers towards you, and you place your palm on it, feeling the warmth seep into your slightly clammy hands. He presses a kiss to the back of your hand before speaking.

“I’m Dr. Satoru Gojo. It’s very nice to meet you at last. Now, I know that most patients are anxious to start the insemination process right away, however, there are a few more verbal formalities we need to get out of the way before we can actually begin. This portion does need to be recorded, as I’m sure Shoko would have mentioned to you when she set up the camera.” He points towards a small camera and you nod, remembering what the dark brunette nurse had told you.

“I can also promise you that your insemination process will not be recorded in any way. We won’t even be in the examination room as it happens. There have been a few rare instances where the patient wanted to be recorded but it was part of their sexual profile.”

He grabs the clipboard on the desk and gives you a reassuring smile. You, on the other hand, are trying not to salivate all over the floor like a rabid animal, your appetite even more whetted after his appearance in the room.

“To confirm once more, you, F/n L/n, are giving me, Dr. Satoru Gojo, permission to breed you, and were not manipulated or coerced in any manner into making this decision, correct?”

Practicing restraint, you look at the camera. “Yes.”

“You have undergone all the necessary testing as well as physicals needed to assess your body’s condition to carry a baby and were given all the information before you chose to move forward and meet with me correct?”

“Yes.”

“You and I extensively discussed turn-ons, turn-offs, use of toys, and preferences for positions, as well as spoke about kinks in an effort to better understand how your breeding needs can be met. After these discussions were done, we mutually agreed to move forward and set up this insemination, correct?”

You lick your lips and try not to appear too eager. “Yes.”

“Perfect.” Satoru moves over to turn off the camera. “Let’s move to a more comfortable spot shall we?” He offers his hand again and you take it before hopping off the table, letting him lead you out of the room and down the hallway where he stops in front of a different door and starts punching in a code. It swings open and he gestures for you to enter. Your eyes widen as you step inside. It has the look of a posh hotel room, with a large king-sized bed set in the middle. Low-lit lamps made for romantic lighting were scattered across the room as Satoru follows you and the door locks closed behind you with a click.

Your breath catches in your throat as you feel him right behind you, then wraps his arms around you, drawing you against his well-toned chest. “You’re so tense sweetheart. Don’t worry.” He presses a kiss on top of your head. “Just focus on enjoying the process. We’re going to repeat it after all, until your womb quickens with my seed, growing the thing you want the most.” His voice is a deep, sensual purr in your ear, said so gently yet carrying such a dirty undertone that it sent a jolt of pleasure straight into your clit.

“You said you like cuddling prior to your sexual escapades. Shall we?” He glances over at the large bed and you swallow, nodding.

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Please. We’re going to get quite intimately acquainted now. Call me Satoru. Trust me it helps.” Licking your lips, you take his lead and he guides you to the bed, laying you down gently on the pillows before settling behind you, your back pressed to his chest, his long legs brushing against yours, causing every nerve in your body to be on high alert.

Though you had said you enjoyed cuddling which led to foreplay, your body was already sensitized from the knowledge that a sexual encounter was going to happen and you weren’t quite in the mood for cuddling. Still, you allowed yourself to be wrapped up in his arms, inhaling his scent, a kind of fresh, watery musk, and feeling his breath on your ear. His hands entwined with yours, gently flexing your fingers with his in the spaces in between, nuzzling the crook of your neck, making you feel like you were about to spontaneously combust. One of his hands leaves yours and begins to wander down your collarbone, delicately stroking, before dipping lower, tracing the neckline of your dress down to the swell of your breasts, letting his fingertips drag teasingly over an already hard nipple before resting on your belly, playing with the soft squish of it, feeling the way your body reacted to his touch.

Rushes of heat keep darting under your skin, and far too soon, your rounded ass starts to arch back, grinding shamelessly into his thighs, stifling a wanton noise when you feel hardness pressing back against you. A low chuckle, punctuated by a soft nibble on your ear. Unsure, you pause, wondering if you’d somehow done something funny.

“It’s perfectly normal to feel like you need to bring some movement in response to being touched.” Satoru’s hand comes back to stroke your breast over your dress, the light petting sending little erotic skitters along your skin. “Don’t fight it,” he says reassuringly, then slides his hand onto your hip and pulls you against him, subtly thrusting into your plump rear. “Just do whatever you’d normally do.”

A sigh of longing leaves your throat and you start to rousingly roll your hips against Satoru’s erection, feeling a spike in your confidence as he lets out a soft groan. “There you go, sweetheart. Take what you need.”

Fuelled by his encouragement, you roll over to lay face to face, seeing those hypnotic eyes watch you intently, and trace a finger across his jawline, shyly tipping your face up to his for a kiss. He obliges, dipping his head down and capturing your lips, and you revel in the way his mouth feels. You’d been dreaming about it for what felt like ages, and now to finally experience it was a heady rush. Your mouth opens to accept his probing tongue, the wet slip gliding over yours, sampling his taste, feeling the softness of his lips. His hands play with your hair, running enticingly down your back, cupping your ample bottom and pushing, drawing you closer to his heat and growing erection.

Your kisses grow impatient as he continues to tease you, squeezing and tickling your trapped flesh over your dress, hands slipping just low enough to flirt with the hem but not quite low enough to actually get under it. You whine, pulling away from Satoru’s mouth, and notice he’s observing you, eyes concentrated on your face.

“What is it?” He pushes your hair away from your face, softly brushing his thumb against your cheek. “Are you feeling ok?”

You nod, trying not to let your frustration show, but your clit clenches almost angrily now, the intense need to be splayed open and touched taking over all your rational thinking. Satoru presses little kisses onto your forehead, the tip of your nose, and your now closed eyelids, the soft gestures doing little to cool your aching desire. He drags his tongue along the column of your throat and places open-mouthed kisses as he goes.

The sigh that leaves your throat is full of lust, your hands getting impatient as you finally find the nerve to grasp the fancy knot in his tie and loosen it. A low hum leaves him as he comes back to your face. “There you go. I’m yours for now. Do whatever you want with me.” He draws circles into the skin of your upper thighs, exposed from your wriggling, the skirt of the dress hiked up provocatively. His voice drops to a sultry purr. “After all, we’re here to make sure you’re satisfied. I’m here to ensure you get the maximum pleasure your body needs in order to welcome my seed into your body.”

Gaining courage, you slip the tie off Satoru’s neck, then turn your attention to his buttons, fingers trembling from anticipation as you begin to undo them, revealing more and more of his pale skin, and his toned chest and abs. Of course he is in perfect shape, and your eyes drink in the vision that he is, watching the way his skin ripples as he draws in a breath. Could you have picked a more handsome doctor? It seems impossible. You reach out to stroke his skin and he sucks in a breath before drawing you against the expanse of his body.

Satoru’s mouth drops to the crook of your neck, giving it a gentle nip that sends a hot shiver down your spine. “I think you’d make a great mother.” He kisses along the length of your collarbone before hooking a finger into the neckline of your dress and dragging it down your arm to expose more of your shoulder. “I bet you’d look so cute, with a little round baby bump, your breasts becoming fuller each day, your hips growing wider.” A breathy sigh escapes your lips and he kisses the heated skin, sucking on it hard enough to leave a little red mark.

“Heh. That was a cute sound. You’re so responsive.” He takes advantage of the exposed skin and kisses just at the top of the swell of your breasts and you let your impatience get the best of you, looking up at him pleadingly to take off your dress.

He obliges, finally grabbing the rumpled fabric bunched at your hips and pulling the silky material off your body. When it’s gone, he gazes down at you in your pretty lingerie. “You dressed up for me? That’s so sweet.” He licks at the valley between your breasts pushed up by the tiny strips of lace. Air hits you at various places, and you can feel an unmistakable stripe of wetness seeping from your cunt onto the lace thong you’re wearing. The tiny piece of clothing had soaked through, making the already revealing thong practically see-through. Satoru sweeps a long finger against it, feeling moisture against his digits. “You’ve been wanting to be bred for a while now huh?” He pops open your bra, feasting on the display of flesh. He cups your tender breasts and gives soft squeezes, perking up your nipples even more, gently tweaking and pulling at them.

“Waiting so patiently for someone to finally fuck you the way you deserve. To fill your sweet cunt with enough cum to finally get your body in the mood to grow it. Disappointed by so many cocks.” His crude words accompanied by the erotic stimulation of his hands make you moan. The thought of being filled with this man’s baby, to carry it inside you till it grows was pulling at your primal mating instincts. “Till you met me. Don’t worry. Your body will do everything it can to make sure you grow what I give you. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll push it in real deep, ensure it all goes into your womb.”

Chuckling at the way your expression contorts from his fingers, he admires how hard your nipples are, the way they respond to his touch. He palms the creamy flesh of your breasts, and you feel rushes of heat skittering through your body. “Oh, baby these are gonna get so round and full once I fuck you properly. Bet that milk would taste divine.”

Satoru lowers his mouth and draws an aching nipple into his mouth, drawing a strangled cry from you. The texture of his tongue over the stiffened peaks immediately heightens all your senses, feeling pleasure radiate from the center of your breast, feeling it mirrored between your legs where your clit pulsed and throbbed irritably from the madness of needing to be touched. His free hand rests at the top of your other nipple and pushes it in circles, building up your arousal to a fever pitch.

Your blood is hot and running like whiskey through your veins, throwing a punch of heat into your gut, a dizzy spiral of want floating from your throat down into the wet and awaiting folds of your cunt. Satoru takes his time with you, acutely aware of the way your body is already tingling with the desire of wanting to be taken like a bitch in heat. He sees the need of wanting to be filled, to have those soaked walls stroked with his fingers and cock. This is what he was hoping to see.

Changing nipples, he teasingly bites the other one while his free hand snakes down towards your navel, your muscles tensing under the tickling sensation of his wandering fingers, stroking your belly before finally dipping lower to cup your mound under the flimsy fabric of your panties. With a smooth movement, Satoru hooks his finger into the waistband and drags it off, tossing it away. All your senses become alert, waiting in tortured agony as you feel him part your slick flesh, and his fingers probe the very outer edges of your dripping folds.

A keening moan of want leaves your mouth. His lips leave your moist nipple with a plop as his long middle finger slips to the apex of your pussy, finally giving your needy clit the attention it had been craving. He touches the engorged bud, applying light circles onto it that drive you wild, your sweet noises filling the room. Your legs part so willingly, planting your feet into the mattress, toes curling into the bedspread as he pets your clit tenderly. “Harder,” you manage to choke out, feeling the nub contract. “Please.” The word comes out as a whine as he continues those patient strokes.

“Good. It’s better when you’re so desperate like this. Your body will be more receptive to me breeding you this way. How much harder, sweetheart?” Satoru’s other hand takes over, holding the swollen folds of your sex apart, giving him better access to tease and toy with your delicate bundle of nerves. He increases the pressure of the stroke a fraction, making you squirm but also groan in frustration.

“More. It needs to be harder.”

Heeding your request, Satoru adjusts his hand, slipping his ring finger inside your dribbling hole, watching how it gets sucked in with no resistance, and replaces his thumb on your clit. Pushing down firmly onto the center he resumes the circling motions and brings a jolt of pleasure to your system. “Ooh Satoru…” You croon his name as he gets the pressure just right, each motion now bringing delicious friction into your core. Another finger joins the first, curling up to find that sweet patch inside your gummy walls, alternating with scissoring movements as he prepares you for what’s about to come.

Your body is tense, a bow drawn taut, waiting for the arrow to be let loose. Your hips move on their own accord to match his rhythm, nails sinking into the silky sheets, as though worried you might lose your orgasm if you dared let go. When your body finally gives you release, that pleasurable sequence of delightful spasms, your breath tears from your throat, each wave hitting you more intensely than the last, your core and clit clenching and relaxing as you ride out every last drop of pleasure.

His mouth covers yours as you orgasm, his kiss intense as he feels your spasms calm down on his fingers, pulling them out and inhaling before sucking them clean. “Delicious…” he murmurs before placing his fingers near your lips, which you accept, sucking the lingering taste of your pussy and his skin, watching the way his eyes darken as you do so.

“Perfect. You’re ready to be bred now.” Satoru’s hands go to his belt buckle and undo it, and you hear the whine of the zipper as he pulls off his slacks. You can see the bulge of his erection masked behind his underwear and your mouth waters at the size. The pants are discarded into a corner and he begins to slip out of his final piece of clothing, freeing his aching cock from its confines. The lovely engorged tissue was warm, his mushroom head leaking precum from the hole, impressively long with the veins popping from arousal along the sides. You can’t help yourself as you lean over, giving a teasing lick and hearing his breath strangle in his chest. He indulges you for a moment, letting you taste him, your lips catching the milky beads that form, but when you wrap your lips around his head and bob down, he quickly yanks you off him.

He’s panting, a sheen of sweat covering those chiseled abs, and shakes his head, his white locks dancing on his face before flashing you a grin. “You’re such a tease. But I can’t risk the insemination by letting you have your way, no matter how good it feels.” He lays back on the bed, beckoning you to lay over him, and you feel clumsy as you crawl over to him, resting a knee on either side of his hips. His arms wrap around you and encourage you to rest on top of him, the feeling of heated skin pressing together adding to your delicate state. He strokes your back and kisses you again, his tongue sloppy as it explores your mouth. When he pulls away, he adjusts his hands on your hips, ensuring you were comfortable laying on him.

“Take a breath.”

You follow his instruction and the exhale turns into a drawn out moan as he guides his cock into your aching wetness. The tip spreads you open followed by his incredible length, your body helplessly sinking onto him, impaled on the column of heated velvet. A long “oh” escapes your lips, his cock seated so intimately inside you, feeling him just shy of your cervix. He’s patient about it, letting you adjust and wriggle, your hands splaying out on his abdomen as you take a few breaths to clear your mind. He felt so good, so hard and manly, his veins pulsing inside you, adding a delicious layer of additional friction as he teasingly drew out. An animalistic growl leaves your throat at his retreat, his tip threatening to slip out of your lubricated core before he thrusts back up into you, the stroke filling the wet channel so satisfyingly.

Lost in the sensations, you allow him to cradle you on his chest, taking his sweet time fucking you, timing his thrusts to your breathing, which becomes shallow as your pleasure builds. Your cunt is dribbling from the heat, the scent of fecundity filling the room, his cock stroking your inner walls desirably. Your pussy clenches, sucking him further into you, pulling him closer to your womb where you needed him. With a moan, you raise up off his chest, using him as support, and start to ride him, his veiny erection slickened from your arousal.

“Oh that’s it my girl. Take it.” Satoru pushes your hair away from your face as you rise and crash down on him, your hips bucking like your life depended on it. His warm hands cup your bouncing breasts, watching your face contort as you use him for your own need.

“Fuck yourself on my cock. You like it huh? Need it in you…want it to shoot all that cum into your womb…” He purrs the words as those magnificent eyes look straight into yours.

The sound of slapping skin fills the room, both your moans mingling in the air. You did need to bred. You had waited long enough. Your mind is a haze of sexual disarray, nothing more important than getting what you need from him. To be bred like the good girl you were, to finally have your most deepest desire fulfilled. Your thigh muscles are tiring, you can feel them quiver in protest but primal instinct is driving you to keep moving, to bounce on his cock until he cums and fills you with his creamy seed…

You gasp in surprise as Satoru’s large hands squeeze around your waist, steadying you, and slowing you down before reversing your positions. He looms over you and has not slipped out with the transition. “Let me do it. You shouldn’t have to work so hard for this.” Angling his hips, he does a few experimental thrusts until he feels his head brush into the spongy knot of nerves inside your body, making you cry out, your eyes squeezing shut, fingernails sinking into the sinew of his perfect ass.

He surges forward, taking care to brush against it each time, his forearms and biceps rippling as he thrusts. Your legs wrap around his waist, wanton noise leaving your lips as you cling to him, feeling ecstatic rushes of delight humming through your veins. He murmurs frivolities into your ears as he sets up a comfortable rhythm, gspot first, followed by a soft kiss of his tip against your cervix. “Pretty mama. Gonna make you so round and full. You’ll be going home with a part of me inside you. I’ll give you enough today to last until your next round. Don’t worry if it drips. It’s just a sign of how well you’ve been bred.”

Your walls clamp down on him, feeling so full of him, imagining the vivid image he’d described, of becoming plump and glowy, growing life inside your body. “I want that so much,” you confess, glancing up at him and he makes a grunt of approval.

“Get ready then.”

His movements become faster, his balls slapping against you as he picks up his pace, panting, sweat forming on both your bodies. His abs are tight as he chases his orgasm, feeling his balls starting to draw up in anticipation. Your mouth is open, lewd noises falling from your lips as you wait for him to give you what you need, then feel the familiar spasms gripping your pussy and lose yourself as your body is rewarded with a second orgasm. Satoru lets out a moan as he finally falls off the edge, satisfied with your climax, and sheathes himself completely into your heat, pushing himself as far in as he can go, letting spurts of his hot cum dribble into you, shooting into your fertile womb. He stills, catching his breath, and to ensure that gravity doesn’t work against you, plugging you effectively until he’s sure enough time has passed before he can safely pull out. Satoru’s cock is semi-limp, as he frees himself with a soft squelching noise.

He draws you against him again, reassuringly stroking your back and smoothing your hair. “You did so well sweetheart. Take some rest now. A nap will give your body a little break and do what it needs to do. Just imagine your next insemination session as you rest.”

His words are a soothing purr in your ear and your eyes did feel heavy and you decide a nap wasn’t a bad idea at the moment. Cozying up to your warm doctor, you sigh against his skin and let yourself fall asleep. You wake up an hour later still snug in his arms. Satoru confirms your next appointment before helping you back into your clothes, and walking you to the reception.

“I hope this journey will give you everything you want,” he says courteously to you before stepping back into the clinic. You follow up with your remaining four insemination sessions, each more satisfying than the last.

Waiting was the hardest part. But finally, you take the pregnancy test, feeling your heart flutter when the double lines show up in the little window.

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bi-writes · 2 months ago

Note

I feel like now that MOB and Simon are comfy together and truly utterly unbelievably in love, they'd maybe wanna have a wedding. Not in the traditional, big church tons-of-guests way, but like in the dress up, say vows, and show off your love to your loved ones (no matter how few) way. Not cause they need it or cause they feel pressured, but just cause it's be sweet. A beautiful memory for them (and an excuse for MOB to see Simon in a suit and for Simon to see her in a wedding dress yknow?)

mail-order bride

you're nervous.

more nervous than you felt on the way to this house for the first time. sitting in the back of that taxi, one suitcase in the trunk and the cat in the seat beside you, even then, even knowing you were heading to meet a stranger, you did not feel this type of nervousness.

it's deep in your belly. a taut force that tangles your insides, and you try to hide the shake in your hands as you close the small book that holds your vows and pick up the small bouquet on the dresser.

they're daisies, from the garden. simon picked them for you this morning, had woken you up by tucking one of the stems behind your ear. you made sure to add a few to your hair before dressing.

the silk sits perfectly. that shop on the main street had kept your measurements, and when you asked if they could make you something a little more special, you could not have envisioned anything more beautiful.

structured bodice to hold you in, draped in silk that fell over every curve and every line like falling water, in an elegant white that made the sentiment of what today would be all too real.

he's leaning against the doorway to the backyard when you open the bedroom door. you're barefoot, quiet, so it takes him a minute before he notices you.

both of you pause at a reasonable distance when you finally get a good look at each other.

simon looks so handsome. he's all made-up in his dress uniform, a faded green jacket buttoned over slacks with a khaki shirt underneath, but it is tailored to perfect, and the belt around his waist makes him look all the more formal. what really has you swooning is the lovely medals on his chest--lined up in beautiful rows, glinting in the sunlight as he tips the beret he's wearing to eye you carefully.

"christ," simon murmurs, taking both his hands out of his pockets. he clears his throat, shifting in his boots, and he finally holds a hand out for you, beckoning you forward. "wot a bloody sight y'are, luv."

you pad forward, smiling, and when your hand fits in his, you both squeeze, staring at one another with grins that won't fade. he leans forward to pressing his face to yours before making his way outside with you.

there's a seat under the tree, with a small table beside it. there's flowers everywhere, petals across the grass, and you follow simon under the shade as he takes a seat, guiding you into his lap so you both can sit there for a moment.

it's quiet. there's a light breeze making the leaves fall, but the sun is peeking through the clouds, and you can see the cats in the window, staring at you both as they chew between nips of cat grass. you set down your bouquet on the table beside you, settling in simon's lap as you hold the notebook to your chest.

"can...can i go first?" you ask, and simon reaches up to brush a few strands of your hair out of your face. he nods, adjusting you in his lap, and you try not to focus too hard on how much your hands shake as you flip open the little book you're holding.

the first few pages are your first few drafts, scribbled out with messy pen strokes. you settle where your real words begin, somewhere in the middle, jumbled between messy handwriting since you spent so long perfecting it all.

"simon," you start gently, and you relax a little when you feel his hand settle on your lower back, soothing you gently as he listens. "i had no idea what i was getting myself into all that time ago. my entire life, it's felt like...i've felt like i've just been running. running from the things i've always been afraid of. from people that i didn't trust. from the things that have happened and the things i thought might happen. in fact...i felt like if i didn't keep running, something terrible would catch up to me."

one of your hand falls, and simon covers it with his own. the shaking settles, and you continue.

"and then i came here," you whisper. "i-i..." you swallow. "i-i came here, and i ran right into you." you notice a few wet spots on the pages, and you steady your breaths, trying not to focus too much on the wetness you feel along your cheeks. "a-and you caught me."

you look over at him, and he's smiling, dark eyes trained on your clasped hands in your lap. he squeezes, bringing your hand up to his mouth, and you have the courage to keep going when you feel him kiss your knuckles.

"i don't know how we found each other. i-i don't know who knew that this house was mine. i don't know who understood that there was an empty place inside that belonged to me, but i'm here now. a-and i'm not...i'm not going anywhere."

you bend, leaning forward, and you press your forehead to his temple.

"no one has ever loved me the way you do, simon riley. and i-i promise i will try until forever t-to do the same for you."

it hurts. there's a place in simon's chest that physically aches, like a tender wound, squeezing against his ribs as he hugs you close to his body. the time with you is precious. he fears the moment he knows that there is not much left, but that time isn't now, and he cherishes that fact.

he has always carried a sense for those kind of things. he can tell when there is little left, like knowing there is nothing more to drink in canister without shaking it. it's a feeling, one he knows well, but he doesn't feel that with you, not yet, and he will consume every breath he can that he shares with you until then (because when he feels the time waning, he will give you every breath of his that remains if it means you get just one more second of this life).

simon reaches into his jacket, pulling out a small paper. he unfolds it gently, still holding you close, and you cling to the lapels of his jacket as he talks to you in that low, soothing voice of his.

"'m not sure where t'start," simon chuckles. "was hard for me to think of wot t'say t'ya." he takes a small breath before kissing your forehead. "'s hard ta think about wot it was like before i had ya 'ere. only eatin' because i had to. only leavin' the house because the job demanded it of me. like the whole world was a terrible fuckin' grey. so fuckin' quiet, i could hear this nasty ringin' in my ears."

simon crumples the paper a little, and you wrap a hand around the back of his neck to anchor him.

"honest...i thought the job would 'ave me. tha' i'd go out in some reckless sort of way, or maybe i'd just...let it take me with it one day. and when i knew y'were comin', i still thought tha' was how it would be. tha' i'd settle in it alone, on my own, like i always 'ave."

you close your eyes, and you can hear nothing besides his voice.

"thought i'd run outta luck. thought crawlin' out of my fuckin' grave was the last thing that they'd ever give me," he mutters, and you suck in a shaky breath when you hear the paper crumple sharply. "i don't know wot i ever did to deserve someone like you, luv. 'm not good. never 'ave been. the things i've done, wot i've seen, i wasn't meant for good things."

you pull back a little and open your eyes, and simon's own are full of pain. he grips your waist a little firmly, digging his fingers into you there.

"'n ya aren't just good. y'r perfect. like y'were made in my dreams. and still y'r 'ere, and ya haven't left, and..." he swallows. "nothing else matters, swee'eart." his eyes meet yours. big, brown ones, sadness so permeable, striking, an unnerving kind. "family is oll that matters." when your foreheads touch again, you can't stop yourself. his voice is low, gravelly, weighed down by some kind of pain that you'll never understand. simon has pieces of himself that are missing. people from a past life that he tries to keep finding, things that he knows should be here, but will forever disappoint him by no longer being real.

when he puts his hand over your heart, you can't see him anymore, not really. your tears blur your vision.

"y'r all that matters."

when you cut the cake in the kitchen, you feed each other small bites of decadent chocolate, and when you finish, you gift each other the vows you've written, to tuck away somewhere special, to read when the world gets too loud or when the colors of life get washed out by meaningless distractions.

the dance in the kitchen has lasted for minutes or hours, you can't remember. the music is soft, and you're swaying, but time is meaningless when you're looking into simon's eyes.

it is a part of him that will never change. you memorize how they look, because you want to recognize them in every place that you see them. you want to remember them everywhere, now, soon, until time rots the plants above the sink and kills the vegetables in your garden and makes threadbare the kitchen towels on the counter--you want to remember them.

so you can find him in this life, and every other one that comes after.

#this one was rough to write i won't lie #i hope you enjoy #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #order up

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wife-of-all-dilfs · 10 months ago

Text

hungry eyes | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick is a great cook, and a chef must taste-test all his meals, mustn’t he? including you.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: smut, oral (fem receiving), finnick is a munch and a thigh man, praise, swearing, cum swallowing, fingering

notes: i’m so sorry about the long-writing-time-to-short-word-count ratio. i don’t know if i like this ahhh. lmk what y’all think <3

word count: 3.5k

You were passing through the entry room of your house when the front door opened with a slight creak. Stepping through the doorway was Finnick, dressed in a white billowy Henley shirt (he had a few buttons purposely left open and the sleeves were rolled to his elbows) and a pair of dark grey pants.

His hair was a windswept mess of bronze waves with different strands poking out in various directions, but he somehow made it work. He looked…

Wow.

You, on the other hand, were still in your pyjamas, wearing a pair of thin cotton shorts and cosy thigh-high socks.

As soon as he entered the house, you could tell what kind of mood he was in. Drained. That tended to happen whenever he had to spend the day with his prep team and prepare for an upcoming event in the Capitol.

His cheerless eyes found yours and you swore a spark of life flickered in them.

“Hey, Finn,” you said. “Are y—oh!”

Before you could finish, he had wordlessly stepped towards you and collected you in his arms. Your feet left the ground as he picked you up and continued walking further into the house.

“What are you doing?” you gasped.

Your legs curled around his back, your body leaning into his chest so as not to fall backwards. He smelled really nice, like how you imagined sunlight hitting the sea on a warm summer’s day would smell.

“Making something to eat,” he finally spoke. His eyes briefly flickered to yours. “I’m hungry.”

Well, you did send him off that morning with some of last night’s leftover crab cakes, so he couldn’t have been that hungry. Plus, he was with his prep team. They would’ve had plenty of fancy Capitol-esque food on hand to satiate him.

Weird.

“So that means I don’t get a hello?” you teased.

Finally, a small smile worked its way onto his lips. He leaned forward and pressed his lips sweetly and softly to your own, his hands not-so-sweetly squeezing the plush of your ass as he did.

He pulled back and gave you a mischievous look. “Hi, sweetheart.”

You smiled bashfully in response. “Hi.”

You had passed through the archway into the kitchen, the entire room now being bathed in sunlight from the four o’clock sun. It was the picture of a perfect beach house—driftwood and seashell ornaments, sand-coloured benchtops, and large wooden-framed bay windows.

Finnick set you down on the counter facing the stove, your legs now dangling over the edge.

“You just had to bring me into the kitchen with you?” you asked.

He was already out of your arms, scouring the cupboards for various ingredients for whatever it was he was planning to cook up.

“Gotta have something pretty to look at,” he said, throwing a wink over his shoulder.

Warmth crept into your cheeks. “Right. Obviously.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, apart from the clatter of a metal pot being set on the stove and the splashing of various vegetables and chicken stock being thrown into boiling water. Your legs swung lightly as you watched Finnick in quiet admiration.

Steam wafted into the air, bringing with it a sweet herbaceous smell. You hated to admit it, but Finnick was an unbelievable cook; much better than you were. He was constantly offering to teach you his culinary skills which often led to the two of you spending hours together in the kitchen. Burnt and over-salted meals were a common result. Regardless, you enjoyed the time together.

Sometimes it even led to other things as well… things very unrelated to cooking.

Finnick seemed to hyper-focused on the soup he was stirring; he was being unusually quiet, making you wonder what was going on inside his head. Had something happened during the time he was away?

“How’d you go today?” you asked.

He shrugged his shoulders, humming a vague response.

“Mm,” you copied, wearing a teasing smile.

He shot you a playful look over his shoulder. Then he did something weird.

His head turned again, and he gave you a double-take, eyes falling from your face and to your legs. Your pyjama shorts had ridden up to the crease where your legs and hips connected, and your thighs were squished together on the counter, the cuff of your thigh-high socks digging into the soft flesh. His eyes flickered to yours once more before he turned back around.

Very weird.

An unexpected wave of goosebumps travelled down your entire body. You swallowed nervously and averted your eyes to your lap. It was absurd how a single look from him could cause you to react so strongly. He had so much power over you.

You crossed your legs, palms flat against the bench top on either side of you for support. The entire room was filled with the sweet aroma of the broth Finnick had made, causing your mouth to water from the mere thought of the warm liquid soaking into your tongue.

He lifted the pot from the stove and turned it off, scooping the contents into two bowls. However, when he turned around and walked over to you, he was only holding one.

“Just glad to be home with you,” he said and offered you the bowl.

“Oh, thank you,” you said, taking it into your hands.

The bowl was hot against your palms and fingertips, almost burning right down into your bloodstream as the golden liquid wafted steam into your face. Finnick’s gaze followed your movements as you lifted the spoon to your lips and finally felt the delicious heat seep into your tastebuds.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you hummed a noise of pleasure, already craving another spoonful. “Tastes really good.”

“Yeah?” He tilted his head.

Finnick was gently lifting one of your legs into his hands, massaging your calf through the cotton of your socks. His hand wandered down to your ankle, stroking over it with an affectionate touch before gliding back up to the underside of your knee. You had hardly noticed his affectionate behaviour, too distracted by the vibrant tastes filling your mouth.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” you asked half-heartedly, focused on getting another mouthful in.

“Sure am,” he murmured.

Selfishly, you paid his words no mind even though you really should have. You had just lowered the spoon back into the bowl, watching the soup cover the metal when suddenly, your leg was being lifted over the other.

Now this got your attention.

You swallowed the warm liquid, eyes looking up at him in confusion. He uncrossed your legs, nudging them open with his hands on your inner thighs before he positioned himself between them. Your thighs were now hugging either side of his hips, your grip on the bowl frozen with uncertainty.

“What are you…?” you began, but then he was gently taking the bowl and spoon out of your hands and placing them on the bench beside you.

“Told you I’m hungry, sweetheart,” he said. He placed his hands on either side of you, leaning in until your faces were inches apart. “Been waiting all day to see you. And these socks…” he trailed off with a sigh, sliding his fingers just beneath the band digging softly into your thigh before letting it snap back in place. “Well, now I’m practically starving.”

You stared at him, eyes wide and mouth agape. God, you were already breathless.

“Oh,” you whispered.

He bit his bottom lip and kept lowering his gaze to your mouth, looking at you as if you were a grand three-course meal and he was on death row.

“I just need a taste,” he spoke almost pleadingly. “Will you let me?”

Not a single neuron in your brain was firing at that moment. With the way he was staring at you, how gorgeous helooked, and the fact that he was practically begging to be between your thighs, it was almost impossible to say no. It was also impossible for you to verbalise it as well.

“Please, baby. You’ll let me, won’t you?” he pleaded.

The growing desperation in his voice had you sinking your hips into the counter, feeling yourself begin to ache for him. Of course, as you did this your thighs grew expanded even wider from the pressure and Finnick seemed to like that very much. You could tell from the way his cock left a large print across the front of his pants.

You nodded, speechless.

“You will?” His hands found the sides of your thighs. “Good.”

Within seconds, he had dragged your body to the edge and collided your pelvis with his. He felt as hard as he looked. You gasped at his eagerness but were immediately cut off by his lips crushing against your own, leading you into a kiss that mirrored the hunger he must have been feeling inside all day.

His hand moved into your hair, holding you with a firm yet gentle grip. He was leaning into you, moving his lips so assertively that your body had to lean back to get a sliver of respite. You were buzzing with anticipation like electric currents were moving through your veins. If he was kissing you like this, what would it be like when his lips were further below?

He then pulled away to observe you.

“My beautiful, beautiful girl,” he whispered, gently smoothing the hair beside your face.

You leaned into his touch, enjoying the brief tender moment. Your hand moved onto his and gently squeezed as you looked up at him, gaze doe-eyed and full of false naivety. You knew you were only spurring him on.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” he said before pressing another peck to your lips. Then he started to go lower. First, he kissed the length of your neck and then the skin above your breasts exposed by your low-cut shirt. “Perfect eyes, perfect lips, perfect thighs.”

He was crouching now, trailing kisses down your stomach which had your fingers weaving into his hair. The descension halted at your upper thighs. His lips left a warm tingling sensation that spread across your skin with each tender touch. You watched him begin moving higher, entering a dangerous region of your inner thighs with lips that were trademarked for trouble.

The air in your lungs was in short supply now.

“Just so sweet and so…” His fingers slipped into your waistband and pulled your shorts down your legs. The fabric fell from your ankles and there you sat, your glistening cunt bare and reflecting in Finnick’s green eyes. “So wet.”

Feeling nervous due to his penetrative stare, you attempted to conceal yourself and began closing your legs. He tsked and forced them open with two sturdy hands. He continued marvelling at the slick that coated your folds, committing the image to his mind.

“So perfect,” he exhaled.

You were getting impatient now.

“Finnick,” you whined. “Please. Just… Just do some—"

You inhaled sharply. He had rushed forward and finally connected his warm mouth to your cunt.

High-pitched breathless moans were already spilling from your lips as his harsh tongue delved between your folds, lapping up the arousal that had leaked out. Your body was restless, which was evident from the way your fingers pulled at his hair, hips bucked into his mouth, and thighs clenched around his head.

Hunger and starvationwere not the right terms to describe how he was acting. Not at all.

He was insatiable.

Finnick’s shoulders slid beneath your thighs, forcing your legs to dangle over them. His arms were curled around your legs while his hands kept your legs clamped open from the top of your thighs. He suctioned his lips around your clit, the sensitive flesh growing more swollen as the pressure he applied increased.

You placed a hand on the counter behind you to keep yourself steady, keeping the other hand buried in his golden waves. Your head fell back with a loud moan. He was shaking his head side-to-side in a manner that could only be deemed as animalistic. He was eating you out like a fucking animal. Like he was a predator, and this was his kill.

“Oh, my god!” you cried out.

He moaned into your pussy, tongue dragging from your opening and back to your clit, savouring every ounce of sweetness he could pull from you. A dull pain was coming from your upper thighs and you quickly realised Finnick’s fingers were digging into your skin. Each time your thighs tried to shut, his fingers buried deeper into your flesh. And mixed with the feeling of his tongue lapping you up, it felt rapturously overwhelming.

His tongue began flicking your clit at such rapid speeds that you weren’t even sure a vibrator could replicate it. You were now pulling, no, yanking at his hair all the while your hips were moving closer to his face. The pleasure was so devastating even your body wasn’t sure what to do with itself.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” his hoarse voice vibrated against your clit, “y’gotta strong grip.”

Your chest heaved as you looked down at him. “Finn, don’t stop.”

And of course, he pulled back an inch to look up at you. The sight of him between your legs was fucking glorious. A mix of your juices and spit was dribbling down his chin, coating his lips in a shine you wanted to taste. His hair was dishevelled in a way you could only describe as a sex-crazed mess. Oh, and the way his blown-wide pupils were looking at you… like he had a whim to devour you whole right then and there.

“Stop? Who said I was ever going to stop?” He smirked.

Then he leaned in and fell back into his previous rhythm. The heels of your feet dug into his back. He was essentially making out your cunt. His tongue was swirling around your clit and kissing it sweetly, as if doing so offered you any reprieve from the exquisite torment he was inducing. Your stomach muscles were aching in the most pleasurable way, sending signals of pure arousal to your brain that made you feel intoxicated.

“Like fucking sugar,” his voice muffled into you.

He tongued your entrance, forcing as much as he could inside you. Your walls fluttered with warmth around him and you let out a needy little whine. He flicked his tongue upwards inside you as he slid in and out, thick eyebrows scrunched together as he moaned at your taste soaking into his tastebuds.

One of his arms unravelled from your thigh and his tongue retracted from inside you. You whimpered in displeasure, only to gasp as something longer immediately replaced his tongue. Finnick’s mouth was entirely focused on suckling your clit, meanwhile, the two fingers he had slid inside you were focused on pushing your body over the edge.

“Fuck,” you breathed heavily. “Fuck. Oh, f—ah!”

The pads of his fingertips pressed into that swollen spot deep inside you, knuckles prodding your walls as he curled his fingers. He was wildly flicking his tongue over your clit with the added help of his head shaking side-to-side.

You were writhing. Your body had never known such powerful sensations before meeting Finnick. Even after all the time you had been together, you were still trying to get accustomed to how intensely he made you feel. Given that information, you could feel your orgasm rocketing from deep within and to the surface. Flames licked at the muscles in your stomach, spreading like wildfire from your clit.

Finnick looked up at you, and you looked down at him. Look how good I make you feel, his cocky eyes spoke. Your parted lips were dark, flushed with heat and arousal, letting each and every debauched sound echo around the ceramic-tiled room. He plunged his fingers inside you again and your head fell back. You knew he was laughing. You could feel it.

The noises filling the room were pure sex. The sound of Finnick’s fingers squelching inside you, of him sucking and lapping at your pussy, and your whiny half-crazed moans—they were all that could be heard. And then suddenly your body started tensing.

“I’m so close,” you panted. “Finn, I’m—I’m—Fuck!”

And there it was.

Finnick didn’t stop. Hell, he somehow even managed to pick up his pace.

Your thighs clamped harshly around his head; this would’ve worried you if your brain actually had a single thought running through it. Shockwaves of bliss crashed over your body; they consumed you. Your moans came out as choked noises and filthy gratified cries of Finnick’s name as he sucked and curled his fingers in and out.

You felt him speaking, most likely words of praise to talk you through your high, but you couldn’t hear. White noise buzzed in your ears. Part of you could feel him collecting your juices with his tongue as the built-up tension gushed from your cunt. The other part of you was gone.

At least for a brief period.

When you came back to reality, Finnick was starting to stand back up. His hands were holding both your thighs, keeping them from violently trembling. You stared at him, waiting for the spots in your vision to disappear and the buzzing in your ears to settle. There was nothing you could do about the liquid seeping onto the bench top.

He surveyed your dazed expression, mild concern etched into his features as his eyes flickered between your own. His hand gently cupped the side of your face.

“You here?” he asked, lightly dragging his thumb down your lower lip.

Sweetness coated the tip of your tongue as you licked your bottom lip. Well, no wonder he enjoyed doing that so much. You tasted really… good.

“I’m okay,” you whispered.

He gave you this beautiful dimpled smile, and he dropped his hand once more. His eyes were on yours, gleaming with mischief as he dragged two fingers up your folds, glazing them in a white shine. You were so sensitive that your hips jerked forward at the light contact, causing him to chuckle softly.

You watched as he lifted his fingers to his lips and within milliseconds, you were reaching out to stop him.

His fingers were so thick and long, and with your arousal coating them, it was damn near impossible to deny yourself the pleasure of having a little taste as well. So, with two hands holding his palm, you guided his fingers towards you.

You eyed the liquid for a moment, hesitated, and then licked a long strip from the base of his forefinger and up to his fingertip. Then, closing your eyes, you wrapped your lips around the length and began sucking. It was a potent taste, both overpowering and lingering. Not bad though. You moved onto his middle finger, this time keeping your eyes on Finnick as you sucked it clean.

His expression reflected something of astonishment, letting out a perplexed chuckle as he watched. With a wet pop, his fingers were out of your mouth. You were holding his large palm and pressing a soft kiss to each of his fingertips, a tender and affectionate gesture compared to the act you just pulled.

Finnick shook his head at you, wearing a disbelieving smile.

“What?” you asked, feigning innocence.

“What,” he echoed your response under his breath. He grabbed your chin, leaning down until you were face-to-face. “You play a dangerous game, sweetheart.”

Then his lips were on yours and when his tongue slipped into your mouth, all that could be tasted was you. That previous animalistic air about him had dissipated; he was gentler now, kissing you in a way that was adoring rather than bordering primal. Not that you had been complaining.

His pelvis was pressed against yours. More accurately, his cock was pressed against your pelvis. Whoever made his pants must have used strong threading. He was so hard that you were surprised the seams hadn’t ripped apart and exposed him altogether. You were surprised but also thankful because undoing his pants was your job.

Your hands moved to his chest and pushed him backwards. His lips left yours with a displeased grunt.

“Oh, don’t you worry, Finn,” you said, your hands trickling down his torso. “I’ve worked up an appetite myself as well.”

He looked down at you, eyes oozing with seduction. “Really?”

“Mhm.”

You slid off the counter, feeling his erection glide over your body. The fragrant smell of marinated vegetables and chicken still lingered in the room. You should have felt disheartened about not finishing the mouth-watering soup Finnick had made—or perhaps even the entire pot. But as you sank to your knees and began unbuttoning his pants, you realised there was one thing that was a great deal more appetising.

Peering up at him through your lashes, you saw him looking down at you with a lazy smirk.

Your lips stretched into a sinful smile. “My turn.”

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair smut #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair x fem!reader #sam claflin #the hunger games #mockingjay #catching fire #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair drabble #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #thg finnick #finnick x you

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