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wintrwinchestr · 8 months ago

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an overture of indulgence (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

summary: it's been a long time since you've seen joel, and some things have changed, but a lot has stayed the same. namely, how quickly he can still get you on his knees for him, ready to show him exactly just how much you like what has changed about him.

warnings: 18+, smut, post-outbreak, jackson joel, d/s relationship dynamics, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, sweet girl, etc), body worship, belly kink, talk of weight gain, belly riding, m/f masturbation, lil bit of humiliation kink, lil bit of edging, reader is an adult but age otherwise unspecified, reader is shorter than joel and has hair long enough to grab, let me know if i missed anything :)

word count: 4.3k

a/n: just fuckin outing myself left and right these days huh. idk what came over me with this one. started this late last night and here it is now. belly enjoyers rise!!!!!!! nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed <3 you can't kink shame me bc i like getting bullied so now what. also i avoided daddy kink for once in my life please clap. i know i’m spoiling y’all this weekend don’t get used to it.

divider by @saradika

“...Joel?!” you shout, your leisurely walking pace quickly turning into a hurried jog as you leave Tommy behind, making a beeline toward the man you would swear on your life is Joel Miller. A small handful of years ago now, he was kind of your boyfriend, kind of not, kind of something else more complicated and unlabeled, because who can afford to put a label on anything in times like these?

Joel’s head turns in your direction at the sound of his name, and as soon as you spot that crooked scar across the bridge of his nose, you’re certain it’s him.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” you half-cry, throwing your weight into him as you wrap him in a tight embrace. He’s much taller than you, but you still managed to knock him off his balance a little. He envelops your whole body in one of his signature, all-encompassing hugs, and it’s like no time has passed at all.

The two of you had ended whatever it was you had on good terms, no hard feelings or animosity shared between you. It was just hard to maintain any kind of relationship in a world like this, and trying to nurture romance in the Boston QZ was much like trying to grow a rose garden in toxic, radioactive soil. You can put as much care and effort and something like love into it as you have in you, but the circumstances will just never allow it to reach its full potential. The end of your “relationship” was mutual, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when he had disappeared one day without so much as saying goodbye.

When you had stumbled upon Tommy and a group of patrollers in the snowy forest outside Jackson just earlier today, you were alone, tired, and losing hope that this rumored safe haven even existed at all. You had heard crackles through the radio in the QZ about the community, and even though it sounded too good to be true, what else did you have to lose anymore? After months of travel and survival and pain and hunger, you’d never been so happy to meet a bunch of strangers in the woods in your whole life. You didn’t hesitate to get on the back of Tommy’s horse, and let him lead you to the sanctuary they spoke of.

As he was giving you a tour, proudly showing off their electricity, running water, fresh food, and clean houses, you had started to look forward to what the future may bring, for the first time in a long time. You could never have imagined you’d ever run into Joel again, that this is where he had ended up, of all places. And now here the both of you are, bodies pressed as tightly together as possible, breathing in each other’s familiar scents and never wanting to let go again.

Joel is the first to break the embrace, grasping your head in his large hands and frantically searching your face for any sign that he could be dreaming, that fate hasn’t really brought you back together again after all.

“Jesus Christ, it’s really you,” he breathes, and you swear his voice breaks just a little bit as he presses his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes as he does.

When he blinks them open again, he meets Tommy’s gaze, who’s standing quietly a few yards back from where you’re having your sentimental reunion. Tommy gives an understanding nod, and gestures that he’ll be waiting inside the community’s dining hall, gathering that whatever this is happening between his brother and some girl he only just met, he shouldn’t interrupt. Joel is grateful for many things today, one of them being the rekindled bond he has with Tommy, the other being how you somehow miraculously found your way back to him.

Small groups of other Jackson residents follow Tommy into the dining hall shortly afterward, and as the sun begins to set behind the mountains, Joel realizes it must be about time for dinner to be served.

He detaches his lips from your forehead, brushing some of your hair away from your face as he takes you in again. “You poor thing, must be starvin’ I bet,” he wonders aloud, giving you a sympathetic look.

“Kinda always am, just as a rule, but yeah,” you reply, trying to make light of your situation. Though, Joel doesn’t seem to find the humor in it the way you do.

“Long as you stay here, ain’t ever gotta worry about that again, that’s for damn sure.” He runs his tongue across his lips as he finishes his sentence, already knowing that whatever meal they’re serving tonight, it’ll be some of the most delicious food he’s had in a long time. He suspects you’ll feel much the same. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. Get you warm and fed for once in your life.”

–

Your heart, your stomach, your soul, all feel full as you relax into the comfortable couch in the living room of Joel’s cozy home. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you staying in an empty house all by yourself tonight, insisting that if you’d like some company while you settle in, you were more than welcome to his. He had let you spend as long as you wanted to in his shower, and he didn’t mind if there was hardly any warm water left by the time you were done. He sure as hell wasn’t paying the bill, and you deserved to feel truly clean. He can remember clear as day how he felt after his first Jackson shower, like he had stripped off a layer of grime he hadn’t been able to scrub all the way clean in twenty years. He had gone to Maria to get you some clothes and underwear while you were bathing, and set them silently on the sink counter for you to put on whenever you were done.

And now here you sit, feeling full and clean and satisfied and comfortable and safe, watching Joel stoke the logs in his fireplace as it casts the whole room in a honey orange glow. You take a moment to admire him while he isn’t looking, and even in the dim and flickering lighting, you can see he’s just as handsome as he was the last time you saw him. He looks older, with more gray in his longer hair and meat on his bones, the latter trait likely due to years worth of the hearty cooking you both indulged in tonight. He looks… good like this.

“It really is nice to see you again, you know. You look…” you start, not being able to help the way your eyes wander to his soft lower belly, the way it pushes taut against his tucked-in flannel shirt and just barely spills over the edge of his jeans.

He turns his head away from the fire to face you. You’re not very subtle in your staring, and he knows what you’re referring to right away. He huffs a light chuckle, trying to brush off the way he thinks you’re poking fun at him.

“I know, I know,” he acknowledges, placing a hand on his stomach. “Been tryin’ to get Maria to give me some more patrol shifts, see if I can get some of the weight off. But hey, you try havin’ three square meals a day for the first time in twenty some odd years, see what it does to you, huh?” He pivots his attention back to the fireplace, and he seems to turn his body further away from you on purpose, so that you can’t see the round profile of his tummy as much.

“No! No, it, um… It suits you. I was gonna say you look good, actually.” You’re quick in your reply, trying to make it clear that you didn’t mean to offend him, without letting too much on.

He scoffs. “C’mon, you don’t gotta flatter me, sweetheart. I know I don’t exactly look the way you remember–”

“Joel, will you stop?” you interrupt, your voice laced with exasperation. “I’m being serious. Do I look like I’m making fun of you?”

He cranes his neck to look back at where you’re perched on the couch, and gives you a once over. “Guess not… Look a lil’ like somethin’ else, though, if I'm bein’ honest,” he says with a teasing smirk. And there he is again, the same quick-witted Joel you remember from back in the QZ.

You choose to engage in his banter, just to see where he’s going with it. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

He shrugs, beginning to mindlessly poke at the firewood again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you might like it.”

He’s just kidding around with you, trying to rile you up, you’re sure. But when he gets silence in return instead of the sound of you jumping to defend yourself with another playful jab, he turns to face you once more, and is met with your stunned expression.

“Oh…” Joel looks down at himself, then back to you again, just in time to catch your eyes flitting from his middle back up to his face. “What, you like ‘em big, sweetheart? ‘S that it?”

The truth is, you do, you always have. It was never a requirement, of course, as the guys you’d been with before Joel all had varying body types. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said that your eyes didn’t linger just a bit longer on guys with a little more to them, with wider arms and thicker legs and a softer middle. You’ve never admitted your preference to anyone before, and Joel calling you out on it now has your face running hot, skin feeling prickly as he sees through you like you’re made of glass.

“I-I don’t– I mean, I do, kinda, but not like that… Well, it is like that, I just mean–” You stumble over yourself, fearing you’ve revealed too much, wishing you could rewind the conversation and just tell him it was nice to see him again, plain and simple.

Joel lays the fire poker down on the granite ledge of the fireplace, approaching where you’re sitting and cupping the side of your face with his calloused hand.

“Sh, sh, stop, baby. ‘S alright if you do, nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he comforts, and it takes all the willpower you have left not to let your eyes drift down to his stomach, so close you could kiss it, if he’d let you.

“It’s just… I missed you. I thought about you all the time, wondered what ever happened to you after you left. Didn’t even know if you were alive until today. I’m just happy to see you… doing so well. To see that you’re healthy, and everything.” You swallow hard, hoping you sound convincing enough that he’ll let this go, forget all about your little admission just now. But of course, Joel is as stubborn as he’s ever been, and he doesn’t plan on releasing you from his trap now that you’re ensnared in it.

“That’s sweet, baby, ‘s real sweet,” Joel says, softly, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone as he speaks. “Thought about you too, all this time. Practically every day…” He rakes his eyes over you, noticing the way his touch has you starting to melt already, how you’re looking up at him with your wide, needy eyes. “Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me, hm? How much you love seein’ me healthy, as you put it.”

You’re stunned into silence once again, jaw slack and pupils wide as you search his gaze for proof that he’s just messing with you, making fun of you just to watch you squirm. But you don’t find any.

“O-okay,” you agree in a half-whisper.

Joel smiles down at you, satisfied. “All these years later, still just the sweetest thing, ain’t you? You still just as obedient, too?”

You nod without even thinking, words catching up with your instinctual response a second later. “Mhm, yeah, I am…” You had forgotten how easy it is to submit to him, how good it feels to let the hypnotizing tone of his voice carry you somewhere far away from yourself, when you need it the most. Whether it was after a shitty day of working for shittier rations in the QZ, or after a harsh trek in harsher weather to a forested oasis, Joel always knows how to make you feel like submission is your most natural state.

“Good… Kneel for me please, sweetheart,” he commands, and you obey immediately, his hand slipping from your face as you slide from the couch onto the woven carpet beneath you. Like second nature, your hands automatically fold themselves on your lap, remembering how you were never to touch Joel until he permitted you to. He takes note of this, and praises you accordingly. “Look at that, didn’t even have to ask. Such a good girl.”

He’s so enamored with you, he almost forgets where he was going with this until he watches your eyes flash to the growing bulge in his jeans, then back up to him. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Was thinkin’ you could put that pretty mouth to use on somethin’ different this time, hm?”

You knit your brows together, not sure what he means, but he doesn’t let you wonder for long. Slowly, he starts to unbutton his flannel shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. He tosses it onto the ground, then pulls his undershirt off over his head, adding it to the other discarded clothing. Without the confines of his slightly-too-tight button-up, you can see how much he really has filled out. Everything about his upper body is just a little more plush, with petal pink stretch marks adorning the soft skin in various places. You want to make it your personal mission to kiss each and every one of them, commit their exact coordinates on his body to memory.

There's a deep scar, you notice, to the left of his belly button, that has almost successfully disguised itself as one of those pretty marks. It’s definitely new since you saw him last, and it looks like it hurt, especially with the evidence of how crudely it had been stitched back together.

“What happened?” you wonder aloud, worried eyes glued to the healed injury.

He has to peer over the curve of his belly to see what you’re looking at. “Long story. Happened on my way out here, after I left Boston. Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet girl, hardly even hurt. Forget it’s even there, most of the time,” he answers, still with a dominant edge to his voice that does a mostly good job of convincing you it’s the truth.

“Can… Can I?” you ask, waiting to receive his permission before you move your hands from your lap.

“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Joel allows.

You reach out a small hand to gently trace over the raised scar, then press your lips to it with your hands splayed out on either side of your head, just barely pressing into his belly. He releases a soft groan, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands, applying the lightest amount of pressure to let you know this is where he wants to keep you.

“Why don’t you keep goin’, sweetheart? Gimme some more lovin’ like that, know you wanna,” he encourages, and you think you get the idea now, what it is he wanted to put your pretty mouth to use for.

With his explicit permission to continue, you don’t need telling twice. You move your face to hover just in front of his belly button, admiring the dense salt and pepper happy trail that sprouts from where his jeans push into his soft skin. You drag your tongue along the hair, nipping at the soft curve of where it disappears into the divot in his stomach. He makes a noise in response, half pained and half pleasured, but he doesn’t stop you. Just for good measure, you place a kiss to the little blushing mark where your teeth had scraped him.

Almost of their own volition, it seems, your hands begin to knead at his stomach as you make good on your promise to yourself to kiss every single one of his stretch marks. You allow your tongue to dart from your mouth on the last one, and Joel sucks in a breath.

“Oh, fuck. Forgot how good that wet lil’ mouth feels on me, sweetheart. Keep goin’,” he says, voice coming out strained. His fingers curl tightly into your hair, and he begins to maneuver your face around his belly. You lave your tongue over his skin as he does, slicking him with wet, sloppy kisses. “Yeah, baby, you fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you like me like this.”

It’s a little humiliating, but just enough that you like the feeling. You’re breathing hard and fast, letting out little whimpers as your fluttering cunt begins to soak your underwear. He brings your face to a stop at the most tantalizing part of him, the part that truly evidences how much more he’s allowed himself to indulge since settling in Jackson. The ample curve of flesh that just barely conceals the waistband of his jeans, the part you’ve wanted to get your mouth on since you first saw how it strained the lower buttons of his shirt. You latch onto it, massaging the skin around it as you use your teeth and tongue to suck a mark into him.

A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and he curses under his breath. “Like it that much, huh? Fuck, naughty thing, look at you.”

You’re so fucking turned on, you’re shivering, rocking where you kneel and squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You let one of your hands drift to the hard shape in Joel’s jeans, and it seems he’s enjoying this as much as you are. He spots your pathetic little squirms as you rut against nothing, and then he’s using his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor.

“Got an idea. Up,” he commands roughly, and you detach your lips from his belly to obey his order. “Get these off, there we go.” He pulls down your sweatpants and underwear, helping you step out of them. “Christ, you’re soaked,” Joel teases, eyeing the sizable wet spot in your panties as he tosses them aside to join the other forgotten clothing. He reaches a hand toward the apex of your thighs, teasing your wet pussy and gathering some of your slick on two of his fingers. You let out a tiny yelp, but let him play with you, and then he’s bringing his fingers in front of his face and examining the sticky strings of your arousal when he spreads them apart. “All this just from lettin’ you worship all this, huh?” he taunts, patting his stomach once for emphasis. “Who’d’ve thought? Not that I’m complainin’...”

He quickly rids himself of his jeans and briefs, then reclines onto the couch with a quiet groan, stretching out his body along the length of it. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking as it bobs against his belly, his precum adding to the dampness still there from your tongue. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Joel says, softly, motioning with both of his hands for you to come closer.

You grip a hand onto the backrest of the couch to balance yourself while you move to straddle him, prepared to sink down onto his length for the first time in way too fucking long. “Uh uh, not there, baby,” he instructs, smirking when he sees how you hesitate in confusion. “Take a seat right here for me.” Again, he pats that most tempting area of his lower belly, and you just about fall apart at the sight of how his flesh ripples in the wake of it.

“Yeah, there you go, good girl,” he praises, both hands gripping your waist as he helps you settle your weight onto his soft abdomen.

“I dunno, don’t wanna hurt you–” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.

“You won’t, baby. I’m a big man, ain’t I?” he teases, flashing you a devilish and knowing smile. “Go on, sweetheart, ride it.”

You inhale a shuddering breath, then place both of your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. You start an experimental buck into his belly, and that trail of dark hair tickles your clit so perfectly. It takes a few tries for you to get the positioning and pressure just right, and then you’re truly riding him, using his full stomach to get yourself off while he watches.

“God, that’s good. Use it, baby. You love me bigger, love that I’ve been eatin’ so good, prove it to me, c’mon,” Joel goads, and it spurs you on to grind against him harder, faster, as incoherent mumbles and curses tumble from your lips.

“Love it, Joel, you look so good, fuck. So fucking–mmh–so big, makes me so… so–”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. Makes you fuckin’ soaked is what it does, god damn. You gonna get my belly all messy, hm? Gonna rub your lil’ cunt all over it, get me all fuckin’ wet?”

“Uh huh, yeah, gonna… I’m gonna–” you whine, eyes shutting tight as your hips pick up their pace. You move your hands from his shoulders to place them on his stomach instead, grabbing at handfuls of his tummy in an effort to create something more solid to rub yourself against.

You’re already embarrassingly close, the humiliating edge to your earlier worship having gotten you most of the way there on its own. So swollen and sensitive it almost hurts, you won’t need much more to reach your high.

“Not without me, you ain’t. Gonna be right there with ya. You remember how we used to do it?” Joel asks, as if you could ever forget. He’s referring to your many late nights, early mornings, in his bed or in a back alley or wherever in the QZ, where he liked to make sure you both finished at the same time. You’d always be the first one to reach the edge, because he’d focus all his attention on getting you there before him, just to make you wait. It was never something punishing, just something he liked to do as an extra bit of control and dominance, and he knew it always made your orgasms that much more powerful and satisfying when he would finally permit you to let go.

With your eyes closed, so focused on your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that he had reached behind you to start fisting his cock some time ago. But you can hear it now, the wet schlick of his hand moving up and down his shaft as he works himself. “Hold it for me, sweetheart, I know you can. Keep rubbin’ your pretty pussy against me, jus’ like that, almost there…”

You mewl, screwing your face up as you force yourself to slow down your thrusts, muscles tense as you try to keep your orgasm at bay for as long as you can.

Thankfully, he must be worked up enough from seeing you fall apart for him so easily for the first time in so long, that his permission comes just a few minutes later.

“Come for me, babygirl, soak my fuckin’ belly, c’mon,” Joel growls, and you fall forward immediately, twitching and spasming and crying out into the soft muscle of his shoulder as you ride out the shuddering shocks of your orgasm. He groans next to your ear as he comes, and you can feel the warm ropes of his own release as some of them land on your lower back. You’re both wet, heaving messes, as you embrace each other for the second time today and work on catching your breath.

So exhausted from the day you had, you must’ve fallen asleep against his chest as you laid there, because then you’re being woken up by the dull scratch of his fingertips against your scalp and his familiar voice working its way through the thick fog that clouds your tired brain.

“You alright, baby?” he asks, and you can hear that he’s smiling, amused at this sleepy little thing he’s got clinging to him.

“Mhm, jus’ tired,” you answer, a barely-there mumble of a sentence.

“I’ll bet… You wanna get cleaned up? Get all tucked into bed?”

You shake your head against his neck, and he chuckles.

“No? Whatcha wanna do then, hm?”

“Jus’ lay here. Missed you. Don’t wanna let… go…”

Your sentence drifts off into silence before the temptation of sleep allows you to finish it, but Joel gets the idea. He smiles to himself, kissing the top of your head, and hugs you closer. Both of you are still sticky and damp, but satisfied. And together again. And that’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

So he agrees, and you stay like that for the rest of the night. Joel doesn’t worry about whether or not he remembered to set his alarm clock for his extra patrol shift the next morning, or if he’ll even hear it all the way from his bedroom upstairs, because it doesn’t matter anyway. He has you, and you made it very clear tonight just how much you like him exactly the way he is.

Maybe, your rose garden can finally begin to bloom, now that the pair of you have somewhere safe and comfortable and healthy to try your hand at nurturing it again.

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

#my writing #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #daddy!joel miller #joel miller smut

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holybibly · 9 months ago

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BOTH | Yungi x reader

Genre: +18, MDNI, smut, fuck buddies, University!AU

Pairing: Ynho x reader, Mingi x reder

Word Count: 4.2 k

Summary: You've liked Yunho for a long time and don't mind having fun with him alone, but what if Mingi joins in? Well, you should play with both.

WARNING: light MxM, unprotected sex, fingering, choking, degrading, pet names, spit kink, size kink, face fucking, hair pulling, threesomes, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, oral, cum eating, overstimulation and more.

Holy Bunnies Tag list: @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism

A/N: My precious bunnies are having a special day. I'm here to treat you to something sweet and savoury. It's not much because I didn't have a lot of time today, but it's my hope that it's to your liking. And I know it's been your wish to have me do Yungi. Lots of love, my bunnies.

dividers @cafekitsune

As you ran your hand over his head, Yunho's blond hair felt so soft and silky under your fingers. Your tongue curled around his in a seductive way as his hands tightened on your hips, pulling up the already short dress that you were wearing. The kiss was heavenly—sweet but passionate—and you felt a little dizzy, or was it the amount of alcohol you'd had? As you sat on the table with your legs wrapped around his slender waist, pulling him closer to his neck, your kiss grew more intense and sloppy with each passing second.

You hadn't expected the night to end like this. But you hadn't come here to argue. After a long dance that felt more like a dry hump, in the middle of a drunken house party you'd both been invited to by your mutual acquaintances, you'd snuck into an empty bedroom for a hot kissing session that promised to escalate into equally hot, and you really hoped so, rough sex. Hell, you really wanted Yunho to blow your brains out; you could already feel how big and thick his cock was through his jeans, and you hoped that the boy would know how to make good use of it.

You'd liked Yunho for a long time—sweet as candy, but with that spicy sugar daddy flavour—definitely your type, so the possibility of being alone with him tonight seemed like a dream come true. The scenario was perfect; you'd spent the evening teasing each other, and when his gorgeous, wiry hands went under your dress as you danced, you knew exactly where it was going.

You couldn't tell who had given up first or how you had ended up in this bedroom, but that was of little interest to you at the moment. Especially when Yunho's big hand began to massage your breasts through your dress, you couldn't wait to feel those long fingers inside your pussy.

Just as you were about to undo the waistband of his jeans, you heard the bedroom door open. As you glanced in that direction, you rolled your eyes in irritation and pulled yourself away from Yunho's soft, flushed lips. With his arms crossed over his broad, muscular chest and the tip of his tongue poking the corner of his plump, sensual lips, Mingi leaned against the doorjamb with a cheeky grin.

"Don't mind me. Keep having fun, baby." His voice was deep and husky, sexy as hell, and your pussy clenched involuntarily at the sound. Shit. Mingi, locking the door behind him, walked over to the bed and collapsed on it, resting his hands on the mattress behind him and spreading his legs apart, a mischievous grin playing on his handsome face as he watched you and Yunho, who, by the way, was completely ignoring Mingi's presence, now planting hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses on your neck.

Song Mingi was a narcissistic bastard who knew he was incredibly attractive and sexy. You wanted to slap him to wipe that smug look off his face. Or, more likely, ride his big, thick cock to make him whimper and gasp. And you knew from experience that that was exactly what he was going to be like—hot and completely lost in pleasure.

"Mingi, not right now." You told him, screaming as Yunho's fingers rubbed your pussy through your lace panties; you were already incredibly wet from the blond man's confident caresses, and Mingi's presence only made you even more wet.

"Oh, the doll is getting feisty, isn't she? Wasn't that the way you were talking to me when my tongue was licking your pretty, tight cunt, or do you need a reminder of what you did last Saturday?" He licked his plump lower lip and reminded you with a cheeky grin. All in all, you weren't in need of a reminder; the way you were rolling on top of his face would be hard to erase from your memory.

That seemed to have finally gotten Yunho's attention, causing him to pull away from your neck, and oh, God, you were in a panic; you wanted that cock, and you weren't about to give it up because Mingi couldn't control his damn mouth.

"I had no idea you and Mingi were... together."

You muttered to yourself and rolled your eyes, getting annoyed. Fuck Song Mingi and his big mouth, and fuck you for even deciding to sleep with him last weekend. In your defence, you were very horny, and he looked like a wet dream in that sheer mesh top. And need you tell how juicy and delicious his thick thighs looked in those leather trousers that clung to him like a second skin?

Girl, there was no way you could resist that, even if you were a nun.

Fully prepared for him to turn and walk away, leaving you horny and unsatisfied, you looked longingly into Yunho's handsome face. But when you noticed that there wasn't an ounce of jealousy or annoyance in his features, you were genuinely surprised. His chocolate-honey eyes darted from you to Mingi, his eyebrows slightly raised in a silent question he didn't dare ask out loud. But the way his cock twitched against your thigh or the way his pupils dilated told you that Yunho knew exactly what he wanted. Oops, it turns out that Jeong Yunho wasn't as sweet and vanilla as you thought he was. And Mingi, well, Mingi was clearly the type with some damn spicy tastes.

"Since both don't care..." Mingi just shrugged his shoulders and got up from the bed to come over to you and Yunho.

And if you weren't reliving your most forbidden and wet dream right now, you wouldn't know what else to call it, because something about the way Mingi's long, ringed fingers grabbed Yunho's chin and pulled him in for a kiss clearly did something to you. Mingi's pierced tongue slipped between Yunho's slightly pink lips, and you were drooling, a new batch of viscous fluid pouring out of your pussy from the lewd show in front of you. The blond man's hands were on your body for a second, but it was only a moment before he responded to the rough kiss.

You knew how it felt. To see two fucking hot guys literally fucking each other in the mouth, and you were about to come just looking at that.

Mingi was the one who wanted to stop kissing Yunho; instead, he grabbed your hair and pulled you towards him for a hungry and aggressive kiss. It tasted like a mixture of champagne and raspberries to you, which was extremely sophisticated for Mingi's cocky appearance, but Song Mingi loved to surprise, and he was just as good at it as he was at fucking.

Without hesitation, you responded to the kiss and immediately let his long tongue enter your mouth and lick you from the inside out. Mingi's fingers tugged hard at your hair as he tried to drink your very soul through the bloody kiss, and Yunho's now impatient hands pulled your dress off your chest, the cold air of the room making your nipples instantly tense. You moaned into Mingi's lips as the blond man's fingers circled your nipple, tugging lightly. Watching the pink, swollen bud roll between Yunho's long fingers, growing harder and redder under his care, the brunet's eyes dropped.

His mouth filled with saliva and his cock twitched in anticipation; he could already feel pre-cum dripping from his swollen head.

"I must fuck you, or I'll lose my mind." Mingi growled as he pressed his forehead up against yours. You chuckled slightly at how quickly his insolence vanished as the prospect of getting his cock wet loomed.

"Guess you'll have to do that then, boys."

"Oh, that's exactly what we'll do, baby." Yunho whispered in your ear as he pressed his fingers to your clit. Oh shit. Was that honeyed voice always going to be so hoarse and dominant? God, there was a hidden threat in Jeong Yunho. "Bed, immediately." He ordered as he scooped you up in his arms and carried you over to the big bed that was neatly made up. You were already starting to imagine the mess that the three of you were going to leave behind.

Mingi was already sitting comfortably on the edge of the bed, and you pushed him onto his back, riding on his slutty, thin waist, trying to take the initiative, but he just grinned.

He grinned wickedly at your attempt at dominance, but let you do what you wanted. He pulled your dress off as you left hickeys on his neck. It didn't take long for you to be pulled up against Yunho's big, hot body, and the blond man greedily took your lips in a wicked, aggressive kiss. It looks like you won't be playing with him like a puppy tonight. While Yunho was devouring your mouth, Mingi was crawling off the bed to take off his trousers and his sleeveless top, which, in truth, left very little to the imagination.

"Oh my God, Yunho, I want to taste you." You said this as you broke the kiss and moved further down the bed, motioning for him to follow you. You pulled off his shirt and ran your hands over his smooth, milky skin, sure that by the end of the night you would have left him with countless hickeys and scratches as he stripped off his jeans and underwear. When he was comfortably settled on the bed, you found yourself between his spread legs and began to kiss his neck, slowly trailing kisses down the heaving ridges of his chest and below, sliding your tongue along the pronounced outline of his firm abs.

When your head reached his crotch, you looked up innocently through fluffy lashes, knowing exactly what drives men mad, and licked your lips hungrily, running your tongue in deliberate slow motion over the plump flesh, arching your spine as you arched your arse. Beautiful boys deserve nothing but the best service. And while you wanted to be bold and dirty with Mingi, you wanted to be a gentle and submissive princess for Yunho. To be showered with praise and fucked like there was no tomorrow. And that was definitely at the top of your list of things to do in life, at least for today.

Yunho stroked his big hand over your head as if he were caressing a kitten and pressed the back of your head so that your head sank down onto his hard, massive cock. And God, it was huge, thick, and wiry, with a big, reddened head that was already dripping with pre-cum. It was a real treat for an obedient girl.

"Come on, baby, don't be shy. Show me what a good girl you can be for me." You obediently hugged at the head of his cock with your lips, savouring the low, husky moan of his as your tongue circled around it and collected the brackish liquid. Your palm could barely encircle its length as you ran it up and down, feeling the heat and throbbing of his cock as you rubbed the thick, protruding vein several times. You smeared the pre-cum and drool that flowed from your open mouth onto his cock. Swirling your tongue around the velvet head to find out what he liked best, you concentrated all your efforts on that.

Yunho threw his head back, revealing the long, seductive length of his neck, and rolled his eyes in pleasure.

"Such a good girl; you'll let me fuck you in my mouth, won't you?" You moaned around him, sending pleasurable vibrations down the length of his cock, and relaxed your mouth to allow Yunho to push his hips up and push his thick cock deeper down your throat. As Yunho wrapped both hands around your head to hold you in place, you grabbed his hips and tried to find some stability, waiting for what would happen next. The next movement of his hips pushed the head of his cock against the back of your throat, and he let out a long moan as he felt your soft, wet throat tighten around him. The sound he was making was almost enough to make you come. "That's it." The low growl in his voice gave away the more sadistic part of his personality before he returned to honeyed tenderness as he held your face in place, pressing his balls against your chin. He enjoyed the way your eyes filled with tears and the soft gurgling sounds you made around him. "Take it like a good girl. You'd like me to be proud of you, wouldn't you? Then choke the hell out of it. Make Daddy proud." He moaned again as your hands dug into his meaty thighs. But Yunho was too intoxicated by the feeling of the walls of your throat contracting each time you swallowed around his cock to notice the vicious nail marks you left on his skin.

All of a sudden, you felt a pair of strong hands grab your hips from behind and dig their fingers into your soft flesh, leaving bruises in their wake. You were so lost in the way Yunho was fucking your mouth that you almost forgot that Mingi was there too. You didn't realise what you'd let yourself in for until Mingi's fingers started to pull your panties down until they were thrown somewhere on the floor. Your wet, pretty cunt was completely exposed to his gaze. As you felt Mingi's hot breath on your naked pussy, you couldn't hold back a loud moan. His fingers parted your soft pink folds before he took a long, slow lick of your pussy, his pierced tongue causing your hole to clench up from the action. A low purr vibrated in Mingi's chest as he tasted you on his tongue, weakly rubbing his thumb over your swollen clit as he plunged the tip of his tongue into your narrow entrance.

"You better squirt in my face, doll, or you won't get my cock." His plump lips touched your pussy with every word he said and for a moment you completely lost control, dulled by the sensation of Mingi licking and tonguing your cunt.

Taking advantage of your distraction, Yunho pressed harder his cock to your throat. You felt dizzy and tried to suppress your gag reflex as the thick, long cock plunged deeper. With each thrust, the outline of his cock began to bulge as he thrust against you. Yunho was definitely a wolf in sheep's clothing, and you thought Mingi had been rough with you the last time. The only thing that kept you motivated now was the gentle smile that flashed across the handsome face of the blond man as he continued to choke you with his cock.

And damn your praise kink, it made you want to give him even more pleasure. You wanted to be his good girl, the only girl who was able to warm up his big, fat cock so well in her mouth. And for his praise, as long as he kept looking at you with that gentle pride in his chocolate honey eyes, you were willing to let him get away with whatever he wanted.

You quickly regained your composure and relaxed your throat enough to let Yunho fuck you the way he wanted. You looked up again, looking for his approval, admiring the way he was breathing hard and hitching, the deep blush spreading across his cheeks and neck. And the way he was concentrating on Mingi, who was literally drinking your pussy as if he was dying of thirst. But apparently that's not enough for him, because you feel Mingi release your hips for a second, only for him to change position - and now your now swollen cunt is hovering over his face. A loud slap on your buttocks makes you whimper and drool all over Yunho's cock as he mercilessly fucks your mouth like his personal cock sleeve.

"Now lower your sweet cunt right on my face and ride like an obedient girl. Do you understand me, dolly?" The cold metal ball barely touched your clit as he spoke, his hot breath blowing around your folds. Mingi mumbled approvingly beneath you as you moaned and pressed your pussy against his face. "And remember baby. First you squirt - then I fuck you." Without warning, two long fingers with massive rings entered you, stretching your warm silky walls. Your pussy sucked them in with need as Mingi's lips encircled your clit, sucking it into his mouth, his tongue immediately beginning to flick across the sensitive flesh. Oh, fuck.

The stimulation makes you almost buckle at the knees and pushes your cunt even harder against his face. Mingi is sucking hard on your clit, pressing down on it with his piercing as he continues to stretch you with his fingers, his other hand guiding your hips to help them roll over his face.

Hell, he might not mind dying between your legs; your cunt was so perfect—sweet and plump and pink, and God, he loved every moment of it. When his fingers found your golden centre and began to rub relentlessly, you rolled your eyes in pleasure and moaned softly. The vibrations of your voice made Yunho shiver.

Holding back a wry grin as he watched you gasp for breath, a mixture of saliva and tears dripping down your face, he finally let go of you and pulled you away from his cock. Yunho let you struggle to catch your breath, but you failed to breathe. But you hadn't had a chance to breathe when Mingi's tongue began rubbing against your clit with renewed vigour, causing you to roll forward, face against Yunho's thigh. "Look at you. You're so damn beautiful for us, aren't you? Pretty girl, you will do as you are told and come all over Mingi's face, won't you?" Yunho strokes your hair lovingly as he watches the brunette suck your pussy like a leech. The room fills with obscene slurps and squelches, punctuated by a mixture of Mingi's deep moans and your weak whimpers, and Yunho wouldn't mind taking his place now and licking you clean, and maybe he'll do it later today.

Mingi releases your clit from his lips to run his tongue greedily around the edges of your stretched-out hole a couple of times before he pulls his fingers out with an obscene squelch and replaces them with his talented pierced tongue, fucking you fast and hard until your walls are closing in around him.

"Oh, shit. Fuck, Mingi. Fuck!" You curse as you feel his plump lips curl into a smug and lecherous smile. He swirls his tongue inside your hole, dragging the metal ball on his tongue along your sensitive, trembling walls. He eats you like a fucking animal, growling into your pussy and thrusting harder, his sharp nose rubbing against your clit.

"Tastes good, doesn't it?" Yunho asks, licking his lips as if he's trying to taste you, and Mingi just moans in response, lapping up your juices as if it were his last meal on earth. You begin to feel the familiar tension building in your belly with every passing second. The sharp tip of Mingi's tongue pierces your walls, and his nose rests against your clit. Your hips start to shake, you start to stiffen, and your pussy clenches to hold the hot, slippery appendage inside.

"Damn, Mingi, I'll cum." You moan in a hoarse voice, and he slaps your arse so hard it makes you squeal. You can feel him grinning into your cunt before his teeth brush against your clit and he bites into a bundle of nerves in an experimental way.

You squeal so loudly that it seems the whole house can hear what you're doing, and to be honest, you don't really care. Let the bitches be jealous; the boys are yours. Right now, one of the hottest boys in the world is Song. Mingi is fucking your pussy with his amazing tongue, and the big fat cock of the most beautiful boy in the whole university is rubbing sweetly against your cheek. Mingi is purring softly, like a contented giant cat, as you rub your helpless body against his face. You flex your hips, squeeze his face between your legs, and force his lips into a curl in order to stimulate your hole.

The whole of your body was on fire and in the sky at the same time. Mingi's huge hands gripped the small of your back, and his own breathing became ragged as you rode on his face and shamelessly screamed out his name. Your whole body tensed like a cord; you sobbed heavily, the tears dropping from your face onto Yunho's thigh, to which you were still clinging, your thighs trembling with pleasure. You were nearing orgasm, the hot sensation of release bubbling under your skin like boiling water. As Mingi slammed the palm of his hand down on your plump buttocks once more, causing the soft flesh to tremble and blush, you came. The orgasm was absolutely devastating, with your juices pouring into his hungry mouth and Mingi gobbling them up greedily, but it still wasn't what he was looking for from you.

You had to squirt, and Mingi was not going to stop until you did. He lifted your hips off of his face, only to have two of his fingers dive into the tightness of your cunt. You gasped for breath and tried to pull away from him, squealing and biting at Yunho's thigh. With his other hand, Mingi pressed you against his face, while he continued mercilessly and roughly fingered your over-excited pussy, now flowing like a waterfall.

Mingi pulled away from your clit with a wet bang, then flattened his tongue and used a small metal ball to stimulate your tortured clit. You felt the onset of a second orgasm, and your walls tightened around Mingi's fingers, the heavy, solid rings pressing against your plush flesh. His wet lips and chin opened and closed slowly as he breathed heavily and continued to torment you.

"Come on, sweetie, squirt on his face so I can finally fuck you. Fucking princess, come for us." Yunho growls as he wraps his fingers around your cheeks and turns your face around so that you're looking at him. "Make your daddy proud." The tone of his voice and the demand itself send you over the edge of euphoria as you shake your whole body and experience an embarrassingly intense orgasm, splashing Mingi's chin and lips with your juices as he swallows them with a satisfied smile. Mingi presses your hips up against his face and helps you through a powerful orgasm, your eyes rolling.

Your eyes are rolling up, your mouth is opening, and your tongue is flicking out. You're so fucked already, and they haven't even fucked you right, but fuck you want them to, and even if you pass out somewhere along the way, you'll be riding their dicks tonight.

Mingi rests his nose against your pubic bone for a second and lets out a heavy sigh before he picks you up and climbs out from underneath you. He gives you and Yunho one of his stupid, drunken smiles and licks his lips in satisfaction. Your juices run down his face, neck, and slowly rising chest as he crawls up to your face. But instead of giving you the attention you crave, his lips press against Yunho's in a completely wild and aggressive kiss that can hardly be called a kiss—it's all tongues and teeth.

When Yunho pulls away from him, he curves his beautiful lips loathingly.

"You bastard."

"You're the one who wanted to know what she tastes like. I'm just giving you a taste of heaven." Then he leans down and presses her wet lips to the side of his ear. "The doll can suck your cock as much as you want, but I'm going to be the one who drinks her pussy."

"I think you should stop measuring dicks and give me a good fuck instead, or should I find someone else to do it with?" You raised your head to look at them. Seeing the shocked look on their pretty faces after your words, a small smile formed on your lips.

"Looks like the doll is getting a little cocky, huh?" Mingi said to you as he pulled your boddy up to his chest.

You could feel Yunho's lips pressing against your ear before he whispered to you in his honeyed, sultry voice.

"Baby, if you misbehave, I'll have to punish you, and I have a feeling you won't be able to walk by the time I'm through with you."

"We'll be done." Mingi corrected him.

"Well, I guess I should just keep going and see what you can do. Because I'm pretty sure I can handle both of you."

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k3n-dyll · 9 months ago

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Vouyer [Abby A.]

||Men, minors, and ageless DNI

CW: 18+, wlw, a lot of porn - a pinch of plot if you squint and turn your head, subbottom!abby, domtop!reader, Abby getting caught, masturbation, voyeurism cus reader watches her for a hot minute, fingering(A!receiving), tribbing, perv!reader and perv!abby kinda, overstimulation, Abby cries a lil bit

AN: I feel like my brain fizzed out near the end idk. I think I'm cooked. Anyways, hope this doesn't suck ass as much as my brain is telling me it does!

Masterlist. Divider creds DON'T FORGET ABOUT PALESTINE

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ "Just like that- fuck" the words escape her lips, sounding strained and breathless. A thin layer of sweat coats her toned body as she fills herself up to the best of her ability, her thick fingers ramming in and out of her used, sloppy cunt as she chases her orgasm for the third time tonight.

This was not how she had planned for her night to go, but if you could have only seen just how pretty you'd looked; drenched in sweat from head to toe, clothes sticking to every curve of your bruised and bloodied body after such a close call on patrol earlier that day. She'd almost compromised herself just to get a glimpse of you looking like that. Her piercing blue eyes tracked your every movement, once the threat - a pack of infected that had attacked while you were both searching for supplies - was gone.

Or at least she'd thought they were at the time until she felt a pair of gnarled and decaying hands grab onto her shoulders. She killed the thing herself, of course, knocking the stalker off balance with one hard whack of a steel pipe before throwing it onto the ground, forcing the heel of her boot down onto its sprouting head with a splat. Not realizing that it was you she had been distracted by, you gave her a disapproving eye roll and she winced.

It was her own fault you weren't that fond of her, the blonde has ignored you since you first showed up at the WLF a few months back. Even when you became roommates, Abby's demeanor towards you was always cold and disinterested. It was stupid but she figured it was best. She was unable to even think about saying a word to you without her palms sweating. She just knew she'd fuck up and stumble over her words, making herself look weak in front of you and she couldn't have that.

When Abby learned that you were going to spend part of your night drinking with Manny, Owen, and Nora, she took the opportunity to lie.

" 'm tired. Think I'm gonna just go to bed" she had mumbled, feigning exhaustion, going so far as to force a yawn out before she walked back to the room. Alone.

The girl didn't make it five minutes without touching herself, getting comfortable in bed, and shoving her hand down her underwear. Dumbly, she figured that maybe if she just got off once, she could get the image of you out of her brain.

That was how she got where she is now. Naked, driving her middle and ring fingers as deep as she can get them, pumping them in and out of her cunt, her other hand joining as she rubs feverishly over her sensitive clit. The scene is downright pornographic, the sloshing sounds coming from Abby's body as she fucks herself stupid on her own fingers, her jaw slack, your name spilling from her soft lips in sinful prayer.

She wants it to be you so bad, it's almost pathetic.

She can't bring herself to stop - she just knows it'd feel so much better if your hands replaced her own and the rest of her body seems to agree with that thought. So much so that every time she tries to stop or give herself a break that ache comes back full force, a heartbeat forming between her thick thighs. It gets so bad that she considers walking to your side of the room and grabbing one of your t-shirts because at this point your scent could get her there.

"Jus' one more, one more, baby pleasepleaseplease - holy shit"

That third orgasm hits Abby like a truck, her begging eventually becoming a mess of incoherent babbling under her breath, her body twitching as she comes down from her high. Again. And again, it isn't enough. She can't take her mind off of just how fucking good you would look on top of her - god - the mere thought of having your pretty pussy slotted up against hers is enough to make her crave more.

Abby lets out a deep sigh and plops her head back down onto the pillow underneath her as she tries to catch her breath, thinking maybe she should just try to sleep it off. Despite her better judgement though, she finds herself with the pads of her fingers back on her puffy, pulsing clit, stroking herself in languid circular motions.

You stood in the entryway of your room, peeking your head in the door to watch as Abby fucking Anderson of all people split herself on her fingers, letting out the prettiest moans as she chases her release. You knew that you should probably just close the door and quietly sneak away. Go back to the mess hall with your group, maybe pretend you forgot something, and then conveniently "lose track of time" while you were there so that your roommate could finish her little "session".

You really were going to leave. As a matter of fact, you were halfway through closing the door when you heard something that made you stop in your tracks. It was Abby.

And she was moaning your name.

The sound was unmistakable as it was one of the only words you were able to fully recognize through her stupor of bated breaths and blissed-out whining. The frigid, unstoppable force of a soldier that had been ignoring your existence for months was actually begging for you, crying out your name over and over again as she fucked herself.

You found yourself biting your lip at the sound, and before you knew it, you were tip-toeing all the way into your shared room. You practically held your breath as you closed the door behind you, freezing completely once it clicked shut and lightly punching the air in silent celebration once you had confirmed you managed to sneak in undetected.

It was all so perverted, and yet you couldn't stop staring

You were leaning up against the wall beside the door, trying your best to be quiet and resist the urge to shove your hand down your own pants as you watched Abby's naked body convulse under her fingers when she came, eyes trailing over her body as she rode out her high.

It became clear pretty quickly that she'd been at this for a while, unable to satisfy herself completely. You watched as she began to start herself up again, her hand making its way back down between her thighs, her legs twitching still from her previous climax. From what you can see of her face, she seems a bit frustrated, her eyebrows knotted together in almost anger as she lazily works her fingers on her clit. She looks and sounds so precious that, before you can fully think it through, you speak.

"Still not finished?"

Abby nearly falls out of her bed with how quickly she shoots upward, covering herself with her blanket, a deep red blush fanning out along her freckled cheeks. It doesn't take much for her to realize that you heard her, your expression telling her everything she needed to know.

"I was, uh-..."

"Yeah, I heard...and saw" you interrupt, making your way over to the blonde's bed, unable to contain your amusement at the situation as your eyes trail over her.

" 'S this why you've been avoiding me, baby?"

She just stares at you, not fully knowing why she can't bring herself to do anything - to deny your suspicion, yell at you, or do something that would make her stop feeling so vulnerable right now. But she just looks up at you, mouth slightly agape.

"You could have just asked me for some help with that if you wanted it, y'know." you continue, gently gripping her under her chin to make her look at you.

Her jaw clenches, and for a moment, Abby considers pulling away from you. Getting mad and reasserting her dominance or something but you both know that isn't going to happen. You catch a glimpse of her fingers, glistening and wrinkly from how long she's been trying to get herself off, and your suspicions are confirmed which only emboldens you to go further. You lean down a bit closer, your face so close to hers that your noses nearly touch.

"You can't satisfy yourself no matter how hard you try, can you?"

Abby squirms a little but she shakes her head slightly in response, eyes breaking contact with yours but your hand never releases her jaw. You've never seen her look this exposed before - not only in terms of her nakedness but she just looked so vulnerable and small right now, despite her actual size.

You press a kiss to her lips, and she practically melts into you, allowing you to lay her back down on the mattress and crawl on top of her, your hand caught in her loosened braid. The other hand wanders down between her legs, eager to feel the sticky mess that shes turned herself into over the thought of you.

The sweet little whines she gives you as you circle your fingers along her clit are so unfamiliar coming from her but oh so welcome as opposed to her usual stoicism. You almost feel bad for the fact that shes had to wait for so long to finally get that release shes in desperate need of. A release that can only seem to be triggered by your hand.

If Abby wasn't already embarrassed for having been caught, she was sure as hell embarrassed with how quickly you got her to cum on your fingers. You've barely gotten the chance to get them inside of her before her irises roll back, head thrown onto the pillow beneath her as her body twitches in ecstasy.

"S-sorry, I-"

You see her begin to apologize but she's cut off completely at the sight of you sucking her essence off of your fingers, her words being yanked right from her mouth as her arousal comes back with a force. She knows she's way too sensitive to do anything else, but the thought of saying no to you right now doesnt even cross her mind as an option once you start pulling off your clothes.

It's all she can do to keep her hands to herself while you strip. Those vivid blue eyes are glued to your body, enamored by the perfection being uncovered in front of her. You place yourself back on top of her, hiking her leg up over your shoulder and lowering yourself until her cunt is pressed flush against your own. You let out a simultaneous groan at the feeling, grinding yourself down onto her with little regard for how sensitive she is.

"Hnmn- fuck" Abby's hips buck upward involuntarily, her body telling her that she's had enough, but it feels too good to stop.

She couldn't tell you it was too much if she wanted to anyway, every attempted word coming out of her mouth as incoherent whines and half-finished syllables. You watch her face intently as a few tears begin to make their way down her reddened cheeks and it only makes you pick up the pace, pressing wet kisses against the side of her calf as your clit perfectly ruts against hers with each thrust.

"You've wanted this so fuckin' bad, haven't you?" You tease her through gritted teeth, the words spilling out without much thought.

"Want me to fuck you till you cant fuckin breathe, hm?"

All that comes out of Abby in response are breathless "yes's" all jumbled into one word followed desperate little whines, her fingernails digging into the flesh of your hips as if she's afraid you'll stop if she lets go.

"G'na cu- ohmygod" she tries to warn but the poor girl can barely think. You hear her loud and clear though, making a point to apply a bit more pressure, the sloppy noises coming from your bodies moving against one another in tandem bringing you close as well.

The orgasm that results sends electricity through your body, pleasure that's only heightened by the uncontained scream that pulls from Abby's throat when she cums with you, drenching your inner thighs even more. She doesn't even seem to care if anyone hears her, too fucked out to even try to keep her mouth shut. Mercifully, you take the responsibility away from her, crashing your lips onto hers and muffling the sound in the hard, wet kiss.

The euphoria lingers even after you've slowed to a stop, heavy, labored breathing and Abby's soft whimpers the only sounds that occupy the room. A low chuckle escapes you as you pepper soft kisses along her cheeks, your thumb accompanying to wipe up her pretty tears.

AN: One thing I suck at doing is thinking of a way to fuckin close these

reblogs appreciated☆requests open

Almost forgot, taglist: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery, @ikoinsblog

#lesbian #wlw #☆kennie's works #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x female reader #abby the last of us #the last of us #abby tlou2 #tlou2 smut #tlou2

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mermaidgirl30 · 6 months ago

Text

✨Dark Shades of Innocence Lost Part 3: Take It All✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: This series is quickly becoming one of my favorites to write. Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for beta reading for me 🥰

Chapter Summary: Another night back at Club Inferno comes with more than you bargained for. There’s pleasure, but something else starts slipping through. That something might be feelings.

Rating: Explicit 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 6.8k

Tags: Dom! Joel, soft! Joel, flirting, feelings, pining, unprotected piv, fingering, so much filth, a little angst, Joel takes you on the pool table

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

“Shut up! No he didn’t!” Brianna screams over the rim of her cold glass of strawberry wine.

“Yeah,” you giggle as Taylor joins in on the screaming chaos.

“You mean to tell me that man took you into his private room and went down on you?” Taylor asks excitedly as she pauses 10 Things I Hate About You and sets the black controller on the rustic coffee table.

�� “Mhm,” you hum shyly over a mouthful of bubbling wine.

Brianna leans forward on the violet couch and curls her fingers into the velvet of her cotton blanket. “Did he make you come?” she asks with raised eyebrows, like she’s investigating you for anything you might be keeping from her.

You swallow some wine and clear your throat as your cheeks turn a bright red color. “Three times,” you say shyly as you push a lock of hair behind your ear.

Brianna spits out a mouthful of wine into her glass, and Taylor nearly falls off the edge of the couch. “No he did not, shut the fuck up!” Brianna shouts as she reaches over and grabs onto your pink blanket that’s sprawled across your lap freely.

“Three times? Holy shit,” Taylor whispers as her green flecked eyes grow wide.

“Three times,” you confirm as you push your back into the soft cushions of the couch. “And I may have deep throated him…” you giggle out as your cheeks grow hot.

“You little slut!” Brianna teases as she jumps out of her seat and joins you on the opposite side of the sectional. “Three times? God, that must’ve been amazing. And his cock? Was he big?”

“So big,” you gush as you sip more of the cool beverage in your hand.

“You lucky girl! Evan doesn’t even make me orgasm three times,” Taylor whines as she leans over and grabs a handful of buttery popcorn. “He must like you a lot.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” you say skeptically as you play absentmindedly with the fringe on the end of the soft blanket.

“Don’t play coy with me!” Taylor shouts across the end of the sofa, glittering eyes all on you as she waits for you to continue. “So, what happened after?”

You rake a hand nervously over your thigh and look up innocently. “Well, it was kind of weird, I guess. He, ummm… he cuddled with me. Like in a soothing, gentle way, and he told me to relax because I was tense. And I just kinda sank down into his chest while his fingers brushed over my arms. And it just felt… safe.”

Brianna and Taylor give each other a knowing glance, one only shared between the two of them. You know that look, the serious and concerned look.

“Babe,” Brianna says gently as she puts a hand softly on your knee, “that’s called aftercare. It’s normal, or it should be.”

“Yeah, I know. It just kinda startled me. I wasn’t… expecting that, you know? It kinda scared me.”

Brianna nods your way and keeps her light brown eyes on yours. “Yeah, I get it. But not all the guys are going to be like… well, you know who. It sounds like Joel is a good guy. From the sounds of it, he seems to like you a lot.”

You smile warmly as you look back down and nod your head while you twist your fingertips into the edge of your silky shorts. “Maybe. He got me chicken and water after he cuddled with me. He didn’t even have chicken in the back of the club before last week. I kinda complained there weren't any food options at the bar, and I guess he took it to heart.”

“What the hell, that man does like you!” Taylor screams across the way which nearly sends you into shock. “Chicken? He made you chicken? One of your favorite things to eat? That’s insane, and you didn’t even have to ask. Yes, babe! He likes you a lot! I don’t know another man that would do that. None of my hookups ever went that far for me. Seriously, I’m so happy we pushed you to go talk to him.”

You giggle out and shake your head, flipping your phone over in your shaking hands as you think of those smoldering dark eyes and devilish smirk. “I’m glad you guys made me go talk to him. He’s ummm… pretty great.”

Taylor throws a sequenced teal pillow at your arm and talks through a mouth full of popcorn, “Are you gonna see him again?”

“Yeah, Saturday,” you blush as you smile nervously her way.

“Oh, look at you! Gonna go back to his playroom while he has his way with you? Kinky girl. God, it’s like something out of Fifty Shades.”

“Bri!” you laugh as you shove her in the shoulder while she nearly spills her wine all over her lap. “It’s not like that.”

“No? So the man didn’t have you ride his thigh in a dark hallway where anyone could see, and he didn’t take you back to his private room and give you the best three orgasms of your life?”

“I mean, yes, but no! He’s not like some intense BDSM man. He’s warm, gentle, a bit of a dom, and the man says absolute filth, but he’s so… sweet, too.”

Taylor and Brianna raise their eyebrows at you and smirk. Oh no. That can’t be good. Who knows what kind of insanity is about to come out of their mouths.

“Sounds like he’s the perfect Christian Grey then, yeah?” Taylor laughs while you throw the pillow back at her.

“You guys are too much,” you smile.

Suddenly, your phone lights up as it buzzes in your lap. You unlock the screen, and your eyes light up like a Christmas tree when you see Joel’s name scrolled across the screen. You giggle like a little school girl who’s about to get a handful of candy when you read his text.

Joel: Passed by the library today on my way to work. Made me think of you. Almost stopped in, but figured you’d already be off. Maybe I should’ve tried my luck. Might’ve got to see those beautiful eyes of yours in the sunlight. See ya Saturday, angel. ;)

You can’t stop smiling, your cheeks feel like they’re stretched to their limit as you curl your toes underneath you and squeeze your fingers around the delicate blanket. Joel sure knows how to make your heart flutter uncontrollably.

“What are you beaming about, hmm? Is it Mr. Club Owner?” Taylor laughs from the other side of the couch.

“Let’s see.” Brianna snatches your phone from your clutch, and you try to dive for it, but she holds it up to where you can’t reach.

“Bri, give it!”

“Oh, I was right. It is him! And holy shit is he obsessed with you. Look at how cute this text is, Taylor!” Brianna tosses it to Taylor, and she catches it with ease as she scrolls through your numerous texts with Joel.

Taylor practically loses it as she chokes on a sip of wine. “He called you beautiful! He can’t wait to see you again? And Christ, you guys have been texting a lot. Fuck me!”

You lean forward and grab the phone from her prying fingers and set it down underneath your fuzzy blanket. “Okay, guys. You had your fun. Happy?” you ask annoyed, rolling your eyes as you try to hide the flush of crimson that’s bright on your cheeks.

“Umm yeah, babe! He is totally into you!” Brianna squeaks as she tosses a piece of buttered popcorn your way. You dodge it and shake your head at her while she sets down her fizzy drink on the edge of the polished coffee table.

“You think so?” you giggle, biting your lower lip.

“I know so! Ugh, you’re so lucky. Love this for you, though,” Brianna smiles, tipping the wine glass back to her pink lips.

You sigh and shake your head as you listen to your two friends scream back and forth excitedly at each other. You just sit back and take another sip of wine and stare at Joel’s sweet message. Saturday can’t come soon enough.

Saturday comes faster than a blink as you’re standing in front of the flashing sign of Club Inferno. You shift your weight in your sparkly heels and adjust the short pink dress that barely covers half your thighs. You don’t mind dressing up if it means Joel Miller can’t take his eyes off you for one second. That’s what you want. You want his attention, and you have it. You have all of it.

When you walk through the dark doors, you’re shrouded in a mist of smoke. The stench of messy lipstick and alcohol surrounds you, and the spinning disco ball shimmers over your sparkly eyeshadow. It’s crowded tonight, bodies lined all on the dance floor, music coursing through your ears. It pumps the adrenaline that fills your shaky body because you know why you’re here. You’re here for Joel.

You spin in a circle, clicking your heels on the shiny floor as you look from the crowded bar to the sea of dancers. Joel, where is Joel? Maybe he’s…

You hear a man clearing his throat from behind you and then a long Southern drawl fills your ears. “Lookin’ for Joel, sweetheart?”

You abruptly turn, whipping your hair behind your shoulders as you eye the man who asked you about Joel. You blink once, twice as you take him in, a little surprised at how similar he seems to Joel. He’s tall, long slicked back almost black hair, the same chocolate eyes as Joel’s, even a similar smirk takes the stage.

You shift your weight to your left, notice the expensive leather boots he’s wearing, a silky black button-up shirt tucked into pressed dress pants, and a handsome face to go with the outfit. He definitely reminds you a lot of Joel, and his accent, the same Southern accent as Joel’s. Was this his brother?

“Huh, Joel?” you ask stunned, blinking up at the tall figure that now stands in front of you, hovering like he’s pressing for answers.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, nodding to the hallway. “Saw you with Joel the past couple of weekends. Figured you were lookin’ for him tonight as well.”

“How did you…”

He interrupts, holding his hand out for you to take. “Apologies, I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m Tommy. Tommy Miller, Joel’s younger brother, the other owner of this club.”

You take his strong hand in yours and let him shake, giving him a curt smile and a nod. “It’s nice to meet you, Tommy. Nice to put a face to the name.” You tell him your name, and he smiles at you.

He drops your hand and slides it in the pocket of his pants, giving you a quick once over to assess your outfit, an almost invisible smirk appearing over his dark mustache. “My brother treatin’ you good, I reckon? Takin’ care of ya?”

Before you can respond back with flushed cheeks, a big hand comes down on Tommy’s shoulder and out steps Joel with a wide grin on his face, a deep chuckle dropping off his tongue as he looks you dead in the eye.

“Yeah, Tommy. Takin’ real good care of her, don’t you worry.” The response makes you blush and tingle all along your spine, creating a girlish giggle in your chest that you hold in once you meet the chocolate eyes of Joel Miller, the prettiest brown eyes you have ever seen in your life.

“Don’t I know it, Joel,” Tommy says with a big grin, hitting his brother playfully in the chest before he steps back with the glow of his cell phone lighting up his palm. “Well, guess I’ll let you get to it. Take care, sweetheart.” He whispers something in Joel’s ear, something along the lines of “Beautiful girl. Lucky you, brother.”

Joel claps his hand on the back of his shoulder and shakes his head. “Down, Tommy. Why don’t you go find one for yourself,” he chuckles, stepping out to hook his arm in yours. “Guess you’ve met my brother now.”

“Yeah,” you smile, looking back to see Tommy give you a playful wink and then head towards the bar as he delves into talking with customers lined against the glossy black front doors. “Seems nice.”

“Mmm. Nice. Sure, but he’s a flirt and a pain in my ass,” he chuckles, leading you through a loud group of females drinking cocktails and gossiping to each other.

He stops a second to turn towards you, eyes flicking up and down your body, a little shimmer of excitement reaching his honey eyes. And then he smiles. “You look real pretty tonight, sweetheart.”

You blush, clear your throat and turn to look up at him. “Thank you,” you stammer. “And you. Well, you’re always handsome,” you blush again, biting your tongue when he smirks your way.

He does look handsome tonight. With his clean white button-up, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, always hugging his bulging biceps, and his dark jeans that cling to tight muscles. And his slicked back curls, and his salt-and-pepper scruff, and his gorgeous chocolate eyes and fuck. You like it all, you like everything about him. And deep down that scares you, like sharp teeth could wrap around your ankles and drag you down under the dark waves. Like this could end badly. So badly.

He yanks you out of your murky thoughts and leads you under more sparkling lights, pink signs flashing every which way, more than the crimson reds you first saw here.

You glance at the sea of dancers, bodies swaying and circling every which way, the disco ball throwing glittering lights over pressed suits and skimpy dresses. The song is upbeat, loud, humming across the ray of bodies lined on the dance floor. And it pulls you in, like you want to join in the madness.

“Do you ever dance?” The question leaves your mouth before you can even think of what you just asked. Of course he doesn’t. He’s the club owner, why would he do that?

“Sometimes,” he replies, chocolate eyes flashing towards the sea of people dancing with each other.

He looks down at you, raises a brow, and a question slides over his flecks of chocolate desire. “Why do you ask?” He’s leaving the question open, like he wants you to be the brave one and ask. He’s trying to get you out of your closed up shell, wants you to take initiative for once. And maybe you should. Maybe you should just give in.

His eyes bore into yours, eyebrow raising higher on his forehead, sharp lines cutting across tanned skin. “Umm no reason. I was just wondering what kind of dancer you were,” you say nervously, your free hand clinging to the fabric of your pink dress, glossy lips puckering with a fit of nerves. He wouldn’t, would he?

He chuckles, a sly smirk spreading across his mouth as he takes your hand and nods his head to the dance floor. “Guess we gotta go find out then, hmm?”

He pulls you through the crowded dance floor, past sweaty bodies, the flashing lights blinding your senses as he pulls you into his broad chest in a small corner, his back hitting the glittery dark walls while he pulls you flush to his chest, his hands sliding slowly down to your hips.

You gulp, completely breathless as he chuckles and starts to sway his hips to the rhythm, eyes locked tight on yours. Your fingers clutch around his cotton dress shirt, the air feeling thicker with every breath you take, a burning sensation starting between your thighs with every movement he makes.

He slides one hand dangerously close to your ass, the other entwining with your fingers, your hips magically doing exactly what he tells you to, like he’s using mind powers on your body. And you’re in a trance, a magnetic trance, all forces of gravity pulling you towards him like this is where you belong, beneath his body.

“So, how am I doin’, darlin’? My dancing up to par?” he smiles, teasing you in the best way.

“I’d say you’re a better dancer than I took you for,” you laugh, feeling the heat collide between your fingers with each touch he leaves on your skin.

“Haven’t even shown you the best part yet,” he smirks.

He spins you around quickly, pulling your back flush against his beating chest, hands skating across your body as he takes it even further, moving your hair to the side and slowly gliding his lips against your collarbone, enough to where you can smell, almost taste that addictive whiskey smell that trademarks Joel.

You get lost in the way his hips grind into yours, thick fingers dancing over the fabric of your dress, his breath blowing down your neck, causing stars to form in the flecks of your eyes.

He leans down and glides his plush lips across the shell of your ear, one large hand sliding up your thigh, thick fingers teasing your dress line, slowly inching it up until he teases the inside of your thigh, making slick run like a river against your lace.

“You know, you look mighty pretty in that little pink dress, sweetheart, but I think you’d look even better out of it,” he whispers, making you jolt from the filthy words that come out of his mouth.

“You think so?” you pant while he pulls you even closer, enough to feel the growing bulge in his pants as he grinds against you.

“Mmm, I do. I do.” He sinks his mouth down on your neck, stifling a moan from your throat as he nips and sucks the sensitive area, right where you have that sweet spot.

His hand brushes higher, pushing your dress dangerously high as his magnetizing lips set your skin ablaze. He knows what he’s doing, getting you all worked up so you’ll be more than ready for him. And you’re there, you’re already so fucking wet. He might as well just take you here in front of everyone. You think you’d let him, don’t even care who watches. You’re just so turned on that you can’t even register what song is buzzing against your eardrums, all you hear, all you feel is his hot breath and calloused fingers on your skin. And his lips melting like honey on your skin. It feels fucking incredible.

“Know you must be so wet for me, sweetheart. The way your shallow breaths and body’s reactin’ to me. Oh, you’re right there, ain’t ya? So fuckin’ wet,” he growls, slipping his thumb against your soaked panties until another moan comes collapsing from your glossy lips.

“Mmmm. Take me to the back, Joel. Need to… need to…” You lose your train of thought as his fingers drop from your thigh, snatching your wrist up and dragging you back to the room where he’ll have his way with you.

“Don’t have to ask me twice, angel. Gonna take real good care of ya, pretty girl,” he purrs in your ear while his hand clasps around your wrist, pulling you through the sea of crowded bodies on the dance floor.

You let the music thrum through your eardrums, let him drag you down the dark hallway, let your body buzz with the endless possibilities of you and him. All you see is him in the mirage of flashing and sparkling lights as he leads you down down down until he’s pulling you into the room that’ll be your dark awakening.

The first thing you see when you enter the dim room is the little coffee table packed with two cold water bottles, a glass of whiskey on the rocks, a mixed fruity drink just for you, and a cloth towel just sitting in waiting for the two of you.

“You really thought of everything, didn’t you?” you ask as he hands you your drink. You take a sip from the citrusy goodness and let the cherry, coconut flavor slide down the back of your throat blissfully.

He takes a gulp of his whiskey on ice and nods his head to you as he wets his bottom tongue. “Figured we’d skip the crowded bar, have a little alone time.” The way he says alone makes nerves run down your spine because you know what that’ll lead to.

“Your drink okay?” he asks, cocking his head to the right, honey eyes wading into yours.

“It’s perfect. Thanks,” you mutter, trying not to get lost in the shimmer of his captivating smile.

You take a few more sips and then set it down, letting your heels click across the polished floor, right to the edge of the large pool table. You let your fingertips run along the wooden sides, gently skate your hand across the red felt, let your eyes roam over every square inch of the table, wondering if Joel’s a good player.

“You play pool?” he asks, his voice deep floating across the room behind you.

“Not too much. You?”

“Sometimes. I play with the boys on Thursdays.”

“Sounds fun,” you muse, dragging your finger up and down the red velvet, analyzing the colorful pool balls in the middle of the table.

“It can be.” His voice materializes next to you as he sets his whiskey glass down on the pool table. “You think you’re any good?” He leans against the pool table, eyes directly on you.

You shrug. “I’m sure not as good as you,” you laugh, heels clicking against the floor as you turn towards him.

“What makes you say that?” His head cocks to the side, eyes lingering over your soft dress.

“Well, for one, this is your club, your pool table. And you’re good at everything, aren’t you?”

“And what makes you think you aren’t, hmm?” He steps closer, a playful smirk on his lips as his silvery scruff reflects under the dim lights. Suddenly, you feel a little warmer than when he was across the room just seconds ago.

“I don’t know. I’m not… I just…”

“You’re not what?” he asks.

“As experienced…” you say timidly, eyes flicking down towards the red trimming on the table.

He cups your chin with his palm and lifts your eyes up to his, deep brown eyes staring into yours like crystal clear pools. Pools you want to jump in. “Then let me show you.”

He slowly trails behind you, grabbing your hips and lining you up perpendicular to the table, your heart beating strongly inside your throat. “First, you gotta be in position. Eyes right on the target, exactly where you want the cue stick to move to.”

He backs you against his hips, pushing you flush against the edge of the pool table while you stifle a groan at the sensation of him behind your body.

“Then, you gotta take a deep breath, imagine you’re the cue stick, feel exactly where you want to hit.” His lips line with the shell of your ear, enough to where he’s teasing your skin, one hand slowly dragging up your dress, one leg spreading yours wider as you brace your hands on the table.

“Then what?” you ask, almost panting.

“Then,” he glides his calloused fingers up your inner thigh, right in the crease where his thumb drags along the edge of your lace. “You gotta brace your shoulders, open your legs jus’ enough so you can snap the ball right where you want it to go.”

He spreads your legs even wider by putting his leg between yours and teases your wet slit with his thumb, his teeth dragging down your neck as he coos against the shell of your ear. “Jus’ as I suspected. Fuckin’ wet,” he chuckles, moving your panties to the side as he starts teasing up and down your folds.

“Mmmm, been wet since the dance floor because aaaah,” you moan as he starts slowly circling your puffy clit, making a wave of slick spill between your thighs.

“Yeah, s’that right, angel?” he chuckles as he starts to unzip your dress, slowly working it off your body till it’s a pile around your ankles, and the only thing left on is your panties that are pushed to the side forcefully.

He tugs the lace free, stripping you bare and leaving you in a wave of arousal as he pushes you harder into the side of the pool table, your mind spinning in a blur as he starts circling your aching clit.

“Joel,” you breathe, hot gasps leaving your lips as two thick fingers curl up inside your dripping hole. You tip your head back into his broad chest and feel the way he lights a fire in your core with his experienced fingers.

“Yeah? You like that, don’t ya? Think you’re ready for more,” he chuckles, sliding his hand from your hip and then undoing the zipper of his jeans.

Your eyes grow wider when you hear the clank of his belt and feel the denim material being pushed to the ground, along with his boxers as you feel the hardening of his cock digging into the small of your back. You groan as he takes his tip and slides it along your wet folds, coating himself in your slick as you moan against the glorious feel of him.

He spreads your legs wider, bending your hips slightly over the firm table as he slowly pushes the tip inside your waiting hole. You squeak, silently begging him to continue. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.

As if he can hear your screams inside your mind, he bends over and runs his tongue along the shell of your ear. “Now, for your next lesson, you’re gonna take all of me,” he growls, stifling a moan from you as he inches in a little more, his large head spreading you wide as you anticipate the full length of him inside you.

“All of you?” you whisper, curling your fingers against the red carpet of the giant pool table, imagining how good it’ll feel for him to pound his thick cock deep inside you.

“All of me,” he confirms with the snap of his teeth.

He gives you no time to think until he’s plunging deep inside you, hard. You gasp as he splits you in two, the stretch has you moaning his name, has more slick running down the bulging veins that surround his massive cock. And then he’s thrusting harder, deeper inside you, and you swear he’s kissing your cervix.

“Oh, fuck me,” you moan against the table, the side of your face kissing the red felt while your fingers dig into the soft material.

“Fuck you, huh? Ain’t that what I’m doin’, pretty girl? Or do you want it harder?” he growls, his thick fingers pulling you by the hips until he’s absolutely drilling you against the pool table.

You can’t think straight, can’t even comprehend how you got here, all you can think about are those smoldering dark eyes and his tower of a cock that’s throwing bolts of intense pleasure inside your entire body. And it feels so fucking good.

“Harder,” you plead, almost to the point of tears from how much he’s splitting you in two right now, but you don’t want it to stop, you never want him to stop.

“Fuck. C’mere then,” he snaps as he pulls his cock free from you and spins you around to where you’re sitting on the edge of the pool table, your legs straddling his hips until he’s pulling you to the very edge and lining up with your dripping core again.

“You want it harder? Then take it.” He smirks devilishly your way and then thrusts hard into you, so deep that you’re arching your back and calling out his name.

“Good girl, angel. Say my name. Jus’ like that,” he demands, and then his mouth latches to one of your breasts, his tongue flat against your pebbling nipple as you scream with a wave of pleasure that rides through your core. He does the same to the other one, lapping against it until your hands are laced through his tousled curls, making a groan slip from his own lips at the feel of your soft fingers latched around his messy hair.

“Yes, yes,” you moan as you feel his cock relentlessly driving up inside you, at an angle that kisses your spongy spot that makes you see entire galaxies, and his coarse hair ruts against your needy clit that screams his name with each stroke he gives you.

You’re right on the edge of breaking, and he knows. He knows. “Attagirl, angel. Takin’ my cock so well.” You try to pant out a response, but none comes. You’re so gone in the stroke of his cock, in the sensational bliss that Joel is giving you that you can only croak out another tired moan.

“Know you’re close, sweetheart. Let it out. Let me see you come on this cock,” he growls.

He cups your chin and lifts your head to where your eyes are level with his. You gasp, seeing just how beautiful those flecks of onyx and dark shades of chocolate are that coat his eyes, making them almost sparkle around the room.

You suddenly feel vulnerable like you need to avert your gaze, but you can’t. You just… can’t.

The way he’s looking at you like a starving lion makes you squeeze around his cock. He wants to devour you on the spot, but there’s also something else entirely in his gaze that softens just the slightest. And it makes you desperate to run, hide in the shadows so he won’t bring out these growing feelings that you’re feeling right now.

Do not fall for him, he’s not yours to fall for. You don’t need another repeat of before, you don’t need him. But you’re afraid you do need him, and that scares the hell out of you.

His eyes bore into yours so intensely that you swear you can see fireworks flashing off inside those gorgeous irises, numerous vibrant colors blinding you with shades of dark browns and flecks of gold that you swear you feel them colliding straight into your heart.

He smells of whiskey and forest cologne that have pine cones and chopped wood mixed into the very fabric of his being that you almost drown in the scent. It’s so overly consuming that it threatens to knock you off this table and onto the floor where you’d drag Joel down with you.

His lips are so close to yours, his forehead nearly collides with yours as you feel the sweat from his tousled curls drip down onto your forehead. And he’s staring directly at your mouth.

Oh, fuck.

You want to know what he tastes like, want to feel that beautiful mouth on yours, want to collide your tongue with the taste of his sweet cinnamon flavor, but you just can’t. Kissing is intimate, kissing means this is more. But you want it to be more, don’t you? And that thought alone drags you out of the intense trance you’re under.

Just when he’s about to go for your lips, you quickly turn your head, and his mouth lands directly on your flushed neck. His eyebrows furrow a little like he’s confused, a little hurt even that you moved your face, and the guilt takes a hold and wraps tightly around your insides, but you push it aside as Joel instead starts kissing down the side of your neck.

He tangles his thick fingers in your mess of locks, his hot breath breathing down your body as he starts to suck ravenously at your collarbone. His hips thrust hard up inside you, continually kissing that sweet spongy part that has your body begging for more. You’re so far gone that your head feels foggy and heavy as you start to combust.

You feel the blinding orgasm wash over his relentless cock, hear your own ragged breaths and loud moans surround the shiny black walls of this massive back room, and what sends you over the edge again is Joel’s crooked smirk and deep, gravelly voice as he calls you a good girl while you squeeze around his large cock.

You’re exhausted, body spent, but he’s not done with you yet. He hasn’t come, and you know he’s about to make you lose control again.

“Christ, you feel jus’ like velvet comin’ around my cock, angel. Wanna feel you do it again. Wanna take you over the edge,” he pants out, and then he starts to climb your body.

He pushes you back to where you’re sprawled against the middle of the pool table, your legs spread apart, the colorful pool table balls flying every which way as you topple over them, and then he crawls on top of you like he’s dominating your very being. You gasp when he folds your knees into your chest, your body being twisted like a pretzel.

He takes his thumb and starts spreading your slick over your soft folds, and he moans at the sensation of your wetness beneath him. “So fuckin’ soft for me, your pussy is like pure satin beneath my touch. Jesus Christ,” he groans as he brings his thumb up to his mouth and sucks the arousal off his calloused skin.

Your eyes grow wide at the mere vision of him above you delving into your taste, watching him moan against you as precum drips onto your messy pussy. You moan at the sight of him, the tousled hair, the expansive muscles that make up the shape of him, the dark eyes that penetrate you into place, the silver threads that lace his beard. He’s so fucking beautiful that you could lay here and stare at him for hours. He’s just that electric, and you’re afraid you’re falling hard for him, and maybe you can’t stop yourself from slipping into the darkness, but he’d catch you. At least you’d like to think he would.

“Joel,” you mutter, your voice almost a whisper, and you’re sure you look completely wrecked beneath him.

“What is it, angel?” he asks, almost softly as he brushes a strand of hair delicately behind your ear.

Intimate, that’s fucking intimate. But you’re not sure you have the strength to give a shit at the moment, you just need him to touch you again.

“Touch me, please,” you beg, eyes teary as you look up at him, clinging to his broad shoulders.

He chuckles and leans in, his warm breath blowing over your face. “That’s all you had to say, sweetheart.”

He quickly pins your arms above your head, his hands lacing around your wrists and then he’s plunging deep inside you like the hilt of a sword, his cock splitting you in two all over again as his dark eyes stare directly into yours.

It’s like an entirely different world in here than out there in the overly loud crowd, but in here it’s just the two of you, ragged breaths and tumbling bodies that seem to magnetize to each other. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced in your life, the insane pleasure coursing down every single nerve ending in your body, and Joel just makes it burn that much hotter.

He clenches his teeth the deeper he ruts into you. Your high-pitched moans collide with Joel’s, and the room is filled with a symphony of ecstasy. His hands go everywhere on your body, and you swear you’re about to ignite into flames in this very spot. You might just burn the entire club down.

His forehead falls down on yours, his lips so close, practically screaming for you to let him fall into the kiss. You almost want to, almost break as the cinnamon smell lingers against your nose, and you just know he tastes absolutely delicious.

“Joel, I’m not gonna - fuck - last much longer,” you grit through your teeth as he thrusts hard into that perfect spongy spot as his wiry hairs catch the edge of your puffy clit.

“Then let go,” he growls, digging his fingernails into your captured wrists as he thrusts faster and deeper inside you.

You happily oblige for him, arching your back off the red felt as you slip into oblivion and let the white hot heat slowly drip down your entire spine. It feels like warm honey sliding down his cock as your mind turns to mush, your lips moaning his name as you release everything for him.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he praises, keeping his steady pace of sliding his cock in and out of your pussy that vibrates for him. You indulge in his praise, your body convulsing from the intense orgasm, and then you’re just waiting for him to release his own pleasure.

His body hangs over yours like a sturdy tower, his flexed jaw clenching as he groans to himself, angling your hips higher as he dives inside you, deep strokes that blend into pure need that consumes you whole.

He doesn’t take much longer, uncontrollably thrusting deep inside you as his thick eyebrows knit together, his breathing erratic from the intense fucking. You almost swear the pool table is about to collapse from the two of you igniting like flames together.

You thread your fingers through his dripping curls, and that’s exactly when he falls apart. He thrusts deep inside and throws his beautiful head back. You feel hot ropes of cum douse your insides, and you moan the way it feels like he’s dominating you and claiming you as his own.

He stays inside you for a few seconds after, his hot breath slipping down against your drenched skin like an ocean tide about to take you to your knees. He pulls out from your core, his hips leaving yours, and it feels like loss as his tanned skin leaves yours.

He collapses on his back next to you, trying to catch his breath as the two of you lay splayed on the pool table, indulging in the pleasure the last half hour has been spent between the both of you.

He looks over at you and smiles brightly, a low chuckle leaving his chest. “Jesus Christ, that was amazing,” he beams, his chocolate eyes absolutely sparkling as he gazes at you. It makes your heart clench.

“Yeah, that was… incredible,” you pant, still breathless from the unbelievable sex Joel had given you.

You feel your heart skip a beat as you look at the beautiful man that sits next to you, relishing in all the dark desires Joel keeps giving you. And you’re so scared that you won’t be able to stop before you’re thrown over the edge. Afraid that he will be the death of you. But you let those thoughts flit away from you, only focusing on his next movements.

He pulls himself up off the pool table, sliding his boxers and jeans back on, and then he does something that surprises you. He dips down and hugs you into his strong chest, cradling you against him as he carries you over to the leather couch. He lies back on the soft cushions and pulls you into his body, and then he starts softly stroking your hair, your back, giving you aftercare.

You’ll never get used to this, never get tired of this. This man. He’s so dominate, yet he’s so fucking soft. How can he be both? How can he be so… perfect?

As if he can read your mind, he interrupts your thoughts that tear through your mind wildly. “Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout there, angel?”

His caramel eyes are so soft that you stutter as words tumble off your lips. “Just… ummm… just how amazing that was,” you breathe uncontrollably.

He chuckles and smiles down at you. “There’s plenty more I can show you, angel. Much more I can give you.”

Your throat closes up at that sentence. He wants to give you more? Suddenly, it feels like he’s offering more, but you don’t ask him. You just stare up at him with wide eyes.

He doesn’t say more on the subject, but you get the feeling this will come up at a later time. Right now you just want to focus on how warm his body is, how good it feels to be wrapped in his strong arms.

You rest your head on his chest and sink lower into him, letting the crackle of the fire send your eyelids fluttering shut, only focusing on Joel’s quiet breaths and his big hands that cradle the back of your head.

You swallow away anymore self doubt for the night, only thinking of Joel Miller, the hottest club owner, the most dominant yet gentle man you’ve ever met. You’re afraid you’re falling hard for him. And that’s exactly what you’re doing, what you’ve been doing ever since you met him.

Shit. You’re so fucked.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #dom!joel miller #joel miller fic #soft dom joel #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel x female reader #joel the last of us #tlou fanfiction #joel miller pedro pascal #club owner! joel

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ghost-proofbaby · 7 months ago

Text

mind blown (eddie munson x fem!reader)

summary: when you get a certain achievement while playing baldur's gate 3, it catches your boyfriend's eye.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: slight spoilers for baldur's gate 3 game, TALK OF MONSTER FUCKING/TENTACLES, you literally have the option to fuck a monster in the game and that is the premise for this one-shot. it isn't described in great detail, but is a background bit. and eddie makes fun of you for it. a lot. oral (f receiving, insinuated m receiving at the end). use of nickname "good girl". minors dni.

wc: 3.5k+

a/n: for anyone who was forced to witness me rizz the emperor on my last bg3 stream - consider this my... apology? half the time i was writing this i couldn't take it seriously so please laugh with me.

also, shout out to @hellfire--cult for the best possible divider EVER.

ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: MIND BLOWN!

You don’t even notice when the notification pops up in the lower left corner of your screen. It’s the smallest of blips, hardly signified by the quiet ding from your Steam account in a pitiful attempt to congratulate you for the monstrous crimes you were currently committing on your screen.

But hey, you’ve got to experience the entire game, right?

“What the fuck,” you whisper to yourself as you click on the second dialogue option, eyes locked on your screen is disbelief in your own actions, “What the fuck.”

2. Take its tentacle in your hand, invite it in.

You watch in absolute awe as, who would have guessed, your Tav takes the tentacle in their hand, inviting the Mind Flayer in.

Oh, you’re not seeing Heaven for this. You’re getting kicked straight to Hell, receipts pulled up of this very moment in your lifetime. That time you only cackled when your younger sibling broke their wrist? Fine. That time you let a door slam shut on some random grandma? Forgivable.

But making your video game character fuck the tentacled-should-be-enemy? No, yeah, you’re heading straight to the flames.

“Oh. My. God.”

You really, really, really should have noticed the achievement notification. Should have considered the fact that this was an achievement at all. Should have considered that your achievement would be public. Should have noticed who was currently online, and who would be getting the notification of your sins.

Should of thought of your boyfriend, in the living room, playing the very same game on your shared gaming laptop that had been reduced to solely allowing the two of you to play Baldur’s Gate 3 at the same time.

But you’re too entranced by tentacles and embarrassment and shit, is this kind of hot? Is The Emperor kind of hot? to think of any of this until it’s too late.

One moment, you’re leaning far more forward than you had realized, drawn into the screen as your mouth hangs wide open in that continued naivety of disbelief that the game actually allowed this, and the next, two hands are landing on the back of your chair and shaking you out of the trance.

“Shit!” you can’t help but scream, scrambling wildly to yank off your headset with flailing hands. A few of your knuckles connect with something hard, and you spin quickly to find Eddie standing there with a hand clutched over his nose, “Oh my God, baby, I’m so sor-”

“Are you fucking the mindflayer?” he all but yells, not looking to be in an ounce of pain even as he continues to shield his face where your hand had blatantly smacked him. His eyes catch the screen in the same trance you had just been under before yelling out, “Holy shit, you’re fucking the mindflayer!”

“It’s not what it looks like-”

“You are literally fucking the space squid right now.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“You’re fucking a glorified piece of sushi right now. You are literally-”

For the second time in the span of what hasn’t even been a full minute, your hand slaps Eddie’s face. This time, it’s more purposeful, slamming your palm right over his mouth before he can continue what you can’t even be sure is teasing.

And you’re missing the entire scene. Thank God for learning to quicksave as a reflex, you suppose.

“Eddie, I swear to God, do not speak another word when I drop my hand,” you threaten, no real violence behind your words as he glowers at you. You can see all that mischief swirling behind the look he gives you, every possible bad idea to ever exist in this Universe manifesting in those big brown eyes as they stare widely into yours. “Do you understand?”

He nods. Your mistake for trusting him, you suppose.

The moment your hand has dropped from him, it reveals that giddy smile, dimples screaming for your instant regret before he even opens his mouth to say, “Play it again.”

“Excuse me?”

“Go ahead,” he waves towards the screen where the scene is beginning to wrap up, your current companions interrupting the moment in horror. If you had still been entranced, you would have been an absolute mess. But all your focus had been stolen away to the boy towering over you, “Reload the save. Replay the scene for me.”

Your brows furrow as you cross your arms, shaking your head, “No.”

“No?”

“No,” you repeat yourself more firmly, leaning into your stubbornness, “I am not replaying the scene for you after you just made fun of me for partaking in it.”

Eddie wastes no time pouting as he throws himself down onto the bed nearby, looking at you with unimaginably forced disappointment, “Come on. You’re no fun.”

You hate how cute he looks right now. Bottom lip jutted out for dramatic effect, legs splayed out to straddle the corner of the bed. He leans back on his arms, torso elongating as you watch him take every steady and expectant breath. He looks determined.

Unlucky for him, you’re just as stoic in your decision.

“C’mon,” he whines softly, changing his approach when he realizes the cocky exterior isn’t chipping away at that set look on your face, no faltering in your decision to ignore his request, “Please? We both know that I’m not going to be fucking the squid, so this is my only chance to see the-”

“He’s not a squid,” you groan, starting to turn your chair to face the screen again and continue your gameplay, “Might I remind you just how hot my guardian was prior to the whole tentacle reveal? You can’t even blame me for succumbing to this, you know.”

His lips press together tightly, biting back a grin.

“Your guardian was very hot. But, pray tell, baby, why did you choose to fuck the tentacled version?” You’re not having this conversation. You blatantly refuse to, picking your headphones back up and beginning to slip them over your ears when Eddie’s hand shoots out to stop you, “Wait. I have an idea.”

“I’m not reloading the save so you can see the scene, Eddie-”

“What if…. I technically don’t watch the scene?”

You halt all movement willingly, headphones still hovering in midair even as Eddie takes his hand away. “What do you mean?”

He leans forward, elbows digging into his thighs, sly smile shimmering on his lips as he finally abandons the god-forsaken pout. He’s radiating pride as he simply asks, “Wanna have your mind blown in real life?”

Your entire body flushes with heat, starting to actually get embarrassed that Eddie wasn’t letting this go.

“With God as my witness, if you do not stop making fun of me for this, I will kick you out of this room and lock the door.”

“I’m not making fun of you,” he says slowly, inching off of the bed, dropping to his knees on the carpet of your shared bedroom, “Not in the slightest, sweetheart. I’m making you an offer.”

You eye him cautiously as he slowly makes his way closer to you. When he’s nearly tucked under your desk, you’re quick to bring your knees up, still terribly weary and unsure of where he’s going with this.

“What do you mean then, having my mind blown in real life?”

Eddie’s smile has gone downright salacious as he easily fits himself under the desk that holds your computer, situating himself perfectly so that if you were to drop your legs back down, he’d be kneeling prettily between your knees.

“Reload the scene. And drop your legs, yeah?”

He says it so casually, nonchalance dripping from his tone as if he’s just asked you to pass him salt or inquired about the weather rather than the actual request he was insinuating. It has your knees pressing more tightly together, your chin dropping on top of them as you stare down at him in the cramped space.

“Are you… are you seriously suggesting what I think you’re suggesting right now?” you question, each word falling from your mouth slowly.

It had been a while since either of you had really gotten your hands on one another. Not on purpose, of course. The two of you had simply fallen victim to the immersive game, spending most of your free time either playing your individual campaigns or joining one another on a multiplayer one. Afternoons melted away from gameplay, and the two of you were usually already to the point of exhaustion once you’d end up in bed together. There had been a certain lack of affectionate touches, suggestive squeezes of your thighs and faux-innocent kisses of the neck. And neither had noticed, minds equally preoccupied on thoughts of pixelated characters and harrowing journeys over a screen.

You can’t remember the last time either of you outright suggested sex.

“Deathly serious,” you can see the shine of his teeth as he flashes them in the dark space. You continue to hesitate until he quickly adds on, “Only if you want to, of course. If not, I can always fuck off and leave you to Squidwar-”

“I want to,” you interrupt, ignoring the new nickname for the Mind Flayer that he had started to taunt you with. You carefully let your feet slip off your chair, avoiding knocking him in the face with your ankles. He aids you, a careful hand running from the back of your knee and down your calf as he guides your legs to rest on his shoulders. The fact that you had started gaming without pants was suddenly very helpful.

“Good girl,” it’s sort of ridiculous, the way his words cut right to your core, nearly making you let out a small gasp. Your body is suddenly very aware of just how long the accidental bout of celibacy had been, “A few rules before we begin. You’re going to reload the scene, and really watch it this time. Headphones and all, got it?”

He places a chaste kiss to your inner thigh, and this time, you can’t bite back your little gasp. It only elicits a chuckle from him as you eagerly nod. You could care less about the game at this point, but you can’t seem to find the words to tell him this.

“If you stop focusing on the scene, I stop eating this pretty little pussy.”

If you weren’t so light-headed from the way his breath hits your clothed core currently, you’d probably see just how ridiculous this entire scenario was. It was downright laughable. Even a little shameful, honestly. By no means was it the weirdest situation that you and Eddie had turned into a game of sex, but it was certainly up there.

God, you were in love with a fucking weirdo. And it made you just as weird, if not weirder, as he was.

He gently slaps at your knee, forcing your attention to focus back on him, “Got it?”

“Got it,” you manage to choke out just as his hands begin to trail up to your hips, playing with the lace of your panties teasingly.

You lift yourself ever so slightly off the chair as he slips your underwear off, bringing the fabric down agonizingly slow. He has to shuffle plenty, guiding your limbs around just to finally remove the garment, but you hardly pay attention to all that awkwardness. Your Tav is still on the screen, awaiting instruction just as you were.

When Eddie finally has your panties off, knees back to hanging on his shoulders, you can hear him let out a soft groan at the sight of you.

“Fuck,” he sighs gently, leaning his cheek against your knee ever so slightly, “The tentacles really do it for you, huh? Already fucking soaking-”

“Shut up about the tentacles,” you groan out, throwing your hand back in exasperation, “For the love of God, please shut up about the-”

“Ah, ah,” he tsks, pulling farther away from you, “Might I remind you the whole point of this is all those tentacles on your screen right now, baby? Maybe I should have you hook up your speakers instead of your headphones just to make sure I can hear the entire scene.”

You’d honestly forgotten about the scene at this point. It was the least intriguing part of your evening now.

When you stay quiet, biting your lip to avoid making anymore smart ass remarks that would only prolong what you desperately wanted, desperately needed, he finally takes it as his cue.

That damn grin, dimples and all, look up at you with all the ill intent in the world as he gestures for you to slip on your headphones. You do it immediately, and just before you’ve fully engulfed your ears with them, Eddie says, “Now, please do the honors, and hit F8 for me, doll.”

Immediately, the only noise you can hear is the ambience from the game. One swift punch of your F8 key pauses it entirely, sudden music replacing it as the reload screen appears on the computer. Eddie waits, staring up at you for a few moments, probably having memorized just how long these damn reloads take from how much the two of you save scum in the game (Ironic, given during your first playthroughs, he’d scolded you endlessly for save scumming rather than just trusting the dice and letting it all play out.)

After a few beats of stillness, you can see the scene prepared and ready for you to begin to click the options again to initiate the scene in your peripheral. Your eyes are still locked on Eddie’s, though.

He makes no move to move any closer to you, though, still smirking before he finally mouths ‘watch the game’.

It’s only once you do as you’ve been told that he has his mouth on you.

He starts slowly as you distract yourself with the screen, peppering kisses along your knees and inner thighs, working his way towards your pussy. Teasing you, taunting you, dangling what he knows you want so badly that it aches and has you spasming around absolutely nothing. It takes more effort than you could care to admit to focus your vision on the dialogue options, and even more to remember which one is going to initiate the goddamned scene.

When your shaking hand reaches for the mouse and finally clicks the correct option (thank God), his mouth finally hovers over your slick folds.

Whatever the Emperor says falls on ringing ears. Subtitles are useless, the words blurring together on the screen when his tongue takes its first stride across your core.

Your knuckles are paling from how tightly you grip your poor mouse, and you almost consider what you would do if this situation leads to you breaking such a vital piece of the shared gaming setup, but Eddie’s mouth is quick to distract you. You feel the vibrations of the hums falling from his lips just as they trail to wrap around your clit, forming suction as he gives one harsh suck that has your mouth falling open in a silent gasp. Your eyes can barely manage to stay open as you blindly click for the next dialogue option being presented.

Kiss the tentacle and hope that it’s an erogenous appendage.

Not quite the same path you’d taken before, but it’ll get the job done. Especially when Eddie’s fingers are digging into the flesh of your thighs even harsher, pressing himself even harder against you as his tongue dances over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Kitten licks, but every single one sends a bolt of electricity up your spine.

The sound that comes from the Emperor in the game doesn’t matter to you, completely overridden by the audible groan you can just barely catch from Eddie as your headphones begin to slip off.

Was that… a good sound?

You hadn’t noticed you’d breathily recited the words you read across the scene until movement below the desk catches your eye, and Eddie is nodding into your cunt more eagerly than the character on the screen could ever be capable of.

It’s the type of eagerness that has you whimpering, the kind of enthusiasm that guides one of your hands away from the keyboard and down to tangle into the roots of Eddie’s curls.

He’s going to be the death of you.

His grip tightens until he’s tugging your hips hard enough to bring you further slumped down in your seat, letting your thighs cradle either side of his head. His nose bumping your sensitive clit as his tongue circles teasing against your entrance. Once, twice – and then it dives in, pushing you to arch your back, a soft cry leaving you as you yank at his hair.

With a heaving chest, you find yourself reciting another line of words from the screen despite making no move to click any options, “Do it again. Please, God- do it again.”

He lifts to look at you at that, smiling wide with glistening lips and chin alike, “God? Oh, you’re making me blush, babe.”

“Eddie-” you start, but a smack on your thigh from one of his ringed hands effectively shuts you up.

“Play the game, and I’ll do it again.”

Your hand smacks against the mouse, and you must click the right option, the exact command you’d just demanded of Eddie, because the scene continues on.

You’re not watching the screen. Not consistently. Your eyes can’t stop flickering down to your boy, to his dark eyes shining up at you as he keeps his face buried between your thighs, the only thing giving away his current grin being the slightest crinkle beside those eyes.

The entire sequence from before is simply playing out, just as before, but your mind stays on the feeling of Eddie’s tongue on you. When he releases one of your thighs and brings his fingers into the mix, stretching you out far more fully than his tongue had, you’re preening beneath his touch. Gasps, moans, whimpers, sobs – they all fall from your lip as he knows just how to work you. All the right touches to bring your neglected body to the precipice, practically worshiping you on his knees as the brightness of the screen exposes your face to him. Eyes tightly screwed shut, mouth wide open, lips swollen from poor attempts to keep your noises down through biting them.

It only encourages him further. Only has him forgetting entirely about the game as well, the only goal on his mind being making you cum on his tongue.

And you do.

In hot waves, broken calls of his name, both hands tugging mercilessly on his hair. Your thighs are squeezing his cheeks tightly as you clench down on his fingers.

Somewhere between all the whispers of his name, numerous squeaks of please falling from your mouth, he slows down. He gives you a chance to bask in the after-warmth of it all, your entire body buzzing as you catch your breath. You truly, genuinely hadn’t expected to cum that quickly. But it had been a while, and if anyone knew your body well enough to get you off in record speed, it was the man currently still seated on sore knees with a winning grin on his face.

“Your headphones aren’t even on anymore, you cheater,” he teases, sounding just as out of breath as you felt.

You detangle your fingers from his hair, retracting your hands just far enough for one of them to flip him off, “Shut up.”

Your eyes are still closed, head leaning back almost painfully as the headphones cut into your neck. If you could live in this moment forever, you probably would.

He presses forward, placing a quick peck to your sensitive core that makes your legs try to squeeze together instinctually, “Make me.”

At those two words, you finally open your eyes, slowly lolling your head towards him, eyes narrowing at the challenge.

“Get off the floor and onto the bed, and I will.”

You don’t have to tell him twice.

The entire process somehow manages to remind you just how ridiculous the situation was. Watching Eddie clamber clumsily out from beneath your desk, cheekily flashing you the set of panties he’d taken off of you that he shoves into his pocket. Eyes glued on him as he flops himself down onto your shared bed, still looking far too proud of himself.

Your heart swells as you look at the absolute idiot, knowing he was yours.

“Well?” he asks expectantly, raising his eyebrows as he shimmies his shoulders jokingly, “You gonna make me or not, sweetheart?”

You’re quick to start to jump out of your chair, just eager to be close to him again, deciding the game could wait until tomorrow. Just as you do, however, Eddie puts up a hand, biting back an even wider smile.

“I’m only reminding you because I won’t hear the end of it otherwise,” he drawls, slowly pointing a finger back towards the desk, “Don’t forget to press F5.”

You roll your eyes, but you do as he says.

It works. It’ll save you time next time you reload the game – allowing you to skip the entire encounter, considering the way you’ve discovered there are far more fun ways to have your mind blown.

Now, however, it was Eddie’s turn.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin

@ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87

@thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck

@cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking

@witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore

@mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog

@vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp

@princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

join my taglist!

(please let me know if the tagging worked!!)

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson one shot #ghost's stories

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gh0stsp1d3r · 1 month ago

Text

Maybanks sister

part 4, chapter 1- let’s do this shit!

summary: after el dorado, your lives are finally getting back to normal. However, someone’s still missing from your life. After a long week, a run in with that someone is the last thing you needed.

a/n: ahhh! Finally some rafe and reader moments lol. they’re a bit in a pining but not talking stage right now. They’re gonna get to talk soon, don’t worry.

SERIES MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

“-98.5%… gold.”

“And that translates to?”

“This is money. A whole lot of money.”

With a smile on his face and everyone else cheering, John B leaned over the table to shake the man’s hand.

You guys went straight to the gas station, with the nearest atm machine being inside.

“Moment of truth.” John B murmured, all of you crowding around the atm.

“Pin is 0-0-0-0… enter.” John B said, entering his pin into the machine.

“You’re kidding.” Sarah had to suppress a laugh.

“Tell me that’s a temporary pin.” You snorted, John B turning to look at you now.

“I thought nobody could guess-“

“You need to change that immediately, dude.” You told him with a loud laugh.

“I’m sorry-“ he turned his head back to the machine when it started to make noise, signaling it was ready.

“Here it comes.”

As soon as the paper came out, JJ reached for it before him and John B fought over it. “That’s me, that’s me,” he said, “let me read it!”

“It’s not even the money, it’s just the receipt!”

You rolled your eyes at the boys, John B winning in the end, opening and pulling it open.

“Okay, okay,” John B said, reading it. “Our joint account balance…”

“Mhm..”

He took a pause, before Cleo told him to get on with it, everyone impatient.

“Our joint account balance is… one point one million… seventy two thousand, five hundred and forty nine dollars.”

“You said mil?”

“Million?” You and pope asked at the same time.

“Um…” John B said, everyone processing just how much money that was.

“That’ll do it!”

He nodded in agreement, everyone cheering and celebrating, being unable to even comprehend just how much that was.

“Holy shit…” you spoke, you laughing to yourself, Sarah laughing with you.

“That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever seen on a piece of paper.” Pope said, you smiling and talking to Cleo.

JJ went over to the cooler, taking a beer out and downing it. Kiara glanced over at him, noticing his distance from everyone.

She walked over to him, “You can smile, you know.” She told him, leaning against the cooler.

He sighed, staring at her.

“Look, this doesn’t mean we’re kooks. Just means we have a little money now.”

“Okay, okay, wait, wait, wait, wait… hear me out. Really truck with yellow LEDS to replace the Twinkie for now.”

“That is by far one of the dumbest ideas I’ve heard from you.” You told your brother, rolling your eyes at him.

“I’m not getting rid of the Twinkie.” John B shook his head.

“But with solar panels… maybe. If it’s in the budget.” Kiara suggested, tilting her head to the side.

“And a bigger boat.”

“Guys, hold on. Hold on. It’s… it’s not like we can all go off and buy houses or anything. I mean split between all of us, that’s about 167,507 dollars. Minus what we owe barracuda Mike.”

“Let him try and come take this. I’ll mess him up.”

“I’ll mess him up for my damn leg.” You agreed.

“I’m just gonna say it. I don’t wanna piss off the drug dealer.”

“Listen, if we divide this up, we’re all gonna blow it.” Pope said, everyone turning their heads to Jj the moment he said that.

“Wow, okay. Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“It’s kind of obvious.” You retorted.

“-But maybe if we pool our money together, we can create something with actual economies of scale.”

“Like what?” Kiara asked him.

“You remember the island.”

“Duh.”

“Of course.” Kiara shrugged.

“I mean, it was our own island, and we built everything from basically nothing, right?”

“It was perfect.” Kiara said.

“The best life.” Cleo nodded.

“That whole island just to ourselves. All of us together.”

“It was nice..” you nodded in agreement with them all.

“I think we can have that again. Right here. I mean, Y/n’s and JJ’s property is going up for auction, right? So let’s buy it back. I mean, look around. A lot of land. Deep water access…” he motioned to the water behind him. “unless any of you are planning on going back to school, we’re gonna need a place to work, a place to stay and live. I think we can have both of those things here.”

“Well, it’s a nice idea, but I mean, we’d have to get the land first.” You told pope, he nodded.

“Then we could build like, a.. surf shop. And then maybe we can make our own dock.”

“This place does need a dock.” You nodded, smiling at the image.

“Ooh, what about like a bait and tackle shop?” John B suggested.

“Yeah,”

“Exactly. And… and who knows these waters better than us?”

“Nobody.” You replied.

“JJ, y/n, you guys can get a new boat and run a fishing charter. We can all live and sleep in the house-“

“Just a small warning, if this works, I am not picking up after you little shits.” You told them all, specifically staring right at Jj.

“Hey! Why are you looking at me? I’m not the one who-“

You rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around him and ruffling his hair like you would do when you were kids.

“Because we all know how messy you are.”

“I’m not messy-“

“You most definitely are, yeah.” Sarah retorted, him huffing and shoving you off of him while the rest of you laughed.

Before the auction, you went up to Jj, pulling him to the side.

“What?” He asked you, glancing at his friends in front of you all.

“Hey, I know how you’re feeling about the house and shit, but please, don’t do some stupid shit?”

“Don’t worry, sis. We’ll get the house back easy.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about, jay.”

“I’m not gonna… do some stupid shit, alright? Trust me. I got this.” He held his hand up.

You sighed, he did not have this.

“Here’s the plan. We go up in one-dollar increments, all right? It’s gonna take a while, but we’re gonna need to save every cent we have for construction.”

“Popes on point, JJ. Got it?”

JJ let a hum, although he hesitated.

“Don’t change the plan.” Pope stared at the pair of you and your brother, you looking offended.

“Hey, don’t look at me, look at this idiot.” You poked your finger into JJs head, him rolling his eyes at you.

Everyone turned to the auctioneer, him pointing to the picture of your dad’s property.

Honestly, you wouldn’t know what you would do with yourself if you didn’t get the house. You grew up in that house, and while you may have a lot of bad memories in those walls, you loved it the same. It was like you could still hear the laughter of you and JJ as kids echoing off the walls.

It was a part of you at this point.

And you knew Jj felt the same way, you could tell it in his eyes.

“-The foreclosure sale of 14 Roger’s point road. Now, this is the old Maybank place.”

“You know, uh, the cuts gonna be figure 8 in a few years. You walk away now, you won’t have to scurry off with your tail between your legs… and I’ll, uh, give you a little taste on the back end.” he spoke to you lowly, you staring at the man in disbelief.

“You’re gonna be dead before that happens.” You told the man, annoyed at what he had just said.

He stared at you with raised eyebrows through his glasses.

“Hey, Dale, was it?” JJ pushed you to the side, standing in front of the man now.

“That’s correct.”

“It’s not happening, hoss.” He cracked his knuckles. “Let’s play ball.”

You stared at Pope, already knowing what would go down.

“150 bid, bidder with 200, I’ve got 200…”

…

“I’ve got 775,000 bid,”

“This is way over our price range.” Pope told John B.

“Will you make him stop, please?” Sarah asked him:

“Get him out of here.”

John B went over to JJ, who you’ve already attempted to stop multiple times.

“Hey, please, it’s too much.”

“Just let me handle this. I’ve got it.. dude, I’ve got it!” He fought John b off of him, “775,010, right here, sir.” Jj shouted.

“775,010 to the gentleman in red.”

“Oh my god!” Pope groaned.

You sighed, half in relief and half in annoyance. Your brother was dumb to be paying that much, but you knew, deep down, you knew why he did. No one else would understand, but you would.

“That’s too rich for my blood, Rog.” Zeasy spoke, John B and Jj staring at each other.

“775,010 bidder, looking for 8…”

The auctioneer continued on, “going once, going twice, sold right here to the gentleman in red. Congratulations.”

Everyone in the group groaned, Jj turning back to Zeasy, holding his hand out.

“The most expensive property in the cut, and it’s not worth it.” He chuckled.

“Well, it is to us, sir. Now, if you can scurry off to your side of the island, and stay there, that’d be appreciated.” He waved his hand, wrapping his arms around John B.

“I get shit done. We got it. That’s all that matters. Whoo! All right.”

“What an idiot.” You murmured to yourself.

“33% above market value. Wildly overpaid. Thats like all the money.” Pope told John b, before walking past him.

You stared at JJ, him looking back at you.

“What?” He asked, you shaking your head at him.

“Well, would you like to do the honors or should I?” You asked your brother, both of you standing in front of the caution taped door.

He shrugged, his hands going to the ends and beginning to rip it off.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I christen thee Poguelandia 2.0.” He spoke, holding the ripped up caution tape in both hands before throwing it.

You stared at him, ripping off the remaining tape.

“Let’s turn this piece of shit into our home.” You told him with a small smile.

“Let’s do it.”

He smiled back, both of you doing your usual handshake, before he opened the door and saluted to the rest of the group.

“We’re home, y’all.”

Construction on the house was the hard part of it all, everything you guys had bought and used had been as cheap as possible, even using old wood from your dad’s old shed.

And finally, after months of construction, you all felt like you had finally perfected it. JJ had his own charter, everything had been feeling normal. Better than normal.

JJ put the sign down at the dock, a proud smile on his face as he stared at everything you all had accomplished.

“Think we’re about done.” You told John B, both of you nodding and smiling, doing a handshake of your own.

“Hey, guys!” JJ called from down the dock, his hat in his hands. “I think we did it.”

“Hell yeah we did!” You shouted back.

“We’re in business baby! Wow!” He shouted, you and John B laughing at his antics. “Oh my gosh, this feels good!” He pumped his fist in the air, and this was the happiest you think you’ve ever seen him.

Everyone watched with a smile on their faces, watching him cheer on and celebrate.

“That boys mad.” Cleo laughed, you nodding in agreement.

He got on the boat, “Captain Maybank at your service! Now that has a ring to it! Nothing can stop a pogue. Nothing!”

All of you laughed, watching him jump off and onto the dock.

“That’s what I’m talking ‘bout!”

“Yeah!” John B shouted.

“Is he okay?” Sarah laughed, Kiara watching him with a smile on her face.

“Yeah. Yeah. He just never really had a home. He’s happy.”

You listened to the girls conversation, finding yourself smiling at it.

He began to dance, talking wildly to himself.

“Slow down, you’re killing ‘em!”

“Twinkle toes, all right!”

Kiara laughed, walking down to the dock, “having fun?” She asked him.

“A little bit.”

“Yeah?”

“What?” He asked, her staring at him with a wide smile on her face.

“I love you.”

He got closer to her, both of their lips crashing into each others.

You whistled at them, John B howling while Sarah laughed.

“We did it.” JJ pressed his forehead against hers, her arms wrapped around his body.

“We did. Somehow.”

“But we did it. We did it!”

That day was one that you swore you’d never forget, seeing him happy like that, that was all you wanted in your life.

Yet, intertwined with the moments of joy, there was a bittersweet ache in your heart. Thoughts of him, of Rafe, drifted through your mind.

It’s been almost two years, and you were still in love with him.

You couldn't shake the memories, the way his laughter would echo in your ears, the warmth of his presence that seemed to haunt your every thought.

A sense of longing wrapped around you, refusing to let go, painting your happiness with unfulfilled desire.

It was as if you could still imagine him looking at you, a small but soft smile on his face.

You knew he wouldn’t want to talk to you, he probably wouldn’t want to even see you.

He probably hated you now, you thought. After you told him about his dad, maybe he didn’t want to see you at all.

Unfortunately, a large thunderstorm the night before had knocked out the power, causing the live bait to pass away, everything ruined.

“What’s the damage, pope?” JJ asked him, pope sighing.

“Fuse box is busted. Without the live bait, the fishermen won’t come, and there goes half of our business right there. We have enough profit to cover it, but barely, just barely. All right?”

Pope walked over to a jar, pulling it down from the cabinet it was in. “This is it.” He pulled out a smaller jar of gold. “The last of our AU.”

“Uh, what?”

“What?”

“English, please.” You snickered.

“Gold. It’s the periodic symbol for gold.” He told you all, as if it was obvious.

“Why not just say gold?” You asked him

“Because it doesn’t matter, all right? This is all of our savings, and it’s a no-go. This is for property taxes. So,” he set the jar of gold on the table, “we’re gonna have to tighten up…”

“Which means no more 600 dollars in gas chasing tarpon up the gulf.”

“Pope, that’s our job-“ JJ started.

“Yeah!” you agreed.

“We were chasing a bait board-“

“No more 200 dollars in heirloom tomato seeds.” Pope continued, pointing at Kiara.

Everyone began to talk over each other, arguing over it.

“What about my imported peppers?”

“Peppers gotta go too, baby.”

“We need to run the charters!

“It’s not the tomato’s fault!”

“No, hey, guys! If the business starts failing, the sharks start circling. All right?” Everyone stopped arguing.

“And we don’t even know if your dad is coming back.”

“He’s got balls if he shows his damn face around here.” You glared at Pope.

“And it’s not even his anymore.” JJ chimed in, hitting his hand against the table he was leaning on.

“It doesn’t matter. What’s he gonna think when he sees all this?”

“He’s not gonna see it.” You spat, Pope sighed, ignoring your comment before continuing.

“Listen, if we want to save this place, we skinny up until the business gets afloat again. Okay?” Pope said, leaving the shack.

JJ glanced at the gold that Pope had left on the table, an idea popping up in his mind.

The enduro. A dumbass bike race where people place their bets on, mostly kook kids who have nothing better to do with it. It was also where your brother went to try his luck each year.

“What a fantastic day we got for racing today. You guys ready to burn some gas?”

People cheered, raising their cups and watching as everyone started practicing, their bikes throwing sand on the viewers.

“The race is kicking off soon, so make sure you get your bets in. And then wave your flag, you know what I’m saying?”

JJ stood there, gas being pumped into his bike. He glanced over to the bike next to him, where Topper sat with a smug face, nodding at JJ. Jj shook his head, turning away from the boy.

John B walked over to JJ, patting him on the shoulder. “Let’s go baby! How we feeling today, champ?”

“Like I got this whole shot.”

“Yeah? Yeah?”

“I’m gonna win it this year. I know I am.”

“Yeah, you are.”

JJ turned to look at Cleo, “Cleo, how we doing, girl?”

“Everything’s all good, man.”

“Great.”

“The girl, out.”

“All right.” He raised his hand up, both of their hands meeting as they did a handshake.

“Hey! Bring it home, little boy.” She smiled at him.

“You know I will.”

John B smiled at him, grabbing his face. “You got this. All right?”

“I know.”

“Yeah, good luck.” John B said, beginning to walk away before JJ called his name.

“Hey, hold on one sec. Hold on.”

John B turned around, Jj walking up to him again.

“Where’d you park your bike?”

“Right there. Why?” He pointed, jj staring at him, hesitating.

“Gotta tell you something before we start.”

“Oh boy, JJ, what’s going on?”

“No, it’s really not that bad.” JJ replied, although John B did not believe him.

“Go on, then. Tell me, what’s up?”

“Like, literally you’re gonna be thanking me after. Okay? So… you know, I… I bet on me. To win.”

John B turned his head, pursing his lips together.

“I know, I know, funds are tight right now, but I feel good this year. So, I put in a bet on myself. Dude, the odds are like, seven to one!” He smiled, “with me on this thing, that’s like three to one.”

“Hold on, okay.”

“It’s free money.”

“Where did you get some extra money?”

“That’s what I’ve got to tell you. Um…” jj cleared his throat, “so, I went into the kitty and bet the last nug…. Now, before you say anything, I just gotta tell you-“

John B scoffed, backing away from JJ.

“Dude, listen, I got this, man.”

John B held his finger out, “JJ, JJ, just stop.” He walked over to JJ again, looking at him in disbelief. “Jj, are you serious?”

“Yes I’m serious.”

“That was our last 20 grand. That was supposed to go to property taxes for poguelandia.”

“Bro, I know! Okay? I know. I know you’re about to hit me now. I can sense it.”

“I’m thinking about it.”

“Save it. Gotta commit at this point. I got it. You know I do. But it wouldn’t hurt to have a little backup on this one. You know what I’m saying?”

“You want me to ride?”

“Just cover me. All right? Just like old times in the backyard. You and me? We school these fools, and we save the farm. You know we can do this. Easy.”

Your heart dropped when your eyes spotted the familiar bike, along with those damn blue eyes. His eyes met yours for a moment, and it felt as if time stopped, as if everyone else was gone in that moment.

“Oh my fucking god.” You mumbled to yourself, Pope raising an eyebrow at you, following your gaze.

Rafe stood there, a faint frown creasing his brow when he caught sight of you. A tight knot formed in his throat. He longed to close the distance between you two, to feel the warmth of your embrace or press his lips against yours again—anything to bridge th silence that had stretched between them.

It had been a year and a half since everything, yet his heart remained tethered to you. The weight of his lingering affection tormented him, and hehted how helpless he was.

He could see the tears begin to well up in your eyes, even from afar.

Topper was the one to snap him out of his daze, and Pope was the one to snap him out of yours.

Topper hit his shoulder, Rafe finally taking a breath when his eyes left yours.

“Dude, I told you, forget about her.”

“What? I wasn’t looking at her, dude.” Rafe lied, looking over at you, only to find you looking away again.

“Was he not here last year?” Pope asked you, you finally taking your eyes off of him.

“Yeah, he- he was, but I mean-it doesn’t matter, I gotta go. I can’t be here for this shit.” You held your hands up, your heart beat picking up and your palms beginning to get clammy.

“Just ignore him.“ Pope shrugged, you sighing, holding the back of your hands to your eyes, pressing on them.

You then realized, that he used to do the same thing. You put your hands down, glancing at Pope before speaking and turning around

“I’ll- I’ll be back.” You murmured, stumbling away from the crowd, leaning against a shed, taking deep breaths while trying to think about anything else.

“Shit, I need a drink.” You told yourself, taking one last deep breath before standing up and walking over to the nearest cooler, stealing a drink and downing the entire can in one go, before grabbing another.

You sighed when you walked up to Pope and Cleo, your eyes avoiding Rafe and instead looking at your brother and John B.

“Let’s do this shit, Jay!”

Taglist

@cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow @saintnourah @calmoistorm @ethanthequeefqueen @theoraekenslover @just-levyy @hallecarey1

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron series #maybanks sister #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x sister reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x y/n #obx #outer banks series #rafe fic #rafe fanfiction #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x female reader

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almostempty · 3 months ago

Text

The more you suffer

Self Esteem Part 4 | Pairing: fuckboy!Joel x f!reader

Hey y’all, it’s me back with more farm-to-table Joel smut. Took a while to figure this one out, but I hope you’re hungry horny bc it’s lengthy and full o’ fuckin’. Date Night Dave is back by popular demand, and fuckboy Joel finally experiences a consequence???

Warnings/tags: fuckboy!Joel, gratuitous smut, pwp, alcohol use, unprotected piv sex (that has no physical consequences bc it’s fiction and I like it that way), oral sex, public blow job, cock warming in a car, reoccuring guest appearance by dom!dave, date night dave inspo from the cartier campaign bc that's rich dave right??? au/ooc dave york is single/rich/mysterious and down to clown, jealous!joel, soft!joel, cuck!joel, jorkin’!joel, some angsty bits, no use of y/n, voyeur/exhibitionistish, light d/s dynamics, light (?) degradation/humiliation, praise kink, AU modern/no outbreak, overall just a lot of sex with some feelings in between, no beta blame all mistakes on me/adhd/insomnia

Notes: please leave feedback! Tell me all ur thots!

Thanks: to everyone who has read parts 1-3, that means the world to me

Dedicated to @gothcsz for the punishment inspo and @auteurdelabre for encouraging my delusions , and @strangergraphics for dividers

WC: 12.1K AO3: HERE | Masterlist: Here

Part 1: Self Esteem

Part 2: Want You Bad

Part 3: Kick and Scream

All I can fuckin’ think about.

It’s like it was a curse, not a confession. Joel’s voice plays on a loop in your mind. For days. You hear it when you wake up, against your will. It’s a reflex at this point. You hear it when your mind drifts at work, when Katie blathers on about who knows what on your brunch date, and it gets loudest at night when you can’t sleep. It repeats and repeats and repeats. Taunting you, describing you, mocking you. Leading you on.

Occasionally, you play the tape all the way through. Finishing the rest of the scene. Starting with 'All I can fuckin’ think about' all the way up to when that coward skipped out the door at the first glimpse of that thread connecting you. The first sign of something laced with vulnerability.

Every minute that passes since you’ve been cursed with Joel Miller’s enigmatic mid-coitus confession is torture. Slow, painful, agony. Time drags so excruciatingly slowly that you feel like months have passed, but it’s only been three days since you were cursed with this affliction when you get a text. Well, it’s practically a fucking email. A business memo.

Dave: Hey, I wanted to follow up. I enjoyed our date and would love to see you again. I’m out of town for the next 72 hours, but I’d like to take you out for drinks again when I return. I can pick you up again Thursday night, same time? Or, if you’d rather, I’ll be available earlier in the evening on Friday. If you’d like to do dinner.

Dave: I’ll be honest, though; I’d prefer to see you sooner than later.

Holy shit.

You reread the message at least three times as you sink onto your sofa. Your stomach flips at his second message, before you start trying to pick it apart, anyway.

It’s almost too…formal? Cordial? Maybe you’re just used to only getting cryptic sentence fragments from Joel, who texts like he’s rocking a Nokia 3310. Because it’s also so direct. Dave is not afraid to communicate clearly and express his interest in you. It’s not overtly sexual, but not nonchalant, Goldilocks approves.

You grin at the phone in your hand, and your gaze veers off until you’re staring at the wall, projecting the replay of your date with Dave like a movie at the drive-in. His mouth grazing your ear as he murmured filthy thoughts to you at the table, his fingers skating up your thigh, the taste of his cock sliding along your tongue, and the sounds that started from deep in his chest before he came down your throat.

It’s not like Dave wasn’t memorable, but damn, you had been wallowing in your feelings over Joel like it was your full-time job. Fuck that. Dave is a welcome distraction. You agree to drinks and let him know you’re looking forward to seeing him, before swapping to your text thread with Katie.

You: is it just because the bar is in hell for men, or is it appropriate for my pussy to flood over a man with a plan???

Katie: Can it be both?

Katie: Oh my god

Katie: PLEASE tell me it’s the bathroom blowjob guy

Katie: Is he planning a second date?

Katie: I told you! Green flags!

You: maybe 🙃

……..

Knowing you have a date to look forward to eases the sting. The memory of Joel walking out the door. You can still hear his fucking bedroom voice in your ear, but the chokehold loosens slightly. You fill the next couple of days with anything and everything to make the time pass faster. Too busy to have the time to check your phone or, worse, text Joel.

Dave continues to be everything Joel isn’t. Communicative, confirming your plans the morning of, punctual, pulling up precisely on time, and a gentleman greeting you with a compliment and opening the car door for you. You know you've let the demented demons within you get a little too comfortable when the green flags almost give you the ick. Katie’s voice echoes in your ears, and you suck it up.

It turns out Distraction Dave is just as hot as you remember–even without a jealous Joel-shaped ogre stirring your loins from across the room. He exudes a debonair charm with his tailored, quiet luxury brand look. You feel a wave of insecurity lurch in your chest before you realize he’s got you on his arm like you’re a designer accessory. He’s pleased to be seen with you as he guides you to your table in the dimly lit jazz-style lounge. It puts you at ease when he takes the lead in making decisions.

The cocktails are strong, but you’ve only had a few sips before. It’s Dave who has you feeling warm in the face. He’s flirty but doesn’t push. He doesn’t assume you will get handsy under the table again. In your twisted brain, that only emboldens you to make a move. He’s still talking, but you aren’t really listening, distracted by his neck and lips and how close you are to each other.

Close enough that it’s no stretch to slide your hand from your lap to his. You drag your hand slowly, up up up. When the corner of his mouth curls into a smirk, you feel your pulse jump. The atmosphere fades, and the noise blurs as your senses lock onto him. Dave’s brow twitches just before his hand covers yours.

“There she is,” his smile is devilishly handsome with a dark glint in his eyes, “my dirty girl.” His voice, his words, and the heat of his hand sprinkle horny fairy dust over you. “Thought about you all week,” he confesses.

All I can fuckin’ think about.

You swallow your intrusive Joel-voiced thought. Flush it away into the sewer.

“Me?” you ask coyly, batting your lashes. He hums, affirming. His hand squeezes yours, and heat starts to pool between your legs. “What about me?” your eyes have a sparkle in them as you sip your drink. He leans closer to you, nose grazing the soft skin behind your ear, and your eyes flutter shut.

“Thought about your pretty face,” he tips your chin towards him with his free hand, so close he’s all you can see. “Thought about these lips,” he gently kisses you, retreating before you can escalate the intensity. You pout at the distance when he draws back and smirks at your needy expression. “Thought I might not hear back from you with how distracted you were by your not-ex not-stalking you last time.”

An ache flares in your heart before you drown it with irritation. Garbled words stick in your throat. Something sharp and defensive tries to slash through, but Dave continues, unbothered before you can get anything out of your mouth.

“Mostly,” his crisp, rich scent washes over you as he dips into dot kisses up your neck, dissolving your defenses. His warm breath tickles your ear as he husks in a low tone, “I thought about how this greedy throat felt trying to swallow my cock,” his fingers wrap around your neck for emphasis, and he feels your quiet whimper of a response.

Your cheeks burn. He claims your lips with a hungry kiss that has your moans vibrating in your throat beneath his hand. It’s urgent and needy how your tongues, teeth, and lips collide. When his other hand finally releases yours, and he possessively cups either side of your jaw in his large palms, you’re lost momentarily. Consumed by the sensation of Dave’s tongue sliding against yours and the desire to crawl into his lap and straddle him here in the booth.

You shove away the thought of Joel that flashes through your mind and double down on your desire for Dave. You bite sharply at his bottom lip, roughly knocking your faces together as you press your body into his, demanding more intensity as you make out.

When you break apart, you feel the crazed expression on your face as you smirk at the man in front of you. “I’ll give you more to think about,” you say more breathlessly than you intended, but the message is still clear.

You dive back in, licking a hot stripe up his neck and biting at his earlobe. Your hand is back on task, groping for Dave’s thick erection when he stops you again. He tugs your hand away, and you huff.

Dave laughs, enjoying the frustration on your features as he tucks your hair back behind your ear. He’s rudely composed while you’re on fire.

“Finish your drink,” he tilts his head towards the antique glass in front of you. You down the rest in an impolite gulp, wiping at the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. Dave shakes his head softly, a mix of mild disbelief and something headier. “That’s a good girl,” he acquiesces you for following his direction with gusto.

His praise drips over you like warm honey, easing the confusion you felt at his rejection of your touch. He answers your unspoken question, “We can stay here, dirty girl, but I’d prefer to take you home so I can get my mouth on you this time.” The close quarters in the booth have you nearly nose to nose. A smirk spreads across his face when your lips part at his proposal.

“Let’s go,” you respond quickly, it’s an easy decision.

He takes you to his condo nearby. It’s modern, masculine, and decorated but not very revealing of anything more personal about him. He wastes no time leading you to the bedroom, and you’re just as eager to get him into bed.

But when your impatient hands start tugging at his clothes, he grips you harshly, fingertips digging into the flesh of your upper arms, pinning them to your sides, essentially immobilizing you as he holds you back. He has this look to him like he knows something that you don’t, and that’s enough to make you pause.

“She’s hungry, hm?” it’s phrased like a question, but you don’t think he’s expecting a real answer. His eyes rove over you before he relaxes his grip.

“Sit.”

You obey without a thought, perching on the edge of the perfectly made bed before him. “That’s a good girl,” his voice has a raw edge to it, and the phrase shoots straight to your core. You fight to keep still, overwhelmed with the sudden need to please him and convinced he wants to see how closely you’ll follow his orders.

Dave’s eyes are full of lust and something darker as he studies you, his presence looming, commanding, and teasing. “Look at you, ready for more.” His tone is mocking but coated with approval that tingles along your spine. He grabs your chin, lifting your face to meet his gaze again, “You liked the risk last time. Coming on my fingers under the table.”

You nod, and he grants you a flash of a smile. It’s gorgeous but restrained and tampered back down.

"And you liked being on your knees for me. You liked taking my cock down your throat, didn’t you?”

You nod again, but his fingers dig into your cheeks slightly, a silent reprimand. His voice drops to a low growl, “Use your words.” Your eyes widen before you blink away the mixture of shock and thrill.

"Yes,” you get the word out in a quietly, “I liked it," you manage to add a hint of confidence.

The corner of his mouth twitches. Satisfaction flickers in his eyes. “Of course you did,” he strokes your cheek gently, “you did such a good job taking care of me last time.” His adoration flutters across your skin, spreading heat. “But it’s my turn now, isn’t it?”

The wicked smirk on his face makes you feel lightheaded as he lowers himself in front of you. Your knees part reflexively to let him move closer. “That’s a good girl. Spread these legs for me,” he continues as he runs his hands along your smooth legs until he’s bunching up the bottom of your dress.

Without wasting a second, his mouth is on you, kissing the soft crease of your thighs and sucking an open mouth kiss over the damp fabric covering your core. His hands anchor your thighs, thumbs caressing your flesh in a mockery of tenderness as his mouth delivers a sinful symphony sucking at your skin, nipping at you in a way that makes your thighs tense beneath his grip and spewing dirty thoughts.

“So wet for me,” he mutters as he raises in front of you, pulling you to stand so he can strip you bare. Your arms hang submissively by your sides as his hand moves slowly, down your jaw, wrapped around your throat, down your chest, pausing to marvel at the sight of your tits in his palms and how your mouth parts when he kneads them in his hands.

You wonder if you should feel vulnerable as he proceeds with his inspection, but the precision of his movements keeps you lulled. Dave’s hand slips between your legs and his fingers trace the slick seam of your cunt. You can’t help the whiny groan you respond with as you strain to remain still for him.

He snickers at your struggle, then makes it worse. “You’re dripping, you know that?” the mocking tone in his voice does something just right to you, “such a needy slut.” Oh. That has your thighs flexing, tightening around his hand as he continues to torture you, parting the lips of your pussy with his fingers, drawing circles too slowly.

“Have to stop myself from bending you over now and fucking you hard and fast.” Your body floods with need at the idea, dripping around his fingers and causing your hips to jerk.

“Please,” you whisper. You figure it’s polite enough.

"Ah, ah," he warns, pulling back. "I know you’d like that, dirty girl.”

Yes! You consider spinning around and giving him your best tempting display, hoping he’ll give in, but he seems to be a step ahead. “Lay down. You’ll get what you want.”

Dave has a wicked gleam in his eyes as you spread out across the bed for him. He’s deliberate when he gets between your legs, spreading them wide and skipping the teasing kisses this time. He drags his tongue from your entrance to your throbbing clit before his plush lips wrap around you. The suction and pressure are dizzying, and you fill the room with panting and moaning.

Your hips chase his mouth as he uses his tongue expertly, alternating between lazy circles and sharp flicks. The pleasure builds as he works at you. His technique gradually becomes indelicate, using everything he’s got in a way that makes you feel wild. His nose nudges at your clit as he dips further down. He allows you to keep rolling your hips gently as you rock against his chin before he pulls back.

"Look at you, already unraveling for me," he says, voice drenched in amusement. "So desperate. She wants it all, hm?"

“Yes,” you whine, and your moans keep flowing as the pressure coils tighter within you.

“Good,” he asserts, “come for me.” It’s a demand that has you gasping when he punctuates it with his fingers plunging inside of you. If you weren’t so enraptured by the growing pleasure and his voice, you might nitpick the logistics of coming on command–but he gives you no room for debate.

Persuasively compelling your orgasm to hit as his fingers fuck into you and he sucks your clit into his furnace of a mouth. He doesn’t relent. The intensity of his mouth and fingers overwhelms you through the violent flash of pleasure and remains consistent as you writhe and contract, coming back down to earth.

He's working you back up before you can fully recover or process his praise. Coaxing you toward another peak, capitalizing on his command of your mind and body. Every flick of his tongue pushes you higher until you’re gripping at the bed to stay in place.

The ache for release teeters on unbearable as Dave’s groan buzzes through you. You tremble, sticking to the sheets with the sweat of desperation. You’re not cognizant of how you’re pleading with Dave, “Yes, yes, yes!”

But just as you’re about to tip over the edge, he stops, sitting up.

“Hey!” you’re on edge and disoriented.

"On your hands and knees," he orders, rougher now. "I’ve had my fill."

Oh shit.

You scramble to obey, face hot with frustration and need as you arch in presentation for him. His hands spread your cheeks so he can get a good, long look at the sight of your glossy, swollen cunt.

"That’s good, dirty girl, so eager," he chuckles, lining himself up against your entrance, teasing you deliciously with the slightest stretch. "You want me to fuck you hard, don’t you?"

"Yes," you breathe, the word spilling out before you form a thought.

"That’s what I thought." He pushes inside you in one smooth, hard thrust, and you gasp as he fills you completely, stretching you wide. He pauses only long enough to feel your walls rippling with contractions around the length of him, confirming his prediction. “Yeah, knew this tight little cunt would take me so well.”

You can only hum mindlessly in response before he sets a rough pace. Gripping firmly at your hips, he keeps you in place as he drives into you, grunting with the force as his hips smack against your ass, adding more lewd noise to the moans and single-syllable words you cry out.

You’re slipping away in the feeling of him pounding into you from behind. So mindless as your body bounces off of him that, for a split second, your tortured mind drifts to Joel. Joel’s voice and his filthy mouth, how he always gets you to beg for more. You tense up, eyes wide, hoping you haven’t said his name in your stupor.

Mercifully, Dave doesn’t seem to react. He continues at the same pace until his hand slides up your spine, gripping the back of your neck as he knocks your legs wider with his, angling you lower and thrusting even deeper inside of you. It’s a sharp, blinding need to come that possesses you.

“Don’t stop,” you plead between gasping breaths.

He gives you a slap for that. The sting has your eyes nearly rolling back like a caricature. Dave is launched closer to his own release because of your desperation, your ass jiggling, and his view of his cock disappearing inside of you over and over in time with your moans.

He gives you exactly what you need as you shift, letting your weight fall into your shoulders so you can snake your hand back to swirl your fingers over your clit with precision, quickly bringing yourself to the peak. You fall apart around him as he grips your hips forcefully, using you as he needs while waves of pleasure debilitate you.

He doesn’t slow down, pounding into you until his own release verges on crashing into him, and with a low, strained sound, he pulls out. The wet sounds of his fist are drowned out by the groan you both make as you collapse without his support, and he comes across your ass and lower back.

For a moment, neither of you moves, both panting as you come down from the high. Then, with a satisfied hum, he leans down and presses a soft, almost tender kiss to your shoulder. "Good girl," he murmurs, a soothing balm after the intensity. And, when he returns with a warm washcloth to clean you up, you feel glowy and drunk in his bed.

Dave drives you home, at your request, and walks you to your door like a gentleman. He repeats that he would be happy to see you again.

And he does.

You both get what you want out of the arrangement. Neither of you wants a relationship and has an interest in an emotional connection. Dave isn’t always available, but he’s communicative and arranges to pick you up once or twice a week when he’s free.

He always offers to take you for drinks or dinner at his favorite spots. Some nights, you just ask him to take you straight to his perfectly made bed. The nights you desperately need him to fuck Joel’s voice out of your head.

It works, for the most part, as the weeks pass. Katie rolls her eyes at you when you claim you prefer your weekly dick appointments to a real relationship, but her judgment fades when you give her a juicy detail or two about the things Dave says to you in bed. You’re grateful to have an easy out to redirect her because you don’t feel strong enough to let her see the festering wound in your chest, still refusing to let go of Joel.

Most days, it’s dull enough to manage. It’s more of a cruel joke when you hear Joel’s voice in your head first thing upon waking. When your phone buzzes and your heart stutters, you laugh bitterly at yourself for thinking it could be that stubborn asshole. It’s never him. You don’t hear from him. You don’t reach out. You consider blocking him altogether but can’t bring yourself to do it. You don’t see him on any nights out with Katie.

You bite your tongue when you see Tommy at another karaoke night. You can’t ask about Joel, nobody knew you had been seeing each other, if that’s what you could even call it. You strategically keep yourself on the opposite end of the table from Tommy, hoping to stay out of earshot if he mentions the man haunting your thoughts.

But as you drink your feelings one after another, they evolve. Anger swirls as you think of texting Joel and calling him out for being a gutless wonder. You pull out your phone and open your messages, rereading the last text from him.

Joel: Miss me?

Out of context, the two words trip you up momentarily. Even though you’ve reread them more times than you’d like to admit. And replayed that night more than you can stand. You don’t type anything to him. Your anger still burns in your gut.

You attempt to engage with your friends, but it’s all for show. You can’t stop glancing towards Tommy, the door, or your phone. Your anger converts into something you can’t escape.

After one more drink, your vision keeps getting blurry, not exactly from the booze.

You try to blink back the tears in your waterline, excusing yourself from the group and dashing for the bathroom. Something messy and hurt and possesses you. Destabilizing you entirely as you feel yourself breaking down.

Weaving between bodies until you’re slamming into a stall and collapsing into a wobbly-limbed mess. Ugly sobs rip through your diaphragm, stirring up the most vulnerable fears and a cruel internal voice. Why are you hung up on someone that treated you like shit? You think it’s what you deserve? You can’t even move on? You still can’t stand up for yourself?

Someone else enters the bathroom, and you try to hold yourself together, but they catch your sobs and ask if you’re alright. You do your best to assure the stranger that you’re okay.

“If he makes you feel like that, he ain’t worth it, hon’,” she offers before leaving you with your thoughts in the bathroom.

You know she meant it to be helpful, but it knocks you deeper into your feelings. You’re upset, and for what? Does he even care? Has he actually thought of you even once? He isn’t worth it. He isn’t worth it, and you still can’t stop the tears pathetically streaming down your face. It hurts even worse to know you shouldn’t care.

You stand up, and your head spins, not just from the emotional agony but from the alcohol. When you not-so-gracefully emerge and see yourself in the mirror, you nearly lock yourself back in the stall and vow to live here now. You can’t return to the table with your eyes that swollen and red and your mascara rubbed away.

You don’t want to be seen at all. You want to be left in bed to wrestle with your self-esteem and crippling grief over something that never existed.

You pull out your phone, only dropping it once before sending off your hail Mary, hoping Dave can pick you up.

Where?

The response is almost instant. You send off the name of the bar and do your best to make yourself look presentable before marching back towards your friends. You give Katie a quick hug from the side, yell-whispering into her ear that Dave is picking you up and you’ll text her tomorrow, before you slip away as quickly as you can manage. Bouncing off the back of a chair on your mission to get outside.

You lean against the cool brick wall, eyes closed, taking deep breaths of the crisp fall air as you wait for your ride. You can hear the bass from another club across the street and the laughs and shouts from the gaggle of smokers gathered further up the block. You feel syrupy and wrung out, but you aren’t going to be sick. You just need to get home.

“You alright?” A smooth voice cuts into your thoughts. You jerk your head more dramatically than you intended, taking in Tommy’s concerned brown eyes with a sigh. Of course.

“Just waiting for my ride,” you do your best to act sober and emotionally stable. Whatever that looks like.

“I’ll wait with you,” he decides.

Your shoulders drop. You must not be very convincing. “Really, I’m fine,” you add, leaning your head against the wall.

“Right,” he steps back but doesn’t leave. He lights a cigarette and allows you the silence as he smokes alongside you. It’s kind, you suppose, not wanting to leave you alone on the street. But he’s the last person you want to be next to right now. Or maybe second to last, you realize when he laughs and steps forward with a wave, drawing your attention to a scene that stops your heart.

A familiar truck pulls up to the curb in front of you, and you take back your earlier assessment. You feel like you are gonna be sick. Your stomach lurches, and you feel the panic rising in your throat.

“What are you doing here?” Tommy shouts, “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, like maybe if you keep them closed, you’ll blend in with the wall.

“Just giving a friend a ride,” Joel responds gruffly from inside his truck. Your plan immediately fails. His voice compels you to look at him.

Some unspoken fucking sibling communication happens between the two of them, and then Joel is staring at you. Unreadable. “You getting in?” he hollers at you.

“No,” you mumble barely audible. You clear your throat, feeling hoarse, and try again. “I’m waiting for my ride.”

“I think it’s here, darlin’,” Tommy says as he steps towards you to usher you towards Joel’s truck. You shrug him off, pulling out your phone to check your messages. To see how long it’s been since you told Dave your location.

You didn’t.

You texted Joel.

You’re mortified. No, no, no. This cannot be real. You didn’t text this hot nightmare. There’s no way he would’ve responded.

He did.

Joel: Where?

You’re still shaking your head and trying to wrap your head around the situation. You’re the architect of your own worst nightmare now. A disaster asking to be rescued by the guy who knows exactly how to twist the knife in your gut. You’re spiraling inwards.

Completely unaware of the exchange between Joel and Tommy. Or how gone, you look to them.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel mutters at Tommy as he comes round to help you into the truck. “What’d she have?”

“Hey,” Tommy defends, “I just came outside, and she said she was waitin’ on her ride. I don’t know shit.”

“Figures,” he’s still grumbling as he shuts the door. You’re in shock as you sit in the cab of Joel’s truck. The only other time you were inside was the night you met.

“Shit,” you curse at yourself as Joel gets in and pulls away from the curb.

He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t say anything. Just drives in silence. Through every light, all the way across town.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, “I didn’t mean to text you.” It hangs in the thick silence. You focus so hard on keeping your breathing steady, tamping down the sobs fighting to break through, that you barely register the tears that stream down your face.

You hear him sigh before his hand rests on your thigh, “What happened?” he croaks like it hurts to speak.

You’re reeling at that. Hearing him sigh like you’re a hindrance, like your emotions are a burden like it pains him to ask. You don’t have the clarity of mind to filter yourself.

“Nothing,” you snap, glaring at his hand. “Don’t pretend like you care,” you dig, refusing to look at him, hot tears still rolling down your cheek. He doesn’t ask again. But he doesn’t pull his hand back, and you don’t move it until he’s shifting into park.

Against your better judgment, you turn to face him. Your gut twists at the sight of him so close to you. After you’ve been left alone with your thoughts for so long. You can’t read his stoic face or his beautiful dark eyes.

“Thank you,” you murmur, trying not to linger on how insane you must seem. Asking for a ride, snapping at him, and then thanking him. You cringe at yourself, trying to swipe the tears under your eyes away like that’ll make you seem more put together.

You hop out of the cab and take a second to steady yourself. Joel’s door slams as he rounds the front of the truck to steady you.

“Don’t,” you mutter. He puts an arm around you as if it’s natural, and you still.

“Baby,” he says, low and soothing, “let me help.”

Baby. It stirs the stupid butterflies in your stomach until your brain catches up.

“No,” you shove him away. It’s weak, but he steps back.

“C’mon,” he urges you, “let’s just get you inside.”

“No,” you still don’t move. Afraid you’ll fall apart if you try. You need him to leave before you come apart. If he touches you, you know you’ll beg him to fuck your pain away.

“I can’t do it again.” You muster your courage, but when you look at his face, a soft sob finally breaks through, and your body shudders, gasping for a breath, “Please.”

His face darkens. His arms hang limply at his sides before his fists tighten. The street is quiet in the dark. “You think I’m here to fuck you?”

“Is there a reason I shouldn’t?” it’s a genuine question, but it rings harsh in the night with your uneven breathing. You fumble, dropping your keys when you finally dig them out of your bag, swearing under your breath. He grabs them before you and offers them to you, dropping them into your hand, avoiding your touch.

You mumble thanks and stalk towards your door. He stays put, watching until you’re inside before he turns to leave.

……

You get a text from Katie the following morning.

Katie: Girl, are you alive?

Katie: You wanna tell me why Dave looked an awful lot like Joel?

You: not really. did Tommy say something?

Katie: No?? I was trying to get a glimpse of your man when I saw you getting into Joel’s truck??

You: I texted the wrong number

Katie: ….

Katie: Uh, unless you’ve got him in your phone as Daddy Joel (real) I don’t think those letters are that close together babe

Katie: WAIT

Katie: When did you get Joel’s number? He barely talks to anyone!

Kate: Don’t answer that, I’m coming over and bribing you with a hangover cure bacon egg n’ cheese and you’re telling me everything

You: and a cold brew?

Katie: Duh

…………..

“Fuck,” Joel grumbles when he hears a knock at his door. He knows exactly what this is. He lets Tommy in without a word and tromps back to his kitchen to get another coffee before his interrogation starts. He sits at the table, and levels the darkest “don’t start with me” glare he can, but his idiot brother has always been immune.

…………….

“What do you mean?” you whine at Katie from your side of the couch. “There’s no use trying to talk to him; he’s emotionally constipated, and he only wants one thing from me.”

“Maybe there’s more to him,” she suggests vaguely.

“You were the one telling me to drop him and move on anyway!” you argue like a child.

“I didn’t know it was him!”

“How does that change anything?” you glare at her. Katie chews at her lip while you devour the last of your breakfast sandwich. It’s cold. You had been so wrapped up in your recollection of the ups and downs of your non-relatioinship with Joel you forgot to finish eating while it was fresh. It feels like a stupid metaphor about how he forgot to take care of yourself when you were drawn into his toxic cycle.

You thought confessing would reduce the weight on your chest. You weren’t prepared for Katie to add to your delusion.

“I don’t think it’s really my place to share his… baggage,” she muses.

“Since when?” you cut her a nasty look.

“I just think,” she pauses, and you ball up the foil from your sandwich and throw it at her, earning you a glare, “It’s complicated.”

“Okay, Avril Lavigne,” you mock. “You’re the worst, and this is not helpful! You’ve gotta give me something. Is he married? Am I the mistress? Is he a felon? A drug dealer?”

“You think I wouldn’t warn you about any of those?”

“I don’t know. I never thought you’d be taking his side,” you say in a serious tone.

“I’m not defending him!” She holds up her hands in surrender. “You deserve better than fuckboy behavior from a grown man.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s just,” he considers her words as your eyes narrow, “it seemed like it meant more than that. You were practically glowing half the summer.”

“And a lifeless zombie the rest of the time?”

“A cute zombie?” she shrugs. “I’m serious, though. Do you think he’d show up to rescue anyone else–no questions asked? That fast?” her words get softer.

“I don’t know,” you mutter, draping yourself miserably along the end of the couch, trying not to think about the times Joel bent you over the armrest. “I don’t know him at all, really.”

“Do you want to?”

Yes! A naive part of you shouts, hopeful and bright, blind to the reality of your situation. Oh, no. Definitely not. You dropkick that idea right to the back of your mind. Ignoring the way it screams until it’s muffled by the dejected, logical thoughts. “I can’t risk it,” you respond weakly.

Katie hears it. The ever-resilient part of you that tries to stay one step ahead cracks and lets the vulnerability out. You refuse to worsen the abandonment wound, but it’s entangled in your heart.

Katie doesn’t bring it up again. She spends the rest of the day with you, ordering takeout and putting on your favorite movies, like you’re going through a breakup. It helps.

…………

Life lulls back into the same routine. Except now, when you wake up, it’s Joel’s face–not his voice–that haunts you. The

Instead of Joel’s voice haunting you when you wake up–it’s his face. The way he looked hurt. The way he dropped your keys into your hand

when you begged him not to come inside. It sinks like a stone in your stomach that you carry all day as you go through the motions. It feels hollow, but you persist. Your friends lighten the dark fog. Dave’s praise soothes the ache, and he fucks you so hard you can forget almost forget.

But Joel lurks in your walls, in your skin, and you swear you see his headlights sweep over your living room, but it’s never his truck. At least not in the two weeks since karaoke night. You’ll never understand the trickery that makes misery slow time, but every day has felt bloated and stretched.

Sick of feeling sick, the following week, when Joel’s face pops up, the second you open your eyes, you curse him. Spite simmers in your bones. If he had something to say, he had all the time in the world to show up and say it. Channeling the malaise into something darker, you let your anger renew your energy.

All I can fuckin’ think about MY ASS.

You’re itching for the distraction by the time you’re getting ready for your date with Dave this evening. You know you’re going to be a menace, and it’ll turn him on, which already has you smirking to yourself. You’re almost ready when you hear a knock at your door. You frown, checking the time. Dave’s usually precisely on time, not early. Close enough, you figure, slinging your bag over your shoulder and heading for the door.

You swing it open, ready to see Dave, but your jaw drops when you see Joel. He’s caught off guard by your date night look and hesitates as his eyes sweep over your little black dress. Without a thought you slam the door in his face.

What the fuck?

He knocks again, loudly, as if you weren’t standing on the other side with your mouth gaping like a fish. But the pounding brings you back to reality.

You open the door and start before he even has a chance.

“It’s been three weeks since I last saw you, Miller, and that was an accident! I don’t know how long it was before that, but now you’re gonna show up and ruin another date? I don’t fucking think so. You’ve got five minutes. Spit it out. What are you doing here?”

He blinks dumbly for a moment. Taken aback by your words and still breathless at seeing you all dolled up for your date. You cross your arms, unimpressed so far. That’s somehow worse. The irritated look on your face makes him want to fuck the attitude out of you. He takes a deep breath, trying to refocus before he starts.

“You’re right,” his voice is gentler than you remember–It’s criminal really, “I shouldn’t have waited.” He pauses and swallows thickly. Is he nervous? That’s new. “I’m not great with words, and I haven’t given you any reason to give me the time of day. I’m here to apologize.”

“Go on then.”

“It wasn’t right of me to run from you–”

“Which time?” you won’t let him get through this easily. Not now. He lets that sink in. The vulnerability makes his eyes shine. You can sense the charge in the air like he might just run right now.

“Every time,” he admits. “Didn’t think you’d let me back in every time, but I couldn’t stop myself from trying. Knew you wanted me too.” You scoff at that. Amused at his approach. You see his shoulders tense before he lets your disapproval roll off of him. “Convinced myself, it was fine, or you’d stop answerin’ the door. Thought it’d be easier–”

“If I did your dirty work for you?” you accuse sharply. “If it was my responsibility to hold you accountable?”

“Thought it’d be easier if you hated me, I guess,” he runs his hand over the back of his neck. You stop seeing red and take him in. He smells fresh, like some over-fragranced body wash, his nearly dry hair brushed back. You hate how you feel the urge to soften just at the sight of him. “Figured you’d move on,” he rumbles.

“Didn’t seem like you wanted me to move on when you crashed my date.”

“It wasn’t my plan,” he mutters. Right. You raise your eyebrows. “You–you just drive me fuckin’ crazy. I don’t know why. But I can’t get you outta my fuckin’ head.”

That makes you smile. His confession willfully given on your front doorstep. In the daylight, without your body seducing his. You drive him crazy.

Dave’s car pulls up behind Joel’s truck. “Time’s up,” you say, “as much as I really enjoy this 90s romcom-style confession, and I really do, I’ve got a date, and I don’t like to keep my dates waiting.”

“Right,” Joel takes you in like he might never see you again, “he something serious?” he nods towards Dave’s car.

“Why, you planning to ask me out?” you’re not afraid to be direct anymore. Nothing to lose.

“Thought I’d just start with the apology.”

“Good.”

“You accept?”

You laugh loudly, full-chested. It’s a release, but it ends mockingly. “You’re gonna have to try harder than this to show you really mean it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nods, turning to leave. A wicked idea flashes through your mind as you watch him turn and look past him towards Dave, who is watching you intently.

“Wait,” you call out, and Joel spins immediately. “I’ll consider your apology tonight on one condition.” He waits to hear more, and your grin sends a shiver down his spine. He’s in for something, and if it’s anything close to what he deserves, it’s gonna hurt.

…………

You slide into your favorite corner booth, in between Dave and Joel. You admire them both in the dim light. You haven’t been able to keep the nefarious smirk off your face since you proposed your idea. Dave was an easy sell, just as you knew he would be, with minimal questions and clear on the role you wanted him to play. You weren’t surprised that Joel agreed, but you’re skeptical that he’ll be able to keep his cool.

“You’re coming with us,” you told him like it was a command, “you’re gonna watch, and you’re gonna prove to me that you can behave.”

He seems to keep it together through your date. He’s quiet, only accepting a drink when you tell him not to be weird. You know the jealousy is screaming beneath the surface. He does his best to rein it in, but when Dave taunts him with sly comments or touches you so freely, you catch his jaw tensing and his hands balling into tight fists, but he doesn’t say anything.

Dave exudes confidence and control. He relishes in the power dynamic and more so, in how you’re so turned on by having an audience. Dave’s eyes are sharp, catching all of Joel’s discomfort when you giggle when you share a story when he touches you, but worst of all, when you touch Dave. “Dirty girl,” Dave murmurs close to your ear, “you want to give your guest a show before we take him home?”

Your eyes are bright and shining when you smile at him. You give Joel a once over. He doesn’t look like he will flip the table or smash his fist through it. He glowers at Dave but softens for you, swallowing down the humiliation and washing it down with another drink.

“Yeah,” you turn back to Dave, “he can take it. What do you have in mind?”

“I think I dropped something under the table,” Dave’s low voice drips down your spine, and excitement buzzes in your core, “You think you can help me out?” You smile wide as the Cheshire cat before sinking beneath the table. It’s cramped and dark, but you’ve never been more grateful to Dave for reserving his favorite secluded corner spot.

You wiggle a bit brushing against Joel as you situate yourself between Dave’s legs. The table muffles more of the sound, blending their voices into the sound of the music. You can tell Dave is trying to continue a casual conversation with Joel, and you can tell Joel doesn’t respond with many words. You find it easy enough to tune them out altogether as you focus on your mission, opening Dave’s belt and working quickly to tug at his pants until you can free his thick cock.

Before you can get your mouth on it, Dave cups your jaw and grabs your attention, “Good girl,” he husks, matching your hungry gaze. “This what you want?” he asks as he grips the base of his cock and angles it towards you. You nod, wetting your lips in anticipation. “Do you want him to watch?” he asks, tilting his head towards Joel.

You smile again, “Yes.”

“Come closer,” he directs Joel, “she wants you to watch.” Joel shuffles over, scooting down the curved bench until he can see your face looking up at him.

“Shit, baby,” Joel hisses, shifting to adjust himself. You see the mix of emotions flickering across his face. You can’t help yourself from holding eye contact with Joel as you slide your tongue down Dave’s length. You keep your eyes on him as you begin to bob your head, taking his cock deeper into your mouth.

Having their eyes on you, has you squirming. The attention and the dynamics between the three of you has your heart in your cunt. The blazing jealousy in Joel’s eyes eggs you on, working sloppily to please Dave. You moan below them.

“Look at her,” Dave speaks calmly to Joel, only a hint of strain in his voice as he maintains his composure. “You think another woman could enjoy your cock this much? You think you could find a mouth better than this?”

“No,” Joel grits through clenched teeth.

“You think you deserve her?” Dave asks like it’s as meaningless as asking about the weather.

“No,” he grits again, his eyes shut tightly, waiting for something to pass, before he can continue watching you. You see the torment taking hold, lighting a fire within you that spurs you on. You break the eye contact to take Dave’s cock even deeper. He groans approvingly above you.

“That’s it,” Dave encourages you with his hand gently wrapping around the back of your head, “just like that, fuck.” He keeps watching you, but his next words are for Joel. “Tell her,” he says, drunk with pride and lust, “tell her what a good girl she is. Think she more than deserves to hear it.” You know your cunt is dripping between your legs at the intensity of your lewd behavior and the control Dave wields over the both of you so effortlessly.

You shift to watch Joel. He tempers the storm of his frustration and arousal to make sure it sounds honest. So you know he means it.

“That’s good, baby,” his voice is hoarse, and he clears his throat before continuing, “Such a good girl.” Your eyes nearly roll back. You didn’t think it could hit any harder than when Dave praises you, but hearing the words from Joel sends you to another plane. You melt before your determination is renewed, and you’re on a mission to make Dave come. He knows what you want, and his hips tilt, rocking into you as you swallow around him eagerly until he’s groaning again and pulsing against your tongue as he comes.

The men shift, and the three of you adjust and fix yourselves, respectively, as you return to your seat between them. You’re pleased with yourself but overtaken with the need throbbing in your cunt. You don’t miss Joel’s attempts to adjust himself and squash his own aching desire. It makes your lips curl with a hungry smile.

Dave pulls you towards him. You’re buzzing so tensely with anticipation that just his grip around your waist brings a whiny moan out of you. He chuckles darkly at your wrecked response. “So worked up just from that, aren’t you?” Dave teases. You hum in agreement, letting your senses be overwhelmed by the scent of both men and their warm bodies on either side of you. “Already soaked and ready to be filled with a cock, hm?”

“Yes,” you agree, closing your eyes and smiling dreamily.

“Tell me,” Dave murmurs with a dangerous edge.

“So wet,” you purr in agreement, but he laughs again. You open your eyes, confused.

“Was asking him,” Dave tilts your chin towards Joel. You thought your idea of having Joel watch would be punishment enough, but you weren’t prepared for how Dave’s filthy mind works a step ahead of yours. You pull Joel’s hand between your legs. “Check for me,” he orders.

Joel obeys. His fingers are quick to find your soaked underwear, and he easily dips them beneath the fabric into the pool of slick at your fluttering entrance. “Fuck,” you both curse at the sensation. It’s overwhelming, and you jerk at the intensity of being touched where your body wants contact the most.

“Fuckin’ soaked,” Joel confirms like it’s painful to say it, “needs it bad.” You think the latter might apply to both of you.

“You think you can make it all the way home, dirty girl?” Dave teases. You nod, but the whiny sound that comes from your throat as Joel removes his hand says otherwise. Dave considers your needs. “He’s only here to watch, hm?” he confirms. You nod mindlessly. “You think he’d make a nice seat for your ride home? Keep that empty hole full for you?”

“Oh, shit,” you feel your face heat at the idea, “yes.”

Joel’s more conflicted than he’s ever felt in his life. He was prepared to fight off his jealousy and tame his anger. He wasn’t prepared to watch you give Dave head in public or for how fucking hard he would get watching. But the most difficult thing to reckon with is the humiliation. More specifically, how every comment from either one of you that further salted his wound made his skin boil but also sent jolts of excitement through his nerves.

“You think you can keep it together?” Dave challenges Joel.

“Yes.”

………………

Joel regrets agreeing before you leave the parking lot, but you couldn’t pay him to go back in time and change his answer. He thought the worst of it was over once you finally settled on top of him, sinking painfully slowly down his cock until your ass was flush with his hips, but you can’t stay still. You tense and contract around him, nearly blinding Joel with the heat of your velvety soft walls choking his shaft. You lean forward, trying to get comfortable, and when the car bounces over a speed bump on the way out of the parking lot, you both groan with pleasure and frustration.

“You feel better?” Dave asks you as he navigates swiftly back to yours.

“So full,” you state, desperately fighting the urge to beg Joel to grab your hips and fuck you. You weren’t exactly exaggerating the last time you had sex with Joel when you said you missed his “big fat cock.” Every bump on the road has you biting back moans, and you squirm, trying to find a comfortable position.

“Please,” Joel’s low voice is strained and ragged, “quit moving.”

You should’ve had the foresight to realize this wasn’t a punishment for Joel. This was just going to weaken your resolve. You know the second he gets his hands on you, it’s useless. You’re his through and through. You thought you were still pissed off enough that he couldn’t get to you, that Dave’s presence would keep you on track.

Well, you didn’t really think about it at all. You just felt your knees go weak when, and your cunt do a flip when Dave made the suggestion. You need to make a mental note to show him just how much you appreciate his dirty mind when you get back home.

You can feel Joel’s growl rumbling through his chest and his thighs tensing beneath you. It’s a vicious cycle. Every sound he makes is like a call and response with your body. Your cunt denounces your orders to stay still and pulses rhythmically, trying to take Joel’s cock deeper on it’s own accord. His breath hitches, and you adjust.

“Baby,” he rasps, sounding wrecked, “I can’t–fuck–can’t do this if you’re gonna be a fuckin’ tease. His hands wrap around your hips, fingers digging harshly into your flesh in an attempt to keep you still, but the pressure makes you cry out softly.

“Is your chair complaining?” Dave mocks, and Joel’s cock tenses inside of you.

“I’m about to complain,” you try to snark, but it comes out needy instead.

“What do you need, dirty girl?” He asks sincerely. You know it’s not long to get home, but you can’t think straight with Joel’s cock so deep inside of you.

“Fuck, I…” you wiggle again, causing Joel to grunt behind you, and the noise makes your pussy flex, “I can’t,” you trail off, digging your nails into your palms, trying to steady yourself. You feel pathetic right now, unable to put together a sentence and barely able to keep yourself still.

“Hey,” Dave coos gently, seeing the pained expression on your face. “You decide what you want. Your rules. You want him to touch you?”

“Mmm,” you groan loudly with want, “please, please, please.”

Joel doesn’t hesitate, hands searching immediately and yanking you closer as he gropes at your body. The freedom to move gives him power over his urges, more control than either of you expected. His breath is hot against your neck before his voice, gravelly and dark, vibrates just behind your ear, “Missed hearing you beg for me.”

Your head lolls back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut and mouth hanging open. You moan in sync as his hands wrap around your body, slipping under the top and bottom of your dress at the same time. You’re pinned, back against his firm chest, as one hand pinches at your hard nipple and the other taps at your clit. Your body struggles in his strong arms, unable to bow at the overstimulation of his touch. All you can manage is to rut your hips into him.

“You desperate to come on my cock again, baby?” he goads you. Feeling confident now that he’s free to run his filthy mouth again. Feeling drunk on your needy noises and the way you writhe for him. He carries on teasing you in his Joel-specific way with his words and his fingers. It’s maddening, and you feel lit up, skin tingling as you’re at his mercy. You can only see blinding light, like you’re inside of a star, as you get closer and closer.

You’re too incapacitated to realize you’ve made it home, that the car has stopped moving, that Dave has turned to watch you. Joel continues to rasp filth into your ear, but your body spasms in response when Dave begins to encourage you. “That’s right,” Dave coaxes you, “take what you need.”

You do. Falling headfirst into the rush, broken, gasping, moans ringing through the car. The scent of sex swirling in the air. Your tension snaps, flooding with endorphins, and riding through the waves as you’re fully supported by Joel’s arms and body.

“Fuck,” Joel chokes out, biting down into the curve of your neck to stifle himself. Your cunt still weakly tries to milk his cock as your hips twitch and jerk while you ease back down from your orgasm. You can feel the mess you’ve made. Hot and sopping wet, dripping down Joel’s cock and making you slip against his thighs. You’ve never made such a mess before.

Joel shudders and tenses beneath you. Lifting you off of him with a familiar grunt. It’s his come leaking out of you. Your head swivels, “that wasn’t for you.” His cocky attitude from minutes earlier is gone; shame washes over him. His curls are no longer tamed like they were when he showed up at your door; one sticks to the sweat on his forehead. He breathes deeply, chest rising and falling, as he mouths a barely audible apology.

It’s twisted that it stirs your need to comfort him. Fuck it. You figure the whole evening has been wild enough so far. Plus, he can take some of the emotional whiplash this time. You’re tired of being the one with that look on your face. You can see the taunt dancing on Dave’s tongue; you know he’s ready to cut Joel with vicious words, but he holds them, waiting for your lead.

It’s an unbelievable position to be in. You aren’t used to feeling like you’ve got the upper hand in the power dynamic like this. Not with Joel. Not with two men that radiate dominance like it’s in their DNA. You’d like to savor the moment, but now that you’re not burning a horny fever, you realize how incredibly impractical it is to sit on top of such a large man inside of the car. You’re all gonna end up with neck cramps if you’re in here another minute.

Despite dying to know what Dave’s holding back, you have more mercy than him or Joel. Joel, who currently can’t look you in the eye as he stays uncomfortably rigid beneath you, well, except for his spent cock. The thought makes you snort weakly, amused at your own sense of humor.

You contort in Joel’s lap to kiss him softly on the cheek. “Chin up, Joel,” you lilt. “You can make it up to me. We’re not done yet,” you nod towards Dave who smirks darkly, “Unless you’ve changed your mind.” You open the door and hop out, leaving both men to watch you walk to the door. For the first time since you opened your door tonight, you’re alone long enough to let some nerves start to get to you.

Your dates don’t follow immediately. They take long enough that you start to spin out in your head. Are you insane for this whole idea? Did you really just crawl under a table to Dave in front of Joel? In public? What the fuck are they talking about without you? You’re impatient now, arms crossed, leaning against the door frame, letting the cool night air stream into your living room.

Then they’re striding towards you. Hungry eyes glinting. Both are intimidatingly gorgeous in their own ways. Dave exudes a slightly detached, effortless, authoritative swagger. It makes you feel special when he gives you his undivided attention. Joel is raw, slightly untethered like he’s always weary from warring with his own demons, but he still wields lethal power. They stalk towards you swiftly, catching your concern as they usher you towards your bedroom with more coordination than you expected.

The door closes behind you with a soft click, but the tension in the air is heavy, as if someone had slammed it shut. Your room feels smaller with the weight of the situation about to unfold. Dave’s presence behind you makes your pulse quicken; the head of his body and his signature scent surround you. Joel watches, leaning against the door, arms crossed, jaw set, determined restraint weighing on his features. Despite the distance between you, Joel’s presence feels all-consuming. You’re mesmerized by his figure. His arms look even bigger, crossed in front of him, his broad shoulders, his pouty bottom lip, his strong jaw. You feel possessed with the need to …bite him? But, you don’t move.

Dave’s fingers trace lightly down your spine as you continue to unabashedly ogle Joel, who stiffens at the sight of Dave’s hands slipping the straps of your dress over your shoulders. He’s unreadable, but the something simmering beneath the forced calm is contextually obvious. Joel’s trying to keep his cool; he doesn’t flinch, but he shifts, unable to remain still while he can only watch.

Katie always referred to the chair in your room you designated as laundry purgatory as the cuck chair. It was only a joke, but if it isn’t perfect now. You glide across the room, tossing the worn-once sweatshirts and denim into the laundry hamper for future you to sort, offering the seat to Joel. It’s comical how his presence seems so out of place on the thrifted antique parlor chair.

You giggle softly as you spin back toward Dave, eager to find out what his depraved mind is plotting for the rest of the night. Dave’s voice is a low hum as he welcomes you into his arms, “Let’s make sure Joel gets a good look at what he’s missing out on, hm?” You nod, letting Dave arrange you as he pleases. “Pay attention,” he orders Joel, “I’m doing you a favor.” You can hear the devious glee lurking beneath Dave’s controlled tone. Joel’s dark eyes spark with something fierce as they flick to Dave before landing back on you.

You can feel your pulse beating in your neck—and your cunt—as your chest heaves dramatically as Dave’s hands move over you. His touch is both tender and possessive as he makes a show of removing all of your clothes. It’s exaggerated to eat at Joel, but it works you up just the same. Dave pauses, letting his fingers hover over your nipples, brushing them just enough to make you shiver before kneading your soft tits, making you gasp.

“You see that?” Dave asks over your shoulder, addressing Joel. “She’s so needy already. All worked up again. How are you going to satisfy her if she needs my cock right after you make her come?”

You see Joel stiffen, gripping the arms of your chair like he might crush them. He’s still holding on to some semblance of composure, but it’s unraveling. You didn’t expect the dynamic between them to hit you straight in the pussy, but you’re dizzy, humming with anticipation.

“On the bed, greedy girl,” Dave instructs. You follow without question, crawling onto the mattress, your pulse pounding in your ears. Joel’s eyes are glued to you, devouring every inch of your bare skin. It’s impossible for you to look away from him. His struggle as he works so fucking hard not to show how much he wants you, even though it’s written all over his face, is driving you wild. His fingers twitch as if he’s resisting the urge to touch you, to take.

With your head still turned, locked onto the sight of Joel, your mouth parts in a soft gasp as Dave’s broad hands spread your legs wide, exposing your heated skin to the cool air in the room. You break away from your staring contest to catch the searing heat in Dave’s eyes before he lowers, pausing just before his lips brush against your swollen clit. He doesn’t ease the ache yet, lifting his head and turning to Joel with a smirk. “Come closer. You might learn something,” he challenges smugly.

You’d roll your eyes at his arrogance, but then he dives in, tongue sliding against your slick cunt with devastating precision. You can only dig your fingers into your sheets as you arch and moan in response to his expert rhythm. With your eyes squeezed shut and your breath coming in uneven, shallow pants, you relax into the sensation coursing through you.

“Tell him,” Dave hums into your skin, “Tell Joel how good it feels.”

Your eyes flutter open, meeting Joel’s gaze. The sight of him has you at a loss for words. His face is expressionless, but as always, his eyes betray him. Sharp, hungry, and barely containing the storm inside of him. “So… feels, fuck, feels so good.”

Joel’s chest rises and falls heavily. Dave’s taunts don’t hurt Joel’s pride, but watching you fall apart for another man twists his gut harshly. You’re so close he could count the beads of sweat forming on your chest. He can taste you and smell you, and it drives him wild. Like a beast, only held back by his hope to have a chance for more.

Dave chuckles against you, his breath teasing your clit before he wraps his lips around it, sucking hard. The pleasure slams through you, and you cry out, your hips jerking against his mouth. Every nerve ending alight with sensation. You can’t think, only feel.

“She’s so responsive,” Dave gloats.

Joel doesn’t acknowledge the comment. His composure is cracking, the frustration bubbling to the surface. You can see it in the way his jaw clenches, the way his eyes stay glued to the place where Dave’s mouth moves over you with expert ease.

But Dave isn’t done with either of you yet. He pulls back from between your legs, his fingers trailing over your slick skin as he moves to stand. His eyes are alight with that dangerous gleam that makes your heart race. “Let’s show Joel what a dirty girl you are for me.”

You’re eager to obey. “How do you want me?” Your voice is breathy and ragged already. It only crosses your mind now that you’re completely naked while they’re still fully dressed. You sit up, reaching for Dave’s belt before he’s answered you. He takes off his shirt while you work diligently to release his cock. “Look at her, Joel,” Dave taunts, his voice thick with pride and adoration for you. “She just wants to be fucked right.”

Joel swallows hard. The effort it takes to keep himself in check is wavering. He’s burning with the urge to claim you, to show you the meaning of being fucked right, to make you come so hard you forget Dave’s name. His ears ring, tuning Dave out completely, watching you adjust, lying back on your pillows, welcoming Dave between your legs.

Joel is transfixed. Watching as Dave positions himself between your legs and slides into you with an agonizingly slow thrust. Distantly, he can hear you moaning loudly; he can hear Dave continuing to goad him about how tight you are and how he gives you what you need or whatever else he thinks matters. All Joel can process is the sight of Dave’s cock disappearing inside of you. Over and over and over again.

A deep, nauseating wave of embarrassment sinks heavily into Joel’s stomach. You wanted to punish him? Like this? It’s too absurd to be a joke, to be a sick prank. It can’t be some kind of trap. You aren’t cruel like that. Worse. He’s trapped between his anger and arousal. Forced to watch as Dave takes you apart, piece by piece. Tortured by his own cock throbbing painfully in response to everything about you. He looks at your face and feels dismantled by your gaze. Hazy and sweet, you’re staring at him, wet lips parted as you gasp shallowly while Dave keeps up his pace.

Joel’s composure is slipping, his hands flexing before he gives in, trying to readjust. Hoping to find the slightest relief as he palms himself over his jeans. Your brows wrinkle with pleasure, and a breathy “oh, fuck,” slips out of you. Seeing Joel so turned on just from watching you sends you rolling into a warm, vision-blurring climax.

“I know,” Dave coos in your ear as you catch your breath, “I know.” He’s still murmuring against your neck, but it’s the silent exchange with Joel that makes you smile lazily. You think he figured it out, the power he has over you with just his expressions. That he’s the one that has you breathless. “Tell her,” Dave growls over you.

“Good girl,” Joel utters hoarsely, mouth dry. He sees the glow wash over you at his words, and it clicks. Finally. Whatever it is between you affects you just as much. His punishment isn’t watching someone else please you, wondering if they really can make you feel better than he can. Wondering if they’ll treat you better. If you’re better off without Joel at all. No.

It’s knowing they can’t. Knowing you’ve been just as empty without him as he’s been without you. That it’s been his fault. He’s made it worse. You’re all he can fuckin’ think about, and he’s in your head just the same.

And right now his punishment is to wait this night out. To be vulnerable and reveal the truth. The desperate desire he has for you. He’s pathetic with it, honestly. He’ll sit here all night, show you how hard you make him, tell you how badly he wants you, describe how perfect you are, anything. It starts to pour out of him as his jealousy and anger recede. “So good, baby, you look beautiful, like a dream,” Joel’s voice is filled with earnest wonder. You beam, your eyelids heavy with lust as Joel continues. “I want you so bad it hurts. You’ve got me losing my fuckin’ mind.”

“That’s a start,” Dave commends Joel before he shifts, pulling out and flipping you onto your hands and knees. You can hear Joel cursing under his breath as Dave kneads the plush curves of your ass, spreading you wide and showing off your glossy cunt. “You see that? Perfect, right?” He doesn’t wait for Joel to respond, focused on lining himself up and sliding back inside of you as deep as he can.

Dave groans along with you as he lights up every nerve within you, and your pussy contracts coaxing him deeper. He pauses when his hips meet your ass, filling you to the hilt before he wraps an arm around you to pull your back flush against his chest. “Look at him,” Dave tilts your head to be sure you can take in Joel’s wrecked expression. “You think he deserves to touch himself while I’m fucking you?” Dave asks, shifting his attention back to you, mischief twinkling in his eyes.

“No,” you reply, resolute. “He doesn’t deserve it. But I want to watch, so he will.” Dave’s grin widens, reveling in your direct nature. He lowers you, and you adjust, resting your cheek on your pillow so you can watch. “Please, Joel, let me see.” Your begging has the exact effect you wanted on Joel when you hear the throaty groan he makes.

You squirm involuntarily when you finally get a clear view of Joel’s cock, clenching tightly around Dave’s cock. He hums behind you, muttering about how you’re unreal, and he hopes Joel can handle a woman like you as he slowly drags himself almost completely out of you before snapping his hips brutally, slamming back into you.

You’re bewitched. The head of Joel’s cock glistens, weeping with precome, enticing, and menacing as his fist strokes slowly along his shaft. You’re salivating at the debauched scene and drenching Dave’s cock as he continues to slowly work you back up. The sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the room, mingling with your gasps and moans.

“You see that?” Dave asks you, “Look how desperate he is. You think he wants to come?”

“Yes,” you reply, “fuck, yes.”

“Ladies first, though, hm?” Dave muses as he picks up his pace, pushing you closer, finding the perfect angle that makes your mind go blank. The pressure builds inside you, and the louder you get, the more Joel starts to fall apart. Your flip between Joel’s eyes and his fist pumping his cock ravenously. For you. All for you.

That sends you over the edge, wringing all the pleasure out of you, taking Dave with you as he stills against you, cock pulsing hotly inside of you, as your limbs feel weak and you sink into the mattress. You watch as Joel spills over his knuckles, cursing and grunting as he comes, and it makes you giddy.

Dave kisses your shoulder tenderly, praising you quietly, just for you, before he gets up and, like clockwork, heads to the bathroom to clean up and get you a warm washcloth. You continue to grin loosely, giggling softly, still amused by how out of place Joel looks. You see the fear flit across his face, and a cold, nasty feeling rips through you as you brace for the worst. Cruel words spring up, ready to protect you, but you hold your tongue. You won’t guilt him into staying. You can’t choose for him.

It’s a painfully long minute. He doesn��t look at you. You try not to shut down. And then Dave is back, ever the gentleman, with warm washcloths for both of you. He checks in with you softly, “What do you need?”

The words stick in your throat. You sit up and force yourself to get them out. It’s barely above a whisper. “I need to talk to Joel.” He looks at you finally, as if you whispering his name snapped him out of a trance. Dave nods.

“You want me to stay?” Dave asks. You blink at him curiously. Neither of you do sleepovers. You don’t need a bodyguard. You must have it stamped across your forehead like a holiday package: fragile.

“No.”

He takes your word for it, redressing and heading out swiftly. Leaving you alone with Joel.

Unreadable Joel. With no clues in his eyes or his body language. His head follows you, watching as you cross the room to grab a shirt. You honestly wonder if he could disappear in the half a second your vision is obscured while you pull it over your head, but he’s still there. So, you gather your courage and face him head-on.

“Can we talk?”

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inbarfink · 11 months ago

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After all these years, ‘I Remember You’ is still one of the great highlights of Adventure Time Storytelling. And not just in the basic ‘what???? Silly children’s cartoon does something SAD??? HOLY SHIT MIND BLOWN’ way. But with the execution of that Something Sad. How it manages to pack so many Complex Emotions into just 11-minutes of television. And especially the way it utilizes the basic Adventure Time format for that purpose.

So Adventure Time is a Board-based show. Each episode has an outline pitched and written down by the writer’s room, and then this outline goes to a team of (usually) two Storyboard Artists who develop that simple outline into a full story. And with the show’s art-style deliberately eschewing staying perfectly ‘on-model’ in favor of having the animators take direct reference from how the different storyboarders draw the characters

And the show being generally extremely versatile in terms of themes and tone - AT has allowed a lot of their Storyboarders to really express themselves and their unique artistic vision as part of the Big Collaborative Narrative that is Adventure Time.

Now, the Boarders who worked on ‘I Remember You’ are Cole Sanchez and Rebecca Sugar. These two were a Storyboarding Duo from the start of S4 and until Sugar left the AT Crew during S5, and they always struck me as a curious combination. I think really from all of the individual boarders working on AT during that time, these two really are the closest to having like… Totally Opposite Artistic Sensibilities as boarders.

With Sugar favoring a style that is very loose and sketchy and also very rounded. Focusing on expressions and subtle body language and lighting. And being famous for going deep in depth into Big Moments of Emotional Catharsis

And Sanchez having a very clear art style that emphasizes strong silhouettes and clear lines that suggest flatness. Focusing more on major poses and the character’s positions in the space. And having just a really great eye for AT’s brand of silly humor.

Like, I almost kinda suspect these two were paired together so they can each cover for the other’s “weakspots” in writing ‘Adventure Time’.

And there were a few episodes that did some really interesting stuff with this very contrasting pair - ‘Jake the Dog’ is another example. Giving most of the Farmworld scenes to Sugar and most of the Time Room scenes to Sanchez both plays to their personal strengths as storyboarders and helps to emphasize the strong emotional contrast between these two scenarios.

And ‘I Remember You’ is actually kinda unique among Adventure Time episodes cause… Most episodes will have the two boarders alternate between working on the episode throughout it. Like you’d have Boarder A draw a bit and then Boarder B and then Boarder A again… But “I Remember You” is divided between Sanchez and Sugar… basically perfectly in the middle.

So the entirety of the first half of the episode was boarded by Sanchez

Until Ice King pushes Marceline and then leaves the room in shame.

And then, Sugar takes over.

And, like, even if you don’t know anything about the Behind the Scenes of Adventure Time or who Cole Sanchez and Rebecca Sugar even are - the Shift is noticeable. The shift in tone, in narrative focus, in the subtleties in which the characters are drawn.

The entire first half of the episode has this thin veneer of just being a Silly Goofy Ice King Episode. Sanchez’s talent for Adventure Time’s brand of comedy is on full display… but there is also this underlying feeling that Something is Happening just under the surface. And these hints of the Big Emotions of ‘IRY’ expressed via Sanchez’s kinda goofy style really create this balance between putting the audience into a false sense of security that this is just a Very Normal Episode about two characters hanging out and the Tension constantly brewing in the subtext.

And then it all comes to a blow.

And then the Shift happens. And now we are in Sugar’s court.

And this subtle shift in the artstyle and storytelling also coincide with Marceline finally openly expressing her feelings and the Reveal of Simon and Marcy's shared past. The episode changes focus from Ice King's silly antics to Marceline's feelings. Everything changes, everything in the first part of the episode gets recontextualized and... even on the most basic level, the episode is now Noticeably Different.

I would almost say that Sanchez’s half of the episode has Ice King define the tone, while Sugar’s half of the episode has Marceline define the tone. But more than anything it’s the catharsis. The reveal and release of those emotions that were building up so expertly through the Sanchez half of the episode. All of the Sugar-boarded scenes in this episode are really heartbreaking on their own, just through the tragedy of the story and Sugar’s expert knowledge of howto convey emotion in the visual medium - but it’s so enchanted by what came before it.

“I Remember You” is truly a great testament to how ‘Adventure Time’ could use every aspect of its medium to tell a great story in such a short time.

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redflagshipwriter · 4 months ago

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Check Yes ch 10

masterpost

“Why are you so cheerful?” Damian narrowed his eyes up at Dick, as if he could possibly intimidate his elder brother. “And why are you still here? Return to Bloodhaven at once, where someone might desire your presence.” He dropped his phone on the bench with a clack and roughly pulled his sweatshirt over his head. His hair floofed up after it, trailing with static electricity.

Wow, someone was still holding a grudge over him spilling the beans about the elementary school art show. Why so cranky? Cass and Stephanie hadn’t done anything embarrassing, they’d just come with him and said that it was nice. Damian had done this family portrait thing where no one had eyes or hands. It was avante garde or something. Dick didn’t really get it, but the technical proficiency was really impressive.

Dick bounced on his heels a bit as he got his gloves on. He felt his hair bounce with the movement. He felt extremely light and breezy. “Because you would miss me,” he teased.

Damian grunted and looked away. He yanked open his locker and pretended that he was the only one in the changing room as he pulled off his pajama pants and started to wiggle into the Robin uniform. The leg armor squeaked as he forced it up and into place.

Quiet footsteps padded into the room. Dick caught sight of Timmy in his locker mirror.

‘He will definitely be up for fucking with Jason and his date a little.’

“There is a little something going on tonight,” Dick said, faux casually. He cracked his neck and then started going through the double check of all the fastenings of his uniform and basic equipment. “Remember earlier, when Duke sent that odd message?”

Damian grunted.

“Well, I looked into it, and-”

“Holy shit, Jason is calling out of patrol tonight in the group chat.” Stephanie’s voice trailed faintly over the divider between the locker rooms. “Do you see this shit, Nicki Minaj?”

Dick blinked. “Nicki Min-”

That apparently meant Tim, who lunged for his phone and unlocked it. He stared in disbelief for a moment. “Is he allowed to do that?” he asked. He scrunched his face up, clearly disturbed.

‘Makes sense, but does that mean I’m going to be chasing Jason, not Red Hood?’ Dick crinkled up his nose and thought about it. Probably not? He didn’t want to give anyone the impression that Jason’s civilian ID was being hunted by law enforcement. Jay probably just didn’t want Dick to be able to track him down too easily. Fair enough. 5 of them on patrol was quite honestly a lot more than Gotham needed on an average night.

Damian snorted. “Don’t be absurd,” he sneered. “We are all entitled to a certain number of rest days per week. Have you forgotten the holistic wellness powerpoint presentation so easily, you despicable fool?”

“Shut up, nerd.” Tim held his phone in Damian’s face.

Damian stared at it without blinking for a long few seconds. “...I was not aware this was a genre of action of which he was capable.” He looked incredibly troubled.

The expression wiped off of Dick’s face.

‘What did that little shit do?’

“Maybe it’s a sick mind game?” Stephanie suggested, voice lifting in question.

Dick yanked his locker open and dug his phone out. He unlocked it in a blur of motion, already scowling.

Jay had sent a picture to the birdchat with a selfie of him and a man who must be Danny, the dead guy on the other end of the sacrifice contract. They were leaning together over a dinner table. Jay was cheesing for the camera, a glint in his eye that said he knew he was being a little shit. Danny looked kinda dazed, which probably meant he wasn’t quite wild enough for their life. Dick nearly felt a tinge of guilt about tagging him into their rivalry, but hey, it was just a friendly game.

The accompanying message was, “Can’t patrol tonight, I’m spending time with the boyfriend. Stay safe, losers and Steph.”

Dick huffed. He slammed his locker shut. Fine. So, he didn’t get to share the exciting news! That was fine. That was fair, even. Jay should get to launch his own relationship. It was just kinda-

Wait. He scrambled to open the locker again and looked at the selfie again.

He knew the wall behind them. It was an Italian place where Jay laundered money from the sale of imported Dutch narcotics.

‘They have to still be there,’ he realized, mind running through the minutes since he had confirmed with Babs via camera that the two were at the planetarium. He grinned like the Grinch and rushed out. “Bye, see you out there,” he called over his shoulder to the locker room and snatched up his helmet. He had already changed, after all! No need to wait around for the slowpokes and the old man who still wasn’t even coming down the Bat staircase yet.

Nightwing flung himself onto his motorcycle and tore off into the night. He crossed the bridge into Gotham, a flash of blue reflected off the choppy water below. It felt like minutes until he kicked out the stand for his bike and dismounted, clicking the protective tech on without stopping for a minute. He took the rickety, rust-red stairs up the outside of the building and slithered in the stairwell.

He wasn’t an amateur. He knew that Jay knew what he’d done. He was expecting Dick to come here. But that didn’t mean Dick couldn’t gain ground. Jay might still be here. Dick crept out into the restaurant through the kitchen, ducking out of sight from the line cook and bursting through the kitchen double doors in utter silence.

His gaze went unerringly to the table where the photo had been taken. A grim-faced waiter looked up, pristine white cloth in the process of wiping it down. “There’s a note for you,” he said. He indicated the receipt with a head tilt and finished his task, wiping down the salt shaker and other accoutrement.

Boo. Dick deflated. “Thank you,” he said. It was too much to expect for this to end first thing. Ah. He cheered up at the realization that this was better, actually. He was clearly only minutes behind them. The game wouldn’t be fun if it was too easy, after all. With that in mind he felt pretty chipper as he reached for the no doubt taunting note Jay would have left him on the back of the receipt. In his peripheral vision he noted the waiter picking up a short mop and running it over the floor under where Jay and Danny’s feet would have been.

…A riddle. They left him a riddle. “How does water fall onto a cranky little stormcloud?” Puzzled, he blinked. Uh, water going up? Something about condensation, about pipes, about… stormcloud? He crinkled his eyebrows and thought about Damian’s thunderous little face, chubby cheeks and all, positively sick with fury that Dick had betrayed him by attending his art show.

He had a bad feeling. He looked up. There, in the unfinished rafters, alien green eyes stared down at him predatorily from an inhumanly pale face.

Dick froze. Jason’s boyfriend was clinging to the ceiling like goddamn Dracula climbing down the castle wall, one clawed hand wrapped around a rafter, feet braced against another in a way that made his limbs look just slightly too long and angular. The other hand was holding a bucket.

Fuck. Dick dodged in a roll and barely evaded the bulk of the splash zone.

“Loser!” Jason’s voice called out.

Dick whipped his head over to see his brother grinning at him from the kitchen in a goddamn kitchen staff apron. “Bitch!” he said, appalled. Had he really walked past him without realizing it? No way. Just no way. He looked back up and jolted.

Danny was gone.

Fuck!

He looked back at the kitchen just in time to see Danny drape himself over Jason’s shoulder in a boneless way, flash a grin with teeth that were far too long, and then… and then. They both faded out of sight as Dick rushed the door. There was no hint as to where they had gone.

‘I should have gotten tactical information about Danny’s ghost abilities before I challenged them. This is on me, a little bit. I’ll have to have Babs take a look… No, not yet. They’re probably going around by one of Jason’s bikes, I can check on what’s missing and plug the license plate number into the auto search program.’’

“Excuse me.”

Disheartened, Dick blinked back at the waiter, who had already mopped up the water that Danny had dropped on him. He was impassively holding out another wet towel.

”...Thank you,” Dick said, and dried his left shin off so he stopped leaving drips across the restaurant.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dead on main #red check yes

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royalrebelpropaganda · 3 months ago

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MIRROR, MIRROR: AN EVER AFTER HIGH ZINE ANNOUNCEMENT !!

holy SHIT did we get a lot of attention. the preliminary polls can be found here: POLL 1 ; POLL 2. each got well over 100 votes, and I'm hoping we can keep rolling with that energy to get some contributors!!!!

MIRROR, MIRROR: AN EVER AFTER HIGH ZINE

Ever After High fundamentally builds on the idea of narrative parallels through the double-sided coin of a story, the two narrators, and the clearly divided ideological forces. We are using those narrative parallels as the fundamental theme for this zine. Whether you're interested in romantic relationships (hero x villain, royal x rebel), familial ties (twins, parallels between mother and daughter), or platonic or ideological ideals (royal vs rebel conflict) -- we want a zine built on DUALITY, PARALLEL, and LEGACY.

THE APPLICATION FORM IS HERE:

(I'm sorry, you do have to log in to be able to upload files to google forms, but I am NOT collecting email addresses. if this causes any inaccessibility for applying for you, please just DM me and we can work it out.)

APPLICATIONS WILL CLOSE OCTOBER 18, 2024.

#sockspeaks #ever after high #eah #mirror mirror eah zine #<- this will be the official tag #for now at least #zine #applications

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solarmorrigan · 2 months ago

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No Accounting for Taste

For the @steddie-spooktober day 11 prompt: "That is the dumbest looking jack-o-lantern I've ever seen." Rated: T | Words: 1114 | CW: None | Tags: established relationship, bickering, fluff, annoying older brother behavior Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Follows day 3: Tastes Better on You

“Wait, no, not like that.”

“Do you want to do this?”

“No, I just – like, you should make it a little pointier there and–”

“I will give you the knife, just–”

“Steve, if you’re going to stab Eddie, can I have his share of the pumpkin seeds?”

Steve and Eddie both look up from the pumpkin they’ve been arguing over to where Max has spoken from across the kitchen.

“Also, I’ll need a new ride home, if you do,” she adds, her own focus still on carving out the mouth of the pumpkin she and El are collaborating on.

“I’m not going to stab Eddie.” Steve rolls his eyes. “At least, not if he makes up his mind.”

“I have made up my mind!” Eddie insists. “It’s very made up! I’m trying to impart my vision of a perfect jack-o-lantern to you, and things are getting lost in translation.”

“Uh huh.” Steve turns an unimpressed look back on the pumpkin. “You want the eyes pointier?”

“Yeah. Really make those corners sharp,” Eddie says, dragging his finger around the edges of the eyes Steve has already carved in.

“Well, I’m wielding a steak knife, but I’ll see what I can do,” Steve drawls.

“I’m using a steak knife and I’m not having problems,” Dustin pipes up from behind his pumpkin.

“Having problems keeping quiet is what you’re having,” Steve mutters, already applying himself to carving out the corners of the eyes, and Eddie snorts out a laugh.

Sharing a pumpkin had seemed like such a good idea at first. Max had offered to share with El, since El had never carved a pumpkin before, and they aren’t having issues. And at first, neither had Eddie and Steve; Eddie had dealt with the “slimy shit” and gutted the pumpkin, as promised, and then he’d pressed the handle of the knife into Steve’s hand.

“I killed it, now you’re going to carve it,” he’d insisted.

(This had been as much to include Steve as it had been to keep him from snapping at anyone who came too close to getting pumpkin innards on the kitchen floor.)

“Are you sure?” Steve had asked. “I haven’t carved a pumpkin in a long time. I don’t even know what to put on there.”

“Of course I’m sure.” Eddie had pecked a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “You carve, I’ll direct. I have a vision.”

It turns out, however, that getting Steve to see his vision has been rather difficult. It has so far involved a lot of charades, references to movies Steve hasn’t seen, and one instance of attempting to use Mike as a prop (this had been short-lived and not particularly helpful). The results are… mixed.

Steve is certainly getting the eyes to a finer point, though Eddie will admit there are limitations in using a steak knife as a carving tool (he would, however, love to see Mrs. Harrington’s face if she were to learn that her nice cutlery had been used on pumpkins by a feral pack of teenage misfits). The nose needs some fine-tuning, and the mouth is… well, Steve had done his best. That one’s kind of on Eddie; he’d told Steve to make the teeth “needlelike,” and a few had come out so thin that they’d snapped right off.

But the remaining ones do look like needles!

“Okay, so, for the ears–” Eddie starts, only to be cut off when Steve’s head snaps up from his work.

“Just how complicated is this thing supposed to be?” he demands.

“We’re almost done, I swear.” Eddie tosses his hands up in surrender.

Eyeing him with suspicion, Steve is likely just about to tell Eddie how far he trusts that assurance when Mike stumbles right into their staring match.

“Hey, do you guys have the– holy shit.” He pauses, whatever it is he’d been about to ask for forgotten as he takes in an eyeful of their pumpkin. “That is the dumbest looking jack-o-lantern I’ve ever seen.”

“Okay, y’know what, Wheeler?” Steve gestures at Mike, apparently forgetting (probably?) that he’s holding a knife as he does so.

“Actually, Michael,” Eddie jumps in, subtly pushing Steve’s hand down in the process, “our jack-o-lantern is genius.”

Mike shoots him an impressively bitchy look of disbelief, so Eddie goes on.

“See, the rest of you can have your pretty, symmetrical pumpkins, carved up all nice and neat, but do you know what that’s going to attract?” Eddie looks around at the assembled teenagers without waiting for an answer. “Vandals! Nothing is more tempting on Halloween night than the prospect of smashing a perfectly carved jack-o-lantern.”

“And you know this, how?” Lucas snarks.

Eddie ignores him. “Meanwhile, mine and Steve’s masterpiece will be practically invisible. It’ll escape the night unscathed and live to see the dawn of November!”

“Because it looks like someone already kicked it in,” Mike deadpans.

“It’s called camouflage, Wheeler,” Eddie shoots back.

“D’you think Mike’s will be the first to go?” Steve leans in, stage whispering to Eddie.

“It’s a pretty tempting target,” Eddie agrees in an undertone that isn’t at all quiet. “But then, Henderson’s is pretty big…”

“Hey!” Dustin squawks, popping up from behind the pumpkin that had nearly taken both him and Steve to get from the van to the kitchen.

This is the beginning of squabble over whose pumpkin is nicest and thus most likely to be vandalized, and whether or not this is a compliment, which Eddie observes with glee.

“Steve!” El calls over the ruckus. “I am finished with the seeds.”

While Steve can’t stand the feeling of pumpkin guts on his skin, El had deiced the sensation was a delight, and so had been tasked with separating the seeds from the pulp for roasting. She’d taken to the task with single-minded zeal, only emerging to offer the occasional opinion as Max carved their pumpkin.

“That’s my cue.” Steve hands the knife to Eddie and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’ll let you take care of the ears.”

Eddie watches as Steve crosses through the chaos of the kitchen, dodging waving hands and piles of pumpkin chunks to reach El on the other side.

“Wow,” Steve says, eyeing the large bowl she’s nearly filled, “that is a shit-ton of seeds.”

“A shit-ton,” El agrees solemnly.

“Yep, Hopper’s going to appreciate me teaching you that one.” Steve claps his hands together. “C’mon, let’s get those rinsed, and then we’ll season them.”

Turning back to the mess that is their shared jack-o-lantern, surrounded by the din of arguing teenagers, Eddie can’t help but grin. There’s really no saving the thing, but he thinks he loves it anyway.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #the party #stranger things #steddie-spooktober #eddie & the party #steve & the party #solar wrote #eddiesteve

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cassiefromhell · 1 year ago

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Lollipops

Post-War: Levi Ackerman x Reader

wc: 4.3k

warnings: SPOILERS. im so serious guys. SPOILERS. if you havent watched/read to the FINALE, do not progress. you've been warned. also theres a little tiny bit of gore.

a/n: this is self-defense writing to protect my sanity after the last ep. im so not okay with it being over. also requests are open, i'll write anything! also, this is written in flashbacks. but never fear, the flashbacks are separated from the present by dividers, so you'll know when it switches.

“You two are like a fairytale couple,” a young girl giggles, hugging a pink-covered book to her chest. “Like a damsel and her prince.”

You smile, pulling a lollipop out of your box — and then another, handing them to her. “Take two for sweet-talking me. But remember that true love isn’t perfect by any means.”

She grins, nods, and takes her candy, sprinting off into an old woman’s arms. You sigh softly, looking up to see that the line of children coming to receive candy from Paridian heroes is momentarily empty.

“Not perfect, huh?” Levi asks from beside you, shifting in his chair.

You roll your eyes, gently flicking the side of his head. You crouch down to be on his level. “You’re saying that we had a fairytale romance? That you swept me off my feet and carried me away from danger?”

“Yes. I would. Now get your ass up, I don’t need you to get down for me,” he scowls, his eyes flicking over your kneeling form.

“I would get down on my knees for you anyti—”

“Up.”

You grin, but listen to him and stand up, picking up your box once more. “Fairytale, huh? So what are you, the savior?”

“I’d say it’s even. Although, I remember saving your ass much more often than you saved mine.”

You scoff, putting your hands on your hips. “Name a time!”

“Get your ass up, scout!”

You groan, shoving yourself up onto your elbows. “Just a sec,” you manage between heavy breaths, coughing and coughing.

Hoofbeats approach and you whimper, knowing that if that’s the captain you think it is, you’re about to get the beating of a lifetime.

“Why, exactly, are you laying in the dust?” Captain Levi Ackerman asks, tone cold and voice sharp as a knife. “You’re a transfer, not a cadet. From the MP’s, even. I expected better.”

“I’m recovering from an injury, Captain,” you wheeze out, pressing a hand to your side and shoving yourself up onto your knees. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

“You’d better be. Now, up. On your feet, or be left behind.”

You pull one foot under you, then the other, and nearly collapse. His arm shoots out to grab your bicep, effectively keeping you up as your side screams in protest, ribs aching and tears springing to your eyes.

“What kind of an injury?” he asks, his grip tightening. “Why on earth would you switch to the Survey Corps while injured?”

“Ribs,” you hiss, gripping your side. The doctors have said that nearly all your ribs on your right side are either bruised, fractured, or completely broken. “And I had no choice. I had to leave.”

He narrows his eyes, but slowly releases you, making sure you’re not going to fall over the second he lets go. “You’re in no condition to be training, and I don’t need you getting worse. I have no interest in crippled soldiers. Go inside and get yourself assigned to kitchen duty for the next two weeks, on Ackerman’s orders.”

Your eyes slowly shift up from the ground to him, and you get your first good look at him.

And holy shit, the rumors of Humanity’s Strongest did not mention how mouth-wateringly attractive he is.

You give the dumbest nod you’ve ever given and turn on your heel. You hobble your way inside, and then immediately lean against a cold, stone wall, repeating to yourself in your head over and over again:

We are not falling for a captain.

You open and close your mouth, then shrug. “Okay, but of course you were going to save my ass a lot while I was training. I’m sure it got better once I was a captain.”

“Did it, though?”

You elbow him, scowling. A smirk dances on his lips.

A woman grinning ear-to-ear starts your way, and you narrow your eyes. “She’s too old for candy.”

“Reporter,” Levi grumbles, looking down into his box, as if not making eye contact will stop her from approaching.

“Hi!” She shouts, giving a big wave. “I was hoping to ask you two a quick few questions, while you’re not too busy.”

“We’re quite busy,” Levi drones.

“Ah! I had heard about that grumpy attitude!” The reporter laughs, then looks at you. “And you must be his sunshine!”

You scratch the back of your neck, shrugging. “Something like that.”

The reporter whips out a pen and paper. “Now, all sources say that tog two have been married for quite some time, but nothing ever tells me when you two met, or how! Do tell.”

“We met in the service,” you start, rubbing your chin. “I had just transferred to the military police, so I was starting fresh in the Survey Corps.”

She quirks a brow. “Why did you transfer?”

The air simply won’t come to your lungs. You can’t breathe. The night sky doesn’t help, the fresh cool air is only suffocating you more.

You drop to the grass in the courtyard, one hand on your healing side and the other around your throat. Tears pour down your face, and you cough, and cough, and cough, and gasp.

It was just a nightmare, you tell yourself, but it doesn’t help. You can still remember what really happened, his hand around your neck, boot in your side, the bruises along each ridge of your spine from being tossed into a wall.

Your ribs may have been almost fully healed now, after two months being a Scout, but you still can feel each kick he gave you just for telling him no.

“Breathe.”

You sputter, looking up to see Captain Levi kneeling in front of you. He grips your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.

“Breathe, come on. Take a deep breath.”

You try, you really do, but you only end up sobbing harder. Your hands clench the grass.

He sighs heavily, scooting over to your side and awkwardly patting your back. “Breathe.”

You manage to slow your breathing, and take a few good deep breaths. Then you immediately stumble to your feet. “…Sorry. I’ll head back now.”

His hand is around your wrist before you can even register that he’s gotten up. “Why are you out here so late, crying in the damn courtyard?”

“It’s nothing. Just a bad dream, you murmur, tugging your hand away from him and heading back inside.

You feel assessing eyes on your back as you walk, and you can’t help but look down at your hand, that hand that you wore a ring on for a year and a half.

You’ve fallen silent, chewing your lip and looking off to the side. The reporter tilts her head, raising a brow.

“She just needed a fresh start,” Levi answers for you, placing a hand on your hip for reassurance. “And that’s what she got.”

She accepts that answer, writing down the words. “Now, how did you two end up together? Was it live at first sight?”

Levi scoffs. “Far from it.”

You glare at him. “Well, I liked you.”

“No, you hated me. You just wanted to fuck.”

“Thank you, Hange,” you grin, folding up the card again and tucking it back into the envelope, which reads ‘Congrats, new Captain!’. “I really appreciate it.”

A year in the Survey Corps flew by fast, and you had shown immense skill in the craft, therefore earning the title of Captain of your very own squad.

But your skills weren’t the only thing that had developed. You and Levi tolerated each other now, even if he thought you were loud and chaotic and you thought he was grumpy and sad, like a lonely old man.

And yet, you were drawn to him. He was handsome, and every once in a while you’d say something that would make his mouth tilt up, and… that mouth. It would be the death of you.

Hange heads out, leaving you alone in your room for the first time in hours. Everybody had been in and out, offering congratulations and words of advice.

You sink back onto your bed, yawning. It’s been a long day, and now you just want to sleep—

But a knocking comes on your door, and in walks Levi.

“I could have been naked,” you grin as he strides over, dumping a pile of paperwork on your desk.

“Captains have more paperwork than everybody else. I’ve been assigned to show you how to fill it out.”

“I bet you were hoping I was naked” you tease, but get up anyway, running a hand down your face as you stand next to him.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You’re boring.”

“Boring? Really?”

“Yeah.”

There is a short silence, with Levi sorting through the papers. And suddenly, you are very aware of the fact that you are in your bedroom, alone, with Levi Ackerman.

And apparently he’s aware of it too, because he gives you a look.

And then you jump on him.

The reporter laughs and scratches a few things down on her pad of paper, her eyes crinkling around the edges. “And what year was this?”

“We met in 846, and then started seeing each other romantically in 847,” you explain. You open a lollipop and stick it in your mouth.

The reporter only stares at you, a brow lifted and eyes narrowed.

“Eleven years ago,” Levi says, and then she nods and writes it down.

“What—”

“Different years,” Levi murmurs, shaking his head. “They’re in the damn 1900’s, remember.”

You flush, blood rushing to your ears and cheeks. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been with the rest of the world, you always forget that years are different and you can take a plane somewhere and getting a papercut doesn’t mean you might die of sepsis.

For you, it’s still 858.

“Did you two personally know Eren Jaeger?”

You crouch by the bars, tilting your head as you examine him. Just a child. Skinny. He couldn’t hurt a fly.

“This is the titan child?” You ask, squinting. “He’s, what, fifteen?”

“Yes. Please step back,” Levi says. “You don’t need to be that close.”

“He’s like a fleck of dirt in a crop field. I need to be this close to see him. Are you sure he really—“

The chains on his arms rattle, and you skitter back, slamming into the wall beside Levi.

“Careful,” he scowls, brushing dirt off of your shoulder.

“What… happened?” The boy asks, rubbing his eyes.

Erwin launches into a full explanation, and by the time he’s done the boy looks completely lost.

“You’re… the commander of the Survey Corps,” he looks at Erwin, “…And Captain Levi, and Captain {Y/N}… where am I?”

“A dungeon—”

Erwin keeps speaking, but a thump near the staircase catches your attention. You stride off, past the MP guards, and peek around the corner.

There, struggling against a guard, is the young girl that you’ve been told is Mikasa.

You scowl, shutting the door behind yourself and storming up to her.

“Calm down,” you whisper, taking both her wrists in one hand and pushing her up against a wall. “Do you realize what you’re risking here?”

“You don’t understand, I need to see him—”

“Shut up. You’re risking his freedom by coming this close. Go back upstairs.”

She glares at you, damn near baring her teeth. But you hold firm, and she slowly nods.

“Good, now go.”

You release her, and with one final glance over her shoulder, she trudges up the stairs.

You run a hand through your hair, thinking to yourself: these new scouts are going to be an issue, aren’t they?

“Yes,” you say, nodding. “We knew all of the kids.”

“All of them?” she asks, furiously scratching down your words.

“We were both captains when Eren’s year entered the corps — we trained them. Of course we knew them all.”

“On my squad,” you read off of your paper, speaking to the large crowd in front of you — all the scouts that will be on the next expedition. “…I am pulling in an extra scout. Mikasa Ackerman will join me in the center ranks.”

Whispers run through the crowd, and you step off of the stage, taking your spot next to Levi in the captains line. Erwin picks up a speech, talking about the squad formations.

A tap on your shoulder makes you turn, and your eyes widen as you’re met with your favorite chaos trio: Jean, Sasha, and Connie.

“Get into your formation,” you hiss.

“But, here’s the thing,” Jean whispers. “I’ve been really great during training. What do I have to do to get on your squad?”

“Jean!” you narrow your eyes. “You are not getting on my squad.”

“I would bring you food every day,” Sasha pleads, putting her hands out in a prayer position. “Please! We’d be the best squad ever.”

You actually pause to consider that for the food, but Levi stomps on your foot. “Ow— Uhm, no. Now return to formation or I’ll bump you down a squad.”

They skitter off, moving through the crowd. You just hope that they’ll go to the right place this time.

You sigh, facing forward again. You’ve already heard everything that Erwin has to say, so this is all repeat to you.

You brush your hand against Levi’s, and his pinky touches yours. You lock them together, resisting the urge to just lean into his warmth.

Pinkies locked, you wait out the rest of the assembly.

“Would you say you were close with any of them?”

Levi shrugs. “They respected me. They loved her.”

“Oh, they loved you too,” you grin, patting his shoulder. “Loved you enough for Historia to smack you the second she was legally allowed to.”

“Have there been any hardships?” The reporter cuts in.

You pause. Levi pauses.

“Of course,” he murmurs, voice softer now. He brushes his fingertips against your thigh.

As soon as you make it in through the gate, Levi is at your side, pulling his horse up next to yours.

“Let me look,” he murmurs, beckoning with his hand.

You shake your head, cradling your messily bandaged hand to your chest. “No.”

“{Y/N}. Let me look,” his voice is more stern now.

You know the damage. You found a cloaked figure up high in the trees, you went for the attack, and they were faster than you. It was a clean cut. Your index and middle fingers are gone, as well as a chunk of your thumb.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“I can’t take it off ‘till I reach the medics,” you whisper back, turning away from him. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

But he doesn’t leave. He stays by your side, silently. He rides with you all the way to the scout headquarters, silently. He walks with you to the medics, without a single word.

The medics take one look at you, and, having heard that you were coming in, usher you into a private room.

There are three medics with you, which means they consider your injury a serious one.

The lead medic closes the door, and then turns to you with a pitiful smile. “Let’s take a look, alright captain?”

You cradle your hand closer to your chest. You feel like a child, not wanting to accept what’s happened. But it’s… your hand… this is forever.

Levi gently touches your arm. “You don’t have to look.”

You can’t remember the last time Levi was so soft with you. You’ve been with him for years by now, but he’s just not a soft person.

Nevertheless, he pulls your face against his shoulder, stroking your hair. He carefully pulls your wrapped hand away from you, holding it out for the medics.

You feel it immediately when they start pulling the bandages off, and you bury your face into Levi’s shirt, whimpering.

“You’re alright. They’ve almost got it off,” he murmurs, holding your face against his chest.

The wrapping falls away, and there’s a soft gasp from one of the medics, followed by Levi stiffening.

“Is it bad?” you moan, crying out as someone prods something painful.

“Do you want me to lie?”

“No.”

“It’s not good. But it’s a clean cut, so they’re going to clean it and stitch it up for you. You’ll be fine.”

You fist his shirt. “…Please don’t go.”

He pulls you a little closer. “I won’t. I won’t leave your side.”

The next thing you know, they’ve stuck your hand in alcohol, and you’re screaming.

You tuck your half-hand into your pocket, out of the reporter’s watchful gaze.

“But you two are married, correct?”

Levi nods. “Yes.”

“When were you married?”

You look to Levi, smiling softly. “Well, twice. Once in Paradis, and they don’t acknowledge Paridian marriage licenses here, so we did it all over again a couple years ago.”

“When was the first time?”

Your hand has become a focus for you.

Just as you lay in bed now, holding your two and a half fingers above your head. The stitches have been taken out, leaving you with pinky and ring fingers, two little nubs cut below the first knuckle, and half of a thumb. It’s still healing, but this is pretty much what your hand will look like. Forever. Till the day you finally croak.

The door swings open, and you immediately feel Levi’s cold, calculating gaze. “Are you picking at it again?”

“No,” you roll your eyes. “Just looking. Y’know, at least I still have a ring finger.”

“Why does that matter?” He asks. He takes off his jacket and hangs it up, then sits on the bed beside you and starts on his boots.

“So one day I could wear a wedding ring.”

He pauses. You pause, realizing what just came out of your mouth.

He turns to face you, leaving one boot on and the other half off. “You’re interested in marriage.”

Suddenly your face feels hot. “…Yeah.”

“To me?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s really what you want?”

You nod, chewing your lip.

“Then marry me.” His face stays completely blank.

You sit up slowly, eyes wide. “You— you wanna marry me?”

“You already know that I love you. If you want marriage, it’s only logical that—”

You cut him off by tackling him, sending the both of you tumbling off the bed. Levi twists so that he’ll hit the ground and you’re just land on him, but you have no time to ask if he’s okay between all the kisses you’re showering across his face.

He scoffs. “Enough, woman.”

“You wanna be stuck with me!? Really?!” You grin, sitting up to be straddling his waist.

“I guess so.”

You throw your arms over your head, starting to sing to yourself. “You looooove me, you wanna maaaarry me, I’m gettin’ maaaarried,” you snap to your own little beat, dancing on his waist.

You look down at him, beaming, just to find him watching you with soft gray eyes.

“I love you,” he whispers.

The reporter smiles and nods, then looks over her notes. “Well, I just have one more question, and then I’ll leave you two be.”

Levi looks quite ready to be done, so you speak up. “Just make it quick.”

She nods, looking up at you one last time. “Did everyone else know you two were together?”

You sigh, reaching behind you and pulling your hair out of its ponytail. It’s been a long day, and all you want is to refill your ODM fuel for tomorrow and go to bed.

You approach the supply closet, but pause when you hear voices. You peer in, eyes widening at the sight.

Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Reiner, and Bertholdt all crowd around a table, coins in piles. But there are no cards. No game.

“Listen,” Connie says, throwing up his hands. “It’s just gotta be someone in the Survey Corps. There’s no way it’s not!”

“But wouldn’t we know if it was?” Jean adds, rubbing his chin. “There aren’t too many options.”

“Miche?” Mikasa proposes, spinning a coin in her fingers.

“What? No,” Eren scoffs. “Absolutely not. Armin, what do you think?”

Armin lets out a low whistle, shaking his head. “I already lost my money on the bet that Captain {Y/N} would stay single. I thought she was the type to not want or need a man.”

Ah. So they’re betting… on my love life!?

“Well, she’s wearing a ring, that’s for sure…” Sasha rubs her chin. “What if it’s Levi?”

There’s a beat of silence.

Everyone in the room erupts into laughter.

“Ha! Her and Levi? When pigs fly!” Eren laughs, banging his fist on the table.

“You’re such an idiot,” Connie grins, shoving Sasha. “I’d say she’s a lesbian before that!”

You smirk and roll your eyes, walking away from the room. You just know that they’re gonna be knocked off their feet when they find out.

“No, no, it took them quite a while to find out,” you laugh, shaking your head. “They couldn’t have guessed it if they’d put all their little brains together — and believe me, they did.”

“So, how did they find out?”

“Alrighty, Armin,” you sigh, running a hand over your head. “Let’s get this transformation done. The area is cleared for miles, so just give me a few minutes to get out of dodge, and you’ll get the smoke signal to go ahead.”

He nods, chewing his lip.

“Hey,” you pat his shoulder. “You’ve got this.”

With that done, you turn, shooting your grappling hooks into a tree and soaring off into the forest.

After a few minutes, you’re damn near in the safe zone.

Near.

And then the sky lights up like a Christmas tree.

As expected, a massive explosion sounds behind you, and your ears immediately start to ring. More concerning, however, is the shrapnel made of trees and dirt and rocks flying your way.

You shriek, turning forward once more and zipping your way through the trees. Except, you have to hold your left sword in a weird way because of your hand, and then a gush of wind hits you and—

The branch you’re swinging from snaps, and you’re sent tumbling to the ground, unable to right yourself.

The grass gets nearer and nearer, and you fumble with your swords. But you won’t make it. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, and accept your fate—

Until you collide with Levi’s chest, and his arms are around you, and you’re zipping towards the safe zone.

“Holy shit,” you wheeze, coughing on stirred up dust. You grip his shoulders, shaking from all of the adrenaline rushing through you.

You’re back in the group with the others in no time, and Levi immediately puts you on the ground. But you don’t get a hug and a ‘thank god you’re alive.’ No, Levi puts his hands on your shoulders and shakes you.

“Are you crazy?” He hisses, gripping your jaw with one hand. “I’ve told you to hold your swords upside down like I do, so this wouldn’t happen. You almost died, and all because of your idiocy—”

“Levi—”

“No, I don’t want to hear it. You cannot go dying on me, you hear me? I will not lose you.”

You bite your lip, putting a hand on his chest. “Levi…”

“You are such a fucking idiot. I cannot believe I married someone who would risk her own life like that. You need to value yourself, damn it! You cannot leave me here alone—”

You shut him up with a kiss, rooting your hand in his hair. He kisses you back without hesitation, his hands flying to your waist.

“You’re not going to lose me,” you murmur, pulling away. “You saved me. You caught me. And I’m confident that you always will.”

His jaw clenches, a muscle feathering, and he opens his mouth, but a voice from the right interrupts whatever he had planned to say.

“Did I, uh… miss a chapter?” Jean asks.

You look over to find almost all of Eren’s friend group standing there, dumbfounded. Hange sits up in a tree, grinning ear to ear, but they’ve known about you two for years.

You grin, shaking your head. “The money goes to Sasha.”

“AND YOU ALL CALLED ME STUPID!” Sasha shrieks, throwing her hands up in the air.

“That’s all I need,” the reporter nods, and closes her notebook, tucking away her pen. “Nice meeting you two, heroes.”

She leaves with a wink, and just in time, because a little refugee boy has approached, hands behind his back.

You give him a soft smile, kneeling to be on his level. “Would you like a lollipop?”

The boy nods, giving a shy smile.

Levi reaches into his box, holding out a blue lollipop. He gives the child his softest smile, and in that smile you see it all.

You see the man that saved your ass more times than you can count. The man who presses a kiss to your temple when he thinks you’ve fallen asleep. The man who blushes when you run your hands down his chest. The man who doesn’t give anyone that soft smile of his, except for on very rare occasions.

Your man.

The center of your universe.

The boy takes his lollipop, bows at the waist, and then skitters off with a mumbled ‘thank you.’

You watch him go, and then you turn back, met with Levi, holding out a lollipop to you.

You press a kiss to his scarred knuckles and take it, giving him your own soft smile. “I love you.”

“Yeah, you too, brat,” he chuckles, turning back to the box of candy.

And you remember the nights you spent eating sweets he brought back for you from town.

You remember every night with him.

Because Levi is your world. Your one and only.

And he always will be, from now until the end of time.

@jeannineee be proud of me bitch <3

#fanfiction #aot #levi aot #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfic #attack on titan fanfiction #levi ackerman #captain levi #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #second person #2nd person pov #post war aot #cassiefromhell

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pansyfemme · 3 months ago

Note

I’ve got a question about packing- so I know some packers can be used as dildos as well (at least that’s what my high school trans friends said) so my question is- can *every* dildo be used as a packer? Or is it like- some packers are dildos but not all dildos are packers. I’m messing around with my gender identity and just trying to have fun with it. I’d like to wear my 9 inch sparkly pink n blue dildo out but im not sure if there’s a difference in the way packers lay in the underwear vs dildos. Sorry if this is convoluted ahsjfjsk I always talk too much

hey yeah this is a good question. this gets somewhat detailed and has a lot involving sex and masturbation for ftms so putting the rest under the cut.

so packing as an actuon is generally divided into two catagories, soft and hard packing.

usually when people talk about packing they mean soft packing. If packing in general is the action of inserting an object into your pants to create the illusion of a penis- soft packing would be creating the illustion of a soft or flaccid penis. this is for everyday use. this type is usually unoticable and can aid with passing or just be affirming for a person. This can be a sexual act but it’s most often a nonsexual act. When you look for packers, they’re usually made for soft packing. So they will be of a soft material and usually smaller. You can’t really penetrate with them because they are 1) much softer than a dildo and b) usually don’t have a lot of usable length. They’re not designed to have penetrative sex with. It’s also why people use socks or another soft object. You are simulating a flaccid penis.

The other type is hard packing. You are simulating an erect penis. So generally, you would use a dildo for this. However. because you are purposely putting an object that resembles an erect penis into your pants, it will look like you have an erect penis in your pants. There aren’t a lot of packers sold for this specific purpose, so you would usually just use a dildo. This is pretty much exclusivly for sexual use. Not always ‘i am going to have sex’ but if you are going to go somewhere purposely looking like you have a very noticable and very large erection, that more often than not will be for some sort of sexual purpose, whether it be exhibitionism/humilation, crusing or signaling to others you want to have sex or whatever else you may want to with it. I’m sure there are exceptions. but that’s the basic idea.

essentially if the object resembles a flaccid penis in softness, shape and size, that’s soft packing. if the object resembles an erect penis in softness, shape and size, thats hard packing.

What your friends were describing could be a few things. the first is often refered to as a 2-in-1 or 3-in-1 (or however many features it has) prosthetic. These are pretty special in a few ways. They are 1) usually on a spectrum from pretty realistic to ‘holy shit that’s not an actual penis attached to your body??’ 2) extremely expensive 3) handmade and often made to order 4) a very niche market and often seen as less of a sex toy or gender affirmation object and more of a.. bottom surgery replacement. they are very cool and very intense. There’s differences between different brands but generally it is one object that performs a variety of different functions based on how you wear it and different inserts. For example, someone may buy a prosthetic that claims to be capable of four whole things! Packing, Peeing, Sex and Masturbation. Packing: You put it in your pants. Depending on things you may use a harness or an adhesive to attach the prosthetic to your skin (which can look pretty seamless and last for days at a time which is pretty awesome) Peeing: You may use a stp (stand-to-pee) harness for this part but a prosthetic with stp capabilities is indeed hollow and acts as a funnel so you can indeed pee standing up. Sex/Masturbation: These often come with stiff inserts you put inside of the hollow stp cavity. These make the penis erect and sometimes have a stimulation area at the back of them so the part that presses agaist your genetalia can be stimulated during motions of thrusting/jerking. Some can even ejaculate! it’s pretty neat. But those are generally the things people talk about when talking about packers you can use as dildos. There are many variations of prosthetics that can and cannot do different things, I only really described one function. There are also bendable dildos and dual density dildos- but listen to me. silicone is great, but it can only do so many things. Things it cannot do is shrink in volume or change firmness. So while you could pack with a bendable dual density dildo, it will look more like you have a bent erection or at best a semi than it will a flaccid penis. If that’s what you’re going for, that’s great. But prothetics tend to go the route of a removable stiff insert for a reason.

I hope this made some sense. tldr. good luck and do whatever you want forever! however. packing with a 9 inch hard dildo is going to look like you have a 9 inch hard penis. do with that what you will.

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raitonsfw · 11 months ago

Note

Hello thank you so much you are the first person to answer my request and I just lovedddddd it .

Another request with gojo where they are married for like 2 months and things are kind of stiff cause it is arranged marriage but then one day he sees that a group are guys ate harassing his wife everyday as she takes the train . He asked her why she did not tell him about it and all and she says cause she thought he might even listen and stuff and things get spicy and it's his wife's first ever relationship.

I know this is big if you don't like it ignore it .

Thank you

𝚠𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚍 | 𝚐𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚞

synopsis: Gojo wasn’t the best husband and you weren’t the best wife, the discomfort of the arranged marriage taking a toll on the both of you. Two months in and he hasn’t even held your hand, let alone made a move on you– something you so desperately craved. It wasn’t until he saw two men shove you against the wall on the train that his natural husband instincts kicked in, the men dangling by their collars over the speeding blurry tracks. All he wanted to do now was protect you, shield you from the cruel world with a blindfold of your own, and maybe dry your tears with the comfort of his dick.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, virgin!reader, wife!reader, husband!gojo, arranged marriage, clan mentions, cursing (a lot of it oops), angst, yearning, emotions (a lot of emotions), crying, hurt/comfort, insecurity (marriage wise), gojo basically ignores reader for the first two months (not for reasons you think though), quiet arguments, first time, cunnilingus, blowjob, cum swallowing, fingering, p in v intercourse, dirty talk, he’s rough in the beginning cuz he’s selfish, creampie, aftercare, slight mention of future children (just a sentence or two), petnames (sweetheart, honey, baby).

trigger warnings: harassment; reader is cornered constantly by two men on a train. some instances of harassment include yanking the readers arm to get their attention, reader getting burned by a cigarette after trying to fight back, & reader being pushed up against the wall with ill intent.

a/n: imagine him in (this) cuz holy shit, i love this outfit on him. i got extremely carried away IM SO SORRY. haha also gojo says something incredibly corny during sexy time and i was going to change it but it made me laugh too hard just imagining him saying it so i kept it. i don’t think ive ever written this much in one sitting in my entire life. wc: 8k. m.list

divider credit: @benkeibear

Two months.

Two months you’ve endured this situation, your body basically as stiff as a board as you shared a bed with one of the most respected clan members in Tokyo. Ever since you said yes to that question, that damned question you thought you never would’ve heard in this standing– ‘Do you take Gojo Satoru to be your lawfully wedded husband?’ Your whole world fell apart. After all, it was an arranged marriage and you did not know this man in the slightest. All you knew was his power, told to you by your clan specifically and what he had accomplished over the span of twenty-something years.

It wasn’t meant to be like this, the distance that scraped the surface of your marriage. Gojo should’ve warmed up to you by now, as well as vice versa, but there was still a wall built between the two of you.

You didn’t really know the aspects of a relationship either as you’ve never been allowed to date due to the conditions of your clan; that you were to marry someone from the Gojo clan when you turned twenty-one. Unfortunately, you didn’t have many options as Satoru had been the last one standing by the grace of his inherited traits.

Because of your ignorance, you couldn’t quite gauge if this type of distance was a normality within marriage. Were you to just stick by him through thick and thin when he hasn’t even so much as kissed you since your last shared moment at the wedding venue?

Was this really marriage? Or were you just a placeholder for the potential of your clan, an offspring bearing Satoru’s inviolable power?

Sneaking out of the bed carefully, you tiptoed downstairs of the shared loft and sat against the sofa with your knees tucked into your chest. You contemplated turning on the television for some white noise but you didn’t want to wake Gojo up, in fear he might yell although he’s never done that. You deduced that he wasn’t a tyrant, the speculation blending in on days where he’d come home tired but he would still have a gentleness laced within his voice as he whispered a quiet ‘hello, how was your day?’ to you.

Gentle yet not an ounce of intimacy had ever shone through, his body nearly melting into a warm bath everytime he moved past you after formalities. He would barely speak to you for the rest of the evening as he went about his routine. You thought maybe his missions just took up his entire mind, it was his success story after all; his life had been blasted throughout Japan due to his aspects. But then you’d noticed his time away from home with his friends, karaoke bars dredging up on his bank statements.

Which brought you to think maybe he was an alcoholic and he couldn’t you know… get it up.

It was fairly common for alcoholics to become inept in sex, so you couldn’t quite put it past him if that were the case. But then again, you’ve never seen him drunk. It was entirely possible that he could’ve sobered up by the time he arrived home. He never smelled of alcohol though, normally it would seep out of someone’s pores whether or not they had showered the pungent smell down the drain. But as he slipped into bed with the covers huddled against him after a night out, he’d smell of the shampoo you two shared with a fragrance of lilac surrounding the bedsheets.

Your phone slipped from your hand with a loud thud and you flinched, cursing at yourself inwardly as you swiped down to pick it up. You prayed you didn’t wake Gojo up, as he had a long mission in the morning. But it was too late as you heard him rustle his way out of the sheets, a disgruntled yawn escaping him as he put on his slippers. The bedroom was open space within the loft, separated by a thin glass railing that someone could easily lean over which is exactly what he did.

Gojo peered down at you, his tired eyes still filled with sleep. You could still see the radiance of them even from below, the piercing brightness that you swear you’ll never get used to. “Y/N? You’re not in bed.”

“I’m sorry Gojo, I didn’t mean to be so lou-” You started clumsily, fiddling with the stupid phone in your hands but he interrupted you quietly.

“Satoru. Call me Satoru.” He reminded you with that same tenderness from before, that gentleness you couldn’t quite get past and your cheeks flushed red. “It's cold down there, isn’t it? Must be freezing.”

Gojo padded down the stairs and you stood up as he draped a thin blanket onto your shoulders, shielding your body from the icy air that the winter had brought into the house. He headed for the restroom, his slippers shuffling against the hardwood floor and you made a note to buy yourself a pair; the fuzzy socks on your feet didn’t do you justice for the wretchedness of the season. You stared at the caved in reflection of yourself from the windowed wall, the trees dancing in the wind with their roots tucked safely underground.

There was a river on this side of the house as well, the water edging up against the stones that had been laid out carefully to create a small pond for koi fish. A bridge elapsed over it and sometimes you sat against it, your feet dangling as you fed the fish while waiting for Gojo to return home. It was a funny feeling to have so much of his wealth staring back at you all of a sudden.

“You still up?” Gojo asked, a bit puzzled as he stood against the light from the restroom. It veiled out into the living room and you were met with his silhouette crowding the doorway. He had his arm up against the doorframe and his eyebrows raised slightly as he stared at you. His shirt was hanging loosely off his body and some of the light illuminated his waist, the curves that travel down to his–

He shut the light off and you couldn’t see him anymore except for the tufts of white hair sticking out like a sore thumb in the darkness. Moving towards the stairs, you ascended them as he managed to catch up to you. You didn’t notice the way he held out his hand, hovering over the small of your back to ensure you didn't stumble back. And even if you did, he’d be sure to catch you without so much as a thought whether he’d fall down the stairs with you. And if you both did manage to fall, a laugh would probably erupt out of him as you both sat there in bewildered pain.

Crawling into your side of the bed, you felt the cold rush of the sheets lying amidst the tangle of your limbs. You laid down with a quiet sigh, the moon thick amongst the clouds and you stared at it for a while. The other side of the bed creaked underneath his weight and you felt his body brush up against yours as he pulled the shared blanket over himself. You wanted nothing more than his arm to wrap around your waist, to pull you close and flush against him and you pouted when he turned his back to you.

Gojo had fallen asleep the second his head hit the pillow and that meant he wouldn’t bother you for the rest of the night. Though, you kinda wished he did want to bother you.

The morning came with the sunrise shielding your eyes as you awoke, the man next to you long gone and off to work. The first thing on your mind was breakfast, a delightful hope that maybe something could be made in the kitchen. But as you headed downstairs, the cabinets looked bare as well as the fridge with no intentions on filling themselves. A shopping trip apparently was needed today and you sighed heavily as you got yourself ready for the day.

The train wasn’t very full, the morning commute having passed a few hours prior but you still had to stand near the edge of the sliding doors. Everything went to your liking at the grocery store, you had picked out a bunch of fruits, vegetables, and of course a few sweets for Gojo because you noticed the macaroons he had brought home one day, half eaten on his kitchen counter. You had watched him from the comfort of the bed, munching on them while scrolling through his phone, single-handedly eating the rest of the box in one sitting with a happy hum. That’s when you realized his sweet tooth, the bulk of it surviving off of straight sugared pastries.

As you headed towards the station, you had a nagging feeling there were eyes on you. A familiar sense surrounded you and you wondered why it felt like that; you pushed it out of your mind though. It was most likely someone checking out your attire, the adorned outfit clinging to your skin. It had enough detail pointing towards your midriff and your thighs encased in thin stockings, maybe someone had just been attentive today and wanted to ogle at you. It wasn’t like you could stop them.

The train back was much more packed at noon and you had been squeezed into a corner, next to two guys that looked to be middle aged with cigarettes between their fingertips. This was an issue in your eyes, as you realized they were the same guys that had been harassing you before whenever you took the train home. You had ignored it the first few times, the music you had blasting in your ears enough for them to turn their heel but the past few days as you stepped out of the house to do your errands, it became much more demeaning.

The first time it was a subtle nudge with their foot against yours, kicking it lightly to get you to pay attention to them. The next time it an arm grab as you hopped off the train, your feet just barely grazing the ground as you hauled yourself out past the doors. And now, you didn’t know what they would try this time as you failed to bring earbuds with you. It seemed as if the world didn’t care what happened to you when you left Gojo’s hell of a palace, the bypasser’s backs turned against your favor. The skirt you wore came past your midthigh and you clenched your hold on the pole a little tighter, shuffling some of your bags against your forearms wearily.

“Heading to the same place, doll?” One of them piped up, a sleazy smile lazed on his lips. You tried to ignore him, but he certainly noticed your lack of music and he got up from his seat in front of you. You tried to move backwards a bit, but there really wasn’t any space to do so.

“Yeah, we can escort you there this time. Seems to me you got a lot of bags.” The other one said as he also stood in front of you and you looked around the train, factoring in the exits and the fastest way to push through people. You also noted that almost everyone else was minding their own business, fucking assholes with their headphones and haughty misplaced morals.

As you decided whether or not to stand your ground, you noticed a tall figure in the back of the train car making their way forward with unhurried ease. Maybe you could ask them for help, whoever they were. Or maybe they were in cahoots with these men who had been harassing you, readying their attack from afar.

“Can you please leave me alone?” You asked firmly, trying to move away again from where they towered above you. You really weren’t liking your odds this time and a wave of fear rushed over you as one of them yanked some of your bags away, discarding them on the seat behind them.

“C’mon, looks like you need help today–” The first guy started, grabbing the groceries from your other arm and you pulled them back toward you harshly. The second guy had sat back into his seat, aiming to finish his cigarette instead of bothering you. The first guy kept a steady hand on you though, a bruised grip on you and it started to hurt; a dull throb had begun to overtake your arm.

“Please stop.” You pleaded, swinging the bag into him hard as he tried to deliberately yank it away again. Some of the items fell out of the bag and another hand on your arm gripped you harshly, pulling you down towards the man sitting.

“Quit being so stubborn. You’re boyfriend’s not here to help you, huh?” The second guy cooed, holding you in place as the first guy went through the groceries on the floor. He huddled some into his jacket, unaware of his surroundings for a second and you used that to your advantage. Hitching your leg up, you kicked him directly in the abdomen and he doubled over in pain, the groceries falling from his pockets.

“You little bitch–!” The second guy sneered at you as he dug his lit cigarette into your skin and you yelped in pain, dropping all of your bags now onto the floor. You tried to wrench your arm away from the searing burn, but you couldn’t. His grip was too strong on you and you vaguely felt your back slam into the wall behind you, pain filling every crevice of your body. It was such a quick interaction, your thighs trembled underneath you as the man pushed up against you to keep you in place. Pure dread raced through you as you squeezed your eyes shut with a scream readying in your throat until you felt the weight off your chest and loud yells were flooding through your ears, the cigarette falling onto the floor.

More like terrified screams, a rush of wind had opened up in the train and your eyes peeked open cautiously. They first fixed on the wide open doors of the moving train, the lights speeding through the instances of train signs and the accompanied men hanging over the edge by their shirt collars. Then you registered the white haired man who was dangling said men with two strong hands, threatening to throw them out onto the electrified tracks beneath them. Begs and pleads came whirling out of both of the men’s mouths and you were sure one of them had started crying, sobs frantically overtaking him like a pussy.

“Satoru!” You cried out and his head whipped towards you, worry flooding his face as he saw you collapse with shaky footing onto the seat. Reluctantly, he pulled the men back into the train and slammed them against the door as he shut it.

“Don’t fucking touch her again.” Gojo threatened, the edge in his voice not faltering and both of the men nodded scarily quick. “In fact, you don’t need to take this train anymore. Looks like another route opened up on your commute, huh?”

Gojo put his hands in his pockets and gave the men a hard kick to the stomach before moving over towards you. One of the other things you noticed was that he wasn’t in his uniform, his figure filled in a solid black sleeved tee and khakis instead. He crouched in front of you and immediately took off his usual sunglasses, studying your face to make sure you were okay. The whirling blue stared at you with growing panic as you shied away from him, terrified that they were going to see through your every sense. “Let me see.”

Gojo’s hands immediately cupped your face as you froze, checking for any abrasions and then moved downwards to your arms and he stroked over the cigarette mark gently with his fingers. You winced at the pain that blossomed at the peak of the burn and he instantly pulled his hand away, his mind running a million miles a minute as he frowned at the singed area. Suddenly Gojo pulled a smile, a toothy grin that made you utterly confused.

“I have a first aid kit stashed somewhere in our house, so you’ll be fine!” He said reassuringly, a lighthearted tone edging his demeanor. What was with him? Normally he was quiet around you and his bearings kept punctuation in calmness. You’ve never seen this side of him and you faintly wondered if this was how he acted in public. Maybe when he was home, it was a different atmosphere and he was allowed to let his guard down.

Home, our house? His words cut through you like a knife. While he tended to the groceries on the floor and placed them into the bags again, you couldn’t help but tense up even more. It didn’t feel like your home, your shared life–

Gojo’s voice fell a few octaves, the cheery upkeep of his personality disappearing as he became serious. “Was this the first time they harassed you?”

“N-No.” You managed to say, sitting up fully on the train. Your head pounded and you moved to pick up some of the groceries as they rattled against the train’s floor. The sweet you had bought for Gojo sat near his foot and you noticed some of the pastries had been swished as you picked up the package. You let out a quiet noise of discontent, his eyes shot up towards yours with uneasiness and he noticed the sweets in your hand.

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell me they were bothering you?” He murmured, carefully taking the sweets from your hand and placing them in the bag as he glanced at the words on the package. Realizing they were for him as you don’t eat those types of pastries often, his heart warmed in his chest. Gojo tried his best to hide the smile that was trying to flourish on his face, it wasn’t the time to get sappy about sweets you bought him. “I could’ve skipped some of my missions, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. A pet name. You didn’t think it was possible for him to utter such fondness, the affection sounding like it danced on a pile of fluffy clouds above your head. It made you lightheaded, or at least you thought it did; certainly not from the hellish confrontation you just had.

“I didn’t think you’d believe me.”

“Why wouldn’t I? I would’ve gladly joined you on your escapades if you told me.” Gojo teased with a gentle tone and you frowned at him. He was still crouched in front of you, his black long sleeve nearly slipping off the sides of his shoulders as he leaned forward to accommodate some space on the train as more people filed in. The ends of his elbows rested on one of your thighs as you crossed your ankles together in between his feet, recollecting yourself fully.

“You barely pay attention to me now, why would you go out of your way to come with me during my errands?” You avoided his eyes this time, not wanting to feel fooled into explaining anything more than that. But when the silence grew heavy after a few seconds, you glanced over to find out why he hadn’t spoken.

His face had fallen flat and his eyes weren’t shining anymore, much to your relief. But as much as it relieved you it also made you incredibly upset, a knot thickening in your throat as you watched the dulled turquoise glass over.

“That’s not…”

“It’s true! You never pay attention to me. You’re either out with friends at a karaoke bar probably drinking away the day or you’re exorcising some curse late in the night. Gojo, I don’t think you–”

“Satoru. I don’t drink by the way.” He corrected you, silent annoyance filling his voice but it fizzled out as he tried his best to remain calm. In truth, he was falling apart on the inside. He never knew, never realized that he had been so distant from you and that you were hurting because of it. He only wanted to give you space the first few months to let you get used to his routine and to help you find your own. As Gojo thought of that reason, it seemed incredibly selfish of him and his chest tightened up with regret.

Pushing the feeling down, he laughed mildly with a hint of sorrow. “My mission was called off. I was on my way home, no curses to exorcise today.”

“Satoru…” Repeating his name, you said it with so much sadness that his heart almost broke in two. “Even when you come home early, you spend the rest of the evening without me. And your bank statements–”

“From me buying the rounds for everyone, that’s not the issue right now.” He confessed truthfully; he would buy the whole bar for his friends who have seen hell and back with him, but he didn’t dare to drink a drop as it disoriented him too much. “I don’t have anything to do this evening so we can spend it together, sweeth–”

The next words you spoke were barely above a whisper as you gritted your teeth to stop yourself from outright sobbing them. “You haven’t so much as kissed me since the wedding. Why would you want to spend time with me?”

Tears welled up in your eyes and he quickly wiped them away with the tips of his thumbs, the long awaited gesture making sobs wrack your body; of course he was drying the tears that he made you cry. “I don’t think we should’ve gotten married.”

The train had halted, a loud announcement blaring that it was the end of the line. It was your stop, the doors opening up with the wind blowing through the train again and you tried to stand before Gojo softly blocked your way. You couldn’t look at him. “Y/N, you don’t mean that–”

“I just want to go home. I’m miserable, -toru.”

“Of course, let’s go.” Gojo stood up with his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses once more, hauling the grocery bags onto his forearms and offering a hand out to you. “I’ll make dinner tonight.”

That’s not what you meant.

When you got to the house, stagnant air filled the house with tension filling in the empty corners. Gojo had become near silent, putting away the groceries with his lips pressed in a thin line and you thought you made him mad.

In reality, he was on the verge of tears because he didn’t know how to make anything up to you. It was entirely his fault, the distance that forced you two apart. He was too focused on his missions to give a damn about how you felt, your feelings were rendered useless in his eyes. He was so used to arranged marriages in his clan that he never expected you to be so fragile, the frailness of a new life seeming to shock you.

And so he gave you space. He thought it was something you wanted– something you needed after being forced to live with a big shot jujutsu sorcerer from Tokyo. He knew his life was drastically different from yours, you had stability from living peacefully with your clan. You were promised fortune and happiness and future children you could call your own, something you must’ve dreamed of. Gojo had nothing, his missions keeping him afloat as he danced in the midst of the curses who tried to test him; not to mention the wickedness of other clans threatening to clash with him.

All he really wanted was someone close enough to him that he could let his guard down without a second thought; his technique fading away and being replaced by your hands on him, tearing away at the fabric that made him whole. He’s never felt like this before, the constant emotions flaring up his every sense and he nearly wiped out when he first saw you on the sidewalk, carrying the precious groceries to the train station. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, the readying sensation of wanting to be the one who carried your bags and alleviate your stress, he’d likely let you step all over him like a doormat if it meant he could get close to you.

But he just couldn’t.

“I’m going to see my clan leader tomorrow.” You expressed, seating yourself at the island in the kitchen. You had just showered, the muck of the men’s hand from earlier flooding down the drain and you sighed in relief as you felt more like yourself again. Gojo had swapped his sunglasses for his blindfold, his hair sticking straight up in light of the band wedging his bangs off of his forehead. He was still in the same attire though, the dusked sleeves rolled up messily against his arms as he meticulously cut vegetables for dinner. When he registered your words, the knife in his hand faltered.

“Would they even let you come back?” Gojo sulked, mixing the sliced veggies with the accompanying sauce that sat on the stove. “Clans are very unforgiving, you know. I don’t think you’d survive if you went home.”

“I don’t know.” You really didn’t, all they taught you was to be praising of the Gojo clan member you marry; your whole life had been to practically worship him on your hands and knees. Not that you’ve done that– the hands and knees part would’ve been nice though in practice.

“We don’t have to talk about this now.” Gojo turned towards you, leaning over the island with a spoon in his hand. “Here, taste this for me.”

A blend of spices hit your tongue as you savored the sauce from the dip of the spoon, looking up at him as you did so. You could feel the cursed energy flowing from him and it made you waver slightly as you made to say that he was a good cook. As he moved back into front of the stove, you swore you saw a small blush creep up his cheeks.

A bit of silence followed and you decided to help out with dinner, picking out some other ingredients for him to use. As you opened the refrigerator to scour the shelves, Gojo cleared his throat as he peeled the outside of an onion. “What do you expect from a husband?”

Your head peeked over the fridge towards him in utter shock. You thought you weren’t going to talk about pointless intentions, your mind having been set on leaving. “What?”

“Huh, I gotta repeat myself?”

“No, I heard you. Let me think for a second.”

The first thing that popped into your mind was intimacy. A husband should provide a sense of intimacy that no one but him should give you; the very essence of a human relationship. This didn’t have to include sexual relations, but in your case you wanted it to. It would be nice if he held your hand during outings and offered sentimental gestures like flowers and a hushed compliment every now and then. But the feeling you really craved was his hands against your thighs, digging into your flesh as his mouth hovered over every place it could reach with a pointed tongue and his eyes boring up towards yours, a smirk prominent on his lips as you quivered under his touch.

Dejection sat heavy in your heart just then, reminding you that he hasn’t done any of those things.

The fridge wafted over you with a cold atmosphere and you pushed the thought out of your head, shutting the door mindlessly. You watched Gojo add the rest of the ingredients to the pan and he washed the cutting board he used with a hum, presumably giving you time to think over your answer.

But you lost your train of thought and after a minute of just standing there with a blank face, he spoke up in an amused tone. “You gonna answer me, sweetheart?”

“Do you not want to have sex with me?”

“Where did that come from?” A quiet chuckle escaped him as he dried his hands of excess water, leaning against the island with his hip. He tossed the towel down on the counter, crossing his arms with a coy smile. “I should be asking you that question.”

“I thought you didn’t care or something was wrong with me. That you didn’t want me, that I was just some offer that my clan made you-” You started, emotions flowing through your system as tears threatened to spill again. Your voice broke off in the midst of the sentence and you gasped for air as you tried not to cry. You didn’t realize how broken you felt until now as it trudged up towards the surface and you vaguely registered Gojo moving towards you, his smirk disappearing with a quiet coo.

His arms instantly wrapped around you, pulling you into a tight hug and you froze when you heard his heartbeat against your ear. “Y/N, I wanted you from the moment I saw you walking down the aisle.”

“Satoru…” You whispered into his chest and he shushed you, his strong arms hauling you onto the island and you sat eye level with him and he bended slightly down in front of you. You had the genius idea to remove his blindfold with lithe fingers, hooking them and pulling upwards to reveal the vividness hiding underneath. His hair fell against his eyes and he smiled at you warmly as he blinked his eyes a bit, getting used to the extra exposure of light.

Your head was swimming at his confession, the memory of walking down in your white dress crossing your mind fondly. And him in his pristine black suit with a pearly blue tie, sticking out like a sore thumb mind you, his eyes had draped against you as your clan leader gave you away. You never recognized his awe of you as you were shaking like a leaf when you first saw his demeanor; the intense refined energy whirling off of him nearly made you trip down the aisle.

“Please, just let me make it up to you.” Gojo whispered as you folded his blindfold into his pocket, leaning into your space with his arms braced on either side of you on the counter. “Before you leave me, let me give you one good night. Though, that’s a severe understatement if you know what I mean.”

Before you could answer him, his lips had found yours with lenience hanging by a thread. Immediately resting your hands against the back of his neck, you enclosed them and pulled him closer to you with a feeling yearning so deeply inside you. It made your entire body shudder with want, his words running circles in your mind as you let his tongue slip in with growing fervor. Gojo’s hands found your waist, holding you steady as you edged yourself away from him.

“-toru, -toru, wait.” You pulled back and he made a short noise of discontent, instead latching his lips against your neck. “D-Dinner?”

“Oh, right.” He muttered into your skin with a displeased groan. In one fluid motion, he turned off the stove and carried you by the grace of one arm. “That’s not what I want right now.”

As he walked the both of you up the stairs to the loft, you clung onto him like a lifeline and even as he laid you down against the bed, your hands never left a part of his body. You needed to be close to him, needed this one chance for him to change your mind; in truth you didn’t want to leave him. But it made him move like clockwork, huh?

Who knew all you had to do was cry?

Gojo hovered above you and God, you didn’t realize how massive his frame was against yours until he was on top of you. His broad shoulders basically caged you in, keeping you safe underneath him as his tongue found your collarbone and lapped at it slowly. Your hands flew to his hair with a quiet moan, tangling in the fluffy snow of it and he hummed delightfully at your response. His hands played with the seams at the bottom of your shirt and his eyes darted to yours, asking for permission.

Offering a quick ‘yes’, you felt your shirt lift up carefully and his hands instantly roamed underneath, focusing on the way you had no bra on. How wonderful it was that you were comfortable in that sense with him, his fingers tweaking your nipple lightly as he studied you for a reaction. A peaked whimper left your mouth and your eyes slipped shut, your back arching slightly into his touch. Gojo felt the heavy ache of his cock, pressing harshly against the front of his trousers and he honestly didn’t think he could get this hard. But you were just so pliant, every single touch enacts a spark from you and he wished he made his move sooner.

He could’ve been buried in you every waking moment you were with him for the past two months and he wished he could go back in time and beat himself up for being such a fucking idiot.

“-toru…” You moaned out as his mouth latched onto your nipple now after he fully pulled your shirt off, his teeth grazing the bud and he had to press his palm against his cock to calm down as you whimpered out little pleas. Pleas that were music to his ears, your hands pulling his down towards your precious cunt and all he wanted to do was sink in.

But he had to stop himself from just going in blind with you; it was your first time after all. Gojo didn’t want to scare you away because of his sheer desperation, it was his own fault that he made you wait so long. It wasn’t about him, he needed to make sure you saw stars tonight.

“Fuck, want to hear those pretty whimpers for the rest of my life.” He breathed out as his fingers traced your clothed cunt, teasing it with a hard stroke upwards towards your clit. Gojo hooked his fingers underneath the waistband of your shorts and again with a questioning look pleaded for an answer. You rewarded him with a quick nod and he pulled them out with ease, his jaw dropping a bit as he noticed how wet you were already. It practically seeped out of you and he held back a groan as he swiped a finger through it.

“God, didn’t think a pussy could get this wet.” He uttered under his breath, sucking his finger into his mouth to clean it off. “And I’ve seen my fair share.”

“Satoru.” You frowned at him, sitting up on your elbows. “Did you have to add that last part?”

“Sorry, baby. Your pussy’s the prettiest, I promise.” He reassured with a smirk, bending down to face your cunt.

He teased his tongue against your clit experimentally and groaned into you as you reacted exactly how he expected you to, your hands clutching at his hair again. He ran his arms underneath your thighs, rubbing softly at your hips as he pulled you more onto him. Gojo licked a fat stripe up your entire cunt this time, lapping at the arousal that flooded out of you with satisfaction. You moaned out, your head tipping back and your hips rolled against his face subconsciously as he fucked his tongue into you feverishly. His nose pressed against your clit, rubbing it subtly as he pointed his tongue into you and you could already feel your orgasm rushing up your spine.

“-toru, hold on…. Fuck, too fast, wait!” You whined out, trying to push him away so you didn’t cum all over his face but his grip on you became tight and his fingers dug into the tops of your thighs, his forearms cradling the backs of them. His eyes met yours as he noticed you quiver, the blinding blue heavy with lust and nothing could’ve stopped you then. You came all over his face with a tremble, the tightness in your tummy unraveling like a ribbon and Gojo moaned into your cunt as your thighs squeezed against him.

“Should’ve mentioned my tongue’s won an award.” He stupidly quipped afterwards and you burst out laughing once you caught your breath, the mood having lightened much more to your benefit. You could learn to love his idiot, if this is how everyday was supposed to be. You noticed the glisten that shielded his lower face and he grinned at you, his cheeks flushed hot.

“What, for talking shit?” You teased as he wiped his mouth with the inside of his shirt before pulling it off, his abs suddenly on display and you almost choked.

“Hey now, I don’t talk shit. Unless it’s about Utahime.” Gojo retorted with a chuckle, moving to unzip his trousers.

You stopped him and he looked at you confused but when your fingers ran against the outline of his cock, his eyes widened. He was fucking huge though you had nothing to compare it to and honestly you didn’t need to to know that he was gonna stretch you open with one shallow thrust. You unzipped his trousers, his clothed cock much more prominent in front of you now and you palmed him lightly, silently gauging his reaction. A quiet groan escaped him and his eyes fluttered shut as you pulled him out of his boxers. And holy fuck, he’s supposed to fuck you with this?

How was it going to fit? Gojo was so goddamn lengthy and wrapped your hand around him carefully, testing the waters as one of his hands rested against your shoulder. “Y-Y/N…”

“Yeah?” You breathed, running your hand up his shaft towards the tip, the crown of it and he shuddered– he fucking shuddered from your touch and he inhaled sharply, his mouth falling open.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Tonight’s supposed to be about you.” Gojo bit back a moan as you started to pump him through his words, tracing some of his veins with the extent of your eyes.

“I want to, trust me.”

Before you really knew what you were doing, you took him into your mouth and Gojo’s hands flew to the top of your head quickly, a breathy moan emitting from him. “Holy shit, Y/N, holy fucking shit.”

You enveloped his cock in your warmth and he tangled his fingers into your hair shakily, the sensation sending warning signals flying to his brain as he tried his best not to just buck into your mouth. You sucked him down like a champ, and who the fuck taught you to do that, he thought vaguely with breathy moans falling from his mouth. He couldn’t help it, your mouth felt so good around him and it’s been forever since someone’s tended to him like this.

“Oh God, you have such a dirty mouth, huh baby? Who taught you how to– fuck, suck me off like that?” He moaned out, a smirk plastered on his face as he looked down at you and you scowled at him in return. You swallowed around him, listening to his whimpers and you noticed that his thighs had started to shake lightly.

Fuck, you were going to make him come just from this. “Shit, keep going baby…please, sweetheart.”

You felt his cock twitch in your mouth, lying heavily against your tongue and you lapped at it with a hefty moan. You hollowed your cheeks and took him as deep as he could possibly go and you felt his hips start to move languidly, fucking himself deeper into your mouth. You gagged around him, feeling the wet slick of your saliva on his cock drag against your lips and his grip tightened in your hair. Gojo set a relentless pace for you, rutting in with vigor and you felt him tremble above you with a rushed groan following, his hips stilling.

You did not expect such a bitter taste, his cum flooding into your mouth in viscous ropes and you pulled off of him with a gasp. Some of it splattered on your face and you swallowed the load in your mouth a bit shocked. Your cunt suddenly ached with want, his whimpers and how his face contorted in pleasure replaying over and over and- “-toru…”

“Mm, ‘M sorry honey.” Gojo breathed out, his chest rising and falling and he swiped his finger through the splatter of cum across your cheek, reveling at how tainted you looked. Thank God he was the one to corrupt you, if it was anyone else he wouldn’t have been able to handle it he thought. The way you looked below him, your tongue flush on his cock; he’d probably kill everyone if he couldn’t see that again.

And that’s right, you were his wife. His precious wife that he took for granted.

“-toru, please. I need you, your fingers-” Your pleas brought him back to his senses, the numb feeling of the past two months falling away as he helped you lay back on the bed. You looked absolutely wrecked, your lips red and as you pleaded, it came out in rasps.

“Shh, it’s okay. Hold on, I got you.” Gojo had taken to your left side, making sure he had a good view of his fingers slipping inside you. As he pushed two inside, you keened at the feeling and your hips moved against them. He curled them upwards, grazing against your sweet spot lightly and you arched your back, your head falling against the feathery pillows with a wanton moan.

“Want my cock instead? Much better than my fingers, baby.” He cooed, his other hand wrapped around his cock and pumping it to full length again. It wasn’t all that difficult to get hard again when you were splayed out in front of him like this, begging for him to do anything and everything. Before you even nodded, he was pulling off the rest of his clothing and hovering over you once more, pulling his fingers out of you with a dismissed moan coming from you.

As he positioned himself against your entrance, his eyes captured yours for the first time in a while and you felt your cheeks blush hot with embarrassment. You couldn’t believe you were begging for this man, but then again you couldn’t believe you weren’t begging for him before.

“Might hurt a bit, but you’ll be fine.” He warned as he prodded his tip into you slightly and you shuddered, holding onto his shoulder blades for support. He sunk further into you and about halfway in, a dull pain started to ache within you as he stretched you. You whimpered out and Gojo immediately stopped moving, slight concern spreading over his face. “Are you okay?”

“Shit, Satoru, you’re still not all the way in?” You whined and he merely chuckled, bottoming out with a shallow thrust that nearly brought you to tears. Gojo let out a breathy groan, his head lolling into the side of your neck and he kissed at your skin tenderly.

“I am now.” He sucked a bruise into the crevice of your neck as he waited for you to adjust, his cock twitching impatiently inside you. He could feel you squeezing him, clenching around him to get used to the feeling and every single time you did, it sent straight pleasure coursing through his veins. “Fuck, tell me when I can move…”

“You can move…” You managed to get out, your fingers running up his back with a delicate scratch.

“Thank fuck–” Gojo groaned out loudly, pulling all the way out of you and thrusting in with one fluid motion. You cried out at the sudden movement, you didn’t think he’d be so headstrong to fuck into you harshly without so much as a quick warning. “You were driving me insane…so fucking warm and tight for me.”

Gojo worked you open with his cock and you couldn’t help the sounds that came out of you, quiet whimpers and pleas of his name, ‘satoru, slow down a bit for me’, and he did reluctantly but not before giving a few harsh thrusts into your cunt. You wrapped your legs around him, taking him in deeper and he groaned in your ear with a shudder as he gripped onto your thighs.

“Stay just like that.” He whined in a merciful tone, his face now adjacent to yours and he gave you a spirited kiss, licking into your mouth with every damned thrust into your poor cunt. You both moaned into the kiss and he suddenly broke away to hoist your legs over his shoulders instead. “Actually… fuck, this so much better.”

Gojo was able to aim dead against your sweet spot that lingered in the corners of your nerves and you arched as he did so, each perfect thrust relentlessly hitting it and your vision clouded with unbridled pleasure. He looked so godlike above you, sweat glistening against his chest and his white hair had begun to look quite damp with the same moisture, falling beautifully over his eyes; those were on another level and you had to look away so you didn’t cum too quickly.

“All for me? Say it’s all for me.” He had started to beg, ecstasy coursing through both of you now and all you cared about was your releases, the euphoric pressure climbing up your spines with every strike of his hips against yours.

“All for you, -toru...” You babbled out as Gojo started rutting into you harshly, a quick rhythm picking up and your fingers welded into the sheets to keep yourself from hitting your head against the headboard. Your orgasm came crashing through you and you clenched around him as he buried into you with desperation.

“Fuck yeah, all for me.” His mouth dropped open with a low drawn out groan and his eyes squeezed shut as he came in you, his eyebrows furrowing as his orgasm cascaded through him. He shallowly pumped into you, mixing the cum with your arousal and you whimpered at the feeling as you came down from your high. He pulled out with a quiet sigh, gently bringing himself down to kiss you promptly and laying on top of you with his head on your chest.

A couple minutes later, you felt his fingers trace over your burn mark that had scarred over on your arm. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

You looked down at him, his eyes fixated on the mark and you tousled his hair a bit as you smiled at him. Exhaustion had begun to take over your senses and you yawned as you spoke. “It’s okay, I’m just happy that you were on the same train.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Gojo was quiet, his eminence surrounding you in a veil. “Please don’t leave.”

“I wasn’t going to in the first place. You had already changed my mind when you said something about me not surviving in the clan.”

He was quiet for a minute, registering what you just said. Then, you heard a cheeky laugh erupt from him.

“So, my dick wasn’t what changed your mind, huh. Guess we have to start over, don’t we?” He said with a smirk holding in his voice and everything he had just felt, the sorrow and the panic disappeared as he started to kiss down your chest. He pinned your wrists down as he hauled himself back into a good position, face to face with you. Maybe you could get used to the piercing brightness of his eyes, the turquoise loving and cordial and everything in between staring back at you in the way you’ve always wanted.

“Gojo Satoru, you’ve got quite a big ego don't you?”

“Perks of being the one and only.” He pressed a light kiss on your lips, his hands brushing over your body. “Well, maybe not for long.”

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