#I SPENT SO MUCH TIME ON THIS Y’ALL DAMN

[sobselpop]

Define ‘‘irreplaceable’’

[cosmicdahlias]

I Like Hearing You Talk

Logan Howlett x Reader

MINORS DNI

You’ve pined for Logan since the day he came into your life. He makes you so flustered you can barely speak around him. After Wade interrupts your drunken moment together, you’re left feeling incredibly pent up and in desperate need of release.

tags: caught mid-masturbation, oral, face sitting, multiple orgasms, p in v, big dick hurts, rough sex, choking, creampie

y’all i got nothing to say this time, i’m just down bad for logan 😭

Living with Logan Howlett had proved to be… frustrating. For most this would be due to his incredibly abrasive personality, however for you it was for an entirely different reason.

You found him PAINFULLY attractive. He was rough around the edges, blunt, quick tempered, and would maul anyone with his foot long claws if they dared look at him wrong. All of these things should have scared you off, but it only made him more alluring.

Ever since your other roommate, Wade, had introduced him to you, it had been so hard to not feel that primal need deep within your core. You struggled to even form sentences when he talked to you. He didn’t just give you butterflies, he gave you the whole damn garden. So when he invited you to sit on the couch with him and share a few drinks you felt like you were going to spontaneously combust.

An hour had passed and even though the help of a little liquid courage made it significantly easier to talk to him, you were still very much flustered. You had been telling the story of how you and Wade met back in the days when he was still a merc-for-hire.

“But yeah, essentially I hired him to rough up my abuser, make him finally pay for all the shit he did to me.”

“What’d he do to the fucker?”

“Honestly what DIDN’T he do? He beat him so bad that from what I heard he could barely even crawl. Wade gave me one of his teeth, said it was ‘a souvenir of a job well done’.”

“Well was it? A job well done?”

“I mean he never bothered me again.”

“Good, but if he ever does decide to be enough of a dumbass to come near you just let me know and I’ll take care of it. Can’t guarantee he’ll still be breathing after I’m done with him though.”

“That might be going too easy on him.” You joked.

Logan chuckled and took a sip of his drink.

“You know it’s funny, this is the most I’ve ever heard you speak.” He said.

“Is that a good thing?”

“Yeah, I like hearing you talk.”

“Y- you do?” You stammered, your cheeks turning a dusty pink.

Logan tucked a lock of hair behind your ear.

“I really do.”

You felt your heart thump rapidly in your chest. Everything within you was screaming for you to kiss him, but your whole body felt like concrete, immobile. Logan took your cheek in his hand, coming in so close that his lips almost brushed against yours.

“Do I have to make the first move, babygi-“

Wade burst into the room and the two of you jumped back from each other.

“GUYS! YOU’RE NEVER GONNA BELIEVE WHO JUST GOT FRONT ROW TICKETS TO MADONNA! I MIGHT’VE HAD TO SELL A KIDNEY, BUT THIS HANDSOME MOTHERFUCKER REGENERATES SO I BASICALLY GOT THEM FOR FREE!” He shouted, sitting next to you on the couch.

The rest of the night was spent with Wade completely, and unknowingly, third wheeling you two and killing all possible sexual tension.

The next day your mind ruminated heavily on the night before, you had been so close to finally having his lips on yours. You played out in your head how differently things could’ve gone had Wade not interrupted. Images of Logan taking you, claiming you from every position consumed your thoughts. By the time you came home from work the overwhelming need to touch yourself was too much to ignore.

You quickly said “hi” to Logan and stole yourself to your room, undressing and lying back on the bed. You wasted no time letting your fingers move straight to your clit, your other hand caressing one of your breasts.

You closed your eyes and moaned softly, imagining Logan’s strong hands in place of yours. You allowed your mind to echo his voice uttering words of praise, telling you all the things you desperately wanted to hear from him.

“Mmmnn, Logan.” You whimpered as you felt yourself grow close.

At that very same moment your door swung open.

“Hey, you alright? I thought I heard- oh shit.” Logan said.

You jumped nearly a foot out of your skin and your eyes snapped open to the sight of him in the doorway. You quickly pulled the covers over yourself.

“FUCK! WAIT! I WASN’T- I- hold on, could you hear me?”

“Did you forget how thin the walls are?”

“Motherfucker.” You groaned.

Logan closed the door behind him and walked over to stand at your bedside.

“Now, my turn to ask a question with an obvious answer. Who were you thinking about?” He asked.

You felt your heart do a somersault.

“You really want me to say it?”

He cupped your chin, stroking your lips with his thumb.

“Yeah, I do.” He said softly, pulling down the covers to reveal your body.

His eyes looked you up and down with the intensity and hunger of a wild animal.

“You, Logan.” You said softly.

“Yeah? Then is this little pussy all wet because of me?” He asked, slipping a hand between your legs.

You nodded.

“Thought so.”

He dragged the pads of his fingertips along your wetness.

“Now, why don’t you finish giving me that little show I walked in on?” Logan instructed, leaning down to kiss you passionately.

You turned deep scarlet.

“Logan, I-“

“C’mon babygirl, you were so close.” He coaxed, taking your hand and guiding it down. “Are you gonna be good girl and cum for me?”

You drew circles against your clit and with a shudder felt the pleasure return to you. Logan watched you intently.

“Fuck, I can’t hold myself back, not with you looking like this. I need your mouth around my cock.”

Logan unbuckled his belt, unzipping his jeans and pulling out his intimidatingly massive cock. Your jaw dropped at the sheer size of him.

“Holy shit, Logan.”

“You good?”

“Yeah, my jaw might not be.”

Logan turned your head to face his throbbing cock.

“It’s alright, only take what you can handle.”

You went to take him past your lips when he stopped you.

“Wait, one second.”

He reached over you, turning your stuffed animal on the bed to face the wall.

“Logan Howlett, what a gentleman.” You laughed.

“Hey, I’m just protecting their innocence. Now c’mon, keep touching yourself and open that pretty little mouth for me.” He said.

Logan guided himself into your mouth and you took him down to the base of his shaft.

“Fuuuuck babygirl, no one’s ever gone all the way down before.” He groaned, tangling his fingers in your hair.

He bucked his hips against your face as you stroked your clit.

“How the fuck are you not choking on me? You ever sucked cock this big before?”

You shook your head with him still in your mouth, Logan chuckled.

“No? Guess you just got lucky to not have a gag reflex. God, you’re so fuckin’ perfect.”

You whimpered around him at his words, growing close.

“That’s it, keep going for me babygirl, yeah, yeah like that. Make yourself cum with my cock in your mouth.” He said as he throbbed against your tongue.

Your back arched off of the mattress as you felt yourself tip over the edge. Your moans were muffled by Logan’s cock buried deep in your throat.

“Jesus, you moaning like that feels too goddam good.” He grunted, giving one last thrust into your mouth before pulling out.

He watched as your orgasm subsided, the heaving of your chest slowly steadying. He lowered his hand between your thighs, slipping his fingers inside you and curling them against just the right spot to make you writhe underneath him. He pulled out his fingers, taking them in his mouth and giving a growl.

“I can’t fuckin’ resist, I need you to sit on my face. Just tasting you isn’t enough.”

He moved onto the bed and picked you up, lowering you to straddle his face. His hot breath lingered on you for a second before his mouth made contact with your clit. Having cum already, it wouldn’t take long for him to get you there again. You laced your fingers in his dark hair.

“Oh god, Logan.” You whined as you felt your orgasm build.

“Mmm, fuck.” He growled against your clit.

The deep rumble of his voice vibrated through you, making you gasp as you came again for a second time. Your grip on his hair tightened as every single wave of pleasure rippled through you, rolling your hips involuntarily on his face.

You panted breathlessly, the only words coming out of your mouth being “Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmy-“

Logan took your hand in his.

“Hey, hey, easy babygirl. Breathe.”

He picked you up off of his face, lying you down on the bed. He shrugged off his flannel, pulling his white shirt from over his head and slipping his jeans off his legs. He returned his attention to you, lifting up your lower half by your thighs and slipping a pillow under your ass.

“What’s that for?” You asked.

“Makes me able to go even deeper and hit all the right spots. Trust me, I’ve been around for over two centuries which is more than enough time to figure out what feels good.”

“You know, I’ve always had a thing for older men, but you might be pushing it for me, Logan.”

He cocked an eyebrow and smirked.

“But there isn’t a gray hair on me, is there?”

“Yeah, and it’s honestly a shame you don’t age like the rest of us. You’d be damn good looking with some salt and pepper hair.”

“I think Wade said there’s a variant of me like that.”

“Well shit, I got the inferior model?” You teased.

“Watch it babygirl, or I might just have to fuck you hard enough to shut you up.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Only if you want it to be.” He said with a smirk.

Logan sat on his knees and pulled you by your hips to him, your legs against his chest. He pressed the head of his cock against the entrance of your pussy.

“I’ll start slow so it’ll be easier for you take me. Just tell me to stop if it’s too much. Alright?”

“Okay.” You said softly.

“Attagirl.”

He gingerly slid his way in. Despite his attempts to be gentle you still struggled to accommodate him. You winced and drew a sharp breath.

“Shhh, easy babygirl. You’re doing so well for me, but you need to relax if you want this to feel good.”

It was beyond attractive to see this side of him, so soft and affectionate. You knew only certain people had been privy to this. He buried himself to the hilt, pausing to let you adjust.

“I’m gonna start moving. Think you can handle it?” Logan asked.

“Y- yeah.”

“Good girl.”

Logan began to thrust at a gentle pace.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He groaned.

Even though he was going slow it felt like he was ripping you in half, but it felt good, incredibly good. You wanted more, you needed to see how that raw, aggressive nature played out in the bedroom.

“Harder.” You whined.

Logan’s brow furrowed.

“Babygirl, you’re already struggling to take me as it is.”

“I know, but I want you to tear me apart. Fuck me like an animal, Logan.”

You felt him throb inside you.

“Fuck, why didn’t you let me walk in on you sooner?”

Logan increased his pace dramatically, fucking you with an animalistic intensity. By god did it hurt and you loved every second of it. Noises, a mix of pleasure and pain, escaped from your mouth. He cocked a brow at your yelps and whines.

“You doing alright there?” Logan asked.

“Y- yeah, h- hurts so good.”

“Goddam babygirl, you really do like it rough, huh? You’re gripping me like crazy. Here, I think this’ll help you relax a little.”

His hand moved to stroke your clit, drawing circles against the delicate, sensitive skin. You bucked your hips, taking his cock further inside you.

“Goddam, look at you, fuckin’ yourself back against me. Tell me how much you love this cock splitting you in half.”

He fucked you even faster, purposefully trying to make it harder for you to speak. All you could manage was a whimper.

“C’mon babygirl, you know I like hearing you talk.” He teased, slowing his pace slightly to let you answer.

“Y- you fe-el i- incredible, b- biggest I’ve e- ever h- had.”

“That’s my girl, so good for me.” He said, resuming his brutal rhythm.

You moaned at Logan’s praise and he felt you tighten around him.

“Oh you like that don’t you? You wanna be my good girl?” He smirked, knowing he’d found your weakness.

“P- please.” You murmured.

“Good, because you’re fuckin’ mine now.”

The sound of Logan’s hips meeting yours reverberated throughout the room. He grunted at every thrust, sliding his cock out until only the tip remained inside and then sharply forcing himself back in again, making you take every single inch. His nails on the hand that wasn’t on your clit dug into your calf.

“Choke me.” You begged.

He let out a deep chuckle.

“Damn babygirl, aren’t you just a little masochist? How could I say no when you’ve been such a good girl for me?”

With one hand still on your clit, Logan wrapped his other around your throat, squeezing it tight. You let out a strained moan.

“Yeah, makes things feel even better, doesn’t it?” He purred.

Between the feeling of Logan’s hand gripping your neck, his fingers stroking your clit, and being fucked hard and fast by a cock thicker than a beer bottle, you felt your orgasm begin to build. Logan was right on the edge as well.

“Fuck, I’m so close. You gonna cum too, babygirl?” He asked, releasing your throat.

“Y- yeah, I’m- oh g- god.” You whined.

“Good girl, cum with me.”

His words were all it took. Your breathing becoming shallow and fast as you felt yourself come undone, pulsing around him. Logan groaned, burying himself deep within you, his hot, thick cum coating your insides.

“Jesus fuuuuuckin’ Christ, you feel so perfect.” He panted as he gave his last few thrusts.

You whimpered as Logan slowly pulled out and laid beside you, pulling you to him with your head against his chest. You both lay in silence for a moment, him stroking your back before finally speaking.

“You know, when I offered to have drinks with you last night I thought you’d take the hint. I was really banking on you at least kissing me, before Wade killed the mood and all.”

“I wanted to, I just…” You trailed off.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Just what?”

You fidgeted with the hair on his chest.

“I dunno, I just feel like you’re way out of my league. You’re incredibly handsome and I’m… me.”

He gave a chuckle.

“I’m sorry, but that’s the stupidest goddam thing I’ve ever heard, and that says a lot because we live with Wade. Babygirl, do you not see how fuckin’ gorgeous you are?”

You felt your cheeks turn pink.

“You think so?”

He kissed the top of your head.

“Of course I do, been dreaming of this since I met you. Not gonna lie, wanting you as badly as I did when you were too nervous to even talk to me was kinda torture. There was a few times you almost walked in on me the same way I did with you.”

“O- oh.”

“Yeah, it’s uh… it’s been a while since someone’s made me feel like this. When you live in a world where everyone hates you there isn’t much opportunity for even just casual fucking.”

You looked up at him.

“Sounds lonely.” You said softly.

Logan kissed your forehead.

“Doesn’t matter now that you’re finally talking to me.”

“If you’re referring to what we just did, you’ve got a weird idea of what talking is.”

“Yeah? Then how about we continue our conversation?” He said, turning you over onto your back and kissing his way down your body.

“Very smooth, Logan.”

[sugarcoated-lame]

Sometimes A Bride | Jake Seresin x Reader

18+ only, minors DNI

Jake Seresin x female Bradshaw!reader

part two of Always A Bridesmaid

Synopsis: You’re having some pre-wedding jitters and there’s only one person you know can help calm you down.

or

You and Jake sneak off for a quickie before the two of you say ‘I do.’

WC: 11.5k (another long one oops)

warnings: a smidgen of angst?, anxiety, mentions of alcohol, smut, fingering, unprotected piv, slight overstimulation, i think jake calling reader a good girl deserves a warning, unspecified age gap (reader is in around mid-late 20s, jake is in early-mid 30s), once again jake being too damn charming for his own good, tonssss of disgustingly sweet tooth-rotting fluff, really sweet fluffy moments with big bro bradley, natasha being the best sister-in-law and maid of honor, jake still being an absolute menace, i'm literally the worst at coming up with titles for my fics, moodboard is not any indication of reader’s appearance

a/n: The very long-awaited (I’m sorry 🤍) sequel to Always a Bridesmaid. Thank you so much to everyone who’s stuck around and shown the first part so much love and support, and waited so patiently for this story! I love y’all 

beautiful dividers by @saradika-graphics 🤍

〰・♡・〰 reblogs, comments, and feedback are greatly appreciated! 〰・♡・〰

You love weddings. 

It's a fact you try to remind yourself of as you take a deep breath, taking in your reflection in the vast vanity mirror.

Hair styled to pristine perfection, professionally done makeup better than anything you’d ever be capable of doing yourself, in a gorgeous white dress that fits just right and makes you feel more beautiful than ever.  

You love weddings. You love the fancy clothes, all the chatter and the sweet scent of champagne flowing through the air at the reception, the contagious laughter and dancing.

But, most of all, you love getting to watch two people profess their love for each other and promise themselves to one another for the rest of their lives through beaming smiles and tears of joy. 

It’s been a little over three years since Bradley and Natasha said ‘I do’, and after meeting the love of your life at your big brother’s wedding, how could you not love them? 

Three years since that fateful night that you met Jake and both of your lives were changed forever, and the two of you have been pretty much inseparable ever since. Well, nearly ever since.

Initially, both you and Jake were scared by just how much you liked one another. 

After spending the night together at your brother’s wedding — and the morning after — you had feared that it was just that rose-colored haze of love in the air that comes along with weddings, and you wondered if that magical pixie dust was going to wear off eventually — and take your feelings with it. 

But it never did. 

Even at the beginning, back when Jake had tried to push down his feelings for you and said he couldn’t offer much more than no strings attached fun, ‘because I’m going to be away on deployments and dangerous missions all the time, and because you’re Bradshaw’s little sister.’ 

Because he ‘didn’t have time for anything serious’ – but really, because he was afraid of just how strongly he felt for you – even then, you were so drawn to him and Jake couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed spending time with you.

How he thought about you and that amazing night you’d spent together nearly every second of every day. 

From the moment he’d wake up in his boring, lonely apartment, to the hours spent in briefings or flying dangerous maneuvers in his F18, to the moment he’d go to sleep alone every night in his bed that all of a sudden seemed too big. 

And, what scared Jake the most was that it wasn’t just the sex – though, that was definitely a great part of it – that he yearned for. It was just you. 

You, with your bright eyes and your radiant smile, your melodic laugh and effervescent personality. You had quickly wormed your way into his heart and lit him up from the inside out. 

He no longer found himself wanting the mundane and meaningless hook-ups or one night stands that places like the Hard Deck had to offer, which had become routine for him since his time as a young pilot at Top Gun. 

You brought Jake’s world from dull grayscale to vibrant technicolor and he found that he just always wanted you around. 

He’d never felt that way about anyone before, and it terrified him.

You’d never wanted anyone so bad, and you were fearful that it wasn’t going to last. 

But, try as you might, the two of you just couldn’t seem to stay away from each other for long. 

Once Jake got his head out of his ass and he took you out on a few proper dates – which, naturally, ended in you fucking each other’s brains out a few more times – you both agreed to try to take things slow, because your feelings for each other were real and neither one of you wanted to mess things up. 

However, you quickly learned that there was no such thing as slow when it comes to you and Jake. Before you knew it, things between the two of you had become pretty serious, and you realized – much to your brother Bradley’s dismay, that the two of you share a very real connection. 

Through all of the ups and downs — triumphs and hardships, happy times and tears, the silly fights and even sillier make-ups that these past three years have brought the two of you. 

From going mad missing each other when Jake is away on deployments, up until his recent request for a more permanent position at Top Gun so he can be closer to home – closer to you –  you and Jake have stuck together through it all like super glue.

Three years of unconditional love and support, of growing and becoming better together, loving and living life with your best friend.

You’ve never been quite sure if you believe in the concept of soulmates, but if they do exist, you’re positive that Jake is yours.

And, you love weddings… so why are you currently freaking the fuck out, today of all days? Oh, right… because it’s your wedding day. 

You’re pretty sure that your vision is beginning to blur, your body growing a little dizzy as you watch the constant stream of people flitting all around you through the glass of the large vanity mirror.

Your bridesmaids chatter excitedly as they too work to finish getting ready, sipping from mimosas as they make their way into their dresses while Natasha – the best sister-in-law and best maid of honor you could ever ask for – helps to keep everyone focused and on schedule. 

She paces the room with her phone in hand, probably texting Bradley to make sure things are running smoothly in the groomsmens’ suite as well. 

There are at least three people at any given moment hovering around you like bees, fussing over your hair, doing last minute touch-ups on your makeup, and making sure there’s not a wrinkle in sight on the beautiful wedding gown of your dreams that you’re oh-so nervous for Jake to finally see. 

Not nervous because you’re worried he won’t like it – he’s told you plenty of times that he’d be more than happy to marry you if you were wearing a trash bag – but because this is your big day, the beginning of the rest of your lives together and you just want it to be perfect. 

After all the months of painstaking planning – from centerpieces to seating charts, the choosing the color of the napkins to the dinner menu and countless trials of cake flavors. From finding the perfect venue, to the best floral arrangements, and of course the dream wedding dress. 

After being so hyper-focused on this day for months, now that that day is actually here, you just need everything to be perfect.

Not even the two and a half mimosa’s you’ve had this morning have been enough to quell the stress currently coursing through your veins, and the buzz of the busy bridal suite is beginning to make your head spin. 

Between all of the running around you’ve done since waking up — way too early — this morning, the little bit of alcohol and all the commotion going on around you now, your face feels too hot, a tiny sheen of sweat beginning to shine through your makeup.

You can’t help but wonder if Jake is feeling this flustered right now too. Probably not, the man is cool and calm about just about everything; it’s one of the things you love about him.

As the makeup artist powders your nose for the fifth time in ten minutes in an attempt to tamper down the shine, you feel your resolve beginning to crack. You try to take in a deep breath to shake the nerves, but feel as though there’s not enough air in the room to fill your lungs and you find yourself feeling like you need to escape. 

As if she can sense your distress from all the way across the room, Natasha — ever the dutiful maid of honor — materializes behind you with a comforting hand on your shoulder, politely excusing the makeup artist and everyone else that’s currently milling around you, before meeting your gaze through the mirror with a gentle smile. 

Though, you know your sister-in-law too well and you can see the concern in her brown eyes.

“You okay?” When Natasha gives your shoulder a comforting squeeze, you close your eyes and heave out a deep sigh, grateful for a moment of calm. 

It’s in the same moment that you open your eyes and give her a nod and an unconvincing smile that there’s a knock on the bridal suite door just behind you, and you turn your head to find Bradley opening it a crack and peeking his head in. 

“Everyone decent?” Your older brother asks, meeting your eyes with a soft look and you swear you could cry.

Through all her running around to help make sure that your day is perfect, you’d seen Natasha on her phone and you figure that, always knowing just what you need, she must have texted Bradley – and that’s exactly what she did. 

Natasha had let her husband know that his sister was feeling some pre-wedding jitters and could use some reassurance that she knew you could only get from your big brother, and he immediately made his way from the groomsmens’ suite to come to your aid.

“Yeah, come on in!” Natasha calls out with one last squeeze to your shoulder before meeting Bradley at the door and greeting him with a quick kiss on his cheek.

She gently pushes him towards where you stand in front of the large mirror smoothing your hands over an invisible wrinkle on the flowy white skirt of your dress, before ushering the rest of your bridesmaids and everyone else to the other side of the large suite to put their finishing touches on their looks and give the two of you some privacy. 

You turn around to face Bradley, standing there in a classic black suit with a bow tie, and you could swear your brother gets a little misty-eyed as he takes in the sight of you in your lavish white dress, a soft smile pulling at the corner of his mustached lips when he asks, “You okay, sis?”

You think about lying for a second and telling him that you’re just fine, but this is Bradley -– your big brother and self-appointed protector for all your life, even when you don’t always want or need him to be, and you know that he’d be able to see right through you.

Blowing out a small sigh, you carefully take a seat on the plush couch that sits in the nearest corner, making sure to arrange all the layers of fabric that surround your lower half in a way that they won’t become too wrinkled.

“Honestly… I’m kind of freaking out.” You tell your brother as he joins you on the sofa. Your voice is barely above a whisper, just loud enough that he’s able to hear due to his close proximity.

You’re looking down at where you nervously wring your hands in your lap when Bradley speaks. 

“Why? You’ve got nothing to worry about.” His words are matter-of-fact, but his voice is soft in that comforting, brotherly tone that’s only reserved for you.

“I- I don’t know.” You tell him with a light shake of your head. “I guess I’m just nervous?” 

The words come out as a question and your gaze lifts to meet Bradley’s before you continue on.

“You know, it’s such a big, important day that I’ve spent so long dreaming of and planning for and– that I’m going to remember for the rest of my life and I just…” your voice trails off as you realize you’re rambling, stopping to take a breath before you continue. 

 “I just love Jake so much and I… I just want everything to be perfect.”

Bradley takes in your frazzled expression, nodding in understanding. “You’re right, it is a big deal, and it’s totally normal to have some nerves.” 

The pensive look on his face shifts to one of what looks like amusement as he glances across the room to where his wife is chatting away with the rest of your bridesmaids, before leaning closer to whisper conspiratorially. 

“I was scared shitless when I married Nat.” 

Your eyes widen at Bradley’s confession, a small puff of laughter escaping your lips as you question him, “What? Really?”

“Yeah,” Your brother’s smile grows at the sight of your own, a quiet chuckle leaving him. “But, then I remembered that I was marrying my best friend and all of those nerves just sort of melted away.”

“Which is why you should believe me when I tell you–” Bradley reaches over to take your hands in his, his brown gaze warm as he speaks earnestly.

“It’s going to be perfect no matter what happens, because you and Jake will be together.”

Your lips can’t help but quirk up a bit at your older brother’s reassurance. “You really think so?”

“Yeah,” Bradley gives your hands a gentle squeeze. “In fact, I know so.”

“Because, I have never seen you happier than you have been these past few years since you’ve been with Jake.” That small smile never leaves his lips as he continues talking and your heart nearly melts in your chest at the sincerity of your big brother’s words. 

“It’s clear that the two of you love each other very much.”

You have to admit it’s a bit of a shock to hear those words from Bradley of all people – sure, things have gotten a lot better between your brother and your fiance over the years, but you’d still consider them frenemies at the best of times. 

You realize that you haven’t said anything in response, being too stunned to speak, when Bradley continues on with a knowing smirk on his face as he takes in your dumbfounded expression.

“Trust me, I wasn’t the biggest fan of the idea of you dating Jake in the beginning, but I see how much he cares about you. Above anything else.” 

You nod your head in agreement, but not without a laugh and a playful roll of your eyes. With your brother’s reassurance that everything would be okay so long as you and Jake are together, and the reminder of just how much your husband-to-be loves you, now you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face if you tried. “Yeah, he does.” 

Bradley takes in the lovesick smile on your face and tilts his head, raising a brow in question. “We feeling better now?”

“Yeah,” Feeling much more calm now, it’s your turn to squeeze Bradley’s hands, nodding happily at him before releasing them. “A lot better. Thank you.”

“Good.” Bradley stands, offering his hands to pull you up off the sofa as well, before pulling you into a hug. 

With a quiet instruction to ‘call me if you need me’, your brother releases you from his arms, venturing over to Natasha to place a small peck to his wife’s lips before making his way out the door and back to the groomsmens’ suite.

You really do feel a whole lot better, but all this talk about your fiancé and his love for you, and how truly, utterly happy he makes you, has you missing him. Yearning to be with him in this very moment, and you realize that the only thing that would really put your mind at ease is right now Jake himself. 

Jake’s head perks up as the door to the groomsmen’s suite opens for the second time in about fifteen minutes to reveal Bradley, adorning a tux matching that of all the other groomsmen. 

It’s still crazy for him to think about the fact that your brother, who was so adamant about you not seeing Jake all those years ago, would be one of the groomsmen at his and your wedding. 

“Where’d you disappear to, Rooster?” A relaxed smirk lifts up the corner of Jake’s lips as he fixes his tie in the mirror.  

“Just went to check on the bride-to-be.” Jake’s smile softens just a bit at the mention of you.

“You know, I never thought the two of you would last this long, so I had to check and see if my sister was ready to back out yet.” 

Bradley drops down onto the sofa next to Bob and Coyote, who are quietly snickering at his teasing of the groom. 

“Oh, ha-ha.” Jake’s smirk grows devilish at the joke, turning his sights on the mustached man ready to tease him right back. “Face it, Bradshaw. We’re gonna be brothers real soon.” 

Bradley only rolls his eyes goodnaturedly at his soon to be brother-in-law, a fact that Jake has made a point to remind him of, all the time, since the two of you got engaged a little over a year ago. 

“How is she, though?” Jake asks, and Bradley can hear the sincerity creeping into the blonde’s tone. 

“She’s good. Was just dealing with the usual pre-wedding nerves, but it’s all good now.” Bradley tells him honestly. 

Jake only nods in response, already retreating into his head, into his worry for you, causing your brother to speak up again.

“Jake, I promise, everything’s good.” Bradley reassures him with a small smile.

“Yeah… good.” Jake nods once more, making an attempt to paint the best smile he possibly can on his lips.

He’s not worried because he thinks that you might not want this, or him – he knows without a shadow of doubt just how vast your love for him is – but, because he knows how you get when you put your heart into something and that you’ll drive yourself crazy trying to get everything perfect.

Jake’s seen firsthand just how painstakingly you’ve worked to plan this wedding, all the months spent making sure that every little detail is just right. 

He knows that all of that time and stress, culminating to this one day, is likely weighing on your mind now that the day has finally come. 

And in this moment, Jake wants nothing more than to just be able to see you – to hold you and comfort you and let you know that everything is going to be just fine.

He knows the old superstition that the groom isn’t supposed to see the bride before the ceremony, but…

“Fuck it.”

The two words escape under Jake’s breath just before he’s shrugging on the jacket to his tux and quickly making his way to the door. 

“Where are you going, man?” Javy questions his best friend, drawing the attention of the rest of the Daggers — sans Phoenix who’s with you getting ready in the bridal suite — toward where Jake stands in the now open doorway, one hand on the knob and one foot already out in the hall. 

“Just gotta check something with the wedding planner. Be right back.” 

It’s not a total lie. Sure, you had forgone hiring a wedding planner and chose to do everything yourself — with the help of Natasha and Penny of course -— but that technically made you the wedding planner. The guys don’t have to know that.

Jake traverses the winding halls of the venue, the anticipation of seeing you building up as he walks briskly in his dress shoes until he finds a door with a paper sign that reads, ‘Bridal Suite’ in loopy, cursive lettering.

Taking a breath, he knocks on the door, and he’s lucky to find that a moment later, it’s you who answers.

“What-” Your eyes widen in surprise and you’re hardly able to get a word out as one of Jake’s hands grasps yours, swiftly pulling you out of the door and into the hallway with him. 

You don’t get a chance to finish your question, because within seconds your fiancé is practically sprinting down the long hallway, pulling you along with him with his large hand wrapped around your smaller one. 

You can't help but giggle at Jake’s antics as the two of you run through the halls, watching his free hand reach for a few knobs along the way only to find them locked, finally stopping when he finds a door that seems to be open. 

He quickly peers into the room just to make sure that it’s empty before gently pulling you into the dark space, lit only by the natural light that shines in through the windows, and closing the door. 

You're still laughing breathlessly when you find your words again, Jake’s own breathy chuckle mixing with yours in the quiet of the room.

“Wha— Jake? What are you doing, you’re not supposed to see me in my dress before the ceremony!”

“Screw that, my girl needed me.” His warm hand is still in yours, his free hand moving to clasp your other one. That emerald gaze that you’ve come to know so well bores into you as he smiles down at you lovingly.

Your eyes lift to meet Jake’s and it’s like any and all nerves just melt away.

You always feel safe when Jake is near and just the sight of him now, being in his presence, has a toothy grin making its way onto your face.

Another giggle escapes you, trailing off into a content sigh as you look up at the gorgeous man in front of you.

The two of you just gaze into each other’s eyes for a long moment, and with a light shake of your head, your grin becomes coy. 

“Hi.” You find yourself whispering into the quiet of the room.

Jake lets out a chuckle, the outer corners of his eyes crinkling up in the way that you love when smiles at you. “Hi.”

Without letting go of your hands, Jake takes a step back to really take you in for the first time since breaking you out of the bridal suite just a few minutes ago. 

Finally getting a good look at you in your wedding dress that beautifully accentuates the shape of your body, your makeup done to perfection — though Jake doesn’t think you ever need it — and hair styled prettily but still flowing and free just the way he likes, renders your soon-to-be husband practically speechless. 

All he can say is, “Wow…”

You can hear the pure awe in that one word and can’t help but smile bashfully, heat rising in your cheeks. Jake’s compliments still manage to make you flustered, even after all this time. 

“Wow, yourself.” Your gaze sweeps up and down the length of his body, taking in the crisp black tuxedo and matching bow tie, and the white dress shirt underneath. Appreciating the way it fits him just right, how you’re still able to tell just how toned his body is even under the layers of clothing.

Jake’s hands tenderly squeeze your own, pulling you a little bit closer once again as his eyes search out your own. “You doing okay, honey?”

And though you were definitely feeling anxious before, you couldn’t be more content than you are now when it’s just the two of you, standing here holding hands with the love of your life.

“Yes,” You nod gently. “I’m just a little nervous.”

You look down at your joined hands before quietly continuing. “I just want this day to be perfect.”

“Hey,” Jake lightly swings your joined hands to get you to look up at him again, and when you do, you see that he’s still wearing that confident smile. “It’s going to be perfect because it’s all coming from you. And everything you do is perfect in my eyes.”

You have to bite back your giggle at his sentiment, in disbelief that this sweet man is soon going to be your husband.

“It’s going to be perfect because it’s us. Together.” You correct him with a playful grin. 

“Yeah, you’re right.” Jake’s hands leave yours, wrapping warmly around your shoulders to pull you in for a hug. Nestled in his embrace, your own arms wrap around his middle, your head moving to lean on his chest, taking in the familiar scent of his cologne as he leans his head on top of yours. “Together.”

The two of you stand like that for a few moments, wrapped snugly in each other’s warmth, Jake beginning to sway you just lightly as you breathe each other in.

It’s with your cheek pressed against his pec that you finally take a look around the room the two of you are standing in, realizing that it’s another suite similar to the one you had been getting ready in earlier.

“You know,” You lift your head from Jake’s chest to look up at him as you speak, a playful tone filling your words. “This feels oddly familiar to the night we met.”

“Sneaking off to a dark, empty room,” You continue with a growing smirk, arms unlatching from around Jake’s waist and pulling back just a touch, his own arms falling from around your shoulders. “Just the two of us.”

Your hands slide gently up Jake’s torso over the fabric of his suit jacket, up past his broad shoulders to rest at the back of his neck. 

Jake’s gaze leaves you for just a moment to glance at the space around you. An airy laugh leaving his lips as his hands reach for your hips over the soft fabric of your dress to pull you a little bit closer, his green eyes falling back onto you. 

Faces just inches away from one another, the two of you share matching silly grins as you think back to the night of your brother’s wedding. A look of pure love and adoration passing between your eyes and his as you both absorb the fact that you’re here, three years later, at your own wedding. 

“Yeah, we’re just missing the champagne.” 

Jake softly brushes his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering shut as he leans in to connect his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. 

Tasting the remnants of the sweet mimosa on your lips, he hums against them before pulling back just slightly. “But it seems like you’ve already got that covered, Sweets.” 

The familiar nickname paints his favorite smile on your lips that has Jake diving back in for another kiss, this one deeper as his tongue dips into your mouth to taste the lingering sweetness of champagne and orange juice on your tongue.

His large hands pull you in closer by the waist as your fingers find the short blonde hairs at the nape of his neck, a groan falling from Jake’s mouth and into yours as your fingernails gently scrape along his scalp.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly your body still responds to his touch after all this time; your knees going weak, and you’re practically melting into him as you feel wetness begin to pool in the skimpy, lacy white panties of your bridal lingerie that you’ve been dying to show Jake since you picked it all out a few months earlier.

The kiss quickly becomes more heated, lips slotting feverishly together as though one can only find much-needed oxygen within the other’s mouth, tongues swirling in a well-known dance and relishing in the familiar taste of one another. 

Jake’s hands are all over you, pulling your body flush against his as he sucks your bottom lip between the both of his. Your skin feels hot from his touch even through the fabric of your dress, and the realization of his quickly hardening length pressing against your hip has you mewling against him.

Jake pulls back from the kiss, his gaze still hungry, but you also catch the mirth in his eyes as he chuckles at his bride-to-be.

“Always so needy for me.” He slowly shakes his head with that classic, cocky Jake Seresin smirk that still makes you weak in the knees. 

“Me?!” You scoff, eyes wide as you look up at him incredulously, though you’re fighting back a smile because you know he’s right. 

“Well, I’d say someone is also pretty needy.” 

Your hand leaves the back of his neck to travel between your bodies to prove your point, reaching down to palm at his hard length through the fabric of his dress pants. Your brows raise in a playfully vindicated look that screams ‘I told you so’, as Jake lets out a groan at your touch. 

“Yeah, o-okay.” Jake’s chuckle is breathless this time as you cup your hand around him a little more firmly, grinning up at him and batting your lashes. “Always needy for you too, Sweets.” 

His hand wraps around your own to remove it from his bulge, already missing the friction as he brings your knuckles up to his lips in a sweet kiss before letting it go.

Before you even know what’s happening, both of Jake’s hands are reaching down to grip your thighs through all the layers of lace and tulle, a squeak emitting from your throat as he sweeps you off your feet and carries you over the nearest wall. 

“Jake! What are you-” Your arms circle around his shoulders, legs parting of their own volition to make room for him between them. Bracketing his hips as your back lightly hits the wall, the fabric of your dress all bunched between the two of you exposing your calves as he holds you in his strong grasp.

Large palms wrapped around the underside of your thighs, his weight pressed against your front and the wall at your back keep you upright as you giggle in your soon-to-be husband’s arms. 

Jake is beaming back at you, the adoration in his green eyes clear as they crinkle up due to his grin. 

“I love you, so much.” He lifts a hand up to your face, the backs of his fingers caressing along the soft skin of your cheek and Jake shakes his head as if he can’t believe that this is real, that you’re real. 

He leans in to press a soft, but dizzying kiss to your lips before murmuring against them, “I wanna show you how much.”

A part of you feels like you could cry at the sincerity in his voice, at just how well Jake loves you and how he’s never shy to make it known. 

But mostly, you just feel the white-hot pooling of arousal growing in your belly, your eyes glazing over with a look of both love and lust as you gaze back at him.

“Yeah?” You nod up at him in a daze, biting back a grin as you take in the hunger in those pretty green eyes. 

“Yeah.” He places a feather-light kiss to the corner of your mouth that makes you whimper and you can feel his smile against your skin. “Let me show you.” 

You nod your head again, mind in a haze of want at the feel of his warm breath on your skin, your hands squeezing at Jake’s broad shoulders. 

Feeling the velvety-soft fabric of his black suit jacket beneath your fingers, it’s only then that you’re shaken out of your stupor and you remember where you are – what today is.  

“Wait-wait, Jake, we can’t!” Your fingers continue to absentmindedly play with the fabric covering his shoulder. We’re supposed to be getting married like… now.” 

You can’t help but giggle at the predicament you’ve found yourselves in, though it’s very unsurprising for you and Jake. 

Jake’s laugh mingles with your own as you begin to lightly shake your head, and you feel his strong shoulders shrug beneath your grasp as you watch his lips quirk up into a mischievous grin. 

“All our guests–” Jake interrupts your words with another quick peck on your lips, laughing at your stunned expression. 

“The guests…can wait.” He states matter-of-factly. “Can’t exactly have a wedding without the bride and groom, now can they, Sweets?” 

Jake’s smile is smug and you can’t fight the one materializing on your own lips as you continue to shake your head. 

“Besides, would we really be us if we didn’t sneak off to have sex at a wedding?” He finishes off the question with a kiss to your jaw before trailing his lips down the column of your throat, lightly nipping at the skin of your neck – careful not to leave a mark – before soothing it with his tongue.

Jake was right. It had happened the night you first met at Bradley and Natasha’s wedding, and had become a tradition of sorts for the two of you at every wedding you’d been to in the three years since – and there have been quite a few.

You can feel your resolve quickly beginning to crumble as Jake presses his hips more firmly against yours, his hard length pressing up against where you need him most, the friction not nearly enough through all the layers of fancy clothing. You’re already soaking through your panties for him and you know you’re a goner.

You drop your head onto Jake’s shoulder with a sigh, before looking back up at him through your lashes. 

“Fine, but we have to be quick.” Narrowing your eyes at him, you give in, but with the most stern tone you can muster and it only makes Jake laugh. 

“Ain’t nothing slow about me, sweetheart.” You can’t stop the snort that escapes you, or the playful roll of your eyes at his words, leaning up to kiss that stupid grin off of Jake’s face. 

“Please, just– just shut up and fuck me already, Seresin.” you manage to get out through your giggles.

“With pleasure.” Jake’s lips claim yours in a hungry kiss and you feel one of his big hands venture underneath the skirt of your dress, traveling up your thigh and past the frilly fabric of your white garter in search of your core.

When his fingers brush against the damp lace of your panties, you choke out a gasp against his lips and Jake pulls back to take in your expression — your brows furrowed in pleasure and eyes heavily hooded with need. His kiss-swollen lips lift up into a smug smirk as he feels how wet you are for him. 

Jake’s deft fingers press more firmly against that wet spot, rubbing along your seam through the damp fabric. You can’t hold back your whine, already writhing against him as his thumb finds your clit, expertly circling it through the lace. 

“So wet and I’ve barely even touched you.” He breathes out a laugh and there’s a hint of smugness to his words — because of course there, it’s Jake — but you can also hear the awe present in his voice, see it in his emerald gaze that burns into you lovingly and it makes heat creep up your cheeks.

His hand dips beneath the waistband of your panties and you and Jake groan in unison as his fingers make a few quick circles around your wet, swollen clit. 

Your head falls back against the wall behind you and Jake takes the opportunity to kiss at your neck again as his hand dips down further to collect more of your wetness. 

“Already all ready for me, Sweets?” Jake’s words are whispered next to your ear as his fingers graze your entrance, your hips bucking toward them of their own volition.

“For you, ahh–” Your words are cut off by a shaky moan as Jake slides two long fingers inside of you, up to the knuckle in one swift motion. Your breath hitches and you’re practically melting against him, your voice already sounding wrecked as you whimper for him, “Always.”

Jake groans at how easily your slick walls envelop his fingers, gushing with new arousal as he fucks them in and out of your tight hole to get you ready for his cock -– not that you really need much prep with the way you’re already soaking his hand.  

“Such a good girl for me.”

Your walls clench tight around his digits, from both the praise and the way he curls them inside of you, that coil in your belly quickly winding up. 

“Fuck- Jake!” He can hear the desperation in your plea of his name, can feel it in the way your hips chase his fingers each time he pulls them almost all the way out. You’re already feeling so close, but you’re needy for more. Need to be full of him. 

Your perfectly manicured nails dig into Jake’s bicep, the heel of your foot pressing into his backside in an attempt to pull him closer as you gaze up at him through your lashes. “Please, baby– need you.”

“I got you, honey.” 

Your chin falls against your chest and you cry out as Jake scissors his fingers inside of you a few more times before they retreat completely, leaving you clenching around nothing and keening at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

The hand that was in your panties begins to trail slowly back down your thigh, and though you can’t see it through all the fabric of your skirt, you can feel the trail of slick it leaves along your skin in its wake. 

As Jake clutches your thigh in his firm grasp to hold you more securely against the wall, his other hand moves to the tent in his tight trousers where his throbbing length has been neglected.

How he’s able to hold you up with one arm while the other hand unfastens his dress pants is beyond you, but it’s moments like this that you’re grateful to have a big, strong naval aviator for a husband-to-be. 

Jake pushes his suit pants and underwear down just far enough to finally release his cock and you can’t help but moan at the sight of it. Long and looking almost painfully hard, the tip red and angry and weeping with precum. 

Jake lets out a groan as he wraps a fist around his length, relishing in the friction as his hand moves along the shaft and works to spread the pearls of his arousal from his tip down to the base. 

His hand then leaves his cock to push up the skirt of your dress as far as it can go. 

Deft fingers pry the seat of your panties from where they stick to your slick-soaked core, and gingerly move the fabric to the side so he can access your dripping cunt before he grabs ahold of himself again.

Jake lines his tip up to your entrance and pushes in slowly, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that pushes the air out of your lungs, stealing your breath and leaving you dizzy with it as his tongue tangles with yours. 

Your hands glide up the soft, expensive fabric on Jake’s arms, fingers digging into the meat of his shoulders as you gasp and writhe against him. Relishing in the feeling of him all over you. 

His lips covering your own, short breaths mixing with yours as you both pant and moan into the frantic kiss. His strong body, solid as the wall behind you as his front presses taut against you to hold you up, his long cock pushing deep inside of you with every single thrust and leaving you feeling so unbelievably full of him.

Jake pulls back from the kiss and looks down to where the two of you are connected. His length glistening with your arousal as it moves in and out of your tight walls, your beautiful, intricate wedding gown all bunched around your hips as he fucks you, and he can’t help the chuckle that escapes him when he thinks about how crazy this is.

“Wha-what’s so funny?” You ask breathlessly through kiss-swollen lips, your eyes that had previously been shut tight in bliss now opening to search out his green ones. 

“Just— this,” Jake’s gaze lifts to meet your eye as he continues to laugh, unsure if his brain is going fuzzy with pleasure, or if that’s just the intoxication of being with you. 

“My beautiful, perfect bride,” his hips slow just a touch, pressing forward in a particularly hard thrust that has you gasping and clutching onto his shoulders tighter, you and Jake moaning in unison before he continues, panting through his words.

“All a mess for me — fuck– right before we’re supposed to say ‘I do’ in front of all our family and friends– and pretty much everyone we know.”

Your eyes widen, lips tugging up into a bashful smile and you can’t help but giggle along with him, burying your head in his shoulder and speaking into the soft fabric of his jacket as he continues to fuck you.

“Oh god… well, I’m sure there’ll be some time to steam the dress again before I have to walk down the aisle.” 

You can feel Jake’s laughter reverberate against your cheek just before he cups your chin, lifting your face back up to be level with his and beaming at you with that megawatt smile. “There's my wife!” 

You’re both still grinning when he pulls you in for another kiss. Teeth gnashing against one another’s, mingled laughter and moans coming out in breathy puffs against each other’s lips as his cock works inside of you, his hips still moving against yours at an even pace.

“This is crazy.” You can barely get the words out, still giggling between messy kisses. 

“Yeah,” Jake punctuates with another press of his lips on yours, teeth nipping at your bottom lip and drawing out a quiet whimper as he pulls it back towards him and releases it before continuing. 

“It is crazy,” – Another kiss – “You make crazy, Sweets.”

With one more firm peck to your lips, you feel both of Jake’s hands wrap tighter under your thighs, rough fingers squeezing your ass as he hikes you up a bit higher against the wall, pressing impossibly closer to keep you firmly in place. 

The change of the angle combined with his thrusts accelerating in speed has you crying out loud as he ruts up into you, Jake’s lips moving to cover yours once again and muffle the sounds of your moans. 

You shudder against him as his tip prods against that spongy spot inside you that makes stars appear behind your closed lids with each and every thrust, and you feel that coil beginning to tighten again, the familiar heat rapidly licking at the base of your spine.

Jake knows you’re close when your nails begin to dig into his shoulders through the jacket of his tux as you gasp for air, your lips parting from his with a string of saliva still connecting them for a moment that makes him growl as your head lulls back to lean against the wall. Eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as you quietly, breathlessly, cry out his name like a mantra.

Your body is sandwiched tightly between Jake’s and the wall as his length fills you, hips pinned to yours and barely able to pull out on each thrust for how tightly your walls are clamping around him, the coarse but neatly trimmed hairs at the base of his cock deliciously grazing your clit and setting your whole body alight.

He's the only thing keeping you upright when your orgasm hits you. His mouth swallows your cries as your whole body goes taut, holding Jake in a vice grip as you fall apart on his cock. 

Jake can feel it as all of the tension leaves your body. He continues in slow, shallow thrusts, the quiet of the room only accentuating the salacious sounds of your release flooding around him as he works you through your high. 

He pulls back from the kiss as your moans begin to subside to get a look at your fucked out, blissful expression. 

Your eyes are still closed, lips parted and now devoid of any of the nude-pink lipstick shade you’d been wearing before, and your skin glistens with a thin sheen of sweat. 

Your chest rapidly rises and falls beneath the fitted white bodice of your wedding gown, accentuating your cleavage with each little pant as you try to catch your breath.

“So fucking pretty, honey,” Jake begins a light trail of kisses from the corner of your mouth to your warm cheek, and up to your hairline where he whispers against the slightly damp skin. “My beautiful bride.”

Your hands scramble for purchase on his back, whimpering as you attempt to pull him in closer. 

“Jake- '' Your legs tighten around his hips, heels pressing against his backside where they’re crossed at the ankles, your desperate mewl mixing with Jake’s deeper grunt as the movement pushes him even deeper inside of you.  

“‘M so lucky to- to get to call you my husband,” Jake swears that his cocks swells just that little bit more at your loving words. “Cum for me. Wanna feel you.”

“Fuck.” The sweet praise whispered from your pretty lips sends him into a tailspin. 

You’ve barely come down from your high when Jake’s hips quicken their pace as he begins to chase his own release, the beginnings of overstimulation making you cry out a string of broken moans, incoherent whimpers of curses and his name. 

The fullness and the delightful drag of his cock through your tight walls making you clench around him harder, and the assault of his tip against your g-spot leaving you feeling boneless, your grip on his shoulders tightens like you’ll float away at any moment.

The way your velvety walls are squeezing him, your release soaking his length and the obscene sound it creates as he continues to fuck into you, have Jake right on the edge of his own high. 

His head falls to your shoulder where he grunts deeply into the crook of your neck. 

“So good, baby. So good for me.” He praises, peppering sweet kisses to your hot skin, a stark contrast to the harsh force of his hips pounding against yours as they begin to lose their rhythm. 

After a few more sloppy thrusts, Jake finishes inside you with a strangled groan. The familiar sensation of his cum filling your still-spasming walls pulls a contented sigh from your lips. 

Jake’s lips dot a trail of soft kisses along the heated skin of your shoulder and neck, then under your jaw before he lifts his face to be level with yours. Pressing his forehead against your own, the two of you stay there just breathing each other in as you catch your breath.

When the groomsmen realize just how much time has passed with still no sign of Jake, and with only minutes until the supposed start of the ceremony, Bradley is seeing red. 

For a moment, jumping to the worst conclusion — that Jake may be standing his little sister up on her wedding day — and he’s just about ready to murder the groom.

It’s only when Natasha knocks on the door to the groomsmens’ suite, looking frazzled as she asks him and the other Daggers if any of them have seen the bride, letting them know that you’ve gone missing as well, that Bradley and his wife both quickly come to the realization that the two of you must be together. 

So, Natasha and Bradley begin the hunt to find the soon-to-be newlyweds, the latter rolling his eyes before grumbling, “They’d better not be off somewhere fucking.”

Natasha only responds with a snicker because she knows that’s probably exactly what the two of you were doing. She offers her grumpy husband a sympathetic look and gives his shoulder a comforting squeeze before they split up to search through the maze that is the halls of your wedding venue. 

In no rush to move just yet, you and Jake just rest for a moment, foreheads pressed together, your body still sandwiched between his broad frame and the wall. His softening cock still inside of you, puffs of air warming each other’s lips as shallow pants become more steady breaths.

You know that you and Jake’s little er —detour— has almost definitely put things behind schedule for your big day, but in this moment you honestly couldn’t care less. 

When it’s just you and the love of your life, bodies intertwined and relishing in each other’s warmth, shared breaths becoming one, you can’t help but think that this day already couldn’t be more perfect.

You feel a flurry of excitement, your heart bursting at the thought that it’s always going to be like this. Solace in the fact that you’re Jake’s and he’s yours, that this is only the beginning of the rest of your lives together. 

He seems to share in the sentiment, pulling back to admire you for a moment before you feel his smile against your skin when he lightly presses his lips to your forehead. 

One of his hands reaches up to cradle your cheek, those green eyes are boring down into your own with that look of pure adoration once again as Jake moves to speak.

“God, I can’t wait to marry you,” His voice is breathy and full of awe–almost a laugh, eyes crinkling up at the corners in that way that you love as his smile begins to take up more of his face. “I’m so happy that you’re gonna be my wife.”

“Jake…” If you thought your heart was bursting before, you think it’s about ready to break free from your chest now, your eyes glistening with emotion as you lovingly look up at him through your lashes.

“You’re gonna make me cry and I don’t want to mess up my makeup any more than I probably already have,”

The two of you share a quiet laugh, smitten as ever as your hand makes its way up to cover his where it still rests on the side of your face. “But, to have you as my husband… I couldn’t be happier.”

Jake leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips before whispering against them. “Love you, Sweets.”

It’s only after you return his kiss and those three little words that have become as easy to you as breathing, that Jake finally pulls out of you and the two of you let out a simultaneous sigh. 

He reaches down to where the mix of his and your release begins to dribble out of your spent hole, a shattered moan falling from your parted lips as your head lulls back against the wall once more. 

Your legs begin to shake from the overstimulation as two of Jake’s long fingers push his cum back into you, expertly thrusting them in and out a few times before pulling them out again, and you find yourself grateful for the sturdy wall behind you when he purposefully brushes them against your oversensitive clit, leaving you breathless as he shifts your panties back into place to keep his cum inside. 

Your mind is cloudy of all things but Jake — his scent and his warmth and the feeling of his hands all over your skin, his pretty green eyes and his voice and his gorgeously cocky smirk — each one of your senses being invaded by him and you couldn’t be more content. 

And, you love knowing that underneath all the layers of fancy lace and tulle, right before the biggest moments of your lives, that you have his cum inside you.

Just as you part from one another, a knock on the door causes you to jump. 

You can hear Natasha out in the hall calling out your names and you and Jake share a look, wearing matching guilty smiles. 

However, it’s not long before his smile shifts into a more of a smirk, and you have to bite back a giggle as he rolls his green eyes playfully before leaning in to peck your cheek, pulling back to mouth the words ‘you good?’. 

With your grin and nod of confirmation, Jake leaves you with one more kiss, fastening the button on his pants and straightening out his dress shirt as he makes his way over to the door.

He pulls it open, still wearing that signature smirk on his face and Natasha glances up at him before she cautiously peeks her head in to see you too, hair smoothed out as much as you could manage on such short notice, the skirt of your wedding dress now back in place and hiding the fact that Jake’s cum is soaking through your underwear and beginning to drip down your thighs. 

“Thank god you’re clothed. I wasn’t looking to get scarred for life today.” Natasha breathes a sigh of relief and steps fully into the room. 

“You’re lucky you didn’t find us five minutes earlier.” Jake chuckles as you lightly smack his chest, that ever-cocky smile on his handsome face that you’ve come to love so very much over these last three years. 

You can’t help but snicker along with him when you catch sight of Natasha’s nose wrinkling in disgust. 

“Ok, ew… And you’re lucky I found you and not Bradley.” Natasha gives Jake a glare before clapping her hands in front of both of your faces. “Now come on, hurry the fuck up. The ceremony — your wedding ceremony — is about to start soon.”

You nod your head frantically, as if only just remembering where, and when, you are.

“Right, yeah! I just gotta go… clean up a bit.” you squeak out to your sister-in-law with a bashful grin before scurrying off the bathroom of the suite you’d snuck into. 

Natasha just gives Jake a deadpan look that conveys her slight disgust before leaving the room, making her way out into the hall to call Bradley and let the him know that she’s located the happy couple. 

After taking care of the mess between your legs and wiping off the smudged remnants of your lipstick in the bathroom mirror, you return to find Jake, who’s leaning up against the wall opposite the door, looking cool and calm and handsome as ever in his tux. 

Making your way over to him, you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, letting out a little snort as your hands reach up to delicately fix his hair where it sticks out in a few places—no doubt from your tugging on it during your recent activities. 

Once Jake’s golden locks are back in a more presentable state, you smooth a hand down the nape of his neck, leaning up to attach your lips firmly to his. 

Jake groans into it as his mouth moves against yours with just as much fervor, his hands reaching blindly for your waist to pull you in closer, and the two of you share one last passionate kiss that you hope conveys both your love for him and your excitement to be marrying him — though Jake already knows. 

“Alright, Natasha’s going to kill me if I don’t get back in the next two minutes.” You pull away from his lush lips, reluctantly and breathlessly, wanting to live in this moment with him forever. 

Your arms unwrap themselves from behind Jake’s neck, but you don’t get very far when he reaches out to take one of your hands in his own, and you can tell he’s just as reluctant to end the moment too when he brings it up to his lips to kiss a trail from your knuckles to the tips of your fingers.

“Yeah, I’m not really looking forward to dealing with your brother either.” 

His words make you laugh in that sweet, boisterous way that he’s so ready to hear for the rest of his life and with that, Jake chuckles and lets you go, his hand still holding onto yours until you’re too far out of reach. 

Jake calls out your name just as you reach the door and you stop short, turning around to face him just as you pull it open. You stand in the threshold, brows raised, and look at him expectantly. 

“See ya out there, my beautiful bride.”

You’re surprised your cheeks don’t perpetually hurt from how much this man makes you smile.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, my dashing groom.” You leave him with a playful wink and that intoxicating smile, in a flash of flowing white fabric as you quickly retreat into the hallway. 

Jake chuckles to himself, moving over to the mirror to make sure he looks presentable, smoothing a hand over his hair and giving himself one last once-over before he makes his way back to his groomsmen. 

Trailing behind Natasha, you quickly make your way through the halls back to the bridal suite, giving her your most innocent smile when she peers back at you over her shoulder with a pointed look.

Your sister-in-law sends you a half-hearted scoff and a playful roll of her brown eyes, but you can see the smirk just beginning to grow at the corner of her lips before she turns and reaches out to open the door. 

“Come on.” Natasha half laughs, half groans, ushering you into the room.

Before you know it, you’ve got a plethora of people surrounding you once again — one giving your dress a very last minute steam to get rid of any wrinkles your activities with Jake a few minutes earlier had caused, others rushing around to touch up your hair and makeup and to finally pin up your veil. Although, this time around, you find that you’re unbothered. Feeling a lot more at ease, and you’re back in tip-top shape in record time. 

You’re practically vibrating in excitement and anticipation as Natasha and the rest of your bridal party shower you with hugs and their own squeals of excitement and encouragement before they make their way outside to the beautifully set up venue to get into their places for the ceremony. 

You give yourself one final once-over in the mirror, unable to curb the smile that grows at how beautiful you feel. 

It's only a few moments later when Bradley pokes his head in the door once more to ask if you’re ready. He takes in the giddy — and much more self-assured than earlier  —  smile on your face when you turn to him and nod your head excitedly. 

“Ya know, you can still back out of this if you wanted.” Your brother jokes, his tone teasing as his mustached lips form into a sly grin.

With a punch to your older brother’s shoulder, you pin Bradley with a pointed look and a sarcastic ‘ha ha’.

“Come on, I’m sure the Bronco would make a great getaway car!” He chuckles as your eyes widen in surprise.

“Bradley!” You move to punch his arm again, but he quickly ducks out of the way this time, and though your eyes are now narrowed at him in a feigned scowl, Bradley can tell that you’re not really angry with him by the way your lips are fighting back pulling up into a smile. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to hold my peace when that part comes up.” He raises his hands up in surrender and you can’t help but laugh along with Bradley’s joke, though not without a playful shake of your head and roll of your eyes. 

“You better!” Your big brother flinches as you lurch at him again, but this time, instead of hitting him, your fingers reach up to pinch his ear and it’s like the two of you are kids again; you giggling maniacally while Bradley — now a big, tough 6’1 fighter pilot — yelps in pain, arms flailing as he tries to get out of your grip.

He’d probably pull your hair like he did when you were kids too, if it wasn’t all styled to perfection with your beautiful sheer veil pinned to the crown of it, all ready for your big day. 

“I will, I will!” Bradley hisses through his teeth, chuckling as you release your hold on him to grab your bouquet that’s a beautiful mix of both yours and Jake’s favorite flowers, and then move to link your arm with his to begin the path down the hall. The path to the rest of your life and you couldn’t be more excited. 

As your brother guides you through the venue’s winding halls towards the doors to where the outdoor ceremony is being held, a gentle grin befalls your lips as you think about how you got here — and your big brother’s part in all of it. 

“You know… I know you told all the guys at your wedding to steer clear of me.” 

Bradley stops in his tracks at your divulgence, pulling you to a quick stop as well and nearly tripping you over your heels and the fabric of your long wedding gown.

“You wha- huh? You know?!” 

Admittedly, Bradley thought he was taking that secret to his grave.

“Yeah, I know.” You can’t help but giggle at your brother’s flustered expression. “Jake told me, a few months after we started dating.”

You’ve known for almost three years and you never said anything. Huh. 

Bradley stands there with his lips parted, but no words are coming out. He’s still in shock at the fact that you’re laughing about this. 

“So… you’re not mad?” He asks the question apprehensively, a grimace on his face as he awaits your answer. 

“No, I’m not mad.” You shake your head, still smiling as an airy laugh escapes you. 

“Well, maybe I was for like a second back then. But, I appreciate how much you want to protect me, Bradley. Even if it does make you an idiot sometimes.” 

You playfully roll your eyes and Bradley finally relaxes, shoulders dropping as he laughs along with you. 

“For what it’s worth, you and Jake actually aren’t a half-bad couple.” You playfully smack his chest in response to the — albeit sweet — jest. 

“Thank you.” You beam up at your brother, content knowing that that’s his way of letting you know he truly is happy for you and Jake. 

Bradley links his arm with yours again and continues leading you towards the doors. “I wish Mom and Dad could see how beautiful you look today. They’d be so proud.” 

“Oh, come on, Bradley! You’re gonna make me cry off my makeup!” You whisper-yell at him half jokingly as you finally reach the doors that will lead you out to the ceremony — to where you’ll very soon be married to the love of your life. 

“Me too.” Giving Bradley’s arm a gentle squeeze, the two of you share a smile, knowing that your parents will be there in spirit. And grateful for the fact that your uncle Mav who’s always been like a third parent to you will be there too. “Now, come on. Let’s go get me married!”

The wedding ceremony goes off without a hitch — albeit a little bit later than planned. 

When the music starts and Bradley walks you down the aisle, you’re surrounded by the smiling faces of friends and family. 

Although, your eyes are only on Jake — looking so unbelievably handsome in his tux and his wide smile and you can’t believe just how lucky you got — and his mossy green eyes are focused on only you. 

Both of your eyes shine with tears and it’s as if only the two of you exist in that moment when you meet him at the altar, the two of you happily joining hands with matching lovesick grins adorning your faces.

Though he’ll never admit it — and Natasha will never let him live it down — Bradley definitely shed a few tears himself as he listened to you and Jake exchange your vows. 

It’s been a long day of running around getting ready for the ceremony — and sneaking off for a quickie, of course — before marrying your soulmate in front of practically everyone you know, then taking countless family photos and enjoying a cocktail hour with your friends and family showering you and Jake in congratulations and well wishes. 

But, it’s all worth it because you’re finally able to call Jake your husband and you couldn’t be happier.

You’re both more than ready for the reception, ready to let loose and enjoy your time together as a newlyweded couple. 

After a nice dinner comes the best man and maid of honor speeches from Javy and Natasha, and a speech from Uncle Mav that includes a few embarrassing anecdotes about your childhood that have you giggling as you hide your face in Jake’s shoulder. 

Then it’s time for the newlyweds to make a toast before sharing your first dance to Fleetwood Mac’s Everywhere, the first song you and Jake danced to on the night when you met three years ago at your brother’s wedding. 

The two of you hold each other close and sway along to the music without a care in the world, Jake dipping you towards the end of the song and claiming your lips in a long kiss that has the entire room cheering — although again, it’s as if you and Jake are the only two who exist in that moment.

When Jake pulls back from the kiss, one of his large palms is still cupping your cheek, fingers gently grazing your skin as his green eyes gaze down at you in adoration. 

“I can’t believe you’re my wife.” He lightly shakes his head in disbelief. “I’m never gonna stop saying that — my wife.”

You’re smiling against one another’s lips as you pull Jake down for another kiss, giggling when you mouth parts from his. 

“I love you so much, my husband.”

You can see that familiar look of both adoration and hunger beginning to overtake Jake’s features in response to your words as your first dance comes to an end.

After sharing what would traditionally be a father-daughter dance with Mav, he returns you into your husband’s loving arms as others begin to join in on the fun, the dance floor now filling up with your guests. 

Jake sees his opportunity to whisk you away from the dancefloor, using the commotion to make a sneaky getaway — again. 

You should be used to it by now — his large hand warmly encompassing yours and pulling you along with him — but you still can’t help the giggles that break free as you quicken your pace to match his as best as you can in your heels, sprinting until the two of you have disappeared from dancefloor, and soon from your wedding reception entirely.   

Out of the ballroom doors and into the empty hallway, the loud music and sounds of your guests having fun now a muffled to barely-there background noise, you find yourself alone with Jake. Your husband.

You pull on Jake’s hand to bring him to a stop in front of you, turning him around and pulling him in closer to you as you lean your back against the closed door, gazing up at him with a lip-bitten smile. 

“What are we doing?” You question through a breathless laugh, although you’re pretty sure you already know the answer. 

Jake’s broad frame crowds you in closer to the door and you find your breaths coming in quicker as he presses the front of his body up against yours.

Your eyes flutter shut as he leans down even closer, his nose gently brushing yours, lips just shy of touching your own. His breath fans against them and it sends a shiver down your spine, a jolt going straight to your core when he speaks.

“Well, we’ve gotta consummate our marriage, Sweets.” Jake whispers against you, his mouth just barely grazing your own. “And I’d like to consummate it as soon as possible.”

The evident hunger in his voice has you frantically nodding against him, eyes still squeezed shut when you feel his front press impossibly closer to you — and the growing bulge there. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, honey. Gonna consummate the shit out of you.” 

Jake’s whispered words, and their mirthy tone, have you bursting into a fit of giggles, your head falling back against the door behind you. His own laugh joins in with yours as you shake your head at his silliness. You love this man so much.

Your hands reach up to the sides of his neck to pull your husband down for a kiss, lips and teeth clashing as neither of you can break the smiles from your faces. 

“You’re such a dork, Seresin.” You whisper sweetly against Jake’s lips.

“Yeah, but you love it… Mrs. Seresin.” His large hands squeeze your hips, both the heat you feel on your skin through the lacy fabric of your dress and the name making you giddy.

“Well… lead the way, Mr. Seresin!” 

You’re unable to contain the massive smile that breaks out on your face as Jake presses one last kiss to your lips, before grabbing your hand and beginning to pull you along with him once more, and you don’t care where takes you as long as your hand gets to be intertwined with his for the rest of your lives. 

•

•

•

Thank you for reading! x

taglist: @sebsxphia @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87 @mavrellover91 @memoriesat30 @that-bitch-bri @classyunknownlover @hisredheadedgoddess28 @foreverrandomwritings @lt-spork @princess76179 @gigisimsonmars @kidd3ath @averyhotchner @sammyrenae68 @tv-fanatic18 @one-sweet-gubler @kmc1989 @onethirstyunicorn @avengersfan25 @fictionalmenloversblog @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @praline357 @girlsclub2004 @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @marvelogic @djs8891 @diorrfairy (pls let me know if you'd like to be removed 🤍)

tagging some others who might be interested: @hangmanssunnies @blue-aconite @sunlightmurdock @rhettabbotts @doreenwnsng @watchtowerindistress @dingochef @floydsglasses @lynnestra44 @ryebecca (i'm going to reblog and also tag all the rest of the people who reblogged part one! 🤍)

[bluemerakis]

────────── ᝰ bluemerakis ༝༚༝༚ ───

❝ this one’s on me ❞

─ ۶ৎ ─

pairing ୨୧ dean winchester x fem!reader

warnings .ᐟ s4!spoilers, cussing, dean’s really just suffering omg, and he’s also like, secretly smitten over reader; small age gap, a slow-burn build up to car sex, grinding, nip sucking, oral f receiving (he’s such a tentative munch pls), unprotected p in v, fluff. lmk if I forgot any :))

synopsis — dean’s physically free of hell, but he finds that his own demons have never really left him. having already made his fair share of bad decisions, he figures that it couldn’t hurt to make one more—the pursuit of you.

word count ~ 10.5k (i’m done apologising y’all know how carried away i get 🤟)

──────────────────────

Rowdy occupants teetered throughout the local bar, their cheers and protests slurred by this evening’s two-for-one special on all drinks. The bar was lively enough on most nights, but always in a manner sophisticated enough for Dean to enjoy a glass or two in comfort. Now, the space had become a raging fest of body against body, and the music was so loud that he could feel the ringing of his ears pressing all the way into the back of his eyes. The abrupt change in atmosphere felt personal, like it’d been specially planned to further tug at Dean’s gradual undoing.

His elbows were propped onto the bar top before him, fingers restlessly tapping at the sweaty, glass keep of his beer. All around him, barmaids wove frisky lines to tend to drunken groups seated along either side of him. Occasionally, one of the girls would attempt to cast their hook into him with an overzealous offer to top up his drink, and a candid nibble of their glossed lips, but he’d nicked their lines at the ready.

Any other night, he would’ve jumped at the opportunity to show those gorgeous barmaids a time to remember, but as of now, he had other company to entertain—the unwanted and persistent voices in his head. Sounded insane, huh? Quite frankly, he was starting to feel the part. It was making him a bit of a downer, and that wasn’t much his style with the ladies.

Dean’s head lolled between his hunched shoulders, where he glimpsed his lonely reflection in the bubbling amber of his drink. He realised he must’ve stood apart from the bar’s bustling and cheerful atmosphere like a sore thumb, sat in broody silence as he indulged his second beer with a hefty frown on his brows.

He could have scoffed at the idea of being alone. If only onlookers had the ability to peer into the depths of his tainted mind, then they’d know that he was anything but alone.

True silence was a luxury Dean had long since been robbed of. It was a concept that held hands with peace, but there was no peace to be found in a soul as wretched as his. He didn’t deserve it—not after everything he’s done.

Those years he’d spent wrapped up in hell had remade his psyche in all the worst ways. And even now, as he walked amongst the living once again, it felt as though a fraction of the underworld had carried through and engraved itself in his very DNA.

He felt tainted by its touch—heard the way it mocked him with the voices of all the strangers he’d tortured to spare himself the same turmoil. It looped in his mind like a sadistic ear worm. Every hour, every minute, every damn second of the day. And to top the icing on the screw you cake? He had no idea how to make them shut the hell up.

It hadn’t always been that way, though. The first time it happened had been a rough week or so after his return. He’d taken on a rather grim job with his brother—a chain of victims that had been tortured to the death by a rogue demon. Dean had let out a wry scoff when Sam had first told him the details. He had a hunch on what that was about.

The demons hadn’t had any say in Dean’s release from hell. If it were up to them, they’d have kept him in a glass display for all eternity. When Cas had pulled him from the fiery depths, the angel had just about pissed off every single demon down there. They knew they couldn’t lay hands on Dean and drag him right back down to his eternal misery, so they’d taken to doing what they did best—causing havoc. And they’d found just the way to make it personal.

Each victim the brothers had found had been tortured in a different way—methods that were all too familiar to Dean. Methods that he’d invented. He’d had years to become creative. Each sighting had mortified him, and he’d had to swallow several times to suppress the bile adamantly reaching up to strangle his airways. What hurt him the most, though, was having to put on a detached facade for Sammy. His brother had no idea what Dean had been through down there. . . what he’d done down there—and why should he? He’d be more than eager to offer up a steaming fest of pity and guilt if he knew the truth, but Dean didn’t deserve any of that. It was all his own doing. His choice.

Cas might’ve liberated him from his physical hell, but he’d never truly been liberated from anything. Most of the suffering had always come from within, anyways.

They’d never found the demon responsible for the murders. It almost made Dean believe that he’d reverted back to his primal nature and killed all of those people himself. He’s hurt people before, so what was stopping him now, right? Maybe he’d done it in his sleep. Maybe, as soon as he’d let his head hit the pillow and dull his battered mind into a much needed deep sleep, all the worst fragments of his subconscious would pull together into some twisted alter ego that came to kill at his unspoken will.

Had Cas freed an innocent that day, or had he just unleashed another, wretched demon into the world? Boy, if it was the latter, Lilith surely had nothin’ on him.

The voices had started ever since that disturbing case, and they were yet to leave him alone.

It’s almost as if that cheap, goddamn knockoff on the real events of his life had been last switch that needed flipping to tune his mind into hell’s channels. Now, he heard them all—the voices—at every frequency and at every volume. And it didn’t matter how hard he cranked up Baby’s radio, their agonising pleas would always pull through in a haunting backtrack. One time, while he and Sam had been on the road, the voices had grown so loud that it made his eardrums feel as though they’d implode. It had hurt like a bitch, pushing him to the brink so that he’d lose control of the wheel and swerve into oncoming traffic. Thankfully, dear ol’ Sammy had been quick enough to grab ahold of the wheel and steer them clear of the looming truck they were en route toward.

The truck’s bellowing hooter had set him straight again as it whipped past the rear, almost as though it were the stern chiding needed to pipe those asshole voices right back down. His brother, bless his soul, had offered to drive them for the rest of the day, quiet concern alight on his features. But Dean had declined almost instantly. Sam hadn’t pushed to know what had overcome his older brother in that very moment; he’d known enough to pin it onto the aftermath of hell.

For the rest of that day, the younger brother had said nothing about it, but he did cast a few, fleeting glances with those damned puppy eyes of his. Dean pretended not to notice. Furthermore, he’d chosen to forget that that instance had ever happened. Fake it til y’make it, right? He didn’t need to look worried—didn’t need to make Sammy worry.

How his brother had grown up unmarred by Dean’s personal shit was beyond him—but he was thankful for it. And he’d continue to withhold that burden from his brother for as long as he could. This hell business? It was his alone to bear. Sammy needed no part in his suffering, and Dean doubted his brother could do much about it, anyway.

Man, the younger Winchester could do no wrong. It almost sickened Dean to know that they shared the same blood. He supposed it created a balance in nature, like how a coin had two sides—one lucky, and the other anything but. It wasn’t hard to know which side was his. Wasn’t much fair, but which aspect of his life had ever been? No matter. For Sammy, he’d keep on flippin’ that damn weighted coin if it meant that he could keep his brother safe.

Dean shifted atop the uncomfortable bar seat and sniffed away his restless thoughts, bringing the thawed beer to his lips. His nose dipped into the glass as he downed an eager gulp, the lukewarm beverage engulfing his tongue with a warmth he would’ve rather claimed from a skimpy barmaid. But alas, he’d made himself the promise to keep any and all contestants from playing this whirlwind of a game that was anything remotely related to his life.

Was this how celibate priests felt? ‘Cause man, it sucked. Not that they’d know the feeling of that, either.

He lowered the partially emptied drink back onto the bar top with a bitter scoff, eyes downturned to where he twirled the glass base within the ring of moisture it had bled onto the wood.

“Something funny, or have you just finally gone insane? Called it, by the way.”

Now that was the last voice Dean had expected to hear tonight. And in a bar, of all places—somewhere your holier than thou self had once sworn to never set food in outside of hunts. Granted, you were probably just being dramatic, but the thought still amused him.

He needn’t turn much to witness your figure. You slunk into perfect view as you took up a seat beside him. “Fancy seein’ you here,” he greeted through a lazy half-smirk, lifting his glass in a one-sided cheer.

You shot his drink a pitiful glance before returning his curious stare with an amused smile. “And I’m sure the bar hates to see you coming,” you retorted lightly, averting your gaze as you lifted your hand to wave over the bartender. “Whiskey, neat, thank you,” you said sweetly once the man had approached.

Dean risked a quick sweep of your figure—adorned with a dress so simple and casual, it shouldn’t have beckoned for his attention the way that it did. But honestly, this was one of very few times he’d seen you in anything other than your hunting or roleplay attire. And to be a little more honest, it was a view he could get used to watching.

Your head swivelled to face him for a brief second, which was enough to pluck his eyes away from what could be considered leering, if he’d made a point to stare any longer. And he was oddly tempted. But you quickly turned to face the bartender once more, initiating friendly chatter while he poured your drink with an extra chirp to his tone. You tended to have that effect on people, making bonds both meaningful and meaningless wherever you trod. Shit, look at the way you’d so easily strolled into both Sammy and his life. He wasn’t one to let strangers linger around, but for you, he’d made some sort of exception.

Dean lowered his head to study his glass once more. It was a view he’d long since grown tired of, but it was for the best. He shouldn’t be looking at you like that, anyway. You were Sammy’s friend first, and with that connection came the unspoken obligation of keeping his destructive hands off of you.

Sam had met you all the way back college. You weren’t the brand of friendship Dean would’ve expected his former anti-hunting brother to delve into—being a hunter and all—but that fact had only been disclosed after an unfortunate day of you being caught in the crossfire of one of their cases. It was a day Dean had thought you done for, for sure, but then you’d gone and surprised the both of them with your hunter’s wit, immobilising the threat like it’d been nothing of a challenge.

Dean would never admit it to your face, but you were a whole lot more knowledgeable than himself and Sam combined—and that’s considering that his brother is a colossal nerd before anything else. Since then, you’d stuck around, always helping Sammy with the nit-picky bookworm bullshit that Dean had never had much desire to do. He’d thank God himself for the lucky find that was you, if the big man in the sky really existed to begin with. Even after having met the angels, who were by no means impressive (save the girth of their dick nature), he couldn’t be convinced that there was a God who’d sent them here.

His attention strayed back to you as you reached across the bar top with a cash tip in clutch, which the bartender drank in with slightly flustered eyes before refusing it politely. Dean found himself huffing softly at the sight of it—not long after he’d come in, he’d seen that same bartender lay a fit on one of the occupants who’d refused him a tip after wrapping up the bill. He could’ve guessed that the demanding air you brought to the place had something to do with it. You didn’t mean to do it—demand things your way—it was just a string of events that always managed to fall into place whenever you showed up.

It was a quiet allure you’d always had to you. Dean could call you a good-luck charm for it. It made him want to hold onto you, just a little tighter, but he’d be selfish to do it. And whatever found it’s way into his grasp always seemed to shatter.

You reached for your glass almost shyly, as though you felt some slither of guilt for not being able to compensate the bartender’s effort, before turning to face Dean more directly. You tilted your head in the slightest manner, free hand brought up to cradle your cheek in poise as you gazed at him. “What did you mean by that, anyway?”

He frowned lightly. “What did I mean by what?”

“Fancy seein’ you here,” you mocked in a tone far too deep. A shameless grin spread your lips before you lifted your glass to take a sip—your eyes holding a glint he couldn’t quite decipher. And he didn’t try to linger on your stare for long enough to find out. There was some pull to it—like a getting caught in the sea’s rip current, and it made him feel something he couldn’t quite place. Or wouldn’t place, for the sake of keeping things unattached.

He glanced off to the side with a simple shrug. “Nah, I mean, you’re always off chasin’ some fairytale with Sammy. Just figured the two o’ya woulda found a fresh tail to nip by now,” he said nonchalantly, glass brought to his lips as he took a tense swig that finally emptied his glass.

“Well, yeah, but it’s after hours now. And I need a break, just like you,” you laughed. “Besides, I think you of all people could take the biggest break from chasing anything for the time being—which I’m glad to see you doing, by the way.”

He offered a simple nod of acknowledgment before lowering his glass and swirling the beer around his tongue, racking his tired brain for the next thing to say. It irked him a bit. Part of his charm was that chatting it up with the ladies always came easy. Who the hell would be be without it? But something about tonight—about you—had him feeling like a gawking numb-nut with a desperate need for a wingman.

He swallowed his sip and cleared his throat somewhat self-consciously, finally mustering up the courage to face you again. You had your fingers wrapped around your glass now, your eyes narrowed in eager focus and the corners of your lips slightly upturned—all while you sat waiting for him in patient silence. A silence that had no reason to make him feel. . . anxious, but it did. Were you doing it on purpose? Did you even know what you were doing?

Get it together, man, you’re blowin’ it, he said silently. You always do. Where do you think this’ll go? Nowhere. It’ll all crash and burn. Burn. Burn, the voices taunted. They’d become far too comfortable in his head, and now they had no shame popping up during his any and every conversation. Whenever the hell they pleased.

Mouthy bastards.

He ignored their jeering and settled for poking at the past, hoping it would invite you to carry the conversation he was so clearly dropping. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I seem to remember you sayin’ somethin’ ‘bout how bars are home to sad men and madly horny men. So, that begs my earlier surprise that the Judgemental Judy herself showed up at the weepin’ whorehouse,” he said with a light chuckle.

You seemed more than happy to perk up at his teasing, a sight that made him ease off the clutch on his glass. “Well, maybe—just maybe, I have the guilty pleasure of making fun of sad sobs like you afterhours. I mean, the job gets so dull sometimes, you’ll forgive a girl for having a stupidly fun hobby.”

Dean narrowed his eyes slightly. “You callin’ me a loser?” He asked through a grin.

Your shoulders lifted in the most dramatised shrug you could’ve possibly mustered. “Dunno, Dean,” you sighed. “Are you?”

He shook his head through a weak grin—not as a response to your question, but at the way you always found it in yourself to tease him with thinly veiled insults. He could’ve gotten mad over it, but it had become something like a tradition between the two of you—the very soul of your friendship. Now, he’d let you compare him to every depicted loser in the literature of insults if it could have you both sharing a hearty laugh by the end of it. If it would buy him a second longer of your presence.

You can’t have her. Not yours. She’ll break if you touch her, the voices pressed on. He never could place any of them—not to a face, not even to a name. But he must’ve known them, must’ve met them face to face when they’d been strung up for a beating by a weapon of his choice. The voices were right, too. Dean could tell himself he was a blacksmith, that he’d have the power to handle you in a way that would only make you malleable without breaking. But at the end of the day, he always managed a slip up. He knew he’d swing a little too hard, or bend you a little too far, perhaps even just hold you with a little too much force.

He’d break you the way he’d broken everything else. The way he’d broken himself.

“Are you okay?” Your slightly concerned voice broke into the chasm of his torment, causing him to raise his brows with a growing awareness.

“Yeah, no, I’m all right,” he attempted to say casually, coaxing forward a smile to reinforce his statement. But you didn’t look convinced—and why would you be? You knew him better than that. If anything, you might’ve been the one person who knew him better than Sammy. Not because he’d necessarily allowed it, but because you were scarily observant. He didn’t like how vulnerable that made him feel, but he couldn’t deny the facts, either. And he’d rather be faced with the hard truths than entertain myths forged for his own comfort.

“Come on,” you sighed all-knowingly before your leg crossed over the other, your whiskey pushed aside as you leaned yourself in a little closer to him. “What’s wrong, Dean?” He held his breath at the sudden closeness, but he wasn’t fast enough to miss the sweet caress of your perfume. It wafted beneath his nose like a taunt, and it fuelled the voices in his head even further.

Run away now, Dean. Save her. You’re doomed. Don’t doom her to the same fate. Don’t be selfish. Those words bit at his chest. Shut the hell up, he seethed silently, but they’d never listened before, and they wouldn’t listen now. You can’t shut out the truth, one sniped back.

He turned his head to the side. “Nothin’s wrong. Been a long day, that’s all. Sammy’s been wearin’ me down with all the hell crap. I just need a damn break.”

“I think that’s what you call brotherly concern,” you said, inching forward in your seat so that you nudged at the corner of his vision. “Is it so bad having somebody check up on you from time to time? Can’t do everything on your own, Dean, even if you like to think so.”

Dean released his glass and pushed it away from him, wringing his fingers out before he began to play with his ring. How could he tell you—tell anybody that this was something he could only do on his own? There wasn’t a single thing you or Sammy could do. It wasn’t the sort of thing that the books you skimmed through for hunts had an answer to. Traumatised man struggles to confront his tainted past. Now that’s a book that might’ve come in handy. But he wasn’t about to take a stroll through the local library’s self-help section, and reading it would only feel slightly validating if it’d been assigned by somebody with the degree to back the premise.

Besides, even if he’d been willing to talk to somebody who could help him, he’d surely be given a one-way ticket to the looney bin after the first session. Which wacko got to spew tales about the voices in their head without waking up between four padded walls the next day?

Dean cleared his throat dismissively. “Hey, uh, how’d you get here, anyway? Sammy drop you off?” He asked, eyes still glued to his fiddling fingers before he lifted his head to try and scout out the bartender. He could use another drink to drown the nerves he felt lingering within, and hopefully also drown out the voices while he was at it. You know, kill two birds with one stone and all that.

“Took a cab,” you answered hastily—a clear indication that you had no intention of entertaining his bullshit small talk. “I notice things, you know?” You added more earnestly, something that told him he wasn’t getting out of this one so easily.

Oh, trust me, I know, he remarked silently. He could’ve said the same about himself, especially when it came to you.

For instance, he noticed the way you’d never been a big drinker—how you’d only order something whenever he did. Obligatory pressure? Maybe, but he also noticed the way you always ordered the same whiskey. It was a whiskey he’d chosen for you the first time you’d gone to a bar together, and it was the same one you currently nurtured so gently between your fingers.

He noticed that you tended to care from a distance that didn’t feel suffocating, like making him that piping hot cup of coffee in the mornings he’d be too tired to pluck himself from the sheets, or all the times he’d gone days without eating and then woke up to a breakfast you’d prepped and plated at his bedside table. Hell, even all the times he’d left the motel in a scramble and forgotten essential equipment or some personal belonging, and you’d been right by his side, calm as a cucumber while you procured the items from your backpack.

Even now, you’d come all the way out here to keep him the company he’d never asked for, but that you must’ve known he needed. It was slightly more transparent than the rest of your previous acts of care, but he didn’t mind it, especially because you never tended to hassle him about his problems the way Sammy did. Up until now, at least. It was the little things like that that defined you in his eyes, things he’d come to admire about you.

Honestly, when it came to you, Dean couldn’t do anything but notice. You gave him the sort of impression that there was nothing you couldn’t try and fix. But she can’t fix you, a voice barked at him. You can’t be fixed.

Oh, piss off, you ass-probing sons o’ bitches, he spat internally. I’m not tryna get fixed. He wasn’t naive.

He shifted slightly in his seat as he grew more desperate for a numbing release, his eyes searching the bar frantically. But the bartender seemed to have disappeared entirely, and he gave a barely audible huff at tonight’s rigged luck. There goes the fuckin’ rescue. If he had to endure whatever mushy heart-to-heart was about to come next, he’d rather have done with some more alcohol to cull the consequences.

Almost as though you’d read his mind, the glass you’d been savouring was pushed in his direction. He glanced at you with slightly widened eyes, then gave a tiny dip of his chin.

“Thanks, but I prefer mine on the rocks,” he said thickly. Nothin’ like an icy gulp to remind me where the hell I am. That’s right, Hell. You’ll be back there in no time.

“Oh, I know, but if we’re gonna have this conversation—and we both know we will, you’re gonna need something stronger.” You nudged your glass another inch in his direction, modelling a clear-cut expression that told him not to argue any further. “Take it. This one’s on me,” you added with a cheeky smile. It was on you, only, it hadn’t cost you a dime.

Dean watched you for a few seconds longer, his tongue poking through to drag along his lower lip in silent debate. She’s not going to stop. She’s going to find out who you are. She’ll leave you. Just like everybody else. You’ll be alone. All alone. Alone. Again.

Neither of you moved to claim the drink—you out of protest, and him out of something far darker. All you did was cross your arms onto the countertop as you shared his silence, watching him through those calculating eyes of yours that made him feel a little too seen. Just what was going on inside of your head?

“All right,” he relented, slowly reaching across to clutch the glass. He brought it toward himself before lifting it to you in good gesture. “Cheers,” he said, then with a pause, his head tilted in silent consideration. “Again,” he added wryly.

You gave a tiny smile of victory, and the sight made his heart skip a beat. He immediately dropped his attention to the drink, where he brought it in for an eager drain. But his hand hesitated midway when he spotted the evidence of where your lips had settled for its first sip—the coloured print of your kiss overlapping the rim he’d planned to taste just seconds before.

“What, a little lipstick scare you?” He glanced up in time to see your eyes lifting from the same print on the glass rim, only to fix him with a slightly daring grin.

“Nah,” he answered almost too eagerly. He could’ve cursed himself for acting like a rattled school boy. He lifted the glass to his lips and took a long, hearty gulp of the whiskey. It seared every inch of his insides for the entire trip down to his stomach, but the burn was something different and oddly welcoming. With a smack of his lips and a sigh of relief, he set the remainder of the drink down and flashed you a content smile.

Suddenly, you were leaning toward him, your hand reaching for his face. The sight made his heart race, and all he could do was lean back an inch in his seat, as though you had a case of cooties he was trying to avoid. “Hey, uh—woah,” he laughed nervously, and then he didn’t make any sound at all. Your thumb was pressed against his lips, but it didn’t hover for long before it did a brisk swipe and your arm retreated back to your side.

“Lipstick smudge,” you told him innocently, but he caught that delighted look on your face, and he knew then that you were perfectly aware of the effect you seemed to have over him.

Dean’s head buckled to conceal the heat in his cheeks—hoping that it hadn’t reached your attention the way everything you did reached his. “Yeah, well, at least buy a guy a drink first,” he chuckled hoarsely.

“Technically, I already did.”

He gave a series of minuscule nods that depicted his defeat. “Touché.” Technically, you hadn’t bought anything—you’d gotten a freebie. But he supposed it was the sentiment that counted.

“Anyways, as I was saying,” you continued your earlier agenda. “I notice things, Dean.”

She’s going to find out exactly who you are.

“Oh, yeah?” He muttered half-heartedly, the heat in his cheeks vanishing only to be replaced by a feeling of dread. His chin perked up when he caught sight of the bartender creeping into the corner of his eye. There you are, ya prick. He lifted his hand to wave the man over, before he finally turned to face you. “Like what?”

He knew exactly what, and so did you. Where to begin was the real question.

Luckily, the bartender appeared just in time to offer a preparatory interlude, which he gratefully seized at the throat. Turning to the man, he leaned onto the counter. “Hey, man, could you fix the gal over here with a. . .” He trailed off with a questioning glance in your direction.

“I’m good, thanks,” you refused politely, but Dean could make out a hint of impatience peering through.

He cocked his head slightly. “Suit y’self,” he murmured, then faced the bartender again to order himself another round to down after he finished the whiskey—drown your sorrows, or whatever it is they say. But your hand reached into his space with far more sense than him, silencing his impulse before his lips could even split to give the order.

“He’s good, too,” you told the drinks master, and the man glanced between the both of you before settling on you with a knowing smile and taking his leave.

Dean turned to you with a slight pout and a ruffled frown. “Man, seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously,” you retorted bluntly, hand retracting back into your own vicinity. “I’m not carrying your drunk ass out of here. And neither is Sam,” you added when Dean attempted to argue his brother onto his case.

“Yeah, fine, whatever,” he mumbled, reaching for the singular, remaining drink he was apparently being limited to for the rest of tonight. But he didn’t take another sip just yet. Instead, he used the glass as more of a coping device, his fingers wrung tightly around its fragile body. And he couldn’t look at you while he waited for you to say whatever it is you had to say; he wasn’t strong enough to confront that particular Pandora’s box head on.

“You haven’t been okay for a while now,” you began. His teeth reached to bite the already-raw skin of his cheek. “And I know that it’s because of. . . you know—” he did, “—the things you’ve been through during your time in Hell. I mean, I can’t imag—”

Dean already knew the ending of that sentence before you finished it, and all the spite he’d garnered within drove him to face you with unintentional hostility. “No, you can’t,” he snapped gruffly, but he came to regret it shortly after seeing the hurt creep into your expression. With a sigh, he turned away from your crippling stare, his head shaking lightly in defeat. “This is why I don’t wanna talk about it. . . you and Sammy, you can’t understand what I’ve been through down there—what I had to do down there.” Go on, tell her. Tell her about the monsters in hell. Tell her about the biggest monster of them all.

“You still need to talk about it, Dean,” you urged gently. He noted how soft your tone was, almost as though you were afraid to push him too hard, whether it be with your choice of words, or with a single, harsh pitch in your voice. “If not to me, then to Sam, at least. I mean, he’s your brother, I’m sure he understands most things that other people wouldn’t.”

“Nah. . .” Dean murmured, his voice trailing off as he picked at his battered brain. He brought the whiskey to his lips and took a sip, savouring the burn in his chest. He hovered the glass in the air. “Sammy. . . he can’t help me with this. He shouldn’t have to, anyway. I’m the big bro, I gotta keep my head on for ‘im, y’know?” He glanced at you finally, and he didn’t realise how shattered he must’ve looked until he saw heartbreak soften your eyes.

His attention flickered down to where your crossed arms faltered, your hand briefly reaching forward as though you’d wanted to offer some slither of physical reassurance, but something else had kept you from engaging. He wished it hadn’t.

“Well,” you murmured, that same hand rubbing tender patterns along your forearm. “You don’t have to keep your head on for me.” Dean glanced up at you in surprise. “You’d be stupid to try, anyway. You’re not fooling me, Dean.” You gave a light laugh of defeat. “You’re not even fooling Sam. But the difference is that you don’t have to share that burden with him if you don’t want to. . . but you can share it with me.”

Could he, really? He couldn’t help but feel as though once he did open up to you, you’d realise the true magnitude of his shit. Only then, you wouldn’t be able to back out. You were too kind for that sort of rejection. But you’d both become miserable, and he didn’t think he could do that to you of all people.

With a slight jerk of his chin, he said, “‘fraid I can’t,” and gulped down the last of his drink to flush away the guilt of the mere sound. He hissed through gritted teeth as he placed the glass down with a bang, something that caused a few loiterers to glance his way, but he ignored them as surely as he’d been doing this entire night. “We should get back to the Motel. Bet Sammy’s startin’ to wonder if he should give me a call and chew me out over missin’ your curfew.”

“Dean—” you started, but he stopped listening.

He reached into his jacket pocket and plucked out his wallet, fingers prying the worn leather to slip out a hefty note. He folded and plopped it onto the countertop, his chin dipping in a brief thanks to the bartender who’d begun to saunter over and claim the bill. “Thanks, man,” he murmured, rising from his seat as he buried his wallet once more.

When he did finally make eye contact with you again, you had this sullen look to your features, but he tried not to show the way it made him feel. Feeling guilty? Like a douche? A prick undeserving of her time? After she came out all this way to speak to you. Tsk, the voices sneered.

Piss right off to hell. You first.

“Come on.” Dean jerked his chin at you, averting his gaze almost immediately when he saw your eyes narrow. He half expected you to start arguing, or to continue sitting there in a determined protest, but much to his relief, you rose up before him in a nerve-wrecking silence.

He glanced back at you, noting the light shake of your head before you let slip a hopeless scoff. Before he had a chance to prompt you further, you pivoted on your heels and whipped off into the busy bodies suffocating the bar. Behind you, your perfume lingered like a tantalising trail of candy, one that he knew he’d have no return from if he followed. But he did, anyway—the same way Hansel did Gretel because something about you had always felt like the home he’d never had. Even if he might burn it all down eventually.

He kept you in his sight all the way until the bar’s entrance, where you both eventually slipped out into the cool, unwelcoming air of the night. Dean drew up beside your hovering figure, his hand brought up to cradle your back and guide you to where he’d parked the Impala. He tried to catch your eye to ask whether you’d like his jacket because he felt your faint trembling beneath his hand, but you seemed to stop noticing he existed. Maybe that was for the best.

When you reached the passenger’s side of the car, Dean released you to reach for the handle. It clicked open, and he widened the door with an usher for you to climb inside. But all you did was stand there, tussles of your hair carried in hypnotising whisks by the night’s nipping breeze. He caught the scent of your shampoo, the same one he often found himself breathing in too deeply whenever he’d man the shower after you. And he could still remember it’s name—some limited edition crap he’d forced himself to memorise so that he could find another bottle like it and gift it to you on your next birthday. You’d been complaining for a good month that your current one was running dry.

He didn’t much like the idea of gift-giving, it wasn’t exactly his forte. But he knew the way you and Sammy both lit up at the mere thought of it. Besides, he’d be rude not to return the favour after having received gifts for his birthday from the both of you. Who are you fooling, boy? The best gift you could give her is to get out of her life. Don’t bother playing pretend with anything else.

You finally turned to face him, which instantly halted any and all thoughts he’d slowly been drowning in. There was some new resolve furnishing your features—brows furrowed, lips slightly parted and nostrils flaring with the weight of your own thoughts. But before Dean could ask the first thing about it, your hands came to wrap around his jaw, your lips pressing against his in a firm kiss.

Your lips were so warm against his, so soft that he could’ve fallen deeper into their padding. And he wanted to, so desperate for their welcome that he had to bring his hands up in a gentle bracket of your neck to keep himself from falling prey to his deepest desires. He pulled his lips from yours almost regretfully, keenly aware of your lingering warmth. There was so much emotion brimming in your eyes as you gazed up at him, but he saw uncertainty glare the loudest. He wished he could’ve said something—done something to displace it, but he had to remember where his priorities lay. In keeping you safe. Away from everything that was him.

“We can’t,” he murmured softly.

“Why not, Dean?” You answered with equal volume. He felt your thumb stroke across his stubble.

His lower lip fell loose with a heavy sigh, his head buckling in your hold. “We just can’t,” he repeated.

He waited for a reply, for any sound that echoed your frustrated with him, but you said nothing as your hands fell away from his jaw. He was forced to release his hold on you when you backed away from him and ducked into the salvation of the car’s privacy, his hands collapsing to his side in regret. He lifted his head to the sky with a brief breath of strength before he reached to shut the Impala’s door and tensely made his way around the fore. When he slipped into the driver’s seat, you’d already taken to the view of your window, hand cupping your cheek as you stared at anything that wasn’t Dean.

Fair enough.

He got Baby up and running, carefully picking his way out of the bar’s crowded lot before they hit the road winding toward their motel. The drive’s scenery was quiet, a stark contrast to the earlier atmosphere, and it made the air between yourself and Dean a whole lot tenser. There weren’t many cars, or people, found wandering by at any point of the trip, so it truly felt like the two of you had been locked alone in a room to confront the unspoken elephant. But he wasn’t so eager to pick at that fresh scab. Besides, what else more did he have to say that wouldn’t end up hurting you?

It felt like a lifetime had passed when he pulled up at the motel, the lot desolate save another car somewhere down the line. You finally shifted from your position of gazing out the window, but it wasn’t to look at him. It wasn’t even to reach for the handle that’d free you from this suffocating place beside him. Instead, your head was turned forward as you gazed through the windscreen.

“You’re one stubborn shit, you know that?” You said suddenly.

Dean followed your lead and decided to focus on the bug stain streaking the windshield just above the view of his wheel. “Yeah,” he scoffed knowingly, his fingers restlessly tapping the wheel’s rim.

“You’re just so determined to let yourself suffer alone—as if it makes you righteous in sparing us the hurt. But in reality, we’re already suffering. I mean, we’ve all got our own shit going on, right? The only thing making it worse is that somebody we care about is going through something unimaginable, but we don’t know how the hell to help him because he just won’t talk about it. Because he’s scared about—I don’t know—making us accomplices to his problems, I guess.”

Dean’s head buckled to the view of his lap as he listened to you talk, gripping the wheel’s rim a little tighter as he strangled the emotion threatening to take ahold of him. He heard you shift in your seat, noting as your knees turned toward him for a more direct confrontation. He didn’t think he could endure your frustration for any longer without finally cracking, and that scared him.

“When will you stop being so selfless, Dean?”

He allowed that question to linger in the air. Him, selfless? He wasn’t sure he’d call it that. To tell the truth, though, keeping his mouth shut had slowly been wearing him down. And it was almost as though walling off both you and Sammy had allowed the voices in his head to get as bad as they did. He knew all of this, but still he couldn’t find it in himself to open up. He’d never been good with rationalising his emotions, or with asking for help to do so. After all, growing up, he’d had nobody to ask. So he’d done the only thing he knew how to—suck it up and act the steadfast parent so that he could take care of Sammy. And ever since, he’d never quite learnt how to step out of that role, or how to take care of himself.

“I guess I’m just not ready to talk about it, yet,” Dean admitted in an unsteady murmur. His lower lip began to quiver, and he hated the way no amount of clenching his jaw seemed to quell it.

The hand he’d hovered on the wheel moved hastily to wipe the moisture he felt brimming on the cusp of his eyes, and he swallowed hard to fight his urge to flee the car. There was a loud silence from your side that made his ears ring; he wished you would say something—anything—before his voices did.

“I get that,” you said eventually. It made him release a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Your hand came fourth to rest on his shoulder, which made him drew a sharp, shuddering breath, despite your warmth seeping through his layers in a way that should’ve soothed him entirely.

“I just need you to know that you don’t have to do everything on your own,” you continued. “It gets exhausting. Trust me, I’ve been on my own for practically my entire life before I met you and Sam.” You paused when Dean turned to face you. “You wanna know something? Humans weren’t made to be alone—to do things alone. We’ve never been strong enough. That comes back to bite some people in the ass, but I’d say for people like us, it’s a blessing. So count them, Dean.”

And finally, as Dean sat stewing in his vulnerability, held hostage under your intense stare, he understood what glint had been in your eye all along. He couldn’t look away from it anymore. As if you seemed to witness his change in demeanour, the hand on his shoulder began to trail down the sleeve of his jacket in a suggestive caress. It set a fire to his chest, one that made him breath a little deeper for the air you seemed to be stealing from his lungs.

“Listen. . . you’re Sammy’s friend,” he pushed out weakly, an attempt to reason against his pressing urges. He hoped that by saying it aloud, he’d be able to silence the part of him that craved the pursuit of you. But for once, amongst the many voices in his head, he could hear his own—loud and clear in it’s true hopes that you’d be braver than he felt and make nothing of his poor argument. That you’d be brave enough to give him the permission he’d been withholding from himself.

You gave him this subtle squint—he caught it briefly in the thinning of your lashes. And then there was the slight hitch in the corner of your lips. The sight made his heart flutter up an inch. For all the voices in his head, he wished he could hear yours right now. Did you want this as much as he did?

Eventually, he caught you leaning closer to his yearning self. “So?” You murmured, the challenge accentuated by the purse in your lips. “I’m my own person before I’m Sam’s friend. I think I’m pretty capable of making my own decisions and dealing with the consequences that come after.”

Dean’s lower lip sank open at that, his brows quirking on anticipation. “I can’t promise you that. . . this, whatever it is, will be an easy ride,” he said. That I’ll be easy to love, he added silently.

You fixed him a long stare, your lips pressed into a thoughtful line. “I told you, Dean, this one’s on me,” you murmured.

This time, he knew that you weren’t alluding to the drink.

You’ll regret this, the voices barked. That’s my own damn decision.

Slowly, he began to lean in toward you, holding your stare and feeling further encouraged by the eager glint that seemed to grow in their breath-taking depths. The voices in his head blared a united jest. She doesn’t want you, she only pities you. You’re going to ruin her, just like you ruin everything else. You think Sammy’s going to forgive you when you break his closest friend? Traitor. Some big bro you are. You’ve always been selfish. He pushed back a mental answer. Shut. It. They didn’t listen.

He felt his heart begin to thud a little harder at his chest, but he gave a hefty swallow to dampen the feeling, and before it had a chance to return reinforced, he pushed his lips to yours.

Silence.

For the first time in what felt like ages, there was silence. Blissful, unequivocal silence. As if your touch was the antidote he’d needed all along to quench the fire hell had set alight to his brain. As if you’d been the missing incantation he’d needed to chant to keep all his demons at bay. And it made him greedy—this taste of peace you seemed to offer him. So he claimed more of it, the kiss deepening as he brought up his hands to cradle both delicate curves of your jaw. In turn, your hands flew up to bracket his neck, before drawing sensual lines all the way to his nape. Your touch was as gentle as he’d imagined, and as kind as he knew you to be, and he craved more of it. More of you. All of you.

Goddammit, he shouldn’t, but he did. He was only human, after all—even if he was all the worst parts of one.

He pulled away briefly to take the view of you in, lips parted in a slight pant. You mirrored him well, the gentle glare of the lamppost light reflected across your slicked lips. The sight made him burn with a more feral desire. He just had to have you. He was far beyond fending off his selfish desires now.

“Dean?” You called softly, an unsure twinge to your tone. You must’ve thought that he’d begun having doubts about pursuing this because there was a sudden, anxious furrow to your brows. But your hands didn’t falter from his neck, and he sure as hell wasn’t letting you go, either.

“C’mere,” he breathed softly, releasing your jaw only to slide his hands down your waist and to your hips, where he settled a firm grip to encourage you onto his lap. You followed his flow so naturally, hands sliding along the toned slope of his shoulders to grip there for support. You manoeuvred across the conjoined seat and reached the first leg over his lap, which Dean cupped at the thigh to steady you onto him. “Yeah, there ya go, you got it,” he murmured encouragingly, and your other leg followed shortly after until you comfortably straddled him.

You tilted your head up to drink in the impala’s ceiling, which could manage a graze of your nose if you lifted yourself any further. “Bit of a tight fit, isn’t it?” You giggled, glancing back down at Dean. He wanted to bottle the sound.

“Hey, she’ll do plenty fine,” he chuckled huskily, his hands comfortably settled at the meat of your hips. His thumbs rubbed tentative circles across your clothed skin, and he watched the way your lower lip drew into a subtle bite. It drove him nuts. He found himself leaning up to reach for your lips once more, but you held him back with an index finger to his chin.

“And just so we’re clear, I don’t have a curfew,” you said pointedly. Dean knew you were alluding to what he’d said back at the bar.

His lips split with a thankful grin. “Hallelujah to that,” he drawled huskily before lowering his lips to deliver a playful nibble to your finger. You let slip a giggle the most bubbly he’d ever heard before plucking your finger away and replacing it with your hungry lips.

His hands found their way below the hem of your dress, where he rubbed a firm line up your thighs. The touch coaxed a moan from your lips, poured into his mouth like the drizzle of honey—he couldn’t help but lap it up. Your hands wandered messy lines up and down the expanse of his neck, even going so far as to tousle his hair. The stimulation drove him crazy and sent a jolt down to his core. The longer your lips spent entangled, the more he felt his jean begin to strain beyond his control—but he didn’t have much adoration left to conceal. If anything, he wanted you to know exactly how you consumed every part of him.

He pulled away from the kiss, chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wantin’ this,” he husked. “Wantin’ you.”

He could see the way the kiss had left you breathless, too, and strands of hair had fallen from the keep of your ears to messily frame your face. God, you looked beautiful. “Your damn fault for taking this long to pursue it. I’ve given all the signs, Dean Winchester, but you are as naive as boys come.”

He reached up to tuck the hair behind your ears, making a point to trail his fingers along the contour of your jaw as a knowing smirk felt out his lips. “Nah, just a good ol’ case of self-restraint,” he murmured.

“Oh because you know what’s so good for you?” You teased. Even under the dim lamplight, he could make out the rosy tint to your cheeks.

“I damn well do now.”

“Then show me.”

Dean grinned at your blatant challenge, hands moving to grab at your hips. He slowly began grounding you against his erection, which plucked from your lips a series of noises that began to grow more and more lewd with each passing second. He felt your nails digging into his shoulders, the padding of his jacket cushioning the sensation into gentle kneading. He couldn’t help but grunt with each blissful stroke against him—god, he could do this all night. It wasn’t long before you’d taken over the job entirely, your hips stirring back and fourth across his lap to a slow, tantalising rhythm that made his head loll back against the seat.

“Fuck,” he grunted, his teeth grit as he endured the waves of pleasure riding its way through every nerve of his body. His fought the urge to flutter his eyes closed, to drown in the darkness of his euphoria because there was no way in hell he was missing a single detail about you—lower lip nibbled, fluttering lashes, heaving chest, a show all for him.

“You like that?” You asked thinly, your eyes fluttering closed as you threw your head back with a single, harsh push of your hips.

“Like it? You’re killin’ me over here,” he pushed out—a gruff, strained sound as he battled the heat accumulating in his groin. The demons, the angels, every asshole out to get him could go stuff it. At the end of the day, it was you that was going to be the sure death of him.

You let out an impish giggle, your hands releasing his shoulders to plough through your hair in the most seductive manner you could manage. It made him clench his jaw, made his grip on your hips a little firmer than before.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he praised breathlessly, eyes fluttering through his lashes as he gazed up at you. You were mesmerising, in everything that you did. You didn’t ever have to be doing much for him to want to stare. Existing was enough. Doing more than existing was a bonus.

He saw the way you lit up at that compliment, and it made him want to shower you with many more like it. Hunting had its kicks, but fuck, this—you—he could find himself addicted. That should’ve made you dangerous, especially when you were all he needed to take to stifle the voices. But he couldn’t pull away from you now. He wouldn’t. In fact, it only made him want to hold onto you more fiercely.

Your hands reached back for the steering wheel as you sought out just the angle to intensify your movements, and that’s when you accidentally struck the hooter. The both of you jolted with the noise, which made your hands fly up to cup your mouth in both horror and amusement, your hips stilling against his lap.

Instinctively, both Dean and yourself turned to glance through the windscreen, zoning in on the door that lead up to the three bed motel you’d been renting for a good month or so. A few tense seconds passed, but the door never opened to reveal an inquisitive Sam, and you both let out with a breath of relief. You collapsed onto the crown of Dean’s head with a fit of laughter, practically hugging his head. He burrowed into your chest with his own chuckle as his hands dragged up your body to wrap around your waist in a hug.

“I’m thinkin’ maybe we should move this party to the backseat,” he murmured against you.

You pulled back to face him, hands entangling at the nape of his neck. “I think that’s for the best,” you giggled, leaning down to place a tender kiss on his lips. He loved how gentle your touch felt, like he was being admired more than desired—something to savour and not to lap up like a greedy, guilty cheat meal. It made him feel valued, and he’d take every damn second of this night to return the favour.

He received your kiss eagerly, eyes falling shut as he basked in your soothing warmth. He found himself breathing a little deeper, your scent streaming in to envelop him further in your essence—as if he craved to be remade in your image. Then, much to his disappointment, you pulled away and left his lips bare as you began to shift from his lap. He watched as you reached past his torso to bend yourself over the seat, and then with a few noises of effort here and there, you heaved yourself over—your flailing foot nearly striking his eye in the process.

“You good?” He called back, twisting in his spot to catch you sprawled on your back along the seat. Oh, you were comfortable, all right.

“Just get over here, Lover Boy,” you giggled, hands grabbing the empty air.

Dean chuckled and shifted onto his knees with a grunt, carefully reaching over the seats to place his hands on either side of your torso. He got the last of himself over so that he towered over your waiting figure, the necklace permanently wrung around his neck slipping his top to dangle toward you. Your eyes latched onto it curiously before you reached up to hold it between cautious fingers. He half expected you to ask about it, but instead, you released it and wrapped your hands around his neck, as if nothing other than him mattered in that moment.

Before he knew it, he was pulled down into a kiss, and he leaned down even further to get lost in the taste of you. His hands lowered along your body to find the hem of your dress, where they fastened around the material and began dragging it up and over the curves of your legs. When he’d gotten to your torso, he broke off the kiss to lift himself a fraction, your hands coming up to aid the removal of your dress. He slipped it over your head and tossed it onto the floor before moving to shed his own jacket and layered shirts. The clutter of your shoes falling to the floor sounded some ways behind him, and he took a moment to do the same, shrugging off his boots into the oblivion below.

He took a moment to glance you over, almost naked save the pretty set of lace underwear. He’d pictured this moment far too many times than he’d like to admit, and now he drank in your every curve, scar and blemish, and marvelled at the soft sheen of your skin to the point where he hoped he’d come to memorise you. Somewhere in the mix, he picked up the sweet tang of your lotion.

“God,” he pushed out absentmindedly, his hands moving to rub soft lines down your waist.

“A believer now, are we?” You poked, your back arching an inch off the seat as you bathed in his endearing touch.

Dean jerked his chin. “I mean, come on,” he grinned, doing another sweep of your body before he leaned down to litter soft kisses along your neck. Your head caved further into the seat, broadening the horizon for his appreciative lips to explore as they pleased—and they did.

He drew passionate lines all over the curve of your neck, even managing a sneaky trail up to your ears, where he nibbled lovingly at the lobe. You giggled, the sound pure music and bliss to his ears. He wandered all the way down to your collarbones, experimenting with light nibbles along the tender anatomy before he soothed it with a slow kiss. You let out a passionate moan that spurred him on, the strain in his jeans becoming far tighter than he could bear, but he couldn’t stop himself from exploring every inch of you just yet. He intended on pressing all of your buttons—desperate to know just how many sounds he could coax from you.

He dipped down to place a kiss on your breast, so perfectly hoisted by the bra he sought to slip from your body. He pulled back in a light pant, his hands coming up to fulfil his wishes. Thankfully, it was one of those that unhooked in the front. It sure as hell would save the extra effort. While he reached for the clip, your hands wandered up his muscled forearms, thumbs tracing over the veins of your choice. He stole a glance from you, noting how you seemed as enticed by him as he felt by you, before he turned his focus back to your bra with a sheepish grin on his lips.

“What’s got you more flustered than a frat boy with a serious crush?” You asked, your hands straying from his arms to trail down his toned abdomen.

Your touch stopped just shy of his navel, but the heat carried all the way to his groin. “Don’t you play games with me,” he warned through a smirk, the bra’s clip coming undone. Slowly, he parted the cupping, his breath usurped by the view of your spreading breasts. “Y’know what, play as many games as you’d like—but keep the damn view, will ya?” He chuckled, aiding your efforts to shimmy the bra straps from your shoulders.

Your hands hovered half-way over the hem of his pants, framing his gently carved v-lines in admiration. And then you began to undo the button of his jean, the zipper splitting downward in a slow and steady whir that hoisted his primal urges. You made a point to simultaneously tug at the hem of his underwear as you pulled down his jean, which he shifted to help aid the removal of. He felt mildly embarrassed at the way his manhood bowed with eager anticipation, but you drank in the view with flustered eyes, lips thinning with an exhilarated grin that told him you were marvelling in the spell you’d cast over him.

When you met his gaze again, there was this almost pleading look to your eyes. He answered your silent prayers by bowing down to place tender, thorough kisses all around the curves of your breasts, even taking a moment to adorn your hardened buds with a hot swirl of his tongue and a gentle toying of his teeth. This action alone seemed to tug at your last thread until you’d unravelled into a mewling mess, slurring his name in a manner that made him never want to stop. His hands came up to squeeze your breasts a little harsher than he’d intended to, but you let out an approving groan that left his grip steadfast as he continued his toying.

The hands you’d settled into his hair was the last straw he needed to finally drag his attention lower, where he instilled sloppy, hasty kisses all along your stomach. He reached the hem of your delicate lace, hands gliding over the meat of your hips to hook his fingers under the waistband and yank it down your legs. You discarded the undies eagerly, and with his newfound access to your womanhood, he gave you a content smile before dipping between your thighs to drag his tongue through your slicked folds. He curled his arms around your propped thighs, his nose burying against your clit as he lapped up your core at slow and steady pace. He deliberately took his time to draw all manner of patterns along the tender skin, keenly listening for any hitch in your moans that indicated he’d found a sweet spot. The sound of your undoing? Now that was a voice he’d gladly allow to plague his mind—all day, all night.

He could tell by the progressive loudness of your moans and the more frantic jerking of your lower half that were close to your limits, so he intensified every flick and whisk of his tongue to help carry you to that point.

“Dean—stop,” you breathed out suddenly. Immediately, he withdrew from your proximity with a concerned glance in your direction.

“You all right?” He asked, releasing his grip on your thighs to rub calming circles along your sensitive skin. “If I pushed too far, I’m sor—” he attempted to apologise, but you were eager to cut him short.

“No, it’s not that!” You said quickly, propping yourself onto your elbows to take the view of him in better. “You’re doing amazing—you’re amazing,” you said through a soft smile, your cheeks blown red by a combination of your stimulation and your almost undoing. “But I don’t want to finish just yet. I want to feel you—all of you,” you explained.

Dean caught on quickly, his heart lurching a short distance. “Yeah—yeah, of course,” he murmured, inching his way back up toward you, where he leaned in to brush his nose against yours tenderly before he dipped to place his yearning kiss onto your lips.

“I want you so bad, Dean,” you murmured between kisses—a sweet, breathless sound that cooed into his ear.

“You have no fuckin’ idea how mutual the feeling is,” He breathed, answering your plea by reaching down to grab ahold of his manhood. He delivered a quick, preparatory pump along the length before he pressed it to your slicked folds and dragged it down to your entrance. You let out a sharp moan at that, the kiss temporarily seizing.

Slowly, he began to insert himself into your warmth. You drank him in so eagerly that he couldn’t stop a strained moan from slipping his lips.

“Oh, man,” he mumbled huskily, head collapsing just past yours as he drove himself into the first pump—so controlled and calculated as though he were afraid to hurt you. You seemed appreciative of his pace, your hands coming up to wrap around the toned contours of his back. “You still good?” He checked in as his hips retracted for the second stroke, angling himself to achieve just the right curve that would boldly reach your sweet spot.

You mumbled a feeble mhm, your fingers burrowing little divots into the muscle of his back. That confirmation cemented him, and he took on a steady pace within you, one hand reaching down to grip your thigh in support. It wasn’t long before the impala began to sway under his growing pace, each powered thrust of his hips against yours providing all the momentum needed to rock the steadfast steel. The mingled tune of your moans and grunts filled the isolated air of the car, the windows tinted with a secretive sweat bled from your combined body heat. It carried on for a while, and he could only hope that nobody was around to witness it.

His high came on strong—and embarrassingly, a lot more quicker than yours. He’d blame it on his infatuation with you. That, and the fact that he’d practically cleansed his brain of the mere thought of you. It’d all been necessary to spare himself the torment of fawning over every aspect of your existence, but now that he was finally afforded the opportunity to truly taste you, could he have blamed himself for being greedy? Still, he throttled the urge to scatter his pleasure, straining and waiting as you reached your own breaking point. He knew you were near when he felt the twinge of your nails against his back, and he brought both arms up to straddle your head as he pressed a desperate kiss to your lips.

With a single, deep thrust of his hips, you both spluttered a weepy breath. The knot in his core dissipated into an elated, white haze that consumed his every sense. For a moment, all he could do was hover himself over you, his lips splayed against yours as he grunted into you. Your lips tangled in breathless bouts of air, occasionally snagging in a weak kiss.

“You’re amazing,” he breathed against your cheek, placing a kiss onto the flushed skin.

Your hands came up to cradle his face and push him just far enough to drink him in. “I adore you, Dean Winchester,” you whispered lovingly. “I always have.”

The way you gazed at him was enough to throb his debilitated heart, and suddenly he felt rejuvenated within—as though you were all the motivation he needed to keep on powering his way through this cruel experience he’d come to call surviving. You made him want to do more than survive. You made him want to live—if not for himself, then for you. You were the type of person he’d have fought himself free of hell to return back to. And now that he was back, one thing was for certain—he’d keep on fighting to ensure his place on this earth. To remain beside you.

Dean had never been too good with words out loud, so he gave you a soft smile that he hoped could convey a fraction of what he felt for you. He removed your hands from his jaw, crowning each with a kiss before he shifted your bodies into a comfortable spooning session. Your back curved into his chest, your lower half perfectly conforming to his as he held you against him like you’d slip away if he relented for even a second. And you laid like that until a gentle, shallow rhythm of breathing overtook you, sleep coming to claim you with a haste he envied. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slipped into dreamland as quickly as that—and when he did, his nightmares would turn up like an eager workaholic reporting for dawn duty.

Now, with you nestled between the arms that had come to memorise the shape of loneliness, he didn’t mind laying there in wake. He listened to the gentle whisper of your flaring nostrils, taking in a fraction of the peace etched across your partially concealed face. He was glad that somebody else could draw peace from him and claim it in the way that he’d never been able to claim for himself. He was glad that somebody was you.

It had always been you.

He’d been the biggest fool trying to convince himself otherwise.

──────────────────────

a/n: trying out a new format here bc the old one is exactly that. old. n e ways. first Dean fic—be kind to me!! :’) this was so daunting to write, but boy did I have my fun with it. i hope y’all enjoy this piece, i haven’t been able to get this sad sad man out of my mind. i just want to hold him close at all times. also i’m not responsible for any typos i’ve missed bc it’s currently 2 am and i’m scrambling to get this out. the drafts are sick of it.

thank you for reading! all likes, comments & reblogs are deeply appreciated! ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀི

tags — @gibson-g1rl @bohemianblasphemy @fallbhind

comment/message me if you’d like to be added to/removed from the taglist of any future dean winchester works!

other works — supernatural masterlist

[endlessthxxghts]

Breakfast

Husband!Joel Miller (no outbreak) x afab!Reader

Summary: Your usual Saturday morning routine with your husband takes a turn, for the better. W/C: supposed to be 1k as per my celebration rules, but... it is now 2k... Oops... I’m sure y’all don’t mind😚. 18+ MDNI: Implied age gap (8 years per request hehe<3). Feminine pet names. Oral sex (reader recieving). Implied domesticity kink. Slight overstimulation, multiple orgasms. Soft Dom!Joel. Dom/sub undertones. Joel being a check-in king (safe word system in action, we love good communication). P in V unprotected. Breeding kink (y'all should expect this from me from now on LOL). ONE (1) USE OF "DADDY" (I had to, I'm not sorry). Sweet sweet aftercare.

A/N: This is in response to this request made by @survivingandenduring for my 1k follower milestone celebration. I remember you being one of the first to accompany me on my journey, and now that we're here together celebrating something I'm so humbly honored to experience, it feels so surreal. I love and appreciate your existence so so very much. Thank you.💚 I hope y'all enjoy!! (Pics for aesthetic purposes only)

MASTERLIST || L'S 1K CELEBRATION

Saturday mornings are your favorite. They’re lazy. They’re warm. They’re spent wrapped completely in the arms of your husband, Joel Miller. Whether it’s your lips or your limbs tangled in between the sheets—Saturday mornings are for you and him. 

So when you woke up this morning to the other half of your bed colder than usual, you woke up with a frown. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you pull yourself to the restroom to brush your teeth and wash your face, not bothering to change out of your sleep clothes since you made Joel promise you that you guys weren’t going anywhere today.

“Darlin’?” His Southern twang calls out. 

“In the bathroom, baby,” you respond, rubbing in the last of your face cream. 

With a soft knock to your door, he’s entering, a crooked grin at the sight of you. You can’t help the grin that breaks across your face—no matter how long you two have been married, the bashfulness of two teenagers crushing on each other will never go away. 

“Good mornin’, beautiful,” his gruff voice rasps, walking up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, his lips ghosting the sweet spot below your ear. 

“Good morning, handsome,” you reply, leaning your body into his large, warm form. 

“Come back to bed,” he whispers, his face burying itself deeper into the crook of your neck. 

“Where’d you go?” You ask, not particularly liking the fact that you didn’t wake up with him this morning. 

Joel turns you in his hold so you’re facing him now. “I’m sorry, my love, I thought I’d be quicker than I was,” he tells you, catching the tone of disappointment in your voice. “I went to make you some breakfast,” he admits. “Nothin’ fancy, I just- I wanted you to eat.”

You narrow your eyes at him, flashing him a small smirk. “What’s your motive, Miller?” 

“Uh-” he stutters, not expecting that from you. “No motive, baby. What, a man can’t make sure his lady eats?” An exaggerated offensiveness evident in his inflection as he speaks. 

“Please,” you giggle. “Every Saturday, like clockwork, I either wake up with your tongue, cock, or fingers inside of me,” you state matter-of-factly. “Why breakfast now?” you ask, your eyebrow quirked up, his signature look. You cross your arms over your chest for good measure. 

Damn, you’re good. And damn, he’s so fucking in awe of you. “Fine,” he relents. “The last few times… after we’re done… you get super jittery and lightheaded. Like your blood sugar is low or somethin’. I dunno, I just, I don’t wanna be pulling so much energy from you, especially on an empty stomach.”

Your jaw would be on the floor right now if it wasn’t attached to you. Oh. My. God. You knew what you were getting into, marrying a Southern gentleman and an older one at that; and you knew just how considerate a lover Joel Miller was, but it never fails to leave your heart—and your pussy—fluttering at how attentive your man is. You are so damn lucky. 

Going back to the room and settling on the bed, Joel climbs up beside you and feeds you your breakfast—one of your absolute favorite combos: a greek vanilla yogurt, your favorite granola, and chopped up fresh strawberries. You make this almost every morning, but something about him making it just makes it taste a thousand times better—leaving your body energized for what was next to come… because shit, did you need it. 

“Joel,” you sob, tears falling from your eyes as they fight to stay open. 

He lifts himself off your cunt, bottom half of his face shiny with your arousal. “Gimme one more, darlin’, then I’ll give you my cock,” he tells you, his heavy breath fanning across your spent center. 

“Joel, I-” you whimper, “I can’t.” Your hips bucking into his face says otherwise. He taps your hip three times. Safe word? He silently asks. One tap for green, two taps for a yellow, three taps for red—an immediate stop. Your hand nearly ripping his curls out of his head softens, tapping his neck once as you attempt to gain your breath back, soft whines blessing his ears. 

He nips the inside of your thigh before he speaks again. “You can,” and then he’s diving back in, tongue breaching your entrance as his nose rubs perfectly at your clit, hurtling you towards your third orgasm of the morning. 

“Oh, fuck-” you nearly scream, head pushing into your pillow with your eyes clamped shut, back arching off the bed. Joel throws his arm across your lower belly, keeping you down and open for him as he licks you through your high. 

Finally, he relents with a satisfied smile, placing a chaste kiss to your clit. “Knew you could give me another, my darlin’ girl.”

“Mmm, baby, please,” you say, reaching for his jaw to bring his face to yours. Not yielding to your touch completely, he brings himself up slow—the tip of his nose dragging up your naked body, Joel placing open-mouthed kisses up your belly, up your sternum, all the way to your lips, your arousal lingering with his own flavors in a deep, needy kiss. 

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he says into your lips, nipping your swollen lip before pulling away to let you speak. 

“N-need you,” you breathe, desperate. You bring your hands down to his boxer-clad bulge, your fingers causing him to twitch. 

Joel tuts, pulling your hand away and bringing it up to the side of your head, his large hand holding it down. “And I need you,” he says, biting your lip again, “to use your words, baby. C’mon,” he urges. Outside of the bedroom, you are very outspoken—this morning’s interaction as evidence—yet, when you find yourself a writhing, moaning mess underneath him, all words are stolen from your brain, all the breath is stolen from your lungs.

“Please,” you start, more determination this time. “I need you inside me, Joel, please fuck me.” You hike your legs higher up, your thighs hugging his waist as you shift your hips, your wet center rubbing against him. 

“Such a good girl f’me,” he praises, sitting up to guide his boxers down, leaving you with a complete unobstructed view of his tanned and toned naked body, his soft tummy turning the pupils of your eyes into hearts. He’s so fucking sexy, and, well fuck, you just said that out loud. 

Joel blushes, leaning back over you to kiss your forehead and your lips before he’s lining himself up with you, his sensitive tip breaching your entrance at a slow pace, his girth thick enough to stretch you every single time in all your years of marriage. 

Your eyes slowly shut as he kisses at your neck. The depth he’s able to reach as he slowly pumps in and out of you, the pubic hairs at his base rubbing against your clit, his deep groans making butterflies erupt in your belly—everything is utterly consuming your body, forcing your already sensitive body to your fourth orgasm of the morning fairly quickly. 

Joel is rocking at a steady pace, one hand underneath your lower back while his other cups the back of your head, his fingers rooting themselves into the base of your hair and applying a slight pressure, knowing the sensation drives you absolutely wild. The moan that floats through the air is enough for Joel’s cock to twitch inside of you, threatening to release at any moment. With all his strength, he lifts his head up from your neck to hover above your own, reveling in the furrow of your brows and the needy gasps coming from your throat. 

“Darlin’,” he rasps. 

“Mhm,” you squeak, unable to form any words. 

“Look at me,” he tells you, hips speeding up. He knows he’s only making it harder for you. 

Your eyes slowly peel open, but your eyes immediately roll back, the pleasure making your mind go numb. 

At your action, Joel is slowing, his hips coming to a near halt. That gets your eyes open. “J-Joel? Baby?” you call, your voice quivering with frustration. You were getting close. 

“Need those pretty eyes on me, darlin’,” he explains, his hips only starting back up because of your eye contact. 

“Y-yes, baby, okay,” you reply shakily, wanting to do anything for him to continue. 

He moves in and out of you again, incorporating a delicious slow grind with every push in. The pleasure is too fucking much, and your eyelids are slipping again even though you’re trying with every ounce of your strength to keep your gaze fixed on him, you fail. 

Again, his hips come to a painful stop. “Darlin’,” he warns. “You stop, I stop.”

“I-” you cry. “Joel, I can’t.” Tears pool at your waterline. 

His hand comes to your face, his thumb catching the runaway tear. “You can, baby, and you will.” It isn’t a request. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, keeping Joel as close to you as possible, his breathing keeping you grounded as you attempt to keep your eyes on his. Satisfied with your attempt so far, Joel starts moving, and this time, he completely lets go. Thrusting into you not too fast or not too slow—and he’s going hard, every push would make you slide slightly up the bed if he weren’t holding onto you the way that he is. 

Your eyes flutter, not shutting completely but not staying open, and Joel makes a warning sound, his mouth spewing filth to keep you focused on him. 

“Need to see those pretty eyes while you flutter ‘round me.”

“Don’t you wanna be filled? I know you want it—crave it.”

“Keep them eyes on me, babygirl. I’ll give you what you want, just lemme see you.”

“Fuck, Joel, please-!” you scream, your hips thrusting on their own accord, your climax shattering throughout your entire body. 

“Thaaat’s it, baby, atta girl,” he moans out, the sensation of you sending his eyes nearly to the back of his head. “Fuckin- give it to me, baby, just like that.” 

“Sh- shit, baby, fuck-” you cry, “please, Joel, please.” 

“Please what, baby? Use your words,” Joel rushes, chasing his own release as he pushes you through yours. 

“Please- please cum inside me, daddy, fuck- needa feel you,” you sob, your fingers gripping onto his back muscles, leaving bright red scratches in their wake as he rails you into the mattress. 

“Yeah, baby? I’ll- oh, fuck-” he whines, his balls pull taut, his tummy muscles clenching, and within seconds, he’s cumming inside you, the sticky warmth covering every inch inside of you, leaking out of your entrance as he continues his movements, slowing himself down to a stop. 

You two lay there for a moment, your chests heaving against each other. Joel places a kiss to your nose, then your lips, then he’s lifting himself off you, heading to the bathroom. You hear him start a bath. 

He comes back after a minute, guiding you to sit up and make your way to the bathroom. He kisses your shoulder. “You alright, darlin’?” 

You nod your head yes, a content smile across your features, eyelids heavy. He pulls your chin between his thumb and his forefinger, making you look at him. His signature scowl, the playful version, is on his face. Those damn words, baby, he’s telling you. 

“I’m more than alright, baby,” you finally verbalize. “I love you.” 

“I love you more, baby,” he kisses your cheek. “My darlin’ girl,” another kiss to your forehead. “My beautiful wife,” your other cheek. He continues on like that until he’s peppered your face in kisses, consuming your body with a love quite like no other. You’re a giggling mess by the time it’s over, begging for him to give you a second to breathe. 

Only then when you two settle against each other in the warm, bubbly water, does he ask his burning question. 

“Did, uh… did the breakfast help you?” 

You take a moment to register how your body feels. It feels light. Not light as in lightheaded or weak—like previous weekends. No, you feel light, warm, content—you feel energized, like you can take on the world right now despite the fact that your legs are still made of jello. You feel good. 

“Yeah,” you say. “Helped a lot.” 

“Good,” he replies in success, kissing the top of your head before he starts massaging every part of you he can reach. 

End note -

I love you, you beautiful humans 🫶🏼

Also, please check out the links highlighted in red on my pinned post to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help 🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

divider in middle of fic made by me, vine graphic at top & bottom made my @/saradika-graphics

@pedrostories

[venus-haze]

Damned If You Do (Bo Sinclair x Reader)

Summary: You're almost certain Bo's getting tired of you. You're not so sure how much longer you can prevent the inevitable, but a slip of the tongue in a moment of desperation proves to be your salvation.

Note: Female reader but no other descriptors are used. I missed writing for Bo! I might be kinda rusty, but I hope y’all like it🖤 Please read the warnings before reading. Do not interact if you're under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Canon typical violence. Prolonged captivity and isolation. Stockholm syndrome (some basement wife elements). Mentions of past torture. Extremely dubious consent. Sexually explicit content involving vaginal fingering, sadism, degradation, choking, knife play.

You were sure Ambrose was gonna kill you if he didn’t first. The damp, dead air permeated the basement walls, filtered in thick through the vent in the ceiling and filled your lungs with each breath. It would choke you once summer settled in, foul and unforgiving. Almost as unforgiving as him, whose presence inspired fear and loathing in you. Lately, however, the lack of it brought a foreboding sense of dread over you as your isolated mind raced to its logical conclusion.

Bo was getting tired of you.

One cursory glance at the state of your body made you panic—bruises fading, cuts and cigarette burns scarring over without fresh marks to replace them. For the first week or so you were there, every part of your body pulsed with pain. He found your limits with the efficacy of a bloodhound and brutally forced you past each one. 

All you felt then was dull aching, kinda hungry, too. Didn’t bode well for your long-term survival.

You shifted on the old, lumpy mattress on the floor, stained with blood, sweat, and cum that reeked with the breakdown of others’ bodily fluids. Probably the girls in the Polaroids all over the walls. He’d taken a few of you since you’d been down there. Hadn’t done that recently, either. Mostly came down there to feed you, take you upstairs to use the gas station bathroom, bring you back downstairs to throw you around a little and fuck you, and then leave. Shit. You were becoming a chore.

Bo had plenty of chores around Ambrose already. Would grumble about them to you, the closest he ever got to pillowtalk. The movie theater, the church, even the houses were his responsibility. You weren’t quite sure why, less able to clearly picture the town you’d driven into the longer you spent as Bo’s captive. There weren’t any immediate red flags that popped out at you. After all, you’d driven straight to the gas station on your blown out tire. Didn’t take the time to do any sight-seeing. He made sure of that. From what you’d gathered from Bo, the only living souls in town were he and Vincent, with the recent and temporary addition of yourself.

The floor creaked above you, and you pulled your knees to your chest, anticipating his arrival downstairs. It was almost impossible to tell what mood he’d be in whenever he’d pay you a visit. Tried listening for the sound of his footsteps, the way his boots pounded against the linoleum above to the cement stairs to where you waited for him, as if you could do much else. There was the TV, but the glimpse into the outside world left you feeling especially helpless when your own face flashed across the screen on the 6 o’clock news not long after you became captive in Ambrose. Then after a week or so, all mention of you stopped. Seven days for you to be rotated out of the news cycle. They’d gotten tired of you long before Bo did.

You screwed your eyes shut, as he ambled down the stairs, racking your brain for what to do. Opened them just as quickly to give him your undivided attention, just how he liked. Panicked and hopeless, you blurted out upon seeing his face, “You’re gonna kill me soon, aren’t you?”

He set the bottle of soda he’d undoubtedly brought down for you and smiled. Charming, disarming, like the one he first gave you when you naively drove into town on the roadkill guy’s advice—Lester. His name was Lester. Could he have known? Was he in on the whole thing? You hadn’t seen anyone but Bo for weeks, and he only made mention of Vincent, his brother, who you were certain had no interest in rescuing you from your plight.

“What makes you think that?” he asked.

‘Tire blew out,’ you had told Bo, feeling silly and self-conscious when he laughed. ‘I can see that.’ Threw a wink your way and assured you he’d have you back on the road before it got dark. You trusted him because he was handsome and laid on the compliments thick. Made you think maybe driving over that broken bottle in the road wasn’t such a bad thing after all. Within an hour he had you in that fucking basement.

“You—you’re bored of me,” you said. “You don’t come down here as often as you used to.”

“Aw, you miss me? Is that it?” he mocked.

Maybe. Maybe it was the security of knowing you were wanted, that the longer you kept his interest, the longer you’d be alive. Maybe even earn his trust enough to get a chance to escape back into the world that’d forgotten about you. But Bo wouldn’t forget. He’d keep you immortalized on those cinder block walls with all the others. Disgustingly sentimental. Part of you preferred being part of his shrine to his own depravity than a black and white photo people carelessly flipped past in the local paper.

“How are you gonna do it? Tell me,” you begged.

He tilted his head, narrowed his eyes at you as a grin spread across his face. “Well, I like to get that shit over with quick, but you might be worth slowing things down for.”

“Like—like how?”

As soon as he made his way toward you, regret filled your gut. You crawled backward on your hands, trying to put some distance between you until your back hit the wall. His hands were around your neck, his hungry eyes drinking in your distress.

“If you were most girls, I would just keep squeezing until you stop breathing,” he said, squeezing harder. “Pretty clean.” Black spots filled your vision as you fruitlessly tried clawing at his hands. “Makes it easier for Vincent to get to work on you that way.” He released your throat, and you fought through the coughing fit that burned in your chest as you gasped for air. Tears streamed down your face, and you wanted to smack the smug expression off of his.

“But that ain’t always fun,” he said.

Bo stood up and kicked your legs apart with his boots. Grabbed something from the nearby tool cart. The fucking knife. You swore he kept the blade dull on purpose just so it’d hurt more, leave nastier scars behind in its wake whenever he dug it into your skin, dragging it through your flesh with horrifying precision that only came from experience, because you never needed stitches.

“For you, I think I’d be a little more personal.”

He straddled you, sitting on your legs so you couldn’t possibly move them in an attempt to escape or defend yourself. You could feel his hard-on straining against his jeans, pressing into your bare pussy as he leaned over you, knife shining menacingly in the buzzing fluorescent light overhead. He made rags of your clothes not long after you became his and never offered any replacement.

The blade pressed against the middle of your chest, right between your breasts, making you shudder. He licked his lips. “I could shove this knife on in there, open you up all the way down to your cunt.” His fingers brushed your clit. “‘Beauty’s only skin deep’, that’s what my mama used to say. But sluts like you all look the same on the inside. Crack open your ribcage, and I wouldn’t be able to tell you from all the rest.”

You whimpered as he dragged the blade down your abdomen with a deceptive gentleness, his fingers still working your clit, making it hard for you not to jerk your hips, risking a slip of the knife directly into your belly. 

When he lifted the knife, you couldn’t even let yourself feel relief as your eyes followed it to one of your wrists. 

“Could take it nice and slow. Let you bleed out,” he pressed it against your skin, dangerously close to a vein. “It’d take hours for you to die, then. Messy as hell, too, but we could get up to some fun, you and me. A good fuck for ol’ times’ sake, then I can sit back with some popcorn while I watch the lights go out in those pretty eyes of yours.”

You let out a shaky breath, fear and arousal mixing with your lingering lack of oxygen so you could only half-grasp what exactly he was saying, just that he had a knife to your wrist, and he was enough of a homicidal monster to kill you that way. He slid his fingers inside you, and you could feel your orgasm creeping up on you, your head heavy and fuzzy as he kept going. 

“But if we’re talking easy and personal, then I’d just—” He brought the blade up to your throat until you could feel your rapid pulse beating against it. 

Bo curled his fingers, pleasure tearing through you as you jolted in place, feeling the cool metal superficially pierce your skin. 

Your voice came out as a strangled sob. “Please, Bo. Please don’t—” 

He kissed you, an undertone of fondness in the gesture that filled you with relief and terror. “You won’t have to worry about any of that for a long while,” he said, his voice low, reverberating through your aching bones. “I’m not finished with you yet. Not even close.”

[atomicami]

surprise visit

contractor!abby anderson x joel’s daughter!reader

- summary: after your first encounter with abby, she’s all that’s on your mind. because of this, you decide to ditch work one day and go to her father’s contracting site to pay her a visit, only to find out that she feels the same way with you. (part 2 to quick fix)

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, contractor/engineer!abby, texas living, no sarah, joel and jerry are both alive, jerry is not a doctor, reader has a business degree, family & work drama, office sex, oral & fingering (both receiving) squirting, thoughts of strap usage, cockblocking, reader and abby almost getting caught again, pet names instead of y/n, abby begging if you squint, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything

- author’s note: no bc i was literally shocked over how quick fix blew up omg?? thank you guys so much! i had so many people request for a part 2 so here it is! i hope y’all enjoy it :)

To your luck, your dad didn’t suspect anything when he found out the TV got fixed.

You told him that you ended up calling the electrician instead. And while he did scold you on how the electricians here tend to overcharge their customers for their services, he eventually just let it slide.

Besides, it would have been better to tell him that rather than the truth. That the daughter of his work rival set foot in his house to fix the TV, only to soon put her hands on, or rather inside his precious daughter.

Movie night flew by slow for you that day, like painfully slow. Abby was all that ran through your mind that night. You pretty much spent that night sitting on the couch surrounded by your friends, in that same spot where Abby’s head was in between your legs just a few hours before. You’d keep turning your head back just to take a peek at her house across from you.

Eventually, you became so desperate for that night to be over that you decided to end things early and escorted your friends out of your house, only to soon get under your bedsheets to try to fix the ache that was forming in between your legs once again.

But you knew damn well that it could never compare to how Abby made you finish that day. She made you finish in a way that no one else could have.

Despite that, the two of you may have thought about the idea that this could have just been a one-time thing, but you were still tempted to see her. You didn’t want to go against your dad’s rules, again…but just like the last time, part of you was leaning towards doing so.

Besides, you got away with it the first time…who’s to say you might be able to do this for a second?

But you don’t see her right away. Despite how hard it may be for you, you make the effort to wait for the right time.

A week passes by since your first encounter with Abby, and that’s when you decide to go see her.

You’re on your shift at work, finishing up some customer calls before gathering your things to head out. Once you get to the door, you stop in your tracks for a brief moment. A variety of questions start to flood your mind:

Is it worth it to take the risk again? What could happen if you end up getting caught? Would Abby even want to see you again? Is she craving you the same way you’re craving her right now?

You quickly shook your thoughts out of your head and turned the doorknob, exiting the office trailer before closing the door behind you. However, you only make it down the first few steps before running into your father. He bumps into you while finishing a call, phone in one hand and some files in another.

Joel quickly hangs up the phone and peers his eyes down at the screen. “Hey kiddo, I was just lookin’ for ya so I could give you these—“ He cuts his sentence off once he looks up from his phone to see you standing in front of him, bag over your shoulder and car keys in your hand, ready to leave as if your shift was already over. He looks at you with a confused expression. “Where are ya headed? You’re not done for another few hours.”

You try your best to come up with an excuse on the spot. “Oh, I have to head out to run some errands…I uh, need to start buying ingredients for the bake sale next week.”

That was a full-on lie. You already bought everything the week before. And knowing Joel, he can typically sniff out a lie like a bloodhound. But you still hope that he’ll take the bait for it.

Your dad simply nods and puts his phone back into his pocket. “Alright sweetheart, well, whenever you can, I need ya to file these for me. No rush though.” He hands you the files before passing by you to head into the office. You let out a sigh of relief, only for that feeling to soon come to a halt when he calls out your name again.

You turn back around to face him. “Yeah?”

“Do you think you could make that—that custard cake— what’s it called again…You made it last Thanksgiving at Uncle Tommy’s, remember?”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “You mean my flan?”

“Yes!” Your dad exclaims. “Make as many of those as you can. Wanna be able to beat Anderson in the bake sale this time.”

You pursed your lips together and nodded. “Alright, I’ll be sure to make those then,” you reply.

Your dad gives you a thumbs up in response before pulling out his phone to take another call and stepping back into the mobile office.

Another sigh of relief escapes from you. If it weren’t for your dad being so occupied with his clients, you definitely would have been caught a lot sooner. As much as you love and care for your dad, his obsession with trying to one-up Jerry at his job seriously drives you crazy.

Crazy to the point where you decide to break his rules and get with Jerry’s daughter, perhaps?

Once you approach the parking lot, you step into your car and start it up before pulling out your phone. The first thing you end up doing before anything else is shutting off your location. Aside from Abby being off limits, your father was never really the strict type. The only reason behind having a location set up on your phone was so he’d make sure you were safe whenever you’d be working late at the company or when you were out with friends.

But that’s not the case today, since you’re simply just ‘running errands’, as you so graciously told him before leaving.

Your finger hovers over the screen before tapping on the navigation app. You then type in the directions for Anderson Contracting Company.

Those are three words you definitely didn’t expect to be putting into your GPS.

Once the route guidance was set up, you shift your car into drive before slowly pulling out of the parking lot and exiting your dad’s contracting site.

Excluding the possibility of traffic, it usually takes about 15 minutes to get to Jerry’s contracting site. That is…if you’re taking the fastest route. But due to the anxiety bubbling in your stomach, you decided to delay yourself as much as you could to get there. You avoid the highway if possible, purposefully miss every exit, and even let every single driver pass you while on the road. You’ve lost count of how often the GPS has rerouted since you were just going around in circles.

Eventually, you quit stalling and follow the correct route to Jerry’s contracting site. That feeling of deja vu instantly hits you once you see those two familiar pickup trucks in the parking lot upon arrival. It meant that there’d be another 50/50 chance of either running into Abby…or her father.

But it’s not too late though. You’re still in the car. You haven’t left yet. There’s still a chance to back out of this now and leave as if you never showed up in the first place.

But then again…you’re tempted to go in and search for her. You truly couldn’t resist being away from her for so long. A week may seem like nothing for most people, but to you, it felt like a fucking eternity. Do you really think that Abby might feel the same way?

Fuck it. You do it anyway.

Once you’ve stepped out of your car and locked it, you start making your way over to the contracting site. Your chances of backing out progressively become slimmer with every step you take.

Before you know it, you’re standing at the site, front and center. Jerry’s site looks quite similar to your dad’s—pretty spacious, filled with loads of inventory, it even had the same trailer-like mobile office that stood its ground next to the parking lot with its company logo in big, bold lettering.

But then again, all of that pretty much looked the same to you. The only task on your mind right now was to search for that man’s best employee: his daughter.

You squint your eyes to get a better look at the workers on site right now. They all looked the same to you due to the far distance—a bunch of little figures all spread out in its ample environment. However, you do see Jerry standing among those figures, to which you’re relieved. He had the same height and build as Joel, but with lighter physical features instead of your father’s dark ones. At least you knew where he was situated right now.

But Abby? She was nowhere to be seen.

It didn’t make sense to you at first. Her truck was in the parking lot, and given her prominent figure, she’d be easily identifiable out of all of the workers that were scattered around the site.

Regret starts to pass through your body right now. You felt like you’d wasted your time coming here.

That is…until you feel a strong, familiar hand grab your arm from behind.

You freeze in your tracks and slowly turn your head around. Your prayers have been answered once again.

Abby keeps her grip on your arm and turns you around, her body shielding yours so her father wouldn’t spot you from the distance. She then leans into your ear. “Stay in front of me and keep walking forward,” she says sternly.

You nod and continue to walk in her direction. The two of you approach straight to the mobile office, and you notice that the door is wide open. Looks like that solves the mystery as to why you couldn’t find her in the first place.

Abby guides you up the steps and brings you inside the trailer. She makes sure to check her surroundings before entering inside and closing the door behind her, locking it shut.

“Are you seriously out of your mind?” She asks, turning around to face you. “It’s one thing to come to my house, but to come to where I work? And with my dad here? What if he saw you?”

You shook your head at her and put your hands up to quiet her down. “I know, I know…This is literally the last place I’m supposed to be at right now, but I need to talk to you.”

She let out a sigh and shook her head as she walked over to her side of the trailer where her desk was. “About what?” She asks, turning back around again to face you.

“It’s about last week, um…” you trail off for a second, briefly averting your gaze from her and nervously rubbing the back of your neck. “When you came over to fix my outlet…”

Even though you weren’t looking at her, you could feel the smirk that was growing on her face. Abby leans back against the corner of her desk and crosses her arms. “Oh yeah? Which outlet are we talking about, exactly?”

Looking back at her now, you scoff at her and lightly shove her shoulder. “Come on, you know exactly what I mean…” You let out a sigh before continuing. “Look, I don’t know about you but…it’s been on my mind this past week. And I need you to do it again. Please.”

Abby raised an eyebrow at your statement. “Make you do what now?”

Jesus. She’s really trying to get the words out of your mouth, isn’t she?

Another sigh leaves from your lips. Your eyes divert back to the ground again. “I…I need you to make me finish like that again.” You mutter out to her. “No one has ever been able to make me feel that good…besides you.”

As hard as you were trying right now, the desperation in your voice was still so obvious to hear. You didn’t want to be desperate about it, but you couldn’t help it.

However, Abby was quite flattered to hear that, and even a little relieved. Despite her previous experiences with women, she wanted to be able to please you the most. It was just hard for her to ever do so due to both of your dads’ rules.

She looks out the window for a moment. Her dad appeared to be miles away from the two of you, still barking orders at his employees over inventory. She then walks over to the back of her desk and moves some things around to make some space before motioning you to come over. “Come here. Sit on my desk.”

You oblige, walking over to the back of her desk. You give yourself a boost and sit on top of it. Looking down, you see her hands placed down on the desk, one on each of your sides. It’s almost as if she’s slowly entrapping you with her large frame.

You look back up at her to see her looking down at your lap, watching how your thighs are pressed together right now. “I don’t regret it, you know…” she starts, looking up at you. “Coming over. I don’t regret it at all. If anything, you’ve been on my mind just as much since then.” She then leans into the left side of your face and whispers this memorable statement in your ear:

“Even my tongue still remembers the way you taste.”

“Fuck..” You mutter under your breath, averting your gaze back down. Her words alone were already turning you on and making your arousal rush quickly to your core.

Her eyes were now meeting with yours when you looked back up at her. “Would you want to do it again?” You asked her. That same smirk shows back on her face as Abby shakes her head. She thought your question was ridiculous, even after hearing what she had just said to you. But on the contrary to last week, you were now the one seeking reassurance from her.

Without taking her eyes off of yours, she slightly parts your legs open with her knee and slides a hand underneath the knee-length pencil skirt you were wearing. Your breath hitched once you felt her touch, followed by your thighs tensing up a little. “Is this answering your question right now?” she asks, not stopping her movements.

You try to catch your breath as she holds eye contact with you, nodding slowly as her hand inches closer to your heat. Her actions come to a halt once her hand reaches your clothed cunt. It wasn’t until her fingertips brushed against the soft fabric that you broke eye contact with her to look down at your lap, even though her hand was hidden under your skirt.

Abby did the same, gently pressing her thumb down against the now damp piece of fabric that was separating her hand and your pussy. Her action causes you to jerk back a little. The ache in between your legs was making you sensitive. “You’re so wet for me already, fuck…” she mutters out, hooking her finger underneath your underwear and moving it to the side. You spread your legs out farther for her for better access, trying to hold back your whimpers when the cool air of the office’s AC tunnels under your skirt and hits your wet pussy.

This gives Abby the chance to start inserting one of her fingers inside you. The second her fingertips start passing through your tight entrance, you instantly feel alleviated. Despite the slightly uncomfortable feeling it can give you at first, there was something about Abby’s fingers that was just so…addicting. It’s almost as if you needed to have her touch inside of you all the time.

You can’t help but let out a whimper once you feel a second finger enter inside you not even a minute later. Abby leans in to kiss you, desperate to swallow the pretty sounds you’re making while her fingers were nestling in your pussy.

“God…” she begins to mutter in between kisses. “It’s only been a week…and you feel even tighter than when I first went down on you…” She briefly pulls away from your lips to kiss your neck.

Abby silently cursed at herself for not having her strap in her possession. If only she had known beforehand that you were going to sneak your way out of work to come see her, she would’ve brought it with her. As much as she loved having you come undone onto her fingers, there was truly nothing more she wanted to do right now than to fuck you senselessly on top of her desk.

Your hands grip the edge of her desk when she begins to slowly pump her fingers in and out of your pussy. More sounds continue to leave your lips, and you begin to involuntarily grind your hips against her hand as a desperate call for her to go faster, which she soon ends up doing.

“Fuck, Abby…” you whimper out to her. “Your fingers…feel so good…” You bring your gaze back down to your lap, watching the hidden movements of her hand under your skirt.

Secretly, it was kind of pissing both of you off that you still had that fucking skirt on. You’ve been trying to hold back the urge to strip yourself down. The pleasure that Abby’s giving you right now with just her two fingers was so good that having your skirt and underwear still on you was bothering you so much. At that moment you didn’t want anything touching you from the waist down.

Anything except for Abby’s fingers.

And it was even more frustrating on Abby’s part because although she could feel and even hear your needy pussy underneath your skirt right now, she couldn’t see what she was doing. She wanted to see her actions right now. She wanted to watch your pussy visibly contract against her thick fingers before coming undone on them.

That stupid skirt was by far the worst obstacle for the two of you right now. But regardless, it wasn’t going to stop Abby from trying to make you finish. You told her that you needed her to make you cum just like how she did when she first came over, and that’s exactly what she was going to do.

Your grip on her desk tightened when her fingers were now going at an uncontrollably fast pace. Your head was thrown back, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your mouth slightly parted. A moan would escape from your mouth with every brush of her fingertips on your g spot. That familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach forms as your cunt begins to pulse around her fingers, indicating that you were getting close.

Just like last time, your head starts to feel heavy once again. You try to tilt back down to meet with Abby’s gaze so you can let her know. “A-Abby…” you call out to her. “I—fuck—I’m getting close…”

She simply nods, not quitting her pace with her fingers. “I know you are, that needy cunt of yours won’t stop squeezing my fingers.” She looks back up at you. “Just ride it out for me like last time, make yourself cum on my—“

Then suddenly she cuts her words off. Her gaze starts to avert away from yours, and her fingers start to slow down.

She turns her head around to look out the window, leading you to do the same. The pleasure in your body soon starts to replace itself with panic when you see who’s approaching closer to the office.

Abby’s father.

She turns her head to face you and she can practically see the pleading in your eyes. You were already so close to the finish line. So close to finishing on her fingers and getting to that blissful feeling that you’ve been craving from her touch for the past week.

“Abby…” you whisper out to her. “Please…just let me finish…”

Although she felt like she could do it, and make a new record out of it, she just couldn’t take the risk.

Abby could feel her heartbeat racing as she heard her father’s footsteps get closer to the door. She looks over at you, her gaze flickering between your face and your lap, where her fingers remain inside of you.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered back and pulled her fingers out of you, causing you to whimper at the loss.

The rattling of the doorknob startles the two of you, followed by the sound of keys jingling. Abby instinctively grabs your hips, getting you off of her desk. “Get under my desk,” she commands, leading you to quickly crouch down onto the ground and tuck yourself into the leg area of her desk.

Abby sits back down in her chair and scooches in, scattering all of her blueprints, sketches, and files back on the center of her desk to make herself look busy.

Then the door clicks, right on time.

She looks over to her left and watches her father enter inside. Jerry’s eyes were fixed on his phone screen for a moment before looking up to see her. “Hey kid, I didn’t know you’d still be in here,” he says, walking over to her desk. “Why’d you lock the door?”

Abby immediately starts stammering on the spot, trying her best to figure out an excuse. “Oh, um…I think the self-lock was still on..”

He nods in response, looking at the door and back at her. “I see…Well, I have to head into town in a bit to check out a client’s property. They’re in need of their kitchen being remodeled and I’d like to get to them before Miller does. Do you think you can go outside and finish up with inventory while I’m out?”

Abby nods slowly in response. “Yeah dad, of course, I can do that for you.”

The two of you figured that Jerry would leave after that…But he doesn’t. He continues to discuss work with her while you remain hidden under her desk.

About three minutes have gone by, but to you, it feels more like three hours. Despite the amount of legroom that Abby’s desk had, you still felt so cramped up. All that was there to see right now were three dark walls and the sight of Abby from the waist down. Wait a minute…

That’s when an idea popped into your head. The way Abby was sitting, manspread in her chair, her cargo pants tightly hugging her thighs even though they’re meant to be loose, and that tool belt of hers…it sure seemed to provide some coverage down there, right?

You want to talk yourself out of it, you really do. This wasn’t the time or the place to be doing this right now. But five minutes have passed now and you truly have no idea when the hell Jerry is going to get out of there so the two of you could be alone. Might as well keep yourself occupied for the time being, right?

Without trying to make any noise underneath, you shift your position on the ground until you’re kneeling. While Abby now remains distracted by talking to her father, you slip your hands in under the large pouches that were attached to her tool belt. Once your hands find the button and zipper of her cargo pants, you attempt to undo them and get them off of her.

Abby’s eyes quickly flicker to her lap before looking back at her dad, who was now talking to her about another client that Joel took from him. She notices what you’re trying to do, she can see it without even having to take her tool belt off. She truly wishes more than anything right now that she could at least help you take her pants off for her.

“…so I'm going to see if I can be able to meet with them next week and see if I can convince them to do business with us instead of Joel. I was thinking that—” Jerry’s words soon get cut off by the sound of his phone ringing, leading him to pull it out of his pocket and answer it. “Hello? Yes, this is him…”

While Abby’s father speaks through the phone, he briefly looks away from her. This gave the perfect moment for her to discreetly lift her hips so you could get her cargo pants and boxers down. You open her legs, eyeing her pussy that was hidden underneath her tool belt. Without even thinking twice, you dive in between her legs, quickly latching your mouth onto her clit.

Oh God, now Abby really needed her dad to leave right now.

The chair starts to shake a little beneath you as Abby’s hands grip each side of the armrest, trying to hold back any sounds as you sucked on her clit. Now it was up to Abby to try and compose herself in front of her father because the second he’ll notice something unusual, both of you would be screwed.

Abby glances over to see her dad turned around, still complaining through the phone. Her breath continues to hitch while you keep sucking and licking at her clit. “God, your mouth feels so good…” she mutters out quietly to you, praying that her dad didn’t hear her. She soon hears her dad finishing up his phone call and sits back up before scooching forward, trying to hide as much of herself below the waist down as possible.

“Look, just give me ten minutes and I'll be there. I’ll show you the plans I have for your kitchen, and I can assure you it’ll be better than what Miller would have in mind.” Jerry soon says his goodbyes before hanging up the phone and turning back around to face his daughter.

“That was the client I was just about to go see today. They’re already considering doing business with Joel instead.” he crosses his arms and shakes his head in disbelief. “The nerve of this ignorant man…He’s seriously trying to do anything just to get more clients than me…” he lets out another sigh before continuing. “I'm gonna head out now to meet with them. Please make sure to finish up on inventory before you leave alright?”

Although it wasn’t like you had a choice at that moment, you couldn’t help but eavesdrop on what Jerry was saying. You were definitely into Abby, but you couldn’t stand how Jerry talked about your father. As a result, you decided to do something just a little bold. While your mouth was fixated on playing with Abby’s clit, you insert two of your fingers into her pussy with no warning, causing her to jerk back at the sudden movement.

“Y-Yeah!” she exclaims before quickly closing her mouth shut, as well as her thighs. “Yeah, um…I-I’ll be sure to do that…” she says, her voice back at her normal volume.

Her father raised an eyebrow in suspicion but didn’t think anything of it. The only thing on his mind right now was getting to that client’s place before Joel does. “Alright then…I'll see you at home.”

Abby watches as her dad leaves the office and closes the door behind him. She turned her head around to the window to make sure he was officially out of view before letting out a sigh of relief. “Fuck…” she breathes out. She then pushes her chair back and quickly unbuckles her tool belt before tossing it to the ground, looking down to see the sight of you with your mouth and fingers both still attached to her cunt.

“You really are a fucking tease, aren't you?” she asks you. “Going down on me like that while my dad’s in the office because you can’t keep it in your pants…I didn’t take it that you’d be such a slut for me like that…”

With your fingers still inside of her, you briefly removed your mouth from her pussy to respond to her. “I seriously couldn't keep waiting any longer, Abby…” you plead out to her.

Abby slightly tilts her head to the side, raising an eyebrow in mock confusion. “Did I tell you to stop doing that, though?” she asks.

You shake your head in response. “No, I—”

“Exactly. So get back to it, princess.”

You then feel her hand on the back of your head, bringing it back down into her pussy. Without taking your eyes off of hers, you seal your mouth back onto her clit while pumping your two fingers in and out of her cunt, watching her every move to the pleasure that you were giving her.

“Fuck, oh God…” she moans out, pushing your head farther in. “Fuck, just like that…p-put that mouth of yours to good use…”

You moan into her pussy as a response, causing her body to slightly shiver. Your fingers speed up their pace inside her, desperately trying to get her to break apart. A string of breathy moans continues to escape from Abby’s mouth while your head stays nudged in between her legs.

You can’t help but hear those sounds that Abby was making as your tongue kept lapping up her juices. It was making you even wetter than before. You wanted to reach down and touch yourself so fucking bad, but you couldn’t. Not only was it because Abby would immediately suspect that you were doing that to yourself, but you were getting so fucking drunk from her pussy that you couldn’t even move any other part of your body except for the parts that were moving inside her right now.

“Oh fuck, I think I’m getting close…” she moans out to you, tightening the grip on her armrest. “Please…please don’t stop…”

The way Abby had begged you to keep going was driving you insane. Now you were more motivated than ever to make her finish. Your fingers were cramping, your jaw was getting sore, and your face was so buried in her pussy that you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

But you still refused to quit.

You keep driving her up to her climax until she finally comes undone with a broken moan, finishing all over your mouth and fingers. Once she’s finished on you, you lick and suck her release until she’s completely clean before taking your mouth and fingers out of her.

Abby looks back down and is amazed at the sight of you right now. Your pupils were completely blown out due to how drunk you’d gotten from her pussy, and her release was smeared all over your face. “Well, it looks like I’m not the only one who likes to get all pussydrunk…” she tells you, smirking once again.

You meet your gaze with hers and smirk back at her. “I had to return the favor for you somehow…” you reply, wiping her release off of your chin with the back of your hand. “Consider it a thank you for fixing my outlet last week.”

Abby returns your response with a smile. However, her eyes soon flicker over to your lap, where you were clenching your thighs together on the ground. Now she remembered that she needed to finish what she started.

She leans over to put her boxers and cargo pants back on before standing up completely. “Come on, get back up on my desk.”

With your legs still together, you slowly get up from the ground and stand up next to her. After almost getting caught by Abby’s dad and being under her desk for what felt like fucking forever, chances are that the heat pooling between your legs right now is going to be a lot more for Abby to work with this time.

You watched as she made space on her desk for you again by pushing her things around. Some of her blueprints and sketches fell to the ground as a result, but she could honestly care less about that. Her hands then move to your waist, picking you up in an effortless manner and placing you back onto her desk before leaning in and locking her lips with yours, tasting a bit of herself in the process.

Your hands grab at her shirt and pull her closer to you, while Abby’s hands grab the hem of your skirt and pulls it down your legs, followed by your underwear right after. Her lips then pull themselves away from yours so she can look down at your pussy. “Oh my God….” she breathes out to you, her face inches from yours. The arousal in between your legs had spread so much that even your inner thighs were shining with your slick.

“You’ve been trying to hide this mess while you were under my desk, weren’t you?” she asks, to which you nod in response.

The sight of your wet pussy was so fucking much for Abby right now that she needed to step back and sit back down. You watched as she sat back in her chair and pulled onto the side lever, letting it sink down so her face was parallel to your pussy.

Without even thinking twice, she dives her head in between your legs. As much as Abby had wanted to challenge herself and use her fingers like last time, she still had that desire to taste you, because she truly is one for craving the way your arousal would linger on her tongue.

“Fuck, Abby…f-feels so good…” you whimper out to her, grabbing her braid and pushing her head further into your pussy. With half-lidded eyes, you make the effort to keep your gaze at the window to be on the lookout. You seriously did not want to have to deal with the possibility of getting walked in on…again.

The amount of moans and whimpers that leave your mouth only drives Abby to speed up her pace. She ends up pulling your hips closer towards her as she continues to eat you out like a woman starved before inserting two fingers inside and quickly pumping them in and out of you.

Your hands have flown back to gripping the edge of her desk once again and your elbows are now propped at the center of it to support yourself. You can’t even focus on looking out the window anymore with all of the overstimulation that she was giving you right now. At this point, both of you could care less about someone knocking again.

It didn’t take long for that familiar feeling to build up in the pit of your stomach again. That same feeling that you had gotten when she came over last week, that same feeling that you had reached around 15 minutes ago before Abby’s father decided to interfere at the wrong time.

You try your best to even form a sentence right now to let her know that you were getting close. “A-Abby…I-fuck…I’m getting close again…”

She simply looks up at you without stopping her movements. Her bright blue eyes were darker than before, and her pupils were blown out just like yours not too long ago. She was getting drunk off of your arousal once again.

With her free hand, she manages to do that same movement with you again, where she brings it over to your stomach and presses her palm down, all while maintaining her mouth on your clit and her fingers pumping and curling themselves deep into your cunt.

From there, it didn’t take long for you to reach your peak.

“A-Abby…I’m gonna—Fuck!”

And that’s when it hits you. Before you could even warn her again your cunt pulses hard once last time before cumming all over her mouth and fingers, leading her to greedily drink you clean. Your head is thrown back in pleasure, your stomach is all tense from the pressure of Abby’s hand, and your inner thighs are trembling and dripping.

Once you’re able to catch your breath, you look down and watch Abby pull her mouth and fingers out of you. That same deja vu feeling hits you again when you see the condition she was in. She was just as out of breath as you were, and her fingers, face, and lap were now covered in your release.

Abby leans in and strokes your trembling thighs to calm them down followed by planting kisses throughout the tender parts of your skin. “You alright there?” she asks with a smirk, wiping her chin with the back of her hand.

You nod slowly at her and give her a smile, still slightly drunk off of your orgasm. “Yeah, fuck…” you breathe out. “You’re so good at this, you know..”

The blonde simply shrugs in response. “Anything to get that taste from you, princess.” she replied with a chuckle, kissing your inner thigh one last time before setting it down.

You watch as she picks up your underwear and skirt off the ground and helps you get them back on before getting off of her desk. You hear her chuckle again when she sees you try to stand with your legs still limp. “Think you can walk?” she asks, that same smirk showing up on her face again.

You roll your eyes at her and playfully slap her shoulder. “Oh, I’ll be fine…” you tell her in reassurance.

Abby shakes her head in response, placing one hand on your waist before holding one of yours with her. “Let me walk you to your car. I’ll take you out the back so no one sees us.”

Once you safely get to your car, you unlock it and slip yourself into the driver's seat before closing the door and starting it. You then roll down the window to see her hovered over you, her arms resting on the roof of your car.

You feel yourself blush a little when you see how damp her clothes now were because of you. “Um, what do you plan to do with that?” you ask her curiously, pointing at her clothes.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve got my gym clothes in my truck, I’ll be fine.” she reassures you.

You nod in response. “Okay, well…thanks again for, um…”

“Fixing your outlet again?” she asks, raising her eyebrow.

You let out a laugh at her response. “Yeah,” you confirm with a nod, “For fixing my outlet, again.”

Abby chuckles and shakes her head, briefly looking down at the ground before back up at you. “So I’ll see you at the bake sale next week?”

You bite your lip, trying to hold back your smile before nodding again. “I’ll be there.”

Abby leans in to kiss you goodbye before tapping on the roof of your car, indicating that you were good to leave. You wave at her as you pull your car out of the parking lot and exit the site.

Well, it’s safe to say that you most definitely will be attending that bake sale next week.

- a/n: did not expect this one to get long…part 3 anyone?

part 3 here

requested tags 🏷️: @ourautumn86 @winfleurs @aouiaa @zombholic @abbysfavewh0rx @lia-winther @grooviestcowboy @pretty-prrincess-13 @iwillkilyou @erinsdeluluworld @elliens4 @totallyghostdgirl @sirenbxby @bellaramslover @echostinn @uraesthete @cherrycolouredflunk @whorn3y @thatonementallyillsimp @elliewilliamsmunch

(striked text means i couldn’t tag sorry!!)

2023 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[usomads]

Under the Mistletoe // Jimmy Uso x Jey Uso x Reader

Author’s Note -> Strap in folks, this is a long one 😅 I may have gone a little overboard with this one but hey, it’s the holidays and I’m in a giving mood 😂 anyways, I hope y’all enjoy this and as always happy reading!!! 

Plot -> A holiday tradition puts you in an interesting position with your future brother-in-law Jey, and your fiancé, Jimmy. Will the three of you brush past it like it’s nothing, or will the tension consume you?

Pairings -> Jimmy Uso x Jey Uso x Fem!Reader

Warnings -> Cursing, Fingering, Spanking, Oral Sex (M!Receiving, F!Receiving), P in V, Double Penetration, Threesome (M/M/F), Creampie, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 4.0k

Holiday parties were a specialty in the Fatu/Anoa’i household. Every year, the Samoan Dynasty threw an extravagant party on Christmas Eve to celebrate with their closest family and friends, and you being engaged to Jonathan meant you would be there no matter what. Most people would dread the amount of time they spent with their future in-laws but you loved the get-togethers the family would put on, especially the annual Christmas party, being that this was your third year in attendance. You loved it so much, in fact, that you bought yourself a brand new dress just for this occasion: a red corset-style bodycon dress, made in velvet, with a plunge neckline and a thigh-high slit to match. You paired your new dress with gold jewelry and a matching pair of red velvet heels, your hair falling down your back in wavy curls. You looked elegant and classy with a dash of seductiveness, not enough to bare everything to all of the other attendants but just enough to turn heads in the right way. Adjusting the strap of your heel and grabbing a handbag from your closet, you made your way downstairs to Jonathan, who had been patiently waiting for you to get ready. He adjusted his watch and smoothed out his all black suit before watching you descend down the stairs, a look of adoration and desire evident in his eyes.

“Damn, baby…” he walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, “you sure we have to go? ‘Cuz I’d have a much better time here at home.” He moved a curl to the side and pressed kisses to the side of your neck, making your eyes flutter shut before lightly pushing his chest.

“Babe, no! We have to be there tonight, we don’t need your mama and Kishi gettin’ all mad at us because you can’t keep it in your pants, mister.” You teased, shooting him a wink as he pouts. 

“But-”

“But nothing! We’re going, and if you’re good maybe we can resume this when we get home,” you bite your lip, holding back a smile as his eyes light up- his hopes of getting some tonight going up with your words. “Now c’mon, we gotta go before we end up bein’ late.” He then rushes to grab your coat, making you giggle as you put on the fabric over your dress and heading outside to the car.

The party had now been in full swing for about an hour now, and you spent that time sipping on a glass of champagne and socializing with friends and family about your upcoming wedding, life updates, and all the usual small talk that was had at these types of events. Eventually, though, your glass of champagne was empty and you needed another. A waiter came by offering to refill it for you but you declined, wanting to move around a little bit so you walked to the kitchen yourself to refill your glass. After pouring yourself another flute of champagne you decided to make your way back, nearly bumping into Joshua, Jonathan’s twin brother, in the entryway of the kitchen. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I totally wasn’t paying attention.” You stammered, trying to apologize.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N, it’s gonna take a lot more than you to knock me on my ass.” You laugh in response, relaxing a bit in his presence as his eyes wander down your body. There was no denying you looked incredible tonight, and your ensemble had his mind racing like so many times before. He would take those thoughts with him to the grave because if anyone found out, if Jon found out, about how bad he wanted to rip Y/N’s dress off of her body and fuck her against the nearest wall… well, he’s not entirely sure what would happen. So instead of falling deeper into his imagination he focuses his attention back on her face, engaging in simple conversation and definitely not thinking about something else. 

The two of you talk for a while about random things, letting the conversation take y’all away for a while until you’re interrupted by Jonathan walking from the living room into the kitchen.

“Y’all gonna head in here for the gift exchange or- oh, what do we have here?” He looks above you two then smirks, his eyes darkening slightly. Both yours and Josh’s eyes follow and notice something hanging above you- mistletoe. Your eyes grow wide and Josh holds his hands up in surrender, taking a step back.

“Aye uce, we were just talkin’. Ain’t nothin’ goin’ on here, bro.” 

“Jon, I-” you stuttered, still in shock, “it’s really not what it looks like, like he said, we were talking and…”

“I know, I know,” he laughs, leaning against the wall, “but… it is tradition. So you know what that means…” Josh and you stand in shock, still not quite sure if Jon was joking or not. You make eye contact, feeling heavy tension between you and him as you both remain standing under the hanging plant.

“Um… uce, are you saying that we should, you know…”

“Why not? It’s tradition, you can’t break that shit. Especially in this household? That shit would never fly, uce. I’m not stoppin’ y’all, might as well.” Jon shrugs, his eyes dark with lust and a hint of excitement, and that’s when you realize- he’s dead serious. You swallow hard and turn to Josh, who’s already eyeing you closely. You shake out a breath, your voice only finding a whisper.

“A-are you okay with this? W-we don’t h-have to if you d-don’t want to..” your hands fidget with your dress as you look down, embarrassed. 

“Are you?”

“I- yeah, I mean it’s just a kiss… right?”

“Yeah…” Josh trails off, “just a kiss…”

“Y’all just gonna stand there or are we doin’ this?” You snap your head back, finding his eyes for permission as he looks at you. “Y/N, baby, it’s okay, I promise. I’m not gonna be mad or anything. I just wanna see somethin’...” Your brows furrow in response as you feel Josh reach for your hand, turning your attention back to him. 

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to, it’s entirely up to you, Y/N… your move.”

“I-,” you breathe out, “I’ll do it. It’s just a kiss…” You notice Josh’s eyes flicker with an emotion you hadn’t really seen on him before. Disappointment, maybe? The thought leaves your mind as quickly as it comes in, his hand reaching for your waist and gently pulling you closer to him- almost hesitant, like he’s still unsure if he’s crossing the line or not. You look up at him, your heart racing as he stares down at you. Are we really about to do this? 

Josh leans down as your eyes close, leaning into him as his lips brush yours. They’re soft as they touch yours, lightly hovering before pressing onto your own. He’s a great kisser, his lips massaging yours gently but passionately until you sense him holding back- like he wants to kiss you harder, deeper, but knows he can’t. After a few seconds he pulls away, your eyes remaining closed as you take in deep breaths, still trying to grasp the fact that you just kissed your fiancé’s brother. You open your eyes to Josh’s staring into your own, his now intense gaze staring right back at you. You bite your lip as you look at him, trying not to crumble under his gaze.

“That’s all you got?” Jonathan breaks the silence, as you both turn to look at him. “Y’all can do better than that. Don’t act like y’all don’t feel that shit too. I been seein’ the way look at each other, you don’t gotta hide it. Go ‘head, try it again but this time do it like you mean it. And after that, we can see how far we wanna go.”

“Uce, you sayin’ that…”

“Josh, I’m not stupid. You don’t do a great job of hiding it at all. Shit, when I first came in here you looked like you was wantin’ to bend her over the counter and drill her shit in front of everybody,” you gasped, a rosy blush rising to your cheeks. “And don’t give me that look either, Y/N, I saw you lookin’ him up and down earlier. You want him too. So let’s make this interesting, hmm?” He paused, walking over to you two. “Honestly? I can’t lie and say I’ve never thought about it. So if you two want it, and I want it, then why don’t we just go all the way?” You and Josh stand frozen, eyes wide as you stare at Jon. Jon’s lips turn to a devilish smirk, looking at you both. “Do it again, and what happens afterward happens. I wanna see where this goes, and I know y’all do too.”

You bite your lip, looking back at Josh as he watches you take your lip between your teeth. Josh and Jon make eye contact, having a silent conversation before Jon nods at him. With the confirmation he needed Josh pulls you to his chest, tucking a hair behind your ear. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this, Y/N.”

“M-me too.” You blush as his hand brushes your cheek, sending sparks through you as he pulls you in and kisses you hard. This time, he’s more desperate. Your head spins as his lips massage yours with desperation, hunger, like he’s been starved his entire life. You kiss him back with the same urgency, wrapping your arms around his neck and tangling your fingers in his curls as the kiss deepens. Suddenly the both of you pull away, gasping for air as your lips tingle from the sensation- wanting more, needing more.

“There we go, now that-” Jon is cut off by someone yelling into the kitchen, letting the three of you know the gift exchange was about to begin. “We’ll come back to this later, yeah? As much as I’d love to stay here, we got gifts to open. C’mon, y’all.” He walks back into the living room as you join his side, looking behind you at Josh who gives you a wink before the three of you rejoin the festivities.

The gift exchange went without a hitch, only some occasional glances shared between the three of you that the others were too distracted to notice. Usually that would be the end of it but someone suggested watching a Christmas movie to end the night, which had you sharing the couch between Jon and Josh. You were anxious, but also excited? It wasn’t out of the ordinary to share a couch with them but after the events that unfolded, you were looking at this completely differently. Blankets were passed around to everyone which meant the three of you were sharing one, only fueling your jitteriness. The lights were turned off and the movie started, the only thing illuminating the living room being the large TV.

About halfway through the movie Josh had adjusted himself to where his thigh was now touching yours, and Jon’s hand was sitting on your other thigh. You glanced at Josh out of the corner of your eye, his eyes glazed over as he stared down at you and smirked. Jon picked up on this, making eye contact with Josh and slowly sliding his hand down and in between your thighs. You shuddered at the movement as you felt another hand, Josh’s, do the same. 

“Focus on the movie, baby,” Jon whispered in your ear, “gotta be good for us if you wanna get what you want. I need you quiet, got it?” You nodded eagerly, adjusting to spread your legs for them- resting a leg on each of them. Josh swallowed, suppressing the groan that wanted to escape his throat as the twins inched their hands closer to your aching core. The two cursed under their breath, realizing you werent wearing any panties underneath your dress as you felt their fingers graze your wetness. Jon found your clit first, rubbing slow circles while Josh’s teased your entrance, sliding a digit in as your head fell back and rested on the back of the couch. Jon’s free hand moved the blanket to shield any prying eyes, although no one could see due to the darkness in the room, as the two men played with your pussy underneath it. You were biting onto your lip hard enough to draw blood, trying desperately not to cry out in pleasure and draw attention to the three of you as they continued. 

“Fuck Y/N, you’re so tight… can only imagine how you feel squeezin’ my dick, baby.” Josh mutters in your ear, his tone making you gasp quietly. He chuckles at your response, moving his fingers faster and watching your face contort at his and Jon’s actions.

“Whatchu think, ma, should he come home with us tonight?” Jon whispered loud enough for only you three to hear and you nodded, looking at the two with pleading eyes. 

“Don’t worry, baby girl, imma be there. Promise.” You sigh in content at Josh’s words, your eyes flickering back to the screen as the ending scene begins to play. The other two notice, sharing a look then removing their hands but not before tasting your juices on their fingers. You watch as they bring their digits to their lips, winking at you as the lights turn on and the guests begin to depart- the three of you doing the same.

The car ride was silent, Jon occasionally sneaking glances in your direction as you desperately pressed your thighs together. You continuously looked in the rearview mirror, watching as Josh’s car followed you home. Finally you had made it, pulling into the driveway with Josh pulling in behind you. The three of you got out of your vehicles at the same time, trying to remain calm and not rush to the front door as Jonathan punched in the code to unlock it. The door was opened, as the three of you tumbled inside. You removed your coat and the men their suit jackets as Josh gripped you from behind, latching his lips to your neck as Jon kissed your lips full of fervor. Josh had unzipped your dress from behind, allowing it to fall to the floor as you stood completely exposed to the twins. Both groaned at the sight, their hands searching your skin desperately for relief. You felt Josh’s hard-on press into your backside as you leaned into him, pushing back on him enough to elicit moans from the man’s lips. Your fingers fidgeted with the buttons on Jon’s shirt and removed the material from his torso, your hands gliding along his chest as you continued to kiss him. 

“Go upstairs and get on the bed, me and Josh will be up in a second.” You nodded excitedly as you rushed up the steps, Josh smacking your ass as you moved past him. You yelped in excitement as he chuckled, watching you ascend up the stairs. You made it to yours and Jon’s room and did as you were told, laying down on the bed and anxiously waiting for them to get there. Finally you heard them coming up, their voices low as they discussed what you assumed were ground rules for this. They entered the room, both now only in their boxers as you waited patiently for them to join you. You sat up as they got onto the bed, laying down on either side with you in between them. You went to Jon first, removing his hard cock from his boxers and spitting on it before wrapping your lips around the tip. As you swirled your tongue on him and bobbed your head you also took Josh’s cock in your hand and stroked him, Josh hissing as your hand wrapped around his shaft. You alternated between the two, taking turns sucking both men and making sure both got equal attention. 

“Shit, ma, you’re takin’ us so fuckin’ well,” Josh moaned, his head resting on the headboard.

“Fuck, baby, look at you takin’ us both…” Jon moaned in agreement. “She deserves a reward, don’t she, uce?” Josh nodded in agreement as you looked up at him, his eyes glazed as you took as much of him as you could down your throat. He lifted your head up from his cock, his fingers resting under your chin. 

“Go ‘head and lay back, baby. It’s our turn to take care of you.” You obliged, laying on your back as the two men stood up, stroking themselves. 

“You want Josh to eat you, ma? Should we let him taste you?” You whined in response.

“P-please…” Jon nodded at Josh who kneeled down between your legs, planting wet kisses along the inside of your thighs. Jon brought his cock back to your lips, you opening them for him to slide his cock along your tongue as Josh placed a kiss on your throbbing clit. You arch your back, moaning around Jon’s dick as you continued to suck him. Josh moaned into your pussy, his tongue lapping at your folds as he brought a hand to your breast, kneading it in his palm.

“Tastes so fuckin’ sweet, fuck, could eat you all the time,” Josh muttered against you as you bucked your hips, eager for more. He chuckled, bringing his free hand to your folds and rubbing the skin.

“Be patient, Y/N, imma give you what you want..” You moaned once more, Jon now thrusting himself inside your mouth as Josh wrapped his lips around your clit and pushed two fingers past your entrance. You cried out as they stretched you, pumping inside you at a fast pace as he continued biting and sucking on your clit. You were already close to cumming, your walls tightening around his fingers as you moaned profusely around Jon’s cock, him knowing you were close.

“You gonna cum for Josh, baby? Gonna let him see how pretty you look cumming all over his face?” You whined, now bucking your hips to match Josh’s movements. “Atta girl, you can cum, baby. Let him see you.” Your eyes shot open and looked at Josh, watching as he ate you like he hadn’t eaten in days. That was enough to send you over the edge, releasing Jon’s cock from your mouth as you moaned Josh’s name and came for him. He cleaned you up as you came down, lifting his head to reveal your juices all over his face and beard. 

“Goddamn, uce, you wasn’t lyin’... she’s fuckin’ incredible.”

“And you haven’t even felt her pussy wrapped ‘round your shit yet,” Jon looked down at you, still breathing heavily but aching for more. “You wanna let him feel you, baby?”

“Fuck yes, please, baby…”

“You heard her, you got first. Remember what I told you though…”

“Yeah, yeah, no cumming inside her, I know…” you unconsciously pouted hearing that, feeling a little bit of disappointment.

“But- but I’m on birth control… please? Just this once? I just…”

“You what?” Josh asked, Jon now staring intensely at the two of you. “What, you want us both to fill that pretty pussy of yours? Hmm?”

“Well… that would be nice but I kinda had something else in mind…” 

“And what’s that?” Jon asked you gently, playing with your hair.

“I, um, I saw something a few days ago but I was thinking… I know we don’t do, uh- anal that often but… in this video she was getting fucked by two guys at the same time… like one was doing it normally and the other was, um…”

Josh wore a shocked expression, 1. not expecting you to watch double penetration videos and 2. definitely not expecting you to want that. Jon, on the other hand, was intrigued.

“You sure you can handle that, princess? That’s some pretty intense stuff… I-”

“Fuck yes,” you responded, a little too fast. “I mean, yeah, I think so. I just wanna try it, you know, see what it’s like…”

“That good with you, uce?”

“Yeah, I mean- shit, if y’all are down then I am…” Josh replied, “You wanna lead the way, princess?” You sat up quickly, the excitement and adrenaline taking over as you pushed Josh by his chest to lay on his back so you could straddle him. You took his cock in your hands, guiding it to your entrance and sinking down slowly. You gasped at the size, feeling your walls mold around his shaft and wrap around him tightly as you sat completely on him. Josh moaned loudly, his hands immediately finding your hips as you began to grind on him. He guided your movements and helped you find rhythm, allowing you to pick up your speed and bounce on him. Your thighs connected with his over and over, him now bringing his hands to your ass. He kneaded the flesh in his hands before smacking your ass, moans falling from your lips as each slap filled you with a mix of pain and pleasure. Behind you, Jon was applying lubricant and stroking himself at the sight before him. He had imagined a scenario like this many times before, but none of them compared to what was happening now. Seeing you handle them both so well only turned him on more as he situated himself behind you, teasing you with his tip from behind.

“You’re sure about this, baby? It’s not gonna be too much?”

“N-no please, n-need you both.” You stammered out in between moans as he groaned at your response, his tip at your entrance before pushing himself inside your ass. You cried out, tears brimming your eyes as he pushed his way inside, not used to the feeling. Josh pulled you down to his chest, peppering you with kisses to help you through it as Jon fully entered you. He gave you a few moments to adjust, working at your pace, but eventually the initial pain subsided and you were nodding at the two of them to move.

You had no words to describe how this felt, only loud moans as the two men fucked both of your holes- their moans combining with yours and filling the room. Both of them picked up their pace and were drilling into you, using you as their personal fuck toy, and you loved every second of it.

“O-oh my g-god, fuck, p-please d-don’t stop…” you cried out, “s-so fuckin’ g-good…”

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” Jon grunted. “You love it, don’t you? Being fucked stupid by both of us at the same time? You’re taking us so well, baby…”

“Mmm, I- I l-love it…”

“S-shit, ma, look so pretty all fucked out f’us,” Josh moaned in your ear as he kissed your neck, “you gonna cum for us, baby girl? I feel you squeezin’ me, I know you’re close…”

“I- I-”

“I know, baby, I know,” Jon moaned, “I’m there too, mama, cum for us, princess. Let go all over his dick like a good girl.”

You convulse between them, your orgasm coming at you in full force as your pussy tightens around Josh, urging him to follow suit. Both men cum inside you with loud moans, filling you completely with their seed. All three of you ride out your orgasms, finding your sense of reality and coming back down as you catch your breath. After a few moments they both pull out, the three of you laying side by side as their cum drips out of you and onto the sheets.

“How you feelin’, baby? You good?” Jon asks, turning over and brushing your hair out of your face.

“Never better,” you breathed out.

“Shit, uce, I’m standin’ under every damn mistletoe I can find to get that shit again,” Josh laughed, you and Jon laughing with him as the three of you slowly drifted off to sleep.

[baptismbaby]

† GOD, FORGIVE ME PT. 2

mean!ellie x innocent!reader a/n: posted this to ao3: baptismsbaby warnings: toxic!ellie, corruption, virgin!reader, praise, degrading, gaslighter!ellie, belittling, strap on (r!receiving), not rlly angsty but sorta? creds to elliesgalaxy on pinterest for the pic of ellie wc: 4k<3 part one here

You kneeled by your Bible and candles praying for forgiveness for what happened the previous night. Although you enjoyed your time with Ellie, you felt guilty for going against your own morals. You didn’t judge your friends for having premarital sex and you didn’t think you’d go to Hell over it. If so, everyone would burn and not reach paradise. But you always told yourself that you’d wait until you were married before having sex. You blamed the alcohol and the weed but a part of you believed you would’ve done it sober.

You stood up with a sigh, knowing you had promised to meet Dina for lunch to talk about Ellie’s apology. You spent all night coming up with a lie, which you also felt horrible about. You grabbed your bag and headed out the door. You greeted everyone with a smile as you walked past them. You were thankful that no one knew you drank and smoked the night before.

You walked in and almost ran face first into Seth, who glared down at you. “Sorry!” you apologized, stepping past him and heading towards the table where Dina was sitting.

“Hey you,” she greeted with a smile. “How are you feeling today?”

You sat down and set your bag in the chair next to you. “I woke up with a slight headache this morning but it went away after an hour. So I guess not too bad,” you responded.

“You’re a champ. I feel much better but I woke up feeling like complete shit.”

“I guess I didn’t drink enough to get a proper hangover.”

“Which means you didn’t get drunk enough. Gotta try again!”

“Absolutely not!” you disagreed. “I don’t think I wanna drink again. It tasted horrible!”

“That’s why you get a chaser,” said Dina. “Anyways, let’s get to why we’re here.”

She grabbed your wrist and looked deep into your eyes with a smirk. “Please tell me what Ellie said! I’m so shocked she apologized. She never admits when she’s in the wrong.”

“Well, she came up there and basically told me that she felt bad for making me upset. Even though she’s always doing that,” you laughed. “But she said she realized it went too far and that really, I’m not that bad or something like that. She promised she wouldn’t make fun of me again but who knows.”

“So, are you two gonna be friends?” Dina asked.

You shrugged. “I don’t know… she actually invited me over to watch a movie tonight but I think I’m gonna pass.”

“I think you should go. Ellie never invites people to her place unless it’s for a party or she’s bringing a girl home to fuck. Damn, she really feels bad then,” said Dina.

You couldn’t help but smile. Even though she wanted you to come over to fuck you again, you liked the idea of Dina believing Ellie was going out of her way to prove how sorry she was to you. You originally were going to come over and tell her you weren’t sure if y’all should continue seeing each other but it wouldn’t hurt convincing her to watch a movie. 

“Maybe I will go,” you stated. “I wouldn’t want things going back to how they were before.”

Dina peeked behind you and smiled. “Speak of the devil,” she said. You glanced back to see Ellie walking in. Her hair was messy, the top half of it tied up. She wore her gray hoodie still and baggy jeans. She looked over and made eye contact with you. She fixed her gaze on Dina and made her way to the table.

“Sup, Dina,” she said.

“Hey Ellie.”

Ellie looked back at you and nodded. She walked away and sat with a dark haired woman across the room. She smirked at you before starting a conversation with the girl. You frowned, holding your head up with her hand.

“Well, she didn’t say anything to you but she acknowledged you,” Dina uttered.

You couldn’t stop staring at Ellie and the girl. “Who is she sitting with?” you interrogated.

“That’s Cat. You know Cat, she just cut her hair so she’s a bit unrecognizable now.”

You felt a pain shoot through your stomach in jealousy. “Oh, her ex?”

“Yeah. I think they’re talking again. After you left the party, she came by and they disappeared for a couple minutes.”

You felt sick. Ellie used you and knew how much it meant to you to have sex. You got up quickly, the chair scraping across the floor loudly. Ellie turned her head from across the room, staring at you in confusion.

“I-I forgot,” you said. “I forgot I was supposed to help Sadie with something for bible study.”

Dina cocked an eyebrow at you. “Sadie’s on patrol?”

You smacked your face with your hand. “Shoot, you’re right. That’s next Saturday. Nevermind. I do need to go, though. My head is beginning to hurt again. I think I need a nap. It’s starting to get busy and all the chatter is killing me.”

“You alright?” asked Dina with concern.

“I’ll be okay. I’ll take a nap and feel better.”

“Let me know if you need anything. Oh, and come by tomorrow around noon! I wanna know what you and Ellie are gonna talk about tonight.”

You said nothing to Dina, spinning around to leave. As you walked out, you could see through the window that Ellie was at Dina’s table, leaned over and talking to her. You turned away and sped up so you could get home quickly. 

-

You stood at the mirror on your door, looking up and down at your outfit. You wore your normal baggy clothes so Ellie wouldn’t get any ideas when you went over to talk to her. You grabbed your coat as you exited the door and headed down the steps. Ellie was just two blocks over but you knew you would be freezing to death before you got there. You shoved the jacket on and started walking down the road, your thoughts running rampant as you figured out what’d you say. You couldn’t stop thinking about the way Ellie looked at Cat as they spoke. The more you thought about it, the more you thought about the way Ellie looked in your eyes as she hovered over you. You got close to Ellie’s home and shook those thoughts away, mumbling a quick prayer to yourself so you would stay strong and stay on track.

You knocked on Ellie’s door and waited for her to open it. You heard shuffling inside and then the knob turned, revealing Ellie in a tank top and jeans. You looked down at her exposed tattoo then back up at her face. She wore a shit-eating grin as she stepped aside to let you in. You brushed past her, throwing yourself on her couch in irritation.

“What’s wrong?” asked Ellie, coming to sit next to you. “Mad that I didn’t say hi earlier? Is that it?”

You scooted away from her and refused to look at her. “No,” you muttered.

“Aw, talk to me, pretty girl.” 

She reached out to grab your thigh but you smacked her hand away. You stood up and towered over Ellie, glaring at her sweet face. “I-I came here originally to tell you that maybe we shouldn’t have sex again!” you declared. Ellie leaned back, an amused look on her face. “I told myself that I would wait for marriage. My virginity was important to me, Ellie.”

“So… you’re upset that you had sex before being married?” questioned Ellie, still looking entertained about what you were saying.

“I was at first! I prayed and cried, begging God to forgive me. Mostly prayed that He’d forgive me for blaspheming Him. But now I feel stupid for losing my virginity to you,” you explained bitterly.

Ellie frowned. “You didn’t enjoy last night?” she asked in a mocking tone.

“You don’t want me. You’re talking to Cat again! And I’m angry that I was a fool to think you really wanted me. You just wanted in my pants so that you could say you made the good Christian girl go back on her morals, made her give herself to you completely! Just another thing to brag to your friends about.”

Ellie broke out into laughter. “This is about me having lunch with Cat?” She almost couldn’t believe it. You were jealous and assuming something was going on between her and Cat all because you saw them two together.

“Well, you’re sleeping with her again aren’t you?”

“No,” Ellie scoffed. “Who put that idea in your head anyway? Dina?”

“When I left the party, what happened?”

Ellie felt like she was being tested. She hated feeling that way. She only fucked you once and you were already testing her as if you two were in a relationship.

“Cat came by and we talked,” Ellie replied honestly.

“Dina said y’all left the party for a couple minutes.”

“Exactly! I wouldn’t even say a couple minutes, it was probably less than a minute.”

“What did she want?”

“Really? Why does it matter?”

“I can’t sleep with you if you’re sleeping with her too,” you said.

“You’re gonna feel really stupid when I tell you why we met up today.”

You groaned, frustrated that Ellie was making you feel this way. You wished you ghosted her instead. If she wanted her ex, fine. But she was an idiot to think she could still fuck you on the side.

“She wanted advice on how to ask out the girl she’s been seeing.”

Ellie watched as your face turned red in embarrassment.

“You feel stupid, huh?” she teased, smirking at your mortified expression.

“Don’t,” you scolded. “Don’t even… don’t go back to that or I’ll leave.”

“I’m not being mean, baby. I’m stating a fact. C’mere… I know you’re sorry. I forgive you.”

You walked over to her, your knees almost touching hers as she sat up and brushed her fingers along your arms.

“I like that you were jealous. I like that you felt dumb for assuming shit. That’s all you are, my dumb puppy,” she spoke in a low raspy voice. She actually didn’t enjoy that you had gotten jealous. All you were to her was a fucktoy. Jealousy ruins her fun. Ellie decided to let it slide for the night, wanting nothing more than to fuck you until all you can say is a string of apologies for thinking bad of her.

You pulled your arms away, sighing at the loss of her touch but wanting to stand your ground.

“I am sorry, Ellie. But it doesn’t change the fact that we shouldn’t have sex anymore. I wanted to wait until marriage and I want to wait until marriage to have sex again. I messed up once and it’s okay but I cannot sin this way again.”

Ellie hummed, her finger lifting up your shirt slightly to stick it in the hem of your jeans. She slid it across your skin, looking up as your breathing got faster.

“But it felt so good to sin, didn’t it, baby?” she cooed.

“I refuse to confess that to you. God has already forgiven me. I mean it.”

“Then make me stop.”

Ellie started to unbutton your pants, sliding them down around your ankles. She chuckled at the sight of your soaked panties. “You want this as much as I do,” she taunted.

You watched as she pulled them back up. “But if you really don’t want to… well, I won’t make you. But it makes me sad. I had so much planned for tonight.”

You fought with yourself internally as a part of you was desperate for her to take them off again and touch you. You hadn’t moved an inch, not even to button your jeans up. They were falling down slowly, too slow for your liking.

You knew it was wrong but decided it would be okay. All of your friends do it and they’re good people. You truly believed that there was no way that they would go to hell for having sex. They were the best friends you ever had. You never judged them for it so why would they judge you?

You hesitated before you spoke up. “W-What did you have planned?”

Ellie smirked devilishly. She knew you’d give in if she made you feel bad about it. While she realized it was wrong, she didn’t care because things were going her way.

“Follow me,” she demanded. She stood up and you walked after her, feeling nervous but in a good way. Ellie stepped inside her room and you admired the walls. There were so many posters and trinkets scattered over her dressers. In one corner of the room, she had a desk with papers all over it and a guitar next to it. Ellie was digging through her closet as you inched closer to read the papers. Before you could pick one up, Ellie dropped something which startled you. You spun around to see her eyeing you closely. She had thrown something back in the closet on purpose to gain your attention. She shook her head no, her eyes squinted into a glare. You backed away from her desk, choosing to sit on the bed instead.

“Atta girl,” Ellie complimented. She made her way over to the bed with a box. She placed it in front of you on the floor and you peeked in, gasping. 

“You’re gonna use all of that on me?”

She chuckled. “No, I want you to pick.”

“To put inside me?”

“For me to wear so I can fuck you properly,” she explained, her voice soft and almost condescending. She knew you had no idea what she meant and how she was going to use it. “Do you see this? It’s a harness,” she continued, holding it up to show you. “I wear it over my boxers and I’ll have whichever one you pick attached to it.”

You looked back in the box and started going through it, picking up different ones and making a face before putting it back in. “These are too big, Ellie,” you admitted. “I think it’ll hurt too much.”

“It’s supposed to hurt the first time, honey. Do you want me to take out the smallest one I have?”

You nodded and slid the box over to her. She reached in and grabbed one, passing it over to you. “It’s five and a half inches long,” she said. “Pretty average. Thick enough but not too thick. Is this okay?”

“It’s okay. Please be gentle, though,” you begged.

“What, you really think I’d be rough on you? I’m not gonna do that until you’re used to it, dummy. I’ll be real slow and gentle until you say otherwise. Although, I’ll probably keep it slow. Not sure if you deserve to be fucked hard. You did come in here accusing me of bullshit earlier.”

You pouted at Ellie, feeling that it was unfair for her to bring it up. Your pout went away though as you watched her take her shirt off. Your eyes followed her hands as she slowly unbuckled her belt and pulled it out of the loops. She shoved her jeans off and stepped out of them. Ellie walked over to you, smirking as you stared at her in awe. “Give it,” she whispered. You handed her the dildo. “Take off your clothes, pup. You wanna be ready for me once this is put together, don’t you?”

You obliged, standing up to discard your clothes as fast as you could. Ellie laughed softly at your desperation. You were completely naked by the time the strap was ready. Ellie stepped closer to you as you pushed yourself further up on the bed. You laid back on the pillow, Ellie now hovering over you. “Such a needy girl,” she murmured. “You’re so desperate for my cock, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Ellie,” you breathed. She looked down at your pussy, gliding her fingers along your thighs.

“I could touch you,” she began. “But do you really deserve that?”

“Y-You bullied me for years, Els, do you deserve to fuck me?” you said slightly above a whisper. You realized what you had said as Ellie’s face twisted into an expression of annoyance. “I-I didn’t mean it-”

“You meant it,” she interrupted. “You want to be a brat now baby? Now you really have to prove how sorry you are.”

“I am sorry!” you whined. You reached up to touch her but she smacked your hand away.

“I’m pissed because I can’t fuck you how I want to. If you continue to act like a brat by the time you’re adjusted to my cock, I’ll fuck the attitude right out of you. I’ll make a mess of you. A braindead little bitch with an aching cunt, crying because I won’t let you cum no matter how much you beg. Got it?”

You nodded, her threats turning you on even more. You liked when she called you a good girl but you also enjoyed the side of her that was angry with you. You couldn’t wait until you got used to getting fucked with a strap so that she could do whatever she wanted with you.

“Use your words,” she demanded.

“I got it, Ellie.”

“Good girl. You want me to continue?”

“Yes please,” you answered.

“God, you’re so beautiful when you’re like this,” said Ellie, going back to being soft and sweet with you. She began to press the tip of her dick to your clit, a soft gasp escaping your lips. “Does that feel good, pup?”

“Mhm!” you moaned in agreement. “S’ good, Ellie!”

“Do you want more or do you want me to put it in?”

“In,” you responded eagerly. 

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“If you need me to stop or go slower or anything like that, tell me,” she said as she lined her cock up with your entrance. “Are you ready?”

You nodded. Ellie leaned closer so that her face was right in front of yours to watch your reaction. She slowly pushed into you, making you yelp in pain.

“Sh, just like that baby,” Ellie whispered in a raspy voice. “It’s okay. You can take it.”

Ellie kept it inside you for a few seconds so you could adjust to the feeling before she started to thrust into you gently. You whined in both pain and pleasure, loving the feeling of Ellie’s strap inside of you.

“Good girl, you’re taking it so well.”

Ellie kissed you softly as you wrapped your arms around her. Your nails dug into her back, scratching her with every thrust. Ellie rolled her hips at a steady pace, talking you through it until you reached down and tugged at her waist.

“You want more baby?”

“Please, go harder.”

Ellie went harder but still kept the slow pace, watching as your eyes squeezed shut from how good it felt. “Fuck,” Ellie moaned, the sound of your wet pussy making her throb. “You feel good, pup? Is your cunt adjusting well to my cock? Hm?”

“Yes,” you whimpered. “I-I want you to go-to go faster, Els. Please!”

Ellie grinned at your pleading and sped up, hitting all the right spots inside of you. You moaned louder, gripping Ellie’s shoulders and crying out her name.

“Yeah? You like that, honey? Tell me how good it feels,” said Ellie between grunts.

“Fuck it feels s-so good! I’m about to cum, please let me cum!” you begged.

“Such a good little slut, asking for permission. Cum for me like the good girl you are, my good girl,” Ellie growled.

She plunged deeper into you and faster, watching your face as you squealed and whined. Your orgasm took over your body, making you scream out Ellie’s name. Ellie slowed down as you trembled beneath her.

“Atta girl,” she praised. 

She pulled out of you and laid back on the bed beside you, turning on her side to watch you catch your breath.

“Was that okay? Did I hurt you?”

You looked over at her and shook your head. “It stung at first but I got used to it. It felt really good,” you uttered between breaths.

“Good, I got a bit too carried away at the end but you seemed to enjoy it.”

You giggled. “Yeah, I did like it when you were rougher.”

“Noted,” Ellie said as she reached over to her drawer, opening it and pulling out an already rolled blunt. She lit it up and offered it to you but you declined.

“I can barely think, Ellie.”

Ellie shrugged and puffed on it, blowing it out away from you. “Suit yourself, doll.”

“Can I ask you something?”

Ellie nodded. “I was wondering… if maybe you could teach me how to touch you?”

“No,” Ellie said almost too quickly. “I can get myself off when you leave. You can stay until I finish this.”

“Oh, I’m not staying the night?”

Ellie shook her head no. You sighed, realizing that you had to walk home with weak legs.

“Why won’t you teach me?” 

“Teach you what?”

“Um, teach me how to touch you? I don’t think it’s fair I cum and you don’t,” you stated.

“I don’t do that unless I’m in a relationship with that person.”

“Well, something will come out of this probably so you might as well show me now!” you said as you laughed. You saw the confused expression Ellie made, your smile faltering. “I mean, it is going to, isn’t it?”

“It’s going to what?”

You sighed in frustration, getting mad that Ellie was playing dumb. You knew her better than that. Ellie was a smart girl but would fight her way out of admitting something she didn’t want to. You raised up and grabbed your clothes, suddenly feeling embarrassed and nauseous. “I feel so stupid,” you whispered to yourself. “I should just go.”

“Hey, I want you to stay until I finish my joint so I can walk you out.”

“Such a gentleman, Ellie,” you spat back sarcastically.

“What was that? Did I not just let you cum on my cock after you insulted me earlier? I wasn’t going to let you but I did out of kindness. You should watch your tone with me, church girl, because I won’t be so nice next time.”

“You’re fucking me but don’t plan on having anything with me at some point?” you asked as you stood up. You tumbled a bit due to how shaky your legs were but you tried your best to not let it show. “You could’ve told me.”

Ellie scoffed. “I’m just havin’ fun. I didn’t realize you would want this to be a relationship.”

“I assumed you knew because of how I am. I’m a Christian who dates to marry,” you argued.

“Right, just like you assumed I was fucking Cat again all because you saw us sitting together. Relax, I don’t know where this will go. I like fucking you and I plan on fucking you as often as I can. Not if you’re gonna let your feelings get in the way, though.”

You rolled your eyes and started to get dressed. Ellie continued to smoke her joint while she observed you. “I already know you’re gonna say this is the last time,” Ellie continued. “But you’ll come back. I know you will. I think you need me.”

“What I need is to go home and sleep. I also need you to leave me alone,” you mumbled.

“When I show up to your door tomorrow night, are you really gonna turn me away?”

“Bye, Ellie,” you said as you started to walk away.

“Wait,” Ellie stood up and put her joint out. She slid out of the harness and threw it on the bed, grabbing her tank top and shoving it on as she chased after you. You were almost at the door when she jogged in front of you, opening it for you. “I’ll see you tomorrow, pup,” she said in a teasing tone.

“Fuck you.”

You walked out, Ellie still at the door to watch you go. “You’re gonna regret that tomorrow!”

[dorotheataylor]

Sneezes with kisses

Pairing- Nanami Kento x Reader

Summary- What’s better than to have your husband take care of you once in a while? Especially when you’re sick.

Warnings- FLUFF OMG, domestic vibes, Kento is such a husband material (omg i love him sm), reader annoys nanami but he’s whipped for her, please I need Nanami in my life😭, my poor english as always :p

Word count- 750+

A/N- OMG I LOVE NANAMI SO MUCH I CANT DESCRIBE IT IN WORDS. Also here’s the fic for Nanami Kento as it got the most votes from the poll I posted monthsss ago (im late as alwayssss). I’m so sorry this is shorttt but I promise to make it up. I got lazy :p. Enjoy the domestic bliss y’all! This is totally not a self-insert fic.

“Love, you need to lay down-”

“No-”

“You need to rest-”

“I’m fine, Ken-” Sneeze!

“See? Listen to me for once in your life and lie down.” Nanami sighed, shaking his head at your stubbornness.

“Fine.” You huffed and laid down on the bed, while Kento arranged the pillows beneath you for you to feel comfortable.

Nanami looked at you for a few moments. You were really stubborn and reckless when it came to your health. After watching you sneezing and almost losing your consciousness because of your fever, he had to practically force you to lie down and get rest. You tended to overwork yourself almost every time, much to his dismay.

“What?” Sneeze. Damn, you really needed to get better soon.

“Nothing, just watching how stubborn you are.” Nanami sighed, his expressions turning soft. “Love, you need to start taking care of yourself.”

“I’m fine, Ken. It’s just a little cold.” You shrugged, before sneezing again.

At this point, Kento Nanami was so done with you downplaying your sickness every time. Kento loved you, he really did, but sometimes your habits and actions made him want to pull out his hair.

Nanami first met you when he was still a grade lower than his current. You had just joined the Jujutsu Society and were paired up with him for your first ever mission. And when you had gotten injured, Nanami was the one who took care of you because he held himself responsible for your injuries. And ever since then, you became good friends and eventually lovers.

You were always the type to get excited over little things and had a loud personality, just like one of your colleagues Satoru Gojo and totally contrast to Nanami's personality. But still somehow you two got along and here you were.

You sneezed again, your face turning a bit red from the cold. "Ugh I hate being sick!"

Nanami sighed again. "That's why you're going to take a few days off and rest. Your body needs it, love. You can't overwork yourself."

You sighed and looked up at him, your expressions softening. "But Ken, I can't just sit at home in the bed while you are out fighting those damn curses." You whined.

Kento rolled his eyes. "Love, sitting at home in the bed for a few days isn't the end of the world."

"But-"

"No buts. You're staying at home for a few days. End of discussion." Nanami said a bit sternly, leaving no space for arguments.

You pouted and Kento could feel himself melting a bit seeing your expressions. He sighed. "Would it make you feel better if I took a day off too? I'll prepare you a nice ginger honey tea and warm bath. How does it sound?"

Your eyes lit up at his words and you immediately smiled, your pouty expressions no longer seen. "I'd love that, Ken. It's been a while since we spent some quality time together."

Kento smiled, something he did only with you around, and leaned down to kiss on your forehead. "Rest. I'll bring you something warm."

As he was about to stand up, you pulled him back down with his arm and kissed him softly, smiling against it. Kento didn't hesitate to kiss back, another one of his favourite things to do with you.

He didn't know how he got so lucky, having such a wonderful woman as his wife, loving him through everything. He didn't deserve you, really.

You pulled away and grinned, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Now we're both sick. Meaning another two days off. And more cuddles! So lay down with me."

Nanami rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smile at you, your cheekiness being one of the many things he loved about you.

He got under the covers beside you, wrapping his arms around you as you rested your head on his chest. He kissed your head before whispering, "I love you."

You smiled, these three words coming from his mouth never failing to make your heart flutter. You looked up at him with that adoring gaze you always had for him and whispered back, "I love you too," before burying your face back into his chest.

And as they lay together, Nanami couldn't help but sigh in contentment. He loved such moments, having the love of his life in his arms and her saying she loved him. He'd do anything just to have this domestic bliss with you.

Maybe you falling sick wasn't so bad after all.

[qtkoshi]

Maybe gn!Reader and Hobie adopt a kitten and the other three (Pavitr, Gwen, and Miles) come to see the kitten? Maybe a orange kitten gn!Reader wanted to name Spunk or Spike while Hobie gave them a spike collar? Would be cute lol

i luv ur brain anon

"you got....a kitten?"

- ok ok idk if this is what u meant, but u can feel free to run this with the bubblegum reader + hobie bc i think it fits alright :-) - also get a little deep with describing relationship,, but it’s necessary for the plot ! (...) - also!!! tysm for the requests; i am very excited to get into them, but will prob wait till tmrw to release bc it is my birthday today <3 much love to you all

──★ ˙ ̟ to the stars ！

general headcannons

alright first of all: hobie with a kitten? i’m in tears. 

i love the hc that hobie has a soft spot for cats and the fact that y’all got one together? bye.

NAPS WITH THE KITTEN JUST NESTLED BETWEEN BOTH OF YOU

this cat is gonna be SPOILED in attention i tell u rn

hobie isn’t as obvious ab it as u, but the amount of times u see him chilling with the cat just perched on his shoulder?? (why are u taking the baby swinging across the city hobie; wait a min now–)

how u got him

imagine this: ur walking past an alley and hear this small little meow; after further investigation you find this tuft of orange fur crying outside the dumpster and

now u gotta take it in what r u talking about!!

bringing him home immediately ; hobie's spidey senses prob picked up the cat's presence before you got in the door.

'baby what's that.' 'c'mon spiderman we got saving to do'

man can't even argue with you

hobie not naming the cat himself bc he doesn’t wanna enforce socio-constructed labels on an unsuspecting creature that can’t consent

u can tho.

and while you very much want to, you tell hobie you gotta think on it for a bit – it has to fit just right!! (tbh he rlly doesn’t mind the cat being nameless, but he’s kinda whipped and will kinda go with what u want if it helps give that pretty lil smile to him again)

spider-squad finding out ab him

the besties r wrapping up something with a fight and hobie’s all k gotta leave and check on the cat and the rest are like ????? 

pav absolutely floored bc how dare did u not mention this sooner hobie

'so you lot wanna come see him?' (inter-dimensional travel ensues) – also never gonna complain ab coming to hobie’s house they all think his place is dope

i’m sure we all know orange cats are fucking crazy and that does not exclude the little gremlin jumping off the walls of your flat rn

hobie ofc is smirking bc his son the cat is a little agent of chaos and he couldn’t be more proud 

you, on the other hand, are just a little tired trying to get the fucker to stay still for a second so u can put on the damn flea medicine

everybody loves him are u kidding (miles a little hesitant tho, he still has beef with the last spiderman-variant cat he met :/ ) 

“so whats its name?” miles was watching with wary eyes as the little ball of fur darted around. with a heavy (and definitely not dramatic) sigh, you walk over to the group “still haven’t picked. we just found him yesterday.”

luv the idea of hobie looking at u anytime ur in the room (stay with me now) — can’t help it u just grab all his attention, maybe stop being so lovely idk

speaking of your relationship: he has spent years battering against everything life throws at him that having your love in the palm of his hands? something to protect not in the way he does as a hero, but in the way to cherish as a person?? give the man a break, he deserves to admire you whenever he can.

anyways hobie’s looking at you before going ‘oh yea’, just grunts and pulls out this little collar with little spikes and their matching and oh my that is so cute

says he found it in some garbage, most def made the collar with some scraps like he did his own (gotta keep it cool yk)

you giddy and putting the collar on the little heathen and just all ‘omg wait a min’

promptly lifting the cat up and “THIS IS SPIKE.”

cue golf claps from the squad with some ooo’s and aah’s

more gen headcannons

remember when hobie and the cat were swinging around the city? yea he's taking that mf everywhere. puts him in his pocket like a little surprise

hobie loves to play fight with the cat

spike is the perfect mix; got hobie’s energy and your brightness it’s a win-win

i could write more but i'll stop here for now 🕸️

⊗

[souperbloom]

hey! i love your ash and luke one shots so i was wondering if maybe we can get a soft dom cal? something like he comes home late from a studio session and you get mad because you had plans for that night, so he begs for forgiveness by eating you out lol

i love your brain anon. this one was fun as hell.

enjoy some soft!dom cal <3 xoxo

————————

apologies. [C.H.]

🎸boyfriend!cal

the ask pretty much told y’all everything you need to know. kissy.

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut!, angst if u squint, oral (f!receiving), dirty talk/praise, squirting.

WORDCOUNT: 3.4k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

"Are you guys fuckin’ coming, or what?"

"Yeah, just— gimme’ another hour. We’ll be there…"

"Swear?"

"Fuckin’ swear, Ang."

You were lying.

You knew damn well you were lying. And so did your best friend, Angie.

Also known as; the one on the phone, that had been pestering you about your plans to go out for the last three hours.

You’d been stalling for a third of that time, which you weren’t proud of. These plans had been made weeks in advance and the only thing stopping you from just getting up and leaving right now was your rather untimely boyfriend.

Calum was the type to let time slip right through his fingers. He was terrible at managing how he spent that time, let alone keeping an eye on the clock. Especially when he was at the studio with the boys.

So you weren’t surprised when he had told you he’d be home to get changed at 10:30— yet now, it was well past midnight.

Letting out a frustrated huff, you toss your phone on the side of the couch. Your long sleeve ‘going out’ top was riding up your back and furthering the anger that was boiling right through you.

"Fuckin’ hell, Cal…" You mumble to yourself, talking into open air with nobody to reprimand, nobody to yell at and let off steam.

You were alone.

The clock on the cable box blinked 12:32. An hour and a half later than the original time of your plans. You were about ready to storm out of your apartment and leave a long, shitty note for Cal to read about just how angry he had made you; but you knew deep down that you’d have a better time with him at your side. You loved him, for fuck’s sake.

Too damn much, sometimes.

Just when you thought a little too hard about putting your shoes on, you hear the familiar sound of keys rattling against the door. It was more frantic than usual; most likely due to the sweaty hands that were manning them.

You snap your head around to watch the door bust open, revealing your panting boyfriend who had probably just run up the five flights of stairs it took to get to your apartment.

He was never a fan of waiting for the elevator.

"Hi, hi, baby— hi— I’m— I’m here, I’m here." An exasperated chuckle laces through your boyfriend’s words as he tried with all of his might to kick the door closed and take his coat off at the same time.

But you just sat there. Your legs crossed, your arms folded— the most scornful, disapproving gaze in your eye.

"You’re late, Cal," you say, disdain rattling off your tongue like a viper.

"I— I know, baby. Fuck, I’m sorry. Lost track of time… fuckin’ around when I shouldn’t have been. But— I’m here now. I’m here."

His words were coming out jumbled and frantic, while still running around like a chicken with its’ head cut off. He had ventured towards the kitchen island, dropping his keys and taking off his beanie that shielded him from the crisp fall winds.

His cheeks were glowing red, still laminated with the sweat it took to get him up five flights of stairs. Yet he hadn’t even made eye contact with you.

"We made these plans weeks ago." You try your best at remaining stern with him, sitting still.

"I know, I know, I know, I know…" Calum was now migrating towards your bedroom, his voice growing faint and trailing off as he exited. You watched the empty hallway; the sounds of rummaging through drawers, opening and slamming them shut was already pissing you off more than you’d like to admit. Your leg was bobbing impatiently now, trying to think of any kind of way to cool yourself off before you burst into flames.

Or, tears.

"Cal—." Your voice cracks slightly, to no response.

"Calum." You try again, a bit louder this time.

His head finally pops around the corner of the door frame. "What?"

"Just—" Your sentence breaks with a sigh, dropping your head into your hand as you pinch the bridge of your nose, "—forget it."

"What?" He steps out into the hallway completely, dropping his hands to his sides.

"Forget it, Cal… I-I don’t even wanna’ go anymore."

The clothes that were once in his hands drop to the hardwood floor as he rushes over to you on the couch.

"Hey,” he tries to console, "don’t say that."

"What’s the point? We’re already two hours late! Angie’s one phone call away from ripping my goddamn head off!" You can’t help but huff, dropping your head into your hands.

"Y/N, I’m really sorry." Calum voice rings soft, and sweet— but there was nothing more that you wanted to do than wring out his fucking neck.

"Just— drop it, Calum. I’m already in a shitty mood."

You hated being so mean.

Each time you yelled at him was like the snapping of one of your heart strings. But despite that tightness in your chest, he needed to know how much this affected you. Whether you liked it or not.

Calum stays quiet for a moment, seemingly nervous to say the wrong thing or misstep. He was always so cautious with you, never picking a fight. Even though you’ve picked many.

"Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?" He asks, squatting down to be level with your sunken face.

"No."

"I could… run you a bath?"

You shake your head. "Nuh uh."

"I could make you dinner?"

"I already ate."

When you peek out from between your fingers, you notice Calum’s lips pushed to the side. He braces his hands on your knees, still crouching and trying to get some sort of read on your face.

He could tell you weren’t happy.

And he fucking hated that.

"Can I see that pretty face?"

That almost got a smile out of you, but you opted just to shake your head.

"I’m not sure how else to say I’m sorry, my girl." His thumb starts a cadence of soothing circles around the outside of your knees.

"Try saying it in French," you mumble, rubbing your tired eyes.

Calum sucks his teeth, "Ouch."

Growing impatient and just about ready for bed, you sit upright. Faced with Calum for the first time since he bust through the door.

His heather green flannel was slouching on his shoulders, looking beat up from the 10 hour day he’d spend working in the studio. His curls hung lowly over his big brown eyes, in desperate need of a trim.

It was taking everything inside of you not to grab his face and tell him how much you loved him, because in spite of all this, you still did.

He was an expert at pissing you off, and it only made you love him more.

"There’s my beautiful girl," he says upon seeing you, smiling meekly, still trying to get your spirits up.

"’Don’t feel it."

"Why not?"

"’Cause you piss me off."

Cal chuckles, squeezing your kneecaps and adjusting his squatted position.

"Can’t really argue with that."

The two of you stare at each other for a moment; the decorative string lights from behind your couch were twinkling in his chocolatey irises, and painting him out to be some sort of angel. His pretty cherub cheeks were still rosy from rushing around and quite frankly, it suited him.

You’ve fallen too damn hard.

"Y’know, I thought of another way to make it up to you."

"Yeah?" You quip, leaning back on the couch cushions.

"Mhm."

His hands were still lingering, moving up to massage your exposed thighs that were now catching a draft from your lack of movement. You had planned to wear this outfit on the day you told Angie you’d be there tonight. So the fact that you were still in it, yet not where you said you’d be, was making your blood boil.

"Gonna buy me back all the time I wasted getting ready for tonight?" You seethe lowly, trying not to sound too bitchy yet coming across as the bitchiest bitch in the world.

Calum frowns, his Doc Martens squeaking against the hardwood floor as he adjusts his posture, "You’re really good at that."

"Good at what?" You muse, chuckling through your nose.

"Firing the shit I pull right back at me. It’s sexy."

"Don’t try to butter me up, Cal. I know I’m sexy. Hence why it took me an hour and a half to get ready."

For some odd reason, your whiny complaints and moody comments towards Calum didn’t seem to be effecting him. They were bouncing off his puffed up chest like he was made of rubber. He was used to your incessant need to be on time, and how he was quite literally your antithesis.

But those witty remarks you kept throwing at him were one of the things he loved most about you. Which is why he kept egging you on.

"I’m really sorry, baby. I’m really sorry I wasted your time."

You try your hardest to bite back a smile, but it doesn’t go over well. "You should be."

Without another word, Calum is dropping down to his knees and suddenly, your heart is racing.

"Can I make it up to you," his hand creeps towards the hemline of your skirt, "like this?"

"I’ll consider it," you nod, trying to seem unbothered by your boyfriend’s large, weathered hands, "But what’s in it for me?"

"Trust me, baby. It’ll be all about you. You won’t have to move a muscle and I swear, on everything I love…"

His fingers stretch across the width of your thighs, prying open your legs with a wicked grin.

"… I’ll have your fuckin’ legs shaking like crazy within the next ten minutes."

Your face flushes, hands subconsciously gripping onto the couch cushions down at your sides at your boyfriend’s promise. He’s still gleaming up at you, waiting for your approval; he’s never the type to handle you without your permission.

"The journey to forgiveness is a long, winding road… But this is definitely a good start, Calum. Well done."

Despite your cool, agile reply, your heart continues to thump out of your ribcage when you see how your unnerving boyfriend reacts to the sound of his own name. He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply with that smile still painted onto his cheeks.

"Keep fuckin’ talking like that. See where you end up."

You scoff playfully, "Is that a threat, Mr. Hood?"

"Not a threat, my girl… It’s a promise."

His hands are dancing dangerously close to your underwear now, having crept up your skirt without you even noticing. But you hadn’t a care in the world. You were merely turned on by the sight of him, so eager to please you. So ready for your forgiveness.

"Fuck, you’re good," you groan, letting a whimper slip past as well, "Show me how sorry you really are, then."

In no time, Calum is leaving a sultry trail of kisses up your thigh. You hiss at the feeling of his cool lips against you; having not felt them since the last time the two of you fucked. Which was about four days ago.

He had been quite busy in the studio with the band’s upcoming album, so times like these were a novelty. Not like you minded much, any quality time spent with Calum was worth a million years.

And besides, he’s damn good at it. Why tamper with an already perfect system?

"I know what I said, but can you do somethin’ for me?" Your boyfriend’s head pops up from beneath your skirt with sparkly eyes.

"Mh, depends." You reply lazily.

"Wanna hear you, baby. Wanna hear that pretty voice."

"That won’t be an issue," you smile, lifting your upper half from the couch, "You may have to earn it though…"

Calum’s eyebrow quirks, looking like he’s just about ready to wipe that catty smile right off of your face.

"Since when are you the one to give orders around here?"

You sit up even further to spit back, "Since you decided to fuck around with your boyfriends and make us miss our fucking plans."

There isn’t even an opportunity for you to say any more, since Calum had decided to grip the backs of your thighs and yank you to the edge of the couch. He lifts your legs, ripping your panties off swiftly and tossing your knees over his shoulders before you can even blink.

You gasp at the sudden dynamic change, shallow breaths barely escaping your throat as your boyfriend is now heaving as well. His once angelic brown eyes had shifted to something darker.

Somebody needed to pinch you. You must be dreaming.

"Watch that mouth," he growls lowly, that soft demeanor of his slightly peeking through his cold exterior, "Not gonna tell you again."

Your face drops, now nodding like a desperate mess.

"I don’t care how sorry I am. Good girls get their way, bad girls don’t. And we both know that, don’t we my baby?"

"Yes— yes sir."

"Gonna be good for me?"

You nod again, fingernails digging into the couch cushions as his apology has not only become something you really really wanted—

It was now something you needed.

"Please, Cal. Promise… Promise I’ll be good for you."

He smiles, and a familiar warmth settles back into the pit of your stomach as he kisses both of your knees.

"That’s my fuckin’ girl."

Sweat begins to pool across your forehead when the first kiss is planted on your inner thigh. You writhe above him, patiently waiting for his mouth to travel down to where you needed it to be.

But patience runs thin in moments like these, especially since Calum was such a fucking tease.

"Cal, baby— please…"

Another couple of kisses later and you’re still feeling unfulfilled. At this point, his head was so far deep into your skirt that you could only see the frosty tips of his unruly curls. He hears your plea, nodding slowly.

"Getting there, pretty. Getting there…"

A shock wave zaps your spine the moment he makes contact with your clit. Your body jolts, feeling the slow rhythm of his tongue toying with your sensitive bud.

"Jesus fuck—" You sigh, trying to fulfill the promise of letting him hear you while simultaneously trying to lasso your head back onto your shoulders.

Calum hums happily, which sends another wave of flutters down your body. You were so damn sensitive, and your boyfriend knew it too. But when his head was between your legs, he never seemed to think, or care about anything else.

He flattens his tongue against your dripping slit, making sure to move slowly and pay attention how long it took him to drag his tongue from one part, to the next. You’re still wriggling around, but Cal’s got his arms locked around your thighs.

You couldn’t pull away even if you wanted to.

"Just— just like that, baby… Keep— keep doing that."

The blood rushes to your head when he finds that particularly sweet spot with the tip of his tongue; he’s moaning, you’re moaning, it was like a symphony of desperate pleas. Your hands fly to meet his head, fingers getting tangled in his chocolatey curls as he starts to use his nose in cohesion with his tongue.

"Fuck me, you’re magic, Cal…"

He hums again. Of course, he agrees. He knows he’s the only one who could ever make you feel this way, and he was damn proud of it.

Apology: accepted.

But you wouldn’t tell him that.

That familiar crash of adrenaline was beginning to wash over you, your stomach began twisting in knots as each tug of Calum’s hair produced more and more pressure onto your pussy. He was chipping away at you, collecting your juices onto his tongue and savoring each and every flavor of you. By the sounds he was making, you could only assume that he was enjoying this just as much as you were.

"Cal, baby… I’m close. Gonna’ cum… gonna’ cum really soon."

You say the magic words. Your lower half was already preforming backflips at only the flick of his tongue, but that euphoria heightened when he took it upon himself to pop his head up and start using his fingers instead.

He dips one finger inside of your dripping heat, his face slicked with your wetness as he finds your eyes for the first time since he started. Your mouth hangs open, trying your hardest to keep the eye contact as he begins to speak.

"Forgive me, baby? I’m really, really, really sorry."

You nod wearily through a breathy moan, attempting to stop your eyes from rolling into the back of your head.

"Y—yes… Yes Cal, I—"

Your sentence is cut short by the feeling of a second finger entering you, curling up to brush against that sweet spot with each new stroke.

"Yes what? You forgive me? Say it like you mean it, my girl… I know you can do it."

His taunting words pull another moan from your throat. He’s still looking at you with hooded eyes, enjoying every second of watching you fall apart. You weren’t sure what had gotten into your sweet boy tonight, but you definitely didn’t mind it.

"Yes. Yes, baby— I— I forgive you," you breathe, that swirling feeling in the pit of your stomach ready to burst, "I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you…"

Calum nods, his teeth sunk deeply into his bottom lip as he watches the obscene ways of your impending orgasm. If he was more honest with himself, your face alone could’ve had him coming on the spot. But he would never admit that. You always came first.

"Yeah? You mean it?" He asks another question. You swore this was some sort of game.

"Yes baby, I— I mean it—!"

Your breathing picks up, Calum’s fingers now moving a bit sloppily, yet keeping that steady rhythm that was driving you up the walls. The pressure building in your lower half was unfamiliar, drawing quick confusion out of you mere seconds before your orgasm.

"Cal, wait— I—"

Alarm bells were blaring in your head, now that Calum had taken his other, freer hand to press his palm flat onto your stomach. He knew what was coming, but you didn’t have a clue.

"Let it go for me, my girl. Let me hear it. Fuckin’ give it t’ me."

Not only does your orgasm rip through your body like a whip cracking down onto pavement, a new sensation was felt the moment Cal told you to let go. A spurt of wetness coats his fingers and the lower half of his face, bringing you to immediately go stark white.

Your chest is heaving, coming down from the high that your boyfriend had just whipped you through. He beat the clock and kept his promise, that’s for damn sure.

"What just— what the fuck. What the fuck, Cal?" You giggle through the comedown, watching Calum triumphantly admire his digits that were now soaked with you. The feeling of you. The taste of you.

"Think you just accepted my apology in more ways than one, baby," your beau chuckles, wiping his face with the back of his fist.

"I can’t believe I just did that," you mumble meekly, now slightly self-conscious as you realized what had just occurred.

Calum scoffs with a shrug, "I can, are you kidding? I knew you had it in you. And all it took was me fucking up to get it out."

"Don’t put it like that," you cringe, scrunching your nose, "Makes it weird."

Calum then begins a slow rhythm of massaging your thighs, something he always does whenever you’re coming down from one of your highs.

"Okay. Won’t make it weird. But let me ask you this— are you still mad?"

You raise your eyebrows, still flustered, watching him lean upward to rest his elbows on your legs. His flannel was in a disarray, as were his curls; you were so wrapped up in admiring him that the thought of anger never even crossed your mind.

"Mad about what?" you ask innocently.

"Mhm," he hums, before leaning in to peck you gently on the lips, "Exactly."

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

[thevampirekeke]

Adrian Chase/Vigilante x goth/spooky reader

Y’all I have no idea what I’m doing and I cannot write but I still hope you enjoy this. I tried including common hobbies I see in the goth community. Im still fairly new to the community myself so please don’t beat me up.

•Adrian has no idea how to be cool around you when he first meets you. Your all black attire and dark makeup has his brain scrambling to find something witty to say to you. He makes it his entire goal to impress you and convince you that he is cool.

•listens to goth music to try and impress you with his diverse music taste. Even goes as far as referencing and humming songs around you. He can’t help but adore the excited gasp you let out everytime.

•when he asks you out he is stood there in his nicest outfit holding a bouquet of black roses with a face skull in the middle “please go out with me” he blurts out obviously nervous a dark blush covering his face. Oh you were going to eat this man up.

•he brings you on a date to a year round haunted house knowing how much you would love it even with it being a bit of a strange first date. He can’t help but heat up every time you jump and cling to him letting out soft giggles at the jump scares.

•when you both start dating Adrian has no clue how he does it. Somehow someway you had fallen for him and he couldn’t be more grateful to whatever found him worthy of this gift.

•the others are just as confused as Adrian, both understanding how someone like him could pull someone like you. But they still are supportive and happy to see the both of you so happy.

•talk about black cat x golden retriever energy, you two are the definition of opposites attract.

•loves the way you leave a black kissy mark whenever you kiss his cheeks or lips. Jokes about you turning him goth everytime you leave black lipstick on his lips.

•is more than happy to sit there and watch horror movies with you all night even though he hates the idea of ghosts. Humans and aliens he can handle but ghosts he draws the line at. But he will deal with the jump scares in order to sit there with you clinging to his side.

•a little skeptical when you admit to him you collect haunted dolls. He doesn’t 100% believe they are haunted but definitely hates the way they all stare at him whenever he is at your house nonetheless.

•doesn’t even hesitate to ask to join when you tell him you are going for a walk in the local cemetery to cool off after a long mission.

•is a bit worried he will stick out like a sore thumb the first time you invite him to the goth club with you. Once he gets there however he throughly enjoys his time, especially as he gets to watch you so effortlessly dance on the dance floor.

•lets you do his makeup one time and finds he doesn’t actually mind it, infact he think he looks badass. He wouldn’t wear it again the several layers of white foundation and black eye makeup being a sensory overload but he did find it enjoyable in that moment.

•lets you dress him up when the two of you go out. Even lets you dress him up when you two meet the other 11th street kids drawing a “what the hell happened to you?” From Chris.

•is kinda terrified of the monster you become when Halloween rolls around. He has never been in and out of stores and spent more money on Halloween decorations in his life.

•when you start slowly moving into his place he watches as his house becomes covered in different spooky and gothic trinkets and decor. Including those damn spooky dolls.

•takes you on dates to different spooky and odd events and places because he knows how much you love going to those type of things

•constantly compares the two of you to different gothic couples. Even begged you to change eachothers contact photos to Morticia and Gomez.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Missing You | Lucien x Reader

Summary: After coming back home from a long trip to Autumn Court due to his emissary duties, Lucien is exhausted, but still more than willing for whatever touch you’ll give him.

Word Count: ~ 1.3k

Warnings: Lucien’s bad relationship w Eris, smut but like…comfort smut? is that a thing? p in v, sub lulu, yknow

Minors, do not interact!

A/N: I have not been feeding y’all good😔 so here’s a lucien fic since we all know he’s the best character in acotar hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

As the somewhat-official emissary of Night Court, there were things Lucien had to handle.

Such as the impossibly long mission he’d been sent on, an excursion to Autumn, to get reassurances that everything was running smoothly with Eris installed as the newest High Lord following a few recent riots and whatnot. The visit had been…awkward, to say the least, considering how Lucien wasn’t the closest with his elder brother.

Things were getting better between them. Slowly, but surely.

As soon as he was back in Velaris, the report he knew he should go give Rhysand be damned, he stumbled to the door of the home you two had, a simple, but warm and cozy one. Fitting for you, he always thought.

It was late then, he could hear the chirping of the nighttime bugs of Velaris, the birds quietly cawing before settling down. The moon was out tonight, in its waning stage. Clouds aimlessly drifted past in the midnight sky, and as soon as he had taken one step through the dod frame, he felt a small warm form collide with his body as you threw your arms around his neck.

“Gods, I missed you.”

You murmured into his ear, and he smiled softly, arms loosely embracing you back. And then he was suddenly all too aware of the grime and sweat soaking him from the journey home, the sleepless nights, and his anxieties.

“I know, love, but I need to take a shower.”

He relied in an almost apologetic tone, giving a small kiss on the forehead to you, before pulling out of the embrace even when you whined and pouted at him.

“Alone?”

You asked, giving him a pleading look. He sighed and nodded. Even after being alone in Autumn for so long, he needed time to decompress in a safe space, which was here. As much as you hated separating from him, you mumbled a little “okay” before he left to enter the bathroom.

*********************************************************

You had seen the exhaustion in his body language, the way his shoulders caved in, weighed down. Or how he hadn’t even noticed the dinner set out on the table, one that you’d specially made for him.

You couldn’t blame him for it, though. He hadn’t known, you told yourself as you slid the food into glass containers for tomorrow, how long you’d spent on it. And you couldn’t bear to be angry at him right now, when he’d been away so long, and had to be around his older brother as well. He’d slowly opened up about the problems between the two of them, the gap that never seemed to fill.

You felt bad for him, truly, but there wasn’t much you could do to comfort him other than give him space and be there when he needed you.

The sounds of the shower started up, water flowing down and hitting the bottom of the tub. Every second of that shower felt like an eternity because even though you knew he needed a little time to himself, you just wanted to hold him impossibly close and feel every inch of him and remember that this was real, that he was here and back.

Still caught up in your thoughts, you put up the now-packaged food and turned the kitchen lights off, walking quietly into your shared bedroom, and slipping your clothes off to don a thin, cotton nightgown. The material was always just lightweight enough to be breathable for your skin.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, before moving under the covers, shuffling around a bit to get comfortable and stretch the tension out of your body.

Not long after, your eyes began feeling heavy as you blinked, and the shower stopped, before Lucien stepped out of the bathroom, a towel hanging loosely around his waist. If the earlier signs that he was tired weren’t enough, the fact that he didn’t even go through with his skincare or haircare routine tonight showed it clearly. He was usually so strict about it, the specific serums and oils, his hair masks and hydration, honestly sometimes it seemed more like he was speaking a different language when he tried to explain it.

But you liked hearing him talk about things he was invested in.

“Luci..”

You mumbled, sitting up slowly and rubbing your eyes. He only barely pulled some boxers on before collapsing into the bed beside you, one arm trying to pull you close. He sighed deeply, inhaling as much of your scent as he could when you moved closer.

“Missed this,”

He mumbled, looking like he was in a daze. Your hands began gently roaming his skin, beginning with his shoulders, rubbing the tension out of them as best as you could. The angle you were at currently wasn’t too great for it, though, so you shifted to where you were almost straddling him, your body lying above his limp one.

“Careful, I’m-“

The words died in his throat as he let out a breathy groan when you hit a particularly stiff spot. You leaned down slightly, letting your lips brush against his jaw, before starting a light trail down his golden-tanned skin. Every little inch of him received your kisses, his biceps, his abdomen, his legs, face, then you were at his inner thigh, gently rubbing the skin as his breathing turned to little pants.

You hooked a finger on the edge of his boxers, slowly tugging them down as you continued your exploration, all the way down to his cock. It was half-hard, and every tiny movement you made anywhere near it made it twitch. Your tongue darted out to give a little lick, at which Lucien whimpered, and then it was throbbing. Your hand snuck up your nightgown, pushing your panties aside as you began slipping fingers in, stretching and rubbing.

“Lulu,”

You cooed softly, a nickname you’d made for him long ago, and even to this day you swore the tips of his ears turned a light shade of pink when you used it. He sniffled, looking down at you with what almost looked like a pout. Sure, you’d seen him submissive before, but never just so utterly defeated and whiny.

“Please.”

He whispered, hips trying and failing to buck up, his body failing him. You gave a little lick again to his length, before you let your fingers slip out of you, and slid up a bit against his body. As soon as he saw your glistening fingers, his mouth was open and inviting, and you didn’t deny him any longer, letting his deft tongue lick and suck the slick from your fingers. His eyes rolled back in his head, growing slightly glazed over with lust.

You shifted a bit more, pulling your fingers away, only to gently wrap that hand around his dick, managing to pull a light gasp out of him from it, as you slowly sunk onto him. He whimpered and groaned, body near trembling as you suffered the slightly painful stretch.

When he was finally, finally all the way in, you let out a ragged sigh of relief, leaning down to lay against his chest, arms folding easily around him. He buried his face in the nook of your shoulder, hips barely able to move other than the tiniest bit of rocking back and forth. It was barely perceptible, but more than enough for the both of you.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you remained like that, hips barely rocking back and forth until you came undone around him with little more than a moan, and he spilled into you with a whimper. Tonight wasn’t the night for hard, demanding sex. Sometimes you both just needed something comfortable and soothing, while both were able to feel each other.

He eventually drifted off to sleep, breathing and falling into a deep rhythm, and you were soon to join him.

[cumironi]

YUMMMMM.ᐟ

suguru geto. your older stepbrother who turns your life upside down when the second he returns to your hometown, living near you again after all these years living in Tokyo. You used to have a crush on him when you were little. His tall figure, jet-black long hair, sharp purple eyes, muscle, and everything, he's perfect. When you hit puberty you sometimes wonder how it feels like to get fucked by him, and the day you turn 25, the wish suddenly comes true.

beware. OOC!Suguru Geto, stepbrother!Suguru, hair-pulling, anal, aged up Suguru, name-calling, dirty talk, suggestive convertation.

⠀⠀ ⠀My social life has taken a beating since my stepbrother, Suguru Geto, returned to town. Sure, when I was sixteen and he was nineteen and just heading off to college, it was totally cool to hang with him. Not that we had much in common, but still. Now, inching close to 25, it’s not nearly as fun anymore. After graduation, he moved off to Tokyo, while I stuck around Kyoto. And so, we haven’t exactly spent a lot of time together…for quite a while. But now, he’s back. For good, he says.

⠀⠀ ⠀And he’s totally cramping my style.

⠀⠀ ⠀Oh, don’t get me wrong. Suguru is one fine ass boy, no doubt. He’s big, over six feet tall, and built like a tank...all muscle, without an ounce of fat on him. Add in the pretty boy's smile, pale skin, shining bright purple eyes… and he’s the boy next door that my friends drool over whenever he interrupts our girls’ night out. Sadly, he’s also a stepbrother who doesn’t want his stepsister getting it on with anyone. Ever.

⠀⠀ ⠀He’s never said the words, but he seems to make damn sure he stands close to me in the clubs, hovering over me, watching me like a hawk. While my girls are off getting their freak on, I’m chatting it up with Suguru.

⠀⠀ ⠀Much like tonight.

⠀⠀ ⠀It’s my 25th birthday. Yup. Big. Two. Five.

⠀⠀ ⠀Maki and Nobara are on the dance floor, their boyfriends grinding against their asses while they move to the beat. And damn, their men are fine, all muscles and covered in smooth skin.

⠀⠀ ⠀That is what I need.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Y/n? Are you listening to me?”

⠀⠀ ⠀Suguru’s lips brush my ear and I fight against the shiver that races down my spine. I turn to him with a wide smile, bite back my irritation. He’s sweet. A very, very sweet temptation. I could gladly gorge myself on his brand of sugar, with hopefully, a hint of spice. And I don’t want a damn bit of nice. I turn my head to the side and yell so he can hear me. “Of course I’m listening. You were just saying that you were gonna get me another margarita.”

⠀⠀ ⠀I press a smacking kiss to his cheek, leaving a nice smear of lipstick behind. When I pull back to smile at him, he just rolls his eyes and screams back to me. “Last one.” I nod. Always the ever-dutiful, little stepsister. “I mean it!” He points a finger at me, scowl in place.

⠀⠀ ⠀Later, I’ll blame it on the alcohol. Now, I blame it on his hotness. I lean forward and swallow his finger, run my tongue along the digit suckle it, and slide along the length until he slips free of my mouth. I nip the tip, scrape my teeth over the pad, and then give it a chaste kiss before I lean back. “Thank you, Suguru.”

⠀⠀ ⠀He looks shell-shocked, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing like a fish. An adorable, totally fuckable, boy fish. He gives himself a full body shake and then rises from his stool, looking at me like I’ve got two fucking heads.

⠀⠀ ⠀I don’t.

⠀⠀ ⠀But he does.

⠀⠀ ⠀One upper and one lower… Yum. Lower.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Y/n!” A hand slaps my bare shoulder and I turn to find Maki and Nobara standing nearby, both wearing their “I’m totally about to ditch you so I can get freaky with my man” smiles. “Bitch” Straight up. “Both of y’all are bitch.”

⠀⠀ ⠀Maki leans forward first, pulling me into a hug. “Suguru can take you home, right?” I release her with a roll of my eyes and give Nobara a quick kiss on the cheek. “Yes, Suguru can take me home. Did I mention y’all were a bitch?”

⠀⠀ ⠀“You’re just a jealous bitch.”

⠀⠀ ⠀I raise my eyebrows. “And?”

⠀⠀ ⠀It’s the same old thing. They go home with their men and I go home with...no one. Except Suguru. Who I can’t have. I wave the two couples off and watch out for my brother, his ass weaving through the crowd toward me, my drink in his hand. Damn, we’d look so gorgeous together. I smile to myself only thinking about it.

⠀⠀ ⠀He slides onto the stool and sets my drink before me. The lovely, green light blinds me, I wrap my hand around the cool, sweating glass and bring it to my lips. Focusing on Suguru, I lap at the stand and, run my tongue along the rim a moment before I take a sip of the tart beverage. His attention’s all over me, eating me up with his eyes, mouth slightly parted, and staring at me like he’s a starving man…and I’m having dinner.

⠀⠀ ⠀Yum.

⠀⠀ ⠀Placing my drink on the table, I lean forward and brace myself with a hand on his thigh, squeeze the muscle that flexes beneath my palm before venturing farther north, then brush against his groin with my fingertips. “Y/n…” I hear the warning in his voice and I don’t care. I’ve wanted him for far too long. Worst-case scenario? He gets pissed, and stops tagging the fuck along. Score for me! ‘Cause that means he can’t rain on my “please dear God let me get laid” parade any longer. A large hand encircles my wrist, keeps me from moving. I stick out my lower lip and pout. “Suguru…”

⠀⠀ ⠀“You’re drunk.”

⠀⠀ ⠀I roll my eyes. “No, I’m not. I’m horny, I’ve been attracted to you for forever, and I want to get fucked for my birthday.” I yank free of his hold and snag my purse from the tabletop before sliding from the stool. A quick tug on my tight miniskirt puts things back where they belong, and then I focus again on my stepbrother. “Since it’s obvious you’re not up,” I flick a glance at his groin to make sure he gets the innuendo, “for the challenge, I’ll go home and take care of things myself. Or grab a man on my way out the door.” I step close to him. “Maybe this boy is too intimidated to give a sista a good time. Maybe there’s someone here who can give me what I need.”

⠀⠀ ⠀I spin on my heel and weave my way toward the door, surveying my options. Oh, I get plenty of looks. With my smooth skin, beautiful feature, and a curvaceous body to boot, I’m a catch for any man. I’ve got great tits, and also a big booty that men love to grab onto when they fuck me from behind.

⠀⠀ ⠀Hell, as horny as I am right now, I’d take just about any man who knows what to do with his cock—no matter how old or who he was. Then, I see a man that just may do, and drag one of my fingernails along his arm as I pass, give him a wink that has him turning toward me and stepping in my direction. Only to be brought up short by Suguru.

⠀⠀ ⠀Mother. Fucker.

⠀⠀ ⠀Okay, he’s not really. But I wouldn’t terribly mind him being a sister fucker right about now. I don’t hear what he says, but the guy I’d set my sights on returns to his friends while Suguru continues to come after me. I roll my eyes and get back on my way. In a handful of steps, I’m out of the stifling, cloying air of the club and into the cool night.

⠀⠀ ⠀A body presses into me from behind, a large erection grinding into my ass, and the scent I’d recognize anywhere surrounds me. “You’re a cock-tease, Y/n.” Hands appear on my hips, flex, and then tighten their grip while he rubs his dick along my crack. “Teasers get punished, even if she happens to be my sister. You’ve pushed me too far—and now you’re going to get what you’re asking for.” Suguru nuzzles my neck, teeth scrape my skin, and then his lips nibble my earlobe. “You ready for that? Ready for your brother to fill your pussy with his big cock? Pull your hair? Spank this beautiful, ass for being a bad girl?”

⠀⠀ ⠀I’m aching and hot and wet as fuck. Like cream will be sliding down my thighs at any moment wet. My nipples had hardened with the cool air, but now they’re rock-fucking-hard for an entirely different reason. I don’t want to answer him, afraid of him turning away, but I can’t keep quiet. “Yes.” I moan when one hand snakes around me, then slide down my stomach to rest right above my needy mound. “Fuck me. Yes, I’m ready.”

⠀⠀ ⠀“Oh, baby, I will.” He releases me for a split second and snags my hand, twines my fingers with his, and tugs me into the parking lot. “But no bitching when I mess up your hair.” My hair. Lord, how many arguments have we gotten into over my hair. He’s fascinated with all the different looks I’ve had over the years, getting it done just about every weekend. And he always has to play with it.

⠀⠀ ⠀No one touches a woman’s hair. We spend way too much time and money for someone to just fuck it up. At the car, I finally answer him, hand on his crotch, stroking his bulge. “Oh, Suguru, you fuck me right, and you can do anything you want.” I nibble his lower lip and then slide into his SUV, leaving him there to glare at me for a moment while he adjusts his hard cock. Then, he moves around the vehicle to settle behind the steering wheel.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Not another word, Y/n.”

⠀⠀ ⠀With a lick of my lips, I eye his cock, but remain quiet throughout the drive. Suguru navigates the streets of downtown Kyoto with ease, and it’s not long before we’re pulling up in front of his house, a sprawling, ranch-style home with more space than he could ever need. I wait while he climbs from the SUV and comes around to hold the door open for me. I keep my mouth shut, smile in place as I follow him up the walk. I watch the shift of his ass in his slacks and I just want to taste it, sink my teeth in, and take a bite out of his cute little butt.

⠀⠀ ⠀Yeah, I’ve got a bit of an ass fetish.

⠀⠀ ⠀Actually, I think it’s more of a “Suguru” fetish.

⠀⠀ ⠀A quick walk up the path and we’re inside within moments, the interior wrapping us in darkness. Then, Suguru’s wrapping me in him. The door closes with a soft click, and just like that, my back’s slammed against the solid wood surface, while my brother presses against me from the front. Before I can blink, he has my wrists pinned above my head, leaving me at his mercy.

⠀⠀ ⠀Fuck, I like being at his mercy.

⠀⠀ ⠀His face is right there, less than an inch from mine, lips merely a stretch away…and I ache to kiss him. Suguru flexes his hips, his cock growing harder with each passing second it’s pushed against me. I wiggle in response, pussy needy and hurting, begging to be filled. I know my panties are soaked, and soon, the cream will be coating my upper thighs, the thong not much protection against my arousal.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Suguru…” I want him. Damn, I want this man. Want him to fuck me, make me come, make me scream his name while he pulls my hair and pounds his big dick into me. My pussy, my ass, my mouth. His cock. Never had an older boy, but damn, it just adds a bit more of the forbidden to this, this thing between sister and brother. Then there’s the fact that my brother has me pinned…

⠀⠀ ⠀I’m hot, horny, needy and so fucking ready to come.

⠀⠀ ⠀He moans and closes the distance left between us, lips on mine, tongue delving into my mouth and sweeping through, tasting me like I’m tasting him. A hint of scotch explodes over my taste buds as I stroke and tease him, search out his natural flavor while I suck on his tongue, all the while showing him just how well I can treat him.

⠀⠀ ⠀Suguru rocks his hips against me, and I bring my leg up to go around his waist, dig my heel into his ass, open my thighs to him so he can rub precisely where I ache. He transfers his hold on my wrists to one hand, and then he’s gripping my knee, holding me in place, thick cock teasing my pussy.

⠀⠀ ⠀He breaks the kiss for a moment. “Wrap your legs around me.”

⠀⠀ ⠀“Oh, Suguru.” I do as he asks, ankles locked around his waist to hold them in place, then he releases my arms and knee to grip my ass with his large hands. “That’s it baby.” I’m being held up by his hands cupping my butt cheeks and the door against my back, with his bulge giving me the friction I need. My pussy’s clenching on air, my slutty cunt’s looking to be filled, more than ready for his big dick. Each flex of his hips sends another frisson of arousal down my spine. “Suguru. So good.”

⠀⠀ ⠀He kneads my ass, fingers flexing and squeezing. I want him in me, coming and making me come, filling me up with his hot load. “Like that? Like your brother rubbing your pussy with his dick? You always used to tease me, Y/n. Talk about how boys don’t know how to fuck a woman. You want it, don’t you? Want this fat cock.”

⠀⠀ ⠀“Yes, Suguru, I do. Please…” He presses harder and I gasp, roll my head against the cold surface of the door, so eager to get fucked by my brother. “Come on, sis. Let me give you what you need.” All at once, the security of the door leaves me and I’m clinging to Suguru like a scared child, arms around his shoulders and a scream in my throat. “I got you, Y/n. Not going to let anything happen to you.”

⠀⠀ ⠀I know what I am, and thin isn’t it. I’m thick. Real thick in a lot of places, and definitely not light. But Suguru’s carrying me like I weigh nothing. Feeling a little more secure, I turn my attention to keeping his motor running, licking and nibbling his neck, kissing just below his ear, and reveling in the moans that I get in return.

⠀⠀ ⠀Before I know it, I’m flying through the air, landing on his big bed with a bounce, a laugh on my lips, my need for him to fill me still unwavering. I’m staring at him, his broad shoulders, heaving chest, the huge bulge in his pants. I want it. Want to taste him. To suck him. “Next time, baby. You touch me and I’ll explode. I just want to eat that chocolate pussy until you scream, and then fuck you dry.”

⠀⠀ ⠀“Fuck, Suguru…” I whimper, squirming, rubbing my thighs together to try and alleviate some of the ache. He tears his shirt off, showing me all of his muscles, his six-pack abs, and those cute little lines at his hips. Now there, I wanna lick. Love those. Wanna nibble and see if they’re as big a turn-on for him as they are for me.

⠀⠀ ⠀His pants are next, practically torn from his body. Big bro’s gone commando, showing me his large, cock in an instant. Damn the boy’s hung. Long and thick and all for me. The head’s an angry red, like it’s dying to slam into me. Fuck yeah.

⠀⠀ ⠀I open my legs, tiny skirt sliding to my waist with ease while I show him my G-string clad pussy. I take one hand and slide a finger along the wet fabric, shudder at the pleasure that shoots through me. “What’re you waiting for then? Come eat my pussy.” Suguru kneels on the bed and moves between my legs, stroking that big dick while he watches me rub myself. “Fuck yeah, look at how wet you are. All that cream for me, baby? Are you wet for me?”

⠀⠀ ⠀He brushes my hand aside, mimics my moves, and touches me like I’ve wanted to be touched for so long. I lean back on my elbows and, drop my head back, fully enjoying his caresses and moaning each time he skims my clit. “Yes, all for you. Yours.” I’m panting, but I whimper when he pulls his hand away, then gasp when my G-string suddenly disappears with a quick tug on the fabric, leaving my cunt exposed to the cool air.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Look at all that cream.” He smiles at me before he shifts his position, bends down, and rubs his rough cheek against my inner thigh. “Smells so good. So hot for me. You want me to lick this pussy, Y/n? Want your brother to make you scream?”

⠀⠀ ⠀His heated breath fans over my wet lower lips. “Please… Eat me, Suguru. Then I want that fat cock to fuck me.” I watch while he slips his tongue out and laps at my slit, tip skating over my needy flesh, a moan forming deep in my chest.

⠀⠀ ⠀“You taste so sweet, baby.”

⠀⠀ ⠀He dives back in, separates my nether lips, fingers holding me open while he licks me from entrance to clit and back again. He circles my opening, teasing those sensitive nerves, leaving me panting. Suguru travels up to my exposed button, flick, flick, flicking the nub, shots of pleasure zipping through me, lightning singeing each of my nerve endings as my muscles spasm in response.

⠀⠀ ⠀I try to hold back, but I can’t. I drop my weight to the mattress and fist his hair, flex my fingers and dig my nails into his scalp. “Fuck yes, give it to me.” He moans against my heat and a finger slides into my pussy, stroking my walls a few times before he fills me with two. “That’s it. Fuck me with your fingers. Make me come.”

⠀⠀ ⠀Suguru sucks on my clit, digits stroking in time with the movements of his mouth, the squishing sounds of him moving in and out of me mingling nicely with my harsh breathing. He strokes that neglected place inside me, rubbing against my G-spot with every thrust and retreat. I move one of my hands from his head and tug my top aside to reveal my breasts. I pinch my chocolate brown nipple and pull on the hard nub. I rock my hips, move with him, whisper and whimper while he works over my spasming pussy.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Yes…there…please…lick that pussy.” He moans, sucks harder, shoves three fingers into my cunt, and a pinch of pain joins my pleasure. Ecstasy’s gathering, slithering through me, connecting all of the nerves in my body and forcing my muscles to twitch. My orgasm’s inching closer, growing bigger and bigger, gathering speed and intensity with each passing second.

⠀⠀ ⠀“That cunt taste good? You like licking your sister’s pussy?” Fuck. That nasty talk sends a tremor of pleasure down my spine, forcing my back to arch, a scream from my throat. This is my brother, Suguru… My new lover.

⠀⠀ ⠀He pulls his mouth away, but replaces his tongue with the thumb of his other hand, presses and circles my throbbing clit while he keeps pumping his digits in and out of me. “Come on my hand, baby. You taste so fucking good. Bet you’ll feel better when you let go. Come on my hand and I’ll give you my fat cock.”

⠀⠀ ⠀“Yes, yes, yes…”

⠀⠀ ⠀I’m so close, so damned close. It’s right there, within reach, and I want it more than my next breath. I release his hair completely and pinch the nipple on my other breast, add more pain to the pleasure.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Do it, Y/n. Gimme your cum.”

⠀⠀ ⠀“Fuckfuckfuck...”

⠀⠀ ⠀It’s on me now, filling me and sending me flying high, fireworks forming behind my eyelids while I scream Suguru’s name and come all of his fingers like he asked. I can’t breathe. Can’t think. I’m a ball of pure pleasure and I love every second of it, the bliss my brother has given me pours through my veins, sending me higher and higher with each thrust of his hand.

⠀⠀ ⠀Trembling, breathing heavy and urging him on, I gasp when he crawls up me, thrusts that thick dick into my sopping wet pussy, stretching me even more.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Suguru!”

⠀⠀ ⠀“Fuck yeah. Take your brother’s cock.” He pulls out and slams in again, jarring us both, sending the bed banging against the wall. “Take it all.” I arch and flex against him, meet his thrusts, wrap my arms around him and pull him closer to me. His dick hits even more of those hidden places in my cunt, the head of his prick stroking and teasing me.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Give it to me. Want it all.”

⠀⠀ ⠀He growls and pushes all the way into me, holds his hips against mine and grinds, tiny circles that press his pubic bone against my sensitive clit. “You’re such a dirty little slut. Getting fucked by your brother. Taking this cock.”

⠀⠀ ⠀“More!” I plant my heels on the mattress, try to buck and force him to move.

⠀⠀ ⠀He keeps up the small movements. “Beg me.”

⠀⠀ ⠀“Please. Please, Suguru, fuck me. Give me your big dick. Fuck me hard. Make me scream.” I’m breathless, needy and wanting and ready to do just about anything he asks. Suguru withdraws and then shoves forward again, my tits bouncing with the thrust, bed banging as a scream of pleasure gathers in my throat.

⠀⠀ ⠀It’s so good. My cunt’s still spasming and squeezing his cock with every entrance. Again and again he pushes into my tight, wet heat. I scratch his back, dig in my nails, love the way pleasure and pain dance across his features. He’s loving this as much as I am…and I revel in the fact I’m able to give this to him.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Harder. More.” I’m demanding, but I don’t care. I want this. Want him so badly.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Fucking slut, aren’t you?”

⠀⠀ ⠀“For you.” Only for him. Yeah, I’ve had plenty of sex, but I’ve never been this hot or this needy. “That’s right. This is my pussy.” He withdraws and shoves forward, pistoning like a fucking jackhammer.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Mine, mine, mine…”

⠀⠀ ⠀“Yes!”

⠀⠀ ⠀He’s pounding me hard. And the rhythmic slam, slam, slam of the bed makes me happy he lives in a house and not in an apartment. I meet each thrust, our skin slapping together, bodies colliding as pleasure rises with each passing moment. I’m so close to coming, shattering around him. My pussy’s milking him, orgasm approaching once again.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Gonna come, Suguru. Come on your dick.”

⠀⠀ ⠀“Do it. Come on, baby. Give it to your brother like the slut you are.”

⠀⠀ ⠀Fuckfuckfuck…

⠀⠀ ⠀‘Cause it’s there, pouring through me and slamming headlong into my pussy. I tighten my hold, back arched and yelling, but I’m not too sure what—‘cause the pleasure is simply…overwhelming. I’m sobbing, clawing, pulling him closer, but he keeps up his bruising thrusts, keeps drawing out the ecstasy…on and on and on. Dear god, help me.

⠀⠀ ⠀He growls and yanks my arms from around him, flips me over, and then fills me once again. I’m on my hands and knees before him, Suguru holding my hips with a bruising grip, yanking me back and forth over his dick. The slapping sounds from our bodies colliding echoes in the room, while his balls hitting my clit with each of his thrusts sends me flying high once again. It’s so good. So hot. So fucking unbelievable. One of his hands moves to my shoulder as the other grips and fists my hair.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Fuck yeah, Suguru. Give it to me hard.”

⠀⠀ ⠀Then it begins in earnest. Suguru yanks me against each of his thrusts, the sting of him tugging my hair working through me and joining in on the pleasure. My pussy’s creaming while more and more of my arousal slides down my thighs, coating the two of us. Sweat covers my back with Suguru’s mingling with mine. I love being this close to him. I’ve waited so fucking long for this.

⠀⠀ ⠀He keeps up the pace. More, I want so much more…

⠀⠀ ⠀I palm one of my breasts, tug on my nipple, moan and groan while he works me over, takes pleasure from my body, gives back just as much. “Like that? Take my fat dick, Y/n.” He’s breathing heavy, panting.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Such a sweet pussy.”

⠀⠀ ⠀“Yes…” I hiss, his grip tightening.

⠀⠀ ⠀“You’re gonna come one more time. One more, baby. And then I’m gonna fuck this sweet ass of yours.” My pussy tightens, anxious and ready. “Anyone taken your ass, baby? Fucked this dark hole? It wants me, wants me to shove my dick in there.”

⠀⠀ ⠀“No, no one.”

⠀⠀ ⠀He releases my hair, grabs one cheek, his thumb sliding along the crease. “Gonna take your cherry then, baby.”

⠀⠀ ⠀“Yes…” I want it, want my brother to take it. This is the hottest fuck I’ve ever had. It’s hard and rough and he’s my brother with a cock that doesn’t seem to quit. The hand on my ass moves to between my thighs, finds my throbbing clit, and he rubs the nub, quick and dirty like his fucking.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Fuck…yeah…gonna…” ‘Cause I am. I’m gonna come all over his cock, squeeze and milk him while pleasure takes over every inch of me. I scream and yell, claw the sheets while my veins spark and burn, fire dancing along every single nerve in my body. Muscles spasm and tighten, toes curl in my shoes. Hell no. I’m not letting this boy go anytime soon. Not if he fucks me this good. And I come again, third time’s the charm, absolute bliss exploding in each and every one of my cells while he keeps it up, continues to give me pleasure while wave after wave of ecstasy takes me higher.

⠀⠀ ⠀Fuck, it’s so good, so hot…scorching me from the inside out and back again.

⠀⠀ ⠀This time, Suguru lets me calm a little before he pulls out, hands on my ass, separating the cheeks and exposing me fully. I’ve never trusted anyone enough to let them in the “back door,” but this is Suguru…and I know he’d never do anything to hurt me.

⠀⠀ ⠀His fingers play over my aroused flesh, dip to my pussy, and then ghost over my asshole, teasing me, and I shiver at the contact, the strange sensation I feel. “Shh…nice and easy, baby. Reach into that drawer over there and grab the lube.” With a stretch, I do as he asks, snag the bottle of clear liquid, and then hold it out for him. I get a wink from Suguru before I turn back around, lower my chest to the mattress and just relax, take what he’s about to give me.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Such a pretty little asshole.” A cool finger teases the entrance and another shudder overtakes me. “It’s just begging for my cock, baby.” Then, that finger slides in easy, not a hint of pain, and the first stirrings of pleasure start throbbing in time with my heart.

⠀⠀ ⠀I moan and push back against the intrusion. It’s strange, but so good.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Want more, Y/n?”

⠀⠀ ⠀“Please…” I whimper. He gives me what I beg for, eases another finger into my asshole, and still, no pain—just unimaginable pleasure. He thrusts in and out of me, fingers scissoring and stretching my virgin hole, prepping me to take that fat cock of his. “Suguru…” I whine, ready for more.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Such a needy slut.” He doesn’t sound too upset by the idea, and gives me another finger. This time, I feel the pinch of pain and I gasp, then my body stills for a moment. “Easy, baby. Breathe through it. It’s gonna feel so good, just give it a minute.” He strokes my back, hand sliding along my spine while he gently slides in and out of my asshole, getting me ready to get fucked back there.

⠀⠀ ⠀And he’s right. I am needy. In moments, I’m panting again, just waiting for him to plow into me with his dick. “Suguru, give it to me. Fuck me. Fill me with your cum already.”

⠀⠀ ⠀“What a naughty girl.”

⠀⠀ ⠀Hearing the laugh in his voice, I look over my shoulder. “Only for you.” He just barks out another laugh, and then those sweet fingers disappear, only to be replaced with the head of his cock kissing my asshole. “Nice and easy, Y/n. Push out a little while I push in. Then, I promise you’re going to feel so good, baby.”

⠀⠀ ⠀I force myself to relax, put my trust in Suguru and do as he asks. Inch by stretching inch, I accept his dick, body parting for him, his cock stroking unknown nerves and pleasure points. He feeds me his prick. And as seconds slip away, before I know it, he’s thrusting into my asshole, spearing me with his hard shaft.

⠀⠀ ⠀Losing track of time, I refocus as his hips rest against mine, balls brushing my pussy. Suguru strokes my back, fingers dancing over my skin, touching and caressing me so tenderly. He teases my ass, fingers playing along my hole where he’s penetrating me.

⠀⠀ ⠀“You should see this. So sweet, so pretty. Your asshole’s just sucking me in and keeping me hot.” He pulls out a little and then eases back into me, yanking a gasp and moan from deep in my chest. “That’s it, baby, nice and easy.”

⠀⠀ ⠀He does it again, retreat and advance, breaks me apart. I’m so full, I think I’m gonna burst, blow up and burn in a fire that’s threatening to consume me.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Fuck, Suguru.”

⠀⠀ ⠀“Like that?” I can hear the smile in his voice.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Hell yeah. Do me harder, please..”

⠀⠀ ⠀“Shit, baby.” He groans, but listens, pulls out and pushes in with more force, gives and takes with increased passion. “Sweetest, tight little ass.”

⠀⠀ ⠀“Pound me with that big dick, brother. Show me what a good fuck you are.”

⠀⠀ ⠀“Such a slut.” There’s still no malice, just arousal tingeing his voice, and he gives me what I long for. It’s like the chains he’s had on himself melt away. Suguru withdraws and then shoves forward, hard enough for the bed to pick up its banging, his balls smacking my pussy and sending light tingles along my spine. The scent of our sex surrounds us, the musk filling the air, permeating our pores.

⠀⠀ ⠀On and on he goes, in and out, in and out, slap, slap, slap…

⠀⠀ ⠀I never knew. Never knew that anal sex could feel so good, so right, and make me come. It’s right there, close enough to reach out and grab. I’m full and stuffed and stretched, the pinch melding with the pleasure until I’m a glowing balloon of ecstasy, growing larger with every passing second. My breathing’s labored, even harder than before. I’m exhausted, fucked-tired, and just ready to come so I can pass the fuck out. Suguru can keep going for all I care, but I just need to rest for a minute.

⠀⠀ ⠀“You gonna come, baby? Your ass is begging for it, milking my dick.”

⠀⠀ ⠀“Mmm-hmm…” I can’t really talk. I can mumble a little, though. ‘Cause I want it, want him to paint me from the inside out. He slaps my ass, waking me up in an instant, sending a lightning bolt of pleasure through me. “Fuck me.”

⠀⠀ ⠀“That’s what I’m doing, baby.” He spanks me again, harder this time, the burn shoving my orgasm closer.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Suguru!”

⠀⠀ ⠀“Oh, yeah, you like that.” I can feel his smug attitude radiating from behind me, and he deserves every bit of those feelings because he’s right.

⠀⠀ ⠀Actually, he’s wrong. I don’t just like it—I fucking love it.

⠀⠀ ⠀Another smack, another jolt. Again and again, in time with his strokes, shoving in and yanking out of my asshole while he spanks my cheeks. I feel the heat and pain mingling in the pleasure his fucking’s creating, rolling together and creating a wave of undeniable ecstasy. It’s growing and growing larger by the second until I’m filled with it. Every nook and cranny inside my body is consumed by the sensation he’s creating.

⠀⠀ ⠀He fucks me harder, deeper, banging into me, our breathing growing heavier, mixing with the sounds of our bodies meeting and the bed hitting the wall with each of his powerful thrusts.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Come in me, Suguru. Do it. Fill me with your cum.” I moan and groan, gasp when he hits me once again. Shit. Right there, oh, yeah…that sends me over the edge, sends me flying high and screaming his name while my pussy and ass clamp down, milk and spasm. God, what I wouldn’t give to have my pussy filled at the same time. “Yes, god, yes…”

⠀⠀ ⠀“Fuck, Y/n. Baby…”

⠀⠀ ⠀He’s jerking against me, fingers digging into my hips, probably leaving bruises behind, but I don’t mind. His cock’s growing thicker inside me, jerking, and then the splash of his hot cum is hitting my inner walls, spurting inside me. He rocks with me, our bodies moving as one while more and more of his seed comes out of his dick and into me.

⠀⠀ ⠀Slowly, by moments, we calm, our breathing returning to normal, and then Suguru slumps to the side, bringing me with him, his cock still sheathed in my ass. He kisses the back of my neck, so tender and sweet. “Oh, baby. That was…”

⠀⠀ ⠀“Mmm-hmm.” I wiggle against him, his dick slowly softening inside me. I can still feel the stretch and heat of him, his cum dribbling from my hole.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Stay here, baby.” He eases from my back passage and I whimper, reach back for him, but he’s already gone. I watch while he pads naked to the bathroom and returns moments later with two washcloths. He reaches for me, but I hold out my hand. “Stop it. Let me take care of you.”

⠀⠀ ⠀He presses a quick kiss on my shoulder and nudges my hand away, taking care of cleaning me up, wiping away the evidence of his pleasure. Then, after he’s done with me, he does the same to himself.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Pain in my ass, Suguru,” I grumble, not really meaning it, but it’s what we do. We argue about how annoying we are to each other.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Only if you ask nicely,” he replies.

⠀⠀ ⠀I snort.

⠀⠀ ⠀“You were begging, and not too long ago.” He snuggles behind me, his cock nestling along the crack of my ass, arms draped over me. “I believe it was something along the lines of ‘give me your big dick. Fuck me hard. Make me scream.’ But I could be wrong.” I look over my shoulder and stick my tongue out at him. “You’re a asshole.” He raises a single brow. “That’s what you’ve got? ‘You’re a asshole?’”

⠀⠀ ⠀I narrow my eyes and glare at him.

⠀⠀ ⠀“It’s okay, baby, I’ll take that. I’ll also take you.”

⠀⠀ ⠀“What’re you talking about?”

⠀⠀ ⠀He scrapes his teeth along my shoulder, nibbles my skin. “I’m keeping you.”

⠀⠀ ⠀“You can’t keep me! I’m my own wo—”

⠀⠀ ⠀He silences me with a kiss. And it’s almost enough to make me lose my “mad.” Almost. “Hush. You are your own woman, but now, you’re also mine. Don’t worry. You can still hang out with your bitch. You just won’t be picking up men anymore. I’m your man now.”

⠀⠀ ⠀“What?” My mouth opens wide in surprise. “You did not just call my friends bitch!” I get another kiss, but this time, while he shifts me to my back and thrusts into my pussy again. His cock’s hard and thick, filling me, a shot of ecstasy spreading from my pussy.

⠀⠀ ⠀“I did. And I am your man.” He withdraws and eases forward, nice and gentle. “No one else is fucking this pussy. I’ve ruined you, haven’t I? Say it.” He pulls out, pushes back in. “Say it, baby.” He nibbles my lower lip, rains kisses along my jaw and tugs on my earlobe with his teeth. “Say it,” he whispers, licking the shell of my ear.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Fuck, Suguru. You’re my man.”

⠀⠀ ⠀“Your brother.”

⠀⠀ ⠀God, this is so slow and sweet… Feels so damn good I’m gonna come again. Come all over his cock. “My brother.”

⠀⠀ ⠀“Such a hot woman. My little sis. And I’m your brother.”

⠀⠀ ⠀He thrusts home, grinds his hips against me, rubbing my clit just right and yanking a scream from me. “My brother!”

⠀⠀ ⠀I throw my head back, arching and yelling, pleasure bursting through me as I find my release once again. It’s not as strong as before, but deeper, more meaningful. ‘Cause it’s my man, my big bro doing this for me, and not some quick fuck I’ve picked up. “That’s it, baby. Gonna come in this sweet pussy.” He’s breathing heavy again, increasing his pace a little, thrusting harder.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Come in my cunt, Suguru. Fill me up. Give it to me.” I claw his back, run my nails along his spine and dig my heels into his ass checks, pull him into me with more force.

⠀⠀ ⠀“Fuck. Baby…” Then he’s there, coming in me, dick swelling, jerking inside my heat, and spurt after spurt of his cum fills my pussy. He jerks—once, twice, three times before he slumps over me, body shaking, tremors traveling through him with every breath.

⠀⠀ ⠀I stroke his back, soothe him while he catches his breath.

⠀⠀ ⠀He really is a good man. And as long as he fucks me like this every day, I figure I can handle having him as mine.

⠀⠀ ⠀Happy Birthday to me.

[reds-writings]

rust cohle headcanons

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: here's some more rust brain rot on my behalf <3 feedback is always appreciated!

warnings: implications of sex, light cursing, etc. let me know if i missed anything! (minors shoo!)

word count: roughly 1k

-----

adding to the headcanon floating around of him being an acts of service type man through and through. yes, he can go on neverending tangents but sometimes words about his more sentimental/mushy feelings are better demonstrated by him being at your near beck and call whenever you’re in need

you don’t even have to directly ask him to do anything. it’s more like if you were to mention offhand that something in your car didn’t sound right or your fence needed some redoing they’d find themselves fixed within the coming days without so much as another word 

that man is crafty and i cannot be convinced otherwise! the little beer can people he made are just a small example of what he can do with his hands. one day in town you saw a beautiful chestnut dining table but it was just a tad out of your price range so you figured you’d save up a little more for it and get it the next time you stopped by 

rust had some downtime (more like made downtime during his bouts of extreme insomnia) and got to building. it was a while after and by that time you had long forgotten about the table you saw until one day you got home from work only to find an ornately designed table in your dining room. it was a bit different than the one you’d spotted at the shop but no less beautiful. in fact it was even more gorgeous with its polished shine and intricate details 

you had searched for a note or maybe even a sign left anywhere of the maker that it came from to then spot a neatly carved ‘RC’ underneath one of the tabletop’s lefthand corners 

your fingers grazed over the simple set of initials as your brain damn near short-circuited at the fact that this man built you a damn table. with his bare hands. rust cohle saw that you liked a table and decided to just make it himself

you’d made your way to the receiver on your wall after snapping out of your disbelief and rang him up

“You built me a table.” You said it more as a statement than a question instead of a normal greeting.

“I did.” His tone held no sense of pride or smugness at your shock. As if this were no big deal at all.

“You built me a table. When did you have time to build me a whole table? In fact, when’d you start bein’ able make tables in the first place-”

“D’ya like it?” He interjected in that lackadaisical way of his and you paused. 

“...I love it.” 

“Good.” 

“Well, I guess then it’d only be fair for me to invite you over for dinner so that we may put this lovely new table to good use. As thanks of course.” 

You heard him huff in fond amusement on the other line, “Yes, ma’am.” 

y’all put that table to good use alright 

he’s more of a grappler than a cuddler when it comes to sharing a bed

he holds you as if in need of tethering himself. it was as if he were to let go somehow this wouldn’t be real and your presence would flit away should he loosen his grip at any given moment 

if you get too hot in the night any point of minimal contact was still initiated like tangling your foot with his or linking pinkies just so he knew you were nearby (this happens longer down the line in your relationship when he feels a bit more comfortable having someone in his space a bit more constantly) 

quality time together isn’t necessarily always spent doing something totally stimulating or exciting 

it could be as simple as cooking dinner together or curling up on your sofa while he reads and you watch something soapy on television 

he’s a very private man so going out to do something super couple-y isn’t really up his alley. he won’t really ever deny you if you wanted to really switch it up and go to places like bars, the movies, fancy restaurants, etc. he’d just find himself more reserved in more public spaces but no less completely and utterly focused on you

he’s not much of a dancer but don’t get it twisted. his ass can dance. the man is from Texas so you best believe he has more than a few line-dancing routines ingrained in the depths of his mind

on the very few occasions you’ve gotten him to agree to dance with you when you’re out you nearly laugh every time with how seriously he takes it 

you find yourself cooking food for him often. not that he ever expects it of you but living off of cigarettes and beer can only do so much for a guy. he genuinely forgets that his body needs a meal when he gets all caught up in his work (you don’t bother nagging at him much because he’s grown and more stubborn than anything at times) 

if you aren’t available to check in on him you’re not above making Marty grab something for him when they’re stuck at work 

any kiss he gives you is not one made in passing. anything rust does has some level of deep intent behind it but he never kisses you or says ‘i love you’ out of routine or empty habit

he’s a deeply feeling guy and a lot more handsier the longer you’re together (usually still only in the privacy of your own home). it goes back to just having to feel tethered or connected to you! it comforts the more broken/scared bits of him knowing that you’re just there and present and real

his synesthesia can make things overwhelmingly intense so sometimes when you’re out or after certain activities he finds himself in need of longer moments to himself (which you never take personally) 

in less serious moments you find yourself asking him the dumbest questions you can about smelling colors or tasting places 

“So does that mean Marty’s got a taste to him? You've tasted your coworker?” You snickered as you lay beneath the weeping willow in your front yard with him.

“It don’t work like that.” He said around the unlit cigarette in this mouth, tone sounding as if he were entertaining a silly child. 

“Nuh-uh! You said somethin’ awhile back about my presence tastin’ like jasmine and clementines or somethin’-”

“Drop it.”

You poked your tongue in your cheek trying not to giggle. 

“I bet you Marty tastes like stale coffee and I dunno…regret-” You snapped out a surprised laugh as you felt a quick pinch on your side.