#I spent so much time deciding on a name for him

[th3mrskory]

Unspoken Desires

Pairing: fem!Reader x Old Man!Logan

Warning: 18+ MDNI, SMUT,explicit language, coercion (if you squint), oral (male/female receiving), handjob, fingering, unprotected p in v, missionary, doggy style, anal play, creampie.

Summary: Y/N is always the one taking care of everyone, but tonight Logan decides it’s her turn to let go. Rough, tender, and unapologetically intense, he’ll make sure she doesn’t forget who’s in charge—or how good it feels to be taken care of for once.

Word count: 5.6k

A/N: As @coocoocachewgotscrewed so brilliantly put it, 'As the girl that takes care of everyone: SOMEONE TAKE CARE OF ME.' And that’s how this little fic came to life.

© th3mrskory. don’t copy, translate, or use my works in any form with AI, ChatGPT or any other automated tools. I only share my stories here, so if you see them posted elsewhere, i’d appreciate it if you let me know.

The world had never been kind to her softness. In her youth, she'd learned early that the only way to survive was to take up space, to become a force others couldn't ignore, even if they didn't understand it. She had built walls from the ground up, stone by stone until they formed a fortress no one could breach. She had everything together—mostly. She had to. People depended on her and needed her strength to carry them through the chaos of life, so she did. She carried it all. Always.

But there were moments—quiet moments, when the world was still—when the weight of it all pressed against her chest, relentless. The loneliness in her veins. The unspoken ache buried deep within her ribs.

She never asked for help. She didn't need it. Her hands were too used to giving. And when she laughed, when she made jokes about being single—"Men want to be babied. I don't have time to raise a child."—it was easier to mask the truth. It was easier to hide the hunger that lingered beneath her words. The hunger for something she couldn't name, something too soft to fit into the life she'd built.

It was supposed to be just another day, another task, another moment in the long string of motions she went through without thought. But then she saw him—Logan, standing there with that quiet, raw strength of his. The way he didn't try to impress anyone, didn't need to, because the power in him was as much in his silence as it was in his actions. There was no pretense. No façade.

And she hated that it drew her in. 

She hated how much she wanted him—him, the one man who wouldn't cower in her presence, the one who wouldn't need her to be anything other than exactly what she was.

She noticed him more these days, more than she cared to admit. She tried to bury the thoughts, to ignore the way her heart would quicken whenever he was near, the way her body seemed to ache for something it didn't know how to name.

Logan saw it, though. He always did. The way she wore that strength-like armor. But he'd spent enough time with it to know what armor looked like—he knew what it meant to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders and never let anyone see how heavy it was.

He didn't pity her. Hell, he admired her more than anyone he'd ever known. But he saw the cracks. The storm churned behind her eyes. The way she pulled away just when things might have gotten too real, too close. 

She never let anyone in.

But he wasn't afraid of it. Not of her. Not of that ferocity.

And so, on that night, after a thousand little things had piled up until there was no room left for her to breathe, it came out.

Her words were sharp, and cutting, but they were the truth. The raw, jagged truth that she never allowed to be spoken. She was tired of pretending. Tired of holding the world together when no one saw her crumble beneath it.

"What, you think I don't need help? You think I like doing everything myself?" Her voice trembled only slightly, a crack in the fortress that she had so carefully built.

He didn't flinch. Didn't back away. He'd seen that wall before, and he didn't fear it.

He only stepped closer, his presence as solid as the ground beneath them.

"I think you're too damn stubborn to ask for it," he said, his voice low, but the understanding in it was enough to make her heart catch in her throat.

For a moment, the world paused. The storm inside her stilled, and she saw it—really saw it for the first time. He wasn't afraid of her strength. He didn't want to tear it down. He just wanted to be there, beside her, when it all became too much to bear.

He didn't need to fix her. He didn't need to save her.

He just needed to let her be.

Let her lean into him. Let her rest.

Her breath caught as she stepped toward him, her hands trembling, unsure but desperate. For once, she wasn't the one giving. For once, she could be held, could be taken care of. 

Logan's hands were steady, as they always were, but now, they weren't just offering strength. They were offering safety—something she hadn't realized she'd been searching for all along. 

"Hey," he whispered, his voice low, soothing. "You don't have to be strong all the time. You're allowed to let it out." 

The words broke something inside her. Heat prickled behind her eyes, and her chest heaved with the weight of everything she'd kept buried. 

Logan didn't move. He didn't push. He just let her cry, his hand resting firm and comforting on her back, his presence solid as the ground beneath her. 

"Y/N..." His voice was softer now, laced with something she couldn't quite place. Gently, his hands cupped her face, his thumbs brushing away her tears with a tenderness that made her knees weak. 

"You don't have to carry it all, bub. Let me in, just this once." 

Her hands shook as she pressed them to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips. Grounding her. And when she rubbed her cheek against his palm, the motion instinctive, something inside her gave way. 

Her eyes fell to his lips. The urge to kiss him became impossible to ignore. 

He leaned down, brushing his lips against her forehead, but then he paused, his gaze locking with hers. 

She couldn't stop herself. She leaned in, kissing him hard, desperate for the release, the comfort, the closeness. It was a kiss that broke everything wide open—a kiss that held the weight of everything they'd both been holding back. 

The kiss deepened, the world narrowing to the warmth of his lips and the solid strength of his hands still cradling her face. She felt the tension in her chest unravel, replaced by a need that clawed at her, desperate and all-consuming.

Logan didn't rush. He never did. His hands slid down, slow and deliberate, tracing over her arms until his fingers wrapped around her wrists. He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, his breath hot against her lips.

"No walls. No fightin'. Just let me.", he murmured, his voice gravelly and sure, sending a shiver down her spine. The words hit her like a hammer, shattering the last of her defenses. She wasn't used to this, wasn't used to handing over the reins, but with Logan, it felt...safe. Right.

Her pulse thundered as she nodded, the tiniest of movements, but it was enough for him.

Logan's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile before he kissed her again, deeper this time, his hands guiding hers up and over her head. Her fingers curled instinctively as he pinned her wrists against the wall behind her, the roughness of the surface contrasting with the gentleness of his touch.

"Just let me make you feel good," he said, his voice low and commanding. She exhaled shakily, her head tilting back as his mouth moved to her neck, teeth scraping lightly against her skin before his tongue soothed the spot. Her body arched into him, her hips pressing forward, seeking more, needing more.

"Logan..." Her voice was barely above a whisper, a plea wrapped in the sound of his name.

He hummed against her throat, one hand still holding her wrists in place while the other traveled down her side, his fingers skimming over the curve of her hip. "That's it," he rumbled. "Let me hear you."

Each touch, each kiss, stripped away the layers she'd built to protect herself. She wasn't in control anymore—not of her body, not of her mind, not of the way she melted beneath him. And for once, she didn't care.

Logan moved with a precision that left her breathless, his hand slipping beneath her shirt, rough fingertips tracing the softness of her skin. He paused just below her ribs, his eyes flicking up to hers.

"Say it, darlin'," he coaxed. "Say you'll let me have you."

Her lips parted, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. "I'm yours."

And that was all it took.

His hands, calloused and strong, gripped her thighs, hoisting her up with an ease that sent a shiver racing down her spine. She gasped, clinging to his shoulders as her body pressed tightly against his.

"Where's your bedroom?" he growled against her ear, his voice low, gravelly, and filled with the kind of raw command that made her knees weak, though she wasn't even standing.

"End of the hall," she whispered, the words trembling out of her as his teeth grazed her earlobe, a low hum rumbling deep in his chest.

"Good girl," he murmured, the praise almost too rough to feel soft, and yet it sent heat pooling low in her stomach.

He moved through her place with purposeful strides, each step a reminder of the strength coiled in his body. She felt the steady rhythm of his breathing against her chest, the way his arms tightened around her as if he dared anything or anyone to take her from him.

When they reached her bedroom, Logan kicked the door open without hesitation, the force behind it making it swing back against the wall. The dim light from the hallway framed his silhouette—broad shoulders, wild hair, and eyes that burned as he looked down at her.

The room felt smaller with him in it, his presence overwhelming, and consuming. He didn't glance around, didn't make a single remark. His focus was entirely on her as if the world beyond her didn't exist.

"On the bed," he rasped, his voice cutting through the thick silence.

Before she could even process his words, he was lowering her onto the mattress, her back meeting the cool sheets as his hands lingered, pressing her down as he needed her to stay right where she was.

"Logan—"

"Quiet." The single word was sharp and commanding, and it sent a jolt of heat through her.

His eyes roved over her, dark and smoldering, drinking her in as though he was committing every inch of her to memory. One knee pressed into the mattress beside her, his weight shifting as he leaned closer, his hands bracketing her head.

"Spent your whole damn life holdin' everything together," he muttered his tone a mix of frustration and something darker. "Not tonight. Tonight, you're mine."

Her lips parted, but no sound came out, just a sharp intake of breath as he tilted her chin up with his thumb, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"I'm not askin', darlin'." His voice dropped to a growl, sending a shudder down her spine.

Her heart thundered in her chest as his lips claimed hers again, rough and unrelenting, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip just enough to make her gasp. The sound made his grip tighten, his hands sliding down her sides slowly as if savoring the way her body responded to him.

"You don't have to be strong tonight," he murmured against her lips, his voice softer now, though no less commanding. "Let me carry it. Let me carry you."

Her resolve cracked beneath the weight of his words, her body trembling as her hands found his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his dress shirt. For once, she didn't fight. She didn't resist.

She just let go.

Logan's eyes never left hers as he straightened, standing tall above her. His hands were steady as he reached for the hem of her shirt. The air between them felt charged, and heavy, like the moment before a storm.

"Arms up," he commanded, his voice low and rough, leaving no room for hesitation.

She obeyed without a word, raising her arms as he gripped the fabric, his knuckles brushing against her sides. He pulled the shirt up slowly, dragging the material over her skin with a sensuality that made her shiver. The shirt caught for a moment, tangled in her hair, and Logan let out a low chuckle, dark and throaty.

"Relax," he muttered, his voice softer now as he freed her, his fingers lingering against her temple, brushing stray strands away from her face.

The shirt dropped to the floor with a quiet rustle, forgotten the second it left his hand. His gaze roamed over her now-bare skin, unhurried and scorching, like he wanted to memorize every curve, every scar, every inch of her that she'd never let anyone else see.

"You're beautiful," he said, the words rough and quiet as if they weren't meant for her to hear, but they landed with the force of a confession.

Her cheeks burned under his scrutiny, but there was no hiding from him. He stepped closer, his hands moving to the waistband of her jeans. His fingers brushed her skin, calloused and warm, and she bit back a gasp as he popped the button with ease.

"Look at me," he ordered, his tone low but firm.

Her eyes met his, and the intensity in his gaze made her breath hitch. He was utterly focused as if she were the only thing that mattered in the world. Slowly, he slid the zipper down, the sound loud in the quiet room.

"Lift your hips," he murmured, his hands curling around the waistband, tugging the denim down with maddening slowness.

She shifted, doing as he asked, and he peeled the jeans away, dragging them down her legs. His fingers brushed her calves, and her ankles before the fabric joined her shirt on the floor. The air felt colder now, her skin hypersensitive to every little movement, every little touch.

Logan's eyes raked over her, his expression dark and unreadable. Then he reached out, his hands gripping her ankles, his thumbs running along the delicate bone there. He tugged her toward him, pulling her to the edge of the bed with a strength that made her stomach flip.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he growled, his voice ragged, laced with something almost feral.

Her heart raced as he leaned down, his fingers hooking into the thin straps of her bra, sliding them off her shoulders with an aching slowness. The straps fell away, his knuckles grazing her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"You don't need this," he murmured, his lips brushing the curve of her collarbone as he reached behind her, unhooking the clasp with a practiced ease.

The bra slipped from her body, and Logan let it fall without a glance, his hands already returning to her, tracing a path down her sides. His palms were warm, rough in the best way, and they left trails of fire wherever they touched.

"Every inch of you," he whispered, his lips ghosting over her skin as his hands slid lower. "Mine."

Her breath hitched, her body arching toward him instinctively, surrendering completely to his touch.

Logan's hands paused at her hips, his fingers slipping under the thin elastic of her panties. His gaze flicked up to hers, holding her there with an intensity that made her pulse thunder in her ears.

She nodded, her voice failing her, but it didn't matter. Logan saw everything he needed in her eyes.

With one smooth motion, he slid the last barrier from her body, baring her completely to him. He stood there for a moment, his gaze raking over her with a hunger that made her shiver.

"Perfect," he muttered, more to himself than to her, before leaning down, his lips brushing against her ear.

"Now let me show you what it means to let go."

Logan knelt between her legs, his hands on her knees, gently parting them as he moved with calm, deliberate intent. She froze for a second, a wave of embarrassment washing over her as she realized she hadn't shaved. Her gaze quickly flicked away, her cheeks flushing with the sudden vulnerability she felt.

But Logan noticed. He looked at her with a reassuring, almost amused smirk, his eyes flickering down her body before meeting hers again.

"Don't," he murmured, his voice low and soothing as he pressed a thumb along her inner thigh. "I like it just like this."

Her breath hitched at his words, the tension in her body slowly melting under his touch.

He lowered himself slowly, nuzzling his face against her inner thighs, placing soft, teasing kisses along their expanse. His right hand moved to her center, and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to her sensitive bud. His middle and ring fingers slid over her hole, collecting her wetness, and spreading it across her labia.

"She's drooling for me," he murmured as his fingers slowly began to push inside, allowing her to adjust to the stretch. He kept his gaze fixed on her face, watching her pleasure as his fingers began to pump in and out, each movement deliberate and slow.

His fingers continued their rhythmic motion, working in tandem with his mouth. He moved his tongue over her clit, the tip flicking over the sensitive skin in a slow, teasing rhythm that made her body arch toward him. Her hands fisted the sheets beneath her, desperately trying to hold onto something as the heat of his touch seared into her.

"Logan... please," she gasped, her voice trembling, her hips pressing closer to his face.

Logan didn't stop. His tongue flicked faster now, tracing every curve, every inch of her, his mouth drinking in her arousal. She couldn't stop herself anymore; her back arched as her body responded to him, the tension building within her like a wave. "So good," she moaned, her voice breathy and desperate.

"You're so fucking beautiful," Logan murmured against her skin, his voice rough, thick with desire. He paused for a moment, lifting his head to look up at her. "I can feel you shaking. Let go."

She shuddered under his gaze, the command in his voice stripping away the last of her resistance. Her body wanted to obey, to give herself over completely to the sensations he was creating. "I can't... I need you, Logan," she pleaded, tangling her fingers in his hair, urging him back to her, wordlessly begging for more.

Logan smirked, his hands sliding down her sides, gripping her hips tightly as he pulled her closer to his mouth, continuing the rhythm with even more force, more hunger. Every lick, every flick of his tongue brought her closer to the edge.

He could feel the way her body tightened, the way her breath quickened. And then, without warning, his mouth pressed harder against her clit, his tongue moving with desperate speed as he drove her to the brink. She moaned loudly, her body shuddering as she reached the edge. "Logan... oh god," she cried out, completely surrendering to the pleasure.

As she caught her breath, her body still humming with the lingering sensation of his touch, a quiet yearning stirred within her. She sat up, her eyes locking onto his as she gently took his hand. Without a word, she brought his fingers to her lips, her eyes never leaving his. She traced them with her tongue, sucking them clean, savoring the taste of her arousal, before pulling back just a little.

"Dirty girl…" he said, his left hand cupping her cheek.

"I could be sucking something else", she said seductively.

He looked at her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. "You don't have to," he murmured, his voice low, steady.

"I want to. Please."

Logan stood up slowly, keeping his eyes locked with hers. There was an intensity in his gaze, an unspoken challenge, and a silent invitation all at once.

She positioned herself on her knees before him. Her movements were deliberate, almost hypnotic, as her hands traced the strong lines of his shoulders, sliding down his chest, and over the hard muscles of his belly.

When her fingers reached his belt, she didn't hesitate. With a swift motion, she unbuckled it, the leather slipping free with an audible click before it fell to the floor. Her hands moved quickly to the button of his dress pants, flicking it open, and she slowly lowered the zipper.

She tugged at the hem of his shirt, pulling it free from his waistband. Her fingers, delicate yet determined, began to unbutton the shirt, one button at a time. Her gaze never left him, and the way her hands worked with such slow precision sent a wave of heat through his chest. The act was intimate, each button a whispered invitation.

Once the shirt was undone, she moved to the cuffs, gently opening them before pressing a soft kiss to the back of each of his hands. Logan closed his eyes briefly at the touch, the tenderness of it catching him off guard. His thumb stroked the curve of her cheek, the touch affectionate, reverent.

There was something magnetic about the way she undressed him—each movement slow and filled with purpose. Her eyes held a quiet hunger that mirrored his own, a silent language between them that made his pulse quicken.

He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall carelessly to the floor. She didn't waste a moment, pulling his pants and boxers down his legs in one smooth, fluid motion, letting them drop to the floor as he stepped out of the garment.

He stood there, bare in front of her. His body was exposed, but it wasn't the nudity that left him feeling vulnerable. It was the way his body didn't respond like it once had, the slow burn of frustration creeping in.

But that did not deter her. She braced herself on all fours, the movement full of quiet confidence. Leaning in, she began licking and gently sucking at his balls, the heat of her mouth sending a shiver through him. His breath hitched as her right hand took hold of his semi-hard dick, her touch light but teasing, coaxing him to respond. The softness of her lips, the pressure of her hand, stirred something deep inside him, and he could feel himself slowly hardening.

She licked a long stripe from his balls up to his tip, her mouth hot against his skin. The sudden surge of sensation had him grunting low, his hands instinctively finding their way into her hair, fingers curling into her locks as he pulled her closer.

"Fuck," Logan breathed, his voice low and rough, as his grip tightened on her hair, pulling her in deeper, the feeling of her mouth sending waves of heat through him. "Don't stop," he muttered.

Y/N could feel him growing heavier and thick in her mouth. She released his dick with a loud pop and with both hands began pumping it.

At the sight Logan closed his eyes and let his head fall back, the hold on her hair tightening. She took him in her mouth and, hollowing her cheeks, began taking him deeper.

She gagged around him when her nose reached the grey hairs on the base and pulled back coughing, a string of saliva connecting her to his member.

Y/N looked up and smiled mischievously seeing him fully erect.

Logan pushed her onto the bed, his hands firmly pinning her wrists to the mattress as he hovered over her. His eyes locked onto hers.

"You're trouble," he finally muttered, his voice deep and rough.

She smirked, but there was a glint of challenge in her eyes. "You don't seem to mind," she teased, her breath hitching as his gaze darkened with hunger.

His lips curved into a slow, predatory smile. Without warning, he moved, pinning her down more securely. "No, I don't," he growled, his voice low as he leaned in closer, brushing his lips over her neck.

Her breath quickened as she felt the weight of his body pressing against hers. She could feel the heat radiating off him, and despite herself, she arched up, meeting the intensity of his gaze. He was in control now, his hands steady as he guided her into place.

He took a breath, his lips brushing against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. "You're going to beg for it," he whispered. His tone was rough, yet there was a subtle edge of something softer, almost possessive. "And I'll make sure you don't forget who's in charge."

She bit her lip, anticipating what he would do next.

Logan smiled darkly and kissed her again, his right hand traveling down her chest and grabbing her right breast, giving it a harsh squeeze.

He positioned himself between her legs, gripping his member at the base as he ran his tip along her sensitive center, teasing her with deliberate strokes from her clit to her entrance. Each motion made her hips twitch, her body responding instinctively to his touch.

Her moans filled the room, "Logan," she said breathlessly.

"Yes?"

She closed her legs around him pulling him closer. Logan laughed at her antics. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned back slightly, gathering spit in his mouth before letting it fall onto her, aiding his movement.

Her moans became desperate, almost broken, her hands clutching at his forearms. "Logan," she whimpered, her voice raw with need. "Please… I need you."

His smirk deepened as he held her gaze, the intensity in his eyes making her squirm beneath him. "I told you, you'd beg" he murmured, his voice low and rough.

Her chest heaved, her lips trembling with the words she couldn't seem to stop. "I'm yours, Logan. Please…"

One large hand moved to her throat, his palm pressing gently against her skin, holding her in place. His thumb traced the line of her jaw as his other hand gripped her thigh, pulling her even closer. "Mine," he growled, his tone possessive, claiming.

The pressure at her throat made her head swim, a strange mix of restraint and trust that sent a bolt of heat through her. She arched into his hold, her body surrendering completely.

"You like this, don't you?" he rasped, his lips brushing against hers but not quite touching. His voice was low and commanding, but there was a glint of something softer beneath it, a promise just out of reach.

Her breath hitched, and she let out a shaky moan, her hands clutching at his wrist. "Yes," she whispered, desperate and trembling.

His mouth curved into a wicked smirk as his hand shifted, loosening his hold just enough for her to feel the contrast. "Let me take care of you," he murmured, dragging his thumb along the curve of her jaw.

The words lingered in the air, heavy with intent but unspoken in full. His free hand slid down her body, fingers tracing her curves with a deliberateness that made her skin tingle.

She whimpered, her body responding to every calculated movement. "Logan..."

He leaned in, his lips ghosting over her ear. "Stop thinking. Just feel," he whispered, the edge of his voice rough yet grounding. "That's all I want from you tonight."

He shifted between her legs, his hands gripping her hips, lifting her with ease as he positioned himself. The heat of his body pressed against hers, and her heart thudded in her chest, anticipation coiling tightly in her core.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmured, his voice a rough whisper.

She nodded, her breath hitching as she felt the tip of his member pressing against her entrance. With a slow, fluid motion, he eased himself inside, feeling the resistance of her body disappearing.

Y/N threw her head back, a low moan slipping from her lips as her body adjusted to his length, "Fuck," she breathed, unable to hide the raw need in her voice.

She bit her lip at the feeling of him twitching inside of her. Logan leaned forward, his tongue sliding down the side of her neck. He then moved to her breasts, attaching his mouth to one of her nipples and sucking. He released her nipple.

"Breathe," he whispered, his hand sliding up to rest on her waist, grounding her. "I've got you."

He straightened up, his body towering over hers, and braced his hand on the headboard as he drew his hips back, the feel of his withdrawal sending a shiver through her. She barely had time to adjust before he slammed back into her.

She was trembling beneath him, her nails digging into his shoulders as she tried to keep up with the brutal rhythm he set. Every time he pulled out, every time he pushed back in, the pressure inside her built, and she couldn't help but whimper.

He picked up the pace, his thrusts turning faster, more brutal, as he pushed into her with a hunger that matched the fire in her veins. Her hips moved to meet him, desperate for more, and he responded with a growl of approval, his hands tightening on her hips to anchor her in place as his rhythm grew harder, more punishing.

"Fuck Y/N."

She smiled at him.

"You like that, don't you?" Logan's voice was rough, and dark, as he pulled back slightly, only to push in even harder.

She couldn't stop herself from moaning, the sharpness of the sensation hitting her in waves.

"That's right," Logan growled, his grip on her hips like iron as he rocked into her with force.

Her body responded without thought, her legs wrapping tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper, faster as if she couldn't get enough. The sound of skin slapping echoed in the room, mixing with the desperate gasps coming from her lips.

Without warning, he shifted his position, his hands leaving her hips for a moment, only to slip under her and lift her body, pulling her into a new angle. She gasped, the sudden shift throwing her off balance, but Logan's grip on her was firm, and controlling, as he guided her back onto him.

Her back arched instinctively, the new position deepening their connection, and she moaned, her hands reaching for the headboard to brace herself. Logan's thrusts grew slower but deeper, more deliberate now, aimed to bring her right to the brink.

Logan's hand came down hard on her left asscheek jolting Y/N forward.

"Logan…" she gasped, her voice trembling with need.

He could hear it—the desperation in her voice, the way her body was bucking against his. He watched her face, her eyes closed tight, her lips parted in a silent plea for release. He wanted to hear her, wanted to feel her break under him.

He gave one last hard, deep thrust, then paused, letting the sensation build before pulling back almost completely. She whimpered, the loss of movement driving her crazy, and before she could protest, he repositioned again, this time bending her further back, his hands now holding her shoulders down as he ran his member between her asscheeks.

Her breath hitched as she looked back at him, over her shoulder, her eyes filled with raw desire.

Logan didn't wait any longer. He positioned himself behind her, his hands firmly gripping her hips as he pushed into her slowly at first, savoring the tight, intense heat that engulfed him. The change in angle sent a shockwave of pleasure through her, and she moaned, her hands clutching at the sheets in desperation.

"Fuck," Logan muttered, his voice low and full of grit as he began to move, his thrusts quick and forceful, each one pushing her further into the bed.

She gasped with each hard thrust, the pleasure taking over her senses, her body rocking in time with his. The deeper connection from this position sent waves of bliss coursing through her, and she pressed back into him, her hips meeting his with every thrust.

"Does this feel better?" Logan growled, his hands tightening on her hips, guiding her with raw intensity.

She could barely manage a breathless, "Yes, harder…"

His thrusts grew harder, faster, and relentless, pushing her toward the edge.

She couldn't hold back anymore, "Logan …I'm gonna…"

His strokes grew sloppier as he grabbed her neck, angling her face so he could kiss her.

Y/N's moans filled the room. The mixture of his hard thrusts and the slap of his balls on her ass pushed her over the edge as she began shaking.

Y/N fell forward, her face on the bed and her ass in the air. Logan didn't stop. His hands opened her asscheeks as he watched his thick, veiny member going in and out of her hole, creating a creamy ring at the base of his member.

The new angle allowed Logan to continuously hit her cervix. "Be a good girl, come on my dick."

Her hands fisted the sheets and Logan, with his thumb began circling her other hole. The new stimulation tipped Y/N over the edge as she came hard on his member.

Logan didn't stop. Didn't even slow down as he followed her, his movements like a force of nature, unyielding, as he pushed her through the waves of pleasure, every last inch of her shaking with the force of it.

Her mouth fell open as she felt him stilling and his release spilling inside of her.

"Fuck!", he said, throwing his head back.

He remained still for a moment but then pulled out when he felt his member softening. He sat on his knees admiring their joint releases dripping out of her spent hole.

"Jesus, that's a fucking sight.", his index finger reached collecting the release and pushing it back.

Y/N moaned and fell on her stomach. He removed his fingers and lay next to her.

"Did it help?", he asked playfully.

"Shut up Logan."

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© th3mrskory 2025 — all rights reserved.

[goldfades]

★ HARD LAUNCH ───JOE BURROW

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | requested by anon! kelce!sister x joe burrow, secret relationship.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | obviously, taylor swift MENTIONED!! cause of course, i just had to. big brothers jason/travis, teasing, overall fluffy read

⟢ ┈ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | this may be my new fav thing ever? having joe burrow, TAYLOR SWIFT, the kelces + kylie kelce in one family seems so fucking iconic and insane at the same time omg, i lowkey wanna make this a series

You don’t mean to catch his eye.

In fact, you’ve spent most of the evening trying very hard not to. At least, that’s what you’ll tell yourself later when the weight of it all feels too much, and you’re scrambling for a clean excuse to explain how it even started. Because that’s the thing about Joe Burrow—he’s not someone you plan for. He’s the unexpected storm on a clear day, knocking you off balance and leaving you to question if you’d ever been steady to begin with.

It’s Travis’s fault, really. Your brothers have this way of making themselves larger than life in every room they walk into, whether it’s Jason’s hearty laugh or Travis’s electric energy pulling people into his orbit. And you’re fine with it. Comfortable, even, in their shadows, where you can sip a beer, quietly people-watch, and dodge any unwanted attention. But tonight, at this NFL charity gala, the Kelce sibling spotlight is a little brighter, the event packed with athletes and reporters—people who know your last name. It’s harder to blend into the wallpaper, especially when you’re sandwiched between Jason’s dad jokes and Travis’s loud retelling of some outrageous offseason story.

And then there’s Joe. Sitting a few tables over, clad in a sleek black suit that fits him so well it’s borderline criminal, he looks… well, like Joe Burrow. Sharp jawline, blondish hair perfectly tousled, an air of calm confidence that somehow feels louder than any of the noise around him. He’s laughing at something—something Sam Hubbard said, probably—and you catch yourself staring just a second too long.

You’re not entirely sure who looks away first. All you know is that by the time the dessert plates are cleared and the speeches begin, you’re hyperaware of his presence. You can feel him across the room, like his attention is a physical thing brushing against your skin. It’s ridiculous, you tell yourself. He’s just... looking. It doesn’t mean anything.

Except it does.

It means everything when you’re stepping out onto the terrace for some air, your sleek, black and red YSL heels clicking softly against the stone, and you hear the door open behind you. You don’t have to turn around to know it’s him. There’s a shift in the atmosphere, a tension pulling taut like a string, and you’re suddenly grateful for the cool night air because your skin feels impossibly warm.

“You’re one of the Kelces, right?” His voice is low, a little rough around the edges, and somehow more disarming than you expected.

You glance over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Depends. Do you think that’s a good thing or a bad thing?”

He chuckles, stepping closer. There’s a deliberateness to his movements, like he’s not the type to rush but always knows exactly where he’s going. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“Fair.” You turn fully now, leaning back against the railing. He’s even more striking up close, the sharp lines of his face softened by the golden glow of the terrace lights. For a moment, you’re not sure what to say. Then, because your brothers raised you to never back down from a challenge, you smirk. “And you’re Joe Burrow. Didn’t think you’d need an introduction.”

“I don’t. But I’m still glad we’re having this conversation.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop the small laugh that escapes. “Do lines like that usually work for you?”

“Don’t know,” he says, leaning casually against the railing beside you. “You tell me.”

And just like that, you’re hooked. Not in the obvious way, where fireworks explode and violins play in the background. It’s subtler than that, a slow burn you feel deep in your gut—like the start of something you shouldn’t want but can’t seem to resist. Because Joe Burrow isn’t the kind of guy you go looking for, but now that he’s found you, you’re not sure you want him to let go.

And a few months later, the relationship between you and Joe isn’t just an open secret—it’s become a storm of speculation. The internet sleuths had started piecing things together long before either of you admitted it, thanks to vague Instagram posts, overlapping locations and that one time someone spotted you in the background of a Bengals training camp photo.

Still, you’ve both remained tight-lipped, dodging questions and letting the rumors simmer on their own. It’s worked so far, but keeping something like this under wraps when your last name is Kelce and his is Burrow? It feels impossible most days.

The rumors, though, are front and center when Jason and Travis bring it up on New Heights. It starts innocently enough—one of their usual tangents about social media chaos. But then Jason, ever the instigator, leans in with a mischievous grin.

“So, Trav,” he says, dragging it out just enough to make Travis squint suspiciously. “What’s this I’m hearing about our baby sister and a certain quarterback?”

Travis groans dramatically, throwing his head back like he’s already tired of the conversation. “Man, here we go.”

“No, no, seriously,” Jason presses, laughing. “It’s all over Twitter. ‘Joe and the Kelce Sister’—people are going crazy.”

Travis tries to deflect, muttering something about people needing hobbies, but Jason isn’t letting it go.

“I mean, listen,” Jason continues, grinning directly at the camera now. “I’m not saying I believe it, but if it were true… Joe Burrow? Not a bad pick, kid. Not a bad pick.”

Travis finally gives in, throwing up his hands. “Alright, alright! Let’s settle this once and for all.” He swivels toward the camera with exaggerated seriousness. “Get her on the phone.”

The producers, who are clearly loving this, cut to a break while Travis pulls out his phone and FaceTimes you. You answer after a couple of rings, your face appearing on screen with a mix of amusement and mild annoyance.

“What do you want?” you ask, already bracing yourself.

Jason wastes no time. “Alright, tell the people: are you or are you not dating Joe Burrow?”

You roll your eyes, trying not to laugh. “Seriously? That’s why you called me?”

“Yes, seriously!” Jason says, leaning forward like he’s trying to peer through the phone. “I need to know if I should be worried about a potential Bengals-Kelce family feud.”

“I’m not even answering that,” you say, shaking your head. “You guys are ridiculous.”

“Okay, okay,” Travis cuts in, holding up his hands. “But just… hypothetically, if you were dating him, what would you say about the guy? Like, first impressions.”

You narrow your eyes at the screen, knowing exactly what he’s trying to do. But you can’t help it—you smirk, your tone deliberately nonchalant. “I mean, hypothetically… he’s not a bad-looking person.”

Both brothers lose it, Jason practically howling with laughter while Travis points dramatically at the camera. “Not a bad-looking person!” he repeats. “That’s all we’re getting?”

You shrug, keeping your expression as deadpan as possible. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Alright, fine,” Jason says, wiping his eyes. “We’ll let you off the hook for now. But just know, we’re watching.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you hang up. But the damage is done—the clip is bound to go viral within hours. And you know the internet will analyze every single word you just said, dissecting it for confirmation that, yes, Joe Burrow and a Kelce sibling are absolutely a thing.

As you sit back on your couch, phone buzzing with texts from friends who caught the livestream, you can’t help but wonder how long you and Joe can keep this secret before it all inevitably comes spilling out. But for now, you smile to yourself, thinking about the way Joe teased you about your brothers earlier that morning. He’d probably find this whole thing hilarious.

—

The off-season brings a rare stretch of peace for both you and Joe, a time when the usual chaos of his schedule fades into long days and quiet nights. You’d been looking forward to the annual Kelce family lake trip all year, a week of boat rides, bonfires, and general shenanigans with your brothers, their partners, and a rotating cast of nieces and nephews. But this time, Joe is here too, woven seamlessly into the fabric of your family life in a way that's both surreal and comforting.

The trip itself is perfect. Joe is surprisingly great at keeping up with the Kelce energy—he plays cornhole with Travis like they’ve been doing it for years, listens patiently to Jason’s never-ending dad stories, and even lets your mom convince him to try her "world-famous" potato salad (a task not taken lightly). Your dad, famously hard to impress, quietly declares Joe "a good kid," which might as well be a five-star review.

The vibe is even more electric this year, thanks to a certain high-profile addition to the Kelce orbit: Taylor Swift. She’d tagged along with Travis, her easy charm and megawatt presence somehow blending seamlessly with your loud, loving family. Taylor and Joe hit it off surprisingly well—you’d caught them once, deep in conversation about some indie band neither of them expected the other to know. And when Taylor found out Joe was a secret Swiftie, she’d teased him mercilessly, promising to quiz him on song lyrics over dinner.

The two of you have been careful so far, sticking to the usual boundaries when phones are out and cameras are snapping. But then comes the moment. The hard launch.

You don’t know he’s planning it. It’s Joe, after all—calm, collected, never one to do anything impulsive without a hundred layers of thought. The picture goes live on his Instagram late in the afternoon, just as the sun is starting to dip below the trees.

The photo is subtle in that effortless, Joe Burrow way, but anyone with eyes can see what it is. It’s a snapshot of the dock, golden light reflecting off the water. You’re sitting with your back to the camera, legs dangling off the edge, wearing an oversized Bengals hoodie that could only belong to one person. Joe’s in the frame too, though only partially—just his legs stretched out next to you, and his hand resting casually on your knee. There’s no caption, just the kind of emoji Joe loves to use, simple and vague—a single wave 🌊

The internet explodes.

You realize it’s out when your phone starts buzzing nonstop, notifications lighting up your screen like fireworks. Group texts, Instagram DMs, Twitter tags—everyone and their mom has an opinion about the post. Your brothers are the first to call.

Joe wanders into the kitchen then, shirtless and still damp from a swim, his hair curling slightly from the lake water. He raises an eyebrow when he sees you on the phone, and you wave him over, switching to speaker.

“Speaking of,” Jason says loudly. “Joey! Nice post, buddy.”

Joe smirks, leaning casually against the counter. “Thanks. Figured it was time.”

“Time?!” Travis is howling now. “You just dropped the most casual ‘we’re dating’ announcement of all time, and all you’ve got is ‘figured it was time’?”

Joe shrugs, unbothered. “Seemed like the right vibe.”

Jason sighs dramatically. “Well, congrats, I guess. You’re officially one of us now.”

“Welcome to the family,” Travis chimes in, still laughing. “But just know, you’re never gonna live this down.”

Joe grins, glancing at you, his expression softening. “I can handle it.”

Later that night, as the two of you sit by the fire, Taylor strumming a guitar nearby while your brothers argue about s’mores ratios, your phone buzzes intermittently with notifications. You can’t help but marvel at how unshaken Joe is by all of it. He just laughs when you bring it up, pulling you closer and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Let them talk,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “We’ve got nothing to hide anymore.”

And as the fire crackles and your family’s laughter drifts through the night, you realize he’s right. The world knows now, and somehow, it doesn’t feel scary—it feels freeing.

[cherrycranes]

Dream Girl 2 (Neil Lewis x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Neil Lewis x Fem!Reader Summary: You've been video calling Neil for quite some time now, and finally, you decide it's time to go to Gumshoe Video to meet your biggest fan. Word count: 5,211 Contents: (Minors DNI). Reader is a camgirl. Fluff & smut, praise, unprotected sex, cream pie. Author's notes: Finally, the promised part 2 of this fic, and a collab with queen @fuckiingloser. Mandatory "english is not my first language" disclaimer. Pinterest moodboard at the bottom to help you visualize <3

It had been over a month ago. The initial video call with Neil had blossomed into three more that were, of course, free of charge and highly anticipated by the butterflies in your stomach. Every time they seemed to get better. Skype was replaced by facetime for much more efficiency and besides the expected masturbation and flirtations, there were also laughter and long conversations that would mostly surpass the time spent jerking off. 

After his softly declined attempt on that first call, Neil never brought up meeting again, afraid of scaring you away. Whenever the idea of just how desperate and rushed he must have looked came to memory, he chastised himself. A phenomenon that increased in frequency the longer he spent calling you. You were unbelievable, and you deserved the best of the best. His best self too… Put in a very critical situation, Neil had started to accept that he had a huge crush on you that grew the more he got to know about you. He could have sworn he physically felt it in his chest when, one day, you told him your name. Your real name.

Unbeknownst to him, you felt it too. Everything, in fact. Your previous experiences kept your feelings much better hidden but never cut them off. Neil was just everything you never saw in men. Sweet, cute, emotionally intelligent… His very presence made you realize just how awful, narcissistic and selfish every guy you had dated before was. 

There was something so refreshing about talking with a man whose desire to hear you moan coexisted perfectly fine with his genuine want to hear you speak. You were so beautiful and also so great to talk with. Neil seemed to know that, and it was way too good. Probably the real reason why you intended to keep your feelings at bay, despite the butterflies everytime he popped on your screen. 

Also, there was your own need for safety. No matter how sweet, Neil was still a man and a subscriber. Disclosing too much personal information was a no-go, but you found yourself stuck in the dilemma of wanting him to know you better and wanting to keep some privacy.

You had a facetime scheduled for the next day, despite your cautions you were obviously excited. A cute little purple set Neil would absolutely love hung in anticipation on your closet door at home while you ran some errands, then, a little notification sound distracted you and brought you the news:

“hey beautiful, i’m so so sorry to do this… but one of my employees had a family emergency and can’t cover their shift tomorrow at the store. no one can cover so i have to work unfortunately. i’m so sorry. i hope you’re not upset with me… i was really looking forward to seeing you. hoping we can reschedule?” - neil 

Your face fell a bit upon reading that, still, you understood. He had a business to run and was probably much more upset than you. After a pleasantly soothing reply and a request for a needed reschedule, you carried on. A few seconds and you already missed him, even if you wouldn't show it.

Night fell upon you, you crawled into your baby pink bed with your head reeling and Neil occupying every thought. One impulse was enough to get you to open google maps on your phone and type two words on the search bar: Gumshoe Video.

35 minutes away.

The highlighted blue showed you a different set of routes and transports you could use to get there. To get to him. Gears spun inside your head and then, your own mind locked your phone off. 

That night you tossed and turned in bed for what seemed hours, overthinking it all until sleep finally took over. In the morning Neil still lingered on as you went about your usual routine. The more you pushed him to the back of your head, the stronger he returned. 

Still reeling, you logged into your Onlyfans for some everyday work. When you checked your messages, skipped the creepy ones and answered to politer ones, you found one from Neil sent that morning in response to a lingerie selfie you had sent out the night before.

“god you are the most stunning woman on the planet…”

Heat rushed to your face, smiling at your screen like a schoolgirl overcome with tenderness until something clicked in your brain.

It had to be today.

Pretty much on autopilot and running on adrenaline, you scavenged your closet and tried on five different outfits, finally satisfied with a little pink top with a tiny bow in the middle and a short jean skirt perfect for a hot summer night and for pale blue eyes that loved you in pink. After redoing your hair twice and finding a beautiful reflection in the mirror, you got hold of your bag and phone and headed out towards the train station. Fast enough to not have time to psych yourself out and do a 180 turn back home. 

The train ride to the closest station to Gumshoe Video was when the doubts started to pop in your head. Questions about your own sanity or about how normal your actions were floated all around you the closer it got you to him. Did you make the right choice? Would he be actually glad to see you? What if your arrival annoyed him? Who just shows up somewhere unannounced after previously rejecting someone? Were you fucking insane? 

As you looked out at the city skyline and the war in your mind raged on something persisted: that beautiful smile of plump rosy lips and an endearingly crooked tooth on his lower jaw, that voice with warm undertones and sometimes little purrs, those beautiful eyes of blue that made you think of clear spring skies.

Not going would be insane.

****

Around 8 pm, at a very dead Gumshoe Video, Neil stood behind the counter. Bored. Absentmindedly, he seeked some entertainment by processing a few returned tapes and sometimes glancing towards the tv in the corner to catch a glimpse of the movie playing. 

He was dressed in a ridiculous jail jumpsuit costume as a way to promote the sale going on at the store that weekend. However, despite his efforts and the resourceful way he had thematically decorated his store, there were a million things he’d rather be doing on a Saturday night than be there. One in particular. Seeing his favorite girl. Watching her smile, listening to her laughter and her pretty moans…

But alas, instead of jerking off with her, he was there, all alone. Painfully aware that it would go on and on. The beautiful summer night invited people to go do anything else that wasn’t renting movies from his little store, and he knew it. Still, he couldn’t afford to go home, just in case somebody crazy or socially dead enough decided to actually come in and rent something to watch at home.

Once all the tapes were processed and back inside their cardboard or plastic sleeves, Neil disappeared into the backroom, a ring of the doorbell interrupting his thoughts.

“I'll be right out...” He called out loudly, pushing the last batch of tapes onto the shelf and pulling one out he had forgotten he had. With his gaze fixed on the synopsis, he walked back into the store to greet the customer, his heart immediately stopping when the arial print letters were replaced by the sight of an angel.

That pretty hair, those lovely eyes, a little pink top and a little short jean skirt hugging that beautiful body… It was you. Actually you.

Neil’s eyes went as wide as they could, his body froze in place for the second he spent wondering if it was his mind playing tricks on him or not. You exchanged gazes the whole time. Your hands shook like a leaf and your heart pumped madly in an anticipatory crescendo, the lines between being a tangible reality and an internet fantasy completely blurred. A part of you started to wonder just how welcomed you were or, in a rush of pure anxiety, if he was disappointed in any way.

“Hi.” You finally whispered, testing the waters and breaking the increasingly uncomfortable silence. You saw the way his spit went down his throat in a gulp of preparation and how his eyelashes fluttered twice before he finally had the courage to speak.

“You… You’re here…” Neil was in pure, utter, cute, adorable disbelief, and it got a smile and a small laugh from you.

“I am… I just wanted to see you… I took the train…” You rambled, with your head still fuzzy.

In between your own whirlwind of beautiful yet heart-thumping feelings, Neil finally walked up to you, forgetting all about the vhs tape on his hands and automatically setting it aside. Instead, his focus was on you, the very few inches between you two, the way you looked at him and studied his face up close, finally free of the veil of the computer screen. God, he was even better looking in person. His eyes were bluer, hypnotizing. His lips looked even rosier and he had cute light freckles that the camera had failed to capture. You just hoped that the amazement was mutual.

Looking down at you with those sweet pale eyes, he held your gaze, the knowledge that you were real, that you were here finally settling in.

“You are so gorgeous… Even more so in person…” He whispered, his hand already reaching out to touch yours ever so gently, just to make sure he wasn’t actually mistaken about your tangibility.

For the first time in what you were sure was forever, you got shy. Your head lowered and your face burned. Gentle sparks filled your stomach as he came up to use a finger to tilt your chin up.

“Don’t hide from me…” he whispered gently. 

Smiling softly, you looked into his eyes. 

“I can't believe you’re here” Neil continued, his voice soft and adoring. 

“I know it's kind of crazy of me to just show up but… I was just sad you couldn’t make our call…” Your voice was just as soft, his fingers laced with yours like they were meant to be there.

“I was upset too about missing it… I had been looking forward to it all week…” He admitted with a soft smile. “But now I'm even happier you’re here… You are so beautiful.” God, he was just the sweetest thing on earth. The kindest man you had ever met.

After the initial feelings, you finally allowed your eyes to discover your surroundings. Gumshoe Video was a small, cute, kitschy and very Neil Lewisesque store that the google maps pictures didn’t do justice. It was truly him transformed into a place.

“I love the store…” You smiled, your sight drawn to the tv and the old movie playing: Brief Encounter. 

“I've had it on at the store for almost a month… It makes me think of you…” Neil admitted, a callback to your first call that made your heart burst. 

“I love the outfit too…” Now you confessed, visions of gray and white stripes making you chuckle. “Prison Break vibes…” Your joke lightened the mood, he shook his head in sweet embarrassment. 

“If I would have known you’d be here… I would have never worn it…” He chuckled, Brief Encounter in the background took over for a moment as he took your presence in and embraced it.

“We close in about an hour but I could close up a little early… It’s dead anyway. Maybe we could… I don't know… Maybe watch a movie together?” He finally gathered the courage to speak with a nervous and hopeful smile. Butterflies flew wildly in your stomach and the answer was obvious.

“Yeah, I'd love that…” With that, Neil stepped away to lock the door and turn the open sign off. Officially, he was all yours for the night.

“Let me get out of this stupid costume… Go ahead and pick anything you want to watch, I'll be right back...” Neil and all his sweet smile disappeared into the back of the store, leaving you to browse the store and run your well manicured fingers over the spines of the vhs tapes. Every touch to the smooth plastic only reassured you, you were really there… with him, in all his simple short sleeve button up, black pants and converse glory that returned to the store. He was so casual yet so hot, everything yours tingled when he came over to you.

“Seeing anything you like?” He flashed you that pretty smile once again, nearly distracting you from the mental lists of titles you found interesting. 

“Seeing a few things I like…” You flirted a little as you looked right at him, less shy than earlier and coming back to yourself. A rush of satisfaction took over you when he blushed a bit.

“What about Notting Hill?” You pulled the respective tape off the shelf with a perfectly convincing smile. 

“Good pick… Very fitting for our dynamic I suppose… Just a few minor differences…” Neil winked, taking the tape and going straight to put the movie on for you. Getting comfortable on the couch, a little excited smirk formed upon your lips when he turned off the lights, making it so the tv, the sun setting outside and the numerous neon signs inside the store gave the room a dull sensual glow. 

Eventually, he sat down next to you exuding both anxiety and adoration… You were his dream girl after all… And you were in his store, on his couch, watching a romantic movie… Anything could happen…

He pressed play on the remote and you settled in, despite this being the first meeting in the flesh you felt like you belonged in his presence. 

Notting Hill rolled on and despite everything, you were focused on Neil only. His refined side profile glowed with the colors on the screen. His soft brown curls, his pink lips, and pretty blue eyes drew you in more than any movie could, no matter how great. Still, it would have been rude to not pay attention to Julia Roberts, so you snapped out of it and returned to the story… Or at least you tried.

Neil’s big hand moved to touch your exposed thigh, making your breath hitch slightly. Despite how sudden it was, the touch was so soft, so reverent, and, quite honestly, arousing. The purple lace beneath your skirt dampened. All those nights you touched yourself and imagined his hands on you seemed so distant now that you were finally there, with him. 

Did you really want to waste time?

Your eyes met in the dim light, the tension between you surviving off the licks to his own lips and the glances you gave to them. When he did the same to you, no words were needed. 

You leaned in fast, your lips finally meeting after desiring each other for so long. Electricity ran wild between your bodies, from the tips of your meeting tongues to the tips of your fingers on the back of his neck. Neil groaned softly yet gripped your thigh hard, just in case you wanted to vanish into thin air and leave him longing forever for this hot, sensual, passionate kiss you were sharing. To his relief, you got into his lap, proving to him again just how real everything was. Your tiny jean skirt rolled up even higher as you straddled his thighs, finishing with the last supply of air he had in his lungs. He had to pull back, admiring you between ragged breaths.

“Fuck you are so hot…” Neil rasped almost in disbelief, hands on your sides and cock twitching to life in his jeans. The tempting flesh of your ass got a soft squeeze that made you moan, his eyes traced a path of adoration from your parted lips all the way down to your cleavage.

“These perfect tits…” He whispered, his hand cupping one over the flimsy tank top you took ages to select and had proven to be the right choice. He squeezed it gently, his thumb rubbing over your hard nipple gently. “You are unreal…” 

With the eagerness to please he had and all the amazement you felt at his sweetness and passion, you found yourself lost in his kiss again, grinding against his lap. Neil moaned into your mouth when your hand snaked between you and squeezed the bulge in his pants. You had seen it before, you knew it was a sizable handful but no amount of pixels could actually prepare you for the feeling of it, for the way it twitched beneath the denim and your moving hand when you bit his lower lip.

“We-we should move this to my office…” Neil stammered right after pulling back for air. “Anyone can see through the front windows…” He panted.

“Mmm, naughty naughty….” You smirked, play-pretending to scold him with that sensual tone of voice he adored. “You wanna fuck me over your desk, huh?”. 

Neil’s baby blues widened a bit and he nodded with a shortness of breath.

“Jesus, yes- more than anything…” He breathed. 

“Well…Looks like it’s your lucky day…” Getting off his lap, you offered him a hand and a sexy smirk.

“Today’s already been the best day of my life… This is just the cherry on top…” He took your hand, once he was standing he wrapped an arm around you and kissed you all the way to his little office in the back. A cute, dorky, perfect cozy space that was just like him and was going to bear witness to what could happen between you behind closed (and cautiously locked) doors.

You sat on top of his desk like a throne, leaned back on your elbows just to show him everything he was about to have.

“Fuuuck me.” Neil groaned at the sight. “I need this little skirt gone…” As direct as his words, his hand undid the bronze button and zipper and tugged the denim down to your thighs before losing it somewhere. Your little purple lace thong greeted his hungry eyes and blessed his fingertip.

“Feels so good to touch after so long of just watching…” Adoring disbelief filled each of Neil’s words, sending a pulse of desire straight to your core. You looked at him, the way he stood between your parted legs and soaked in the feeling of having you laid out on his desk for him. 

“Felt good to touch your cock for the first time after just watching… Felt good in my hand… Can’t imagine how good it’ll feel when you fuck me with it…” You purred, your desire for his touch speaking through your mouth. 

He smirked, fingers hooking on the purple band of your thong and taking it to meet your lost skirt. The pink tank top followed not long after, leaving you completely naked on the cool wooden surface.

He nearly made his lip bleed from how hard he bit it, the sight of your perfect pussy and tits worth every second of wait, more so now in the flesh, in front of him and ready. 

Neil wasn’t a virgin by any means, yet his short relationships were absolutely nothing now. No previous partner, hell, not even the unreachable movie stars that he adored could ever come close to you. And he had something clear, it was not the time to shy away. It was his chance with the girl of his dreams and he would make it count.

“Jesus…” He breathed out, index and middle fingers gently parting your folds and delighting in just how wet he found you, his cock already leaking in his boxers.

“All for you…” You purred those familiar words that his speakers had whispered to him many nights before and now felt much sweeter coming straight from your lips. He smiled. All for him…

His hands immediately found his belt and did the magic trick. Belt, pants and boxers all gone in a few moments, his thick, perfectly curved, aching cock bobbing free finally. You bit your lip now, groaning at the sight of him in person, no computer screen.

“Wow…” You whispered, a bead of precum seeping from his tip, your cunt clenching around nothing. Obviously, you weren’t a virgin either, but after doing solo stuff for only fans for so long and not fucking somebody in almost a year, you were just as needy as one.

“Big enough for you?” He smirked a little, his lust filled eyes mirrored by yours. You nodded with a cheeky smile. “Condom?” He asked. “I have one in here in a drawer somewhere…” he rambled, opening a desk drawer midway through and being stopped by your hand.

“I'm on the pill… I wanna feel you… All of you…” Your sensual whisper nearly sent him over the edge, his breath hitching. 

“Fuck..” He whispered to himself, anticipation seeping through. Every inch he got closer to you was an inch that was driving him crazy. When he pulled you to the edge of his desk, his leaking tip nudged your pussy and coaxed a little moan from you. You were ready, so ready. And from the way your hearts were beating, this felt like more than just a hookup. 

A gasp escaped from your lips, his cock parted you and easily slided in from just how wet you were, all the way in until his hips kissed the inside of your thighs so intimately. 

“Oh my god…” He groaned, eyes of blue closing and head of dark brown curls falling back. You were right, big enough for you, stretching you out a bit. “You feel…” He trailed off looking back down to watch himself push deeper. “You feel like heaven…” he almost whimpered. 

You moaned louder and he filled you even fuller, finally hitting the deepest part. Locking both your gazes he laid down on top of you, face to face, squishing your tits against his clothed chest. A hot kiss took care of your sweet lips right before he started to move with an adoring slowness.

Grabbing a handful of his t-shirt, you urged him on, asking your skin to intertwine with his and feeling every bit of him with this slow pace. Neil pulled back from the kiss, lips hovering over yours, hips pistoning a little faster. 

“You feel so fucking good…” He whispered into your lips. “So tight and fucking hot…”

The word “hot” mixed with a loud moan from you, your mouth hung open to catch more of his fiery licks. With the increasing speed, Neil found the right pace. The rightest, most delicious pace that didn’t leave you wishing for more nor hurt you from its urgency. It was just perfect.

“Neil…” You whimpered, a hand tangling in his curls and guiding his head to rest in the crevice of your neck where he planted hot, wet kisses. You arched into him, into his thrusts and addictive touch. Finally knowing what it was like. 

From the crevice to your ear, Neil nibbled, kissed and licked, his warm breath tickled your lobe before whispering softly. 

“You are so perfect… I just wanna make you come…  Make you feel so good…” You moaned in response, all the never-felt-before passion and attention nearly taking the words off you. “I want this pretty pussy to come all over my cock baby…” your wet, fluttering pussy clenched to the beat of those words, luring him and making him groan too.

“I want you to come too…” With your capacity to string a coherent sentence back, you whined. You were begging so softly, squeezing him so needily, taking him to places he only saw in his fantasies, and making him feel so aware of how little he was going to last.

He moved his hips faster, reflecting your own desperation for sweet release. Skin slapped against skin and filled the room with erotic noises you didn’t even fully process from the feeling of everything combined. Neil pulled back, standing to fuck you onto the desk and giving you a good view. Big hands gripped your hips for support and he pounded into you, making the delicious flesh of your tits bounce and the tip of his cock hit the right places.

“Fuck me… You are the sexiest thing I've ever seen...” He groaned out of breath, sweetly worming into your ears and hooking you to his praises forever. That familiar pressure tightened your lower abdomen and made you whimper.Addicted, Neil went back to lay chest to chest with you, not wanting to miss a thing. The tips of your noses gently rubbed together, mingling your breaths, his cock speared you over and over again and as much as it could with the way you had his hips held with your legs. He went deeper, impossibly deeper.

“Oh fuck.. I-I’m not gonna last much longer baby… You feel so fucking good…” His warning whisper kissed you on the lips, the proof manifested in the form of urgent snaps of his hips. 

“I'm-I’m close too, Neil…” You whimpered, eyes half lidded. “Please, come deep…” And those three words were enough to make his mind go blank.

The ultimate fantasy, the dream girl, the actual dream. Begging him, him, to come inside her. Neil never once stood a chance at holding out. Thick digits snaked between you and thumbed your clit in hard, reason-killing circles. So hard, so intense, you nearly confused the light freckles on his face with stars.

“Come for me baby…” he panted softly, begging you. 

Your eyes squeezed shut, the pressure in your depths bubbled over and spilled. Your loud moan reverberated in the small room and enveloped you, the sound waves rippled over the curve of your arching back and traced the shape of your hands clawing at him over his shirt. 

“Holy shit…” He groaned at the feeling of your already tight cunt clenching him even tighter. “Fuck, i’m coming too...” he confessed with a straining voice. His eyes shut tight and his hips slowed to a stop when his aching cock pulsed with need inside you.

His pretty face buried against your neck and left an offering of loving kisses and soft whispered praises as you rode out your orgasms together. 

“Oh my god…  Take it all baby… I think this pussy was made for me…” He whispered, peppering kiss after kiss on your skin and painting your pussy white. Your eager spasms made sure that not a single drop was left without your intoxicating warmth.

When you both finished and his ragged breaths caressed your neck, he remained there, buried deep inside and fully processing it all, rosy lips still kissing you. Once he had recovered enough air, he gazed into your eyes, gave you one last kiss while still connected with you and finally pulled out. 

He was amazed and wide eyed, his hot cum seeping out of your pussy was truly a sight plucked straight from his dreams, and you were well aware.

“How does it look?” You whispered with what little breath you had. Neil took a second to answer, having to blink the hypnosis of your leaking cunt away from his eyes just to be able to find words inside his brain.

“It looks incredible…” With a husky voice and disbelief, he whispered. He had never fucked anyone raw before, much less came inside them… Something inside him had been stirred and changed forever and he didn’t even have all the words he would need to describe it.

You looked him over, he eventually had to stop studying the creampie he had given you just to admire the rest of your beauty sprawled out on his desk just for him. Something upon his face irradiated love and amazement.

There was a random movie t-shirt in his office that he was grateful he had there, he gently used it to clean you up and, unknowingly, confirm once more just how sweet he was. Any other man would have thrown it at you and made you do it yourself. Neil would never. He wiped with so much care until everything between and beneath you was clean and the t-shirt balled up and tossed aside. 

Next, he got dressed, tucking his tired and well spent cock back into his pants, just decent enough to bend down and gather every piece of your clothing strewn all over his office. He handed them to you so kindly, keeping his eyes on you until you were dressed again and he could break the silence. 

“That was…” He started to speak, almost distracted by the way you walked up to him and wrapped your loving arms around his neck.

“Perfect?” You finished his sentence with a smile. He laughed, arms wrapping around your hips.

“I was gonna say a dream come true… but perfect works too…” Neil whispered with his face only inches apart from yours, inciting you into a lovingly intimate butterfly kiss and then a little peck. Pulling back, he tucked a portion of your hair behind your ear and with the same hand cupped your cheek. So delicately. You were precious to him.

“Would you like to come back to my place? Spend the night? I live right down the road… I just want to hold you…  If not i understa-“ he started and you cut him off, sure of your answer this time.

“I'd love to.” You said immediately, enjoying the way his eyes lit up.

No more hiding from your feelings for him. No more pretending you didn’t reciprocate.

“Are you ready to go then?” He asked softly, like the gentleman he was and had always been since day one. Smiling, you took his hand, letting him guide you to the back exit, until you sat on the passenger’s seat of his car. In front of the steering wheel, he took a second to admire you, to, once again, confirm that you were real. Not thinking about it, he leaned over the center console and gave you a soft kiss before he took you to his place.

“Sorry… I just had to…” He said so sweetly you could have melted all over the seats and console. You gave him another little kiss for good measure, and you buckled in, sightseeing the suburbs until a forest green house with the number 621 appeared in the distance.

You couldn’t help but wonder how things would go in there. How would you feel in the morning? How would he feel in the morning? Was the mystery and fantasy over now that he had gotten a taste? Now that it was clear you were into him, was the high of chase over for him? What would happen now that it’s all real life? What's next for you?

Thoughts swirled in your head and before you realized it, he was pulling into his driveway, giving your hand a little squeeze.

“We’re here.” He said, turning to look at you with that perfect bright smile you’ve loved since your first call. “You ready to go inside, beautiful?” 

Pinterest board made by @fuckiingloser

[itsnathateasy]

hiiiii!! i really love your blog and i was wondering if i could request aot characters being jealous?? 🫶🫶

Hiiii anon! 🫶 This was such a fun request to write, thank you for sharing it with me! Hope you enjoy this!🪷

aot characters being jealous 🤨

warnings: eren kinda needs to be slapped, alcohol consumption in mikasa’s word count: 4,1k includes: eren, armin, mikasa, connie, jean, reiner, bertholdt, hange, erwin a/n: idk why i decided to call bertholdt bertie, idk if i’ve done that before but in my head, that’s his name (apart from birth control, burrito, boruto, boomshakalaka and the lot)

You don’t need me to tell you that Eren will pick up a fight if he gets the slightest clue that he doesn’t have your undivided attention. You smiled at the waiter? What for? Was he to your liking? Why are you on the phone again? I’m here with you, no need to speak with anyone else. He’s too possessive and even though that’s a trait you liked at first, it was steadily choking you. It’s not that he wouldn’t allow you to do things like go out or be on the phone with people he didn’t know personally, but he’d made it his life mission to get to know all of your friends or to always check on you when you weren’t together. He did demand that you sent him pictures and videos of where you were or who you were with though. The final straw was when you caught him going through your phone. You’d spent the night together and you’d just woken up. But it felt too early. Your body was still stiff from not getting the rest you needed and your eyelids felt heavy. You lazily turned over and reached for his warm body, draping your arm around his waist. “You up, y/n?” You responded with a mumble that could mean anything, slowly drifting into sleep again. You were woken by the buzzing of a phone along with a constant turn on and off of a white light. You opened your eyes and realised it was just Eren on your phone… Going through YOUR messages! “Eren what the fuck?” You snapped awake and yelled as best as you could, your voice raspy with sleep. “No worries, y/n, you’re clean.” He said matter-of-factly, still checking some more messages. “What the hell? Of course I’m clean! Why would you do that?” You screamed and snatched your phone from his hands, practically stepping all over him in order to reach the device. “Just had to make sure, y/n!” “When you want to make sure you ask me, you don’t go through my private stuff!”

Armin is so the type to be silently jealous. He notices that you’re smiling while on your phone or that maybe you were extra careful about your hair and make up but he doesn’t voice his concern. He’ll simply compliment you on your looks and on the outfit you picked. He’ll even go as far as to wish you a good time. The entire time when you’re gone, he’ll check your socials, see if you’ve posted anything or if any of your mutual friends has posted you on their stories. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t text you any more than what he normally would. What if he made you suspicious of his behaviour? Then he wouldn’t be able to find anything out! When you’re finally home – much later than usual – he pretends to still be working on his laptop. Unfazed, he asks you about your night out, did you have fun? Where did you go? Did you like that place? The little shit will even ask you to cuddle him while you tell him all about your night. “You know what, I can’t keep it a secret any longer, Armin. I’m sorry you weren’t invited, but me and the girls were helping Ymir propose to Historia, she even hired a photographer and the lot! She’ll tell you all about it soon, I’m sure they’re busy having fun right now!” Armin looked back at you, startled. It all checked out! If Ymir had hired professionals for the proposal, then it’d make sense that you were too meticulous about your appearance or why you never posted anything about tonight. “Wow, y/n… I feel so stupid now… I literally thought you’d gone on a date, I was losing my mind over here!” He pulled you closer with his arm around your neck and kissed the top of your head. “First of all, why would I ever cheat on you?” You pulled away from the soft lock he held you in and removed his laptop from his legs to set it on the living room table in front of you. “And secondly, if I was to cheat, do you really think you’d be able to tell this easily?” You smirked at him and noticed the colour draining from his face. “Y/n, don’t say that, it’s not funny. How’d you do it then?” He requested to which you only laughed. “You’ll spoil the fun if you know beforehand! Let’s just say I’d be way more smart than getting ready for my lover in front of you!” “Y/n you don’t mean that! Say you don’t mean that!” He said, his voice annoyed but also not too confident. Were you being honest? He had to know!

You didn’t know Mikasa could get jealous, but you found out about it that one time you got monumentally drunk. Hanging out for a beer was normal for your friend group, even though it wasn’t always possible for all of you to actually gather. When you did, it was the best night out! Normally, you’d let Mikasa catch up with Eren and Armin while you focused on the people you didn’t get to see quite as often. It was a short break for you and Mikasa, a deal you’d both agreed to keep when you were with your mutual friends. You were catching up with Connie and Historia and lost yourself in your conversations, your laughters. You didn’t know what number beer you’d just chugged, but you three were ordering another round, cackling at one of Connie’s hilarious jokes as you raised your hand towards the waiter. You noticed Mikasa eyeing you from the table she occupied with Eren. She gave you a crooked smile and a thumbs up, but she seemed a bit weird. You completely forgot about the look on her face the moment your pints landed in front of you on the table. “Cheers to us!” Yelled Connie as he raised his pint in the air, clinking it with your and Historia’s. You were so giddy with the beer, your jokes and the laughs you were sharing that you felt like hugging them. Sliding your arms around their shoulders, you pulled them both closer to you, your heads banging in the process. “I really love you guys! We should do this more often!” Connie and Historia intertwined their arms as well, forming an odd three-way hug. “We really should, y/n! Mikasa! Come, join our group hug!” Historia exclaimed breaking contact with you as Mikasa slid in the narrow space between the two of you. “It’s time to go, y/n.” She said, not joining in the hug and reaching for the place where yours and Connie’s arm were touching to pull them apart. “Mikasa NO! Let’s stay, we’re having so much fun!” You offered her a sip from your beer but she only glared at you with red eyes. “Y/n. It’s late. You’re drunk. We’re going home!” She demanded. She stood up before you could say anything and helped you on your feet as well, moving a bit further from the table you were previously sat at. “I don’t wanna leave just yet, Mikasa! Why can’t we stay?” You felt yourself slurring the words. Maybe Mikasa was right. How many beers did you have anyway? “Y/n, you’re drunk and when that happens you start… Hugging people...” She fixed your hair as she asked Historia about your jacket and bag. “What’s wrong with hugging my friends, Mikasa? Just because you and Eren and Armin never hug, doesn’t mean I’m not gonna hug you know?” You protested as she helped you put on your jacket and awkwardly hang your bag on your shoulder. “Nothing wrong with hugging, y/n. But after that, you start making out with people and I’m not particularly fond of that.” You stood still as you realised what she was saying. “That’s unfair, Mikasa! That hasn’t happened since the night we got together!” “That’s my point, y/n! You made out with me because you were drunk! You said so yourself! You were too scared to ask me out!” She was being serious, that much you could tell. You smirked at her and she raised an eyebrow. “So, Mikasa… Is this your way to say you wanna make out or something?”

Connie doesn’t get jealous, not how you’d expect one to get jealous at least. He’s too cocky for this type of behaviour. Even if he had ‘signs’ that you might be unfaithful, he’d play along with you. Questions like “How’s that new man of yours been doing?” were a common occurrence whenever he thought he had clues pointing to that. You were fed up with his stupidity. Joking about it once was funny, but having him try to persuade you that you were having a secret affair was too much. It was getting rather annoying, so you confronted him about it, asking him if he really believed you weren’t loyal to him. Of course, Connie just laughs at this, which annoys you tenfold. “Why would you even cheat on me? I’m giving you everything you ask for!” Cocky. “That’s exactly my point, Connie! I’m not cheating on you, I’ve no reason to! Why do you go on with this stupid game of yours? Are you cheating and trying to pin it on me instead? This is too much of a mindfuck for me to fathom!” Connie’s eyes grew wider at your confession, he noticed how you were being serious about this, how you were actually upset. “Hey, hey… I just thought it was funny, you know? Just messing with you a bit… I never meant for it to get this far, I’m sorry I didn’t realise sooner…” He pulled you closer and gave you a hug, then a soft peck on your temple. “Where did you even get the idea? What did I do?” You inquired, eager to properly sort this out. “Ah, I don’t know… You’re always laughing on the phone. But like too much… I usually brush it off, it might be some of your friends. But then you started getting annoyed at me whenever I commented on that, so I kept pushing.” You sighed, not yet leaving his arms as he rested his head on top of yours. “Well Connie, had the allegations been true, I’d be cheating on you with funny cat videos on TikTok.” You admitted and laughed with how silly you’d both been about this misunderstanding. “Wait, y/n, that’s actually quite the rival! You’re not allowed to watch any more cat videos from now on!” He joked and poked your cheek. “Unless we watch them together, of course!”

Jean gets jealous alright. The thing is, he’s having such a hard time admitting it. You’ve been spending extra time with some childhood friends of yours that were back in town for the weekend, so you told Jean you wouldn’t be much around. After all, you didn’t get to see those people often. What with living in different cities, working and the lot, it was difficult. Jean was understanding, of course, Jean is nothing if not understanding and loving towards you. But it was eating him from the inside out. It wasn’t even noon yet and you’d been with your friends for around 3 hours by now. No texts, no calls. Yet, you were extremely active on social media. And one of your friends looked really cute. The kind of cute you’d go for. After some digging – yes, he even checked your facebook page back from 2012 – he found out that you two had actually dated… For an entire year?? Why wouldn’t you mention that one of the people you were to meet was an ex? Sure, he’d mind it anyway, but he’d rather know in advance than have to find out about it himself! “Hey please call me when you see this y/n!” He texted. A few minutes passed and you hadn’t even read the text. “It’s urgent, please call me!!!” Still no response. After a series of emojis aiming to get your attention, you finally check your phone and let him know that you’d call him in a couple of minutes. As patient as he could be - he couldn’t. His foot was tapping like crazy, the nail of his thumb displayed visible damage from his insistent biting and nibbling. The phone rang and Jean had never in his life picked up as fast as now. “Hey Jean! What’s wrong? Everything alright?” You asked, still not quite sure what this was about. “Why didn’t you tell me you and that guy were dating when you were younger?” Your laughter was the only answer he’d get for a few seconds. “I’m serious, y/n! You should’ve told me!” “Jean, okay, how did you even find out about this?” “That’s what’s troubling you, y/n? I checked your facebook! I had to know who I’ up against!” “Jean, you’re being dramatic. Tell me, mr detective guy, why would I tell you about a guy I was dating when I was 15? That doesn’t even count as a relationship!” Jean didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t realised he’d scrolled that far back or that it might have been a minor thing. Realising he had no reason to be jealous, he apologised for the hundreds of emojis he’d sent you earlier. “No need to apologise, Jean! It’s fine, really! Just… Check the dates when you do your digging, okay?” “Hope I won’t need to again, y/n. Have fun with your friends!”

Reiner is the type of jealous person that kinda loses it and panics. He’s not even sure why he’s acting like this. You’ve reassured him close to a million times, yet he can’t shake the thought out of his head. The audacity of that person to comment an aubergine emoji on your recent post was simply the cherry on top of his list of insecurities. “Reiner! Snap out of it!” You had to actually snap your fingers and wave your palm in front of his face to pull him out of his trance. “Sorry, sorry, y/n, I just… That was so… I don’t know, it still bugs me...” Sighing, you leaned over him, placing your head on his shoulder. “I deleted the comment and blocked them. You can check my phone if it makes you feel any better. But anyway, that person had no reason to do that. I haven’t seen or spoken to them in years!” You quickly pecked his cheek, eager that the episode was over, but alas. “Apparently, it’s a lot different in their head, y/n! And that emoji very well indicates what kind of thoughts they were having...” He yelled at you, taking you by surprise. Sure, he wasn’t the most confident person, but this was unusual of him. You pulled up the chair and sat next to him, your arm on his lower back. “Hey… No need to worry, I promise you. It’s nothing serious and it means nothing on my end, Reiner. Do you understand?” He avoided your gaze and instead took interest in pinching the inside of his thumb. Placing your hand on top of his, you ceased his terrible habit. Defeat, he sighed. “Consciously, I know I shouldn’t be jealous, y/n. But then my thoughts start racing… What gave them the audacity to comment that? Have they been thinking about you often? H- Have they… Touched themselves to the thought of you? That makes me physically sick, I can’t stand it… And you can’t tell me people aren’t perverted like that, because you know they are… And then I can’t stop these thoughts from coming back to me.” You caressed his back, taking in his confession and understanding the depth of all he’d just admitted to you. “I can’t make the thoughts stop, but I’m here to remind you that this person is blocked. And every person who acts like this on my accounts is, also, automatically blocked. I don’t want that kind of attention from anyone else but you, okay?” He gave you a loving look as the words sank in. Moving his hand to your face to touch your chin, he softly pulled you towards him to kiss you. “From now on, that’s my mantra, y/n.”

Bertholdt is the one to mention you’ve been getting unwanted attention because, honestly, you hadn’t even noticed it! He doesn’t understand the concept of jealousy. Working as an events coordinator included having to talk to a variety of people for a bunch of things. It was a stressful job, but the fact that Bertholdt worked beside you made everything manageable. Today’s event was hectic: A live radio production covering a charity marathon. The streets were packed with people, everyone was loud and moving up and down like crazy. It must’ve been a solid hour before you last caught glimpse of your Bertie and that wasn’t usually a problem. But today, your biggest sponsor kept bugging you about everything. He wouldn’t let you breathe and actually followed you around as you were checking with your colleagues that everything was set to go. After trying to avoid him for the millionth time, your eyes finally landed on Bertie as he was giving the final instructions to one of the producers. “Let’s go talk to Bertholdt about your issue!” You grabbed the sponsor’s arm and literally dragged him towards Bertholdt. “There you are! Been looking all over for you two!” Exclaimed Bertie as he noticed you and the sponsor walking to him. “Mr Hoover, we were just wandering about this minor detail, would you mind going over it with us once more?” You asked, trying your best to give him an eye signal about the sponsor. You weren’t sure if he got it, but a few seconds later he walked with him to one of the promo booths and introduced him to someone. You saw them shaking hands, then Bertie came back to you. “Has he been bothering you long, y/n?” He asked kissing your temple. “Yes… He’s been insufferable… How did you know?” Bertie chuckled and leaned to reach your ear. “He’s been talking my ear off about you for days… Said he wants to ask you out by the end of the event!” That made the both of you laugh and hold your tummies. “You’re not serious Bertie, are you? We’re literally called ‘Hoover and y/l/n! Hasn’t he seen our wedding rings?” In-between laughter Bertie spoke. “No clue! But I couldn’t spill the beans! Not after he told me all about you, how sweet and pretty you are! I couldn’t bear to be so cruel!” Attempting to contain your giggling – with little success – you’re brought back to reality by the suddenly serious expression on Bertie’s face. “Shut up, y/n! Here he comes!” “We’re in for a treat… Shouldn’t we wait until the event is over?” The more you spoke, the closer the sponsor got to where you and Bertie stood. “Damn, y/n! And I thought I was being unethical for not letting him know about us, but you’re the real deal!”

Hange doesn’t get jealous, but because they don’t really see the signs? They’re so confident about you, they just know you wouldn’t do that. You’d been trying your hardest to make them jealous, as a game of course, but they never really got the cue! You and Historia had even set up a fake profile of a person texting you constantly, your final attempt to see how Hange would react. Your phone lit up with another two texts and a voice message from your admirer. Enough was enough so you decided to be vocal about the incident. “Ugh, I just can’t believe this person… I just don’t understand why they won’t stop texting me… They’re really bothering me, Hange!” At that, Hange’s face was instantly turned towards you from where they were brewing their coffee on the kitchen counter. “Who are we talking about, y/n? You’ve never mentioned them before, are they a friend of youurs?” “We used to date but they keep hitting me up every now and then… I guess they’re not over me yet...” Letting the spoon they were holding hit the counter, they turned fully and walked towards you. “Okay, y/n, this sounds serious. What do you need me to do? Track them down? Call the police? Go find them myself? How serious is this ‘annoying’ y/n? Let me see!” Before you could respond, they took your phone away from you and began scrolling up on your and ‘your admirer’s’ chat. “Y/n, why would you send them the droplets emoji? Isn’t that exclusive for our chats?” “That’s your only problem, Hange?” You requested, utterly disappointed that not even a fake profile sending you thirsty messages was enough to get them going. “Ugh, it’s not even real, Hange, don’t worry… It’s just this profile me and Historia created. I wanted to see if you’d get jealous, but, apparently, I’m incapable of it!” You exclaimed in defeat, face buried in your hands as Hange laughed it out. “Okay, okay, y/n, but let me get this straight… How did you expect me to get jealous over text messages that I didn’t even know existed – even if they were real - and secondly, why would I be jealous about you shifting your attention from me when you’re, quite literally, all over me all the time?” “Why are you the one complaining, Hange? Shouldn’t I be all over you?” “You very well should, but how can I be jealous of potential opponents when you always show me you love me?” You both fell silent for a few seconds, you at loss for words and Hange expecting a response. “I hate how you won’t fall for any prank, Hange!”

Erwin swears he doesn’t get jealous because “it’s not the right thing to do” and “he trusts you too much” anyway. But whenever someone looks at you a little more than usual, it’s game over. For them! You were having Sunday brunch at your usual spot. Enjoying your breakfast with Erwin was usually the highlight of your week, except for when he was in the mood to fight the waiters because “they were staring too long” or complimented you. “He wasn’t, Erwin. And besides, that was literally just Peter. We’ve been coming here almost every Sunday morning for two years. We know Peter and he knows we’re together! Or not to pick a fight with you...” You mumbled the last part, hoping it wasn’t audible, but Erwin’s eyes widening was proof of the opposite. “What was that, y/n? Why would he need to pick a fight with me?” You scoffed, determined to not let this outburst of his to last more than it should. It was your day together after all! “Peter has served us a million times, Erwin. You’re always equally nice to him, except for when he gives me a compliment!” “He has no reason to be giving you compliments, y/n. That’s for me to do.” He explained sternly, cutting one more bite out of his pancake. “He also complimented you, but of course, that doesn’t matter, does it...” You sighed, setting your cutlery down. “I don’t wanna fight about this again, Erwin. You’ve no reason to be jealous. It was just a compliment from a guy that means nothing to me.” Setting his own cutlery down, he reached for your hand and held it. “I just don’t like it when people look at you… Like that… Can’t blame them, you’re wonderful! But I’d rather they kept their thoughts to themselves… I don’t want to fight either, y/n. Are we good?” “We’re good! But you know that other people can like… Perceive me and stuff?” He chuckled at your words, satisfied that your little argument never escalated to anything more than that. “I know. Sadly, I can’t keep you all to myself.” He gave you a sweet smile and went back to cutting his pancake, offering you his bite. “Well, no need to worry about other people’s failed attempts to flirt with me. I’m ‘for your eyes only’, as the poets have said.” You smirked as you took the bite he offered you. “Y/n, I swear to god, if you keep on quoting One Direction, we’ll have to re-evaluate our relationship.” He said in his strict voice. “Aw, but you’re such a fast learner! So quick to pick up on my reference!” You giggled at his face, trying so hard to keep on playing strict but holding back his laughter to the best of his ability. “You’ll be the death of me, y/n.”

[woozisguitar]

I just saw the orpheus and hades and the post you reblogged, istg I have no idea what it is about but it got me sooo intrigued.

so, here come the request for the 200 followers event, seungcheol as hades, a trope done very mostly, but it's just one specific moment from the Greek mythology that you'd looove so much.

anon I hope you know you unleashed something in me and i cant thank you enough 😭 what a time to write this when im riding off my hadestown/ epic high giving you a little kiss on the forehead (with consent ofc!) okay so hades doesnt really have any major myths/ stories (other than the persephone lore) so i decided to do a small lore kinda thing! really hope you like it!!!!

(long a/n below so feel free to skip that!!! tl;dr: me talking about future projects tbh)

please note: this is NOT lore/ myth accurate. the original myth has a lot of concerning themes and I wanted to focus more on like the longing and yearning bit. this is definitely inspired but in no way accurate!

requests for 200 celebration post: closed

warnings: its based on greek mythology 😭 , being alone and sad, Demeter is a terrible mom, very very toxic, mentions of kidnapping, hints at manipulating/ lying, tbh this explores more of seungcheol as hades's character but it is still x persephone! reader, animal injury (nothing too much in detail tho!), swearing, lmk if I missed any!

hades! seungcheol who was bored and unimpressed when tasked with taking care of the underworld, while his brothers took over the sky and sea. he knew the underworld was a dark and lonely place, and being given the ‘duty’ to take care of such a place felt more like a punishment than a reward. still, he guarded his expressions and took over his new eternal job.

hades! seungcheol who was glad to be able to spend some time away from the dark underworld at mount olympus. being around well, alive people, made him feel better than being surrounded by dead corpses.

hades! seungcheol who was hurt as fuck when his brothers suggested that he should stay in the underworld full time, unless called upon, because his presence made everything ‘dark, gloomy and smell like death.’

hades! seungcheol who accepted his fate of being lonely for the rest of his long, immortal life. on one of his visits to a village that was epidemic to a disease, he found a small puppy whimpering in the corner. he didn't seem too hurt, but seungcheol decided to check if the pup had other injuries. when he approached, he realized this was no ordinary puppy but one who had 3 heads.

hades! seungcheol who took the puppy to the underworld, tended to its small scratches and wounds. the pup, after taking a liking to seungcheol, decided to stay around and for the first time in his life, he had someone who decided to stay willingly. he initially wanted to name it spot, because of a big spot in the middle of its back, but decided to name it cerberus. after all, this was the puppy of the king of the underworld.

hades! seungcheol who spent the rest of his time apart from work, playing and training cerberus and building his empire. when he was given the underworld, no one really knew what it was like. with absolute chaos and no authoritarian power in control, this place was a mess to fix. from making 3 sectors, elysium, a paradise for the good; tartarus, a black pit for the bad; and the asphodel meadows, which numbed the minds of the dead, after a decision is taken on a soul to deciding where a soul would belong, seungcheol had a lot of work to do if he wanted to establish himself as king.

hades! seungcheol constructed a systematic governing system for the underworld, after aeons of working hard, no idea about how much time had passed aboveground. and even after all these years, he felt an ache, a longing in his heart. all his siblings had found themselves partners, or decided to dedicate their time to duties, if they weren't too keen on a romantic partnership. all but seungcheol. he would stay up fantasizing about meeting someone someday and perhaps falling in love with them. the blurred face in his dreams haunted him on most nights, but when he woke up, all the signs and traces of this person disappeared, leaving seungcheol alone in his solitude.

hades! seungcheol who first saw you picking flowers in the fields outside olympus. he was summoned by zeus to discuss some things, not that he really cared. he knew his siblings well enough to know this was yet another temper tantrum. still, he was bored out of his mind in the underworld and decided to humor them this once. on his way to the palace, he saw you collecting flowers with other nymphs and was absolutely smitten by you. the way you were giggling with other nymphs, picking each flower with absolute precision, almost as if to ensure you wouldn't hurt it. seungcheol saw the way your eyes shone in the sunlight and the way the wind fluttered your hair. now, seungcheol wasn't one to fall for someone the first time he saw them. but you, you were different. the nymphs around you took notice of his presence and before they would alert him, he shadow traveled the rest of his way to the palace.

hades!seungcheol who for the love of all gods could not stop thinking about you. he did his ground research after reaching olympus. decades of staying away meant he missed a lot of new gods and events. he found that you were persephone, goddess of spring and daughter of demeter (yikes!). he also found that demeter was rather possessive of her daughter, not allowing her to wander too far or for any of the gods to interact with you without her permission first (double yikes!).

hades!seungcheol who had somehow convinced himself that the best person to ask for advice was his playboy of a brother, zeus. seungcheol saw zeus alone in the throne room, later in the evening, and decided to ask him at once. zeus saw him approach and his eyes lit up, “hades! how are you, my brother!” seungcheol internally cringed at the name zeus used. when he and his siblings took over the reign, they decided to use more god-like names. but seungcheol could never forget the soft murmur of his mother’s voice naming him seungcheol and the faint screams of her agony when his father ate him. seungcheol shook his head to get rid of the memories and walked up to his brother. “i’m well, zeus. how are you?” “i’m great! as great as the most powerful being in this universe could be, i suppose,” his booming laughter made seungcheol wince. such a prick. “so tell me, to what do i owe this pleasure?” seungcheol tightened his jaw, giving himself the last boost of confidence, and uttered, “i need your help in impressing a girl.” a devious grin took over zeus’s face. “well, you’ve come to the right person! and who is this pretty lady you’re planning to charm, my brother?” “persephone... goddess of spring,” seungcheol muttered, looking away. “persephone?? demeter’s daughter persephone?? oh, she’s going to turn you into wheat and feed you to her cattle,” zeus shook his head before his eyes lit up again. “well, there is one way, but it’s rather ... unethical.” when seungcheol motioned for him to continue, he said, “you could, you know, kidnap her and take her to the underworld. that's your realm after all.”

hades!seungcheol who wasn’t sure if he was mad at zeus for suggesting this or mad at himself for even considering it. he weighed the pros and cons before deciding to fuck it. he would deal with the aftermath later, yeah sure. he devised a totally foolproof, amazing plan where he would kidnap you from the fields you would often pick and plant flowers in during the early hours of the day so no one would notice him. curse his dramatics, he couldn’t help but ‘appear’ in front of you from the shadows, startling you. you jumped in fear when you saw a stranger appear from the shadow of the trees, but having heard his legends, you instantly knew this was hades, king of the underworld. he was wearing a black three-piece suit, his hair fixed to perfection. he looked slightly out of place in your field, but you were too scared to take notice. dropping in a small bow, you greeted him. “king hades, to what do i owe this visit?” hades cocked his head to the side and reminded you a bit of a lost puppy. “please, ditch the formalities. you know me?” you stood up straight and nodded at his question. “well, i’ve heard legends about you so…” you mumbled the last part, suddenly feeling flush. hades threw his head back and let out a hearty laugh before straightening up again. “very well then, persephone, goddess of spring, i fear i have to take you to the underworld with me. you see, i wish to have a garden in my home but with no sun or fertility down there, it’s hard to grow anything,” hades pouted and looked at you. “but surely the goddess of spring can pull some strings and help me out?” you contemplated his request for a moment. you knew your mother was very strict, never allowing you to leave this field or home without permission. maybe this was your one chance to see the world beyond by the grace of fates. you saw hades still pouting and looking at you with a silent request in his eyes. eh, i'll get mother to calm down when i come back, you thought to yourself. “alright, i’ll come with you, my lord.” “ah, very well then, let’s go,” hades snapped his fingers and a portal to the underworld opened with a chariot led by shadow-like horses. “and by the way, please call me seungcheol.”

hades!seungcheol who felt his heart beat right out of his chest with you seated next to him on his chariot, gazing at everything in fascination. seungcheol was a man who believed in romance, and the idea of even forming a friendship with you on the foundations of a lie made him feel more guilty than the worst sinner in the fields of punishment. when the two of you got off his chariot on the grounds of his palace, you took a minute to absorb everything around you. seungcheol, on the other hand, stared at the faint glow around you. this dark, gloomy palace felt so much lighter with you around. the thought of watching you planting and picking flowers made him feel a small ball of light in his chest, but the guilt of lying gnawed its way through. he was about to ask you if you’d like to see the rest of his palace when a loud, happy bark tore through the silence. seungcheol saw cerberus run towards you at full speed, knocking you to the ground with the sheer force of his happy zoomies. you giggled when the three-headed pup tried to lick your face all at the same time and you tried to pet all three heads at once. guess he wanted someone new too, huh. seungcheol smiled at the sight. “well, that's cerberus. come on, boy, let her breathe.” cerberus walked back, hopping between you and his owner, his happy barks filling the air. you let out a disbelieving laugh. “this good boy is the scary, guard of the underworld, hound of hades?” you said in a baby voice, petting cerberus, who let out a woof to agree in response. “come on now, let me show you the rest of the palace and the garden.” hades!seungcheol who felt restless throughout the tour while you looked around in awe. he felt pride in knowing that you were so amazed by something he spent aeons building from scratch. cerberus followed the two of you, letting out a happy bark every now and then. when you reached the garden, seungcheol couldn’t hold it in anymore. the guilt of lying was eating away at him in the worst possible way. “persephone, there's something i have to tell you,” he said as the three of you entered the garden. you nodded at him to continue, and he told you everything, from seeing you for the first time to zeus’s suggestion. “i-i really like you, persephone, and i know it's stupid because we don’t know each other, and i don’t know what i was thinking listening to my stupid brother, but i just couldn’t live without telling you the truth,” he finished slightly out of breath. you nodded, taking it all in. you knew all about how the gods would claim to love then leave, but seungcheol’s honesty made you want to give him a chance. plus, it’s not every day the king of the underworld ends up liking you. getting tired of the same field and flowers, you decided to give this a chance with seungcheol. you walked closer to him and whispered, “i would like you to call me y/n.”

hades!seungcheol who bid you farewell with a heavy heart. he told you that if you want to keep coming back, you’d have to eat the fruit of the underworld, pomegranate seeds. you smirked and took a handful, popping them in your mouth. after spending a few hours exploring his palace, you decided it was time to go back before your mother wrecked havoc on the world. you and seungcheol had an odd arrangement. on some days, you would come down to him and spend the early morning walking around his palace, and on other days, he would visit you late at night, and you would show him your field. giggling away in hiding, for the longest time the two of you didn’t feel completely alone in a room full of people. seungcheol made a point to attend all the stupid parties the gods hosted in hopes of catching you there. a sneaking look, a fleeting smile was enough to make both your hearts flutter. one night, seungcheol was on his way to see you, but when he knocked on your window, your mother demeter opened it. he saw you trying to hide behind her, tears stained on your cheeks. seungcheol felt an unexplainable urge to hurt whoever did this to his beloved, and the shadows around the room bent towards him. demeter felt the power surge but held her ground. “persephone, go to my room,” she said, giving her no chance to argue. with one last look at seungcheol, you walked out, leaving him alone with your mother. “what do you want from her?” demeter growled. “nothing wrong, i promise. i want to marry your daughter. i-i love her.” “don’t fucking lie to me, hades. i know the likes of you. all you dogs are the same,” she spat out. “you leave her the fuck alone. i don’t care what games you’re trying to play, but she will be no part of it.” “i’m not like them,” seungcheol whispered, “I really, really love her. you can ask her yourself. i never pressured her into doing anything and i never will. demeter, please, i’m not trying to play any games, i swear.” hades!seungcheol who, for the first time in his long life, went down on his knees to beg your mother. demeter watched as one of the big three, king of the underworld realm, begged on his knees. with distaste, she told him to follow. when she entered, she asked you, “did he ever try to do something to you? and don’t you dare try to cover for him because i will know,” she gave you a pointed look. you looked at seungcheol, who was already staring at you. “n-no. he never did anything i wasn’t comfortable with, i swear, mother, i lov-” demeter cut you off by showing her hand as if to say enough. she turned her back towards you, and seungcheol slowly approached, sneaking an arm around you. “very well then, since hades here,” she sneered, “claims to love you and you love him, i approve of this marriage.” equally wide smiles broke out on both yours and seungcheol’s faces. “but,” your mother continued, “you will spend only half of the year, six moon cycles, with him. after that, you will come back to me. you are, after all, the goddess of spring, and the aboveworld needs you more than the land of the dead,” she ended bitterly, almost like the word itself left a terrible taste in her mouth. you tried to argue how it was unfair, but she held her hand up. “it is this or nothing,” she said with a tone of finality. before you could try to reason with her, seungcheol spoke up in a low voice, “very well. i will take her as my bride, and she will stay with me for half of the year and with you for the other half.” demeter smirked and, with a sense of victory, turned around on her heel. “well, i’ll go inform my nymphs that we have a wedding to prepare for,” she said, leaving you alone with seungcheol.

hades!seungcheol who embraced you the second your mother left, holding you close to his chest as you sobbed. “why did you agree with her?” you asked in between sobs. seungcheol bent to your height, cupping your face, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “because, my love, i would rather have you in my arms for a moment than not have you in my life at all. my whole life, it-it has been very, very lonely. and then i met you, and it was almost as if you bloomed flowers all over my barren heart,” he giggled wetly, “i agreed with her because i knew she would never let me have you all to myself. you’re so amazing, my y/n, and the fact i will be able to share half a year with you in my arms is already a blessing for me. you will be my queen, the one who rules my kingdom alongside me. my persephone. my y/n. i don’t think i could give you up for anything this world and universe had to offer. i-i love you...” he ended, body shaking in sobs. you smiled at him in your equally teary, messy state and went on your tiptoes. you kissed him deeply, pouring all your emotions. you felt like your heart was about to explode with all the love you felt for him. when you pulled apart, out of breath, seungcheol leaned his forehead on yours. “i love you, my seungcheol,” you whispered, and the prettiest smile broke out on his tear-stricken face.

hades!seungcheol who, for the first time in his life, didn’t feel so utterly alone and hopeless. when you, his wife, was in the underworld, you consumed all his waking moments, trying to make up for lost time. and when you were aboveground, both he and cerberus waited for your return. over time, this arrangement felt easier, time would feel shorter, and he got demeter to agree to let him visit you for those six months above ground. whenever he held you in his arms, he felt content knowing that no matter how far you would go, you would always find your way back to him. forever, his queen, his y/n.

a/n: I am SO sorry for disappearing. work is killing my ass. so I have 2 plans. one is to complete all my reqs I still have a few (many) remaining and second is to one a long fic for my birthday. it is also based on a greek mythology epic (pretty much an orpheus x eurydice retelling starring jihoon) and that will hopefully be scheduled for my birthday (27th of this month) please let me know if you will be interested in the birthday fic or if I should do something else! also im closing my reqs for a bit I have a lot to catch up on. I want to post all the backlog fics before I take on new reqs but feel free to drop in a say a hi (or remind me to follow you im going on a follow spree after this!) or if you have any suggestions for the birthday event!! again so sorry for dropping I will try to stay more consistent!!!

[lillaydee]

Matchmade Part 5

Millionaire! Joel Miller / Reader

Having experienced traumatic, life altering events, a freshly divorced Joel worked to repay his debt to the person he owed his life to.

WARNINGS:

Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel Lives (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Character Death, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut.

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 4

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“Hi.”

Shit, it’s cuckoo lad, and he’s so close.

Wait, he’s Sarah’s dad?

You squirmed your way out of his hold, thanking him for not letting you fall.

“Daddy, no, this is Miss Addie, not Wiyams,” Sarah said, frustration in her voice.

He gave her a soft laugh, sorry BabyGirl. He held his hand out to you, and said nice to meet you, Miss Addie.

You took his hand with a small smile, and said nice to meet you too, Mr Miller, to which, he corrected you with Joel.

He told you he was glad to have found you. He’d been looking for you. He was wondering if he could talk to you? You nodded and asked him to wait for you in the office as you handled the pickup for the other kids. Sarah had completely forgotten Daddy was there and had gone back to playing with one of the kids.

He waited patiently for you to settle the kids, practicing what to say to you in his head. So you are Miss Addie. Small world. He felt as if he knew so much about you already, the way Sarah wouldn’t shut up about you. You finally came back in and asked if you could get him anything. Coffee? Tea? Water? No, thank you, he said. You asked if Julia could watch Sarah for a bit. She waved her hands at you, go, I’ve got her, she signed.

You sat down across from him and waited for him to speak. He placed his hands on the table, interlacing his fingers with each other.

“I heard about Allie. I’m so sorry, Miss Addie. How are you doing?”

“Thank you. I’m doing okay, considering the circumstances.”

“Is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all?”

“It’s kind of you to ask, but I’m alright.”

“May I know where she’s interred? I’d like to visit, bring Sarah with me, if I can?”

You fell silent. What do you tell him? She’s in an urn in the trunk of my car cause I can’t afford a proper burial for her?

“I haven’t finalized anything yet, but I will let you know.”

He had a contemplative look on his face, as if he was going to say more, but ultimately decided not to. He nodded softly, and told you that if you ever need anything, anything at all, please do not hesitate to contact him. He took a card from his wallet and gave it to you. You took it, thanking him with a smile. He got up and made to leave but paused and turned back to look at you.

“Miss Addie, as far as I’m concerned, I’m still here because your sister saved my life. I owe her my life. Nothing is too small, or too big to ask of me. Please. Call me if you need anything at all.”

You smiled and nodded again. After prying Sarah off your person, he left.

You locked up after Julie left. You looked at the card he gave you. Damn… a CEO of his own company, judging by the name of the company. You kept thinking about what he said. It would be so easy to ask. If only you were not taught to never ask for help if you could help yourself.

**********

Your working days at the daycare went by pretty smoothly. Before you knew it, it had been a full month since you had started working there. Your days were spent with children you love spending time with, making their lunches and snacks, putting them down for a nap and reading or doing activities with them. If things stay this way, you could move out in three months. Sarah was dropped off by her dad every day, but picked up by different people, depending on who was free. You couldn’t help but notice Julie clamouring to handle Sarah’s pickup if Tess was involved, the two spending a long time chatting until Sarah pulled Tess away, wanting to go home. She would be conveniently busy whenever Joel did the pickup, insisting that she’s got whatever it was you were doing. Go, I’m sure he’d like to hear about Sarah from you.

And he really did.

You admire how involved this man was with his child. You found out from Julie what had happened to Sarah’s mother, your eyes widening at the bit where she tried to kill him at the hospital. So he wasn’t lying. You had honestly thought that was part of his cuckoo thing. Apparently not. Oh God, the poor man. No wonder Sarah had never even mentioned a mother. It’s good she had three very dedicated women in her life who loved her so much.

You were deep cleaning the playpen one day when Julie asked if you were busy that long weekend. Apparently, there was a convention in the next town, all the local businesses would flock to the big seaside resort for the event, promoting their businesses, exchanging ideas, getting business tips, the likes. The resort was massive, it could easily house the event, usually fully booked during this time, in fact, it was the resort your parents were going to when the accident happened. You were aware of the convention, it was a big event, this year lasting for two full days, although most people would go Friday and come back Monday. There were activities for everyone. But you had never attended, not being high up enough in the company you used to work for to ever represent them.

Anyway, Julie said, the Millers were going, as they usually do. But the parents, Anita and Jake, who would usually take care of Sarah during times like this, had booked a holiday with friends during that weekend, and the rest of them were involved with the convention. They were looking for someone to look after Sarah. You would get your own room, of course. You just need to make sure Sarah was occupied and safe during those two days. They will pay you handsomely, of course. Would you be interested?

You didn’t really have to think about it. Spend a long weekend with Sarah at a nice hotel for some extra pocket money? Uh, yeah! Of course you are interested.

So, that Friday morning, when Joel asked where he should pick you up to check in that evening, you told him he didn’t have to worry, you can drive yourself after closing. He insisted, parking would be a nightmare anyway, and he had valet service. He’s free to pick Sarah up, since the event would only start Saturday morning. He would just be there to mingle and make contacts, his staff would handle the rest.

You couldn’t tell him you live there. What would he think of you? Julie saved the day, telling him that you could just leave with him when he picked Sarah up, she’ll handle the closing. That way, Joel could just drop you off at the daycare on Monday, and you could leave your car here in the meantime, she said. That’s settled, then, Joel said. Pick you up at 4.30, he said. You just nodded and brought Sarah inside with you, glad that your status as a semi-homeless person was safe.

You were not ashamed, per se. But what would he think of you if he knew the woman he trusted to take care of his daughter was without a home at the moment? You needed this job, you needed this extra money, so you chose to keep quiet, and Julie was kind enough to help you do the same. 

That evening, he picked you and Sarah up, buckling her in the back seat before helping you up into his truck. Only when his door slammed shut did you realize that this was the first time you would be alone with him in a car for an amount of time. Shit. What do you talk about with someone like him? Can you even do that with someone like him? The man owned a business. You were an uneducated, homeless nobody.

You worries turned out to be unfounded. Sarah did all the talking, despite falling asleep every ten minutes, before waking up and continuing her stories as if she didn’t just doze off for two full minutes. Two full minutes, which Joel filled with questions about you and Allie growing up. During the hour drive to the resort, you got to know him a little, and him, you. And not once, you realized, did he talk about his wealth, in fact, he didn’t mention anything about his business to you all that weekend, preferring to talk about his family, namely Sarah, and asking you about yours, and getting to know you.

You also found out during that drive that the cuckoo lad gets better looking the longer you look at him, so you resorted to not doing that. He’s your boss. Stop it Miss Addie.

When you got to the resort, he picked a sleeping Sarah up, the concierge taking care of the luggage. Tess met the three of you at the door, giving you a quick hug hello, and escorting you to the penthouse. Joel took Sarah to her bedroom, while the concierge took the luggage to the rooms, and you stood waiting to be taken to yours, until Tess told you that you would be staying in the penthouse with Joel. Separate rooms, of course. She, Tommy and Maria would be right next door.

You were flustered, to say the least. You had never been in a room this grand. The first floor of the penthouse was bigger than the house you and Allie grew up in, including the land around. That vase on the dining table looked as if it would cost all your savings to replace. What if you broke something? Shit.

Yeah, you’re just going to stand right there until Sarah woke up.

Joel came out of Sarah’s room, tipped the concierge and got your luggage himself, asking you to follow him. He took you to the room right next to Sarah’s and placed your luggage on the rack. He actually asked if he could get you anything. Like, sir? Excuse me? I should be getting you things, not the other way around? Hello? You really felt out of place there, how were you supposed to behave around people like him and his family? He seemed to sense it, so he got on to business.

“Make yourself at home. We’ll have dinner here tonight; the family will join us. Tomorrow onwards you will be mostly on your own but call us if you need anything. Charge everything to the room, just show them your key, okay?”

You nodded, eyes wide from trying to get the concept of charging things to the room.

You heard Sarah call for him. He immediately rushed over, and your heart freaking melted at his commitment to her. Stop it. You’re here to work. Stop it.

As you unpacked your luggage and Sarah’s, you couldn’t help but wonder what Allie would’ve thought of this place. You went out to the expansive balcony and looked at the glorious view, the wind in your hair, feeling like a massive failure. You had always wanted to take her here. In the twelve years you had taken care of her, not once did you ever take her on a holiday, trying to save as much money as you could for more important things, just the beach on the weekends, or the park or the pool sometimes. You’d never allowed pets, worried that the cost of their food and health care might be too much. Movies were a treat, much less the concession stand. Pizza? You can make one for cheaper, and far tastier.

You wondered, at that moment, if Allie hated you for that. If she did, she didn’t show you, or maybe you were too blind to see it? She didn’t get to enjoy the normal things kids her age did, because you were too tight with the purse strings, thinking that her college fund was more important than having fun. And where did all that lead you? She’s gone, you’re alone, that fund you were so keen on saving was gone within weeks, and you were sleeping in the spare room at the daycare where you worked.

You didn’t even realize it, but your face was wet with tears in no time. You should have taken her here. Surely one night here wouldn’t have bankrupted you. And she would have known what it was like to stay at a hotel at least once.

“Miss Addie, are you okay?”

You wiped your entire face with your sleeves and turned around to greet a groggy Sarah. You lifted her up and asked her if she would like to go to the pool. She excitedly nodded. You got ready, putting on your simple swimsuit that you had owned since God knows when, covering it with an old flannel that belonged to your father and a pair of knee length bike shorts. You then got Sarah ready, running into Joel who was on a phone call, and told him you were taking Sarah down for a swim. He nodded and said he will join you shortly, lifting the phone off his ear to say when he was done.

The kiddie pool was glorious. Sarah squealed with joy. She made you pretend to be a mermaid so she can sit on your back while you swam, giggling happily, her water wings smacking you on your face every few seconds. You had pool noodle sword fights, and built sandcastles on the fake beach, and watched as the fake waves wash the castle away.

She wanted ice lollies, so you took her to the stand that sold them. The two of you were heavily debating what flavour to get when a familiar voice greeted you.

“Addison? Is that you?”

And of course, Tanya had to be here. You put on a smile and greeted her back.

“What on earth are you doing at this hotel? Who did you fu…”

She stopped when she saw Sarah. You lifted her up, not wanting her to continue with her usual foul-mouthed poison which seemed to happen whenever she spoke to you.

“Well, hello there,” she said, her body angled away from Sarah, nose scrunched as if she smelled bad. “Who’s this?”

“Are you here for the convention?” you asked, not wanting to expose Sarah to her at all, remembering how bad she had been with kids, Allie in particular,

“Of course, the question is, what are you doing here, with a kid, no less.”

“Hi, everything okay?” Joel appeared out of nowhere behind you.

“Yeah, we’re just getting some ice lollies,” you said, as he took Sarah from you. “What flavour do you want?”

“See if they have blueberry,” he said, eyeing Tanya, who had by now, taken her sunglasses off, and trailing her eyes all over Joel. “Get extra, Tommy, Maria and Tess are here, they got us a few chairs. 

You got the ice lollies, and Joel immediately placed a hand on the small of your back and led you away. He had no idea who Tanya was, but he didn’t get good vibes from her, so he took charge and got you and his daughter as far away as he can from her.

You let him lead you away, but your heart wouldn’t give up the worry. Although you had always bit your tongue when it came to her, Tanya being here, as far as you’re concerned, brought nothing but trouble for you. When he asked you who that was, you just said she was your neighbour growing up. And he left it at that, clocking how uncomfortable you were with her.

The rest of the family cheered when you got there with the lollies. And within minutes, you almost forgot you were there to nanny for Sarah. None of them treated you like the staff. You were just one of them. You were just Addie, although Sarah kept correcting everyone and telling them your name was Miss Addie, thank you very much. You spent the evening talking to Tess, who couldn’t stop asking you questions about your boss Julie, blushed, and told you to shut up when she noticed that you were looking at her with sly smile.

Maria asked how you got to be so good with children. She had heard about the way you coaxed Sarah to come out of the playhouse on her first day. You told them you had been babysitting since you were ten and taken care of Allie since she was born. You were just used to it. You all toasted Allie with lollies, even Sarah, and after a while, left to go back upstairs.

And of course, Tanya was in the elevator. She didn’t say anything to you, but her eyes widened when she saw Tommy press the button for the penthouses. Joel eyed you the entire time, trying to figure out what was going on, but didn’t say anything.

By the time dinner was over, you actually felt like you were part of the family, having gotten your hands smacked away every time you tried to clean up. Sarah sat on your lap during dinner, by the time the plates were cleaned, she was sound asleep. You lifted her up and brought her to bed. She woke up just as you were putting her down and asked if she could have a story from Daddy. Joel came in and laid next to her, so you got up to leave, giving them some privacy, but Sarah said no, Miss Addie, stay. Lie here and patted her other side for you.

Okay, this was awkward. But Joel just said, yes, Miss Addie, stay, a teasing smile on his face, his hand going over Sarah’s head, patting the same area she was.

Well, Sarah was right there, and you couldn’t resist the pleading look. It’s not like you were next to him. Sarah was there, cutest little buffer to ever exist.

So you laid down and listened to the story with her. Before long, you fell asleep to his deep, calming voice reading Goodnight Moon, his daughter snuggled in your arms.

**********

You groggily woke up way too the next morning with Sarah on the other side of you, somehow she had rolled over you and gotten to the other side, still snuggled up to you. You smiled a little at the thought. Allie used to do that too. How wonderful to be young and able to sleep so soundly to the point that you could literally roll over someone and not wake up.

A small, masculine snore properly woke you.

That didn’t come from the little girl in your arms.

Oh shit, whose arm was hugging Sarah over your waist?

Who’s sleeping behind you?

You carefully let Sarah go, and shimmied your way down the bed, under the arm, and slid onto the floor.

Oh crap. Joel Miller was sleeping on the bed. Behind you. His arm was over your waist.

Awkward, right? Yeah…

So, you slowly got out of the open door, and went back to your room.

Joel woke up as you softly shut the door, realizing where he was, feeling the warmth you left on the bed in the space between him and Sarah, wondering what just happened. He fell asleep in Sarah’s room. That much he realized. Did you spend the whole night here too? Had you just woken up? But before he could even think further, Sarah turned and shuffled over into his arms, and he closed his eyes, the smell of his daughter’s hair lulling him back to sleep.

When he woke up about two hours later, you were not in the penthouse. He got ready for his very full day, having agreed to meet some people at breakfast downstairs. You came back in just as he was putting his shirt on, a bag in your hands. He found you in the kitchen, putting fresh fruits away in the fridge, some dried fruits and nuts on the counter. Snacks for Sarah throughout the day, you said. It’s okay, he could go if he needed to, you’ve got Sarah. You’ll bring her down for breakfast when she wakes up.

You didn’t mention anything about the sleeping arrangement, so he didn’t either, thinking that he had just imagined the whole thing. Surely you would say something if that really happened? So, he told you to call him if you needed anything, went to Sarah’s room to kiss her goodbye, and left.

You got Sarah ready; she was excited to spend the day outside. She had seen the elaborate set up for kids the resort had put out for the event and was practically vibrating with excitement. Breakfast first, you said. She pouted, eager to go to the bouncy house, but followed you to the dining hall quietly.

You saw Joel immediately as you walked into the room, chatting with an older man, a cup of coffee in his hands. You went around the buffet, asking Sarah what she wanted for breakfast, to which she pouted and said she wanted to play. You kneeled in front of her and told her if she wanted to play, she needs to be strong. Otherwise she would fall asleep while playing, and we don’t want that, now, would we? She contemplated your words for a bit, her face scrunched up in thought, before telling you she wanted eggs and tomatoes for breakfast. You got some for her and was walking towards an empty table when Tanya spotted you, running a little to get to you.

You got to your table and made sure Sarah started eating. Tanya had taken the seat across from you, asking you what you were doing there, and who you were there with. Sarah asked you if she could have some juice with her milk, and Tanya rolled her eyes at the interruption. You told Sarah she could have juice after she finished eating, and she nodded.

“Come on, who was that delicious hunk from yesterday? Is that your boyfriend?”

You were annoyed that she would ask you questions like that with Sarah sitting right there. She’s three, not deaf.

“What’s a boyfriend?” Sarah asked you.

“Hey, little girl, when adults are talking, you don’t speak, okay? That’s rude.”

You looked at her disbelievingly. Was she serious right now?

“What? It’s true!”

“Please keep your voice down. And what I’m doing here or who I am here with is none of your business, Tanya.”

“Oh, come on, Addie. We’ve known each other forever. I can’t ask you if you’re with someone?”

Her phone rang, and she got up to answer it, moving a few steps away from the table towards the nearest windows.

“Daddy!!!” Sarah squealed.

Joel came to the table and gave Sarah a kiss. He told her he had to go to work, but she has to listen to Miss Addie, okay? Don’t give Miss Addie any trouble?

She nodded excitedly. Joel turned to you, taking something out of his wallet.

“So, you should be able to charge anything to the room with your key, but if that doesn’t work, just use this card, okay? Anything she needs. Don’t be shy to use it for anything you need too,” he said, giving you one of his credit cards, before bending a bit, whispering the pin code to your ears.

Oh… goosebumps.

You just nodded, pocketing the card. He kissed Sarah goodbye one more time, told her to be good, and placed his hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly, telling you he will see the two of you at lunch.

He was still in your line of sight when Tanya sat back down, a disbelieving and smug look on her face.

“Oh, my, God. You’re his nanny? I knew you didn’t have it in you to get someone that hot. He’s too good for you,” she said, a satisfied look on her face, before placing her elbows on the table.

“So, is he single?”

---

@peelieblue @feenoire @vickie5446

Part 6

[fairy-princette]

i gave your name as my emergency phone call

AO3 link | 1 2 3 4 (you are here) 5 6

Stan receives a postcard from his twin brother - who he's not seen in a decade - asking for his help. But like with everything else in his life, he runs into some trouble on his way there

4. i’ll let the pain metastasize

Ford awoke with a groan to the smell of fresh coffee brewing. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes he looked into the - surprisingly clean - kitchen and saw Fiddleford puttering about. He called out to his old friend to untie him. Or rather, he tried to. His efforts were rather impeded by what felt like a large piece of tape covering his mouth.

“Mmmm, mmmm!”

“Oh, Stanford! You’re awake!” Fiddleford walked over to him and leant down to peer carefully into his eyes. “Good to have you back. Now, this might hurt.”

Before Ford had a chance to prepare himself the tape was ripped from his face and he found himself wishing he’d put more care into shaving the last few days as he felt more than one piece of hair get pulled out with it.

“Did anything-” Ford coughed to clear his throat. “Did anything noteworthy happen during the night? Why was my mouth taped? Why is my throat sore?”

“As far as I’m aware, there was nothing eventful. Bill was mouthin’ off at Stan and apparently he decided this was the best solution. From how he’s telling it Cipher spent most of the night screaming through the tape until he got bored. Stanley’s still asleep upstairs - he was up most of the night watching over you.”Ford nodded in understanding as Fiddleford finished untying the last of his bindings, and followed him through to the kitchen, picking his glasses up off the table.

“You cleaned?”

“Hmm?” Fiddleford looked up from where he was pouring a mug of coffee. “Oh no, it was like this when I came down, must’ve been Stanley. Here.” Ford took the proffered mug. “That should help your throat some. I’d do you some proper honey and lemon but you’re out of, well, everything.”

Ford tried to remember the last time he’d been grocery shopping, but between hiding the journals, fighting off Bill and decommissioning the portal he hadn’t had much time left for the usual mundanities of life. “I might have some canned stuff left in the cupboard?” he offered.

“I saw. There was more snow last night so I didn’t want to risk the roads so soon, so I’ve done us a breakfast of ramen and canned peaches.”

The two of them pulled the same face at the thought of the meal.

“After all this is done I’m going to invent a nutrient powder. Then you could add it to water, or maybe have it in a pill, and have a whole meal and I never have to go to grocery shopping again.”

“Couldn’t be any worse than your usual cooking.”“Hey, I’ll have you know I’ve not burned a single meal in weeks!”“And how many meals have you actually cooked in that time?”

“…”

“My point stands. Now drink up, buttercup, neither of us deserve to have to deal with you uncaffeinated.” The ceiling above them creaked. “Speaking of, sounds like sleeping beauty’s up. How’s he take his coffee?”

Ford paused. “I’m not sure - he used to take it with creamer and two sugars, but that information isn’t exactly up to date. You would be better off asking him.”

He stared down into his own black coffee. He and Stan used to be inseparable, living out of each other’s pockets. They were completely in sync, didn't even need to speak to talk to each other, and now he didn’t even know how he took his coffee int he morning. It was strange seeing him again. He’d been so angry at his twin for so long, nursing his resentment and contempt from him, but now that he was back he just missed him. He hadn’t missed Stanley for ten years, but now he was here, in his home, and somehow he felt further away than he ever had before. Like the emotional distance between them had been obscured by the physical. Last night Stanley had been within arms reach of him and he hadn’t known a single thing to say. Not even how to say hello. How do you go about greeting your estranged twin brother who you haven’t seen in a decade who tried to destroy your life? Where do you even start with that?

Ford was pulled from his thoughts by the thuds of Stanley’s boots as he descended the stairs.

“Morning,” Stanley crossed the kitchen, clapping Ford on the shoulder. “Ford, good to see that fucker’s pissed off. Fiddleford, is that coffee?”

“A fresh pot,” Fiddleford poured out a mug handing it to Stanley.

Stanley took the mug gratefully and sat opposite Ford, grabbing the small amount of creamer and sugar left and pouring them into his coffee. Maybe there were some things that never changed.

———

After their questionable breakfast and second round of coffee the three men sat around the table discussing the best way to destroy the portal. The portal itself was simple enough to destroy, the sticking point was what to do about the journals. Now that Stan didn’t have access to his El Diablo, not to mention the fact that they were still in the middle of a snowstorm, Ford’s so-called plan for him to take the journal and drive off with it across the country with it had gone out the window. Not that there was any world where Stan would finally see his brother again, just to up and leave again. They had been talking in circles for close to an hour, with each suggestion getting more and more outlandish as more and more got shot down.

Stan sighed, running his hand through his hair. God he needed it cut. “I just don’t get why you won’t destroy the journals.” He held his hand up before Ford could interrupt him. “I know, I know, it’s years of work, but if this portal’s as dangerous as you say, is your research really more important than the safety of the entire world?”

Ford let out a huff, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed. “Of course you would suggest that. I wouldn’t expect you to understand, you would have actually had to do something with your life to know what I’m losing.”

“Ford! That was uncalled for!”

“I don’t know what it’s like to lose something? I don’t, Ford?” Stan yelled, barely noticing that Fiddleford had spoken. “You don’t know anything about my life, or anything I’ve been through!”

“Oh please, we all saw your tv adverts, you were doing just fine out there scamming innocent people. Did you even try to get an honest job or do anything worthwhile?”

“Get an- I didn’t even get to finish high school!” Stan’s chair screeched across the floorboards, toppling over from the force of him standing. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but there’s not exactly a queue of people lining up to hire some homeless seventeen year old drop-out who lives in their car. It might not seem like it to you with your house and your job and your university degree, but me being here right now? Being able to find somewhere to sleep, having enough money to eat every day, having clothes on my back, keeping myself alive? That’s the worthwhile thing I’ve done. And yeah, maybe nobody else would give a flying fuck that I managed it - actually I can think of a few who’d rather I didn’t - but I care, so don’t you be sitting there in your ivory tower, all high and mighty! I might’ve made a stupid mistake when I was a kid but I have paid for it and then some. The literal entire world is on the line and you’re too selfish to destroy a few notebooks.”

Stan was breathing heavily as he stormed across the kitchen to the front door.

“They’re not just notebooks, it’s my life’s work!”

Stan spun back round to face his twin. “For God’s sake Ford, we’re not even thirty yet! You’ve not been alive long enough to have a life’s work! Are you really telling me these three journals, that’s it? That’s the best you can manage?” He turned and walked out into the snow. “We both know that’s not true.”

———

Stan shoved his hands deeper into his pockets as he trudged aimlessly through the snow. He might’ve been dressed for Ford’s unheated house, but it definitely wasn’t enough to be out in the remains of a snow storm. Realistically he should go back to the cabin before he starts to develop frostbite, but he really doesn’t want to have to face Ford again. They’d both always had a short fuse and if they ran into each other again now they’d just end up in another screaming match.

He continued to stomp through the snowdrifts, listening to the sounds of the forest; birds cheeped above him, the bushes and undergrowth rustled as small animals scurried about, and a small stream babbled in the distance. A flash of red caught the corner of his eye. Stan turned his head to catch it but was instead left staring a strange stag that had two pairs of antlers in a nearby clearing. The two stared at each other until the stags eyes blinked - out of sync - and it wandered off into the forest, head held high.

———

Ford tugged on his hiking boots and roughly pulled his winter jacket on over his turtle neck, taking the bag that Fiddleford handed him, filled with a spare jacket and woollens. Under normal circumstances he would have happily left Stanley to cool off after his outburst, but he was alone, in an unfamiliar forest, in sub zero temperatures without suitable clothing, in Gravity Falls. One of these circumstances alone would be enough to kill someone, never mind all three combined. Fiddleford had declared that he would wait back at the cabin incase Stanley returned, and would begin work on the calculations needed to safely decommission the portal - much more his area of expertise than Ford’s - while Ford tracked his brother through the snow. After all his time spent researching the anomalies in the forest he had gotten quite good at tracking if he did say so himself, although he doubted he would be requiring those skills with the footprints Stanley left in the fresh snow.

He trekked through the trees, tugging his scarf tight around his neck. Stanley didn’t have a scarf to wear. He double checked the duffle bag to make sure there was one tucked inside. He hadn’t had a scarf when Pa had kicked him out either. It was summer and he presumably went to stay at a friend’s house, but still. They hadn’t had many other friends growing up - it was always the two of them against the world - but he must’ve had some. Stanley had a big personality, he could talk his way into anything, he must have had somewhere to go that night. And the night after that. And all the nights after that. He can’t have been living in his car for ten years, that must be a recent occurrence.

And he had those tv adverts! Yes, Ford nodded to himself, if he had money for tv adverts he must have had income and somewhere to stay; it would be ridiculous to do so otherwise. But the adverts never lasted very long, and they always popped up with a new product, so his business ideas can’t have been very successful. And Stan always had been a bit ridiculous with his ideas, playing the long game for a better pay off later. It would be just like him to pay for a tv advert rather than rent.

And he was still claiming that it was a mistake, an accident, even after all these years. But why? It’s hardly like continuing that lie would help now, or get him out of trouble, they were all far past that. Unless it hadn’t been a lie. Act first, think later was practically the story of Stan’s life. But Pa was so sure, so positive that he had done it vindictively; he must have been otherwise how could he have thrown out his own son? Ford hitched the bag higher on his shoulder. He had gotten Stan’s bag of stuff together very quickly though, like he’d been planning that. Like the science fair was just the excuse he needed to get rid of him and have one less mouth to feed.

He continued to hike through the forest, lost in thoughts of the past, following Stan’s tracks and ignoring the occasional gnome that ran underfoot. After half an hour of walking, though it felt longer having to pull his feet through the snow, Ford saw Stan’s silhouette at the top of a small outcrop, looking out of the valley. He pulled himself up the short rise to stand next to him, looking down across the tops and trees and the lake.

The pair stood in silence, admiring the view. Rays of sunlight shone across the clear blue sky, twinkling on the blanket of snow was laid over the valley below them. The same light glistened on the waves of the lake, the boats moored at the jetty bobbing in the water.

“Y’know, it’s a really beautiful place you’ve found to live.”“You should see it the summer, the sun reflecting off the lake, all the creatures filling the forest with life. It’s something else.”

“Saw a weird deer earlier with double antlers.”“Ah, that’d be Henry. There’s a page or two on him in the first journal. His eyes glow when he’s near acidic soil.”

“Ford?”

“Yeah?”

Stanley turned to face him. “That’s really fucking weird.”

The two stared at each other before Ford’s mouth twitched and they both broke into laughter.

“This entire place is fucking weird - there’s a glade over there,” Ford gestured vaguely east, “Where a magical unicorn lives and I’ve had to get locks for my trash cans because the gnomes keep getting in.”

Ford slid the duffle bag off his shoulder, “Here, F grabbed you some layers - jumper, coat, gloves, the whole nine yards.”

Stanley dropped the bag and dug out the clothes, quickly pulling on the extra layers. “I swear, that man is an angel in disguise.”“Don’t I know it - I probably wouldn’t have survived my undergrad if he hadn’t been such a mother hen, making sure I ate and slept.”

“Good to know someone else took after I-” Ford watched as Stanley’s face closed off and he turned away. “It’s good to know you had someone looking out for you.”

Ford turned back to the view, dropping his arms by his side. “You were right, earlier.” He watched from the corner of his eye as Stanley froze. “I can do more research. Hell, if I wanted to I could do the same research again, it’s hardly like the anomalies have gone anywhere. But if that portal gets activated, if Bill manages to connect us to the Nightmare Realm, this’ll all be gone. It won’t matter what research I’ve done or if I prove my Unified Theory of Weirdness if there’s no-one left to see.”

Ford watched as Stan turned to stare at him wide-eyed before slowly lifting his hand towards his forehead. Ford quickly batted the hand away. “What are you doing?”

“I’m checking for a fever. There’s no way you would admit I’m right and agree to destroy your own work. Are you ill? Did you get bit by something in the forest? What’s wrong with you?”“Nothing is wrong, Stanley, I’ve simply been in quite a few situations in the last few weeks that have forced me to acknowledge my own errors, and what sort of scientist would I be if I could not learn form my own mistakes? Now, I don’t know about you but I’m absolutely freezing, shall we head back to the cabin?”

Stanley nodded his assent and they began to carefully descend the small hill, following their footprints back through the woods.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” Stanley asked, “About seeing this place in the summer?”

“Well, I- yes, of course. I mean, I’m sure you have your own life to be getting back to, and I’m very appreciative that you dropped everything so quickly to come help me, but if you maybe wanted to stay after we fix all this, or maybe come to visit, I would not be opposed to the idea.”

Ford stumbled to the side slightly as Stan nudged him with his shoulder. “‘Not opposed to the idea’, calm down there Sixer, don’t want to sound too enthusiastic,” he laughed. He pulled away slightly, withdrawing into his own space. “I’d love to. I’ve missed you, Ford.”

“I miss you too Stan.”

The pair continued walking side by side, retracing their footprints through the deep snow towards the cabin.

One of the many thoughts that had been niggling away in Ford’s brain floated to the surface. “Last night, what was Bill saying that was so bad it warranted taping my mouth shut?”

“Oh, just the usual - ‘you’ll never amount to anything’, ‘everyone thinks you’re a waste of space’, ‘why even bother coming back’. Honestly Sixer, are you sure you made a deal with a demon and it’s not just dear old Pa?” Stan laughed self-depreciatingly.

Ford felt his face fall. “Stan, that’s-” He cut himself off, suddenly aware of how quiet the forest had become. Gone was the birdsong, the rustling of the undergrowth and occasional yelp of gnome, leaving just the crunch of their feet through the snow. “Stanley, when you saw Henry earlier did you bow to him?”

Stan looked at him incredulously. “Why would I bow to a weird deer in the woods? It’s a deer.”

“I expected as much. We should get back as quickly as possible.”“Is something wrong? Is there more weird stuff?”

“Everything is absolutely fine and we are both being very calm about it, but we are walking faster.”

A screech sounded from amongst the trees.

“Actually, we’re running.”

Ford grabbed Stan by the wrist and dragged him after him, weaving through the trees in a much more direct path towards the cabin.

“What- is- happening?” Stan panted behind him.

“Short answer - Henry’s a prideful asshole who’s decided this part of the woods is his territory and doesn’t take kindly to ‘slights’,” Ford yelled back, jumping over a rock, his twin in tow behind him. “Those antlers are very sharp.” He heard the sound of hooves on snow and glanced back to see the stag gaining on them.

“Don’t look back, it slows you down,” Stan shouted, still being partially dragged by Ford.

Ford spun his head back round just in time to see another rock protruding from the snow, catching his ankle and sending him tumbling to the ground, dragging Stanley with him. The two tumbled in a heap of limbs through the thickets until they ran out momentum. Stan was thrown into a tree, his shoulder hitting the trunk with a sickening crunch, while Ford rolled through the snow, using the force to roll onto all-fours. Henry stood above them, its eyes glowing a sickening green. A small hysterical part of Ford’s mind wondered the acidity of the soil as the deer hissed and pawed at the ground, fixing its stance to impale Stanley.

[cementcornfield]

Offseason Thoughts!!

ok i know a lot of people are dreading this offseason because it’s going to be Long it’s going to be Dramatic, but honestly i’m so here for it. like lowkey i love this time of year because really it’s the time for completely unbridled optimism in a lot of ways. if we do A, B, and C, who’s to say that that doesn’t fix the team and we win the super bowl next year? you literally can’t know for sure that it WON’T work!! (i didn’t say it was a time for realism, i said optimism, perhaps delusionally so 🥲) 

plus i’m just genuinely interested in all the roster building stuff. figuring out contracts and how those might work, free agency, the draft and everything that those things entail - love it! all about it! so if you’re a sicko like me who IS into all of this (and i completely understand if you aren’t because it WILL be exhausting) i thought i’d make a little overview about the things we’ll be dealing with over the next several months. 

Here is a list of all the internal free agents we are going to have to make decisions on, along with their expected cost and the likelihood of us keeping them

^Here is our expected cap space for the next few years (taking into account expected cuts like Rankins, Hubbard, and Cappa) plus some extra commentary.

as you can see, we have MORE than enough cash and cap space to be very aggressive this offseason. will we be? it’s certainly not in our reputation to do so, but they HAVE been making baby steps over the last few years to catch up to the modern nfl. the most recent example of which is firing coaches like lou before their contracts are up! very uncharacteristic of the brown family. and i think this reflects rumblings you hear on twitter that the organization is frankly embarrassed at how this season went (rightfully so). so i think you can expect they will do SOME things to reflect this urgency, even if it’s not as much as we’d like them to do. 

the biggest decisions to be made: what do we do about tee?? what do we do about trey?? and then of course extending ja’marr, which i don’t think is a decision at all for anyone, but they’ve gotta decide how to do it to make both sides as happy as possible, when they struggled with that right up to the first game last season 😭

Tee: obviously if you’ve been following this blog you know i want to keep tee. i think we can pull it off and i think it will be beneficial to the team long term. but there is an argument to be made regarding his durability/injuries and whether the resources we’d spend on him would be better spent elsewhere like on fixing our historically bad defense. however, to that i say that we’re actually already one of the biggest spenders in terms of cap space on defense, and it didn’t help at all lmao. once we get rid of people like sheldon rankins and sam hubbard, who are definitely no longer worth the value of their contracts, we will free up a significant portion of the cap and use it to find better value free agents that can help us. the strategy going from overpaying for bad players to paying average amounts for average players. because with a top 5 offense like we had this year, we truly only need an average defense, unlike the HISTORICALLY bad one we had this year!

(now a caveat to this is if the bengals would actually show they’re willing to go all out and spend BIG on the BEST defensive free agents, then perhaps that’s worth more than keeping tee. but the only thing with that is that i just don’t believe the bengals would do it either way. even in 21 when we fixed our whole defense with free agency, we still did it by acquiring a bunch of smaller name value free agents, who ended up performing far above what the market thought they would. and i imagine that will be the strategy by the FO whether we keep tee or not.) 

you can also say that a large part of our FO’s failure the last few seasons has been that we aren’t keeping our Known Talents. we drafted and developed jessie bates into a star, and then we let him go because we thought we could easily replace his value for cheaper in FA and the draft….and three years later safety is still a huge hole on our roster. DJ Reader is another example of a key player for our team that we thought we could replace and we failed dramatically. looking at tee, who is the replacement we have in line? jermaine?? for SO MANY reasons that is no longer a viable plan lmao. Someone in FA? this is a weak FA class. so we’d let tee walk and then probably end up overpaying for a lesser talent? what’s the point of that? okay maybe we draft a WR high to replace tee? well i’m hearing that it’s also not a great WR draft. and to expect a first year rookie to come in and offer even half of what tee does is also not a super sound strategy! (not to mention we’d have to spend a high draft pick that should probably be used on defense!) 

tag tee? maybe! but i don’t think it’s as likely as extending him at this point. the second tag will be expensive (i think over 25k? maybe 26k) and that takes up a big chunk of our cap space if that’s what we’re worried about. plus it will piss off tee, to be tagged twice and not given the benefit of being able to get a long term deal? with his injury history especially? players hate that shit. i think it’s more beneficial for both parties to just do an extension at that point if we want to keep him. you can spread the cap hit out easier for the team, and tee won’t have to worry about his long term security as much. 

ANYWAY this got long, honestly tee should have just been his own post lmao. but this situation is deifnitely the most interesting to me and seeing how it goes will be FASCINATING. 

Trey: he requested a trade last offseason because he knows that his current contract is significantly less than he deserves for the value he offers (and that was BEFORE he got first team all pro and led the entire nfl in sacks this season, oh god 🥲) we have him under contract, but would he be willing to play under it? or would he retire like he threatened to? i’m honestly not sure, and i hope it doesn’t come to us finding out. we need to keep our star players happy, which means we need to figure something out here. do we extend him? he just turned 30, which the FO always frowns upon when it comes to extensions lol BUT he also just had his best year? i don’t think even our idiotic FO could say that just because his age starts with a 3 now means he’ll be washed next season or even the season after. what i’m seeing on twitter is that he’s expected to get at least one more deal of 2-3 years. and looking at the age of elite edge guys in the league, i think that that’s fair! and if you ask me, completely and totally worth it to keep trey. i mean jesus, who do we even have on defense if we lose him?? i think this one is a no-brainer, we’ve gotta offer him an extension for more money and i think he’d still be willing to take a reasonable deal to stay. 

Ja’Marr: oh my god. i’m still filled with SO MUCH RAGE when i think back to how CLOSE we were to getting him signed last offseason. we were RIGHT THERE. all the rumors were saying it was basically a done deal!! all the numbers and years were agreed upon!!! but our cheap-ass FO couldn’t just get over themselves and structure the guarantees to match how most deals are done in the rest of the league!! they showed they’re willing to do a modern structure for Joe, they need to show they’re willing to do it with the rest of our stars. especially our first team all pro triple crown winning stars!! jesus christ!!!

the only thing that offers me some comfort is that ja’marr is still on the same path, contract-wise, as Justin Jefferson. they also couldn’t get over the hump before his fourth year even when both parties wanted to, and he ended up signing a massive contract in june the next year. i’m hoping that we can accomplish the same on a similar timeline because oh my god i do not need all the drama of ja’marr missing training camp again! and when you look at all the other WRs up for an extension this offseason (garrett wilson probably the only one who even comes slightly close to ja’marr’s level), i think it’s fair to say that ja’marr is setting the market whenever he signs. then like with justin’s last year, the other WRs will all sign slightly below. so i’m hoping hoping hoping that there’s no motivation on either side to drag this out. but of course, we’ll see!! 

and then we’ve gotta think about the lesser free agents like Mike G, Mike H, BJ, Germaine…i have no idea what we do with them. i’d like to retain Mike G…..the three defensive vets i dunno! they’re good locker room leaders…mostly? they’re still solid if not losing a step. should we bring them back for reasonable vet deals? probably?? can we find better value in FA?? i’m honestly not sure. like you don’t want to lose these guys but it’s also hard to say that we should keep them at all costs when you look at the defensive performance last year. i just don’t know here. i’d hope we keep at least one of them? BJ maybe being the most important in my eyes? 

there’s so much more to talk about honestly but i’ll stop yapping for now! what do you guys think we should do?? i’d love to hear your thoughts! 

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

I really have three big OC Groups that I want to ramble about but. there are. so many OCs. within each of those groups. oh my gosh.

I need to ramble about my OCs.

[loftec]

No one tagged me in this but @smilebackwards kindly invited all who wanted to do this and I like to suffer so here we go!

Make a poll with five of your all-time favorite characters and then tag five people to do the same.

This was so hard and I will not tag anyone (except @mittimellan because you don't like polls or making impossible top five lists about media so I can't resist!). But please if you do this tag me so I can vote on your blorbos!

Edit: No actually I will tag four more people because it was in the prompt so here we go: @the-rat-wins @wideblueskies @deedala @michellemisfit and seriously anyone else who wants to do it!

[tenwhiteandalusians]

is episode 8 the domitian arc ? more on this and EVEN MORE narratives i’ve been ignoring that the show said “actually,,,” about in 5

[age-of-moonknight]

“Darkness at the Edge of Town,” Avengers Unlimited (Vol. 1/2022), Infinity Comic, #33.

Writer: Alex Segura; Artist: Jim Towe; Colorist: Andres Mossa; Letterer: Joe Sabino

[quillheel]

@tenebriism // yusuke & akechi!

the contact was something unfamiliar with him.

perhaps that is why he was so insistent on saying something, even when a sluggishness unable to be hidden in precise carnelian eyes, dexterity faltering in what is often used by such precise hands, a darkness discoloring the undersides of skin like cheap, shiny decoration — paint applied with a sensitivity often lost on Akechi, but one that was not so easily when it applied to the flesh; attention unending, monitoring, almost clinical.

perhaps it was that then, the unexpected from someone he has learned what to expect from, that championed him onwards like a curse he was bound to — eternally, Akechi was cursed, or at least that's often how he thought he was. how strange it was, for that moment of pinpoint notice, the contact an unfamiliar heavy pressure 'pon his shoulder, then; clumsy compared to the specific phrasing Akechi was talented in puppeting to prompt it, more natural than he ever was; its removal & its explanation. — if Yusuke had explained it sooner, Akechi hadn't been listening.

Initially, Akechi does not understand ; a thing he hates. he bites back the part of him that, impulsive, hears the reason & motive and calls Yusuke foolish. Uncomprehending, a white-hot moment of unwillingness to try met with the unkillable part of Akechi that denies the mocking, as if he is better than Yusuke, his eternal knowing he is not ; before he sets himself upon the task of seeing it through the lens of something he better understands. critical eyes scanning the lines, the progression, nipping at the edges of strokes of graphite or ink in his effort to understand why this mattered, why this was worth it.

Akechi is leaned forward, the worn booth of Cafe LeBlanc shifting as if moving to follow Akechi's lead hovering above his shoulder in one of the fewest times Yusuke is harbored within it's walls, as he shifts closer to examine. the same one might examine wounds, understanding the hands that made them, understanding what they were at all. ( Akechi struggled with the concept that Yusuke, or anyone at all, and himself were at all alike, however to say they were not similar in such a manner as this would be untrue. Goro's attention artistic in of itself, in the intensity his eyes always have. perhaps that is why Yusuke liked him. maybe Yusuke didn't like him at all. )

a perfectly trimmed finger-nail nips at the barest edge of a line at the bottom of the page, not tearing at the medium used to apply it, but rather only a pressure to it; as if by sinking his claws in, he could know it. — know it better.

"that is…" intrigue begins to strike him, rattling up into his nerves. his nail indents deeper into the fiber of the paper, never breaking through, only pushing it down. he understands it in the way detectives understand evidence, the way Akechi understands everything, the way he has to. "interesting."

he reels himself in, realizing that for all his intrigues, he is still expected to be the reasonable one. Yusuke was eccentric, blindingly intelligent in the ways Akechi took time to fully know just beneath the surface, but depravation and exhaustion were just the same regardless. human things, unhealthy in their intentional pursuit. what kind of friend would he be if he allowed this to persist? ( not friends. never friends. the way he always hesitates. ) — how hypocritical of him.

"By all means." a hand waved, eyes glancing to Yusuke's in his familiarity with the request before finding themselves back at the page "How long have you been conscious, Yusuke-san? However in-depth, and fascinating this study is, your health is a vital priority."

[bruciemilf]

Need a the Waynes Lived AU where Martha’s a vampire. She snuck in a Wayne Gala for a potential late night snack, but Thomas thought she was a socialite.

“So, what do you do?”

“I drain people of their life sources.”

“Oh, you’re a CEO too?”

She can’t drink Thomas’ blood because he smokes too much, the baggy eyes indicate long nights spent on his feet during surgery, which means it’ll taste bitter, and she saw him drown 10 whiskey shots in one go.

It’s a taste thing, nothing against him.

He is, how ever, very handsome, and she decided she’ll be his house cat for the time being. Fast forward two years later and they have a vampire cherub of a baby named Bruce.

Babies usually don’t come out with fangs and tiny bat wings, so, yeah. His wife’s a vampire. Cool.

“How come I’ve never seen your wife outside during the daytime, Tom??”

“How come I’ve never seen you mind your own fucking business?”

[saintrosalyn]

JAILBIRD

Ghost becomes pen pals with an inmate before deciding that he wants to adopt his little jailbird.

Word count: 4.1k

Tw: inmate reader, reader is kept as vauge as possible but is implied to be younger than Ghost, violence, stalking, ghost is a perv, p in v, oral (f! Receiving), creampie, spanking (once), orgasm denial if you squint, unprotected sex, NOT edited we die like men.

Edited to Add: Part Two is posted :)

Notes: Baby’s first fanfic, please be gentle. Let me know if I missed any trigger warnings or if you want to see more! I have an idea for a second part but I don’t know if anyone wants it, right now it’s tucked away safely in my drafts. Enjoy! :)

P.S. I’m thinking about making an ao3 account and publishing an edited version of this on there. I’ll link it if I do! I’ve already spent too much time procrastinating finals but christmas break is around the corner so who knows.

The letter came with the top serrated, already opened, as all your letters came. You mostly ignored them. There were a couple of programs that allowed people to become pen pals with prisoners but you’d been there long enough to know what they often contained. 

Many of the women milked poor losers on the outside. Money given and sent. Promises of butterfly kisses and blowjobs whispered over the phone. Exchanges. Some were even able to sweet talk their honeys into giving bribes. Money passed into hands of guards, currency that was then exchanged for cigarettes, which were much more valuable on the inside than the bills used on the outside.

You don’t know why you read this letter. It certainly wasn’t the penmanship, a scrawled handwriting that lay between cursive and print. Maybe it was the blue pen, you’d recognize a Bic anywhere, or maybe it was the fact that it smelled a bit like top-shelf liquor. 

It was rather blunt. But not in an obscene way. Simple and straight to the point as if constrained by an unknown word count. It wasn’t memorable, but what else was there to do? Pace your cell back and forth and wait for zoochosis to settle further in your bones. Close your eyes and remember what freedom tasted like before it dissolved in your mouth.

The pen they gave you was cheap, the paper even cheaper, but you were used to making things work. Your reply was shorter than his, than Simon’s, but it got the job done. If he wanted to write back he would. If he didn’t, well, the new prison guard was starting to get rather handsy with you. The time will pass no matter what.

___

His replies came in strange patterns. Some weeks you’d get eight in a week, other times you wouldn’t hear from him for a few months. It took a year for the first phone call of which lasted less than a minute and consisted mostly of him grunting on the other end and a schlick sound you pretended not to notice. It was his fourth phone call that he finally said a few words in a voice so low it made the phone buzz against your ear, tickling like a lover's breath. Eventually, you had some semblance of conversations, even if they were interrupted by a recorded voice warning you of the time you had left. 

He told you he was a soldier and at first, you planned on cutting the whole penpal idea off. Even before you got arrested you hated bootlickers more than anything. But Simon grew on you, and your friends all suggested you get in his good graces to see if he could pull some strings. You would’ve felt guilty if he was anything other than glorified government property. Both of you were.

The first thing he gave you was a book, The Yellow Wallpaper, which was thicker than you remembered from the time you read it in school. It was only when you cracked open the spine did you find a pack of cigarettes inside, the pages carved out so your real present could be placed inside. You couldn’t help the smile that split your lips as you pressed one between your lips, not noticing the tiny S carved into it.

You thank him for the gift by whispering his name into the phone. A mantra, a prayer, it didn’t matter as long as you kept your voice breathy. He promises to get you more and you learn not to refuse him. At one point, you notice that little robotic voice doesn’t time you anymore. The guard who couldn’t keep his hands to himself was replaced with a woman, hair pulled back into a military-style bun. And you got an extra cookie with your meals.

It took a year for him to visit. You knew it was coming eventually, men are only fine with their imagination for so long before they crave something tangible. Hell, even you were curious about the man who wanted to sink his teeth into you. It almost felt like getting ready for a date. Butterflies dropped like lead in your stomach as you tried to tidy your appearance as much as you could. You smelled, but there wasn’t much you could do about that. The whole damn prison smelled like a county fair bathroom. The lack of air conditioning in the heat of summer just added a sweet BO tinge. 

The first thing you noticed about Simon was his size. You had never met a man as big as he was. The next was the thick scar tissue that marred his face. Though, even without the scars you would be hesitant to ever call him handsome.

Intimidating.

That was what came to mind staring at the thick cords of muscle that covered his arms and the broadness of his shoulders wasn’t just genetics. And he just stared at you. You glanced at the phone that connected to his on the other side of the glass and back at him but decided against it.

You offered him a small smile and an awkward wave. It unnerved you. The focus and attention pinned you in place. Normally you kinned yourself to a tiger you saw at a zoo when you were a child. One that paced back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. A habit you understood all too well. But sitting in front of your pen pal you realized you were rather off. 

Simon was the tiger and you were the bird that caught his attention.

It took far too long for the guard to come and collect you. For once you were grateful to retreat back to your cell, so much so that in your retreat you failed to notice the nod your warden gave Simon.

___

After that Simon met with you in person as often as was allowed. He never said anything and neither did you. Eventually, the novelty of him wore off. Humans were rather adaptable creatures, and you could only be scared of the man for so long before your body adjusted to him. Despite your silence, Simon didn’t appear displeased with you. In fact, it was almost the opposite of it. More gifts arrived.

A pillow, high-end shampoo, a toothbrush (that you had a strange suspicion was used before being given to you), nail polish, and more cigarettes. Some of the women were jealous of the attention given to you, others tried to get with you to share your bounty. Somehow you dodged most of the conflict. But you can only run so long while trapped with so many women.

When you showed up to your meeting sporting a bruised cheek and split lip the air quickly changed. Before you thought Simon looked like a predator. 

You were wrong.

Fear coursed through your veins and you recognized the look in his eyes. Every woman in the damn place knows what a hunger for violence looked like. Slowly he reached out an arm, the sleeve of his hoodie riding up slightly showing off tattoos, before grabbing the phone and pressing it to his ear. With a shaking hand, you did the same.

“Bird.” His voice was somehow deeper in real life than over the phone.

“You should see the other guy.”

His lips twitched.

There was something uncanny about his eyes. They weren’t brown, they were black. Obsidian. You realized that before, the first time you met him, he wasn’t trying to scare you. Though, you were pretty sure it wasn’t directed at you.

“Just a little spat is all Simon. Everything sorted itself out.”

All over a bottle of nail polish. Tempers run short in prison. You spend most of your days in a cell, and what little free time you get surrounded by the same insufferable bitches, it’s a mystery there isn’t more violence. For the most part, things were settled with words. The more physical an inmate gets the more time spent in your cell. There were some weeks where you spent twenty-three hours a day in that little room. 

Simon let out a sigh as if dealing with you was the most insufferable part of his day.

“Did ye’ get medical attention a’ least?”

You nodded your head.

He gave a grunt.

That seemed to be his preferred method of communication with you. Caveman grunts and growls, the occasional moan over the phone he couldn’t hold back. You figured it had something to do with his job. He was quite tight-lipped about it, but you gathered he has co-workers (his squad? Platoon? What was the proper lingo?). Despite this, you were under the impression he spent the majority of his time alone. He always seemed more primal after those month-long stints of silence.

You always wondered how you would feel if he never contacted you again. Went out and didn’t come back. Would you assume he was dead? That he moved on to prettier things that aren’t locked away? Would it make a difference to you? 

No. It wouldn’t.

Even now you got letters upon letters from other men. Though none were as giving as Simon was.

It was back to silence and staring contests that you were used to. The both of you slipping into a familiarity. He never put the phone back. Even when your warden came and escorted you back. You didn’t glance back at him. 

Tucked away in your cell you didn’t get to watch Simon slowly rise out of his seat, chair creaking from the shifting of his weight. You didn’t see Simon lurk in the back as the inmates met with their loved ones on the out. Didn’t see him take notice of a particular girls with nails painted the same shade as his gift to you. The same shade as the tip of his cock.

___

The girl was transferred. For a singular moment, you thought Simon had something to do with it. Then laughed at the idea. Simon may be in the military, but you highly doubted he had anything to do with the bitch who got transferred. At least you got your nail polish back. It was a strange shade, and the idea of a man as big as Simon standing in an isle trying to pick out a shade made you chuckle, it was the thought that counted.

Time marched on. Penpals came and went but Simon stayed the consistent part in your life. 

Eventually, the possibility of parole was on the horizon. 

Freedom. 

So close you could practically taste it.

Unfortunately, that meant a laundry list of to-do items. Court hearings, lawyers bankrolled by Simon, arranging for transportation and housing. Simon handled most of it. By now, the lingering guilt of using your soldier fiance had long left you. He seemed like the kind of man who needed to learn lessons the hard way, and entering a relationship with a felon was a lesson most didn’t need to learn. Still, he had been putting in quite a hard amount of work. He deserved a treat.

And after years of forced celibacy, you needed it bad.

The two of you would enjoy each other for a week or two. Simon would realize he made a mistake moving you in. He would kick you out. You’d pawn the ring he’d give you and use the money as a cushion as you landed, getting back on your feet. The two of you would go your separate ways and never see each other again.

Being in prison taught you a lot of things. Despite everything, patience wasn’t one of those lessons. The day you were gaining your freedom passed was the slowest part of your life. The checking, double checking, retrieving your stuff, checking again, until finally,

Finally,

You were outside. You were outside in something other than a uniform that stunk of sweat, there were no handcuffs. Anxiety crept everywhere. You wanted to get as far away from the prison as you could, if you breathed wrong a warden would drag you back. A pair of arms snatched you.

You looked up and couldn’t help but laugh, pressing your lips against his scarred ones.

“Fucking Christ your tall.”

He chuckled against your lips before taking them again, hands digging near painfully into your ass. The two of you somehow managed to walk back to his car peeling off one another before Simon peeled away, hand clutching the fat of your thighs as he drove.

“Never pictured you as a reckless driver.” You giggled.

The adrenaline and giddiness of being free hadn’t worn off yet. If anything it seemed to slowly be morphing into a different beast entirely. You pressed your lips against his bicep causing him to groan. You glanced up at him, watching as his jaw clenched weaving in and out of traffic in a way that was certainly not legal. You would’ve been worried about being pulled over if he wasn’t driving a military vehicle. They answered to a different police, or so he told you.

Eventually, he pulled into the yard of a house with an honest-to-God white picket fence. You smiled as you got out, curiosity creeping in about what his house was like. Simon opened the door for you, which would probably should’ve made you swoon at his gentleman-like behavior, but truthfully it was how he hauled you out of the card and dragged you inside that got your heart racing. 

Impatient.

The door barely closed before his body was pressed against yours and his lips were pressed against your jugular. One of his rough hands slipped up your shirt, grunting when he found a clear path to your tits instead of meeting the edge of a bra. The other dipped into the waistband of your pants, running over your clothed cunt, no doubt feeling the wet spot against your underwear. Your hands slid over his arms, squeezing at the muscle, before slowly sliding them up and up, going to the back of his neck, a hand threading through his short hair the other cupping his face to kiss yours. 

A large thumb found your clit, only the thin cotton stopped him from rubbing directly against it. He pressed down hard on it, causing your breath to catch in your throat, his thumb moving down your slit. The seam of your mouth parted in a moan and he used that to stick his tongue down your throat. 

The kiss was obscenely wet, beastly as his spit passed from his mouth into yours. Before prison, you would’ve pulled away with a grimace. Too much tongue, too much teeth, too much. But your whole body was on fire, years of pent-up orgasms made you desperate for it all. For someone to press against you, to be inside you.

Simon was oh-so-convenient. 

You tried to pull away, lungs burning enough to convince you that air was in fact a need, but the door stopped you. Pressed between it and Simon you had no escape. You whimpered against his mouth, again and again until he finally got the hint and pulled away, a string of spit connecting your mouths as if it too was reluctant to pull away from you.

“Bedroom?” You panted, though if he took you here against the door you would die happy.

Simon threw you over his shoulder and took his stairs two at a time before tossing you on his bed making you laugh. The caveman and his prize. Simon took the moment of being away from you to pull at the collar of his shirt. You watched in appreciation as it lifted higher and higher until it was discarded on his carpet. 

His body was marred in scar tissue, muscle, and a layer of fat that made for a solid fine specimen of the male species. His pants were discarded next, and either he pulled his underwear down with them or he just wasn’t wearing any to begin with. You didn’t have much time to ponder that thought distracted by his hard cock.

Jesus Christ.

Big was an understatement, monster was the word that popped into your mind. It crossed the territory between delicious into scary. Large and thicker than you thought possible. You swallowed and for a second hoped he would forget about the blowjob you promised him after he gave you a pillow. 

“Yer’ wearin’ too many clothes Birdie.” 

Quickly, though not as quickly as Simon was, you wiggled out of your pants, shrugged off your shirt throwing it in the same pile as his clothes. He stepped closer to you, one large hand grabbing your ankle before retching you towards him.

He leaned down, mouthing at your bare tits, slobbering over them. The soft press of his tongue flicked over your nipple before he moved to the other and grazed his teeth over it. His hands were everywhere. He was everywhere. Impossibly big and pressed against you everywhere. Until all your senses were filled with him. As if Simon was the only thing that mattered in the world.

The artificial sun in your glass cage.

His mouth moved lower, nipping at your skin before he moved between your legs. He settled his body in between them, the calloused palm of his hands pressing your legs further and further apart until the stretch burned in the muscles where your legs met your pelvis. Quickly the pain faded into the background as he pressed a kiss against your bare clit, before taking it in his mouth and sucking. You felt the rough pad of his fingertips press against your hole rubbing against it but never quite dipping inside. Again and again, he moved it against you but never in you. 

It was maddening.

You tilted your pelvis against his mouth, trying to coax his fingers into your welcoming body. He growled against your clit, removing his mouth causing you to whine. A sharp sting met your ass cheek and you yelped.

He spanked you.

“Behave.”

You never took the man to be hungry for anything other than missionary, but it seemed he had learned a few tricks over the years. He did have a few on you, you were sure of it. Your thoughts leaked out of your ears as he moved back up, slotting his hips in between your legs. Liquid lust ran through your veins at the sight of him rubbing his dick against your mound, a mess of your slick and his pre dragging along your pussy and up to your belly button. Your poor hole clenching around nothing at the image of how deep he was about to be in you.

You took a deep breath, mesmerized as he pressed the tip against your entrance, catching it before pressing himself inside. He went slowly, and you couldn’t help the moan that left you as he finally began to sink home. Throwing your head back you closed your eyes as he stretched your body out.

You weren’t a virgin before you were locked away, but years of celibacy made you feel born again. Hell, with the size Simon was even if you had fucked him before he would’ve made you feel virginal with the way he was splitting you open.

When you opened them again you caught his gaze, he stared at you watching your expression pinch as he gave small thrusts, working the last of him inside you. When his balls pressed against your ass you let out a shaky breath. You had passed your limit two inches ago but somehow Simon had managed to coax your sweet pussy to take the last of him inside. The pain of him had taken you away from the edge of an orgasm he was working you towards, but when his hand found your clit again you knew you weren’t going to last long.

If his shaky breaths were anything to go by Simon wasn’t going to last long either. 

He kissed you again, this time it was softer. Sweeter. Made your stomach turn in a moment of guilt. It was replaced when he drew out of you, slowly letting you feel inch after inch leave your body, before slamming back in.

He moved again against you. And again. Building up a punishing rhythm. You couldn’t help the small ah ah ah’s that left your lips as he rutted in you. Your hips pushed against his, working with him as you both chased your highs. 

His hand never left your clit, as if glued to it working in tight fast circles. His other hand traveled along your body as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Squeezing at your tits so hard you thought it might bruise, running up your bare skin, constantly moving and feeling. As if he couldn’t believe that you were real. That you were out of your cage and underneath him panting his name in his ear instead of against the end of a phone. 

Your own hands wandered. Moving over his arms, God’s gift to you, his chest. But mostly they moved down his back, feeling his muscles move and contract under your hands. Before you left you would convince him to put a mirror over his bed, so you could watch his shoulders shift and move as he thrust inside you.

It was too much. The feel of Simon, the stimulation on your clit, the thick cock pistoning like a machine inside you, pressure built and built inside you. Your nails dug into his back, dragging down as he pushed you off that ledge.

Simon’s thrusts stuttered as he felt your walls fluttering around him, suckling at his cock, coaxing him. He came with a groan soon after you, painting your walls with thick globs of his cum.

You panted as he rested against you, letting his cock soften inside you as you ran your nails over the nape of his neck and caressed his short hair. It was oddly soft, comforting to run your hands over.

Simon began to untangle himself from you, slowly as if reluctant to part from your embrace. He moved to what you now realize was the on-suite connected to his bedroom. You could feel his cum start to drip out of your cunt and down your asshole, shifting at the uncomfortable feeling. You couldn’t find the energy yet to move, not even sure if your legs could support you right now. Simon came back to you, wash-cloth in hand, and began wiping up the mess he made.

“We’ll have to get a Plan B tomorrow.” You murmured as he crawled back into bed next to you.

Simon didn’t say anything, but he had always been a quiet man. He maneuvered the both of you until you rested under the covers, your hand running along his bare chest. Tracing his happy trail before moving back up, not ready to go again.

The adrenaline from before had worn off, leaving you suddenly exhausted. Sated and free you dozed off against him.

When you woke up again it was darker outside. Not yet the full black of night but rather the soft blue that came after the sun had only just dipped out of sight. Simon wasn’t in bed next to you. You rolled over with a sigh, sitting up and smoothing your hair. Thirsty you threw the covers off your body and padded across out of his room entering into a small hallway. There was a door directly across his room and with a shrug, you went into it. 

It wasn’t snooping if you lived here now too. Even if you were only going to stay for a little bit.

The handle turned easily but the room was darker than you expected, no windows to let in any natural light. Your hands patted at the wall until you found the edge of a light switch, with a click the room was bathed in a soft glow.

Your breath hitched.

The room was bare except for a small desk and chair, the walls were covered in photos. Photos of you. Old photos, from before your prison stint. Mugshots. But what made your skin crawl were photos of you in your cell. You sprawled out on your uncomfortable cot. You sitting cross-legged across from your cellmate. Images of you in the cafeteria. Images of you in the yard. 

You took a step back, then another, and another.

You flicked the light back off and slowly closed the door. You took a shuddering breath and yelped when you felt a chest pressed against yours. 

Simon’s hands dug into your hips, pulling you tight against him.

“You look like you’ve seen a Ghost, Birdie.”

Poor little bird, trading one cage for another.

___

Part Two

[screampied]

ʚ BUBBLE, POP, ELECTRIC ?! ɞ

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. it’s your birthday and your sugar daddy takes you on a spree to the mall. perhaps buying a new set of panties with his initials engraved on it to tease him wasn’t the brightest idea. get in loser, you’re going shopping.

wc. 5.5k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), unprotected, semi-public risky themes, dry humping, implied multiple rounds, lots of praise, squırting, fıngering, dumbification, ōral (f! receiving), dirty talk, brēeding, petnames.

➤ sd!gojo masterlist

“a- anything?”

“anything, darlin,” satoru hums with a teasing smile, burying both hands into his pockets. your face lit up as he happily slides his black card into your palm. it had a glinting shine to it, your eyes gape at the sixteen digit code plastered on the front with his full name in bold, ‘satoru gojo.’ the both of you stood near the center of a busy, packed mall. it was an ordinary hot friday, and since it was also your birthday, he decided why not let you pick your special gift. the older man leans down, planting a kiss against your forehead. “go crazy, yeah? ‘s your day, gorgeous. the pricier, the better. buy something that’ll be easy ‘ta tear off. oh, i mean uh— buy something pretty, heh.”

you felt a wave of heat burn over you. you could never, never get enough his praises. satoru’s eyes remain on you as you clutch on one of the many purses he bought you. “toru, you don’t have to.”

“shh, you’re my baby,” he reassures you, pulling you close. you lean into his embrace, feeling the palm of his hand caress circles against your back. he feels the thin straps of your top glue against your skin. his cologne, it was forevermore intoxicating. in a husky low tone, satoru whispers. “i wanna spoil you extra hard today,” and you gasp, feeling him nuzzle into your neck. “what do ya say, sweets? i heard victoria’s secret has a few new deals goin’ on right now, heh.”

you spent the next good hour shopping, going to any store that just so happened to pique your fancy. you told gojo that you’d save victoria’s secret for last, and he nodded.

of course, he tagged along with you. like the gentleman he was, he carried your weighty bags for you like they were nothing.

“gonna run me for my money, huh sweets?” he snickers, an arm slinging around your shoulder as you stood beside him on the escalator. as it slowly took you both upstairs—you let off a tiny exhale. you were preparing to go toward the second floor of the mall.

with a coy smile, you brush a thumb against the edges of your skirt. “o- oh, sorry ‘toru,” and you knew he was teasing, he’d buy you the world if he could. he was stood so close next to you that you could almost always get a good whiff of his loud scent. “didn’t mean to get so much stuff.”

“sweetheart, i’m joking you know that,” he hums, stepping back to let you get off the moving escalator first. it was so packed, dozens of people walking around each part of the centre. it was full of chatter and laughter. a whirring breeze sets against your skin as he steps beside you, leaning down to plant a kiss near your forehead. “tired out yet? or do ya have more pretty stuff ‘ta buy?”

speaking of pretty, satoru gojo was the prettiest.

he stood out in the mall—he was an elite businessman but people were smart enough to not disturb him while he’s spending time with you.

so classy, he was always wearing the finest richest suits, preferably black or white ones. long, stretched out slacks to show off his legs and his hair. gojo’s hair was always neatly done, as he aged he usually settled with a parted style, a visible undercut to run his fingers through to pass time.

thin white bangs would run down his eyes a few times—occluding his vision. gojo would often find himself digging his hands into his pockets as he happily watches you drain his wallet.

“we can go get some lingerie now,” you murmur out, hearing some random pop song blare through the mall’s speakers.

“we? aw, am i gettin’ dolled up too?”

he peers at you as your expression twists to abashed embarrassment. gojo chuckles, a soft thumb brushing against your cheek lovingly. “you’re so cute, i’m teasing. let’s go then, lead the way princess.”

you ended up getting at least three new sets, including the brand new panties gojo’s been rambling to you about nonstop.

he told you how he’s recently got a partnership with the store.

a million dollar partnership at that — his new ‘satoru gojo’ limited edition panties were finally launched, and at first the idea of his name on underwear made him grouse. thanks to gojo’s hefty contribution to the company, they’ve gained a lot of new customers over the past summer. but, the moment you pick them out with a cute curious smile, he only cared about how you’d like them. so far, he’s heard from the reviews of buyers that it was quite soft, cottony and synthetic.

waterproof also, and gojo being gojo brought that specific fact up to you about a dozen times.

“can i open my eyes now, darlin'?” a low, husky yet playful voice calls out. gojo sat manspread in the dressing room, awaiting for you to show the final results of the product. “mhh, ‘s kinda dangerous to jus’ let my imagination roam, you know.”

“hold on, satoru.” you roll your eyes, slipping on the panties. they were really pretty, they fit perfectly and had tiny blue bows on the side.

you spun around near the nearby mirror, taking in your figure. it had a thong yet bikini type shape to them. stretchy and all, not to mention it was very comfortable—not too tight whatsoever. right on the back, you spot the infamous letters that were sewn in bedazzled rhinestones, front ‘n center.

‘ satoru gojo, ’

you felt a brew of heat tickle its way down your thighs before you strut toward the white haired man. even sitting down, he’s so attractive. long legs stretch themselves out as he’s laid back against the concrete wall. he’s surrounded by colorful bent hangers, the dressing room was spacey enough. as he sat on the bench, he taps his foot. “baby, i can feel you lookin’ at me. are ya done?”

“yeah,” you utter, slowly removing his hands away from his eyes. “you can look now.”

it takes him a moment to register the sight — you stand still, feeling his cerulean blue eyes awe at your beauty.

oh, your curves, his blown irises linger everywhere so intently that it makes you feel small in the best way. your heart’s thumps accelerate as he’s got a growing smug smile curling against his pink lips.

“oh my,” he purrs out, a hand cupping under his chin. his expensive g-shock shimmers against the luminescent ceiling light as also he gently pulls his bottom lip down. his stare makes you nervous and you don’t even know why. “spin around for me.”

you do, twirling your body slowly and his eyes get a front view of your ass. you still wore your blouse, feeling his gaze burn into your rear.

“goddamn,” and you let off a soft breath, feeling his hands gingerly creep up against your thighs. “you look gorgeous in anything,” he whispers, inching his lips toward your backside. gojo then drags his twitching, crooked lips toward the left cheek of your ass. it smooches against the lace fabric, a thumb stroking the letters of his own name. “i’ll buy this entire brand just to see you walk around ‘n these for me, sweetheart.”

“satoru don’t do that,” you protest, gasping once he parts your legs open a bit. with you, his touch was always gentle. he couldn’t ever keep his hands off of you though. his strokes continue to roam, and that’s when he playfully bites your ass cheek. “h- hey!”

“sorry, baby,” he chuckles, giving it a soft teasing smack. gojo hears you whine out in need before he turns you back around. “mhh, don’t give me that pout. come give ‘toru some sugar instead.”

your heart always flutters whenever he says that, those sweet words never fail to strike right into your heart. churning the pit insides of your stomach that’s already packed with butterflies swarming everywhere.

as you slowly make your way toward him, tantalizingly, he cocks his head to the right.

“don’t be shy, i won’t bite today,” he flashes you a soft toothy grin, patting his lap for you to take your favorite seat. wasting no time, you sit on his lap, your bare skin brushing up against his loose fitted slacks. “good girl,” and his hands meet your waist. zeroing his eyes down your sweet physique, he strokes your bottom lip. “closer.”

the moment you finally close the distance, your lips press against his. a cheeky smile curls against his mouth — a groan shortly following out of his throat, betraying his playful demeanor. you moan, finding it impossible to not move a bit against him. as you gradually grind against his lap, delving your tongue between his, he lets off a sharp breath. “mhm,” pretty snowy lashes of his shut tight, fluttering as he’s poking a single thumb against your hip. gojo tastes sweet, sweeter than he’s ever been. peppermint lives on his tongue, running against your tastebuds and with utmost grace, you relish in it. the flavor, its additive and his touch wasn’t helping. a raspy groan slithers into your mouth once your grinding speeds up, the bottom part of your panties grazes against his secret growing boner and he huffs.

“f- fuck, baby,” he snarls, breaking away from the kiss to look down. there, he spots it. he was indeed hard, he’s been hard this entire time you’ve been splurging hefty amounts on his black card. the moment you gave him a little show of the sediment panties, that was the final straw. “you’re such a tease, y’know,” and you gasp once he slides a lengthy finger toward the cottony fabric. “ooh, is someone already a mess? lemme see ya.”

and as you’re just barely hovering over his lap, legs sprawled apart for him, he swipes the fat print of his thumb inside. “s- satoruuu.” you hiss out, the last syllable of his name elongated and cutely dramatic. a bit loud, you had to remind yourself the two of you were in a store. indeed, you were soaked already. part of you thinks it was because of his showering praises.

every time he calls you a ‘good girl’ or his ‘pretty girl’ you felt the stickiness between your thighs dampen. it was just embarrassing.

“can’t believe you’ve been hidin’ this mess this entire time,” the white haired man almost pouts, a tone of playfulness humming underneath his tone. two of his fingers poke their way between the middle part of your panties, prodding against your soppy pussy. “oh, look at that. so fuckin’ nasty,” and cunning blue eyes flicker straight at you, making you gulp in ignominy. “sweetheart, you do know i gotta pay for this. did ya forget?”

“o- oh.” and reality hits you again. he was right, you were soaking panties that weren’t even bought yet.

you could feel yourself dripping, a little damp spot forming its way against the woolen linen.

“yeah, oh,” he mocks your cute surprised word, easing a single thumb past your slit. it’s swollen, he feels the eager twitch of it and your legs rock back in lewd rapture. “awh, how cute. you want my thumb, princess?”

“y- yes,” you whine, tossing your arms over his broad shoulders. the man eyes you with a haughty expression, continuing to flick the edge of his thumb in and out of your puffed clit. the panties were still on and you clenched your jaw before letting off a needy sigh. “take them off, ‘toru. please.”

he gives you a long stare before humming. “nah,” and a pout twines against your glossed lips. with his right hand, it grips your ass, his thumb resuming to fondle your skin before it tenderly starts to go in. “silly girl. panties are for wearing,” he teases, and your lips part themselves open once he successfully eases his way inside. you’re already so sloppy, spiraling all underneath his fingers. a white brow of gojo’s crimps into an intrigued furrow before he buries his nose into your neck. “ah, ah. don’t hold back those moans, let me hear that pretty voice.”

“but- we’re in public.”

“i won’t be crazy this time, i promise sweets, heh.”

total lie,

he says he won’t be crazy yet here you were bent over, face shoved into the wall, legs all parted. you moan, feeling his tongue dip straight into your cunt, slurping a loooong suck of your honeyed sweet. your thighs weakly tremble a bit at the teasing sensation of his stubble gracefully bristling against your skin. your cheek presses up on the glass of the other mirror that sits up against the wall. “f- fuuuuck.” you whimper out, toes curling up in utter ecstasy. his tongue, it was always so messy. messy and long, you whimper out once he dives straight in.

dipping in and out, no manners whatsoever. he’s nose deep, lolling it out all the way until he’s shamelessly drooling down your drizzling folds.

even still,

your panties were still on the entire time — they were lazily pulled to the side. with his eyes closed, he’s letting his tongue wander everywhere. you whine, digging the edges of your teeth into your bawled up fist. “arch more baby,” he whispers, hot breath ghosting right against your cunt. the store was blasting obnoxiously loud music, you hoped no one would walk in, hoped no one would see. the door was closed but still. once he watches your back obediently raise up at his command, he hums, nibbling right against your cunt. “atta girl, gimme that arch, uh huh.”

gojo groans, eating you out from behind, using a single hand to make your legs spread just a bit further. the continuous squeaks that pours out your lips makes him ten times harder than he already was. “ngh, t- toru,” you start to huff, feeling a crushing pull yank its way at your lungs. your breathing only started to get more crazed. as he’s spelling out the ten different letters of his name. you whine out a sobbing mewl, feeling the way his tongue curls once he flicks a sweet ‘s’ in your pussy. the swirl — your back only arches more, the skin of your cheek practically glued against the mirror. “ohmygodd.”

“y’r so fuckin’ hot,” he purrs out, and you’re so busy focused on his tongue that you didn’t even realize he had two fingers shoved inside you already. they’re so long, they reach into the very caves of your walls, specific spots that you didn’t even know could be located. with a swift motion, his fingertips curl around your cunt, feeling the gripping squeeze. “mhm, that’s it. bare around ‘em just like that,” and he’s making out with your cunt, giving it multiple french kisses. your legs were so close to giving up, you could feel that same annoying smile rub against your pussy. as your lip shivers, you start to breath heavier.

puffing and huffing . . heaving as you let off the same pathetic whimpers for more, more of his sloppy tongue.

he slurps everywhere, making sure to not miss a single spot. gojo sucks against your clitoral hood, knowing just how sensitive that spot made you. as you’re coating not only his fingers but his chin at the same time with your sheeny juices, you couldn’t help but swallow your pity. “i- i’m gonna cum,” you moan, a hand of yours reaching behind to grab onto his head. it lands near the top, gripping onto his strands and shoving him further into your pussy. “satoru, agh,” and you had to cup a hand over your mouth, growing paranoid once your heard a few people right outside your stall.

shit, shit, shit,

all you heard from gojo was that same raspy chuckle as he pumps in his two fingers inside your pussy with the most presumptuous grin on his face. as he’s bent on his knees, his chin was soaked with your slick.

every few seconds, he pries himself off to breathe and clean the lower part of his chiseled face with his tongue. “c’mon, baby. wait a little f’r me,” and his tepid breath repeatedly fans against your fevered skin. the pleasure — the pulsation, you were found with your legs spread and jaw dropped. so close, you could merely taste a salty tang that’s forming on your sugared tastebuds.

satoru gojo was a eater, and he could eat you all day if he really really wanted. your pout from his words makes him laugh. he spots your dumb expressions through the mirror propped up directly in front of you before he starts to spit on your cunt. “ugh, look at her. always so shiny ‘n slick,” and with bright eyes, he stares at the way his saliva trickles down your puckering hole. “ooh,” gojo breaks his mouth away again, lustrous cobwebs of spit dripping down his lips. frantically, you were shaking once he suddenly stopped. as his two fingers still plugged inside of your pussy, he gives the outer part of your entrance teasing pecks. “such a wet girl. listen to her with me, sweetheart.”

“s— fuckk, ‘toru,” you babble out, a sharp swat of his free palm hitting against your ass. suddenly, the cramped up dressing room felt hot. blazing, and yet, your thighs were even hotter. with your lips betraying themselves, curling into a circular shape in pleasure, you barely could make yourself stand still. “pleaseplease.”

“no, baby,” he gifts your cunt it’s final kiss, one of his hands running down your thighs. you had glossy slick racing down and he takes the opportunity to lap it right up with his tongue. “only sound i wanna hear is this pretty pussy talkin’ back to me. let’s hear what she’s got ‘ta say.”

the sounds of your own cunt was so lewd. it’s crying squelching rings and reverberates off the walls.

abruptly, you grow quiet and he hums, slowly dragging out his two long fingers before you gush out straight away.

your eyes were as wide as saucers, electric shocking currents travel through every part of your body as you come undone on his tongue. as you whine into your palm, your eyebrows come together into a furrow.

“mph,” you whimper, feeling your thighs shake. it’s so much that within seconds, you feel yourself spraying against his tongue until you couldn’t anymore. it felt like your life flashed before your eyes. the tenderness of it all was almost too much to bare. as you’re still violently shaking on his pink twitching muscle, gojo spreads your ass apart, growing drunk at your taste before he chuckles against your clit - teeth nibbling against your sensitive, puffed folds.

“my baby’s velocity just gets better ‘n better,” he snickers, giving your right ass cheek a frisky kiss.

as he stands up again, he faces you — watching as your eyes were all droopy ‘n hooded.

“c’mere,” and you felt your cunt throb as you fall into his touch, pressing your lips right back against him. right away, your tongue gets met with the taste of yourself on him. you tasted sweet, he’s always described you as sweet anyway. gojo groans, lifting up your thigh before making you lie back. “good girl. ‘s just you ‘n me. let me spoil you today, princess.”

glancing down, you spot his slacks that were just barely hanging on. they were half on, dark blue boxers clinging onto his perfectly sculptured waistline. you spot a bit of a peeking white happy trail that’s curly — sticking against his skin.

“s- satoru,” you pant, pawing your hands at his already open fly. he ogles at you, popping the two wet fingers that were stuffed into your cunt literally just a few seconds ago right into his mouth. you watch, growing more aroused as he sucks on his digits right in front of you.

“satoru what, baby?” he leans down, springing out his cock. it was quick, he fishes through his boxers before whipping it out, wrapping a single bare hand around his fat length. giving it a few pumps, a thumb of his swipes against his pulsing vein and he groans. with a snarl, he bites into your neck. “you don’t wanna wait ‘till we get home, huh?”

“no,” you whimper, and he lets you take control a bit.

with shaky hands, you make him sit flat against his back, a cute shove goes against his chest and he huffs. “want you, ‘toru,” and he smiles at how out of breath you were, still trying to overcome your more recent, nirvana filled high. as you get on his lap, straddling him, you lean right up to the older man’s face. “please.”

he returns your lust-filled gaze, a hand of his creeping toward the curvature of your ass. “such a sweet girl. with manners like that, i could never say no,” he coos to you, helping you align your entrance against his reddened tip. with your panties still on, string passively pulled toward the crevices of your thighs, you whine. “there’s that sweet ‘lil moan,” he brings you closer toward his neck. the veins that ran down his cock pulse even quicker. “mhm, c’mon sweets,” he playfully pulls your hands away from your face. “i wanna see those eyes roll back. don’t be shy, ride me girl.”

and as he’s careful to sink you down on his cock, your legs wrap around his slim waist like a vice.

a hand of yours tugs onto his tie, giving it a little forceful pull. gojo’s hair was all ruffled — white strands everywhere, you had him a mess and right where you wanted.

whenever you straddled him like this, you always took his breath away and that hungry gaze you always give him, fuck you were dangerous.

intaking a sharp, deep breath, he’s halfway in now. gojo’s so thick and bulky that it feels like he’s fully in.

balls fucking deep,

a whimper pulls out of your vocal cords as his tip kisses your sweet swollen insides. his own eyelashes were half-lidded and he’s panting right with you, frigid cold band of his watch rubbing off against your skin. the saturated squelches of your pussy were so loud, he holds onto your hips before a pussy drink grin tugs against both corners of his lips. “attaaaa girl. move those hips, ride me good, birthday girl.”

the friction was so delicious, so appetizing..

you were barely moving but you felt like you were gonna screw up and cream all down his shaft. with your face still burying itself into the crook of his neck, your hips finally start to adapt to some sort of steady rhythm. gojo huskily grunts, feeling the welcoming grip your cunt gifts him every time he goes inside. the elastic stretch always makes him short circuit. as his blushing tip thrashes its way inside, your hips roll and it’s only then that you start to sloppily lurch against his lap.

“t- toruuu,” you sob out in a sweet broken syllable, your own words sticking against your tongue. strong, built arms hold you upright as you’re making steady haste. the music of the store seems to get louder and you don’t even care if you get caught anymore.

with the way his cockhead’s smooching up against your sweet spot, you’re already dumb, stupid ‘n hungry for more of your beloved sugar daddy. your whines always ghost right up against his earlobe, falling on deaf ears every time. your sweet, carnal sounds makes his dick twitch. the electric pulse surges through your cunt and you feel it — shivering, glancing at him and he shoots you a flashy, sheepish grin. “yeah, ‘s okay baby. doin’ so good for me.”

even still, you’re adjusting to his size. the big stretch has your lips parted and circular, moans spilling out of your lips again and again until you were a broken record.

every single time, gojo’s cock extends inside of you through and through. it’s like it comes natural to him. no matter how many times he’d please you, you’d always end up getting a bit more stretched out than the last time.

a constant lewd loop,

“s— satoru,” you start to whine again, swiveling your hips against him. he’s seated down on the bench, taking in your body and the way your breasts bounce. he can’t help but snatch a feel, bringing a hand toward your left mound, squeezing two fingers against your nipples. with your frilly blouse still on, he’s just tugging against fabric but you start feel the familiar incoming shockwaves of pleasure. you let off a tiny squeal, head tossing back and your teeth digging into your bottom lip. “ngh, ‘toru. ‘m sensitive.”

“baby you’re always sensitive,” he teases.

lowering his head down between your neglected tits, gojo pulls up your blouse and leisurely slides his tongue down the sheeny crack of your chest. you’ve got a bit of a glow, probably from your recent teeth shattering orgasm. “mhm, look at my girls. they get prettier every time i see ‘em,” and as you’re still swaying your hips against him, he pops out one of your tits from your bra, sucking against the tender skin. you whimper over and over, he can barely get a good solid suck from the constant movement of your hips. you’re jittery, repeatedly moving back and forth against him, about to erupt as if your cunt was a volcano. “thaaat’s my girl, always taste so sweet.”

you ruffle his hair a bit as he’s latching his mouth against one of your sore nipples. the mobility of your hips so sloppy and unstable. he tends to each nipple, latching his wet lips against the sore mounds before slobbering all over it. as you’re grinding against him in an alluring manner, your eyes start to roll back. “toru, ngh. ‘s fuckin’ big,” you squeak out in a tiny mewl, your voice entirely small.

you’re moving so much that he could barely keep up, burying his face into your chest. his hot breath tickles against your skin — it’s feverish, sending a multitude of shivers to race down your spine.

he grunts in annoyance at your bra in the way, snatching it down to properly attach his plump lips against your neglected nipples. gojo sucked until they were all sore ‘n swollen, madly pulsating from the salacious stimulation. he eyes you with a teasing simper, a crinkle informing underneath his eye as he licks up his saliva dripping down the bare valley of your chest.

“y’r always a perfect fit though,” he whispers, another groan leaving out of his throat. as he’s leaning back again, allowing you to continue riding him, you’re just completely dumbfounded.

irises were dilated, lungs were full, toes curled.

you moan once he spanks your ass at the feeling of your hips slowing down, his way of encouraging you to keep at it. with your frilly blouse pulled up, he gawks at your body and admires how you match his crazed tempo, rolling and mirroring the same amounts of rickety.

“my fuckin’ girl,” he grunts, a hand sliding down your ass again, spanking it again. “uh huuuh,” his tongue slides against his lips, averting his gaze at your seductive looking hips. “just like that, sweetheart. niiiice ‘n slow, ‘toru’s not going anywhere.”

as you’re jerking forward against him, constantly bouncing against his thickset, bulky base — your jaw hangs wide open. he’s reached your sweet spot, it’s out of nowhere and you feel a bundle of nerves scream all through out you. your limbs were getting weary, and as your arms wrap around his shoulders, you nibble on his chin. “satoru, satoru, f— fuuuuck.”

he chuckles, watching as both of your eyes close tight, feeling one of your hands slither its way inside of his dress shirt. “hm,” he looks down, and your fingertips feel against his chiseled washboard abs. your pace was relentless, and with the feeling of just how ripped he was, you felt that same twitch arise in your cunt again. “fuck yeah, baby. touch me anywhere you like. this body ‘s all yours,” and you moan from his provocative words, still moving back and forth. gojo’s scent made itself well known throughout the entire dressing room. his abs instinctively clench from your gentle yet tender touch. “make me feel so good.”

“i- i do?” you moan, his words alone sending you a plethora of spine-chilling chills everywhere. they linger for a long time before you feel yourself starting to tighten. you were hungry for his approval, his praise — anything.

“yes, sweetheart,” he grunts, cupping your face as your hips continue to rock against him. he was reaching his inevitable limit and so were you, gojo’s face turns flustered and his pretty blue eyes flicker backward for a moment. that action alone was sexy, only you made him like this. “you like hearin’ what you do to me, huh?”

his voice was always so low — deep ‘n pitchy, it had the right amount of rasp hiding underneath it.

the timbre, it was a huskiness that always got you soaked. gojo moved his hands back down toward your waist, helping you keep up your frantic rhythm. every few seconds, you felt his throbbing dick plunge in and out of your drooling cunt. it’s so thorough, and every once and a while, it slips out. “fuuuck,” he groans, lifting you up before aligning himself back in. “got me workin’ over time, baby. stay still, yeah.”

your sweet nub was constantly being kissed up against, and you’re already so so stupid.

metaphoric heart eyes form through your pupils as you twitched ‘n fluttered on his cock. the moment you came again, and again, and again, there was barely a thought in your mind. you were always left being a puddled mess, swollen walls perfectly ravaged and stretched out.

it’s probably been about a good hour or two.

the dressing room had a sweet smell of tangy sweat and cologne—you whimper, babbling repeatedly as you’re now bent back over again.

but this time, gojo’s fucking you from behind.

he’s probably had you do various positions, and he was just about to finish again, anticipating to see another load pour right into your puffy pussy.

“s- shit,” he swallows a lump residing in his throat, catching your secretive hand trying to reach down and touch yourself. “princess..”

you pause, your hand staying still and he chuckles — pressing right up against your ass. he’s still pumping you full mid-thrust, a free hand wrapping its way around the back of your throat. his tone sounded like you’d just been caught redhanded. “aw, someone’s eager. but you always ask before touchin’ this sloppy pussy, right?”

with your breath hitching, he’s continuing to reel you back into his sharp hips within each piston of a thrust. with your mouth opened wide, you moan. “y- yes,” and as he’s jutting his cock into your gripping walls, you whimper out a sweet question of want. “can i touch myself, ‘toru?”

“let me think, baby.”

and you whine, a pouty expression marinating against your features as he’s got you pressed up against the mirror once more. gojo chuckles, clammy hands squeezing against your ass. “oh, you big baby. ‘m joking, go ‘head princess.”

as your fingers skid down your sopping pussy, it’s immediately coated with your slick. you whine, feeling his pace go faster before he groans. after a while, he’s just about there. gojo’s eyes remain fixated on your pretty rear — skin against skin clashing onto each other in such sync ‘n harmony.

his orgasm hits him like a truck. as a pretty translucent ring forms around his heavy cock, lust foils at his brain. “hah, fuck, pretty. such a mess, arch more for me, good girl. good fuckin’ girl.”

with the way he’s praising you continuously, you felt the constant twitches of your pussy cling onto his length. as your limbs were shaky ‘n on their final concluding hinges, you grow quiet at the feeling of him dumping in yet another sweet sticky load of cum. in the process — he coats the fabric of your panties with his mess, luxuriating in how sloppy you looked.

everything feels so slow - it’s probably been hours.

the current song that’s playing on the speakers, you’ve heard that same chorus for at least three times now.

it’s so warm inside, the flushed left temple of your cheek sticks against the mirror as you’re pressed right up against it. “f- fuck.” you wheeze out, allowing him to pump you full of creamy, velvety loads. he groans, throwing his head back and letting off a deep exhale. pretty lashes of his flutter shut as he’s staring openly at the way your cunt swallows its favorite bittersweet meal. with his mushroom tip still thrashing against the bulb of your sensitive clit, he gradually pulls out.

gojo’s eyes remain at your backside — gazing at the way he’s overflowed you with ropes ‘n ropes of hot wads of cum.

he licks his lips, staring in awe at how it dribbles down your thighs so effortlessly. it’s so messy,

a thumb of his swipes down the inner crevices of your thighs, getting a taste of it himself. “such a pretty girl,” he huffs, bringing the same thumb up to his lips to get a good enough taste. with the honeyed concoction of both flavors, he hums in contentment. “awww,” he stands up, taking in your dumbed down state. you were still panting, cum dripping out of your swollen hole.

you’ve still got a brief portion of your fist in your mouth - trying to suppress your sweet noises, split knuckles tickling against your tongue. “cute. c’mere, princess.”

you shudder, feeling him reposition your panties whilst pulling up your frilled skirt. with a teasing smile, he kisses your forehead, giving the fat of your ass one more squeeze. “you did so good,” and once he’s making sure you’re okay, with glossed eyes—you leer as he drags his slacks back up, zipping up his fly. as you gawk, gojo looks so handsome. ruffled white strands all over the place and his once professional dress shirt was now all unbuttoned ‘n scruffy. “hm,” he catches you staring, and he strokes the bottom of your chin. “you look hungry for more,” and his voice gets a bit low, he pressed a soft kiss against your lips, watching as you pout once he devastatingly pulls away. “happy birthday baby.”

“t- thank you, ‘toru,” you speak, trying to catch your breath. abruptly, you’re suddenly being lifted up by him, bridal style. a gasp wrenches out of you before you involuntary hurl your feeble, numb arms over his tense shoulders. he smells so good, you sink your face into the collar of his tux, feeling his body rumble from a chuckle.

“welcome,” and he unlocks the dressing room, walking out with you in nowhere but his warms. glancing at you, he whispers in a sweet low tone. “let’s get you outta here, hm? a nice warm bath ‘s waitin’ for ya at home. don’t want my baby’s limbs to be all sore.”

and as gojo’s carrying you and your bags with one arm supporting underneath you—he continues to make his way toward the front of the store.

he’s met with a few eyes yet he could care less. all he cared about was you, his pretty princess.

you shift a bit in his arms, still feeling creamy remnants of his cum plug you full even while being protected by your panties and skirt. it sticks against the fabric and you couldn’t help but grow flustered, feeling your thighs glue ‘n stick together. as he’s just about to leave out the door, he’s interrupted by the loud sound of a beep.

it’s the anti-theft security alarm, and gojo groans once he’s stopped by one of the employees.

“sir, i think you forgot to pay.”

“oh right,” the white haired man rubs the back of his neck, gently placing you back down on your feet. you glance up at him and your forehead’s met with another one of his tender, sweet kisses. “stay put, baby.”

you nod, watching as his back turns. he trods toward the cashier, whipping out his black card that he had you use for the majority of the day. as he’s paying for your items, he apologizes for the inconvenience with the most faux unknowing expression. gojo leaves a big tip in advance before making his way back toward you.

his staggering height stands tall and he slings an arm over your shoulder. he grabs your bags, having you lean against him as you both finally make your way out of the store.

“c’mon, darlin,” gojo mutters in a low tone, guiding you out of the mall. he’s still holding you close, but he stops briefly to plant a kiss near the inside of your neck. “still not done makin’ a mess out of my messy baby girl.”