#happy v-day you fuckers

[joelsgoldrush]

“crawl home to her” | 7.5k

old man!logan x f!reader

SUMMARY: Will he be able to control himself once he's near you? In this moment, he feels more animal than human. Creeping, on the verge of crawling, back to you. OR Like a sinner seeking absolution, he finds his way back to you after every absence, as if you're the only salvation he's ever known.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni smut 18+ cursing. drinking. dirty talk. some fluff. comfort. feelings. self-deprecation. miscommunication. sort of established relationship. age gap (reader's in her late 20s). petnames. religious imagery. logan's POV. chauffeur!logan. dom!logan. reader wears logan's dog tags and clothes. pussy pronouns. phone sex. oral sex (f and m receiving). 69. fingering. masturbation (he jerks off in the limo). one (1) single spank. sort of rough sex. unprotected p in v. creampie.

A/N: i wrote this as a part 2 of this story, but still, it can be read as a standalone (i'd recommend that you also read the first part as well 👀 you'll understand their relationship better). hope you like this one! <3

Logan is tired. Bone-deep, soul-crushingly tired.

He takes a slow, deliberate drag from his cigar, letting the smoke curl inside his chest, teasing his lungs. Doesn’t even bother to crack the window open—why would he?—before exhaling, the haze lingering inside the limo like a fog.

One quick glance at his phone screen just to make sure his vision isn’t screwing him over—no older notifications. A pang of disillusionment settles in his being.

Not only is he fighting to keep his eyes open, exhausted from driving the same family around for the past few days while they enjoy their quality time, but he’s also bored out of his mind. 

Where the hell are you?

He adjusts his glasses, pushing them higher up on the bridge of his nose, preventing them from sliding down to his lap. When his phone buzzes, he jolts, nearly hitting his head on the roof of the limo due to his excitement.

His poor heart gallops as he fumbles with the screen, unlocking it with the same urgency as a man starved for contact.

But it’s not you. It’s one of his passengers.

We’re getting out in half an hour, the message reads. By we, she means herself, her husband, and their two kids.

Logan can’t bring himself to type an actual reply, so he leaves her on read. She knows he’s not going anywhere, parked outside the arcade as if he’s rooted in place with no way out.

Family after family enters that hell on earth, kids of all ages bouncing on their heels, voices shrill with enthusiasm. He watches, half-heartedly, as parents get dragged by their little ones, who negotiate how much money they are allowed to spend tonight.

He almost feels bad for those parents. Almost. He hopes that at least they know how to say ‘No’.

All in all, he’s got another thirty minutes of solitude ahead. The radio has long since ceased to entertain him. He’s been parked here for two hours, and his mind is starting to drift. He could stretch his legs, walk around, or maybe grab a drink—but damn it.

He wants to talk to you.

You’d said he could call you after dropping the family off. That was three hours ago. The last message he received from you was still stuck in his head, replaying over and over like a lifeline. Logan knows you must be busy, probably taking care of Charles and—

Okay, he’ll get back to that later. 

You: Just got out of the shower. Call me in five?

Right now, he could die a happy man. Were he a dog, his tail would be wagging furiously, anticipation already building for the simple joy of hearing you.

Logan: Got it.

The next five minutes feel like an eternity. He finishes his cigar, flicking the stub beneath the seat without giving it a second thought. For now, he doesn’t care about being a messy fucker. He’ll deal with the mess some other time.

Priorities.

A quick spritz of some cheap air freshener he picked up from a gas station fills the car, masking the distinctive scent of smoke. God forbid the kids start whining about how ‘weird’ it smells in the limo.

With a grimace, he sprays a little more—floral, of all scents? It feels insulting.

How kind of him to still be this considerate.

His thumb hovers over your contact, and he presses the call button with an agility he hasn’t had in years (thanks to you).

One, two, three rings, and then—

“Logan,” you say softly, your voice a little breathless, like you’ve been hurrying all over the place.

He stops grinding his jaw, the tension in his shoulders easing. He unclenches his fists, fingers uncurling one by one, as if letting go of some invisible burden.

Outside the vehicle, people stop dying, babies stop being born, and the world itself pauses just for him to listen to you.

You can’t see him, but he smiles either way. “Hey, baby.”

“Gosh, I’m so sorry. I lost track of time talking to Charles. We had dinner, and then I just—I felt so gross, you know? From cooking and all that. Took a shower, and it got pretty late.”

You end with a sigh, and he imagines you rubbing a hand over your face. “Please tell me you weren’t sleeping when I texted you.”

“Not even close. Still waiting for them.”

“They’re really taking their time, huh?”

“You wouldn’t believe it,” he murmurs, his fingers drumming a soft rhythm on the steering wheel. “How was your day?”

“Great! I’m already in bed.”

“My bed.”

You laugh, that sweet sound making his heart stutter. “Well, yeah. Where else do you want me to sleep if I’m at your place? On the floor?”

If someone had told Logan a year ago that he’d let someone live in his space, let alone take care of Charles, he’d have scoffed. "Pathetic," he’d have said, rolling his eyes with that familiar growl in his throat. Pretty sure he’d also puffed his chest while saying so.

Because Logan Howlett wasn’t one for accepting help. He’s been on his own since the earth was still cooling down.

But for you? He made exceptions. Plenty of them. And if it weren’t for your altruism, he wouldn’t have accepted this job—a job that pays well enough to cover Charles’ meds and put food on the table. He needs this rich family’s money.

“You’ve got a girlfriend now?” Charles had asked, when Logan explained he’d be staying with you while he went away for a few days.

“Big word you’re using there,” Logan had replied, placing two pills into Charles’ palm. The old man gave him a death stare. “Don’t play dumb. It’s not like you don’t know the drill.”

Mumbling something incoherent before swallowing the pills, Charles had taken slow sips of water between each one, sinking back into the mattress with a weary sigh. “If she’s not your girlfriend, then what is she?”

“A friend.”

“That’s nice. Is that what they’re calling it now?”

He shakes that memory away, forcing his mind back to the call. “Try not to be so kind to him. What if he falls in love with you?” he inquires, a mocking tone weaving through his words. 

And that’s when you drop the bombshell. “You mean like you did?” 

You laugh, but Logan… doesn’t. He can’t do it. He makes sure he’s breathing on command: in and out, in and out, in and out. 

The mention of love unsettles him. He doesn’t feel safe anymore, doesn’t know what game you’re playing. Where’s the rulebook?

Is he—could he be—falling in love with you? Is that what you’re implying? And if so, do you feel the same?

In the long run, you mumble: “It was a joke.” Only then do his lungs fill with fresh air, untainted by the weight of his unease. But he can’t let it pass, the fact you sound disappointed. Defeated.

He promised himself he’d never hurt you. Though he doesn’t intend to, it feels as if he’s just stabbed you in the back, twisting the knife further into your frame—unwillingly.

“Remember the—” he pauses a moment, throwing his head back in frustration, silently cursing himself. “The pills. You’ve been giving them to him, right?”

“Yes, Logan.”

“Please, remember it’s only—”

“Logan,” you try again, cutting through the wave of his spiraling thoughts. He can picture you behind closed lids, looking at him through your lashes, your hand resting gently on his chest. “I have it under control, okay? He’s doing alright. I swear I’m taking good care of him.”

“I don’t doubt that, honey.” Casting a glance at the rearview mirror, he feels an unexpected sense of longing for your presence there, like a ghost haunting his every move, confined to the limits of his brain. “Can’t help but worry. That’s all.”

A soft hum reverberates through the line. He hears the rustle of sheets, the sound of you tossing around in his bed, and his pulse quickens at the thought.

“You said you’re sleepin’ on my bed.”

“Good memory you have.”

“You wearin’ my clothes as well?”

 Thick silence, the kind he relishes.

“Yeah,” you finally reply, shifting the phone from side to side. You take a deep breath, and add: “I forgot to bring mine.”

He hates how you easily find a way to get him riled up despite being miles away. It must be the power of words.

“I don’t believe you.” He knows he shouldn’t, hates himself for doing it, but one of his hands palms the half-hard bulge in his black slacks, suppressing a low groan. “Think you did it on purpose.”

A rush of heat, sharp and urgent, washes over him. Is he really about to do this? Get himself off in the very car he uses for work? Twisted, incredibly sick of him, he thinks.

Still, he craves more. “Tell me what you’re wearing.”

You laugh at his demanding tone, fanning the flames of his desperation. “When did you turn into a horny teenager?”

“Always been, baby,” Logan purrs, undoing the button of his pants, followed by the fly. His eyes flick upwards for just a moment—no cars, no one in sight. He’s presumably alone. It’s all the confirmation he needs to say: “C’mon. Tell your old man what clothes you stole from him.”

He’s never done this before—phone sex. He’s heard about it, sure, but never imagined he’d fall so hard for the idea. The thrill of it sinks into him, electrifying.

What are you doing? Is your lip caught between your teeth? Do your eyes wander down your own body? Maybe your fingers are already skimming over your skin.

“It’s just a random shirt,” you murmur. “Plain, white.”

“What else?”

“There’s nothing else.”

Logan’s breath hitches as his hand moves to his cock, spotting the damp patch on his briefs where the tip has already started to leak. The moment he slides the elastic down past his balls, he fists his shaft in a slow stroke, going from the base to the head. “No panties? And you expect me t’believe this wasn’t planned?”

Your muffled whimper is like molten lava spilling into his ear, bringing him to full hardness. More shuffling follows on your end, driving him wild with the anticipation. “Why do you do this to me if you’re not here?”

“‘Cause I want you touchin’ yourself just like I’m doin’.” He thumbs the head, hips jerking involuntarily at the sensation. He aches to feel your mouth there instead. “Bet that pussy’s been cryin’ out for me, huh? Must’ve got used to me fillin’ her every other night.”

Your breathing grows more uneven, small gasps filtering through the speaker. “I need you here with me. This is—ugh—not enough.”

“What’s not enough, sweetheart?”

There’s a pause as the sound of your phone shifts again, and then he hears it clearly—the wet, needy sound of your fingers working between your legs, filling the silence with the loud squelching of your cunt. “My fingers,” you blurt out, more distant than before, like you’re merging with the bed, dissolving with every touch.

Logan spits roughly into his palm, the slickness of his saliva easing the drag of his calloused hand along his length, good enough to make the movement more satisfying.

He moans aloud, eyes shut tight, your name slipping from his lips, a whispered prayer, as if saying it could somehow summon you to his side. “I spoil you too much,” he rasps, wedging his phone between his ear and shoulder, using every resource available to him, anything to feel something real. “Seems like you’ve forgotten how to make yourself come.”

Your moans follow his, the breathy sounds a clear sign of how close you are, hanging on the edge, your release just a heartbeat away. But it’s not enough, and you need him. He wonders if you can feel his thoughts from miles away, because— “Want your cock so bad, Lo. I m-miss you.”

He has to stop jerking himself to hold off his orgasm, stomping his foot against the pedals. “Fuck, darlin’. You keep sayin’ those things and I swear I’ll be back with you by morning.”

His sole focus now is you—getting you to come. Driven by his growing frenzy, it’s the only coherent thought that claws through the haze in his mind. “Keep talking, please,” you plead, fingers still lost in the heat of your body. “Tell me what you’ll do to me when you see me.”

Logan picks up the rhythm again, his movements faltering as his chest heaves, ragged breaths spilling out while his hand works faster. “Gonna fuck you slow and deep, just how you like it. Face to face, so you can kiss me as much as you want, ‘cause I know my girl loves that, am I right?”

My girl. He’ll regret that one the second the high fades and clarity sets in.

Word after word falls from his lips without thought, uncontrollable, as though he’s surrendered to the storm of desire raging in his being—a storm in which your name is the eye of it all.

You are everywhere, and you take up all the empty spaces he thought were impossible to fill, sinking into the depths of his unconsciousness.

Not a single part of him is left untouched by you, by the power of your presence in his life, consuming him in ways he never imagined.

Your airy mewls ripple through the line, feeding his ravenousness, adding to the tightening knot of pleasure coiling low in his abdomen. His muscles strain, thighs tensing. Each stroke of his hand prolongs this sweet torture. 

“Come for me, princess. You’d make me so h-happy if you came right now.”

And you do, because it’s not just his touch anymore—it’s his voice, and the way he commands you without force. How you’ve become accustomed to him, nodding along to each instruction he mutters.

Beneath your fingers, your swollen clit pulses, and though he can’t see it, he imagines it perfectly, having spent enough time worshiping it.

He knows, even from a distance, what your body must be doing. Your back arching off the bed, thighs quivering and clenching tight around your own hand. Those perfect legs of yours trembling as you reach your so-desired climax.

Loud and unrestrained, you moan, and for a moment, he wants to be with you so badly that he ponders if the theory of traveling across time and space sounds that far-fetched after all.

Logan doesn't need much after that for the thread to snap at long last, his groans dying on his lips as he stares in awe at the spurts of his seed landing wherever his eyes fall: a bit on the top of his pants, on his hand, his briefs. His cock twitches in his grip as he continues stroking himself through the aftershocks, gulping when it becomes too much to handle.

So phone sex is off the list now. Great.

“Miss you, too,” he mumbles once he’s caught his breath, tossing his glasses onto the passenger seat. His forehead feels damp to the touch, and he contemplates when was the last time he came this hard.

The elephant in the room hasn’t been addressed yet. He knows you expect him to say more, something deeper and rawer, but that’s all he can force himself to spit out.

Sometimes, he forgets that you can’t read him all the time. Although you know him better than anyone else, there are certain thoughts and memories locked tightly inside him, things you'd never discover on your own. Secrets he admits he should share with you, but he’s at a loss for how. Words aren’t doable when he needs them the most.

Maybe it's a matter of age—you’re a natural at voicing your feelings.

At some point, you ask: “When did you say you were returning?”

One thing’s clear: he can’t afford to lose you. He’d be an idiot if he let that happen.

“In five days, I think.” Were he with you, he'd hold you in his arms, kissing your lips. God, how he misses kissing you. All of you. “I’ll keep you updated.”

“It’s okay,” you respond, and in his mind, a blank canvas fills with the familiar image of you lying on your side, curling into a ball the way you always do. “I should go to sleep. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Sure.” Thank you for everything. “Get some rest.” Are you still in love with me? “Bye.” I’m coming back. You know how I feel about you, do you?

So much left unsaid, words he lacks the strength to speak. That, along with his come-stained clothes. And, of course, the limousine now perfumed like a flower shop.

Exhaustion clings to him again.

His luck has never been this good.

The next afternoon, one of the couple’s kids falls ill. Must be something he ate, the woman tells Logan, her voice light, though he can hear the shuffle of urgency behind her words.

Her husband packs their bags in the background, the muted thuds of luggage hitting the floor. You know how children are. Their hands are always filthy!

What she doesn’t realize is that Logan, in fact, doesn’t know how children are, because how could he?

He’s holed up in the hotel across the street, his only responsibility being to wait on their call, ready to drive whenever they needed him. Needless to say, his accommodations are nothing like theirs. Not that he minds it—he’s not one for luxury, has never needed it.

Truth be told, he’s no stranger to beds that groan if you shift slightly, clogged toilets that spit back water like they’re alive.

Joy rushes through him when he hears the news. He’s coming back earlier than expected, a thrill building in his chest. Twelve days he’s been away, his greed growing with each second in that desolate hotel room.

Now, the beating of his heart quickens, a faint thrumming as he stares out the window. He debates whether to let you know about his early return or keep it as a surprise. Would it be better if he just showed up?

How would you feel, knowing that, by the time the lights are out, he’ll be yours again?

He knows he should feel sorry for the poor kid, but all he can muster is a look of concern that barely reaches his eyes. Each time they pull into a gas station, he listens to the hurried slap of footsteps as the boy rushes for the bathroom to empty his insides.

He watches in the rearview as the kid’s father shakes his head, clicking his tongue with disapproval. “Do you have kids?” he asks, his voice forced into a casual tone, like he’s trying to break the silence that’s settled between them. 

Logan’s only response is to turn up the radio, some pop song he’s never heard spilling from the speakers. The lyrics are a blur of nonsense to him, but it’s enough to drown out the man’s words and the boy’s misery.

Some things never change.

As the sun dips below the horizon, he’s finally free, no longer at anyone’s beck and call. He contemplates the possibility of getting a speeding ticket, weighing his options. It hardly matters. The pull to see you, to feel you, is stronger than anything else.

Even though he tries to think of another time in his life when he felt such a raw need, no memory comes close.

When he does pull up to his place, he does it quietly. Parking the limo, he doesn’t honk, doesn’t announce himself. Fumbling with the keys ever so lightly so as not to wake you up, fitting them into the lock.

His wrist twists, and the door gives way with a soft creak.

Anxiety ripples through him as he steps inside. The smell of freshly cooked food hits him, but it only tightens the knot in his stomach, reminding him of how long it’s been since he last ate.

Later, he tells himself. After. Once he’s sated his true hunger—the kind of hunger that can only be satisfied by sinking his fingers into something real, fleshy, malleable. 

Hunger—yes, it’s animalistic, feral even. Will he be able to control himself once he’s near you? In moments like this, he feels more animal than human. Creeping, on the verge of crawling, back to you.

His feet take him to his bedroom, knowing the path to it very well. Fingers hovering over the knob, he takes a deep breath.

It’s already late, past midnight, yet energy courses through his veins as though he’s just woken from a long, ethereal dream.

He finds you asleep, your body wrapped snugly in the sheets, clutching a pillow close to your chest. Your cheek is pressed into it, breathing soft and steady, lulling him in. Kneeling on the edge of the bed, he kicks off his shoes, then slips in beside you, mirroring your position. 

A lamp sits on his nightstand, one that isn’t his, and he figures you must have brought it from your apartment. There has to be a symbolism for that.

It’s incredible how his entire world can fit into such a narrow bed.

The smart thing would be to let you sleep, to simply watch you for a moment longer. But he can’t help himself.

His thumb lingers near your face before gently cupping your cheek, and the very first contact with your skin sends a shudder through him, the warmth of your skin grounding him. He trails his fingers down to your chin, holding it with just enough pressure to remind himself that he’s here.

Leaning in, he presses his lips softly against your forehead, your typical perfume wrapping around him like a welcome.

Welcome home, Logan.

For the first time, he feels that someone’s been counting down the minutes until his return. He’d always believed a person like him didn’t deserve this. That he just wasn’t built for it.

Countless years had he spent convincing himself he’d never be the kind of man who could inspire love. His life had already been written long ago—predetermined by some cruel hand in the sky.

Destiny, fate, call it what you want—once the cards are laid out, there’s no escaping them. Or so he used to think.

You had taken that pen into your own hands, rewriting his future. You, of all people, had changed his life. No matter what the future held for the two of you, he’d always be grateful. Grateful that you’d seen the dim spark in him that others had chosen to ignore.

Thoughtlessly, his fingers continue their gentle strokes along your cheek, your hair. You stir beside him, shifting in your sleep. Your eyes flutter open, close again, and then open once more, blinking in confusion.

“Logan?” you croak, voice still groggy and thick with sleep, coming to your senses. Before he can respond, you throw yourself on top of him, smothering his face with kisses. “Why—how—”

“Sweetheart,” he says, attempting to hide his grin, but failing when your kisses shift to his neck, your nose nuzzling against his skin. A laugh slips out, warmth flooding his chest.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming home early!”

Home. Had he heard right? Had you used that word knowingly?

Peering into your eyes, he catches his reflection in your pupils, tiredness etched into his features. “Wanted it to be a surprise.”

“You could’ve told me,” you reply, fingers threading through his greying locks, massaging his scalp. You place a tender kiss on the tip of his nose. “I would’ve waited up for you at least.”

“Well, I’m here now,” he whispers back, gaze drifting to your lips, and you close the space between you, his sigh mingling with yours as one hand cradles the small of your back, fisting the fabric of his shirt. His other hand tilts your head, inviting your tongues to greet each other in an unhurried dance.

You move languidly on top of him, and he notices, breaking the kiss and pulling back. “You’re gonna fall asleep on me, are you?”

The way your lashes flutter in response should be illegal. “I could use a human-size pillow.”

“I should shower first.”

“No.”

“Baby, I smell like gas.”

“So?”

A smirk tugs at his lips at your insistence, and he gently lays you back against the mattress. Drawn to your charm once again, he licks into your mouth, mentally scolding himself when he gets carried away, letting the kiss linger longer than intended.

“I’ll be quick,” he promises, pulling the sheets over your body. Resigned, you simply nod, settling on your side.

Ten minutes later, you’re dozing off, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness when he slips into bed, wrapping himself around you from behind. One arm drapes over your waist, the other cushions your head, and there’s not a patch of skin between you left untouched.

Fatigue begins to delve deeper into his bones the longer he stays curled around you, but before the weight of sleep takes him, and the silence steals his chance, he huffs: “I missed you.” His beard grazes your skin in a soft, unintentional caress.

You pull his wrist to your lips, pressing a short-lived kiss to the inside of it. “Missed you, too.”

How the roles have reversed.

In the quietness of this starless night, you leave him no other choice but to believe you.

3:34 a.m. Still hostage to the lack of light outside. The world remains submerged in the gentle tides of sleep, undulating between dreams, except for him.

Logan wakes up at 3:34 a.m. because he’s rock hard, and being flushed against your back wasn’t helping him with his situation at all. If anything, it only heightened it.

He sits at the edge of the bed, his mind running in circles, debating whether he should jump to his feet and head to the bathroom for another shower—this time, a cold one. Returning to sleep, at least in this moment, is not a viable option.

His gaze drifts to the moonlight spilling through the window, casting its pale glow across the room. Is this your doing? The question lingers, unshakable, in his thoughts. It remains as just that: a question.

When you quietly rest your chin on his shoulder, he stifles a sigh, biting the inside of his cheek. Your voice breaks through the quiet.

“What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?” Wrapping your arms around him from behind, you circle his frame, in an effort to persuade him to sink back into the mattress.

“It’s nothing,” he says, pulse accelerating. Please, don’t look down. “I’ll be back in a second.”

“But what is—”

He doesn’t get to hear the rest of your sentence. You do look down, finding the outline of his hardened cock straining against his briefs, stealing your full attention.

“Wow.”

“Go back to sleep.”

“And leave you like this?” One hand creeps toward his waistband, your breath warm against his ear. “Wouldn’t miss this for anything in the world.”

Your nails trace a path through the coarse hair at his navel, and Logan tenses. His legs feel like jelly as you cup his balls, fondling them gently between your fingers.

Behind him, your low chuckle stirs something primal in him, making his blood thrum hot beneath his skin. He should be the one doing this to you, not the other way around.

“Darlin’, I don’t—” He’s cut off by his own guttural groan when you fist his length, pumping him in rhythm with his uneven breaths. “I don’t need this.”

“Seems like you do,” you whisper, momentarily halting your ministrations to place your palm in front of his face, hoping he takes the hint. You kiss his stubble, pausing just short of his mouth. “I want to take care of you. Always do.”

Your palm hovers before him, inviting. Grabbing your wrist, he licks it, coating it in his spit and guiding you back down to him. Together, your hands glide along his length, and his gaze locks onto yours, the intensity of it making his neck tense.

You beam with delight under his stare. That red organ caged within his ribs—a blood-pumping machine of passion—surges back to life as he sees you.

He had won the battle. He had triumphed over his past; had lived enough lives, endured enough years, to arrive at this moment.

This had to be the purpose of his existence: to share this part of his stay on earth with you.

“You’re so hard,” you say, twisting your wrist at the tip of his cock, reveling in every buck of his hips, each movement a reflection of his exaltation. “Guess you did miss me.”

With a quiet growl, he reaches behind, nudging your thighs apart until they find your mound, cupping you through your underwear. “I’m not the only one who’s been missin’ someone.” He pulls the fabric aside, sliding his fingers through your wet folds. His nostrils flare as he feels how ready you are. “Why am I not surprised?”

Your breath hitches, and you press yourself closer against him, your tits against his back, mouth teasing at his neck. “That’s what happens when you’re gone.” Another kiss on his nape. “You could take me with you next time.”

“Can’t do that,” he answers, teasing your entrance. “No work would get done.”

His movements cease to a stop. Yours do too. Turning his head just enough to glance over his shoulder, he scrutinizes your expression, pride swelling in his chest as he takes in your affected state.

“You’re not goin’ back to sleep, are you?”

There’s the shake of your head. A single word escapes your lips, imbued with pure fervor: “Please.”

He captures your mouth in an ardent kiss, tugging at your shirt (which is, in fact, his) to undress you, his wandering hands roaming beneath it.

As his mouth meets your neck, something cold brushes against his lips, drawing his gaze down to what’s hanging from your neck.

His dog tags. The ones he had given you before leaving for that job, as his way of telling you I’m coming back without having to say it aloud. And you, as always, understood; had even promised to keep them safe, though he hadn’t expected you to actually wear them.

Now, with your shirt discarded, they lay against your bare skin, his name resting in the valley between your breasts.

“You like ‘em?” His fingers grip the chain and give it a gentle tug, drawing you closer so he can breathe over your lips, his breath mingling with yours. “Like knowing you’re mine? You get off on it?”

You nod in agreement. Of course, you do. Though emotionally constipated and not the most expressive, Logan is a lover who knows how to awaken desire—a good lover, indeed. A decent one.

Which is why he agrees to any idea that crosses your mind, like the one you just whispered in his ear.

He may be older than you, but he’s always been more on the traditional side. You, on the other hand, are continually searching for new ways to innovate.

The round globes of your ass jiggle over his face as he spreads you apart, entrenched by how your skin moves above him, your glistening hole clenching around nothing, as if your body itself is calling to him.

With his head propped against the headboard, he watches you take him deeper, your saliva dripping down the wiry hairs of his cock. The slick heat of your tongue traces over his slit, back and forth, driving him to the edge.

When he hears you gag, it stirs something inside him—a deep need to return the favor, to match your devotion.

At the end of the day, he’s a man on a mission, and right now, that mission is you.

Right there, with his nose and mouth buried in you, he wonders why he hadn't thought of this sooner. If he could choose a natural end like any other man, he'd wish for it to be by suffocation—your body his last breath.

Logan inhales deeply, like a man starved, working two of his fingers inside your throbbing center, his tongue flicking relentlessly over your clit, punching moan after moan out of you. Each thrust of his fingers, each stroke of his tongue, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you.

His beard, streaked with gray, leaves a trail of fire wherever your hips meet his face, pushing back against him. Every so often, you pull off his cock just to ramble, panting, about how good he's making you feel.

From where he lies, you’re a sight to behold, nothing short of divine. “Just what I needed, doll. You taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he blurts out, your frantic cries pouring into his ears as he sucks the swollen bud between his lips. “Can’t believe you let me do this to you. You love makin’ your old man happy, don’t you?”

He used to think he'd burn in hell for indulging in the desire to know you like this—raw, ungraceful.

His judgment must be fucked up, because now, all he sees in you is heaven incarnate. You must be the closest thing to it he’ll ever find.

“Shit, I…” you trail off, gasping as he replaces his fingers with his tongue, drinking from your arousal and tasting every bit of you. “I thought about you every day.”

“Bet you did, just like that night I called you. You know how I felt when you told me you were wearing my clothes?” His hand comes down with a firm slap on your right asscheek, drawing a whine from you as your movements falter. “Can smell you all over these sheets. Makes me wonder how many times you made yourself come while I was away.”

You slip the tip of his cock back in your mouth, your hands and lips working in sync. His nose brushes against the plush skin of your thighs before his teeth graze your flesh, biting down just enough to leave a sting. His fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot again and again, and you moan around him, your throat vibrating against his length.

He makes you come like this, knuckles deep inside you while his thumb circles your clit. Overwhelmed by pleasure, you let go of his dick, and it hits Logan’s stomach with a wet pop. His strong arms tug you closer to his face, eyes falling closed as you ride the wave of your orgasm against his mouth, palms pressed flat on his chest.

For a brief moment, he can’t breathe, can’t feel anything but you, your scent, your taste filling his senses.

Later, he rolls you onto your back and climbs on top of you, uncertain of how much time he has spent lapping at your wetness. His hard length glides along your folds, and he lines himself up without pushing in, looking right into your eyes. 

“Remember what I told you that night over the phone?” he asks, his breath coming in quick bursts, and you nod, head lolling back as he pinches your lower lip between his fingers. “Repeat it.”

“Logan—”

“You say it, and I’ll make it happen.”

Perplexity clouds your features. “You said you’d fuck me slow and deep, just h-how I like it. Face to face, because—”. The words escape you, a sob tearing through your throat as he eases the first few inches of himself inside you, your walls instinctively making space to wrap around him.

He’s home.

“Go on. What else did I say?” he teases, relishing in it. He’s guilty as sin. “Or were you too lost in thought touchin’ yourself?”

“F-face to face,” you slur, nails digging into his scarred back, and he keeps plunging his length into your interior to the hilt. Your lips part slightly, craving the kiss that only he can give you. “You said you’d do it face to face so I could kiss you whenever I wanted.”

He hums, low in his throat, as he gives the first thrust of the night, taking great pleasure in your expression: open-mouthed, eyes scrunched, and a slight crease forming between your brows.

Smoothing his thumb over your forehead, he tsks, pausing his movements. “None of that, princess. Look at me, c’mon.”

You obey, forcing your eyes open, and in that instant, he swears he can feel every tremor coursing through you. “Logan,” you coo, your voice aching as you stretch your neck toward his mouth.

The way you say his name—seductively, charged with a fascination that riles him up—manages to ignite a fire only you can kindle. It’s all the invitation he needs.

“I know. Too much, huh?” His tone drips with condescension, teasing in a way that feels almost cruel. He can’t help it, though: it’s in very his nature. “Need to hear you say it. Need you to tell me how much you want this.”

Like everything else in your world, your patience begins to wither, hips instinctively bucking beneath him, seeking even the slightest bit of friction. But he still withholds the kiss you long for, dangling it just out of reach.

“Please,” you beg, voice breaking as you plead. “Fuck me, baby. Missed you so much while you were away. Please, please, please—”

Logan enjoys hearing you beg. He won’t pretend otherwise. There's a satisfaction in knowing he holds this power over you, that he's the only one who can unravel you this way, your body splayed open beneath him.

The thought of others who may have once been in his place, making you fall apart just like this, sets his blood on edge.

Jealousy, sharp and corrosive, crawls up his spine, and it spurs him on, guiding the tempo of his thrusts.

He wonders if he’s ever fucked you this fiercely before, with a passion that pulses from every part of him. You’re given no space for thought, no moment to catch your breath—just his unforgiving pace and the sounds spilling from your lips.

He has a way of breaking you down, turning you into a trembling, whimpering mess beneath him, and you surrender willingly, craving each second of it.

So fuckin’ tight. Can y’hear her? How badly she needs me?

Sex had never felt like this before. He’d grown accustomed to quick, meaningless fucks in poorly lit bars, fleeting encounters that left him questioning if this was all there was. If this wasn’t the best he’d ever know. 

For a while, he’d tried to solve that emptiness, searching in nameless lovers and hollow hearts for the very thing he feared most: love.

And yet, he wanted it, yearned it, guarding his desire like a secret he barely admitted to himself. Until one day, you stumbled into his life, and all the strength he thought he had wasn’t enough to push you away.

He presses deep into the back of your thighs, bringing your chests so close they're nearly brushing. Claiming your mouth in a maddening kiss, all teeth and tongue, leaving no space for softness. As he nibbles at your bottom lip, he feels you tighten around him, your cunt pulling him under, clouding his thoughts.

“Close?” he murmurs, hips snapping against you with an utterly obscene rhythm that drowns out the world, better than any song ever made. “Such a good girl. Gonna come, sweetheart? Let me see how gorgeous you look when you fall apart, making a mess just for me.”

The constant, steady drag of his cock doesn’t seem to get old for you. He’s leaving his mark within you, inside you, carving a space for himself. His tip keeps hitting all the right spots, prompting you to tilt your pelvis to meet him halfway, telling him there, yes, there. More, please.

His hand slides down, rubbing your clit with his fingers. Doesn’t need any extra help when doing so, your arousal providing all the slickness he needs. He feels like a runner on the final stretch, the finish line within reach, so close he can almost touch it, savoring the euphoria and bliss of crossing it.

The way you sing his name never loses its allure, despite all the times he’s heard it spill from your lips. Especially at this moment, with him buried deep inside you, every thrust a promise to make you feel good.

You shamelessly come while he keeps driving into you, vigorous and untamed—like a caged animal unleashed, tasting freedom for the very first time.

Ankles digging into his lower back, a trail of persistent kisses along his beard. You want him inside, that much he can tell.  It’s not like he ever finishes anywhere else, but the reminder doesn’t bother him. It only serves as a reassurance: that you still want this, want him. You haven’t changed your mind.

He sinks his teeth into your neck the instant he feels his orgasm tearing through him, hips stilling and sagging as a string of grunts abandons his being, dampening your skin even more.  He loves to fill you up, it consumes him entirely.

Such an intimate, visceral act, and then he gets to see his seed trickling down your thighs. He realizes that he doesn’t need much to be happy.

You keep kissing him, his neck, his face. It may seem absurd to say that every kiss feels like the first, yet it’s true.

Even after he’s traced all the contours of your mouth and committed every detail of your body to memory, he can’t help but feel that same thrill of excitement he experienced months ago when he dared to push beyond the boundaries he had set for himself.

Staring at each other, naked, all the love in the world seems to fill these four walls. The compassion and tenderness in your gaze remain unchanged. You’re a dream come true.

It can’t end like this. He can’t allow you to drift back into sleep without saying what needs to be said. Something has to happen, something only he can conjure.

“I think…” He hesitates. Starting with I think carries an air of uncertainty. “I don’t—”

“Logan,” you interrupt, your hand finding his. “I know.”

Yes, you do. You always seem to know everything, but that can’t be enough. He can’t lean on your unspoken understanding of his feelings.

“You still deserve to hear it.”

“It’s not necessary.”

“It is.”

More silence. The moon is the solitary spectator of his upcoming declaration. 

“You were right,” he begins, drawing your intertwined hands closer to his face, pressing a soft kiss on the back of yours. His voice drops to a murmur. It’s not just his body that feels completely exposed anymore; something deeper within him stands bare. “I’m in love with you.”

You scrutinize him as if he’s revealing the secret to eternal life. Again, you kiss his cheek, cupping it gently with your palm.

“It won’t get any better than this. There are no more layers to peel away, okay?” He offers explanations you never even asked for in the first place. “This is what I am.” Much to his dismay, you overlook his choice of words: what instead of who.

He glances away, his gaze landing on the dog tags resting against your skin. The same old guilt threatens to engulf him, as it does each time without fail, and that seems to be your cue to lower yourself to his eye level, eyebrows raised.

“I’m not with you because I’m waiting for you to change. I like you just as you are, Logan. And I want all of you, both the good and bad stuff.” A gentle smile breaks across your face as you stretch your arm to retrieve his glasses from the nightstand. Placing them on your nose, your eyes twinkle with contentment. “Do they look good on me?”

“You don’t need them yet.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t pull them off.”

“Come here,” he mutters, sighing when you nuzzle his chest, cradling your head between his hands. He ponders what to say, what to do next, but no clear idea sounds promising.

And so it gives you the chance to speak up: “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

I hope I don’t, he thinks to himself as he brushes your hair away from your face, fingers caressing your temples. I hope I never do.

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! <3

[ovaryacted]

GUARD DOG

─ Logan Howlett/Wolverine x fem! reader || WC: 5.0k

SYNOPSIS: On another one of your joint club outings with Wade, your boyfriend Logan stands by to make sure you enjoy your night. Once you both arrive at your apartment, he tends to your needs and helps you relax.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. SMUT. Established Relationship. Age gap implied [Logan is his canon age, Reader is mid to late 20's]. Alcohol consumption. Kissing. Unprotected P in V. Shower sex. Fingering (f receiving). Manhandling. Biting/Marking Kink. Size Kink if you squint. Mutual fantasies of public sex. Worst!/Variant! Logan Howlett. Grumpy! Logan in public, soft! Logan in private. Wade is the third wheel who drinks for fun but can't get drunk (obvi). Descriptions of the reader's clothing (mini skirt & skimpy top). Reader is shorter than Logan in heels. Logan can pick the reader up.

A/N: Lord this was a pain in the ass to write for absolutely no reason, but I am glad it's done. Big shoutouts and thank yous to @ozarkthedog and @pedgito for reading this over and encouraging me. And also thank you to @zloshy and @studioghibelli for holding my hand and helping me out with the brainstorming process. As always, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Enjoy! <3

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

To this day, Logan doesn’t know why he still puts up with Wade’s shit or agrees to his antics. But he doesn’t mind doing it so long as it keeps his eccentric friend off his back and keeps you happy.

The club he was brought to was loud, the air thick with the pungent stench of weed, and he swears he could distinctly sniff out cocaine in the bathrooms, irritating his nose. Bright strobe lights strained his vision, and the obnoxious pop music vibrating through the walls was anything but pleasing to his sensitive ears. Thankfully, the bar had Jack Daniels on the shelf, enough to do the job and keep himself busy.

He raises his arm to lean against the bar, sipping away at his fourth cup of whiskey, knowing that the buzz he feels will go away as quickly as it hits him. Adept eyes scanned the club, landing on your figure as you danced to the current song.

Logan admired the sway of your hips, the mini skirt you wore riding up your thighs with every pop and swivel. The low-cut top you paired it with shifted when your arms rose to the beat change, the open back showing more than enough skin to leave to the imagination. He could taste the light sheen of sweat from your neck at a distance, amplifying your natural pheromones that elevated the perfume you sprayed on earlier.

He did what he did best. He watched. Even with his dominating presence, he was hyper-aware of the other men who stood by prowling like hawks, stalking their prey and waiting for the best moment to attack. Wade was enough to keep you safe during your joint club outings, but now that he was with you, Logan ensured you made it home every night.

You were smart and vigilant, always were before you met him. But Logan was familiar with the instinctive behavior of men, especially men like him. Ill-tempered. Selfish. Prone to arguments and have an affinity to attract trouble. He knows what they were all thinking, creating mental checklists of what tricks they’d use to guarantee you went home with them instead. Countless fantasies of their hands feeling you up, touching you in ways that Logan was allowed to, in a way only he could.

His heart thumped in his ribs at the thought. The innate possession he felt towards you flared as he impatiently wiped his hand over the dark denim of his jeans, ignoring the growing itch to claw the next fucker that thought about coming within six feet of you.

You could hold your own; you’ve told him more than enough times that he didn’t need to stand by and monitor your every move. Yet he does it without hesitation, refusing to give anyone else a chance to breathe you in or get close enough to touch what was his. 

Wade waltzes to the bar and orders another martini, glancing at Logan and contorting his neck to peek at you dancing with a blissful smile.

“Having fun, Wolvie?” he asks, grin widening as his lips envelop the thin straw in his drink, slurping it up like a refreshing cup of water. 

“You know the answer to that,” Logan mutters, finishing the rest of his amber liquid in one gulp before tapping the cup on the bar countertop and asking for a refill. The bartender flashes him a look of concern, receiving a flick of Wade’s hand and topping off the glass.

“You’re five drinks in. Quit being so fucking grumpy,” Wade sneers, detecting someone walking in their direction. “Now flip that frown upside down, Logie bear. Our girl is coming over, and I don’t need you getting your panties in a twist because you’re moody.”

Logan rolled his eyes before spotting you striding to him, standing in front of the burly man with a hazy smile. He noticed the multitude of heads that turned to follow your direction, tracking you with every step you took toward the deviant pair. A low whistle seized his attention, Logan’s head rapidly spun at the sound to find its source and nip it in the bud. The growl settling in the back of his throat simmered down once your soft hand touched his chest, grounding him to you.

“Hey, old man.” Even in heels, you still couldn’t reach him face-to-face, smirking when his thick arm wrapped around your waist to bring you closer. “Enjoyed the show?”

“The music in here fucking sucks, but I can’t complain too much,” Logan’s lips hovered over the shell of your ear, lowering his voice as he spoke. “You were my favorite part.”

“Oh, you weren’t looking at the girl in the cocktail dress? I don’t know, her dress was real short.” The corner of his mouth curled up, challenging your statement that feigned any truth. Giggling, you clutched his bicep, the alcohol loosening your tongue to speak more bluntly. You pivoted to spot Wade, who watched you both from afar in animated shock.

“Problem?”

“Sorry, honey. I just can’t stand seeing the two of you be all touchy-feely in front of me. It’s very disturbing.” Wade finished his martini, ordering a margarita and explicitly asking for a tiny umbrella. “I hate that you took my spot. Creeping in like a slut into a happy home and snatching my man away.”

Ever since Wade had introduced you to Logan almost a year ago, it had been an instant connection he got front-row seats to witness. He was excited when he finally compelled Logan to go to the club you both frequented, recalling how he raked his eyes over you when you weren’t looking. It was only a matter of time before you left the club with Logan one night, and Wade met him at the front door the following day like a disappointed parent acknowledging his walk of shame. 

All jokes aside, considering the pair he just unleashed into the world, he would believe himself to be the city’s most qualified and successful cupid.

“Can’t call me a homewrecker if there was no home to wreck, sweetie,” you shrugged, hearing Logan’s dry chuckle.

“Sure, whatever. But you should be thanking me, you know? You get to have those big, meaty hands on you all the time. Not to mention you get to fuck him and actually see his d-”

“Wilson.” Logan’s voice cut him off, causing Wade to murmur under his breath. You fronted the brunette, messing with the collar of his leather jacket.

“Don’t be mean to him. He’s right. I do have the happy privilege of fucking you all the time.” Your glossy lips hypnotized Logan, his hand kneading your rear as he caught your breathless laugh again. He’ll never fully admit it, but he’s always loved your lack of filter when you had a little bit to drink. You were funny and engaging without needing the extra boost, but something about you being openly vulgar made his blood flow south.

“That you do.” His ego blazes inside him, leaning forward to kiss you in the club for the first time that night.

You happily accepted it with a pleased hum, tasting the Jack he’d been drinking and exchanging the flavor of vodka still on your tongue. Your fingers clutched at his jacket, body pulsing with need as the alcohol in your system beelined straight to your clit. Audible gagging noises pushed you to draw away from Logan, your drunken sight landing on the culprit.

“Oh, am I interrupting you guys? I told you to give me a PDA warning next time before you start getting freaky, otherwise I’m joining,” Wade taunted, getting a scoff from you and an irritated grunt from his friend.

“How about we share another drink? Will you forgive me then, Wadey?” You flapped your lashes at him, his wrinkly skin creasing to mimic your gleeful appearance.

“Fine, but only because you know how to sweet talk me. Tequila?” Your optimistic nod motivated him to order another round of shots for the two of you to down. You felt a gentle squeeze on your arm, meeting Logan’s gaze and silent questioning. Can you handle drinking more?

“Just a few more, and we’ll go, okay?” You stroked his chin, kissing the corner of his jaw in reassurance. He asked to test your senses, only intervening to stop if you were too far gone to speak to him. Unlike him, he wants you to keep your liver intact.

“Alright. But the second he starts offering you shit to snort, we’re leaving.”

“I would do no such thing!” Wade dramatically reacts, offering two tequila shots while holding some of his own. “Besides, I don’t need our precious darling over here fucking up her pretty nose. She needs that thing to smell your bullshit from a mile away.”

With another laugh, you swallowed the shot of clear liquid, inhaling a hiss and consuming the next, sucking on the lime to reset your tastebuds. Your body warmed with a buzz from the drink, an electric shock coursing through your veins as it roused you. 

“C’mon, sugarplum, you owe me a dance.” You didn’t have time to waste as Wade dragged you to the dance floor, throwing Logan a flirty wave and joining your mutual friend. The Wolverine returned to his position, manning his post and sipping on the remaining liquid in his glass. He kept tallies on the wandering eyes that gravitate to you, fighting the urge to rip out every single one.

He’ll keep the peace for your sake. You were already his, you’ve been his ever since you took him home and made him stay the night. What more did he have to prove?

It was nearing two in the morning when you finally decided to call it a night. By now, the heels on your feet started slipping, and your footing grew unsteady when you attempted to walk to the bathroom. You held your bearings long enough for Logan to call a cab home after buying some greasy food for you to eat, shooing Wade once he said he was stopping by Vanessa’s.

Logan’s touch was constant the entire way home, skimming your thigh and lower back in the cab, responding to every one of your little mumbles to keep you awake until you arrived at your apartment. Getting you out of the backseat was another hassle he was familiar with, aiding you to stand up straight without accidentally exposing yourself. The best solution he came up with was carrying you inside, wrapping your arms and legs around him as he held you steady and trekked inside the apartment complex.

He didn’t mind the faint squeezes of your arms or the clenches of your thighs around his waist. You were calm, safe, and happy, mindlessly humming in the crook of his neck as he eased his way through the front door. Strong arms entrapped you as the familiar walls of your bedroom filled your vision, Logan placing you on the edge of your bed with a huff of breath.

“I’m gonna get you a cup of water. Alright?” Logan’s hazel eyes met yours, taking in your feeble nod.

“Okay,” voice light and airy, you patiently waited for Logan to return as promised. Within a minute, he had a tall glass of cold water in his hand, a few ice cubes floating at the top.

“Open up. Need you to drink some of this for me.” Heeding his command, you sipped the refreshing beverage, soothing your parched throat. You got halfway down the glass before he drew the cup away, placing it on the bedside table for later.

“Let’s get these heels off now,” Logan suggested next, descending to his knees and bending his leg to raise your foot on his thigh, messing with the straps tied to your ankles.

“Yes, please. They’re fucking killing me.”

He chuckled as you wiggled your foot at him, allowing his thick fingers to unclasp the buckle that held your heels together. Peeling one of the shoes off and dropping it to the floor, he loosened the other, the heel falling to the ground with an audible thud.

Strong hands held your right foot by the ankle and gently twisted it, stretching the tendon after a long night out and doing the same to the left. You whizzed contently at the touch, the devoted rubs of his thumbs and forefingers massaging your feet after hours of dancing never failed to make you feel better. Before you started dating him, you underestimated Logan’s capacity to be affectionate, but he eventually got the hang of things once your relationship grew more steady. 

Sure, he had been alive a long time, you got that warning from Wade prior to meeting Logan. But once you cracked through that tough exterior, you developed a soft spot for the man buried under all that trauma.

“Always so nice to me yet grumpy with everyone else,” you said, running a hand through his hair as he stayed on his knees.

“You’re saying you don’t like special treatment?” he teased, the look in his eye heating your belly. He caressed your shin, drawing circles over your skin as you watched him.

“Never said that. Like it too much sometimes,” he stood up, kissing the top of your head and walking to the bathroom to wash his hands.

“Let’s take those clothes off and get you in something less skimpy.”

“Already? You didn’t tell me anything about my skimpy outfit. Thought you liked it…” you feigned a pout, and Logan raised a curious eyebrow.

“You look good, you always do. I told you that before we left.” He loomed over you, a shiver rushing down your spine when his musk surrounded you. His hands were at either side of your hips, palms resting on the mattress as he observed you.

“I like it when you get all dolled up for me.” One of his knuckles moved to graze your bare forearm, the hair on your skin rising from the goosebumps that followed. “Hate that everyone else gets to look, though.”

“You did good tonight. Didn’t claw anybody in the ribs.” You were only half joking, but you knew it wasn’t such a farfetched idea for him to do just that. All it took was one guy to come too close, and Logan’s knuckles were splitting to unsheath the blades embedded between them.

“Trust me, I was thinking it.”

“I know you were. Still happy you didn’t, so thank you for that.” You held his cheek and tenderly kissed him. “Now take my clothes off.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Logan tugged your mini skirt down your legs, tossing it to the floor. Your top was next, lifting your arms so he could pull it up from your torso, leaving your top half bare. He leaned back to take you in, raking his eyes over your uncovered figure. You were only clad in the lace black thong he noticed earlier when you were getting dressed, the thin piece of fabric doing nothing to conceal what he knew lay underneath.

“You’re staring again.” Your voice brought him to reality, a dry hum being his response.

“You don’t usually complain when I do,” he noted, growing more cocky at the uptick of the subdued tension between you.

“Because I like it when you look at me, smartass.” You held him by the fabric of the white tee hiding under his jacket, hands roaming over the expanse of his chest and stomach, messing with the metal of his belt buckle.

“Seems like you want something…” Logan hungrily watched as your legs spread wider to accommodate for his thicker ones between them, lingering to pounce on you.

“Want you to fuck me.” A rich groan tumbled out of Logan when you yanked him down for a kiss, chasing his tongue with your own and biting his bottom lip. His large hands skate over your thighs, textured fingers pinching your hip to keep you in place. Pulling his head away, he exhaled out of his nose, lightly grazing the tip of it against yours.

“Not until we shower. You smell like Wade and tequila.” He walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower, messing with the knobs to get the searing temperature you liked and coming to capture your dumbfounded expression.

“Are you fucking serious?” You shouldn’t be surprised. Though you think he was just finding more ways to get you to sober up.

“Very. I don’t need you smelling like him in bed. I want you to smell like you.”

Rising to your feet, you entered the bathroom and bent down to peel your thong off. Holding the last piece of clothing by the tip of your finger, you flung it to Logan, swaying your hips with an added flare as you stepped under the showerhead. The steaming water hit your aching body, comforting your sore legs from standing on an arch for so long. 

You heard shuffling from the other side of the glass barrier, enjoying the feel of the scalding spray as burly arms encircled your midriff, holding you loosely by the waist. Turning to face Logan, he eyed you with a softness reserved only when you were alone, your love worming its way into his cold heart and chipping away at the frozen bits and pieces over time.

“I’m surprised you haven’t melted yet from how hot this water is,” Logan jested, pressing yourself closer and gliding your fingers over his torso.

“You’ll get used to it,” you brushed his comment off, his rough fingertips coasting down your back, much softer than how he handled you in the club. “You’re the one that likes showering with me anyway.”

“Course I do, but I’ll never know how you tolerate this. You sure you aren’t the mutant here?” You lightly slapped his sternum, petting his skin with a shake of your head.

Logan maintained the scorching temperature of the shower stream as he held your chin with his forefinger and thumb, bending forward to kiss you, slow and passionate as it always was. You reached for his broad shoulders, opening your mouth to welcome his tongue, the muscle curling around yours with ease.

Maneuvering to pin you to the tiled wall, your hands ran up to the nape of his neck, driving your fingers through his wet hair as you sought more of his touch. Logan parted from you, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw and neck, biting at the skin. Your breathing grew more sporadic, desire surging through you and flourishing between your thighs.

“Logan, please,” you were already begging for more, and he hadn’t done anything prevalent yet. Even with the alcohol slowly ebbing away, your arousal intensified, and a desperate craving for his attention overwhelmed you.

“What do you need? Tell me, sweetheart,” he commanded, his tongue rolling down to your clavicle, sucking a mark into the side of your neck for you to uncover in the morning.

“Need you to touch me.” Unabashedly, you took one of his hands by the wrist, spreading your thighs to position it where you needed him most. His fingers quickly found your pussy, drenched and crying out for his touch. The tips of his pointer and middle fingers drifted up to your sensitive nub, twitching under the initial rubs he delivered.

“Yeah? Need me to make you feel good, sugar?” Logan’s ego continued to ascend as he observed the expressions on your face, your eyebrows furrowing when his digits plunged into your aching hole.

“Been like this for a while, hm?” The smooth timbre of his voice spurred you on, directing his free hand to hold the bottom of your thigh, raising it to his hip and keeping it in place.

“Since you kissed me in the club.” Your confession fell over his lips, nails digging into his shoulder blades, leaving crescent indents in their wake. “Wanted you to fuck me in the bathroom.”

A deep moan rumbled in Logan’s chest at your words, crooking his fingers into that spot tucked at the roof of your entrance. You whined loudly at the touch, tossing your head back against the tile behind you and clenching hard around his thick digits.

“Next time. All you gotta do is bring me there, and I’ll fuck you over the sink.”

You couldn’t help but envision what it would be like to follow through on Logan’s proposal. How he’d pursue the imprint of your natural scent, mixing in with the aroma of your perfume that emanated off of you in waves. His lips would make a path over your shoulder and neck, leaving teeth marks for the club members to see after he was done with you. His fingers would wrap around your throat as he fucked you against the counter of the bathroom sink, forcing you to look at your reflection as you took him from behind.

Mascara streaked down your cheeks in dark smudges, your lip gloss fading and leaving a ring on the base of his cock from when you sucked him off, his cum dribbling down your thighs while he grabs your torn underwear and stuffs them into his pocket. And once you’ve both had your fun, you’d take his hand and stroll out of the bathroom with a smile, proudly flaunting Logan’s claim for everyone to acknowledge who you belonged to.

He was focused on the dives of his fingers inside your cunt, concentrated pulses to your g-spot and sneakily adding his thumb to the mix to press into your clit. Your half-lidded eyes glanced at him, the tell-tale signs of your upcoming orgasm creeping up and building in your gut. Logan could sense it too, the increase in your heart rate and the pulsing of your walls signaled that you were getting close, desperately seeking that release he could give you.

“I know you’re close.” He picked up the pace of his fingers, punctuating his thrusts to work in a third digit to stretch you out properly, the circles on your bundle of nerves becoming relentless. “Come for me, darlin’. C’mon, let me feel it.”

Trained like a dog to obey his command, your climax hit you with force, the strained rope of tension snapping and shooting relief up your spine. Gripping at the nape of his neck, the moan you emitted resounded through the bathroom as your thighs quivered from Logan’s ministrations. The slick walls of your pussy convulsed around him, giving you a few more pumps with his fingers before he took them out, watching in a daze as he licked them to taste your slick with a satisfied grumble.

“Always taste so damn sweet,” Logan remarked, letting you taste yourself on his tongue with another kiss. The hard length of his cock twitched over your lower belly, the ache of being empty overwhelming your senses.

“You can take a little more right, princess?” It was a genuine question, analyzing your energy levels after a long night out. But you craved to feel Logan the best way you knew how, nodding your head at the thought of feeling him deep inside where he belonged.

“Want you, please,” you implored, large hands grabbing the underside of your thighs to lift you from the ground, Logan’s strong hold keeping you upright on the wall. The tip of his cock bumped against your opening, your arms wrapping around his neck as he positioned himself.

“Hold on to me.” You did as he said, mewling in pleasure as he sank into your waiting cunt.

You welcomed him without resistance, his legs and forearms flexing to hold you up as he drove his hips forward until he was down to the hilt. A whimper wormed its way out of your mouth once Logan was tucked snug inside you, the tip of him hitting depths only he could reach. Your eyes fluttered closed at the feel of him, legs wound tighter as you adjusted to him.

“That’s it. Exactly where I’m supposed to be,” Logan confirmed with a grin, pressing his forehead to yours and breathing you in. He concentrated on the way your wet heat enveloped him so well, pussy molded to take him like that was your purpose.

Leaning more into your embrace, he began to move, shifting his hips to dive into you just the way you liked. Deep and even thrusts sent you reeling into ecstasy, your toes coiling as he persisted in his consistent pistoning.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cried out at his movements, the upright position Logan had you in propelled the tip of his cock to hit the roof of your entrance with rehearsed accuracy. Your clit came in contact with the hair at the base of his length, the delicious friction adding to the amplified sensations.

“Feel so good. Fucking warm and wet. Shit.” He rambled against your throat, both of his big hands cupping your ass and keeping you secure as he fucked up into you.

Logan used his strength to bounce you on top of him in time with his jabs, heavy balls smacking into you as he picked up the pace and chased his release. You tightened again, nails biting into the taut skin of his shoulders and raking down, drawing a noisy groan out of the man from the pain. His skin reddened with the streaks you left behind, mending together as his regenerative powers healed him in seconds, removing any evidence of your marks.

“Logan, need it, need you. Please.” He understood what you were asking for, the pounding of his hips getting sloppier on your instruction. “Want you to fill me up…”

“Cum again for me and I will. Fill your pussy up the way you need.”

He wasn’t asking. Your deft fingers went up to his hair and gave him a harsh yank, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip, meshing your mouth with his. Logan panted a breath and followed with a hiss at the slight ache, the urge to fill you up awakening the most primal parts of him.

Your climax washed over you abruptly, mouth positioned in a silent scream as you unravel underneath Logan. He whispered words of praise in your ear, prolonging your orgasm for as long as he could. Your walls flexed and spasmed around him, soft cries morphing into helpless whimpers with every fierce buck of his wide hips. Molten pleasure surged down his back, and his hands sought purchase on your body, squeezing hard enough to bruise. 

“Fuck,” Logan rasped into your skin, stifling his growl with a sharp bite to your neck. The blunt ends of his teeth dug into you, hard enough to tear at your flesh that bloomed into bright red and will fade to purple.

With a few more lunges, he burrowed himself deep inside, painting your walls with his spend and claiming you like he always has. Your legs tensed around his abdomen, making sure to keep him safely tucked and not let a single drop go to waste. You slumped against him, head lolling forward to rest on his shoulder as he littered soft kisses over the marks he left behind in a muted apology. 

“Better now?” he asked, carefully bringing you to stand on the ground, keeping his hold on your hips in case your wobbly legs gave out.

“Mhm. Much better.” You nodded, offering him a kiss and enjoying the aftermath of your respective highs. The carnal appetite you felt earlier dimmed down to manageable levels now that you got what you wanted.

“Good,” Logan reciprocated your delicate kisses, doing what he could to calm and prep you for bed. He knows you could theoretically go for another round, but your exhaustion was palpable. He’d have to make up for it in the morning.

He took your loofah and body wash, pouring the liquid over the net fabric and scrubbing at your figure. He washed you meticulously, rinsing off the suds, and you returned the favor by cleansing him too. Your scents interlaced together as you washed each other, a smile sneaking up on Logan’s face at the realization.

After the shower, Logan did the honors of drying you off, rubbing you down with lotion, and grabbing a baggy dark T-shirt to dress you in. You brushed your teeth as he searched for his sweatpants, alternating between using the sink until you were both ready to end your night.

You eased into the mattress first, tugging the duvet to the side for Logan to follow you and lay on his back. Instinctively, you cuddled into his side once he made room for you, throwing an arm across his chest and lifting your leg to bend comfortably over his thigh.

“You’re gonna make me breakfast, right?” you questioned sleepily over his shoulder, familiar with the post-coitus routine he established in your relationship. In a few hours, you’ll find him making pancakes in the kitchen, or he’ll be under the sheets between your legs again. Either way, it’ll be a good start to your day so long as he’s the first thing you see when the sun beams through the bedroom window.

“I’ll think about it.” Jabbing at his ribs in mock retaliation, you closed your eyes and listened to the distant sounds of the city filling the room, soothing you to sleep.

“Love you, baby. “ You’ll doze off before you hear his reply, nuzzling into his body and chasing the stability and comfort of your personal weighted blanket and heater.

He waited until your breathing evened out and your heart rate leveled, beating on par with his. Giving you a side glance, you were fast asleep, embracing Logan like a teddy bear. Pressing one final kiss to your forehead, he watched you sleep for a while longer, stroking your backbone and holding you close.

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

Dividers by @saradika-graphics.

[atrwriting]

games and other fun — rafe cameron x reader

HAPPY NYE FUCKERS HERES A TOXIC MAN THAT SHOULD DEFINITELY BE LEFT IN 2024 BUT NOT ON THIS BLOG HAHA

this is the hottest rafe scene and if you disagree i think ur silly

as always, warnings: smut, daddy kink, choking, slapping, dom!rafe, alcohol consumption, p in v sex, unprotected sex (please for the love of god wrap it), talk of drugs

anyways… here’s games and other fun:

…

the summer you got hot was coincidentally the same summer you moved to the outerbanks.

the climate was hotter than back hot, but… so were the men.

you and your friends had moved for the new adventure, and thankfully you had found a job in your field pretty quickly. while your friends looked for jobs in their field, they acquired jobs at some of the restaurants, bars, and catering gigs in town.

that was how your best friend met topper.

when she first told you the story, the blush on her cheeks had never been brighter. him and his buddies had been out that night — at the bar she worked at. almost immediately, topper started flirting with her. she claims she played it cool, but from her giggling you can tell that she was excited to talk to him as he was to talk to her. you were so, so happy for her.

…until she mentioned how he had a friend.

“absolutely not,” you stated, shaking your head,

“why not?!” she demanded. “the friend said you were cute!”

you raised an eyebrow at her. “you showed him my picture?”

she nodded. “he was cute! i swear!”

you sighed. “what’s his name?”

“kelce.” a mischievous smile began to play at her lips. “him and topper want to meet us at a party their other friend is throwing this weekend.”

“did you meet that friend?” you asked. “do you think he’d be cool with us coming?”

she dismissed you with a playful wave of her hand. “rafe’s a kook. they wouldn’t be kooks if they didn’t show off their wealth to the whole island.”

you laughed. “okay, fine — i’ll go, but who the fuck names their kid rafe?”

only the richest man on the entire fucking island did, apparently.

you were excited to meet kelce, but you couldn’t help but be curious as to who exactly rafe cameron was. your friend didn’t meet him, neither of you looked him up, but then again — there was a double date to prepare for.

your best friend had gotten ready together after the work day. bikins under levi cutoff shorts, crop tops, and sandals were sported, but the main event was how somehow you both mastered the beachy blowout and natural makeup look in this humidity. once you were done, you both caught an uber and headed straight for the cameron residence.

it was fucking massive.

there was no other word.

and, honestly… it was like something out of project x.

strobe lights, music blasting, and loud laughter and screams. your best friend was more of the partier, so she didn’t look too phased — but you? you were fucking bright-eyed. you hadn’t experienced anything like this before, and even if the date didn’t work out… at least there would be other things to occupy you.

once the uber had parked in front, you spotted a man waiting on the front stoop with his phone in his hands. your friend typed a quick text, hit sent, and through the window you watch the man on the front stoop smile.

place your bets now, you thought. that’s definitely topper.

and that he was.

when you both had met him on the front stoop, he engulfed your friend in a cute hug. afterwards, he extended a smile and his hand to you, and you shook his hand appreciatively.

a man that knew boundaries and manners… fuck yes, bestie.

he led you both inside and you had to stop your jaw from dropping. the party looked crazy from the outside, but nothing could compare to the absolute mayhem that was occurring inside. pong, lines being cut on a few tables, people jumping into the pool from the roof… you name it.

“this is awesome,” you spoke absentmindedly to no one in particular.

“i know,” topped laughed. “kelce’s around here somewhere... drinks?”

he led you both to the kitchen. if you were being honest, you knew that topper and your friend would hit it off pretty quickly and you didn’t want to cock-block them. you were hoping that kelce would find his way to you so you both could have your own fun, and leave your friends to their own devices.

…that was until topper started trying to call kelce over. topper, a bit drunk at this point, didn’t really get the memo from his friend that was turned around, basically back into the corner… that kelce did not want to be disturbed. in fact, when kelce finally got the message, he ripped away from whatever had caught his attention, and turned towards topper’s voice angrily. when he turned away… there was a petite woman pushed into the corner. she seemed very pissed off that kelce had broken their kiss.

who could blame her? he was hot.

no one could blame you for being a little upset, but you wouldn’t tell anyone that.

topper was at a loss for words. you almost felt bad.

letting the liquor provide comic relief, you spoke, “she’s hot. can’t blame him.”

topper laughed and then stuttered, trying to find the words to fight the embarrassment of the situation. even drunk, his manners were impeccable. his and your friend’s eyes revealed a mixture of guilty and sympathy, and you couldn’t deal with how uncomfortable it made you feel. your first instinct was to pretend it didn’t bother you… and if other people ignored your pain, you could too. it gnawed at you in the back of your throat — a rock lodged in your esophagus. your voice was tight, your cheeks were hot, and frustrated and embarrassed tears were pickling at your eyes.

“guys, don’t worry about it,” you laughed, trying to brush it off. “top, where’s the bathroom?”

maybe you couldn’t save yourself from embarrassment, but you could save them from secondhand embarrassment. once he directed you, you gave them both a smile and set off.

if you were being honest… it did hurt that had happened. it was fucking embarrassing. nothing horrible, but combined with having drank in a while, and you were already tipsy? you were feeling emotional, and that wasn’t a good luck. you needed a few minutes in the bathroom to cool off.

you texted your friend that you were going to find the pool after and that she shouldn’t wait up for you — you wanted her to have fun with topper.

you were barely in the bathroom for a few minutes when you heard banging on the door.

“hurry up!” a gruff voice from the other side of the door called.

you shut the water off and brushed away the loose tear. your eyes were red, and your face was a bit puffy, but you figured you’d be fine. you’d probably never see the guy on the other side of the door anyway.

as you opened the door, he went to bang on it again. with his weight forward, he accidentally stumbled into the bathroom while you were still in it.

“sorry, dude, uh —“ he rasped, standing before you and staring awkwardly down at you.

“you’re good…” you spoke, before trying to brush past him.

he caught your upper arm.

“woah, dude,” you laughed hesitantly, trying to step away from him. “i’m leaving, don’t worry.”

“sorry —“ he let go of your arm, still peering down at you. “you’re crying.”

“what? no,” you faked a laugh. “heat got to me s’all. needed some air.”

he eyed you. “never seen you before. not from around here?”

“no,” you shook your head. “my friend and i were invited.”

“by who?” he asked, raising a brow.

you took a step back, not particularly enjoying the third degree in a small space. “this guy she likes… topper.”

his eyes widened, almost in realization. “yeah, yeah… he told me about that. said there was another girl… for kelce.”

you laughed, but with a slight scoff in your voice. “he’s a bit… preoccupied at the moment. with someone else. i was going to go play pong after i… saw.”

“knew he had a pretty girl coming, and did that? guy’s a dick.”

you laughed, and shook your head — brushing off his comment. “‘m sure he’s fine. i don’t know who his friends are — not really in the mood to talk shit about someone i don’t know.”

“sweetheart, he’s one of my best friends — guy’s a dick.”

a smile played at your lips as you raised an eyebrow at the man. “and who are you?”

“the owner of this house,” he replied. “i’m rafe.”

you smiled, and introduced yourself as well. “i’ll, um — leave you to it, then. see you around.”

you turned to leave, when you heard him say your name. while peering down at you, he spoke, “nah… let’s mess with him.”

you shouldn’t have been excited… but you couldn’t deny that you were.

rafe led you back into the kitchen and you smiled at your friend. topper turned to look at you, and his eyes immediately perked up when he saw rafe walking directly behind you.

you greeted them both, but barely before rafe had picked you up by the hips and placed you on the counter next to your friend. you bit back a squeal at the motion, but rafe had leaned against your side as he cracked a beer.

topper turned to you. “i don’t know how you found him, or how you got him out of the woodwork… but the man barely comes to his own parties. nice job.”

you laughed, and let topper and your friend continue their fun.

“so…” you began, turning to rafe. “if you don’t come to your own parties, how do you have fun at things like this?”

a smirk played at the corner of his lips. “they’ve been kind of boring for me, lately, i don’t know… i’m usually in the corner somewhere, smoking.”

sarcastically, with a grin, you asked, “are you telling me i can’t convince you to be my pong partner?”

he laughed, shaking his head. “you could convince me to do a shot with you.”

mischief danced in your eyes. rafe was quick to notice, and the look in his eyes matched yours.

he immediately went for glasses and liquor.

“and you got him to lay off the snow?” asked topper, mouth wide. he looked back to your best friend, grinning. “you’re both coming to the next one.”

rafe poured four shots and handed them off to topper and your best friend. they smiled and laughed to themselves before linking arms, and taking their shots.

“i like to take mine a different way,” rafe rasped, eyes peering down at your lips. “especially since my boy kelce has been staring us down since i put you on this counter.”

a smirk was beginning to form on your lips. in a sultry voice, you asked, “are you suggesting we give your friend a show, rafe?”

you stared into his piercing eyes before he spoke. his lips were parted, and he almost looked hungry. the heat was getting to the both of you making a shiny sheen of sweat glow because of the strobe lights. his eyes were focused on you, and really on you. it threw you off how rafe could have so many things going on around him, barely knowing you — and you were the apple of his eye. the next words rolled off his tongue like sugar, “that’s exactly what i’m suggesting, sweetheart.”

your teeth sank into your bottom lip as a blush rose across your cheeks. with a boldness you were a stranger to, you lifted your shirt above your head to reveal your string black bikini that barely hid your chest.

you figured rafe was lying about kelce — but that was until you saw him and the girl separate, and were now closer to where you and rafe stood. kelce had thrown a few glances your way every now and then, but now? now he was blatantly ignoring the girl next to him as he stared at your rack and rafe.

you threw back your shot, bending your chest towards rafe. you looked back to him with a smile on your face, and plucked his shot from his hands. holding your beasts together and placing the glass in your cleavage, you threw him a wink. rafe’s gaze darkened — and you knew you were in for it.

rafe rested a hand on your waist before he dipped his head lower. his lips wrapped around the circumference of the glass, and threw his head back with ease. your eyes drifted downwards to his broad shoulders, the thickness of his neck, and the muscles in his arms….

oh… you were in for it, alright.

before you knew it, rafe placed his glass down and connected his lips with yours. a whine of surprise rose and died in your throat after rafe placed both of his large hands on the warm skin of your waist. you held rafe’s strong jaw in both of your hands as you kissed him back, letting your tongue dance at his bottom lip.

“you’ve been too sweet to me tonight,” you whispered against his lips. “when are you going to let me be sweet to you?”

“fuck…” he rasped, stealing another kiss. “as soon as i know kelce knows what he missed out on.”

you laughed. “he’s been staring, rafe, come on…”

rafe had wrapped his arms under your ass and hoisted you against his chest. your hair cascaded down around you both, shielding the rest of the party goers for how your lips couldn’t leave his.

“if my dick wasn’t so hard right now — i’d shove it in his face more,” rafe spat. “teach that prick a lesson about how he should treat a beautiful woman.”

you giggled against his lips. “another time — please, rafe. i need you.”

a deep growl went off in his chest, and he let you swallow it whole. rafe kissed you once more before he swung you over his shoulder, one hand firmly planted on your ass to keep you steady, and began walking towards the upstairs.

laughing, you raised your heard to wave goodbye to topper and your best friend — who were laughing and happy for you as they waved back.

with each step towards an empty room, you giggled at rafe as he was cursing at people who got in his way. he kicked a couple of people out of the room before he let you fall onto your back on the bed. your giggles died within you as he began to crawl over you.

“what if i wanted to ride you, baby?” you whispered, running a thumb along his cheek as you bit your lip.

he kissed the inside of your hand as his eyes never left yours. “no, sweetheart — never had such a sexy woman below me. i’m taking my fuckin’ time.”

“taking your time?” you asked. “you’re the host of the party.”

“fuck ‘em,” he spat, capturing your lips once more.

rafe’s movements were much more dominant than in the kitchen. the privacy of the four walls and closed door allowed him to cage your body in and wedge the front of his hips against yours. you hooked your ankles behind his lower back, pulling him into you with a grinding motion. little whimpers left your lips as the friction from your jeans hit your clit in the perfect motion, making you shiver in rafe’s arms.

“want those pants off, daddy,” you rasped. “don’t make me wait.”

“call me that again and i’ll give you anything you want, sweetheart,” he spoke, his hands immediately darting for his belt buckle.

you tore off your and rafe’s pants and rafe made quick work of taking that skimpy bikini off your breasts.

“i almost told you no when you asked to go upstairs,” he spoke, his hands slowly sliding up your stomach. “i wanted to make kelce so fucking jealous…” the palms of rafe’s hands rested on the swell of your breasts, thumbs drawing circles on your nipples. “wanted him to realize that the chick next to him had nothin’ on you… that i was the one to have you… wanted to see the realization in his eyes….” his thumbs and pointer fingers began rolling your sensitive buds in between each other, drawing sharp breaths from between your lips. “but i think you were right, sweetheart. don’t want anyone to see what’s mine.”

“yours?” you let the pads of your fingertips slide down the length of his chest and stomach. you kept your eyes locked on his, provoking him. “no man’s ever been able to make me cum before. what makes you think you’re different?”

he raised an eyebrow, darkness covering his irises. he was silent for a moment, studying you. you kept your baiting look on your face, but inside you grew worried.

rafe’s hand held your jaw in his, thumb prodding at your plump bottom lip. “gonna be a brat for me, that it?”

you shouldn’t have — but you did anyway. “and what’re you gonna do about it?”

an evil smile crept up on rafe’s perfect face. he let go of your chin and got off of you. you were curious as to what his goal was, but that was until he got himself between your legs. you laid back against the bed, and when you looked up — you realized there was a mirror on the ceiling.

you gasped at the sight. your hair was as crazy as your skin was flush. your eyes were as wild as rafe’s, and he stared back at you with darkness and lust all wrapped into one.

“you see that, sweetheart?” he asked, staring back at you. “sight that almost made me take you right there in the kitchen. you gonna be good for daddy, and let me show you how i’m better than all of those little boys?”

your teeth sank into your bottom lip as your cheeks blushed. “yes, daddy, please.”

“so polite,” he rasps, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek. a whine brews in your throat at the affection. “open your legs. let me see that pretty pussy.”

on command, you parted your legs for him. rafe slid one large hand down from your knee to the beginning of your tanned thigh. you watch as his hand cups your mound, and you shiver at the feeling.

“oh… just so soft for me…”

his voice was like caramel as it rolled of his tongue. smooth and sweet. he looked at your pussy like he fucking adored it, there was no other way to put it. when his head finally dipped and his tongue nudged itself at your clit, you leaned your head back against the pillows.

“you like to hide, huh?” he spoke, eyes wide at you as his tongue dripped in between your folds. “not tonight, darlin’. you’re watching me.”

you lifted your head up and watched as his tongue slid into your entrance, and rafe began to nudge your clit with his nose. you gasped at the feeling — completely unaware that was even a thing someone could do, let alone be good at.

“fuck…” you quietly gasped, folding your lips over each other.

rafe replaced his tongue with two fingers — sliding them in and out and curling at the top. a low hum began to build as you fought to keep your eyes on him. the hum was deep and warm, filling your rib cage. you didn’t want to scream, afraid of being too loud or too much for rafe… but keeping your eyes open was enough of a fight. when his perfect, plump lips made contact with your clit… you couldn’t help it. you let out a loud sigh as your vision began to glaze over.

“i wanna do everything i can to this pussy,” rafe bit, sucking at your clit. “smack it, lick it, fuck it, anything i want… just so warm and sweet.”

“…fuck…” while only one word, your voice had never broken so much. rafe’s words were so sensual and mind numbing it was hard not to lose yourself in the moment, free to completely enjoy the sight and feeling of one of the hottest men you had ever seen put you on a pedestal and fucking worship you. his tongue, velvet, was working its way around your clit like it wanted your thighs to clench and wrap around his head. “i’m so close, rafe…”

“that’s it, baby, yeah.” the slurping sounds from below you were pornographic. your hips were jutting up and down to meet his lips and fingers as he plunged inside of you. your hands had found the sides of his head, sad there wasn’t any hair to hold back. “you wanted to be a brat before, now what? blame all of those little boys? now look at you — too fucked out to care. dirty fuckin’ girl.”

he was right. your boldness had left you with your sanity. the low hum had now spread throughout your body until it was everywhere. a soft, quiet vibration could be felt in every one of your limbs until you sure you were shaking. a cocky bastard like rafe — you should’ve wanted to deny him your orgasm, the metaphorical trophy. however, every fiber in your being was telling you he deserved it. his tongue, his lips, his nose, his fingers, his eyes — they wanted you to finish all over his face, and they deserved it. every last drop. every bit of it. every. fucking. bit.

“you scared, baby? don’t get shy on me now.” he had now raised his face where now only his hand was on your pussy. with a concerned, focused look on his face, he dipped two fingers into your entrance as his rough palm was working your clit. “you want to be a good girl for me, don’t you?”

you shut your eyes for a little longer than you should’ve, but opened them back up for tears to collect in the corners of your eyes. the approach of an orgasm was like a current in water, sucking you under. there was no fight and there was no giving in. it was heavy, fast, and hard — drowning where you head had no chance of staying above water. your body was being pulled every which way as your brain fought to remain present, in control. through your glazed over eyes, you could see rafe smirk.

“oh — i don’t think my girl’s listening to me, is she?” his taunting voice was sending you up a wall. the rat bastard — making you feel so good and then demanding that you respond as if your mind wasn’t mush. he moved himself so he was now hovering over your body, balanced on one arm. “i know you can hear me. come on, baby — you wanna cry? do it. fuckin’ cry for me, darlin’.”

you weren’t sure why you needed permission — but something in your insecurity snapped that allowed you to let out one singular strangled moan in your sand paper throat. it was whiny, and soft, and most of all — fucking pathetic. you could see in rafe’s eyes he loved it.

“been so good for me, letting me play with you,” he whispered against your lips as he continued with his hand. “seeing this little body give in — wanna see how far i can go. can’t wait to split you on my cock.”

“let me cum on your cock, rafe, please…” you spoke through your tears. “need it so badly. please let me…”

“can’t cum without a cock inside of you?” he asked, immediately sitting up and undoing his pants. “finally allowed yourself to be a whore and ask for what you want… lettin’ me use that pussy…”

you were nodding furiously, tugging at him to come lay on top of you once more. he batted your hands away, confusing you.

“nah, lay back,” he spoke. “…because i know you want me to use that pussy, don’t you?”

“yes, yes,” you cried, voice breaking. “just want you to use me — fuck, please, rafe…”

there was that smirk again — before he dove in.

rafe had pushed your legs against your chest and held you there as his cock slid easily inside you. since you were denied a very close orgasm — your pussy had never been wetter. it was like your slick was causing him to slide further and further inside so he could be buried in there. with every thrust, your pussy tightened around him — and rafe let you know.

you stared up at the mirror on the ceiling as you watched rafe’s muscles flex. his shoulders and back — holding you down, making you take every thrust. watching his glutes tighten and release with every thrust sent shivers up and down your spine. however, nothing, not one single thing, could compare to the way rafe’s arms flexed around your head and body — holding you in place.

“fucking love your cock, daddy,” you whimpered in his ear. “so, so deep. feels so good it hurts.”

he groaned against your ear, straining to fight against the pleasure. his thrusts began to pick up strength and speed, refusing to give in before you do.

“can tell it hurts, baby — pussy sucking me in like she’s never cum before,” he gasped, his own voice threatening to break. “just needed someone that knew how to work you, huh? give you what you needed? fuck you like the slut you are?”

you dug your face into the crook of his neck, feeling lost in his words and embrace. “slut for your cock, daddy — fuck, just like that. just like that — right there!”

one of his hands reached up to grab a fistful of your hair, and yanked you back. with parted lips and gritted teeth, rafe forced himself against your throat and began to suck on the soft skin. the strain of the position took away what last bit of control you had. you were completely at rafe’s mercy — and you didn’t mind. the head of his cock was pounding against that spot inside of you. your brain and the lower half of your body were working in tandem — acting like they had never had an orgasm before, but that wasn’t the case. no — they had just never had an orgasm like this before. the kind where you are completely out of control, unable to get it back, and under the hands of a man who took such good care of you. maybe you should’ve been scared because you barely knew him, but you weren’t. he wanted your orgasm as much as you did — and you let your naivety get the best of you.

“never wanted to breed a pussy so fuckin’ badly,” he spat against the skin of your throat. “she wants my cum so badly, doesn’t she? sucking me in — what else?”

incoherent. that’s all you were. rafe’s hips smacking against yours, cock hitting just right — there was nothing that allowed you to stay present and sensible in that situation. you were all his, under his control.

“be mean,” you cried, squeezing your eyes shut. “be mean to me — and i’ll cum. fucking christ — please.”

“pussy like this, dirty as you are —“ he spoke, trying to fight his own orgasm. “no one should touch you but me. i own this pussy. me. no one can fuck you like me, that right?”

it was like music to your ears. your pussy was being split open and fucked raw — so dirty, so naughty, so wrong. yet, you were both grasping onto each other like there’s was nothing else in the world. rafe was working his cock into your pussy like your orgasm was his, and his alone. he —

he got tired of waiting for a response. he lightly smacked your cheek, and wrapped a hand around your throat.

you couldn’t be surprised — because your pussy only got wetter.

“you’re gonna fucking cum for me,” he spat against your eyes. “that’s mine. all mine.”

you caught a glance of what you looked like in the mirror above — a mess. a fucking mess. your face was covered in sweat, spit, and tears. your hair was everywhere, just like there was a flush all over your body. you saw the way rafe’s veins in his neck and forehead tightened and protruded as he spat dirty words against the side of your face.

“give it to me,” he spat through gritted teeth.

your eyes couldn’t leave the mirror. it shoved you farther and farther into your trance that you couldn’t look away. couldn’t move. couldn’t think about anything else.

“it’s yours, it’s yours…” you cried, throwing your head back.

your hands immediately came up to dig your nails into his back. your back, arched, pushed your tits into rafe’s face. his face, in awe, couldn’t help but suck a nipple into his mouth as he watched your body fucking shake. there was no more low vibration — your body, every limb, had fully succumbed to shaking and crying.

“pussy so tight,” he gasped. “fuck, fuck, fuck…”

through the mirror, you watch both of your orgasms hit you at the exact same time. with one snap of rafe’s hips, the muscles of his ass tightened where his pelvis locked with yours. his back and shoulder muscles went taut, rippling with the bout of adrenaline running through his veins. with rafe’s body holding yours down, he stopped your body from spasming. your skin was prickly to the touch as your blood was pumping, pumping, pumping. the walls of your pussy squeezed around his cock as strangled gasps pushed past your lips, and were swallowed by rafe.

against your lips, he whispered, “never letting you go now, princess.”

you giggled softly, shivering. “is that so?”

“yeah,” he mumbled, kissing you. “you’re fucked.”

- - -

happy nye here’s some smut HAHA love yall

-L xoxox

[lil-quinnie]

Ok, but hear me out, i wrote my first one! part II part III part IV

A knew dungeon

modern!gamer!eddie x  f!reader

warnings: 18+ cussing, cursing, dirty talk, grinding, soft!dom eddie, daddy kink, slightly non con, p in v, unprotected sex, breading, exhibitionism, little bit of degration, let me know if i forgot something,

word count: 1688

It was a normal night, you are napping in Eddie's bed after a hard day at work.

The cold breeze coming through the open window was the first thing that woke you up, that, and Eddie's constant keyboard clicks.

The light from his screen hurt your eyes, making you angry, but the last straw was him stuttering loudly at something his friend said over the discord.

"Baby, can you turn it down? There are people in here trying to sleep" you huff, sitting down at the edge of the bed.

Eddie was sitting in his gamer chair, into only losing shorts. You can see the outline of his cock even if it's not hard. You traced your eyes over all of his body, the V line, the happy trail going up to his lower belly. The bluish light from his set contouring the soft muscle of his abdomen, making his face shine pale and you found yourself lost in his beautiful face, big brown eyes over you, his hair tight in a high bun making you sigh.

He took of one of his headphones muting his mic, and smile wide for you

"oh, shit! babe, Sorry. Did I wake you up?"

 you let a soft laugh escape from your lips, how can he be so goofy and sexy at the same time?

"yeah! your keyboard make so much noise, all those clicks was inside my head" you roll our eyes with a playful smile "that, and is so cold here without you baby" 

Eddie took a few steps to you, lowering to give a gentle kiss at your lips, grabbing your face and putting his forehead at yours.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, i can't pause a online game, and we just found a new dungeon, i can't let the boys get all the glory"

Before you could respond, two big calloused hands pulled you up, he circled his arms around your middle, dragging you to his lap while he sat back in his chair. You back pressed into his naked chest, his warmth irradiating to you body, making you relax at him.

"Thirty minutes babe, then I'm all yours, ok? Sit here and be pretty while watching your metal boyfriend kill some fucking monsters"

He give your cheek a smooth kiss and put his headphones back, un-muting the mic

"Yeah fuckers, i'm back, let's do this!" he chuckles "shut up Gareth, it's none of your business"

15 minutes later, you started to get bored.

You watched his finger working on the keyboard keys with such expertise, his fat fingers moving up and down, pressing in the keys, making you feel your core burning, your bottom lips pressed between your teeths. You could feel his soft cock through your clothed pussy, and you started to grind on his thigh, your ass grinding on his mushroom tip, making he hissed at you.

"What are you doing pretty girl?" Eddie cocks his eyebrows to you with a smirk.

you pressed your lips at eddie’s neck,tracing his jugular with the tip of your tongue, your hips now on his hardener cock “i’m bored” you put your full weight on his lap, he could felt the wetness of your cunt on his shorts, you whisper in his ear "i need you baby".

Eddie opened and closed his mouth but the only sound that he made was a moan when you bury your wet folds on his hard cock. You keep grinding on his lap, but suddenly the friction was not enough, you let a growl escape.

You turn yourself on Eddie's lap, now chest to chest, you could feel his cock sticking on your clit, you moaned low into your boyfriend's neck as you rubbed your pussy, matching the rhythm of his hips.

Suddenly the clicking noises on the keyboard stopped and before you could say anything, Eddie's hands were tightening around your waist, pushing you further onto his cock.

"What a bad girl, couldn't even wait 15 minutes for me to finish the match, needy little girl" his hands went down to your ass.

He pushed your hips against his, pulling a moan from your lips.

"Is that what you need babe? my dick deep inside that wet pussy? so fucking wet for me”

His hands traveled into your body, stopping at your breasts

 "No bra, huh?" 

he squeezed your left breast, taking your nipple between his fingers, rolling and pushing a little too strong. 

"Oh! Eddie" you squirmed to his mouth on your clothed nipple, making you grind harder on him. A wet spot was forming on his shorts.

"Fish my cock baby, yeah, i need you to sink in this cock, need to feel that tigh little pussy, give me my pussy baby, you are a  fucking needy whore, such a good whore for me"

you freed his cock, his dripping tip, shining with pre-cum made your mouth watered. the tips of your finger tracing the way down through his body, teasing at the path of hair until the base of his length, fingers intertwined on his cock. You gave a few pumps before felt two fat fingers fucks your cunt making your legs weak and a pornographic moan fill the room.

The icon of a very non muted mic made Eddie smirk, he fingersfucked you, your pussy already stretched enough to his engorged dick.

You whimper for the loss of Eddie's finger, when he ripped apart your lace panties

"Eddie, what the fuck.."

You were cutted mid phrase for the tip of his cock teasing your entrance, you bite your lips trying to suppress the moans escaping from your throat

"Such a whore, need my cock so much, couldn't wait 30 fucking minutes to feel my big cock on that tigh pussy, right baby?"

He sinks you slowly into his cock, it's torture, the burning feeling from the stretching, the lights from his rgb keyboard reflect on his big beautiful brown eyes, everything was to much.

"I asked you a question, babe" he buckled his hip with more strength, making his cock deep inside you. "You want to feel all of my cock on your pussy? Want to make daddy happy? 'll let me fuck you like a filth whore you are?" his hips moving so slow made you buckle your hips searching for any kind of realease

"Say it, pretty girl and I'm gonna give. all. to. you." one more bite into the sweet spot between your neck and your shoulder and you are almost screaming on his lap

Eddie pushes your body incredibly closer to his, making your mouth near to his neck, to his mic. He sank your tight little hole into his cock in once, making you moan and whimper

"yes daddy, please, need your cock deep inside my cunt, wanna make you happy daddy, 'm your good girl, please please" 

The sounds your wet pussy were doing while you bounced up and down on eddie's cock echoed on the paperwalls from his trailer, were driving him crazy, knowing all his friends were listen while he fuck the hell of you.

"wanna make daddy happy? gonna be a good girl?" he patronize while the trusts being sloppier and harder

"h-mm, yes daddy, i'm gonna be so...good, oh!fuck" his hands on the fat of your ass, squeezing and guiding you on his dick 

"Lift your shirt, put this pretty little nipple into daddy's mouth, wanna taste you"

you did as you’re told, teasing his lips with your nipple, pressing it on the middle of his lips, your head fell back when his tongue enveloped your nipple, sucking and biting. His cock deliciously deep inside your sore cunt, making you feel a known knot on your lower belly.

"Gonna cum for me, pretty girl? tell me you are close, want to finished with you baby, touch that little clit for me, let me hear you falling apart on my cock" Your moans were muffled into eddie's neck, he was fucking you too your orgasm, he needed to be loud, to be a show. His big hand intertwined with your silk hair, pulling your face from his neck, your hands on his neck, pulling some of his hair, his free hand rubbing your clit, the final drop was his husky, low whisper on the lap of your ear

"Say it, my beautiful girl"

a fell seconds later all you could say was "i'm gonna cum i'm gonna cum, please daddy, please, please"

"cum inside me, need you to fill me daddy, please, please, please"

You and Eddie were tangled into each other, heaving chest and sweat bangs, he was the first one to break the silence.

"Fuck, you fuck me so good, took such good care of me baby girl, i don't know what i did to deserve such sweet girl like you"

a sweet smile blossomed on your lips as you kissed all over Eddie's face.

"I love you Teddie"

"I love you doll"

He pat your cheek with his thumb, eyes in admiration dancing through your face, he knows how to make you feel love even without any words.

"lemme tell you, go run a shower for us, i can order your favorite take out and we can watch whatever you want"

"sounds like a plan for me" you took in your own feet, going through the corridor to the bathroom, opening the shower and taking clean clothes for the pair of you.

When Eddie was sure you were far enough, he put his headphones from his neck to his ears.

"you are welcome fuckers, a word about that and i kill all of you with my bare hands... o shut up gareth, i know you listen the whole fucking thing, are you imaging her calling you daddy, huh?"

your voice put Eddie out of his mean mocking with his friends

"Teddie, are you coming?"

"Coming my love"

-mic of- 

[lilgarbitch]

Touch, Torture, and Tattoos- Nicholas Ruffilo (One shot)

Pairing: Nicholas Ruffilo x Reader

CW: tattoos/ description of getting one, bit of shitty plot, lots of dirty filthy evil smut 🤭, SassySubby!Nick (more like bratty switch), unprotected p in v(naughty lil fuckers), creampie, cockwarming???, my shitty writing 🫶🏻

Word Count: 10.8k👀

Author’s Note: Just a quick lil thing. Don’t ask what came over me to make this. Just know that I’m not to blame😇 (i wrote the smut before the plot so the opening is ass ngl)

Viewer discretion is advised. 18+

You sat in the slightly uncomfortable metal chair of the tattoo shop, trying to entertain yourself on your phone. Nick was quiet as he focused on the leg of the client in front of him, not wanting to make any mistakes, so you made sure you did your best not to distract him. 

The boys had time this week to relax and do what they wanted, for once not having to be in the studio or travel for an interview, so you happily accepted their invitation to spend time with them since you haven’t had the chance to see them in a while. 

The group and you mainly hung out at their house, either watching movies, swimming, making a mess in the kitchen, or chatting about how life used to be before they got big. It was nice that they finally had time to just relax and have fun in the mix of their busy schedules. And you were definitely happy that you were finally able to see Nick again. You had a crush on him for as long as you could remember, instantly being attracted to his humor and his gorgeous looks, but pushed the feelings away once they started getting busier, knowing that there wasn’t even time for a relationship, even if he felt the same. But that didn’t stop the feelings from slowly resurfacing and becoming more than just a crush every time you had the opportunity to spend time with him.

Every time all of you hung out, your attention always seemed to fall on him more than the rest. Even when watching a movie, your eyes always trailed towards him. You never made it obvious, though. You did your best to treat them all the same, treating them like brothers. The last thing you needed was to make it awkward, or even worse, create so much tension you couldn’t see them anymore. But the tension that had been building inside of you was becoming torture.

Nick had known of this break for a while now. Itching to get back into tattooing, he asked a friend of his if he could use his studio for a day, then asked around if anyone was looking to get a piece done. He had two offers, and you happily told him that you were willing to get another. Not that you weren’t always down to get a new tattoo, but you mainly offered so you could spend more time with him. You loved spending time with the boys, and absolutely enjoyed hanging out with all of them, but when a rare chance came to get alone time with Nick, you just had to take it. 

You two had been here since early this morning. He told you that you didn’t have to come in until later in the day, but almost seemed sad to say, like he regretted spending most of his free day away from you. But with the offer of being the errand runner and grabbing us lunch, he happily obliged. Not that he needed any convincing, but he had to pretend like he felt bad making you spend half the day doing nothing but sitting in the shop with him. 

Your attention gets pulled from your phone as his client stood up and walked to the mirror to check out their new tattoo. Nick chatted with them for a few minutes, getting payment set up and wishing them a good day as they left, pleased with the new piece of art on their body. 

He walked over and sat down in the chair by you, stretching his back after being hunched over for an hour. 

“I love doing this, but god, does my body hate it,” he mumbled as he stretched his arms over his head. A small sliver of skin caught your eyes as his shirt raised with him, but you quickly blinked away any inappropriate thoughts and looked back up at him just in time for him to settle and glance at you. 

“So, you ready?” he asked, clapping his hands together with a smile on his face. You couldn’t help but match his smile. 

“Always,” you said as you stood up from your chair. 

He stood and walked over to where he had your piece already drawn out and prepared on a stencil. You two had been shooting ideas back and forth for the last few days, and eventually landed getting a skeleton hand. One of the few remaining spots you had open on your skin was on your rib, right below your breast, so you decided that getting the hand to fit the curvature of your body would look pretty cool.

He grabbed the stencil and walked over to you, so you lifted your shirt, holding it right below your bra. He eyed the space of blank skin, then held the stencil up to it. After a few moments of him lining it up perfectly, he finally placed it. You both walked over to the mirror so you could check the placement. After turning your body a few times, making sure you liked where it was, you told him it was perfect. 

You walked over to the bed and laid down, tucking your shirt under your slightly lifted bra, and angling your body in a way where the stencil could be easily worked on. He set up his table with everything he needed and then got himself sat and pulled up next to you, ready to start. 

“All good to go?” he asked, making sure you were officially ready to start, and you nodded. 

You did your best to relax, but tattoos in this area were hard not to focus on. So you mentally prepared yourself as he reached out and held your side and brought the needle to your skin. But the sensation of his touch completely overpowered the pain of the needle.

All you could focus on as he began working was the way his gloved hand held and pulled at your skin. You didn’t know if you were glad that you didn’t have to focus on the needles, or if this feeling was much worse. He was touching such a sensitive area, and you had to try your hardest not to blush or react in any way. 

His finger grazed against your skin, causing you to shiver. He stopped and looked up at you with a concerned look. 

“You okay?” he asked, assuming that was because he just went right over bone. Knowing you’d just stammer your words, you nodded.

But your eyes locked onto his as he looked up at you, and your mind went blank. The look of concern mixed with something you could distinguish in his pretty blue eyes fueled a fire inside you that you needed to extinguish as fast as possible. You blinked and turned your head away, trying to get that look out of your mind. He finally went back to working on your tattoo, and you forced yourself to focus on the pain, needing it as a distraction. 

After about an hour of grueling torture, him constantly being so sweet, and you forcing yourself to keep your mind off him and on the needles repeatedly hitting your skin, he finally finished. 

“Let me just wipe one more time and then you can go check it out,” he said as he scooted his chair back and grabbed the green soap. 

“Okay,” you said, sighing a breath of relief. It wasn’t over just yet, but you finally had a break from the torture. 

He came back over, gave you one last wipe, and then moved back, giving you room to stand so you could check it out. 

You walked over to the mirror and eyed your new piece, a smile forming on your face. It was really good. Not that you hadn’t expected it to be, but it was thankfully worth being so close to him for an hour straight. 

“I love it,” you said with a smile, turning to him. His eyes snapped up from your body and to your face, almost as if he had been caught staring, and he mirrored your smile. 

“I’m glad. Now let me wrap that and I can close up shop,” he said as he quickly turned to grab Saniderm. 

His mind raced as he went to wrap your new tattoo, needing to be quick so you could finally put your shirt down. The last hour had been absolute agony, being so close to such an intimate part of you. He had to use every fiber in his body to keep his focus on your tattoo and not let his eyes glance up at your slightly exposed under-boob. 

You were sitting on Nick’s bed, back pressed against the wall, scrolling on your phone as he worked on his laptop, occasionally typing away as he answered his emails. He said he had to get a few done, and offered to let you hang out in his room with him until the rest of the guys got back from doing who knows what.

You did your best to entertain yourself as he worked, but you mind kept trailing back to how close you two were earlier. How you could almost feel his breath on your skin as he worked on your new tattoo. The way he kept glancing up at you, checking to make sure you felt okay. You couldn’t get that look out of your mind. His pretty eyes just looking up into yours, holding more emotion that he let on. You had been so worked up since the tattoo started, and it wasn’t going away. 

At this point, you had stopped scrolling and were just staring off into space as your mind wandered, imagining the emotions you could get his eyes to portray. Every thought that you had pushed away was now flooding your mind since he wasn’t focused on you, and being alone in his room with him did absolutely no help. 

You finally come back to reality, only to notice him glancing at you in your peripheral. You glance over, but once he realized he had been caught, he quickly focused back onto the screen in front of him, causing a smirk to form on your lips. Was he actually losing focus because of you?

“Getting distracted, Ruffilo?” you teased, causing him to tense slightly at being caught. Your mind was glazed over with how turned on you were, and you couldn’t stop yourself anymore. You just wanted to mess with him. 

He cleared his throat, not taking his eyes off the laptop, and did his best to act nonchalant as he responded, “Huh? Oh. No, just thinking.” 

“Good. You wouldn’t want to miss any important details,” you teased with a smirk still on your lips. He let out a small huff and playfully rolled his eyes as he looked at you. 

“I would never. I’m a professional,” he said, making you bite back a giggle. He was so cute when he tried to play things off.

“Oh, I know,” you responded with an amused smile. He raised an eyebrow at your smile. He did his best to keep a cool demeanor, but couldn’t help but feel a little flustered at your expression. 

“Then why are you teasing me?” he asked, pretending to be annoyed. You gave him a playful scoff. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, feigning offense, making him chuckle. He turned in his chair and looked at you, crossing his arms. 

“Oh sure you don’t. You’re just the picture of innocence,” he said sarcastically, causing you to giggle. 

“Yeah. That’s one way to put it,” you replied, a smirk tugging on your lips. He couldn’t help but smile at your giggle, it causing a strange warmth in his chest. But your smirk was causing a much more intense reaction in him that he had to hide.

“But you’re awfully sassy for someone who tries to be so innocent,’ he teased, his tone turning playful, with a hint of flirting. He was enjoying this playful banter between you two. 

“Sassy?” you said, trying to hide the amusement in your voice as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah. You’ve got quite an attitude on you.” He teased, chuckling at your act. You crossed your arms and tried thinking of the best comeback, but none were coming to you. 

“Well you’re easily distracted.” you finally said, giving him a playful grin. He raised an eyebrow at your comment. He tried to play it off, but there was a pang of embarrassment in his chest.

“Easily distracted? Me? I’m never distracted.” he protested, trying to sound confident.

“Oh yeah? Then how far along are you on those emails?” you teasingly asked, pointing to the laptop sitting on his desk. His eyes glanced over to the laptop, one that showed a half written email, and mentally cursed at himself. He had gotten distracted thinking of you, and then let you distract him even more with the playful bickering.

“I’m…uh…almost done,” he lied, trying to salvage what dignity he had left.

“Oh yeah?” you asked, a laugh escaping your lips. He tried to keep a cool demeanor, but he was getting more flustered as you teased him.

“Yes. I’m serious. I’m almost done,” he repeated, trying to sound more confident this time as he turned back to his laptop. 

“Good, because I’d feel bad if I was the reason you couldn’t get any work done,’ you said, amused. He could feel his face getting more flushed. He tried to come up with a witty comeback, but all he got out was a flustered stammer. 

“Y-you’re not the reason..I just..got distracted, that’s all,” he managed to get out, making you smirk as he finally admitted to being distracted.

“Then what’s got you so distracted?” you playfully asked, causing him to tense up. He didn’t want to admit it, so he tried coming up with the most convincing answer. 

“I don't know..I guess I’m just tired from having to focus on tattooing all day.” he lied, now pretending to be more focused on this half written email on his screen. 

You nodded with a grin on your face, not actually believing him, just having a lot of fun messing with him. He knew you didn’t believe him, but he was just thankful you stopped pushing the issue. He let out a sigh as he started typing again, doing his best to focus on the words, but he couldn’t stop letting his mind travel to you. His eyes involuntarily trailed back to you, causing you to smirk. 

“Do I need to leave?” you teasingly asked, calling attention back to how easily distracted he was. His eyes widened slightly as he realized he had once again been caught staring, so he turned back to the screen, hiding his blushing face. 

“N-no, you’re fine. I’m just..lost in thought,” he said, trying to play off that he was just straight ogling you. You giggled and crawled across the bed, moving closer to him. 

“Whatcha thinkin about?” you asked, in a slightly annoying childish voice, wanting to tease him more. He swallowed hard as he heard you move closer to him. He tried his best to keep his composure.

“N-nothing important,” he lied. His eyes flickered over to you against his will, gauging how close you now were. 

“Well, it’s obviously important enough that it keeps distracting you,” you said, feigning a sweet tone. He let out a soft huff, getting frustrated at how easily you were getting to him. He shifted in his chair, trying to maintain some semblance of control in this situation. 

“It’s not important enough to share, trust me,” he said, his voice slightly strained. He tried keeping his gaze back on his screen as he felt the tension in the room grow thicker by the second, but his eyes trailed to you once more, curious as to why you were so quiet. Once his eyes landed on you, he saw that you were giving him a childish pout. He sighed, knowing that you always did that when you didn’t get your way, but he had to resist telling you the truth. 

“Don’t give me that look,” he said, trying to sound stern, but you giggled when you noticed the amusement in his voice. He let out a defeated sigh and leaned back in his chair as his resolve crumbled away at the sound of your laugh. 

“Fine. You wanna know what I was thinking about? It was you. I was thinking about you, alright?” He said, slightly embarrassed but also annoyed that you actually managed to pull it out of him. 

You raised your eyebrows in shock, not expecting him to be so blunt and say it already. It wasn’t like you didn’t already know, but you were surprised he just came out and told you straight. 

“Oh, you were thinking about me?” you asked, once again bringing back your playful tone. His cheeks flushed more as he realized how bad of an idea it was to admit it. He didn’t want to, but you broke him down so easily. 

“Yes, I was thinking about you,” he repeated, his voice low and gravelly. He kept his gaze on you, gaging your reaction, “You’re driving me crazy, you know that?”

“And what about me were you thinking about?” you asked playfully with a smug smile. This caused him to groan. You had been playing at his frustration and desire all day, and now that he was forced to think about you, he was struggling to keep those thoughts under control. 

“Everything about you. Your smile, your voice, your eyes…everything,” he said, his voice growing huskier. He shifted in his chair again, trying to alleviate the tension in his body. Your eyebrows raised slightly as an amused smile played on your lips. 

“Everything?” you asked, your tone teasing, yet slightly seductive, causing his eyes to darken. He could feel the tension in the room reach its boiling point, and he had to refrain from losing control.

“Yes. Everything,” he repeated, his voice getting closer to a growl as you kept pushing his buttons. He gave himself permission to rake his eyes over your body now that he knew he had nothing to hide, “I can’t get you out of my head, no matter how hard I try.”

“Did this start before or after the tattoo?” you ask, seemingly unaffected by his tone or actions. 

“Before. Long before,” he answered, his voice dripping with desire as he watched you with hungry eyes. He had developed an attraction to you a while ago, but being so close to you as he tattooed you just made it worse. 

“And how did you feel when I told you where the tattoo was gonna be?” you asked. You were enjoying this way too much. Just watching him lose it right in front of you. 

“I was…conflicted. On one hand, I was excited to finally get so close to you, but on the other, I knew it was going to be absolute torture.” he answered. You feigned offense at his playful choice of words. 

“Torture? You saw being so close to me as torture?” you teasingly asked. He couldn’t help but chuckle at your reaction. You had a mischievous glint in your eyes and he knew that you were enjoying this a little too much. 

“Don’t give me that look. You know exactly what I mean,” he said, his tone getting more seductive, “Being so close to you, yet not being able to give in and.. touch you…it drove me insane.” 

“Well looks like you’re gonna have to stay insane,” you teased, shrugging. He was just giving you more and more opportunities to mess with him, so now you were going to keep riling him up and just not give him what he wanted. His eyes darkened more at your words, his smirk fading into more of a frustrated expression. 

“Don’t tease me like that…You have no idea how badly I’ve been wanting to touch you,” he said, his voice dropping to a low husky whisper as he leaned forward. You just gave him a smug smile as you relaxed back, supporting yourself on your hands as you met his gaze with a mischievous look. 

“And that’s why I’m not gonna let you,” you said bluntly. His eyes widened at your serious tone, his face turning into a mixture of desire and determination.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, tempting me like that just to deny me. It’s cruel.” You just shrugged, amused with how easy it was to egg him on. 

“You can’t do anything about it. I won’t let you, so you’re just gonna have to suffer from a distance,” you said nonchalantly with a smirk playing on your lips. He took a deep breath and glared at you. 

“You make it so hard for me to be a gentleman,” he mumbled through gritted teeth, his eyes raking over your body hungrily, “You’re so damn tempting, sitting there all smug and teasing me like that,” 

You let your eyes slowly trail over this figure, seeing how tense and worked up he was, before landing back on his eyes with a mischievous smirk on your lips. He’s making it so easy to get him riled up, and it just makes you more excited to finally break him. You knew this was all an act. He wanted you to think that you had no control over him, but in reality, he was wrapped around your finger. 

“Hey, I said you couldn’t touch me. But if you’re nice, maybe I’ll touch you,” you said in a stern yet seductive voice, getting quieter towards the end. His breath hitched as you spoke and his body tensed at the thought of you touching him. He looked at you with a mix of desire and desperation in his eyes, slowly breaking. 

“You’re killing me here. How can you say something like that and expect me to behave myself?” he said, his voice straining as he struggled to maintain his composure. You so badly wanted to make a face, finally cracking down on his faux dominance, but you knew exactly what you could do to get him to finally break. You gave him a teasing pitiful pout.

“Because you wanna be a good boy for me, don’t you?” you asked in a soft teasing yet seductive tone. His eyes widened as the words left your mouth. He swallowed hard, doing his best to keep his composure, but his mind and body had already given in. It took a few moments for him to respond, but he gave in.

“Y-yes…I wanna be a good boy for you..” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. A proud smile formed on your lips, happy that you finally got to him. 

You scooted back on the bed, creating a space for him, before patting the spot next to you. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting between your face and the spot on the bed. He was torn between his desire to give in to your every whim, and his pride, but ultimately, the desire won and he slowly stood up and walked to the bed. 

He sat stiffly, trying to maintain some semblance of control over himself, but his body was tense with anticipation. He looked at you with a mixture of nervousness and excitement in his eyes, waiting for your next move. Taking that as a sign to continue, you softly pushed against his shoulders until he was now lying down in front of you. He didn’t resist, but just tensed at your touch. He watched you intensely, his heart racing in his chest as he waited to see what you would do next. He felt vulnerable in this position, completely at someone’s mercy for the first time, but there was a sense of trust and excitement in his eyes. 

Enjoying the adorable man completely giving himself to you, you gave him a warm smile as you softly started tracing your fingers against his stomach, trailing them over his hips and down his legs, giving him a glimpse of the new dynamic. His breath hitched at your touch, his skin felt extra sensitive as he was not used to being so vulnerable, but also loving it.

“Now remember, no touching,” you said softly yet sternly as you looked into his eyes.  

“I..I won’t touch you…I promise,” he said, his trembling voice barely above a whisper. His body felt like it was shaking with desire, but he was determined to be good for you. 

You gave him a soft smile and a quiet, ‘Good boy,’ as you continued teasing your fingers across his body. He just watched and took in the feeling as you started trailing your fingers down to the hem of his shirt. You hooked your fingers under and pulled up until there was just a delicious thin strip of bare skin between his waistband and shirt, and softly traced your fingers over it, watching his reaction as you teased him. 

Nick’s eyes fluttered shut and a soft gasp caught in his throat as he felt your fingers brush against his bare skin. He could feel his body responding to your touch, his skin tingling with every gentle graze of your fingers. He was completely under our spell and he knew it. He let out a shaky breath and opened his eyes to look up at you, his gaze filled with desire and submission. 

You bit back a smirk as you caught his gaze. You knew that he was falling deeper and deeper under your control and you loved it. You looked back down to where your fingers traced against his skin and slowly moved them up, bringing the shirt with them. He watched as you slowly lifted his shirt, exposing more and more of his skin to your touch. He could feel the heat rising in his body, and his breathing grew heavier with each passing second. 

You were going to tease him for as long as he let you, so once the shirt lifted to right above his navel, you leaned down and started softly littering kisses on his bare skin. His breath hitched as he felt your lips touch his skin. The sensation flooding his mind, and a low groan rumbled in his chest. His eyes closed as his body overreacted to your touch. 

“That feels so good…” he managed to whisper out, his voice thick with desire. He wanted to touch you so badly, to get you to speed up, but he knew he had to resist. He was determined to let you take the lead, even if it killed him. 

You looked up at him with a playful gaze as you started trailing kisses higher and higher, lifting the shirt with you. You just wanted to see how long it was going to take him to start begging for more. As he felt your lips trail up and his shirt rise, he opened his eyes and looked down, meeting yours. He had a look of desperation and admiration, and you could tell this was slowly driving him insane. 

“Please…don’t stop,” he begged, his voice ragged. He was struggling to keep his composure as his body tensed and trembled with desire. He was completely under your spell, willing to do anything to keep feeling your touch. 

Once his stomach and chest were on full display, you continued to litter his skin with soft kisses, occasionally licking and nipping at sensitive spots. This caused him to lose himself in a haze of pleasure, his body responding to your every touch. He let out a string of low moans and soft gasps and his back arched, pressing himself against your lips more.

“F-fuck…you’re driving me crazy,” he managed to gasp out, his voice laced with need and desire. 

You were enjoying the sight of him falling apart under your touch, so you slowly started upping your game. Trailing kisses back down his chest and stomach, you slid your hand onto his thigh, softly rubbing it, moving your hand up and down, and occasionally rubbing his inner thigh. He let out a soft gasp as his body started responding to your touch, his muscles tensing and his breath picking up. Enjoying his reactions, you started moving your hand higher, getting a little too close to his growing bulge. He let out a strangled moan as his hips involuntarily bucked slightly in response. 

“Please…please don’t tease me like that,” he pleaded, his voice almost a whine and filled with desperation. He was growing more and more frustrated and desperate with each passing moment, his body aching for your touch. 

“Be a good boy for me, baby,” you said softly, with a slightly demanding tone. As much as you enjoyed his begging, you’d never give in. You were going to make a mess of him. 

Nick shuttered at your words, his body responding instinctively to your command. He wanted to be good for you, to obey your every whim. He clenched his fists tightly, trying to regain control over himself. 

“I-I’m trying…I’m trying to be good,” he gasped out, his voice strained. He could feel the tension building inside of him, the need for more growing stronger by the second. 

Humming appreciatively, your kisses started getting lower, now running along his waistband, and your hand moved higher, now brushing against his bulge. He let out a shaky airy moan, jolts of pleasure shooting through his body every time he felt you moved your hand. 

“Oh god… you’re killing me,” he whimpered. His body trembled in anticipation, him wanting nothing more than for you to touch him, to give him the release he so desperately needed. 

A small giggle erupted from your throat, the vibrations traveling to his sensitive skin. You lifted your head and just watched him as you started softly palming him through his jeans. A strangled moan left his lips as he felt the heat and pressure of your hand against him. Every time you rubbed your hand against him, he let out a small gasp, his body tensing in response.

“Please, baby…more…I need it so badly,” he begged, a desperate, pathetic whimper. 

“Beg all you want, my love, you’re gonna get what I give you,” you said with a slightly stern tone. He whimpered again at your tone, his body submitting to your will. He knew there was no use in begging, but he couldn’t help himself. The need for your touch was overwhelming, and he would do anything to feel your hands on him. 

“I’ll be good…I’ll do whatever you want,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at you with pleading eyes, silently begging you to take pity on him. 

His eyes just made you want to tease him more. This was becoming too fun for you. To have so much control over him that he could look up at you with those pretty eyes, begging you to help him. It was like a drug, and you just wanted more. 

Keeping your eyes on his, you leaned back down and pressed your lips on the waistband of his pants, and slowly kissed closer and closer to his aching bulge. He watched with a bated breath as your lips moved closer. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his body tense with anticipation. He desperately wanted you to touch him, to give him the release he craved so badly. He let out a shaky moan once you were so close yet so far from where he needed you the most. 

You gave him one final look, before placing a sloppy open mouth kiss against the height of his bulge. He let out a loud moan the second your lips finally made contact with it. The feeling of your warm mouth through the fabric was almost too much to bear, and he couldn’t stop himself as he bucked his hips up against you. 

“Oh god..yes…please..” he gasped out, his voice laced with need and desperation. He was completely at your mercy now, unable to control the way his body responded to you. 

Pleased with his reaction, you decided to step it up a notch and softly sink your teeth into it. Not enough to hurt him, but just enough for him to really feel you through the fabric. He let out a strangled cry. The sensation was both shocking and pleasurable, sending a jolt of electricity through his body. His body shuttered as his hips bucked, desperately trying to get more friction.

“F-fuck…do that again…please..” he gasped. He was completely lost in the moment, completely lost in your touch. 

Even though you said you wouldn’t give in to his commands, you enjoyed the reaction too much. You softly pressed your teeth into him again, this time running your tongue along the fabric between them. He let out a loud moan as you did it again, the sensation of your tongue sending shivers down his spine. He was practically writhing beneath you now, his body wracked with pleasure. 

“God…I can’t take it anymore…please..let me cum..I need to come so badly,” he pleaded, his voice hoarse and desperate. The feeling was too much and he was ready to explode at any moment. You lifted your head and looked at him, giving him a pathetic pitiful look.

“I haven’t even touched you yet, and you’re already about to cum?” you asked condescendingly. He let out a strangled whimper at your words, his face flushing with embarrassment. He knew it was pathetic, but he couldn’t help it. He was so pent up, so desperate for release.

“I-I know…I’m sorry..I just can’t help it,” He said, his voice trembling. He looked up at you with pleading eyes, silently begging for mercy, “Please…just touch me…I need to feel your hands on me..”

You raised an eyebrow as you brought your hand back to his bulge, softly palming him again, giving him a small sliver of what he was begging for.

“And why should I do that?” you asked. He let out a shaky breath as he felt your hand on him again. His hips arched up against your hand, desperate for more friction. 

“Because…because I’ve been good for you. I’ve been doing everything you asked..please..just give me a reward..” He begged. He was practically panting now, his body trembling with desire. 

“Oh, you want a reward? After all the begging and commands for more, you think you deserve a reward” you asked, your tone condescending yet teasing. You hooked your leg over his and moved to straddle his thighs as a way to get more of an advantage on him. You began palming him again, this time much lighter so he couldn’t get as much pleasure from it, causing a whine of frustration to leave his lips. It was torture, and he could feel himself getting even more worked up. 

“Please..I’ve been a good boy. I’ve done everything you asked…I need this so badly,” he begged, his voice shaking with need as he looked up at you with pleading eyes. Smirking at his desperation, you moved your hand up to the waistband of his jeans, popping the button then unzipping them. You looked back up at him as your fingers started toying with the waistband of his boxers. 

“I don’t know. You’ve been pretty naughty, always bucking your hips even when I told you that you had to be good and not try to touch me,” you teased. He could feel his heart racing as you played with the waistband of his boxers and your words sending a shiver down his spine. 

“I’m sorry…I couldn’t help it. You just feel so good,” he gasped out, his voice barely above a whisper. He was desperate, willing to get on his hands and knees if it meant you’d give him the release he so desperately craved. You finally hooked your fingers under his waistband. 

“You gonna be a good boy and let me touch you?” you asked, your voice raspy with seduction. His eyes locked onto yours as he swallowed hard. 

“Yes..I’ll be good..Just please..please touch me..” he pleaded, his voice shaking with desire. He would do anything to feel your hands on him. Absolutely anything. You start to pull his pants and boxers down, but stop, right before his tip could peek out. It couldn’t hurt to keep teasing him, right?

“You know, I don’t know if I believe you. Maybe you should beg some more,” you said, looking back into his eyes with a mischievous look. He looked at you with pleading eyes, his desperation evident. He could feel the cold air on the sensitive skin of his tip, and it was driving him crazy. 

“Please…I’ll do anything. I’ll get on my knees and beg if I have to. Just please touch me. I need it so badly. I need to feel your hands on me. I’ll be good. I promise.” A smile formed on your lips on your lip at his begging.

As much as you’d love to see him on his knees, begging to be touched, you figured you could just give it to him. You pulled down his pants and boxers more, just enough for his cock to spring out. The tip was red, hot, and desperate for attention. He let out a sigh of relief as you freed his aching cock. He looked up at you with a mix of desperation and gratitude.

“..Thank you…” he whispered out, his voice trembling. He could feel the cold air on his exposed cock, and it was driving him wild. He wanted you to touch him so badly, to relieve the intense pressure that had been building inside him.

He let out a low moan as you ran your fingers against his sensitive skin, his body tensing at the touch. He closed his eyes, his breathing ragged and uneven. As you wrap your hand around him and brush your hand over the tip, he let out a gasp, his hips bucking up involuntarily. 

“Oh god…that feels so good..” he groaned, his voice thick with pleasure. 

A string of curses escapes his lips as you start loosely pumping his cock, the feeling of your hand dragging against his skin sending waves of pleasure through his body. He tried to keep his hips still, but they kept bucking into your touch, seeking more friction. 

“Please…more…I need more,” he gasped out, voice hoarse with need. You stopped your movements and looked up at him.

“Stop moving and begging or else I’ll stop,” you said, your voice stern and condescending. He whimpered at your command, his body going rigid as he forced himself to stop moving. He opened his eyes and looked up at you, his expression pleading. 

“I’ll be good, I promise. I won’t move or beg…just please…don’t stop,” he pleaded with a trembling voice. He desperately wanted to obey your orders, wanting to prove that he could be good for you. That he deserved this.

Humming contently at his words, you shift your position, now moving your hips closer to his until the base of his cock was pressed right against your covered core. He let out a strangled moan as you moved. He could feel the heat radiating off of you, and it was driving him crazy. He wanted to thrust his hips up against you, but he forced himself to stay still, remembering your command. 

“Please…can I touch you? Just a little bit?” he begged.

“Good boy for asking, but no,” you said with a teasing smile. He let out a frustrated groan as you denied his request, but quickly forgot about it as you started rocking your hips against his cock, rubbing yourself against him. The feeling of your heat against him was almost too much to handle, and he had to fight the urge to grab your hips and pull you closer. 

“God…you’re so cruel..” he gasped out. You giggled as you stopped your movements. 

“Cruel? My love, you better watch your mouth,” you said with a mischievous grin. He swallowed hard as he realized what he had done. He knew he was pushing his luck, but he couldn’t help it. He was so desperate for you, so needy. 

“I’m sorry..I didn’t mean it. You’re not cruel, you’re just…driving me crazy,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He stared at you with his signature pleading eyes, begging for you to continue. 

You softly giggled at his apology. He just gave you a perfect opening to mess with him just a little bit more. He watched as you slid off his lap and stood beside the bed, a whimper escaping his lips, worried he actually ruined his chance at release. He looked at you with a look of curiosity and frustration, wondering what you were planning next. With your eyes still on his, you slowly moved your hands to your pants and undid them, before slowly pulling them down and stepping out of them. His eyes widened as you were now left in only underwear. 

With a smirk, you crawled back into the position you were in before, straddling his hips. He felt his cock twitch as he watched you and felt your bare legs now pressed against his hips. 

“Fuck…you’re killing me,” he groaned, his hands gripping the sheets tightly. 

He let out a low moan as you grabbed his cock and positioned it against your wet panty-covered core. The feeling of your wetness against him was too much to bear, and he involuntarily bucked his hips again. 

“Please..I need to feel you..no more teasing.” He pleaded, his voice thick with desperation and need. 

“I was gonna let you touch me, but since you keep making commands and bucking into me, I guess I won’t,” you said looking down at him sternly. His eyes widened as you spoke, making him curse under his breath, regretting his actions. 

“No, no, no..I’m sorry..please. I won’t do it again, I promise. I’ll be good. Just please..please please let me touch you,” he begged, his hands still gripping the sheets tightly. He was desperate to feel your skin against his, to feel the warmth and softness of your body. You hummed as you debated his words. 

“Thighs only,” you said as you watched the way he gripped the sheets below him. He let out a sigh of relief as you agreed to let him touch your thighs, albeit just your thighs. He let go of the sheets and reached up to grip your thighs, his hands finally being able to slide up and down your soft skin. 

“Thank you…thank you so much..” he whispered, his fingers softly digging into your flesh. He massaged and gripped at your thighs gently, trying to show you how grateful he was for even this small amount of contact. 

You hummed at the feeling of his large hands on your thighs. Slowly and softly, you began rocking your hips as you watched him. Nick let out a shaky breath at the feeling of your core rubbing against him, driving him insane. He gripped your thighs tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he fought the urge to thrust up against you.

“God…you feel so good. I wish I could feel you without these damn panties in the way,” he groaned through gritted teeth, his voice strained with need. Pleased with his reaction, and secretly agreeing with him, you slipped your hand down and slid your panties to the side. 

“Your wish is my command, my love,” you said as you pressed your now bare pussy against him. A loud moan left his lips as he watched. The feeling of your bare skin against his was almost too much to handle, and he couldn’t hold back much longer. 

“Oh..f-fuck..that’s so much better,” he gasped out, his hands sliding up to grip your hips, pulling you closer.

“Hey. Thighs only, remember?” you said sternly. You enjoy the way he pulled you, but you couldn’t have him thinking he can just get away with doing what he wants. He quickly let go of your hips, grumbling in frustration, but obeyed your command and brought his hands back to your thighs.

“Sorry..you just feel so good..I couldn’t help myself..I want to feel all of you..” he whimpered. 

“Be a good boy, and you will,” you said as you started moving your hips again. He fit so perfectly between your folds and rested perfectly against your clit, rubbing it every time you moved. 

He watched as you moved, his eyes fixed on the spot where you were connected. The feeling of your slick folds against his sensitive skin was almost too much, and he could feel himself getting closer to the edge. 

“I’ll be good..I promise. I’ll be the best boy for you, just please..don’t stop,” he gasped out. He gripped your thighs tightly, trying to control himself and not buck his hips again. 

You held him closer to your core, applying more pressure. You hummed a moan, loving the feeling of him rubbing against your clit. He groaned as he felt his cock throbbing against you. He could feel your arousal dripping down his shaft, and it was driving him wild. He wanted nothing more than to grab your hips and thrust up into you, but he knew he had to be patient and wait for your permission. 

The pleasure of his cock dragging against you was so nice, and you needed more. You let go of him and moved up his hips more, your core now right above him, and started grinding into him. Soft moans escaped your lips as you felt him rubbing through your folds and against your clit so perfectly. His eyes widened, and he let out a guttural moan, the feeling of your slickness against him becoming too much to bear. He could feel your arousal coating his cock, and he desperately wanted to be inside you. 

“Fuck…you’re so wet…so hot..” he gasped out, his hands gripping your thighs even tighter. 

The feeling of his hands gripping you in pleasure and need just added to the feeling, causing you to speed up your movements and applying more pressure, needing to feel him against you more. His hands gripped your thighs tight enough that you wouldn’t be surprised if they left a bruise, the pressure and friction against his cock becoming almost unbearable. He could feel his release building up inside him, but he fought it, not wanting this moment to end. 

“Please..I need more, I need to be inside you, I need to feel you clenching around me,” he pleaded, his foggy mind causing him to whine. You couldn’t agree more. He let out a gasp as you grabbed his cock and positioned it at your entrance, the feeling of the tip pressing against your slick heat sending shivers down his spine. He looked up at you with pleading eyes, silently begging you to continue. 

“Please…please let me inside. I’ll do anything,” he pathetically whimpered. 

You slowly lowered yourself onto him, causing him to let out a frustrated groan as you teased him. He could feel his cock twitching as you slowly took him, desperate for more.

“You’re torturing me..please..I need to feel all of you,” he begged, his hands returning to your hips and desperately grabbing at them. You wanted to scold him again, but felt as if you teased him enough, so you let it slide as you finally sank down on him. 

Nick let out a loud moan as your hips met, the feeling of your tight walls enveloping him was overwhelming. He gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he tried to hold back from thrusting up into you.

“Oh..god..you feel so good,” he gasped out, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. 

You grabbed one of his hands and brought it to your core, causing his eyes to shoot back to you as you pressed his fingers against your clit. Quickly understanding, he began rubbing circled against your sensitive nub as you began moving up and down. 

“Oh yes..just like that,” he groaned, his other hand gripping your hip tightly as he tried to hold on for as long as possible. 

A low moan left your lips. The feeling of him filling you up so perfectly, mixed with him rubbing your clit was mind-numbing. You involuntarily clenched around him in pleasure, causing a strangled moan to leave his lips. The feeling of your walls tightening around him almost sending him over the edge. He continued rubbing you, but his movements became more erratic as he fought to hold back his own release. 

“You’re so tight… squeezing me so good..” he gasped out, his eyes locked on where his cock was disappearing inside you. 

You couldn’t fight back the sounds that wanted to escape your lips. He just felt so good and you could feel yourself getting closer. You just needed a little more. 

“Nick?” you whimpered out, causing his eyes to shoot up and meet yours with a dark look of desire. 

“Yes, my love?” he asked, his voice hoarse with need. He continued rubbing you, his fingers moving faster and harder against you, hoping to bring you closer to your release. You had to fight back gasps as you said the words you knew he wanted to hear. 

“Fuck me,” you sternly pleaded, needing him to take over. His eyes widened at your plea, his heart racing in his chest. He had been holding back for so long, so he couldn’t resist any longer.

“With pleasure,” he growled as his hand moved back to your hip, his grip tightening as he began to thrust up into you, meeting your movements with powerful strokes. 

Instantly, loud moans left your lips as you brought your hands up to his chest, leaning on him for support as you gave him full control. He groaned as you gave him a better angle to thrust into you. He could feel your body trembling, and he knew you were getting close. 

“That’s it, baby…Let go. I’ve got you,” he grunted, his thrusts becoming faster and harder as he pounded into you relentlessly, finally not having to hold back anymore. 

Your eyes squeezed shut and your eyebrows furrowed as pleasure coursed through your body with each thrust. Your release was approaching faster and faster. He could feel you clenching around him, and he knew you were getting close. 

“You’re so close, I can feel it. Cum for me, baby. I want to feel you cum all over my cock,” he growled, his own release rapidly approaching. 

With a few more thrusts, you came undone. A loud moan fell from your lips as your head dropped and pleasure took over your body. Nick watched as your body shook in pleasure and he let out a loud groan as he felt your walls spasming around him, the sensation officially pushing him over the edge. 

“F-fuck,” he grunted, his hips stuttering as he thrust up into you a few more times before spilling himself inside you, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself inside you. 

Another loud moan left your lips as you felt his hot cum spill into you. You involuntarily clenched around him more, milking every last drop before collapsing onto his chest. 

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly against his chest as he tried to catch his breath. He could feel your heart beating wildly against his own, and he couldn’t help but smile at the feeling of being so close to you. 

“Fuck…that was amazing,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse from exertion. He ran his fingers through your hair and gently stroked your back as he basked in the afterglow of your orgasms.

Once you both finally calmed down, your heartbeats gradually slowing down as you came down from your high, he pressed a gentle kiss on the top of your head, feeling a wave of affection wash over him. 

“You’re amazing, my love,” he murmured against your hair, his fingers still gently running through it. You hummed at his praise and affection, bathing in the dopamine. He chuckled softly at your response, his hands now tracing soothing circles on your back. 

“You’re so quiet now. I think I wore you out,” he teased. A smirk formed on your lips. There was no way you were going to let him bask in that small moment of dominance. You looked up at him and placed a hand on his cheek, ready to pull out your winning move. 

“Yeah, you were such a good boy, Nick,” you said softly, giving him a proud look. His eyes widened and he felt a slight shiver run down his spine, loving the praise. 

“You think I’m a good boy?” he asked, a hint of playfulness in his voice as he leaned into your touch. You softly brushed your thumb against his cheek. 

“Such a good boy. Listening to me and making me feel so good,” you said with a teasing seductive tone, softly clenching around him still inside you to really prove your point. He let out a low moan, his cock still sensitive from his orgasm. He couldn’t help but feel a rush of pleasure at your words and actions. 

“Oh god..don’t..don’t do that. You’re gonna get me worked up again,” he groaned, his grip on you tightening slightly as he tried to control himself. You giggled mischievously at his reaction. 

“And we wouldn’t want that, would we?” you asked playfully. Nick shook his head, a mixture of amusement and frustration on his face. 

“No, we wouldn’t. But you’re making it so hard to behave right now,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. He shifted slightly underneath you, trying to adjust himself so he wasn’t so sensitive, but it was difficult with you still wrapped around him. You hummed, amused. He was just making this too easy. 

“You’re a good boy, Nick, I know you’ll behave,” you said softly as you ‘absentmindedly’ shifted into a ‘more comfortable position’, so your hips were slightly raised, him still halfway inside you.

Nick let out a soft groan, his cock twitching as you shifted. He could feel your breath on his chest, and the feeling of your body pressed against him was driving him crazy. He tried to calm himself down, taking deep breaths and focusing on your words. 

“I’m trying..but it’s not easy when you’re being so tempting,” he muttered, his hands moving to your hips, gently rubbing circles against your skin. 

You giggled softly. This wasn’t anywhere near over for him. He was smug now, but you were going to break him until he cried. With your head still lying on his chest and a sweet smile on your lips, you very slowly started moving your hips. Pressing them down torturously slow so he sank back into you, then lifting them so he dragged back out of you. He let out a strangled moan, the slow and deliberate movements driving him crazy. He gripped you hips tightly, trying to control himself as you teased him. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” he groaned out, his eyes closed as he tried to focus on anything but the feeling of your body against his. 

“Just be a good boy and ignore me,” you said sweetly as you continued your movements, loving the feeling of him slowly dragging in and out of you. 

He let out a low growl, his fingers digging into your hips as he fought to follow your instructions. He desperately wanted to thrust up into you, to take control and make you his, but he knew that you were testing him. And he couldn’t let himself disobey your orders. 

“It’s not that easy,” he said through gritted teeth, his eyes fixed on the way your ass moved up and down on him. 

“Just think of anything but the feeling of your cock slowly pumping in and out of me,” you teased, your tone full of faux innocence. His eyes darkened at your words and he let out a frustrated huff. 

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Torturing me like this?” he asked, his voice laced with both desire and annoyance. He tried to think of anything else, but everytime he closed his eyes, all he could see was the image of you riding him. 

“Torturing you would be forcing you to stop touching me again,” you teased, a mischievous smile forming on your face. His grip on your hips tightened as his eyes snapped open and looked at you. 

“Don’t you dare,” he said, his voice low and serious. You were right, but he was already struggling to control himself as is. 

Hearing his challenge, you lifted yourself so now you were holding yourself up on your hands and knees, able to easily rock back and forth to continue teasing him. His breath hitched in his throat, this angle making it even more difficult to resist the urge to thrust up into you. You looked straight into his eyes with a mischievous look. 

“Don’t challenge me, love. I absolutely will if I have to,” you said, your tone condescending yet seductive. 

“You’re such a brat, you know that?” he growled, his voice low and husky. Despite his frustration, he couldn’t help but find your confidence and control arousing. You brought your hand to his jaw and held it, forcing him to look at you. 

“Now now. Don’t be mean. I could make this absolute torture for you,” you said sternly with a smirk. His eyes narrowed as his gaze was locked on yours. He knew you had the upper hand in this situation, but he couldn’t help but feel a mix of frustration and excitement at your dominance, wanting to test it. 

“And what exactly would you do to me, hm?” he asked, his voice dripping with defiance. You raised an eyebrow at his tone. 

“You really wanna know?” you asked, your tone both teasing yet threatening. His expression darkened, a hint of a challenge in his eyes. 

“Yes, I do. I want to know what you’d do to punish me for being mean,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. He couldn’t resist the temptation to push your buttons, even if it meant getting himself in trouble. 

You let out a huff at his bratty attitude. Within a blink of an eye, you grabbed his wrists and held them above his head as you fully sunk down on him, using your body weight as leverage to keep him pinned. He gasped as you moved. He struggled against your grip, but found that he couldn’t break free. And the feeling of being completely inside of you again caused a moan to rumble deep in his chest. 

“Oh god..you’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” he said through gritted teeth, his eyes locked on yours with a mixture of desire and frustration. You leaned down so your lips were close to his ear. 

“You tested me. You wanted to be a naughty boy, so now you’re stuck like this,” you whispered harshly into his ear, causing him to shuttered and tense beneath you. He couldn’t tell if he hated being restrained like this, or if it turned him on even more. 

“I-I didn’t mean to be naughty. I can’t help myself when you’re being such a brat,” he protested weakly, his hips twitching as he tried to move against you. 

He was really pushing his luck now. You tightly clenched around him in punishment as he called you a brat again. He let out a low groan, the feeling of your tight walls gripping him making it difficult for him to think straight. He finally gave in.

“Watch it.” you said sternly. 

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to call you a brat. You’re just so damn irresistible when you’re in control like this,” he whimpered out, a hint of frustration in his tone. 

“I’m glad you enjoy it, because now you’re stuck like this. I’m not moving,” you said harshly. He let out a frustrated whine at your words. 

“You can’t leave me like this. I need more. I need to feel you moving on me,” he pleaded, his hips shifting beneath you in a futile attempt to get some friction. You just pressed your hips into his more as your grip on his wrists tightened.

“I can do as I please. And it’s not so bad right? Feeling my tight pussy around you as you’re restrained to the bed. You get to think about the way you came in me. The way you thrusted in me and how I moaned in pleasure. The way my body shook as I came around your cock,” you whispered in his ear, your voice both seductive and menacing.

He let out a low whine as you effectively immobilized him. Your words sent shivers down his spine and he could feel his cock twitch inside you as he thought about everything you said. 

“You’re evil,” he whined, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he struggled against your grip on his wrists. 

“That’s what you get when you’re a naughty boy. You’re lucky you even get to feel me. I could tie you to this bed as I play with my pussy in front of you and never let you touch me,” you whispered menacingly into his ear. His eyes widened at your threat, and he felt a pang of desperation in his chest. 

“No, no, please don’t do that. I’ll be good, I probably. I’ll be your good boy,” he said quickly, his voice a pleading whine. The thought of being denied any further contact with you was too much to bear. 

“Oh? So you wanna be a good boy again?” you ask condescendingly. He nodded vigorously, his expression full of submission. 

“Yes, yes, I do. I’ll do anything you say. I’ll be your good boy, your obedient slave. Just please, please let me touch you. Let me feel you,” he begged, his voice trembling with desperation. A small amused huff left your lips. 

“Sorry, my love. You haven’t proved yourself just yet. But I’ll give you a chance. No touching. No moving. Got it?” you asked him sternly. He let out a frustrated growl, but nodded in defeat. 

“I got it. No touching and no moving. I’ll stay still like a good boy,” he said, his voice tinged with resignation. He was desperate for your touch, but he knew he had to obey your rules if he wanted any chance of being rewarded. 

You let out a hum of appreciation as you began moving your hips again. He let out a sigh of relief, his eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to move. Instead, he focused on your words and kept his hands firmly pinned above his head, even though every fiber in his being was screaming for him to try and touch you.

You two finished cleaning yourselves up and getting dressed again. You were cuddling on his bed, whispering sweet things to him, praising him and complimenting him. Telling him how good he was and how pretty his eyes looked when he looked up at you like that. He just softly hummed at your praise, staring up at you in adoration as you spoke. 

That’s when you heard the door downstairs close and a stampede of feet come into the house, causing you two to scramble up and out of his bed. You both took one last look at yourselves, making sure the previous event wasn’t painstakingly obvious, before opening his bedroom door and going back to the places you were before. Him on his laptop and you nonchalantly scrolling on his bed. 

You heard footsteps coming up the stairs and turned to the door to see a smiling Noah appear. 

“Show me the new tat,” he said excitedly, causing you to laugh.

You sat up and lifted your shirt, holding it right below your bra. He got closer and looked at it smiling. 

“That’s sick! It really fits you. Nick did a good job,” he said as he examined it. You smiled and turned to Nick, who was watching you two. 

“Yeah. He did really good,” you said, secretly winking at Nick since Noah’s eyes were focused on your new piece. 

Nick blushed and turned back to his laptop as Noah stood back up and looked at you. But then his eyes caught something. 

“And what’s that?” he said, a smirk forming on his face as he pointed to your neck. The fresh love bite, still forming on your skin.

[neiptune]

jjk boys x what they do for valentine's day

a/n: suggestive if you squint! these are for funsies!! like all my silly impulsive self indulgent hcs!!! enjoy!!!! i'm sending you all virtual chocolate and kisses!!!!!

ok listen yuuji is a baby he doesn't know anything and your relationship is still kinda new therefore he panics. easily. what would you like? flowers, roses? candle light dinner? the biggest heart shaped box of chocolates he can find? you best believe he won't be able to pick an option so he will just pick everything. can't risk it. a bouquet of pretty flowers is delivered to your workplace along with a box of truffles & you come home to find your kitchen absolutely wrecked (how did he even get inside?) and the table in the dining room filled with a certainly interesting combination of dishes lol listen he tried his best and you don't have the heart to tell him you would've been happy with a box of pizza and a movie so when he greets you with the sweetest happy valentine's day baby!!!! you can only wrap your arms around his silly little neck and kiss his silly pretty lips <3

megumi remembers everything. all the time. the man's an elephant. even when you think he's not listening, even if the information you're sharing is 100% trivial (pedro pascal is hot, touching raw chicken freaks you out, you think smelling fresh paint ain't odd) his brain is constantly registering everything that comes out of your mouth. not only that, but your reactions too. so of course he's noticed the way you'd softly smiled after a surprised gasp had escaped your lips when you'd found that antiquarian book in a specialized store on the outskirts of kyoto. of course he's picked it up for you (too expensive? not on his watch). of course he's slipped a simple, handmade card right inside (he knows you would've had his head if he'd glued anything on the page itself). the card reads “if you were a book, i'd never put you down”. you cry & he freaks tf out lmao

gojo doesn't give a fuck about your job nor possible weekend plans, his extra ass has bought tickets to paris and you don't get to have a say in the matter. your suitcase on friday morning? packed. your mom? informed. your boss? he ain't important enough. satoru doesn't let you lift a finger: he's prepared everything, all the way up to your airport outfit (sweatpants and his hoodie, you better be cozy and comfy), he's even cleaned the house so you won't stress about having to do it once you come back. he wants valentine's day to be extra special, you've never been a fan of big romantic gestures so he promises the whole trip doesn't have to be about expensive dinners, champagne & roses. It's about you two being silly little tourists together, having fun, trying new food, possibly fucking in the jacuzzi he's made sure the hotel room comes with-

what geto does is: show up. LMFAO you two were broken up and of course he's at your door on valentine's day, not a flower nor an apology in sight, he just mumbles an annoyed “enough with this bullshit”, takes your face in his hands and waits. the fucker actually waits for your eyes to give him permission to kiss you devour you. he doesn't wanna talk about it, he just wants to spend the night with you in his arms (soooo clingy don't even get me started, you have to eat dinner sitting on his lap bc he won't let you on a separate chair, he'll wait for you to get out of the shower like a lost stray cat, will order all your favorite snacks and happily sit right next to you on the couch never once casting his eyes away from you. he's missed your face too much, although you'll never hear him say it out loud

you and nanami have this tradition of gifting each other the most ridiculous v-day stuff you can find. he deals with enough boring serious grown up shit and you simply won't have it when it comes to your relationship. you need to see him smile and roll his eyes with fondness as you hand over personalized boxer briefs and stuffed animals and a coffee mug with “if you were an angle you'd be acute one” written on it. He does his best to follow the rules (so far he's given you socks with his face printed on them, a “i chews you” chewbacca graphic t-shirt, a “ring for sex” bell and “i love you from top to bottom” toilet paper) but he. just. can't. help it. in the end he always, always gets you flowers and makes sure he cooks at least one of your favorite meals. he keeps it simple so you won't complain but nanami is just the happiest when he's allowed to spoil you a little. he loves you sosososo much and basks in your resigned smile as soon as you come home and catch him wearing an apron. you hope he's gonna like the new watch you got him

inumaki is a little shit most of the time. he's a playful boyfriend. he enjoys banter. he loves annoying the shit outta you. but did he fall head over heels for you? does everything remind him of you all the time? does he text you pictures of red orange sunsets and weird clouds and cute puppies and his lunch 24/7? yes. doesn't like admitting it often but he's whipped. and that's precisely why his valentine's day preparations are not really preparations. he's working all year round. you look at something at a craft show? he'll get it. you're reading a book by a new author you seem to be enjoying? he'll get three more books written by them. you're into a specific type of music? he'll spend a few evenings crafting different personalized playlists. he's always ready. he always has something to give you, something he's probably picked up months before. he doesn't remember how to look at the world without noticing all the little things you'd love about it

yuuta asks you to be his girlfriend on valentine's day!!!! you've been dating & he's smitten but he thinks you want the whole thing to stay casual and he's so far from being casual lol he just can't help himself, he has to know if you're exclusive. so it's a cold cold day, you're sharing a towel on the sand at the beach and you're casually telling him about your day when his fist tightens in his pocket and he just blurts the question out. and if it isn't the softest, most wonderful “would you want to be my girlfriend?” you've ever heard. you tease with a laugh and gently nudge his shoulder with yours. “i thought of you as my boyfriend like three dates ago” and when i tell you this man's face lights tf up like imagine a million christmas lights sparkling on the most beautiful tree. that's yuuta looking at you. thank fuck the little chocolate tube he brought can actually be shared

[soelstress]

Going For The Gold

Pairing: Lance Tucker x female!reader

Summary: You show the God of Gymnastics what going the distance really means.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI , nsfw , sex/smut, p in v sex , unprotected sex , oral sex (m & f receiving)

A/N 1 - This is my second submission for @mercurial-chuckles Smutber Fest. Thank you for extending the smut fest & apologies this is a few days late!

A/N 2 - Prompts - Once again I asked a friend to pick up to five prompts for me... and of course I was given five yet again so two stories it is 🙈 The prompts this time are mirror sex & marathon sex

A/N 3 - GIF from Hyperfixations Galore via Google Do not Steal, Copy or Plagiarize any part of my work

“Hey there gorgeous”. You prayed it was a mistake - that the greeting was not aimed at you. Or better yet, the annoyingly familiar voice did not belong to who you suspected. Surely fate was not that cruel. “I thought I recognised those pretty lips”.

Yep, fate was that cruel. A big patriotic mass plopped into the chair beside yours, ordering tequila. Subtly, you gave him a once over. Lance Tucker hadn’t changed in the year since you’d last met. Still proudly flaunting his Team USA coaching gear, his body appeared to be as toned as ever. For a moment, your gaze lingered on his face. For goodness sake couldn’t he have gotten wrinkles or something, anything to make him a little less appealing? Sonofabitch - he had eye crinkles, looking dignified as he flashed a smile at the bartender. Lusciously thick brown hair, twinkly blue eyes and pouty pink lips that were sinful with a sweet smile. Until he either smirked or opened his mouth... then you wanted to smack him. “Fuck me”. Shit, you hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“Gladly. My room or yours?” Lance smirked, popping a toothpick into his mouth. Your hand twitched as his lips curled. “Seriously though. What brings you here?”

Leaning back, you took a sip of your drink and watched as he leaned toward you. “Here on business. I go where I’m needed”. He nodded, remembering that you never stayed in one place too long due to your job. “What about you? Last I’d heard you ditched Amherst and flew to sunny LA with Maggie to keep rolling in those gold medals but then your star pupil became your baby mama”.

Lance's smirk faded and he leaned back into his seat, reaching for one of his tequila shots. “The baby wasn’t mine”. He eyed the golden liquid before knocking it back. “She’d been seeing someone before we flew out to LA. She only screwed me to try and claim the kid was mine. Her guy wasn’t too happy about that and told me everything. I reported that she was pregnant, she got kicked off the team and I had to deal with the fallout”.

Your stomach swooped in sympathy. Lance was a Grade A prick and the cockiest asshole you’d ever met - called himself the God of Gymnastics, poached his rivals gold winning protégé and slept with said rival to sabotage her relationship - all in the name of revenge for her bronze medal overshadowing his silver and gold performances years prior. But no one deserved to be lied to like that, especially about a child he believed was his. “I’m sorry, Lance”. 

Lance chuckled mirthlessly, reaching for his second shot. “Bet Greggory will laugh her ass off when you tell her ‘Fucker Tucker’ got fucked himself”.

You shook your head. “I haven’t seen Hope since you two hooked up a year ago. My family were the ones who told me what you were up to these days”.

Lance cocked his head. “A year ago? Wait, that’s when we hooked up as well”. You nodded, not expanding further. Frowning, he turned to face you. “Hey, you’re not mad about that are you? We didn’t have an arrangement-“

Sighing heavily, you took a bigger swig of your drink before fully facing him. “No, I’m not mad that you hooked up with Hope the night after me”. You were telling the truth, you weren’t mad about that. Lance was right - the two of you had no relationship, that last hook up was your first time sleeping together. You had slept with him the first night, but work had prevented you meeting up the next night. You had been on your way to ask Lance if he wanted to hook up again on the third day, but instead you overheard him complaining that Hope had been a bad lay and gone on in vivid detail to describe what had happened between them the night prior which had sounded very similar to your night with him. Though apparently the increased number of positions Hope used hadn’t impressed Lance in the slightest. Shaking your head, you saw Lance had leaned closer and placed his hand over yours. “Seriously Lance, I’m not mad about it”.

Gently, Lance caught your chin and looked at you. Not knowing what he was looking for, you kept his gaze until the smirk teased his mouth again.  “Good. I’m glad”. His thumb brushed your lip, eyes darkening when it popped open. “So… back to my question… your room or mine?”

A big part of you knew this was a mistake. Though it was clear no strings attached was what Lance was offering, no good could come of it. But on the other hand, part of you wanted to see if it would be like your last hook up.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was. Exactly the same. Within seconds of entering his room, both of you were naked. You weren’t a gymnast let alone an athlete, barely managing to squeeze a basic fitness routine in your schedule but that didn’t matter to Lance. Just like before he was contorting into various positions, more focused on Olympic gymnastics rather than mattress gymnastics. He’d been at it for a while, changing positions every time you started to settle into a rhythm. Neither of you had cum yet. “Yeah. Yeah. Fuck” he groaned, now shifting to press you against the wall. “Fuckin… God of Gymnastics”. His thrusts began to speed up.

Something inside you snapped. There was no way you’d let him use the same routine with you now that he’d used on you AND Hope last year. And there was not a snowball's chance in Hell you were being left high and dry like before. You were going to make this God pray to you. Shifting, you moved so his cock slipped out when he pulled back. Lance moved on instinct, trying to sink back into you. He froze when your hand gripped his cock tightly. Panting heavily, his eyes never left yours as you began to stroke him. “Last time, we agreed on hot marathon sex. You’ve got stamina, Tucker”. His smirk vanished at your next words. “But you and I have very different opinions about marathon sex. You’re more focused on the positions than the pleasure. So now… I’m gonna coach you”.

You led him, literally by the balls, to the bathroom and started up the walk in shower. Once the water was warm you grabbed the body wash and began to work him over, petting and caressing every line, curve and hollow. A pleased sound escaped you when he reciprocated. He was trying to urge you along by focusing specifically on your breasts, but since he’d skipped the foreplay both times you decided a little retribution was in order. Your hands slid down and he grinned lazily as you slowly began to stroke his cock, giving him a soapy slippery handjob. Once the suds had been rinsed and you saw Lance was close to the edge, you gripped the base of him. His blue eyes burned with lust and confusion. You carefully sank to your knees. Licking your lips, you offered a soft kiss to the tip of his cock. Lance whined softly, hips jutting for more attention. Smiling, you placed wet kisses and licks up and down his shaft watching as the thick flesh seemed to follow your mouth, almost enchanting him like a snake charmer. Eyes locked with his, you slowly began to suck him into your mouth. “Oh fuck!” Lance threw his head back, one arm splaying on the wall to keep his balance while the other tangled into your hair. You slowly continued to suck him in, almost with your nose to the base when his grip tightened and he tried to tug. Your nails dug into his thick thighs and when his gaze landed on you he could see the warning flash in your eyes. His whines cut off when you resumed the tortuous pace, bringing him to the edge twice before stopping. “Fuck… gorgeous… please…” Lance moaned loudly, the noises echoing off the wall and giving you a high that you were making him react this way. Looking up, you gently pushed him back against the chilled wall at the same time you sucked firmly. “FUCK!” Lance cried out, gripping your hair tightly but not pulling as he came in your mouth. Swallowing his spend, you stood and walked out of the shower, grabbing a towel to briskly rub down. Dazedly, Lance followed your example. 

It took him a few seconds but he then moved, caging you against the wall of the shower. The cold was a sharp contrast to your heated body but it felt amazing when Lance pressed his body to yours. His fingers glided over your nipples, down your belly and to the heat between your legs. He teased your entrance before sliding one thick finger in, cursing softly. “So damn snug. God…” He hissed when he slipped in another finger. As he rubbed deep within you he felt your walls begin to tremble. “C’mon gorgeous. Give it to me”. With a moan you tipped into your orgasm, not noticing that Lance dropped to his knees and lifted one of your legs over his shoulder. He stared at your dripping heat, licking his lips. “S’pretty” he murmured, tongue darting out when you clenched around nothing. “I can’t… I gotta” he mumbled before his tongue made a thick long stripe into your folds. “God… you’re liquid gold, gorgeous”. He dove back in with an enthusiasm that surprised you, sounds of satisfaction spilling from him. His nose nudged your clit as he eagerly lapped away. You whimpered when his tongue speared into you. Grabbing his hair you pulled him closer and cried out at his happy moan, the vibrations almost pushing you over the edge. Lance gave a few soft licks to your clit before suckling gently. A long whine echoed in the bathroom as you peaked again.

Looking down, you saw a tiny smirk grace Lance's glistening lips and the ache to take him down a peg resurfaced. Once he stood, you pressed up against him and kissed fiercely. Both of you moaned at the taste of the other’s juices. Jumping up, you wrapped your legs around his waist, one of his arms underneath to support you while the other pulled you tight against him. “Window” you murmured. His brows shot up to his hairline but he carried you through before carefully setting you down. Turning you pressed away from the glass, arching your back as Lance slowly thrust himself inside you. One hand held you close while the other roamed your body - squeezed your boobs, brushed your clit. A few more circuits had you nearly seeing stars and Lance was also heaven bound before you pulled him tight against you to stop him moving. 

”No! Please gorgeous… ” he pleaded, desperately trying to somehow find that delicious friction. “No… beautiful… please baby”.

“Look, Tucker. Look at yourself”. Glancing up, Lance saw himself in the window reflection. His blue eyes glistened with tears at being denied, his face flushed with desire and his lips swollen from being nibbled and kissed. He whined, wanting so desperately to find his release. “You wanna cum?” 

”Yes. Please gorgeous… baby. Please” he whispered.

”Show me what you got”. 

Bracing his hand against the glass, Lance encouraged you to arch your back more and began to thrust slowly and deeply within you. Feeling his heavy balls start to tighten, he sped up slightly. “No… c’mon gorgeous… need to feel you… please… please baby”. Desperately he sucked at your neck at the same time he tweaked your nipple. Your walls began to quake and his cock jerked within you. Lance whined. “Fuck… feels so good. You feel so good…”

As he continued to thrust, you noticed that his whines were growing higher. Mind whirring, you encouraged him to gently pull out. His movements halted and you glanced down to see his cock was still hard. “Feel good, baby?” Almost shyly, he nodded. “Think you can do one more?” Head cocked, Lance looked adorably innocent for a moment. He nodded again. “Then lay down on the bed”.

Without hesitating Lance laid down, eyes sparkling as you followed. Carefully, you sat on top of him and slowly guided his length into you. You moaned loudly but still heard his whine. “Shit… s’too much baby… I can’t…” 

”Yeah you can”. You gently ran your hands all over his body, kissing and sucking his neck, jaw and lips. “C’mon… c’mon Coach”. At your soft coo, Lance began to buck up into you, hands gripping your waist tightly and keeping you attached to him. “Yes… oh God… Lance!” You cried out as stars exploded in front of you.

Lance silently screamed as you milked him again, the pleasure almost painful. Once both your highs had ended, he held you close. Chest heaving, he saw you tracing figures on his skin. “So… how’d I do in marathon sex Coach?” he murmured.

”Silver”. Shocked, his eyes darted to you. “Your initial efforts were half assed at best though your performance did improve”. Lance's lip trembled. “But then again you know practice makes perfect…”. As you smirked, you felt a gentle nudge against your inner thigh. “Ready to go for gold?”

[lincolndjarin]

Oh Honey. ✩ Chapter 2

chapter two : beware the jabberwock

series masterlist ao3 kofi main masterlist

a/n : took a while to get out but here is chapter two !!! i have a lot of fun writing this fic bc the pacing is so much different than bks but i'm excited to get this chapter out bc i loved writing it so much and i'm so happy that people enjoy this fic so far !!

pairing : monster!joel miller x mortician!reader

rating : 18+ mdni - explicit content, read all warnings

word count : 15.1k (i'm so sorry idk what happened)

summary : new relationships are tricky, especially when your boyfriend likes to disappear for several days with no explanation.

warnings, etc. : dub con?? i'm gonna tag this with that because the sex is like weird in this?? a lot of it is angry or reluctant from one participant at times so i'm gonna tag it just in case, soulmates au, no outbreak au, language, graphic descriptions of violence, gore, fear, feeling of being stalked, feeling of being watched, me making up things regarding the embalming process, animal death, graphic description of the mortuary process, menstruation, derealization (sort of), smut, oral f!recieving, p in v, biting, just like a lot of mouth stuff lmao, cum eating, rough sex, degradation, sort of dumbification, joel is a bit beastly, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, praise, use of the pet name bunny, nightmares, periods, menstruation, joel is a terrible boyfriend, angry sex, injury, blood, blood drinking, manipulation, not a/b/o but something i made up that is sort of along those lines??, body horror, monsters, predator & prey dynamic, a lot of stuff happens this chap so i might have missed some sorry!!, no physical description of reader but joel is described as being abnormally strong and does pick reader up, there is no actual fucking of a monster yet we can't just do that right out the gate it's a thriller it destroys the thrill if they fuck immediately, that being said; this is a monster fucker fic - proceed accordingly

comments and reblogs are appreciated!

You don’t sleep well after your dream.

Just staring up at the ceiling until the sun is starting to shine through the windows. 

Not that you’ve been sleeping well recently to begin with. And Joel suddenly feels less safe, the grip of his arms around you feels more like it’s trapping you rather than protecting you.

It’s Joel. 

Just take a deep breath. 

It’s Joel. Joel Miller. Sweet, handsome, kind, Joel Miller. Joel who came back, even though you assumed you’d never hear from him again. 

It was nothing more than a dream. 

Stop making up monsters. 

You slip out of his arms, quietly making your way over to the fridge to try and find something to make for breakfast. You haven’t gone shopping in a while, all you’ve got is half a loaf of bread and a few eggs. Good enough. Clicking the stove on you set a pan down, cracking the eggs with a small sizzle as they hit the metal. 

“Up already?” You didn’t hear him wake but when you turn he’s propped up on an elbow watching you. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” Not technically a lie. 

“Are you okay?” He sits up a bit and you can feel him sizing you up. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” 

You aren’t really. 

But you can’t really tell him why, so why bother. 

He stretches his arms above his head as he gets up, making his way over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and resting his head on your shoulder as you flip the eggs. 

“Hungry?” You’re desperate to think about anything but your dreams, as you speak his grip around your waist tightens. 

“I could eat.” You shudder for several reasons as his teeth graze your neck before nipping at you. 

“These should be done in a few minutes, I just gotta make the toast.” You laugh softly as the scruff of his beard brushes against you. 

He makes it too easy to forget your fears. 

“Mhmm.” The vibrations from his humming make you gasp, nearly dropping the spatula in your hand as he squeezes you for a moment. You work around his advances, putting the bread in the toaster as one of his hands slips under your shirt. 

“How many do you want?” You hold up the bread in front of him, trying to get him to pay attention but it’s getting difficult to stay focused on your task when something is currently pressing against your ass. 

“I think I’m fine with just this.” He squeezes the bare flesh of your torso making you yelp a bit as his hand drifts further up. 

“What happened to your third date rule?” He groans as you reach over to the stove, turning the burner off to keep the eggs from burning before turning around in his arms, your back pressed against the counter. 

“We should go to dinner tonight.” He smiles before leaning forward to kiss you but you put a hand between his mouth and yours. 

“What makes you think I’ve forgiven you enough to warrant another date?”

He pouts. His bottom lip sticking out a bit as he frowns. 

“Wouldn’t matter if I did anyway, it would only be the second date.” You shrug. 

“Last night was the second date.” He says rather matter of factly. 

“That didn’t count.” You can’t help the smile that threatens to form on your as his frown deepens. 

“So you wanna wait for two more dates.” 

Definitely not.

“Tonight?” For a brief moment you try and think of anything else you might be doing but you don’t exactly have a social life here in Honey. 

“S’gotta be, I’m spending tomorrow with Ellie and then I’ll be busy with work, gotta catch up on some things.”

Why would he need to catch up if he’s been busy all week?

“Tonight works.” Even after what he put you through you still feel the strangest pull towards him, dragging him to the table with you as you set down a couple plates. 

“I’ll be here at eight?” He sits, an accomplished look on his face. 

“Works for me.”

You have an uneventful breakfast. 

Neither one of you talks about his disappearing act. And eventually he has to leave for work and so do you, so he gets his things together once you eat.

“Get dressed, I’ll drive you to Maria’s, I gotta pick up Tommy anyway.” He takes a sip of whatever juice you had left over in the fridge as you nod, finding something clean to wear before following him out to the truck. 

He makes it too easy.

He smiles like everything is fine and he holds your hand as he drives.

“Have a good day at work.” You return his smile and he leans across the truck cab to kiss your forehead.

“You too, I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you tonight.” You wave at him as you walk up to the house, Tommy’s just leaving, giving you a pat on the back as he passes you before jumping in the truck with his brother. With a weak smile you watch them go. 

There are no bodies today.

It’s a paperwork day for both of you. You know Maria’s dying to ask about what happened but she never does, just staring up at you every once in a while, always looking like she’s about to say something before choosing not to. 

You decide to throw her a bone. 

“I’m having dinner with Joel tonight.” You can’t ignore the surprised smile on her face. 

“I’m glad you two seem to be getting along.”

“Yeah, apparently he got caught up in his work for a few days.” You try and get a reaction out of her but she goes emotionless, giving you only a hum in response. 

You don’t try to start another conversation after that until you say good night at the end of your shift. Giving her a small wave before stepping into the misty evening air. 

You keep your eyes on the trees the entire walk home but nothing seems out of sorts and before you know it you’re safe in the camper.

You’re dressed and ready to go when the truck pulls up. You aren’t sure where exactly you’re supposed to be going but you’re ready nonetheless, deciding on just jeans and a plain tshirt. What you aren’t expecting is when Joel steps out of the truck with grocery bags and a grin plastered on his face.

“I thought we could cook together.” He says as he makes his way up the steps inside. 

“You know how to cook?” You try not to sound as surprised as you are but he just laughs. 

“I have two kids. I know how to cook.” He sets the bag on the counter and you open it, he’s brought bread, cheese, and cans of tomato soup. 

“What exactly do you plan on cooking?”

“Grilled cheese.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and any worries you had about tonight go out the window. 

“You really went all out for tonight.” You raise your eyebrows at him.

He nods, searching through the cabinets for a pan and a pot. 

“When you said cook together you meant you cook and I watch, right?” You lift yourself up onto the counter as he lights the stove. 

“Obviously.” He sets everything down and you watch him fish around the top of the fridge for a few seconds before pulling down a rather dusty old radio. “I knew she had one somewhere.” He grins as he sets it down beside you, plugging it in and fidgeting with the knobs until the static turns into music. 

You don’t recognize the song that plays but he does, as he hums along, opening the two cans, emptying them into the pot. 

You had been so nervous about tonight, nightmares aside, you had expected a totally different Joel, the kind of person who ignores you for a week and expects immediate forgiveness. But instead he continues to be just Joel. Joel, who’s very presence lulls you into an overpowering sense of comfort. The moment he stepped inside the camper the entire space became heavy with his cologne, everything smells like the forest, as if you’re surrounded by pine trees and not the four walls around you. 

“We should do something this week.” He turns to you as he butters the bread, setting it in the pan with a quiet sizzle. 

“Don’t you have work, and Ellie?” You tear open the plastic wrapper on the cheese, handing him a few slices. 

“I do, but I can get Tommy to watch her for a night.” He tosses them down onto the bread before opening a drawer, riffling around until he finds a spatula. 

You hum along to the music with him when the song changes to something familiar, watching him cook. 

He looks at home with you, like he belongs right here. 

You both laugh your way through dinner, it’s outrageous how charming he can be, he tells you about the house he’s building, and how his brother ordered the wrong kind of cement. (You didn’t know there was a wrong kind.) And he tells you about how Ellie’s picked up some curse words, apparently there’s quite an argument happening between the Millers regarding who she learned them from. 

You’ve always been hesitant to talk about work, especially on dates because you never know how people are going to react. Not everyone has the same relationship with death that you have. So when he says, how has working for Maria been? You aren’t exactly sure what to say. 

“It’s good.” 

“That’s it? It’s good?” He looks up at you, giving you that lopsided fucking smirk and you can’t help but just melt at the sight of it. 

“We’ve been… busy, lots of work the last few days, now we’re just funeral planning, this week we’ve got a funeral pretty much everyday, Maria’s swamped.” 

“What made you choose this line of work?”

You never really know how to answer that question. 

“Because I like to play with dead things.” Never gets the laugh you hope for, and the real answer just makes you sad.  

“I like to fix things.” You instinctively break eye contact, staring down at an uneven floor board you’d never noticed before under the table. “I like knowing that I can help people in that way, to fix them one last time.” 

For a moment he doesn’t speak, when you look back up at him he simply looks at you with something that resembles yearning. 

“That’s nice.” 

You’re glad he thinks so. 

He takes the dishes, rinsing them in the sink despite your protests. 

Your palms are getting clammy. 

This is, by his count, your third date. 

Is it weird that this feels scheduled? It was different when you’d brought him home after your first date, that felt natural, your body innately wanted to be with him. How do you even start this kind of thing when it feels so planned? You both know what you want but it feels strange to just outright say, so is this the part where we have sex? 

He dries his hands on his jeans and clears his throat as he turns back to you, holding his hand out, you aren’t really sure what he’s doing until he pulls you up from your seat, wrapping his other arm around your waist.

It isn’t the kind of song you can slow dance to, it’s fast and upbeat.

But as far as you can tell, Joel isn’t the kind of guy who dances in the first place, so you bring your free hand up to his shoulder and join him in his attempts to dance. 

I heat up, I can't cool down

You got me spinning

There isn’t a lot of floor space in the camper but he makes it work by holding you close and mostly just spinning you as he nods along to the music.

'Round and 'round

'Round and 'round and 'round it goes

If his goal was to put you at ease then it’s working, any remaining nerves you have fizzled out completely. You laugh in earnest, not out of fear, as he bumps his nose against yours. 

Where it stops nobody knows

Every time you call my name

I heat up like a burning flame

Burning flame full of desire

Kiss me baby, let the fire get higher

He keeps his forehead flush with yours as you continue to sway your hips back and forth to the beat, the both of you laughing and spinning, you watch curiously as he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. 

Abra abracadabra

I wanna reach out and grab ya

Abra abracadabra

Abracadabra

With a satisfied sigh he opens his eyes, his gaze going from simple infatuation to something darker. When the song ends he pulls you close, so you’re chest to chest and reaches over, turning down the radio. 

“So…” You can’t stop smiling as you stare at him through your lashes. 

“So.” He gently guides you, his hands on your hips as he walks you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed. 

“I’ve got a long day tomorrow, I should probably get some sleep.” You give him an exaggerated yawn and point at the bed, plastering a mock apologetic look on your face. 

“You’re really funny.” He leans down to give you a chaste kiss before picking you up. His strength is still a wonder to you. 

The way he throws you down onto your bed makes you erupt into a fit of giggles but he certainly isn’t laughing anymore as he drags you by your ankles to the edge of the mattress, a look of concentration on his face now. 

“Joel!” You shriek as you hear the tearing of the zipper on your jeans. 

“M’sorry.” He grumbles, making no effort to slow down as he tugs them down. 

He doesn’t sound sorry.

“It’s a zipper, just unzip it for Christ's sake.” His sudden change in demeanor leaves you a little breathless, in the blink of an eye he’s gone from remarkably gentle to practically unhinged.

“S’too late for that.” He groans softly as he kneels on the camper floor, throwing your legs over his shoulders. 

“You owe me a new pair-” Your voice trails off into a stuttered moan as his mouth latches onto the front of your panties, dragging his tongue over the wet spot that’s been forming all night. 

“We can go to the mall sometime this week.” He mumbles against your cunt before you feel his teeth grazing the fabric before tearing it apart completely. 

“Jesus, Joel!” Instinctively your hands grip his hair as he buries his face between your legs. 

How sharp are his teeth? 

He’s all consuming. Like he’s trying to lay claim to every single part of you. And he’s loud, it’s a good thing you don’t have neighbors. Lewd slurping noises as he laps at your dripping hole like it’s his fucking job. 

He flattens his tongue, dragging it through your folds, for a moment you aren’t sure what he’s doing, but it feels fucking amazing. The way his tongue moves in and out of you, occasionally drawing a lazy circle around your clit, it isn’t like anything anyones ever done before. It takes you a moment to realize that he isn’t necessarily trying to make you feel good (despite the effect it may be having on you,) you’re pretty sure he’s tasting you. 

Drinking you in. If he’s trying to get you off it’s only because he wants more. 

“S’ so sweet.” He mumbles against your thigh, biting the meat there making you cry out a bit before he returns to his work between your legs. 

“Joel- fuck, Joel please.” You manage to stutter out between gasps, when did he become so gruff? You never could have predicted that he would be like this in bed, his grip on you is certain to leave bruises and you can barely think straight after just a few minutes with his head between your thighs. The noises he makes as his lips wrap around your clit are down right pornagraphic. Your vision is starting to go white around the edges as he does the first gentle thing since he started, sucking that bundle of nerves almost lazily. Through shuttered breaths you manage to mumble out his name a few more times your vision whites out completely. 

You’re a little surprised at how quickly he manages to pull an orgasm from you, your skin coated in a thin sheen of sweat as you sit up, pulling him up by his hair as you crash your lips against his, tasting your own slick on his tongue. He moves so feverishly as you feel his hands spreading you again, teasing your entrance with two fingers before slowly pushing them in. 

“Joel- oh my god-” He silences your rambling with his mouth again, swallowing your groan once he’s knuckle deep inside you. His brows furrow in concentration as he starts to pump them in and out of you. “P-please.” You stammer out. 

It’s such a sharp contrast to the Joel you’re used to, he’s so… unruly. 

“So fucking tight.” He mutters before grinding his palm against your clit, pulling another series of gasps from your throat. “Such a pretty, tight, wet cunt.” He whispers against your jaw and you feel a third finger pushing into you. 

You hadn’t expected him to be so vulgar, turns out he’s only all southern manners outside of the bedroom. You’re starting to see stars all over again as you feel the stretch of his thick fingers, he nips at your jaw before pressing them in deep, focusing on grinding the heel of his palm into your clit until you’re soaking his hand, hands tugging at his hair as a second orgasm is ripped out of you with a shudder. Your head falls back with a noisy whine, you can’t decide if you want more or less, his touch burns your skin but you feel so cold without it.  

“Please, please Joel.” You exhale the words, scratching lightly at his shoulders with a whine. 

“Tell me what you want.” His voice is lower than ever and you watch as he unzips his jeans, shoving them off and taking his cock in between his fingers, still slick with your release. Your eyes go wide as he strokes himself a few times, he’s thick, hefty, you’re trying not to stare slack-jawed at the way he fills his own hand.  You grab the bottom of his shirt, pulling it off in an attempt to feel more of his skin against you.

“Fuck me… please.” You tack on the please at the end hoping he doesn’t make you wait much longer as you gawk at his pretty tan skin. You don’t even know where to look, you run your fingers through the coarse sprinkle of black and gray hair on his chest as he crawls further up the bed to hover above you.

He takes your thighs, pushing them up against your stomach, his eyes dark with something reminiscent of hunger. You hook your own arms around your knees to keep yourself in that position as he takes hold of his cock once more, guiding himself into you with a strangled groan.

“Christ…” He mumbles under his breath as he slides just the tip of himself in, your own breath hitching at the size of him. He tilts head town, pressing a soft kiss to your chin. 

He splays his palms out on your thighs, leveraging himself as he carefully rocks his hips back and forth, slowly working himself into you. The camper fills with the sounds of your collective noises. Joel is loud. Grunting and growling as he fully buries himself in your heat. 

He scans your face for signs of distress, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, the tiniest sting from the stretch pulls a whine out of you but you only nod as he stares into your eyes. 

“More, Joel.”

Once he has your approval he starts moving, setting a pace that for a few thrusts is slow before picking up. Quickly becoming downright brutal, every slam of his pelvis against yours drives his cock deeper into you. He feels as if he was made for this, he’s just big enough that it doesn’t hurt, simply an overwhelming feeling of fullness. 

Your body begins to tense up all over again, you wrap your arms around his torso as much as you can in this position, scratching at his back. He leans forward, going in for a kiss before moving around your face, kissing your jaw, forehead, nose, and temples. When he kisses the apples of your cheeks you feel his tongue darting out. 

Did he just lick up a tear? 

He snaps his hips forward, disrupting your train of thought, his teeth barred as he does so, eyes fixed on every one of your reactions. He’s practically snarling as you let your head fall back against the mattress, the head of his cock driving into your g-spot.

“Wanna come again already, bunny?” You make a real spectacle of yourself, hooking your legs around his waist, trying to pull him in deeper. “Greedy little thing…”

“Joel please-”

“Joel please.” He mocks. “Is that all you can say now?” You keen softly but he only grins as you tighten around him. 

“P-please…” You squeak out as he snaps hips forward once more. 

“Come again, I wanna feel this pretty cunt come.” He snarls against your neck, leaving a trail of bites until he reaches your shoulder, a particularly harsh bite has you crying out.

“Joel!” You grit your teeth, a wave of heat washes over you as you come one last time, you feel his tongue dragging across the bite mark. 

It’s all so close to being painful.

Your stomach aches from the overstimulation, and you register a faint stinging feeling when he laps at the bite. Your walls clench around him, strangling his cock, and his hands instantly leave your legs, gripping the sheets instead.  

“Fuck, fuck.” He barely pulls out in time, coming on your stomach. You reach down in your haze, scooping some of his load onto your finger before sliding them between your lips. 

Fucking salted caramel. 

Sweet and sticky on your tongue. 

He pants above you, watching with an intoxicated look as you dip your fingers into his cum over and over again until your stomach is bare.

He nudges his nose against yours, rubbing every part of his face against you for a few minutes. It’s wildly intimate and you're once again a little taken aback by his sudden tone shift. 

“Was that okay?” He drawls, once again searching your face for any indication that you might not be. 

You nod, beaming up at him and letting him rest the bridge of his nose on yours for a few moments more before you slip out of his arms, stepping into the bathroom. You relieve yourself before going to sort yourself out in the mirror. 

You’re bleeding. 

Where he bit you, two mirroring crescents, red and angry on your shoulder, leaking blood. 

“Shit.” You grab a handful of toilet paper, wiping it clean before rinsing it in the sink and returning to him.  

“Everything okay?” He’s pulled his boxers on, tossing you his shirt which you’re eager to put on. You don’t want him to see the bite. 

“Everything’s fine.” You crawl back up into the bed beside him. 

He stays the night, pulling you to his chest and caging you in with his arms. 

And you aren’t haunted by dreams. 

In the morning a part of you worries he’ll disappear all over again, you’re a little surprised when he texts you just a few minutes after he drives off.  [ can’t wait to see you again soon bunny ]

Joel follows through on his promise. 

A few days later he picks you up from work and drives you to the outlet mall about an hour away, saying he needs to get some stuff for Ellie as well. Apparently she likes to throw plates so he wants to find the kind that suction onto the table. As he drives the radio plays a country song you don’t recognize which he hums along to as you watch the trees outside the window. 

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you about my aunt.” He turns the music down once you start speaking. 

“Darlene? You probably know her better than I do.” He doesn’t seem very eager to talk about her but it only makes you want to know more. 

“Doubt it. All I know about her is that she wasn’t close with anyone in my family.”

“You weren’t close? But she left you her camper.”

“That’s why I need to know anything you might know about her, I know nothing.” He seems hesitant and you’re worried if you keep pushing it he won’t tell you anything at all. 

“She was a lonely old woman, had me fix things for her often, I honestly think she just wanted company.” His voice softens a bit as he says it. 

“She didn’t have friends here in Honey?” 

“Not that I know of, she was a bit of a shut in, sweetest woman I’ve ever met, just a bit… skittish. She worked from home and I’m pretty sure someone delivered her groceries. The only time I ever saw her outside was when I was fixing her roof and she sat in a lawn chair to talk to me while I did.” 

“She worked from home?” 

“Yeah, something on her laptop, I’m not entirely sure.” You’ve never seen a laptop. 

You’ve been living in the camper for nearly six months and you’ve never seen a laptop. 

But that’s not what interests you the most right now. 

“What do you mean by skittish?” You’re trying to gauge his reaction but he doesn’t seem to have one. 

“Maybe skittish isn’t the right word. Eccentric? Some of the kids in town called her ditzy Darlene.” His expression sours as he says it. 

“That’s horrible.”

“It was.”

“Why?” He seems more reluctant than ever but now you’re just upset on behalf of the woman who left you everything.

“She fed into a lot of the legends around town, and didn't seem to have any hobbies outside of monster hunting.”

“Monster hunting?”

“She was the only local who went to the gift shops, searching for a monster she swears she saw.”

Sounds familiar.

“Did she ever find any?” 

“Monsters?” He laughs. “Not that I know of.”

“Did you think she was crazy?”

“I think she was lonely, and I think when you spend that much time alone your mind can wander.”

“But did you think she was crazy?” 

“No.” He puts an end to the conversation by putting the truck in park. You hadn’t even realized you were there, the outlet mall is so small. His southern manners remain persistent as he jogs around the truck to open your door for you, holding onto you to provide balance as you hop out.

You aren’t sure where anything is so you just follow him, taking his hand in yours as you walk. He takes you into a clothing store you don’t recognize the name of and waits patiently as you try on a few different pairs of jeans. It’s been quite some time since you’ve bought new clothes so you get a few pairs, you’re worried it’s boring for him to just wait outside the changing room but when you walk out with three pairs slung over your arm he still looks happy as can be. When you go to pay he opens his wallet, silencing your protests with a reminder that it’s his fault you needed new jeans in the first place. 

After that he takes his time, the two of you walk hand in hand through each store, he doesn’t even look around most of them, seemingly content with just spending time with you. 

He manages to find a few rubber bowls with suction cup bottoms for Ellie as well as some spanish flashcards and you decide to get a pair of blue hiking boots, if you’re gonna be walking everywhere you might as well be comfortable. 

At the last store you stop at you find a nice perfume, spraying a bit into the air and inhaling. It reminds you of springtime, it’s light, floral, but when Joel catches a whiff of it he scrunches his nose up. 

“You don’t like it?” You set the bottle back down. 

“I like the way you smell now.” You frown, trying to remember what shampoo and body wash you’ve been using. If you recall correctly it’s just some generic brand you’d bought ages ago. 

“I didn’t know you spoke spanish?” You remark, pointing at the bag containing the cards, opting to just change the subject rather than give yourself a headache trying to remember. 

“I don’t, but Sarah does and she’s been insisting I teach Ellie while she’s gone, something about it being better if she’s bilingual.”

“I think that’s sweet.” You swing your arms a bit, keeping his hand in yours as he walks you out of the store and in the direction of the truck. 

“Of course you think it’s sweet, you're not the one with two daughters who will be using their secret language against you.” He takes his keys from his pocket, clicking the unlock button. 

“It’s not a secret language, if your baby can learn it then I’m sure you can.” He helps you up into the truck once more, shutting the door behind you.

It’s almost comically difficult to keep your hands off him when you’re alone, especially now that you have a taste for him. Even just being in the truck with the windows up is suffocating, the smell of his aftershave or his laundry detergent drives you mad the moment you’re stuck in an enclosed space with him. 

You slide across the truck so you’re in the middle seat as he pulls out of the parking lot. It’s like you feel sick when you aren’t touching him, like you’re suffering from this barely noticeable nausea and you don’t realize you were even dealing with it until it’s gone. 

You watch curiously as he keeps one hand on the wheel and brings the other to rest on your thigh. His shoulders relax the moment he does, his frown lines smooth themselves out a bit. 

He’s just so warm, and he’s so nice to be near. Today he smells like a candle you used to have, something you lit around Christmas time. He smells like cookies and peppermint. 

You can’t help but turn your head a bit, trying to discreetly inhale the scent of his jacket.

To say that Joel Miller becomes the perfect boyfriend would be an understatement. 

He drives you to work, he sends you flowers, (which gets confusing in a funeral home.) he holds open doors, and he always texts you back. 

Quite literally everything gets better once he’s back in your life. 

You don’t get anymore mangled bodies, only a few from the nursing home and one from a nearby hospital, it’s mostly just funeral planning these days. You see Joel daily, Maria and Tommy seem a little surprised every time he dotes on you and you can’t help but wonder what he’s done to earn such a reaction, but he’s so sweet you hardly care. Between both of you working and him having a toddler you’re shocked he makes as much time for you as he does. You see him every morning when he takes you into work but he also insists on seeing you twice a week, whether it’s going out, or ordering in, or just dragging him into your bed, he always makes time for you. 

You even spend a little time with Ellie. Joel spends a lot of time with her at the funeral home so you often see her in little doses, she seems indifferent towards you which worries you until you realize she acts that way towards everyone but her father. It’s remarkable to watch him with her, he’s soft with you but with her it’s something else entirely. She sticks to him like glue and you’ve never once seen him look bothered by that fact, you assume she’d get bored just sitting in his arms but she never does. He likes to tell her jokes and you aren’t even sure she understands them but without fail she bursts into a fit of giggles every time he gets to the punchline. 

It’s good with him, everything is easier. Everything just sort of makes sense with Joel and for the first time in a long time everything feels right. 

Until the morning you wake up, a sticky feeling between your legs and an ache in your belly.

“Shit.” You roll out of bed, quickly shedding your clothes, tossing them into the laundry bin before texting Joel.

[ hot date idea for us, you drive me to the laundromat and then watch me do my laundry ] 

Setting your phone down you hop into the shower, washing away the blood with a groan, you spend far too long under the water, when you finally step out and check your phone you’re running late, you pull open the curtains a bit to see if Joel’s already waiting for you but much to your confusion you aren’t met with the familiar sight of the truck.

You had never really discussed him driving you to work; it was just something he’d started doing, you probably shouldn’t have expected it to be a permanent thing. 

You haphazardly pull yourself together, tossing on whatever looks clean before grabbing your phone and bag, rushing out the door. 

The cool morning air stings your face as you quickly walk down the familiar gravel driveway towards the home, you’re already preparing your excuse for why you’re so late but Maria doesn’t even notice as you step into the office, she’s busy on a call.

You recognize the look on her face, she’s talking to a family. You step inside, taking a seat in one of the chairs across from her desk as you wait. She seems to be at the end of the conversation. 

You couldn’t be more grateful that she takes care of telling the families. You’ve never been good at that kind of thing. She hangs up with a gentle, goodbye, smiling up at you as you try and imagine a situation in which your job was to deliver such terrible news. 

The ache in your stomach snaps you back to reality. 

Fuck. You forgot to bring anything.

“Any chance you have a pad?” You give her an apologetic look.

Based on her expression you’d think you’d just asked her for a lung. Several emotions flash across her face in an instant, but mostly she looks like someone who just solved a riddle that had been plaguing them for quite some time. She snaps out of it quickly though, giving you a curt nod. 

“Of course, let me just run upstairs.”

It’s an older man, graying and wearing what is obviously hiking gear.

Poor guy. 

He’s torn apart, the worst you’ve seen so far, his limbs have all been individually torn off, they lay, separated from the rest of him on the table. 

It’s an open casket so you’re gonna be down here all day. 

You text Joel one last time before setting your phone down. 

[ gonna be pretty busy all day, got another bear attack, i’ll call you when i’m on my way home. ] 

With that you get to work, putting on your gown and gloves, and starting at the torn clothes. It’s hard to figure out where his clothes start and his skin ends with the condition his body is in but you manage to cut him out of everything so you can properly assess the damage. 

You’re getting used to seeing these messy wounds, the sight of torn flesh. It should be a pretty easy job all things considered. He’ll be in a suit so you’ll just reattach everything and no one will ever have to see the extent of his wounds. 

You check everything twice, making sure that you’ve got the left and right correct before you start sewing things back up. You try to mimic the way you saw Maria do it, careful and practiced stitches.

You finish the legs easily enough, both had been ripped off just above the knee, you’re about to start on the arms when you drop the needle in surprise. 

How didn’t you realize this before? 

You’ve been preparing these bodies for weeks now and you’ve never once noticed one harrowing detail. You’re used to tending to bodies that have already seen a pathologist. Bodies with their organs in a bag, with their blood drained, ready to be prepared for a funeral or cremation. And you’ve been so focused on doing a good job to impress Maria that you’ve failed to take note of the most obvious thing before you. 

There’s no blood. 

None of the bodies you’ve tended to from the bear attacks have blood, all of their organs remain intact but because Maria declares cause of death you know she doesn’t drain them. You’ve drained everyone who hasn’t been sent in from a bear attack. 

Maybe Maria drained them before you got in.

But that isn’t possible, you know that, you’d have seen the equipment, and you’ve gotten bodies straight from the scene, already drained. 

You reach over to grab a scalpel off the table. 

You shouldn’t do this. You could probably be fired for it, but as long as no one finds out you’ll be fine. All the damage to this cadaver has been done to its limbs, so hypothetically, if you were to slice open his chest you would see blood, dried or otherwise. 

So you do just that. 

You carve out a small, clean, incision vertically on his sternum. 

Nothing. 

You’ve got a pen flashlight that you shine into his chest cavity only to find his organs. Dry. 

He’s been completely drained of his blood. 

You stitch him up quickly, finishing the job as swiftly as possible before running up the stairs, mumbling a rushed excuse to Maria before running the entire way home. 

Joel doesn’t text you back. 

This isn’t happening, not again, he wouldn’t do this again. 

You feel like you’re gonna be sick. 

An image flashes through your mind. 

Joel.

Lips curled back in a snarl. 

No. That wasn’t real, it was just a dream. Although the line between the two has been getting blurrier. 

Joel isn’t out there draining people of their blood, that’s absurd, even if he goes missing and those dates happen to coincide with the days that you get bloodless corpses. 

It’s a coincidence. 

Or it isn’t. 

Maybe for one second you should just let yourself consider the possibility that something is terribly wrong. 

You thoroughly check the two bodies you get the next day. 

They come in together, a couple from out of state hiking in the park. Neither one of them bleeds. 

The day after that you wake up early and walk to the funeral home as the sun rises. You watch the hearse wheel in the body, and you make sure you’re the first person to see her. 

A tragically beautiful woman who appears to be in her late forties, maybe early fifties. 

None of her wounds are bloody, and when you open her chest cavity it’s like someone drank her insides with a straw. 

You’re nearly at your breaking point, nothing you’re looking at makes any sense. 

You spend that night in bed, unable to sleep as you try and figure out what the hell is going on. 

Joel doesn’t answer your calls. 

He doesn’t respond to your several angry texts. 

And something deep down within you tells you that asking Maria would be a mistake. 

You’re completely alone on this. 

So you call Maria and you tell her that you’re sick and won’t be in tomorrow. Then you look up the bus schedule in and out of town.

The bus comes in and out of Honey twice, every other day. Lucky for you, today is one of the days the bus will be there in the morning, and return in the evening. 

The bus stop is empty when you arrive, the misty morning air clings to your skin as you stare out into the surrounding forest. 

Something is out there. 

And you’re gonna find out what it is.

You can’t keep being afraid, this is your home now, and you won’t be driven away by some imaginary monster. 

It starts to drizzle when you look out the window of the bus, watching Honey disappear behind you. 

You have a plan. 

Well sort of. 

You’re going to find some literature on the subject. You’re sick of feeling crazy so you’re going to prove yourself right. Something is very wrong in Honey, and monster or not, you’re going to figure it out. 

You don’t catch the name of the town you end up in, you just get off at the stop that looks the most tourist friendly, assuming that there has to be a book store somewhere in town. 

You only have to walk main street for a few minutes before you find it. 

It’s a quaint little shop tucked in between an attorney's office and a gift shop. 

Betty’s Books

Dimly lit and jam packed wall to wall with books, a small elderly woman sits behind the counter, reading a Stephen King novel. 

“Excuse me?” You clear your throat as she looks up at you over her wiry glasses. 

“How can I help you?” Her smile is warm, it fills the entire shop with an aura of comfort. 

You’re going to sound ridiculous. And the moment you do this you’ll be speaking it into existence. 

You don’t have any other options. 

“Do you have anything on local urban legends?” You try not to sound too ashamed but her smile never falters as she points. 

“Back left corner, dear.” 

“Thank you.”

“Let me know if you need anything else.” She’s already buried her nose back in her book before you turn towards the rest of the shop. 

You begin searching the shelves for anything that could possibly help you, there’s several different books on bigfoot and the loch ness monster. There are a lot of empty spaces between books and you have to assume that this is what most tourists are buying. 

People in search of ghosts and myths. 

Are you any better than them? 

Running out into the darkness, looking for a monster you very well may have made up. 

You look through a few more options before finally settling on a thick, leather bound book, you pull it from its place and stare down at the embossed cover. 

A Beginners Guide to Cryptozoology : West Virginian Monsters 

You aren’t going to find a better place to start. 

You move back towards the front, stopping in front of the children's section.

Lullabies & Poems for Bedtime 

A rabbit with a pocket watch, asleep under a tree, adorns the cover. 

Ellie might like that. 

Even if you’re madder than hell at her father. 

You grab the little white book, setting both onto the counter, paying before stepping out into the rain. You’ve got hours until the bus back to Honey returns so you quickly make your way to a diner across the street, keeping the books tucked into your jacket. 

A little bell chimes as you push the door open, sitting yourself at one of the free booths you set the books down on the table. 

The waitress brings you coffee and water as you set your jacket aside, you order a plate of fries just to give you something to do as you watch the rain on the diner windows for a bit. 

Eventually you know you can’t put it off anymore so you open up the book and sit back, taking care to read every single page, not wanting to miss a thing. 

The first thing you learn is that there are a startling number of unnamed monsters. 

It covers the basics in the first few chapters, mothman, bigfoot, chupacabra, and werewolves, but the second half of the book is entirely monsters with no names, only ink drawing accompanying the descriptions. For a while you find nothing, eventually ordering a milkshake which you sip as you skim the pages.

After two hours you’re about to give up when you stumble across a page that finally shows something familiar. 

A drawing of a body, mangled, with wounds you recognize. 

Five slashes across the chest, both arms completely torn off. 

This creature is thought to reside only in heavily wooded areas, it was speculated to be located in the southern United States for several decades before disappearing completely. 

Since then people have claimed to have seen this creature in many different locations although the majority seem to be centralized to the east coast of North America, resembling a lich, or a wendigo. 

When you turn the page the illustration of the monster stares back at you. 

It’s hard to make out what’s what and it looks mostly like inky scribbles but within those lines you see the creature you’ve been imagining. Long, sharp limbs, massive shoulders, and a face almost reminiscent of a humans, everything is just… distorted. 

While technically unnamed, there are many unique pieces of folklore attached to this specific creature. Witnesses claim to have seen this monster transform from human to creature and vice versa, as if they walk among us in their free time. 

What sets the creature apart from many other creatures of this variety is their affinity for humans. More often than not we’ve gotten reports of these creatures seeking out human mates.

We have several different claims from people saying they’ve seen the transformation happen right before their very eyes. One man claimed to have watched his sister in law turn at Thanksgiving dinner. Another says that he saw a cousin's boyfriend disappear into the woods during a wedding, transforming into a beast as he did. 

According to old legends there is thought to be a connection between these creatures and their mates, quite literally bonding them in blood. The males are believed to be linked to their human mates menstrual cycles; if they have one, the females are linked to their own. There are many different descriptions of what this means for human mates. Some believe that when this creature comes in contact with their mate that they permanently revert to their human forms. Others believe they’re hunger for flesh only grows after coming in contact with them.

But most believe that they eat their mate. Plain and simple. That their blood is more potent to them than anyone else’s, so much so that any love they may harbor for them is irrelevant, they are simply blinded by their bloodlust. 

Its victims often resemble that of an animal attack. Bodies torn apart, mangled, often believers of this legend are ‘disproven’ because of this fact, but there is always one thing that separates this creature's kills from that of an animal. Animals who eat their victims will do exactly that, eat them, this creature does no such thing, while it does massacre its victims it will rarely consume its flesh, preferring the taste of blood. 

There have been no confirmed sightings of these creatures and we have been unable to trace its origins or obtain any photographic evidence, maybe it really is just an animal. 

Monster or bear? It’s up to you.

It’s up to you. 

You slam the book shut.

It’s nonsense. 

Joel isn’t some blood drinking, period monster. But you came all this way, looking for a monster, and seemingly you’ve found it. 

You pick up the little book for Ellie, taking a sip of your coffee. 

Maybe it’ll make you feel better. 

You open it to find a familiar little song on the inside of the cover.

I know you,

I walked with you once upon a dream. 

You flip through it, mostly admiring the beautiful illustrations, they look like watercolors. There’s a frog with a crown, princesses with flowing gowns and witches grinning up at you from the pages. It isn’t until some random page in the middle that you actually stop to read the poem. The drawing accompanying this one isn’t colorful, only black ink, a drastic change from everything so far. 

Jabberwocky

By: Lewis Carroll 

It unsettles you to look at so you focus on the words instead. You know this creature, it’s from Alice in Wonderland. The poem is whimsical, you can imagine a child finding it rather entertaining should a parent read it with enthusiasm. You don’t have a parent reading it to you though, you’re alone, staring at the lines that have caught your eye. 

Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

No more books today. 

When you check your phone there are no new notifications. So Joel is either a terrible boyfriend or a potential murderer. 

How comforting. 

Fuck it. 

You click on his contact.

[ TEXT ME BACK RIGHT NOW. OR WE’RE THROUGH. ] 

Monsters aren’t real. 

Joel Miller is just the worst boyfriend (soon to be ex-boyfriend) on the planet. 

It doesn’t help that you catch a glimpse of a tampon wrapper in your bag when you throw your phone back into it. 

It’s a coincidence. 

You can’t say anything to anyone about this, how would it look if ditzy Darlene’s niece showed up and started spinning stories of her own? You can’t do it, you know exactly what people would say. They’d say it ran in the family and they’d find a reason to be cruel to her even in death. 

So you take the bus home in silence. 

For the next few days barely speak to Maria other than polite greetings, you’re certain she doesn’t notice, both of you are swamped. You’ve got a body everyday the rest of the week and she’s up to her neck in paperwork. 

And Joel never texts.

Maria’s juggling Ellie and trying to fill out papers when you get in the next morning. 

“Thank god you’re here, can you run upstairs and grab something for me, there’s a little makeup bag on the counter in the bathroom, I forgot it earlier and I’m waiting on a phone call regarding the couple we had.” 

“Of course.” You set your things down before reaching for Ellie. “Here, let me take her so you can do that.”

“You’re a lifesaver, thank you.” Almost as if on cue the phone rings the moment she says it. You head towards the stairs, the toddler in your arms scrunches up her face as if trying to recall your identity. 

“You know me, silly, I’m friends with your daddy.” At the mention of her father she seems to relax and you open the door at the top of the stairs. 

You’ve never actually been in this part of the house before, you’ve always stayed in the business section. You don’t get a chance to look around, the bathroom is the first door on your left. A bag the size of a pencil box is on the counter, you hand it to Ellie, her little hands play with the bag as you carefully bounce her in your arms. 

“Do you know where your daddy is?” You poke her in the belly making her smile at you for the first time. “Not gonna snitch?” You tickle her side, earning a tiny giggle. You let her play with the zipper as you bring her back downstairs. “Any bodies today?” You yell as you descend the stairs. 

“Had a cremation from the home this morning, I’ve just got a lot of papers, I’m planning six funerals simultaneously right now.” 

Six massacred corpses in six days. 

“Where’s Tommy?” Ellie puts up a bit of a fight for the bag but you set it down on the desk just in time to watch Marias grip on her pen tighten. 

Yikes. Must be a sore spot right now. 

“He’s got a work thing, left me with that little monster.” She uses the pen to point at the toddler who’s already starting to get antsy in your arms. 

If you’ve got no bodies today you might as well offer to help.

“I can watch Ellie if you’d like.” 

“Really? You don’t mind?”

“Of course not, want me to keep her upstairs? I’m sure you don’t want me watching her in the basement.” You laugh a little as she nods. 

“You really are a lifesaver, I don’t know how I managed without you.” 

“Oh stop, you clearly did just fine before I came along.” Your face gets a bit hot at the compliment. 

“I’ll be up in a few hours once I finish up here, you two have fun.” She doesn’t give any instruction beyond that so you just take Ellie back upstairs. You haven’t spent much time with her beyond the small interactions in passing but you know she doesn’t like doing nothing unless it’s with Joel. She’s trying to get out of your arms the second you’re at the top of the stairs. You set her down in the entryway and she’s already running into the kitchen. 

You don’t want to snoop but you actually get to take a good look around as Ellie settles in front of a pile of notebooks and a mess of crayons on the kitchen floor. It’s a pretty open floor plan, the kitchen and living room are all one big room and from the looks of it they must watch Ellie often, an outsider would assume they have a child of their own. A play pen is set up on the floor of the living room and toys are scattered everywhere. 

“Are you hungry, sweetie? Do you want something to eat?” There’s different snacks on the counter as you walk over to where she’s playing. 

“Yes please.” Her voice is clear and high pitched, you’re actually a little surprised, you didn’t even know she could talk, she’s always silent when you’re around. There’s an assortment of different things on the counter so you just find something that’s already open. Handing her a little container of apple puffs, she doesn’t look up from her drawings, just blindly reaching over and grabbing a handful as you sit at the counter to watch over her. 

She’s a very well behaved baby all things considered. 

You have to stop her from drawing on the walls a few times and at one point she stuffed a handful of food between the couch cushions but other than that she’s rather relaxed. She sits and draws mostly, only occasionally getting up and doing a few laps around the room before returning to her papers. 

At one point she makes her way to where you’re sitting, slapping your leg to get your attention until you pick her up, she points to the window above the sink and when you take her there she simply stares out at the trees. 

She’s focused on the woods as you watch her expression, her face is oddly serious. 

After a few minutes you set her down, unease filling your body. She doesn’t seem to mind though as she runs back to her drawings, you return to the counter, checking your phone for a few minutes until she appears in your peripherals once more, tapping your leg again, handing you one of her drawings. 

At several different moments this week you’ve thought that you’ve reached your breaking point. 

None of those compare to how you feel when you pick up the paper Ellie had been scribbling on. 

It’s crude and mostly indiscernible but you know exactly what you’re looking at. 

A monster. 

A broad shouldered, sharp toothed, crayon monster. 

You stare at the little girl, trying to keep your composure as you pick her up, setting her in your lap and pointing at the mess of scribbles on the page. 

You feel crazier than ever, asking a toddler for help but no one else is around and you’re running out of options. 

“Can you tell me what that is, sweetie? What did you draw?” You hand her the drawing back which she crumples a bit in her fist before setting it on the counter, you point again at the creature. “Ellie, honey, can you tell me what this is please?” You’re doing your best to keep calm as she kicks her legs a bit before staring up at you with a frown. 

“Daddy?” For someone so small she speaks so loudly and clearly, but you just shake your head. 

“I know, honey, you want your daddy, I wish I knew where he was but you’re stuck with me today.” You smooth out her hair a bit as she scrunches up her face, looking rather upset. 

“Tío.” She points down at the drawing before looking back at you for approval, you just smile. You feel like an idiot. Asking a child for help. A child who can barely speak. 

“It’s okay, you’re too little to understand.” You hold her under one arm as you walk around the counter to the fridge. “How about I get you some juice.” 

You find a clean sippy cup, pouring her some apple juice before setting her back down, handing her the cup and searching through your bag. 

“I almost forgot, I got you a present.” She perks up immediately, setting her cup down as you hold the little white book out towards her.

“Thanks!” Her eyes light up as she takes it from you, it’s one of the few times you’ve seen her smile without her father being in the room, sitting on the floor before looking back up at you, tapping the spot next to her until you sit as well. 

“Do you want me to read it to you?” You watch as she sets it down in front of her, she’s surprisingly gentle as she flips open the cover. 

“No thank you.” She’s enraptured by the illustrations, not caring for the text, laying down on her stomach, and sitting up on her elbows as she slowly flips through the pages, her eyes wide as she points out everything she sees to you. You rub her back, nodding along, you’re mostly just happy that she’s excited. 

She kicks her feet as she explains the big red bird on the page to you. After a few more minutes of her babbling she turns the page again.

Jabberwocky 

She giggles wildly as she points at the page and suddenly you’re filled with dread all over again. She’s positively captivated by the drawing, refusing to turn to a different page when you urge her to move on.

You don’t speak again until Maria comes upstairs to check on her, when you do it’s to tell her you aren’t feeling well, and you’re going home.

You’re going on a monster hunt. 

There’s nothing left to do. You need to soothe your fears before you lose it completely and you aren’t going to stare at the trees and wonder for the rest of your life. 

You stop at one of the tourist traps in town, you need supplies for tonight. 

A camera. 

It’s an easy in and out stop. You buy a polaroid camera, and several packs of film. 

No one will believe you otherwise, you’ll be ridiculed the same way they did Darlene. You think of her as you walk back home, what if she was right about everything? She spent her life in fear of a monster no one believed in and they mocked her for it, and at the end of the day she might have been right. 

Maybe the monster is real and it isn’t Joel. 

Either way you’re going into the woods tonight. Your backpack is packed with the essentials, your water bottle, camera, an extra film pack, one of the knives from the kitchen (wrapped in a towel,) and a flashlight. 

Once you’re packed you put your boots and jacket on and head out. 

It’s like everything quiets down the moment you step outside. The forest hums, beckoning you in, and how could you refuse such an offer? 

You manage to keep your hands steady as you flip the switch on your flashlight, stepping into the trees. It feels so much colder now than it did when you were walking home. 

With dusk settling the sun is no longer there to keep you warm or to guide your way. You haven’t actually seen much of the forest, so you decide to walk in a straight line to avoid getting lost as you carefully step over a tangle of roots. As a child you loved nothing more than playing in the woods behind your house. But after just half an hour in these woods you suddenly resent the trees, they no longer bring you any comfort as you carry on into the cold dark night. You’re just about to give up and turn back around when suddenly something changes.  

Without warning and with seemingly no cause you feel a chill rush through your body, your hair standing on end. Your blood runs cold and you hear a sound you’re all too familiar with at this point. 

The tearing sound rips through the air. 

Your instincts tell you that you’ve become prey rather suddenly in this situation but you can’t turn back now, not when you can prove to yourself that you aren’t losing it. 

As quietly as possible you reach back into your pack, grabbing the camera already loaded with film and holding it in your free hand. The beam coming from your flashlight trembles slightly as you carry on towards the noise. 

It’s louder than it ever was in the dreams. In the dreams it was subdued, almost as if you subconsciously knew that it couldn’t hurt you. As you carry onward you can’t help but wonder if you’re just imagining it at this point. It doesn’t seem to get louder as you walk. It simply fills the air completely, you’re being directed purely by your instincts. You know it’s this way as you move forward a few more steps. 

You scan the trees with your light, seeing nothing out of the ordinary until you finally see it. Your finger instinctively flips off your flashlight. 

You almost didn’t catch it. 

But your legs keep moving and you get closer and closer to the hunched figure. 

It’s hard to describe, like your eyes don’t want to accept what you’re seeing. A voice in the back of your mind tells you that you’re getting too close but you can’t seem to stop yourself as you carry on until you can get a good look at it. 

You can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as you realize it isn’t Joel. But that relief only lasts a moment as you see what you’re actually dealing with. 

You aren’t sure how big it is. It’s big. That much is clear but it’s crouched down, it’s almost human, it may have once been human. You’re having trouble making out most of it in only the moonlight. It’s less broad than the illustrations you’ve seen, almost slim, with how close you are now you can see that it’s eating. 

A buck, one of the biggest ones you’ve ever seen is splayed out across some rocks. It’s stomach has been ripped open. You watch, with morbid fascination as it digs its maw deeper into the gore. 

How curious, it’s wearing clothes. Or at least the remains of some clothing, a bit of fabric clings to its crooked spine, it wears the tattered collar of a shirt like a necklace. Navy blue sweatpants stretch around the creature's waist, the fabric pulled taut, it looks like they make it just past its knees. The elastic around the ankles has snapped. 

The funniest part of all of this is that you feel nothing but fear for the creature. You aren’t disgusted and you certainly don’t hate it. You’re just afraid, so afraid that before you can slap your hand over your mouth you burst into a peal of laughter. 

Fuck. 

It all happens so fast, you aren’t ready in the slightest to be face to face with it and suddenly you are, purely on instinct your hand twitches and with the flash of the camera you get a single moment to stare at it. 

It’s so close to being human.

It’s mouth is too big, a blood soaked tongue falling past a row of jagged, pointed teeth. It’s almost like someone stretched out a person's face like it was made of clay. And it’s male. Intricate branching horns stretch out from under the hair crowning its head. 

“The doe’s don’t have antlers.”

Your dad was a hunter, you know your antlers,  you aren’t exactly sure but if it was a deer it would be a thirteen pointer. You should run, you’re about to but then you finally look it in the eye, just as the final remnants of the camera flash flicker out. 

There is something worse than hunger, or thirst, or rage in its eyes, if that was all there was you could scream or cry. But this leaves you frozen in place. 

Recognition. 

Like it knows you. 

And the moment it recognizes you it snarls, an ear-piercing sound that rips through the quiet of the forest, blood spewing from its maw at you, flecks of crimson tint your clothes and hands as your eyes go wide.

It’s a good thing your legs move faster than your brain, you’re already sprinting away from the creature. 

You lose your flashlight almost immediately but you know where you’re going, you couldn’t be more thankful for your decision to go in a straight line. You don’t stop moving, running blindly back the way you came, never once daring to look behind you. 

You know it’s there, you can hear it, and you can feel it. 

Its breath is hot on your heels, you can hear the branches splintering directly behind you. Everything is a blur, stray branches sting your exposed skin but you don’t stop, you can’t, your muscles ache as you push onward, keeping your hands out in front of you to guide you through the darkness until you finally see the road up ahead. 

You’re nearly there, almost feeling relief, almost. 

An icy hand wraps around your ankle, you’re yanked backwards before you can process what’s going on, your back dragging across the forest floor and in an instant you’re beneath it. 

This is it. 

You wanted a monster, you got one. And now you’re going to die for it. It snarls as its maw falls open, you’re face to face with a row of shimmering, gore smeared teeth. This is it. 

He smells like cinnamon. 

It tilts its head ninety degrees, its jaw closing in on your throat as you close your eyes, tears now flow freely down your face and finally you can’t contain your terror anymore. 

You scream. 

A trembling shriek falling from your lips and much to your confusion a killing blow never comes. After one more shuddering breath you open your eyes only to find you’re just staring up at the trees. You sit up, still out of breath. 

He’s a few feet away now. 

Thrashing around frantically as he stumbles backwards. As if your scream had upset him. He bellows, his twisted hands clutching his skull like he’s angry with himself. You cover your ears instinctively when it snarls in pain.

He can’t help it. 

You’re scrambling to your feet once more, giving him one final glance, you look into each other's eyes.

“Run.” 

It speaks. 

You break into a sprint once more, not daring to stop until your feet touch pavement. You don’t get the sense that you’re being followed anymore but you’re still in shambles. The adrenaline is slowly starting to fizzle out and you’re painfully aware of the wound you sustained during that encounter. Your ankle is torn up, two deep gashes from where it grabbed you are bleeding an alarming amount. You stumble, the sight of it making you nauseous. 

You get a moment's respite and you manage to compose yourself enough to retrieve your phone from your pocket. Walking backwards, keeping your eyes on the forest as you slowly continue to back away. In your desperation your blood stained fingertips frantically swipe across your phone screen, you don’t realize until it’s too late that you’re calling the only person who isn’t going to answer. 

Yet when you bring the phone to your ear you hear a click. 

“Joel?” You can’t fucking believe it. He actually picked up. 

“Sweetheart? Are you okay?” He can definitely hear the panic in your voice. 

You just break down.

“I’m by the road, on the way from Maria’s to my camper, I- I need you to come get me, please, it’s- it’s following me, but I think I lost it please, Joel.” You’re in hysterics as you catch a glimpse of one of the few streetlights down the road. You hear the sound of keys and you swear you hear Maria saying something in the background but you’re too frenzied to focus on that. 

“Who’s following you? Stay right there m’on my way.” You can hear the truck starting in the background as you keep running, not daring to stop even though it doesn’t feel like you’re being pursued anymore. 

“The monster… in the woods… it’s not a bear Joel.” You’re out of breath when you finally stop, standing in the middle of the road underneath the street lamp, spinning around to try and somehow keep an eye on all of the darkness around you. 

“Stay where you are, I’ll be there in two minutes, okay? Stay right where you are.” You’re about to beg him to hurry when the line goes dead. 

You must look like a mad woman. Standing in the middle of the street, covered in blood, and spinning in circles to try and keep an eye on every single direction as you listen for any signs of movement. 

Your heartbeat never slows, you can hear it pounding in the crushing silence that surrounds you. 

It only takes a few minutes before you see headlights approaching in the distance. You don’t even let the truck come to a full stop as you open the door and jump in, closing it behind you as you scramble towards Joel as if he could protect you from the goliath you saw in the darkness. 

“Drive! Now Joel, go!” You yell as he accelerates just to the point of following the speed limit as he heads towards your camper. 

“Bunny, please, calm down.” He wraps the hand that isn’t on the steering wheel around you but you shove him off, sliding back to the other side of the truck. 

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Joel, not after what I just went through, I saw it, a real monster grabbed me.” You’re stumbling over your words, trying to get them out as quickly as possible.

“Slow down, just tell me what happened.”

“I told you on the phone, I just found a fucking monster, Joel, that’s what happened.”

He’s gone silent now.

He probably thinks you’re crazy. 

That’s fine. You know you aren’t, you saw it, watched it feed. There’s deer blood on your boots. 

“You didn’t see a monster.” When you look he’s shaking worse than you are. You don’t dare turn your head further but you watch in your peripheral as he grips the steering wheel, his knuckles going white. 

He’s lying. 

Why would he lie? 

“I did, I took a-.” You reach into your bag and your stomach fills with dread as you realize you dropped the camera. 

“You didn’t. You’ve been spending too much time alone, and you shouldn’t be going out in the woods by yourself to begin with.” 

“And who’s fault is it that I’ve been alone?” You snap.

He doesn’t have a response to that. And you don’t have anything else to say, not like he’d believe you if you did. You should probably break up with him, for several reasons. 

Except you can’t. 

If you do, how will you stop people from being needlessly murdered? He may not be the monster, but he knows something, and you need to find out what it is. 

So you’ll ‘forgive’ him. Again. Because you need to get to the bottom of this.

And maybe, despite it all, you’re still terribly attached to him. He keeps disappearing, without warning and with halfhearted excuses as to why and all you can think about right now is how badly you missed him, and how badly you need him.  

“Does Tommy have Ellie tonight?” You mumble, trying not to sound too irritated. 

“I was stopping in to see her before leaving her with Maria for the night when you called.”

“Why?”

“I was gonna come over here and apologize.” He sounds just as sincere as he did last time but you still scoff.

“What’s the excuse this time?” When you turn to scowl at him he looks guilty.

“I was out of town on a work trip.”

“And you couldn’t answer your phone.”

“I forgot my charger at home.”

It’s a preconceived lie. You’re certain of it based on how quick he replies, and it’s not even a good one. He could have borrowed a coworker's phone or bought a new charger; it wouldn't have been difficult. But he doesn’t want you to know where he really was. 

Every bit of this confuses you. 

You saw something in the woods, but it wasn’t Joel? Joel was with Ellie and then he was with you, he couldn’t have been slaughtering lost hikers. It doesn’t make sense. One thing is for certain though, and it’s that you can’t break up with Joel until you know what's going on or more people are going to be killed by that thing you saw in the woods. You aren’t really sure what to call it, but you know that you found the thing that’s been killing. 

And he knows something about it. 

He had no reason to get as rattled as he did if he didn't know something about what you saw. So you can’t break up with him, not until you figure this all out. Until then you just have to play the part of a clueless, loving girlfriend. Which shouldn’t be too hard considering the fact that for some reason there is still a sick and twisted attraction to him despite everything you know, settling in your stomach. You bite your tongue, going the rest of the short drive in silence. When he finally pulls up to the camper the engine goes quiet as he turns the key. You had no intention of inviting him in but you won’t stop him if he follows. 

You slam the truck door shut, stomping up to the door, his footsteps following close behind. 

“Let’s talk about this.” He reaches for your arm as you’re unlocking the door but you just shove him off. You leave it open, kicking your shoes off as you slip out of your jacket as you flip on the lights. 

“I don’t want to talk.” He shuts the door behind him, you note that he locks it behind him. 

How presumptuous. 

Correct, but presumptuous. 

“You’re clearly upset, bunny.” He kneels down, untying his own boots before kicking them off. You glare down at him until he stands, trying to pull you into his arms but you just shove him away again. His eyes go wide as he takes you in.

Based on his reaction you really must be quite a sight. 

“Jesus, you’re a mess.” He looks genuinely concerned but you brush it off. 

“Thanks.” You scoff but when you look down you realize you’ve been leaving a trail of blood in your wake. 

“Do you have a first aid kit?” You should send him away. Tend to yourself and go to bed, but instead you just point to the cabinet containing the kit, sitting on the table as he retrieves it, tossing it down beside you. He doesn’t ask what happened, grimacing as he lifts your leg to examine your ankle.

He doesn’t need to ask, he knows what happened. 

He tends to your wounds in silence. You wince as he wipes the lacerations on your ankle, they look bad enough that you consider just going to the hospital but he doesn’t seem too worried. They’re just shallow enough that you don’t think you’ll need stitches. 

You don’t watch as he sprays it with antiseptic, quickly wrapping it in a layer of gauze and then bandages. 

When he’s finished you’re ready to get angry with him all over again but the moment you open your mouth to yell at him he grabs you by the chin, taking a clean piece of gauze and gently dabbing the thin cuts that litter your face. 

You stare up at the ceiling light, refusing to meet his gaze. 

He tends to every one of them, taking extra care as he smears ointment on each one. When he’s finished he takes anything bloodied and gathers it in his hand, standing to toss them into the bin under the sink. You don’t turn, but out of the corner of your eye you see him bring his hand to his mouth. 

Your blood.

He tasted your blood. 

You can feel the bile rising in your throat but you just swallow it back down. 

“Now we can talk.” He makes his way back over to you but you just shake your head. 

“I already told you, I don’t wanna talk.” 

“Bunny-” He takes another step towards you. 

“Shut up.” 

“Don’t be like that.” There’s real remorse in his eyes, you might even feel bad if you didn’t know that he was lying to you. 

“Shut. Up.” You push him so he stumbles back onto the bed. “I’m not crazy.” He props himself up on his elbows to look at you as you say it.

“I know.” He sounds almost apologetic. 

“Take your clothes off.” You mumble, already tossing your shirt to the side. 

“Are you sure?” 

You’re sure that he knows what’s out there in the woods and he isn’t telling you. 

“I am.” You kick your jeans off to emphasize your point. You know he won’t deny you this. Whatever sick, unexplainable force pulls you into his arms affects him as it does you. You don’t just want him, you need him. 

You hadn’t realized it until he’d disappeared again, but now you couldn’t be more aware. It’s as if your entire life you’ve felt wrong. You’ve been in a state of discomfort for as long as you can remember, like a vital part of you was missing. But you got used to it, and you learned to live with the odd sensation of never feeling like you're in the right place, nowhere ever felt like home. 

Joel feels like home, in a sort of twisted way. 

From the moment you first saw him everything cleared up. It was like you had finally found your center of balance, and when he disappeared he took all of that with him. 

This is more than just attraction. 

With that he tugs his flannel off, you grab the bottom of his shirt, impatiently pulling it up over his head, not wanting to look him in the eyes, you stare at his shoulders as you climb up onto the bed, straddling his lap. 

“I really think we should talk-” He starts again so you reach behind yourself, unclasping your bra, glaring at him as you let it drop.

“Then talk.” 

He looks at you like you’re something to eat. 

“That’s not fair.” He finally manages to pull his gaze off of your chest, looking you in the eyes, his pupils swallowing his irises leaving you to stare into the darkness of his eyes.  

“There’s nothing to talk about, you went away for work and you forgot your phone charger.” You reach between the two of you to remove his belt, tossing it behind him on the bed before trying to unzip his jeans. “It was just an unfortunate series of circumstances.” You grumble before lifting yourself off his lap so he can shove his jeans off.

He’s glaring at you now. Good. He should know that you’re challenging him. Everything from this point on is a game, you just have to catch him in a lie. You grind down against the straining fabric of his boxers, hands on his shoulders to balance yourself as you rub yourself against his clothed erection, drawing a hiss from between his teeth. Before you know it his hands are gripping the hem of your panties. 

“Go on Joel, rip them off. I know you’re plenty capable.” You say it like the accusation it is. He’s strong enough to do a lot of things, you aren’t sure if tearing a person in half is one of those things but you’re determined to find out. He knows what you’re implying but he does it anyway, grabbing the fabric on either side of your hips and easily tearing them to shreds. 

“You don’t know what you do to me.” He murmurs, leaning forward to press his forehead to yours. 

You do. 

He does the same to you. A carnal desire, your most basic human instincts are reduced to nothing the moment your skin is against his. 

You don’t waste any time, slipping your hand under the waistband of his underwear, watching his cock spring free, slapping against his stomach. You unceremoniously spit in your hand before taking him in your fist, watching his jaw go slack as you rake your nails against the underside of his cock, feeling him twitch in your hand. You keep your eyes trained on his face as you notch him at your entrance, tilting your head to the side as you hesitate. 

The veins in his neck jut out as you slide the head of his cock over your clit, hissing softly as you do. 

He’s purposefully showing restraint. 

He clutches the sheets, his knuckles go pale and you can’t help but wonder if he isn’t touching you because he’s worried he’ll hurt you. 

“Fuck me, Joel.” You lean forward, biting his stupidly plush bottom lip. He doesn’t move his hands from where they are and you can’t help but scowl against his mouth.   

He’s holding back. 

He knows exactly what you’re doing and he’s trying to prove you wrong. How long has he been holding back?

In one sharp motion you slide down on his cock, forcing an obscene moan out of yourself, but it isn’t loud enough to cover the ripping sound. Your eyes wander downward, his are rolled back but all you can focus on now is your torn bed sheets in his clenched fist. 

Holy hell.

“Fuck. Me.” You rasp out, lifting your hips again before dropping them back down. His head falls forward this time, his mouth latching onto your shoulder, muffling his growl.

You know that growl. 

“Fuck me or leave, Joel.” You take his face in your hand, roughly pulling him back so he’s eye to eye with you.

You heard that growl in the woods less than an hour ago. 

“You’re playing with fire, bunny.” He glares at you but you just stare right back. 

“I won’t say it again.” You give him one last warning and he finally brings his hands to your hips, with a grunt he lifts you up, slamming you back down on his cock, you can feel him brushing against your cervix as you cry out. 

At his age he shouldn’t be able to do that. 

He does it again, moving you like a ragdoll up and down on his length, a lewd squelching fills the air, egging him on. He tilts his head down, his teeth scrape against your breast, and you can hear a roar building in his throat. He fucks you like a fleshlight, moving you effortlessly up and down on his cock, your chest bouncing with each thrust.

He shouldn’t be able to do any of this.

Neither one of you speaks, you can feel the camper swaying ever so slightly as he slams into you, thrusting his hips up to meet yours as he pulls you down onto him. 

He makes it look effortless. 

Another growl rips through the air and you know neither one of you is gonna last long if he keeps going at this pace. He hammers into your sensitive spots with every thrust, your clit rubbing against the dark curls along his pelvis.

He’s merciless with the force at which he moves you, he’s started nipping at your shoulder and you know he’s close as they get harder and harder. You finally feel him break the skin and just like that he’s lifting you off of him, his mouth clamped down on your flesh, you feel his cum between your legs as he finishes on your folds. The sensation of him slipping out of you sends you over the edge right along with him, your stomach tightening as you groan, letting your head fall forward onto him.

You feel better already. 

Not good, just better. 

He manages to keep you both upright for a few more moments before collapsing down on the mattress with you in his arms. 

And then it’s just quiet.

Until the mattress squeaks as you get up. Wiping yourself off with a towel and turning the lights off before returning to bed without a word. He’s the one who finally breaks the silence.  

“If you want me to leave, I’ll leave.”

 “You can stay.” You mumble, rolling over to face away from him. 

It’s better if you know where he is. 

That’s what you tell yourself. 

It’s easier to swallow that excuse than the truth, that you can’t shake the terror from your encounter with the creature and now amount of fucking is going to change that. You don’t want to be alone, no matter how angry you are. He doesn’t seem to take the hint though, snaking his arm under yours and pulling you to his chest. 

You start to push him away but you feel a wave of calm wash over you when he does so you just settle back against him. You close your eyes, praying sleep might come but all you see in the darkness is that open maw closing in on you. 

You know that growl. 

It isn’t Joel. It can’t be Joel, he was with Ellie and then he was with you. 

It wasn’t Joel.

You’re more than used to waking up in the woods at this point. Monsters and men torment you in your dreams whenever they get the chance to. 

But tonight is different. 

You don’t feel the cold, wetness of the forest floor on your back before you open your eyes. Instead you only feel steel, you make an attempt to sit up on instinct but you can’t. In a panic you open your eyes to find yourself cuffed to the cadaver carrier from Marias basement. 

This can’t be happening. 

This is the kind of dream you get after your first body. 

You’ve had this dream, years ago when you’d just started studying mortuary sciences. Although now it feels worse, more ominous than it had previously. 

That probably has to do with the fact that you can’t move. 

In response to that petrifying thought you begin to uselessly tug on the cuffs, your ankles and wrists attached to the cold unforgiving steel of the table you’ve sewn countless bodies back together on. 

You don’t strap cadavers down, there’s no need to. 

The door swings open and you’re thankfully able to sit up enough to watch Maria and Joel walk in, solemn looks on both of their faces. 

You open your mouth to call for help but something stops you.

No.

No, no, no.

Your jaw is wired shut. 

The sudden realization makes you gag as you shake the table with the force of your panic. 

Maria is always thorough, your mouth is full of cotton.

They act as if you’re as lifeless as any other corpse as they stand beside you, despite your muffled screaming, tears immediately flowing from your eyes as you feel your throat constrict around the cotton.  

“What happened to her?” He sounds so far gone even though he only stands a few feet away. 

“You know what happened to her.” Marias sorrow turns to a look of resentment as she turns to Joel. 

“Bear attack.” He says it more to himself than to her. 

“Keep telling yourself that.” 

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“You never do.” Her voice is full of a hatred you haven’t ever heard in reality. 

She looks at you with a pity you’ve had on your own face before. It’s the same look you give every corpse on a table.  

You follow Maria’s gaze down at your body and find your chest sliced open, the inside dry. 

And then you wake up. 

Of course Joel is there when you sit up in bed with a strangled cry, a fresh flood of tears falling down your face. 

“Bunny?” His groggy, sleep ridden voice resembles a growl, sending you backwards away from him, your back hitting where the mattress meets the camper wall. He’s already up, he moves towards you but the moment you flinch away from he stops. “Are you okay? What hap-“

“Don’t come any closer.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Thankfully he doesn’t move towards you, he holds his hands up ever so slowly. He’s acting like you’re a cornered animal. 

You can’t seem to find your voice. Every single logical and rational part of your body and mind tell you to get as far away from him as possible. To fight tooth and nail to get past him, to run away and never look back. You’d never get away with that though, he’s too deeply rooted in you already. He’s made for you. Sculpted by the gods to be everything you’ve ever wanted all in one neat little salt and pepper package, served up to you on a silver platter.  

“Sweetheart, it’s okay, you’re okay.” He inches forward a bit but the way you pull your legs up against your chest, trying to make yourself smaller makes him move back. “It’s okay, it’s just me.” 

Yeah Joel, that's the problem.  

a/n : i have such mixed feeling abt this chap but whatever i really like it so ?? idk

I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!

[samicakes-exe]

Hi, I loved the hatefucking jtk fic and I was wondering if you could do a part 2 where maybe he is jealous about something happening between the reader and someone else and he "reminds" the reader who she belongs to; or maybe into a crazy discussion jeff throatfuck the reader ( I'm sorry for being a lewd bitch and my lack in fantasy but your writing is so well done and is my first time requesting someone so feel free to consider or not my request :3 ) take care <3

AHHH! I am so happy that I am ur first request! and I hope that I make you proud hun! Also Dont apologize for being a lewd bitch! Lewd bitches are welcomed here!!! am very excited to make the Jeff fic into a little series! so without further ado here is the fic! going to start these specific type of fics with the title!

OKAY SO I MAY HAVE STORED THIS IN MY DRAFTS FOR MONTHS HOLY SHIT IM SO SORRY- um so imma just release it without editing it sooooo sorry to the jeff fuckers i’ll get better food to you soon pls 🧎‍♀️

words:

ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ʜᴜʀᴛ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ? <3

(throat-fucking version!)

warning: Jealous toxic toxic Jeff. Roughness, dub-con???? probs dub-con im so sorry (maybe non-con i dunno i wanna make sure!!), a little bit of angst, tears, Public like you could get caught, throat-fucking, Jeff pushes your head. Afab reader, use of feminine pet names, only Jeff getting off. V toxic, Jeff is sweet at the end???, light aftercare, arguing/fighting, Barely edited rip

ℚ𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕝𝕚𝕝 𝔹𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕥 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥 𝕪𝕒 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨:

Jeff is a man of many words (mostly insults) BUT my boy shuts up when his feelings are hurt.

You two's relationship is complicated.

Not quite boyfriend and girlfriend but also not only fuck buddies.

He feels entitled to you.

Sooo seeing you flirt with any other guy in the house sends him over the edge.

He wont confront you out right since he doesn't want anyone else in the house knowing he stands you.

So usually he grabs you when the others are busy- taking you off to a secret corner to have some fun

or HE WILL IGNORE YOU FOR THE REST OF THE DAY!

honestly it's a 50/50 chance

Tonight wasn't any different to the small hang outs the creeps occasionally do:

Tim and Brian managed to get their hands on some cases of beer.

BEN is playing music from his "perfected" party playlist

and everyone is having a good time!

except Jeff :(

He's watching you closely from across the living room, his grip on the red solo cup was tight.

You were in the corner with EJ, talking about whatever.

It didn't matter to him.

The lingering touches of Jack's arms.

How you stared up at him, batting your eyes.

How your giggles lasted a little while longer

You couldnt stop smiling

He hated it

He watched EJ slipped away and went over to grab another beer So Jeff made his way to you.

You weren't aware of him until he had his hand wrapped around your arm and roughly pulling you away.

★★★

𝕆𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕞𝕦𝕥!!!

The crowd was thinning out leaving red solo cups littering the floor. The music still pumped from a small speaker resting up on a bookshelf. There was BEN and LJ still hanging around near the drinks. A couple of other creeps spread out between you and Jeff.

He's kept an eye on you the entire night but now paying closer attention, You were curled up in the corner of the living room with Eyeless Jack close by chatting among yourselves with the same cheap beer in hand.

It put a sour taste in Jeff's mouth.

It was clockwork with every assumed joke, you giggled and playfully touched his arm and it lingered there before falling to your side. Jeff's jaw clenched, teeth pressing against teeth tightly.

Another joke and you were touching him again. This time on his upper arm, a smile stretched wide across your face as you nodded your excited agreement to whatever he said. Jeff couldn't hear over the music playing but the pit in his stomach grew with how long the touch was. He counted the seconds with how tense his jaw gotten by the time your hand dropped back to your side, it was clicking.

Jeff put the cup to his lips and swallowed the last bit of beer, swishing around in his mouth beforehand.

The solo cup ended up being tossed on the couch with a collection of others.

He couldn't pull his eyes away from you for long, watching how innocently you were batting your eyes up at EJ, leaning ever so closer when he spoke.

Whenever Eyeless Jack pulled away however, excusing himself to grab another lukewarm beer. A small pout pulled at the ends of your lips watching him now leave and talk with both LJ and BEN.

At the moment with the rest of the creeps distracted, Jeff strolled up to you and without a word he pulled you by the arm to the hallway.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He asked, keeping his voice hushed.

"What do you mean what I'm doing?" You asked mimicking the same tone as he was.

"Trying to fuck Jack." He said pointedly.

"Trying to... fuck.. Jack" You repeated it slowly, blinking blankly each time. "I can't have friends now?"

"Y/N Fuck off with that friends bullshit."

"Jeff we're not together." You reminded him. He was slowly starting to get on your nerves now, he always worked you up like this no matter what.

Jeff's squeezed his jaw tight, you were right and how he fucking hated it.

"Knees."

"Excuse me?"

"On your knees now, Y/N"

"As if Jeff... You know you're a real piece of wor-" You were cut off by him shoving you down, your knees buried in the itchy carpet.

"Shut up." He ordered, he wound your hair in his fist pulling it back to force eye contact. "We might not be together but I'm the only one that fucks you, got it?"

"Fuck you." You spat.

"Already did doll, so has every other guy in the house apparently."

You rolled your eyes but stayed on your knees. The bickering starting a warmth between your thighs which made you stay put right where you were. You watched him look around over his shoulder to make sure the coast was clear before his free hand went to his dress pants and fumbled around with the zipper.

You couldnt help but to giggle under your breath which made him yank your hair back.

"Shut up." Despite being a whisper his tone was harsh. With enough effort he finally pulled his hardening cock out of his jeans. "And open that pretty little mouth for me."

You stared up at him with your mouth shut tight and a cocky smile that pulled on your lips. You innocently bat your eyelashes up at him, watching his eyes narrowed.

"I'll make you." He threatened, his grip on your hair got tighter, the nails of his ever so slightly digging into your scalp.

You stayed staring up at him with your mouth tightly shut.

"I warned you." He muttered, a hand of his going and plugging your nose tightly.

Your eyes flew opened and you tried to keep your mouth shut for the longest time but you felt a deep burn build up to your lungs. Holding it in was making the burn climb up your throat. Finally you gave in, opening your mouth and taking the first greedy breath in.

"Good girl." Jeff chimed, and he quickly pushed his cock into your open mouth, pushing about halfway in. "Was that so hard?"

You looked up at him with your eyes narrowed and he reqarded your mean stare with another shallow thrust of his hips. He leaned his head back and moaned softly, forcing your mouth deeper on his cock.

You placed both hands on his thighs while gagging around his cock, eyes watering up when he hit the back of your throat with one deep push of his hips.

He looked back down at you, seeing how red your face has gotten only spurred him on, He quickened his thrusts into your mouth leaving you sitting and drooling all over his cock.

"God Doll." He moaned, pushing your head to meet with his thrusts. "I forgive you~ I forgive you~" He whispered cocky sorrys while he filled your throat.

He watched you drool on his cock, face red and a couple of tears cutting a cold line in them. You dug your nails into his thighs while you held on.

He wasn't going to last long, not that he cared.

"Oh fuck!" He whined out softly, now struggling to keep his voice low. He fucked your mouth faster, holding onto your head with both hands as he was nearing his release. He whispered out many intelligible praises and curses. "Cumming!" He grunted out.

With one final thrust deep in your throat he finally came, letting out soft moans as he gently pumped your mouth to make sure you had every last drop. Soon he pulled out, looking down at you. A cocky smile against his carved one.

"Was i to rough on you doll?" He asked, shoving himself back into his pants and zipping up before leaning down and offering you a hand.

You took it and he pulled you up. "No.. Could warn me next time." You laughed.

"Where's the fun in that?"

[ziminy]

Beauty and the beast

Where he was the beast

Tags: smut, mdni, f!reader, explicit language, size difference, edging, fingering, Toji being the fucker he is(it is what it is I don't make the rules) , p in v, pussy slapping, belly bulge, unprotected (don't do it, it's not worth it, you'll wake up with unwanted surprises) , marking, he eats you out but with your panties still on, if I forgot something I'll add it later.

Author's note: Happy Halloween. Ehehe.

2416 words

Masterlist

He was big and terrifying. You can't even look him in the eyes because of the way he was intimidating you. Was he even human? He looked like one, yet his whole aura gave you chills down your spine.

And even so, you still ended up in his bed. He was over you, caging you in his arms. You couldn't move an inch away from him.

He stayed in between your legs, doing nothing more than looking at you. He was studying you, your expressions, the way you're shaking without him doing anything. He's just breathing. His face moving to your neck, his hot breath against your skin.

He was playing with you.

You didn't even know what to do anymore. Be scared of him or let him do his thing? Either way, it still didn't change your mind of how you're viewing him.

He was insane for keeping you next to him when you got there by accident. You're not supposed to be there. It's not like he can do anything since the curse can't be lifted anymore ,he failed to break it a long time ago. Now it was just him being punished for his crimes. For the people he killed and for being a menace. It was his punishment yet he can't help but bring someone innocent into his prison.

Was he lonely? Maybe. But he won't admit it. Even if he was lingering for some kind of touch, from you especially. You who is so much smaller than him. You who looked so cute compared to him who looked like a beast.

Maybe all he wanted was some human company. But he can't think of someone else in your place. Placed on his bed, open arms and legs even though you're terrified of him.

He open his mouth, his face still buried in your neck. His fangs were showing. He was ready to bite you. He wanted to sink his teeth into your skin, leave him mark on you. He wanted you to be marked, for everyone to see he was there. In case you managed to escape, to still have a part of him on you.

His greedy part was showing. He was no honest man after all. He was never one. And he will never be. That's why he's locked in that damn castle after all. If he was anything close to honest he wouldn't had been there, locked away from civilization.

"Tell me what you want." it was mockery. He didn't asked to please you, he asked to make fun of you. To humiliate you when you're needy for him. Even if it was the other way around, he was needy for you. He's just as prideful as ever.

Even so, you looked at him, his head on your shoulder, sinking his teeth into you, to make you say something. To hear your voice. Because he would rather die than ask you to talk to him, it felt like he was begging. He was begging right now. I mean, look at him. All worked up to keep you there, to never let you go out that place even if you cried about it for days, weeks even.

You opened your mouth, yet nothing came out of it. You tried again. All that it got out your mouth this time was his name. "Toji." it came out as a broken cry. It made his dick throb in his pants.

"That's my name." he wanted more than that. His name out your mouth wasn't enough. He wanted to hear so much more, your name, about your day even if he knows damn well how it went. His cravings were for your sweet voice and touch. It didn't even matter if it was in an intimate way as long as he have it.

"Toji.." you said his name so much softly this time. He stopped in place, for a moment trying to remember how it was. Yes, talk to him in that voice. In that tone. Look at him just like that, all lovely. Looking like you loved him all your life.

He was being delusional. It wasn't love. It was concerned, it was tiredness. It was your feelings mixed. You were careful with words and how you looked at him. You were trying to please him to be able to live for another day, not to let him make fantasies in his head.

He was beyond sane. His lips traveling lower only to be stopped by your shirt. The disrespect a thing must have to show in his way like this, when all he wants is to explore your body. To see places he never saw before, to get to touch you like it was the first and last time you're doing it. Like it was the last day on earth, or like his life depends on it even if he couldn't give a fuck if he's about to die.

With a single move he ripped your shirt open. It made you gasp. "It stayed in the way." he said like it was that easy to rip a shirt, and to make it look like it's nothing.

Whatever. It wasn't like you needed that shirt, not when you had him to keep you warm. Or it's not like you need it when he needs access to your body 24/7. His head was filled with excuses of why you don't need that piece of fabric anymore.

He got out his thoughts so fast, his lips back on your body. His hands so cold and yet they were still on your body. Oh, he just loved the way you squirmed. How your body is reacting to everything he's doing. It fed his ego so much, it made his delusions even bigger.

His eyes moved up on yours when he got with his lips right about your pants. Your hands went to his shoulders, trying to push him to not do the same thing again. "I'll do it. I'll take it off." he couldn't care less about that. His hands went to your sides, pulling only your pants off. This became so much slower, but well, your panties looked cute on you. He had a grin on his face. His face went in between your legs, kissing your clothed pussy before licking it. "Look at you. You're so wet, your panties are soaked." he said it like he didn't liked it, even if he loved it.

He left kisses left and right, he was trying to feel the way you taste. He was dying to rip those panties and push his face into your pussy. He was trying to become one with it. His lips went to your clit, kissing it and sucking on it. The way your thighs were wrapped around his head, trying your best to not squeeze him. He wouldn't mind. He would love it. The only way he could die happily.

His hands wrapped around your thighs, making sure to trap his head between them. Was he making you feel good? Say it. Oh god, he wants to know what's happening in your head. He put so much passion into his actions, tongue out trying to get inside your cunt. He was eating you out like he meant it. You sound so cute, how you're trying so hard to not be so loud. Even if you and him are the only people there.

He let go of your thighs falling off his shoulders. His face away, now back on top of you. You won't get to cum unless you give something to him. He'll make you feel good when he feels like it. "You want me?" you didn't dared to step over the line. You would always take whatever he wanted to give.

Your silence made him mad. You were always so quiet. Didn't you got it by now? If you want it, prove it. He would do whatever you want, or not. Who actually knows. You're playing with him and he's playing with himself. It was stupid.

"Little one.." he grabbed your face with his hand making you look at him. "Say what you want." you didn't know. It's not that you're confused, you didn't know what you could do. What were your limits when it came to him.

"I don't know." it took him a simple move for your panties to disappear, just like your shirt.

"Keep your legs open." he sat next to you, his hand over your pussy, slapping it softly before two of his fingers went inside without much warning. So wet, so warm. It was squeezing him so good that he was jealous for a moment. Yes, jealous of his own hand. It could have been his cock inside you if you tried being honest.

He moved his fingers in and out of you at a normal speed, and to be honest, it was too fast for just the start. His thick fingers, that you were surprised it even fit in to begin with. Your hand went on his, trying to stop or slow the movement, either way, you would be thankful. That only made him to go faster, curling his fingers to make you melt in his hands. He loved it, seeing you finally admit you like it. Your face, the way your grip on his hand becomes softer. How your body temperature rises, your heartbeat. He was salivating.

Then he stopped again whenever he made you feel like you were seeing stars. The pleasure builds, and then he stops, leaving your feelings hanging in place. He got his fingers out just to look at his hand full of your juices. Lovely. You were embarrassed by it, you hide your face trying to not see it. He wants you to see it, because he knows how you feel. Don't hide.

His fingers went back in again, this time only rubbing his palm against your clit. Your breath changes, your tensed. Were you sensitive? Was him denying your orgasms too much? How cute of you. He curl his fingers again, moving it in and out of you to see you shake, squirm. He just liked how you couldn't stay in place. "When are you going to need my cock, huh? I'm ready to fuck you. Maybe even let you cum." his words were tempting. And his voice in your ear was making your pussy squeeze.

You wanted to say something. You looked at him with pleading eyes. Say it, you can do it. He didn't let you say anything and started curling his fingers harder. You closed your eyes, trying to not let out unwanted cries. You bite your lower lip.

"You'll have to let everything out first. If I don't hear you then I might as well leave you here like this." you didn't know what he wanted. Wasn't he used to silence? Isn't this what he needed? Wouldn't noises be too much? "I don't hear you." you finally let out a broken moan, or cry. You weren't even sure what it was but you were sobbing. "Like this." he could listen to your voice for hours. This is what he wants to go to sleep to.

"Toji.." you grabbed on his sleeve. "Please." you looked at him. "Please fuck me." a few more thrusts, and he got his fingers out yout cunt, placing a few slaps on your pussy again.

"Don't take back what you said later." this fucker, he still dares to act like this when he can't get enough of you. He didn't even know what to get off himself first. He took his pants off and threw them somewhere around the room along with his underwear, his shirt being raised off his abs. He wanted to get inside your pussy, he couldn't wait anymore.

Now being in between your legs, his shirt in his mouth as he pushed his cock inside you. Hands dragging you closer to him as he moved his hips, taking his shirt off as fast as he could so he could focus everything he haves on you. His hips ramming into you, again and again and again. Trying all kind of angles just to see which one you preferred better. That until he went all the way inside, hitting that one spot that left your legs weak.

Here it was, he should have focused on it from the start. Holding your hips in his hands he thrusts into you, harder, not faster. Because it was about how long can you last. He was feeding from your feelings. Your pussy felt good, truly. But it was also about how you responded to his movements. Because he was feeding off you. That's what he was after from the start. Not just some pussy.

"Here, yeah? You like it here?" he could see the bulge his cock left every time he was all the way in.

"Yeah." you nodded. "There." He moved his hands, one resting next to your body while the other was holding your hand. His body getting closer to yours. His chest right against yours as his hips kept ravaging into yours.

He marked his territory. His lips back on your neck and shoulders. Kissing, biting, sucking here and there to leave visible marks on it. You looked so much better like this. In his arms, letting his do what he wanted. It meant you trust him, no?

"Fuck." he groaned. You were so close. Yet you didn't wanted to say anything, afraid he would stop it once again, take this feeling from you. His lips on yours, his hips moving faster than before. Wanting nothing more than leave his load in you. "You'll take all of it, right?" he said it like he didn't already made his mind. You only nodded. Not even able to make a simple sentence to say it.

His grip on you was tight. And when he came, he never stopped moving his hips, making sure everything stays inside.

"You can take another, no?" not even once have he stopped his hips. But for a moment he stopped, flipping you over and then getting back inside as fast as he could. Wouldn't you feel alone without his dick? Your face pressed against the pillow while your ass was up. You have more than enough time, the night was long. And no one would ever disturb you. So get ready because who knows when you'll be able to walk again.

[lovelykhaleesiii]

“it's my thigh or nothing. i'm not helping you get off.”

with chubby aegon please 🙏😩

Aegon ii SMUT Prompt #6

pairing: modern!chubby!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader

warnings: chubby!Aegon, swearing, thigh riding to the max, breast kink, stomach kink, slight edging, reference of p in v sexual intercourse.

a/n - whoever you are nonnie, you read my mind reading that prompt…. kudos to you, your fine ass specimen p.s I may have gotten carried away with this one... just a teensy tiny bit whoops-✨

Having a boyfriend who leant more towards the thicker, more larger side of life had its perks, that was the honest truth… Your sex life? Impeccable.

You’d never been more pleased and sated in your life, with anyone before, until Aegon waddled in. He was essentially your very own, real-life teddy bear. Always embracing you in his warmth and plush, he was a needy thing. He just had to feel you in some way, whether it was as simple as hand-holding or as invasive as cockwarming you from dusk till dawn, he had to touch you in some physical way.

To reiterate, he was a BIG boy. Which you did not mind, not one bit. In fact he was pretty cunning in the sense that he knew how to use his heavier mass around your body, to get precisely what he wanted. Practically pinning you against him between some wall or mattress, spreading your legs apart of him to nestle his wider frame into, till he was satisfied that you were completely full of him. Dripping with his seed, his hot spill just oozing between your thighs, as you'd whimper beneath the subtle pressure, writhing and squirming beneath to free yourself to breathe. Your naked, hot bodies naturally grinding against each other, the friction was palpable. You couldn’t get enough of him.

You often relished in the act of squeezing and biting at his chub, desperate to shove yourself deeper into his body, until you were practically smothered. It was invigorating to make Aegon work for you. Although, he did too, enjoy making you work for him.

It was no surprise, he was rather lazy. Much enjoying either eating or gaming if he wasn't already fucking you. And this evening you found your boyfriend practically infuriated, heated over an online session of gaming with Jace and Aemond.

An intense, booming "FUCK!" roared through your shared bedroom, as you entered, witnessing Aegon aggressively smacking down his controller, wiping his headphones off in a haste.

One thing about Aeg, he took his gaming very seriously: a single event to piss him off, would keep him heated the entire day, which meant only one thing... You would be responsible to sate him.

"Is it really so bad you lost, just this once, Aeg? Maybe you should take a quick break, and get back at them!"

"They're fucking assholes- I told them to respawn me, and those little fuckers wouldn't. Thinking they could win without me- Fuck-"

You were in no denial, to discount the fact that it kind of turned you on, seeing how heated and roused Aegon would get with these things, often enjoying having the power to calm him down.

"Come here, my big bear-"

As you'd been caressing small circles gently on his back, your hand then reached for his pudgy one, pulling and nudging for him to follow as you stood, attempting to walk towards the bed. Although, his heavier ton remained stagnant, not moving against your pull, causing you to stop from going any further.

"Aeg, what's wrong baby? Let me fuck you real good and respawn you myself, huh?" You teasingly wink up at him smiling, as you slowly kneel down before him, using his chunky, sprawled thighs for support, as he remained seated on his gaming chair.

"No, no- You just don't get it, Y/N-"

"Aeg, it's just a fucking game, get over it! You either let me fuck you till your happy, or I go to bed, which is it?"

The silence was eerie, although your temper raised. As your impatience grew thin, the stoic look strewed across Aegon's face was telling enough that your words had sent him over the edge.

"You can fuck me."

"That's what I thought," You sighed, as you pushed yourself up from his sturdy legs, just faintly beginning to swivel your body towards the bed, before Aegon's interjection stopped you so, your back still turned towards him.

"But it's my thigh or nothing. I'm not helping you get off."

You stood still for a few seconds before proceeding to turn to face Aeg, a chilling smile drawn across his soft, full face, brows raised almost in a menacing way.

"Is that so?" You uttered, Aegon nodding his head eagerly in agreement, his chair creaking beneath his heavy weight, as he leaned back, hands resting atop his head, as he spread his stocky legs out as much as the chair could grant.

"Well, are you no longer up for it, baby, or do you prefer to keep me waiting? Either or, you'll see what it feels like to lose."

A chuckled sigh escapes your mouth, as you nod in astonishment. You refuse to cave into his nags. You will cum, if it's the last thing you'll do on this ungodly man.

Having removed your lower garments, now completely bare, you'd raised his shorts up more, exposing more pale skin, as you'd applied some body oil, massaging it sensually into his tender skin. One thigh would suffice, its width and beefy size was all that you could take. Plopping yourself down carefully, you spared no second in beginning to rock yourself ever so slowly backwards and forwards, your bare cunt, beginning to ache that familiar dull throb strengthening.

"You don't think I can't get off like this, huh? If only you knew, silly boy. Seeing you like this, spoiling yourself with junk, growing that ass, and swelling. M-more for me to fuck. I-It turns me on so, so much, Aeg, you have no idea-"

Now your pace beginning to hasten, your rocking movements grew sloppier, the more attempts you made at plunging your cunt deeper against his skin. Your folds coated now with the oil and wetness beginning to pool between, helped to easily glide you over his thigh, the fat beneath swaying in rhythm to each direction you moved. His mouth found itself nibbling at the tender skin of your jawline, tracing its way down to the sensitive crook of your neck, chills etched all over your body. His palms kneaded and squeezed as your bare ass cheeks, naturally pushing your smaller frame deeper against his.

"Tell me more, Princess. What about this fat gut? I bet you want to rub that pretty, tight cunt all over all this-"

"Mhmm- Y-Yes Aeg-"

"My greedy, little girl. Knows all of this belongs to her, thinks she can just fuck me and go about her merry way. Brat. No, no, greedy, bratty girls get punished, Y/N."

"Then p-punish me, A-Aeg-"

An invigorating, deep growl echoed from his throat directly into your ear, as you practically green-lit for Aegon's shenanigans. The sheer, heinous thought that Aegon would pay you back for your bratty attitude this evening, along with the feverish friction brewing from beneath, in between your entrance and his thigh, could send you int an oblivion.

His plump, moist lips found their way, suckling at the sweet skin of where your cleavage showed, pressed up against his rotund chest, burying his face into your breasts. Your back arching against his wet trail of kisses and hickeys, your hips naturally bucked down, as the thigh riding grew messier, your nails digging into the plump rolls of his back, your could sense the wetness trickling from beneath, coating his thigh, as your clit grew more hot, heavily pressed against his radiating skin. You could feel the stiffness of his bulge growing by the second, visibly restricted beneath his shorts, bursting to come out.

"P-Punish me-"

And as discussed, Aegon fulfilled his words that evening. Having warmed you up with a single thigh, he effortlessly carried you towards the bed, laying you gently as to not part the vacuum of your bodies, where he shoved his cock deep inside, filling you completely with his hot, potent seed.

[eugenedebs1920]

If you can’t win. Cheat! That seems to be the platform for the once, Grand Ol Party. That party died with Eisenhower. Nixon was a paranoid, racist criminal, who would do what it took to keep power. The “Reagan Revolution” was nothing more than a script written for a literal actor to do the bidding of Wall Street and big banks. W. Bush was more of the same , but at least he was a war hero. H.W. Bush was the least qualified candidate for president until his maga successor would stumble into the oval office 16 years later.

The Republican Party is the same racist fucks that use to head the Democratic Party before the 1964 Civil Rights Act. It’s not blue or red, Democrat or Republican. It’s conservative v liberal. The conservative holding on to “the good ol days”. Yea!? What were those!? When you could treat a person of color like a second class citizen and all your other white friends would smile with approval. Tradition. What tradition is that conservatives?! Do we need to go farther back than that?! How bout when you could own another human being and make him do the work while you sat around and reaped the rewards? If that boy get outta line he’ll be gettin the whip! Fucking disgusting! Conservative. What the fuck you conserving!? Sure ain’t morality! Sure ain’t the rule of law! Sure ain’t the planet! Sure ain’t “family values”! Sure ain’t the Constitution, or our democracy, or our institutions, the courts, the balance of power, ethics, honor, dignity, pride! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU CONSERVING!?!? Because from where I’m standing, it’s hate. Because from where I’m standing, it’s voter suppression. Because from where I’m standing it’s corruption. Just like Reconstruction, just like the Jim Crow south, same shit. Different time. Same assholes!

Prove me wrong……

I’m almost as pissed At liberals as conservatives! (Not really) Do you want to make a change for good in this world?! Do you want to see equality as the law of the land!? Do you want acceptance and love to be the norm!? Where everyone is taken care of, we’re kind to those we know, and those we don’t. A place where corporate greed isn’t the main itinerary. Where being well educated is achievable to all Americans regardless of socioeconomic status? Do you want to live in a country where the bottom 50% of earners make more than 3% of the wealth?! Do you want fair banking and lending practices? A clean environment to live in, to be able to buy a house, raise a family, in a nation where the air is safe to breathe, where the water is safe to drink, where you don’t have to worry if your kid is going to get shot up at school?! Do you want civil rights, woman’s rights, LGBTQ rights, human rights, elderly protection, environmental protection, liberty, freedom, the right to pursue happiness?! Is that something you would like?!

Then toughen the fuck up! Quit this cancel culture, delicate snowflake bullshit! We’re not woke!!! We’re liberals!. The racist are coming with torches to lynch a motha fucker, you gunna stand up and fight, or curl up in a ball and cry!? The fuckin rules have been thrown out long ago. These pricks DONT FUCKING CARE! They will burn this shit down and wait for us to put it out with our liberal tears. Fuck that! If they’re going to burn this shit down we’re locking them In the fucking building while it burns to the ground. The gloves are off. No more going in to the boxing ring holding true to the sport while our opponent has a baseball bat and is ready to swing for the fences at us.

The high road has got us nowhere but low. So let’s stay there. If they’re want to play dirty and skirt the rules, so can we. If we don’t! And fuckin soon! They’ll be nothing left to fight for.

[mrprettywhenhecries]

don’t waste your time (on me) [g.t]

07. | Anything You Say Can and Will Be Held Against You (So Only Say My Name)

Gator Tillman ✘ Win Lewis (OC)

⇾ w.c. 6.2k words ⇾ tags/warning(s). canon x oc pairing, f!oc, misogynistic themes, death/blood, Roy being an asshole, cnc (consensual noncon), role play, rough sex, p in v, unprotected sex, dom!gator, spanking, pussy slapping, knife play, handcuffs, ownership kink ⇾ a/n. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💚

After Munch kills his partner and Gator gets a dressing down from Roy, he desperately needs to let off some steam and feel like a winner. Luckily, Win is only too happy to oblige.

[ masterlist • win bio ]

Gator’s watch buzzed on his wrist and he stirred, groaning as he lifted his head from Win’s lap.  He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the events from earlier had left him more exhausted than he’d realized, and Win’s lap and the way she ran her fingers through his hair after she’d sucked his soul through his dick was so comforting, he’d drifted off almost instantly.

The tv played softly in the background, but it seemed Win had fallen asleep as well, and Gator got up slowly, careful not to jostle her awake.  She looked so soft in her sleep, so vulnerable.  He still couldn’t quite believe she was his, that he got to see her like this – especially with how hostile she’d been when they first met, but it was that fiery personality that’d only made him want her more.

“Where’re you going?” she mumbled, stirring as Gator stood, adjusting his cargo pants and snug black t-shirt.

“Gotta head to work,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss the top of her head and she groaned, her lip pushing out in a pout.

“Do you have to?” she whined, her voice still heavy with sleep.  “Can’t you take the night off, since you’re injured?”

Gator frowned, he wished he could simply stay home with her, but he knew if he did, Roy wouldn’t be pleased and he didn’t want to look like a pussy that needed to be babied.

“I’m fine, ‘sides, I have a responsibility,” he insisted before softening once more.  “I’ll text you later,” he said, stealing one more kiss before shrugging on his tactical vest and bending to tie up his boots.

“Be safe!” Win called after him, stretching out on the couch and pulling a blanket over her.

Outside, Gator walked to the end of the drive and leaned against Win’s Chevelle to wait for Deputy Nugent to come pick him up.  Bringing his vape to his lips, he took a long drag, savouring the sweet taste on his tongue before blowing the vapour out, the white cloud hanging in the cool evening air for a moment before dissipating.

Soon Gator’d need to start wearing his cold weather gear.  The forecast for Halloween said snow, only a few days away.

Gator wriggled his fingers under the cast and grimaced, his jaw clenching at the pang of pain that raced up his arm and soon returned to a dull ache.  He took another drag off his vape, hoping the nicotine would dull his nerves.  Now that he didn’t have Win distracting him his thoughts returned to Ole Munch, the fucker who’d busted his wrist and gotten away.  For a moment he wondered where the skirt wearing freak would have gone.  Hopefully, into the wind and out of their hair, but he fought the urge to look over his shoulder, worry prickling in his gut that the strange man might come for revenge.  

If he was smart, he’d move on.

It stung, the fact that he’d managed to turn the tables on him so easily, and Gator still couldn’t banish the memory of his dad’s expression as he stood over him, Gator holding his useless arm to his chest, tears streaming down his face and the contents of his stomach still coming up–disgusted, but not surprised.

If he ever got his hands on Munch, he’d make the man wish he’d never been born.

Nugent’s police truck pulling up to the curb in front of him tore Gator from his thoughts and he pocketed his vape and pushed off Win’s car to climb in the passenger seat.

“Where’s your cruiser?” the other deputy asked, and Gator glowered at him, awkwardly buckling his seat belt.

“At home.  Win picked me up from the hospital,” he explained with a grunt and Nugent nodded, his eyes falling to Gator’s cast.  Noticing Win’s doodles, he let out an amused snort.

“Property of Win, huh?  Jesus, Gator, you’re so fuckin’ whipped.”

Gator’s brows pinched and he fought the urge to hide his cast.  “No I ain’t, shut the fuck up,” he huffed, adjusting the brim of his hat and scooting down further in his seat.

“She must be a damn good lay for you to put up with the rest of her,” Nugent chuckled, turning his eyes back to the road.

“I ain’t putting up with her,” Gator muttered sullenly, turning prickly.  “You’re just jealous cause she’s hotter than your fiance,” he drawled, earning him a hard look from the other man.

“Careful.”

“You fuckin’ started it,” Gator replied and Nugent didn’t respond, knowing Gator had a point.

“Seriously though, you can’t really be serious ‘bout her, are you?  You know Roy’d never allow it.”

Gator tensed, grabbing his vape and taking an angry puff.  “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not, but I don’t see how it’s any of your fuckin’ business,” he snapped.  “Don’t we got work to do?” he added, hoping to steer the conversation away from his relationship.  He didn’t need any more reminders about how his dad felt about Win.

“Someone’s in a mood,” Nugent murmured, his voice tinged with amusement.

“Yeah well, let’s see how cheery you’d be with a busted wrist,” Gator muttered, glancing out the window.  “Turn off here, I gotta take a piss,” he said, nodding toward the lone filling station up ahead.

Nugent parked and climbed out as well to top off the tank while Gator headed inside, some asshole nearly hitting his bad arm with the door as he pushed it open.  Already in a pissy mood, Gator hastily stepped back out of the way, raising his cast and giving the guy a dirty look before stepping past him and into the convenience store.

Half the building’s front windows had been busted out in a recent shoot out, just the day before, and the gaping holes had been covered with sheets of plywood and plastic til they could be replaced.

Gator glanced around before heading back to the men’s room and stepping up to the urinal, freeing himself to take a leak.  The stall closest to the wall had caution tape across the door and Gator peered inside as he zipped his trousers back up, noting the busted toilet where one of the assailants had fallen and cracked open his skull.

Gator wet his lips.  He’d been the one to hire the man.

Not that he could really find it in himself to feel all that bad for his fate.  No, it was the woman who’d killed him that weighed on his mind.  

At one point Gator had thought he’d never see Nadine again, not after she left–disappeared one day, just like his mom, just like she’d swore she’d never do.

Gator left the bathroom and ambled to the drink coolers at the back, picking out a bottle of Mtn Dew and grabbing a bag of spicy jerky on the way to the counter to pay, drumming his fingers impatiently as he waited for his card to go through.

“You got the security tapes from last night?” he asked idly, glancing up toward the camera facing him high up on the wall behind the counter.

The attendant glanced back over his shoulder at where Gator was looking and shook his head.  “Nah, I think some other cops took the whole system already.”

Gator nodded, grabbing his snacks.  Back in the truck, he leaned back in his seat to wait for Nugent, taking a bite of jerky and washing it down with a swig of pop.

“What the hell’s takin’ ‘im so long?” he muttered under his breath, only to jerk back in alarm when he caught sight of Nugent’s lifeless body on the pavement near the back of the truck, a large hunting knife buried in his chest.

“Oh shit–” Gator swore, hastily reaching for his service pistol as he reluctantly climbed out of the truck, his head on a swivel as he rounded the vehicle–afraid that whoever had killed Nugent was still there, waiting to take him out as well.

Shuffling nervously toward his partner’s body, Gator took a shuddering breath, his stomach turning at the dark growing pool at his feet.  Careful not to step in it, he peered down at Nugent and frowned.  Pinned to his chest by the knife was a message scrawled on a piece of used cardboard.

You owe me.

Munch.

Gator let out the breath he’d been holding and holstered his gun, instead pulling out his phone.  Roy wouldn’t be happy about this, but they needed to get it cleaned up and he couldn’t exactly call it out over the radio.

“Yeah?”

Gator sucked air through his teeth at his dad’s brusque greeting, steeling himself.

“Nugent’s dead.  Munch got him.”

There was a long pause, followed by a heavy sigh.  “Where are you?”

“The Revere filling station outside of Beulah.”

“Stay there.  I’ll be there shortly.”

The line clicked and Gator glanced around.  Luckily, the area was pretty well deserted, but he couldn’t leave Nugent’s body just laying there in case anyone saw it.  While he waited for Roy to arrive, he set to work hauling Nugent into the truck bed and covering him with a tarp before finding a hose around the side of the building to wash the blood away.

When his father’s truck pulled up, Gator jumped down from the truck cab where he’d been waiting, having pulled around behind the building and mostly out of sight.

“Called you directly.  Didn’t want this goin’ out on the wire.  Didn’t know what to do with him, so I put him in the back.”

“And where were you?” Roy asked, lifting the tarp covering Nugent’s body.

Gator shifted on his feet, glancing away.  “I was drainin’ the snake, two minutes, in and out.”

Roy sighed, dropping the tarp and planting his hands on his hips.  “Did you get a look at the tape?”

Gator shook his head.  “State cops took the whole system last night on account of the other thing,” he explained before letting out a scoff and copying his father’s posture.  “Can you believe this guy?  Comin’ back to the scene of the crime?  Doin’ that?” he said, gesturing to Nugent’s body.  “Talk about big balls.”

“Yeah well, I bet yours shriveled up a little bit on account of him gettin’ the jump on ya… again,” Roy countered, giving Gator a hard look, disappointment radiating off him.

Gator glanced at Roy, realizing he was right before yanking his hat from his head in frustration, smacking against his leg angrily.  “Son of a bitch!” he growled, carrying on for a moment before his dad rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed at the outburst.

“Alright, are ya done?”

Gator heaved a breath, his jaw flexing as he fought to wrangle his temper, turning back to his father and slipping his hat back on his head.

“Tell me again where you found this… Munch guy?  Is that really his name, Ole Munch?” Roy asked and Gator shrugged, rolling his shoulders uncomfortably.

“He says it… Oola,” he explained.  “A-and I didn’t find him, I found his partner.”

“What, the guy with his head in the toilet?”

Gator nodded.

“Alright well… first order of business, we need information.  Find out who this guy is.  Priors, known accomplices, known hangouts.  Then we smoke him loose,” Roy sighed.

“If he comes for us again–”

“Oh believe me, he’s coming.  Sleep with your hammer cocked, is my opinion, if you sleep at all,”  Roy interrupted, shaking his head before returning to business.  “Alright, the truck goes in a ditch, Nugent behind the wheel, report the cause of death as accidental.  Then you go to his fiance’s and break the news.”

Gator nodded.  “What’re you gunna do?”

“Don’t worry about what I’m gunna do, alright?” Roy grunted, pointing at him.  “You’re oh for two here, kid.  How do I teach ya to be a winner you keep losin’ all the time?”

At his father’s words, Gator’s face fell.  “I swear to God, him versus me, man to man, I’d wipe the floor with him,” he insisted.

Roy snorted.  “Yeah right.  Like high noon?  Yeah, that only happens in the movies, son.  Real life, they’ll slit your throat while you waiting for the light to change,” he muttered, clapping Gator on the shoulder before turning away, leaving him to clean up the mess.

As soon as the Sheriff was gone, Gator pulled his phone from his pocket, shooting off a text to Win.  As much as he’d wanted to return to her bed after his shift, it seemed he’d have to wait.  Besides, if his father was right about Munch coming after them, maybe it was better if he didn’t put Win in harm’s way for the moment.

Win grabbed a clean bar towel to wipe down the counter, only half paying attention to the mostly empty room.  It was still pretty early on a weeknight and Frankie’s only really bustled on the weekends.

“Okay, who wants to be the one to tell the creep in the corner to order something or get out?” Lydia asked, pulling Win from her thoughts and she turned to where her friend had glanced moments ago.

Sure enough, sitting alone at a small table in the far corner of the room was a man Win had never seen before, and she knew all the weekday regulars.

“How long has he been there?” Beau asked, leaning through the kitchen pick up window.

“Nearly an hour,” Lydia answered with a frown.

“He’s just been sitting there?”

“Yeah, staring at Win.”

“Wait, what?” Win asked, her head snapping toward the others.

“Yeah, I’m sure.  You haven’t noticed?” Lydia murmured.  “Do you know him?”

Win turned back toward the stranger, a shiver racing up her back when she found him watching her, his hard gaze unwavering.

“No, never seen him before.”

“Should I call Frankie?” Lydia asked hesitantly, fidgeting nervously and Win sighed, shaking her head.

“It’s okay, I’ll go talk to him, see what the fuck he wants from me.”

“You sure?” Beau asked at the same time Lydia urged her to be careful.

Win nodded to her friends as she rounded the bar and made her way toward the man’s table.  Heading closer, she got a better look at him, tucking the details away in case she’d need to recount them to the police later–though he seemed placid enough for the moment.

As she approached, the man’s eyes narrowed, regarding her stoically, his weathered face giving nothing away.

“Hey,” she called, planting her hands on her hips as she stopped several paces in front of him.  “I’m gunna hafta ask you to order something, or you’ll hafta leave.”

The man barely reacted, his large mouth twitching downward as his gnarled hands balled into fists atop his knees.  Win noticed beneath his fur lined coat, he seemed to be wearing a pleated wool kilt with leggings and heavy leather boots–not something many locals would wear–and his hair was an unusual cut.

“C’mon man, don’t make this hard on me.  I don’t really wanna hafta call the cops,” Win said, holding her breath, ready to jump back if need be, but the man merely nodded slowly, ducking his head, and Win had to stifle a gasp at the large gash sliced through his ear.

“A man can drink,” he finally spoke, a strange cadence to his heavily accented speech.

“Good,” Win sighed, letting out the breath she’d been holding.  “What should I bring you?”

The man seemed to think for a moment.  “ A man will drink… whatever is cheapest.”

Win huffed in amusement.  “I’ll be right back.”

“What’d he say?” Lydia asked as soon as Win returned to the bar, pulling out a bottle of Natty Lite and popping off the cap.

“He ordered the cheapest beer,” she laughed, wiping down the bottle with the towel draped over her shoulder.  “Guess he doesn’t want any trouble.  Kinda weird though,” she mused, but Lydia frowned, looking doubtful.

“But then why’s he been staring at you?  I still say he’s creepy.”

“Maybe he’s got a crush,” Beau laughed, and Win swatted at his head before heading back to the man’s table with his drink.

“Here you go,” she said, holding it out for him.  For a long moment, he merely stared at it before accepting it, holding the bottle awkwardly as if he didn’t quite know what to do with it.

Win watched him for a moment before turning to head back to the bar, shaking her head as she went, but she only made it a few steps before turning back to him, unable to curb her curiosity any longer.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

The man lifted his gaze to her face, studying her for a second before answering.

“A man is… far from his home.  He has not seen it in many… decades.”

Win nodded slowly.

“I feel that, though I think you’re a little farther from home than I am, mister,” she murmured, planting her hands on her hips.  “You in town for a while, or just passing through?”

Again, the man deliberated his words carefully before answering.  “A man must stay… longer than he intended.  Circumstances outside of his control have… waylaid him.  Complications he did not foresee.  Complications that must be… dealt with before he can move on.”

Win nodded.  She didn’t quite understand the stranger’s cryptic answer, but she got the jist of it.  “Kinda sounds like how I ended up here,” she murmured, noticing he hadn’t yet taken a drink.

“Can I ask you something?” she said, wetting her lips, and the man tilted his head as if listening, waiting for her question. 

“You got a name?  You keep referring to yourself in the third person.”

The man’s lips twitched downward.  “A man’s name is irrelevant,” he muttered sharply, studying Win before heaving a breath, his expression softening.  “But perhaps… a girl could know it.  Long before a man arrived on this soil, he was called Oola, Oola Moonk,” he answered, a preciseness to the way he formed the words and Win nodded.

“Alright then, Oola.  Can you tell me why you’ve been staring at me since you came in?”

At Win’s question, Munch hesitated, glancing down at the bottle clasped between his hands.

“One learns many things by observing.  A man needed to observe.  To learn,” he explained and Win’s brows furrowed.

“And what were you hoping to learn?” she asked, an edge creeping into her voice.

Munch shook his head.  “A girl is not what a man expected,” he mumbled, more to himself than her.

“What did you expect?” Win scoffed, but Munch merely stood, looming over her as he set his untouched drink on the table along with a couple crumpled bills.  

“The man bids the girl goodnight,” he said, stepping around her and heading to the exit, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and bringing it to his lips.

“The fuck was that about?” Win muttered as she watched him disappear, more confused than ever.  Grabbing the beer, she brought it to her lips, so as not to let it go to waste when her phone vibrated in her back pocket.

🐊🖤: You off soon?

‘Yeah, in ten, everything okay?’ she responded, a spike of worry flaring in her chest.

🐊🖤: Shitty day.  Need to let off some steam.  You game? ⛓️

Win let out the breath she’d been holding at his response, and her lips twitched as she typed a reply.

“Bring it on.”

“Open up, police!”  

Gator’s hard voice echoed through the door, followed by his telltale pounding and Win took her time heading to the door, splashing some water on her face at the kitchen sink before answering.

“What seems to be the problem, Deputy?” she asked as she opened the door a crack, her breath catching at the sight of Gator’s face, a fierceness to his gaze that gripped her, holding her in place.

Gator didn’t answer, instead forcing the door open and pushing his way inside before kicking it shut behind him.

“There’s a warrant out for your arrest, Lewis, and I’ve been authorized to use any force necessary,” he drawled, his hands resting on his hips as he looked her up and down, his gaze taking in her bare legs and oversized t-shirt that hung from her frame, and he wet his lips, his eyes finding hers.

“Now, are you gunna come quietly, or you gunna make us do this the hard way?” he asked and Win swallowed, arousal flooding her at the arrogant tone of his voice.

“What do you think?” she countered, taking off in the opposite direction, toward the kitchen.

“I love a good chase,” Gator growled, easily overtaking her and forcing her against the wall, pulling his handcuffs from his belt to cinch around her wrists, trapped behind her back.

“Fuck you, pig,” Win hissed, spitting in his face as he turned her around, and Gator’s lips twitched downward, scowling as he wiped the glob of saliva from his cheek.

“Feisty, huh?  I like that,” he grunted, his gaze trailing her defiant expression.  “Didn’t your daddy teach ya any manners?” he drawled, lip curling into a sneer.  When Win didn’t respond, he pressed her tighter against the wall, one large hand circling her throat, the tip of his nose brushing the shell of her ear as he leaned in.  “Guess I’ll have to.”

Moments later, Gator’s lips crashed into hers, tongue forcing its way into her mouth and she kissed him back just as hard, stealing his breath before biting down on his tongue.

“Ow!  Fuckin’ bitch—“ he hissed, jerking back.  “You’re just askin’ for it, ain’tcha?”

For a moment, however, Gator hesitated, his grasp loosening around her neck and he swallowed, his lips parting as worry flashed in his eyes.

Noticing the way his expression faltered, Win locked eyes with him.  “Green,” she breathed hoarsely, her breath shaking.  “Keep going.  Use me, Gator.”

A groan caught in his throat at her words, his cock growing impossibly harder.  Picking her up and tossing her over his shoulder, he carried her to the bedroom and dropped her unceremoniously to the bed, grabbing her legs and pulling her roughly toward the edge.

“Think you’re a little overdressed for what I’m gunna do to you,” he drawled, pulling his pocket knife from his tactical vest before shrugging it off and letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud.

Flipping open the knife, he knelt atop the bed, one knee between Win’s legs, and as soon as she saw the blade, a small gasp left her throat and she began to struggle, fruitlessly trying to scoot away from him, but Gator merely clicked his tongue and leaned over her, bringing the knife up to her face and running the dull edge down her cheek.

“Quit squirmin’, unless you want me to cut you,” he chuckled darkly, the knife hovering over her skin as it moved down the line of her throat to her collarbone.  Pushing her shirt up, Gator groaned, finding her tits bare beneath, and he pressed the flat side of the blade to her nipple, watching it harden against the cool metal.

Wetting his lips, he moved to her other breast, tracing her hardened bud with the knife before leaning over her to take it into his mouth, his tongue echoing the blade’s path before flicking against her, playing with the piercing that adorned her pert nipple.

“Hope you’re not too attached to this underwear,” he grunted, dragging the knife down her stomach, past her navel, and catching on the edge of her panties.

“Fuck you—“ Win hissed, but Gator’s teeth flashed in the darkness, sending a shiver through her.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to,” he drawled, and with a yank of the knife, he cut through the fabric covering her cunt, pausing to marvel at it before folding the knife up and slipping it in his pocket.  

Drawing his bottom lip between his teeth, he spread her folds with his fingers before pushing them into her, scissoring them inside her tight heat.

“Look how fuckin’ wet you are,” Gator said with a sneer, pulling his hand away to show her his fingers, shining with the residue of her slick, a translucent string connecting his digits as he parted them.  “Such a dirty little thing, gettin’ turned on by that,”  he taunted, holding his fingers in front of her face.  

“Suck ‘em clean, whore,” he instructed.

When Win didn’t obey, his dark eyes flashed, and without warning he brought his palm down against her pussy with a sharp slap, making her gasp, her body jumping at the shock.

“I said, suck,” he repeated and this time she dutifully opened her mouth, wrapping her lips around his fingers and hollowing out her cheeks to suck, a whimper echoing in her throat.

“That’s more like it,” Gator growled, his hands going to her waist, flipping her suddenly, so she was on her knees, her cheek pressed into the blankets.  Leaning over her, he reached into his pocket once more and Win wondered if he was getting the knife back out, until she heard the cuffs unlatch and she knew what Gator wanted to do.

“Thought I should get a chance to cuff you to the bed, sweetheart,” he chuckled, yanking her arms above her head to string the handcuff chain between the bars of her headboard before closing the cool mental back around her wrist, locking her in place so she couldn’t get away.

“Such a pretty fuckin’ sight,” he breathed, slapping her exposed ass with his good hand, his palm connecting with a loud crack, leaving her skin stinging.

Win let out a cry, giving a jolt, her hands clenching around the bars she was restrained against.  Behind her, Gator hastily unbuckled his belt and unzipped his cargo pants, freeing his throbbing cock and giving it a couple quick strokes before bullying his tip between her dripping folds.  For a moment, he pressed into her slowly, his breath hitching as he watched her suck him in, her velveteen walls contracting tightly around him as he disappeared inch by inch into her tight heat.

Growing impatient, Gator made several shallow thrusts before snapping the rest of the way into her, barely giving her time to fully adjust to his size, and forcing another sharp gasp from her lips.

“Oh c’mon, you can take it, bitch,” he grunted, smirking at the way her body jerked with each rough thrust, the slap of skin on skin and the lewd squelch of her cunt filling the room, competing only with Gator’s heavy breaths and Win’s whimpered moans, until the bed began to thump rhythmically against the wall.

“That’s it,” he growled, his good hand tangling in her hair, yanking her head back as his fingers dug into the fat of her hip, his cast making it awkward to hold onto her as he rammed into her, her tits jiggling with each rut of his hips.  “So fuckin’ tight.  Whose cunt is this?” 

“Y-yours,” Win gasped, her eyes rolling up into her head as Gator’s cock dragged against her g-spot, sending electricity coursing through her, her pleasure building til her head swam, forcing any other thought from her mind.

“That’s fuckin’ right, babe,” he hissed, growing close, his thrusts turning jerky and desperate.

Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, he fought not to cum before he felt Win tense, clenching impossibly tighter around him, her body nearly giving out beneath her as she cried out, Gator’s hold on her and the handcuffs the only thing keeping her upright before he finally emptied himself inside her, going rigid before collapsing over her.

For a long moment, Gator didn’t move, his forehead pressed between Win’s shoulder blades, his breaths coming in heavy pants as he calmed himself, his cock softening inside her.

“Gator?  Can you… uncuff me?  I can’t feel my hands,” she groaned and he gave a start, quickly straightening and pulling out of her, only allowing himself a second to marvel at the way his spend seeped lazily from her fluttering hole.

“I gotcha,” he mumbled, shoving his hand in his pocket to retrieve the key and unlocking the cuffs, loosening them from her bruised wrists.

As soon as she was free, Win let out a soft sob and collapsed to the bed, the sound wrenching at Gator’s heart.

“Are you okay?  I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he exclaimed, hovering anxiously, not really knowing what to do.

“I’m fine, just a little sore,” Win assured him, her voice cracking.  “Can you… can you hold me?” she asked, lifting her face to look at him, a vulnerability to her that made Gator want nothing more than to protect her.

“Course, just a sec,” he breathed, hurriedly undressing the rest of the way and crawling atop the bed to pull her into his arms, his chest aching as she instinctively buried her face in the crook of his neck.  Pressing his lips to the top of her head, Gator rubbed her back, coaxing her tense muscles to relax.  

“Did something happen?” Win murmured, her voice muffled somewhat by the way she nuzzled against him and Gator tensed at the question.

“What do you mean?”

Win shifted, lifting her face to look at him.  “I mean, not that I’m complaining, but did something happen to spur this on?” she asked, burying her fingers in the thick dark patch of hair on his chest.

“Oh,” Gator breathed, shaking his head as a heavy sigh rattled through him and his hold on her tightened as he thought of a way to word what had happened the night before without making her worry further.  “I uh, I fucked up at work, disappointed Dad,” he mumbled, his stomach dropping as Roy’s words replayed through his head.

“How do I teach ya to be a winner, you keep losin’ all the time?” he repeated with a scowl.

“The fuck does he know?” Win scoffed, prickling with anger as she pushed herself up to look Gator in the eye.

“You’re a winner,” she breathed, her lips pressing to his jaw before moving to his cheek.  “You’re my winner,” she echoed, kissing the shell of his ear.

“You’re my fuckin’ winner,” she whispered fiercely before her mouth found his and Gator let out a groan.

“Winnie—“

She hummed, continuing to press soft kisses to his face and neck.

“How are you so perfect?”

Win finally pulled back, resting her cheek against his shoulder.  “I’m not.”

Gator shook his head, looking down at her.  “You are to me.”

“Maybe you just deserve to be treated better than you have been,” she said, stroking his cheek as she laid back down, resting her face against his shoulder.

“Yeah, maybe,” Gator murmured, growing quiet.

After several minutes Win began to wonder if he’d already drifted off, silence filling her bedroom until he suddenly spoke, shifting beneath her.

“Why’d you leave Chicago?”

Win sighed.  She’d been waiting for him to bring it up ever since their dinner at the ranch.

“Too many memories,” she murmured, shutting her eyes and trying to focus only on him – the beat of his heart beneath her ear, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath he took, the warmth of his skin against hers.

“Bad memories?”

Win shook her head, breathing deep.  “Some bad, but mostly good memories turned bitter,” she explained.

“What happened?” Gator asked, the fingers of his good hand tracing idle shapes against her back.

“My mom died when I was fourteen, and about six months later my dad was already engaged to someone else.  I don’t know for sure, but I think he must have been having an affair with her while my mom was dying,” Win murmured, wincing at the thought.  

“So when they got married, we moved into her house and as soon as we got there, she dropped any pretense that she wanted anything to do with me, and her daughter, Delilah, treated me like absolute shit.  It was like she took joy in going out of her way to hurt me.  It was a fucking cliche, like right out of some stupid fucking fairy tale,” she scoffed, brows furrowing at the memory.

“And the worst part was, half the time my dad was fucking clueless to it and the other half, he didn’t have the balls to actually stand up for me.  So, when I turned eighteen, I left–moved in with some friends, couch surfed sometimes, had some bad relationships I stayed in even when I shoulda got out, all to stay out of that fucking house,” she explained, deflating, her voice wavering.

“So, uhm, now all those good memories I had with my mom and even my dad before she died, they’re all overshadowed by that bullshit,” she finished, squeezing her eyes shut and taking a shuddering breath.

Gator frowned, squeezing Win tighter to his side.  “I’ll arrest ‘em if you want.  All three of ‘em,” he offered, half serious, but it made Win smile, wrinkling her nose in amusement.

“I think that’s a little out of your jurisdiction, Deputy,” she teased, propping her chin against his chest, her eyes finding his.

“Hey, I’m the law, remember, sweetheart?” he said, his lips twisting in a lazy smirk.

“How could I forget?” Win chuckled, her chest feeling lighter.  “Okay, now it’s your turn,” she said, scooting closer, her forehead resting against Gator’s stubbled cheek.

“My turn for what?” he asked, his voice growing heavy with exhaustion.

“To tell me something,” she answered, tracing the dip of his collarbone.

“What kind of something?  Like a secret?”

“Mhmm,” Win hummed, her eyes fluttering shut.

“A secret, huh?” Gator mused, thinking.  “Okay, I’ve got one.  You know that time you blew me to get out of a ticket?” he asked and Win frowned hesitantly.

“Uh huh–” she breathed.

“Well, I may have fibbed a little about turning my dash cam off,” he admitted, bracing himself.

Win’s mouth fell open and she pushed herself upright.  “Gator!” she yelped, gaping at him.  “You fuckin’ liar!” she gasped, swatting at his chest, though she didn’t know why she was surprised.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself!” he exclaimed, holding up his hands against her half hearted attack, trying not to laugh at the scandalized expression on her face.

“Please at least tell me no one else has seen it!” 

“Just me, I swear!” Gator insisted.  “I have the only copy,” he assured her, and Win calmed somewhat, though she wasn’t exactly mad at him.

“You better not be lying this time, Tillman,” she huffed, jabbing a finger in his face.

“Cross my heart,” he replied, making an X motion over his chest and Win rolled her eyes, though a small smile played at her lips.

“You jerk off to it?” she asked, letting him pull her back down to the bed with him.

“More times than I can count.  I love seein’ you on your knees for me,” he drawled, grinning smugly when a thought occurred to him.  “Did you enjoy it?  That first time?” he asked, sobering slightly, and Win hid her face against his chest, feeling warm.

“I might’ve,” she admitted, clearing her throat.  “I thought you were a prick back then, but I couldn’t exactly deny you had a nice cock.”

Gator beamed at her praise, his smirk returning as Win settled into his arms, stifling a yawn that set Gator’s jaw cracking as well.

“I didn’t get to ask earlier, but how was your day?” he asked through his yawn, curling around her.

Win hummed as she thought back over what had happened, fighting the haze of exhaustion that tugged at her.  

“Mmm, it was alright, nothing too special, oh wait–” she said, remembering the strange man that had come into the bar, Moonk.

“There was this weird guy at work, though–foreign or something–wore a kilt and talked in the third person,” she murmured, not noticing Gator tense beside her.

“He say anything to you?” Gator demanded and the edge to his question finally alerted Win that something was off.

“I mean, a little.  It was like he was speaking in riddles though, it didn’t really make a lot of sense.  Mostly he just stared at me across the room–”

“Win, if he ever comes in again, or you see him somewhere, you need to call to me right away, and stay the fuck away from him,” Gator exclaimed, cutting her off and it was Win’s turn to tense, the alarm in Gator’s voice chilling her.

“You know him?  Is he dangerous?” she asked and Gator grimaced, realizing he’d have to tell her more than he wanted to.

“He… he’s wanted for… home invasion, kidnapping, and assault,” he listed, trying not to stray too far from the truth, but also not wanting to alarm Win any further, or reveal how he really knew Munch.

“Oh shit,” Win breathed.  “I bet that’s how he got that gash in his ear,” she mused.

“Just promise me you’ll call me if you see him again,” Gator repeated, unconsciously holding her tighter, as if that were enough to protect her.

“I promise,” Win assured him, squeezing him back, though she couldn’t help but feel there was something he wasn’t telling her.

“Good,” Gator breathed, burying his face in her hair.  

Cause if he touches you, he’s a dead man.

⇾ taglist. @sailorskunk, @heartbreak-sandwich, @super-unpredictable98, @tangerinesteve, @girlwiththerubyslippers, @cycat4077 , @thecreelhouse

[heartfullofleeches]

Make a lady yan who has all the worst traits of the others. We need more nasty women I would do anything for an irredeemable shithead of a lady. She’s got V’s unrepentant nastiness, or maybe Amyas’ wet cat energy, Devlin’s chaos gremlin energy, Milk Tea’s immoral dom energy, Eggnog’s adorable creep energy, I could go on for so long but the main point is lady yan with the nasty traits people usually don’t give lady characters because I will simp so hard and build her an altar in my closet 🫶 heavy are the hips that wear the strap or whatever the saying is and I am willing to support those hips 🥰

(Combining the traits of the first three, meet our lovely queen of nasty Calliope) [mentions of violence, death]

Ah...

What's she doing out here again? Alone in a big scary alleyway, with a complete stranger no less. She's reminded of her torment and mission as she thinks back to the other day - the happy memory of catching you out by yourself ruined by this....thing. Laughing at every passive comment you made, clinging to your arm like you were already date. How desperate could a person be? Then they had to go and actually ask you out. And you said yes. She nearly lost her lunch on the spot. Why do the confident people get everything in life....

"Can we please wrap this up?.. I got get back inside and I have somewhere to be soon."

Right. Calliope swallows her non-existent pride and relaxes her fists in her pockets. There was still a chance. Every now and then there were the "good" ones. People who took pity on those like her if they sucked up enough. All she had to do was look weak, which was easier said than done despite her appearance. Think, think.. She thinks about what will happen if she doesn't. Your first day with it. It holding your hand, kissing you on the cheek, getting to watch you undress before bed.

"U-um... I overheard you asking someone out the other day and I-I was wondering if you... If you wouldn't mind letting me try my chances with them first!!"

The stranger grimaces, looking at her like a carcass on the side of the road - then anywhere but. It's too obvious. Her teeth chatter too loudly for the quivering of her lips to be noticed. Her eyes are too sunken and heavy with depravation to pull off that cutesy big eyed look. She's too pathetic for even this to work. Go figure.

"Look.. I get that this is hard, but I really like them too. I'm sure you'll find someone else who's right for you."

Right for her? There's nobody better for her than you. She picked you out as her only before you first spoke to each other - given you hadn't even done that yet. This fucker doesn't know what it's like. It probably wasn't even love at first sight like it was for Calliope. Either way it was clear they weren't going to give you up. And yet....

"Please! I need them! You don't know what my life will be like if I have to see them with someone else!"

The stranger, obviously taken aback as she latches on their arm tries to shove her off. Her fingers imprint on their skin as she twists their wrist. "Get off of me!"

"Please! Just one chance! I can make my confession better. I'm better for them than you'll ever be!"

"Get off!"

Wrangling free of her increasing grip, the stranger pushes Calliope as hard and far away from them as they can - air flying from her chest as she hits the brick way behind her. Winding, she slides to the filthy alley street - the weight in her pocket dragging her down. She clutches her side with her right hand. That hurt. There's stars in her vision. Tears too. It's not fair.

The panic and agitation on the stranger's face contorts as the water works start. Calliope ugly sobs into the open air, not carrying for the attention she was drawing to herself. She wails and pulls her knees into her chest as she shrinks against the wall. They cautiously step towards her which makes her flinch.

"Please don't hurt me.."

"Take it easy. I wasn't going to."

They offer her their hand. She takes it as she stands, hair falling over her eyes.

"That's a real shame."

She pulls her left hand out of her pocket, producing a rusty hammer.

"Cuz I was planning on hurting you from the start."

Calliope stomps down on their foot as it hits them. Head side up, she brings the hammer down on their skull; glee bubbling within her as the wet thunk rings throughout the vacant passage way. The stranger staggers backwards. Calliope jumps in place, taunting them by beckoning them forward. When they don't move she advances, steadies her arm - and strikes again, aiming closer to their eye socket.

Her body is so jittery she misses her mark, but she still gets a good blow to their upper cheek. They spit blood, flesh discolored from the bursted vessels in their face. Grinning from ear to ear, speckles of crimson spray across her lips and teeth, even hitting her tongue as she drawn back with maniacal shriek of laughter. She head butts then for the next attack, nose crunching from the weight behind it. As their legs start to wobble, Calliope takes the burden off them by sweeping them and pouncing on them once they fall. Unable to defend, she unleashes bow after blow. Rant after rant between her manic giggles.

"You."

Crack.

"Fucking."

Slam.

"Idiot! Did you really think I was going to let you win?!? They're mine. Mine!"

She hits them over and over, long after their twitching had stopped. There isn't a face anymore. Just broken shards of bone sticking through the pink, fleshy meat once enclosed in their head. Just meat. That's all it ever was, and would be. Calliope gets out a few more chuckles before she gets up. She starts to walk off when a phone chimes from somewhere. She grabs it from the coat on the ground. It's you, checking up whoever it belonged to. She's sure they're fine. There were more important matters at hand to be dealt with first.

"All good. What are you wearing tonight?;)"

[dira333]

Passing Peonies - Post War Touya Todoroki - Part V

When the war ended, Midoriya Izuku had proven one thing: That Villains did not need to be killed to be defeated. That you could make friends from enemies.

Touya Todoroki, formerly known as Dabi, had been one of those taken into the rehabilitation program. After one year of intense physical and psychological therapy, he's got the chance to prove himself. To prove that he can be a part of this world.

Complete fic length: 30.600 words - Masterlist

Warnings: poor mental health and resentment against past actions is mentioned, burn scars etc. as well. There is angst but this is mostly soft Touya coming back to his family...

Part 5: (2k words)

“I have to say something.” Touya says and watches his therapist.

After more than a year of this he should be able to read him as well as the other way around, right? But he still comes up empty, day after day.

“I’m falling in love with my employer.”

“Go on.” 

And it’s like that first time at your apartment, the worlds spilling from his lips like molten cheese, the first word pulling the second and third with it, and so on and so forth.

🌺.

“Hey, can we buy these?” He asks at the convenience store, pointing at a shelf of browning ZZ and pancake plants. 

“If you want.” Fuyumi shrugs. “It’s your money.”

“Yeah, yeah. They’re not gonna die, don’t worry. If anything, I’m saving their life.”

“Whatever you say. Hey, you mind eating Curry again tonight?”

“Nah. But you could show me how to do it. I wouldn’t mind helping out with cooking.”

Fuyumi throws him a look he chooses to ignore, content on placing the plants inside the cart.

🌺.

“Be careful with the stems.” He tells Natsuo. “Don’t break them.”

“It’s not that easy, you fucker.” His brother curses. “How the fuck do you tie these ribbons? Is that witchcraft?”

“No, it’s a skill and you’re lacking it. If you can’t do it, let me. Just make sure there’s plant food in the water or the roses won’t keep fresh as long.

“Yeah, yeah. I just wanted to cut some flowers for Mom, not a lecture.”

“Be honest, you wanted both.”

🌺.

“You’re home late.” He says when Shouto drags himself inside. “Have you eaten anything today?”

“I had Soba.” His brother mentions and drapes himself over a chair as he starts taking off his uniform.

“I’m making you a grilled cheese. Miso soup too. You need to eat properly.”

“Thanks.” He hears a quiet mumble and so much more that’s left unsaid.

🌺.

His mother finds him outside, reading a book and taking samples of the earth around the garden, rubbing it between his fingers and sniffing it.

“Are you having fun?” She asks and places a pitcher of homemade lemonade and two glasses on the table, taking a seat to watch him work.

“It’s a shame we have mainly grass lawn, mom.” He explains to her, surprised by his own eagerness, his own growing interest. “If we planted bushes and flowers and expand on the diversity of plants, we could help foster not only bees but different types of butterflies and birds.”

“That does sound appealing. Why don’t you talk to your father about it?”

She smiles until her eyes reach a stump.

“I wish he would do something about that tree,” Rei tells him flatly. “It just wakes sad memories.”

He turns to look at the tree stump, surprised that it takes a moment to realize what she’s talking about.

He’d been about 9 years old, and when attacking Shouto did not work, he’d burned down that tree in a fit of rage, knowing exactly how much that tree meant to his parents, as they had been wed under it, in a time when they must have been happy, or as happy as they could have been.

🌺.

“Why’d you never take out the tree?” He asks his father one night after dinner, the two of them alone in the kitchen.

“The same reason I will always carry these scars, even if they could be healed.” He points to the scarring on his face. “It serves as a reminder, a call to change, to protect what I have with the right means.”

“But you could plant a new tree.” He looks out into the garden, pondering it. “Or plant them around it. As if they’d hug it.”

“I’ll think about it. Or better, I’ll let you think about it. If you have a proposal on how to change the garden, you can come to me with it and we’ll go over it.”

“Or you could just let me do it. It’s my job after all.”

“Oh?” Enji raises his eyebrows in a challenge. “You’re feeling up to this?”

“Absolutely!”

“Well, it’s settled then. How long do you need?”

“A day. I’ve got the plan mostly ready anyway, I just need the right weather and a free day to get it all together.”

“Great. You should have both this weekend. Your mother and I will be out of the house anyway, as I’ve booked an onsen for a weekend getaway. You can convince your siblings to leave you alone if you need them out of the house. You can have my credit card to purchase what you need.”

“The limitless one?”

Enji smiles. “Let’s not go overboard, we don’t need flowers made from diamonds.”

🌺.

It’s Sunday morning, barely past 9 a.m. and he’s already sweating bullets. 

He’d thought that being able to sweat again would be a good thing - at least considering how well his skin grafts took to integrating into his body - but now he just feels plain disgusting. The garden looks like an absolute disaster after more than three hours going at it.

He’d started planting the tulips, realized that he wanted a peony bush in the middle of it, and had to dig some of them back out. 

The stone path he’d wanted to relocate is now a heap of dirty stones in one corner and he’d managed to knock over the bag of fertilizer, spilling its contents everywhere.

He feels himself getting frustrated. And tired. This work is harder than he’d imagined it to be.

-

He decides to take a breather, regretting not talking the plan through with you yesterday when he’d had the chance. Just because he’d wanted to surprise you with the news on Monday, telling you proudly how great everything had worked out.

He ponders the problem from the kitchen sink, his second glass of water in hand. 

Hawks and Natsuo could be used as backup muscle, but he doubts they’d come willingly.

Shouto’s on patrol and Fuyumi’s out visiting a friend. 

What he really needs is someone who’d give him direction while letting him do his thing at the same time. What he really needs is you and while he’d never missed a Friday night, he’d kept his distance, or at least tried to, in the weeks since that night.

He knows it’s a good thing. That doesn’t mean he has to like it.

You pick up after the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Hi. Remember how you said I could call you if I ever had a plant emergency?”

“Of course. What’s the matter?”

“That’s the thing. I got free reign on redesigning our garden and it’s… well, it’s looking a bit awful right now.”

“Just a bit? That’s good news then.” He can hear you moving in the background.

“Very funny. I know today’s your free day but would you mind taking a look? I promise you won’t have to work, you can just sit back on the terrace and tell me what I have to do.”

“It’s no problem, Touya-kun. Just tell me your address.”

-

He realizes, probably five seconds before you ring the bell, that you might have no idea how rich the Todorokis really are. 

But if you feel out of place in your scuffed-up trainers and grass-stained clothes, you’re not letting it show.

Touya explains his plan to you while he shows you the garden, pointing out what he’s already done and what he still has to do.

You nod and nod, look around and pinch the earth just like he’d done and he feels a little proud that he’d copied you without knowing.

Finally, you step up to him and point at the heap of stones.

“You wash them and put them where you want them. After that you take on one part of the garden after the other, minimizing trampling over done work. You’re a little early on the tulips but they should do well. Peonies are a bit risky at this spot and the way you’re planning it, you’re leaving no spot behind to actually use the garden.”

“Use it?” He blinks. “What do you mean?”

“Do you always sit on the terrace? Or do you sit on the lawn too?”

“Well, we used to play outside as children but we’ve grown out of that. I don’t know if Mom still sits outside.”

“Okay, that’s just as well. You just have to be aware of everyone’s needs if you plan for a whole family. What will you do about the tree?”

He should have known you would notice it the second you stepped outside. 

Even if you only point it out now he can tell you’re affected by it. He sighs.

“It burned down when I was about 9. Mom says it makes her sad and my father wants to keep it as a reminder. I… well, I wanted to plant things around it, so that it would seem like the plants would hug it, maybe?”

“Why?”

Your eyes are on him, your question digging deeper than he thought it could.

“When I… When I…” He coughs and tries again. “When I… almost died… at the war… I remember coming to, waking up to my family hugging me, as if they were holding me together, keeping me in one piece. I like that picture.”

You hum. 

“So now we know what your mother wants, what your father wants, and what you want. What about your siblings?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

“You said that you felt like Touya had to die for Dabi to live and Dabi had to die for Touya to live but for your family, they were always one and the same. It’s the same with the tree, isn’t it? Whether it stays or it goes, it seems dead to all of you. Have you ever thought of the possibility of it being still alive?”

Touya knows, in theory, that you’re still talking about the tree. But it feels like you’re talking about him.

Has he ever thought of the possibility of himself being alive? 

-

You kneel down in front of the stump and hug it, your cheek resting on the place where it had been cut down. 

It feels personal, like you’re hugging him and you’re not hugging him until you’re starting to hum, a tune he’s heard so often he can hear himself tune in.

Under your arms the tree stump glows faintly until it grows and grows, two thick stems rising up and pushing your face away, entwining and circling each other, growing up and up and up. They’re the height of a bush, a person, taller now than the first tree had been, its foliage a friendly green that smiles down at him.

You sink to the floor next to it and he’s too slow to catch you, can only pick you up and carry you inside, your sleeping form fitting too well into his arms.

-

He washes the stones and places them, thinking about himself at age 9. He finishes his display of tulips and peonies and thinks about himself, waking up from a coma.

With every flower bulb he plants, and every bush he places, he thinks about the past.

It’s therapeutic, in a way, to feel himself come alive in this place.

He’d wondered if this was growing into a new obsession, but could it be an obsession when it feels so healthy?

By the time you step back out, he’d started placing the plants he wants to “hug” their family tree.

“Sleep well?” Touya asks when you kneel down next to him and dig your hands into the dirt.

“I’ve never been able to grow a tree in one sitting.” You explain to him, your voice soft. “But it wanted to grow.”

“Yeah.” He looks up at the foliage. “He’s been waiting for his chance long enough.”

“What are you going to name it?”

Toya looks at the two stems that are intertwined now. “Enji and Rei.”

You smile. “That’s a good name.”

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[nobedofroses]

The Garden of Eden, Part III

Summary: Din Djarin x sex worker!fem!reader. You aren’t accepting clients on the day celebrating love, but can you really say no to the Mandalorian?

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: reader is a sex worker, discussions of sex work, smut (18+): grinding, nipple play, unprotected p-in-v sex

A/N: part three 10 months later! that being said, this should be viewed as vignettes into some of their interactions with an overarching theme rather than a narrative plot lmao if that makes sense. They just wanna be horny on fake Valentine’s Day, but happy real Valentine’s Day to all of youuu 💘

Part I, Part II, Directory

(self explanatory hot gif)

⫸⫸⫸

The planet on which the Garden of Eden was located had an annual holiday celebrating love. It celebrated any type of love; familial, romantic, platonic, and any other kind you could think of. Not as big as other holidays, it didn’t have planet-wide festivals, but there were decorations, markets, and food devoted to it. 

It also happened to be one of the only days during the year that you elected not to work. You hadn’t grown up with the holiday, but it was so sweet that you adopted it as your own. Besides, you knew all of your clients should be spending it with their loved ones instead of you, the fuckers. 

Some of the other courtesans also took the day off to celebrate and take part in the festivities. But other than getting some of the specialty food and drinks to take back with you to your room, you liked to spend the day by yourself. You treated it as time to get back in touch with yourself and do any kind of self-care that took longer than you typically had time for. Essentially an entire day when you could just love yourself. 

About midday, you were moisturizing after your long bath when you heard a light knock on your door followed by a moor decisive but short one. Thinking maybe one of your regulars had sent you a gift (not unusual), you slipped on a short satin robe and opened the door to find Lilas and Lys standing in your doorway. Lilas looked unsure and Lys the exact opposite; you always found it funny that they had become so close, but Lys was protective and Lilas accepted their infrequent verbal communication, knowing how to understand them in other ways. But they were empty handed. 

Quirking an eyebrow, you leaned your hip against the doorframe, “You both know I’m not taking any clients today. Madame knows too.” 

“Yes, it’s just that…” Lilas trailed off, looking to Lys for assistance, who rolled their eyes fondly and continued, “It’s Mando.” 

Immediately all of the nerves in your body perked up. Whenever you knew he was near you couldn’t help your reaction. Hell, you were already starting to get a little bit wet. But today was your day. The reason you didn’t take clients was your own, and what would it mean if you made an exception? But it was Mando. 

For others, you wouldn’t even consider it, but with him… there was a bond, an understanding there that you didn’t have with any other client. Any other person. 

Since you preferred to avoid thinking about the emotional aspect, your mind wandered to the physical, how he made you feel better than anyone else had. Better than you could yourself most of the time. Maybe letting him visit you, letting him make you feel good was an act of self-love in and of itself. Maybe— 

“We already told him it was a long shot. We can go tell him no,” Lilas rushed out, taking your long silence for a rejection of the idea. 

“No, um, you can tell him yes, but he has to wait thirty minutes,” you shifted, thinking about how you wanted to get ready for him if this was actually happening. 

“Extra?” Lys asked and you met their eyes quickly. There was a small warning in their gaze and you nodded, grateful for the reminder. 

“Yeah, same as the wake-up cost. Can you tell him?”

They nodded and you smiled briefly before the two walked away and you shut the door. You slumped against the door, instantly starting to question whether you should have done that or not. 

But then you straightened. You didn’t have time for that. If you were going to take your time and get ready for him the way you wanted to get ready for him, you needed to start now. 

___

Thirty minutes later, Din was being escorted upstairs and to your room. He hadn’t known about Love Day; it seemed like planets he visited were always having one sort of celebration or another. So he was surprised that you weren’t accepting clients. And then more surprised that you accepted him. If you had taken the day off, he figured you would be spending it with someone special. But apparently you had been alone. Not that you weren’t special all by yourself. 

Times like these were when he was happy he didn’t speak very much because fuck that was awkward. 

When the courtesans knocked on the door, Lilas and Lys if he was remembering correctly, you told them it was open. Lys pushed it open and the two of them gave him a once-over as he walked past. He was used to being the intimidating one with all of his armor and weapons, but something told him those two were to be feared. 

He entered the room and noticed all the differences to how it was normally. Everything was blanketed in a soft, peachy glow, and instead of the larger light in the ceiling, there were a couple lamps dimmed with scarves over their shades and a few candles. 

The room also smelled like you. Or the fragrance you wore. It wasn’t overpowering, but stronger than it was normally when you had only put it on yourself. Din glanced around the room, finally noticing you on the cushy chair you never seemed to be sitting in. You had been observing him like he had been observing your room. There wasn’t much of an expression on your face, like you were waiting for his reaction and would adjust your response based on that. You were a professional, after all. 

He gestured around the room, “Is this permanent? Or is it for… Love Day?” 

You smiled at his awkwardness and shook your head, “This is what I do when I have a day to myself. Makes it feel different than just where I do my work.” 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I’ll pay double,” he told you quickly. 

You smiled again, humming, “That could be good.” 

He was cute, always, but especially when he was being generous and kind. 

You stood then, and could tell even with the helmet and visor that he was looking you up and down. Having traded in your satin robe for a sheer mesh one with lacy edges, he could clearly see the pink lingerie underneath. A see-through corset and a flouncy skirt that did not hide the fact that you weren’t wearing underwear underneath. 

“Is that— is it a traditional Love Day outfit?” he asked, his voice coming out even raspier than normal. It was hard to tell with all the armor and padding, but you were pretty sure you could see his hard-on already. 

“Mmm, maybe more traditional for those that celebrate Lust Day instead,” you said with a giggle, walking over to him to lead him to the bed since he seemed to have forgotten that was where he should be heading. 

Once he was at the edge, he remembered himself and started reaching for the scarf he kept for you. But you put your hand on his arm and said, “I want a different one. You start with the armor while I grab it.” 

He normally didn’t take any armor off until you were blindfolded, but Din reasoned that there was nothing wrong with you seeing the flight suit underneath. While he worked on his vambraces, you went over to a lamp, switched it off, and grabbed the scarf from over top. As long as the light in the room wasn’t tricking him, it was pink as well, but darker than the candy pink of your lingerie. 

You held out the scarf to him and he didn’t bother inspecting it for sheerness, completely trusting that you understood how important it was to him for you not to see his face. 

The familiar feeling of him tying the scarf around your eyes made your body flush with warmth and you sighed, excited for what was to come. Instead of moving to the middle of the bed, though, you just sat on the edge and waited. 

By the lack of armor-removal sounds coming from the mandalorian, you could tell he was confused, so you thought you should enlighten him, “Love Day is my day for myself, so I want to do it my way today.”

You didn’t ask if it was okay or try to negotiate, you just told him what you wanted and waited for his reply. If he really didn’t want to, you would do it his way, but you would be disappointed in some deep way that you didn’t know would mend. 

Three seconds went by before his voice came out clear, “Your way.” 

Relieved and so excited, you couldn’t help but beam and bounce up and down on the bed a little bit, urging him on to, “hurry up and get undressed!” 

He chuckled, amused by your eagerness, and also spurred on by it. While he liked being in control and often felt he had to be to protect his creed, he was excited to see what exactly your way was. 

Once he was undressed, he reached for one of your hands and held it to let you know he was ready. With another smile at the warmth of his skin, you stood and exchanged places with him, briefly running your free hand along his side to feel his muscles and little soft rounded tummy. 

“Get in the middle of the bed, Mando,” you told him, and if there was ever a time that Din wanted you to know his name it was now. But he held his tongue, knowing that would open a door that should stay bolted shut. 

You let go of his hand so he could move and were glad to hear him shifting around, clear evidence that he could follow orders. Once the sounds stopped, you climbed on the bed as well, finding his legs and straddling him at the hips, not quite lined up where you knew his already hard cock was. He could wait a little bit longer, you wanted to drag this out. 

He didn’t move to touch you and at first you were surprised until you realized he was waiting for you to tell him and you were very, very pleased. 

“Touch me, Mando. But only over the lingerie,” you told him in a voice equal parts sweet and stern. 

Din’s hands came to your waist over the corset and he brushed his thumbs in a wide arc, just barely skimming the undersides of your breasts. You shivered and he smiled in satisfaction; he always loved to see how his touch made you feel. 

He could see your nipples harden through the translucent pink and his mouth watered, wanting to hear the little moans you made whenever he sucked on them deep. But he settled for touching them in teasing circles, before gently scratching his short nail over the peak. Your muscles jerked at the sensation and you gasped, your hands moving to his shoulders to try and stabilize yourself. 

His cock was hard between the two of you and while you weren’t touching him he swore he could feel the damp heat emanating from your cunt. The fabric of the little “skirt” you were wearing brushed his cock whenever you shifted and if Din wasn’t careful, that could be enough to undo him. 

He ran his fingers down to the hem of the corset and tugged on it, “Did you buy this?” 

“Why? Are you jealous?” you smirked. But after a couple seconds of him not answering, you kept on since you possibly shouldn’t know whether he was jealous anyway, “I did, wanted something nice all to myself. Can’t wear something this expensive with clients or it’ll get ruined.” 

Din didn’t want to remind you that he was a client and risk you hiding the lingerie away, so he rested his hands on your waist and said, “Did you wear it all day?”

“Mmm, no, I’ve been relaxing, sleeping in, taking a bath. I was just getting ready and was gonna invite some of the others to my room to watch some shows and maybe fool around a bit. Or just cuddle, who knows,” you mused, getting a little distracted by what your plans might have been.

Mando shifted underneath you and you raised a brow underneath the blindfold, “Do you like that? Would you ever want someone to join us?” 

Immediately, Din shook his head, and then told you, “No, I don’t like to share.” 

The steely edge in his voice sent a thrill down your spine and you made a little moaning sound before telling him, “More, touch me more. Anywhere.” 

He used his hands on your waist to pull up closer and then arch your back, leaning forward so he could mouth at your nipples through the fabric. Something about him being too eager or too obedient to take off the lingerie made you very hot and you wanted his cock, now. 

You tried reaching underneath you to palm him, but the way he had maneuvered your body meant your arm wasn’t long enough. But you really didn’t want to stop him from what he was doing to your breasts because it felt so good. Finally, you decided that you could wait for his cock if he was touching your clit instead. 

So you put one hand over his where it was on your waist and started guiding it down between your legs, saying, “Here too. Want you to make me so wet I don’t even need your fingers to stretch me first.” 

Din moaned around your nipple, fingers sliding through your wet folds and thinking you must be nearly to that point already. But he dutifully found your clit with his thumb, the rest of his fingers and palm splayed out possessively over your mound. 

Soon you were moaning in earnest, your hips trying to rock against his hand without accidentally pulling your breasts from his mouth. It was the best dilemma to have, and would have gladly came that way, moaning encouragement and telling Mando how fucking good he was making you feel. 

But when Din felt your wetness drip onto his cock, he couldn’t stand it any longer. He had been hard and leaking precum practically since he had seen your lingerie, and now he needed your pussy. 

He pulled back after one more soft bite to your nipple and used his now free hand (since it was no longer holding your breast exactly how he wanted for access) down to his cock, stroking himself in time to the circles he was rubbing on your clit. 

His breath was heavy, but his tone was determined when he said, “You’re ready now.” 

You could hear the sound of his hand on his cock and got instantly jealous, moving down quick enough that he couldn’t stop you from pushing his hand away when you found it and grabbing his cock yourself. The thick weight of his cock felt just right in your hand, and you knew it felt even better in your pussy. You lowered your hips until his tips brushed against your lips and then started swiping it through your folds to get it wet, your free hand braced on his shoulder for support. 

“Gonna ride— oh fuck,” you moaned as his tip pressed against your clit, “ride you, Mando. Till you fill me with your hot cum.” 

He moaned, his hands on your ass now, squeezing and feeling you up to keep from pulling you down onto his cock. 

“Do you want that, Mando?” 

“Yeah, fuck,” he groaned, hips starting to move up towards your because he needed to be inside of you. 

“T-tell me.” You were torturing yourself as much as him, but you wanted to see just how much he would do whatever you told him. The thought that there might not be a limit made more slick drip down onto his cock. 

He hesitated, moaning instead when you twisted your wrist as you stroked him, but even his pretty moans weren’t enough. “I said, ‘tell me,’” you told him firmly, pressing your nails into his shoulder briefly as a reminder. 

“I want you— dammit,” he cursed as you started lining up his tip with your entrance, hoping you would be able to let him push in if he just said it right, but the soaking warmth distracted him. “Want you to ride my cock.” 

You smiled big and bright, but it quickly melted away into a gasp of pleasure as you sunk down quickly on his cock, taking him all the way to the hilt. 

“Fuck, fuck me,” Din said under his breath, feeling like he was fucking you for the first time again. Which would really not be great since that had only lasted a minute and he wanted this to last forever. 

“I know, just getting, oh, just getting used to how big you are when I’m on top,” you told him, misinterpreting his quiet curse. 

All that did was make him moan again, and he couldn’t help but using his hands on your ass to try and get you to move. If you didn’t move, he might lose his mind.

Now that his cock was fully inside you, you put both hands on his shoulders to brace yourself and started rocking on his cock. Since you were still getting used to the stretch and just how fucking deep he was inside of you at this angle, you didn’t lift off of him very much, just grinding your hips forward and back, fucking yourself about an inch on and off his cock in the process. 

You thought about apologizing for not doing more, but all that came out of your mouth was a breathy moan as somehow his cock was pressing against all the best spots inside of you and the base was grinding against your clit at the same time. You did it again and then again in rapid succession, losing focus on everything that wasn’t his cock. 

Din couldn’t believe his view. Without any guidance or even words from him, you were practically humping his cock, over and over again, letting out these little whines and whimpers that had him throbbing inside of you. He couldn’t see your eyes, but based on the way your head was slightly tilted back and your senseless moans, he would guess that they were rolling back in your head. Oh and fuck, your mouth had been open to make all these sounds, and you were just starting to drool, a nearly overwhelming juxtaposition to how hard you were riding his cock. 

He pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth, an open mouthed kiss to get the spit from your skin, and that was enough to ignite another desire in you. You turned your head to catch his lips and kissed him, and Din was more than happy to absorb all your little sobs. Your kisses were artless, just warm presses of your mouth against his, but Din loved them, loved that you were so fucked out on his cock that you were breaking one of his unspoken rules to only kiss once after sex because apparently you just wanted to that bad. 

After a bit, though, you got too overwhelmed for even that and pulled away to drop your forehead to his shoulder, whining and crying in his ear, “Mando— Mando—” 

With all his attention focused on you, Din hadn't realized how close he was, how fucked out he was too, and before he could even begin to think better, he told you, “Call me Din.” 

Even in your dazed state, you knew what he meant, that Din was his name. The excitement you felt to know it outweighed any coherent thought over whether he should’ve told you, and you said to him, “Oh, Din, I think I’m gonna— Din!”

It was like just saying his real name was enough to make you cum, and you did, fucking yourself with the same short, deep thrusts that kept his thick cock buried inside of you as you clenched around it, covering him in another coat of slick. The pleasure of your high shot through your entire body, sending bursts of heat and desire through all of your nerves and all of your senses until your voice broke and your thighs shook, slowly coming to a stop because you no longer had the strength to keep going. 

It wasn’t until you lifted your head to offer him a kiss and an apology that you needed a second to recover before you could start fucking him again, your body shifting with the movement and revealing a stickier mess between your legs and up inside you that you even realized Din had cum at the same time. You figured out what had happened with a breathy laugh, understanding that one of the waves of warmth that had gone through your cunt hadn’t just been your orgasm, but his. 

That’s when you felt how heavy he was breathing too, and heard his little fucked out moans, your senses too overloaded to have heard the minute before. 

You still weren’t quite back to normal, but you wrapped your arms around his neck and settled yourself more perfectly on his cock, making him whine just a little. You kept from trying to get him to make that perfect sound again by reminding yourself that your legs were absolute jelly, and leaned in to kiss him instead. 

It was relatively short, both you just remembering how to breathe, but sweet and tender like he always was. 

You smiled, kissed his cheek, and said, “Din, I like it.” 

Despite himself, he blushed and grinned shyly, glad you couldn’t see. He tried to think of something clever to say but all that came out of his mouth was, “I like you.” 

A smile unlike any other filled your face and you moved your hand until you found his jaw and brushed your thumb over the grown out stubble that was there, that you loved feeling on your thighs. “I like you too. Can you stay a couple hours?”

Your hope was that the quick transition to logistics would prevent any awkwardness or realizations of being in too deep. 

It seemed to work, as Din chuckled, ducked his head so his nose could nudge at your neck and inhale your scent before asking, “Why? Already want me to fuck you again?”

Your chest got warm with slight embarrassment but even more excitement when you realized his dick was already starting to harden again. You did your best to answer his question, “Well, y-yes, but I also wanted to– oh—” but you got cut off as he deftly maneuvered himself to be kneeling, using the inertia of the motion to get you on your back below him, all the while keeping his cock pressed deep inside you. 

“You were saying?” Din asked, nipping at your pulse point and just barely starting to rock his hips against you. 

“W-was I?” you asked breathily, the smooth slide of his cock fucking away all coherent thought. 

“You were. I think you were about to say that this time, you want to do it my way,” he murmured, his deep, resonant voice washing warm tingles over your skin. 

“Yes, Din,” was your quick reply, earning a snap of his hips into you that made your pussy tighten and breath stutter. You hoped he could stay all day.

⫷⫷⫷