#he is firmly in the top of all of my cards

[okkotsuus]

crawlin' back to you (rensuke k.) !

features: rensuke k.

contents: established relationship. spoilers (second selection). a smidge of comfort. cliff hanger because i hate you <3

notes: hey lol, kinda bad because i have to get back into my flow state iykyk

The Blue Lock program: a selection meant to hone 300 high school kids down to 1 legendary striker.

When you sent off Rensuke with a kiss and soft murmurs of your certainty of his success, you never thought that it would end you up here. Sitting on your couch, doing some calculus homework while watching the U-20 v. Blue Lock exhibition match.

It stirred a strange feeling in you when you didn't see that familiar head of tousled orange hair even once on the plasma screen in front of you.

Maybe he was just sick? Or he was temporarily injured, so he couldn't play.

Surely.

But, even then...

Wouldn't he have at least been on the bench?

It sent a wave of unease through you, at the thought that something could have happened to divert his lifelong dream. But thinking that way wouldn't solve anything, that was something Rensuke taught you himself: positivity is key.

So, you blindly cheered for Blue Lock, even running laps around the kitchen when they ended up pulling off a win. Those boys were talented, so knowing that Ren was chosen to be with them made you all the more sure of his success.

The program went nearly radio silent for a two week period following the match.

Still no sign of your ginger striker.

Days were long, all your classes felt so much more droning without him sitting at your side. It was beginning to wear on you.

Then, it came as a sudden announcement. The 'Blue Lock: Neo-Egoist League' would be premiering tonight at 3pm JST. All plans were canceled, you were firmly planted on the couch, shooing away your siblings as you clicked onto the waiting screen.

It started with a click, showing all the players gathering into a room with the former Japanese U-20 Team. No Rensuke.

They featured different players as they explained the different stratum they could choose. The five European leagues that dominated the modern soccer world: France, Spain, England, Italy, and Germany.

Watching all the players debate where they wanted to be, the uncertainty of the U-20 Match prodigy: Yoichi Isagi. You were forced on the edge of your seat, knee bouncing idly as you hoped and prayed desperately to see the face of the boy you really needed to see.

Even as they all went their separate ways, still nothing. You were beginning to lose hope. Slowly, your focus began to fade away, half-way actually watching the broadcast.

"Now enter! The lone survivor of the Wild Card program..." Now that, that had your attention. "The last dark horse..."

It couldn't be...

"Rensuke Kunigami!"

There. That's him.

Even under that ruffled, grown-out, carrot top. Even with those darkened, hollow amber eyes. Even with a change in his physique, his gait. You would recognize him in any and every form.

Your Ren, in the flesh.

Tears welled in your eyes as your ears rang, unable to hear anything as you watched his mouth move a few times back and forth with Isagi. Then, they cut to a training exercise.

Something happened to die out the light in his eyes. And guessing by the way Ego introduced him, he was probably intended to have lost and left the program; but he won his way back.

No wonder you hadn't seen him in the exhibition match.

He was suffering trying to claw his way back to his dream, while you were just sitting here moping. Pathetic.

It lit a spark in you. You had to see him, as soon as possible.

Great minds think alike, ego attracts ego; even if it is at the subconscious level.

It took a lot of calls, letters, and video chats. But, within ten days, you were permitted to enter Blue Lock to observe a match between Bastard Munchen and FC Barcha: the first game of the League, under the guise of enhancing Kunigami's morale.

Ego agreed to this deal on the main term that you would not be able to watch the match, nor take any sort of electronic device on your person past the facility doors. Likely, to prevent copyright infringement.

You didn't have to think before agreeing.

In a cold room, surrounded by metal walls, you waited. The game lasted nearly 70 minutes, with which you had nothing to occupy yourself with other than your own mind.

It was another 20 before the doors slid open, the familiar figure of a face you'd come to know as Anri Teieri leading an even more striking form. "In here, Kunigami-san. You have as much time as you need."

You were on your feet in an instant, it was actually him. God, he reeked of sweat and spice. That damned door clicked behind the JFU associate, amber eyes staring stone cold down at you.

"Rensuke, congratulations on your victory." The words spilled from your lips. Yes, you knew him well, that look in his eyes, it was not forlorn in the way you knew he felt after a loss.

"Why are you here."

His words were flat, but it was all a facade. No one in this word knew Rensuke Kunigami quite like you, and no one ever would. "I'm so incredibly proud of you, my hero."

And just this once, for the first time since he walked into that Wild Card door, those broad shoulders of his relaxed.

"Yeah... Yeah, I know you are, sunshine."

© okkotsuus 24 – do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate any of my works to any other platforms.

[swtsupernatural]

S.W || SILK & SHAPESHIFTERS: PT2

Sam Winchester x Thick!Fem!Reader

Content Warning reader being shorter than Sam, reader desc as having thick thighs, dean being annoying, swearing, reader wanting to fuck sam, a bit of sexual tension that is not yet resolved (pls be patient with me)

Summary Fluff, (Sexual tension lowk) strangers to acquaintances to lovers(?) - Posing as Sam Winchester's girlfriend at a charity ball for a hunting case isn't so bad, that is until you have to do actual work. You might kill Dean when you get out of here, and hopefully get your hands on your fake boyfriend.

W.C. 2k words

(Original) Ask anon: A: Hello hello! I'm back again; I'm going to change my request style a bit, how about a female reader with thick thighs? Make her with Sam please

Playlist: ♫ Blue Jeans - Lana Del Rey, Body - Megan Thee Stallion, She's My Collar - Gorillaz

A.N. part 2 finally ! was not expecting winter break to be so busy...more to come so so soon my loves. Also, so sorry to make this into 3 parts I swear im not trying to torture yall - xx claire

Taglist: @callsign-ember @kaiserpoo @lovelymax10

Inside the estate your once flushed face grew even warmer — this time from the heaters, not Sam’s undeniably sexy voice. Past the elegant entrance and wide, old doors was a large ballroom type area with an intricate ceiling that you had to crane your neck up to look at. The thick banners hanging around the room were a deep blue, showing images of marine animals in a chilling climate, most looking disheartened or sad. In swirling letters on the top of each banner read: “Marine Life Fundraiser: 2025” 

“How much you wanna bet they don’t even know half of the animals they’re donating to?” Sam piped up.

“Not a lot. These events are more about having a nice evening in a way too expensive outfit, showing off your very rich, sexy boyfriend/husband or very pretty, young girlfriend/wife, and doing that rich person laugh.”

“I don’t know if we’re being very convincing then.”

“What do you—

Sam snaked his right arm around your waist, the soft velvety fabric of your dress ruffling under his sleek suit. He gripped your firmly but not tightly, his hand gently digging into your soft flesh through your thin dress. He smiled…no, smirked (you weren’t sure) down at you.

“That better, pretty young girlfriend?” Your eyes dilated in seconds and you fought to keep your eyes off of his. 

“Y-yea...” You wanted to groan at how small and bashful your voice sounded, you never stuttered. 

“Can you guys feel up each other after we finish this?” Dean’s husky voice sounded in both of your ears a bit muffled but it startled both of you, making you feel almost compromised. Sam loosened his grip on you only slightly, letting out a sigh from his throat that went over your neck and left an intense tingling feeling.

“You wanted us to play the part,” You muttered to Dean after you flipped on your ear piece, a gentle hand on Sam’s chest as you made your way to the bar. 

“yn, can you put on something over your tight ass dress so Sam can frickin focus?” Your mouth dropped open, scoffing and tilting your head to the side in fake offense. 

“Can you stop looking at me and do your job?”

“I am, but it's hard when you two keep eye fucking eachother. Get your drinks, socialize, and distract the remaining family grill ‘em if you can. And please, listen to your ear piece.” Before you can reply, your eyes land on Dean in the crowds of suits and dresses, who is looking at you unamused. You smile, and he rolls his eyes playfully. You knew he wasn’t actually mad, but you also knew you did need to focus. You ordered a drink, Sam looming very close to your back, ordering after you. He slides the bartender his card, taking your drinks and leading you to the back of the room.

“So…you seen them?” You shook your head, knowing he was referring to the family. You scanned the room pointedly, tuning out the music, chatter, and all the bright lights and costly chandeliers in the room, finally spotting the youngest member of the family, Victor Brady, sitting with his mother. His mother had gone ‘missing’ but he never had. Based on your research, you knew the Bradys were rich of course, but you weren't sure the motives of the group of shapeshifters yet. Why were members of the family disappearing then coming back as if nothing happened? Had they really kidnapped some of them? Were the mother and son in front of you really them? How many of them were there?

“Hey, don’t worry,” Sam muttered in your hair, seeming to sense how wired-in to the family your mind was, “Let’s go talk to them. Remember, I am,” he pulled out his wallet from his back pocket, flashing the fake ID Dean had handed him earlier, “Ron Fogerty, son of a wealthy businessman from Canada. And you…” he pointed a finger at your face, then moved it to direct at your purse where your fake ID resided. You pulled it out. 

“Elaina…Clifford? Really? You guys are still using the rock names?” Sam gave you a pointed look, as if saying, it wasn't my idea with his face. 

“No idea how you both don’t get in trouble more often. Anyway, I’m girlfriend, correct? We’re here to support the Brady’s Fundraiser and get to know their youngest.” 

“Bingo. Let’s go before Dean gets on our asses again.” 

Strolling arm in arm to the Brady’s table with fake smiles, you and Sam greeted his mother first, then him

In the Impala, you had told the Winchesters about recent photos of them that had been published in the local paper. The family was known for being wealthy but not unkind; and was regarded highly among those in the city. But, in the photos from the week before, the youngest, Brady, was seen holding a number of odd documents leaving the bank, then making his way in the opposite direction of his family estate. Of course, the photos did not show the small printed lines of whatever secrets he was holding…but his angry, crude expressions in the photos did not match those of the graceful man sitting in front of you.

“This is Elaina, my girlfriend. She’s very interested in wildlife and insisted she spoke to those running the fundraiser.” Sam smiled, his voice calm and collected. You nodded, and Mrs. Brady tapped Sam’s shoulder, asking him something you couldn't make out because her son’s voice was louder, closer to your ears. 

“My name is Victor. Please, sit. It is nice to meet others with a passion for doing good with what they were blessed with.” You turned to see Sam was speaking civilly with Mrs. Brady, seated across from her, and you decided to sit as well. 

“Yes, I…also must say I find this place beautiful. Your family has lived here a while, I hear.”

Victor’s face dropped, his mouth forming a thin line. “We have. But you shouldn't believe everything you hear.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, trying desperately to play the part of a kind, naive woman, when all you really wanted was for him to tell you something, anything that might get you closer to what was going on. 

“Of course not, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” He sighs as you trail off, and that's when you notice the dark crescents of purple under his eyes.

“No, it’s my fault. People have been saying some things, lately, about us, about my father particularly. I do not appreciate men who spread false information.”

“And I do not either, I am actually a journalist back home, Victor. I know the importance of telling a factual story.” That made him relax.

“And I am glad to hear it. My parents don’t understand that whatever they’re doing is making me look like a fool as well.” You furrowed your brows. Whatever they’re doing?

“I’m sorry. It's hard to separate from your parents' identity, especially if they're as well known as yours.” 

“Exactly. I love them, and I love these events, truly, but just because I’m young doesn't mean I won't understand all the things they keep from me.”

“I know wha–

Your words stop stuck in your throat as you feel cold liquid streamed over your legs, your mouth dropping open as the wine made you get goosebumps. You tilted your head up slowly to see…Dean; empty wine glass in his hand, the alcohol now all over your velvet dress. You look up at him with daggers in your eyes, and he already knew he was going to get it later. But the look he gives you after he apologizes and offers you some napkins suddenly makes you aware of his plan.

“So sorry again, miss, here, I’ll take you to wherever the bathroom is and…” Sam is up now, moving closer to you before you widen your eyes at him, and he tilts his head slightly in confusion before Victor speaks up.

“That won't be necessary, I will show her.” You thank him and quickly mutter a, “I’ll be right back, honey,” to Sam, who nods, finally getting what Dean was thinking. You walk away, you hear a few security guards telling Dean rather loudly that he is cut off from the bar. 

You follow Victor, hearing his expensive shoes clacking on the dark wood stairs past a number of guards, ascending until you reach a long, grand hall. He walks to the second door on the right, and you understand that this is his parents bathroom. You can feel your heart beating at a speed you didn't think possible, thanking God that you still had your purse, and the special items inside you needed for a case like this. Victor offered you a few different stain removers, finally offering you a blow dryer for the bottom half of your dress where Dean had probably spilled a hundred dollars worth of wine on you. 

“Excuse me, I’m just going to use the restroom.” Victor points to the very far corner where you see a door at the end, which is around the corner from where you stand. Your plan tumbles around your brain, keeping the blow dryer on the loudest setting as you turn on your ear piece. 

“Alright, I’ll be here,” You say to Victor with a polite smile. He nods, turning the corner as you smirk, your heels already off, hand reaching into your bag as you go through the connecting door to his parents room. It had been a fucking hassle to get the layout of this stupid estate, but if this was the main building, that meant you were in the bathroom next to the master bedroom. Bingo. 

“I’m in the bedroom,” you whisper, nearly out of breath with how fast your heart is beating.

You held your device up to your eye, sending a silent thanks to Bobby for helping you with it. You were booksmart, not handy. You weren’t a great physical hunter and didn’t have a knack for making things; but Bobby did. A couple years ago when you had both worked on a case with Shapeshifters, you’d kept some of the…sheddings, is what you agreed to call it, of two of them when they transformed. The ooze smelled awful and almost glowed once you brought it home. You’d expressed how helpful it would be to detect such ooze, almost like night vision goggles, for hunting shapeshifters. He’d agreed, and after a dozen phone calls and hours searching through his piles of junk and scrap from various cars, created a shedding detecting circle that looked like a single binocular eye.

“The parents? Holy shit, I’m a genius,” Dean’s muffled voice came in your ear.

“You got lucky. And I’m expecting a form of apology when this is over.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I have some ideas. Sure you’d rather get my typa’ apology from Sammy, though.”

“You know I can hear all of this, right?” Sam said, his voice low and quiet in your ear.

“Can you both shut up so I can focus with the two minutes I have up here?”

You quickly spotted a heap of shedding glowing in the far right corner of the room, swiftly going over to see a pile of the ooze, skin, blood, and teeth. You scrunch your face at the smell, but put your left eye through the detector again. It took you a lot longer than you wanted it to, but you found a small trace of it on a cabinet near their bed. Inside, documents with faint traces of the shedding were in your hand in minutes.

“I got something, I’m coming back down,” you mutter, folding the pieces of paper as much as you could, shoving them not so gracefully in your purse when you heard the bathroom door open. 

“Sorry! Wrong way out. I think I’ve nearly had as many drinks as the wine spilling guy.” You giggled, smiling at Victor like he was God’s gift to Earth, hoping he’d buy it. And he did. He smiled politely, washing his hands before leading you out of the bathroom commenting on how, “The stain remover worked quickly, it almost looks as good as new.”

[pomegranate-ramune]

Malleus is going to murder the next few chapters in en istg- today's reward for the winter break is an ssr awaking, and I just got cater and riddle's ssr's from the savanaclaw banner.

[lilacgaby]

˗ˏˋ🖍️crayons and connections

pairing: prohero!katsuki x nanny!reader

summary: after a harsh relationship he really didn't want another try at romance for a while. at least, not until he hired you. he thought he loved the way you cared for his kids, but you both knew it was something more.

tags: fem!reader, domestic au, use of pet names, no proofread, fluff, cursing, taking care of kids, a millisecond of angst i swear trust me, comfort

(a/n: i couldn't get this au out of my headdd)

wc: ~3k

katsuki was honestly sick of his wife.

she would nag him constantly, asking for his cards and attention without ever asking about him or how he was doing. everything was an argument now, most of their nights would eventually end up with him on the couch.

the only lights of his life were his newborn son and one year old daughter. he had adopted the 'staying for the kids' mindset, but her skipping out on their shared daughter's first birthday was his breaking point.

who knew 'i want a divorce' would be the happiest words he'd ever uttered such far? watching her cry and swear she'd be better feeding the hole of despair that had opened over their three year relationship, that had only really blossomed because she got pregnant.

he had made her sign a prenup, thankfully, so he got to keep the house. with a payment and some paperwork he was left with full custody of his kids in his house, to sleep in his bed for the first time in ages.

well, only because he hired you.

it was only natural that he needed a nanny, i mean he was gone for most of the day patrols. after taking some in for interviews, he eventually landed on you after some hours of questioning.

he was exhausted, some of these hags were terrifying, both in their practices and appearances. he relaxed a bit at the sight of you. you were really pretty.

"hi mr-- um bakugo was it?"

you and no idea who he was? it kind of hurt but would end up working out in his favor.

"yeah, just katsuki's fine."

"oh, okay! i'm [name], uh-- i have a couple years experience for babysitting and i worked as a nanny for some other families too--"

as you rambled about your past experience and why you were good for the job, katsuki's mind went elsewhere. you looked breathtaking just speaking there, he swore your hair was flowing in the wind and that the sun shone brighter around you.

not to mention you were really sweet, he had saw you making small talk to the hags earlier, which meant you really were a saint.

"so uh-- yeah that's all about me... uh, hello?"

"oh! yes? that was all really impressive [name]. so, would you be available from eight in the morning to about ten at night? those are my current patrol hours, and obviously you'd be compensated for this trial."

"yes, that's perfect for me! when can i start?"

"uh.. tomorrow?"

"okay!" you stuck out your hand, a small smile on your lips. "nice to meet you katsuki."

he shook your hand firmly and you bowed before leaving.

the next day you arrived earlier than anticipated, he was suited up in his heroes outfit, relishing in the moments where his kids were still asleep.

he heard a knock at the door and opened it. it was you, a tiny purse behind you. "hi katsuki! woah wait a minute.. are you like a hero?"

he shrugged his arms. "yeah, you know only like top three, nothing big."

he saw your eyes widen. "oh wow! sorry for not recognizing you, i don't really keep up with all that stuff-- but im sure you're really strong!"

he nodded, "hell yeah i am. anyways, come in."

you were greeted by a large family home. you were sure your apartment was the size of the kitchen alone. huge halls and grand staircases filled the space, lavish chandeliers all shaped as explosions hung from the ceiling. not to mention the crazy amount of trophies displayed.

the rocking chairs and baby blankets scattered about were seriously out of place, making you giggle a bit.

when he looked back at you, you immediately slapped your hand over your face. "something funny?"

"no, no it's just-- your house is so nice!"

"thank you? anyways, i'll take you up to their rooms now."

you followed behind him, even his kids had huge rooms. you were super kind of jealous.

he opened the door and waved you over to see a small, adorable baby boy sleeping in a cot. "this is kei, he's only eight months." he whispered. "he fusses a lot, but he loves music."

he closed the door slowly behind, and walked to the room straight across. a tiny toddler laid in a princess bed, the room drowning in all things pink. "this is kioko, she's a handful. she turned two a bit ago." he whispered, closing the door behind him to give you a basic rundown of the schedule.

"so, they normally wake up around eight. there's a lot of formula for kei in the kitchen, and kioko just likes cereal. kioko can and will play all day, but kei gets real sleepy."

you nodded along making mental notes of everything.

"they eat lunch around three, but a snack before then is fine. dinner is at seven and they go to sleep at eight."

"okay, i think i got it."

he nodded. "i think you do too. there's extra keys in the counter by the door. call my assistants if there are any emergencies, i wrote the number on the fridge."

you nodded again, "kay, i got it. you get going though, it's already eight twenty!"

"fuck. okay, i'll see you later."

"bye katsuki."

the door closed behind him and you were alone. you decided to start prepping a bottle. just as you finished, you heard the wails of a baby ring throughout the halls.

you walked up to the cot, speaking softly. "hi kei, i'm [name]." as you picked him up, he gurgled in confusion. "i'll be taking care of you from now on, let's go eat."

you kept him in your arms. he was looking up at you curiously, making you smile as he touched your face. as you walked to his sister's room, where sure enough she was awake too.

"hi kioko, im [name]. i'll be taking care of you, okay?" you said, reaching out a hand for her to shake it.

she grasped your hand. "okay. go eat?"

"yes, let's go eat. follow me, okay?" she followed after you sleepily, her blanket and stuffed animal in her arms as you led her to the kitchen.

you placed her brother in a high chair first, giving him his formula. "can i pick you up?" you asked her.

"up-up!" she said, raising her arms up in the air. you carried and placed her into one too. "so, what do you wanna eat?"

"cookie!" she pointed to an expensive cereal brand you'd never even seen before. "oh, okay."

you placed a bit in a tiny bowl, adding some milk. they ate relatively peacefully, were they really as crazy as katsuki said?

yes, yes they were. kioko was a ball of energy, walking any and everywhere. she wanted to play every single game known to mankind. it didn't help that hide and seek was hard in such a huge house.

kei clung to you. as you searched for her he never wanted to leave your side, he'd start sniffling when you even left his sight.

lunch and dinner were a blur, you made the food katsuki had told you to on the sticky notes he'd left around. you had a bit too, and man did these kids eat good.

kioko finally crashed, tugging on the back of your pants. "sleepy time." you were washing dishes, so you wiped your hand clean to ruffle her hair. "okay, go wait for me in your room."

you finished up, picked up kei from where he was sat by his activity cube, and walked over to kioko's room.

you read her a book, 'the giving tree.' she fell asleep halfway through, utterly tuckered out from the day. kei fell asleep against your chest, you went and laid him down in his cot.

you looked around the house, seeing the mess. you sighed. "let's do this."

the house was sparkling once you were done, a pot of coffee on the stove as you waited for katsuki to get back. you seriously didn't know how you were going to go back your one-bed apartment now that you've seen how the rich live.

the door sounded, it was katsuki. "hi katsuki! how was uh-- patrol?"

he was covered in soot and dirt from head to toe. you internally sobbed at your hours of mopping going to waste. "oh uh, it was good. caught some guys and shit."

"ah, that's cool!"

he looked around. "did my brats cause you any trouble?" he eyed how clean everything was, from the dishes to the floor.

"they're full of energy, but so cute it makes up for it."

he wore a soft smile. "yeah, they really are."

"you know, they both look exactly like you. it's cute."

he flushed slightly, "yeah?"

"mhm, oh! i had leftovers from earlier? if you wanted some."

"yeah, i'll eat them." she smiled and started to grab her things. "so, does this mean i pass?"

he smiled too. "yes,

yes you did."

days melted into months of your routine with kei and kioko. some days katsuki would come home early, letting you play games all together. you'd cook with him sometimes too, laughing at how precise he was about it.

everything got a bit real the second kei spoke his first word to you.

"mama."

you and kioko got so excited, recording a clip to send it to katsuki immediately.

the entire day you were so happy, treating the kids to a secret extra snack, and letting them beat their favorite baby popcorn.

a knock on the door was heard, you were feeding kei so you walked over to the door with him in hand. you thought it was odd, why would katsuki knock?

except it wasn't him, it was some woman. "uh.. who are you?"

"oh, so he thinks he can replace me so quickly? newsflash, bitch, i'm his ex wife."

"can you not curse in front of the kids?"

"i'll do whatever the fuck i want. you know why? because i'm actually connected to those kids. you're just playing mother, he'll dump you eventually."

she slammed the door behind her. "star her mama?" kioko asked behind you.

"yeah, stranger."

you had gotten a bit weird after that, acting weird about affection and things surrounding it. you didn't know why, but she really did make you question your role in their lives.

you weren't a mother, you were a nanny.

katsuki finally got fed up with your new, odd attitude. he questioned you with a look in his eye.

"why you been acting so weird?" he asked, his mouth full with food.

"huh? i don't know what you mean?"

he pointed his chopsticks at you. "you've been acting all weird 'round 'em. you don't like that they call you mom or something?"

"no! it's just.. don't you think it's weird?"

"no. i'm happy that they like you so much."

"you don't think i'm trying to replace their mom?"

"they never really had one in the first place. she was never around, so if she said some shit to you know she wasn't half the person you are."

"oh.."

"so she did come."

"yeah. she did."

"[name]. you are ten times the person she ever was. you're perfect without trying. actually, you do try. and that's why..

that's why we all love you."

you both turned red, which made you laugh. "thank you katsuki."

you reached out and held his hand.

"seriously, thank you."

he put a restraining order on his ex the next day, also going to get flowers for you as it was his day off.

you'd started to sleep over after that, the affection between the two of you growing gradually.

he gifted you a room in the house, fully furnished with about ten thousand dollars left in one of the drawers so 'you could decorate for yourself.'

that room went mostly unused though, as most nights you'd end up cuddled with katsuki in his bed.

the fridge was filled to the brim with photos by kioko, who'd love to draw all four of you as one big family.

katsuki even asked her for a small one, one that he now keeps in the back of his phone case for good luck.

he asked you out officially with kioko's help, her unwanted help that is.

she snuck out after bedtime where he was speaking to you on the couch, you in his arms as he was mustering up his courage--

"pleaseeee have a play date with daddy, pleasee?" she said, using her puppy eyes.

"we all love you a lot, but he loves you this much!" she spread out her arms to make a point, making you laugh.

"okay! okay, i already said yes kioko. go to sleep, okay?"

"yay!" she ran up to her room and you heard the door close.

"so.. about our playdate?"

he took you out to a fancy dinner of your choice, telling you to order whatever you'd like. his mom was babysitting so you two could relax.

he'd learned a lot about you from his kids, your favorite color, the music you liked, the way you like your eggs, but it was different to hear it from you.

he thought you were so gorgeous and kind, so sweet to him and the lights of his life. who was he kidding? over the last year you'd become a pillar of his life.

he enjoyed going home knowing you were there with his kids, you were there to hear about his stresses and support him.

he was happy to support you, to let you stay in his house. to let him pay for things for you, to let him make you smile.

one 'playdate' turned into multiple, you went out every other week.

he knew he had to do something, a grand gesture to show you just how much he loved you, how he wanted to continue building this perfect family of his forever.

he knew how much you treasured the opinions of his kids, he loved that about you.

so, he got them in on it. kioko and kei each held a gift for you, one of your favorite flowers and the other of your favorite perfumes.

you were at a seriously gorgeous park, streams the only noise you could hear for miles. you saw your two favorite kids sitting on the picnic blanket.

"kioko, kei?"

"mommy!" they ran up to you, kei handing you the bouquet of roses, and kioko handing you a vial of perfume.

"aw, thank you you two. where's your dad?"

"hes waiting for you! come come!"

"come!"

they guide you to a secluded area, with a natural arch of overgrown vines, where katsuki is waiting for you.

"katsuki?"

"[name]."

"what's all of this for?"

"you." he took your hands into his, looking deeply into you.

"you're important to me. you've.. you've become the thing i was missing. the thing i searched for in other people.

and, you've become that to the people i care about the most too.

so,"

he got down on one knee infront of you.

"will you marry me?"

the word yes escaped you before you even realized it. you tackled him into a hug, which prompted kei and kioko to join in.

everything was just so sweet from then on.

kioko was the flower girl at your wedding, kei was the ring holder.

your first kiss shared under the altar was magical, the memory of it forever engrained in your memories, and in your lips.

your honeymoon was bittersweet, as you missed your two headaches. but you and katsuki also enjoyed the private time alone with eachother, embracing and finding comfort in eachother's presence.

when you got home though, your picturesque family was about to have a new addition,

you were pregnant.

whilst everyone was debating whether or not you'd have a boy or girl, to everyone's surprise once you and katsuki cut the slice of cake open..

it had both colors.

you we're having twins.

as you looked over at katsuki, a shocked expression on his face, all you could do was laugh.

laugh because you couldn't have ever imagined a life this perfect for you.

but it was a wax-drawn line of fate that led you to katsuki,

and you'd always be thankful for it.

tag: @kovu-bunnbunn

[thewritergx]

Gentle Torture: Dbf!JoelxF!Reader

Part 1, Part 2

Summary: Joel Miller loses every ounce of restraint when a high school senior moves in next door. Pre-Outbreak

Warnings: Smut: Age Gap (Joel in his late 30s, reader starts out at 18), Dbf!Joel, Fingering, Kissing. Curse words, Drinking, Party.

Word Count: 4.5 K

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

I have been obsessed with the dbf trope lately. This story is very much inspired by @pearlessance. Please go check her out.

Please feel free to like and repost. Click here if you’d like more stories from me

Joel Miller could not believe all the choices he made in life had led him…here. Standing above you, your legs sprawled out, pussy wet and glistening for him. He hated where he was right now. He hated that he loved it so much, watching as you quivered at his touch. Hated that he craved you every goddamn waking hour of his life. He fucking hated you for being so innocent, so irresistible. It was a gentle torture, something he never experienced in his thirty plus years of life.

By all accounts, he was a good man. Sure, he had been arrested a few times as a teenager, won (and lost) some bar fights, and broke a few women's hearts. That did not make him a bad man, at least he had hoped not. He had made an honest, decent life. He had flaws like any other man, but he knew deep down he would die for those he loved, no questions asked. That had to count for something.

He was sure he was a good man, but when Joel laid his head to sleep at night, his mind always led him down that bad bad place. He closed his eyes and flashes of you in perfect little bikinis, tight crop tops (the ones where your nipples set perfectly visible and erect for everyone to see), and those tiny denim shorts tortured his mind. Thoughts of you had plagued him, clouding his mind and hardening his cock over and over again for months. 

It had not started out this way, not in the slightest. Over a year ago, you and your father, David, had moved in next door. At first, he had not paid much attention to the new additions next door. Sure, he introduced himself, shaking your father’s hand and giving you a light smile and wave. But there was not much interaction after that. Not until some remodeling was needed on your home. Joel being a construction worker was obviously convenient for your father. David had never been much of a handyman himself, so Joel was the first person he came to for help. 

“Your dad says you want to paint your room?” was the first sentence Joel had actually spoken to you, his voice smooth and raspy all at the same time. It sent chills through you, an innocent crush on the older man already forming. The two of you stood in the empty bedroom, all your things moved temporarily into the living room. 

“I was thinking something dark, maybe a forest green”, was all you responded, holding out a stack of paint cards you picked up from Home Depot. Joel took them lightly in his hand, his fingers brushing against yours. It was enough to wake every nerve in your body. You hoped the hot blush on your cheeks was not too obvious.

“This one. The sun would wash out the rest”. Joel held up a card to the wall, Vermont green. You nodded in agreement. It was your favorite too. Joel couldn’t help but notice how small you were next to him, your frame drowned in his as he stood firmly still next to you. 

“So you're starting a new school. It must be hard being a senior in a new place.” 

You nodded again, carefully lining tape at the base of the walls like Joel had shown you moments before. “Yeah, especially with the year being halfway over. But I’ll manage.” 

Joel relaxed at the sound of your soft voice. It was so refreshing, happy, and full of youthfulness. “Got any plans for college? Ya’ seem smart” Joel asked, lining the floor with a thin plastic material. 

“I’ve actually got my license for cosmetology already. I'm trying to find a shop right now, but it’s hard being new to the area and still being in school.” 

Joel nodded, taking notice of how soft and bouncy your hair looked. Perfect curls stop just under your shoulder blade. Perfect for him to grab onto while you sit on all fours, ass up and face down for him. He quickly shook the thought away, cursing himself for even being alone in a room with you. What had gotten into him?

As the year went on, Joel and your father started hanging out more and more. A familiar boyish relationship formed between them and now they seemed, for the most part, inseparable. Joel spent weekend after weekend in the backyard of your house, cooking steaks, hotdogs, and hamburgers. You had graduated and were home all the time in the summer. He always tried to ignore the way your perfect little ass bounced with every step you took towards the pool, you bikini bottoms ridding up, hardly covering anything and a red popsicle sitting between your plump pink lips. He had never been jealous of a popsicle before. It made him angry, hot all over. He recalled days he accidentally burnt the meat on the grill, too dazed out at the thought of you to pay any mind to food. He was starved, but never for what he was cooking. 

Joel always cursed himself after, hating how much he wanted to destroy your innocence. He made it his mission to be as friendly as he could while still keeping his distance from you. He never sat in chairs next to you, never hugged you, never even gave you a high five. But he would offer you smiles, ask how school was going, and help you with math if you ever needed it. He hoped this was enough to stop the involuntary twitch in his cock every time he saw you.

It never was. 

You, on the other hand, were always trying to get closer. You never needed help painting, and you definitely never needed help with math. In fact, it was one of your best subjects. On days you knew Joel would be over, you would dress a bit lighter, show a touch more skin. Enough that he could imagine, but not enough for your father to notice anything was up. You were not always sure if it worked, but you swore some days you could feel Joel’s eyes linger on you like a lion stalks its prey. Other days, it felt like he was disgusted by you. Only saying a short ‘hey’ and then practically running as far opposite from you as he could. It was so frustrating. You were eighteen, not a child. You knew you could handle him, knew you could take him. 

Today was not a good day to tempt Joel. He had woken up yearning, his skin on fire for you. He had done his best to stay away from your house for the day, taking a cold shower and trying to focus on anything other than the eighteen-year-old girl next door. But you had other plans, knocking steadfastly on his door. 

Joel startled at the light bangs, pacing towards the window and reluctantly moving the blinds. He watched as you stood on his front steps, a sweet smile on your face. God, what did you want?

Joel opened the door hesitantly, looming in the door frame. “Hey, what’s up sweetheart?” He asked, forcing a casual tone from his clenched jaw.

“Did you forget…You’re supposed to be cooking for my dad’s party. He’s gonna be pissed if people show up and there’s nothing to eat.” You spoke, a hand laid lightly on your hip. You wore a light blue sundress, the material flowy and hugging your waist like it was handcrafted for only you.

A strap from a black bra poked through the thin top of the dress, causing a silent groan and a string of curses to raddle his brain.

“Goddamn it, fuck! I fuckin’ forgot. Just come in…” Joel cursed, slapping his forehead and dragging it down his face. 

“You look like shit,” you laughed, taking a long glance as you gently stepped inside the living room. A worn-down couch and loveseat sat in the center of the room, a glass table between them. The walls were boring beige, to be expected. 

“I d-didn’t sleep good…that’s all”, Joel groaned across the room, slamming down two pills. His head was fucking killing him. He rushed around the kitchen, pulling spices and items from the fridge. He let out a few “Grab this and this”. 

“Fuck, I need to change. Why didn't you come get me earlier?” Joel’s tone was impatient, something you had never really heard before. He was always so pleasant. 

“My bad. Didn’t know I was babysitting a grown man,” you huffed, holding a plethora of ingredients Joel had thrown at you. 

“Don’t be a fuckin’ smart ass” Joel half yelled. He stopped for a moment, a deep sigh escaping him. He forced himself to finally look at you, his eyes traveling up your body. Fuck, you looked so good. 

“Sorry…Listen, I need you to take this shit to the grill while I get the ribs ready. Then come here, get me a decent outfit. Nothing crazy. Just need a semi-nice shirt and jeans.” Joel raddled, his words coming out faster than you processed. 

You nodded your head in agreement. It was something Joel loved about you. How easily you listened, how accepting and obedient of his words you were. 

A few hours had passed and Joel’s sour attitude had remained the same. He watched from a lawn chair, drinking beers like a sad old man as you danced with family and friends, hugged your father, and smiled at the few strangers in attendance. He tried his damndest to keep his boiling anger at bay, possessive thoughts of grabbing you and leading you to his bedroom invading him. It pissed him off even more to see you act so casual. Like the thought of him ravishing you never crossed your mind. Was he just some kind of freak weirdo obsessed with a teenage girl half his age? Or worse… was he just your dad’s friend to you? 

Racing thoughts plagued his mind. He probably looked like a standoffish asshole to everyone. He had hoped to be in good spirits by the time the party started, but you just would not fuck off. You stood next to him as he cooked, offering help in any way you could. Of course, you were trying to be polite, just wanting to be of assistance. He knew that he should not be so angry at you, but that stupid sundress was making his cock throb against the zipper of his jeans, no release in sight for hours. He daydreamed of when he could lay in bed, cursing himself as he pulled up your Instagram page. Like most nights, he would zoom in on your pictures, picking out ones of you on the beach, your thighs, ass, or tits on display. Then, he would gently drag down his boxers, coat his hand with a thin layer of spit and stroke his cock until he was cumming on his stomach. 

For now, he was stuck in this chair, watching you like a fucking weirdo.

“Joey”, your dad’s voice rang out across the yard, an octave above the heavy rock music playing in the background. Joel hesitated to stand, scared his semi-hard cock might be obvious to those around him. He forced himself up, half-drunk beer in hand, and made his way over to David.

“Just wanted to t-thank you for bringing everyone t-together. You've been a g-great friend to me, and you’ve been so so good to y/n. You would be a great f-father, ya know.” Your dad’s words were slurred and he drunkenly threw his arm around Joel's shoulder. An intense sting of guilt and disgust rushed through Joel like he was being struck by lightning. Guilt because he was daydreaming of fucking the brains out of his best friend’s daughter and disgust because David had just compared you to Joel’s imaginary child.

“Of course,” Joel spoke simply, quickly downing the rest of his beer. This wouldn’t work. He needed something hard. A drink that would actually loosen him up. Joel pulled himself from your dad’s arm, trying to act as happy as he could. He’s finally lost sight of you. Thank god. “Gonna go get another drink, want anything?” Joel asked, watching as your father struggled to gain balance. Clearly, he was cut off. “Actually, never mind.” Joel laughed, his first genuine laugh of the entire day.

Joel wandered to the backdoor, sliding the glass frame open and quickly ducking inside. The house was quiet, everyone gathered outside drinking and laughing. It relaxed him, and he closed his eyes, leaning against the door framing and letting out a heavy breath. 

“Social anxiety?” You asked, standing in the kitchen, a cherry popsicle wrapped around your lips.

“Somethin’ like that,” Joel smiled, shaking his head and begging to be anywhere but here. Anywhere but near you. His skin crawled as he watched you lick the popsicle, your tongue gliding in a circular motion around the tip. You knew what you fucking doing. Joel knew it. You both knew it. 

Joel stayed glued to the doorframe, his eyes locked on you as you silently dragged your tongue from the bottom of the popsicle to the top and then dipped it deep into your mouth. 

“Stop,” Joel commanded, taking long strides to the kitchen. He did not dare get too close to you, so he stopped when you were just out of reach, hoping the distance was enough to hold him back. 

“What? I’m not doing anything,” You spoke innocently, sucking the tip of the popsicle until red juice settled on your lips and ran softly down your chin. A light smile sat on your face as you looked up through your eyelashes at Joel, continuing your gentle attack on the popsicle. 

“I’m serious,” Joel spoke, not a hint of emotion behind his words. He took an involuntary step closer, his legs no longer under his control. “You know what you're doing…” Joel whispered, lowering his face until it was just above your ear, his breath hot and thick on the smooth skin of your neck. Every fiber of your being stood at alert and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Why was he so close? Why had he been in such a bad mood today?

“Joey, I-” Your voice was enough to push him over the edge, and without warning, he took the popsicle from your hand, laying it down on the counter. He pressed his body against you, trapping you between him and the counter. Your back arched against the cold marble, a hint of fear widening your eyes. Joel stood silently in front of you, looming above your tiny frame. 

“God, you don’t know what you do to me little girl”, Joel’s voice had finally softened but his jaw and fists were still closed tight, like he might explode at any moment. 

You try to speak, try to come up with any type of words, but your mind has disconnected from your body and all you can think is ‘Joel, Joel, Joel’. You don't try to pull away from him, don't even fight when he takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to look up at him. Your eyes meet his and you swear you could die right there.

His lips fan above yours momentarily, so close but still so achingly far away. “Say you want this,” Joel mumbles, dragging his thumb across your plump lips, a bright red stain left behind by the cherry flavoring. 

Your body is a melting, trembling mess already. “I-I w-want this,” your words are hardly audible, all breathy and slow. 

That’s all it takes for Joel to completely break, come undone to the point he can never be ‘done’ again. Joel slams into you, pulling you into a sloppy kiss, claiming you through a desperate mess of saliva and tongue. He can taste the cherry on your lips, sweet and addicting. He is completely lost in you, biting softly against your bottom lip. You tug your hand in his hair, thick brown locks finding a home between your fingers. He is a fucking mess and he cannot stop himself from dragging his hands to your waist, pulling you in so deep you are practically one. You suck in a deep breath, allowing Joel’s tongue to dip further inside, swirling inside your mouth desperately. You try to stay quiet, try to keep composed but a moan escapes you before you can even think about stopping it. Need rushes through your body as you whine into him and you feel every muscle in Joel’s body tighten around you. 

Joel cannot believe he is actually fucking doing this. His mind is racing, thoughts clouded with needy desire and despair. He ached for more of you, anything you would offer him. Joel allows himself to get lost in you, finally roaming his hands to your hips, rough and possessive. His lips never part yours, sucking at the tip of your tongue and softly dragging his teeth across it.

Joel's strong hands travel lower, gripping your soft curvy thighs with calloused fingertips. He squeezes your supple flesh, pushing you deeper into the counter. He swears he could do this, just this for hours, never even needing to be inside you to feel euphoria. He kneads at your skin, pulling you flush against his body and biting your lip again. Hesitance lingers through him but he ultimately gives in, slipping his hand under the hem of your dress. Joel groans against your lips as his fingers wander to softer, gentler skin. They move higher and higher until they meet the edge of your panties, slowly tracing a finger along the fabric, his other hand on your waist keeping your wiggles firmly at bay. 

You finally break the kiss, tearing your mouth away from him with reluctance. You place your forehead on his shoulder, breath hot and heavy against his chest. He drops his head, resting it gently atop of yours. His hand on your waist gives you a light squeeze. Joel inhales deeply, the smell of rose and vanilla filling his senses. A low groan reverberates through his chest, need echoing off of him. He wants you right here, doesn't even care if anyone sees or walks in. Doesn't care if it would end up with him getting his ass beat. He just needs you. 

You bite down on the fabric of Joel’s shirt as his hands travel to your ass and grip you tight. He easily lifts you, sitting you down gently on the cold marble in front of him. He knows better, knows not to dip his fingers inside you but your pleading, begging, eyes told him differently.  

Your pupils dilate with lust, a soft whimper easily hexing Joel’s finger back to your thin panties. 

Joel looks down at you, soft hunger written across his face. “This okay?” he whispers, lightly dragging a finger down your clothed slit. You wonder if he can feel the warm, wet spot staining your pretty pink panties. 

“Mmmh,” is all you can reply, Joel’s free hand caressing the skin of the inside of your thigh. He applies gentle pressure, slowly spreading your legs, making more room for his long fingers. Your dress rides up, fabric bunching just above your pelvis. You were finally on display for him, cunt almost exposed. 

Joel watches you tremble under his touch, eyebrows furrowed as he palms at your core. His hand is so warm and your breath hitches in your throat. His movements are slow, so hurtfully soft. He has not even done anything, but his chest is rising and falling like he just fought in war. Your forehead returns to his shoulder and you grab at his forearm, body screaming for more of the sweet sensations of his fingers. You place a light kiss on his shoulder, closing your eyes as Joel uses his fingers to massage your outer lips, pinching them together. Joel moved his finger in a swirling motion, circling your clit with possessiveness. He groans into your neck, breathing in your sweet scent again. He was drunk off it, drunk off you.

“You gonna let me take these off?” Joel whispers, dipping the very tip of his index finger under the hem of your panties.

“Yes, sir”, you whine, your voice a destroyed pathetic cry. Joel chuckles, a smirk on his lips as your cry vibrates through him. Relief struck him. He wasn’t just your dad’s friend, and he wasn’t imagining things. You wanted him. You wanted him.

“Just Joel, baby”, he responds, pulling at the thin pink material. 

“Joel”, you repeat, cold air hitting your exposed core. 

Joel is quick to drag your panties down, past your white heels, and shove them deep in his pants pockets. He couldn't just leave them lying around. Joel swallows hard, the back of his throat dry with nervousness. He knows he should stop here before he does anything he can’t take back. But it’s too late, and his fingers are reaching for your sensitive bundle of nerves. Joel takes a moment to spread your legs wider, groaning as he finally takes a look at your pretty pussy. He could’ve passed out at the sight, your lips plump and the inside a dark rosy pink. You looked like heaven on earth. 

Usually, Joel would have lubed up his fingers, shoved them in your mouth until you were gagging around them, and coated them thickly with your spit but he could tell you were wet enough, your arousal dripping down your cunt to pool on the marble under your ass.

His finger enters you and you can't stop the loud moan that rings through the empty house. “Shh, babygirl, shh”. Joel speaks tenderly. He curls his finger upwards, gently stroking against your soft walls. He can’t believe how fucking wet, warm, and tight your pussy feels around his finger. He wants to die in there, drown in your juices. 

You nod your head, biting your lip so hard you swear you taste a hint of blood. Juices coat his finger and a faint squelching sound fills his ears. Fuck, he’s never been so hard. You arch your back, hips rudding gently at his movements. More moans escape you, and you have to slam your lips back on his to keep quiet. 

He meets your kiss, swallowing every sound that involuntarily floods out of you.  He pressed his finger in deeper, pumping in and out as slow as he could. He tried his hardest to stay gentle, too scared to get rough. 

“Oh! Joel…n-need more”, you whimpered watching as fingers entered and exited you smoothly. 

“Yeah? This not enough for my little girl, huh?” Joel growled, adding a second finger deep inside you. This time, he curled his fingers with a mission. He had to make you cum like this, had to feel your walls tighten around him. 

His two fingers were so thick, stretching your cunt out with a subtle burn. It was so much more than you were used to, more than you could ever give yourself. You gasped at the new sensation, your pussy sucking him in deeper and deeper. 

You were crying now, whimpers and moans of Joel's name spilling out of you like a bucket of paint kicked over on the floor. “Fuck, J-Joel. Please, please. Can’t take anymore. I’m gonna cum, please.” You practically screamed, hands tight around his shoulders. 

“Such a good girl. Go ahead and cum on my fingers.” Joel growled “Let me watch you”, he demanded, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. Your mouth fell silently open, eyes locked on his.

You felt your chest tighten, a coil snapping inside you and shaking your entire system. “Oh fuck,” you screamed, feeling more wetness drip out of you and down your soft thighs. Your vision blurred, a foggy haze destroying every once of strength in your body.

“There you go, baby girl. Just like that”, Joel mumbled, placing soft kisses on your forehead and cheek. He subtly slowed his fingers until they came to a stop, pulling them out of you with a sting. “Did so good for me, so fucking good.” 

Joel whipped his fingers on his pants, grabbing your hips and helping you down from the counter. Your legs wobbled as they hit the ground, and Joel helped you regain balance. He took a moment to fix your hair, whipping away the thin layer of salvia he left on your lips and chin. You pulled your dress down, legs still shaky.

Joel squeezed your side again. His brown eyes stare down at you and he places one last soft kiss on your lips, before clearing his throat and walking out of the kitchen towards the front door. 

He doesn't say bye. Not to you. Not to his best friend. He just goes home, hating himself and craving you even more. 

You stay pressed against the counter, your face flushed and lips swollen a bright pink. You take a moment to catch your breath, questioning if you imagined the interaction. Your heart races as you feel your core, slightly sore and dripping. 

[callme-holly]

could you maybe please do some scenarios for (y/n) comforting sodapop, Dallas, ponyboy, and Johnny if you want please. also could you please make the reader fem please and thank you

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 [𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧, 𝐒𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐩 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬, 𝐏𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐝𝐞.]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - im a little behind on requets but im getting there! i've got my final exam of this week tomorrow and then i'll be a lot speedier, i promise. asks are still open for requests!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 1.6k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - mentions of fighting, getting jumped and small injury detail

Dallas Winston -  The room is quiet as you card your fingers through Dallas’ hair, the greaser’s head resting against your thigh. His eyes are closed, and there's a nasty bruise blossoming on his cheekbone, accompanied by a few bloodied scrapes that he refuses to let you clean. There’s dried blood crusted beneath his nose, which you wipe away gently with the pad of your thumb, humming softly under your breath as he breathes out a low, soft groan.  “You alright?” Your tone is barely above a whisper as you tug at the ends of his mussy locks, pushing them back from his face. He blinks once or twice, his eyelashes fanning against his cheeks, and his expression is a little less pained than it was just minutes ago.  “Yeah,” he murmurs after a moment, “fine.” He shifts a little bit so that his head is now more firmly planted upon your lap, and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer in a half embrace. You reach down between the two of you and retrieve the ice pack that is sitting forgotten beside you, pressing it against his swollen cheek once more.  He makes a disgruntled noise but doesn't open his eyes again.  “Sorry 'bout this.” His voice is rough, strained from the exertion: “Y' shouldn't have to take care of me all the damn time.” The words fall heavy between the two of you as he speaks, and you smile softly, shaking your head. “It ain't too much trouble, really.” You rub small circles against his bicep, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. “And besides...” your voice drops to an almost conspiratorial murmur, “I like taking care of you. It makes me feel better when I know you're not lying dead in a ditch somewhere.”  He gives you a lopsided grin at that, eyes still closed. “You've got so much faith in me, doll.”  Your smile widens, feeling something twist inside of you. You take his hand, squeezing it gently before pressing a quick kiss to his busted-up knuckles. “Whatever.” 

Sodapop Curtis -  A small sigh leaves your lips as Soda buries his face in your chest, arms wrapped tightly around your middle, tears cascading down his cheeks as he struggles for air.  It pains you to see him like this, his usual bright smile replaced with a look of pure anguish, silent sobs racking his body. You rub slow circles against his back, mumbling soft words of reassurance into his ear as he clings to your shirt. “I don’t understand,” he gasps, his voice thick with emotion. “Why can't they just get along? They never used to be like this. A shudder runs through him, and you tighten your hold on him, rocking him a bit back and forth as he cries. “Shh, Soda, hey, you need to breathe,” you murmur soothingly, combing your fingers through his hair. “You’re gonna make yourself sick.” You press a soft kiss to the top of his head, hushing him quietly as his cries gradually abate.  “I just want them to get along.” Soda whispers brokenly, burying his face against your collarbones. “I'm tired of being made to pick sides. I don't wanna be in the middle all the time.” You hum sympathetically, shifting slightly so that you can wrap both arms around him and pull him as close as physically possible. Soda melts into your touch, relaxing fully against you. You can tell he's exhausted, both emotionally and physically.  "I hate it.” He sounds miserable. “All they do is yell at each other. Darry is way too hard on Pony, and Pony's trying his hardest, but he can only take so much–" Soda stops abruptly, his breath hitched in his throat as another sob tears from him, wracking his body. His grip tightens around your middle and your heart clenches painfully at the sight.  “I just want things to go back to normal.” You give a slow nod, closing your eyes. “I know, I know. It'll be okay.” You press another gentle kiss to his temple and run your hands slowly up and down his spine, trying to offer as much comfort as you can. He relaxes under your touch, melting further into you as he tries to take deep, steady breaths, struggling to control himself.  You tilt his chin up so that he's looking at you once more, running your thumb over his cheek. “I love you, you know” “Mm,” he hums, blinking rapidly to rid his vision of the last remnants of tears. His eyes meet yours, and even though his gaze is glassy and filled with sadness and pain, his expression is soft and tender. “Love you too.”

Ponyboy Curtis -  You're sitting in the lot, your jacket pulled tightly around you, when you hear the sound of approaching footsteps. You stiffen and turn sharply, expecting to see a group of drunken socs or the odd greaser looking for trouble, only to come face to face with none other than Ponyboy Curtis. He has tears streaming down his cheeks, his hair mused as he all but throws himself at you, shoulders shaking and chest heaving. You don’t speak a word as you pull him into your arms, rubbing your hands over his shoulders in an attempt to calm him. His head comes to rest on your shoulder, one fist clutching the front of your sweater as tight as possible, the other hanging uselessly by his side. For several moments, he sits in silence, letting you hold him while he finally manages to collect himself. Then he pulls back, wiping furiously at his face. “Sorry…” You don’t miss the way he averts his gaze from you as he speaks, refusing to make eye contact. “Didn't mean to bother you; I just—”  You shake your head, interrupting him. “There’s no reason for you to apologise.” You pause, considering for a long moment before continuing. “What's up?”  He exhales shakily, then hesitantly meets your gaze again. “I—Darry yelled at me again. He got real mad this time.” His voice cracks, and you pull him close once more. You know Darry’s been harder on him as of late, expecting too much of a boy Pony’s age. You know he means well, but you also know the toll it’s been taking on the younger Curtis brother and how difficult these past few weeks have been for him.  “Sometimes I don't think Darry likes me very much.” You can hear the vulnerability in his tone, unable to miss how broken he appears. He's not crying anymore; if anything, he looks a little embarrassed and ashamed. You frown, brushing his damp bangs from his forehead. “Don't be ridiculous.” Your tone is firm, determined to keep him from ever getting caught up in that dark spiral. “He cares about you a whole lot.” “He's got a funny way of showin' it.” Pony grumbles softly, and you can't help but laugh at his bluntness, wrapping your arms tighter around him. “I wish he'd be nicer. I really don't like all the fighting we do.” “I know. But it'll get easier.” You look down at him. “If you want, I can go talk some sense into him.” That earns you a smile as Ponyboy nods, squeezing you a little tighter. “Good luck. I doubt he’ll listen.” You press a quick kiss to his forehead, smiling softly. “I’ll try my best.”

Johnny Cade -  Arms circle around your waist, gripping onto you tightly as you comb your fingers through his tangled, and still heavily greased, hair. Johnny’s head rests in your lap, eyes squeezed shut as he tries desperately to fall into some sort of relaxed state, but he just can't seem to find the will within himself to do so. You watch him silently, running a finger absently along his jawline, taking in the bruises and cuts littering his face and arms. He looks worn thin and broken; his cheeks are tear-stained and hollowed by exhaustion. His breathing remains unsteady and uneven, his skin pale, and you can't help but reach out and brush the pad of your thumb across the faint lines beneath his eyes, your brow furrowing deeply. He flinches slightly but doesn’t open his eyes, his breath hitching. “Sorry,” You whisper, going back to smoothing your hand over his hair. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”  Johnny lets out a soft sigh, leaning his forehead against your stomach. “S' okay…” He shifts a little closer to you, reaching for your hand and lacing your fingers together. “...just glad yer here.” You bite your lower lip, tracing patterns into the back of his hand with your thumb, pressing soft kisses against his forehead as you let him snuggle closer, relishing in the simple closeness of it all. It eases your nerves knowing he's safe with you and calms the storm raging inside of you. Your mind wanders back to earlier, the images of him lying, half-dead, in that field flashing unbidden through your mind.   It takes a lot to make Johnny Cade cry, but the second you had knelt down beside him and pulled him into your arms while the gang huddled about you, his composure had completely crumbled. Sobs had wracked his body, shaking his entire frame, and you could do nothing but hold him until he had finally calmed down. And now, here he was, curled up into your embrace, clinging to you like a lifeline. Every little noise made him jump, every sudden movement made his muscles tense, and your heart ached for him. You wanted so badly to make everything better, but there was nothing you could do. All you could do was stay there, holding him as he cried, wishing that there was something you could do besides sit by and whisper softly to him. But, you know, right now, just you being there is enough for him.

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫�� 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

[titan-senpai]

What the hell??

A young lady who was a model lived on earth ended in a tragic way.. and ended up in hell somehow? While she cant hurt a fly..

Part 2

I woke up on the cold streets in the middle of nowhere.. " Where am i.." Holding my head trying to stand up, taking a look around, seeing creatures everywhere. " What the.." I blinked a few times not believing my eyes. I turned my head and saw a shop with mirrors and took a look at my reflection.

shocked to see my own reflection.. White with red marks on my body.. then i turned around and asked a girl "Little girl can you tell me where i am?" The little girl just laughed. " You're new around here?" She took a drink of her milkshake. I just nodded.

" Wel.. Welcome to hell! " She laughed walking away from me " Goodluck newbie" I stood there in shock.

How did I end up here? Wat.. it was that bastard.. looking at my red spots indicating wounds. It's all his fault...I felt my knees get weak as I fell down on them next to the shop.

I don't know How many hours have passed by but out of nowhere a girl walked by me taking an interest in me. "let me guess.. your new?" She said chewing her gum looking at her phone.. she's probably addicted. I nodded.

" You've got good bone structure and a taste in fashion.." She cupped my face looking at it.. " You wanna work for me?" she let go letting me stand up. I took a look at her clothing and thought it must be an influencer or something.

" Whatcha say dear... I need a yes or no." She said firmly and I nodded without saying anything. "Follow me." As she walked away I followed her.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Walking into a building called VoxTech? Following her into the elevator as she presses the highest button and scans the card. "Names Velvette.." She checked her phone again, typing away.

"My name is Y/N." I fidgeted my hands anxiously. The elevator door opens revealing a room filled with Photos of her and 2 other guys.

"VOX VAL! get your asses here" She yelled into her phone. Dramatic much.

Seeing a spark out of a tv turn into a guy with a tv head while the other was nowhere to be found. "VAL NO JOKES!" She yelled as smoke entered the room. Turning into a man with 4 arms.

" This is the girl i was talking about.. take a look at her" she walked off sitting on the couch nearby checking her phone.

" And what do we have here.." taking a look at me while he checks me out breathing smoke into my shoulders feeling his breath giving me shivers, "your a pretty one aren't you.." feeling his breath closer to me M" Doll..." walking to his desk. "And what is your talent?" The TV headed guy asked me. "i.." Speechless as I left a shaky breath shivering.

"No time for chit chat.. I'll figure her talent out, follow me me newbie" velvette said walking to the room, opening the door revealing a whole wardrobe " FIrst let's get you dressed.. Cant have them see you with us wearing normie clothes can we.." She smirked, pushing me in the room. " Pick one.. I'll be outside." I looked at the clothes, feeling fine silky clothes. None of them caught my interest.

Looking in the mirror at the end of the room touching my clothes that I currently have on. Imagining the clothes i used to wear. and suddenly my hands start to glow. and they started to make the clothes i was thinking off. and soon I was holding them.

20 Minutes passed and I heard a knock " R you done yet dear.." I opened the door walking out in baggy jeans with a Crop top with a window revealing my cleavage a bit and a Jacket with fur. White boots to match the white bag.

" You look fabulous dear.. Where did you get these? I don't have these in my small closet.." I finally let go of her phone pointing at my clothes.

" I think i figured out my talent.." showing her my hands. " Welcome to the Vees my dear.." 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[lilacliquors]

kinktober day one: praise

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 1112

notes: welcome to kinktober 2024! since i am a full time teacher, these might not all be the same length, so i'm gonna make as steamy as possible to make up for the length! enjoy!

doors slammed, bodies were pressed firmly together, and all that could be heard for a moment were mingled heavy breaths. clumsy hands gripped the hem of your shirt to try and get it up over your head as quickly as possible, and you could feel the cool of his metal hand on your skin. it sent a shiver up your spine, and goosebumps rose on your skin, yet you didn’t think much of it. your hands dropped to his belt, the buckle harder to undo in your frantic state. you could hear bucky chuckle as you fumbled with the material, and he was able to guide you through it as his lips met yours in a deep, passionate kiss. you heard the belt buckle clink, and with one hand, he pulled the entire belt from the loops in his jeans. he tossed it to the floor with a dull thud, then pushed your back onto the bed behind you. 

the springs bounced under your weight, and you both laughed as he climbed on top of you. his lips met yours again as his hands trailed down your sides, down to the waistband of your pants. he was careful as he eased them down your legs, with you lifting your hips from the bed to make it just a little easier for him. you could feel him grin into your kiss as you were left bare beneath him, a welcome sight he never grew tired of. you were perfection, every scar and stretch mark, it was all for him to love. and love he did, pulling back from your lips to trail kisses down your neck, along your collarbone, over the tops of your breasts as his hands worked to unclasp your bra and toss it aside. he lavished you, those little moans and sighs like music to his ears.

“feels so good, buck,” you whispered, carding your fingers through his hair. you felt him smile against your skin, and he pressed a kiss to your hardening nipple.

“mm, tell me again,” he all but purred, a sucker for the praise. your smile was relaxed as 

he continued his path down, down, down your body. he kissed over your hips, his teeth pulling at the waistband of your panties and gently snapping them against your skin, all to hear that giggle he loved so much fall from your lips. his index fingers hooked under the material, and soon, your panties joined the pile of clothes off to the side. his hands braced on your thighs, he spread your legs, and you were on full display for him.

“gorgeous,” he whispered, and you felt your face heat up as your smiled. but that smile quickly vanished as he licked a bold stripe up your soaking cunt, watching as you shivered. his eyes bore into yours, and to your credit, you remained propped up on your forearms, watching him devour you.

“oh my god, bucky,” you whispered, shifting your balance to one arm so your free hand could grip his hair. “feels so good …”

he practically growled against you, burying his face between your folds. the wet sounds coming from between your legs were obscene as he licked, teased, and sucked. the tip of his tongue traced over your clit, his hands keeping your thighs from closing until he wanted them to. 

“c’mon, keep going,” he murmured against you, and you let out a whine.

“shit … god, you’re the best i’ve ever had,” you breathed, and he nodded, giving your thigh a squeeze of encouragement. god, he was a sucker for your sweet words.

“n-no one knows me like you do,” you continued, watching his eyes flutter shut. “just like that, oh my god.”

you could feel your walls clenching, but before you could really let go, he pulled back from your cunt, his face shining with your slick. it really was a glorious sight. before you could whine in protest, he came back up and captured your lips in a kiss, and you could taste yourself on his tongue. your eyes shut in bliss, and you heard the sound of fabric moving, then you felt just how hard for you he was. it made butterflies erupt in your stomach, and when you felt him brush the tip of his aching length against your folds, a way of asking for permission, you nodded, unable to really think straight. you felt him slowly ease into you, your back arching as his head fell to your neck. once you both adjusted, he was setting a steady pace, one of his arms going around your waist, and the other hiking your leg up for the angle you loved so much.

“mm, ah … right there, just like that,” you whispered.

“tell me how much you love it,” he groaned, desperate to hear that praise.

“love it so much, bucky. no one’s ever made me feel as good as you do. shit, right there, oh fuck.”

he grunted and sucked a red mark into your neck, your praise making his hips snap forward with a newfound fervor. the new pace had you gripping his hair and and shoulder, your fingertips pressing into his skin.

“that’s it, no one else is ever gonna touch you like this, yeah?”

“mhm, no one else—fuck—is gonna touch me like this. only you, only ever you. no one else could make me cum like you do, as many times as you do …” you whimpered, and he chuckled, the sound breathy.

“damn straight. now, be a good girl and cum on my cock,” he murmured, reaching down with his right hand to toy with your clit. you mewled softly, your toes curling as you held onto him just that much tighter, and he planted kisses along your neck again. with the sensation of his fingers combined with his steady thrusts, you were a goner. your eyes squeezed shut, your lips parted, and your orgasm practically shook your whole body. he could feel you quivering underneath him, and his thrusts got a bit faster, and more intense. you were oh so sensitive now, just the way he liked you, and your whimpers drove him over the edge. 

he came with a groan, his head falling to your collarbone as his muscles twitched and his body stilled. he practically collapsed on top of you, and you let our a breathy laugh, the hand that was gripping his shoulder now rubbing his back.

“that was amazing,” you murmured. “you were amazing.”

“of course i was,” he muttered, tilting his head to look at you with a tired grin. “gotta earn those sweet words from you.”

[chvoswxtch]

let's play

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader x derek morgan x spencer reid

summary: sharing is caring, afterall.

warnings: once again, every single one of them. swearing, spencer whimpering, daddy hotch, derek morgan's blinding charming ass smile, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 4.9k

a/n: the highly requested and anticipated sequel to slumber party has arrived. once again, there is no plot, bc none of you came here for that. you don't have to read part one to understand this installment, but it is highly encouraged. please enjoy this lil valentine's treat from me to you. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

Before Hotch or Derek even had a chance to step foot into Spencer’s hotel room, Spencer had kicked it shut behind himself after ushering you inside. The two men exchanged looks of confusion, glancing between each other and the closed door in front of them. Derek held his bag by the handles over his shoulder in one hand, and when he went to twist the knob on the door, it was locked. He raised his fist to lightly knock against the door.

“Hey Reid-”

“Come back in an hour.”

Derek’s ebony brows instantly pinched together, and he tossed Hotch an incredulous look over his shoulder.

“What’d he just say?”

Hotch’s permanent scowl abruptly returned to his sharp features as he stepped forward, raising his fist to pound harshly against the door.

“Reid, open this door, now.”

“In an hour.”

Derek let out a scoff, dropping his bag onto the floor with a loud thud.

“What happened to sharing, pretty boy?”

“We will, in fifty-nine minutes.”

Spencer’s voice was somewhat muffled through the thickness of the door, and it sounded far away, like he was deeper inside the room. Before either of them could say another word, a loud moan suddenly sounded from inside that clearly belonged to you. Hotch clenched his jaw while Derek stepped forward with an expression of pure irritation.

“Reid, either you open this door, or I’m kicking it down so help me-”

Hotch placed his palm against Derek’s chest and gave a slight shake of his head. Without another word, Hotch reached into his pocket and produced a room key, and in one swipe, a click followed by a flashing green light signaled that the door was unlocked. Hotch twisted the knob and pushed the door open, stepping into the room with Derek hot on his heels. 

Spencer’s head perked up from between your thighs at the abrupt intrusion, his lips and chin already glistening with your arousal, and a concoction of puzzlement and vexation knit his brows together.

“How-”

Hotch held up his right hand with the key card nestled between his index and middle finger, arching one of his thick brows in a pointed expression.

“You think I don’t have a master key to each of my agent’s rooms for emergency purposes?”

While on his knees in front of the bed with his hands clamped firmly around your soft thighs, Spencer stared at the key in Hotch’s hand as if it had personally wronged him. He hadn’t planned for that. He had planned on having you all to himself for an hour before he had to share.

“Son of a bitch.”

Derek’s mouth instantly parted into an amused tooth bearing grin at Spencer’s outburst of realization, and he chuckled while crossing his arms over his chest, causing his light gray t-shirt to stretch over his firm chest and large biceps.

“Nothing like a pretty girl to slice that genius IQ right in half. Isn’t that right, baby girl?”

Raising up on your elbows on the bed, you glanced over at Derek with a faint smirk as you arched one of your brows in a teasing gesture.

“I don’t know what you’re getting cocky about. He’s the one with the eidetic memory of the female anatomy and what I like.”

“Oh it’s like that, huh? Do I need to remind you who in this room has the most practice with female anatomy? Cause I seem to remember you feeling pretty satisfied on the jet earlier.”

Slipping your hand down into the mess of light brown curls on top of Spencer’s head, you gave his hair a gentle tug to guide his mouth back to where you wanted it, a silent command he happily obliged. Feeling the warmth of Spencer’s wet tongue starting to glide slowly over your clit again, you laid back against the mattress once more and closed your eyes while a soft sigh emitted from your parted lips.

“A little refresher course never hurt anyone. Take a seat, boys. Dr. Reid is giving an oral presentation.”

Whatever argument Hotch or Derek had quickly died on their tongues as they became entranced watching Spencer sensually and slowly eat your pussy from his spot on his knees at the edge of the bed. The four of you had spent the past twelve hours since the jet landed making your rounds at the police station, visiting the scene of the crime, and the medical examiner’s office before Hotch finally decided it was time to check into the hotel. All of you were beyond exhausted, but none of you could stop thinking about what was going to happen the second the four of you were finally alone together.

There had been a buzzing energy surrounding the four of you since you stepped off the jet with the promise of more in the back of everyone’s minds.

As much as their hands were itching to touch you, Hotch and Derek couldn’t tear their eyes away from the enticing show taking place in front of them. The way your body writhed gently against the mattress, the rhythm of your hips rolling back and forth against Spencer’s face like a delicate ocean tide, the soft and hedonistic noises of pleasure that rose in volume and pitch as Spencer devoured you like a man on death row savoring his last meal.

“At least we found a way to shut him up.”

Hotch softly grinned at Derek’s quiet quip while reaching up to loosen the knot on his tie completely, slipping it from around his neck. 

“Silver lining. Help her get more comfortable, would you?”

Derek grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it carelessly behind himself. As soon as his belt was unbuckled, he kicked off his shoes and pushed his jeans down to his ankles to step out of them, leaving him in a white pair of briefs that were already bulging from his half hard cock.

“Way ahead of you.”

Taking a few steps over towards the large bed, Derek moved to sit on his knees right behind your head and leaned forward to grab the bottom of your dress that was bunched up around your hips. He pulled it upwards to slip it off of you, leaving you completely exposed. The cool temperature in the room quickly had your nipples rising to stiff peaks, and you shivered when Derek’s large and warm hands began to squeeze your breasts firmly. Letting your eyes flutter open, you stared up into Derek’s deep and warm chocolate brown eyes as he flashed you that charming grin that never failed to make you weak in the knees.

“Reid putting his mouth to good use?”

Sinking your top teeth into your bottom lip, you arched your back slightly off the mattress and moaned in response as Spencer trapped your clit between his soft lips and began to suck fervently. In return, you gave his hair a rough tug which had a moan of his own vibrating against your soaked cunt. The vibrations echoed throughout your trembling thighs, and your stomach felt tight with anticipation for what was coming, and what would follow afterwards.

Derek toyed with your sensitive nipples, alternating between flicking his thumbs over them, rolling them between his thumb and index finger, and pinching gently. He leaned over you, teasingly gliding his tongue in a languid circle around your hardened nub before sucking it into his mouth and biting down gently, causing you to tug harder at Spencer’s unruly roots. The combination of the stimulation from Derek and Spencer was almost too much, and it had you barreling towards euphoria quickly.

Opening your eyes, you were immediately drawn to the sight of Hotch sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, watching intently while a haze of lust darkened his eyes to the deepest shade you had ever seen them. He was still fully dressed in his suit, but he held his tie tightly in his right hand, and a jolt of excitement rushed through your nervous system.

“Who’s that for?”

Hotch lifted his gaze from Spencer’s head between your thighs to meet your eyes, and a wicked smirk tugged at the edge of his mouth.

“Now if I told you, that would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?”

Oh.

Hotch was in the mood to play. 

The more comfortable the four of you got with your little arrangement, the more everyone started to see the real version of one another in the bedroom. Out of the three men, Hotch was by far the most dominant, and enjoyed being in complete control, which wasn’t really a surprise to anyone. But the fetishes that lurked beneath the surface did catch you off guard from time to time. 

Derek wasn’t too keen on being tied up, unless you talked him into it on rare occasions, so you and Spencer were usually the object of Hotch’s bondage fantasies. You didn’t realize you would enjoy being completely at someone else’s mercy so much, but with Hotch, you found it incredibly erotic. Everything he did was to maximize your pleasure. He may have liked being in control, but out of the three of them, he definitely took the cake for being a giver.

The second Spencer gently grazed his teeth over your sensitive clit, your orgasm unexpectedly crashed over you without warning, and your body seized up while repetitive cries of pleasure tore through your chest. Gripping the sheets so hard in your fists your knuckles turned stark white, you tried to weakly pull away from Spencer’s delectable assault on your overstimulated clit, but Derek held your hips down firmly so that Spencer could continue to ravenously collect every drop you had to offer. 

The line between pleasure and pain was beginning to blur, and relief only came when Hotch grabbed Spencer by his hair and tugged his head backwards before pulling him up to his feet. Spencer’s pupils were completely blown open with lust, and his lips were somewhat swollen as they glistened with the burst of gratification he had wrung from you. He was lightly panting trying to catch his own breath.

“That’s enough.”

“But I-”

“You get to fuck her when I say you can. Understood?”

Spencer’s hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, one of his physical tells that he was aroused and trying to contain himself. He swallowed thickly and nodded his head in silent obedience. The deep and calm tone of Hotch’s voice was laced with a delicate warning, letting all three of you know that there was no room for debate regarding who was in control tonight.

You didn’t call him “Daddy of the BAU” for nothing.

“Yes sir.”

Releasing his grip on Spencer’s hair, Hotch grabbed onto the back of his neck instead and pulled him in to kiss him deeply, swiping his tongue along Spencer’s bottom lip and biting it roughly while humming in appreciation at the taste of you that lingered. A low growl sounded from deep within Hotch’s chest as he let go of Spencer.

“Good boy. Get undressed and switch places with Morgan.”

While Derek and Spencer swapped places, you moved to sit up on wobbly knees, and Hotch stepped forward to capture your jaw in his large hand, his ring and pinky finger resting along your neck against your pulse point to feel the thrum of your pounding heartbeat. His thumb brushed along your bottom lip lightly, and a flash of pure lust eclipsed over his darkened eyes when you wrapped your lips around it and pressed your tongue firmly against the pad of his thumb. He bent down to where your noses were just barely an inch apart.

“Do you think you could handle two of us at once, sweetheart?”

Your eyes instantly lit up at the question. Normally they all took turns with you, or one fucked you while you sucked another off. You had only taken two of them at once twice before, and while it caused a lingering ache for the following days after, it was absolutely worth it. Nodding your head eagerly, Hotch let out a dark chuckle as a crooked grin split across his lips.

“Good girl.”

Tearing his gaze away, Hotch looked at Derek and tossed him the tie that was in his hand, gesturing with his head towards Spencer’s direction.

“I want his hands tied to the bed.”

Derek turned to look down at Spencer with an amused smirk, taking a step closer towards the edge of the bed as he straightened out the tie in his hands.

“You heard ‘em, pretty boy. Lemme see those hands.”

Spencer let out a whine of protest, turning his head to look at Hotch with a pleading expression, but Hotch gave a firm shake of his head while slipping his jacket off of his broad shoulders and down his arms. 

“You follow the rules, you get what you want. You act like a brat, you get treated like one. Next time, you open the door when I tell you to. Give Morgan your hands.”

While Derek slipped the fabric around Spencer’s wrists in an intricate labyrinth to bind them together and tied them to the headboard with Hotch’s tie, Hotch took his time unbuttoning his dress shirt. You watched over your shoulder as Derek expertly weaved the tie around Spencer’s wrists with a soft pout on your lips.

“Don’t think I forgot about you.”

Before you had a moment to process the sound of Hotch unbuckling his belt, he grabbed your hips and twisted your body around to face Spencer, and just as quickly pulled your arms behind your back. Grabbing your wrists in one of his large hands, Hotch slipped the leather of his belt around them to secure your wrists together tightly. Your lips parted in surprise while you gazed down at Spencer below you. His arms were raised above his head, wrists crossed one over the other and bound to the headboard by Hotch’s black tie, the pupils of his eyes blown so wide they nearly obscured the hazel ring of his irises.

Your eyes fell to the sight of his hard cock, fully erect and standing proud to attention, the swollen tip a deep shade of rose and glossed over with weeping arousal. You could see the muscles in his lower abdomen tighten as you noticed him very tenuously flexing his hips upwards against nothing in search of friction. 

“He looks pretty like this, doesn’t he?”

Hotch whispered lowly in your ear, the warmth of his breath against your delicate skin causing you to shudder in response and arch your back subtly. 

“Yes.”

“Tell him.”

Staring down directly into Spencer’s eyes, a soft whimper caught in your throat while a fresh tide of arousal leaked between your thighs.

“You look so pretty like this, Spence.”

Hotch’s rough hands firmly gripped onto your hips as he pressed his bare chest flush against your back. You could feel his hard cock pressing against your lower back, and you instinctively pushed your ass back against him which caused him to dig his blunt nails into your soft flesh.

“Behave.”

Hotch quietly hissed between clenched teeth. Brushing your hair off your bare shoulder, he nuzzled his nose against the column of your neck and took your earlobe between his teeth, biting down roughly before gliding his tongue along the shell of your ear. A quiet shuddering breath slipped past your lips, and you could feel Hotch grin against your neck.

“Now, listen closely. I want you to ride Spencer while I fuck you from behind, and I want you to open that pretty mouth nice and wide to take Derek’s cock. Understood?”

Derek reached out to cradle your jaw in his large hand, gently tugging your bottom lip down with his thumb as he leaned in and pressed a teasing kiss right beneath your ear, whispering in a sultry voice.

“Think you can handle that, baby girl?”

“She can handle it. She’s a good girl.”

Despite being bound to the bed, Spencer’s voice had a rough and somewhat dominant cadence to it as he spoke matter of factly. All three men shared a knowing look between each other before Hotch smacked his palm against your ass, drawing your attention back to the present with a soft gasp tearing from your lips, reminding you that he expected an answer. Swallowing thickly, you nodded eagerly in a breathless voice.

“Yes.”

Derek arched one of his onyx brows as he slipped his hand down from your jaw down to your throat, giving it a faint squeeze.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes sir.”

Derek’s lips parted into a dazzling proud grin. He slipped his hand down between your thighs, his index and middle finger experimentally slipping inside your soaked cunt while his thumb teasingly brushed over your sensitive clit. A sharp moan tore from your chest while you clamped your thighs around Derek’s hand, and his dark brown eyes flickered over your shoulder to give Hotch a slight nod of his head.

“Oh she’s more than ready.”

A whimper escaped your lips when Derek retracted his hand and lifted his fingers to his lips to lick them clean. Hotch lifted you up slightly to move you forward, causing you to straddle Spencer’s hips. Both of you let out a piercing whine as the head of his throbbing cock brushed against your pulsing clit, and as a deep chuckle rumbled in Hotch’s chest, you felt it vibrating against your back.

“Good. Then let’s play.”

Reaching down between you and Spencer, Derek wrapped his hands around the base of Spencer’s hard cock, which had Spencer hissing softly and lightly shifting his hips upwards. As Hotch gripped onto your hips and guided you forward, Derek assisted in aligning your body to help you slowly sink down on Spencer’s cock. Spencer had been watching earnestly, but as soon as your welcoming heat enveloped him completely and he bottomed out inside of you, his head fell back against the pillows as he let out a strangled moan, his jaw going slack and his eyes screwed shut. 

“Oh f-fuck…”

Spencer was by far the most vocal out of the three of them, and it always filled you with a rush of excitement being able to tear such alluring noises from his pretty mouth.

Giving you only a few seconds to adjust, Hotch placed his palm between your shoulder blades and pushed you forwards, causing you to lean over Spencer completely while Derek moved your hair away from your face. The only reason you hadn’t fallen over was because Hotch had a tight hold on the belt that was bound around your wrists, keeping you suspended in the exact position he wanted you in. Spitting into his palm, Hotch used his saliva as a lubricant to coat the length of his cock as he positioned himself behind you, lifting your hips slightly to make you arch your back and align your ass further up into the air.

“Take a deep breath for me, baby.”

Sucking in a sharp inhale, you dug your nails deeply into the skin of your palms in anticipation. Hotch reached around your body to strum his index and middle finger in quick circles over your clit, ripping a surprised moan from deep within your chest. Thanks to the orgasm Spencer had given you, your body was more relaxed, and your pussy was still slick with your release which made it easier for Hotch to join Spencer inside you. When you felt the blunt head of Hotch’s cock nudging against Spencer’s and slowly stretching you out inch by divine inch, your jaw became fully unhinged and your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head.

“Ohmygod-”

The voice that echoed from your throat didn’t even sound like it belonged to you. It was depleted of oxygen and came out in such a rush that your own ears had trouble unscrambling the words. The sound of Hotch letting out a guttural moan behind you sounded like thunder booming right in your ears. The serrated sting between your thighs was impossible to ignore as your spongy walls were stretched to accommodate them both, but the discomfort paled in comparison to the succulent fullness that you felt. Hotch continued to stimulate jolts of pleasure by strumming your clit with his index and middle fingers, trying to help your body to relax and adjust to the new and overwhelming intrusion. 

“Shh…there you go. Just breathe, baby girl.”

Derek was lovingly stroking his fingers through your hair while reminding you to perform such a basic subconscious action. As you struggled to suck in deep breaths, Spencer was impatiently thrusting his hips upwards in a slow rhythm, his biceps flexing while he tugged at the restraints on his wrist. Hotch gripped onto your hips tightly to keep you from falling on top of Spencer, his blunt nails leaving crescent shaped indentations on your soft hips. Once he felt the tension evaporate and your muscles loosening, he started to flex his hips forward to match Spencer’s delicate rhythm.

The composition of their conduction had your body swaying to the idle tempo they had silently established. Spencer and Hotch held you securely between their thighs, gliding back and forth over your delicate strings, coaxing legato notes of pleasure from your lips. 

Once Derek could see that you were completely relaxed and ready for more, he moved in closer and brushed his thumb along your bottom lip, a silent signal you instantly obeyed by parting your lips eagerly. A deep sigh of appreciation sounded from Derek’s chest when he slowly slipped his cock past your lips, and he gently traced his thumb along your cheekbone while you moaned at the feeling of his velvet weight caressing your tongue. 

This was the first time you had ever taken all three of them at once like this, and it was almost entirely too overwhelming. Every single one of your senses was overstimulated. 

Despite the three of them wearing starkly unique colognes, it was impossible to discern which smell belonged to who. Each of their scents perfectly mixed in with your own, creating one indistinguishable fragrance that enveloped you entirely and left you feeling intoxicated and light headed. Your skin was overheated already from the intensity of the moment, but also from the warmth that radiated naturally from each one of them; Hotch’s chest flush against your back, Derek’s palms caressing your cheeks, and Spencer’s thighs lightly smacking against your own. 

Even though your heart was pounding in your ears to the point of being deafening, you could hear the heavenly noises escaping each of them. Spencer was whimpering beneath you, begging for you to ride him harder. Derek was panting breathlessly above you, whispering softly how good you felt. Hotch was letting out deep growls and grunts as he moved behind you, demanding lowly in your ear that you take everything he was giving you.

The salty tang of Derek’s leaking arousal coated your tongue, but you could also still taste the roasted blonde espresso from Spencer’s lips and the fresh wintergreen mint that lingered on Hotch’s tongue. The pleasure was getting to be too much, and you couldn’t hardly keep your eyes open. You weren’t even on the brink of another orgasm yet, but there was already a firework show happening behind your eyelids. 

Something about this moment was so incredibly perfect, like this was where you all belonged. 

Together.

This wasn’t just about sex. It never had been. A piece of you had always belonged to each of them, and vice versa, ever since that first night in Vegas. There was just something about the four of you together that couldn’t be explained, but you all felt it every time you were with each other like this.

A single reaction from one of you set off a chain reaction for the rest of you. Hotch started to snap his hips in more powerful and precise thrusts, causing you to grind down harder on Spencer’s cock, and the vibrations of you moaning around Derek’s cock caused his own rhythm to become sloppy and falter when he began to fuck your face. 

The air in the hotel room was thick with heat and sweat like a sauna, and a cacophony of intermingled moans and grunts of satisfaction grew louder and louder the closer you all got to reaching a peak as grand as Everest. The second one of you jumped off the top to free fall, the rest of you would follow.

Spencer was the first to break. He was so far gone he couldn’t even get a warning out, but the second he released inside of you with a loud shout of your name, his spasming hips caused his pubic bone to bump against your clit repeatedly just right to set off your own orgasm. Hotch was fucking you relentlessly from behind as he chased his own high, and the contraction of your walls combined with the flood of yours and Spencer’s release made him double over as he grunted loudly, resting his forehead against your middle back while pumping his seed deeper and deeper within you. Derek was the last to fall apart. He let his head fall back while closing his eyes, his beautiful features twisted up in pure ecstasy as he let out a sensual moan while spilling down your throat.

The four of you were stuck together in a sweaty pile on the bed and no one wanted to move. Derek slowly slipped his softened cock from your lips so you could gasp for air, and he gently ran his fingers through your hair to help you calm down. Hotch did his best to carefully pull out, but the sudden movement had you crying out and tensing up. Hotch peppered gentle kisses along your shoulder blades, shushing you quietly while removing the leather restraint of his belt from your wrists and massaging them gently. Without him holding you up by your hips, you collapsed face first into Spencer’s chest.

When Derek freed Spencer’s wrists from the headboard, Spencer immediately wrapped his arms securely around your trembling frame and cradled your head against his chest. He didn’t dare move, letting himself soften inside of you as he held you there, pressing his lips to your forehead in a soft kiss and delicately carding his fingers through your hair.

Each one of you were panting hard, trying to regain your bearings from such an intense experience, but they had catapulted you so far up into the clouds, you weren’t sure you could ever make it down. It felt as if you had stuck your finger into an outlet, sending an intense shock throughout your entire body, the lingering electricity still crackling with the faintest jolts of motion. Their voices were distant and muffled, like your head was underwater, and you couldn’t focus on anything except the blackness that pulled over the entire horizon behind your eyelids.

Moments later, something cold and wet was pressed against the back of your neck, causing a shiver to spread throughout your body. When your eyes lazily fluttered open, you were met with the dim light of the hotel room, and as you slowly lifted your head, Spencer began to come into focus in front of you. He was laying back against the pillows watching you, holding a washcloth soaked in cold water against the back of your neck while still slipping his fingers through your hair with his other hand. He gently wiped the washcloth over both of your heated cheeks and flashed you a dopey grin.

“Welcome back to Earth, pretty girl.”

A faint blush tinted your cheeks as you looked at him with a tired smile, humming softly while nuzzling into the warmth of his body as you hugged him. “Hi.”

Hearing the sweet and sleepy mumble from your lips, Spencer leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Hotch and Morgan went to grab us some dinner. They’ll be back in a bit. How are you feeling?”

“Sticky.”

Spencer erupted in laughter at the adorable pout on your lips, nodding as he brushed a strand of your hair out of your face.

“There were a lot of bodily fluids being exchanged.”

“Okay, it sounds gross when you say it like that.”

“Is ‘you did have three guys come inside you at once’ better?”

Scrunching up your nose, you weakly lifted your hand to press your index finger against Spencer’s soft lips with a quiet laugh.

“Please shut up.”

Spencer chuckled as he pressed a soft kiss to your finger, tossing the wet washcloth onto the nightstand by the bed.

“Fine. How about a shower?”

“Too much standing.”

“A bath?”

Pretending to think it over, you eventually let out a soft exhale while gazing into Spencer’s hazel eyes with a teasing grin.

“Spencer Reid, you’re a genius.”

The edge of Spencer’s lips tugged upwards into a playful smirk, and he rolled his eyes at your lame joke. He moved to sit up, slipping one of his arms underneath your knees and his other around your waist so he could lift you up into his embrace to carry you towards the bathroom.

“So I’ve been told.”

tags: @mars-rants-a-lot @ninejloveb0t @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @Vane28282 @kmc1989 @viscade @starsm00n @kenseverything @storiesofsvu @sabage101 @spiritofthewriter  @geeksareunique @urlocalgeek @avencol

[reader-wandering18]

Yuu Professor

In the staff room, Yuu leaned back in his chair as he sighed deeply.

—I see you’re too tired, Professor Yuu.

— Professor Trein.

— He’s the youngest of us all, try not to intimidate him, Professor Trein.

— What are you trying to say, Professor Crewel?

Yuu felt like he was in the middle of a clash between two mountains. He was afraid his life would end before he even started at that school.

— Come on, get along, we have to make a good impression on the new teacher!

Professor Vargas had arrived, grabbing Yuu by the collar of his shirt and pulling him into a tight hug as if they were old classmates. Although with his large muscles, Yuu felt suffocated.

— If you need anything, you’re more than welcome to come to the Mystery Shop. We have great promotions this year.

Sam handed him a business card.

Professor Crewel was right when he said he was younger than all of them, he was only 27 years old and to top it off… he had no experience in being a teacher.

“It was all because of that incident”

While he was undercover due to his previous job, he was caught in the crossfire between two strangers. Both of them were apparently killed and to top it off, one of them was the new teacher at Night Raven College that year who was mistaken for him.

He had no intention of entering that school and taking that teacher’s place.

When he was ready to escape, he found himself in the school surrounded by a magical field with no way out unless he asked the headmaster for permission.

If he speaks now, he would get into big trouble and have charges like identity theft, possible murder (when he didn’t) and if they were to investigate further…

“Two years, my contract period is only for two years”

Nothing bad could happen.

He would like to kill his past self.

— RIDDLE!

A case of Blot had appeared in front of him.

And soon, a series of them in that prestigious school.

“What the hell have I gotten myself into?!”

Yuu activated a magic shield to protect himself and the students.

Riddle’s blows were fierce, clearly aggravating his anger at the moment, causing the earth to tremble… But the shield showed no signs of breaking.

“That damn crow had said he would bring more teachers, but he hasn’t returned for a while now!”

All the students had evacuated, except for four stubborn young men.

— WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? Get out of the dorm immediately!

— I can’t do it, Professor. I can’t leave Riddle as he is now.

— I refuse, he still hasn’t apologized to me!

“These damn proud brats.”

— Worrying about you shortens my life,— he said in a whisper.

— Don’t leave the shield or I will punish you!

— Professor!

Yuu stepped forward, holding his staff firmly, the wood looked ancient, there was also a design made of pure silver with complicated runes, the magic gem was on top with an exquisite crimson hue.

The moment he stepped out of the magic shield, air bullets pierced the rose bushes leaving nothing but small pieces resembling toothpicks.

It had all happened in the blink of an eye.

Riddle was shocked by the speed at which the master had released the magic. He hadn’t uttered a single word or seemed to have hesitated when it came to making projectiles with the air element!

The strength of the magic power they released could be compared to the cannons of a warship.

— It’s incredible.

Yuu walked towards Riddle with his head held high and only one thought in his head.

“ You are too young to waste your life”

Riddle came back to his senses, thanks to Professor Yuu's intervention. He was taken to the school infirmary after waking up and talking to everyone.

Though Ace, seeing him cry, could only behave as Ace would.

Seeing that moment of conviviality between students, Yuu decided to take a step back and leave that dorm. His rush to flee was also to avoid cleaning Heartslabyul's dorm, which had practically been left in ruins because of him.

"I'm really tired, let the students take care of it."

After a week, in a lonely classroom, Yuu found himself grading his students' homework.

"How can this guy be in charge of teaching him at three years old?!"

The identity he had accidentally taken was not only that of a teacher, but also that of a high-level magician. If anyone else who hadn't studied magic as exhaustively as he had, they would be in serious trouble.

But this coincidence sent shivers down his spine.

That guy, despite being a high-level magician, has no family or friends who can get him into trouble if they see him. Also his age and appearance.

It was as if the role was made for him.

Knock knock

Yuu was startled but didn't show it, his eyes went to the classroom door where he found three students from Heartslabyul. One of them was holding a strawberry cake.

— Teacher, may I come in?

— Clover, Diamond, and Rosehearts. Come in.

With magic, Yuu arranged all his documents and before he could ask the reason for his visit, Riddle put that strawberry cake in its place.

— This is a thank you for helping me.

Seeing the shiny cake in front of him, Yuu couldn't speak for a moment.

— As an educator, I must take care of my students. You don't need to give me a strawberry cake.

— Come on, teacher, the dorm leader made it with so much effort for you!

— Carter!

Riddle scolded the blonde haired boy, though seeing the blush on his face was not something he could hide.

—This is a cake I made as an apology for the trouble I caused. Before the no unbirthday party, I want you to be the first to taste the cake.

Hearing those words, Yuu couldn’t help but look at Riddle tenderly. The overstain is caused by the negative feelings of wizards. It’s something that simply can’t be controlled and he was burdened by his past.

“I still feel a little uneasy knowing that I was able to see his past. It’s really strange.”

He cut the first piece of cake and as he brought it to his mouth.

“This is really salty!”

Hahahaha here I leave you another part of Master Yuu living with heartslabyul, there will be more interactions with the other students, I hope it is to your liking.

PD information: In order not to make Riddle feel bad, Yuu did not tell him that his strawberry cake was too salty. So that was how Ace along with Deuce, Trey and Carter ate the other cakes that he had made beforehand. Yuu couldn't throw away the cake so he endured having to eat it.

One more thing, I probably won't upload anything in the next few weeks, more than anything unfortunately I'm a student so right now I'm full of projects. I already have the two chapters of Darkness ready as well as more ideas of Yuu from other worlds but honestly they don't convince me so I haven't been able to upload them and I also don't have time to edit them but in my free time I plan to move forward.

Slowly but surely.

[circlebuttons]

Rafe on Love Island

- this is a throw away rant because of how obsessed i am w love island us rn. I feel like Rafe would be a mix of leah and rob with a bit of caine for rule breaking.

-

You get coupled with Rafe in love island on the very first night. When all the guys walked in your eyes were on him immediately, he's taller and broader than everyone else in his sharp grey suit with his white button down being unbuttoned just a tad. The closer he gets you notice that his eyes are already locked on you. His eye contact makes your heart race and the cherry on top is the sly smirk that creeps up on his face when you lean over to the two girls you already befriended in such a short time and quietly inform them that, "Buzzcut is mine." He scoffs out a silent laugh on account of you never look away from him once or block your lips from being able to be read. You're the first person he introduces himself too, holding your hand firmly and probably for a bit too long.

He sits on the couch facing you and during the icebreaker questions you learn that Rafe Cameron is a man who's lived a lot of lives but is now a certified businessman, looking to find his first ever stable relationship. The most important thing you learn is that your feelings of attraction are mutual when he pulls a card that reads "Kiss the islander who you think is a gold digger"

His eyes immediately land you and he clarifies to everyone that he's picking you not because he thinks your a gold digger, but because he'd rather have you be his sugar baby, it's all about perspective at the end of the day.

"You can take all my money" he mumbles before kissing you gently at first with a coy hand on your neck, but you're the one to deepen it and he follows your lead immediately before you break apart, softly saying, "Nice to meet you" while using your finger to wipe the rouge lip combo that you both are now wearing.

There's no doubt in your mind when picking Rafe to couple up with. After the coupling Rafe is on your heels following you like a puppy to an area of couches where you're meant to get to know each other a bit better before sharing a bed. There he asks a lot more questions about yourself, hanging onto every word that leaves your mouth. You eventually leave to go get ready for bed and he reluctantly separates from you, being the first one under the covers laying awake with bright eyes when you climb in on the other side of him. "Courtesy pillow?" he asks looking at you cautiously. "Not unless you need it, I'll behave for the first night" you smirk at him before turning to your side and getting comfortable and little do you know how long he stares at the ceiling replaying every event from today, avoiding reminiscing on the kiss to avoid becoming to worked up, but worked up nonetheless because he feels insane for falling for a girl this fast into the game.

That morning Rafe wakes up with a smile on his face for the first time in ages and he wakes up like that everyday in the villa because no matter what it's always you. He's nothing short of obsessed with you, just as much as you are him, but the two of you being head over heels doesn't make for good tv until Rafe starts playing more defensively. The first male bombshells that get added to the villa get nothing but glares from him as they get way to comfortable with you in the games and attempt to pull you for chats while you're literally right next to him. Production had made it clear that it was off limits to physically fight, so Rafe had to settle for pulling in other guys for secret "chats" instead where he'd just loom over them and make sure it was understood you were happy being coupled with him.

Production would have to step in again to remind rafe that it was also against the rules to hinder filming in anyway meaning saying blunt no's when another girl tries to pull him or turning his head when the objective of a game is to kiss. It unexpectedly makes better tv when Rafe starts his malicious compliance as he sits either blank or stank faced and awkwardly silent in one on one chats with girls who insist on talking with him and in challenges the cameras capture the disgusted tight lipped faces he makes when he's forced to kiss someone else. You feel the same way he does, you're a bit more complacent with production and don't mind participating. It bothers Rafe sure, but at the end of the day it fuels him seeing you kiss another islander and knowing that he's ten times better than any of these guys will ever be. You and Rafe discussed that you have to do what you have to do for tv, but outside of mini games there was to be exclusivity. Exclusive is a word you use a lot, waiting until the outside to be a real couple.

Although what you don't wait for is having sex in the villa after finding out all the guys left for casa amor. Hearing that Rafe was the only guy to refuse not only made you proud, but surprisingly horny too. Making out at night or even grinding on each other wasn't foreign to either one of you, it's when your hand drifts into Rafe's waistband that he shoots up to flip you under him, eager to finally have all of you. After that night the two of you sneak around fucking like absolute bunnies. You protest weakly every time he starts kissing on your neck, knowing what's about to to happen, mumbling "Fuck me, my moms watching" before you the two of you duck under covers and have the best sex of your lives.

[evansbby]

𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Pete Brenner x reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, SH in the workplace, heavy drug mention, sleazy Pete, heavy misogyny, I can't believe I wrote this, a lot of sex, yeah idek, 18+ minors dni. 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Pete Brenner hires a new assistant. 𝐀/𝐍: I cannot believe I wrote this. For him. Ew. Brb gonna go take a shower. This is pretty bad as well, like the pacing is wack and the reader's personality changes halfway through the fic?? Idek, I did this thing where I changed the scene every time I felt bored. Enjoy, I guess???

“Just so we’re clear, I’m only hiring you because you’re hot.”

He bends down over his desk, sniffing harshly. You stand there nervously watching him as he straightens up, his nose twitching. You catch a glimpse of white beneath he clears his throat and wipes it off. His eyes – a pretty blue – have an almost wild, excited look about them. But the rest of his face is a contradiction… he looks both calculated and amused as he licks his lips and makes his way over to you.

“That means I want to see you in short skirts, dress, that kind of shit, okay? And some pretty makeup.” His eyes dance over your body, taking in your curves. You’d worn a knee-length pencil skirt and white blouse for the interview with him – nothing too scandalous but it did hug your body nicely. Pete seemed to think so, at least, as his gaze remained glued on your cleavage, “Basically, I want you all dolled up because I sure as fuck know there’s no brain up there in your head. I have a real assistant, but you’ll be my other assistant.”

Other assistant. You knew what that meant.

You also know to remain quiet as he leers at you, coming closer till you have to crane your neck to look up at him. His jaw twitches, and his eyes are still glued to your chest. He reaches out, casually unbuttoning the top few buttons of your blouse with just his one hand. The view down your top makes him smirk.

“Tomorrow’s your first day, make sure to wear something sluttier than this. Even the office’s eye candy’s gotta put a little work in, huh, sweetheart?” He gives you a wink as he pats your cheek condescendingly.

You take a deep breath and try to remain calm. You needed this job. You needed the money…

“Yes, Mr. Brenner.”

“Good girl,” he maintains eye contact with you, and it’s hard to look away when his pupils are so blown out. And despite his leery demeanour, he’s got a handsome face, you had to admit. Pretty eyes framed with long lashes, a nice bone structure and strong jawline. His jet-black hair was styled messily – either on purpose or because he kept running his hands through it. He was also tall, his tailored jacket tight around his biceps.

He gives your ass a slap as you leave the room, and you yelp in surprise but continue walking steadily lest you fall over in your high heels.

“See you bright and early tomorrow, sweetheart! I know we’re gonna love working together.”

***

“Ah, fuck yeah, keep going. Mm, just like that. God fucking dammit, you’re such a good little cocksucker, huh?”

Pete’s got one hand firmly carded through your hair, gripping it tightly as he bobs your head up and down on his cock. It’s uncomfortable under his desk, especially with your bare knees rubbing against the hard ground.

You’d showed up to your first day of work today bright and early, in an inappropriately short dress as per your new boss’s request. And Pete had licked his lips hungrily when he’d seen you, dragging you into his office and giving you your first task of the day. Sucking his dick while he sat behind his desk.

“Yeah, that’s right, you little slut, take it. Take my fat daddy dick down your little throat. Fuck yeah,” Pete murmurs. You’d quickly come to realise that Pete was every bit as filthy as you’d assumed he was going to be, spewing out a string of curses every time his mouth opened. He was also rougher than you’d expected, fucking your face relentlessly in a way that had you breathless, your hair a complete mess and your face glistening with sweat.

“Mm, tell me you’re a little cockslut,” He peers down at you with a wolfish grin, taking his dick out of your mouth and tapping your cheek with it not-so-gently.

“ ‘m a cockslut,” you pant, and he slaps you with his cock once more before shoving himself back in your mouth.

“That’s right, just look at those pretty lips wrapped around my cock, I can’t believe–” his voice trails off, and you glance up to see his eyes narrow as he looks out the window of his office and into the hallway. “Ah, shit. My wife’s here. Keep sucking, baby, but be quiet about it.”

He had a wife? You don’t even have time to feel shocked and disgusted with yourself, all you can do is keep bobbing your head up and down as he keeps a firm hold on you.

“PETEY!” A chirpy voice sounds, and you cringe as you hear the door close. She was in this office, while you were giving her husband a blowjob.

“Hey, babe, how’s it hanging?” Pete says casually, his hand leaving your hair as he cracks his knuckles and leans back on his chair. You pray to God his wife doesn’t come any closer, lest you be found out.

She giggles, “Well, come on, silly. You made us lunch reservations at the Rustica Bistro, remember? I got my nails done and everything!”

You hear Pete grimace from above you, either from what his wife has just said or the fact that you’re still blowing him like your life depends on it.

“Ahh, babe, I gotta take a raincheck. You know how it is…” He gestures vaguely at his computer in front of him, “I’ve got a shit ton of work to do, fuck…” He swears under his breath, thrusting his hips upwardly subtly to stuff more of his cock in your mouth.

“Aww, but Pete–”

“No buts, sweetheart. You know I gotta provide for you and the baby, and that means making a few sacrifices here and there,” Pete runs a hand through his hair, and you can see the sweat forming on his brow as you continue to suck him off, trying not to gasp out loud at the fact that he just said he had a baby. “But don’t let those reservations go to waste, sweetie. Why not take what’s-her-name? That broad from accounting?”

“Sally?”

“Yeah, take Sally. Go on, sweetheart, daddy’s busy. I’ll see you at home.”

You’re in awe at how he dismisses his wife, but you inwardly sigh in relief when you hear the clickity clack of her heels followed by the door opening and closing. Pete barks out a laugh, pulling you off his dick as he begins to pump it around his fist.

“That was a close one, huh?”

“Y-You never mentioned that you had a wife! And a child!”

He snorts, cupping your face and angling it so that he’s jacking off over it, a nonchalant look on his face.

“And you accepted a job as the office slut, so I guess we’re both lacking in the morals department, huh, sweetheart?”

***

Being Pete Brenner’s other assistant did have a few perks. Like free reign with his credit card (a separate one that his wife didn’t know about) as well as some nice gifts here and there. Diamond earrings when he was feeling nice; a designer dress when he wanted to be giving. A pearl-encrusted collar when he was on a particularly high power trip.

But the perks came with a lot of degradation. But it’s not like he hadn’t made that clear when he’d offered you the job.

“Now, sweetheart, all you gotta do is refill everyone’s water while us men talk business, alright?”

You nod, straightening out your tight, navy dress while Pete barks out more instructions as he paces around his office. Today was an important meeting about something or the other. You didn’t really understand what it was that Pete did, but you knew it was something to do with pharmaceuticals. You weren’t sure that all their business was legal, but you thought it was best to turn your head the other way when it came to all that.

You stand in the corner of the conference room during the meeting, watching as Pete sits at the head of the table and talks business with a bunch of colleagues. He looks at you and nods slightly, and that’s your cue to walk around and refill everyone’s water with the glass jug in your hand. It’s an easy enough task, but you’re still nervous in your sky-high heels and too-short dress, acutely aware of the way all these middle-aged men leer at you like you’re a piece of candy or an office decoration.

You set the jug down on the table after you’ve finished topping up Pete’s glass, but before you can quietly scurry back to your corner of the room, his large hand wraps around your waist, pulling you into his lap. You almost yelp in surprise, but catch your tongue just in time. You go with the flow, not wanting to cause a scene as Pete casually settles you down on his knee.

You really feel like a decoration now.

“That’s a fine-looking piece of ass you’ve got workin’ for ya, Brenner.” A seedy looking man at the other end of the table grins.

Pete smirks, his hand firmly resting on your bare thigh as you quiver in his lap at the multiple pairs of eyes now staring straight at you. His other hand twirls a bit of your hair round his finger, as if you’re his little doll that he’s finding amusement in showing off and toying with. “She’s a looker, alright. That’s why I hired her, isn’t that right, baby?”

You have no choice but to nod, heat spreading across your cheeks as the whole room erupts in laughter. Pete holds you firmly in his lap throughout the meeting. You try to zone out, since their business and pharmaceutical jargon makes no sense to you, but you keep getting jolted back to reality as Pete continues to fondle you brazenly in front of everyone.

“Don’t think I’d get any work done if I had a broad like her walking around in my office.” A greasy looking man sitting adjacent from you and Pete pipes up.

Pete grins wolfishly, his hand creeping up the hem of your dress while the other one strokes your arm sensually. “Quite the opposite, actually,” he glances at you and winks, “with her around, I get to relieve all my pent-up tension, which makes work a lot easier.”

“Say, Brenner, you look like you gotta relieve some tension right now!” Another guy quips.

Pete smirks, standing up and yanking you up with him, “You’re right, Davidson. I think I do. You gentlemen mind if we take a recess on this meeting?”

His request is met with a chorus of cheerful affirmations, and he drags you off to a small door to the side of the room. The bathroom.

“Th-They’ll all be able to hear us!” You protest as he bends you over the sink, lifting your dress up and giving your bare ass a hard slap.

“That’s the point, sweetheart. It’s hotter with an audience.” He shoves his hand between your legs, pushing your panties aside and slipping two fingers inside you, smirking when he pulls them out to see them glistening, “clearly you find it hot too.”

Pete fucks you in the bathroom while the men cheer him on from the next room. And you scrunch your eyes shut and focus on trying not to moan (because he fucked you so good after all). His balls slap against your skin as he thrusts into you over again, alongside a string of curses (he was always very vocal during sex, no matter where you were).

He’s got a smug look on his face when he’s done. The smugness of a man who made a whole roomful of men hear your screams of pleasure. (You’d had to be vocal in the end, you couldn’t help it. Not when he was rubbing your clit and whispering dirty words in your ear, making your cunt squeeze around him as you came all over his cock).

He takes you straight back into the conference room, setting you down on his lap and continuing the meeting as if nothing even happened.

***

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

You do, only for him to cup your cheeks and blow smoke right into your face. You sputter, trying to turn away but Pete’s got other plans. He presses his lips against yours, giving you the headiest kiss you’ve ever experienced, making you feel light-headed.

He laughs, “You fall for it every time.”

You scowl at him, “One day I’m gonna quit working for you.”

He snorts, taking another drag of his cigarette, “Oh yeah, sweetheart? And then what’re you gonna do?”

“Make a name for myself.”

He seems to find that hilarious, throwing his head back and laughing as if you’ve just cracked the funniest joke in the world. You huff, shrugging away from him and going to stand on the other end of the balcony. It was attached to his office and Pete liked to hang out there sometimes, claimed he appreciated the fresh air. As if he didn’t have a cigarette hanging out of his mouth 24/7.

You look out into the city, admiring the bright lights that made the streets come to life at night. The sound of traffic and the mindless buzz of nightlife that had a knack of making people wonder what they were doing with their life. That’s when you feel something hard pressing against your lower back.

“You know, I always wanted to fuck a girl out here.” Pete pushes your hair to one side, kissing the exposed nape of your neck.

“I’d bet a thousand dollars you’d already have done that.”

He chuckles, his hands slipping up and down your body, feeling you up and fondling you in his specifically sleazy way except it turns you on anyways. “After tonight I will have.”

“It’s late. Shouldn’t you be at home with your wife? Or at least your baby?”

He pushes your dress up till he’s got it bunched around your waist, before hooking his fingers on the elastic of your panties and snapping it against your skin. “What, you think you’re gonna peptalk me into having some kind of moral breakthrough or something?” He tugs your panties down your legs and gives your ass a squeeze, “Sweetheart, you know the kind of man I am. And I know exactly the kind of girl you are.”

The kind that lets her boss fuck her outside on his balcony overlooking the city.

“Fuck yeah, shake that fucking ass on my daddy dick. Make daddy cum, fuck!” Pete grips your hair and yanks your head back, biting and sucking at your neck as he fucks you. You grip the iron railing hard, your mind wiped of everything except the pleasure he was administering to you right now.

“Mm, fuck, daddy! Harder, please!” You moan, grinding back against his dick, feeling the pure, delicious agony of him breaking you in two from the inside out.

He releases inside you with a guttural roar in your ear, and you sigh, following suit as you milk him through his orgasm. Your cunt pulsates with your pleasure, and he holds you tight before bringing his cigarette up to your mouth so you can take a drag. You do, before craning your neck and grabbing his face, blowing the smoke straight past his lips as you kiss him.

***

“The fuck do you mean you’re knocked up? Were you not on the motherfucking pill?”

You sigh. You’d been fucking Pete for half a year now, and in that time you’d had the pleasure of getting to know him on a very personal level. His likes, dislikes, his temperament. You knew him well enough to know that he got extremely melodramatic when he was high. Which is why it maybe wasn’t the best decision on your part to break the news to him when he was coked out, but you’d had no choice… Pete’s sober moments were very few and far between these days.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Pete. I’m pregnant. I took three tests.”

“God-fucking-dammit!” He slams his fist down on his desk repeatedly, before the pain proves too much and that’s when he straightens up, running a hand through his already messy black hair. “I already got my hands full with one brat.”

He loved his son, really. You’d seen him enough times with the kid to know that Pete did indeed have a heart when it came to a child of his own flesh and blood.

“Well, congratulations, daddy. In about nine months, you’ll have another one.”

He narrows his eyes, stumbling over to you and grabbing you by the neck. He pushes back, high off his mind yet still much stronger than you. His lips curled and brows furrowed almost accusatorily, he backs you up against the wall, his face inches from yours.

“You,” he sneers, “When did you get so cynical, huh? Where’s the bright-eyed, naïve girl I hired six months ago?”

You roll your eyes, “I don’t know, Pete, maybe your sleaziness and depravity killed her off.”

He glares at you, and you glare back. It’s an intense stare-down that lasts a handful of seconds before you’re on top of each other. Kissing and ripping each other’s clothes off, not caring that the glass windows of his office aren’t covered with the blinds. The receptionist would get a show, but it was nothing she hadn’t seen before. Pete had no shame, and now, neither did you.

“I find pregnant broads sexy as hell,” he tells you, carrying you over to his desk. He sits down on his chair with you on top of him, “so that’s one thing to look forward to.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“So the fuck are you.”

He shoves his dick into you from below, his fingers gripping your hips so tightly you know he’ll leave bruises. He bounces you up and down on his dick like it’s your job – which, well, it is.

“Your tits will get even bigger, that’s another thing to look forward to,” he whispers in your ear, ripping the top of your dress in half and pushing the cups of your bra down. Your breasts spill out and he goes to town on them, burying his face between them, licking, nipping, biting like you’re his drug of choice for the evening.

You’re confused, scared, even. But that won’t stop you from answering back to him, and so, despite the pleasure he’s making you feel, you shoot him a look of disdain.

“Who says I’m gonna stick around long enough for you to see me like that?”

He yanks you forward by your hair, giving you a rough and almost possessive kiss.

“Sweetheart, don’t kid yourself. I intend on keeping your fine ass around, and besides, it’s not like you have anywhere else to go.”

***

“I do.”

Pete’s wife had left him. Something about running away with a hot Australian lifeguard who happened to also have a hefty trust fund. The divorce was settled quickly (Pete had more money than his now ex-wife was even aware of, so she happily took what she thought was an equal half). Pete had one condition, though. His son had to stay with him.

And then six months later, you found yourself walking down the aisle in a dress of ivory lace, saying “I do” to the man who only a year ago had just been your boss. Now you were the new Mrs. Brenner, a mother to be and a stepmother to a two-year-old to boot.

It was a good thing you liked kids.

“You’re lucky, you know that? Fucked your way to the very top.” Pete says, his hand stroking your very pregnant belly.

You giggle, spreading out on the satin sheets below you. They’re soft and white and expensive, covered in rose petals. Pete had gone all out and booked the honeymoon suite at the Four Seasons, which was the least he could do to make you comfortable after you’d gone through that whole wedding ceremony and reception, all pregnant and uncomfortable and all.

“Not the very top,” you muse, “I could leave you just like your first wife did. Leave you for a richer man.”

Pete scoffs, shrugging his jacket off before rejoining you on the bed, “Honey, if you knew how much money I had in my bank account right now, you’d be licking the bottom of my shoe for the foreseeable future.”

You don’t say anything, instead turning your attention to your ring. You hold up your hand so it catches the light, the hefty diamond sparkling expensively. Just a year ago, you couldn’t even fathom having fifty dollars to your name… And now?

You grow distracted by his hand as it sneaks between your legs. Biting your lip, you suppress a moan when his fingers find your clit. All he has to do is circle your bundle of nerves with his pointer finger and you cum, grabbing his bicep and squealing his name, humping your cunt up against his palm like a wanton whore. All while he grins wolfishly at how easily he can make you come undone.

“It’s just ‘cause I’m pregnant,” you say once you’ve caught your breath, causing his expression to sour.

“Please, Mrs. Brenner. You’ve never had anyone as good as your husband. And you never will, ‘cause it’s all me from now on, you got that?”

“Yes, daddy.”

***

“Oh my gosh, you really shouldn’t have!” You squeal, running over to your new candy pink convertible. Pete stands by the hood, looking extremely pleased with himself.

“Only the best for my wife. Now you can do the day-care runs in style.”

You jump into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing a million kisses on his face. “Thank you, daddy! I love it so much.”

He grins, spinning you around a few times before putting you down, “Happy birthday, babe.”

Your four-year-old son and two-year-old daughter come toddling down the front steps of your mansion, squealing and ooh-ing and aah-ing at your new pink car. Pete looks positively beside himself with glee, scooping both his kids up in his arms so they can get a better look at it.

It only took a few months into being married to you for Pete to realise that he liked the family man lifestyle. And you could tell he liked being a provider, liked showering his family with gifts and spending money on you and the babies more than blowing it all on drugs and strip clubs. It was a shame that it took him two marriages and two different baby mamas to realise that, but at least his ex was living it up in Australia, so there was no love lost there.

“We need to come up with a story when people ask us how we met,” you say one evening as the two of you get ready for bed. You’re sitting in front of your vanity, applying cold cream to your face and neck while Pete does God knows what in the background.

“Easy. My gold-digger assistant got herself knocked up and trapped my ass, and now here we are.” Pete smirks, coming up behind you and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Shut up, you jerk. More like, I took advantage of and sexually harassed my poor, innocent assistant, and the least I could do was marry her after I got her pregnant.” You smile, letting him grab your hand and drag you to the bed.

“Okay, poor, innocent assistant. Why don’t you let daddy put another baby inside you tonight?” He asks, pushing you down on the bed and climbing on top of you, his voice thick with lust as he runs a hand through his messy, black hair.

“So you can accuse me of getting knocked up again?”

“Yeah,” He rips your nightie in half, making you squeal, “That’ll ensure I’m trapped with you for another two years at least.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’ve got the dirtiest mouth, Mrs. Brenner. Maybe that’s why I’m in love with you.”

SFJHKASGD THE END!

If you made it till here... thank you! I think I got possessed last night and today so I wrote this. Sorry besties, but please do let me know what you think! Feedback means everything to me!! I love you guys and now back to our regularly scheduled programming of ARI and STEVE!

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 52 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: As the perfect weekend comes to a close, you start to feel anxious about the way everyone else will perceive the engagement ring on your finger. If you could just stay in your peaceful bubble with the boys, you'd be all set. But Bradley might be about to face something much worse than an unwanted opinion. 

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, pregnancy topics, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

From the moment you woke up on Sunday, Bradley had you melting. "Morning, Mrs. Bradshaw," he mumbled against your bare shoulder, his voice deep and gravelly from sleep. His huge, warm body was pressed against your back, and his lips were soft as a breeze touching your skin.

You bit your lip when his big hand snaked slowly around to your belly, and you whispered, "Morning, Daddy."

His lips found the shell of your ear as he chuckled, and goosebumps rippled along your skin. "If you do want to change your name to Bradshaw, then we can order you a new credit card and new checks as soon as we get married. If not, will you at least consider my last name for the baby?"

You wriggled around in his grasp until he released you so you could roll onto your other side and face him. "I want to change it," you said firmly, kissing the end of his mustache and running your fingers through his hair. "I want to match with you and Noah." You could tell he sighed in relief as you added, "And of course the baby will match with all of us."

When you rolled him onto his back, his hands were on your butt, keeping you snug against him. His smile was cocky as he said, "I feel like rewarding you for making all my dreams come true."

Then he nipped at the tops of your breasts as they were pressed against his chest. "Oh yeah?" you whispered. "How are you planning to do that?"

His dark eyes looked a little dangerous as he said, "By doing anything you ask me to."

You squeezed him inadvertently with your thighs, and he smirked. He knew he had you. He was always going to have you. But you knew what you wanted from him, and you were about to say it when you heard another voice in your bedroom doorway.

"Mommy? Daddy? I'm hungry."

Bradley groaned as you rolled off of him and pulled the covers higher. "I should have known since it's eight o'clock," he whispered, kissing your cheek and then reaching for your hand to kiss your ring. "I'll go start breakfast."

Your eyes went wide. "Don't punish the child, Bradley."

He snorted and slipped out from the covers as Skittles trotted out of her bed to join both of the boys. Your eyes raked over Bradley's body and his snug briefs as he reached for a pair of sweatpants while Noah yawned. "Let's go, Bub," he whispered, picking his son up and turning back to you. "Take your time, but also don't be too long. I think he wants edible food."

Then they were gone and you took a few minutes to sprawl out in bed and examine your engagement ring. You just got it, and already you were wondering how soon you could feasibly get a wedding band to join it on your finger. "Oh," you moaned softly, realizing Bradley might want to wear a wedding band, too. "That would be hot."

You rolled out of bed, nearly falling to the floor as you quickly pulled on some clothing, and then you were rushing to the kitchen where Noah was eating some apple slices sprinkled with cinnamon. Bradley was leaning on the counter with baseball scores open on his phone while he brewed some coffee, and you wrapped your arms around him from behind. 

"That was quick," he muttered when you made your presence known.

"Are you going to wear a ring?"

He turned to face you with a slightly confused look on his face. "Like a wedding ring?"

"Yes," you replied quickly, because somehow knowing this information was extremely urgent to you. "Are you going to wear one?"

You must have sounded more aggressive than you meant to, because he told you, "I mean, I was planning on it, yes. Is that okay?"

Then your head tipped back and you moaned softly. "Oh my god, Bradley. That's sinfully hot. All of your old man stuff and your body and your voice. And you're going to wear a wedding ring, too?"

"Well, yeah. I thought we could get matching engravings inside our rings with the wedding date and a little crown." You had to press your lips together to keep from screaming, and he had the audacity to ask you, "Are you okay, Baby?"

"No! Obviously not! I hope you realize other women will see that ring on your finger and be jealous of me." You gestured to yourself, feeling like you had perhaps finally lost it over this man. 

Bradley smirked. "They already are though. Look at you. So pretty."

You threw your hands up in the air and let them fall to your sides. "I can't really deal with you right now. Go sit with Noah." He chuckled so you added, "I'm serious. Get your coffee and go." You started to rummage around in the refrigerator so you could make pancakes with fresh whipped cream, still hardly able to believe you were both pregnant and engaged. 

When you started setting eggs and cream on the counter, Bradley reached past you for the French vanilla coffee creamer and made your coffee exactly how you liked it. He left you the mug that said Noah's Dad as he muttered, "I'll have to get you one that says Noah's Mom."

"Maybe just wait a few months and get me one with both names on it."

"I can do that."

-----------------------

Bradley thought you looked tired as the afternoon wore on. It had been an exciting few days, but playing with Noah usually seemed to give you more energy, not take it away. After the three of you colored on the driveway and went grocery shopping and stopped at the park, he suggested you and Noah both take a little afternoon nap.

"Just a short one though," you agreed. "I wanted to talk more about weddings and babies." You yawned again and followed Noah into his bedroom. Once again, Bradley was left with Skittles looking up at him expectantly. 

"Okay, fine. I'll get your leash." Soon there would be an additional pair of eyes looking at him and making him melt. It was bad enough there were already three that he was completely weak for.

He made it halfway around the block with Skittles' little bag of poop in one hand when two women in skin tight athletic apparel ran past him. They said hi in unison while he nodded at them, and then they must have paused right behind him.

He heard one of them mutter, "Big guys with little dogs do things to me."

"Ask him out," said the other woman. "I don't see a ring."

Bradley groaned softly as he tugged on Skittles' leash while she sniffed a cactus growing next to the sidewalk. You and he had literally had a conversation about rings this morning, and now it was too late for him to make a quick getaway without picking up his dog and sprinting down the block. Perhaps he was the one who really needed to be wearing a ring this whole time, not you.

"Hey," the first woman said, and he turned around a little sheepishly. "Your dog is literally so adorable. What's her name?"

He didn't know what he was expecting as he said, "Skittles," but it wasn't for both women to look at him like they were on the verge of getting undressed on the sidewalk. 

"Oh my god, I'm obsessed with her! Hi, Skittles." Bradley swallowed hard and took a deep breath, opening his mouth to just end this thing, but she beat him to it as she knelt down to pet the dog. She looked up at him and said, "We're almost done with our run, and I'd absolutely love to take you out for some coffee if you're free."

All he could picture were the coffee cups he always brought home to you with Princess scribbled on the side. When he started to shake his head, she stood from the sidewalk. "I'm engaged," he replied. "But thanks for the offer."

Both women were pouting when he turned away, and one of them said, "Should have known," before they were on their way again. Bradley was immediately filled with that same feeling he had after he forced himself to go to the app dates. He just wanted to be back home where you were. Where everything felt easier. Where he could just be himself without trying so hard. 

"Come on," he told Skittles, and she looked up at him with her tongue peeking out and started to trot down the sidewalk next to him.

When they got home, the sun was getting lower in the sky, and the house was silent. His bedroom was empty, so he doubled back to Noah's room. Sure enough, you were snuggled up with him, sound asleep, just like Friday night. He could have happily watched this scene for the rest of the night. He kind of wanted to squeeze himself into the twin bed, too. Instead he started working on chores and folding laundry. 

It wasn't too much longer before you woke up and appeared in the kitchen with Noah who was whining about being hungry again. You still looked tired, but you also had a determined expression on your face. You shot Bradley a coy smile over your shoulder as you made grilled cheese sandwiches. 

"What's that look for?" he asked as you sat down with the food.

"Well, first of all, thanks for letting me nap," you said, kissing his cheek. "I don't know why I'm so tired today. Maybe it's from all the excitement of the weekend, or maybe it's a pregnancy symptom?"

Bradley's face lit up. "Both options are good. We can go to bed early tonight."

"Yeah... about that. You know how you wanted to reward me? And give me whatever I asked for?"

---------------------------

A few hours later, you were honestly still pretty tired, but Bradley was on his knees in front of you on the bedroom floor, looking up at you with his addicting eyes. You were wearing just your paper crown and your underwear, and he was already naked and ready. But you wanted him to beg for you, and he knew exactly what to do.

His hands and lips were soft on your sides and your belly, and his cock was hard. "Please, Baby," he whispered as he ran the tip of his nose up along your ribs. "You're perfect."

You pushed your fingers through his hair, tugging on the roots until he moaned. As his hands slid around to your lower back, you said, "Tell me what you want, and I'll decide if you can have it."

Now his lips were frantic against your body, his kisses growing in need as his breathing got more rapid. "I want you," he gasped. "I want to fuck my Princess. I want to love you. Please."

You yanked on his hair so he was looking up at you. "I only fuck knights. And only the one I'm engaged to."

Bradley groaned and kissed your belly as he tugged down your underwear. "Baby, I'm so hard. Please."

You smirked, clearly just as turned on as he was, but keeping it together. "You better be good for me."

He scrambled to his feet and onto the bed, and you straddled his hips. He was poking you with his length, but you took his hands in yours and placed them on your breasts. You closed your eyes and listened to that gorgeous voice whisper please a dozen times as his rough hands worked their magic. His cock was eager, tapping against your thigh with each wave of his arousal. Finally you leaned down and kissed his lips softly.

"Okay, Daddy."

His stamina was commendable, as always. You rode him through two orgasms as he hit the sweet spot inside of you while he played with your clit. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were wide as he watched you come for him. And then he had to beg again. 

"Please. Let me finish." But you shook your head and watched him pant. You weren't done yet. You needed another minute. "Please? Please? Baby, I'm begging."

His hands were tight on your thighs as you rolled your hips. "I'm not done yet. You have to wait."

The veins in his neck looked delicious, so you leaned down and licked them. The change in position had him moaning your name, so you whispered next to his ear, "You can come, Daddy." 

You almost screamed when his hips jerked up, his cock pushed so deep inside you. He was babbling unintelligibly about a wedding and the baby as he bucked beneath you, filling you up until his movements finally slowed. His face was slick with sweat as you pushed his hair back from his forehead, and you were delighted as he kept begging.

"Stay with me forever, Princess? Please?"

You fell asleep with your body wrapped around him.

Monday morning hit you like a ton of bricks. You were exhausted and overwhelmed from the weekend, and you realized when you were in the shower that you'd probably have to see Casey when you dropped Noah off. The boys were eating bowls of cereal when you finally made it into the kitchen. Bradley had your coffee ready, and you briefly considered whether or not you should be drinking so much caffeine. Your movements stilled as you remembered all of the champagne you drank recently. 

"You okay?" Bradley asked from his spot at the table. He'd been saying good morning, but you hadn't responded at all.

"Yeah. Just thinking about calling my doctor later."

He was smiling when you looked at him. "Great idea."

You needed to make a lot of changes, and you were starting to feel overwhelmed again. "Will you come to daycare dropoff with us this morning?" you blurted out.

You watched him check the time on the oven clock before he met your eyes again. It sounded so stupid; you and he worked out the schedule you had so that both of you weren't backtracking all over the city. He would be cutting it close to get to work on time, but he said, "Sure. I'll follow you there and then head to base."

"Okay, thank you," you replied, kissing the top of his head. "We'll leave soon."

"Not until you eat something." He pushed the box of cereal in your direction and finished getting Noah ready while you ate. The food made you feel a little better, but your engagement ring felt like it weighed a ton on your finger. You were going to get bombarded with questions and comments all day long, and you wished you could just stay home with Bradley and extend the perfect weekend forever. 

But soon enough, you had Noah in your backseat, and you were heading for daycare in your scrubs. You had him out of his carseat by the time the Bronco coasted into the spot next to yours, and Noah was reaching for Bradley with his free hand. At least he seemed delighted that both of you were here with him.

Bradley held the door open and kissed your cheek when you walked past. "I've gotta run in a minute," he reminded you, but that wasn't going to be a problem. You didn't want to be here for more than a minute yourself, because you could already feel Casey's gaze on your body as the three of you entered the building. 

"Hi!" she called out, clearly looking at only Bradley as she smiled brightly. "Did you have a nice weekend?"

"The best," he replied with a smirk in your direction as he wrapped his arm around your waist. 

Then you noticed the colorful prisms bouncing off the wall next to Casey as you stood in the sunlight shining in through the door. Your ring was massive and glittery and impossible to hide, not that you really wanted to. But you could tell second that her gaze landed on your hand, and a grimace settled on her face.

Bradley didn't seem to notice the showdown of sorts as he kissed your cheek before kneeling in front of Noah to tell him to have a good day. Casey looked at you with her sour expression, and you tried your best to keep yourself neutral, unsure whether you wanted to laugh or scream.

"Wow," she finally said. "That's a neat ring."

You nodded, and now you couldn't stop the grin that formed on your lips. It wasn't neat. It was perfect. It was stunning. You were about to say something when Bradley scooped Noah up in a hug and casually said, "Yeah, we're getting married."

Casey nodded, a jerky motion as she pressed her lips together, and then Noah turned and looked at her as he said, "And I'm going to be a big brother!"

"Noah!" you gasped as Bradley's eyes went wide. All of the baby talk during the weekend must have made an impression. You and Bradley had been talking openly about what was going on, and Noah must have picked up on things. He probably absorbed all of the information, including when you told Bradley that he'd be an amazing big brother. 

"Yeah, you are, Bub," Bradley said with a laugh before he looked at you. "Well, that cat's out of the bag, I guess," he whispered.

"We were not at all discreet when we discussed things in front of him," you replied softly, happy that he was smiling about it.

"That's... neat," Casey repeated, looking like she just ate a lemon. "Wow." She handed Bradley the clipboard while she glared at you, and you avoided her by giving Noah a kiss.

"I'll pick you up later," you promised him, and then he was walking back into the classroom with Casey who had her nose in the air. 

Bradley was checking the time again. "I need to go, Princess. You good?"

"Yes," you replied, watching Noah's little backpack disappear from view. "I'll see you at home tonight."

He grabbed you up and kissed you, giving a bit of a show to the family who just walked in to drop their child off. "I love you," he rasped before running out the door.

You also disappeared before Casey could return, and of course, it was a typically busy Monday at work. But Dr. Kelly gasped when she saw your ring, and the other nurses squealed when you told them Bradley proposed. Pretty soon you'd have to let them know you were pregnant, too, but since Noah wasn't here to blow your cover, you didn't mention it yet. You did however schedule an appointment with your own doctor. 

You got to assist with stitches, clean up a scraped leg while a little girl cried, and fend off a single dad who was blatantly looking at your boobs while he asked you out. Then you got to clean up the floor after a kid peed in the first exam room. You were just bracing yourself for a disaster when Dr. Kelly called you into room two where a boy had bite marks on his arm. "Happened at daycare," she told you, and you got the antiseptic ready.

If that kind of thing ever happened to Noah, you weren't sure how you'd be able to stay calm. Then you thought about the baby, and it threw you for a loop. You felt so protective of both of them already. You still had the scars on your arm from when you fell running away from Meredith. 

So you cleaned up his arm while you sang Noah's favorite song about dinosaurs, taking the time to be careful around the bruising. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, but he sat still for you. Then you let him have as many stickers as he wanted before he left.

You were exhausted and on the verge of tears when you left in your car at five o'clock. You should have known you'd be overwhelmed today, and you needed to get home and spend the night with Noah and Bradley like your sanity depended on it. Traffic was heavy, but when you finally made it back to the daycare, you rushed inside to get it over with.

Of course it was just you and Casey. She set the clipboard down on the edge of the counter but made no move to get Noah for you as you signed your name. Then a malicious looking smile found her lips. "He only proposed because you're pregnant. You know that, right?"

You already knew that's what people were going to assume. You even told Bradley as much. Casey must have been stewing over that information all day long, ready to try to make you feel bad about yourself. It didn't even matter, because you already knew the truth, but in that moment, you felt so damn petty. 

"Bradley actually proposed before he knew I was pregnant, and it was by no means an accident. But nice try, Casey. Now, would you mind doing your job and getting Noah for me? I can't believe I have to remind you what your job entails so frequently."

Her smile turned to a scowl, and you were ready to go a few rounds with her if needed as you slid the clipboard toward her again. You had the upper hand here no matter what, because the Bradshaws were all yours. But she didn't respond, rather she turned away from you and went inside the classroom to get Noah. The idea of knocking all of her neatly organized paperwork to the floor crossed your mind, but you decided to be an adult and just wait for Noah. You were almost immediately awarded with the sweetness only he could bring to your day.

"Mommy!" he called out, running across the small lobby to get to you. "I painted Skittles, but I made her green and yellow!"

"Show me," you said as you bent to pick him up, and then he was holding out his picture as you kissed his cheek. "She's stunning, sweet Noah. I love her."

"We can hang it up at home. On the fridge."

You nodded and carried him outside without looking at Casey. She could eat dirt for all you cared. "The refrigerator is looking really full of your artwork these days, but I'm sure we can squeeze it in. Now, do you want ants on logs or fancy apple snails with your dinner?"

-------------------------

"Well, I fucking did it," Nat said with an exasperated sigh when Bradley walked across the tarmac with her.

"Did what?" he asked, already slightly concerned about where this conversation might be headed.

She flapped her hands in the air in front of herself like that was supposed to mean something. "With Javy! I turned it from friends with bennies into a thing."

"A thing?" he asked, getting more confused by the moment. "What kind of thing?"

"A relationship!" she hissed before clapping her hand over her mouth like she'd said a dirty word.

"Oh," he replied with a laugh. "You're dating him? Like actually dating him? Is this your first boyfriend?" She kicked him in the shin. "Fuck!"

"Come on, Bradley! You know this is a big deal for me! Even admitting to him that I like him made me feel filthy."

"Jesus," he groaned, taking a step to the side to get further away from her as he walked. "I literally can't fathom what he sees in you."

She glared at him. "I could say the same damn thing about your sweet girlfriend. She could have guys eating out of her hand, but she somehow finds you charming?"

Bradley didn't want to say it, but you probably technically found Noah charming. And if last night's activities were any indication, you definitely did have Bradley eating out of your hand. All you had to do was just mention you wanted him to beg for you, and he was on his knees. He'd been that way since the beginning. He had no problem giving you control when you let him know that's how you wanted the evening to go.

"She's not my girlfriend anymore," he replied, watching her reaction from the corner of his eye. 

His best friend dropped her helmet and almost tripped over it as she reached out to wrap her hand around his forearm. She looked devastated as she softly said, "Oh my god, Bradley. She dumped you?"

His jaw dropped open as he came to a stop, and he glared at her. "Seriously, Nat? That's where your mind went? I proposed!"

Her eyes went wide. "She said yes? You're engaged?"

"Yes!" he insisted with his hands on his hips. "You're the worst."

But she didn't even hear him, because now she was screeching and stepping on his feet as she hugged him. "I'm so happy for you! That was quick, but holy shit, it just makes sense! Do I get to collect a finder's fee?"

When she kissed his cheek he said, "All you did was set me up on a bunch of miserable dates while she babysat Noah."

"Exactly! Mutual pining!" she replied with a laugh. "None of this would have happened if I didn't put the app on your phone, so you're welcome."

He tried to disentangle her from his arms so he could pull up the photo he took of the ring when he heard Maverick clear his throat. When he looked at his godfather, he didn't seem thrilled, and Bradley's stomach lurched when he said, "Rooster. We need to talk."

----------------------

Okay, well Casey is the worst. And Skittles is a chick magnet, but we already knew that would be the case. Now let's see if we can get to a wedding and a baby before disaster strikes. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 53

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[mountainsandmayhem]

Tess's Treasures

18+, MDNI

Pairing: Tess x Joel x OC!Female x Female!Reader Summary: After perfecting the art of pickpocketing, you’re invited to join Tess’s Treasures. They’re infamous around the QZ and the initiation process is not what you expect, but exactly what you need. CW: If you’re not into foursomes/bi girl shit then you are in the wrong place. MFFF, bisexual females, fingering, masturbating, oral, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink. Unprotected p in v. Overstim and squirting. Please read this at your discretion. If this isn’t for you, that’s perfectly fine. AN: You can thank @mermaidgirl30 and @littlevenicebitch69 for being good little girls and filling my mind with depraved and twisted thoughts. This fic has truly been a labour of love, taking me almost 6 weeks to put together and edit. I'm not the least bit sorry about the word count, grab a snack, probably some electrolytes and maybe some spare batteries lol. Special shoutouts to @pedritoferg for their kind words when my imposter syndrome had the best of me. As always, dividers and support banners by @saradika-graphics. Friendly reminder that I'm phasing out my tag list, follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates for new fics.

Word Count: 9005

Becoming one of Tess’s Treasures seemed like a fallacy, a pipe dream. A fairytale life only reserved for the most vicious females that prowl the shady streets of the Boston QZ, and you aren’t a killer. A thief, yes; but not a killer. Truthfully, you weren’t even sure if the organization existed. Sure, Tess was a real person, but did she actually have a horde of women she called her Treasures? 

She was infamous in the seedy underbelly of Boston, her and her henchman Joel. Granted, no one ever seemed to see Joel, unless he was about to kill you. And sometimes not even then, he was often hiding in the shadows, shadows darker than the demons that allegedly haunted him.

Outbreak day happened when you were just little, you don’t remember much of the journey from your old hometown to Boston. Everyone here is poor, doing what they can to get credits to buy basic human needs; making trades and swaps were what most people did. You, however, were much more clever. After discovering a book detailing the art of sleight of hand you started practicing, and now you can take anything, right in front of someone's eyes, without them noticing. 

Or so you thought. After stealing a pistol from a FEDRA officer and replacing it with a banana, all while having a conversation with him in broad daylight, Tess approaches you.

“Come to my apartment next week. I wanna see if you have what it takes. Mum’s the word.” It’s a hushed whisper as she passes you, slipping a small card in your back pocket as she goes. 

You follow the cards' instructions, arriving at the exact time, going up to the top floor and then doing two quick, sharp knocks on the worn out door.

“Enter,” Tess says from inside. The door creaks on your way in. It’s the hottest day Boston has seen in years, and even in your small sundress, the room is stifling hot. The air is thick with the smell of gunpowder and something else that you can’t quite put your finger on. There’s a fan oscillating in the corner, the paint chipped off the cage that protects the blades. As it blows warm air past you, you realize that the other smell is sex. 

Tess is sitting on the couch to the right of the door, two mismatched wooden kitchen chairs in front of her. Straight ahead from the door is a small kitchen, and to the back left of the studio style apartment is the bed. Unmade, sheets tousled like someone just woke up, but based on the heady taste of the air in the room, the messy sheets are definitely from two people rolling around in them.

“Come sit,” Tess says firmly. You click the door shut behind you and head to the empty chair that’s waiting for you. The other chair is occupied by a small brunette woman. She has long slender limbs and doesn’t look like someone who would hang out with raiders, poachers and drug runners. Her hands are folded in her lap, ankles crossed under the chair. She doesn’t look over at you.

Tess leans forward, spreading her denim clad legs wide and resting her elbows on her knees. “Do you two know who I am?”

You both nod slowly. Up close, Tess is terrifying. She could have you killed with just a snap of her fingers, and Joel would do it however she wanted. From what you’ve heard, very slowly was her favourite way to have people eliminated from this earth. Quick deaths weren’t something she enjoyed when someone had fucked her over. 

“Speak!” she commands. The brunette jumps and even though you’ve mastered the art of pushing your fears down and masking your emotions, a small butterfly flaps its wings behind your navel. 

“Yes,” you say hoarsely as a meek ‘yes ma’am’ sounds beside you.

“Good. So then you know the….perks of being one of my Treasures,” Tess’s eyes twinkle as she says perks like she knows something you don’t. Like it’s more than the better living arrangements, food and medical care. Better than a sense of family and belonging.

She continues, “I’ve seen both of you at work. You,” her steel grey eyes are laser focused on yours, “With your quick hands, and you,” she adjusts her attention to the petite woman beside you, “With your ability to talk a man into almost anything. Before you can officially call yourself my Treasures, there’s a small matter of your…” Her voice trails, mouth ticking up on one side as she cocks her head and drags her eyes across both of your bodies.

“Well, your initiation.” She leans back onto the couch, knees falling wider. One arm drapes across the back, the worn cushion deflating slightly. The other rests on her thick, toned thigh. “I take care of my girls, but they need to show me that they can listen.”

The air seems thicker, and harder to fill your lungs with. Every move of her eyes is suggestive. Is she saying what you think she’s saying? You feel yourself begin to soak through your panties at the possibility of getting to fuck.

You aren’t left wondering for long as she points a long finger at the girl beside you, “Stand up, take off your clothes.”

“W-what?” the girl sputters. 

“I said to stand up and take off your fucking clothes,” the words almost seem to burn as she repeats herself. 

The girl stands so quickly that the chair falls, making a loud crash against the worn hardwood flooring. She stares at Tess for a moment, unsure if she should pick up the chair before she decides against it and pulls her blue cotton baby tee off, revealing a lacy white bra underneath. 

“That’s it,” Tess groans. “Take off those little shorts next.”

With shaky hands she moves to the button fly, each drag of the metal on denim seems to echo in the silent room. Tess licks her lips as she slides her shorts down her legs and kicks them to the side. “Come here,” Tess says, her voice already husky and deep. The woman walks over to Tess, stopping between her spread legs. Tess’s strong fingers grip the girl's hips and she gasps. “Turn around,” she urges, dragging her fingers along her hips as the mystery girl spins.

“What’s your name?” Tess asks. The girl's bright green eyes land on you and you see her breath hitch in her slender throat. She’s petite, probably a few inches shorter than you and at least a foot shorter than Tess. You’ve always been attracted to both men and women and there’s no denying that this little stranger is absolutely stunning. 

“Lydia,” she croaks.

“Are you nervous, Lydia?” Tess asks, cupping the globes of her ass in her hands, kneading and squeezing. Spreading them gently, exploring what she’s about to claim as hers. 

She nods her head and lets out a shaky moan of agreement.

“Go pick up your chair and sit down, Lydia.” Tess swats her bum as she walks away and Lydia yelps quietly.

Tess’s eyes now come to you. Staring straight into your soul. I’m sure if she could, her eyes would incinerate your clothes right off of you. It’s intoxicating. You, unlike Lydia, are not nervous. Not in the slightest. If anything, Tess’s attention on you only makes you wetter. Your panties are practically soaked through already. “And you, my little thief. What’s your name?”

You say your name confidently and squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease some of the ache that Tess’s newfound attention is bringing to the apex of your thighs.

Tess whispers your name back at you and it sends a shiver down your spine. She continues, “Get on your hands and knees and crawl to me.”

Lydia swallows loudly beside you as you drop to the floor, crawling seductively to Tess, head held high. The worn hardwood planks creak under your weight. Even the floor is warm and sticky from the weather. You make it to her, sitting back on your heels like the good little girl you are. She leans forward and tugs on the hem of your dress and her syrupy voice says, “Arms up”. You lift your ass slightly and she slips your dress up and over your head. It was too hot for a bra today so you’re left in just a lacy pink thong.

“Mmmm, look at those pretty tits,” Tess hums, her fingers gliding along the plush soft skin of your breasts before ghosting over your nipples making the arm whoosh from your lungs. “You like that? Me touching your nipples.”

You breathe out a yes, eyes shutting as she pinches your pebbled buds roughly. “Oh god, yes.”

The old worn couch groans as Tess sits back, “Go take her bra and panties off.”

You climb to your feet and walk over to Lydia, holding out a hand and helping her stand. You move behind her and trail your fingers down the soft skin of her spinal column before popping the clasp of her bra. Lydia slides it off her body, arms crossing to block her now exposed breasts. Goosebumps rise across her from head to toe. You shush her and rub up and down her arms. Lydia relaxes under your touch and she drops her arms, Tess nods at you once, a silent encouragement to continue. You get down on your knees, hooking your index fingers in the waistband of her panties and sliding them down. Her round ass is in your face, she smells like fresh linen and rain. You fight the urge to kiss the sensitive little spot right where her ass crack starts.

“So fucking beautiful. Sit back down, Lydia.” Tess says and you want to cry out in protest. Her body is so enticing, soft and warm. She focuses back on you and says, “Stand in front of Lydia so she can take your panties off.”

You stand gracefully, biting your bottom lip as you maneuver yourself in front of Lydia. “Spread your legs,” you whisper, determined to help her so you can put on the best show for Tess. Lydia parts her knees and you twirl to face Tess, gathering your hair in one hand as Lydia slides your soaked panties down your legs. You kick them to the side and seductively drop your hair, smiling sweetly at Tess.

“Sit,” Tess barks. Lydia gasps behind you, but you like this; being told what to do. Commanded. Used. Tess continues after you sit, “I want you both to touch yourselves. Show me how you like it, but don’t come. You haven’t earned that yet. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am,” Lydia says, looking down at her hands. You nod eagerly, already sliding your ass to the edge of the chair and spreading your legs wide for her. Tess stares at your glistening core hungrily, leaning forward again to rest her muscular forearms on her knees. Her hair falls forward and frames her face. Her expression is hard, like you don’t want to disobey her in these moments. Brows are slightly knit together, lips in a thin line. She looks beautiful and dangerous, but as you bring your pointer and ring fingers to your entrance she softens a little, cocking her head to the side slightly. 

Lydia keeps her legs closed, slipping a finger down her slit and rubbing slowly from side to side. She whimpers silently beside you, glancing at you nervously. Your fingers easily slip inside of your soft, dripping hole. 

Tess’s eyes dance between the two of you. “Two very different girls,” she says to the room, neither of you stopping what you’re doing, both determined to become a part of her Treasures. “One of you seems shy, but I can work with that. Help you get out of your shell. And then there’s you,” her focus locks on you as she gets up with a grunt and saunters over to you. “You are a little whore, aren’t you? So eager to please.”

You feel yourself getting wetter at her attention and mean words. She pets your head lightly a few times, laughing quietly at how you lean into her touch, your eyes fluttering closed. Just as your lashes hit your cheeks she grabs a handful, pulls hard and gets within inches of your face. “You’re going to be a problem, aren’t ya?”

“No,” you gasp, your orgasm right on the precipice, so you slow your motions. “I’ll be good, Tess.”

“Did I say you could slow down?”

“I - I’m gonna come,” you whine. 

“No, you’re not. You just told me you’d be good. And good girls don’t come until they’re told.” She releases your hair and you suck in a breath. Tess’s presence is palpable, she seems to take up all the space and air in the apartment by just being here. “Do NOT come, that’s an order.”

Just as the last sentence leaves her mouth the door opens and the apartment gets smaller, like your whole existence is being put in a vacuum sealer. The deep chuckle that comes from whoever just entered makes your scalp prickle, but you keep your focus on Tess.

“What’re we doin’ here, Tess?” The voice is deep, with a slight southern accent highlighting an occasional word. It can only belong to one man, the only man allowed near Tess’s Treasures. Joel Miller. He’s feared and revered in the Boston QZ. Runs the drug trade that keeps both FEDRA and the seedy underbelly running. You’ve never seen him before, but you’ve heard stories.

“Recruits,” Tess says, walking over to Lydia, crouching in front of her. “This one is shy. The other one - well, I might need your help with her.”

Your clit feels like it’s zapped with electricity at her threatening promises and you moan loudly, pausing your fingers that have been plunging in and out of you as per Tess’s requests. “See,” she says flatly, hands massaging Lydia’s plush tanned thighs. 

You hear Joel’s heavy footsteps as he walks towards you, you can feel his heat and smell the tobacco coming off his skin. When he steps into your line of vision everything blurs. He’s beautiful and dangerous, but overall he’s the most incredible specimen you’ve ever seen. Your brain seems to go blank, like a hard reset, until all you see and smell and care about is Joel. You keep your eyes locked on his face, his brows crease, lips pressed tightly together. He plants his hands on his hips as his coffee and whiskey eyes slowly trail down your body. When he gets to your soaked and swollen pussy he licks his lips. “You gonna let her come?” He asks Tess but doesn’t take his eyes off you.

The fog clouding your brain clears and you glance towards Lydia and Tess. She has her legs spread and Tess is smiling encouragingly up at her, hand on top of hers, teaching her where to touch. 

“She can come when she’s earned it. Lydia’s earned it though. Haven’t you?” She nods at Lydia as she squirms in the wooden kitchen chair. “That’s it, show us.”

Lydia speeds the up and down motion of her hand sloppily, you can hear the wetness as her movements become more erratic. Joel’s eyes haven’t left you, still watching you fuck your fingers in and out of yourself, almost mesmerized by you. 

“Tess,” Lydia murmurs.

“Go ahead, baby. Come for me. Let me see that pretty little pussy twitch.” 

Lydia’s body starts to shake as she cries out, her hand slowing as she whines and moans, “Oh god. Oh god. Yesyesyes.”

You peel your eyes away from her and squeeze every muscle in your body as tightly as you can, holding on, not letting yourself come. Looking at Joel makes it nearly impossible not to tip over that very tantalizing edge, so you clamp your eyes shut. “Tess,” Joel says, his voice a baritone whisper. “You’re torturing this one, look at her.”

He’s right, she is torturing you; but, what Joel doesn’t know is that you love it. You love being denied just as much as you love being used. You love being pinned down or tied up. You love having your throat or pussy or ass fucked in any and all positions known to humankind. The world is a dark and horrible shit show, but sex? Ya, sex makes you feel alive. 

“Torturing her would be not letting her touch herself at all. She should be thanking me.” Tess turns her attention back to Lydia, helping her stand up and pulling her to the couch. “You did such a good job for me. You looked stunning as you fell apart.”

You open your eyes at the movement of them. They stop and stand facing each other in front of the couch as Tess removes her shirt, her breasts are small and perky with light pink nipples. Joel looks away from you, staring appreciatively at the woman he’s sworn to protect. She pops the button on her jeans. “Take them off her, Lydia. Tess shouldn’t have to work this hard,” Joel commands. 

You whimper at the timbre of Joel's voice when he’s giving instructions and his eyes whip back to you. “You like that, don’t you? Being told what to do.”

“Yes, oh god, please can I come Tess,” you cry, eyes still locked with Joels.

“Lydia is going to lick my pussy, Joel is going to move out of the way so I can see you, and when I say you can come I want you to be loud. I want to hear those slutty little moans. Got it?”

Joel doesn’t hesitate, stepping behind your chair. He must be leaning over you because you swear you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear. Tess sits on the couch and tugs at Lydia’s wrist gently, encouraging her to kneel in front of her. “Come on,” she whispers and then places her finger at the top of her pussy. “Just lick and kiss right here. You can do it.”

Lydia moves slowly, giving you a knowing glance over her shoulder as she gets into Tess’s desired position. You suddenly realize that she’s more clever than you initially thought. She’s not shy, she knows exactly what she’s doing. Tess likes to lead, so she acted like she needed the guidance. And now she’s come and you haven’t. Tess’s head falls back, jaw going slack as Lydia tastes her. 

“Does that turn you on?” Joel whispers, his warm breath hitting your neck. “Seeing Tess being eaten out. She deserves that every day, you know. She’s gonna take such good care of you, so you better care for her.”

“I will,” you mumble. “I’ll do whatever she needs. Whenever. Fuuuuck.”

“Look how wet you’re getting, I don’t think you can hold it for much longer.” He’s taunting you now. “Little thing loves to come, doesn’t she?”

“No, Tess gets to - oh god - she says when,” you’re squeezing as tight as you can, holding back the orgasm that’s right there, like a seesaw teetering, so close to tipping to the other side and slamming through you. 

Lydia slurps at Tess, you can hear her sucking at her clit as Tess moans and tangles her fingers into Lydia’s hair. “Yes, that’s it. Fuck, right there.”

You let out a breathy whine and Tess’s eyes come to you. “Ssshh, not yet. Oh shit, Lydia. So good.”

Joel laughs into your ear. “Just come, what’s the worst she’s going to do? Spank you? Let me fuck your throat? I bet you like being punished.”

You shake your head, trying to block out all the lewd mental images he’s creating. “No, Joel.” you huff, refocusing on holding it in, thinking of all the unsexy thoughts you can as you watch Tess, waiting for your time. 

Tess’s legs begin to shake, “get ready, baby. We are going to come together.” 

Your wrist begins to ache, it feels like you’ve been fucking yourself for hours. “I need to, please. You look so - “

She cuts you off, “Joel, take over for her. I’m gonna come.”

Joel practically leaps in front of you, grabbing your wrist and pulling your drenched fingers out while slipping his two thick fingers into your mouth. You bob up and down on his fingers still looking at Tess. Her eyes are glazed over, and a bead of sweat slides down the line of her toned stomach and lands in her belly button. 

“Now, Joel,” she whines and Joel wastes no time slamming his fingers inside of you. You cry out at the stretch, pleasure mixing with pain before he pumps his fingers forward. “Come right now,” Tess says. 

You look down at Joel, his thumb coming to caress your swollen bundle of nerves and you cry out, the room filled with your loud moans just like she wants. You hear both her and Joel encouraging you. Joel’s Texas twang washing over you,  “that’s it, fuckin clenchin. Fuck you’re so tight.”

Joel is relentless, curling and dragging his fingers in and out of you as you writhe in your chair. “Tess, oh god, yes.”

Joel's other hand slaps the inside of your thigh, “LOUDER!” he demands.

You squeal at the hot pain that splashes along your thigh, “hhnnngg, thank you. Fuck.” Your pleasurable moans turn into whines of pain as the overstimulation starts to seep in. You try to pull back and bring your knees together and Joel lets out a growl. He looks up at you dangerously and your stomach clenches. This is the wild, animalistic Joel Miller that everyone fears. 

You start to panic, he’s not stopping and you don’t know if you can take much more. You’re so wrapped in his onyx gaze and a mix of fear and arousal that you don’t notice Tess behind Joel until she speaks. Her voice is soft yet firm as she cards her fingers through his greying curls, “Joel, that’s enough.”

He blinks hard, seemingly coming out of some sort of trance, and then slips his fingers from you, strings of milky arousal coating his fingers. “Good boy,” she whispers. “Help her up, but you don’t get to touch either of them until I say so.”

He nods and then stands, helping you up. Lydia is lounging lazily on the couch, her face still glistening with Tess’s juices. Your knees shake underneath you and Joel wraps an arm around your waist. You’ve had plenty of orgasms in your life, but never one that deep and strong. Your pussy is aching and you just want to sleep.

Tess sits on the chair that Lydia was on and spreads her legs slightly. “Lydia,” she crooks her fingers at her, calling her over. “Turn around, pretty girl. Straddle my thigh.”

Lydia follows Tess’s instructions, that fake nervous pout of her lips on display for Joel. Clever, very clever, you think through heavy eyelids. 

“Joel, help her on the other thigh and bring that chair.” Joel guides and steadies you as you sit on Tess’s thigh, then places the extra chair in front of the three of you. “Use the chair for balance,” Tess instructs, her hand running up and down your spine gently. 

You both lean forward, your sweaty palms slipping slightly against the wooden chair. You both gasp quietly as your swollen clits press into her muscular thigh, as she caresses your backs and hips. Joel sits on the couch across from you, one arm draped across the back and his legs spread. He watches you intently, eyes blown out and curls sticking to his forehead. It’s not lost on you that he hasn’t focused much attention on the other girl. You look over at Lydia and she’s smiling flirtatiously at you. Your faces are just inches apart and she nudges at your nose with hers.

“Ladies,” Tess starts, “this is the part where you show Joel what you can do. He’s going to kill people for you, and when he does, you need to repay him.”

You graze your lips against Lydias, her skin tastes like peaches and Tess’s cunt. 

“Pretend my thigh is Joel's cock, show him how you’ll ride him.”

You flick your attention back to Joel, and his expression shifts from hard to a tortured need. You rake your eyes down his strong chest, still concealed by that fucking denim button up that you want to rip off with your teeth. He’s dangerous and could easily snap your neck with two fingers, but fuck, if that doesn’t make you want him more. Lydia presses her lips to your throat and you start to grind back and forth on Tess’s thigh. 

You continue to take in Joel’s body, stopping when you get to his lap. Your eyes widen at the distinct outline of his hard cock pressing behind the zipper of his jeans. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth as you lock eyes with him again. His coffee coloured irises are almost onyx as he shifts in his seat. He wants you - just as much as you want him, and you just hope that you can break him enough so Tess lets him have you. 

Tess’s strong hand travels up the smooth skin of your back, tangling her hands in the hair at the nape of your neck. “Tell Joel how good it feels, baby. Lydia, keep kissing her.”

Lydia’s lips suck at your skin. “Mmm, fuck Joel. Feels s’good. Wish it was your big cock filling me up, sliding in and out of my tight, wet pussy.” Tess tugs at your hair to open your neck more for Lydia and you yelp.

“Keep talking, baby girl,” Joel says, his hand moving to palm himself over his jeans. “Tell me what you want.”

You grind harder into Tess’s thigh, between the sting in your scalp from her hand, Lydia’s soft lips on your neck, and Joel’s intense stare, it almost becomes hard to breathe. Every bit of their attention is on you.

“I-I want you to, mmmm, to pin me down,” you take in a shaky breath, never taking your eyes off him. “To f-fuck me…from behind. Want you to f-fill, oh god, fill me.”

Joel pops the button of his jeans, reaching down his pants to grip himself through his tight grey boxers. You continue breathily, “Wanna feel you spank me. Slam inside of me. Dominate me.”

“Good girl,” Tess says, releasing her grip on your hair and pulling Lydia off your neck, before pressing in between your shoulder blades until you’re flush with her thigh. You crane your neck to keep your eyes on Joel, looking at him through the wooden slats of the back of the chair in front of you. “Your turn, Lydia. Tell Joel what you want.”

She clears her throat before beginning, “If he killed for me, I wouldn’t make him do any work. I’d lay him down, lick and kiss every inch of him before sliding him in my mouth. Taking him deep, cradling his balls with my hand. I’d swallow every drop.”

Joel lets out a noncommittal grunt, almost like a secret language between him and Tess. Joel leans forward and removes his denim button up and t-shirt in one swoop. His tanned and toned chest makes your mouth water. His chiselled pecs and soft belly have trimmed salt and pepper hair dusted across them, he toes off his shoes and then lifts his hip, sliding his jeans down his legs. His skin glistens with sweat and you want to lick it all off of him, drink up his salt and musk, his innate Joel-ness. 

“Come here, Joel.” She says. 

“Sit up,” she says softly to you. Joel stalks forward like he’s about to claim what’s his and your pussy clenches around nothing in hopes that it’s you.

“Ride my thighs, girls. Whoever cums first, Joel gets to fuck.” You spit into your hand and reach between your legs, gently spreading your lips and coating yourself in saliva.

A deep, “holy fuck” leaves Joel's lips at the sight of you. Yes, he definitely wants you just as much as you want him. You move your hands from the chair to Tess’s knee and grind your hips in small, slow circles. Your arms push your tits together for Joel. Beside you, Lydia stops moving. She sits as still as a statue, looking over her shoulder seductively at Tess. A loud slap fills the room, followed by a lust filled moan that you didn't think Lydia was capable of. 

“Tess,” she says, all airy and breathy. Her tone feels sweet on your skin. “I don’t like sleeping with men.” 

You keep grinding, your focus on Joel. He’s so close that you could reach out and grab one of his muscular forearms. You’re going to fuck him. You want to fuck him. Any way he wants. Any hole he wants. None of it matters, you just want to feel him, smell him, taste him. 

Tess lets out an impressed sigh. “You’re even more amazing than I thought, Lydia. Had me telling you how to lick a pussy, how to touch yourself. But you already know. Don’t you?” She slaps Lydia’s ass again and the loud noise even has you clenching. Fuck, you want Joel to spank you. Or Tess. Even Lydia at this point. 

It’s wrong. And taboo. But who can say what’s right or wrong in this new world anymore? 

“You are going to have to do things for Joel, little temptress. It’s part of the deal.” You see Tess’s hands come to Lydia’s hips, encouraging her to grind at the same pace you’ve set. “So ride me. Let me feel that slick little pussy, let me feel it quiver on my thigh.” 

Things are quiet for a moment, just the squelching sounds of both your cunts gliding along her smooth thigh. You lean into Lydia, desperate for more. More what, you aren’t sure. Just more.

She responds to your touch, her nose brushing your cheek before you turn into her and kiss her deeply. Slanting your head to taste her tongue against yours. She’s sweet, like strawberry jam. Lips so soft they almost don’t feel real. Her teeth clamp onto your bottom lip and you cry out. The perfect amount of pain to increase the pleasure between your legs. When she lets go you’re panting. 

“She’s close, Tess,” Joel murmurs like he knows your body so well, but he’s not wrong. He continues speaking casually to Tess as if you aren’t in the same room. “Do I really get to fuck her if she cums first?” 

You grind down harder, kissing Lydia again. You love them talking about you as if you aren’t here. Making the decisions for you. 

“As soon as she cums, you take her to the bed.” Tess’s strong hand lays a sharp slap on the meaty globe of your ass and you crumble. 

“YES!” You scream, convulsing as the pleasure courses through you. You look up at Joel through your lashes, jaw slack, voice weak and desperate. “Joel. Please. Please.” 

He drops his boxers and his thick cock spring free. Slapping against his belly. The tip is smooth and leaking, he’s bigger than you thought and somehow your throat dries out as your cheeks fill with saliva. As you come down from your second orgasm you realize that you can do this. You are going to do whatever Tess says and become one of her Treasures. 

“Think you can take him?” Tess hums as Lydia falls apart beside you, moaning sweetly. Tess adds, “Good girl, Lydia. So perfect when you cum.”  

You decide to take a page out of Lydia's book and act innocent. “N-no,” you stammer. “It’s…I don’t…it’s too big.” 

Joel snorts, “You’re not a very good liar my little slut.” 

Before you can respond he’s lifted you up and over his broad shoulder. His skin is warm against your belly. You giggle mischievously as his hands dig into the plush skin on the back of your thighs. He can so easily overpower you, so easily destroy you - mentally and physically. And you’d let him, and to make it worse, you’d thank him afterwards and probably ask him to do it again. 

He drops you on the bed. “Don’t move.” 

You nod and swallow the dry lump in your throat. You definitely want this, even if you shouldn’t. Even if that logical voice inside your head is screaming at you to put up the wall, block him out like you do with everyone else. But the infinitesimal hint of softness in his face that can only be seen by the two of you keeps you sucked in. He won’t hurt you, no. Something in his eyes gives him away, he wants to please you with those hands that have brought pain and torture to so many others. 

He walks back over to Tess and Lydia who are completely entranced with one another. Lydia is now sitting fully in Tess’s lap. Her back pressed to Tess’s front, both her legs draped over Tess’s as she pressed kisses along the tops of one of her shoulders and rubs her fingers gently from her pussy up to Lydia’s. Joel kneels in front of them, both of their legs spread, wet pussy’s glistening and on display for him. The sight of Joel Miller on his knees does something unexplainable to you. He’s so goddamn delicious. 

He looks over at you again, that softness still coaxing you deeper into his web, tangling around you, claiming you. His large hands cup Tess’s inner thighs and then he dives into both their pussy’s. Jealousy swirls in your stomach as he draws a sloppy wet line from Tess’s entrance to her clit, then up to Lydia in the same manner. 

“Oh, fuck Joel,” Tess cries as Lydia whimpers.

“Too much, baby?” he says gruffly to Lydia who nods before burying her face into the crook of Tess’s neck. “Little more, m’kay?”

He licks at them again, Tess’s moan ending as Lydia’s starts. Joel doesn’t stop. He uses long languid and lazy strokes of his tongue as he eats at both of them.

“J-Jo - fuuuck Joel!” Tess murmurs, her head falling back and mouth falling open in a silent scream. She wraps her arms tightly around Lydia as her legs start to tremble. Joel’s deltoids and biceps flex as he pushes to keep her thighs apart.

“Fuck, Tess.” Lydia purrs, “You look so goddamn hot when you cum. Suck on her clit, Joel. Make our girl squeal.” You can hear him slurp her swollen and twitching nub into his mouth. As it slips along his soft and puffy lips her pained sounding moans start to become mumbles of pleasure. Joel works her through her orgasm, not stopping until he knows she's good and sated.  

Lydia reaches back, twisting to kiss Tess deeply and then whispers into her lips. Whatever she says gets Joel's attention and he releases her clit with a pop before looking up at the two women. You haven’t moved from where Joel left you, as fun as being a brat is, he could probably dish out a punishment so intense that even you would break and use whatever safe word he gave you. Lydia whispers more, Joel smirks at whatever she’s saying and then the three of them all slowly turn to look over at you.

Fuck

Joel stands, his hands coming to the outsides of Tess’s knees and guiding her as she closes her legs, then he gives a hand to Lydia to help her stand before repeating the same with Tess. He stands tall and broad, completely naked and fully erect between these two powerhouse women, linking his fingers with Tess and smiling over at her. She gives him a little nod and your stomach flips as your pussy clenches.

This is it, you think.

“Little slut,” he says deeply, “‘M’gonna fuck you now, while they hold you down. Understood?”

You try to say yes, but just air seems to leave your lungs. Tess and Lydia climb along each side of you, hooking their arm under your leg and pulling back to open you for Joel. Your arms are trapped under their bodies as they lay beside you.  You’re pinned and exposed; fully at Joel, Tess and Lydia’s mercy. 

The bed dips as Joel settles between your thighs, his large body looms over you, resting himself on one forearm beside your head, his other hand wrapped around his cock, running it up and down your folds.

“So wet for me. So soft,” he presses the fat tip of his cock at your entrance and you gasp. “Shit! S’tight too, baby girl.”

Tess and Lydia nuzzle into you, lightly dragging their noses along your neck and jawline. “J-Joel, fuck me. Pleaseplease. Fuck me”

Joel presses his hips forwards, and the thick, smooth mushroom head of his cock pushes at your weeping cunt again. “Look at me, little slut,” he rasps. You don’t hesitate, look at him with big innocent eyes, biting your lower lip. He spits into his palm and then coats his throbbing dick with it, fisting himself up and down. He raises an eyebrow at you cockily, “Say it again.”

“Fuck me, fuck me, please!”

Without warning Joel slams into you, stretching you painfully and your body jolts. You try to slam your knees together but the naked women on each side of you keep you spread open widely for Joel. “Shit baby,” he says through gritted teeth as his body folds over yours, his hands caging all three of you in. Tess nips at your neck, while Lydia sucks at your earlobe after whispering, “Relax, little slut, we all got you.”

Your lungs slowly come back to you. You take a deep, full breath in, and it feels like you haven’t taken a proper breath since seeing Joel for the first time. As you exhale you’re completely surrounded by Joel Miller. His large body is all you can see and feel. Meanwhile, all you can taste and smell is his tobacco scent and the salt of the sweat that coats his tanned skin. You’re addicted, you want to be able to inject him right into your veins. Your pussy relaxes around him and the pain ebbs into pleasure, and you need more.

“More, please more,” you murmur into his neck.

“There she is,” Tess whispers in your ear and you whimper.

“Say it again,” Joel commands.

“Fuck me, Joel,” you cry. “Please, fuck me. Make me your little slut for real.”

Lydia giggles seductively in your ear, pulling you into her tighter.

“Open her all the way for me,” he says to the other two. “S’too tight for me.”

He sits himself up and your knees are pulled open and back. Joel keeps his eyes locked on yours as he tilts his chin a bit and splits on your already soaked pussy. His veiny hands come to the back of your thighs, squeezing and massaging at your sensitive skin.

“Think I should fuck her, Lydia?” He starts, and soon they’re talking about you again as if you aren’t even there, the slick walls of your cunt fluttering as they speak.

“She's been good, hasn’t she?” Lydia says in a syrupy aroused tone.

“No she hasn’t,” Tess says between kisses along your jawline. “She’s a thief. She’s a bad girl.”

Joel slaps the inside of one of your thighs, with just enough of a flick in his wrist that it immediately sends a zap of pleasure toward your clit. Lydia feels you relax more into her grips, “She likes it when you hit her, Joel”.

“Of course she does,” Tess moans. “She’s a little slut.” She hits the t at the end of the word hard and Joel slaps you again. Right in the same spot, precision that you’ve never known before from a man who kills without being seen. 

“Should feel how tight she is, maybe she had us fooled,” Joel says, eyes shifting between the two women, wholly avoiding your gaze. You’re so desperate for his attention, and the humiliation of him not returning it arouses you so much more than it should.

“What’d’ya mean, baby boy?” Tess asks, her warm breath hitting your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“Like a virgin, squeezin’ me like a vice.”

“She’s shakin,” Lydia adds. “Poor girl.”

“You two don’t stop kissing her while I do this,” they both nod and he flips his attention back to you. “I wanna hear you screamin’. Got it, little slut?”

You shudder under his intense stare. “Yes, yes, Joel. Please, just fuck me. Pleeease!”

He pulls halfway out and then slams back in, his heavy balls slap at your taint and asshole, your needy high pitched moans filling the room. Your whole body constricts around Joel and as it relaxes it feels like heaven. No one has made your body feel like this. “That feel good?” Joel says tauntingly, his hands gripping into the back of your thighs.

“Please - fuck, yes. More,” you mumble, almost incoherently. 

“Show our girl, Joel. Show her what he can have once she’s my Treasure.” Tess commands.

What’s that saying, ‘You say jump, I say how high’? Well, when Tess says jump, Joel is already mid jump, doing it exactly how Tess wants it. He’s already dragging his cock out slowly, all the way to the tip, before slamming fast and hard back into you.

“Harder,” Tess growls, biting your neck as Joel repeats the motion. Lydia squirms against you, her soft warm skin slipping along the thin sparkling layer of sweat that coats your body. “Look at her. Pliant, soft. Letting Joel do whatever he wants.”

“That’s cuz she’s a good girl,” Lydia moans, kissing the sensitive skin under your earlobe. 

Joel brings one of his hands to cup your chin, his thumb running around your bottom lip softly. “Gotta relax for me, little slut.”

You take a breath and as you exhale you can feel the grip your pussy has on his thick cock loosen. “That’s it. That’s my girl.”

“Good job, baby girl,” Tess whispers, kissing at your throat again. 

“Fuck her now, Joel.” Lydia says, “We got her.”

Joel sets a quick pace, slamming in and out of you. His name and a string of swears leaving your lips with every thrust, just the screams of your pleasure and the squelching of your pussy filling the room. Tess and Lydia whisper praises as Joel is possessed by your cunt. Pounding and pounding into you without pause. Over and over, he’s relentless. A man possessed. You can’t help but wonder if he’s like this with all other women or if this is just for you. His hand falls from your chin, landing beside Tess’s head on the mattress, the other still gripped to your thigh. His short nails dig into your skin, leaving you marked with signs of him. 

“That’s it,” Lydia hums. “Taking it like such a good girl.”

Tess’s teeth lightly scrape at your jawline. “Come on, baby. I wanna see you come again.”

“So fuckin’ pretty when you come,” Joel says each word at the end of his harsh thrusts. His voice is gravelly and deep. Seeping under your skin and into your DNA, the very fabric of your being. You belong to him, no questions asked.

“M-more. I - more - please.” You aren’t sure what you mean by more, but Joel seems to know your body better than you as he sits himself back up and brings his thumb to your clit, teasing it gently and you writhe under him. It’s almost too much but you need it, and even more, you need Joel not to stop.

He hammers into you again, slower this time, but still with an intense flick of his hips at the end. The leaking tip of his cock pressing against the perfect spongy part behind your clit.

“Can see you in her stomach, Cowboy.” Tess moans. Both the women feather long, lingering kisses along your neck. The juxtaposition of their soft actions and the bruising dance of Joel’s hip is just as confusing as it is arousing. 

“Rub her clit a little harder, Joel. I think she’s getting close.” You clench around him at Lydia’s words and cry out loudly. 

He swirls his thumb easily along your lubricated clit, the mixture of both of your arousals and his spit making it slippery. “Ohgod, hnnnnggg, J-Joel pleasepleaseplease.”

“Sssshhh, baby,” he soothes, pausing with his hips pushed flush to your ass. “Gotta relax, remember?”

You whimper in agreement, nodding your head as you try to slow your breathing and your heart rate. “There she goes,” Joel moans as your pussy walls flutter and then relax.

He starts to fuck you slowly, circling your swollen velvety nub with the rough pad of his thumb. His other hand leaves your thigh, massaging your breast, pinching at the nipple with his thumb and forefinger. “Fuck, you feel so good. So tight. Gonna fill you one day.”

“Today, please!” you protest through a salacious moan.

“Tell her,” he says to the women holding you in their arms, speeding up the circles of his thumb.

“Lydia,” Tess whispers, like it’s a secret just for the three of you, “Tell her your plan.”

You’re lost in a daze as Lydia says your name into your skin. When you don’t respond she nips gently at you and says, “Baby? You with me?”

“Y-yes. Fuuuuuuck,” you say wantonly.

“Joel is gonna make you cum, then pull out and cum all over our faces. After, we are going to lick it all off each other.” She says it with a hint of mischief and lust in her voice.

The three of them praise and encourage you as Joel keeps fucking you and rubbing your clit at the same time. You have no idea how long you’ve been in this apartment, how long you’ve been floating on a vibrating fluffy cloud of pleasure and craving. Whispers of “Good girl”, “so pretty”, and “fuck listen to how wet you are” travel through you.  

The electric currents of pleasure that sizzle along your skin all come to the base of your spine. Pressure building, so very close to exploding around all of you. “Come on, little slut. Let go for me.”

Lydia and Tess say ‘Come on’ and ‘relax into it’ at the same time.

“Shit, J-Joel,” you whimper. A tear runs down your cheek.

“I know, I’m here,” he says, voice slightly softer than earlier. “I know.”

The pressure becomes unbearable and then everything snaps. Your pussy flutters as the pleasure starts to consume every single inch of your being. Your vision blurs, every muscle going lax as you twitch unconsciously underneath him. 

“Good girl. Yes, that’s my good little slutty girl,” he growls. Your orgasm continues to tear through you, ripping you in half and you know when you come down only Joel will be able to stitch you back up again. 

Joel presses his large palm to your mound, and just as you feel yourself start to come down you’re on the precipice of another orgasm. “Got another one for me, baby?”

“Yesyesyes - yeeesss,” you’ve forgotten words, you’re just a bundle of pleasure. No muscles or bones or thoughts of your own. Just a pliant body, that’s fully under the control of Joel Miller. 

Your second orgasm hits you hard, tearing anything you had left in half. “She’s gonna squirt,” Joel mumbles.

“Just let it go,” Lydia whispers, suckling on your earlobe. 

You push into the feeling, letting it overtake you as liquid gushes from your cunt, coating Joel's pelvis and pooling on the bed below you. It splashes as Joel keeps up his pace. You scream out in pleasure. Lydia and Tess talking you through it quietly, “Good girl. Stay relaxed for me,” Tess says as Lydia adds, “Let it take you, we’re right here.”

The pleasure starts to ebb, it’s becoming too much as Tess whispers, “Breathe, baby girl. Just breathe.”

“Can’t, Tess.” you whimper, turning your face towards her. “Please,” you plead. If you learned anything from earlier, it’s that only Tess can make him stop. 

“Ok, baby, you’re ok,” she hums. She looks up at Joel above all of you and drops her voice, “That’s enough now, Joel.”

Joel pulls away from your clit and you sigh in relief, both his hands coming to your breasts, squeezing them roughly as his thrusts become sloppy. “Get ready,” he huffs through gritted teeth. Both Tess and Lydia scoot up so their faces are pressed against yours.

Joel slips out of you with a lewd pop and practically bends you in half to get over your faces. “Open your mouths and look at me,” he commands. The three of you obey, anything for the man who is going to kill for you or defend you to the very end if need be. 

His hand is tight around his cock, pumping himself quickly, the cords of muscle and veins along his forearm start to pop. His balls are full and heavy, tight against his body as he edges closer to his release. You stare at him, soaking in how wrecked he looks as he gets closer. His brows pinch together, onyx and whiskey flecked eyes looking only at you before his face goes lax and he lets out a deep, loud moan. Warm ropes of opaque white cum paint your faces.

As soon as he’s done he pulls away, Tess and Lydia letting go of your legs as the three of you kiss and lick at each other's sticky faces. Joel tastes better than you could have imagined, a heady mix of saltiness that leaves you insatiable for more.

Joel sits back on his heels watching the three of you slurp him up. He has a proud smirk on his face and when your eyes find his he winks at you before getting up and grabbing a towel off the top of the small dresser near the bed. Tess says something hushed to Lydia as you and Joel look at one another. Lydia pressed a kiss to your cheek before getting off the bed and following Tess into another room, the unmistakable sound of the shower alerting you to where they’ve gone.

Joel climbs beside you, looking down at you hesitantly. “You ok?” he whispers.

“Ya,” you sign sleepily. “I’m ok, Joel.”

He brings the towel to your thighs, soaking up your arousal. “I didn’t hurt ya?”

The towel ghosts along your swollen folds and you gasp, turning your head into Joel’s strong upper body. “I know, sorry.” He hisses, hating that he’s causing you discomfort. “But I gotta clean you up.”

He dabs gently with the soft towel causing an aftershock that shakes through your body and you feel yourself squirt again. Not nearly as much this time but a euphoric moan leaves your lips. Joel tucks the towel between your legs and guides your face up to meet his. His brown eyes burn themselves into your soul, “do you need more, baby? Just tell me.”

“It’s sensitive,” you whine.

He lifts an eyebrow slightly, “does it hurt?”

You stick your bottom lip out and nod sadly.

“Need me to kiss it?” he asks gently, his hooked nose rubbing against yours. 

You look at him hesitantly. Of course, you want Joel’s plush lips on your pussy, but a flap of a butterfly wing could probably cause you to implode at this point. 

“You can say another time,” he whispers, lips hovering over yours. He doesn’t know where this side of him has come from. Joel Miller is a simple man. Murder who Tess says, fuck any one of her Treasures that offer to get the adrenaline out afterwards, then leave them in their apartment pumped full of his cum. He usually can’t wait to rush back to his apartment to take a shower and shoot back a mix of whiskey and sleeping pills. But with you, he feels the need to care for you afterwards, and he has a strong feeling that you’re going to be a very large distraction in his life from now on. 

I’m fucked, he thinks to himself.

You lean forward to sponge your lips against his. He kisses you sweetly, pulling you in tighter as you hum contently into his lips.

“I don’t think I can tonight,” you say softly after breaking the kiss. 

“That’s ok, little slut.” He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so you’re resting on top of him. Legs straddling his hips and your head resting on his chest. You shiver against him, tucking your arms into your body. His hands scramble for the blanket, wrapping it around the two of you, kissing the top of your head. “Tomorrow, after Tess officially makes you her Treasure, that will be your gift from me.”

You nod into his chest, he smells like gunpowder, fresh sawdust and sweat as your eyelids become heavy and the world seems to slip away. You have trouble sleeping normally, I mean who wouldn’t in this fucked up new world you’re all in, but with Joel, it happens almost too easily. Sleep just takes you to a deep and uninterrupted place for who knows how long. But when you wake you’re in a large grey t-shirt in a small bedroom, not the same one you fell asleep in. You hear the peaceful and melodic breathing of someone beside you. You move slowly, peeling open your eyes to see Joel sleeping beside you. The moonlight dances softly along his face, grey hairs glinting in the light. He looks so peaceful, nothing like the man that was crazed by your pussy early. He’s still visibly dangerous, but fuck is he beautiful. 

I’m fucked, you think to yourself.

Tag list:

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@keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot

@lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog

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[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

I asked a few of my favorite hazbin writers this and only one answered and it was ok but I felt like it could have been expanded on so here's my take

Vox, Val, Alastor, and Lucifer react to your love language being baking/cooking

Vox

(Starting with him because he's the one thaf inspired this).

Vox came from the 50s and even though I firmly believe he is past all the ingrained gender roles and homophobia I think he still has some internalized misogyny. He wants to be viewed as the man in the relationship, the breadwinner, the provider. He can cook for himself but it's pretty basic food (except steak. Like every other man since the invention of the grill how to bbq has been hardwired into his brain. If his partner also grills ya'll fight over whose turn to cook out it is)

(Unrelated but as a lesbian who loves to grill, and is the designated grill bro, butch lesbians or cookout lesbians are some of Vox's favorite type of gays to chill with)

I firmly believe that's why even though he's a sub, it's so hard and would take time and trust to get him to let you top and enjoy it. He's so worried people will find out and judge him, that you'll judge him. His ego can be very fragile.

Especially if we go with the Vox used to be a cult leader theory. His power, image, and success are linked to his ability to appear in control. To appear to have all the answers and take responsibility. It's going to take a lot of time and patience to unravel all that and help him seperate his personal and professional image.

That being said, a partner who uses acts of service as a love language is perfect for him. He's a busy man, so he tends to be a gift giver type. The gifts are always well thought out and expensive. He wants it to be something you need, want, can get a lot of enjoyment from, and be worth the money spent, so he puts time and effort into them. Unless he's just showing off by giving you his card and telling you to go nuts.

So you taking time to make his coffee for him the way he likes, ordering lunch from his favorite places and having it sent to his office so he remembers to eat, or just texting him reminders to drink water or eat/take breaks throughout the day makes him giddy.

If you're his assistant or something, (and I believe Vox absolutely would have his partner working for him/with him), then it's even better when you take on extra work to try and help him. Organizing his schedule, sorting emails/mail, and proofreading things. Any small act you do for him, because you want to and care about him, makes his heart rate pick up.

It'll really make him overheat, glitching slightly, literal heart eyes, if he comes home after a shitty day and you're cooking for him.

His internal monologue is absolutely raving about what a good housewife you are for him, a hard working husband.

Bonus points if you cleaned too! Either way, he adores you even more now, letting you fret and coo at him, removing his jacket and tie, pouring him a drink and telling him dinner will be ready soon and you made his favorite. He's so tempted to bend you over the counter right now, but that would ruin dinner. After you guys eat though, he's having you for dessert. Man's gonna make sure you know how much he appreciates this by turning your knees to jello, good luck walking tomorrow, doll.

If you bake treats and bring them to VoxTek he's gonna brag so much. Literally the embodiment of John Mulaney's, "That's my wife!" If you bring them just for him, he's defending his treats like they're the last ones in Hell. He has literally hit Val with a fly swatter for even asking if he could have one.

(Unrelated but like, chubby vox maybe? You're cooking is too good)

Valentino

Val wishes he could cook better. He's some kind of latino, so I feel like the fact he can't cook very well is a sore spot culturally. He can make the salsa and chips and like, help with stuff, he knows how to wrap tortillas and tomales (I picture him as like Mexican or Puerto Rican but that's just cuz the town I grew up had a large Puerto Rican group).

It doesn't help that his eyesight is even more shit in Hell. He can't see what he's doing hald the time. It ruins his art hobby too. He's overall just more easily frustrated with his bad eyesight.

I don't imagine you guys dating per se. Maybe you're his sugar baby, maybe you're someone he hired to help him do stuff like clean and organize and you just sorta start doing other things to help him. (Again I'm not saying it excuses jackshit, but as someone who worked with bipolar people and people with mood disorder I kinda see the fan theory in him, either way I think all the Vees could be sort of trained to be better people, but especially Val. We already saw Vox do it.)

After all, he's usually in a much better mood if you do and that means less outbursts. The first few times you cook him something he teases you about being his housewife, tries to make it sexual. It's not really something he clocks as being an act of love because I don't think you'd realize it yourself at first. I think the more you got to see him when he wasn't stressed, lashing out, being abusive, you'd start catching feelings. ("I can fix him", delulu asses)

He loves to be in the kitchen when you cook once it starts becoming a regular thing. He can't see clearly what you're doing but the way you move around the kitchen and get what you need, even if you're an ADHD mess and do steps out of order or at random, he can tell you know what you're doing. He likes to smell the food too while it's cooking.

He will ask you to try and make some spicier/more traditional foods he grew up with, but he doesn’t remember all of the ingredients, and it just gets him more frustrated he can't tell you. If you look them up and surprise him with it it'll probably be the most genuine, human response you get from him.

He's shocked, silent, standing frozen in the penthouse as familiar smells waft around him. You present him a plate nervously, practically shaking hoping it's good enough. The first bite nearly puts him in tears. No one's done anything this nice for him? Why would you? Lowkey thinks you want something from him. It's gonna make him paranoid for a while so don't expect a verbal compliment but he eats it all.

Eventually though, one day when you're in the kitchen cooking, humming softly and swaying your hips, one set of his arms will wrap around your waist, the other reaching around you help with the salsa, or wrap a tamale, and he'll prop his chin on your head and mumble out thanks. Some praise, maybe. Would definitely tell you stories about eating these foods growing up.

It's the first step towards having an actual relationship with him.

Alastor

This man almost always insists on cooking. He isn't much of a sweet tooth either. You tell him one night you want to try cooking for him. Tell him you understand it's an activity he enjoys and relaxes too, (especially if you know it's something that reminds him of his mother), but you want to do something for him and this is one way you show you care.

It's gonna remind him of his Mama so much that if you didn't know why he loved cooking so much before you do now. He compromises. You pick the meal and gather the ingredients and do most of the cooking and he helps prep and does dishes.

He playfully critiques you the entire time about adding some spice too it or a little southern flair. Just smack him with the wooden spoon, gently. It's gonna make him laugh because his Mama used to do that when he wouldn't keep out of the sweets, or tried to add stuff to her cooking.

Once you start it becomes habit to help each other in the kitchen every night, trading off who cooks and who preps and does dishes.

If you do find baked goods he likes that aren't too sweet and send them to him as snacks, especially to Overlord meetings, he's so fucking obnoxious about his sweet little doe (doesn't matter if you are one or not) and how they spoil him. Especially rubs it in Vox's face (not him whining to his partner so they send him with treats too so he can also brag).

Only shares with Charlie, Rosie, Niffty, and sometimes Zestiel. If he's feeling generous, Husk can have a bite.

Low-key also has a thing for his partner behaving domestically even if he isn't exactly invested in traditional marriage.

Favorite activity though is dancing with you in the kitchen to jazz while dinner cooks, holding you close, in his room usually, so he can hear the sounds of the bayou. If he closes his eyes he can pretend this is how his life went and that his Mama is in the corner or sitting in her chair, watching him, happy to see him find someone.

He will literally kiss Vox willingly before admitting that last part though.

Lucifer

It's not that he can't cook, it's just....it's easier to just snap his fingers and make food appear. He's been in a depressed slump for decades man, he's lived off of the 'want food, no cook, only eat' mindset.

When you come into his life it's a complete overhaul. Despite what issues you have yourself you can recognize someone in worse state than you and immediately categorize and prioritize. First thing first, get this man's duck collection/obsession organized, thinned out, and under control.

Second, help him work through his issues with Lillith and Charlie. Encourage therapy, be a mediator between him and Charlie (and trust me she appreciates it. She knows her dad struggles, didn't know how bad, and still feels awkward). Help him socialize more, rebuild his connection with the other sins.

Get this man a work schedule!

Then it's on to personal habits. You help him get out of bed, you're both probably a little helpless in the sleeping on time category though. Help him get a routine again to keep out of his funk. Then you start cooking for him. It just happens naturally. You enjoy cooking, you enjoy showing people you love how much you care by providing good meals.

At first he's gonna resist and tell you he can handle that, you already do so much for him. He can cook or better yet he can just make it appear and you laugh and tell him it tastes better when it's made with love. He brushes it off as a joke too, you're both just being silly and obviously you said that to get him to quit fussing. Except, unholy hell does it actually taste so much better.

Lucifer hadn’t realized how bland and unsatisfying just materializing the food was. Maybe that's because he was so depressed and uninterested in what he ate, maybe not. Either way, your cooking is so much fucking better. He actually looks forward to eating now. If he gets caught up in work or has a bad day, you make sure to always bring him something, leaving it as an offering of sorts. It almost always works and entices him to eat at least once.

You cook, he does dishes, and he will not budge on that rule. He wants to be a fair man. He occasionally boots you out to do dessert, though. Apple pie is his bitch and you've never tasted one as good as his. He also makes good pancakes and some absolutely orgasmic angel's food cake.

Ironicall, devil's food cake is one of your go to recipes. Sometimes you both make a cake and take it to events just to watch people get confused as fuck when it's revealed the literal Devil did not make the devil's food cake.

Everyime you're in the kitchen together it's a disaster, you're both to silly and chaotic. You were making noodles one time and he threw flour at you so you smacked him with the noodle you were holding, leaving a line of flour and a speck of dough against his cheek. From there it escalates. It happens every time. Making cakes together, you're smashing frosting on each other. Making cookies, you're fighting each other to stop eating cookie dough.

Once, after you get fed up with him stealing her spatula to lick the chocolate off of, hovering above you with his wings, you pout and bat your eyes, asking him sweetly to please give it back. He swoops down in front of you, booping your nose to smear chocolate on it and leaning in to kiss you, letting you have a taste of the chocolate batter you were mixing for brownies. While his tongue is in your mouth, drunk off the taste of you and chocolate you smash an egg over his head and let out a triumphant cheer, snatching back your spatula.

He's so stunned his wings disappear and he drops the last few inches to the ground while you cackle. His heart is pounding, his ears are ringing, and his chest feels like it's gonna explode. His eyes are literal sparkles. He hasn't felt this much joy, wonder, and love since Charlie was born. It feels like witnessing creation all over again, of the breathlessness he felt when he first saw Lillith.

You're laughter stops when you realize he's just staring at you awestruck and you smile, asking if he's ok.

"For once...yeah..Yes. I'm ok." He responds, genuinely. You kiss his cheek and resume baking. He watches you from the counter now, dreamily, thinking about how he's gonna marry you someday.

[luvacookie]

୨୧ thru ur phone.

connie leaves his phone unattended.

❥ warnings : cheating, threats, intended useage of lowercase, fem blk coded reader

❥ cookie for ur thoughts ? : sorry guys was in an angsty mood so i wrote an angsty drabble </3 but i am considering writing a follow up to this !

“the fuck is this connie ?”

he stares at his game, the lighting from the screen highlighting the contortion of his face.

“what’cha on about..” he says dazed, groaning as he gets killed again.

you throw his phone on top of his desk harshly, the device landing face up. he jumps at the unexpected, loud noise, his eyes finally cutting away from the screen and to you with a squint.

“what the fuck ? i’m in the middle of s’mthin’ ‘nd you throwin’ shit in my face,” he says with a huff, unaware of what almost hit him.

“ion give a fuck about your dumb fucking game ! who the fuck is that and why is she texting you about how she misses you in her fucking bed constance,” you shout at him, your hands fidgeting in annoyance.

his face drops at that statement, suddenly sitting up straight and realising that it was his phone that you were holding.

he snatches it up quickly, scrolling through all the notifications.

“the fuck you going through my shit for y/n—” he says annoyed, looking up at you with a scowl.

“don’t play that card with me right now, i’m so close to beating the living shit outta your ass !” you yell, the fidgeting turning into mild pacing.

he watches you move up and down with narrowed eyes, the words on his tongue struggling to find an exit. “it’s nobody, stop stressin’ over it.”

“ ‘nobody’ my fucking ass constance ! you think ‘cus you named the bitch ‘work’ in yo’ phone means i’m fuckin’ dumb ?” you snap at him, standing in one place.

he stands up out of his gaming chair, attempting to cross the room to you.

“don’t fuckin’ come near me connie. i swear to god, i will put hands on your scumbag ass—” you spew, taking steps backwards.

“y/n talk to me, we can talk about this,” he tries, his hands reaching for you.

you scoff. “fuck tha’ and fuck you. get your shit and fuckin’ go.”

he looks taken aback, not expecting those words out of your mouth. “huh ?”

“i’m not fucking repeating myself, find somewhere else to be ‘cus i do not want to see your fucking face right now,” you say firmly, watching him.

his eyes scan over you in mild disbelief. he tries to step towards you again and you step back, your mindset clear and decided. he stops and looks around for a brief moment before disappearing into your shared bedroom.

you exhale a shaky breath and the tears, that you didn’t know you were holding, start falling. you hold your mouth to silence the sounds of your cries, opting to move into the living room and sit on the couch as they continue to slide down your face.

you try to slow your heart rate and your breathing, desperate to keep your composure so that when he walks into the room you can keep your head held high.

you’re texting your best friend, informing her of the situation when connie appears in front of you from a distance, holding a duffle bag with a few random items in it and his shoes.

“i- i’m sorry y/n, i am,” he mumbles, rocking back and forth on his feet like a child.

“sorry isn’t fucking good enough,” you reply.

he opens his mouth to say something but decides not to, choosing to put his shoes on and unlock the front door.

he turns to look at you before leaving, the chain rattling as the door shuts.

when you feel confident enough that he’s out of range you start sobbing, the tears flowing consistently.

there’s nothing you can do but let the heartbreak consume you, ignoring the sound of his car racing down the street.